•
Rating: 1990. Brazil. It rains again on the martyr who has just laid down the crown. The sky sheds tears again, haunting the newly converted son. A contradiction. One of many.
The line that separates the sacred from its opposite is elusive. Nick Cave knows this well, singer-songwriter and lyricist, sinner and mystic, dweller of the underground and climber of the sky. What is the opposite of the sacred called? Look for the word: you won't find it. Perhaps you can adapt terms that are not the opposite of the sacred, but instead presuppose it: blasphemous, or secular, profane... The sacred has no opposite. It is already in itself a line of separation, an ambiguous and precarious boundary that separates and unites two opposites: disorder and order, nothing and everything, diabolical and divine.
The album hovers on that boundary: the most uncompromising fans of the time will snub it for its too relaxed and clean sound, accustomed to the noisy forays into the infernos of previous albums (tender prey above all), only to later exhume this work over the years like an old skeleton out of the closet. But it is the Australian author who has changed here: he has just detoxed from heroin, and after the orgy of negative realities, the religious need for redemption or the desire to clearly pronounce the lofty words of pain is tangible.
The Bad Seeds thus ferry the "ink king" into a purgatory of poignant repentance, absorbed in the desperate attempt to recover fragments of meaning that a work of art must have and that often cannot be grasped. They accompany him with majestic and grandiose arrangements, like a prodigal son who was lost in ancestral abysses, but now returns on his knees among majestic hymns and moving choirs that open his personal Calvary among the ghosts that haunt him. The ceremony continues amid arcane dances and poignant, solemn laments, to conclude with a blessing that has the taste of love, but plunges the knife into the wound like a universal judgment from which there is no escape.
Amen.
The divine and the diabolical plummet, existing within each other: each must function as a mirror on whose surface the other is reflected. Instead, an impossible desire for unity, for redemption, must be reflected. A desire supported by a consciousness of guilt darker and more deathly than ever before, drowning in the twilight of an absolution to be pursued.
An album with not exceptional longevity, perhaps because there is a morbid need to consume it quickly: the seductive temptation in front of a perfect work; perhaps too perfect.
Tracklist Lyrics and Videos
04 The Weeping Song (04:24)
Go son, go down to the water
And see the women weeping there
Then go up into the mountains
The men, they are weeping too
Father, why are all the women weeping?
They are weeping for their men
Then why are all the men there weeping?
They are weeping back at them
This is a weeping song
A song in which to weep
While all the men and women sleep
This is a weeping song
But I won't be weeping long
Father, why are all the children weeping?
They are merely crying son
O, are they merely crying, father?
Yes, true weeping is yet to come
This is a weeping song
A song in which to weep
While all the men and children sleep
This is a weeping song
But I won't be weeping long
O father tell me, are you weeping?
Your face seems wet to touch
O then I'm so sorry, father
I never thought I hurt you so much
This is a weeping song
A song in which to weep
While we rock ourselves to sleep
This is a weeping song
But I won't be weeping long
No I won't be weeping long
No I won't be weeping long
No I won't be weeping long
07 Lament (04:54)
I've seen your fairground hair,
your seaside eyes
Your vampire tooth, your little truth
Your tiny lies
I know your trembling hand, your guilty prize
Your sleeping limbs, your foreign hymns
Your midnight cries
So dry your eyes
And turn your head away
Now there's nothing more to say
Now you're gone away
I know your trail of tears, your slip of hand
Your monkey paw, your monkey claw
And your monkey hand
I've seen your trick of blood, your trap of fire
Your ancient wound, your scarlet moon
And your jailhouse smile
So dry your eyes
And turn your head away
Now there's nothing more to say
Now you're gone away
I'll miss your urchin smile, your orphan tears
Your shining prize, your tiny cries
Your little fears
I'll miss your fairground hair, your seaside eyes
Your vampire tooth, your little truth
And your tiny lies
So dry your eyes
And turn your head away
Now there's nothing more to say
Now you're gone away
(Repeat)
09 Lucy (04:20)
Last night I lay trembling
The moon it was low
It was the end of love
Of misery and woe
The suddenly above me
Her face buried in light
Came a vision of beauty
All covered in white
Now the bell-tower is ringing
And the night has stole past
O Lucy, can you hear me?
Wherever you rest
I'll love her forever
I'll love her for all time
I'll love her till the stars
Fall down from the sky
Now the bell-tower is ringing
And I shake on the floor
O Lucy, can you hear me?
When I call and call
Now the bell-tower is ringing
And the moon it is high
O Lucy, can you hear me
When I cry and cry and cry
Loading comments slowly
Other reviews
By Bleach
"The Good Son is in every way the album of Christian rebirth, a unique album in his production, which breaks with the past and opens a new door of light and hope."
"It is an absolute must-have in the collection of a music enthusiast, one of the greatest albums in history."
