Why Nick Cave"s Album "Push The Sky Away" Is His Finest
Nick Cave's 'Push The Sky Away' is a masterpiece by merit of what it doesn't do, as much as what it does.
What it doesn't do is crunch and snarl and howl, which are all attributes that we Cave fans attribute to his greatest songs ('Stagger Lee', 'Dig, Lazerous, Dig', even 'No Pussy Blues').
Instead, he holds back his feral street-preacher side, and that latent ferociousness looms large over the album.
We know that he could turn on a dime at any second and start spitting holy vitriol, but he doesn't.
He holds it in check, and his audience in suspense.
That waiting for the other shoe to drop gives the album more edge than any other Nick Cave album where he goes balls-to-the-wall and leaves nothing to the imagination.
What heightens this edge even more is that he knows we're in suspense, and toys with us.
There is that pulating, grating guitar throughout the song 'Wide Lovely Eyes' that sounds like it could underly a jagged breakdown that never comes.
Then there's the driving bass rhythms in 'Waters Edge', underlying the macabre drones and fluttering drum stutters going on above.
The same kind of restless bassline undergirds 'We Real Cool'.
In all of these songs, there is very spare drum presence, most of the rhythm being supplied by a throbbing guitar somewhere in the mix.
One of the only songs to feature a steady drumbeat, and the song that comes closest to featuring a climax, 'Higgs Boson Blues', doesn't really rock like a Nick Cave song.
The drums stick to a drifting beat on the toms, as the guitar picks out a jangly repetitive pattern above.
And yet, paradoxically, all that unactualized potential energy incites the listener (well, this listener at least) to compensate for that which is held back in the fervor of their own response.
Somehow, there is an uncontrollable urge to dance in the absence of a dancebeat.
It is a tremendously powerful album, explosive even, but the blast doesn't happen in the music, it happens in your chest.
This is a new-feeling Nick Cave.
He maintains all of his ferocity and lurid appeal, but he magnifies it tenfold by holding it back, controlled.
Instead of giving you the guts you crave, he space-shuttles you out to a spare universe where there is little moving, but the whole space is infused, pulsates with unreleased energy, and fills you.
What it doesn't do is crunch and snarl and howl, which are all attributes that we Cave fans attribute to his greatest songs ('Stagger Lee', 'Dig, Lazerous, Dig', even 'No Pussy Blues').
Instead, he holds back his feral street-preacher side, and that latent ferociousness looms large over the album.
We know that he could turn on a dime at any second and start spitting holy vitriol, but he doesn't.
He holds it in check, and his audience in suspense.
That waiting for the other shoe to drop gives the album more edge than any other Nick Cave album where he goes balls-to-the-wall and leaves nothing to the imagination.
What heightens this edge even more is that he knows we're in suspense, and toys with us.
There is that pulating, grating guitar throughout the song 'Wide Lovely Eyes' that sounds like it could underly a jagged breakdown that never comes.
Then there's the driving bass rhythms in 'Waters Edge', underlying the macabre drones and fluttering drum stutters going on above.
The same kind of restless bassline undergirds 'We Real Cool'.
In all of these songs, there is very spare drum presence, most of the rhythm being supplied by a throbbing guitar somewhere in the mix.
One of the only songs to feature a steady drumbeat, and the song that comes closest to featuring a climax, 'Higgs Boson Blues', doesn't really rock like a Nick Cave song.
The drums stick to a drifting beat on the toms, as the guitar picks out a jangly repetitive pattern above.
And yet, paradoxically, all that unactualized potential energy incites the listener (well, this listener at least) to compensate for that which is held back in the fervor of their own response.
Somehow, there is an uncontrollable urge to dance in the absence of a dancebeat.
It is a tremendously powerful album, explosive even, but the blast doesn't happen in the music, it happens in your chest.
This is a new-feeling Nick Cave.
He maintains all of his ferocity and lurid appeal, but he magnifies it tenfold by holding it back, controlled.
Instead of giving you the guts you crave, he space-shuttles you out to a spare universe where there is little moving, but the whole space is infused, pulsates with unreleased energy, and fills you.
