Trent Reznor slips between melancholy, dark seduction and vehement rage without warning. As his primary weapon, the man has an uncanny talent for capturing the sound of sadness, the theme song of despair. But his obvious knack for the morose is often overshadowed by his moments of musical violence, often directed inwards and laced with self-loathing. On 1992s Broken, Reznor was at his most vitriolic. A vast departure from the synth-pop stylings of his debut Pretty Hate Machine, Broken was all spit and grizzle, all the time. Were told there was a major dispute between Trent and his label at the time, and this sophomore album has been called a big, dirty middle finger to TVT Records and the evil edge of the music industry that they represent. But Broken is a machine gun of hatred, hardly confined to some corporate squabble - its the soundtrack to self mutilation, the backing track to a storm of violence towards, well, everyone. Unlike the complex, expansive and beautiful The Downward Spiral which followed it, Broken was direct and caustic. There was little in the way of respite from the raging industrial warfare. It scored Reznor a Grammy for the brutal fist-pumping mosh anthem Wish, a brilliant epileptic fit of a track that set the tone for the whole album.
Game-obsessed since the moment I could twiddle both thumbs independently. Equally enthralled by all the genres of music that your parents warned you about.
