Live Review: Conversations With Nick Cave

“If my young self could see me now,” Nick Cave says, “he'd probably be rolling his dilated pupils.” Cave's musical output has often obscured his humour and self-awareness, but he displays both in abundance tonight.

In the three-hour question and answer session, that level of self-awareness eludes many audience members. Questioner after questioner begins with anecdotes of how they discovered and fell in love with his music, but Cave proves an adept host. He graciously accepts their compliments and adoration, redirects the more protracted ramblings and produces thoughtful answers to questions that range from the profound to the trivial.

At times he seems like a life coach dispensing wisdom accrued through the years, with advice for young bands (“fuck the industry”), those who are grieving (it'll get better), and a young man in the front row suffering from mood swings (download Sam Harris' meditation app). But the most rewarding moments come when he talks about his creative process, the music for which he's famous and some of his regular collaborators. He describes The Bad Seeds as “a collection of tyrants, all tyrannical in their own special way”, and reflects on his own musical journey that's taken him “beyond the tyranny of the rhythm guitar”.

But when he sits at the piano, it's clear that he has never been in the thrall of any other instrument - in fact the piano becomes even more inviting as he ages. From the moment he opens with The Ship Song, his rich, resonant voice captivates the audience. The Town Hall's organ provides the perfect backdrop to the dramatic selections (does he have any other kind of song?), which also include a version of The Weeping Song in which he sings both parts and the highlight of the evening, a wistful version of Nobody's Baby Now.

He declares Stranger Than Kindness “my favourite song I haven't written”, reflects on what it must have been like to be in a relationship with him at the height of his excesses, and recasts the song as a sparse, gradually building piece. Shorn of its urgency, it still sounds beautiful and the change from restless, kinetic energy to acceptance is one that mirrors the path of his own life.

Throughout the evening, Cave is a generous and compassionate host. He indulges the trivial questions like what colour socks he's wearing and gives thoughtful responses to those that touch on difficult subjects like his dead son and long-lost collaborators. In fact, the only subject he's coy about is the future. The new Bad Seeds album, he tells us, is largely finished, though he's not at liberty to divulge any more than that. If it reflects the warmth and generosity of this performance, it will be worth the wait.