Nick Cave has referred to his latest album The Boatman's Call as a conclusion to all the work which has preceded it. So at this self-professed transitional period in his career, let's have a quick look back at the eleven album's he's made since the dissolution of the seminal Birthday Party...
At the time it was released this album was seen by the music press as virtual career-suicide, although looking back now the move from the bastardised blues-punk of Junkyard to the bastardised blues-jazz of the Bad Seeds' first outing was hardly revolutionary. If anything, the sound was slightly more experimental (thanks in main to the singular talents of Blixa Bargeld and Barry Adamson, in turn tempered by the skills of Mick Harvey) giving Cave more room than ever to explore dark lyrical tales like the forlorn 'A Box For Black Paul' and the classic title track. The likes of 'Saint Huck' and 'Cabin Fever' meanwhile, would not have been out of place on any Birthday Party album. And it was left to the two covers Cave recorded at this period - Leonard Cohen’s 'Avalanche' and the classic 'In The Ghetto' (which was released as a single, and later included on the CD reissue of the first album) - to offer a true indication of the direction Cave was to head in. (8/10)
This was the album which saw Cave reborn as the infamous 'Black Crow King'; from punk-icon to Minister of Rain in one foul swoop. The blues elements became more focused (presumably as the band members became more accustomed to playing together), but at the same time more wretched - 'Tupelo' crowning the whole album like some warped bedtime story told to petrified infants by a murderous psychotic just before he eats them for supper, as the thunder cracks loudin the sky. This album was actually a much bigger step forward for Cave than Eternity, and as such it tends to aim in slightly the wrong direction at times - but it’s an album which had to be made for the rest to follow. It cleared a path through what had gone before: slaughtered the First Born. (7/10)
It wasn't until he recorded this album of cover versions that the media
finally cottoned onto what Cave was actually trying to do with the Bad Seeds.
Critically 
this album did considerably better than its two
predecessors, and the air of familiarity provided by songs like
'Something’s Gotten Hold Of My Heart' and 'The Carnival Is Over' make
this the perfect introduction to the early days of the Bad Seeds for the
thousands of new fans pulled in by Murder Ballads. The covers
are all surprising faithful - with the exception of a brilliantly sombre
rendition of 'Hey Joe' - and they showcase Cave's diverse vocal talents
beautifully, from the gospel sounds of 'Jesus Met The Woman At The Well' to
the quiet reflection of the Johnny Cash song 'The Singer' (which was also
released as a single, and kicks firmly against one or two media-employed
Pricks: "Did you forget this fuckin' singer so soon?") (8/10)
Originally released as two 12" singles, the eight tracks which comprised this album (the notorious 'Scum' was added for the CD reissue) range from the sad lament of the opening title track, to the rockabilly riffs of 'Hard On For Love'. In a lot of ways this can be seen as a kind of sister album to the much more polished Murder Ballads. The mood is similar, if even more vicious, and the subject matter is also not a million miles away - although the songs present here can be viewed more fairly as tragic love songs, than vengeful tales of murder (but in Cave's hands the two frequently become indistinguishable!) Interestingly it was the album’s artwork (assembled by Cave) which caused the most controversy upon release - Cave bringing the old Sex and Religion metaphor back down to the gutter. (8/10)
Pounced upon by music critics as Cave's magnum opus, 'Tender Prey' saw public opinion sway back into Cave's direction, and suddenly he was commanding a larger audience then ever. This was where his own achievements finally eclipsed all memories of The Birthday Party. And make no mistake, 'Tender Prey' is one Hell of an album. From the opening of 'The Mercy Seat' (at the time Cave's most successful single by a long way), the blues of 'Up Jumped The Devil', and the sing-a-long stomp of 'Deanna', right through to the optimistic strains of 'New Morning', everysong drips with quality. This was the first album Cave made after getting out of the rehab clinic, and the clarity of mind he must have been experiencing is reflected in the pure emotion of songs like the voyeuristic 'Watching Alice'. Cave had indeed reached a peak in his recording career, but fortunately for us he had a few more mountains before him. (10/10)
In the late 80's Cave relocated himself to Brazil, and this change in environment was more than self-evident on this album, released in 1990. Someone once said about the opening track 'Foi Na Cruz': "it's the most beautiful song I've ever heard". I think it was someone from Ned's Atomic Dustbin, but still, they weren't far wrong. In fact the most beautiful song I've ever heard is 'The Ship Song' (which is also present here), but then somebody else once said that 'Lucy' was one of the most beautiful songs ever written (I think it might have been Shane McGowan... but then if he can't remember, how should I?) One of the most gentle of Cave's albums - and a good place for fledgling admirers to begin. (9/10)
Back in fire-breathing, flesh-ripping, baby-burning form for his seventh album, Henry's Dream kicks off with the fearsome 'Papa Won't Leave You, Henry' - one of Cave's most vivid tales of sex and murder - and ends with the bombastic 'Jack The Ripper'. There are brief moments of beauty in between the violence and madness, indeed 'Loom Of The Land' is one of the simplest and most effective love songs Cave has written. But sex and violence wins the day in the form of 'John Finns' Wife' - which sees the protaganist murder his lover's husband before returning to the dance to claim his prize. (8/10)
Not a lot to say about this, except it's one of the best live albums ever released. The recording is excellent, and the performance equally so. Plus it comes with a cool photobook. (9/10)
Easily Cave's slinkiest album this. Smooth sonic secuction, as Nick reveals another hidden identity: that of Barry White's younger, paler, slimmer brother. There's a whole brace of tempestuous love songs - the two-part 'Do You Love Me?', the extremely sombre 'Ain't Gonna Rain No More', and the reflective 'I Let Love In'. But again, it’s the unexpected turns of humour which triumph - this time in the form of 'Lay Me Low', a funereal swing about the huge effect the singer's deathwill have on the world ("They'll bang a big old gong/The motorcade will ten miles long/The World'll join together in a farewell song/When they put me down below"), and in the single 'Lover Man' ("L is for lovin' baby/And O is for Oh yes I do..."). (8/10)
This was the one. Finally we got to see Blixa
Bargeld standing uncomfortably on the Top Of The Pops stage! I don't really
have to say much about this album, I suppose - everybody and his dog has
already heard it. A tremendous album, and one which finds Cave in a
hilarious self-parodying mood on tracks like 'The Curse Of Millhaven'. Not
his best album, but probably his most calculating. (8/10)
Well, if Murder Ballads was an unexpected move, then Cave's
latest was an equally unexpected - but delicious - counter-move.
The Boatman's Call is an album oozing with maturity and
experience. 
By far Cave's most personal work, he
bares all in the name of expression - and comes out of the other side a
sadder, but more hopeful being. The music is stripped down to the barest
necessities - just bass, piano and drums, in most places - and with instantly
spell-binding songs like 'Into My Arms' and 'Are You The One I've Been
Waiting For?', this is really all you need. It's Cave's voice that spins the
web, and pulls you in. An intensely beautiful album, which casts Cave's old
reputation as the current generation's Leonard Cohen in stone. (10/10)
