Trent knows how to masterfully construct a show. He manipulates the crowd like a dj in a dance club: working up to a frenzy, backing off, cooling it down, then working back up again. You are always ensnared in a visual and musical net. Never bored. Time flies. Copy of A makes a great lift hill, leading into 1,000,000 and Terrible Lie with MOTP as the first crescendo. A classic power opening. I always brace myself for MOTP. It's the point in the show where you learn the level of mayhem in the crowd. The surge, the crush, the surfers. On a mayhem scale of 1 to 5, this crowd rated about 1.25. That's not a value judgment. Times have changed. Maybe this culture of NIN fans just isn't into or accustomed to the sweat-swapping, sternum-bruising crush. Most of the people around me were quiet couples. Or maybe the guy behind me saw my gray hair and felt like he had to protect me, absorbing the crush behind him. Either way, I didn't need the change of clothes I brought with me in the car. I kind of missed the crush. It's viscerally exciting. I didn't miss having to dodge surfer feet and squinting through steamed up glasses. The best part, though, was being able to move around, jump, rock out. Crushes of yore sometimes had me hanging on for dear life. In a good way.