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The prospect of writing his second novel filled him with dread, but however lonely and destructive the process, it’s still much easier than making a record, Bad Seed Nick Cave tells SINÉAD GLEESON

IT’S A SWELTERING afternoon in London and the sun barely registers in a hired room containing paintings, busts, antique books and, over by the window, Nick Cave. Tall, whippet-thin and younger-looking in person, Cave is notoriously wary of journalists and even though he’s here to talk books and music, it is well-known that he views publicity as a necessary evil. The book in question, The Death of Bunny Munro, comes two decades after his debut novel and Cave believes he couldn’t have written this book before now.