No More Shall We Part

In terms of sheer weight alone, the album can almost be a bit crushing. With 12 songs that run nearly 70 minutes of time, Cave takes his time getting there, but you really don't mind.

Occasionally he resembles a Pakistani Bryan Ferry. Is this a good thing? It is if you like Pakistani Bryan Ferrys. [#155, p.70]

No More suffers from a relentless sense of goth gloom that's as claustrophobic as a church confessional. [Jun/Jul 2001, p.107]

What makes 'No More...' Cave's best album since 'Henry's Dream' (which it most clearly resembles), is a return to melodrama (or rather the juxtaposition of melodrama with the album's ballads) where Cave crafts a deliciously potent mix of the visionary, the bizarre and the everyday...

Cave's songs once conjured eternity. Now they just feel like one. [13 Apr 2001, p.76]

While he's an adept moodist (but not a great singer), most often, the tunes are more artifice than art and he fails to make his misery convincing.

A total triumph. [#50, p.82]

Incredibly, No More Shall We Part is as urgent and vital as Cave has ever been.... Raging and delicate, complex as faith and simple as a goodnight kiss, it is an incredible summation of a singular career.

Cave's latest finds the singer in perhaps the finest voice of his career, armed with a set of melodic ballads and mid-tempo rockers which exemplify his dedicated, traditionalist's approach to the songwriter's craft.

Possibly a step forward from The Boatman's Call, but far from being a return to form.

Goddamn if he doesn't sing like a cranky Neil Diamond here...

Melody rarely comes easily, but this is a flamboyantly musical record that creates the perfect backdrop for Cave's theological, metaphysical musings.

Cave has transformed his mournful voice into a thing of wonder...

No More Shall We Part is a beautiful, elegant record, capably fulfilling the promise of The Boatman's Call, but it exacts a harrowing toll from the listener. This is not a record to which you can listen lightly; if used as background music it will gradually darken your mood, like poison seeping slowly into a well.

Another welcome sign of the bright light at the end of Cave's dark tunnel is the involvement of folk sisters Kate and Anna McGarrigle, who not only counterbalance Cave's rich, dramatic baritone, but also demonstrate his continued desire to work with artists outside his usual circle of fiends. Cave has built his coffin and now he has to lie in it, but these tiny stylistic shifts bode well for his future.

A highlty nuanced album which is at once razor sharp, and rich in new openings and possibilities. [#206, p.60]