NINE INCH NAILS
February 17, 2006
Lincoln, NE Pershing Center

If the Pershing wasn't at max. cap. last night (6,000, if I recall their web site correctly) it was darn close.  The floor, around the electronics F/X corral and a raised ADA platform toward the back, was jammed with fans early.  As the night went on the seats gradually filled all the way up to the roof.  At times the floor was a seething ocean of pogo'ing heads while the walls writhed with waving arms, pointing fingers, clenched fists like some canyon of agitated, vertebrate sea polyps.  It was the most varied bunch of people I've seen at a nin concert (this was my third). I saw several people at least my age (55), quite a few adolescents (14? 15?) and every age and demographic in between.  There were kids in goth regalia (kohl and dog collars never go out of style), many many stocking caps, baggy jeans and hoodies, aggie caps, Mohawks, braids, frat sweatshirts, ZZ Top beards, ageing hippy facial foliage, and every kind of band tee shirt imagineable.

And we were all glad to be figments of Trent Reznor's imagination.

Once again I marveled at how one guy can beat thousands of people into exhausted submission.  He's relentless - the program consisted of pile-driving blast after blast, relieved only about three times with their slower instrumentals (La Mer) or familiar favorites (Hurt).  A dozen or so abstract LCD panels hung above and behind the stage and projected patterns and images giving an ingenious and varied enhancement to the festivities.  A fabric scrim between the stage and audience started out the show, and was lowered again later to display projected scenes and images, most shockingly the scenes of war with obviously American soldiers "just carrying out orders" - making plain that one possible interpretation of songs like The Hand That Feeds is not accidental.

The light show at times was what I imagine being in the middle of cluster-bombing must be like - blinding, staccato, assaultive - and bathed the stage and crowd in eye-searing purple, indigo, turquoise, blue-white, blood-red,  and - used sparingly - gold. One number found Trent standing atop a fifteen-foot-high structure while the band flailed throwing themselves like manic puppets all over the stage.  The scene was soaked in red, with gold glancing off the cymbals to pierce the eyes.  Those versatile metal backdrop sheets rippled with red and orange this time, flames consuming Reznor's personal Hell.

Leaving out only a couple or three of the songs off With Teeth, the setlist didn't neglect crowd favorites like Closer, Hurt (he had to feel the Nebraska love on that one, out came the lighters and cell phones, and the fans sang almost the whole song with him), Head Like a Hole, Something I Can Never Have, and Wish.  Without a watch I could only guess but it may have been two solid hours of nin-fan heaven.  He stopped at about the point where I would guess they normally ended the show and Trent told us that when his manager called him last fall as they were finishing an 18-month tour, and asked what he thought about another tour, this time through Nebraska in February, it didn't sound like such a great idea.  That got an appreciative roar: the night outside was a blistering -5 degrees waiting to frost our fritters after the concert.  But, he said, he was glad he'd said Yes because this was the best audience ever.  Whether he says that to every audience, no one cares. And then he went on to play about eight more songs.  When it was finally, truly over, and the house lights came on, no one was complaining.  We got one hell of a Nine Inch Nails show.