Nick Cave & the Bad Seeds—Live Seeds

Nick Cave & the Bad Seeds—Live Seeds

Live Seeds—It makes sense, in a perverted way, that a band with a reputation for fantastic live shows would not have many live albums. If the energy put off by the band is tough to encapsulate, perhaps it does it better justice to simply leave it alone. Nick Cave & the Bad Seeds, and even predecessor the Birthday Party, released no live albums until 1994's Live Seeds. Of course, decision-making in these parts is often done by the label, who for whatever reason may have decided the Bad Seeds were not valuable in their live incarnation. Live Seeds doesn't radiate the quality of necessity like other live records—say, Nirvana's Unplugged in New York, which was unique for its vastly different arrangements and colorful selection of covers. Live Seeds is neither of those, but at the time, the Bad Seeds were making detours from their usual ferocious sound; The Good Son (1990) featured less rocking and more vibraphone, and Neil Young producer David Briggs gave Henry's Dream (1992) a questionably slick finish to even biters like "Jack the Ripper."

While Tender Prey often sounded more like a blueprint than an artistic statement, Live Seeds gives its songs a more developed, rounded coloration. Signature song "The Mercy Seat" has turned from a processional to an outburst in what may be its definitive recording, while Cave spits new ferocity on stalwart "Deanna." "New Morning," which once sounded like a drunken tribute, now positively sings with a sparser package, exhibiting just how sweet Cave's voice can be between screams. Dead ringer "The Ship Song" receives the same benefits, sounding less apprehensive without the bombast. Cave's and Blixa Bargeld's duet "The Weeping Song" sounds more natural; "The Good Son" instills the bloodthirstiness lacked by the album of the same name.

"John Finn's Wife," "Jack the Ripper," and even the weaker "Brother, My Cup Is Empty" are more explosive than they were on Henry's Dream, while "Papa Won't Leave You, Henry" and of course "Tupelo" prove they were meant for the stage. Amusingly, the iconic "From Her to Eternity" ends up being one of the least essential inclusions, neither complementing its studio incarnations nor supplanting them. Cover "Plain Gold Ring" is given a more dynamic working, falling a bit flat not because it doesn't gel with the Bad Seeds' style so much as it or probably any other version will never come close to Nina Simone's.

Live Seeds is aggravating at times because it feels as though these renditions should have characterized their original albums. However, for the listener, this is something of a welcome dilemma, offering a great snapshot of the Bad Seeds as they were at their '90s peak. Nick Cave compilations, given the insular nature of his proper albums, are ideologically questionable, but Live Seeds is a worthy catch-all and could even be a solid introduction to the band.