and the ass saw the angel

It's so HOT.
I've been digging in the garden, making polite chit chat with the man from next door and generally sunning myself. It all sounds so relaxing and lovely doesn't it. Well it wasn't. I'm way too hot, I'm muddy and I have a blister in the middle of both palms.
I'm going to go and finish my book 'and the ass saw the angel'. I bought it for Robin when he finished his masters and I've only just gotten around to reading it myself. There is a horrible scoundrel in it called Crow Jane (my Crow Jane is curled up snoozing in the sun right now) and it's set in the swamps of the deep south of America, it's tragic and isolating and terrible and funny and brilliant. I would wholehearted recommend it.

I am going to read Nick Caves' new book after I am finished with this one but I don't think I'm going to like it as much. I have sneaking suspicion that it's going to be much more polished and not so dreamy.
If this is the Nick Cave that wrote 'and the ass saw the angel'

And this is the Nick Cave that wrote 'the death of Bunny Monroe'. I know which one I prefer.

I do love Nick though, seriously, I just think that a crazy young hedonistic lifestyle makes for fantastic writing, and a family man who is a genius artist musician and all the rest of it makes a great writer. But it's not the same is it.

I guess I'll find out either way.