Nine Inch Nails
The Downward Spiral

THE REVIEW

It's no coincidence, Vic. From the day I was gifted “Appetite For Destruction” for my tenth birthday, I've only given away three albums. One of these was “Mellon Collie And The Infinite Sadness” by the Smashing Pumpkins, and I regretted it afterwards. Teenage mistakes. Later on, I got rid of “Insomniac” by Green Day, and perhaps that was a less serious blunder. Let me preface by saying that I firmly believe there isn't a single truth in this world, but as many as there are our points of view (which form the basis, not the antithesis). That being said, I can proudly say that the only disposal I'm truly proud of was “The Downward Spiral”. And I won't even presume to judge what artistic category this formless jumble of noises mixed with sounds might belong to, what is certain is that it shouldn't be listed among the works of a musician. Trash of this nature, where technology is posed as genius, noise as sound, and personal neurosis as inspiration, is exactly the type of work so beloved by the majors, which can thus celebrate the first maladjusted junkie as a new Mozart of noise. However, beware, the current subject given the role of climbing the Golgotha of fame must be completely musically inept, otherwise there's a risk that one day they might evolve and start rebelling against the producers' dictates.

With good Reznor, they certainly played it safe.

These new 21st-century artists should be chosen entirely incapable, so to speak, preferably if they are pretentious. Almost certainly, good Reznor, when writing the lyrics of “Piggy”, was thinking about some conversation with a groupie the night before under the influence of cocaine. But, caution, while Izzy Stradlin’ wrote these things in Los Angeles slang (his mother tongue), in this song, his life of arrogance and presumption is passed off as avant-garde genius. Where's the art otherwise? Whether the piece is truly unlistenable is another matter, it's up to those who fall for the trick, trying in vain to like it after being exposed to it thousands of times. What? “Heresy” tells us about the dethronement of God in light of the fall of the realm of morality? This is not Trent Reznor, it's Friedrich Nietzsche. With the necessary clarification that good Trent stands to philosophy like Motley Crue stands to Christian morality (at least they, properly mocked it). This album, in terms of philosophy, only carries the doctrine of profit of the record baronies that published it. If you want a perfect sample of Nietzschean Dionysian technique, go buy “The Sound Of Perseverance” by the late Chuck Schuldiner (who died of a brain tumor at only thirty, because the American system fills monsters of dementia like Reznor with money but doesn't provide public healthcare). If you want to hear what has become, today, of Wagnerian-inspired “will to power,” go buy “Heaven And Hell” by Sabbath. As I write these lines, I'm patiently re-listening to this monstrosity of disjointed cacophonies, trying to find something worth mentioning, I swear I'm struggling to listen to the whole thing again... Something is salvageable in "Reptile," which at least by repeating the same loop fifty times allows me to understand the tempo on the piece's metronome. Some synth effects in the intro of the same “Heresy”, but the chorus is really unbearable. Perhaps, I tell myself, I should try it too under the influence of drugs... Then I reason and think it's pointless to waste money trying to interpret random noises when I could give myself a real trip by revisiting, I don't know, a “Ummagumma” by the 'Floyd.

No, I've decided, no drugs, before putting it back in the player, I give myself a knock on the head. And so, we talk no more about it.