Nine Inch Nails back on tour

Several years ago, I found myself ankle-deep in mud at Arvikafestivalen, rain dripping down my neck while thousands of soaked disciples stared into the industrial storm that is Trent Reznor. He wasn’t simply playing songs. He was dismantling them, along with whatever emotional defenses the audience had left.

When the Wave Goodbye tour ended, it felt like the final chapter. Reznor packed it in, or so we thought. Then came Hesitation Marks, and suddenly Nine Inch Nails was alive again. This weekend I caught the Stockholm show, wondering whether lightning could strike twice. It could. Just not in quite the same way.

The opening stretch of the setlist was relentless. A parade of old favorites delivered with absolute conviction. Then the momentum sagged as the newer material took over. Even Reznor admitted he’d been in a foul mood for days, which, to be fair, is about as on-brand as it gets. But the lull was temporary. The final act detonated into a barrage of songs the audience had been quietly hoping for all night.

The highlights were plentiful. Eraser was transformed into a pile of tension and controlled chaos. The Great Destroyer made a welcome and unexpected appearance, accompanied by the only real conversation Reznor offered the crowd all evening. And March of the Pigs arrived like a precision-guided riot, driven by percussion that bordered on complete insanity.

Trent Reznor Almighty in Stockholm.

I’d read that the band had rehearsed around fifty songs for this tour, reshuffling the setlist every night. It showed, as nothing felt routine. I counted exactly one song I’d happily have traded for something else (Find My Way), but the rest ranged from excellent to breathtaking.

Halfway through the tour, Reznor had even cut half the band, including the formidable bass player Pino Palladino. A bold move, but somehow it worked. Robin Finck fortunately remained exactly where he belongs, holding the whole beautiful machine together.

The lightning and projected backdrops were simple yet suggestive, as expected. Nine Inch Nails has never needed fancy fireworks. The songs speak for themselves. No, it wasn’t And all that could have been. Nothing ever will be. But for two hours in Stockholm, it came remarkably close.

If you’re anywhere near Copenhagen tomorrow night, do yourself a favor. Go. With a band willing to rewrite the script every evening, there’s no telling what lovely ghosts they’ll decide to resurrect next.