I become violently engrossed in everything Trent Reznor touches. I’ve never come to a concise understanding as to the why of this conundrum, it just is. It has been this way since discovering the brown film from my all-black Pretty Hate Machine cassette tape had come completely undone, thus ending its illustrious one-year life inside my Sony Walkman. Thirteen years ago, this was a big deal. Fast forward to around 1999 and though the discovery of several other notable artists led me astray, I always came back to one of Reznor’s sobering piano ballads, or head-banged my way through some angry guitar riff. This all led to - what is in my opinion some of his best work - double-disc masterpiece The Fragile – where my shit officially hit the fan. It was shortly after this time that I was greeted with 1997’s Closure for the first time. Two unmarked black videotapes worth of soiled self-worth, topped with a hefty dollop of shock value for the sake of shock value, before the term shock value was even a coined everyday term.

One tape documents live performances broken up by backstage footage from the legendary Self-Destruct tour, in support of 1994’s The Downward Spiral, Reznor’s most successful album to date. Often clad in leather hot pants, fishnets and at times caking himself and his band mates with cornstarch, Reznor expelled sheer emotional carnage upon stage after stage. This led to stomping away at piano keys, hitting and tossing around fellow band members (even nailing then-drummer Chris Vrenna in the head with a mic stand) and infamously spraying his water bottle into front row crowds. Backstage antics include a competition for who could take down a hanging exit sign in a venue by throwing everything imaginable at it – including a couch – and a nifty appearance by Marilyn Manson who proclaims his hangover as a result of “too many drugs and alcohol last night.”

Tape two, a montage of music videos beginning with a dreadlocked Reznor in “Head like a Hole” all the way to the goateed goth in “The Perfect Drug” spanned eight years of S&M, nudity and bodily malfunction. You’ve got a man calmly ingesting a steak covered in flies for the instrumental “Help Me I’m in Hell,” an unedited “Closer” or the full-frontally nude Bob Flanagan being tortured and hacked to pieces by machines in the universally banned “Happiness in Slavery.” With close-ups. Of all his glory. For a breather, take in single-shot videos of “Gave Up” and “March of the Pigs” or live performances of “Hurt” and “Eraser.”
,br> Due to various business conflictions, the tape is one of the few to be converted to a physical DVD though fans still got their hands on what was supposed to be the extra footage to this, still Halo 12, via a torrent site in December 2006. Soon after, Reznor updated the official nin.com blog with “Happy Holidays! This one is a guilt-free download. (shhhh I didn't say that out loud). If you know what I'm talking about, cool" leading fans to believe he rebelled, leaking it himself for having so much trouble doing it officially.

I, however, hark back to the days of VCR, when I secretly waited for everyone in the house to sleep and marveled at all kinds of things I knew I shouldn’t be watching. Stuff that if I saw someone that age sneak in now, would prompt me to immediately physically destroy all its contents. Back then however, I was somewhat fixated on the beautiful but shocking, disgusting way one man’s success catapulted him into, well, Self-Destruction.

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