Melodic ballads with allusions to another world, an ethereal gospel-like presence, the class of a crooning elder statesman, and the rock and roll darkness tinged with hope—all of these elements make up the ridiculously wonderful Nick Cave, who personifies them effortlessly and with a level of consistency that’s hard to comprehend.
The word “ethereal” perfectly encapsulates this former punk racket merchant. Long gone are the days of The Boys Next Door, “Nick the Stripper” or “Hands up who wants to die!” as he wonderfully asked during his time as lead doom, strung-out sinister gang leader in The Birthday Party.
Now, he has become the closest thing to a profound religious experience I’m likely to have—and without the trouble of entering a bloody church.
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As with most Bad Seeds performances, tonight’s show feels like a melancholic sermon, blending grinding moments with transformative, rousing blasts of beauty (notably in ‘Jubilee Street’). Nick Cave and the Bad Seeds recently released their 18th studio album, the beautifully moving ‘Wild God’, and while many of its standout tracks (‘Conversion’, ‘Song of the Lake’, ‘Final Rescue Attempt’) made the setlist, long-time fans were also treated to the classics.
“Bring your spirit down,” Cave crooned early on, captivating the audience from the very first moments. And the brilliance of ‘Wild God’ continued with several surprises along the way. I didn’t expect to hear the heart-wrenching love letter ‘I Need You’ (from 2016’s ‘Skeleton Tree’) —a perfect example of Cave’s ability to sing as if his life depended on it, clinging to each note with every fiber of his being. Dear reader, have you ever wept during a concert? Well, you’ll know my answer to that at least.
As is customary at a Nick Cave gig, and despite the show not being sold out, the atmosphere was thick with reverence, electricity, and raw emotion. Cave managed to deliver his signature blend of gloom, redemption, grace, and impeccable style, all wrapped in song and presence. It was remarkable.
The standout tracks of the night were, unsurprisingly, the timeless classics. ‘Papa Won’t Leave You Henry’, ‘The Weeping Song’, and ‘The Mercy Seat’ were as powerful as ever. Over the two-plus hour set, the audience felt both the weight and the lightness of existence wash over them, like a wave to wake you on a drowsy Monday morning. Needless to say, the solo encore rendition of ‘Into My Arms’ brought the crowd together once again, in an evening where we were continually spoiled.
No longer your typical rock n’ roller, Cave’s profound sorrow (I hear losing two sons can have that effect) has elevated him to something otherworldly—a figure who embodies both grief and transcendence and an example for all to follow and take note of. When he sings ‘O Children’, it feels like an invitation to rejoice, to join him on his journey towards finding a light at the end of suffering.
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Words: Henry Jackson
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