NIN Philly

The Dresdon Doll’s opened for NIN. It wasn’t my thing - both are obviously talented but shrug.

During their cover of Warpigs, someone born in the late 80’s in front of me asker her boyfriend if it was an Ozzy song.

Sabbath covered by a piano and drum group? You don’t say!?

I should have at this point went to the beer corridor but didn’t want to miss anything.

Intermission. Lame hip-hop w/ the vocals karaoke-machined out leaving only lame drum and bass. The lights went out and Pinion starts playing. The entire floor rushed forward about five feet, packed like sardines.

Trent and the rest of NIN came out and everyone moved another five feet forward, although I’d not have thought it possible and movement ceased to be an option.

Trent, by the way, is built, at least from the waste up, like He-man. It’s wierd. The Les Paul he was playing looked like a toy guitar with those huge arms bashing on it - silly.

Oh back to the music, what was he bashing out? Wish. The inability to move quickly became the inability to refuse to move as the entire floor went ape-shit reacting to pits forming, jumping, etc…

As fun as that sounds, it’d not my bag. I ignored it for the first 3/4 of the set, enjoying a few tracks from The Fragile, Sin, Terrible Lie, March of the Pigs, Closer, Burn, (none in that order) and a few other tunes until Starfuckers came on – never really liked that song, escaped to the beer-garden isle for my only beer of the evening as the venue was all ages and only serving in a small roped off coridor at stage-left.

I think I’ve got an atrophied angst, because as awesome as the show was, I wasn’t blown away - it would have been better enjoyed by me-eight-years-ago. I think I need to turn in my cool-card, just as soon as I find where I lost it.