Friday 24 January 2014

Northern Sky Watch......Push the Sky Away --- Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds



This powerful, yet delicate collection of songs, tinged with darkness but bathed in an odd white light have been sitting uneasily with me for the past week or so. That doesn't mean they are not enjoyable and is no reflection on the merit of this outstanding album, but it is an uncomfortable record and not a world I feel inclined to linger in for too long. The sound is sparse but with a rich and evocative vocal like Cave's you don't need a great deal of furniture. And in fact, Push the Sky Away in its entirety has the feel of unfurnished rooms, white walls, blank canvases, along with the occasional ambiguous shape shrouded in white sheets. That's part of the discomfort, you're aware something is lurking but it's a largely unseen danger, a shadowy presence that follows and watches - though occasionally unleashes a torrent of holy and unholy imagery that pulls you to both open and avert your eyes. I think, in the end, my impulse is to look, to see, to be aware.
This album is very much about seeing, not necessarily judging or touching - but acknowledging what is there, or was there, even: "They've dismantled the funfair/and shut down the rides/and hung the mermaids from streetlights by their hair". These lines speak of the destruction of our landscapes as much as the killjoy antics of governments, as well as the oppression and sexual objectification of women, pulling them from the freedom and sanctuary of the sea and using them as senseless artefacts.You don't need to know Nick Cave resides in Brighton to detect the sea-side town backdrop to much of this record. You can smell the spray beating against promenade, hear the beat of the tide, the endless ebb and flow in the hypnotic, relentless riffs on songs such as Jubilee Street and Higgs Boson Blues.
These two songs are the masterpieces on the album for me, though each track is a tidy piece of intrigue, and there is much quivering beauty lapping against the shores in both Warren Ellis's sensitively attuned multi-instrumentalism and Cave's mythical lyrics and intimate delivery on the album as a whole.


In an age of dumbed-down soundbites, it's gratifying to hear such poetry on a record in 2013.


Jubilee Street' may or may not refer to a street of this name in Brighton. There are Jubilee Streets all over the country so choosing a name like this is immediately both universal and localized as well as possibly being a nod to the Queen and Country to "practice what they preach". The Brighton street of this name now houses the new modernized library and some fancy coffee shops and restaurants. The place Cave is singing about delves into what lies beneath apparent respectability. The song depicts prostitution and obsession, hypocrisy and guilt. Ultimately it appears to lead to either transcendence, or some kind of out of the body experience - or possibly death "’I'm transforming, I’m vibrating, I’m glowing/I’m flying, look at me/I’m flying, look at me now" I'm not sure that this song really ends – rather - it just seems to lose consciousness and hang overhead… Only to return to haunt itself a few tracks along with Finishing Jubilee Street. Here, the narrator seems to be Cave (because he says in the first line that he's just finished writing Jubilee Street) so it appears to be him rather than the character in the original song, though boundaries are blurred right through the record, in time zones, in people, in where the sky ends. This narrator falls asleep and awakes from a peculiarly vivid dream of a girl called Mary Stanford.

I get the impression this has some bearing on a historical reality - a real person but from a bygone age who has visited him in a dream. There seems to be a jumbled story that can't fully be grasped as is often the nature with dreams but the message seems to be that the sky will devour "my children" so we need to "push the sky away". Whether this is metaphor or a fable or a dream is not clear but it sheds some light on the album's title, the opening track about the trees with pleading hands trying to hold off the invasion of the sky, and the strange underlying current the songs all seem to possess, a disconcerting kind of lullaby quality that rocks you to sleep but not necessarily to sweet dreams.



Photo: Syd Sheldon



The epic Higson Blues is the penultimate track. "I can't remember anything at all" Cave commences before embarking on a strange journey involving the devil, Robert Johnson, Miley Cyrus, Hannah Montana and presumably the enigmatic Higgs Boson particle which may or may not exist and does it matter anyway? Cave's voice is literally dripping with jaded summer exhaustion, he groans his way through the dust and confusion and the song ends where it started with his inability to remember anything at all. This is where it feels very inviting to slip into amnesia but I don't think this album will let you do that. You may fall asleep but you will wake up with another puzzle. And so it goes on.

