the story of low

by laura j. valentine

Forget the years that separate two of the musical genii of our time. Forget the difference in their upbringing, the musical distance that seems to pull the two apart. Focus on the similarities -- they are the voices of two generations; they are the new, the experimental; they both have had those followers who mimic their hair, their makeup, their clothes. Focus on the fact that the roots of one are deep in the music of the other.

Nine Inch Nails' Trent Reznor has said that David Bowie's Low is one of his (undoubtedly numerous) inspirations. Flowing from the period of time that Bowie spent in Berlin, this half-instrumental album is not any darker than the post-apocalyptic Diamond Dogs -- but, unlike that work, it offers no redemption. This album wants you to be insane, risk-taking, lonely, lost, always on the move. It wants you to feel pain, to be oppressed, to strike out in violent rages.

It cannot be coincidence that much of Reznor's work makes one feel the same way. There are musical as well as thematic similarities in the two men's creative output. One example: Low's "Be My Wife" and the downward spiral's "closer." Both deal with the maddening, desperate desire for another human being to break the loneliness of existence. Granted, "closer" is much more grating, much more raw and animalistic -- where "Be My Wife" is agonizingly lonely, "closer" is violently clutching. Thematically, these pieces are strikingly close, but the difference in the styles of the two musicians is what drives them apart musically. Bowie is polished, appealing to emotion with the acclaimed (stereotypical) subtlety of the aristocrat; Reznor goes for the gut and the gonads much more openly.

This is not to say that Nine Inch Nails lacks subtlety or polish -- "reptile" deals with a similar theme as the two above pieces, but it takes hold in a much more insidious way, demonstrating Reznor's obvious talent for this sort of music. The last three tracks on the downward spiral ("reptile," title track, and "hurt") show off his bent for the delicate and razor-edged brand of music that Bowie is known for and that is so evident on Low.

But David Bowie is capable of raw emotion, too. He can reach in, grab, and twist just as well as Reznor does, as demonstrated in the brooding, violent Low track "Breaking Glass". "Breaking Glass" is not as abrasive as much of the downward spiral, but it has much of the dark feel of that work, and similar elements: whining synthesizers, heavy instrumental "background" which is nearly as strong as the vocals, violence-edged lyrics. "Baby, I've been breaking glass in your room again...don't look at the carpet, I drew something awful on it...." This piece is perhaps the Bowie track that is most musically similar to anything Reznor has written. (Let's ignore, for now, the fact the Reznor unintentionally lifted "a warm place" from Bowie's "Crystal Japan", shall we?)

Further in, we find Bowie's self-nihilistic "Always Crashing in the Same Car". Although it is not a thematically similar piece, "i do not want this" contains the lyrics "i'm always falling down the same hill" -- a construction identical to "I'm always crashing in the same car." Given Reznor's acknowledgement of the album Low as an influence, I tend towards the thought that this is a deliberate reference. Reznor's self-nihilism comes out elsewhere, perhaps most clearly in "eraser", which shares some musical elements with "Always Crashing in the Same Car." "eraser" starts out with a much stronger and heavier feel than "Always Crashing in the Same Car", but the the melody that soon begins to weave its way through is striking in its similarity to the earlier work. Later, Reznor's voice starts off in much the same casually dark tone as Bowie's, although it (and the music) shifts to a much more rough-edged sound once the self-nihilistic section of the lyrics arrives. This highlights another stylistic difference between Bowie and Reznor: Bowie lets his death and destruction speak for themselves, without any forcible vocal emphasis, but Reznor seems unwilling to do this.

Perhaps a similarity more striking than any other is the fact that both men have a gift for using instruments to "speak" to their listeners, to draw them in and emotionally involve them in the music. They don't rely on their voices alone as a medium of emotional expression, and neither of them seem to be content with making you move your body, they want to move your heart and mind. So open up and let them in -- close your eyes, feel the ghosts of their hands tearing your emotional world apart.

Laura J. Valentine (fiend+@cmu.edu) is an English major at Carnegie Mellon University in Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania. Her article nin and bowie: past as prologue appeared in Hope and Vaseline #4.

hope and vaseline -- hnv@nin.net