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Evening Standard
Evening Standard
Lifestyle
Will Richards

Nick Cave and the Bad Seeds at All Points East review: exhilarating and bombastic

Towards the start of his All Points East set in Victoria Park, Nick Cave told the crowd that his management company had received a complaint that he and Bad Seeds bandmate Warren Ellis spat too much on stage, which was unhygienic in these times. His response: “You should see what Warren and I get up to off stage!”

For the rest of their exhilarating, bombastic two-hour show, the pair then made a point of loudly, grotesquely using a spit bucket at every opportunity. Along with the spit, this astounding show also had blood, guts and just about everything else.

Before Cave and co. took to the stage, All Points East had welcomed sets from the best leftfield rock artists around. Right before the closing set virtuosic Radiohead side-project The Smile showed off their dazzling playing and debuted new song Bending Hectic – a hint that their tenure will stretch beyond this year’s debut album A Light For Attracting Attention. Other highlights came from enigmatic New Zealand singer-songwriter Aldous Harding and soulful star Michael Kiwanuka.

To close things out, Cave and his band began their set by launching straight into the rousing Get Ready For Love. Within 30 seconds, the singer was mingling and holding hands with the loving crowd, a position he only vacated occasionally to play his piano on certain songs.

Chatting with the adoring fans, occasionally jumping down to join them, and, during Red Right Hand, telling one of them that he didn’t much like his Wilco band t-shirt, Cave was an intoxicating presence that was impossible to take your eyes off. Rarely – if ever – has an artist managed to make a gigantic outdoor show such as this feel so truly intimate, as if he were singing just to you.

The music in the 19-song set swayed from devastatingly intimate ballads (Into My Arms, Bright Horses) to grubby punk numbers (From Her To Eternity, Mercy Seat). On I Need You, from 2016’s lauded Skeleton Tree album, he sang devastatingly of grief, and minutes later was raging through the playful Tupelo, written about the small town in Mississippi where Elvis Presley was born.

These sonic handbrake turns that peppered the set could have induced whiplash, but it worked because of Cave’s effervescent energy and constant striving for connection, no matter what type of song he was singing.

After the tearjerking singalong of Into My Arms, he conducted the crowd through the gorgeous harmonies of Ghosteen Speaks and the handclaps of final track The Weeping Song. Never less than a magnetic presence, this was a show that confirmed Cave as one of the great living entertainers, spit or no spit.

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