The National, A Skin, A Night and The Virginia EP

It took me a long time to come around to The National. They even admit to being a slow-grower in A Skin, A Night, a film marketed as being documentary about the band and the creation of last year’s sleeper Boxer. While Boxer is a truly amazing piece of music, something that I personally would like to retroactively add to my list of top albums of 2007, this “documentary” doesn’t quite document anything.

When you hear the word “documentary,” you think of a motion picture featuring interviews with the subjects, footage of the subjects in action, interviews with people who know the subjects, and so on. There are no real interviews in A Skin, A Night; there is no discussion with anyone who knows them. A Skin, A Night is less a documentary than it is a series of artsy clips, snapshots into The National’s existence, with little in the way of any substance. There are scenes of the band performing, and these short clips are the only lively parts in the whole hour of this DVD. It’s as though The National kept wandering into the range of director Vincent Moon’s camera while they were talking to themselves, and Moon had a pile of pretty footage or unrelated material. Moon then mated all that stuff together, thus creating his pretentious monstrosity. There’s too much art and not enough insight; I come away from this film with no greater understanding of The National than if I stared at the album cover for an hour. For a film that was supposed to be an insight into the band’s creative process, it doesn’t have much of an informative effect. With little redeeming information, this gets very boring, very fast. It felt like the longest hour of my life, with the constant question echoing in my head, “Will this ever end?

The footage is comprised entirely of grainy, overexposed shots that at times make it hard to distinguish what color is what, or whether this was shot in black and white and the vague semblance of color is an optical illusion. While I love the whole stylishly grainy look, it’s not appropriate for a documentary. To be fair, A Skin, A Night is filled with some beautiful images, but how many times do we have to look out the windows of subway trains? Moon seems obsessed with the view out of windows of moving vehicles; look at the back cover of the case and its view across a plane wing if you don’t believe me.

So, it’s a pretentious art film that was sold as a documentary. False advertising, and vexing with its boredom. On first viewing, I kept waking myself with the sound of my own snoring. If you absolutely have to watch this, I recommend putting on a pot of coffee beforehand. Unless grainy art films are your thing, that is. If so, this will be entirely enjoyable and completely fascinating to you. For those of us looking for some kind of insight into how The National created Boxer, there is nothing but disappointment hiding on this disc.

A Skin, A Night is packaged with The Virginia EP, a CD of b-sides, demos, and some live tracks. Since I’ve only ever heard Boxer, I can’t really say how this compares to the rest of their discography. However, I can say that, given how mind-numbing A Skin, A Night is, The Virginia EP would have been better off being sold separate as a rarities collection rather than being paired with this ghastly thing.

The Virginia EP clocks in at about 48 minutes, which most of us would agree is well over what an EP runs. Wikipedia tells me this is labeled an EP because the it’s made up of mostly previously released material. A consideration I have is that once a release is considered an EP the cost automatically goes down (bands also gets paid less for EPs vs. full albums). Perhaps they called this an EP to help keep the overall price lower than what it would have been had the called it a full-length. At an MSRP of $19.98, I think it’s overpriced anyway, but that has to do with the DVD bundled with the CD.

What can I say about the songs on The Virginia EP? They are made up of the same understated potency we have grown to love about The National. It opens with “You’ve Done It Again, Virginia,” a song so beautiful that I wish it were stretched beyond its pitiful three minutes. “Santa Clara” and “Blank Slate” will sound familiar if you already have the “Mistaken for Strangers” single. “Blank Slate” is a bit more up-tempo than I’m used to hearing from The National, but that’s not a criticism, mind you. The demos are interesting in that they present a much more raw sound, with some growl to a few of them. I like that; it shows a different side to the band, just a shade darker than what we’re used to. Of these, “Rest of Years” is my favorite. Their live cover of Bruce Springsteen’s “Mansion on the Hill” is quite good. Hearing the live version of “Fake Empire” makes me want to see The National on tour.

Keep in mind that this doesn’t collect all of their b-sides. Pretty much, this only covers one b-side from the Alligator singles and already released singles from Boxer. I find it curious that they would release a collection with such items so quickly after the originating album, especially considering there are still singles waiting for release (or so it is rumored; supposedly, “Fake Empire” will be a single this year). As I stated previously, The Virginia EP would have been better served as a separate release from the film. Moreover, it would have been even better if it were a true b-sides and rarities collection, gathering all the b-sides from their early releases in addition to what was on the as-released disc.

