Hit the Nail on the Head

Last Wednesday, I, along with Tom, and about 7,500 other fans, spent the evening at Scottrade Center listening to the rantings, fumings and bitter tirades of my high school hero, Trent Reznor – and company – for nearly two and a half hours. Despite the years since Nine Inch Nails hit the music bins (nearly twenty!), they still sound as good – if not better – than ever.

Out of all the albums I have bought in my years – and there have been well over a thousand, maybe even two – the only one I can remember specifics on is Pretty Hate Machine, Nine Inch Nails’ inaugural album. March 1989. It had come out the month before and was unlike anything I had ever heard before. Nothing else I have bought has impacted me as greatly.

Tom and I saw NIN play in November 2006 (or was it 2005?) from the floor, but this time we were in the stands. I know I need to lose some weight, but those seats are made for midgets. Plain and simple. I felt bad that Tom had to fold his frame into those seats, his knees pressing against the seatback in front of him. But I was stuck between two guys who would have benefitted from me sitting elsewhere so they could have my legroom. Next time, we promised each other, box seats. Not only more room, but away from the odious odors of the unwashed (and undeoderized) masses.

But to pass the time until the opening band started, we commented, as did others around us, that since Trent got clean (which we applauded, by the way), his music has lost some of its edge. Instead of anger and frustration, it seems like he’s… trying to whine. Life is good for him and yet his music is still trying to pretend that it isn’t. So instead of blatant hostility, Trent’s – dare I say it – bellyaching.

While I don’t want him to go back on the stuff, Trent somehow needs to be less happy. Because he’s just reachin’ now. And that ain’t cool.

The opening band sucked. It wasn’t that they were inherently bad. It was just that they weren’t good. Every single song sounded like the one before it. And since we saw Queens of the Stone Age last time, standards were set high. And were so not met.

But then…

(Might as well insert contented sigh here.)

Yes, the show was awesome. It was instant frenzy from the start. It was almost everything I wanted it to be (I think the last show was better, but not by much.) He started off with songs from his latest, The Slip, and it was impossible not to get sucked up in the madness.

Then on to a song that I knew. March of the Pigs from the Downward Spiral. Gads, I remember introducing people to the ‘World According to Trent’ in college almost fifteen years ago. Hearing Tom behind me sing along to March of the Pigs was especially amusing. Especially when I called him on it and he had no idea that he was even doing it. I was just surprised that I could hear him above the rest of the crowd.

By the time he finished the song, Trent was soaking wet. I knew there was no way he would wear a long sleeve, botton down shirt all night long. And not that I wasn’t appreciating how nicely it clinged. I was just anticipating the ‘gun show’ that was about to happen.

Pardon me while I wax poetic about the shedding of the burgundy dress shirt. If memory serves me right, he wore a similar shirt when I saw him last time. And a few songs into the concert, the shirt came off revealing a black tank… covering a very well toned body. I was not that lucky this time. It was a black t-shirt.

Which still wasn’t a bad view. But there are very few men who are not vastly improved by wearing a black tank top. Kinda like women’s legs in a pair of black stockings. Although the guy sitting in the row behind me would be an exception to BOTH rules. It was like watching a horrible car accident. And it didn’t help matters any that he kept turning away from the stage, essentially doing a 180 away from Trent, and would smile at me. I pray that he was making eyes at someone else, but the gross feeling remains.

Mid-concert, there was a musical interlude involving Trent playing a xylophone. A lot of critics loved the instrumental album Ghosts I-IV, but I want screaming bitterness. It just seemed to bring the show to a screaming halt. It took a while for the momentum to start up again.

The encore was amazingly long. Maybe too long. But he played Hurt, which every freakin’ person in the place felt compelled to sing along with. I’ll sing along at a concert. But generally out loud. People pay a lot of money to hear a musician – not me – sing. But, I suppose, it is one of those songs that BEGS to be sung along with.

Some of the songs from Year Zero and The Slip were vastly improved by being performed live. Others were just as bad as the album versions. But I was happy with the attempts, I must admit. Can’t win ‘em all, but dammit, Trent put in some serious effort that night.

I missed out on my favorite Nine Inch Nails song live – most notably Sin. Not a fan of the album version since I heard what it could turn into before an audience. Maybe I’ll start to feel the same way about songs from Year Zero and The Slip. But I did get Terrible Lie, Head Like a Hole, Closer, Wish, and Gave Up.

