About 20 years ago, a group of staff at Oakmeeds arranged to meet in the Lord Nelson in Brighton in order to a) slag off the Headteacher and b) er, not sure there was much else to discuss, to be honest. It’s great how terrible leadership causes a staff to come together and generate mutual support. The best Headteacher I ever worked with in the four state comprehensive schools I worked at was called Helen, at Brays Grove School in Harlow which was also the school where staff social events were minimal. There was no common enemy apart from Gavin Lowe, who was in Year 10 in 1993. This rule about inverse correlation between the quality of staff socials and quality of leadership doesn’t quite work when I consider my eight years at BHASVIC where the leadership was inspirational and the amount of alcohol consumed was almost infinite.
I digress. The staff social at Oakmeeds was scheduled to start at 7:00 so that’s when I turned up. When I arrived, there was only one other person there: an IT teacher called Shirley. I hardly knew her but we chatted amiably enough for half an hour by which time my pint of delicious Harvey’s had disappeared and I felt in need of another. Two pints of liquid may seem a bit excessive but I was struggling to keep the conversation going as nobody else had arrived. I offered to buy Shirley a drink and she declined, saying she would have to leave soon. I bought my pint of nectar, returned to the table to find that Pete had arrived. He was chatting away to Shirley and I offered to buy him a drink. He said he would get his own and he asked Shirley if she would also like one. She said that she would and, seeing the look of surprise on my face, said “Things have started to get interesting now.”
There’s no doubting the truth of what Shirley said but the lack of emotional intelligence that she displayed was staggering. I’d like to say how I got my revenge. I’d like to say that when I wrote the timetable in subsequent years, I could never find a way of stopping Shirley having a difficult Year 9 class on a Friday afternoon. Sadly, that wouldn’t be true.
In 1997, the reviews of Nick Cave’s tenth album, “The Boatman Calls”, were so good that I bought a copy. The first song, “Into My Arms” was sensational but, however many times I played the rest of the album, I couldn’t find anything to like. In fact, the sound of the album became irritating to me and I soon learned a smug, pat, put down of Nick Cave, which went something like this: “I like one or two songs by Nick Cave and Tom Waits, but a whole album is too claustrophobic and I can’t listen to it”.
The effect of this misguided attitude is that I never listened to anything else by Nick Cave until a friend sent me a link to “Hollywood” from “Ghosteen”. Listening to all 14 minutes of it, before breakfast on Tuesday morning, I was transfixed. I can’t remember being so blown away and moved by a song since, since, er…. Hang on, I need to start a new paragraph…
There are plenty of other truly great artists who spring to mind when I listen to “Hollywood”. My friend had started talking to me about David Bowie before we moved onto Nick Cave, and I can hear echoes of the title track to “Blackstar” in this song, especially in the timbre of his deep baritone voice. The intensity of the performance, for some reason, also reminds me of “Old Note” by Lisa O’Neill from the wonderful “All Of This Is Chance” album.
How much great art is borne out of unhappiness, despair, misery and heartache? I wrote about this a few weeks ago, after listening to “Deeper Well” by Kacey Musgraves when I asked if it’s true that listening to sad music makes me feel good, is it conversely true that listening to happy music makes me feel bad? I worried that I seem to take great pleasure from other people’s misfortune. I hope that’s not true (although I’m very happy when Pete plays badly at snooker) but there’s no doubt that sad music seems to act as a conduit for my own feelings of negativity, allowing them to dissipate.
The events that led to the composition of the songs on “Ghosteen” are almost too terrible to casually dismiss in an obscure blog but here goes.
Nick Cave has had four sons by three different partners. Jethro Lazenby (born in 1991) who died in 2022. Luke Cave (born ten days after Jethro Lazenby in 1991). Earl Cave (born in 2000) had a twin brother, Arthur and is known for his work in film and television (e.g. The End Of The Fucking World”).
The BBC reported on 15th July, 2015 that “the 15-year-old son of musician Nick Cave has died after a fall from a cliff in Brighton, Sussex Police said. Arthur Cave was found with life-threatening injuries on the underpass of Ovingdean Gap at 18:00 BST on Tuesday. He was taken to the Royal Sussex County Hospital in Brighton but died later from his injuries. His death is not being treated as suspicious and the coroner is investigating, police said. In a family statement, Nick and Susie Cave said: “Our son Arthur died on Tuesday evening. He was our beautiful, happy loving boy.” Arthur leaves behind a twin brother, Earl. The reason for Arthur’s fall is not yet known but friends have told the BBC he was up there with a friend and they seemed to be having a good time, even posting updates on social media. His friends say he was a ‘really, really happy boy” who will be dearly missed.'”
