The Becoming: The Growth of Nine Inch Nails By Allison Broesder The latest Nine Inch Nails release fell on almost silent ears as review after review dismissed it without giving it a fair chance. Although And All That Could Have Been is classified as a live album (on DVD and VHS) it is the companion disk Still that several critics have glossed over. The deconstructed tracks from previous works along with the newer pieces demonstrate the growth in Trent Reznor as a musician, from the days of Pretty Hate Machine to this latest release. It is this growth that makes the album Still worth owning. Its complexity and depth are not easily found with a first or second listen, but must be appreciated in several sessions that perhaps other albums would not require. It is the use of new themes and ideas that display a growth of the music in ways that were only hinted at on previous works, and possibly a preview of things to come in the future. Comparing the originals with the new versions on Still, as well as analyzing the new songs, can allow the growth of Nine Inch Nails to be examined in a clear way. Still begins with a deconstructed version of Something I Can Never Have, originally found on 1989's Pretty Hate Machine. The original Something I Can Never Have was a dark song, full of bitterness surrounded by electronic noise with the piano hidden in the back. The voice on the Pretty Hate Machine version is younger, somber, yet bitter. This bitterness in the song sets the darker theme not found in the Still version. The Still version is mature and sorrowful instead of than being bitter or angered. Rather than using an electronic background, a piano dominates the song, causing it to become more humanized due to this imperfect sound. The slow entrance of quiet piano introducing the song is one of regret. The notes in the beginning set the entire mood, setting the listener almost into another mindset that will last the entire CD. In the new version, piano is the lone voice in the beginning, no background noise accompanying it, except for a lone stringed instrument. The darker electronic sounds from the original is are gone, replaced with a somber feel from the piano and guitar. Along with the change in instrumentation, the voice is different. Softer, older and more mature, the song's presentation is transformed because of how the song is sung. Growth has taken place since the debut of Nine Inch Nails; letting "Something I Can Never Have" open the disc connects the days gone by with the current, presenting itself in a neat package which carries through out the entire disc. "Adrift and At Peace" displays the softer, complex and sorrowful side without the anger. This song, which places the listener almost into a floating state by the use of the piano over the programming in the background, exhibits a human feel and emotion. The gentle grace of the flowing rhythm captures the mind of the listener. It is this gentle sound of a slow cascade of notes; similar to waves washing slowly over a floating object in the sea that sets a mood of peace. Instead of the machinery overbearing the humanity of the piece, it is the humanity that is more powerful in its slow graceful motion and sorrowful quality. The programming in the background is a mirroring of the piano piece, slow, gentle and serene. As the song flows along, the programming takes a more human side, intermixed with a foreboding dark theme as if someone is rising up from the murky waters to reach peaceful, calm shores. As the song closes off, the quiet notes end it peacefully, completing the rise through murky waters to arrive at peace. It is a song similar to the "Frail" or "La Mer", yet demonstrates a softer side without the elements of something being picked apart lying underneath. Instead, it is the humanity overcoming the machinery that underlies the song; a new theme not seen before. This theme displays a new maturity of Nine Inch Nails as multi-dimensional. "The Fragile" appears in a deconstructed fashion sounding somber and sorrowful. It is slower in tempo and quieter in sound. The lyrics are presented in a soft manner, almost as if it is a song being sung after a failure, where the original almost seems to be a prequel to a disaster. Acceptance of a tragedy is brought out in the music. Regret fills the song, building into a climax that is similar to the original version found on the Fragile. Again, the use of piano is crucial to the performance of the song, bringing out a side that is softer and more in depth than before. While the original relies heavily on percussion to drive the song, it is the piano that drives the deconstructed version so that it is appealing to the listener in a different way. While both exhibit a maturity and depth, it seems two different people composed the two versions; the differences between the two are so great. The original involves more evident programming and is paired with the percussion not found in the new deconstructed version appearing on Still. Even more drastically changed in instrumentation and presentation is the "Becoming," originally found on the Downward Spiral. While the majority of the programming is still in place instrumental-wise, it is the voice that is left human through out the entire song. The version found on Still demonstrates the development of a mature change that isn't found in the Downward Spiral version. Anger is displayed less in the new version on Still, having been replaced with regret and sorrow. The piano is a stronger element to the song. The differences of the two songs truly do lie in how the singing has changed. Rather than being almost overwhelmed with programming, it is instead brought forward. With its complex musical presentation in both versions, it is the Still rendition that exhibits a change from a "wall of sound" into an accompaniment of sound with the human voice. While the Downward Spiral's "Becoming" was set for the concept of the album's tone, message, and story, the Still version is a separate piece, standing alone to make its own message on new merits. Though a lot of the original instrumentation is left intact, this change from machinery dominating human voice shows us how Reznor has grown throughout the years since the Downward Spiral's release. It is a change made, not for the better or worse, but a simple statement of growth and maturity not evident in the previous works. "Gone, Still" is another complex piano song placed within the deconstructed pieces. More sorrowful than "Adrift and At Peace," it relies not only on the piano to convey its message, but on the guitar as well. Programming in the background adds to the regretful sound. It is a piece filled with softness and grace that adds a texture to Trent Reznor's clout as a musician not found in other musical pieces he's produced. While maintaining a use of electronics, he no longer makes them the focus of the song, but more of an accessory. Though there are no words in the song, the slow, deliberate strumming of the strings sounds as if the title is being repeated over and over, giving the music a new avenue to present itself. The programming in the background is a bit darker than "Adrift and At Peace," appearing to be more somber. It, coupled with the strings later on, gives the song a feeling of regret and sadness not presented in such a way before now. Much like "Adrift and At Peace," the programming sets a darker mood behind the piano and strings. The title suggests something has been taken, while the aftermath is still and