Mark Mordue’s masterful biography of Nick Cave covers his early years growing up in rural Victoria to his departure to England in 1980 with this band the Boys Next Door (BND).
In the preface Mordue indicates that this was originally intended to form part of a ‘mega-biography’ of NC, however the sheer quantity and depth of the entire body of Cave’s work ‘overwhelmed’ him. How fortunate we are that Mordue chose to salvage and publish the story of this part of Cave’s life which charts his development as a performer and creative artist and the wild and, lets-be-honest, low-level criminal excesses of his early adult life.
One of the strengths of this work is that while Mordue himself is an excellent writer and an astute critic, the family, friends and enemies that he spoke to are themselves extremely smart, witty and insightful. Look at how Bronwyn Bonney brilliantly dissects the many factors that make NC successful (p296). This layer of additional insight means that the book is much more than one author’s critical assessment.
Unlike the UK, or for that matter Brisbane, Melbourne’s ‘punk’ scene was born in our leafy middle-class eastern suburbs, and fostered in a social climate of free tertiary education, cheap rent, cheap drugs and a social welfare system that provided a living income that enabled creative types to experiment, fail and improve. No wonder millennials hate us!
Mordue absolutely nails the low-rent glamour, cattiness and drug-use that was the pervasive atmosphere of the Crystal Ballroom in the late ‘70s. In the early ‘80s I was a regular at the Seaview Ballroom (as it was then) and it was clear that one’s place in the pecking order was determined by your proximity to the inner circle of The Birthday Party and (to a lesser extent) The Models.
As someone who was ‘around’ then, it was great to see Mordue acknowledge many of the artists that influenced Cave. Although it eluded me at the time, the impact of the brilliant early Pere Ubu albums on NC’s vocal styling and the Boys Next Door sound now seems self-evident. Mordue also recognises many of the people that provided support to the BND. Stephen Cummings was an early advocate of the band, regularly asking them to support The Sports. And how good was it to see the Peter Lillie namechecked! Finally, where would Australian music be without the remarkable contributions of Tony Cohen and Keith Glass. While Tony Cohen’s contribution to Melbourne’s independent music scene has been noted in many books and documentaries, Keith Glass’s encouragement, management, and financing of the BND (and many other Australian independent bands via his Missing Link record label) came at a watershed moment in their career. Although the Birthday Party fell out with Glass for reasons not made entirely clear in this book, he was instrumental in the BND recording three amazing singles for Missing Link, ‘Happy Birthday’, ‘Mr Clarinet’ and the amazing ‘The Friend Catcher’. These three singles are my personal favourites from the entire BND/BP/NC catalogue. Phill Calvert, who comes across as the sweetest guy, certainly the sweetest of the surviving BND said ‘…There wouldn’t be the Nick Cave that we know today, if it wasn’t for Keith. Thank you, Keith Glass’ (p351)
Like Mordue I only saw the band’s reincarnation after they returned from the UK as ‘The Birthday Party’ in the early ‘80s. I saw them three or four times and Mordue’s description of his reaction to seeing them for the first time is exactly now I felt ’…I hated them, Nick most of all, whom I regarded as a poseur and someone who held the audience in contempt.’ (p363). I remember one BP gig at the Seaview Ballroom where NC mocked the support band for engaging in audience participation and followed up by humiliating a punter who had been naïve and uncool enough to actually participate.
However, again like Mordue, I saw them in 1982 on the back of the release of ‘Prayers on Fire’ and they had reinvented themselves again. MM describes their performance at the San Miguel Inn in Sydney as ‘demonic’ (p364) but on this tour they demonstrated that they could be a formidable live act. While Cave has had many career highlights since the demise of The Birthday Party, if you want to listen to NC at his anarchic best I recommend ‘Drunk on the Pope’s Blood’ (aptly subtitled ’16 minutes of Sheer Hell’) a live recording of four songs from this time. The Bad Seeds and Nick Cave’s solo work seem anaemic by comparison.