Nick Cave and Warren Ellis have been musical partners for over 2o years. This album, while relatively fresh, is one of their greatest works and is a testament to the duo’s kinship.
In 1995, Ellis joined the Bad Seeds fold during The Murder Ballads era. Since then, Ellis has remained by Cave’s side, creating what many would argue is the bedrock of the Bad Seeds’ discography, from the Boatman’s Call to the traumatic journey of Skeleton Tree. The pair have also developed scores for films like The Road, The Assassination of Jesse James and Lawless, while squeezing in time for their side project Grinderman.
“There is a certain sanctity in this friendship in that it has traversed all manner of troubles over the last twenty or so years, yet remains as resilient as ever,” said Cave in a reply to a fan from his forum The Red Hand Files. “On a professional level we have developed a style of songwriting based almost exclusively on a kind of spiritual intuition and improvisation that feels, as Henry Miller prescribes, calm, joyful and reckless.”
These years of collaboration and friendship spawned one of modern music’s most fruitful partnerships. A path, which led them to create their latest masterpiece, Carnage, the duo’s first formal full-length album outside of their film score work.
The album is a singular work wreathed in beauty, reflecting on a tumultuous election season, a summer of societal unrest and a devastating pandemic, claiming hundreds of thousands of lives.
In a statement, Cave and Ellis reveal they recorded Carnage over a period of weeks during lockdown and most of the song’s ideas were set within the first days of the sessions. It’s hard to believe an album laced with so many themes to unpack was finished so quickly.
Carnage opens with the quivering fear of “Hand of God,” which reenacts the sight of impending doom many felt this time a year ago. Ellis commands a mass of violins that flows as the river current. Cave looks to the river as a distraction from the oncoming disaster that awaits.
This same brooding feeling of leaving all responsibilities behind is felt on “Old Time.” The song features an ominous bassline repeating throughout its entirety while Ellis’ violin outshines it with shrieks and mournful woes. It’s a sardonic twist on Glen Campbell’s “By The Time I Get to Phoenix” (which Cave namechecks), a story of a lover’s deceit and abandonment.
The album’s title track is a hushed ballad featuring images of Cave as a child “reading Flannery O’Connor” and watching an uncle “turning chickens into fountains” on a rural farm. Cave wears his heart on his sleeve, likening love to a train “rolling down the mountains in the rain,” while Ellis provides heartwarming chimes and serene synths.
“White Elephant” is the weakest of the tracks on Carnage, just because it’s a rare Nick Cave song that is a clear protest song, a thing he’s never wanted to do in the past. While the first half is poised with Cave’s hysterical lyric comparing a cop to a “Botticelli Venus with a penis” it doesn’t hold nearly enough weight to contend with the other material on the album, especially the last half of the song that breaks into an odd gospel chorus.
The rest of Carnage plays out as a wondrous search for redemption. The opening piano chords of “Albuquerque” will bring tears to your eyes due to the sheer eloquence of each note. The song is about forced isolation due to the pandemic: “We won’t get to anywhere, darling… anytime this year.” Through the heartache of the track, there is an ounce of hope for what may come once the pandemic is quelled. Ellis’ violins and synth arrangements share the warmth one would experience from a loving hug or from the fading sun.
“Lavender Fields” is pure bliss — if there is a song that encapsulates your life before you fly away to that “kingdom in the sky,” it would be this one. “I plough through this furious world, of which I’m truly over,” delivers Cave, while Ellis’ commanding instrumentals sweeps listeners away.
Cave bears his devout and unwavering love on album standout, “Shattered Ground.” Sorrowful synths that evoke Angelo Badalamenti’s tone on Julee Cruise’s “Mysteries of Love” provide the backdrop to Cave’s guttural performance as his lyrics are adorned with heavenly elegance. “The moon is a girl with the sun in her eyes,” wails Cave as an enchanting piano line by Ellis rings out.
On the album’s finale, “Balcony Man,” Cave paints absurd images: “I’m a two hundred pound bag of blood and bone, leaking on your favorite chair.” A sparse piano line juxtaposes the hilarity of the song and is a welcomed break from the seriousness of the album.
Carnage sees Nick Cave and Warren Ellis represent and give insight into the inevitable emotions felt by those in lockdown by way of a transcendental journey into the deepest depths of the human soul.
Essential Tracks: “Shattered Ground,” “Albuquerque” and “Lavender Fields”
Prerequisites: Nick Cave and the Bad Seeds’ Skeleton Tree and No More Shall We Part