Dancing on Reznor’s edge

Jonathan Weber

Friday, June 25, 1999 | 3:18 a.m.

First published on Oct. 20, 1995.

It doesn't take long to understand the troubled mind of Trent Reznor. Just listen to his music. Then try watching it.

The night's many jackbooted fans with severe crew cuts had no problem. They listened, writhed and contorted, perfectly comfortable with the Gothic, 90-minute set of searing syntho-noise Thursday at the Thomas & Mack Center.

OK, maybe it was noise with a point. It certainly bordered on avant-garde. Yet regardless of Reznor's creative genius, hardcore fans knew exactly what to do when Nine Inch Nails fired up the place.

For many, listening required swinging balled fists wildly in the air while furiously rubbernecking as though their heads would fly off at any moment.

It wasn't as though the place needed firing up. Prick, one of the opening acts, had already done the dirty work, blasting its own brand of musical anarchy. In no time, the mosh pit took shape and bodies were flung toward the stage on a sea of hands.

That's when Reznor took over. And he was even more out-there than they were.

It wasn't as though he had nothing else to do. Switching between guitar, bass and keyboards, Reznor displayed notable diversity. Still, nearly everything Reznor did was extreme, stirring the storm with his frenzied fits of lunacy. He even allowed the mob to pull him off the stage.

Pounding his keyboard with both fists, it was difficult to believe he was actually playing. And for the guys who did look like they were playing, well, Reznor took care of them. During the hit "Closer," Reznor took guitarist Danny Lohner by the back of the head, flipping him back and toppling the keyboard. Reznor then attacked a roadie who tried to upright the fallen synthesizer, and the two spun in circles, aimlessly grappling.

Strangly enough, you couldn't detect any audible consequences from this or any of the other onstage scuffles. But then, there was a lot of generally undefinable noise and quite a few prerecorded keyboard and rhythm tracks clicking and surging at any one time. It was difficult to keep track of which effects were live and which were taped. The crowd, however, hardly seemed to mind.

In the swirling mosh pit, reckless ruffians orbited counterclockwise near the floor's center, appropriately increasing their speed with the up-tempo slasher "March of the Pigs," then slowing upon hearing the gentle-yet-deafening "Piggy."

In the end, Reznor did pull a few choice moments out of his hat. His synth solos were fluid, actually melodic. His screaming-to-the-point-of-choking tenor occasionally showed sensitivity. And darned if he didn't just pick up a saxophone during yet another dreamy synth instrumental and play with the panache of a seasoned studio player.

Too bad the Nine Inch Nails set was over by the time Reznor really got started. By the time the dim yellow stage lights were raised enough to see that, yes, it was actually Reznor playing saxophone, a taller, blonder figure strode out from behind the backstage curtain. Suddenly Reznor, when paired with the newcomer's British and decidedly more mature vibrato, began to make music. It was clean and distinguishable. Funny how the simple insertion of David Bowie into the picture cleared things up in a hurry.

Their duos on Bowie's "Scary Monsters" and Nails' "Reptile" proved Reznor is capable of music worth listening to.

He just needed a little help from a friend.