NIN live at the Pax Americana
Aug. 14th, 2008 12:52 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
jack_babalonNine Inch Nails
The Gwinnett Arena
Section 118, Row U, Seat 14
The Magpie had scored an extra ticket to the Nine Inch Nails show last night. His girl wasn't particularly interested in going and he figured he'd have more fun with me. A free show on my unpublished author's salary! Well really, who's going to say 'no' to an offer like that?
Now to be honest I wasn't sure what to expect. After all I haven't done a stadium show since I was a little kid back when my Mom took me to see KISS over at Madison Square Garden. To this day the sight of Gene Simmons (in complete Demon make-up naturally) flying over a packed cheering stadium with his armpit batwings spread out dramatically like some vampire messiah all before landing dramatically on the stage to rip into 'Shout it Out Loud' has remained to me, some thirty years later, the quintessential definition of 'Rocking Out'. Of course I would later learn that old Gene was using hang-wires or something to fly about, but at age seven there was something just magical about seeing a fire-breathing, flying, genuine rock-star before my very eyes that just made me gasp with naive amazement. For a brief moment there I actually believed super-heroes were real.
But that was the late 70's and this is the early 21st century.
We arrived some thirty minutes before the doors opened. The parking lot was packed. Lots of guys in baseball caps, faux-hawks, striped short sleeved shirts and designer sandals. Lots of women in fuck-me pumps, padded bras, frizzed hair and size 14 asses packed into their size 10 designer jeans. There were a few old school rivet heads though lightly mixed in with the "NU-School Korn/POD/ICP" scene. There were more shaved heads and goatee's than a Myspace friends page and wayyyyy too many people actually wearing "NIN" shirts to the show.
On the way in to the arena we were greeted by members of some Christian youth group who were handing out pamphlets with the word "SIN" emblazoned in big letters done up in that Skinny Puppy font goth clubs used to use on their flyers throughout the late '90s. These kids stood there on the side of the line, handing out their pamphlets with those unwavering, creepy-soft smiles only the faithful can pull off, each gently reminding us as we passed that we were forgiven and that Jesus still loved us despite ourselves. Some of the angstier young men took the pamphlets and tore them up right in front of the Kid Krusaders faces. A shame really, I was hoping at least one of the Jesus Freaks would bust out with something appropriate to the show: "But Jesus also wants to 'fuck you like an animal'..."
When we started approaching the main door we ran into a snag. A security guard stopped us and warned that we weren't allowed into the arena with our belts because they were studded. We asked why this was and the guard shrugged and said those were the rules and he didn't make them. Now I can't really blame the Gwinnett Arena on this issue. Every year there are thousands of Studded Belt related homocides here in America. Now I'm quite the Second Amendment buff myself and thoroughly believe that when studded belts are outlawed only outlaws will have studded belts. In fact I only wear my spiked belt in case 'the shit goes down' and I find myself having to fight off some crack head terrorist in a dark alley. Then I'll be like 'Bitch, don't make me take of my belt and whup yer ass like I was J.J.'s Dad' (and hey kudos if you get the Good Times reference!). Well anyway since my contraband belt was holding my pants up we decided to sneak off, untuck our shirts and double back. That's when we realized that the security staff had metal detector wands and wear searching people for dangerous fashion accessories.
Now I don't know how we managed to do it... but we both pulled some kind of Jedi Mind Trick bullshit on the guards when we gave us the 'wave'....
"Oh that, that's just the metal button on my pants pocket see..."
"Dude... I had my hip replaced during Operation Enduring Freedom... not cool!"
... and so we snuck in. Now keep in the mind that the state of Georgia actually has a new gun law that allows it's citizens to 'cowboy up' and walk around shopping malls, resteraunts, sporting events and other public events with a fire arm. I literally could have gone to the show packed with my Nine... if, alas, I had a 'nine'. Go figure.
Once inside I discovered that the arena was basically a gigantic food court that circled a concert stadium. I found this really unsettling for some reason. I usually catch shows at smaller venues - shitty little dive bars, delapidated night clubs or renovated theaters - so for me this felt not so much as I was seeing a show but trying to catch a flight at an airport.
Well a four dollar hot dog and several ten dollar drinks later and the show started.
Wow!
