Nick Cave & the Bad Seeds’ Conway Savage Dead at 58

[Yakub Oloyede]

The pianist was “Irascible, funny, terrifying, sentimental, warm-hearted, gentle, acerbic, honest, genuine,” band says..Conway Savage—the piano player, organist, and support vocalist for Nick Cave and the Bad Seeds—passed on Sunday night, as indicated by an announcement on the band's site. He was 58.

A year ago, Savage experienced medical procedure to expel a cerebrum tumor. Because of his finding and activity, he missed a great part of the band's visit behind their most recent collection Skeleton Tree. He kicked the bucket because of the cerebrum tumor, the band's marketing expert affirms to Pitchfork. Savage joined Nick Cave and the Bad Seeds in 1990 for The Good Son. He discharged different synergistic and solo collections all through his profession.

Savage was conceived in Victoria, Australia and started playing piano in his initial adolescents. He proceeded to play in different groups all through the '80s, for example, down home music band the Feral Dinosaurs, Happy Orphans, and Dust on the Bible. With Nick Cave's band, he recorded seven collections including Henry's Dream (1992), Murder Ballads (1996), and Abattoir Blues/The Lyre of Orpheus (2004). All through his chance with them, Savage likewise recorded with different specialists, including Suzie Higgie, with whom he made the collection Soon Will Be Tomorrow (1995). In 2000, he discharged his full-length solo introduction Nothing Broken individually mark, Beheaded Communications. His last discharge was 2010's Pussy's Bow EP with Amanda Fox and Robert Tickner.

In their statement, Nick Cave and the Bad Seeds write:

A member of Bad Seeds for nearly thirty years, Conway was the anarchic thread that ran through the band’s live performances. He was much loved by everyone, band members and fans alike. Irascible, funny, terrifying, sentimental, warm-hearted, gentle, acerbic, honest, genuine - he was all of these things and quite literally “had the gift of a golden voice,” high and sweet and drenched in soul. On a drunken night, at four in the morning, in a hotel bar in Cologne, Conway sat at the piano and sang Streets of Laredo to us, in his sweet, melancholy style and stopped the world for a moment. There wasn’t a dry eye in the house. Goodbye Conway, there isn’t a dry eye in the house.