The Sermon On The Mount

Wednesday night, September 17th, 2008
The tickets had made themselves available at the last minute. And now, like a lamb to the slaughter, I was led to my paddock just a breath away from the left lip of the gaping maw of the beast known as the Hollywood Bowl. The balladeer of blood, broads and bullets was in town to sell his snake-oil sermon of death and impending doom. This was to be my first attendance at Mr. Cave's sermon on the mount. I was to share the paddock with two hapless foreigners from the Queen's country who reeked of cologne and were sporting golden brown perma-tans, one of them having been in attendance of this type of service before. "He's the real deal", said the one on the right.
Within minutes of my arrival, Nick Cave and the Bad Seeds strolled onto the stage to uproarious applause from their followers and kicked things off with Night of The Lotus Eaters, followed by Dig, Lazarus Dig!!! and Tupelo...They were very well obviously off and running. Three songs in, and they weren't taking any prisoners. I eyed the foreboding crimson numerals 60:00 off to stage right, hiding behind the monitors. What did they mean? I didn't care.
Just then, Nick Cave addressed his flock: "Hello, Los Angeleez! This next song is a song Hollywood made famous." The hairs on the back of my neck stood on end as the resonating bell of fate tolled for us all through the immutable strains of Red Right Hand!!! A very personal favorite, evoking some of the darkest imagery ever laid bare in song. I grinned from ear to ear as fire and brimstone filled the air.
To calm us down for a couple minutes, Mr. Cave sat behind his piano to sing about a former lover. A song both so beautiful and subtly unnerving, "Into My Arms". Check it out if you haven't already. Great stuff!!!
Just around this time the crimson numerals off to the side had already begun counting down!!! I now knew what they meant, but I didn't want to accept it. A few more songs in and Cave and the Bad Seeds put us through our paces with Deanna, a song about cum and blood and guns and murder and moths and frocks. Alot to take in, but no one said this was a pansy-ass Josh Groban concert!!!
Song upon murderous song assaulted and groped us, yet made us squeal. So intense was the attack that I spotted Mr. Cave briefly run to the side of the stage on a couple of occasions to huff on some much needed oxygen. After all, the preacher-man stayed in his suit for the whole show. At about the time the crimson numerals read 5:30, Mr. Cave said "It appears we have some time issues, so we'll pretend that you've already asked for an encore." This being said, the band ripped into Hard On For Love, an obviously romantic song about life-long passions and what-not.
But nothing could prepare us for the motherfuck-laden saga of the motherfuckin' bad-ass
known as Stagger motherfucking Lee to bring this sermon to a close.
There had been mirth, there had been mayhem, and there had been murder. A full course meal for all us sinners in attendance. We filed out of the Hollywood Bowl and into the Los Angeles night in search of tales such as the ones we had just been told. Either as witnesses or participants. Only time, and our wicked minds knew for sure...