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The letters of Nick Cave and Enrique Bunbury | Culture

by News Room
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In 2018, Nick Cave opened a communication channel with his followers. He receives your emails and answers one weekly. Is called The Red Hand Files and now defines it as “a strange exercise in community vulnerability and transparency.” Belying his reputation as a Tasmanian devil, Cave responds sensibly, with his hand over his heart. And she even shares some anecdotes.

Last week, I remembered a meeting with Bryan Ferry. Despite the aesthetic distances, Cave admires the founder of Roxy Music, especially for his ability to compose “tormented songs with lyrics as audacious as they are unusual.” It turns out that Nick’s wife is a friend of Ferry’s wife; She invites them to spend a weekend at her country mansion in West Sussex.

The residence is more impressive than expected: forests, orchards, gardens, mares. The next day, Nick explores on his own, carrying a notepad, and arrives at a pool hidden in hedges. He relaxes and becomes sleepy. Suddenly, he feels that there is someone else and opens his eyes. Although he was supposed to be out, Ferry has shown up in a swimsuit.

Here comes the strong part. Bryan looks enviously at Nick’s pad and laments, “I haven’t written a song in three years.” The bewildered guest asks, “why?” Ferry covers everything around him and confesses: “There is nothing worth writing about.” And he dives into the pool.

Ah, the millionaire blues: the story is even too perfect, Nick. Excuse me, today I wanted to talk about another initiative that its author recognizes as inspired by the Red Hand Archives. In 2023, Enrique Bunbury opened a similar correspondence with his fans. The result has been wrapped in hardcover under the title of The letter (Books).

The book is… strange. One follows Bunbury, among other reasons, because of the intensity of his enthusiasms and the outbursts of him. Here we come across Enrique El Diplomático. He begins many of his answers with phrases like “I really appreciate your insights” or “what a wonderful question!” In reality, stripped of the appreciable confessional element, the queries tend towards the elementary, to issues that a serious fan should have already overcome. They may follow the example of Bunbury himself, who claims that he barely reads his reviews and, certainly, not the books about his career (now, now).

We are in the country of The world is great. Yes, he regrets never having played in Bolivia. Of course, I could collaborate with Rosalía or C. Tangana. No, he wouldn’t give a damn biopic or a series about him, as long as it is directed by Tarantino and stars Brad Pitt (heydon’t underestimate the clever sense of humor).

Among the torrent of interpellations, no reference to the ancient habit of samplear occurrences of other people’s verses, and there is a lot of talk about his poetry collections, MicroDosis y Exilio Topanga. In truth, what seems to obsess the troops bunburiana It is the future of their first group, Héroes del Silencio, who they want to see live. To be rock fans, it is surprising that they do not know the internal dynamics of successful groups, with members subjected to centrifugal forces that are only overcome with the promise of a heel with many zeros.

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