Nick Cave has a new album out, which I finally bought thanks to Swiss Adam's reminders. And it's pretty good, and a bit more upbeat than his last few (understandly) harrowing offerings.
However, it's one of those earlier songs which keeps popping into my mind lately, specifically whenever I'm doing the hoovering.
I've noticed that the sound of our hoover (which is one of those fancy Dyson ones with a laser on the front, since Louise thought it was amazing to light up every particle of dust on the floor) always makes me feel slightly uneasy. It's like it triggers something in my subconscious, reminding me of a bad dream of some disturbing, repressed memory.
Then the other day, I worked out why that was...
The drone of the hoover alternates between two high-pitched whines that sound (in my brain, at least) exactly like the ambient whirl of Jesus Alone, the opening track of Skeleton Tree, the album Nick released immediately after the death of his son, Arthur. It's a powerful record, and one which mesmerized me at the time, but it's anything but a comfortable listen, and not an album I ever find myself revisiting for the purposes of relaxation or feel-good nostalgia. Now though, every time I vacuum, the feelings it engendered return, and maybe that's a good thing. Maybe music should make us confront all our emotions, not just the ones we find uplifting.
Or maybe I just need to get Sam to take over the hoovering...
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