"Wild God" by Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds
MG:
Lately, I've been really into (pop) physics. It's an outgrowth of Ancient Aliens and grief and the curiosity that guides me through life. What is life? As embarrassing as it is to wonder, I do. One going concern is a supposed theory of everything, a way to unite the forces of nature (listen, I'm not an expert, but can you believe that, like, electromagnetism and weak and strong nuclear force make basic sense together but conflict completely with gravity?) and make sense of the universe and its existence. I bring this up to say that, in his own way, Nick Cave is also searching for that theory of everything, attempting to unify his catalog under his latest release. "Wild God" refers directly back to "Jubilee Street," it ties itself up in the ecclesiastical robes of Abattoir Blues, it smears across its face the schmaltz of Nocturama. It's kind of, you know, a Taylor Swift song? It's kind of fanservice of the highest order. What "Wild God" lacks is the desperate desire to prove itself that shaded the bulk of Cave's catalog, as well as the challenging creative partnerships that have been lost along the way. As a critic, I think "Wild God" is a bad song, but as a fan and as a human being more generally, it does have some irresistible charm. It's good to hear Nick Cave is doing so well; it's clear that whether or not I'd rather hear it performed on sawing guitars, he remains the consummate conductor of the ecstatic breakdown.
DV:
It's weirdly endearing the way Nick Cave is making corniness an increasing part of his thing as he ages. And if I'm being honest obviously we've both gotten older; maybe it's my own tolerance for it that's increased. But I still remember the first time I heard "No Pussy Blues" in 2007 and thinking 50-year-old Nick was a little old for it, and man if there's a side of himself he had to lean into we're probably better off having it be this one. "Wild God" is treacle, but it's the kind of treacle Cave has always excelled at - dirty and a bit rambling, and building to the kind of epiphany that aims to erase any questions in a wave of emotion. The one time I saw Nick Cave perform, he climbed off the stage and stalked across the chairs in the theater, picking his way through the audience like a giant preaching spider. Since then whenever I hear a new Nick Cave song I think, could he credibly sing this while straddling two rows of auditorium chairs? "Wild God" seems designed for it.