For me the sign of a good concert is how close to the album the band actually sounds in real life. Few have impressed me on this level (The Ramones come to mind naturally, as well as Fear and Death In June when they played 688 years ago), on this the band absolutely delivered being as each song sounded as good live as they did when I first heard the CD (or casette tape in my case). Trent Reznor's vocals remain some of the best in the industry - going from rabid, guttural barks to that dead-sexy, smokey-seductive crooning he does that made every pair of panties in a twelve mile radius sopping wet. The band played a two hour and ten minute set (name your ten favorite NIN songs... okay, they played them) and had a stage show utilizing an epilipsey inducing light show along with state of the art CGI's that opened up parts of my brain not normally accessible without the right combination of hallucinogens and amphetamines. I had to step out at one point because it felt as if there was a Pokemon orgy going on in my frontal lobes and a horde of mechanical steel spiders had just crashed the party.
There were odd little details I noticed at the show. For one thing the entire arena was lit up with cell phone LCD screens. Through the darkness, between songs, you could see a swarm of these little rectangular lights bobbing up and down (picture a canyon filled with large fireflies that are too heavy to fly). What strikes me as weird were how many people seemed to be watching the show from their camera. I don't know... I just don't get that. The other thing was looking down at the floor in front of the stage and noticing that no one was dancing (even during the more stomp friendly songs). You had a few crowd surfers and a bunch of bopping heads but no Pit or anything like that. Also there is something surreal about hearing over a thousand people chanting "hard line/bad luck/fist fuck" all around me at one point.
All in all, it was the right show at the wrong place. Maybe I'm just old, but for me personally the place to hear NIN in public will always be an intimate little fetish club with plenty of good friends, cheap drinks and room on the floor to dance.
Still I had a great time and it has to be said that I've never seen a show quite like it in my life. Alright, now back to the novel...
The Gwinnett Arena
Section 118, Row U, Seat 14
The Magpie had scored an extra ticket to the Nine Inch Nails show last night. His girl wasn't particularly interested in going and he figured he'd have more fun with me. A free show on my unpublished author's salary! Well really, who's going to say 'no' to an offer like that?
Now to be honest I wasn't sure what to expect. After all I haven't done a stadium show since I was a little kid back when my Mom took me to see KISS over at Madison Square Garden. To this day the sight of Gene Simmons (in complete Demon make-up naturally) flying over a packed cheering stadium with his armpit batwings spread out dramatically like some vampire messiah all before landing dramatically on the stage to rip into 'Shout it Out Loud' has remained to me, some thirty years later, the quintessential definition of 'Rocking Out'. Of course I would later learn that old Gene was using hang-wires or something to fly about, but at age seven there was something just magical about seeing a fire-breathing, flying, genuine rock-star before my very eyes that just made me gasp with naive amazement. For a brief moment there I actually believed super-heroes were real.
But that was the late 70's and this is the early 21st century.
We arrived some thirty minutes before the doors opened. The parking lot was packed. Lots of guys in baseball caps, faux-hawks, striped short sleeved shirts and designer sandals. Lots of women in fuck-me pumps, padded bras, frizzed hair and size 14 asses packed into their size 10 designer jeans. There were a few old school rivet heads though lightly mixed in with the "NU-School Korn/POD/ICP" scene. There were more shaved heads and goatee's than a Myspace friends page and wayyyyy too many people actually wearing "NIN" shirts to the show.
On the way in to the arena we were greeted by members of some Christian youth group who were handing out pamphlets with the word "SIN" emblazoned in big letters done up in that Skinny Puppy font goth clubs used to use on their flyers throughout the late '90s. These kids stood there on the side of the line, handing out their pamphlets with those unwavering, creepy-soft smiles only the faithful can pull off, each gently reminding us as we passed that we were forgiven and that Jesus still loved us despite ourselves. Some of the angstier young men took the pamphlets and tore them up right in front of the Kid Krusaders faces. A shame really, I was hoping at least one of the Jesus Freaks would bust out with something appropriate to the show: "But Jesus also wants to 'fuck you like an animal'..."
When we started approaching the main door we ran into a snag. A security guard stopped us and warned that we weren't allowed into the arena with our belts because they were studded. We asked why this was and the guard shrugged and said those were the rules and he didn't make them. Now I can't really blame the Gwinnett Arena on this issue. Every year there are thousands of Studded Belt related homocides here in America. Now I'm quite the Second Amendment buff myself and thoroughly believe that when studded belts are outlawed only outlaws will have studded belts. In fact I only wear my spiked belt in case 'the shit goes down' and I find myself having to fight off some crack head terrorist in a dark alley. Then I'll be like 'Bitch, don't make me take of my belt and whup yer ass like I was J.J.'s Dad' (and hey kudos if you get the Good Times reference!). Well anyway since my contraband belt was holding my pants up we decided to sneak off, untuck our shirts and double back. That's when we realized that the security staff had metal detector wands and wear searching people for dangerous fashion accessories.
