
With my recent fervor surrounding Trent Reznor and Nine Inch Nails (NIN), I thought I would give a retrospective on how I became exposed to NIN, and the drive behind my recent consumption and study of any materials related to Reznor’s work and philosophy on music. Whether you enjoy the music of NIN or not, it’s difficult to argue Reznor’s brilliance as an artist and pioneer — the intelligence behind it is at times, astounding.
It must have been 1990 when I came across NIN’s debut album, Pretty Hate Machine. Our family didn’t have much when I was growing up, but my sister had gotten a stereo with this cool new thing called a compact disc player for Christmas and with it she began collecting a small library of assorted music. I of course, was not allowed to play with the stereo, look at the stereo, or even enter her room that held the stereo under any circumstances. She created a virtual Fort Knox anti–sibling barrier with the impenetrable mandate of, “because I said so.” There was a problem, however: I was a young, curious child, and there was a new electronic device in our house. Mind you, I had fully disassembled almost all of the electronics given to me as a boy already (including the Nintendo), and the idea of a box with a laser in it seemed like a potential adventure of epic, Real Genius–like proportions. So of course, I snuck in, plugged headphones in to minimize noise and chances of getting caught, and played the cd I found with the coolest cover.
A single thing came to mind, an none of it resembled praise. I could only think, “loud, angry noises.” It made no sense to me, gave me a headache, and certainly didn’t fit in the category of “music.” I was young though, what did I know? I listened to “Head Like a Hole” and had to stop. Later, I would recount the experience to my other sister as though I was smuggling state secrets, “Do you know what music she listens to? It’s so angry and loud. You should hear it! ‘Head like a hole, black as your soul, I’d rather die, than give you control!’ Why would anyone listen to that?” My oldest sister’s wisdom was simple, ”If you remembered the words, it couldn’t have been that bad, right?“
A few years later I would come across NIN again, this time with The Downward Spiral and the music video for “Closer”. First impressions being the charms that they are, I remember some pretty disturbing images and yet again, I did not understand the appeal. Honestly, the entire goth aesthetic and subculture still does not appeal to me, but that is really secondary to the music, if not altogether dismissible. Many raved over the songs in The Downward Spiral, and I swear I would have appreciated and delved more into the album if I could have gotten the picture of that pumping heart and mounted pig’s head out of my brain. Either way, while I enjoyed the music more than the last NIN experience I had, the group remained far from my regular rotation of music. Little did I know that the break–through was right around the corner.
In 1994, The Crow was made into a film, and with one song, “Dead Souls” (a NIN cover of the Joy Division song), things all made sense. I am not sure if it was the timing in my life, the empathy I had for the main character running his pain out on those rooftops, or what that kicked me over the edge, but I do remember that main guitar riff — strong, screaming, and visceral. Enlightenment had finally arrived at the station, and I quickly bought a ticket for the NIN train.
As with any new fascination, you digest everything you can: past, present, and future. I began digging into the old albums with new interest, re–listening to the albums above and absorbing Broken in the process. It was a great time thrashing about as an angst–filled young man in the making, and after getting past the sounds and music, I began to notice the nuances in the construction of certain songs, whether it was the organization, sound levels, or related expression that occurred as a result of part x in the song formula.
A few years later, Reznor would handle the soundtrack and score of a very influential video game in geek history, Quake, and after that, I kind of lost track of NIN. I completely missed The Fragile and Year Zero, and only briefly caught a few tracks on With Teeth before passing the cd onto my sister. While the music was still good, I didn–t have nearly the same passion as I did when I was young for listening to Reznor–s work, forgetting his genius for a bit while I was off pondering other things.
As many know, after the album Year Zero and its remix, Y34RZ3R0R3M1X3D, Reznor left his label and went independent. He has since released an entire instrumental album, Ghosts I–IV for use in cinematic scoring and experimentation, and The Slip, a more traditional album. NIN returned to my regular playlist with The Slip, while the exploration into Reznor’s work as an independent artist began taking over when I was in a position to help consult and progress a close friend’s band. Reznor’s efforts and knowledgeable perspective convinced me that it would be possible for them to take control of their careers and become successful on their own; they simply had to be smart about it. To help them, I began analyzing Reznor’s career and the traditional music industry business models, comparing and contrasting the two to create the most well–informed and educated plan–of–attack and success possible. With this research, I have also fallen into an OCD trap of tracking down and collecting as much NIN music as I can, particularly the limited/deluxe/special editions to get as much material as possible. It has become quite a crazy endeavor, but I look forward to immersing myself in the music and re–analyzing the tracks with an older, wiser set of ears. I’m sure there will be a heavy dose of nostalgia thrown in for good measure.
I’ve said it before, and I will say it again, there are few people that command as much knowledge and experience on how to be a successful musician without the traditional music industry model as Trent Reznor. In interview upon interview, Reznor has openly discussed his disdain for the traditional music industry model, and how he has worked to achieve success through different means. It’s not only inspiring, but now, award–winning.
I have spent a lot of time in recent years doing research on how to help artists in many different creative pursuits, focusing mainly on how to alleviate the struggles of my close friends who are musicians, illustrators, and painters, and in my efforts to launch any significant campaign, I have had my setbacks. I stand undeterred though, and a I owe a lot of my recent battle cry and charge to Reznor and the work he has done as an independent artist. I think he was right, the old model for the music industry is broken; it is possible for success to be achieved independently.
Sadly, I, along with many other fans, had to “Wave Goodbye” to NIN this past month as the group completes its final tour before taking a well deserved break that extends indefinitely. Whether Reznor will return to music with more NIN albums is uncertain. What we can be sure of is Reznor will leave behind a tremendous legacy on music as a whole, and a lot of people like me will remember his willingness to kick open the door to show people what was possible if we have the drive to do things on our own. The cycle can be altered and changed, and every day need not be the same…