Article, Review

Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds // Skeleton Tree Review

Nick Cave is often at his most pretentious, and his most farcically overblown, when he indulges his demonic preacher alter-ego. As his croon has deepened and mellowed in his later years, he has developed a voice that is almost excessively rich in drama. His lyrics, which already walk a fine line between the poetic and the ponderously cliché, can seem exaggerated into melodramatic farce.  

This, however, is a rare record where Cave truly sounds sincere. I have no doubt that his previous works have been performed with unshakeable sincerity and conviction – his passion and presence is undeniable – but here it for once sounds less like an act, a character, a stylisation. It is almost painfully real. Continue reading

What's Playing

Posting this has forced me to finally confront the awful truth that Nick Cave’s face is real. His messy, messy, elongated, nightmare confusion of a face. And the hair, oh lord the hair. And the facial hair, sweet mercy no. His face is a paradox – something you would never want to look at but yet inevitably find yourself drawn to.  You think you can unravel the mystery of his distorted mess of flesh, but you can’t. No one can. Even the way he moves is terrifying in it’s own perverse, inhuman way. Watch the video to Jubilee Street and you’ll see for yourself that it seems impossible that this man can actually exist. Continue reading