#context: off remix of one of the tracks from sonic CD

[molinaskies]

Oh… oh my god

Sonic doesn’t make a move on Amy until he realizes she’s not always gonna be there.

Sonic X has him confess after being separated from her for a week and saying goodbye to a friend he thinks he won’t see again (Chris).

Sonic accepts the date in Unleashed after Amy doesn’t recognize him in his Werehog form.

This game also takes place after 06, when he and Elise needed to sacrifice their friendship for the world (the same game that reveals Sonic has loved Amy for a long time).

Its interesting…

[liugeaux]

Linkin Park - Albums Ranked

I’ve written about Linkin Park before. It was following the death of Chester Bennington and mostly covered my mixed emotions about death. I’ve never really talked about how much I truly love the band’s work. Its been over 2 years since Chester passed and I think I‘m finally ready to dive back into the LP catalog whole-hog. As a young 17-year-old when Hybrid Theory came out  I was the right age to fall in love with everything LP was doing. Their first two albums, the unreleased debut EP and the remix collection Reanimated were permanent fixtures in my CD case. It was a time of angry white guy music and LP were literally the best at the craft.  

I’ve followed them VERY closely ever since and have always had strong opinions about each one of their albums. It's finally time to sit down, seriously critique each one and give my definitive ranking of LP’s LPs. For this list, we won’t include the aforementioned EP or any remix albums or live releases. I also won’t be including any of the many LP Underground CDs. As fun as those releases are, there are only 7 albums that actually matter. Here they are ranked from 7 to 1.    

#7 - The Hunting Party

After a couple of experimental albums, 2014′s The Hunting Party was seen as Linkin Park’s conscious effort to make a heavier, more metal record. While technically they succeeded, the results were mixed at best. Much of the metal feels forced and sometimes awkward. The lead single “Guilty All the Same” stands alone as the worst lead single in the band’s catalog. Not to say its all bad, “All For Nothing” is a legit classic and an example of LP’s strength as a “metal” act. Ultimately, It’s a gutsy album that falls flat more often than not.  

#6 - Living Things

Back when Living Things was released I wanted to like it so badly. The lead single “Burn It Down” was reminiscent of the LP sound of earlier albums and “Lost in the Echo” really resonated with me. However, they had not shed the more experimental ideas adopted on their previous album. The result was a half-hearted experiment that couldn’t seem to commit to a direction. If you were to tell me Living Things is a collection of trashed B-sides from the previous 2 albums, I would completely believe you. Even when I revisit the album I’m left with a feeling of disappointment because it could have been so good.  

#5 - One More Light

One More Light gets a bad wrap. Is it a pop album? Yes. Does that bother me? No! Should it bother you? Absolutely not! After The Hunting Party, this is exactly the album Linkin Park needed. It’s their most emotional work since Minutes to Midnight and track to track the album is immensely therapeutic. Despite most of the lyrics being your typical sad LP affair, there’s an underlying joy to the whole project. Like the band finally felt unburdened by their reputation and was making the music they wanted to make. "Sorry For Now” even sees Shinoda and Bennington pseudo swapping the rapper/singer roles. It’s really the first album where Shinoda’s singing feels natural. I’m not saying I wanted to see a new career direction, with LP making pop albums for a decade, but for that moment in time and taking into consideration the devastating events following its release, One More Light might be the perfect album.  

#4 - A Thousand Suns

A Thousand Suns was LP’s first big shake-up of the established formula. The standard Rap/Rock ingredients are technically there, but it’s wrapped in a sonic chaos of future-like abience and anchored by samples from speeches by notable historical figures like J. Robert Oppenheimer and Martin Luther King Jr. It’s a concept album that aggressively strays from anything you’ve ever heard before. To this day I’ve never heard a band steal the style and sound of A Thousand Suns, and while the rest of the LP library can be reductively placed in a “tracks that sound like the 00′s” box, A Thousand Suns stands as evidence that the band is more talented and interesting than you think. This is LP’s Ziggy Stardust, 2112, or American Idiot. It may not be their best album, but it’s absolutely their coolest. Oh, and “Waiting for the End” slaps harder than any other song in their catalog.

#3 - Meteora

Meteora had the difficult task of following up one of the most successful and influential rock albums of the new century and for the most part, it did a wonderful job of maintaining the established sound of Hybrid Theory while stretching its legs in relatively predictable directions. “Faint”, “Lying From You”, “Figure 9″ and “Numb” remain some of my favorite LP tracks. Meteora is the best representation of who LP was at the height of their reign. The sound is unmistakable and the songs are iconic. Any band would love to have an album as good as Meteora, and LP has at least 3 of them. If Hybrid Theory is the equivalent to the first time you’d ever eaten street tacos, Meteora is an entire buffet of Mexican cuisine. 

