26 Years on My Way to Hell

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Slayer dude (by Shelley Hiam)

A superfan is like an elevated groupie. It goes beyond wearing a vintage tour t-shirt to the current show. Superfans catch multiple shows on the tour, traveling in cars shoe-polished with inside jokes only fellow superfans will get (see gallery). They're known in the fan club. They frame their tour posters. They can tell you everything about every lineup, album, and bootleg. Some are lucky enough to meet their idols and get an autograph. Even fewer get the autograph on their body tattooed (see gallery). Superfans argue about who is a bigger fan. They show up early to shows to guarantee that coveted spot on the rail.

I am a Nine Inch Nails superfan.

I've seen them 13 times. I have autographs, bootlegs, guitar picks, a fan club member card, lithographs, etc. I've taken my mom, who listens to barbershop quartets, to see them. In fact, my mom probably knows more than the average person about the band.

So last week, when I came upon a photo pass for the Dallas stop of the Lights in the Sky tour, she was the first person I called. I've been dreaming about shooting Nine Inch Nails since I was in middle school and first picked up a camera. The motivation grew stronger the first time I saw the band perform live: May 23, 2000, also the day I graduated from high school.

Sunday night I charge four camera batteries even though most of the time photographers get a three-song limit at big-act shows. I clean my lenses and rearrange my camera bag. I am prepared. On the way to the concert, the local DJ says there's already more than 300 people in line despite the rain. The excitement grows.

In the parking lot last night, I run into fellow fans who eagerly hand me homemade "Art is Resistance" stickers from the Year Zero album and corresponding alternate reality game. One guy has his face painted with the flag logo. He lifts up his shirt to reveal multiple NIN tattoos, including the last touring lineup's autographs. I see a van painted with the words "Spiral Van o' Love," amongst other things. (The Spiral is the name of the fan club.) I bond with a woman with orange hair over being females in male-dominated professions (she's a carpenter).

I walk up to will call. All photo passes have been canceled because Trent Reznor doesn't want his picture taken tonight. Denied. But, as a friend reminds me, you can't be down at a concert. I find a group of high school students. One kid eagerly tells me how he's been dying to see NIN since he was in the first grade. Their excitement brings me up a notch, and we geek out together about box sets and Trent's favorite color (green).

I meet another couple who have painted their faces for the concert, and a guy with a purple mohawk (see gallery). I briefly join a tailgate in the parking lot. They're blaring Nine Inch Nails and are waaaaaay pumped up for the show. One guy has "Slayer" written on his forehead and is headbanging in the parking lot. When I ask to take his picture, he chugs a beer, most of which ends up on his shirt (see gallery).

The show starts and I'm completely blown away. 112 lights backdrop the stage in synchronized pulses. Three screens of lights (only one panel temporarily malfunctions) stagger throughout the set to create everything from a beach front to television snow. Josh Freese is a machine. Robin Finck seems downright giddy to be playing with Trent again. I get to hear "Down In It," new versions of "Piggy" and "Hurt," and "Vessel," my favorite track from Year Zero. Just when I think the show can't get any better, the setlist transitions perfectly and the light tricks continue to amaze. The illusions during "Only" get the crowd going as Trent seems to be controlling the light patterns with his hand. For the first time, I'm the right age for a "Wish" sing-along.

Midway through, the lights lower to cage the band for the Ghosts part of the set. The instrumental songs take on a symphony quality; Trent plays xylophone, and there's a standup bass! Even the muscle guys in the pit don't seem to mind, and the crowd actually shuts up to listen. Mr. Reznor is a man of few words tonight, taking time to thank the crowd, but not saying much else. "In This Twilight" closes the set and almost brings me to tears. Two hours have flown by and I haven't had a chance to absorb it. I find out more tour dates were announced earlier, and the band will make an Oct. 23 appearance in San Antonio. I can't wait to relive it all.