13. Nick Cave & the Bad SeedsThe Boatman’s Call
I would say that Nick Cave is the greatest artist of my generation. I saw The Birthday Party about ten times and they only lasted a few years. I was lucky. I went to see them opening for Bauhaus, by accident. They blew Bauhaus away. I was like, "What the fuck is this?" There was this man in a vicar’s dog collar, slapping the front row with a bible and a bass player wearing an Australian corked hat. They were fucked – they were more fucked than Iggy and I had given up looking for people more fucked than Iggy.
I think The Birthday Party were the only band where Nick Cave was matched by other characters as big as he was. The Bad Seeds are a great band but Tracy Pew and Rowland Howard matched Nick Cave, which takes some doing. I was so lucky to have seen that band. I followed them around and saw them degenerate due to heroin abuse.
Then, I watched Cave’s transition into The Bad Seeds and I still thought he was a fascinating human being. I could have put The Birthday Party’s second album, Prayers On Fire, on this list, but it is pretty unlistenable for most people. I chose The Boatman’s Call because it was the first time he allowed himself to get really vulnerable through his love songs. I think it is a masterpiece and shows the breadth of his talent. There are five or six love songs on that record that are as good as Leonard Cohen’s. It is a remarkable record.
I have met him a number of times. Once, I pretended to be a journalist and interviewed him. He was probably still strung out on heroin and we nearly got into a fight. He threatened me and I didn’t back down. A few weeks later, he found out who I was and then slagged off James in the NME. It didn’t make me love him any less. It was just who he was at the time. I think he is still very damaged and hurt from his dealings with the press. He’s been through the Amy Winehouse/Pete Doherty thing, where the press are sitting like vultures, waiting for him to die. I can imagine that he has coloured his view of journalism.
I had a dream about Nick Cave on the night I got married, in which he told me his secret, magical voodoo name. I have never had the opportunity to tell him what his secret, magical voodoo name is, but I hope to one day. I guess that Nick Cave may hate James, but I don’t care. I recognise his genius and I love him and wish him well.