#2 - Hybrid Theory

I put more time into ranking numbers 2 and 3 than I’m willing to admit. Both of them completely took over my CD player when released and both had a large hand in shaping a portion of my emotional growth. Hybrid Theory was edgy, it was cool, it was smarter than its contemporaries and with its laser-sharp production, it commanded respect. Sure, was it angry white-dude music? Yes, but the anger and aggression came from points of weakness and believable vulnerability. I connected with Hybrid Theory so much, that 20 years later I find it hard to even speak critically of it. Its flaws are features, its signs of age help ground my own personal growth. Speaking on a personal level, Hybrid Theory MIGHT be my album of the decade. So to try and place it into the context of a ranked list is nearly impossible. Un-luckily Chester Bennington’s death helped lock in the top three of this list in ways I would have never predicted.  

#1 - Minutes to Midnight

By 2007 I was all-in, LP was MY band. When Minutes to Midnight was released I was first-in-line buying the ultra-special edition. Unfortunately at the time I just didn’t get. Like, I owned it, I just didn’t GET IT. Musically it was the next logical step in the evolution of the band and Rick Ross’ looser somewhat dirty production was a welcomed departure from the more polished Don Gilmore albums. However, for the first 10 years after its release, I thought of Minutes to Midnight as a bit of a disappointment. It’s probably 2 tracks too long, Shinoda’s singing was a bit off-putting and unlike its predecessors, it didn’t feel cohesive. Sure “What I’ve Done”, “Given Up” and “No More Sorrow” were and are some of the biggest and best anthems the band has ever recorded, Outside of that the album just felt hollow. 

In 2017 Chester Bennington ended his own life. At that point, my love for Linkin Park was still alive, but my interest in them had waned a bit. Chester’s death sent me into a music-hole like I had never experienced before. For weeks all I listened to was LP’s albums back to back. Chester’s words meant more than ever and out of that deep dive came an appreciation for Minute to Midnight I could never see coming. Songs like “Leave Out All the Rest”, “Shadow of the Day”, “Bleed it Out” and “The Little Things Give You Away” came to life with an emotional vibrancy I had never seen before. LP is at their best when they are swinging for the fences and Minutes to Midnight is them hitting grand slam after grand slam, with a few strikeouts sprinkled in. It’s flawed and beautiful, and that’s kinda the point. It’s LP’s most personal and human album, and that’s why it's at the top of this list. Prior to my 2017 revelation, it might have hovered somewhere between #’s 2 and 4, but in 2020 Minutes to Midnight is #1 with a bullet. 

[airadam]

Episode 108 : Prepare For Fire

"Leave the pills alone, realise you a drug yo'self"

- Z-Ro

The end of the ninth year of the podcast is upon us, along with a rebuild of the website (podcast.airadam.com) - hope you enjoy it. This month's selection starts off slow in pace, and picks up as we go until we reach full-on dancefloor funk! Tunes are new and old and come from Manchester, Houston, NYC, and points in-between. Let's get to it...

One more thing - Beatnuts tickets for the September 19th show in Manchester!

Twitter : @airadam13

Playlist/Notes

Z-Ro : From The Other Side

We start the episode with a pick from "No Love Boulevard", a low-slung banger from one of the more underrated artists in Hip-Hop (he claims to now be retired, but hopefully not). Z-Ro has never been one to suffer fools lightly, or even to be much enamoured of people in general, and here he's expressing his frustration with hangers-on who want to be spoon-fed instead of taking initiative. His sometimes sung, sometimes rapped style reminds me a little of Nate Dogg with a little 2Pac mixed in. He'll never have the mainstream popularity as either - he's far too raw for many - but he's certainly put himself and Mo City on the map over the years.

Luxury Elite : Cool

A little vaporwave flavour from the "World Class" album by Kentucky's Luxury Elite. Taking an old 80s sample, looping and editing it, and applying some effects sounds simple enough but I've been checking out quite a bit and it's easy to do badly! No such problems here, and I'll definitely keep an ear out for more from Luxury.

Children of Zeus : Slow Down

It's hopefully not too long until CoZ release their debut album, but we have this single to hold us over for a bit. It was almost a guarantee that I was going to play "All Night", the other side of the single, here (I love that "You're A Customer" break), but this one finally got the nod. The track lives up to the title, a nice relaxed piece with plenty of room for Konny and Tyler to shine. Tyler opens up with the singing voice he's known for, before he and Konny both spit raw bars after the drums come in.