Now I don't know how we managed to do it... but we both pulled some kind of Jedi Mind Trick bullshit on the guards when we gave us the 'wave'....
"Oh that, that's just the metal button on my pants pocket see..."
"Dude... I had my hip replaced during Operation Enduring Freedom... not cool!"
... and so we snuck in. Now keep in the mind that the state of Georgia actually has a new gun law that allows it's citizens to 'cowboy up' and walk around shopping malls, resteraunts, sporting events and other public events with a fire arm. I literally could have gone to the show packed with my Nine... if, alas, I had a 'nine'. Go figure.
Once inside I discovered that the arena was basically a gigantic food court that circled a concert stadium. I found this really unsettling for some reason. I usually catch shows at smaller venues - shitty little dive bars, delapidated night clubs or renovated theaters - so for me this felt not so much as I was seeing a show but trying to catch a flight at an airport.
Well a four dollar hot dog and several ten dollar drinks later and the show started.
Wow!
For me the sign of a good concert is how close to the album the band actually sounds in real life. Few have impressed me on this level (The Ramones come to mind naturally, as well as Fear and Death In June when they played 688 years ago), on this the band absolutely delivered being as each song sounded as good live as they did when I first heard the CD (or casette tape in my case). Trent Reznor's vocals remain some of the best in the industry - going from rabid, guttural barks to that dead-sexy, smokey-seductive crooning he does that made every pair of panties in a twelve mile radius sopping wet. The band played a two hour and ten minute set (name your ten favorite NIN songs... okay, they played them) and had a stage show utilizing an epilipsey inducing light show along with state of the art CGI's that opened up parts of my brain not normally accessible without the right combination of hallucinogens and amphetamines. I had to step out at one point because it felt as if there was a Pokemon orgy going on in my frontal lobes and a horde of mechanical steel spiders had just crashed the party.
There were odd little details I noticed at the show. For one thing the entire arena was lit up with cell phone LCD screens. Through the darkness, between songs, you could see a swarm of these little rectangular lights bobbing up and down (picture a canyon filled with large fireflies that are too heavy to fly). What strikes me as weird were how many people seemed to be watching the show from their camera. I don't know... I just don't get that. The other thing was looking down at the floor in front of the stage and noticing that no one was dancing (even during the more stomp friendly songs). You had a few crowd surfers and a bunch of bopping heads but no Pit or anything like that. Also there is something surreal about hearing over a thousand people chanting "hard line/bad luck/fist fuck" all around me at one point.
All in all, it was the right show at the wrong place. Maybe I'm just old, but for me personally the place to hear NIN in public will always be an intimate little fetish club with plenty of good friends, cheap drinks and room on the floor to dance.
Still I had a great time and it has to be said that I've never seen a show quite like it in my life. Alright, now back to the novel...
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
no subject
on 2008-08-14 08:44 pm (UTC)no subject
on 2008-08-14 09:17 pm (UTC)Though I did indeed light my zippo and hold it high at one point. I know it's a complete cheese move but I figured 'fug it - how many times am I going to be at an arena concert'?
no subject
on 2008-08-14 09:37 pm (UTC)no subject
on 2008-08-14 10:06 pm (UTC)Anyway. When I got home, I was telling
Glad you're getting a break or two from the novel-writing efforts.
no subject
on 2008-08-15 01:07 am (UTC)I was thinking about your Closer remarks and it never occured to me before but one would could definetly say the great thing about NIN was they bought a certain erotic element to the early 90's Industrial scene. Maybe I'm wrong (I've had the unique honor of dating a young lady or two who found Throbbing Gristle appropiate 'mood' music)but I can't think of another band in during the emergence of that particular sub-genre that would really apply to.
It's funny but I can't really stop 'tinkering' with it. I keep meaning to move into the preliminary review stage but continually find little nuances of dialouge to add or some rough edges to the flow of the narrative that need some smoothing out. I know at some point soon I'll have to take the plunge so to speak and get it over with. Still compared to my Cube Farm years this entire year has felt like a much needed break.