Nick Cave is a musical enigma, seen by many as a kind of bleak beat-poet with a preference for Gothic piano and deep subject matter. The fact is that Cave remains a constant source of intrigue and wonder - never reinventing so much as evolving. His last album 'Nocturama' sought to bring back his long faithful backing band, The Bad Seeds, and recapture the lost essence of youth and exuberance. The magnificent 'Babe, I'm On Fire' aside, what it proves is that the previous record 'No More Shall We Part' was heading in the right direction, in spite of critical assertions to the contrary claiming Cave has lost all of his dynamic post-punk past. It is simply the best album Nick Cave And The Bad Seeds have put their name to in a long time. And Abattoir Blues / The Lyre Of Orpheus is even better...It would be easy to say that the two halves of Abattoir Blues / The Lyre Of Orpheus are very different. They are packaged together as a convenient marketing strategy for they have separate names and deliberately divorced track listings. Granted, 'Abattoir Blues' immediately plunges the listener into the hard rock chaos of 'Get Ready For Love', a dark menacing take on religious irony - 'Praise him till you've forgotten what you're praising him for'. Even when Cave sings 'The mighty wave their hankies from their high-windowed palace' and 'Calling every boy and girl, calling all around the world', it is done with such subterfuge and guile that he simply gets away with it when others would stumble and fall. With much of Cave's song writing, it is hard to tell if this is anti-establishment with Cave's voice so twisted with dark cynical edges. The overwhelming presence of the London Community Gospel Choir suggests otherwise. It is a wonderful paradox.
But 'Cannibal's Hymn' is a slow bluesy metaphor-centred dirge and familiar Cave territory. The bass and organ combine with such deft professionalism that it is easy to see why The Bad Seeds are such a musical force. This could live on either half of the album. Even the magnificent 'Hiding All Away', with more superb backing by Cave's female cohorts, is not overtly 'hard'. It is a wonderfully gritty blues piece that stalks the middle ground between full-on rock and whimsical ballad - all the while soaked with Gothic overtones and a deep brooding sense of foreboding. If it's one thing that Nick Cave does well, it is that he acts - he becomes a character within his songs. Coupled with some of the most inspired, weird and compelling lyrics, his songs become stories so quickly that you are dragged into 'his world' - 'You approached a high court judge. You thought he'd be on the level. He wrapped a rag around your face and beat you with his gavel' is simply great poetry. Cave goes on to discount any criticism by singing 'You searched through all my poets from Sappho through to Auden. I saw the book fall from your hands as you slowly died of boredom'. As the momentum builds, as it does with much of Cave's work, the song climaxes with the notion of impending war, complete with gospel choir is full flow. Truly inspired.
'Messiah Ward' is another timeless ramble with Cave's relentlessly tearful voice interrupted by a start/stop chorus, some more great female backing and a great piece of piano to fade. At the end it doesn't feel like over five minutes. Slightly longer is the monumental 'There She Goes, My Beautiful World' which easily puts Spiritualized to shame. Musically, everything is in it's place as Cave belts out lines such as 'St. John of the cross did his best stuff imprisoned in a box' and goes on to name drop Marx, Gaugin, Larkin and Dylan Thomas. In spite of it's furious pace and momentum, and Cave sounding like a TV evangelist, this is a great love song, full of passion and energy. The line 'I look at you and you look at me and deep in our hearts know it, that you weren't much of a muse, but then I weren't much of a poet' is another slice of Cave brilliance. If there is a recurring sound in this album, it is that of a building energy and an underlying force to produce the momentum of the music and vocals.
If there is a true surprise on the album, it is 'Nature Boy'. It sounds like someone else using Nick Cave's voice - a ridiculously good slice of 70's pop, dangerously close to Cockney Rebel (the point, apparently). It is home to not only the most upbeat, sing-along chorus Cave has ever produced, but also the best line - 'I was walking around the flower shop like a leper coming down with some kind of nervous hysteria'. If this wasn't amazing enough, Cave goes on to sing 'when I saw you standing there, green eyes, black hair, up against the pink and purple wisteria'. This is better than Thom Yorke, Chris Martin and Eminem put together.