Ilajide : Ten Fo

Rapidly becoming one of my favourite producers and MCs, Clear Soul Forces' Ilajide returns this month with the "#0414917" LP. The theme of the release is past issues with the law, and the sonics are absolutely thumping. This particular track sounds somewhat chaotic, with the beat elements and his vocals all tumbling after one another, but when you break it down it's more organised than it first appears!

The Mouse Outfit ft. Ellis Meade and Dubbul O : Trigger The Wave

The "Jagged Tooth Crook" LP is with us and it's another quality outing for the Outfit. Metrodome, a talented producer and DJ from Manchester worked heavily with them on this album, and he takes the reins here alongside core member and keyboardist Chini for a clean, spacey number. On the mic, we have two longtime members of the Mouse Outfit fam who are also busy artists in their own right, Ellis Meade and Dubbul O, demonstrating yet another beat style they can handle with aplomb.

Michael Trapson : Neverland Dungeon

Maybe not everyone's cup of tea but I find this guy immensely entertaining! I was giving this plenty of play even before the "This Is Lit" album was released, so no reason to stop now :) One piece of trivia for this track - the "brrrr-rat-tat-tat" in the hook isn't just a reference to gunfire, but in fact to a very specific ad-lib in Michael Jackson's "Remember The Time"! There are a ton of MJ references and dead-on vocal stylings in this tune, but even if you don't know enough to pick up on them I still think it's heavy.

The Alchemist : G-Type

From the "Rapper's Best Friend" instrumental compilation, this was also the beat for "G-Type" by Scarface and The Product.

DJ Premier ft. A$AP Ferg : Our Streets

Premo keeps on turning out those tracks in his signature style, and on this meeting of the generations, A$AP Ferg is the beneficiary of his drum machine generosity. This is a top single that marks the relaunch of the Payday Records label; they're certainly starting off strong.

Bumpy Knuckles : Flow Temperament

The king of the third verse (and a strong contender on any others) is back with a new project, "Pop Duke, Volume 1", entirely produced by Nottz. Great to hear Bumpy back with new material, and if this is anything to go by, we need to hope for more volumes in this series! Gutter beat and hard rhymes, one for the real heads.

Pusha T : Infrared

I decided to play this track from the "Daytona" (named after the watch, not the racetrack!) album on the day it came out, before the whole beef with Drake fully ignited! The mostly snareless beat from Kanye (who at least managed to get this right) provides ample space for Pusha to throw shade on Drake and his ghostwriters, Trump and the election conspiracy, and plenty more. That line about "I don't tap dance for the crackers and sing 'Mammy'" has a truckload of context now...

TRIBECA-GRAND : Take A Knee

With the NFL's new national anthem rules being introduced recently to polarising effect, this seemed like a good time to pull out this single. Tribeca and Grand Agent come out strongly in favour of the right to protest and in opposition to police violence over a Tribeca-produced beat that once again sounds like he beat the MPC into submission :) This single came out a while back, but now the "Sport Of The Gods" LP, including this song, is available too.

[The Alchemist] Mr. Voodoo : Lyrical Tactics Pt.II (Instrumental)

Total coincidence to go with another Alchemist beat, but he's just got so many good ones! This is from relatively early in his career, with Natural Elements' Mr. Voodoo (aka Agu) clearly one with an ear for talent.

Public Enemy : Cold Lampin' With Flavor

Arguably the breakout Flavor Flav solo joint (eclipsing "Too Much Posse" from "Yo! Bum Rush The Show"), this is one of my favourites from the monumental "It Takes A Nation Of Millions To Hold Us Back". Starting off with a sample of Mr.Magic (RIP) dissing PE on his radio show, this is just a hectic track with Flav going free-association from start to finish. 

Ultramagnetic MCs : Feelin' It (Remix)

Classic 80s flavour, heavy Bronx as The P Brothers would say! From the must-hear "Critical Beatdown" album, Kool Keith and Ced Gee are on the mic with styles that, while bearing traces of the old school, clearly shows signs of the MCs yet to come. The beats on the LP were done by Ced Gee, Moe Love, and the late great Paul C, and this is a signature example.

Brand Nubian : Dedication

A deep album cut from Brand Nubian's debut "One For All", with Grand Puba going solo on the mic and showing some love to those who paved the way.

Parliament : The Big Bang Theory

This huge funk track is long enough that I picked it to be the fourth song in this mix and then realised I may as well keep it running as the instrumental bed for the last voiceover! This is one of the best-known tracks by George Clinton and the crew, and as well as on many compilations, you can get this on the "Gloryhallastoopid" album.

