Trent Reznor is probably best known for his creative and absolutely smashing musical entity Nine Inch Nails. Last summer, my best friend and I were fortunate enough to see the group perform at the Air Canada Centre; the stifling summertime heat was matched by the absolute intensity and mind-blowing performance they delivered.
Reznor's personal experiences of addiction, depression and darkness is as much sad as it is hopeful, as he overcame his personal demons while still maintaining a commitment to his musical genius. I remember, back in late 1994, when I first heard The Downward Spiral -- a little shocking looking back, as I was just in elementary school -- and being hooked on it, off and on since then.
Granted, I have a bigger appreciation for the old Trent of the Pretty Hate Machine and Broken days, but I still listen to his newer stuff, the most recent of which he allowed to be downloaded, for free, off his web site. I am sad to hear rumours that he may not be touring as Nine Inch Nails for the next while, if ever again. I guess he just reached and crossed a personal threshold that now warrants a quiet retreat and recovery. All the same, hats off to the man.
I came across this long, but fascinating article about Nine Inch Nails' initiatives outside of their music, and into the ways in which they distribute their work while simultaneously reconciling themselves to the new realities facing the record industry and keeping links with their fan base alive and well. Those realities are, of course, the rise of Internet-based file sharing and downloading of music, often illegally -- something that inevitably is nurturing a whole generation of youngsters that view music as something they are entitled to pluck and use as they see fit.
I still have vivid memories of eagerly going to a local HMV music shop to buy the newly-released album from a given band, without having heard anything from it, and then driving home, trembling with delight at what I will expect when I fire up the CD. There is a certain magic quality to this, which probably explains why I still, to this day, buy CDs -- even though they are played just once, technically, on my computer, which then feeds everything to an IPod.
Where has all the magic gone? Computers, the Internet, mp3 files, ITunes -- that all sounds too robotic, which says much for where we are going as a society...but that is also going off topic.
"Reznor hasn't been trying to save the record industry, and doesn't push himself forward as any kind of example or seer. All he has been trying to do is to release Nine Inch Nails's music to the greatest effect. Some of the financial decisions he has made along the way seem almost suicidal. But, even so, perhaps more than anyone else right now, he has been offering the record industry a remarkable lesson in survival and some clues as to how, for those who are smart and passionate and flexible, there are ways forward."
The whole story is there, for anyone that wishes to read it all. Reznor and, by extension, Nine Inch Nails achieved what is, for many, almost unachievable; they did not let it get to their heads, nor did they forget their humble and servant-status origins before moving deep into the mainstream (and the perks that have come with it, both artistically and financially). I reckon, speaking as a fan and admirer of Reznor and his music, that this is the proverbial icing on the cake: as practical as it is a recognition of, and homage to, his fan base, as much as it is self-preservation in the face of changing realities.
As this article wraps up, "Now theirs is a more controlled, coiled anger; the sincerity without the damage. Reznor has prospered by realising that there are some changes it is dumb not to make." Music-making meeting the politics of the recording industry, and an embracing of the new realities that emanate from it: that is the perfect drug, if there ever was one.
Tuesday, May 12, 2009
Tuesday, May 5, 2009
Citizenship and assimilation
The former Soviet republic of Moldova, with a population of just over 4 million, remains one of the smallest post-Soviet republics. It is also the poorest country in Europe, with a dilapidated infrastructure, outmoded agricultural techniques, and about one-fourth of its working population that does not technically work in Moldova.
In 2001, President Vladimir Voronin, of the Communist Party, became President; his government recently was re-elected, but not without triggering violent spasms of unrest in the capital of Chisinau that forced a recount reiterating the Communists' victory.
It is also the site of a peculiar form of separatism, east of the river Dniester, which is populated by a sizable number of ethnic Ukrainians and Russians, along with Moldovans, but which is controlled by former Soviet political elites that played the nationalism card just before Moldova became independent in August 1991.
Really, though, the conundrum over the 'Trans-Dniester Moldovan Republic' is a thinly-disguised squabble between the Moldovan authorities and the ex-Soviet elite in Tiraspol, who preside over an enclave of Soviet-style decorum and bravado, complete with rampant organized crime, illicit weapons dealing, human trafficking, and minimal central authority. The "president" of Trans-Dniester, Igor Smirnov, runs the place as his personal fief, with his two sons running a good deal of the breakaway state's business.
