When Johnny Cash lost his wife, you could hear it in his inflection, his words, his voice; nothing was left untouched. This year, Nick Cave took his place. Skeleton Tree, shrouded in the darkness of his mourning, is Cave’s first album since the tragic death of his 15-year-old son. Nick Cave and the Bad Seeds are notorious for wallowing in bleak subject matter, but now they have worldly context for their misery, resulting in a new level of lyrical maturity that balances their dark themes and keeps outside the zone of pretension. They achieved this in their last masterpiece, the double album Abattoir Blues/The Lyre of Orpheus, by maintaining some levity and always preserving a sense of hope. There is no hope in this album—there is none when a parent loses a child—but eventually, in his desert of lamentations, Cave’s tree finds reprieve, “And it's alright now, and it's alright now, and it's alright now…”