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Frenzied, manic, vigour. Nick Cave and Warren Ellis can teach the youngsters a few things about cramming massive helpings of angst and lust into a song and about filling a live set with sweat-drenched energy.
From the opening Mickey Mouse and the Goodbye Man, Cave alternated between leaping around the stage of Dublin’s Vicar Street and prowling it like some predatory lounge lizard. He is the Grinderman—all unbuttoned shirt and thrusting crotch, he looms over the front row, bending down, holding their hands, their heads, pulling them to him. Cave gives …