Nick Cave & the Bad Seeds

Well before tonight’s show at London’s O2 Arena, much had already been said and plenty of comment made in the media about this Bad Seed’s tour. Wild God is an album that emerges rapturously from a tremendous time of grief for Nick Cave following the tragic, untimely deaths of two of his sons, not to mention the loss of his mum, and Birthday Party partner and collaborator Anita Lane. Yet, out of the indescribable, Cave has crafted music and poetry these past years that has developed into something so much more than his own personal cathartic release but has been a source of comfort and inspiration for countless fans across the four corners of the world. And not just the albums of course, but his dedication to the Red Hand Files and the honest empathetic and eloquent replies he gives in response to some of life’s less easy questions. Grief runs a cycle, and recently after much processing of his own experience, he has been exploring the subject of joy with the readers of the Red Hand Files, and if there was one word that sums up tonight’s performance, then that would be it – joy. Albeit, with all is complex nuances.

There is a kindred intimacy and connection that’s been fostered amongst Cave’s fans, even if it is an illusion of sorts. Still, expectation is high, and the audience is eager to engage from the start. The set opens with three big and melodic redemptive songs from the new album, including the titular Wild God with its uniquely Cave-esque imagery of a deity not vague and distant but deeply engaged in the human experience, ‘moving through the flames of anarchy, blowing with the winds of eternity’. Cave is bursting with energy from the get-go as he prowls the stage, skipping between his piano and out-front taking hold of adoring outstretched hands. Warren Ellis with his wizardly beard is writhing and kicking, and the rest of the Bad Seeds (which includes Colin Greenwood on bass) are holding a tight line, whilst a gospel quartet elevate the vocals to ecclesiastical levels of rapture.

The new album is both lyrically intriguing and musically exuberant and Cave doesn’t let up on the emotional energy. ‘There’s no fucking around with this record. When it hits, it hits!’ he’s quoted as saying, and at times the vibe is almost transcendental. The new album takes centre stage along with a bunch of songs carefully chosen from his 40 plus year back catalogue. Cave announces O Children with a sombre reflection of how we fail as a society to protect our children - it is a moving rendition. Jubilee Street takes things up a level with Cave dancing and spinning about the stage to the refrain ‘I’m transforming, I’m vibrating!’ Whilst From Her to Eternity and Tupelo are let loose with a touch of primal fury. Then in stark contrast, mid-way through Cave takes things right down and performs a heart wrenching rendition of I Need You. Stripping it back to just piano and a fragile, broken vocal.

The main set ends big with Red Right Hand, The Mercy Seat, and White Elephant. Then an encore follows that includes O Wow O Wow - a tribute to Anita Lane - and The Weeping Song, before Cave dismisses the Bad Seeds (fond farewells for Warren Ellis abound) and then welcoming the audience to sing along, he takes the piano one last time to perform Into Your Arms. The perfect coda to end the show.

Any criticism of the night lies with the O2 being just a tad too big that there’s the risk of not being entirely engaged and a part of the vibe if you’ve not bought the ‘premium’ seats. But Cave is so very generous with his time and energy and together with the Bad Seeds they deliver an emotional, exceptional, and life affirming performance that is crowned with joy.