Three months later, the BBC reported this: “Recording a conclusion of accidental death, senior coroner Ms Hamilton-Deeley, said: “I expect the decision and planning to take LSD, or a hallucinogenic drug likely to be LSD, was made on the spur of the moment. It’s clear he could not know what was real and what was not real. It’s completely impossible to know what was in Arthur’s mind and what he was seeing.” In a statement issued after the inquest, the Cave family said they had been “overwhelmed” by the messages of support from people ‘in Brighton and beyond. Arthur was a wonderfully unruly, creative and free-spirited young man with an infectious, happy, funny daredevil nature. He loved his friends and family, idolised his twin brother Earl and was never far from his side.”‘
Nick Cave later (2023) talked about the impact that the death of his son had on his outlook. He said that he has become more conservative (with a small c) in his attitudes. He has come to understand how loss makes it impossible to get things back. He felt that the demise of religion and spirituality has led to a vacuum that we don’t really know what to do with.
Previously (in 2009), Nick Cave had said “I’m not religious, and I’m not a Christian, but I do reserve the right to believe in the possibility of a god. It’s kind of defending the indefensible, though; I’m critical of what religions are becoming, the more destructive they’re becoming. But I think as an artist, particularly, it’s a necessary part of what I do, that there is some divine element going on within my songs.”
Nick Cave has a blog called “The Red Hand Files” in which people are encouraged to ask questions which he answers – either in great detail or very succinctly. In Issue 273, someone has asked Nick Cave why he is such a massive wanker, to which the reply was simply, “I don’t know”. Someone else suggested “Fuck me, you fucker” to which Nick Cave replied “No“.
By contrast, Issue 270 is particularly upsetting/uplifting. Someone called Mark contacted Nick Cave about the suicide of his son, Murray. Nick Cave’s reply includes the following:
“We grievers, recognise in your letter the bottomless sorrow, the outrage, the desperation, the helplessness, the feelings of cosmic betrayal. We understand the sense of having nowhere to rest our minds that is not full of the darkest treachery. We know what it’s like to be confronted with the impossibility of a future life and the feeling that things will never be bearable again. Many of us also know the ghastly mechanics of planning the funeral of a child midst the zombied chaos of new grief. We know, Mark, and we are so very sorry. But I want to say something, and even though it will doubtless mean little to you at this moment, I hope in time you will look back and know I spoke a kind of truth. Some years have now passed since the loss of my own sons, and though gone from this world, I have come to understand that they still travel with me – they are with me now – but more than that, they have become the active participants in a slow but certain awakening of the spirit. It saddens me deeply that they never lived their own full lives, but though I would give anything to have them back, these departed souls ultimately served as a kind of saving force that revealed the world to Susie and me as a thing of outrageous beauty. I have found my relationship to the world enriched in a way that I never dreamed possible. I know this to be true, but I also know it is a truth beyond understanding in your time of fresh grief, and so I say these things with extreme caution and pray it doesn’t come across as a kind of glibness uttered into your despair. It seems like Murray was a beautiful young man, a sensitive and vital being, and these are the saddest and most hopeless days you will experience, but I want you and your family to know this – if you can just hold together, I believe that life will get better for you, in ways you cannot yet comprehend. One day you will find Murray travelling with you, not just as a grief or a memory, but as an animating and guiding principle, allowing you to experience joy in a way you have never experienced it before. Be kind and patient and gentle and merciful with one another. Stay close. Hold firm. Forgive. Grief prepares the way. Joy will in time find you. It is searching for you, in the impossible darkness, even now. Love, Nick.“
I’ve quoted a lot of stuff there but it has only after reading all this background that I’ve come to appreciate the optimism and peace that Nick Cave has found from within himself after such tragedy. To say that the feeling of “Ghosteen” is a result of the death of Arthur Cave makes it seem that the album might be depressing, morose and angry. Nothing could be further from the truth. The album is inspiring and beautiful. The sound owes a lot to Warren Ellis, who has been a member of Nick Cave’s backing band, The Bad Seeds, since 1993. He plays synthesiser, violin, flute and also adds loops. There is very little percussion on the album, which could be categorised as ambient-electronica.
Although many of the songs were sketched out in Brighton, in 2018, it was only when Nick Cave and Warren Ellis started recording in Malibu, that the album took shape. Many of the songs’ lyrics were discarded and were re-imagined by Warren Ellis playing ambient soundscapes over which Nick Cave improvised lyrics from his subconscious. He described his state of mind as being in “a liminal state of awareness, before dreaming, before imagining, where glimpses of the preternatural essence of things find their voice”.
