Documentairemaker Nick Dominik legde het opnameproces van ‘Skeleton Tree’, het laatste album van Nick Cave And The Bad Seeds vast. In zwartwit beelden weet hij je daar te plaatsen, waar je oognaar kijkt. Alsof onzichtbaar.
In deze clip draagt Nick Cave zijn gedicht ‘Steve McQueen’ voor. De beelden zijn van Nick Dominik. Alles valt samen.
Steve McQueen
Here I am, the moonlight man
With my six-shooter, I’m Steve McQueen
Call me a cab, I’m that kind of guy
I have a dream
Sometimes I get the elevator to the top
Of the Burj-al-Arab
And shoot my guns across Dubai
Bang bang bang, I’m that kind of guy
But mostly I curl up inside my typewriter
Curl up inside my typewriter
And wish that I could die
Your legs are so long, they should come with their own elevator
Don’t worry darling, I’ll be coming around to see you later
Because between you and me and my best friend, the housefly
I’m Steve McQueen with a big, beautiful dream
I am God
I am God thinking about God thinking about Steve McQueen
It’s for me the sirens and the sylphs
Do their twilight binding
On Saturday night, I walk on someone else’s stomach lining
Up and down the street, call me a cab
Call me a cab
Now I’m the housefly called God, and I don’t give a fuck
Here I come up the elevator, 60 floors
Hoping I don’t get stuck
And everyone out here does mean
And everyone out here does pain
But someone’s got to sing the stars
And someone’s got to sing the rain
I’m the atomizer, I’m the vaporizer
I turn everything to crud
I like it here in your flesh and blood
I’m the elevator man, don’t you see?
You’re a spine-lashed long legged lovely young thing
Call me a cab, I’ll drive it to the top of the Burj-al-Arab
And fire my guns across your stomach
Because someone’s got to sing the stars
And someone’s got to sing the rain
And someone’s got to sing the blood
And someone’s got to sing the pain
Watch out, you fuckers
I’ve got my six-shooter and my housefly on a lead
I’m Burj-al-McQueen
And I’m coming to make every last one of you bleed
God is great, chances are
God is good, well I wouldn’t go that far
I’m Steve McQueen, the atrocity man
With my strap on black porn dream
But mostly I curl up inside my typewriter with my housefly and cry
I told my housefly not to cry
My housefly tells me not to die
Because someone’s got to sing the stars
And someone’s got to sing the rain
And someone’s got to sing the blood
And someone’s got to sing the pain
A Fetish For Poetry 