Nick Cave and the Bad Seeds, O2 Arena, review: Glorious, gothic ringmaster leads a surprisingly uplifting performance

Songs from Skeleton Tree were scattered devastatingly throughout the set, with Else Torp’s haunting vocals on ‘Distant Sky’ adding a heavenly layer that contrasted magnificently with the hell-raising uproar of ‘Red Right Hand’

Cave took on the role of a quasi-religious leader, igniting fans’ emotions into a life-affirming fire of furious sound (Burak Cingi/Redferns)

Halfway through writing his sixteenth album Skeleton Tree, Nick Cave’s 15-year-old son died after falling from a Brighton cliff. In an attempt to deal with tragedy in the only way he knew how, Cave immersed himself in his music, making it hard not to listen to those songs through the filter of his grief.

This sell-out show, however, was surprisingly uplifting. Euphoric, even, at times. Far from cutting the sorrowful figure of an isolated man consumed by sadness, Cave took on the role of a quasi-religious leader, reaching out to hold hands with fans and ignite their emotions into a life-affirming fire of furious sound. During “Higgs Boson Blues”, he urged them to feel his heartbeat through his shirt – connection was the overarching theme of the night.

“From Her to Eternity” from the Bad Seeds’s 1984 debut album was an unhinged triumph, not least for the magnetic sight of violinist Warren Ellis causing sonic carnage with his instrument. The riotous “Tupelo” followed before Cave dedicated newer track “Jubilee Street” to his model and fashion designer wife Susie. The explosiveness of this mid-section then came to an abrupt halt in reverence to “The Ship Song” and “Into My Arms”, two classic love songs romantic in its truest and most perfect sense.

Songs from Skeleton Tree were scattered devastatingly throughout the set, with Else Torp’s haunting vocals on “Distant Sky” adding a heavenly layer that contrasted magnificently with the hell-raising uproar of “Red Right Hand” (complete with a pointed dig at Donald Trump’s “angry little tweets”) moments before it.

But it was during the encore that Cave cemented his role as the arena’s glorious gothic ringmaster, conducting his 20,000-strong disciples from a platform at the side of the stage for “The Weeping Song” before bringing a group of them up on stage for a storming rendition of the proudly profanity-laden “Stagger Lee” from his iconic 1996 Murder Ballads album.

The lyrics of the final song, the hymnic “Push the Sky Away”, summed up the night. “Some people say it’s just rock and roll, oh but it gets you right down to your soul,” drawled a roaming Cave, before stumbling upon Primal Scream’s Bobby Gillespie in the seats and handing him the mic.

In short: perfection.

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