Gap Band : Disrespect

The last song of the episode is one of my favourite Gap Band tracks but maybe not one of their best known. The synth bass, the double handclaps, the bell ringing, and the fire hook come together to make this diss track to Prince (!) a funk monster. Do yourself a favour and get yourself a copy of "Gap Band VI" if you see one at a reasonable price! You do get three different versions of "The Sun Don't Shine Everyday", but there are enough other things included for it to be worth having in your collection.

Please remember to support the artists you like! The purpose of putting the podcast out and providing the full tracklist is to try and give some light, so do use the songs on each episode as a starting point to search out more material. If you have Spotify in your country it's a great way to explore, but otherwise there's always Youtube and the like. Seeing your favourite artists live is the best way to put money in their pockets, and buy the vinyl/CDs/downloads of the stuff you like the most!

  Check out this episode!

[felinevomitus]

Interview: Joe Banks + Disinformation

Joe Banks is a sound artist, author and researcher, originally specialising in radio phenomena and electromagnetic noise. For over twenty years Joe has been performing, releasing albums and exhibiting under the guise of Disinformation. This Disinformation brand name allows for a critique of corporate identities and modern communication, and uses a sonic palette sourced from errant radio waves, natural earth signals, and interference from the sun and from the National Grid, etc. In 2012, Joe published “Rorschach Audio – Art and Illusion for Sound” on Strange Attractor press, a book that explored the subject of EVP (ghost voice) research in contemporary sound art practice. Joe’s work currently focusses on language and evolutionary neuroscience. Joe lives in London, 40 metres from the spot where physicist Leo Szilard conceived the theory of the thermonuclear chain reaction.

For more information, please visit https://rorschachaudio.com/about/ All images courtesy of the artist. 

………………

Ilia Rogatchevski: Disinformation began in the mid-1990s. What was the conceptual reasoning behind branding your creative output, rather than just making works under your given name? Has the conceptual framework behind the Disinformation handle changed or shifted in the last twenty years?

Joe Banks: To clarify when it was that all this activity started, the first Disinformation solo releases were published by the record company Ash International – an imprint of Touch Records – in 1996. The first collaborative recording, where I contributed Very Low Frequency (VLF) radio noise, to a track by Andrew Lagowski’s SETI project, appeared on a compilation CD called “Mesmer Variations” in 1995, and that contribution is credited to Disinformation in the printed CD sleeve-notes.

The name Disinformation works well for performing concerts and publishing LP and CD tracks, but was intended as much as a brand name. At the time I was interested in exploring ideas around corporate communications, logo design, corporate identities and branding. The name Disinformation also suggests parallels with philosophical concepts like the Liar Paradox and so-called Strange Loop. The name is also useful in collaborating with other artists. Creating collaborative artworks and publishing under the authorship of “Joe Banks” could arguably be misleading for audiences and disrespectful to collaborating artists.

If I’m writing research, obviously I have to publish using my own name. However, I’m also careful to not just acknowledge, but to actively advertise all the inspirations and sources that I make use of, in terms of the artists who’ve inspired my artworks, and the authors of material used in research work like the “Rorschach Audio” project.

As for the name itself, with all this talk of “post truth” politics, “fake news”, and Michael Fallon’s recent statement about “weaponising misinformation”, if anything, the idea of encouraging scepticism is more prescient now than it has been at any point in the last twenty years.

IR: What attracted you to using sound as a medium? I’m particularly interested in finding out what your gateway to experimenting with radio waves (VLF, ELF, Noise from the sun and and the National Grid) was. What creative potential do you see in radio?

JB: Part of the appeal of making sonic art using VLF radio noise was that on the one hand the imagery associated with VLF is just extraordinary – electric and magnetic storms, radio science, electricity, space physics, communications science, defence electronics, etc. On the other hand the techniques required to record these phenomena are technically straightforward and cheap to realise. It was really about research, about ideas, and a creative thought-process, rather than being about technology as such.

IR: In the past you’ve described your work as being akin to natural wildlife recording. Do you find that recording storms or interference places you in a similar realm of debate as soundscape studies and acoustic ecology? Do you see interference, i.e. your source material, to be a pollutant on our (sonic) landscape?

JB: The idea of presenting recordings of electromagnetic interference as a form of wildlife recording is important, but only really applies to a few Disinformation tracks – unprocessed, un-remixed field recordings like “Theophany” (meaning “The Voice of God”), “Stargate” [both from the “Stargate” LP, 1996] and “Ghost Shells” [12”, 1996] for instance, and, later on the “London Underground” and “Bexleyheath to Dartford” tracks [from “Sense Data & Perception”, 2005], but the idea’s still relevant.

