Push The Sky Away Tour: Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds LIVE
NICK CAVE LIVE: My review of Nick Cave and The Bad Seeds, Live – Los Angeles. February 21, 2013.
Everything was decadent tonight, even the paintings on the wall of the Fonda Theater on Hollywood Boulevard, not far from where I live, and where Nick Cave and The Bad Seed played live. His voice was, his body like a vampire snake, while mine danced like never before, just following the rhythm of his stories, and pretending no one rubbed against me, screaming, jumping, sweaty. I don’t like crowds. There’s no buffer, I’m clean and more vulnerable than ever. So I danced alone like smoke out of thin air on a Los Angeles morning, when you don’t know if cold it’s allowed. And yet it’s February.
Everything was decadent tonight. Nick Cave was, in his silk black shirt and in familiar yet mysterious handsomeness. Warren Ellis’ long beard was decadent too.
Everything was decadent and gorgeously wild. Just like London in the 1980s.Music makes you feel good just like drugs do. It’s a rush. Endorphins release. It washes over you. Not as intense, and it does not last that long yet it recreates the cotton world for a little while, the world where pain does not exist and orgasmic pleasure takes over. It is a world where you feel just fine, covered by a warm blanket that takes the unwanted away. Now, I don’t know if it is because Nick Cave knows what it feels like – the desperate need for the buffer. Nonetheless, he surely knows how to give you a fix of it, for two hours or so.
PART 1: Push The Sky Away
The stage is crowded (a little too much for me); Nick and The Bad Seeds are accompanied by the Silver Lake Children Conservatory, arch quartet and back singers for the first live performance of their latest work, Push the Sky Away. It sounds beautiful, especially the unexpected explosion of sound, light, drums, and (finally) of Nick’s energy in the song Jubilee Street yet there is something missing to my starving ears. I have never seen Nick Cave live before, so I cannot settle for this, although loving the new album. Push The Sky Away is a masterpiece yet I want the legend.
PART 2: Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds
You know that feeling when you go to a party and you start to have fun only when it is about to end? Not that I really like parties, but that’s the familiar feeling I could grasp, to describe the intimate night at the Fonda. And I usually start to enjoy things when they are about to end anyway, or when few special people remain, and the crowd I do not care about finally leaves. I am talking about that special moment when the few good old friends start to clean up the dirt. Do you feel what I’m feeling?
Well, Nick thanks the kids, then the back singers, and then the extraordinary arch quartet.
That’s when magic happens.
He transforms, the stage does. And I do, too.
The real Nick Cave starts opening the closet of a past we are all waiting for: Jack the Ripper, The Mercy Seat, Stagger Lee, Love Letter…Now I can see the genius in his possessed yet deep and melancholic eyes. He becomes dramatic and theatrical; he talks love and death, the dark Cohen, the goth Cash, whores and wives, sex and God. He changes themes just like a chameleon changes in color. He is a black chameleon; he tells his stories with such an immediate poetry that I feel humbled. I hypnotized, wave my body, slowly, not really dancing. He is the viper. He is a lost soul. And yet an angel, too. It resonates. He writes love letters and stands in the rain, waiting for his lover to come back. He screams at you and waves his body like a serpent because he knows you want to drink his words, like ink from his jet-black hair. The bad seeds are an extension of his genius; they explode and implode together, and together they exhaust, while sharing the pleasure and the energy with the audience.
They knew we were waiting for this moment, the private party, just us and the old stories we are never to tired to hear.
I told myself a story tonight. I was out of time, and I was dancing in East London, on a very dangerous street. It did not rain.
I danced a few inches from Nick Cave covered in sweat. I crawled like a snake and let the red of my hair become one with the clean sound of his ageless voice, when every unwanted feeling was finally gone.
When I went home, I waited in the car a little while.
I could feel the Nick Cave experience on my skin.
Everything was decadent tonight, just like London, in the 1980s.