Divine timing or technical fail? NIN’s fog machine baptizes Trent Reznor in front of 13,500 fans

As Nine Inch Nails coursed through 1989’s “Sin” — with its religious overtones and lyrics about pain, suffering and consequences — Trent Reznor received an unexpected baptism from a higher source: a leaky fog machine, strapped to a lighting rig above the group, that briefly doused him with water like a divine prank.

“I’m trying to play it cool up here,” the NIN frontman quipped in front of 13,500 fans gathered at Oakland Arena on Wednesday, Aug. 6. “It’s the first time that’s happened in my life, so thank you for sharing that with me.”

Reznor is evolving. Back in the ’90s, the mercurial alt-rock icon regularly curb-stomped keyboards and guitars that didn’t cooperate. Now at 60 years old with a family and trophy shelf full of Oscars and Grammys for his soundtrack work with fellow NIN member Atticus Ross, this was a kinder, gentler Reznor on display. 

That said, the rage and vulnerability that fuels decades of NIN anthems (“Closer,” “Head Like a Hole,” “The Hand That Feeds”) is channeled in a more productive way. The band’s 90-minute concert was divided into four acts, each with a different framing and presentation. The members got their steps in, moving from the main stage to a mini-stage in the center of the arena and back again. The overall feeling was that of a museum installation that artfully flowed through moments of intimacy, detachment and reconciliation. 

It was also very loud and very Nine Inch Nails.

Oakland was the first U.S. stop of the band’s global Peel It Back Tour, their first in three years. At 8 p.m., German techno DJ Boys Noize set the tone with a pulsing hourlong set that stretched from Djedjotronic’s “Are Friends Electric” remix to Curses’ “Fortify” to a track by his tour bosses Reznor and Ross, “I Know,” from the 2024 “Challengers” soundtrack.

Then the show quickly shifted gears.

At exactly 9 p.m., a curtain dropped, revealing Reznor sitting solo at a keyboard in the middle of the arena, opening with a tempered “Right Where It Belongs.” At its conclusion, bassist Alessandro Cortini, guitarist Robin Finck and keyboardist Ross joined Reznor for two deconstructed B-sides, “Ruiner” and “Piggy,” confirming this part of the show was for longtime supporters, many sporting vintage NIN shirts and leather jackets.

The band then moved from the mini-stage to the main stage to reunite with 2005-08 NIN drummer Josh Freese, who rejoined the band after his split with the Foo Fighters. In his first show back, Freese kept pace with minimal movement powered by muscle memory.

“This f—er rehearsed with us for one day,” Reznor remarked about Freese. “It took the rest of us months to learn this s—.”

The main stage was encased in translucent fabric. Camera and spotlight operators scurried around the stage capturing raw handheld footage that was projected onto this scrim, giving an eerie 3D effect. “Copy of A” benefitted from this treatment, as jittery images of Reznor played off the song’s search for identity.

During this six-song set, NIN faithfully recreated their trademark buzz saw sound. Reznor’s voice was in fine form, able to summon anguish and loss with both force and nuance. “Wish” and “March of the Pigs” formed a lethal one-two punch that leaned into hardcore. “Gave Up” was another adrenaline spike with Finck adding vocals and Freese coolly keeping double-time. 

To reset the vibe, Boys Noize joined Ross and Reznor back at the mini-stage for a four-song set of remixes including “As Alive as You Need Me to Be” and “Came Back Haunted.” The trio fed off each other in what was the most futuristic and spontaneous part of the night. During “Vessel,” Reznor switched between standard mic and vocoder to straddle man and machine personas. 

Then the translucent fabrics came down for a roaring seven-song main stage closer that highlighted NIN fan favorites like the naughty stripper anthem “Closer” and caustic anti-authoritarian screed “Head Like a Hole.” Freed from the artful window dressing, NIN pummeled the crowd with waves of archaic sound as a small circle pit opened up and a couple people crowd-surfed like it was their Gen X heyday.

Loud moments like these made the quiet ones stand out. NIN’s fragile lament on addiction in “Hurt” closed the show on a solemn note. Single spotlights illuminated the band as Reznor summoned visceral pain and regret, emptying his soul on the line, “Everyone I know / Goes away in the end.” Those words still possess power decades later. 

Nine Inch Nails has grown creatively, commercially and cathartically over the past 37 years, but Wednesday night’s Oakland performance reminded just how timeless they are.

Todd Inoue is a freelance writer.