I've never been entirely sure what I think about Nick Cave. No doubting he's a genius, and some of his work really hits home to me, transporting me somewhere else. But then others ... don't quite. But this album - released in February 2021 and reflecting the angst and bizarre feel of the preceding year of lockdown and restrictions - has been a bit of a revelation. It was one of those that struck me quickly, although it also became better with age.
This is, again, a proper album (the art-form is well and truly alive and kicking in 2021) and one that deserves a proper listen (dark room, curtains closed?). It's a short record, with only 8 songs, clocking in at just over 40 minutes, but it's very dense - absolutely packed with content and atmosphere. Cave, working with Warren Ellis, makes very effective use of repeated musical themes and sounds, as well as recurring lyrical references (a balcony being one) tying it all together into a coherent, even if slightly awkward, package.
I see Carnage first off as typical Nick Cave: apocalyptic; poetic; dramatic imagery every step of the way. A good example? The title track includes a really effective, graphic, bit of lyrical imagery on his uncle 'turning chickens into fountains'.
Sticking with that title track, Carnage (which comes third on the album): My first impression on hearing it as a standalone song was familiarity. I felt like it was something from the back catalogue that I'd missed until now. Surely this has been around for all time? Part of that must come from Cave's unmistakeable voice and his (and Ellis') approach to writing. I think also that there are strong echoes of Into your arms, my love in this song, in its dark gentleness. The song is contradictory, in the true spirit of Cave. To me, this is what he does best - encapsulating magnificent, broken beauty in a few minutes of music.
This is a fascinating piece of music. As you listen, there are muffled drums and guitars shimmering and vibrating somewhere underneath you, and you realise that Cave and Ellis are conjuring up the feeling of looking back on fuzzy memories as you age, creating that almost hallucinatory feel to it all. There are vocal harmonies and then bells, almost dare I say it - Christmas-like. Perfect, for a May release - things up-ended again.
Going back to the first track, Hand of God. This is a dramatic opener. It starts with the false reassurance of Cave's voice singing relatively softly, with some soothing piano. And then, it all drops off a cliff, with an unsettling downward sweep of strings, plunging you down and inexorably down ... It's incredibly engaging and fabulously dark.
White Elephant, coming after Carnage, is also dramatic, and its violent, vengeful and powerful. But then about two-thirds of the way, the song resolves into an almost-jolly, bar-room-esque refrain, complete with honky-tonk piano, clarinet, strings, and a chorus of voices bawling out the chorus. And then those bells come in again, before "The time is coming, the time is now, for the kingdom in the sky". What is this? Where am I now?
From their, you're taken straight into the soothing piano opening to Albuquerque, the quiet but hard-hitting Shattered Ground, before ending up Balcony Man. It's on the surface quite a gentle final portion of the album, but there is still the unsettling undercurrent, and some of those recurring themes drill into your subconscious and leave you thinking.
The record is an unsettling listen in parts, exactly as you'd expect. But there are also moments of redemption and even joy. Those moments are all the more precious for their fragility. I could diverge into ramblings about how this a metaphor on life itself, but I don't want to get too far down that road. That way madness lies.
Instead, I'll just leave the album here for you to listen to: