Nine Inch Nails - Only (2005)
*** (of four)
I've got friends - multiple friends, including some who have never met each other and therefore could not have gotten together beforehand to concoct some massive, collective lie to pull the wool over my eyes - who swear the current Nine Inch Nails tour is one of the biggest and best concert spectacles they've ever witnessed. And I asked all of them how this was possible. Nine Inch Nails, when you break it down, is one antisocial guy with no stage presence who makes all the music on his albums via synthesizer. And they say, yeah, but Trent's got good songs and a kickass touring band and there's always some clever, trippy multimedia visual on a giant screen.
If the video for "Only" is any indication, my multiple friends who haven't all met each other could be dead on the money. Trent still has the ability to crank out a single that's partially edgy, thoroughly selfish ("There is no you, there is only me," repeated ad nauseum), yet catchy enough for ten thousand people to sing along to at an arena show. And the video, which Trent does not officially appear in, holds my attention the entire way through - and the entire thing is set at an unmanned office desk, which officially makes it VH1-worthy.
In the empty office cubicle, a laptop screen saver pulses in time with the song's beat, the computer speakers thump, the coffee ripples in its mug, and the silver balls on the Newton's Cradle clack. (I honest to God can't believe I remember that the swinging, suspended novelty balls on the desk are referred to as a Newton's Cradle. I haven't heard that term since ninth grade science class. And I'm a little bit proud of myself for not having killed that particular trivial brain cell yet.)
The centerpiece of Trent's office desk, though - one of those novelty nailbeds stood on its side, like you'd find at the Magic House (here in St. Louis) or at Wonderworks in Orlando. You know the ones I'm talking about, made out of hundreds of dull silver nails that conform to whatever shape your hand or face shoves into it. I was always the type of raunchy little cuss who would leave a fist with an extended middle finger for the next exploring soul to find.
The camera spins around the nailbed while a computer-animated Trent sings into the camera and in profile and eventually tries to break out of his stainless steel prison. The 3-D effect is uncanny, and you don't have to be drunk or stoned or rolling or tripping or huffing to appreciate the way your eyes focus on each individual nail in the nailbed. I'm not entirely sure Trent and his trippy-visual minions could keep it up for the duration of what my friends told me was an almost-three-hour show, but for four minutes on VH1 at 6:30 in the morning, it's definitely a welcome diversion.
I've got friends - multiple friends, including some who have never met each other and therefore could not have gotten together beforehand to concoct some massive, collective lie to pull the wool over my eyes - who swear the current Nine Inch Nails tour is one of the biggest and best concert spectacles they've ever witnessed. And I asked all of them how this was possible. Nine Inch Nails, when you break it down, is one antisocial guy with no stage presence who makes all the music on his albums via synthesizer. And they say, yeah, but Trent's got good songs and a kickass touring band and there's always some clever, trippy multimedia visual on a giant screen.
If the video for "Only" is any indication, my multiple friends who haven't all met each other could be dead on the money. Trent still has the ability to crank out a single that's partially edgy, thoroughly selfish ("There is no you, there is only me," repeated ad nauseum), yet catchy enough for ten thousand people to sing along to at an arena show. And the video, which Trent does not officially appear in, holds my attention the entire way through - and the entire thing is set at an unmanned office desk, which officially makes it VH1-worthy.
In the empty office cubicle, a laptop screen saver pulses in time with the song's beat, the computer speakers thump, the coffee ripples in its mug, and the silver balls on the Newton's Cradle clack. (I honest to God can't believe I remember that the swinging, suspended novelty balls on the desk are referred to as a Newton's Cradle. I haven't heard that term since ninth grade science class. And I'm a little bit proud of myself for not having killed that particular trivial brain cell yet.)
The centerpiece of Trent's office desk, though - one of those novelty nailbeds stood on its side, like you'd find at the Magic House (here in St. Louis) or at Wonderworks in Orlando. You know the ones I'm talking about, made out of hundreds of dull silver nails that conform to whatever shape your hand or face shoves into it. I was always the type of raunchy little cuss who would leave a fist with an extended middle finger for the next exploring soul to find.
The camera spins around the nailbed while a computer-animated Trent sings into the camera and in profile and eventually tries to break out of his stainless steel prison. The 3-D effect is uncanny, and you don't have to be drunk or stoned or rolling or tripping or huffing to appreciate the way your eyes focus on each individual nail in the nailbed. I'm not entirely sure Trent and his trippy-visual minions could keep it up for the duration of what my friends told me was an almost-three-hour show, but for four minutes on VH1 at 6:30 in the morning, it's definitely a welcome diversion.
posted by daytime at 4:57 AM
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