Australian cult rocker, novelist, and recovering junkie Nick Cave has long been the stuff of legend. But his music — lugubrious, dressed-in-black postpunk — hasn’t always lived up to the myth. That’s all changed on his terrific seventh album, Henry’s Dream, which sets Cave’s deep, dolorous voice and scab-picking lyrics (”I counted all my blessings/And I counted only one”) to windswept, tote- that-barge arrangements. If galley slaves conducted sing-alongs, complete with lush accompaniment, it would sound like this. Cave even offers up a lovely ballad (”Straight to You”) amidst his usual moralistic story-songs. Old fans may be dismayed by Cave’s bid at accessibility, but to everyone else Henry’s Dream may finally demonstrate what the fuss is all about.