If there is one thing to truly hate about this release, it’s the package. The two discs are held in place by two black plastic marshmallow-like things glued to a folded piece of cardboard. The whole thing flattens far too easily; beware, as I have seen copies in stores that are squished. I can’t imagine this arrangement would provide much protection to the discs, and find myself handling the whole thing with great care. The only art printed on the package are black and white stills from the film.

If I learned anything informative from Vincent Moon’s take on The National, it’s that Vincent Moon films are to be avoided. However, I am infinitely more interested in The National’s material after watching, so at least there was a mild success to the film, even if I disliked the film itself. The b-sides and rarities in The Virginia EP are a treat, and are what you should really be concerned with as far as this package is concerned, but even then aren’t essential to own. If you are looking to buy this, make sure you are concerned more with the music than the droning film. I want to recommend this to hard-core fans of The National, but I don’t know if even they will like this. If you are that odd niche consumer that drools for artsy grainy films and just happens to like The National, then by all means, this will be the best thing and I can’t recommend it more. But if you’re like me, or even an average fan of this exquisite band, this release will be a mixed bag, and you will not be 100% satisfied with it.



The National's website and myspace

No, I don't really need your discipline: Nine Inch Nails, The Slip

Due to the lack of anything else on hand to work with, and the fact that I’m not of the inclination to do another opinion piece, I’m going to run the risk of being filleted alive by my usual readers and throw some good-natured darts at a dartboard named The Slip. Since you are reading this, it is safe to assume you have internet access, and therefore safe to assume that you have heard about the latest excretion from the Nine Inch Nails womb.

I wonder if the title is a reference to the fact that Mr. Reznor has given Interscope the slip, sort of a 43 minute “f#ck you” to his former overseers. “Hey guys! Look at me giving away music! Count your money now, you chimps!” In that respect, I have to give Mr. Reznor credit for simply throwing all ideas about profit to the wind. He probably could have made himself a million for the second time in a year had be dropped it with a similar pay scale as this year’s prior release, Ghosts I-IV; instead, he decided to surprise us with a gift. Unfortunately, I find this gift to be rather bland. There’s nothing to really hate about it, it’s entirely listenable, but I don’t find anything so grabbing as to make me soil my pants in excitement. I usually don’t do a track-by-track review, but here’s some notes jotted down about each song as I was listening.

1. “999,999”: Opening ambiance; nothing to really say.
2. “1,000,000”: Loud, noisy, catchy beat, tight, fun and jumpy. The lyrics are of the depressed, suicidal variety of high-school overemotional dross we’ve come to expect from Nine Inch Nails, but if you’re seriously going to complain about Reznor’s lyrical quality, I’m afraid I’m going to have to beat you upside the head with the studded aluminum baseball bat of knowledge. Trent Reznor has never been known for writing fantastic lyrics, so shut up. His strength is in being blunt about how he’s feeling. But, what does Reznor have to be depressed about? He’s got one boot firmly planted in the back of the bloated corpse of the American music industry, waving both middle fingers in the air and screaming, “I told you nothing could stop me now, but you didn’t believe me! Why didn’t you believe me?!” He may feel like he’s a million miles away, but is that such a bad place to be?
3. “Letting You”: The sort of aggressive quick beat thing that I never cared much for in NIN music. Nothing new, but not as obnoxious as, say, “Getting Smaller.”
4. “Discipline”: The criticism of ‘gay disco’ has been made since this dropped, so I don’t think I need to beat it with that stick. Might be fun to dance to, as Trent intended; might also make good sex music.
5. “Echoplex”: I gave this a rating of ‘meh’ when I first heard it. It has grown slightly on me, but I’m still not crazy about it. Feels like it drags out the end unnecessarily.
6. “Head Down”: Doesn’t do anything for me.
7. “Lights In The Sky”: The sort of slow-building track that always winds up 6-8 tracks in, a.k.a. the quiet song. Feels like the quiet song has been done better on prior albums.
8. “Corona Radiata”: Interesting title. Instrumental that isn’t bad, but not great either. Puts me to sleep, actually.
9. “The Four of Us Are Dying”: … and so am I while listening to this. Not awful, but a bit too meandering.
10: “Demon Seed”: The transition from the prior track is jarring. Really not impressed with this one. Same angry stuff we’ve been hearing since day one.

