In a surprisingly short time frame (for Reznor, that is), NIN manages to release an album before the last left the public conscious. That this is no throwaway cash-grab makes it all the more startling; this may actually be Reznor’s most ambitious effort to date. It’s a bleak concept album (but aren’t almost all concept albums essentially grim?) examining a not-too-distant future world, a frightening police state controlled by religious oppression and terrorism. But isn’t the entire conceit inherently unnecessary? After all, while there are certainly landscape and structural changes between this future and the actual present, the topics of contention are as timely and accented now as then. Why not simply write about the disastrous state of these subjects here and now?
But Nine Inch Nails was always about the music more than the words; as much as I love Trent, he’s been responsible for some pretty lame lyrical rants and overwrought “metaphors” in the past. The music of Year Zero pushes in both directions of Reznor’s grasp. There is tender beauty emphasized beneath the pulsing beats and he presses the industrial aesthetic to the breaking points at a few junctures. So while it is often catchy and/or thrilling to the senses, it is almost just as often eardrum splitting. The “pure” industrial artists always snarled and mocked in his direction, but most either didn’t get it or they didn’t try; either way, they’re not fit for much appreciation. But here, Reznor parts that Red Sea between melodic hook and saturated clamor, finding enough good moments in between but only sporadically delivering work to match his best from earlier years.
Much has been made of the external forces at play with the album release. The online advertising campaign, artwork, intricate interactive mysteries and alternate reality game (you read that right) makes more of the material than anyone possibly could with the album alone (perhaps even more than Reznor ever considered, too). The album’s focus shifts in a similar manner; while previous albums frequently centered on the self and the mental mutilation within, Year Zero turns its focus outward towards society. Oddly enough, the attraction reverses that trend—while he’s had a plethora of heavy, dance-friendly hits in the past, this album delivers very few that have a legitimate chance of making a dent even on the Indie/Alternative charts. Heavy on mutated robotic percussion (but without the rust of his early 90s output) and cacophonous breakbeats, low on infectious hooks and mope-along choruses, if this is Reznor recasting himself for culthood after mainstream trends have passed him by, he mostly succeeds.
“Glorified G” is far and away the most radio-friendly and catchy number on here and pulses with an energy lacking in draining moments elsewhere. “The Beginning Is the End” survives a start that immediately makes one prepare for “My Sharona” and then ends too soon. “Me, I’m Not” sounds like one of his smoldering sex jams, but in the album concept, seems to pertain more to the military industrial complex. “My Violent Heart” churns menacingly during traditional NIN verses (Reznor even runs through his breathy spoken word tricks) and then explodes with dynamo house beats for the jarring choruses. And closer, “Zero-Sum,” rivals “Hurt” at times for Reznor’s greatest brutally dark ballad finish. On the other hand, “Survivalism” is good but hardly a strong choice for first single (and its beat and texture are reminiscent of the far superior “The Hand That Feeds”), “The Great Destroyer” is digital hardcore noise for the sake of noise like the most clueless of industrial musicians in the late 80s/early 90s, and “The Warning” sounds like it should be in the dance club of the damned.
A fierce measurement of reach and ability may implore greater adoration, but it’s too difficult to ignore the Nine Inch Nails of yesteryear. True, it may be unfair to compare new material with old, and there are still the pretentious hipsters out there that think that NIN is fit only for mopey teenagers that think that Good Charlotte is too quaint (seriously, who are these people?), but at least Trent seems to be looking forward now. Not quite enlightening but engrossing enough, ambition gave him the chance to deliver a stronger album than his modestly disappointing With Teeth; it also exposed the flaws in his songwriting and concept. It won’t likely replace Spiral, Fragile or Machine, but nobody rocks the post-industrial style like the man who first brought it to the masses.
8 out of 10
The new "From the Archives" feature on JPP will showcase album reviews ranging from recent history to the distant past. As they are culled “from the archives,” they will not look back beyond the moment the review was first written but will instead represent the first impression and impact of each album.