Moldovans, historically, have ethnic, cultural and linguistic ties with neighbouring Romania; between 1918-1940, Romania and Moldova were one country, and it was following the Molotov-Ribbentrop Pact in 1940, followed by the insanity of the Second World War, that Moldova became a part of the USSR. Few politicians in post-1989 Romania have been keen on nurturing irredentism in Moldova, given the country's nasty poverty and the instability it harbours with Trans-Dniester.
The Romanian government, however -- along with Russia -- has long been accused of meddling in Chisinau's affairs. Curious, then, that the Romanian government has been making it easier, as of late, for Moldovans to acquire a Romanian passport, much to the chagrin of the Moldovan authorities. Romania's President, Trajan Basescu, says he wishes to avoid a new "iron curtain" from falling between the two countries, but one cannot help but wonder if this is just an alternative to the mud-slinging, territory-altering prospect of somehow reunifying the two countries together. The last time this possibility emerged was right in 1990-1991, but Romania was nowhere near its current level of stability and economic prospects, let alone EU and NATO membership, at the time.
"This mass granting of the Romanian citizenship is a way to assimilate the Republic of Moldova...We see it a threat to the statehood, a threat to the integrity and sovereignty of our country." Or so says Vladimir Turcanu, a Moldovan MP. More than 100,000 Moldovans have Romanian passports already, and there are another 20,000 applications in the pipeline (though President Basescu cited a figure of 650,000 envelopes at the Romanian embassy in Chisinau).
If this all keeps up, Moldova may well become a closer rendition of post-Soviet Armenia, another poverty-mired country in which one-third of its population has left the country for a better life abroad since 1991. Eighteen years of supposed nation-building and identity-fostering will have been in vain, and a country will have virtually vanished, to be replaced by...what?
In 2001, President Vladimir Voronin, of the Communist Party, became President; his government recently was re-elected, but not without triggering violent spasms of unrest in the capital of Chisinau that forced a recount reiterating the Communists' victory.
It is also the site of a peculiar form of separatism, east of the river Dniester, which is populated by a sizable number of ethnic Ukrainians and Russians, along with Moldovans, but which is controlled by former Soviet political elites that played the nationalism card just before Moldova became independent in August 1991.
Really, though, the conundrum over the 'Trans-Dniester Moldovan Republic' is a thinly-disguised squabble between the Moldovan authorities and the ex-Soviet elite in Tiraspol, who preside over an enclave of Soviet-style decorum and bravado, complete with rampant organized crime, illicit weapons dealing, human trafficking, and minimal central authority. The "president" of Trans-Dniester, Igor Smirnov, runs the place as his personal fief, with his two sons running a good deal of the breakaway state's business.
Moldovans, historically, have ethnic, cultural and linguistic ties with neighbouring Romania; between 1918-1940, Romania and Moldova were one country, and it was following the Molotov-Ribbentrop Pact in 1940, followed by the insanity of the Second World War, that Moldova became a part of the USSR. Few politicians in post-1989 Romania have been keen on nurturing irredentism in Moldova, given the country's nasty poverty and the instability it harbours with Trans-Dniester.
The Romanian government, however -- along with Russia -- has long been accused of meddling in Chisinau's affairs. Curious, then, that the Romanian government has been making it easier, as of late, for Moldovans to acquire a Romanian passport, much to the chagrin of the Moldovan authorities. Romania's President, Trajan Basescu, says he wishes to avoid a new "iron curtain" from falling between the two countries, but one cannot help but wonder if this is just an alternative to the mud-slinging, territory-altering prospect of somehow reunifying the two countries together. The last time this possibility emerged was right in 1990-1991, but Romania was nowhere near its current level of stability and economic prospects, let alone EU and NATO membership, at the time.
"This mass granting of the Romanian citizenship is a way to assimilate the Republic of Moldova...We see it a threat to the statehood, a threat to the integrity and sovereignty of our country." Or so says Vladimir Turcanu, a Moldovan MP. More than 100,000 Moldovans have Romanian passports already, and there are another 20,000 applications in the pipeline (though President Basescu cited a figure of 650,000 envelopes at the Romanian embassy in Chisinau).
If this all keeps up, Moldova may well become a closer rendition of post-Soviet Armenia, another poverty-mired country in which one-third of its population has left the country for a better life abroad since 1991. Eighteen years of supposed nation-building and identity-fostering will have been in vain, and a country will have virtually vanished, to be replaced by...what?
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
