Nick Cave and the Bad Seeds - No More Shall We Part
(Mute)
As a general rule I try to maintain a critical objectivity about musicians I appreciate. I
cannot stand blinkered fanboys whose hero worship creates a willful blindness in which
no note is misplaced. When it comes to Nick Cave's work, most of the time I fail.
However, the release of No More Shall We Part, an uneven album with six good
to outstanding songs and six mediocre to dull ones, is forcing me to realize that not all
that Nick has touched is as sweet upon the ears. True, Your Funeral... My Trial,
Henry's Dream, and Let Love In have not a bad song between them, but
the weak spots on From Her to Eternity, Tender Prey, and
Murder Ballads (despite its delicious subject matter) make up for those.
The Bad Seeds on this record have swollen to a mighty ten, including new additions
Warren Ellis, violinist for the Dirty Three (he has actually played on the prior two Bad
Seeds records, but has only recently been an official Bad Seed), who gets a songwriting
co-credit on two tracks, and a couple of sweet-throated backup singers by the lovely
names of Kate and Anna McGarrigle (say it out loud, its really fun). However, rather
than sounding like a huge band, the Bad Seeds are in a restrained and subtle mode, so
that the instrumentation is never overpowering, but surges and recedes to fit the
songs. One thing that is notable about this group of musicians is the skill at which they
play precisely to the mood of the song, and they just keep getting better at it.
A number of the tunes on this record continue in the theme and tone established on the
last record, The Boatman's Call, that examines love as a religious experience,
where love songs are presented as devotionals and psalms. "Hallelujah," "No More
Shall We Part," and "The Sorrowful Wife" all fit into this category. The subject matter of
these songs, marriage and emotional commitment, fidelity and salvation through love,
combined with the slower, contemplative tempos, suggest that this is a new era for the
Bad Seeds, that they are maybe a little less "Bad." On a spoken word record released a
while back, Cave spoke of the fear he had in his youth of becoming like his father, how it
had given way to resignation to the inevitable. Now it is time for the fans to make a
similar realization, that the skinny, drug-addled howler is becoming a middle-aged,
skinny, drug-addled crooner.
This is not always a bad thing. In fact, it has resulted in an easy half dozen strong
songs. Standout tunes include "As I Sat Sadly by Her Side" a richly textured piece,
which benefits from the album's muted, hazy production. The sparse piano and bass
blend into the guitar which is blurred into fuzzy background, all of which highlight Cave's
reflective vocals and Ellis' sweet violin. "No More Shall We Part" and "Love Letter"
(one of Cave's all time best songs) are the most successful tunes on the album, both
are slow, tender, and unapologetic love songs. Their sparse instrumentation, centered
around Cave's piano--with the sparest of bass and percussion and accents of
violin--adds to the powerful emotional nakedness.
"Hallelujah" features Nick in growling mode, a welcome respite from all of the somber
and quite songs which comprised The Boatman's Call and the advance tracks
being played from this record. Though it's not a bad song, it lacks the passion and fury of
past outings when Cave has really let it loose. He never does reach maddening heights
on this record, but the tone is at least not as constant and even as The Boatman's
Call, making this album less tedious. "Fifteen Feet of Pure White Snow" and "Oh
My Lord" likewise gets a little raucous, but not enough to really cause any trouble. Only
"The Sorrowful Wife" really breaks open, with Cave belting out in a drunken, gospel
fashion, accompanied by wild bursts of guitar squall (its nice to see he's still got it in
him).
Then there are songs like "Sweetheart Come," "We Came Along this Road," and "Gates
to the Garden." Slow, lumbering pieces, with no apparent direction nor engrossing
melody or emotional content. They sound like attempts at a new maturity, but are forced
rather than natural. Unlike "Love Letter" and "No More Shall We Part," which flow forth
effortlessly, these songs wander about in circles. Unfortunately they are all clumped at
the end of the album, making it grind to a halt and seem nearly endless (and it is pretty
long, 12 songs in 67 minutes, many of which, it goes without saying, go on too long).
It's hard to believe that this Nick Cave is the same one who fronted the Birthday Party,
one of the most sonically turbulent, vocally aggressive and visceral bands of all time. It's
even difficult to find the connection between this Nick Cave and the one who made a
name for himself by appropriating American blues, country, and rock and dragging them
back down into the darkness from whence they were born. Some of the same musical
influences can be felt, but gone are the tales of murderers and lovers and lovers who
murder each other (though one song does start off with "I left by the back door with my
wife's lover's smoking gun"), gone is the fiery extolling of sinners with the language
and fervor of a preacher. Nick Cave has grown up and slowed down, which is inevitable
when one considers he had been cranking it up since the late 70s. However, he has not
yet fully grown into his new self. No More Shall We Part is a better record than
The Boatman's Call, but not quite up to his old standards. There are enough
impressive songs here to demonstrate that he is well on his way, though. Lets hope he
hits it next time around.
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