quiet. Unlike previous works, acceptance has taken place, carrying the new theme found on The Fragile through out the rest of the album. The final deconstructed song appears in "The Day The World Went Away," originally found on The Fragile. While the original relies on heavy guitar as a lead into the lyrics, as well as an accompaniment, it is in the Still version that growth of musicianship is evident. It is slower and more calculated than the original. The piano, as most of the songs found on Still, is used heavily. Slower lyric delivery and instrumentation places more regret into the song. This also follows the acceptance theme of the album, changing the entire tone. Strings are brought out more and the guitars are no longer harsh, but slowly strummed in low notes. While the original has a similar strumming sound, it is amplified in the Still version, to bring it out and change the mood of the piece, dropping harsher guitar sounds entirely. The piano accompanies the guitar, giving it a softer feeling, with regret gliding below its quiet acceptance. The lyrics where the "Na Na's" were are no longer sung, but rather played on both piano and guitar. The soft "ooing" at the end, found on the original, is brought forward for emphasis, adding another texture of gentle acceptance to the song, fitting in with the tone of Still, presenting a new musical statement. Grace flows throughout the piece in a new way. The final track with the lyrics, "And All That Could Have Been," begins with a water sound and slight programming exhibiting a hollow sound with guitar. Some of the background programming is similar to other tracks before it, yet has a softer tone and is more hidden. This connects old with new, giving Nine Inch Nails new direction while not forgetting where it has been. The lyrics are sung in a slow manner, implying a regret and sadness. Piano and guitar mesh with programming to produce the sound of the song in its slow, calculated manner. It is a continuation of The Fragile's story, the song representing a protection of someone from himself in the song, as if he's failed them in some way. The chorus causes the listener to believe the singer has regrets. "Please take this/and run far away/far away from me/I am/tainted/the two of us/were never meant to be" reflect previous themes; yet present them in new ways, demonstrating a growth. This follows along with the acceptance theme of the record, giving a new statement to Nine Inch Nails' music. Throughout the song, it is evident that the singer has accepted that he is "tainted" and therefore would rather push those not tainted away to keep them from becoming such as himself. "If only I could see/in my/ nothing/you meant everything/everything to me" The lyrics in the song present an answer to the "Fragile," either version, which seals the story up. The singer feels that if he had let this person help him, perhaps he wouldn't be at this stage that he finds himself in now. Now that he has lost this person, due to his self-hate and lack of self-worth, perhaps the most important person (the person in The Fragile) would still be with him now and this is his one big regret. It is the story of The Fragile, come full circle. While some critics would state that it is simple rehash of previous statements, it is a statement that holds on its own in a way that others before it did not. It also is the continuation of a story, where characters have changed and grown since the last chapter, something critics may have missed while listening to the song. "The Persistence of Loss" is the second to last track. It is a somber piece with a heavy, low sounding piano conversing with a higher piano sound. It is slower and darker than "Adrift and At Peace" and "Gone, Still." While a light piano part floats above the top, it is the foreboding sounds of the strings and low piano that dominate the song throughout. It is a dark song with many layers; hope lurking above and desolation sinking at the bottom. Similar to "Adrift and At Peace," hope is attempting to cut through murkiness and glide across the top of the dark, foreboding strings and programming which are trying to drag it down. Though it has been seen before on previous albums, it is shown now in a new way. It is softer, less bitter, following the new theme of acceptance found in "Gone, Still" and the "Fragile." The song is a conversation without words, as if each side is talking to itself. It is a piece that demonstrates Reznor's ability as pianist, arranger and composer to use traditional instruments in ways not thought of previously while adding his personal style of programming for the full effect of the ongoing theme of humanity against machine, found in older works. This mixture of traditional with Reznor's personal style shows changing views while maintaining older ones that still fit within the vision of the music. "Leaving Hope," the final track, seals the album up in its instrumental presentation. While quiet programming and piano mimicking water leads into the song, as the song truly begins, it is evident that the piano is the star. Slow, deliberate execution of the song sums the entire album's mood up into one song, along with the growth and change that Nine Inch Nails and Trent Reznor have had. Much like "Persistence of Loss," a conversation seems to be going on in the song, yet the strings and piano parts are conversing with one another, rather than ignoring each other. While programming is used, it is simply giving the song a flavor that might not be evident without. It is the calculated use of programming that makes the entire piece fit nicely and snuggly together, the piano, strings and programming meshing into each other to fit into a tight, clean musical package. The music flows like water almost, showing a slow regret with hope, though the title of the track would leave one to believe otherwise. This connects it to the previous instrumental tracks found on Still. The new themes mixing with the older ones, showing growth while maintaining the older themes as previous songs have done, seals the message of the album into one song. Here, in the final track, it is humanity and machinery that have found a way to co-exist. There is no fighting from the humanity, nor is the machinery overbearing. Strings end the song quietly, allowing the fade out of the album as an ending fit perfectly. The tiny fragment of voice at the very end as fade out occurs embodies the spirit of the entire album as a human presentation in a way that is beautiful and intoxicating. Still, as a whole, is an album that gives us a look into the growth of Trent Reznor as a musician. Tracks from previous albums altered by using different approaches and different instruments demonstrate to fans and critics alike the maturity and growth that has occurred. Rather than an album to be dismissed, it is an album that ought to be listened to and enjoyed for its majestic beauty and complexity. It is not light, but more of an album one might use to think or reflect upon their own experiences. Though some fans and critics may feel disappointed with so few new songs and only one new vocal track, given a chance many of these same people may find themselves enjoying the depth and thoughtfulness of the album. Perhaps it is a new direction for Nine Inch Nails and Trent Reznor, or perhaps it is a start to incorporate both harsh- sounding programming with quieter songs on future albums. Whatever people think of it, only one person knows the future of the music: Trent Reznor.