Tuesday, March 18, 2008

NICK CAVE AND THE BAD SEEDS – THE BOATMAN’S CALL (MUTE)


NICK CAVE AND THE BAD SEEDS – THE BOATMAN’S CALL (MUTE)

This is a record that has got me through a couple of break ups. Within its resounding bleak sound there is a beauty and optimism that is truly mature and very reassuring which ultimately points to a better way of existing.

There is no escaping that this is a glum album. For me this is where Cave steps most into Leonard Cohen type territory. It is all very dry and reflective as the lyrical content is thick with an abundance of reminisce and bleak imagery. With so much occurring beneath the surface this is not a record for the happy.

It opens with “Into My Arms”, a measured ode to a loved one that runs the risk of over share. From the off it is stirring stuff, emotionally open but stopping short of sickly gestures and results. Crashing through “Lime Tree Arbour” maintains the flow serving up the glorious description of a perfect time and a perfect place.

From a personal perspective this is the Bad Seeds record that carries a couple of my favourite moments from their career. In “Brompton Oratory” Cave delivers what for me is the greatest moment of his career. The stunned statement being declared and cherished streams out as the warmest church organs pads proceedings that is so spiritually wholesome and fulfilling it is almost absurd. As the most basic of drum machine beats carries the song it is truly the most humbling of songs and the pinnacle of music. Of course the popping my cherry just around the corner from Brompton doesn’t harm in the emotive stakes.

Secondly with “Far From Me” Cave truly manages to capture in words how painfully blasé former partners can be when attempting to remain friends. With the line “it’s good to know you’re doing so well but really can’t you find somebody else that you can ring and tell” reflects one of the most articulate expressions of emotive pain anywhere to be found in music. As a person that cuts ties (cuts people dead) after rejection it is a sentiment I know but have never been able to express so succinctly or charismatically with such dignity. And that line the pain goes away. Yeah, right.

It is with “People Ain’t No Good” he further captures the human spirit with all its frailties and imperfections and enough ammunition to never speak to another person ever again. Once more nailing his subject on the head he captures revolting images of selfishness before inserting such imagery as “we’d buy the Sunday newspapers and never read a single word.” It helps both ways.

“West Country Girl” is a song that could have appeared on Murder Ballads as there is some kind of manslaughter occurring herein. My explicit of ladies from the West Country is not a million miles from this blistering excursion, of the pain that gets encountered in the distinct ability of such a person to change their mind, to swing their mood and turn so cold. It must be something to do with the rural climate and boredom derived from having nothing to do.

That’s not to say that this record is all bleak and negative. The declaration that “There Is A Kingdom” verges on celebratory as the theme to a person that equally might have found a new favourite pub as he did heaven (maybe on earth). Likewise with “(Are You) The One I’ve Been Waiting For” almost feels rhetorical in its guided joy and pointless questioning. A warm fuzzy sensation soon arrives as some kind of stunted happiness abounds.

By the time the record reaches “Black Hair” (of you know who) things are beginning to sound distinctly like Tindersticks, a gesture and compliment that is usually batted in the opposite direction. The morose tone of proceedings overwhelms and the theme for the record remains continued.

It is with “Idiot Prayer” that I found myself nearing tears on the tube at Christmas one year. It is a song of burst optimism, of discouragement found in reality that comes with chops to match. It begins “you’ve taken me down my friend” but moves towards the rectification of a person picking themselves up and brushing things off. “An idiot prayer of empty words” is the line that gets me every time.

Then comes “Far From Me”.

Just to ruin perfection the record closes on “Green Eyes” which is a silly workout of dual incoherence in duel. Whoops.

Polly has a lot to answer for.

Thesaurus moment: liebe.

Nick Cave And The Bad Seeds
Mute

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