Nick Cave’s Transcendent ‘Wild God’ Show Takes Brooklyn’s Barclays To Another Level (Review)

The incomparable Nick Cave is a gothic punk rock preacher man, one who’s somehow survived life’s brutality and glory and come out the other side with greater wisdom, grace, depth, candor and compassion. On April 17, the 67-year-old Australian and his excellent band The Bad Seeds, harnessed those powers to transform Barclays Arena into a church of Wild Gods.

It was an unlikely space for an artist known for murder ballads and intimate audience engagements. But even with 17,000 seats nearly filled, he pulled the people in close, including those in the farthest sections. A master showman, he conducted the crowd through raucous highs (notably “Jubilee Street”) and into the deep sadness of the Bad Seeds’ ballads. The set included songs, or “stories,” from his new album Wild God, (PIAS Records) as well as what he called “extremely old geriatric mid-period Nick Cave.” 

It was, as one fan put it, a “beautiful, majestic, melancholic, dramatic, sad, joyous, spiritual, explosive, devastative, draining, heart-wrenching, transcendent” show. The die-hards in the front rows looked like baby birds or fighter fish rising-up to him as he approached, hand extended. They were rewarded again and again as he knelt into them, clasped their hands, pointed his finger in their faces, and seemingly even recognized them. “You again.” 

Cave tours with some frequency as a solo artist and will do so again this summer, albeit in smaller venues, but this was a rare opportunity to see him with the Bad Seeds, who last toured in 2018. The band was tight with frequent co-writer Warren Ellis standing out stage left, hitting the high notes and strewing his instruments. Barclays was the second Bad Seeds show, and possibly the largest, of the “Wild Gods” tour, which opened at the Agganis Arena in Boston on April 15. The tour hits 18 cities with 19 performances. Most other venues on the schedule are smaller, like Kansas City Music Hall and the Denver Mission Ballroom, with capacities of 3-4,000. 

The night peaked several times when the various worlds co-existing on stage united full throttle—the angelic back-up singers in their silver sequined gowns motioning in unison; Thomas Wydler and Jim Sclavunos going all out on percussion; Martyn P. Casey and George Vjestica filling in the wall of sound with vocals and guitars; Ellis on fire, knocking over his chair and wailing in soprano; and the screens lit up with close focus on Cave howling into the faces of the front row. 

And then with a clap, silence. And from the silence, some of the most moving songs Cave has ever recorded. Songs about loss and the incredible agony of being alive. Songs for his tribe.

It’s not Cave’s punk rock anger (see The Birthday Party 1977-83) or his soulful sadness that moves people, necessarily, it’s the authenticity with which he delivers all of it. In a world full of posers, Cave is the real deal. He has been through it, from Australian country boy with an artistic bent, to drug addict in Berlin, now an English gentleman, husband and grieving father. He has evolved into a disciplined elder statesman of punk rock with an unmistakable style that is both striking and contradictory. His baritone voice is menacing but the lyrics can be so sweet. He is a vision, skipping sideways across the stage in a fitted Bella Freud, hems flared, Gucci loafers shining in the spotlights. “I’m coming to do you harm,” he growls. “With the gun in my pants full of elephant tears, and a seahorse on each arm.”

Nick Cave (Megan Cullen.)

After an 18-song set, the band was enthusiastically brought back for an encore. The Bad Seeds performed “Papa Won’t Leave You,” “A Weeping Song” (which featured an extraordinarily executed audience participation), and “Skeleton Tree” (it’s worth reading this Q&A about that song), then left. Cave remained for a solo finale, a rendition of “Into My Arms” that had this reporter in tears. 

St Vincent opened the night with a powerful performance that was perhaps lost on the crowd, which was just starting to trickle in. The arena was roughly half full when she took the stage at 7 PM on the dot. She poured herself into a short hot set. The high contrast black and white video had an inky quality, her pupils liquid and shining.  

The tour ends at the Cruel World Festival May 17 in Pasadena, where The Bad Seeds share the bill with New Order, the Go-Go’s and an odd assortment of other bands. Their last solo show is May 14 at the Bill Graham Civic Auditorium in San Francisco. Cave resumes touring in June for three months in Europe. In the meantime, fans are fed, and new ones are minted, by his regular posts on The Red Hand Files, where he answers questions with eloquence and heart. Through the profound grief he experienced with the death of two of his four sons, in 2015 and 2022, respectively, he has become a voice for others who are suffering. On stage he knows how to bring the storm, on page, he is able to cut through it with clarity and light.

Cave doesn’t take it easy on stage. Five months of touring with few breaks and a lot of travel will take stamina. At 67 he looks amazing, lanky and slim, which he attributes to taking walks and swimming in cold lakes. Twenty years as a heroin addict also kept the weight off, he says, but he doesn’t recommend that method. After one exceptionally energetic song, he stopped to wipe the sweat off his face. “We’re gonna get fit,” he said catching his breath. “I shouldn’t have been sitting on my ass for the last three months.”

Cave is managed by Brian Message at Suzi Goodrich ATC Management, his agent is Alex Burford at ATC Live, his label is PIAS and his P.R. team is led by Chloe Walsh at The Oriel.  

Setlist:
Frogs
Wild God
Song of the Lake
O Children
Jubilee Street
From Her to Eternity
Long Dark Night
Cinnamon Horses
Tupelo
Conversion
Bright Horses
Joy
I Need You
Carnage
Final Rescue Attempt
Red Right Hand
The Mercy Seat
White Elephant

Encore:
Papa Won’t Leave You, Henry
The Weeping Song
Skeleton Tree
Into My Arms