I was extremely disappointed with the prior albums, "With Teeth" was weak at best, and whatever that last thing was with the twenty eight million tracks of noise was awful. Then, he forms a band with his wife. Okay, I give up.
So, needless to say, I put old Trent up on the shelf with the rest of the bands that I used to LIVE for (see Weezer, Superdrag, Hot Hot Heat) that basically fell off and started making music I either couldn't understand, or (god forbid) became liked by my parents. I've recently lost Alabama Shakes to them, and I'm not happy about it. Mumford and Sons you can have but...
This is what I wanted.
This is what I saw.
Okay, so enter my magical John, who knows EVERYTHING about music, telling me that NIN has a new album. I'm like, "So? Is it going to be a bunch of noise tracks again because of Mr. I-Write-Scores?" John shut me up quick. He played the streaming audio from Pitchfork as well as the tracks that were becoming available on their website. Hell, Trent streamed the ENTIRE ALBUM for you, if you were willing to listen.
I died. I felt like I was thirteen again, drinking a Zima in the back of Brooke's car. I could not believe the dance-ability, the beats, the lyrics...I thought, "How could I have ever doubted you?" I felt like I got my angry, teeth-grinding, mud-slinging, black-mesh-wearing, torn-black-everything boyfriend back.
Even John, who was not a diehard NIN nerd like I am, cannot stop listening to the record. He quotes it regularly, and it is on repeat here in the house. I love the whole journey this one man band has taken me on, and I am stoked that it's not over or geriatric in nature. It's as young and pissed off as it ever was. Thank you, Trent.
Now, I will brave the nightmare that is Ticketmaster and see how much the cheapest/furthest-away-from-chaotic-slam-dancers seats to the tour are. They are coming to the Staples Center in November and I am too old for that moshing shit.