Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds: Murder Ballads
I’m a fan of murder. Or rather, what surrounds it. I love true crime shows and podcasts. I have more knowledge about serial killers than I’m comfortable with. I grew up reading Poe, and I love the murder mysteries of Agatha Christie. Murder and crime and debauchery provide a healthy portion of my entertainment. And I was okay with that. And then I heard Murder Ballads.
Murder Ballads is, as it says on the tin, a collection of ballads about murder. That’s really it. At one level, it’s a just a list of horrible crimes set to music. Sounds fun, right? It might seem so to some, heck, it might have seemed so to me, but I found myself feeling more uncomfortable, even sickened by the end of this album. I’m listening to it as I write this, and it’s giving me a headache.
Nick Cave and the rest of his band think of this as a comedy album, because of the sheer ridiculousness of the murders, the excess of it all. But I didn’t find this funny, not even in a dark way. No funny bone, dark or otherwise was tickled by this album. I think this comes down to a fundamental difference in our sense of humor: I don’t find excessive violence funny. I don’t find the act of murder funny.
The stuff around a murder on the other hand, the people involved, the murderers even, can be very funny. They’re often pitiful people, and it’s easy to make fun of them. Call it a small part of the punishment for taking a human life. My favorite podcast revolves around this principal. But a ballad tends to paint in broad strokes, so those kinds of details aren’t really focused on. In fact, sometimes the killer is romanticized, which is fine in certain situations, but this feels like it’s focusing on the killer at the expense of the victim.
That’s the big problem with this album: there seems to be no real respect for the victims, and any crime writer worth their salt knows that the best way to write is to paint a picture not of the killer, but of the victim. That’s the most important part. It is more respectful, and makes for a more engaging read. Take that away and you’re left with a pile of incomprehensible horror or at worst, a lionizing of a reprehensible person. I have no interest in either.
2/5 If what I’ve described appeals to you’ll receive no judgment from me. From other reviews I’ve read, I’m in a minority here. All this being said, I did find some songs growing on me, like gangrene. This album is like a worm that lays eggs in your brain. I wish I could forget it, but it’s too late.