True story. I once had drinks with Nick Cave (bare chested with sharkskin suit jacket), Jello Biafra (complete with white puffy sleeve, laced v-neck pirate shirt and knee high brown fringe medieval boots), and Henry Rollins (yolked in tight t-shirt). Note: Rollins had juice. I was assigned the task of showing these 3 legends of punk a good time after a Grinderman show in SF. (Which was epic) At our small table, it was like sitting down at an intimate king’s council. Which was comprised of a shrewd pimp-ish philosopher, a crazed but brilliant court jester, and wise & weary warrior. I say all those things with utmost respect. And no, this was not a dream sequence. It’s not every day that one finds oneself at a table of such esteemed company. It was as magic(k)al as you can imagine. Needless to say, the conversation careened wildly from philosophy, to poetry, to conspiracy. A truly inspiring moment to remember.
Here are a couple shots of the trailblazers back in the day.
Getting a chance to pick Nick’s brain a bit allowed me to gain an even greater incite and appreciation of his brilliance. Admittedly, I may have wrongfully skipped over some (not all) of Cave’s folky/poetic work with the Bad Seeds in favor or the more urgent material put out by Birthday Party and Grinderman. But one thing I can say for certain; Nick’s STILL got it! Let him be an enduring inspiration for this upcoming generation facing the vapid black hole power structure which slurps all creativity, individuality, and free thinking intellect from the youth culture. He’s also a testament that rock stars can age gracefully, with integrity, AND still ROCK. See: Tom Waits. Neil Young. Dylan. Stones. Sonic Youth etc. They don’t have to get soft or sell out/suck. See: Sting, Bono, Axl Rose, Ozzy?, etc etc…
~Below, Nick Cave plays “We Call Upon The Author,” from the 2007 album Dig, Lazarus, Dig!!! by Nick Cave and the Bad Seeds—it’s one of his more word-drunk songs, and he may even have consulted his dictionary to write it, what with lines like “our myxomatoid kids spraddle the streets … everything is banal and jejune … Prolix! Prolix! Nothing a pair of scissors can’t fix!”~
Below is a snippet from:
~NICK CAVE’S HANDWRITTEN DICTIONARY
Few musicians are as verbally expressive as Mr. Nick Cave from Warracknabeal, Australia, wouldn’t you agree? As a younger man Cave kept a journal in which he jotted down new words he wanted to remember and arranged them in alphabetical order. It’s definitely a good tip for writers starting out, you’re always learning, there’s always something to learn. Take notes endlessly and don’t waver!
A section from the A’s and a section from the M’s was made available a few years ago, words include AUTOCHTHON (“primitive or original inhabitant”)
and MICTURITION (“morbid desire to pass water”). I’d dearly love to see the whole thing. I hope that will happen someday.~
~Just for kicks, even though it has nothing to do with Cave’s dictionary, here’s a scrap from Cave’s journal, which happen to have the first lyrics to “No Pussy Blues” on it, which song made it on Grinderman’s first album in 2007. I can’t get enough of the line “I picked a bunch of dandelions,” and it’s fun to see that line represented here.~
As they exist today.
Nick, in the beginning.
Pure… Bad… Assssss
Source: Martin Schneider (~in~)
Additional story/content: Lee Sayer