Are we up to 6 yet?

Nick Cave and the Bad Seeds – Deanna (1988)

What a gloriously shambolic few minutes of sonic pleasure this is. I romanticise its production in my head. It is very late at night in the studio. The last of the horse has been jacked up. Nick suggests they give that new tune a shot. Harvey is together enough to play drums and bass and acoustic, perhaps not a once. Not even he is that good. Blixa sits in the corner and does what Blixa does best – just makes up cool noises. Kid Congo whacks out some riffs and Cave weaves in some great organ sounds and makes up the lyrics as he goes along. They have a big sing-a-long, often out of key, and get it done in three takes. Cave collapses unconscious into the drum kit and sleeps there. A classic is born.

I’m sure there is probably a more accurate account of proceedings out there somewhere but I like my version. The H must have played some part. How else can you explain a line like “I cum a deaths head in your frock”? WTF??? Somebody might be able to point out my ignorance by showing that it is a homage to an obscure French poet from the 19th century but again I like my rock’n’roll version.

For me Deanna marks the beginning of my favourite period of Cave’s work - his angry preacher period. To see him prowl the stage proselytising made you understand the power of the revivalists. He converted me every time. I lit his cigarette one night and for the second I looked into the eyes of the man I was a part of it all. And then he turned away and I think I giggled like a schoolgirl. And so it goes…