It is a rather impressive view to see The O2 Arena in London full to the rafters on any occasion. Tonight may be even more impressive as, with it being only the first of two shows, Nick Cave and his Bad Seeds make their return to London. In the middle of his Wild Gods tour, Cave is showcasing a lot of “new” music alongside some classics.
Nick Cave And The Bad Seeds
The O2, London – 8 November 2024
Photography: Eric Duvet
Words: Kahmel Farahani
As the lights go down and the sizeable band takes the stage, including a four-strong choir behind the drums, the screens behind the band light up with simple and stark neon colours and start spelling out the lyrics to Frogs.
From the new album, it’s the ideal hazy, dreamlike song to begin the set.
As Cave strolls to centre stage and declaims the Cane and Abel-like lyrics in that strong, enchanting voice, it is impossible to ignore. “Take that gun out of your hand, in the Sunday rain.”
The title track, Wild God, just builds and builds, with Cave vaulting up from the piano and rousing the front-row crowds. Holding out hands and shouting “Bring Your Spirit Down,” it is like watching the most forcefully exciting television evangelist work his flock into a frenzy.
“Thank you very much – fucking London.” Thus exclaims a jubilant Nick Cave to a delighted and totally sold-out The O2. “It’s very good to be back in London, which is my town.”
“This song I wrote 22 years ago when I was in Brighton. It’s an unforgiving, nasty little song about the world we were creating for our children. This song always manages to find its theme. You will probably know it. I mean, you’ve all seen the fucking Harry Potter Film,” says Cave with a laugh.
O Children is one of his greatest and most powerful songs, treading that superb line between the gothic poet and the gospel choir, lifting the whole crowd off of its feet.
Jubilee Street builds to a frantic ending with Cave throwing the microphone to the ground several times and bashing the piano like a man possessed.
“Does anyone have another microphone?” Cave asks with a smile after the song, “I think somebody broke this one.”
There is little to nothing in the way of stage show or props. Indeed, it is the energy of Cave and his band that draws the eye, especially the trance-like performance of long-time collaborator Warren Ellis as he stands on top of his chair and flails and kicks with violin in hand.
Cave’s music has a seriousness that is hard to penetrate, especially during the mone minimalist musical accompaniments. Songs like Carnage are more Bertolt Brecht and John Cage than Little Richard. It’s the uncompromising beat poet, spitting and punctuating the air with certain phrases and words with the music used to hammer the meaning home.
Much like those poets, one has to be in the right mood, and Cave certainly does not meet you halfway. Sitting alone at the grand piano for a solo rendition of I Need You, Cave ends the song almost in tears.
It’s the opposite of frivolous, but it really does require a certain mindset, or at least a herculean effort to keep an open mind for the uninitiated. It is closer to spoken word balladry than rock ‘n’ roll.
It brings Cave himself close to tears and brings a total hushed silence to The O2.
That said, the more hardcore fans in attendance clearly relish the raw emotions on display, none more so than the fans in the first five rows who frequently have Cave himself leaning into them, grabbing hands and sharing jokes and scarves.
Long Dark Night had the touching darkness of the best fairy tales, and the delicate piano of Cinnamon Horses is another dreamy number.
“This song is called Tupelo, and it’s about the day that Elvis was born,” says Cave, introducing the song. All primal drums, percussion and choir, it is stark and mean.
Cave works up such a sweat that he asks to borrow a handkerchief from the audience, who duly obliges. “I’ll give it back, I promise,” says a grinning Cave. His connection to his crowd is remarkable.
Bright Horses is another starkly beautiful and cinematic song, with additional vocals from Warren Ellis.
“This song is a blues song, isn’t it, Warren?” Cave asks his bandmates. “It’s called Joy.” These are not what one might call singalong or feel-good songs, but it is nothing if not arresting to watch and listen to.
The atmosphere does certainly pick up with the classic Red Right Hand. Its stalking, evil blues sound like Cave has gone down to the proverbial crossroads himself to speak to the ghost of Robert Johnson. Followed by another old-school song, The Mercy Seat, it is a great way to lift the crowd up again.
The best may have been saved for last, though, with the ferocious industrial-flavoured White Elephant. It is a stomping, thunderous song which sees Cave declaiming “I’ll shoot you in the fucking face” multiple times to a delighted crowd. This song takes a turn in the second half and becomes the world’s most uplifting gospel anthem.
As the choir singers walk down to join Cave on the main stage, it is like the whole O2 Arena has been transformed into a religious revival meeting. In an odd way, it has.
An encore begins with O Wow O Wow before the depressing and personal Papa Won’t Leave You, Henry and The Weeping Song. A final song sees Cave alone on the piano to sing Into My Arms.
It is a stark, beautiful and fitting ending to a gig full of raw emotions.
