Okay, here it is: the moment all of you (2 or 3 people) have been waiting for.
Thanks to everyone who followed. I know it probably wasn't the most interesting or exciting, but I did my best and was glad to write about albums that have had a big impact on me. Maybe some of them will have a big impact on you as well.
2. (1994) Nine Inch Nails - The Downward SpiralDistant static. A harsh beating sound. Then the faint groans and startled yelps of a man. No, this isn't Andydt's bedroom. This is the beginning to Mr. Self Destruct, the first track on Nine Inch Nails' 1994 industrial phenomenon The Downward Spiral. Be it the tortured screams of women and children to serve as melodies on The Becoming, the gradual crescendo of nightmarish walls of sound on Eraser, or the tormented anguish and regret of the tear-jerker Hurt, The Downward Spiral is brutally honest in all of its angst-ridden misery. Mr. Self Destruct is schizophrenic, abrasive, fast, LOUD. Piggy is a slithering bass beat of moody sounds and the constant repeat of "Nothing can stop me now." Heresy juxtaposes between creepy, jarring synth and loud industrial rock, as does the turbulent discord of March of the Pigs.
Whether it's true industrial or not, The Downward Spiral is remarkably experimental, especially for an album that sold over 4 million copies. The dance club hit Closer, a blunt, straight-to-the-point sex anthem is nonetheless dark and self-loathing, filled with voyeuristic beats and the scattering of sinister synths that strangle. Ruiner and I Do Not Want This take advantage of hollow, airy filtering, like extracted from an airplane in flight. Trent Reznor's voice can be quiet and menacing, or choked with unrestrained fury at the world and at himself. The contrast of verses and choruses often display the different levels of anger in his voice, adding to the very unpleasant and uncertain atmosphere of The Downward spiral.
The overall story is that of a man's emotional downward spiral, peeling back the layers of both himself and society, finding nothing but mistakes and decay. He uses sex and counterfeit emotional support in an attempt to fill the void, but in the end it only adds to his misery. Along the way, he denounces religion, society, sex, prostitution, drugs, therapy, and himself.
The Downard spiral is by no means the creation of industrial music, of course. It was around much longer before the 90s, evolving in the late 70s, as many industrial elitists love pointing out to NIN fans. But what makes The Downward Spiral so remarkable in the innovation department is its ability to fuse those jagged, ugly soundscapes with rich pop melodies and endless hooks, coated with rich synth and guitar work, as well as captivating choruses and consistent, coherent themes throughout the lyrics. All of the industrial staples are here: beats, synths, walls of harrowing and indecipherable noise, samples taken from movies and God knows what else. But with those tools are the formulas to make pop songs. And that's the inherent magic. Reznor's lyrics may sound somewhat pedestrian, but the obvious honesty and natural bluntness are undeniably powerful.
Hurt. Everyone knows this to be Johnny Cash's song, and NIN naysayers can't wait to discredit Reznor entirely and say that Cash gave it an emotional potence Reznor failed to give it. Well, those people are terrorists and communists. Reznor's voice, a whimper choked with restrained tears, pours his soul into each and every word over the hushed ambiance and soft acoustic guitar. With the tale of regret finally completed, it erupts into a cataclysm of buzzing guitars and static, drowning away the narrator.
It's not often an album can drive me to tears. I've heard plenty of sad and miserable songs (as evidenced by this list), but The Downward Spiral is unique in that regard. It has helped me with many tough times in my life, be it my trivial 13-year-old problems of my now 19-almost-20-year-old problems. Even in its darkest moments, I have found a light in it that I can hold onto, something to remind me that I am not alone. For better or worse, this album was what morphed me from a casual music listeners to an obsessor, and to this day, The Downward Spiral remains on a high plateau in my eyes.
Recommended tracks: Closer, Reptile, Hurt
1. (1989) The Cure - Disintegration"Disintegration is the best album ever!" - Stan from South Park.
Here we are at #1. This might be surprising to some, while others saw it coming from a mile away. Admittedly, when I first heard Disintegration about 7 years ago, it wasn't anything that much appealed to me. It was well-written, sure. I could tell. It was definitely layered. And it was definitely sad. But it didn't mean much to me.
Fast-forward to today, and this album means more to me than any piece of music ever should. And not to sound pretentious, but I can't recommend just a few tracks. Oh no, every bit of this album deserves to be heard.
