It’s not their fault.
Some things just don't, or can't, translate to the bigger stages.
I've seen full bands with backing singers and more being
beaten down by the experience, and equally I've also seen an individual project
their personality to tens of thousands of people comfortably.
It’s not an easy thing to do, and Cold Cave
In an intimate club they probably strip the paint off the
walls, but they are like a kid wearing their parent’s clothes in this instance.
Dwarfed by them and striking a bit of a ludicrous stance as
they desperately try to gain a foothold with the audience.
Part of the problem may however be that virtually no one is
there to see them.
The night belongs to Trent Reznor.
He’s been breaking musical ground for decades now and where
he leads others are keen to follow.
Initially it’s a minimalist performance that eases forward
to touch the audience lightly, but then with the gradual introduction of the
band, and an increasingly more obvious light show, it grows larger, feels more
muscular, and ultimately builds to a monstrous level.
At times the imagery behind Reznor is a subliminally
delivered dystopian nightmare that sits well with the broken beats that aurally
assault the senses, and perversely it all makes perfect sense even though it
probably shouldn’t.
It is this, and a hundred other things, snapping like bolts
of electricity across the synapses that push the audience to the edge of
sensory overload, but then manages to hold them hanging on the precipice to
give them a taste of true anarchy without dropping them into the madness that
is a hairs breadth away that impresses most.
I expected it to be a breathtaking and exhilarating experience,
but it was more than that.
Words really can’t do it justice.
Stunning from start to finish.
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