Nine Inch Nails O'Clock

Sunday was a day of grey rain, a day of technicolour heat. A day of euphoria and nerves. A day of friends and enemies. A day of idols and rabble. A day of really, really cool stuff... and, um... underwear.

Sctott and I, off we went to Birmingham, for one of the greatest days of our lives (of mine, anyway). We were off to see Nine Inch Nails in Carling Academy that night, and oh if we are but two nutty fans! Sctott moreso than I, he never misses a hint nor a lyric nor an opportunity in the slightest. In fact, due to Sctott's obsessive vigilance he had won a Meet and Greet session with the band.

Out of over preparation we made sure to arrive in Birmingham several hours before the Meet and Greet, scheduled at 4:15pm. When it was then postponed to 7:00pm, the time of the start of the gig, we had a whole day to ourselves. It consisted mostly of hanging around coffee shops and restaurants, failing to ingest properly out of anticipation. We shopped for clothes. Where I bought a rather fetching hood, the boy insisted on buying some green boxer shorts and arguing their worth and stylishness at length. I assure you, no male underwear is ever stylish. This is a fact of life, and no amount of green dye is about to change this. His cause was not furthered by getting them out to show his friend Aaron (with dibs on a spare ticket), as we sat in a pub waiting for time to pass.

So, at 7ish we are to be found waiting with various record label people in the main lobby of the academy. Eventually we are whisked single file through a windy corridor, a room where white towels are being washed, a room where white towels are hanging out to dry, and into the boiler room, housing three seriously Victorian style boiler units, and there we wait. And arrives the band! Trent in all his amazing loveliness, smiling and chatting, trailed by the other members of the band, Aaron, Jeordy, Josh and Allessandro. As Sctott holds out his copy of the Downward Spiral to be signed by Trent the following dialogue occurs:

Trent: What's this?
Sctott: It's the Downward Spiral.
Trent: Oh.

But Sctott, oh Sctott, what on Earth are you doing? He is offering wine gums to all the band, with an excitedly slurred "Would you like a wine gum?" and an obsessive clawing at the packet, and receiving mostly bemused refusals. I would have warned him not to scare them like that, but the band was in earshot all the while. The only exception was Josh, the drummer. "Ah, Maynard's," he notes as he places a green sweet in his mouth. (Before NIN he was to be found in A Perfect Circle, performing alongside one Maynard James Keenan, now of Tool.)

And then, there was just enough time for us to be ejected to the public area, dump bags and coats in the cloakroom, and get to the stage for Ladytron. When they'd done their bit it was not too long at all to wait...

And the band began at Nine Inch Nails O'Clock, and all was excellent. But who in my story shall play the role of the enemy? It turned out to be two girls behind me, who spent their entire gig experience trying to push in front of me, getting pissed when I wouldn't let them, and not even grabbing and pulling would work, and eventually screaming profanities at me when Sctott stopped them from performing some serious manoeuvre on me. And I don't know why, but I just found them funny, and kept to my spot in the crowd and had the best gig of my entire LIFE.

Sctott and I got home at some late hour with much merchandise, an autographed album each, and a sense of euphoria so strong it lasted the whole of the next day too. To finish the evening I had a shower, we sipped wine together and chatted, and I fell into bed shattered, clean, slightly tipsy, warm, and unbelievably happy.