And as Trent said that night during his encore, the first time he addressed the audience, he was having one of those days when everybody was against him every second of the day – but his time on stage were the two best hours of his day.

Mine, too.
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Waiting for Tom Waits

I had a date that I had been anticipating for weeks this past Thursday night. Mister Tom Waits met me at the Fox Theater, even though he showed up almost an hour late. I knew he wouldn’t stand me up, so I wasn’t panicking; I was just mildly annoyed. But he more than made up for his tardiness by showing me the best time I’ve had in years. (Sorry, Barry. I only mean musically. Best time in years… musically.)

My courtship with Tom Waits has been somewhat of a whirlwind. I was introduced to him almost five years ago through a mutual friend, Todd. Once I heard Tom Waits sing, I was completely smitten.

I tend to get into music through other people and Tom Waits is, obviously, no exception. But he came along at a time in my life where there was a musical void. No one has been able to describe what genre Waits falls into without using a lot of adjectives, so I’ll spare you a description myself. But somewhere between true rock music and true folk music, I was missing the bridge between the two. Waits fit in nicely, although he would have fit in nicely between so many more genres, too.

Tom Waits is a brilliant songwriter and an impassioned singer, sort of along the lines of Bob Dylan. Although he has had much less commercial success despite being, I think, a bigger influence on other musicians than Dylan. But like Dylan, Waits doesn’t have the best voice, but no one sings Waits’ songs better than Waits himself. Springsteen has commandeered “Jersey Girl,” a song Waits wrote about his future wife, Kathleen. And the Eagles covered “Ol’ 55.” And while they might have better voices than Waits, there’s something to be said for the passion with which one sings. Plus, I happen to think that Tom Waits has a sound that in indefinable. His voice, low and gravelly, just slithers under your skin and tightens itself around you.

The stage looked like a cross between a carnival side-show act and somebody’s garage. Instruments were scattered haphazardly about and in the center was a raised round dais, covered in dust. Colored lightboxes acted as backdrop, as did the multitude of old-fashioned speakers that hung above the musicians like stars in the night sky. I could tell by the sparseness of the stage design, that I was in for a night of music rather than theatrics.

I’ll spare you a review of the concert. If you’re interested in a review, the Post-Dispatch actually did a great job of reviewing the concert. But I did copy the set list…

1. "Lucinda" ("Orphans")
2. "Way Down in the Hole" ("Frank’s Wild Years)
3. "Falling Down" ("Big Time")
4. "Black Market Baby" ("Mule Variations")
5. "All The World Is Green" ("Blood Money")
6. "Heigh-Ho" (Orphans")
7. "Get Behind The Mule" ("Mule Variations")
8. "Day After Tomorrow" ("Real Gone")
9. "Cemetery Polka" ("Rain Dogs")
10. "Hang Down Your Head" (Rain Dogs")
11. "Lucky Day" ("Black Rider")
12. "Johnsburg, Illinois" (Swordfishtrombones")
13. "Lost In The Harbour ("Alice" soundtrack)
14. "Make It Rain ("Real Gone")
15. "Lie To Me" (Orphans)
16. "The Other Side Of The World" (Night On Earth" soundtrack)
17. "Singapore ("Rain Dogs")
18. "Dirt In The Ground" (Bone Machine")
19. "What’s He Building In There?" ("Mule Variations")
20. "16 Shells From A Thirty-Ought-Six ("Swordfishtrombones")
21. "Rain Dog" ("Rain Dogs")

ENCORE
22. "Goin’ Out West" ("Bone Machine")
23. "Anywhere I Lay My Head" ("Rain Dogs")
24. "Innocent When You Dream" ("Frank’s Wild Years")

I have to say that “Innocent When You Dream” is one of my favorite songs of his… if not my absolute favorite. There’s a nonsensicalness to the song that just enamors me. And I waited two hours to hear him sing it… and I was not disappointed. Most of his songs are filled with passion and heartache. And while “Innocent” is no exception, there’s a lightness to the lyrics that make my heart soar.

"It’s such a sad old feeling, the fields are soft and green / It’s memories that I’m stealing, but you’re innocent when you dream."

And yes, it was a dream come true.

I only wish my friend Todd, who introduced Tom Waits and I, could have made it. Alas, I suppose I will just have to suffer and go again when Tom Waits next tours. it was what, only 30 years since he last came to St. Louis.
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