Of course, everything comes back to The Beatles and reading the phrase “a liminal state of awareness” reminded me that the “Bardo” has been described as being in a liminal state of awareness. The Bardo occurs between death and rebirth according to some schools of Buddhism. One of the Buddhist texts that explore this concept is called “Bardo Thodol” which is commonly known in the West as “The Tibetan Book Of The Dead” and this is the book that John Lennon borrowed lines from when he wrote “Tomorrow Never Knows” on “Revolver“. I’ve already given my opinion that there are elements of “Ghosteen” that sound like David Bowie’s “Blackstar” but this digression down the “Bardo” sidetrack also leads me to reference “Quicksand” from David Bowie’s “Hunky Dory“. One of the lines from the song is “If I don’t explain what you ought to know, you can tell me all about it on the next Bardo.” He later sings “Don’t believe in yourself. Don’t deceive with belief. Knowledge comes with death’s release.” This could be interpreted as an anticipation of enlightenment coming with death. I have no idea whether it is too far-fetched to suggest that this album is all about enlightenment in the face of tragedy.
“Ghosteen” is a double album – Disc 1 consists of eight songs which Nick Cave describes as “the children” and Disc 2 contains two longer songs (the title track is over 12 minutes long and “Hollywood” is over 14 minutes long) and a spoken-word track, which he describes as “their parents”.
“Sun Forest” begins with two and a half minutes of ambient beauty created by synthesiser and piano. A spoken word verse describes a dream-like moment in which Nick Cave lays in a forest and glimpses “a spiral of children” climbing up to the sun. The chorus implores everyone to join them all as a heavenly choir creates a feeling of bliss. In the final verse, he notices burning trees, fields of smoke and screaming horses but can see “your bright green eyes so beautiful”. A one minute coda is sung in a falsetto voice “I am here beside you. Look for me in the sun.” Is this meant to be the voice of his son? If this sounds dark and gloomy, that’s only half right. It’s dark but gorgeous.
The following song, “Galleon Ship” describes a journey across the seas into a beautiful future. Nick Cave’s voice is at its most emotional on the song and the musical accompaniment is complex, ethereal and joyous. The words from his blog seem especially pertinent here. “One day you will find Murray travelling with you, not just as a grief or a memory, but as an animating and guiding principle, allowing you to experience joy in a way you have never experienced it before.”
The 14-minute “Hollywood” is remarkable. Nick Cave sounds like he is about to lose faith and give up on life. He repeats “I’m waiting now for my time to come” over and over until he sees a child drop his bucket and spade and start his ascent into the sun.
The story of Kisa Gotami is one of the most famous ones in Buddhism. After losing her only child, Kisa Gotami became desperate and asked if anyone could help her. Her sorrow was so great that many thought she had lost her mind. An old man told her to see the Buddha. The Buddha told her that he could bring the child back to life if she could find white mustard seeds from a family where no one had died. She desperately went from house to house, but to her disappointment, she could not find a house that had not suffered the death of a family member. Finally the realization struck her that there is no house free from mortality. She returned to the Buddha, who comforted her and preached to her the truth. She was awakened and entered the first stage of enlightenment. Eventually, she became an Arahat, someone who has gained insight into the true nature of existence and has achieved Nirvana, (the “blowing out” or “quenching” of the activity of the grasping mind and its related unease).
The final part of the album consists of Nick Cave telling the story of Kisa Gotami in the same falsetto voice that he used at the end of “Sun Forest”. Is this supposed to be a message from his son that everyone suffers and suffering is part of the journey to enlightenment?
It seems a bit mean to write about this album as if all the others beforehand are not as interesting. Shirley might say that, but I know that I haven’t explored them as much as I could. Nevertheless, I have been astounded by how much this music has affected me and I feel inspired to listen to all of his other albums. Bob Dylan put it rather well on “Mississippi” from “‘Love And Theft‘”. “Stick with me baby, stick with me somehow. Things should start to get interesting right about now“.
My book of the first 100 posts I made in 2020 is now available. It contains explanations of why The Moody Blues are much maligned, how Kevin Ayers nearly made me cool, and the undisputed fact that the best Rolling Stones album was released in 1967. There’s also stuff about how I re-connected with my musical guru, why my late night singing was the talk of a small part of Harlow and why I was a member of a football team called The Yellow Perils.
Add Some Music To Your Day 
Coincidence. Around the time that you were posting this, I was sitting at a table in Provence with family, talking about Nick Cave and the loss of his sons. I was thinking of Ghosteen and of Suzy Cave and her company Vampire’s Wife which, in the same way as Ghosteen was for Nick, it was part of her way of dealing with the loss of her son. So, coincidence, but I can’t recall what prompted the Cave conversation.
LikeLike
That’s astonishing. I take it that you are an admirer of the album?
LikeLike
I don’t love it, though I am, as you say, an admirer. I listen to Nick Cave only when I’m in the mood, when I’m prepared to give the music proper attention.
LikeLiked by 1 person