I got this thing a day before official release thanks to the Kind People at Interscope, and I remember getting on alt.music.alternative shortly thereafter and raving about it madly. I have no reason to change my opinion on it.
Downward did pretty much destroy my taste for industrial in its most straightforward, painful dancefloor sense for a while, though -- not because it was bad, it was just so good that nearly everything that came out after that ripped it off one way or another, so I had to steer away just to avoid ODing (things have gotten a lot better sense, happily). Being helped by Flood and Alan Moulder, who seem to have produced or been involved on some of the records I adore the most, didn't hurt, but this was pretty much Trent all the way anyway. At this point he had moved beyond being mere trope to hypertrope, really -- the ever-popular tortured artist effect with mascara, fishnets, a cool haircut and the right MTV poses. Throw in every last kneejerk reference to oppressive social structures, bitter deities, suicidal impulses and a little twisted sex along the way, and behold!
Thankfully, this all works. So "Heresy" might have been every last industrial lyric cliché ever in one song (but let's face it, what do you expect with a chorus like "God is DEAD! And no one CARES!") but musically it was cold, brutal, marching feet, whirs and cries, burbling bass, stiff percussion hits, a final distillation of the grinding death impulse that makes so much sound so good if you listen to it right. Everything is carefully arranged, placed, performed just so. Maximum impact, think about the consequences later (a very American approach to destruction in general, of course) -- he might not have introduced anything not already done here, there and elsewhere (as in Chicago, Vancouver and continental Europe, plus dabs from England courtesy of Bowie, Depeche and Numan for effect), but he recombined everything so wonderfully. Lotsa concept album stuff around here as well -- repeated melodic lines and lyrics, everything apparently moving towards (or sinking in, if you like the metaphor) a certain end result -- but I'm not immediately punching the walls.
"Closer" won most of the airplay, and deservedly so -- the pitter-patter heartbeat start, the abbreviated fills, singalongapervostylee, and a knack for knowing what to start including and where (distorted strings, bigger drum slams, more keyboards, more guitars and my favorite move of all, a distorted synth line that is pure Depeche Mode after having been run through the wringer, keyboard and keyboardist both). But there's a lot going on elsewhere, "March of the Pigs" tackling the loud/soft/loud conundrum of nineties commercial alt with a logical conclusion (namely, use computers to do it, not a band!), "Ruiner" with horn lines revamped from any of Laibach's post-Wagnerian metaoperas, "Hurt," ending everything on a broken note but not without a final kick in the shins. And then there's "Big Man With a Gun," which may have been a gangsta-rap parody, but I'll just call it a sense of humor flickering in such a way as to annoy Charles Heston wannabes more than anyone else.
"A Warm Place" is my secret favorite, a mere three-minute instrumental with the knack of introducing a perfect, lovely not-to-be-argued-against calm in the middle of it all. It floats, and I float, serene.