Front row, squeezed to the point of no breathing, yet more alive than ever.
July 1st, 2025 – Uber Arena, Berlin. I can’t remember much. I remember a feeling: excitement. But first, a sense of peace. A deep emotion permeated my body when I first heard his voice live, before even seeing him. Seeing Trent. A Nine Inch Nails concert starting with a piano solo is unexpected, yet beautiful. And in a way, relieving.
That was something new. I mean, I heard his voice hundreds, if not thousands of times, but hearing it live hits different.
The performances from the second stage, man, it felt like a huge club with mindblowing sound and lighting design. I remember the beginning of the 2nd act from the main stage, opening that up with Wish. I craved that moment to happen. Right after the first chord, the mosh pit woke up, and suddenly I was smashed against the barrier. Broken, bruised, and sore, but man! The act was just like I imagined. I was possessed, and pressed. I was battling to save some space for my chest to breathe, while jumping, and pushing, and screaming, and head-banging, and pushing again, exactly as it is supposed to be at a NIN concert. Somehow, surprisingly, I managed to take a few pictures and videos.
I am honest, the pressure to get away with great pictures kills the whole experience. That is why I consciously put my camera away to watch them, to watch him, and absorb every second of it. I tried my very best to take indelible pictures with my eyes instead.
I have bits of scenes in my head: I was jumping a lot, and screaming every single word as if there were no tomorrow, and pushing, and being pushed, and sweating, and soaking in others’ sweat (so NIN vibes).
Front row, squeezed to the point of no breathing, yet more alive than ever. Suddenly, just a few moments before the song began, everything went quiet, as if we all secretly knew what was coming. The stage lit up with white lights, and the first notes confirmed our premonition. Hurt came, almost like a relief. It felt like sharing a sacred moment, a prayer. My eyes were glued to the stage while the melody resonated through my body, amplified by a thousand other chests. No one dared disturb the moment, as if we had been hypnotised into blind adoration.
It was so beautiful, and touching, and pure. I could see Trent’s Expression, feel the drums resonating in my chest, and the melody speaking to my soul. My eyes were glued to him, and a smile pervaded my face. As much of a soul-crashing song as it can be, I can sense it still holds a sparkle of hope. I still get goosbumps when thinking of it.
The final chord woke us from the deep trance we had fallen into. Trent removed his in-ear monitors and leaned on the mic stand. So genuine, yet so iconic. That’s when—surely unconsciously—I took this picture, at the very end of the show. And yet it speaks so loudly of what we had just witnessed, both audience and artist.
I have to admit that, because of them, now every other concert gets a bit boring.
Yes, sure, now you have big productions, artists flying over the crowd while riding floating things, but the atmosphere and tension that NIN built just by mastering lighting design is on another level.
They raised the bar. That’s it.
Once again, Trent proved his genius.
Text and photos by Nicole Sassi
