Live Review: Conversations With Nick Cave

A live version of Nick Cave’s Red Hand Files/ask me anything collection, tonight’s aim was, as Cave put it, “to connect” and also “feel terrified”. “I feel confident playing songs, but standing here answering your questions, that’s real terror,” he replied to an 11-year-old who asked him about the hardest part of his job. Certainly the music was glorious – Cave played a grand piano in the middle of the Concert Hall stage as easily as if it were his bedroom upright. Mercy Seat, Into My Arms, Higgs Boson Blues, The Weeping Song, Mermaids, Sad Waters – all played to the backdrop of small clusters of fans seated on stage with him. The 2,000 odd rest of us seated around the hall weren’t left out, however – with Cave playing by request and in dedication, including a sweet version of Leonard Cohen’s Avalanche for a lady down the front who loves it but doesn’t quite know what it means (neither does Cave really, he confessed), and God Is In the House to recreate a moment for a man who loved hearing it here once before. There were obvious talking points like the loss of his son Arthur, and general questions about the source of certain songs and his musical process more generally. 

All of this was overshadowed though by an exchange earlier in the evening. “Did you used to be a heroin addict?” came from a voice directly and simply, up the back. Cave swaggered in his reply: “Allegedly.” It got a laugh. The follow up, “Do you have any advice for a 25-year-old who’s trying to get clean?” saw Cave visibly change. “Is that you?” he asked just as quickly and directly, with a boldness that perhaps only someone who knows could ask. “Yes,” came the reply. “Are you clean now?” Pause. “No.” Cave’s next moments were thoughtful and direct, but also raw. “Hmm, 25,” he repeated, as if to revisit as well as empathise. He recommended Narcotics Anonymous while joking, “I never thought I’d be standing on the stage at the Opera House doing that,” explaining how when he was looking for guidance it felt like “people who recovered just disappeared”. Not searching for a quip or bit, Cave recounted advice from an unlikely place. Barry Humphries had told him “the world gets funnier” when you’re straight. It was a gentle ‘chin up’ that offered hope without pity; a way out without judgement or sugar coating. It also showed that Cave had put his money were his mouth was – absolutely matching the bravery and boldness of the man who asked. 

Cave ended with Skeleton Tree and its gorgeous lyric, “Nothing is for free/And it’s alright now.” He left us warmly, but almost an hour earlier than advertised. We waited and cheered, hoping he’d return at least for The Ship Song – least of all because it had been an anthem for the Opera House itself. Instead the lights stayed on. It was hard to know if the early ending was a reaction to something said, or perhaps just exhaustion. A show like this is not like a comedian improvising a set and creating bits – this was more like chipping away at a building rather than creating one. However, moments of extraordinary connection were made.