Nick Cave and Warren Ellis, 2022

 

Nick Cave and Warren Ellis, live at Massey Hall in Toronto, March 2022

Nick Cave and Warren Ellis, 2022

 

Nick Cave and Warren Ellis, live at Massey Hall in Toronto, March 2022

September 28th 2019, Nick Cave at Convocation Hall

 

When my friend Carrie and I went to see Nick Cave at Convocation Hall in 2019 we were treated to a very different experience from past shows that he'd performed in the city. More than just a concert, Cave had structured the evening as a solo piano performance paired with a conversation with the audience, offering people the opportunity to ask him questions and speak directly with him about anything they wanted. Following the format of his Red Hand Files website, Cave listened to people's queries and answered them in a thoughtful and considered way, offering insights, advice, telling stories, and sharing his thoughts. It was a pretty special night, a rare opportunity to have a candid discussion with an inspired and inspiring artist.

Over the course of a couple of hours Cave played stunning solo voice and piano renditions of The Weeping Song and Jubilee Street and more, even taking a few requests like Into My Arms for a couple who had played it at their wedding. From that standpoint it was a stunning performance, a truly beautiful night of music, but it was when Cave spoke to the audience that really inspired, that really captured the imagination. He told stories of his early days as a musician and songwriter, he spoke candidly about his failed relationship with PJ Harvey, and he spoke about love, and grief, and loss. It was his thoughts on grief that resonated the most with the room, talking openly about the death of his son a couple of years prior, speaking to us very honestly about his experiences dealing with that pain. And in doing so, he naturally created a safe space for others to share their experiences, and it slowly dawned on me that there aren't many opportunities for people to speak about grief and loss with others, it's not something that we do very often. And I suppose that many of the people in the audience had the same realization, and when the chance was offered to them they took the opportunity to speak and share in ways that were very sincere and open, and probably more honest about their feelings than they would normally have been. 

The whole show was really quite a moving experience, a powerful and emotional night that transcended the concert format and became something else that was much more personal. I respect and admire Cave for opening up that kind of dialogue with his audience, and for speaking in a way that encourages both reflection and thought. It's not something that happens very often, and I applaud Cave for taking that kind of risk as an artist, for baring so much of his self and for encouraging others to do the same...

August 4th 1992, Nick Cave and the Bad Seeds at The Spectrum

Nick Cave is an artist who's inspired an intensely strong following, an appreciation built on a solid foundation of poetic lyrics and intense performance. He has a way of interacting directly with his audience in an intimate manner that creates a powerful bond between artist and fan, and as a result seeing a Nick Cave show isn't just about seeing a show, it's also about making a connection.

The first time that I ever saw Nick Cave and the Bad Seeds live was at the Spectrum in 1992 with my friends Dave B. and Jodi. It was on the tour for "Henry's Dream" and it was a pretty intimate space in comparison to some of the gigs that I'd see him do in the years to come, a club gig with only a few hundred people. From the moment that the band hit the stage they grabbed everybody's attention with a fiery version of "Papa Won't Leave You Henry", Cave at centre stage in a tight black suit moving with a long-limbed insectile grace and an intensity that I've rarely seen in a performer before or since. There was a charisma and intensity in that performance that was spellbinding, you couldn't look away because his draw was so strong, so powerful. 

Over the course of the next hour and a half Cave played a set that was made up largely of songs from "Henry's Dream" along with a handful of classics from earlier albums, and the entire audience was completely entranced for the whole length of the show. The pacing was up and down all evening long with the band alternating between spiraling heights of manic energy and quiet passages of great beauty and wonder. There was a haunting version of John Finn's Wife, and a near apocalyptic version of From Her to Eternity. They closed the set with an explosive cover of Black Betty, and in hindsight I can't imagine it could have ended any other way. As we left the venue it didn't feel like we had seen a concert so much as we had had a revelation.

Throughout the show Cave had a way of reaching out to the audience in some of the quieter passages as if to establish a greater connection with us more grounded in the physical, and while I know that dozens, hundreds, thousands of other artists have done that before and after, there was a feeling of great honesty when he did it, something genuine and real. Since that show at the Spectrum I've seen Nick Cave a number of times and he continues to stretch out his hands, and in recent years even walk out into the audience, removing the space between he and the crowd in a sincere effort to make contact both physically and emotionally. I think that honesty, that genuineness is at the heart of Cave's relationship with his fans, and I'm sure that many of them would say the same thing. Nick Cave's audience may be built on a foundation of poetry and intensity, but it's that sincere and honest contact he offers that sets him apart from other artists and inspires such devotion.