Published on Feb 10, 2004
Trent Reznor is one pissed-off dude. Pissed off, writhing in
emotional agony, and lashing out at everything and everyone who
comes close enough to bask in the corrosive burn of his personal
wrath. Some people, when they get hurt, curl up and pout, lamenting
whatever wrongs were done to them. Some tighten down the emotional
screws until the pressure draws blood. Trent is definitely the
latter.
Broken is one solid blast of unmitigated hopelessness and rage.
Every track drips with venom. Each song is like a whip, flaying his
psyche and laying bear raw, stinging flesh to pour fresh salt into.
Where does all this anger come from? Reznor was going through legal
problems with his record label at the time, which would certainly
get ones hackles up, but I can’t believe there isn’t a bad, bad
breakup behind this outpouring of emotion.
It’s bad enough to be full of loathing, but worse when feel it
looking in the mirror. It’s hard to figure out who he hates more,
whoever it was that hurt him, or he himself. On the track “Wish,”
Reznor exclaims: “I put my faith in god and my trust in you, Now
there’s nothing more fucked up I could do”.
On the next track “Last,” he counters with: “Look through these
blackened eyes, you’ll see ten thousand lies “My lips may promise
but my heart is a whore.”
From beginning to end, this disc creates a raw, grating symphony
of pain and discomfort. Even the short instrumental tracks have an
unnerving quality that feels tainted in some way. This is not a
happy collection of songs. There is no joy here. Even the sexual
pleading of the Adam Ant cover “Physical” is both a plea for
release, and a warning to stay away.
Musically, the disc is a masterpiece of caustic industrial
metal. Grinding, blistering, obnoxious and spectacular. Reznor
takes the groundwork started with his debut
Pretty Hate Machine, and creates an even heavier and
emotionally charged set of songs. He does this in a more chaotic,
yet mature fashion, sustaining a continuous texture of raging angst
that propels the listener through his personal hell. Anyone
familiar with NIN’s later work owes it to themselves to listen to
this. This is still in my opinion, Trent Reznor’s best work to
date.