How to Destroy Angels

Hello again, Dear Reader.

So Trent Reznor formed a band with his new wife Mariqueen Something or other (can’t remember her last name, sorry!), and also longtime collaborator Atticus Ross called “How to Destroy Angels.” That’s a slightly terrible title, but Reznor has always gotten away with pretentiousness. Anyway, they released their debut EP for free over the internet a little while back, but it’s only hitting stores now. I’ve been listening to it for a few weeks, and it’s been an interesting experience. It’s not bad music, but it suffers from being too similar to Nine Inch Nails. Perhaps that’s only fair, Reznor has been recording under that name for two decades now, but it’s still the case. The instrumentation is literally impossible to discern from a NIN record.

Of course, the big change from NIN to HTDA is Reznor’s wife, Mariqueen, is now on vocals. I’m all for a chick leading Trent’s music, but I think they have a little more work to do first. Someone pointed out in a review recently that HTDA teaches you just how much you underestimated Trent’s singing abilities, and it’s quite true. I had always assumed that his voice broke even at best; it’s thin-sounding, lacks diaphragm support, and doesn’t take to a wide emotional range very well. But even if all of those things are true, I was still wrong. It turns out, Trent’s voice has been a crucial anchor in his music, in ways far deeper than any of us ever appreciated. Something about the character of his voice bridges the gap between man and machine. Even the thinness is actually an asset, because it allows him to avoid boisterousness when his lyrics go kind of dorky. The man evolved his sound in step with his voice, and when you replace it, it’s surprising how much of the formula falls apart.

I had begun to wonder if that wasn’t the case when he released “The Slip,” the last NIN record. The thing was free, so you’ll never hear me complain about it, but I could never shake the sensation that it was tossed off. The songwriting was solid but unremarkable, and the record lacked those meteoric highs that NIN albums almost always achieve. The production was clean but kind of small, especially when compared to the epic scope of most of Trent’s work.

And yet, “The Slip” is a great album. Actually, it may be one of NIN’s best. How these two truths could exist together bothered me for quite some time. I admit I’m not positive I understand it even now, but there are at least two factors involved: first, “The Slip’s” casual nature was actually a refreshing change of pace. NIN has never made a sub-par album, but especially on “The Fragile,” he can get a little bogged down in ambition. These LPs become almost exhausting because of how hard Trent pushes himself, and how obsessively he checks and re-checks every note. It gets to the point that you end up with records that are grand, and deep, and satisfying, but also heavy, and laborious, and exhausting.

“The Slip” is like a sports car, it zips around effortlessly. It’s the closest the band may ever come to punk. And, because Reznor actually slacks off a bit and relaxes, it actually feels fun. These uncluttered, stripped down little beasts let you get right to the candy center of what makes Nine Inch Nails so compelling. They’re like shot glasses full of industrial pop. It also helps that the record features two of Reznor’s finest instrumental pieces ever, “The Four of us are Dying” and “Demon Seed” (not technically an instrumental since he keeps chanting things, but come on).

And the second reason, circling back to HTDA, is Trent himself. Some assume that Reznor’s gift is to bring depth to the music with his voice, but I think it’s actually the exact opposite: he brings lightness. His touch is deft, skipping over the depths of the notes like a stone over water. You might almost consider his singing as some kind of musical grammar, creating sequences and order out of walls of noise. That he can do this while never feeling invisible or unimportant means that Trent is a master of tonal control. When a song is corny, it’s corny in the right way. When it’s over the top, it gets away with it. It’s no small thing to maintain this kind of precision over twenty years.

The point is, by removing this essential ingredient, HTDA suffers. “The Spaces in Between” is a menacing, low-key ballad that would have scored a touchdown with Trent on the mic, but with Mariqueen it goes flat. That’s not because she’s a bad singer, she’s actually quite good, but the music that the band is writing is firmly, unavoidably NIN. It’s just going to take them time to shake that off. “Parasite” fairs a little better, but the vocals are more submerged there, so it’s hard to count that as a victory.

But hope is not lost. There are two tracks that really score victories: “Fur Lined” and “The Believers.” The latter is pretty much a winner because, again, the vocals are in more of a supporting role, but it’s still a great song. “Fur Lined,” on the other hand, is all Mariqueen, and it’s a giant success. The trick here is that the music is tonally distinct from anything NIN would do. It’s not only spunky, it’s actually feminine, and that’s the trick to making HTDA a good band. They must, must, must write vocal parts that Trent cannot and would not do. The high point of the song comes midway through the second verse, when Mariqueen suddenly pops up into a semi-squeal on, “I don’t want to lose control!” In this moment, I can see where this band should go, and they need more like it. Their lead singer is wasted on “A Drowning” because she’s forced to keep her voice down in the basement, where it does not want to be. The song is an utter snooze fest, and runs about three minutes too long. “The Spaces in Between” fares better because the chorus is solid, but the opening line of “All our blood lying on the floor” is a dud. The song really starts off on a bad foot, but manages to save itself. And really, Mariqueen has a good voice for this kind of music: it’s unpretentious, elegant, and she has great control of it. But it must be implemented correctly to really soar.

In conclusion, “How to Destroy Angels” is a perfectly good EP, especially for NIN fans. It’s a more mellow take on Trent’s style, which a lot of people may find appealing, and all of the songs are sturdily written and constructed. However, I fear that many people are going to wink wink nudge nudge think of this as an unofficial NIN release, and they may continue to do so until HTDA asserts itself. “Fur Lined” is a great first step, it almost felt like a blend of NIN and Tegan and Sara (and I adore both, so bring it on). Keep on pushing in that direction.