Ending a quick US jaunt in service of "Grinderman 2", Nick Cave brought Grinderman to LA. Essentially a scaled down Bad Seeds tuned quartet-style to the key of filthy rock'n'roll.
Grinderman is Cave, Warren Ellis on violin and guitar, and the rhythm section of Martin Casey & Jim Sclavunos.
The enigmatic Armen Ra opened the evening with his theremin, doing a proper job of setting an unsettling tone for the proceedings.
Warren Ellis in full flight...
Grinderman hit the stage promptly, and unleashed their trademark noise, quickly adjusting to the eccentricities of the house sound system, then pushing it to overload levels.
To watch these guys in any of their configurations is always a joy, and the stripped down setting worked perfectly in a smaller venue. It's interesting to note that a performer of Cave's caliber, that controls the room completely, is something of an endangered species these days...
The finest example of said control came towards the close of their set, during the frustration anthem 'No Pussy Blues', from their first album.
Cave leered through the verses, setting up the story of the man who would do anything for his dearest, but not in turn receive the one thing he was looking for... As the band lurched into the bridge, he held up his hands and clapped out a simple beat, then repeated it. The crowd took it up, then Cave dropped out the band and the whole room echoed with only clapping...
The band blitzed into the chorus, and the house levitated...Such a simple trick proved so brutally effective, and a welcome antidote to eons of hapless singalongs... A reminder, once again, that no matter the configuration, their are few bands working at this level...
It's the return of Nick Cave to the printed page. Mr. Cave has been on quite a roll lately, moving through soundtrack work with Mick Harvey, putting together the Grinderman side project, and of course, leading the Bad Seeds. Always wondered if he'd follow up his 1989 novel, "And The Ass Saw The Angel", and finally that question can be answered.
"The Death of Bunny Munro" is his newest novel, looking to be out this fall, courtesy of the intrepid folks at Canongate, (a mating of author and publishing house that seems a rare perfect fit).
If you absolutely can't wait, Canongate has uploaded some videos to their YouTube page, giving you the added benefit of the author doing justice to his creation.
Nick Cave in any of his guises always makes for a fascinating trip, so buckle your seatbelts, here comes the bunny!
Akkk, it’s already February, and I still haven’t cleaned up last year…Live shows started out on the down, having to miss Coachella for the first time in five years, but after a quiet summer (dodging fires), I made up for it with a vengeance in the fall… In order, the best shows I saw last year:
#3) RADIOHEAD, Santa Barbara County Bowl, August Finishing off a two stage US tour at the smallest venue right in my backyard, what’s to complain about? Most years this would have been THE show, hands down, and it speaks to the others that it wasn’t. Tour sharpened, and obviously smelling the finish line, Yorke & co. rocked with a vengeance, surpassing their previous two night stand here years ago…fun trivia, NPR offers a podcast of this show free, so hear for yourself…
#2) NICK CAVE & BAD SEEDS, Hollywood Bowl, September Crisp fall night at the granddaddy of them all with a bill that didn’t stint on value for the dollar: opening w/Cat Power followed by Spiritualized, making way for the big man himself…the Bad Seeds were razor sharp, and the setlist spanned his whole career…highlights included a vicious reading of ‘The Mercy Seat” from ‘Tender Prey’. But the spotlight was on the man himself…when the book is written on stage presence, he will have his own little chapter, all to himself. Absolutely galvanizing…by the second song I just started laughing, it was so ridiculous. The vision that came to mind was not music, but Samuel L. Jackson, in the scene near the end of 'Pulp Fiction' where he reclaims his wallet from Tim Roth's character...("it's the one that says bad ass m@#$@$r")...a man in such complete control of his craft. As fate would have it, not long after this show, Mick Harvey, Cave's right hand man of 25 years, decided to retire from the band...his fiery counterpoints throughout the night now take on the patina of epitah...
#1) MY BLOODY VALENTINE, Santa Monica Civic Auditorium, October What do you do when your dreams come true? More than I ever could have hoped, (and had given up hoping for), My Bloody Valentine returned to the states for the first time in 15 years, and picked up right where they left off, in a hazy narcotic swirl of harmonies and feedback. Noise, glorious noise. The story to date: in the early nineties, MBV solidified their lineup, dribbled out a few EP’s, one album, then unleashed ‘Loveless’, their masterpiece…then promptly disappeared for a decade and a half. Guitarist Kevin Shields made some guest appearances, did some soundtrack work (Lost In Translation), and signed to Island, only to record & scrap a record, slave to his perfectionist tendencies… Then, an appearance was announced at ATP in NY, and fortunately, before I could buy a plane ticket, a short tour was booked, ending in LA. And, so, one would say, it ended on a high note… The set drew heavily on ‘Loveless’, with a smattering of ‘Isn’t Anything’…Belinda Butcher was captivating, and Shields stayed out of the spots, letting his guitar communicate… And what has now passed into legend, the climactic ‘You Made Me Realize’, a couple of quick choruses, then into a 17 minute lockdown feedback frenzy, that chased the weak and earplugless from the floor, reduced the rest into grinning idiots, and even from the seats at the top of the auditorium grew into a vibrating shimmering thing that you could feel. My only description to those not there would be to imagine laying down on a runway at LAX & having a plane take off over you;))) …then back into a triumphant chorus, and goodnight & goodbye America…
Ending a quick US jaunt in service of "Grinderman 2", Nick Cave brought Grinderman to LA. Essentially a scaled down Bad Seeds tuned quartet-style to the key of filthy rock'n'roll.
Warren Ellis in full flight...
The finest example of said control came towards the close of their set, during the frustration anthem 'No Pussy Blues', from their first album.
