by John Johnson

(file photo source https://metalplanetmusic.com)

In lieu of photos, show management did not allow for media, my review may be a tad longer than usual. It is an attempt to paint a picture of an event that sadly my friend and exceedingly talented photographer Chaz Dykes was unable to capture with his lens. I hope you enjoy.

In 1989 I was in Atlanta visiting a friend, and we went to the hottest club of the moment, CLUB RIO. Yes RIO, the same one that a year earlier, Brat Packer Rob Lowe was hanging out before the infamous video was released of him pleasuring himself with a couple of underage “women”. Anyway, I digress. The club was super cool, especially for that era, with its different rooms and experiences throughout. I was on one of the many dance floors and a song came on that literally stopped me in my tracks. I found may way to the DJ booth because I simply had to know the identity of the artist that was creating such unique and infectious tension, with an immense dance beat on top. The DJ couldn’t hear my exact words, but he got the gist of my query and dropped down a piece of paper he had scribbled on. The ripped piece of paper read, “Nine Inch Nails is the artist and the song is ‘Down In It’ ”. I gratefully nodded, or gave him a thumbs up, or finger guns, or whatever to let him know that I appreciated him for his diligence, and from that moment, I was hooked on Nails.

Less than a year later, Nine Inch Nails came through town and performed a show at the long gone Ybor City club, The Masquerade. I of course purchased my ticket, or tickets, I don’t remember but I know I went to the show alone because the girl I was dating at the time got sick, or bailed on me, or whatever, again, I digress. But nothing was going to keep me from attending what would be my first Nine Inch Nails show. NIN (as they are universally recognized) aren’t a band for everyone, and their music can often be unsettling and make one feel “icky”. But I believe that some of those “feelings” are exactly what Trent Reznor intended and set out to achieve. Reznor is the brainchild behind NIN and “they” were fresh off the release of their debut, Pretty Hate Machine. The 90’s version of NIN’s live performances blurred the line between concert and demolition derby, with Reznor thrashing across the stage, throwing himself into keyboards, and destroying instruments as part of the spectacle. And The Masquerade show was no exception. So enthralled was I, that I waited around outside after to meet Reznor. With sparse jet black dreads mixed with matted not-dreads, atop his extremely pasty face and sinewy frame. And although he just finished a performance that can be equated to a wet cat being removed from a spin cycle, he couldn’t have been more soft spoken, kind and seemingly “put together” intellectually. Yes, I admit that I had judged his pale, electrical tape swathed, sweaty blood stained book cover, but was pleasantly surprised to be mistaken in my pre-judgement.

I was never lucky enough to speak to Reznor in person again, but I kept up with him and NIN releases (some were better than others), with a sense of joy one feels by being “a fan before they got big” kind of thing. In the span of time since their debut, Reznor has released numerous studio recordings, mixes, live collections and several Soundtracks and movie scores. With those he has won multiple awards in various categories, even winning two Oscars for “Best Original Score” for The Social Network and Pixar’s Soul. In those four decades, I believe I have seen NIN about 8 or 9 more times, before attending their most recent stop here in Tampa, Tuesday September 10th. The Benchmark International Arena, it’ll always be the Ice Palace to me, was the destination that Reznor and company chose to unleash their trademark industrial barrage, titled the “Peel It Back Tour”. Judging by the sea of black tee shirts that poured into said arena, mostly emblazoned with NIN, we were all seemingly prepared for said onslaught. Now I can’t speak for all my fellow concert goers, but I’d be willing to bet that we weren’t quite prepared for the spectacle that transformed the cavernous, newly monikered venue, into a dark cathedral of industrial rock.

First though, after roughly an hour of ambient sprinkled white noise, with the entire arena bathed in red lights, a slender figure appeared on a small stage at the rear of the Benchmark. Boyz Noize (his name evokes more N’sync meets 80’s hair metal) began a roughly 45 minute set that got the general admission pit gyrating and some of the “sitters” up and moving as well. My wife and I were a couple of those that are incapable of sitting when throbbing rhythms are present, even if by someone we would refer to as a knob turner. A more endearing label than one might imagine by the way. He mixed “Down In It” into his set, which was nice since NIN hasn’t been adding that gem to their sets. After Boyz Noize faded out, there was no intermission or pause in the energy, Reznor simply eased his way into the ether and appeared at a piano perched on top of the B-Stage in the center of the arena. We never sat down again.

