It’s been a full 20 years since the first live album from the consistently prolific Nick Cave and The Bad Seeds. Opening with a deranged version of ‘The Mercy Seat’ (about a condemned prisoner awaiting the electric chair), 1993’s Live Seeds was largely a noisy, punkish affair, driven by the aggressive crunchy guitars of Blixa Bargeld and Mick Harvey. You could practically smell the sweat and saliva. A slightly mellower version of the same song appeared on 1997’s Live At The Royal Albert Hall.
‘The Mercy Seat’ didn’t make the cut on their third offi cial live album, 2007’s The Abattoir Blues Tour, but the take on Live From KCRW – recorded earlier this year in front of a small audience in the studios of the titular Californian radio station – is so reworked as to be almost unrecognisable.
The protagonist is no longer raging against the system that’s sentenced him to death; instead, Cave’s spooky vocal is tinged with sorrow and regret. Of course, Bargeld and Harvey are no longer in the band, which may account for the slowing of pace. There’s also the fact that Cave himself is now in his fi fties. No longer a snarling, drug-fuelled rocker, he’s very much a literary balladeer these days – though as raunchy album closer ‘Jack The Ripper’ demonstrates, he can still kick against the pricks when he wants to.
For the most part, this is a rich, semi-acoustic affair, showcasing some truly superb musicianship and Cave’s deep baritone. The Bad Seeds have always been an ever-changing cast anyway, but only four of them play here – Warren Ellis on guitar, Martyn Casey on bass, Jim Sclavunos on percussion and, welcomed back into the fold after a long solo hiatus, Barry Adamson on organ. Live At KCRW opens with ‘Higs Boson Blues’, played almost exactly the way it’s played on their most recent studio album Push The Sky Away, but other songs are reinterpreted to suit these stripped down Seeds.
Despite his fearsome reputation, Cave actually has a wicked sense of humour. At one point here, he calls out to the audience, “What else?”
Various people in the crowd call out their requests. There’s a moment’s silence before the singer drolly comments, “Yeah… eventually you’ll say one of the songs on this very short list here.”
They play four songs from the new album, the haunting title-track probably being the best realised of them, despite the absence of a female backing vocalist. The other six range from the darkly gothic ‘Stranger Than Kindness’ (from 1986’s Your Funeral… My Trial) to a superb version of ‘People Ain’t No Good’ (from 1997’s classic The Boatman’s Call) to an unspeakably sad ‘And No More Shall We Part’ (the title track of their 2001 release).
If you’re a fan, this will be a most welcome addition to your Cave collection. “Thank you very much – you’ve been fantastic!” he says by way of farewell. Ditto.

Key Track: 'The Mercy Seat'