While we were away. —Ed.
PHOTOS: JULIA LOFSTRAND | If you want to see the original hipsters and their contemporary counterparts, copious amounts of black, and the counterculture royalty of Los Angeles all under one roof, the Nick Cave and Warren Ellis show at The Orpheum was the place to be. A few Vampire’s Wife dresses, a formal line designed for the edgier woman by Susie Cave, Nick Cave’s Wife, floated across the art deco theater setting a certain elegant mood.
In our seats, the crowd aware that it was there to see a legend, settled into a reverent mood. A sedentary Warren Ellis sat with his synthesizer strewn across his lap bringing forth the somber arrangements of “Spinning Song” for the opening as an imposing Nick Cave, in his as expected black suit, appeared to much applause, making his way to a small platform illuminated in neon pink lighting built off of the main stage for him. A three-person choir swayed behind him.
From his preacher’s podium, the 21-song set was comprised mostly of Ghosteen (2019), an album referred to by Cave as a “migrating spirit” that delved into the loss of his son; and Carnage (2021), the first album that Nick Cave and Warren Ellis recorded together as a duo/side project during the lockdowns. A Bad Seeds member since the mid-1990s, Warren Ellis is an exceptional multi-instrumentalist who has fused a symbiotic relationship with Cave over the years. Without the weight of heavy instrumentation, the dichotomy between the cathedral-like beauty of Ghosteen and the more violent Carnage captivated the venue from beginning to end with a resplendent spiritual-like presence in this non-denominational service.
“This is for the angels,” he said at the start of “White Elephant,” a boisterous song that was illuminated further as he took to his piano to finish the last chorus. Shifting from his personal spot to the main piano, Cave is master of stage and crowd, his janky dance moves somehow satisfying. Respected for his decades long career, he is humbled as he kneels before his choir pleading with them in song. A beautiful cover of T. Rex’s “Cosmic Dancer,” and the many “we love you Nick” yelled by fans in between songs, the crowd was happy with this incarnation of Nick Cave.
“There is nothing wrong with loving something you cannot hold in your hand,” Cave sung during “Ghosteen.” His voice mixed with the somberness of Ellis’s synth led my thoughts to general suffering—the world’s and my own, and I felt consoled in the quiet, contemplative energy of the room. “I’m the fucking balcony man,” he lamented as he finished “Balcony Man,” and exited the stage.
Nick Cave fans are unflinching. In the two-part encore, the haunting lyrics of “Hollywood” froze us as he sung about buying a tear-shaped pool and a gun that kills, and closed the song with his versified “Kis Gotami,” a Buddhist story. A mourner’s show, this song will forever reside with me. A PJ Harvey-less version of “Henry Lee” off of Murder Ballads (1996) was flawless despite Cave referring to it as an “ancient mid-Nick Cave period song,” and soon closed the show with “Into My Arms” from The Boatman’s Call and “Ghosteen Speaks.” As Nick Cave alchemizes over the years, he remains a dark poet, and with Warren Ellis, they leave behind a demigod legacy while living.