The title track of this first half is another dark (really?) love song. Always one to find the right words at the right time, Cave chooses to match the line 'I got the abattoir blues' with 'right down to my shoes'. Sometimes simplicity is the best approach. It is the most open and personal song on the album with Cave declaring 'I wanted to be your superman but I turned out such a jerk'. The influence of Warren Ellis on 'Let The Bells Ring' adds a much needed guitar loop to Cave's words, as he seems to strain as every word. It is another upbeat dirge (oxymoron?). As the song gains pace and the music gels, Cave also seems to find new energy. Abattoir Blues ends as it starts with another chaotic mass of instruments and gospel choir. 'Fable Of The Brown Ape' wouldn't sound out of place on Murder Ballads - an explosive, musically fascinating (minimalist one minute, everything the next!) tale of a farmer's battle with a snake. Unlike most songs on Murder Ballads, it is very short.
The Lyre Of Orpheus plays out like part of Dante's The Divine Comedy. Songs about Greek mythology are always best with a touch of artistic license - 'This lyre lark is for the birds, said Orpheus, it's enough to send you bats. Let's stay down here, Eurydice, dear and we'll have a bunch of screaming brats' is a great line. Not sure about the 'o mamma' stuff though...
Another huge surprise, simply due to the feel of the song, is 'Breathless'. At three minutes long, it is a revelation. Parts of it sounds like Cave has bought a collection of school recorders to the studio, handed them out under protests of 'I can't play this' and retorts of 'that doesn't matter, just play anything when I stop', and the rest is history. It adds that element of individuality that makes Nick Cave something special (of course, it may not have been his idea at all).
Continuing the positive feel is another great love song 'Babe, You Turn Me On'. It is light and easy (yes, really) with Cave and piano blending like the match made in heaven they are. He never shys away from the graphic - 'I put one hand on your round ripe heart and the other down your panties' is sung with no hint of sleaze or childlike sniggers. The line to close 'Like an idea, like an atom bomb' is accompanied by a ludicrous explosion noise, again proving Cave's limitless skill to make the ridiculous sound okay.
'Easy Money' is a brilliant piano driven attempt at anti-capitalism - 'Money, man, it's a bitch. The poor, they spoil it for the rich'. Cave again delivers a song so well crafted and intensely personal that it puts everyone else to shame - 'pour it down the open drain, pour it all through my veins' referring to Cave's past 'problems'. Proof that the drugs most certainly do not work. At times, the premise that a musician is singing about how straight forward and uncomplicated life is when it comes to massing a fortune, is hard to stomach. It is more of that delicious dark-humoured irony again.
Like with all great things, there comes a moment of weakness. Proving again that this is a mixed bag and not two defined albums in one, 'Supernatural' is a weak point. The chorus is bordering on annoying and the song appears to be a single concept - 'oh baby don't you go supernatural on me'. It becomes very simplified - 'You're my north, my south, my east. my west. You are the girl that I love best'. Cave is much much better than this. What is infectious though is the change of pace compared with the soft ballad-esque direction of the tracks surrounding it.
In marked contrast to the previous song 'Spell' is purely sublime. Cave continues to paint pictures in the mind with his words. The music is suitably subtle, drifting into interesting interludes between Cave's overly depressing vocals. It is a perfect example of how effortless he can make music work. Most would dismiss it as self-indulgence and gloom-mongering. As an extension of this, 'Carry Me' charts familiar waters but gets things gospel again. The interplay between Cave and his sirens is majestic.
If anything, the second half of the second half is not as strong as the rest but the final track 'O Children' more than makes up for it. With more great piano and Cave back in 'normal' commanding baritone, the song is just under seven minutes of perfection. This is one of those tracks that takes a few listens to work out - 'we have the answer to all your fears. It's short, it's simple, it's crystal clear. It's round about, it's somewhere here, lost amongst our winnings'. From here, it just gets better and better and better...
It is a rare thing to find a musician doing his own thing and doing it well. Cave delivers some of his best lyrics to date. The use of the female backing singers as contrast to his baritone is a work of sheer genius. Abattoir Blues / The Lyre Of Orpheus could have been two distinct albums but you could jumble the tracks up and reorder them into two albums and they would both sound great. So it is an enigma (like Cave himself) as to why there should be a separation between the two recordings. Everything about the seventeen songs is deliberate and necessary with very few exceptions. This is a musician (and his ever faithful Band) at the top of his (and it's) game.
-- The original review was first published on the Underwurld Music website in 2004
(c) Underwurld Music 2004-2008
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