Patrick Ryan

USA TODAY

A generation of broody teens grew up listening to Paramore and Linkin Park, but only one band is growing up with them.

Both artists are cut from the same cloth, despite their different makeups: one is a Tennessee trio fronted by the neon-haired Hayley Williams; the other, a California six-piece led by Chester Bennington. Each are emotional rock bands who came up in the early to mid-2000s alongside other pop-punk upstarts such as Fall Out Boy, My Chemical Romance and Panic! at the Disco. They've cropped up on Warped Tour stages, Twilight and Transformers soundtracks, and have had their songs memorably mashed up by fans online. They've routinely translated young-adult angst into raging, gloomy hits including In the End, New Divide, The Only Exception, and Misery Business, all the while remaining chummy offstage.

Now, they're back with new albums within a week of each other that couldn't be more different, in both quality and sound. Paramore's After Laughter (***1/2 out of four) expertly expands on the brazen, bright pop of 2014 single Ain't It Fun, their first and only top-10 smash on the Billboard Hot 100 chart. Eighties-inspired lead single Hard Times — with its punchy chorus and jaunty blend of marimbas, bongos and drums — has a similarly relatable message about growing pains beneath its shimmery surface, while Rose-Colored Boy and Caught in the Middle are sleekly crafted pop songs with Caribbean flair.

Some of Laughter's most grown-up songs arrive midway through the album when they slow it down. Fake Happy begins with what sounds like Williams singing ruefully into an iPhone, before soaring into a stadium-ready anthem about insecurities and putting on a good face. Strings and horns bring elegance to wistful ballad 26, which is followed by another dramatic style switch on Pool, a mesmerizing splash of electronic sounds and guitar that would feel equally at home on an Ellie Goulding album. Paramore is clearly aiming for more radio-friendly music here, but their deceptively moving lyrics and audacious fusing of genres is what makes it such a rewarding listen.

Linkin Park's One More Light (** out of four), meanwhile, isn't as willing to take risks. The band's seventh album is a step back from its 2014 effort The Hunting Party, which leaned into heavier rock with assists from Rage Against the Machine's Tom Morello and System of a Down's Daron Malakian. Light 's haphazard guest list doesn't do them quite as many favors. The cloying Kiiara-assisted Heavy is a shameless bid for pop-radio attention, while Good Goodbye featuring Pusha T and Stormzy retreads the tired rap-rock schlock that Twenty One Pilots has dominated the airwaves with in the past year.

Even then, those are the most adventurous songs on the album. The rest fall into the same category of morose rock anthems that Linkin Park has been dutifully putting out for years. Only these are riddled with generic platitudes about how "if I fall, get knocked down / I'll pick myself up off the ground" (Battle Symphony) and "what doesn't kill us makes us stronger" (Sharp Edges). Played in succession with Laughter, Light is an illuminating reminder that not all bands can get better with age.