The first time I saw Nick Cave in concert, it was during my first week at the University of Leeds, in the campus dining hall. My father bought me two tickets, but I couldn’t convince a single one of my bewildered first-year classmates to join me. Fourteen years later, it’s hard to imagine anyone not knowing the name Nick Cave. Now in his 60s, Cave is as prolific, fascinating and original as he was when the Bad Seeds formed in the ’80s. Over the decades, their music has evolved dramatically. gothic, mind-blowing rock into something more generous and thoughtful, intensified in recent years by the deaths of two of Cave’s sons. The darkness remains but it is infused with joy, a happiness only possible through intimacy with pain.

In this sublime two-and-a-half hour show – the first part of the Wild God UK tour – Cave ran through the full breadth of his catalogue: snarling and raging through ‘From Her to Eternity’ (1982). and “Jubilee Street” (2013), then takes to the piano to bring his audience to tears with the ballad “Into My Arms” and his current single, “Joy”. Introducing “O Children” (“We’re all crying now, crying because/There’s nothing we can do to protect you”), he lamented that the song had become redundant in the intervening 20 years since he wrote it. He was an artist in total command, directing the inner worlds of his audience with a simple, enigmatic flick of the wrist. He was joined on stage by the Bad Seeds – in Cave’s words, “extraordinary, aging gentlemen” – including his longtime collaborator Warren Ellis (playing electric violin while standing on a chair, the only person with sufficient magnetism to look away from Cave). and bassist Colin Greenwood, on loan from Radiohead, as well as four gospel-eqsue backing vocalists.

Throughout, Cave paced the front of the stage, stooping to shake the hands of fans who gripped the air like his feet, like the bloodied woman hoping to heal at the touch of Jesus’ mantle. It’s become a cliché to describe Cave’s work as “transcendental,” but wading through plastic cups as the lights came on, it was hard not to feel a little closer to God.

(See also: How Kraftwerk’s Autobahn remade pop)