The classic Trent Reznor thought he would have ruined: “I let him down”
There’s always a bit of trepidation when someone goes into the studio with their songs. Anyone can think that something they’ve written is fantastic in the comfort of their home, but there are only so many times that people can manage to get that magic moment in the studio without having something get in the way, whether it’s the mastering going wrong or the occasional bum note in the middle of the mix.
But despite all of the mileage that Trent Reznor had as a songwriter, he felt a lot more insecure knowing that he couldn’t contribute as much as he would like to some of his records.
Then again, it’s not like many people were asking for more than what he was giving them. The Downward Spiral saw him bearing his entire soul for the world to see, and even if some of his later works left something to be desired for some fan, you can’t listen to projects like Year Zero and Hesitation Marks and not think that they were a perfect amalgamation of what was going on inside his head at the time.
But rock music was far from the first thing Reznor wanted to do. He had passions behind the board as well as in front of the microphone, and his Ghosts series of albums was the first time where he legitimately felt like he could work well outside the boundaries of normal pop songwriting. He could do a lot of things, but nothing really prepares anyone for when David Fincher calls them.
Fincher was already known for his precise methods behind the camera, but when working on The Social Network, he knew that Reznor would be perfect. After all, Nine Inch Nails’ music worked so well in Seven, so why not get the same person to capture that feeling when making original music? It wasn’t out of the ordinary for Reznor, but he said he felt he was nowhere near capable of bringing it to life.
Despite the rowing scene being one of the most intense soundtrack moments of the 21st century, Reznor said he didn’t feel equipped to write anything, saying, “I had immense respect for David, but it was coming at a time when I was burned out from touring and I promised myself I was going to take some time off. I just said to him, ‘I don’t want to ruin your movie and I want to be fair to myself.’ And I immediately felt guilty, because I let him down and let myself down.”
Once Reznor came on board after seeing a rough cut of the film, though, it all started to click a little more. Sure, it was daunting having to score a movie that matches the intensity of Aaron Sorkin’s dialogue, but given what he had already done on his own ambient projects, it wouldn’t be any different once Atticus Ross became a bigger presence in the studio.
And for all of the challenges they might have had, The Social Network seemed to be a learning experience for everyone involved. Outside of Fincher’s legendary sense of direction, Reznor seemed to pull from the size and scope of everything when making his later projects, and even when Ross flew solo, his contributions to Love and Mercy had that same visceral sense of sound design when detailing the life of Brian Wilson.
Any other artist might have gladly carried on with their lives as a songwriter after turning down a movie like this, but that was never how Reznor worked. It was all about being able to push oneself, and even if it came out a little bit sideways, it was always worth it to have tried an experiment rather than wondering what could have been.
