When I first heard about Nine Inch Nails and heard a little of their music I thought, “Well who is this guy?” So I took a look, and I saw a face straight out of 15th century Spain. I think Trent could’ve played Zorro. If he’d been alive at the right time, I think he could’ve been painted by Velasquez or El Greco, and his portrait would probably be hanging in the Prado today.
Listening to Nine Inch Nails’ music, which is so often called industrial, I actually hear a lot of funk. Just listen to “Closer,” and the foundation could be Stevie Wonder or George Clinton. But on top of that is a focused and relentless process of emotional destruction, which paints a portrait of pain, pressure, and dissatisfaction. It’s the soundtrack to the dark and lonely party that was beginning to play out in America at that period, so I would call it not industrial, but the sound of industro, digital ambition.
I went to the Nine Inch Nails show at the Forum in Los Angeles—the one together with David Bowie—and Trent held the center of that room just by being a kind of dark spot hunched behind the mic. I’d seen the same thing accomplished in different ways by T. Rex at Wembley, Nirvana at the Pyramid Club, and Bob Dylan in ’65. This is the mark of the master artist—simply to connect.
The controversial and brilliant French novelist Michel Houellebecq when asked the secret to his success said, “It’s easy, just tell the truth.” Listening to Nine Inch Nails feels like hearing the truth, so it gets you a little bit closer to God. It is my honor to assist in inducting Trent Reznor and Nine Inch Nails into the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame.
Thank you so much, Iggy. Hello, everyone. What a disorienting, strange year we find ourselves in. As I’ve been wrapping my head around Nine Inch Nails being welcomed into the Rock & Roll Hall of Fame, I think I was most looking forward to the ceremony itself where the hopefully whole camp, past and present, was going to get together and have a moment. And we’re all stuck in our little boxes staring at our screens.
Even now, music’s always been the thing that keeps me going, and, as an artist, I think the most significant accomplishment or feeling is realizing something you’ve created from a fragile and intimate place has reached out and resonated and affected someone else, possibly changing how they see the world. So as to whatever being in a hall of fame means, thank you for the recognition.
With that said, this has been far from a singular endeavor, and I first one to introduce my fellow inductees: Atticus Ross, Robin Finck, Allesandro Cortini, Ilan Rubin, Danny Lohner, and Chris Vrenna. I love these guys and they’ve all been an integral and central part of why we’re here. Additionally, there’s been a number of other key players involved over the years I’d like to recognize and thanks, including Charlie Clouser, James Woolley, Rich Patrick, Josh Freese, Justin Meldal-Johnsen, Jerome Dillon, Aaron North, Jeff Ward, and Jeordie White.
Throughout the years I’ve benefited from a strong collection of people around me that’ve offered everything from encouragement to guidance to a kick in the ass when needed. These include Jimmy Iovine, John Silva, Marc Geiger, Ross Rosen, Alan Moulder, Rick Rubin, Zia Modabber, Bill Harper, David Fincher, Jerome Crooks, Steve Barnett, Jim Guerinot, and John Malm. You’re all appreciated and this is for you too. Special thank you to my wife Mariqueen and the kids, you keep me humble and everything worthwhile.
And for the Nine Inch Nails fans out there—you guys are the best. We’ve wound up in some weird places together, and you’re an intense bunch that can drive me out of my mind, but you’re the best. This journey’s far from over if I have any say in it, so let’s stop fuckin’ around pattin’ ourselves on the back and get to it. Hope to see you all in the flesh soon. Thank you.