Feeling the pinch yet? Getting squeezed at the pump? Gouged at the grocery store? Not to worry. While Congress waffles over another round of stimulus checks and Sen. John McCain whets the collective petroleum appetite by dangling a gas tax holiday just out of reach of this nation's penny-pinching fingertips, Nine Inch Nails is actually offering a whiff of wallet-sparing practicality.
Trent Reznor - noted masochist, purveyor of wrath and nihilism - feels your pain. Go figure.
And so "The Slip," the eighth studio album from the goth-core elder statesman, comes completely free of charge to anyone with an Internet connection and 87 idle megabytes. Sonically speaking, these ten compositions adhere to conventional industrial standards. For emotional breadth and instrumental diversity, look elsewhere. This is jet-black brood-rock pummeled out with all the delicacy of hurdling shrapnel. Though Reznor incorporates ambient intermissions, including the seven-minute epic "Corona Radiata," to ease the corrosive tension, the initial aural ambush simply overwhelms.
In addition to hooky vocal melodies, "Echoplex" and "1,000,000" demonstrate Reznor's affinity for laptop tinkering. Meticulous production not withstanding, the constant rhythmic battering courtesy of earsplitting percussion takes a toll. Coincidentally, repeated thwacking of a spatula against the tin walls of an abandoned warehouse adequately replicates the drum sound.
But I'm nitpicking. Criticizing this album is like complaining about the food at a soup kitchen. It's the method of distribution, rather than the actual product, that gives "The Slip" an enormity that the music alone would not otherwise merit.
Reznor isn't a fringe artist. On the contrary, he's an alternative icon backed by a fanatical legion and a bankable brand name. By giving away new material with no strings attached, he's effectively driving another nail in the already sealed major label coffin.
In terms of fanfare, "The Slip" will no doubt flounder in the shadow of Radiohead's "In Rainbows" despite its more user-friendly logistics. The British quintet offered its latest album via a pay-what-you-want system which resulted in a pocketbook coup d'état, allowing the band to cash in on a yet-untapped reservoir of goodwill. In contrast, NIN's leak doesn't require credit card numbers or soul-searching valuations, just an open mind and an open hard drive.
Options to download in a range of high-fidelity formats sweeten the package and lend to its unprecedented nature. As for Reznor and his fans, this is a win-win scenario. If the music flops, it's at a price they are willing to pay: none at all.