Compared to the acoustic ecology movement, part of the artistic strategy was to poke fun at some of these over-romanticised conventions about what’s considered “natural”. The idea that any electrical activity, and, even more so, any human activity, is or can be part of nature goes against the more sentimental notions that some people project onto what they see as being nature.

In contrast, it’s about stressing how electricity is an aspect of the natural world, as opposed to being exclusively and purely a product of technology, and about stressing how human activity is part of nature – stressing these facts as a positive, as an expression of idealism, to question traditional ideas about how we’re seen as distinct from other species and from the rest of the natural world.

IR: Reading through some of the materials you sent me, I’ve noticed that you place great emphasis on copyrighting your work, images, sounds and ideas. While this is not uncommon, I’m interested to find out what your relationship is to appropriation, synchronicity and originality in art? In the example of Tacita Dean’s ‘Sound Mirrors’, is it possible that there was overlap in interests, rather than outright theft of intellectual property? Have there been other examples where your work has been subjected to misuse or appropriation without your consent?

JB: It seems pretty obvious that from time to time artists do independently re-discover aspects of each others’ ideas, in good faith, so-to-speak. It seems equally obvious that problems with genuine rip-offs have as much to do with issues of professional and personal courtesy and common sense as they have to do with actual copyright law, but, to be honest, I don’t think there is any more emphasis on copyright in my work than you’d find in any mainstream cultural product.

It’s more a question of not being naive about the fact that today’s avant-garde cultural experiments become tomorrow’s mainstream and trying to protect yourself from exploitation in that context. Copyright is far too complex a subject to do justice to here, but I notice that in your own material you talk about being influenced by the Situationist writer Guy Debord, who is perceived as a famous, almost legendary, opponent of copyright.

What is less well-known is that Guy Debord, his partner Alice Becker-Ho and Debord’s friend, Gianfranco Sanguinetti, all asserted and defended their own copyrights when they felt their ideas were being misused (and this is well documented on a pro-Situ website called “Not Bored“).

As a case in point, from 1999 to 2006 my research project “Rorschach Audio” generated between £0 and £150 per year, mostly in lecture fees. Then, after successfully fending-off a number of fairly blatant copyists, from 2007 to 2012 the project attracted £234,000 in AHRC funding. Suffice to say that I only got to see a small portion of that funding in terms of personal salary, but this does show how much ideas can go on to become worth, even, in some cases, after years of being marginalised and ignored.

IR: I’ve been reading “Rorschach Audio” with great interest and while I consider the subject of EVP to be a bit of a red herring, I wonder if you’ve come to a consensus regarding the reason why artists are attracted to and get sucked into working with EVP? Is there anything beyond the grief/loss factor or the lo-fi aesthetic?

JB: The Electronic Voice Phenomena – ghost voice – belief system is just so blatantly false that when I first got involved with sonic art my attitude to EVP was outright hostile. I didn’t become interested in EVP until it became apparent that the psychological processes which enable people to mishear poor-quality voice recordings as ghosts, are, in themselves, more interesting than the recordings themselves. But it never ceases to amaze me how many people in electronic music, alternative and mainstream art, even academia, seem sympathetic to the idea that EVP recordings are actual ghosts.

One reason, perhaps, that a few people get attracted to EVP, is, frankly but honestly, because they flunked science at school, so they don’t seem to understand why it is that using a bit of made-up technical jargon and messing around with electronic recording technology isn’t enough to make EVP experiments “scientific”.

From time to time, and particularly among some artists, you also come up against a kind of postmodernism-by-numbers, which is so anti-rational that some people don’t seem to understand what science is, why science is important, or how science works; who have little concept of the distinction between science and technology, and no concept of science being a methodology first and foremost.

Obviously bereavement can be a genuine motive, but in some cases artists choose to work with EVP because it seems to challenge conventional thinking, albeit on a very superficial level. And because EVP recordings are just really easy to make.

IR: How has your research developed since the publication of “Rorschach Audio” in 2012? I get a sense that you’re moving into a more language-focused direction. Is the technology that’s responsible for most electronic music now playing a smaller part in your practice?

JB: I should stress that I’m actively continuing to exhibit and to develop all the existing work; also, since 2012, a great deal of new material has been published on the “Rorschach Audio” website. “Rorschach Audio” features have been published in places as diverse as the lifestyle magazine of the Soho House hotel chain and “The Psychologist” – the magazine of the British Psychological Society.

