The good son --- Nick Cave and the Bad Seeds --- 1990 (Mute)
(Author's note: this review was originally written a long time ago, like back when this album was released, so if the prose seems al little stiff or not as in-depth or flowing as you might usually expect from me, that's why. It originally appeared (and still does) on my website, TheLair of Lestat as part of my Nick Cave section. I may pull other reviews, both from the Nick Cave and other sections I set up, as the mood takes me.)
Personally speaking, this was the first Nick Cave album I heard. Having seen the video for "The Ship song" on MTV and been impressed by it, I was in no way contemplating buying the album until one Saturday afternoon, as I browsed through my local record store, they had the album going over the PA. I listened in wonder as they played the whole thing through, then went up to the counter and asked what album they had just been playing. The latest from Nick Cave, I was told: "The good son". I bought it on the spot.
The great thing about having heard it already was that I didn't have to play it to know if I liked it when I got home: I had heard it already, and I
knew that I loved it. As an introduction to the work of Nick Cave I'm sure there are better albums, but for me this was the perfect one. I later learned this was generally not seen as typical of the man's work; his albums prior to this had been mostly, dark, angry fiery affairs, and that in fact Cave fans were mostly upset by this "softer" work. However it turns out that he had just fallen in love and come out of rehab so hey, cut the guy some slack, huh? He deserves to be happy too!
From the opening, almost hymn-like "Foi na cruz" (which I have to admit at the time I had no clue as to what it is about, though later found out it is a Brazilian prayer which loosely translates as "it happened on the cross"), to the dreamy, melancholy piano that ends the final track, "Lucy", this album is a joy to listen to.
After the sacremental "Foi na cruz", the tempo kicks into high gear with the title track, which is menacing, thundering and disturbing. The whole thing seems to be building towards some hideous climax, but just as the music builds up, backed by Cave's snarling vocal, it soothes back into the chorus, then surges back up, taking the listener (if they are not a Cave afficionado, as I was not at the time) by surprise. An intense and sometimes frightening song, with a great singalong chorus of
"One more man gone/ One more man gone/ One more man" and based as again I found out later on an old African-American traditional piece called "One more man done gone". Slowing down the tempo then for "Sorrow's child", in which Cave personifies sadness as a small girl sitting by the water, inviting others to join her (Misery loves company?). The whole rhythm of "Sorrow's child" is dark, slow and melancholy, as you would expect from a song with such a title, but with a quite beautiful piano line leading it to its conclusion.
Slow-burning and brooding, "The Weeping Song" follows on, slowing the tempo down a touch, with a sort of military marching beat against what sound like xylophones (sorry, I'm not great at identifying instruments other than thee obvious). The song is a discourse between father and son, as the child asks
"Father, why are all the women weeping?" and the parent sadly replies
"True weeping is yet to come". The instrumentation on the song is very simple, with the same chords repeated over and over, no elaborate solos of any type, and no middle eighth. A simple song, and quite disturbing in its simplicty, this song strips away from youth the innocence and naivite possessed by children, showing them the real world they must face.
Things slow down again then, for the song that for me started it all off: "The Ship song", which is a quite simple and beautiful lovesong, with some gorgeous piano (again, most effective near the end of the song). Cave's vocal on this song is understated but powerful, and the tenderness that he squeezes into his gruff voice has to be heard to be believed. Lyrics like
"Come loose your dogs upon me/ And let your hair hang down", and
"When I crawl into your arms/ Everything comes tumbling down" colour the song and give it a stark and beautiful life of its own. It's very much a solo song, with just Cave's almost hypnotic vocal, piano and drums backing.
Back to shades of "The good son" then for "The Hammer song", which catalogues the travels of a man who leaves his home to find himself, find adventure and perhaps find peace, but finds instead nothing but suspicion, mistrust and outright hostility. This theme would be later echoed on Cave's next album, "Henry's dream", in the track entitled "When I first came to town". In "The Hammer song" images which have now become known to me to be recurrent themes in Nick Cave's song are evoked: angels, angry crowds, snakes and deserts. The tempo of the song is urgent, and has an almost Western twang to it, by which I mean that it sounds a little like one of those old "Magnificent Seven"-type movies.
"Lament" follows, the tortured song of departure, perhaps death, of a loved one. Cave sings
"I'll miss your fairground hair /Your seaside eyes". This is a man about to lose the woman he loves, and fixing in his mind every detail, every nuance of her appearance, every facet of her personality. The string section that runs through the chorus is very evocative, contrasting sharply with the spartan drum-and-piano backing for the verses. Which takes us to the penultimate track, the funny yet vicious (in that way Nick Cave has of being funny and vicious, and neither of the two concepts seeming incongruous) "Witness Song", in which Cave pours scorn and contempt on those who follow blindly religious icons, looking for meaning to their lives without being prepared to earn that meaning: those who attend (I would assume) the likes of gatherings where TV evangelists perform "miracles" in the name of faith.
The whole thing is treated like a gospel type ceremony, and indeed is again based on an old song, a gospel song called "Who will be a witness?" with Cave relating things like
"Behold there stood a fountain!/ The fountain with the healing water", while lacing the whole thing with heavy sarcasm. As the boppy, almost "born-again-Christian" beat counterpoints the cynical vocal, Cave tells the story of his following a friend into a garden and the two of them dipping their hands in the "holy fountain". Cave asks his friend
"Are you healed?" which she counters by asking him
"Well are you
healed?" He replies
"Oh yes I'm healed" and she then declares that she is also healed:
"Oh yes well I'm healed then too". Then he turns on her, snarling
"Babe you are a liar too!"
One of the standout tracks on the album, "The Witness Song" constantly looks for a dispassionate, detached view of the proceedings, but there is none, as Cave growls
"Who will be the witness/ When you're all too healed to see?" Not an anti-religion song, but certainly one that pokes savage fun at false healers, fake religions and perhaps cults, which prey on people's fears and gullibility.
The final track then slows things down, after the hectic, frenetic, vitriolic invective of the previous song, and "Lucy" closes the album with a gentle, sad, tender ballad to love gone forever (again I assume because of death) :
"Lucy can you hear me/ Wherever you rest?" The piano outro to this song, as previously mentioned, played with supreme gravitas and melancholia by Roland Wolf, is a joy to hear, and in many ways the album comes full circle, with what was all but a prayer to open the proceedings ending in a prayer of longing and hope for rest.
Appearances deceive, and I would never have believed, looking at Nick Cave (and this is not meant as a slight on the man, just the typical human condition of "judging a book by its cover") that he could be capable of such moving and accomplished music. I have, obviously, since listening to "The Good Son" become a convert to the Church of Cave
, and although I haven't found much to excite me about his last two albums, there are enough of his in my collection now that I can certainly rate him among my favourite artistes. As an introduction to a man whose music I would I think never have considered experiencing had I not heard this album, "The good son" is as good a way as any to get into the music of this poet and prophet from "down under".
All I can say is I'm glad I was in the right place at the right time to hear this, and start my appreciation of Nick Cave's music. Serendipity, perhaps...
TRACKLISTING
1. Foi na cruz
2. The good son
3. Sorrow's child
4. The weeping song
5. The ship song
6. The hammer song
7. Lament
8. The witness song
9. Lucy