Nick Cave & the Bad Seeds—Abattoir Blues/The Lyre of Orpheus

Nick Cave & the Bad Seeds—Abattoir Blues/The Lyre of Orpheus

Abattoir Blues/The Lyre of Orpheus—An artist that has been around for twenty-five years has probably already hit his or her peak. Even if they put out a particularly ambitious record, the work is generally relegated with bromide. Nick Cave has always had the advantage of not fitting into any particular musical world. His albums have never been held against an immutable benchmark like Exile in Guyville, Horses, or London Calling. It's rare to hear someone say, "He'll never make another Tender Prey," and maybe that's because Cave never made that perfect record in twenty-five years of service.

Twentieth-century Nick Cave was a mercurial being; each Bad Seeds record was its own beast right up until The Boatman's Call (1997), which read like a confessional. Often considered his best work, Cave took a left turn and wrote twelve deeply personal, affecting hymns and dirges as notable in their sincerity as they are in the absence of obscenity. He followed it up with No More Shall We Part (2001), a wintry but often cordial work that was a logical progression from its predecessor. That was unique for Cave and the Bad Seeds: for better or for worse, they never repeated a formula across consecutive albums. The diminished presence of Blixa Bargeld was becoming conspicuous as the band was beginning to sound less Einstürzende Neubauten and more like a church choir—or a Christian rock band, as they theoretically were at times. There was the return to straight rock of Nocturama (2003), but the material on that was less than captivating, and perhaps for these reasons, Bargeld decided to amicably separate from the Bad Seeds.

Bargeld, a founding member of the Bad Seeds, was certainly not expendable. His guitar work and other unique instrumentation made an irreplaceable impact on the Bad Seeds' first nine records. At the same time, the idiosyncrasies of the musical relationship between Bargeld and Cave had begun to hold back the evolution of the band. If there is one thing that Blixa Bargeld tends to resist in his music, it is beauty, and while this is not a bad thing in and of itself, the Bad Seeds were failing to sprout. Cave, having met the apparent love of his life in model Susie Bick, wanted everything to do with beauty in his art.

Abattoir Blues/The Lyre of Orpheus marked the point at which Warren Ellis became the engine of the Bad Seeds. Bargeld largely stuck to the electric guitar and chose to make his ideas heard through that instrument and special effects; Ellis brought a vestigial quality to the band, playing the violin, accordion, and on this album the flute, mandolin, and bouzouki. On the surface, Abattoir does not sound terribly different from Nocturama, which is not surprising: the Bad Seeds' rhythm section remained the same, as did producer Nick Launay, who often chooses to mix Casey, Sclavunos, and Wydler in front of the rest. "Get Ready for Love" exemplifies this, blasting through the kingdom of Heaven: the bastard child of "Nobody's Baby Now" and "God Is in the House".

"Cannibal's Hymn" showcases the new Nick Cave, not gripping the wheel so tightly but retaining his knack for the bawdy metaphor, here one of his best. Cave paints an indecent picture of sirens swimming with sharks, watching each party marinate in merrymaking. He refers to himself with a key allegory: "a bird on a fence," after Cave declared he was resurrected as the "Black Crow King" back on The Firstborn Is Dead (1985). "Hiding All Away" is a hidden treasure, not impressing on the first few listens but eventually delighting with its subversively churlish limerick; Cave waxes prophetic, claiming "There is a war comin'." "Messiah Ward" echoes "People Ain't No Good" and "Where Do We Go Now but Nowhere?", in which he mentioned "[his] future wife," perhaps demonstrating that Cave does indeed possess formidable foresight. Ironically, "There She Goes, My Beautiful World" has less to do with his muse and more to do with a "TV Party"-esque breakdown of the fates of various authors, with the curiously incorrect "Johnny Thunders was half alive when he wrote 'Chinese Rocks.'"

Nick Cave once reportedly said that "any true love song is a song for God," but it's hard to imagine that Abattoir Blues' best song "Nature Boy" is a paean to God when Cave sings, "I was having thoughts that were not in my best interest to mention". "Abattoir Blues" is the Vonnegut-flavored counterpart to "Hiding All Away", hinting at an overall concept that suggests Cave's movement away from literature independent from the Holy Bible. "Let the Bells Ring" is his tribute to the recently-deceased Johnny Cash, a Cave idol and occasional collaborator, while "Fable of the Brown Ape" is reportedly his song to Blixa Bargeld, though the connection is unclear. Whatever the case, it marks the change in tone to the Lyre of Orpheus album, kicking off with title song "The Lyre of Orpheus," a modified version of an actual myth.

"Breathless" is a different spin on "Get Ready for Love," guided gently by the whimsical flute-playing of Warren Ellis. It flows naturally into "Babe, You Turn Me On," a more stripped-down affair with Cave providing "atom bomb" sound effects. "Easy Money" is a dense, rainy lament that suggests Let Love In; "Supernaturally" recalls these subjects and also those from the previous half of the album. It, "Spell," and "Carry Me" probably form the weakest segment of the set—The Lyre of Orpheus itself is certainly the lesser of the two albums, but even at its worst, it's refreshing to see Cave and the Bad Seeds able to crank out songs prolifically. "Quality over quantity" is normally a preferable approach in anything, but for Nick Cave, dispersing his designs more broadly actually allows the Bad Seeds to flourish; the advent of Abattoir/Orpheus has turned them into a more complete band rather than unilaterally submitting to the atmosphere of the music. When they need to, they can still do that, and it ends up making those songs even stronger due to dynamics: even the weaker songs here make the characters on The Good Son (1999) seem like cardboard cutouts.

"O Children" is not one of these weaker songs, and in fact may be the best or at least within striking distance. It featured in the seventh Harry Potter film, which is in truth not a bad fit, and a rare notable Cave appearance not involving "Red Right Hand." It has remained one of the Bad Seeds' mainstays over the years beyond its own supporting tour. Its all-girl backing vocal, trudging drums, and ethereal guitar help make it one of the best songs they've ever done.

Abattoir Blues/The Lyre of Orpheus was a make-or-break record. If it turned out to be an hour-plus of Nocturama, it could have been a disaster for Nick Cave & the Bad Seeds. As it is, it ranks among other latter-day resurgences like Rust Never Sleeps. Is it that perfect record that eluded the band for so many years? Probably not, but double albums are rarely flawless, and Abattoir simply stands as an effort with a plethora of prime material, great to listen to at any volume, and a sign that there is life after death for a man obsessed with divine matters.