Maybe I’ve become jaded, but after Ghosts I-IV (and prior masterpieces), I’ve come to expect a bit more out of Mr. Reznor. This whole thing sounds like the same thing we’ve been hearing for the past couple years. While I’m glad he hasn’t gone completely loopy and transitioned to big band lounge music, a change in pace would be nice. I’ve been seriously trying to like this album all damn week, but every time I run through it, it bores me even more. There’s plenty of energy, but no real spark. I have to admit, I feel kind of like I’m picking on the handicapped kid considering this release was handed out to all the fans as a thank you. However, just because it was given freely doesn’t mean we have to accept it for what it is and be jubilant solely because it was free.

I’m genuinely surprised at how fast this came out. Most artists tend to wait a while for the shockwaves of their prior release to die down a bit before running out and dropping another album on the heads of the listening public. Not Trent; oh no, my dears, he lacks that particular strain of patience. A mere month after Ghosts, and he’s at it again. No one can fault the man as lacking motivation.

The speed of this release most likely has something to do with his shaking loose the shackles of label supervision. While his new-found freedom may seem exciting initially, it is not without its issues. Having no-one serving the purpose of an editor above him may actually be detrimental to the process and final result. There’s nobody to stand over his shoulder and say, “Trent, this sucks,” or, “Trent, didn’t we do this already?” Editorial review is an essential part to any artistic expression. When a novel is in the process of publication, there is a whole army of people picking over it with a fine-tooth comb searching for mistakes, errors, and things that just don’t work. Imagine if a book went to press before someone stopped the author with the news, “Pages 137-145 look like a cat snuck into your house and had a seizure on the keyboard, while the entire last chapter is punctuated solely with semi-colons; what gives?” A supervisory entity makes sure the final product is worthwhile, and, lacking any sort of overseer, Trent is pretty much running around like a child hopped up on too many glasses of cream soda. It's a whole load of fun, but is it good?

[Detour] However, this criticism would be more valid had the music industry not decided to take a page out of Hollywood’s playbook and create whole catalogs of sound-alike mediocrity. Frank Herbert, in the introduction to his short story collection Eye, explained the Hollywood technique: Don’t take risks. Find out what succeeds and copy it. The record industry has taken to that methodology with a fervor and now the radiowaves are populated with cookie-cutter pop-punk acts and legions of rock bands chanting, “Let’s be like Nickelback.” Derivation is one thing. We wouldn’t have much of our great contemporary music if the current crop of musicians didn’t nick at least a bite off their predecessors, but this is outright cloning! Around the end of last summer, I kept hearing on the radio a song that if you held a gun to my head and told me to correctly identify the band, you may as well have just painted the walls with my brains since I could have sworn it was Avril Lavigne. It wasn’t; it was someone that had the same insipid lyrics and annoying voice. I ask, has it always been like this and I was just unobservant? Was the music industry really better "way back when?" The point being that the record heads, instead of doing a good job of bringing new and compelling music to the masses and insisting on their signed musicians to stop being like everyone else, celebrate the blatant ripping-off of contemporaries to make a quick buck with radio-friendly repetition. It’s not unexpected to say a company wants to make money, but, Christ, they can at least pretend to care about artistic growth on the occasion. [End Detour]

One could argue that The Slip is a clone of With Teeth, but I don’t support that notion. The Slip strikes me more has being a cousin to With Teeth, dressing and talking the same way but trying to have a modicum of individuality. It’s not a bad album, but doesn’t make any distinctions in the Nine Inch Nails catalogue. Personally, I feel that this vein of music is dried up and at risk of getting infected and requiring amputation of the whole limb should Trent insist on continuing to stick it with needles. Ghosts I-IV spoiled us with a new and exciting direction, taking the high road of artsy instrumentals while The Slip is more like a slide down Been There, Done That Avenue. Some might find that comfortable, like a familiar old blanket. There’s nothing here we haven’t heard before; it’s the same pattern of anger/thrash/something danceable/more anger/instrumental/more thrash/end of album. If you liked With Teeth and Year Zero, then sign onto this one because it’s more of the same. The fact that it’s sticking to the pattern is mitigated by the fact that it’s free, so take five minutes out of your day, download it, and come to your own conclusions.



Nine Inch Nails official website