He opened the festivities with a stripped down, highly emotional version of “Right Where It Belongs” (with a “Somewhat Damaged” outro) that showcased his dexterity on the ivories as well as slowly warming up to his normally angry vocal style. After Reznor’s brief but beautiful solo performance he was joined by award winning pal and musical partner Atticus Ross on keys for a partially acoustic “Ruiner”. Multi-instrumentalist Alessandro Cortini and guitarist Robert Finck also ascended the steps where they finished their first B-Stage set with “Piggy (Nothing Can Stop Me Now). As the lights went out on the intimate stage B, the strobes and lasers appeared on the main stage, and the congregation was pummeled by the thunderous drumming of Josh Freese, as his ginormous visage was projected on the sheer curtains that hung over and around the stage. Freeses bombastic intro into “Wish” led to “March of the Pigs”, “Reptile” and “Find My Way” and they hit with ferocity as flashing strobes and jarring visuals pulled the audience into a relentless descent. However, it was the brilliant video magic on “Copy of A” that captivated. I’ll attempt to explain, but I urge you to locate a video online to truly appreciate the effect. Reznor at center stage, would make subtle movements and hand gestures as he sung, while live videos of him shot at divergent angles were projected on the massive curtains, but at varying intervals, creating the illusion of a dozen Trents being his own backup singer/dancers, all choreographed in time to the song. Reznor’s vocals were raw yet controlled, screaming with urgency one moment and whispering with haunting restraint the next.

After “Gave Up” they returned to the B-Stage one last time, with Boyz Noize in tow, to play “Vessel” and radio un-friendly “Closer” with it’s chorus of “I want to fuck you like an animal” being voraciously sung in unison by the sold out crowd. The visuals were minimalist but powerful—shadows cast across the stage, strobes slicing through the smoke, and stark projections that heightened the sense of unease. For only a moment though, as “Alive as You Need Me to Be”, from the soon to be released TRON: Ares soundtrack, was accompanied by lasers and lights that ostensibly placed us in a virtual reality. The somewhat vanilla “Came Back Haunted” was the last song performed on the centered stage and the five members blended seamlessly back to the main stage for “Mr. Self Destruct”, “Less Than” and “Perfect Drug” with a mind-blowing kit bashing solo by Mr. Freese. Before the decidedly disturbing “Burn” from the Natural Born Killers soundtrack, with it’s off kilter tempo and ominous lyrics (most of his lyrics are), Reznor proudly introduced his equally talented and dedicated bunch of musical minions. Lesser deep cut ditty “Hand That Feeds” (in fact it’s his highest charting single) had the dour devotees shrieking along to the fuzzy bass injected anthem. Without pausing, the band tore into “Head Like a Hole,” (off the debut album I fell in love with eons earlier), was a final burst of rage and release that had the entire crowd on its feet, fists in the air, extolling promises to “God Money”. If we weren’t ALL already at attention and upright, we assuredly would be bowing down to the one we served. And for the last 2 hours, it was Trent Reznor and company, whether we were getting what we deserved or not. As the night built toward its conclusion, the emotional weight became undeniable. “Hurt” silenced the arena, thousands of fans singing softly with Reznor in a moment that felt as fragile as it was cathartic. The contrast between those last two songs perfectly encapsulated the power of Nine Inch Nails live: the ability to shift seamlessly from violence to vulnerability, from cacophony to near silence.

By the end of the night, Tampa had been left both shaken and exhilarated. This wasn’t just another tour stop—it was a visceral reminder of why Nine Inch Nails remain one of the most vital live acts in rock. Reznor and his band didn’t simply perform songs; they crafted an atmosphere, an experience, a confrontation with sound and light. For longtime fans, like myself from 1989’s corner of 7th Avenue and 19th, it was a reaffirmation of devotion. For any possible newcomers, it was a baptism into the beautiful chaos that is Nine Inch Nails.

Now, Go Out and See, Hear and Feel Live Music