Having said that, you’re absolutely spot-on – whereas in the early days “Rorschach Audio” focussed on illusions of sound, as the project progressed, the focus shifted towards illusions of language, then to language more generally. Technology itself has never really been the prime focus – as the “Rorschach Audio” book says, “the earliest form of sound recording technology was not a machine but was written language”.

Even when I was producing sound art almost exclusively with VLF radios, even that work was really about radio as a sensory extension. It was about psychology of perception, and this is something that makes this work qualitatively different from most work by artists who’ve used electromagnetic noise. It’s what Geoffrey Grigson called “the electricity of the mind”… it’s about excitement… it’s about ideas.

In light of what you say, if I may I’d also encourage your readers to check out an article I wrote about evolutionary neuroscience, with the subtitle “visual reality is in itself a carefully constructed optical illusion”, for the website of the AXNS [Art X Neuroscience] Collective (see below). That is one I’m particularly proud of, not least because it’s almost exclusively about visual perception, and, in fact, because it says almost nothing about sound at all.

AXNS Article Part 1 | AXNS Article Part 2

Ilia Rogatchevski Originally conducted for Resonance 104.4fm in November 2016 Published by Ear Room, 4 March 2017

[ricardosousalemos]

Nine Inch Nails: The Fragile (2017 Definitive Edition) / The Fragile: Deviations 1

When Trent Reznor debuted The Fragile, the followup to his star-making The Downward Spiral some five years after that record’s release, comparisons to Pink Floyd’s go-to double album The Wall abounded. For one thing, Reznor tapped that record’s producer, Bob Ezrin, to help sequence from the chaotic collection of tracks he’d assembled. For another, both records were released at the turn of their respective decades, and could be seen as summary statements for much of the music of the ten years that preceded them. 

But the most direct point of comparison is the sheer scale of both recordings. No, not their length, but their height, if you will. Years of overfamiliarity might have dulled our appreciation for just how goddamn towering they both sound. The Wall’s two versions of its anthemic introductory track “In the Flesh” and David Gilmour’s soaring solo on “Comfortably Numb” all but demand you look upward to see where the notes are coming from. Reznor and his collaborators—most notably producer Alan Moulder and guest guitarist Adrian Belew—similarly made The Fragile’s songs sound like vertical constructions, piling element on element, often with dizzying rapidity. And in its newly remastered and rereleased incarnation, The Fragile (2017 Definitive Edition), the record scrapes the sky like never before.

“The Fragile” and “Just Like You Imagined,” highlights of the album’s first disc (thinking it of a CD is a hard habit to break after nearly twenty years), are two of The Fragile’s most effective moments in this regard. Shambling into existence with a slow, steady drum beat that sounds like rattling chains, the title track works its way through three iterations of its chorus, the sole lyric of which is the disarmingly direct promise “I won’t let you fall apart”: first softly, near the bottom of Reznor’s vocal register; then at an ear-splitting, double-tracked shout, accompanied by cinematic synths; and finally with multi-tracked, major-key harmonies that turn the phrase into something close to a prayer. “Just Like You Imagined,” arguably Reznor’s finest moment as a composer, picks up where “The Fragile” leaves off, using that same celestial-chorus harmony construction and prominent cameos from Bowie sidemen Mike Garson on piano and Belew on guitar to create a wordless epic, spiraling upward in volume and intensity.

Which is not to say that The Fragile is all lacerating art-rock bombast. On the Dr. Dre-assisted “Even Deeper” and the late-album high point “The Big Comedown,” Reznor crafts a methodical industrial robo-funk that evokes deep-sea sonar pings and a malfunctioning robot, respectively. “Into the Void,” a direct Black Sabbath reference, juxtaposes the very NIN sentiment “Tried to save myself but my self keeps slipping away” with very un-NIN “ooh-wah-ah-ah” backing vocals. Its follow-up, “Where Is Everybody?,” is a sludgy pelvic thrust with a title cribbed from “The Twilight Zone” and a delightfully dark doggerel chorus: “Pleading and needing and bleeding and breeding and feeding, exceeding…Trying and lying, defying, denying, crying and dying.” Both are reminiscent of first-disc standout “The Wretched,” a relentless throb with a chorus that bellows “Now you know this is what it feels like” (itself an answer to “How does it feel?,” the refrain of Reznor’s collaboration with industrial supergroup Pigface “Suck”) and the almost comically spiteful line “The clouds will part and the sky cracks open and God Himself will reach his fucking arm through just to push you down, just to hold you down.” Misery loves comedy!

