Nick Cave's set at Fremantle Park in Perth was an unforgettable experience, with the 68-year-old frontman delivering a blistering performance that showcased his enduring energy and emotional depth. As he launched into the brooding title track of his latest album, Wild God, it was clear that this tour marked a pivotal moment in Cave's career - one that saw him reunite with his full band after an introspective period that had yielded some of his most deeply personal work.
Cave's live show is always a masterclass in theatricality and emotional manipulation, but tonight he took the cake. With his trademark swagger and intensity, he tore through the setlist with a precision and passion that left the audience - a sea of almost 10,000 people - utterly entranced. From the early days of O Children to the more recent Wild God material, Cave's voice soared on tracks like Tupelo, its gospel-tinged rhythms and pulsing energy conjuring up images of Southern American churches and ancient rituals.
One of the most striking moments came when Cave pranced across the stage, microphone in hand, as he led a rapturous call-and-response with the crowd on "cry, cry, cry". The whole performance was infused with a sense of urgency and release - Cave's voice cracked with emotion as he sang of love, pain, and the search for meaning. This was no mere rock show; it was a deeply spiritual experience that left even the hardened veteran audience members gasping for breath.
The staging was also noteworthy tonight. A narrow runway stretched across the front of the stage, drawing Cave into the crowd with an intimacy and immediacy that made the whole performance feel like a kind of communal ritual. The lights flashed in gold, green, and red - stark, debossed lettering blazing across the screens behind Cave as he sang lines from Wild God's title track.
For all its intensity, however, tonight's set was also strangely fragile - a reflection of Cave's own experiences with loss and grief. Tracks like Bright Horses (2019) and Joy (2024) offered glimpses into his emotional landscape - a world shaped by love, pain, and the exhaustion of seeing the world as it is. It was this very vulnerability that made the performance so compelling, too; Cave's voice remained steady but fragile on these tracks, conveying a sense of desperation and longing that left even the most hardened audience members moved to tears.
As the encore drew to a close, Cave returned alone to the piano for Into My Arms - a song he'd written decades ago about his relationship with his late son Arthur. The performance was quiet and introspective, but also possessed an unshakeable sense of conviction - a testament to Cave's unwavering faith in the power of music to transcend our limitations and speak directly to the human heart.
It's performances like this that remind us why Nick Cave remains one of rock's most compelling figures. For all his bravado and intensity, he's also an artist deeply attuned to the fragility and beauty of human emotion - a man who has spent decades exploring the darkest depths of the human experience in search of something more profound, more beautiful. And tonight, at Fremantle Park, he gave us that something back - a fleeting glimpse into a world both wild and divine.
Cave's live show is always a masterclass in theatricality and emotional manipulation, but tonight he took the cake. With his trademark swagger and intensity, he tore through the setlist with a precision and passion that left the audience - a sea of almost 10,000 people - utterly entranced. From the early days of O Children to the more recent Wild God material, Cave's voice soared on tracks like Tupelo, its gospel-tinged rhythms and pulsing energy conjuring up images of Southern American churches and ancient rituals.
One of the most striking moments came when Cave pranced across the stage, microphone in hand, as he led a rapturous call-and-response with the crowd on "cry, cry, cry". The whole performance was infused with a sense of urgency and release - Cave's voice cracked with emotion as he sang of love, pain, and the search for meaning. This was no mere rock show; it was a deeply spiritual experience that left even the hardened veteran audience members gasping for breath.
The staging was also noteworthy tonight. A narrow runway stretched across the front of the stage, drawing Cave into the crowd with an intimacy and immediacy that made the whole performance feel like a kind of communal ritual. The lights flashed in gold, green, and red - stark, debossed lettering blazing across the screens behind Cave as he sang lines from Wild God's title track.
For all its intensity, however, tonight's set was also strangely fragile - a reflection of Cave's own experiences with loss and grief. Tracks like Bright Horses (2019) and Joy (2024) offered glimpses into his emotional landscape - a world shaped by love, pain, and the exhaustion of seeing the world as it is. It was this very vulnerability that made the performance so compelling, too; Cave's voice remained steady but fragile on these tracks, conveying a sense of desperation and longing that left even the most hardened audience members moved to tears.
As the encore drew to a close, Cave returned alone to the piano for Into My Arms - a song he'd written decades ago about his relationship with his late son Arthur. The performance was quiet and introspective, but also possessed an unshakeable sense of conviction - a testament to Cave's unwavering faith in the power of music to transcend our limitations and speak directly to the human heart.
It's performances like this that remind us why Nick Cave remains one of rock's most compelling figures. For all his bravado and intensity, he's also an artist deeply attuned to the fragility and beauty of human emotion - a man who has spent decades exploring the darkest depths of the human experience in search of something more profound, more beautiful. And tonight, at Fremantle Park, he gave us that something back - a fleeting glimpse into a world both wild and divine.