WORCESTER - A Nine Inch Nails concert might be the cheapest therapy session around. For two hours at the DCU Center Sunday night, NIN mastermind Trent Reznor dug deep into a catalog that still speaks to generations of casual rock fans and disillusioned outsiders alike. The capacity crowd was notably full of youths who were probably babies when "Pretty Hate Machine" roared out of the gate in 1989.
Reznor isn't your typical frontman, though. He's compelling live partly because you get the feeling he's just as anxious and agitated as you are. And his fans have followed his every creative whim, from early industrial rock to a recent detour into more contemplative instrumentals.
How, then, does such an iconic band speak to its whole audience? As broadly as possible. Reznor, often hanging from his mike stand as if clinging to a piece of driftwood out at sea, surveyed nearly every phase of NIN's discography Sunday night. The heavier songs - "Wish," "Terrible Lie," "Head Like a Hole," and "Gave Up" - have aged surprisingly well, becoming anthems that still incite the masses. It was hard not to feel something as Reznor sang, "I don't feel anything at all" on "1,000,000."
The band's shows are more than just music; they're spectacles, as much about the vibe and visuals as the songs. In addition to fan favorites ("Closer," "The Great Destroyer"), Reznor worked in a 20-minute set of downtempo melancholy that offered a welcome respite from the show's intense first half.
The band used a wall of lights to dramatic effect, especially on songs from "Ghosts I-IV," this year's double-disc album of instrumentals. Sometimes it was a fortress of static light or simulated rain that poured so heavily it obscured the group. But then, spots would open in the lights to reveal Reznor caroming off bassist Justin Meldal-Johnsen or wild-man guitarist Robin Finck.
During "Survivalism," a backdrop of surveillance-camera images cast eight different scenes. One panel captured Reznor right in the moment; another zoomed in on the audience. And then there was a public restroom, at first empty until a couple came in, looked around, and proceeded to have sex on the sink.
Reznor upped the theatrics even more with a surprise cameo by Peter Murphy, the Bauhaus frontman often credited as the godfather of goth rock. Calling Reznor "a true poet," Murphy vamped his way through "Reptile," at one point looking like he was going to yank the keyboards offstage.
That performance frenzy pretty much eluded Deerhunter's opening set. As he did with the Dresden Dolls in 2005, Reznor chose an interesting up-and-coming band to kick things off. But no amount of droning guitars and drums or frontman Bradford Cox's haunted vocals could ward off the tepid reaction from an audience that really just wanted the main course - and to scream in unison.
James Reed can be reached at jreed@globe.com.![]()


