Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds – Wild God

Art Rock | Ambient | Gospel

79%

 

The worst part about losing someone is that very first moment; the second worst part is every moment that follows. That initial realisation, that stab to your gut that saps your breath away, the torrent of pain, anger and fear that rushes to fill your entire being so fast that it feels as you may burst from the grief. That first overwhelming moment of loss is easy to understand. Yet grief beyond that point is never again so predictable. Once the Pandora’s Box has been opened, all the darkness that was unleashed can manifest in a myriad of different ways, often striking at the most unexpected times. You may find yourself weeping at a sunset at the thought of someone you love never getting to see one again, or having a rough day and becoming inexplicably angry at someone you lost for not being there to lean on, or simply feeling empty thanks to the void left by their absence. Grief lurks beneath the surface waiting to lash out, like an old wound that plays up when the weather turns. 

Much of Nick Cave’s life and music has been informed by grief these last few years in the wake of the loss of two of his sons. His recent records have been unflinching snapshots of the various twisting forms his grief has taken. Skeleton Key had an almost suffocating darkness to it. A black storm cloud choking out the sun, occasionally rumbling with thunderous pain and anger. The ambient and ethereal Ghosteen however hovered somewhere between emptiness and peace. Loss takes another form yet again on Wild God, as Nick Cave fuses the sparse elegance of Ghosteen with the cathartic gospel sound of Abattoir Blues. Opulent synths and choral arrangements that mimic an entire orchestra, ever present expressive bass lines acting as a subtle driving force. The record takes the anguish surrounding what has been lost and uses it to find a new appreciation for what remains. The result is an album which, at its best, feels celestial and celebratory, like a rocket carving a path through the heavens. 

The slow Arcade Fire-esque build of opening track ‘Song of the Lake’ feels more like the triumphant finale of an album than the sorrowful opening of one, reminding me a little of the climax of ‘O Children’. The title track and ‘Conversion’ meanwhile both have quiet atmospheric openings which dramatically burst into life by the mid point. The introspective musings of ‘Wild God’ are shattered at the call of “bring your spirit down” as a grand swell kicks in like the crash of a wave against crumbling cliffs, while the brooding hum of ‘Conversion’ rapidly evolves into an energising fusion of gospel and post punk reminiscent of Belwood favourites Algiers. Choral closing track ‘As The Waters Cover The Sea’ has a hauntingly hymnal quality to it, and it’s here that the album best delivers on its themes of the divine and the spiritual awakening of finding joy and beauty again.

Much of the album’s majesty however is confined to these grander moments. There are exceptions; the meditative piano and mournful backing vocals on ‘Joy’ provide a sparse backdrop that allows the album’s most forthright lyricism to take centre stage. Opening with a moment of dread (“I woke up this morning with the blues all around my head, I felt like someone in my family was dead“) and ultimately finding some form of peace from a spirit that shares: “We’ve all had too much sorrow, now is the time for joy“. Sadly for the most part the rest of the album’s words are rarely this arresting. ‘Cinnamon Horses’ and ‘Long Dark Night’ are both home to overly repetitive refrains that soon outstay their welcome.

By far the album’s most restraining factor is how empty and still all the long quiet stretches are when contrasted alongside the grander moments. By providing brief snippets of the Bad Seeds at their most electrifying and cathartic, the rest of the record can feel like a dull empty haze interrupted by fleeting moments of lucidity. While Wild God reaches for transcendent, it comes across as more transitional. A step towards brighter days, but still carrying the burden of grief. It’s an album which sees Nick Cave open his heart to the idea of basking in joy and beauty again, but is as yet still in search of it.