Traditionally, B-sides are regarded as a waste of space: a home for offcuts, tracks rejected for albums, remixes, alternate versions and inferior cover versions. Mostly, it's difficult to argue with that line of thinking, too, and unfortunately your reviewer's bunker is indeed creaking with much forgettable dross that's accumulated in the name of the hastily tossed-off B-side.
But this writer has always believed that the best bands operating out there have treated the humble B-side with the respect it deserves. If you want proof, search out The Jam, The Smiths, The Fall, XTC, Magazine, Squeeze, Buzzcocks, Stiff Little Fingers and even The Stones (at least until the mid -70s) respective back catalogues and marvel. Believe me, if you've never tried these bands' flipsides you're in for a treat, and if you do you'll realise there are those out there who've forged careers steeped in longevity who've embraced the poor old B-side and used it as another welcome opportunity to remind their fans why they should continue to stick with them.
Certainly this is the case with NICK CAVE and his darker than dark henchmen THE BAD SEEDS, who over the course of 21 years have amassed a considerable vault of riches, many of which have since been deleted in their original forms. OK, I'm not suggesting these lesser-known jewels shine with quite the same lustre as the Seeds' better known singles and albums, but - clocking in at a staggering 56 tracks across three generously-appointed CDS - "B-Sides And Rarities" amounts to a fascinating alternative history in itself and suggests Cave and his cohorts regard virtually all their work with the same professional gravitas.
The three CDS are arranged more or less chronologically, with each representing a distinct period in Cave's history. CD1 covers the Bad Seeds' early years, while heroin was still on the menu and Cave had the Delta blues hellhound on his trail. Tracks like "The Moon Is In The Gutter" ("In The Ghetto"s flip if you recall) is quintessential early period Cave with Barry Adamson's prowling bass and Blixa Bargeld's ratchety guitar hacking away like a bronchial cough. It's primitive and edgy, but not half as nasty as the notorious "Scum" - a sludgy profanity given away on a flexi at the band's gigs circa "Your Funeral, My Trial" - or as primal as the cover of Leadbelly's "Black Betty", which is transformed into grunting a capella worksong, like a dirtier form of the blues The Doors tapped into with "My Wild Love."
Elsewhere, the acoustic version of "City Of Refuge" invokes the spirit of the song's inspiration - Blind Willie Johnson's 1928 recording of "I'm Gonna Run To The City Of Refuge" - rather than the malevolent, Joy Division-ish rumble of the "Tender Prey" album version, while Cave the crooner is represented by the Bad Seeds' stately'n'credible cover of Neil Young's "Helpless" and a waywardly enjoyable version of Roy Orbison's "Running Scared" from the "Kicking Against The Pricks" era.
Disc 2 broadly covers Nick Cave: the 1990s workaholic years. There are surprises aplenty here, with several other Bad Seeds taking surprise turns at the mic alongside Nick. "The Willow Garden", for example, is a murkily atmospheric beauty (well, Ok, it's a murder ballad) sung impressively by pianist Conway Savage and punctuated by Warren Ellis's gorgeously expressive violin. Equally enjoyable is an early version of "Where The Wild Roses Grow" with Blixa's none-more-ghostly vocals taking the Kylie part. Excellent.
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Aguably less successful are Cave's collaborations with Shane MacGowan. Their take of "What A Wonderful World" is extremely shaky, while letting Shane loose on "Lucy" is questionable at best. Rather better is the Nick/ Shane duet on "Rainy Night In Soho", but at the same time you're kinda relieved when Shane relinquishes his guest spot and the Bad Seeds pile into a pared-down and evil acoustic version of the apocalyptic "Jack The Ripper". Later on, CD2 really perks up with the Radio Session version of "O'Malley's Bar" (in three parts plus a reprise), which is surely pop's very own Hungerford massacre in its' own right. Even better is the 'Scream 3' OST version of "Red Right Hand", which offers new verses from Cave, Barry Adamson (briefly) returning to relieve Martyn Casey of the bass and the song getting couched in an icily atmospheric orchestral score.
CD3, though, is perhaps the most consistent set, taking in forgotten highlights from the "Boatman's Call" period up to the present day. "Little Empty Boat" is gently portentous on the outside, but actually finds room for some welcome humour from Nick ("I am the resurrection and you're standing on my foot"). It's great, as is the hipswingin' "Come Into My Sleep", with its' groovy organ and touches of Brian Jones-y marimba. The celebratory "Babe, I've Got You Bad" and two unreleased cuts ("Sheep May Safely Graze" and the surprisingly perky "Opium Tea") suddenly make you realise "The Boatman's Call" could easily have swelled to a double album.
Moving forward a little, Cave rediscovers his former gleeful abandon with a wild and playful strut through "I Feel So Good" from Wim Wenders' "The Soul Of Man" film and goes from subtle whisper to maniacal intensity on the mighty "Swing Low". Then we come full circle, with a couple of great cuts from the "Nocturama" period (not least the slow and deathly "Little Ghost Song") and the rowdy, rough-house rumble of "She's Leaving You" from the recent "Abbatoir Blues" tour de force. It's a timely reminder that however literary Cave can be, he still knows how to raise thunder with the best of them.
So there you have it: 56 tracks and - with the exception of the occasional dog plop like the ridiculous "That's What Jazz Is To Me" - remarkably little slack. But then that's why Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds have consistently been one of our very best bands over the past 20 years because they even approach their obscurities like they're the last song they'll ever record. It all adds up to a stunning alternative history most of us had forgotten ever existed and reminds us that the Devil keeps a healthy stock of great tunes for flipsides on his jukebox as well.
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