But it loves empathy too, and this is where The Fragile stands out from NIN’s catalog. On tracks like “The Fragile” (that “I won’t let you fall apart” chorus, the climactic assertion “It’s something I have to do—I was there too/Before everything else, I was like you”), “I’m Looking Forward to Joining You, Finally,” and “We’re in This Together” (the proof is in the song titles), Reznor dismantles his reputation for solipsistic self-loathing and outwardly aimed anger. There’s plenty of both, sure; album lowlight “Starfuckers, Inc.,” for example, is familiar to students of the alt-rock gossip circuit of the period as Trent’s kiss-off to his estranged former protégé Marilyn Manson, while their subsequent rapprochement led to a video where they teamed up against a Courtney Love lookalike. But in the main, The Fragile depicts an artist desperate to preserve the few connections he still has in the face of ever-growing substance abuse (this was the final album he’d record before getting clean and sober) and crippling grief (the record contains a dedication to his grandmother, a beloved figure who’d recently died). Whether positive or negative, the roiling, confessional tumult of the lyrics is reflected in the monumental sound, and vice versa.

The cumulative approach is at its clearest in “10 Miles High.” Cut from the CD version of the album to trim minutes off its already elephantine running time, the song had previously been relegated to B-side status, appearing only on the relatively obscure original vinyl edition, where both space and pacing permitted it to remain. Heard it in its proper context at last, “10 Miles High” comes across as the emotional and sonic key to the whole album: titanic in scale, unpredictably varied in its dynamic range, and absolutely annihilating in its despair and rage.

Beginning with a tinkling synth shimmer and distant-sounding vocals that murmur “I’m getting closer/I’m getting closer/All the time” (a callback to the band’s biggest hit, of course), the song gains ominous strength with loping, pounding drums and an assertive bassline. A repetitive, sour-sounding guitar joins in just before initial chorus bursts through the murk: Reznor shouts “I tried to get so high/I made it ten miles high,” each “high” echoing like a sonic exclamation point through the crunch of the guitar and drums that sound like they’ve been covered in cast iron.

Then the song peels back to a low hum, with a sardonically jaunty guitar strum and Reznor’s incomprehensible whispering dimly audible in the background. When the chorus and its repeated proclamations of miles-high self-medication come back, everything sounds muffled and choked rather than crisp and piercing. “I swore to God I would never turn into you,” Reznor’s muted voice screams, his disappointment in his failure dripping from every word like venom. The song ends as quietly as it began, with Reznor chanting the words “tear it all down, tear it all down” over and over until everything cuts off. As a lyrical and musical chronicle of complete and total personal failure, it’s peerless��in the Nine Inch Nails catalog; only Broken’s scabrous “Gave Up” and The Downward Spiral’s title track (a song whose sonic toolbox “10 Miles High” raids extensively, but which somehow sounds optimistic in comparison despite its suicidal subject matter) come close.

All of this makes The Fragile: Deviations 1 a truly perplexing proposition. Reznor’s on record as saying that the original album emerged from perhaps the darkest period of his adult life, but that the recording process was a life-affirming period in retrospect. He’s teased a revamped re-release for the better part of the past decade, up to and including a more straightforward Apple Music-exclusive instrumental version a few years back on which several new tracks were debuted. Deviations 1 (Reznor’s obsessive ambition makes that numeral worth noting) is the fulfillment of this promise. Less a remix than a recreation, it’s meticulously constructed by Reznor and his longtime collaborator Atticus Ross from the existing recordings, stripping away the vocals and introducing alternate takes and brand-new songs culled from dozens of unused tracks. The result is a complement to the original, but not necessarily a compliment; its deviations are worth exploring for the curious and the completists, but they’re ultimately less than the sum of the additional parts.

Most of Deviations’ deviations, and certainly the best of them, are structural. By adding the new songs, a dozen in total, Reznor is able to seed melodic and rhythmic ideas for more thoroughgoing use later in the album. This, granted, is nothing new for Nine Inch Nails: The plinked-out keyboard hook at the end of “Closer” returns as the central melody of The Downward Spiral’s title track; “The Frail” is an acoustic work-through of the chorus of “The Fragile”; and “La Mer” introduces the playful melody later used to punishing effect in “Into the Void.” Reznor returns to this well with at least a couple of the new additions: “Missing Pieces,” inserted prior to “We’re in This Together,” serves as a prologue that introduces several of its key sounds, while “Last Heard From” revives them just prior to the album’s final stretch.

