NINE INCH NAILS - With Teeth

Coming back after six years of silence (aside from the live album "All That Could Have Been" and the small hidden gems on "Still", the bonus disc attached to said live album) without bringing substantial novelty to his own sound formula could undoubtedly be a cause of disappointment for Trent Reznor's fans and admirers, and a strong point in the hands of his detractors. Indeed, the genius from Mercer, Pennsylvania, had accustomed us so well up to now that, at first approach, this new album seems to be a minor episode in his sparse but exceptional discography.

Of the countless paths explored on "Fragile", Reznor chooses to delve deeper into those that already yielded memorable results on that record, in songs like "We're In This Together", "The Day The World Went Away" or "The Fragile". He chooses to dive into direct, less complex structures that give prominence to voice, words, melodies and choruses as perhaps he had never dared to do before. Without giving up any of the trademarks of the Nine Inch Nails sound, Reznor finally delivers what his art had always been reaching towards: he crafts a collection of songs. That's it. Because if there's one thing about "With Teeth" that strikes hardest, it's precisely its being a record built first and foremost on melodies, those oblique yet exceptionally catchy melodies that Reznor has always been a master of. And it's a desolate, intimate record, as much as, if not more than, "The Fragile" was: Reznor seems to look around and see only emptiness, distance, loneliness: there's no more need to resort to violence ("The Downward Spiral"), except in isolated episodes like "You Know What You Are" and, to a lesser extent, "Getting Smaller"; no more need for cathartic streams of consciousness and obsessive searches for new starting points ("The Fragile").

What stirs beneath the surface of "With Teeth" is a Reznor perhaps finally at peace with himself, but by no means reconciled with the world around him. Yet there's no anger left either: what remains seems to be only a subtle, detached despondency, along with regrets and painful reflections (above all the aching "Right Where It Belongs"). This is a Reznor looking backward, gazing even at a distant past ("Only" arrives straight out of the Eighties with no attempt whatsoever at "modernization", though it's also one of the least convincing episodes on the record, along with the weak single "The Hand That Feeds", while the nostalgia trip works better on "Sunspots"), searching for a safe haven in which to simply be himself. And Reznor has always been, first and foremost, a songwriter in the most classic sense of the word: this side of him finally comes out into the open, and this time not even his usual, exceptional work on sound can help — the production alchemy concocted by Reznor and his trusted studio wizard Alan Moulder can no longer disguise the "pop" nature of NIN songs. Hence the opening "All The Love In The World", which starts quietly with voice and melody entrenched behind a wary drum 'n bass groove, gradually gathers courage and turns into a stately chorus that couldn't be more pop. And above all, hence genuine gems like the propulsive "The Collector" and, especially, "Every Day Is Exactly The Same", which with its instantly catchy chorus and an emotional crescendo only Reznor can pull off, captures the tone of the album better than any other track.

While in the middle stretch Reznor betrays worrying gaps in inspiration, the album's closing tracks reach heights worthy of his old masterpieces: "The Line Begins To Blur", with its harsh, acid verse unfolding into an epic, desolate chorus, is a textbook example; "Beside You In Time" is pure enchantment: Reznor whispers a lullaby, and the mixing desk drowns it in an ocean of feedback, deformed, repeated, wearing it down until the final explosion, even more muffled and dreamlike. And from its ashes rises the already-mentioned "Right Where It Belongs", an intense, desperate confession worthy heir to the legendary "Hurt", featuring one of the finest lyrics Reznor has ever written.

In the end, with Reznor once again retreating into his own "Home", here we are, dazed by conflicting feelings: there is, no use denying it, a hint of disappointment, partly because after so many years expectations had grown too high, and partly because, in any case, the man's inspiration and imagination are no longer at 100 percent. Reznor seems cautious, no longer willing (or able?) to risk surprising solutions: he limits himself — so to speak — to working, with undeniable honesty and passion, his own class and his inimitable trademarks. That's simply how things stand, whether fans or detractors like it or not. Amid the imperfect seams and smooth flow of this album, there's no shortage of treasures, Reznor has never sung this well, and as for the sound quality, well, it's almost superfluous to even mention it. With its strengths and flaws, "With Teeth" is nothing more than the minor work of a major artist.

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30/04/2026