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Rating: An entire world encapsulated in just three songs. A wrong, out-of-tune, crooked magic. A distillation of blues, rock, suffering, light, defeats, and Pyrrhic victories. If someone ever asked me to summarize what rock’n’roll means to me, I would probably disappoint them. I wouldn’t serve them Chuck Berry, Elvis, the Motorhead, even if they are the essence and joy of rock for me. I wouldn’t serve them U2 or Springsteen, Lynyrd Skynyrd or Led Zeppelin, even though each in their own way have touched the absolute. I would give them this stupid EP by Nick Cave and Shane McGowan: “What a wonderful world.” Probably making a mistake.
The fact is that these two are true veterans, and this little record is the low tide of rock. What happens when the magical wave recedes leaving only empty beer cans, smashed cigarette butts, and a solitude made up of seedy pubs and rest stops. A wonderful world, right?
Amidst this devastation, two figures shattered by life, an Australian from the provinces and an Irish immigrant who grew up in London's suburbs. One has paid his dues to heroin, the other continues to, I fear, pay his to alcohol. Both will forever pay their dues to the demon, to the six strings that ooze blood.
Together, with tenderness and friendship, they recorded a tiny EP of three songs: the first is a classic, “What a wonderful world” by Louis Armstrong. The other two are a curious exchange: Nick Cave sings “Rainy night in Soho” by Shane, the latter chooses “Lucy” by the Australian.
Two bad types, two hooligans who have spun tales of death and fear, who bravely tread into the devilish crossroads inaugurated by Robert Johnson, risking their lives at every step, immersed in both aural and existential violence. But here they are, now.
Embracing, eyes half-closed. Clinging to the only sense of it all, friendship, affection. A splendid video depicts them together, perched on two pub stools, swaying and tender.
King Ink tackles the rainy night in Soho with delicacy, making it his own. He brings it into his world, as if waiting for nothing else: Shane couldn't do better. The old sponge replies and takes “Lucy” head-on, singing it off-key his way. Nothing remains of it, except the remnants of a love, broken bottles, and rain soaking the trash in an alley. Only Tom Waits is missing in this particular pub, and everything would be perfect. But perhaps it's better this way, I wouldn't have been able to handle the emotion.
I leave the main track for last: “What a wonderful world,” indeed.
Sung by these two ragged figures, it changes its placid meaning and is tarnished. The original serenity becomes something deeper, which perhaps Armstrong himself sensed: his interpretation isn't so peaceful if you listen closely. The two bastard sons of the Commonwealth take this anomaly to the limit: with them, the wonderful world becomes, simply, a missed opportunity.
Happiness is lost, loves decay, life has answered with a spade: we have nothing left but to embrace, drink until we can neither read nor write, and mumble together “what a wonderful world.”
A bit of sarcasm, a bit of regret, a sliver of light, and a drop of pain.
Shake and serve.
Tracklist Samples and Videos
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