Hesitation Marks

I LOVE LOVE LOVE LOVE LOVE the new Nine Inch Nails album, "Hesitation Marks."  I had grown, over time, to expect that Trent (like myself) was aging gracefully, and you know...writing scores for movies and winning Grammys and not expecting him to make much more music under the Nine Inch Nails banner.  

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.

Then, this happened.  And by this, I mean my own mother was telling me she LIKED the score from Girl With the Dragon Tattoo, and wasn't this guy someone I liked?  Uh, mom...you grounded me for an ENTIRE SUMMER for sneaking out and going to their concert.  Yes, this is someone I love.  You hate this person.  You told me both Pretty Hate Machine and Broken were NEVER to be played in the house again.  (Something about her being offended by me yelling "FIST FUCK!" probably did it.)  

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.