Even when your stereo is silent, this album will find a way to inhabit your head. Nick Cave and the Bad Seeds are back and though the sky feels ominous, it's too compelling not to watch this extraordinary album unfurl.





Originally published with Mudkiss Fanzine 2013






 

Musings on The Messenger - Johnny Marr

The Messenger has arrived! With screeching breaks, breakneck speed, speed-dial immediacy.....this record is absolutely bursting to tell you all about it. It's like an excited friend returning from some crazy trip, sitting up all night to share their stories & images - and for you to fill them in on what's been going on around town while they've been away - in the pauses. Since time began, messages have been an exciting and vital part of the human experience, from smoke signals to morse code, we've found ways to connect with each other, to deliver the news, good or bad, urgent or trivial. And today, it's easier than ever to transmit our messages. We've got so many formats, it's mind-boggling. There's a real danger and it's often the case, that frequent messaging degenerates into something quite meaningless. When we're drowning in messages from advertising, social media, billboards and buses something usually has to speak to us personally to get our attention. This album manages to do that in twelve lively snapshots which coalesce together to create a buoyant body of work that IS something to grab your attention!

Johnny Marr is the master of the major AND minor chord, he can assume the role of orchestra conductor as comfortably as he can jam with a bunch of street musicians down on the corner - if that's what he feels inclined to do. His enduring, full spectrum career demonstrates his flexibility and refusal to be pigeon-holed by genre, place or time. Yet, something about this record does have the feeling he's come full circle and is re-connecting with various incarnations of himself so he can really pull it all together, to neither disown his past nor glorify it but to simply integrate his many layers and lives of sonic existence. The past is audible in this record, in the music, the production and the delivery but the future is equally inherent in the mix, in the lyrics which grapple with technology, celebrity and identity. The sentiment and the vision look forwards at times, remain neutral at others and nod to history in the same breath, simply acknowledging, never wallowing.

Opening track 'The Right Thing Right' proclaims from the very first chime that this is an upbeat affair. There's an infectious energy that demands you get on your feet, run round the block or at the very least bang your desk if you're trapped in some godforsaken office somewhere. Each track has a definitive semi-abrupt end, a full stop, a message that is sent and received rather than lingering in the ether. Marr has always had an incredible sense of timing and throughout this album you realize that every beat is as intentional as every space between. There's an absolute symmetry and precision to the tracks, even the more jarring and insistent numbers like 'Word Starts Attack' and 'Upstarts' hit the nail on the head with just enough bangs to make the picture hang. There's nothing superfluous or self-indulgent about this album. It knows where it's going and it arrives on exactly the right frequency...the dial is tuned in perfectly. The sound is sharp and smart. This is perhaps exemplified on title track 'The Messenger 'which despite the intricate nature of the melody possesses a clean crystalline quality, a mystery about both message and messenger, a meandering, intuitive wander that could lead anywhere.


New Town Velocity floats onto our radar like a blue sky after a misty shower. It's a kind of rites of passage number, leaving school, opening up to life and all its possibilities in a world without uniform and rules. There's a beautiful sense of motion in the song and it absolutely demands to be played when out walking or driving - watching the world, seeing the sunshine hit the trees and feeling that dazzle of sun and shadow. It feels impossible for me, at least, to listen to this song and not visualize urban scenes and dreamy motion.
'Upstarts' the first single to be lifted from the album contains a healthy dose of defiance and anarchy. In fact, the spirit of punk pervades this album. Marr has always maintained a kind of outsider stance. Despite being revered as the legendary guitarist that he is, he is essentially a private person who refuses to toe the line or rest on his laurels. Many will say this album sounds like The Smiths. Here and there it truly does. Some may see this as a happy accident – some as a deliberate decision to return to roots. For me, it’s neither one nor the other. This album demonstrates a man at peace with his past but in love with life and each new day. Music’s always been my favourite medium for messages and there’s a multitude to decipher here. Decode in your dreams, dance without dictionary or diagram!

