NINE INCH NAILS
ROYAL ALBERT HALL, LONDON
Two days after playing Robert Smith’s Meltdown event at Royal Festival Hall, Nine Inch Nails are here at the Royal Albert Hall. Two royal London venues – not bad for a musician who started out alone as a studio janitor, survived a breakdown, and has long played excoriating music that kicks against the mainstream. When Opeth came here, they sold special programmes. Bring Me The Horizon had an orchestra. Devin Townsend performed with a giant vagina. NIN? They’ve brought their arena-sized light show, proving cinematic and dramatic against these historic walls.
March Of The Pigs feels so big and bright, it’s like being face-toface with an IMAX screen, the room clapping and the floor shaking when the final chorus hits. During Copy Of A, they pull off their trick of silhouetting the band against the backdrop, their shadows mimicking the lyrics.
Burning Bright (Field On Fire) is positively apocalyptic, Trent rocking back and forth with a megaphone in a smoking red landscape. And of course the sound is crystal clear, Reptile’s seething hisses and clicks perfectly penetrating the ears.
There are some special touches for this prestigious night; they play Shit Mirror for the first time, guitarist Robin Finck screaming the intro. There’s a rare outing of
Parasite by How To Destroy Angels, the band formed by Trent and his wife, Mariqueen Maandig. They lay to rest their Bowie cover, I
Can’t Give Everything Away, Trent’s voice cracking with emotion during this final rendition. Joy Division cover Digital airs for the second time only, and those who recognise it dance animatedly.
Trent doesn’t talk much, but what he does say is surprisingly heartfelt. “The first time I left the US was to come here,” he reveals before The Day The World Went
Away, guessing that it was 1989 after he recorded debut album
Pretty Hate Machine. “I was in a place I didn’t know anybody, the beer was warm, I made a record, the label said it sucked. We never imagined in a million years we’d be here in a place like this.”
They close with a spinetingling
Hurt – a rare quiet moment in a furious set (“all the songs on the new record are fucking fast!” he jokes). Few bands could end on a downbeat song and still leave on such a high.