Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds – Let Love In / Murder Ballads / The Boatman's Call / No More Shall We Part

It’s business as usual for the latest instalment in Mute’s ongoing Bad Seeds reissue campaign that documents the, ahem, Evolution of the Cave-man. In other words, startling reminders of half-forgotten gems for long term Nick Cave fans and an eye-opening opportunity to bask in the majesty of prime Bad Seeds for newcomers.

It’s hard to think of another artist who could match Nick Cave’s gradual ascension from the near-universal disdain The Birthday Party – Cave’s early, notoriously unhealthy swamp-blues unit – were met with to the kind of liberal superlative-sampling that’s welcomed his last few releases.

Mute’s ongoing Nick Cave and The Bad Seeds reissue campaign – with all Bad Seeds albums bar 1993′s onstage Live Seeds remixed, remastered and expanded with B-sides, videos and short films about their creation – has done a brilliant job of documenting this gradual change in Cave’s fortunes. This latest chapter in the campaign is no exception. The previous instalment, covering Tender Prey (1988), The Good Son (1990) and Henry’s Dream (1992), mapped a phase during which the Australian songwriter and his trusted collaborators turned conclusively from drug-damaged chaos merchants into a class act capable of both startlingly strong songcraft and uniquely expressive musicianship. These four albums showcase how Cave and The Bad Seeds sealed the deal with their ever-growing audience.

Let Love In might just be the pick of the bunch, it’s overwhelming abundance of ideas, energy and steely intent proving a dizzyingly rich listening experience. The album also established a blueprint for such diverse latter-day Bad Seeds K.O.s as ‘Dig Lazarus Dig’ with its seamless mix of ominously funky epics (‘Loverman’, ‘Red Right Hand’), demented screamers (‘Jangling Jack’) and graceful weepers (‘Nobody’s Baby Now’).

After the creative peak of its predecessor, Murder Ballads was the Bad Seeds’ stab at that dreaded visitor to lengthy discographies – the concept album. There’s little evidence of frown-favouring overreaching here, however, as the band race through tracks devoted entirely to blood-splattered carnage. Beyond the hit duets (‘Where The Wild Roses Grow’, ‘Henry Lee’) and the heroically grotesque update of ancient US folk/blues staple ‘Stagger Lee’ lies an album that’s much more nuanced than its gun-blasting, knife-wielding reputation suggests.

After the free-for-all rampage of Murder Ballads, The Boatman’s Call represented a total U-turn. As near to a solo album as Nick Cave’s ever come, these by turn regretful and bitter ballads – this one’s a real treat to anyone allergic to speedy tempos – saw Cave turn his hand at a seemingly obligatory ritual for any songwriter with staying power – the Break-Up Album. A fine totem to heartbreak it is too, with the strongest songs (‘Are You The One That I’ve Been Waiting For’ especially) proving indelibly beautiful and The Bad Seeds providing sympathetically unobtrusive, atmospheric decorations as and when required.

What followed was an extended bout of writer’s block, necessitating a four year wait before 2001′s No More Shall We Part. Enriched by backing vocals from Canadian folk singers Kate and Anna McGarrigle and Warren Ellis’ by turns mournful and eerie violin, the album sounds stunning, but it’s burdened by one too many uneventful ballads. Even so, the highlights – the shiver-inducing ‘Love Letter’, the swaggering ‘Fifteen Feet of Pure White Snow’ – are 100% essential additions to any Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds collection.