devils speak of the ways in which she’ll manifest

As a teenager, for a time I found no song more viscerally powerful than this one; its sort of hungry admission of the absence of faith resonated in me, as did the tortured grasping for something clean to take its place, and by taking it, become unclean. That feeling of desolation and the thirst for the destruction of the vestiges of a prescribed morality flourish in adolescence, of course, as the wish to be safe, to be protected and cherished, more rooted in childhood, hides self-consciously (but only for a while, while we test the boundaries of our appetites). Now I can open up this time piece and examine the works, understand more clearly its manipulations and fascination. But what it comes down to is this: this song, at that time, was the very epitome of fucking.

Nine Inch Nails: Closer (Uncensored) (1994) from Nine Inch Nails on Vimeo.


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