Yahoo! Music Album Review

Released on 13/03/06
Label: Mute

What does Nick Cave dream about, do you think? Does this musician, poet, scriptwriter and all round renaissance man enjoy a calm, quiet slumber, untroubled by the demons and dark vistas that colour so much of his creative work? Or are his dreams fraught Bosch-ian nightmares, populated by cries of betrayal and bloodied souls? And when Cave does dream, what words slip subconsciously from his lips? What sounds?

Under normal circumstances, a collaboration between Nick Cave and Warren Ellis (of The Dirty Three and The Bad Seeds), would be a cause for celebration in itself. The don of the taut, gothic drama in league with the man who can squeeze death and nature from the strings of his violin - it's a partnership that promises so much more than when Ellis operates as Cave's employee. But the prospect of them working on the soundtrack for a dark Australian western penned by Cave is even more exciting. Sonically, this is Ellis' territory - the vast open spaces, the judgemental elements. Where will he lead Cave now he's been given the chance?

The answer appears to be to the troubled heart of Australian folklore, to a place belonging to a collective subconscious that far predates the colonisers and their bid to "civilise" what they didn't understand. One song - "The Rider", in three segments - feels like a conversation between ghosts, part incantation, part whispered warning, a terrible truth lurking just behind the shadows. "Down To The Valley" and "Gun Thing", meanwhile, would be straightforward tragic Americana in other hands, but here - via Ellis' brooding violin - appear to have mournful spirits and echoes of past misdeeds hovering in the background.

Many of the songs are instrumental fragments, of course, designed to match the action onscreen. "Road To Banyon" feels like a dusty engine spluttering in its attempt to fire into life. "The Proposition" (also in three parts), is feral and vibrant, Ellis' violin this time dripping with blood. "Sad Violin Thing" is exactly that. Individually, they offer sketches or hints of what they might be mirroring, but together they offer a vivid portrait of a land being lost, all burnt wood and plaint splatters.

And what does Nick Cave dream of? Just listen to "Ghost Thing", where the spirits invoked by the story steal into his slumbering consciousness and he communicates simply with moans and sighs and groans, this most literate of men telling a story without "civilised" language. It's strange, unsettling listening, yet entirely compelling, and you're left thinking that if the film's half as evocative as the soundtrack, it'll be a masterpiece. A triumph - for Cave the writer, and Ellis the storyteller.

    by Ian Watson