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Nick Cave and the Bad Seeds review – up close and existential with rock’s great everyman

In an expansive, transporting show, the singer-songwriter turned all-round guru reaches for the stars – and anyone within touching distance

Cave spends the lion’s share of his set’s two-hour-plus runtime pacing a narrow catwalk, clasping fingers, being held aloft and singing close into upturned faces, often handing his microphone to strangers to leap about or teach handclap patterns. Photograph: Richard Saker/the ObserverIn a widescreen, generous show designed to privilege heft and awe – lush gospel backing vocals, percussionist Jim Sclavunos on glockenspiel and tubular bells as well as walloping drummer Larry Mullins – it is, ironically, often the little details and detours that chime most resonantly. Contorting into raptures on guitar, electronics and fiddle, Bad Seed MVP Warren Ellis almost upstages his dark lord, flying grey hair and wild beard joined by the wayward strands of a fraying violin bow.

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