Review Summary: nihilism for the masses: or how I fought them all and told them exactly how awful life was being awesome
In an utter plaintiff there’s not more to get out of this than radio-ready nihilism. I’d say I doubt Trent even cared about the philosophy of his music as he penned it but I have no idea what Trent was thinking while he was playing besides: I hate myself. It is all so very stereotypically nineties to become so successful and to hate your life so much. It’s hard to say if any mainstream rock band was actually satisfied with their career at that time, which is odd, because they probably formed with dreams to make it big. After making it big, they wished they didn’t. Wonderful creatures we all are.
Even though the grass is always dead on both sides, there’s the fine point that there is still grass on either side. It’s not so much that it’s Nine Inch Nails, but that it’s a turning point in Industrial music. If you’re a purist you are probably offended at this notion. There isn’t much of a need to explain myself, because this is compositionally very competent with layers so deep and dark there’s a lot to come back to. Look to every Industrial Rock act and most Industrial acts that have came after and Trent has left his mark. Wide and far this record has left its mark on music to come and I’ll quickly deem it essential as a history piece.
But I am a layman who does not care for compositions very much or history so seriously, though they are both wonderful, I’m only here for the story. I listen to this record and it makes me angry and sick. Trent is a baby and this is the diary of a baby. If you ever wondered how an immature person thinks, there isn’t much to wonder about. I don’t have something, I want it. My life is bad. I want it to be good. My options are limited, I want more. People don’t like me. I want them to like me. I’m bored, I want excitement. I hurt myself. I want an end to pain.
Idiocy in the plainest and something that, if you’re human, you should be able to relate to: we are all idiots when it is most convenient. Depending on your lifestyle, one may consider it making mistakes, or you may have become old enough to accept your own quirks. This is a chronicle of another man’s quirks in an objectively dumb lifestyle. There are times when I feel like I live a dumb lifestyle and this brings me to those times. Closed-minded folk would like to forget these times of stupidity. In simple words, they are wrong to have no regrets. Taking trips into self-loathing may not be healthy, but it teaches a lot about the self, and leaves you stronger as a result.
Is it needed? Heavens no, there are definite problems with messing with your biorhythm. If I was a perfect man I’d pretend to be happy everyday. Some people dislike pretense, however, it’s the simplest means to reality. In this post-columbine world and in the wake of Trent himself, this record stands a lot larger than it really is. Even as I give weight to something as shrewd as murder-suicide in relation to a manchild’s diary, I wonder why it carries so much weight. Inside, even if it I’m scared to admit, I know. My own self lacks a lot of things, and I want them. Many people do not like me, I’m crass to wonder why. My own self is weighed down by daily life, I wish it could change. My own self makes mistakes, I want an end to pain. That’s the downward spiral folks and it’s up to the individual whether these are lies or steps.