But Deviations’ experiment with musical foreshadowing goes a bit deeper. On the original, the breakbeat-and-guitar bedrock of “Starfuckers, Inc.” was a sonic anomaly, making the already dubious song even tougher to take in context. Here, new tracks “One Way to Get There,” “Taken,” and “+Appendage,” plus the skittering direct lead-in “Feeders,” insert that Atari Teenage Riot/Earthling-era Bowie sound at multiple points throughout the record, which goes a long way to making “Starfuckers” easier to stomach. Yes, it’s still a less-good “The Perfect Drug” with a goon-squad chorus, but at least it can’t sneak up on you anymore. (The inclusion of the single version’s pisstake coda—a sample of Paul Stanley shouting “GOODNIGHT!” at a crowd that begins chanting “WE WANT KISS! WE WANT KISS!” in response—indicates Reznor’s aware of the song’s goofball nature.)

More interesting still is the intermission that Reznor inserts between the original break between discs one and two.  In its original incarnation, the first half ends with the synth-Floyd soundscape “The Great Below,” and the second half begins with “The Way Out is Through,” a tear-down-the-sky (literally: the lyrics in the vocal version prominently feature the phrase “the heavens fall”) behemoth of distortion and vocal reverb. Deviations tosses in a trio of tracks as a palate cleanser between these two showstoppers: an open-ended guitar-and-drum loop called “Not What It Seems Like,” a wobbly bass-and-percussion number named “White Mask,” and “The New Flesh,” moved up in the track listing from its place on the original vinyl, its crescendoes serving as a sort of precursor to the high-volume “The Way Out Is Through.” Given the concrete purpose they serve, perhaps it’s unsurprising that they’re the best of the the new tracks. They are nevertheless bested by “Was It Worth It?,” a newbie crammed in amongst the party jams “Into the Void” and “Where Is Everybody?” Between a handful of squalling guitar lines and a keyboard melody that sounds like a rotating prism, it has more hooks than the opening scene of Hellraiser.

Yet even at a dozen strong, the new tracks don’t fully tell Deviations’ tale. That task falls to the now all-instrumental versions of the original songs, few of which hold up when compared to the originals. In some cases this comes down to dubious editing choices: “Pilgrimage (Alternate Version)” strips away its precursor’s “Tusk”-style marching-band section. Closing track “Ripe With Decay (Instrumental)” adds a backbeat, stripping much of the power of the entropic original. Most bafflingly, “10 Miles High (Instrumental)” builds up the regular version’s secondary guitar riff—played so quietly in the original that its presence seems almost sarcastic, like a mockery of the whole idea of riffs—into a dull cock-rock stomp and strut.

The album’s biggest problem, though, is a lack of editing, not a surfeit. Most of these songs have a pretty reliable melodic template; take out the words, and you’re left with overlong and unvaried segments. Groove-based songs like “Even Deeper,” “Into the Void,” “Where Is Everybody?”, and “The Big Comedown” weather this excess relatively well, since their rhythm-oriented structure has a funk-like momentum that carries them through the surplus sections. More straightforward rockers like “No, You Don’t” or “Please,” however—never the album’s strongest moments—drag noticeably without Reznor’s voice. If you want a metaphor for what’s lost in this new version, the revamped cover—a black, white, and gray David Carson photograph of a waterfall, now denuded of the original’s vibrant red overlay—pretty much says it all.

Reznor and Ross have no shortage of experience with instrumental recordings; indeed, turning The Fragile into an instrumental album merely brings it line with the bulk of the duo’s recorded output over eight years since NIN put out its sprawling collection of soundscape sketches Ghosts I-IV. At the time of the album’s original release, Reznor already had the unjustly forgotten score for the first-person shooter game Quake under his belt, and The Fragile 1.0 has no shortage of instrumentals. This makes the lack of a more stringent editorial hand all the more perplexing. Far too many of Deviations’ freshly vocal-free songs sound like karaoke versions rather than instrumentals that can stand on their own. The result is a listening experience that outstays its welcome on a song-by-song basis, let alone over the course of its massive 150-minute running time.

Fortunately, the originals are still out there. The Fragile arrived a stylistic turning point, emerging at the point where the “alternative” sobriquet fell out of fashion and “indie” achieved dominance. Today, though, reservations about the lyrics’ outré confessionality and the music’s jam-packed, everything-plus-the-kitchen-sink gigantism seem positively quaint. (Don’t care for titanically hyper-produced albums stuffed with uncomfortably intimate and self-mythologizing lyrics about your emotional world falling apart? Tell it to Lemonade.) The Fragile may lack the tightness of Nine Inch Nails’ other highlights: the concise fury of Broken, the inexorable depressive logic of The Downward Spiral, the late-career professionalism of Hesitation Marks. But it takes the emotional distress that gives it its title and transmutes it into something colossal, defiant, and resilient. Listen to it at your strongest or your weakest (and I’ve certainly done both) and it will offer you a sonic signature commensurate with the power of what you feel inside.