NINE INCH NAILS
THE FRAGILE
DOUBLE ALBUM NOTHING RELEASE: SEPTEMBER 21, 1999 (NORTH AMERICA, AUSTRALIA, JAPAN), SEPTEMBER 27, 1999 (EUROPE) REVIEW: SEPTEMBER 28, 1999
It hasn't been easy being a Nine Inch Nails fan the last couple of years.
Not only has Trent Reznor taken over five years to produce a follow up to
"The Downward Spiral", one of the best albums of the nineties, but his
reputation has also, at least in my eyes, been tainted by his collaborations
with silly shock rockers Marilyn Manson.
Fortunately, all such thoughts are swept away when the new album "The
Fragile" finally reaches my ears. It was a huge mystery how Reznor should be
able to take things further, both sonically and lyrically, than he did on
"The Downward Spiral". But somehow he has succeeded both to reinvent himself
and to keep a core that is pure Nine Inch Nails.
To begin with, where the rhythms on "The Downward Spiral" were all muscles
and pumping blood vessels, on "The Fragile" they're stripped down to the raw
bones, the bare skeleton. Still with a menacing power, but dry and cold. At
first, the music feels equally sparse. Just these drums, guitars reduced to
pure shattered noise, throbbing bass and fuzzy electronics. But after a few
listening rounds, the music suddenly mutates into something much bigger. New melodies
appear from nowhere. Textures emerge, revealing soundscapes almost as
complex as on "The Downward Spiral". Still, the production bears a cold
quality, a feeling of unbrushed lead. Paired with Trent Reznor's vulnerable
voice and desperate, fleshy lyrics it evokes a mood near the perverse
marriage of car crashes, prosthetics and sexuality in David Cronenberg's
movie "Crash". Or near the grey isolation of David Bowie's Berlin years.
Spread over 23 songs and 100 minutes, "The Fragile" isn't such a perfectly
held together journey as its predessor, but it's nevertheless an infinitely
fascinating experience.
Ambitious as always, Reznor has once again made a
concept album. But this time it's more about recovery, mostly from a broken
relationship. He goes through all the states. On the first disc, which is
the most aggressive one, it's all hatred, self loathing and despair. It's
also the feeling of trying to hold on to someone you're bound to lose.
Especially in "We're in This Together", something of a Reznor's version of
Bowie's "Heroes", where the two persons of the song are still "in this
together" after everything they've went through. Combined with an
astonishing chorus and an equally astonishing production, with guitars that
roar like a jet engine, it's a song that makes you want to dance at the same
time as you're about to break down and cry. Reznor doesn't hesitate to show
his bitterness either. In "The Wretched", the lyric goes "it didn't turn out
the way you wanted it to" and he spits out the words like it hurts to keep
them inside.
But no matter how great the heavy, angry tracks are, the highlight of the
first half is still "The Great Below", this album's answer to "Hurt". It's a
song so beautiful that I wouldn't know where to start to describe it. The
guitars buzz strange ambiences, the vocals and lyrics are so emotional that
they almost hurt and when the strings enter it's just... pure magic.
The second disc is somewhat calmer, and seems to be more about
reconciliation. The mood is lighter and more playful - "Into the Void" is
dubby electronic funk, while "Where Is Everybody?" is the closest Nine Inch
Nails has come to hip hop since "Down in It". But Reznor never seems to be
able to escape his agonies. As he puts it in "The Big Come Down": "there is
no place I can go there is no way I can hide/it feels like it keeps coming
from the inside". And the last words on "The Fragile" are "you remain/I am
stained", in the mantra like "Underneath It All".
All in all, this is an overwhelming experience. Music doesn't get much more
intense than this.
KRISTOFFER NOHEDEN
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