If there’s a feeling
that I have been suppressing since the moment this year began, it's this eerie
feeling that death literally surrounds me. It is as though everywhere I turn
when I'm online I am met with multiple reports of people dying, for all kinds
of reasons. 2016 alone has taken with it countless people; both famous and non-famous. People vanishing everywhere. The feeling of death looming around me gives me an anxiety that does nothing more
than constantly remind me that sooner or later, death will come for me, and everyone I know. It’s only a matter of time
and circumstance. But despite death being one of the most obvious facts of life,
it is unanticipated death that we seem to have never been able to conquer as people.
While death, love, and
loss are nothing new for the “grand lord of gothic lushness”, Nick Cave and his
band, the Bad Seeds, are back to deal with these issues on the most substantial and intimate level yet. Nick Cave’s newest album Skeleton Tree is the result of two years of arduous work that is forever marked by but not cursed, with the unexpected death of his 15 year old son,
Arthur. The direction of the album’s tone and production was changed the moment Arthur's death became a reality. What we have now is some of the most authentic and sincere embodiment of anguish, grief, and solidarity that can be found in music today.
I almost feel like I
don’t even have the right to really critique this album as it was made out of
so much pain. But like any strong person knows, life is full of pain and
suffering. It is a part of the very essence of being human. We cannot completely
rid of it, we can only deal with it as it comes. Nick Cave beautifully yet solemnly
deals with his pain in this dark and gloomy record that douses itself in dark
and ominous texture.
The general structure
of the album derives from minimal instrumentation that utilizes low but heavy
bass in the background, soft drumming, and fuzzy keyboard riffs that wane with an
obvious sorrow. Nick Cave’s voice in the album sounds like it’s forcing itself
to make the words come out as he either somberly speaks like he’s reciting
poetry or he is singing with his heart on his sleeve. In certain songs where
Nick Cave is at his most vulnerable, like “Magneto” and “I Need You”, he
displays a type of unapologetic sadness that pierces through your very being, given
how seriously you take your listening of the album. I honestly have not felt
this emotional while listening to an album in quite some time. Off the top of my head, I can only think of certain moments
from Radiohead that give me this type of feeling. The endings to “Fake Plastic
Trees” and “Videotape” come to mind.
The atmosphere the
music creates ranges heavily between the cold and mechanical, and the desperate
and lamenting. It’s all surprisingly breath-taking though. If I really had to try to
attach a concept to the album, I would have to say it was the five stages of grieving:
denial, anger, bargaining, depression, and acceptance. And it appears that all
stages are present within the album’s lyrics, Nick Cave’s voice, and the
stark instrumentation from the band.
While this album may
have been hard to make for Nick Cave, I’m glad that we even have it all. For an artist who’s been
releasing music for the past 30 years or so, we’re lucky to have gotten this
beautiful but melancholic album from a man who has lost a part of him.
Overall: 9.3 out of 10
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