Staff Blog
Nick Cave and the Bad Seeds, Oct. 7, Electric Factory
[Full disclosure: This critics firmly believes that Nick Cave is the One True God.]
About four notes into the third song — an amazing rendition of “Tupelo” — of Nick Cave’s set last night, the guy standing next to me on the venue’s floor (packed shoulder-to-shoulder on a Tuesday night) turned to his date and said “he’s barely into the third song and we’ve already gotten our money’s worth.”
That pretty much summed up the evening.
Cave, who hasn’t graced Philly with his presence since an ill-advised appearance at the Lallapalozza festival (The words “outdoors” and “early afternoon” are not the first that spring to mind when thinking of Nick) back in 1994, led the six members of the Bad Seeds through a soul-searing collection of older (”Red Right Hand,” “Papa Won’t Leave You, Henry”) and new (”Dig Lazarus, Dig,” “We Call upon the Author to Explain”) songs that left the entire audience feeling as if they’d collectively witnessed some sort of sonic miracle. It was as if the red right hand of God had descended upon the Electric Factory. So I bought a T-shirt.
Yep, this show was awesome. Crazy loud too. In addition to the songs Rodney cited, “Moonland,” “The Lyre of Orpheus” and “Stagger Lee” were also mind-blowingly great.
As much as I hate to use the word “ditto,” I can’t help it. Sue me. The blog post and the one respondent so far, plus the memory of the show, all have me exhausted for words to describe it. It will go down as one of the six or seven most memorable concerts of my life. This is a band that was formed in 1983, mind you. They are now at the top of their game. Nick Cave was like a cross between Jim Morrison and Iggy Pop, except that he kept his clothes on and stayed sober throughout. The band (a glorious rock orchestra, more like it), was positively brilliant. Two drummers creating thunderous polyrhythms behind a by-turns deftly subtle and manic frontline of guitars and keys, all finely tuned to the ebbs and crushing waves of Nick Cave’s theatric yet deeply literary onslaught. One felt blessed to be in the presence of this performance. Oh, what a night.
And “Deanna” was a hell of a singalong.
I didn’t have my real camera with me Tuesday night – I’ve been on a concert-photography hiatus – but I did snap a few shots with my iPhone:
I guess we were all on the same wavelength. I turned to my friend and said, “he is only three songs in and he has already earned his money.” I feel blessed to have been there. It was my first Nick Cave show and I would travel far and wide to see him again. Apparently he and the Bad Seeds give it their all each time out, and the level and intensity of performance we were so fortunate to experience is the standard. (I know this because I have been thinking about the show all week and obsessively reading and watching everything I can find on the internet related to Nick Cave.) I got to go backstage but was rendered stupid, deer in headlights-like, in his presence and didn’t get the buddy-buddy photo I thought I wanted. I did get to thank him, though. Wow.
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds = amazing.
If you like them, listen to the rest of the Anti- artists on their sampler. It’s great.
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