Back in eight or ninth grade, I was in charge of holding the Sony Discman with surgeon-like precision (because it had zero skip protection) while riding shotgun as my brother drove the red Pontiac minivan to ski practice or school. This is where I first heard our borrowed copy of Nine Inch Nails’ “Pretty Hate Machine”. What was this music? Where could I get more? Who was behind it? That would be none other than Trent Reznor, and last night was the first time I would get to see Nine Inch Nails live.
The Roy Wilkins Auditorium has a special place in our hearts for bringing some of the coolest bands in and housing the fantastically badass Minnesota RollerGirls, but it also has a special place in Hell reserved for its inability to create the coveted First Avenue concert feel for bands like Sigur Rós.
This may come as a surprise to no one reading this, but in the 90′s, I had a huge crush on Shirley Manson. But then again, most guys and some gals would admit this as well. The sell-out crowd at Mill City Nights was waiting with bated breath, a handful of poor sight-lines and a major case of nostalgia to welcome Garbage back to Minneapolis.
Fleetwood Mac was always a staple on the turn table in my house growing up. My Dad was a huge fan, and my Mom loved him so much that she put up with it. I fell into the camp of really enjoying their music over the years and much like earlier this year with Bob Seger, I was finally getting to see one of my all time favorite bands up close.