'I don't believe in the existence of angels
But looking at you I wonder if that's true.'
Last year Madame Noir and I travelled to see him play live in Glasgow. A wonderful experience. I was close enough to reach forward and touch the hem of his velvet flares. As if that were not thrilling enough, we turned out to be staying in the same hotel as the vampiric lothario. The next morning we were checking out. I heard the clatter of a suitcase being dragged across a marble floor. I turned and saw Senor Cave striding out the hotel doors. He oozed sex and was effortlessly stylish in his black suit. But something was wrong. I couldn't quite put my finger on it, until Madame Noir, in a Brian Blessed stage-whisper bellowed, 'Oh my God. He's wearing a fucking hair net!!!' And it pains me to admit it, but he was!
I think I romanticised Senor Boldon during our short relationship. I considered his silence, his morose and introverted nature quite enchanting. I thought it hid deep and passionate feelings. One glorious spring day went on a trip to Alnmouth, a favourite place of mine. He was playing a CD that his brother had made for him (ironically, the brother who would also later break my heart). On the journey the grumpy burger baron declared there was a Nick Cave track on the CD which made him think of me. He considered it to be my 'theme tune' . I was touched by this, and couldn't wait to see which Cave song it was. I was hoping for a love song from The Boatman's Call (my favourite album of all time). Finally the track came round. I was perplexed. I hadn't heard it before. And was that really Kylie singing on it? 'It's called Death is Not the End' growled Senor Boldon. 'I chose it because you're so fucking morbid.'