Thursday 23 January 2014

Bringing it all back home...to Brooklyn - Nell Bryden at the Ruby Lounge, Manchester - 31st January 2013

No frills, no fuss, no fillers, no gimmicks….Nell’s band are settled snugly on the stage in the darkened lounge – Nell steps smilingly on board to join them, diving straight into the punchy paen What does it take? Straight away the tone is set for the night “I know we got along, my heart is never wrong,” she affirms and there it is – the decision to listen to the heart, to trust the gut. This night is full of guts and hearts. The red rose garland (heart-shaped) that drapes the microphone is the only splash of colour in sight but burns all the more brightly against the stripped down feel of the performance. This floral mandala spells passion, romance, empowerment and perhaps more than anything, vibrancy. Nell Bryden exudes an exhilarating life force that will not be contained and will not be oppressed, in spite of the pain, the loneliness and challenges that are thrown on her path. She faces each one, looking it squarely in the eye. Feeling each one, she blasts it to pieces with a pure shower of cleansing emotional release through her music tonight.

The last time I saw Nell she had tumbling blonde curls, a majestic mane, her crown and glory, you could say. Tonight I saw Nell with no hair at all. Both pictures are equally beautiful. As has been well documented in the press, Nell developed alopecia quite recently. I have to say, the Nell that stood on the stage tonight was perhaps the most real and heartfelt I’ve ever seen her. Strangely, she managed to be vulnerable and invincible at the same time. It sounds like a clichĂ© but by losing her hair it’s as though she found a vital part of herself, her real, true, honest to the bones self. Not that Bryden has ever been anything but an authentic performer but it was a delight to see somebody so comfortable in their own skin, with no pretensions and no games on the agenda. Truly for her - there was nowhere to run and nowhere to hide and she embraced that so fully it was hugely inspirational. A message for all of us, it’s safe to be yourself….for how and who else can you truly ever be?



I first came across Nell around 6 years ago when she dropped by the Blue Cat CafĂ© touring her first record. Straight away it was clear how serious she was about her music, how in love with her guitar and her vocation she was. Vocation may sound like a funny word but this woman does give the impression she’s been called by some ancestral, deep rooted need to use her beautiful voice to wash away the aches of human existence, to turn it around into something magical and exciting. On one of those nights, I remember Nell asking me for a whiskey before she went on stage – or was it when she came off? Transatlantic confusion can occur where whiskey is concerned and I can’t remember which tipple we settled on but I do remember thinking the way she drank one measure of unadulterated whiskey somehow matched her straight-talking, direct approach to life. Again, no fuss, no fillers, no frills – just the real thing. Perhaps that simile also applies to her magnificent voice. Like whiskey, it can be smooth, matured and seamless – or, it can be rousingly raw and penetrating, making you cough as you swallow – hitting you right THERE ... again!

So, tonight, Nell is promoting her new album Shake The Tree but the set list constantly dips in and out of her expanding back catalogue, delivering a perfect pace of variable tempo and pitch. One of the things that really stood out for me tonight was the power of her poetry. A musical talent she undoubtedly is but she’s been doubly gifted as a priestess of the pen. The shockingly knock-out chorus of Fingerprints demonstrates this “Your fingerprints are still on my heart” – what an evocative metaphor for having your heart stolen and squeezed! Many of the songs are punctuated by Nell’s banter. Full of wit and anecdote, she’s very in tune with her audience who unnerve her a little by being too quiet. I agree we were, but I think it’s because we were so enthralled by her songbook. This is the last night of her tour and she admits she can’t wait to get back to New York having been on the road for months. Going home, missing home, losing people and places and also returning to them, are a common theme in her music. She slips through dreams, oceans and echoes with a gracefulness that glides you along beside her. And that’s the thing, you really do travel with her, through the chilly, nocturnal streets of Brooklyn, the parched paths of the Middle East, the dust, despair, even danger that sticks to the soles of her shoes, we can trace those patterns she paints with each inhalation.

The show closes with the Shake The Tree, preceded by Nell’s motivational invitation to everyone to go shake their own tree. As she says, you can wait for the fruit to fall and see and accept what you falls in your lap (if anything) – or you can shake that tree, reach for your soul’s desire. In other words, it’s about following your dream, making it happen, making it matter, and making it mean something. Nell Bryden at the Ruby Lounge meant something. Something beautiful, precious and ALIVE! As delicate as a quivering raindrop on of a petal on the rose, but as blooming and beautiful as a whole rose garden. Wake up and smell the sweet perfume!

Originally published with Mudkiss Fanzine (for more pictures visit Mudkiss or Mel's photography site Mudkiss Photography