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Nick Cave has never been shy to indulge his rapacious appetites - sonically, addictively or personally, and just when we thought he was settling comfortably into middle age with increasingly mellow Bad Seeds albums, in 2007 he got down and dirty and sprung his newest side project, Grinderman, on us.
When I say "down and dirty", I really mean it. The music is filthy-raw blues, improvised in the studio. The lyrics match his moustachioed neighbourhood-creepy-guy look with their pervy intensity, and it's easily the most pernicious and overtly smutty major label release I've heard this year.
Sleaze is the byword here, but not celebratory, joyous, sexy sleaze – this is creepy, porny, pervy sleaze, as Cave and his Bad Seeds compatriots Warren Ellis, Jim Sclavunos and Martyn Casey give voice to their darkest thoughts – thoughts that most of us leave lurking in the darkness never to be admitted to, for fear of derision and loathing.
Grinderman takes the blueprint of its predecessor and sets up shop in an adult cinema, supplying a soundtrack for perverts and pornstars, paedophiles and prick teasers - your first hint as to the direction of this record should be the cover photo of hungry threatening wolf sneering lecherously in an immaculate white marbled house, and in Grinderman Cave has found the perfect vehicle to molest the mainstream from inside it’s own comfort zone.
Dirty and despicable, this album will make you feel like you need a good scrub to cleanse yourself after listening. Highly recommended.
