Cold Cave, Nine Inch Nails, Academia, and Living in the Moment
A rambling tale about the connection between creativity, music, and being present
As a huge fan of Cold Cave, I was thrilled when they announced their recent tour, which included a stop on February 1st at the Fremont Country Club in my hometown of Las Vegas, Nevada. Of course, I could not pass up the opportunity. Beyond the band’s music, I also love Heartworm Press, the independent publishing house Wesley Eisold founded in 2006.
A former graduate student and current professor in English, I have borne witness to the often oppressive and disheartening nature of higher education: it is INCREDIBLY hard to get your foot in the door and achieve success as a writer within that realm. A war waged between the academic and personal. I began thinking:
Why couldn’t the two be intertwined?
Why does there have to be such a division?
Why can’t I do BOTH?”
I have never fit in my whole life, which was the case with my graduate studies. Here I was, the department’s resident goth misfit, out of place, especially when I looked at my peers and what they were doing. I saw them as achieving great accomplishments and success, and then me: on an island by myself. But rather than let my insecurities overwhelm me, I decided to play into what made me unique and subvert expectations in the process.
While there are certainly authors from a traditional canon who serve as useful foundations for critical examination and analysis, I’ve always been drawn to what lies between the cracks: the underexplored, what doesn’t SEEM “academic,” however you want to define that. I consider myself a multidisciplinarian, as I integrate other subjects, such as film and critical theory, into literary studies.
As I approached the end of my program, I had to write a thesis (for those that may not know, it is, in simple terms, an essay that acts as the culmination of your research), but I remained uncertain of what exactly I wanted to focus on. One late night, I had David Lynch’s Wild at Heart playing on my television. Though I had seen the film before, something about it hit differently: Angelo Badalamenti's beautiful score acting as a vivid and powerful backdrop to Sailor and Lula’s misadventures (played by the incomparable Nicolas Cage and Laura Dern, respectively). Watching it again made me ponder the connection between music and storytelling, how it can form an integral part of a narrative and become a “character” in itself. Soon, an idea stirred around in my mind:
“The concept album…as literature?”
I considered what bands I enjoyed that fit within this vision, and there was really only one choice: Nine Inch Nails. I (and many other fans) view The Downward Spiral as among their “best.” A dynamic, abrasive, and unforgettable piece of art, it transcends just being an album; it is an experience, an extraordinary journey into the human psyche, and a worthy subject of my thesis.
As part of my research process, I wanted to look into other musicians who had backgrounds in writing, which is how I stumbled onto Heartworm Press. Browsing their website, it’s as if a whole new world opened itself up to me: so many artists I admired, from Genesis P-Orridge to Mark Lanegan, had publications through them, which further reinforced that my mode of approach to this WAS worthwhile. I find it simultaneously hilarious and extraordinary that I received a master’s degree for writing about my favorite band and showing the new possibilities of what humanities scholarship could look like.
Immediately after graduating, I was hired on as an adjunct professor, and in 2023, I had the opportunity to teach an American Literature course. Wanting to, again, break the mold and keep my student’s interests in mind, when creating my syllabus, I made it a point to introduce them to writers they may not have necessarily heard of before, so I assigned work from Henry Rollins (who I had the good fortune of meeting) and Lou Reed, among others. Doing this expanded their minds and horizons and nurtured enthusiasm for reading and critically thinking about texts, my ultimate goal as an educator.
I’ve discussed this in other essays on here, but the December 6, 2023 mass shooting at the University of Nevada, Las Vegas (my alma mater and one of the colleges where I teach) completely changed my life. I grapple with PTSD both over this tragedy and other events from my past, and in the process of healing from this horrific act of violence, it uncovered many repressed memories I held deep within my consciousness: specifically my struggles with being on the autism spectrum. Music, however, provided solace and a language I could relate to make sense of what I was going through. In the aftermath of the December 6th attack, I sought comfort through many bands' work, including Cold Cave.
