Live Review: Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds

We find Nick Cave – Prince of Darkness, godfather of…I don't know, think of something black – can still laugh at himself. As in early this night, realising that happily bantering “Yeah, feel my cock!” with a drunk down the front, is probably not the best choice of words within earshot of a choir of primary school girls.

The opening challenge was the first half being a recital rendition of his/their latest opus, the polarising Push The Sky Away. It's subtle music, perhaps fitting with the surrounds, but not the stuff for those expecting the full Bad Seeds cacophony, the band seemingly working out who could underplay the most. There were moments of grace, like the quiet adoration of Wide Lovely Eyes, or the growing-to-grand Jubilee Street, complete with ticker-tape snowstorm over the audience. But it was like His Nickness was playing 'What Would Nick Cave Do?' as he struck the usual range of crucifixion and gargoyle-on-the-parapet poses along the stage front.

His half-joking explanation of Mermaids – “Its not about women, it's about the idea of women” – might have been some hint. You like the idea of Cave's melodrama backed by a 20-piece string section and that children's choir, but somehow it doesn't quite connect. It all goes up a gear through the familiar set pieces of the second half. From Her To Eternity, Red Right Hand, the postponed Deanna – as that hobo with the violin stage right (oh wait, that's Warren Ellis) having some technical problems (“No, I don't know what's wrong with the fuckin' thing!”) before they ripped into it, with recent Seed Ed Kuepper letting loose his trademark churning guitar.

The big strings returned to make Love Letter's longing an unexpected highlight. The Mercy Seat had a hollower, almost countryish, power to it as Barry Adamson's and Jim Sclavunos' duelling drumkits pushed each other. The encore Stagger Lee put enough motherfuckin' bullets in enough motherfuckin' heads to send us home happy – and early enough to avoid running into the Il Trovatore enthusiasts from the Opera Theatre.