NOS Alive '25 (Muse & Nine Inch Nails)

Me and Margarida had been waiting for this one for months. We bought our tickets the moment Nine Inch Nails were confirmed on the NOS Stage. One of our all-time favorite bands, finally live, together.

Getting there

NOS Alive takes place at Passeio Marítimo de Algés, right on the waterfront in Oeiras. We took the Cascais Line train to Algés station, which is about a five-minute walk from the entrance. Easy enough.

What wasn’t easy was the queue. We stood in the sun for a good while before we finally got our wristbands stamped and made it through the gates. But we were in.

The first thing that hit me was how LOUD the place was. Louder than most Swedish concerts I’ve been to, and I’ve been to some loud ones. Because I’m a gentle flower I had brought ear protection. Margarida thought it was funny. My eardrums did not complain.

The kebab situation

We went on a skirmish to find food. I went with a kebab roll. Now, I need to say this: it was nowhere near the beauty and art that is proper street food kebab from the Västra Götaland region of Sweden. That’s my regional pride talking and I will not apologize for it. But it was definitely worth eating. What I will complain about is that it was criminally small, which is something that almost never happens when you buy food in Portugal. Usually the portions here are absurdly generous. This was the exception.

Wandering

We walked around and heard bands playing faintly from various stages but nothing grabbed us enough to stick around. We had talked about potentially catching Amyl & The Sniffers or Foster the People (yeah, for that one song) but we decided against it and just saved our energy for the two acts we actually came for.

Muse

Muse were stepping in for Kings of Leon who had to cancel due to lead singer Caleb Followill needing emergency surgery. Not a bad replacement.

They opened with Unravelling into Hysteria and right there you’re reminded that Chris Wolstenholme is one of the most underrated bass players in rock. That Hysteria bassline live is a different animal. Distorted, relentless, driving the entire song while Matt Bellamy does his thing on top. It’s a bass riff pretending to be a guitar riff and it sounds enormous in an open-air setting.

Stockholm Syndrome came early and Bellamy threw his guitar into the air and then into his amp at the end. Classic Muse chaos. They ran through Psycho, Kill or Be Killed, Plug In Baby, Time Is Running Out, Supermassive Black Hole. All bangers.

Chris wore a Portuguese national team shirt with the name and number of Diogo Jota, the Liverpool and Portugal forward who had died in a car accident in Spain just nine days earlier at age 28, along with his younger brother. The whole crowd recognized it. It was a heavy moment in the middle of a loud show.

They closed the encore with Starlight. A good set. Wolstenholme held it down the whole way through.

Nine Inch Nails

After Muse we grabbed some water and waited. The main event.

Trent Reznor walked on stage dressed head to toe in black with combat boots and they opened with Acid, Bitter and Sad into Somewhat Damaged into Wish into Mr. Self Destruct. Those first four tracks set a tone that was just unreal. Relentless, abrasive, physical. The kind of opening that grabs you by the throat and doesn’t let go.

The bass on Mr. Self Destruct live is something else. That pulsing low end fills every inch of open air and you feel it in your chest before you hear it with your ears. Alessandro Cortini on synths and bass duties alongside Robin Finck on guitar and Ilan Rubin on drums. This lineup is absurdly tight.

March of the Pigs hit like a truck. Piggy brought it down to something tender. The Lovers from the newer material sat well next to Reptile, which is a ten-minute monster that builds and builds until the bass and drums lock into this groove that just crushes.

Closer needs no introduction. The whole crowd knew every word. The Perfect Drug was a surprise and its bass-heavy groove hit differently in person. They covered Bowie’s I’m Afraid of Americans, which Trent originally collaborated on and which felt especially pointed given the current state of things.

Every Day Is Exactly the Same, Burn, The Hand That Feeds, Head Like a Hole. One classic after another. And they closed with Hurt. Just Trent and that song. The whole arena went quiet.

Before leaving the stage, Trent made some comments suggesting he might leave the US and move to Portugal. Please do, Trent. We’ll take care of you.

The walk back

On the way out I grabbed another one of those kebabs to compensate for the first one being so small. Priorities.

We were ecstatic. Both of us just buzzing, talking about the set, walking through the scattered crowds still lingering around the area. People sitting on curbs, groups laughing, the whole post-festival atmosphere. It was a vibe I didn’t know I had missed. Just being out among people after a loud night, sharing that energy with strangers who all saw the same thing you did.

The train ride home was more of the same. Just talking to Margarida about the set, about which songs hit the hardest, about how long we’d waited for this. Seeing NIN together, finally, after all the times we’d listened to those records side by side. It hit different.

One of the best nights we’ve had.