The previous albums by The Cure saw them moving more and more toward a pop sound, much to frontman Robert Smith's chagrin. He wanted to create something darker, a little moodier, a little more serious--so much so that he actually remained silent during the entire recording of a certain little 1989 album, refusing to speak to anyone, even his own band members, all to create an unpleasant atmosphere in the studio.
Unpleasant? Yeah, you could say that.
The opener Plainsong explodes with huge, swelling, almost orchestral synths that are breathtaking in their vast, oceanic beauty, ascending and descending like waves. Smith's vocals echo with clean reverb, adding an undertone of discontentment, almost seeming like a contradiction to the gorgeous atmosphere spread out. Pictures of You is mellower, dreamier, and just as immersive but in a much different way--somber yet inviting, with pools of delicate guitars fading in and out over echoing, slow drums. Smith's voice tells of isolation and obsession with the photographs of a long lost lover. Even the huge hit Lovesong, which has been covered hundreds upon hundreds of times throughout history, an aptly-titled tribute to a lover, is tinged with desperation. Fascination Street hints at sexual deviancy in subtle club play and nightlife under thick layers of that rich Gothic nihilism.
The second half of Disintegration is much more treacherous, like stepping off a cliff in the middle of the night during a storm. Prayers for Rain is heavy and bursting with misery, all of the grievances that come with endlessly devotional love for someone cold and sadistic. Its brooding lurk feels like a heavy rain beating down, pushing you further into some Gothic abyss of tragedy and regret. The Same Deep Water as you is a little gentler, but with just as much desperation as ever, filled to the brim with tragic romanticism and the bleak tinkering of distant guitar chords with distant synths hovering above like clouds. It even ends with what sound like a rain storm.
The title track is quick, heavy, dense, and entwined with a malevolent and heart-wrenching marriage of guitar/synth that makes its presence known only a few times during the 8-minute run. Smith's lyrics tell of a relationship gone bad, becoming more desperate and nightmarish as it goes on, his voice building in volume and grief as if giving into the pressure of something crushing him. Homesick retreats to more mellow territories, lush with seductive piano and guitar washes, splashing water on your face to wipe away those tears and all of that ruined makeup.
But the album goes out with Untitled, which is a sigh, not a yell or a whisper--just a meek sigh of regret for what could have been and what should have been said.
Disintegration is like standing at the edge of the ocean while feeling suicidal. You look down, and it's seemingly beautiful and welcoming enough--a fitting and simple end. After taking the plunge, it's far deeper, darker, and heavier than you ever imagined. You feel yourself suffocated by the pressure of the water above you, knowing that the waves up high are too turbulent for you to come up for air. Deeper and deeper you descend, terrified by the ominous shadows lurking with you down there in the deep dark, watching you, contemplating you. The more you struggle, the deeper you descend. But finally, you come up for air, only ti discover an enormous thunderstorm of flashing lightning and blistering, heavy rain. The waves hammer upon you, slapping you around, making you their bitch, scarring you with faded red. And at the very end of it all, looking down into the sea and high up above at the clouds, the natural beauty of all of the terror and ugly emotions. Your suicide was negated, and instead you were taken to the deepest ocean, seeing nothing but black, the black of your own life, the black of your own past endeavors and relationships that crumbled at your own hands. You wanted a romantic death but found the memories of all past mistakes, wrapped into a package of ocean and sky. I am rambling.
But that's what it feels like. Disintegration is a journey or pure regret, never once feeling contrived. It's an exploration of honest emotions and an examination of failure, and it sucks you into its deep, dense world--an absolute engulfment. It transcends both Goth and post-punk, becoming an exhibition of humanity's ugliest, saddest failures. The deep, romantic layers of instrumentation of thick veils and drapes laid over these laments.
Through every hardship and every frustration I come about in my life, Disintegration will always be with me. It grabs me and puts me under the microscope, but it's right next to me. It's the only album that can do that much to me aside from The Downward Spiral, and before it clicked, I didn't think anything would ever top it for me. Even during the creating of this list, I constantly flipped the orders. But Disintegration came out as the winner, if just by a nudge. Its deep, mysterious, layered beauty still captivates me, and yet, simultaneously, it somehow eludes me, as if I still haven't fully uprooted everything about it. It's still down there in that deep dark ocean, still waiting for me to understand it fully. But every time I listen to it, every time I let it examine me, I peel back a new layer and find a new thread, each more beautiful than the last while completing the picture. And that picture, dark and miserable thing it is, is rapturously beautiful.
And that is how I met your mother.