Nick Cave’s solo concert was an absolute treat, with stark and vulnerable renditions of songs from his stellar, decades-spanning career.
I sadly missed out on the last time Nick Cave and the Bad Seeds played Melbourne, deciding that getting to Hanging Rock and back again would be too much of a logistical nightmare. There was no way I was going to miss out on his solo tour with Colin Greenwood, even if it was taking place in the dull soulless setting of the Melbourne Convention and Exhibition Centre.
I have to say that Plenary Theatre is one of the unloveliest live venues I’ve ever been to, with oppressive dark wood wall panelling, seats in various shades of puke green, and garish corridors that reminded me and my friend of the red bathroom in The Shining. Even Nick himself commented on the unpalatable colour palette of the seats and the theatre’s general corporate awfulness.
Of course none of that mattered once the lights went out and that distinctive lanky figure with the trademark slick of black hair appeared onstage. Compared to a Bad Seeds gig, this was a much more subdued and solemn affair, with little of the dramatic and theatrical showmanship Nick Cave is famous for. But even seated permanently behind the piano, he remains a spellbinding presence and a masterful storyteller, generating a powerful atmosphere in what otherwise would have been a lacklustre setting.
The minimalist piano was quietly complemented by a bass guitar from Colin Greenwood. Prior to the show, I genuinely had no idea what sort of musical contribution he was going to make; I knew him as the ‘other Greenwood’ in Radiohead but I had no clue which instrument he actually played. I don’t think I’ve experienced a combo of piano and bass in a concert before.
The mournful, elegiac Girl in Amber set the tone for the evening, which saw Nick work through a selection of more piano-friendly songs from his extensive back catalogue; the intent, as he explained at the beginning of the show, was to pare them down to their very essence. These still included the perennial live favourites like The Ship Song, Love Letter, The Weeping Song, God Is in the House, Into My Arms, and of course The Mercy Seat which never ceases to be a pinnacle of every Nick Cave concert I’ve ever been to. It always hits me like a ton of bricks, whether it’s played with full-band fury or slowed down on the piano.
Papa Won’t Leave You, Henry was a ferocious throwback to the fire-and-brimstone Nick Cave of old. He introduced it as a lullaby he wrote for his infant son while living in São Paulo, remarking that it’s just as well that his baby boy had no clue about the song’s dark and violent lyrics. Nick’s children were also an inspiration for another highlight of the night, a simplified rendition of O Children that sounded even more poignant and emotionally resonant for it.
It was interesting to reflect on the difference between this older, more affable version of Nick Cave and his younger, thornier self from twenty years ago who often wouldn’t say a single word to the crowd. That guy would never have asked for the audience participation during Balcony Man, inviting, you guessed it, people seated in the balcony to cheer and holler every time he mentioned the words ‘balcony man’. Nick Cave still being Nick Cave, he also commanded the floor people to shut the **** up in the dry humorous fashion that we love.
The surprises and deep cuts included Euthanasia, a song disliked by the rest of the band that never made it on an album, unfairly so in Nick’s opinion. After the wonderfully eerie Push the Sky Away closed the main set, Cave and Greenwood came back for an extensive encore which included Shivers, a song I never knew was written by the Australian songwriter Roland S. Howard. Another surprise was Palaces of Montezuma, from Cave’s short-lived Grinderman side project, reinvented as an elegant piano ballad. The show ended with a tribute to the Melbourne band The Seekers, with a cover of The Carnival is Over.
I very much look forward to the full Bad Seeds tour promised by Nick for the next year in support of their upcoming eighteenth (!) album, but a stripped down solo show like this, with nothing but the essence and the core left and nowhere for a performer to hide, will always be very special.
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