Nick Cave, Showbox SoDo, Seattle. September 23rd, 2008. Photo by Cherrybomb’s iPhone.

Cherrybomb got up close and personal with Nick Cave and the Bad Seeds last night at the Showbox, SoDo in Seattle. Cave delivered a performance not unlike a fervent preacher might deliver Sunday Mass to a church full of Saturday night sinners. Of course, when Nick Cave gets up on the pulpit, the sermon is laced with profanity, stories about Lazarus and Leviticus, and the refusal to repent after confessing to a getting a hard-on, in the name of love. Now that’s the kind of preaching that would get even Cherrybomb herself to church. Cave masterfully worked his way through his new Bad Seed’s release, Dig!!! Lazarus, DIG!!! as well as plenty of vintage material like Stagger Lee, from 1996’s Murder Ballads, Get Ready for Love from 2004’s Abattoir Blues, and my personal show highlight, Hard on for Love from 1986’s Your Funeral…My Trial. (sorry folks, I was dreamin’ when I said Nick played Green Eyes, Nick will do that to you.)

If you don’t have tickets for tonight, as of this writing, there are still a few listed on Craig’s List.

If you do head out to SoDo tonight, I feel obligated to give you a heads up about the venue. More so, about some of the Security staff that work at Showbox SoDo, than the venue itself. It’s something I like to call:

What the fuck is up with the Security staff at The Showbox in SoDo…???

From the minute I stepped inside the venue both myself and my handsome companion were hassled by a bouncer at the door. And when I say hassled, I mean yelled at for not moving fast enough up the empty stairs, into the uncrowded lounge. Not once but twice. When someone yells at me to “KEEP MOVING” there better be a fucking fire. Or a crowd. There were neither. Anyway, about 30 minutes later, I met two foxy members of Team Cherrybomb at the door so I could give them their tickets. The same bouncer was now yelling at some 50-something guy about the bag he was carrying as if he was working for Homeland Security saying loudly, “if there is something in this bag that hurts me there is gonna be trouble.”, followed by the standard “DO YOU UNDERSTAND ME?”. According to my foxy duo, this tirade kept the line to get in, outside for around 10 minutes. I’m telling you, this guy looked about as dangerous as a box of wet matches. He was soft-spoken and not at any time belligerent or combative.

The final blow of over-zealous-SoDo-security-terrorism came about six songs deep into Cave’s set. Cherrybomb’s Ace, The Mad Irish Man (who isn’t really angry, just mad. There’s a difference.), was bounced out for a “Code 3″ violation. A Code 3 equates “fighting” in the world of bouncing. Which was complete bullshit. The entire time, Irish was a couple of arm-lengths from me (and about 10 feet from the stage). He was rockin’ and swaying with a crowd of like-minded revelers, truly in the moment. Nobody was pushing, nobody was complaining and for sure, nobody was perpetrating a Code 3. There were no less than four bouncers to my left who were sharply hawking the group that my Irish friend was in. Then, suddenly, two of the LAPD officers in training, pushed their way into the crowd, grabbed Irish by the shirt and ejected him without a warning or explanation. Irish was later told about his supposed Code 3 by a friend of his who also works the door, which really made him pretty fucked-off about the whole situation. And rightfully so. Anyway, my recollection of the “situation” is crystal, as for a change I was remarkably sober last night. If you’re going to SoDo toinght my advice to you is, have a good time, but don’t have too much of a good time. Or you’ll be out on the street.