Nick Cave
Australian musician, songwriter, poet, author and actor.
Pilgrim gets 1 hacked daughter,
And all we get are 40 hack reporters,
Uptown 100 skirts are bleeding,
And Mr. Evangilist says She's hit, ev'ry little bit.
The mo-o-o-on, its huge cycloptic eye,
Watches the city streets contract, twist and cripple and crack.
God is in everything whether I’m mentioning him or not.
There was one review [of Stadium Arcadium] by an English newspaper where the guy really hated us and it was full of insults and descriptions about how terrible and worthless we are and how inane our music is. The guy mentioned that Nick Cave really thought we were a shitty band and printed a quote that Nick Cave had said in that regard. For a second that hurt my feelings because I love Nick Cave. I have all of his records. I don't care if Nick Cave hates my band because his music means everything to me and he is one of my favourite songwriters and singers and musicians of all time. I love all the incarnations of the Bad Seeds. But it only hurt my feelings for a second because my love for his music is bigger than all that shit and if he thinks my band is lame then that's OK.
Oh! God! Please let me die beneath her fists!
The concept of God in America is very different than it is in England. Because we see the horrendous outcome of religion as being an American thing, in which the name of God has been hijacked by a gang of psychopaths and bullies and homophobes, and the name of God has been used for their own twisted agendas. So that if you mention God, or a belief in God, in England, it's almost automatically associated with that kind of thinking. Religion's gotten a really bad name.
I just made a simple gesture,
They jumped up and nailed it to my shadow,
My gesture was a hooker,
You know, my shadow's made of timber.
Ah read her diary on her sheets,
Scrutinizin' every lil' piece of dirt,
Tore out a page'n'stufft it inside my shirt.
Fled outa the window,
And shinning it down the vine,
Outa her night-mare, and back into mine.
I listen to his records and go to his concerts. That's the greatest compliment I can pay an artist.
Looka yonder! Looka yonder! A big black cloud come!