Aural Fixations
NICK CAVE & THE BAD SEEDS
No More Shall We Part
(Mute/Reprise)
When Nick Cave first appeared in the 80s as the howling, spitting frontman for Australian Gothic blues pounders the Birthday Party, he immediately attracted a loyal audience of freaks and geeks. Drawn from the ranks of depression-minded rockers who hated the mainstream of the New Wave and longed for something more visceral and black-clad hedonists who defined the nascent Goth scene, Cave's fans latched onto his enthusiastic displays of darker emotions, and loved the ragingly ugly music that supported them. When he left the Party to form the Bad Seeds in the mid-80s, his audience followed him, faithfully standing by as his talent grew and his sound altered accordingly, disregarding dissonance and embracing lush melody. The Nick Cave of 2001 bears scant resemblance to the Cave of 1986, or even 1996, and many fans grumble that he's gone mainstream, becoming that which he used to rebel against. Too bad, for in dismissing his latest album No More Shall We Part, they're missing some of the best music of his career.
As Cave's singing and songwriting skills developed over the years his approach to his music changed, and this album finds him at perhaps the peak of his skills. No longer indulging in blues-flavored grinds or violent tales of emotional excess and its consequences, Cave favors austere arrangements that highlight his melodic piano and suit his tales of small moments and melancholy reminiscences. Cave is joined by a full complement of Bad Seeds, but, as with his last album The Boatman's Call, they come and go in the arrangements as dictated by the song. If there's no need for Blixa Bargeld's guitar or Conway Savage's organ, they aren't present. Dirty Three cog Warren Ellis is the featured instrumentalist here, and his mournful violin suits Cave's newly upper register vocals perfectly. The band is also augmented on several tunes by the surprising addition of folk singers Kate and Anna McGarrigle, whose lonely harmonies add just the right spice to Cave's recipes. Though the sound is much fuller than on the sparse Call, if anything the album is airier and more open. Cave seems to have fully abandoned the purposeful claustrophobia that was his signature sound for so long, with the spotlight more on the tunes than ever before.
Fortunately, the songs stand up to the scrutiny. While Cave's writing pendulum has once again swung from personal contemplation to first-person character studies, he trains such a microscopic lens on his protagonists that each narrative sounds as if it comes straight from his soul. There's a sense of bereavement to the lyrics, even though they never address loss in specific terms. It's never revealed why the two lovers stare sorrowfully out the window in the opener "As I Sat Sadly By Her Side," nor is it clear why "The Sorrowful Wife" finds herself in such an emotional state, but it's easy to read into these songs a sense that perhaps a child has been lost. It's more explicit, though scarcely more detailed, in "Fifteen Feet of Pure White Snow" and "Darker With the Day"—whether the songs are about the death of a child, a spouse or a sense of faith, the overwhelming loss is palpable. Religious and spiritual imagery, a staple of Cave's writing for several years now, makes its presence strongly felt as well. "Oh My Lord" and "Hallelujah" find emotional desperation in supposedly comforting notions, while "God Is in the House" ("Any day now He'll come out") pokes unusually gentle fun at small-town fundamentalism and its effect on daily life.
No More Shall We Part continues the evolution of one of modern rock's most fascinating figures. Cave's writing and performing skills have grown immensely since the beginning, and he's realized the value of emotions besides anger and disgust. His records have become more and more sophisticated as a result, with this album being perhaps the pinnacle of his lush approach. While the sound has mellowed, though, the emotional intensity remains high and the quality keeps pace. Once longtime fans get past the shock of hearing Cave croon with compassion and quiet dignity, they'll find an artist hitting his peak and, as he has so many times, challenging himself to surpass it next time. Michael Toland
For fans of: Leonard Cohen, Scott Walker, 70s Tom Waits
