Prick

Thirty years ago, I was working behind the counter at a mall Blockbuster Music store. As assistant manager, I got to pore over all the promo stuff fresh from the mailbox. One morning, this included a teaser sheet from Interscope for an album called, for real, “Prick”.

It wasn’t totally clear if “Prick” was the band, the title, or what, but Trent Reznor was credited as a producer, which piqued my interest. Ol’ Trent was still riding high off the success of the previous year’s Downward Spiral, and there was a quote from him regarding Prick, something to the effect of “everything about it sounds wrong”. I was heavily into Nine Inch Nails and industrial metal in general at the time, so I was already pretty stoked.

When the album came out later, I was floored right off the bat with the first track, “Communique”. I probably listen to this one song more than any Nine Inch Nails tune.

This is from 1995!

Prick is Kevin McMahon, with additional musicians on guitar and drums. McMahon was in a band with Trent Reznor called Lucky Pierre, prior to Nine Inch Nails. Both these guys got it into their heads to forge a musical path solo, and what can I say, you can’t argue with results. (Don’t look up the words “lucky Pierre”, though.)

In the interest of not over-selling this to those who’ve never heard it, I will disclose that nothing that follows has quite the raw atonal blast of the opening track, but aside from one song I don’t care for (“I Got It Bad”), the whole album is rock-solid.

Next up is “Riverhead”, which any fool would see as the obvious radio single (it wasn’t, though):

I mean, maybe some folks might find it a bit odd, or shrill; maybe McMahon’s voice is too unusual for some. To me, this feels like one of those great undiscovered albums from the 1980’s, bands that committed full-force to an avant-garde aesthetic and sound that just didn’t catch a mass audience.

This album didn’t either, which is a shame, because how excellent was the end of that song, with that sweet funk riff?

The next song is “Tough”, cranking things right back up to an industrial frenzy of fantastic audio textures.

Last night, because it was free, I watched the 1980 Al Pacino gay-panic steamer Cruising. It’s one of the most off-putting movies I’ve ever seen, just terrible, with an ending that cops out like you wouldn’t believe and satisfies nobody. Do not ever see this awful movie, because you might mentally associate it with this song and hate yourself forever.

However, if you do see Cruising, there is a brief scene featuring a large black man wearing only a jockstrap and a cowboy hat, that is one of the Top Ten Hardest Laughs I’ve Ever Had. Also Robert Mapplethorpe became inspired to use large black men as subjects of his art, because of this scene. If that sounds like something worth checking out to you, knock yourself out.

Oh what the hell, I cued it up for you. It makes as much sense out of context as in. Behold (NSFW):

“Riverhead” was produced by British/Canadian producer Warne Livesey, known for filling the same role on albums by Midnight Oil and The The. Trent Reznor helmed “Communique”, “Tough”, and the following track, “Other People”. See if you can note the subtle differences in tone, and pay special attention to that spectacular shift to the bridge section. Oh, and this luscious rubbery bassline that forms the backbone from the start:

Am I wrong in saying that this is an overlooked gem? For those of you who were around at the time, how much of the feel of those days does this bring back? The raw, inspired emotion of 1990’s “alternative music”, the creative spark that seems all but extinguished now?

Next is “No Fair Fights”, another shimmering Reznor-produced beauty. The shifting from sweet to coarse is deft and if I’m being totally honest, this is superior to “March of the Pigs”-era NIN:

I think Reznor probably felt a lot more freedom on these songs, unencumbered by the weighty NIN image. Also, this was recorded in an actual studio on Topanga Canyon Boulevard, and not the house where Sharon Tate was butchered, like Downward Spiral was. Trent even went the extra mile and christened the house “le pig”, after a message that was scrawled in-

You know what, let’s move on, we all know what kind of poison farts Trent and many other stars of industrial metal were huffing in the early 90’s. And Natural Born Killers was a looooong time ago.

The remainder of the album is produced by Warne. Side B commences with the actual slated single from the album, “Animal”. Personally I found it to be a hard sell (although I like it), but Reznor kind of opened the door a year earlier with a filthy song of the same title on Downward Spiral, which actually gained traction on MTV and alternative radio.

It’s an anti-fur song. See if you can work out how:

Good shit though, right? I vaguely remember it having a music video, which might have made the anti-fur message more explicit, but I never watch those things. I hate music videos. A dumb, corny or pretentious music video has the power to destroy a great song, or even its artist. You know this to be true. Music videos are commercialized, obsequious horse shit.

I don’t like the next track (“I Got It Bad“) so I’m skipping it. Lookie there, I linked it. I’m a good egg.

Now this next one, there are going to be a lot of guys out there who will think of playing it for an aggrieved or angry girlfriend. Just know going in; you are stealing my idea. Before you ask: yes, it works. Behold-

I have no idea what the little stinger is at the end with the popping bubbles, but it always cracks me up. Not coincidentally, just a weird sort of palate cleanser before “Crack”, the next song.

Now, individually, this isn’t one of my favorite songs on the disc, but as the second-to-last track, it fits perfectly. The tone hearkens back to Livesey’s work with Midnight Oil, with its grungy guitar licks and grinding beat. It’s more than solid, it just doesn’t whip around with the breakneck speed of the album’s first half.

You could even argue there’s a little The The in that mix (another Livesey client); this track would be right at home on Infected or Solitude. McMahon pulls out some serious vocal chops, too. I don’t know what “kiss every crack” means. I don’t really obsess over the meaning of the lyrics on this album. I’d swear I heard a mellotron at the end of “Crack”, but there is no such credit listed in the liner notes.

The closer is the sublime “Makebelieve”. In late 1995, I was divorced from my wife of three and a half years. This song is irrevocably welded to that experience. There are times when I have to skip it.

Here, listen for yourself:

How many seconds did you get into that song before the gooseflesh kicked in hard core? As for that “NOTHING” scream towards the end; that’s gotta be Trent, right? That was the name of his vanity record label. I always imagined that scream is what you heard when you called his office. It’s a real gut-punch, regardless.

I find the outro to be completely devastating. The voice of the song accepts his fate, slipping into the void after a squandered life. He came for the house and the children. He feels like his ship has come in; but it was a joke, there’s nothing aboard.

As good as NIN’s Downward Spiral was, to me Prick shows so much more potential, with restraint and excess utilized in expert measure. There’s no overemphasis on “holes” or “pigs” or suicide, nor are there any iconic previous efforts to top. Just a suite of incredible industrial songs from a guy who pretty much came and went, leaving behind a single album to speak for him.

What kind of prick does that?!?