I’ve always enjoyed them, but now, I took time to TRULY LISTEN and let everything reach the deepest caverns of my soul. Wesley’s emotionally potent and poignant lyrics spoke to me; where I once felt despair, I now found joy, and it’s thanks to their music that I achieved growth and rekindled enthusiasm for LIVING.
Flash forward to the night of the show. I was the first in line at the venue, wearing a Nine Inch Nails shirt, trench coat, latex mini skirt, and flower-patterned tights. Shortly after 8:00 p.m., the staff opened the doors, and I headed inside.
In previous years amid my battles with addiction, I wouldn’t necessarily get completely “fucked up;” maybe a drink or two and then I would pop an edible, but I thought I needed these substances to enjoy myself:
“If I’m going to be here for X amount of hours, might as well go to the bar.”
Normally, that would be my first stop. Without being chained to the shackles of drugs, however, freedom and clarity enabled me to understand that as uncomfortable and foreign as it seems at first, I get much more satisfaction and fulfillment out of surrendering to the moment and being present.
After enjoying opening sets from Spelling Hands and DJ Paulie, at 10:00 pm, I walked over to Fremont Country Club, where Cold Cave’s set was about to start. Quickly saying hello to my friend James, I traversed through the sea of concertgoers and secured a spot in the crowd about 3 rows back.
Smoky fog began blanketing the dimly lit stage, and soon, the band came on, immediately breaking into “She Reigns Down,” the opening track off their new album Passion Depression (which is amazing). I stood there in rapt attention, awestruck:
“This is actually happening right now?!?”
I swayed and danced to the beats as they played other choice cuts like “Blackberries” and “A Little Death To Laugh. " One thing that became abundantly clear as I watched them was the sheer number of people on their phones.
I don’t want to give anyone grief, and I have no problem with people wanting to take a few pictures or a brief video, but I saw others texting and browsing Facebook and Instagram live “selfies” as Cold Cave was performing. It’s ultimately their prerogative; as long as they don’t disrupt me or the rest of the crowd, I don’t care, but they are missing out on fully experiencing what is happening in front of them NOW because they are seeking refuge behind a screen.
Going to shows is sacred to me; it is a form of therapy that allows me to forget all worries and focus on having fun. Though I am an English professor, I take much inspiration from theory and philosophy. In Politics, Aristotle discusses the sensation of elation and its connection to performance, stating:
“Some people are susceptible of being possessed; and these people, as a result of the sacred tunes, at such time they have made use of tunes that excite the soul to transport, we see being restored as if they had received healing and a purifying purge.”
Seeing my favorite bands live sends me to a whole other dimension entirely and acts as a form of catharsis and magical alchemy unlike anything else I have experienced; it’s the closest thing to a spiritual awakening I can imagine.
Following this incredible concert, I made a direct beeline to the merch stand to browse their selection, buying a t-shirt with the Passion Depression album artwork. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw they were also selling collections of poetry, including one featuring Wesley and Mark Lanegan. It seemed fitting to purchase this given both artists’ profound influence on rekindling my love and interest in writing, adding it to my swiftly growing array of Heartworm Press products (coincidentally enough, Year Zero is also the name of a Nine Inch Nails album).
After leaving the venue and returning to the neon-lit streets of Downtown Vegas, I trekked to my car on 7th and Stewart to get my usual post-concert taco fix brimming with euphoria, reborn, and ready to carry this positive energy forward and handle anything that comes my way head-on.
Dear resident goth misfit
This was a very entertaining read! I too love being live at a show, without the phone out. I have struggled with this, especially when I first got clean and began attending shows again, getting footage was my thing. I am guilty of filming whole songs; at Mr. Big in Highland I filmed almost the whole show, as Billy Sheehan was directly in front of me. I got to know him after that, when he tripped over his mic stand and asked if anyone had film of it to please send it to him. I did, and also a video of me playing bass to one of his tunes. He posted the short video to his Instagram and called me a "great bass player." If I can share the pic here in will. Thanks for the cool read, and much love and Light. I pray 🙏 you find peace from your PTSD my friend. Keep inspiring and encouraging, teach!