I am a sucker for a murder ballad, so much so that I wrote an entire novel (The Last Verse) around my love of the form. I can remember the first time I heard Reba McEntire sing “the night the lights went out in Georgia” my skin broke out in goosebumps at the end of every verse. It was the lyrics that got me, the way she brought each revelation down like a sledgehammer, and brilliant way the storytelling is reflected in the music.
The original true crime podcast, the murder ballad is an oral tradition that goes back centuries and tells of a gruesome killing and its consequences. The crime is sometimes explicit, other times only hinted at, and the story unfolds with dense, vivid detail. The narrator might be a concerned onlooker, or an omniscient narrator, but often the story is told from the perspective of the killer or even the victim. The intimacy of peering into the mind of a killer—be they cold-blooded or sympathetic—is one appeal. But it’s the blend of a scandalous story, a haunting melody, and deft lyricism that makes the form irresistible, and, in my humble opinion, superior.
And the true test of a great one: if the last verse makes your hair stands on end.
If you are new to the form or a fan like myself, scroll down for a list of some of my favorite murder ballads and why I love them:
“Red-Headed Stranger” by Willie Nelson
(written by Edith Lindeman and Carl Stutz)
A great songwriter is a composer, a poet, and a novelist in one, and this ballad is a showcase of the craft. Each line layers on meaning that drives the plot forward and enriches the impact of the verse to follow. A man on horseback leads a bay pony into town. He’s in mourning, his “little lost love lay asleep on the hillside,” and we’re told in the chorus to stay out of his way. There’s tension, because we know someone is not going to heed the warning. When a yellow-haired woman tries to seduce him then steal his horse, the one adored by his wife, he shoots her dead. Murder ballads often have a moral thread, and this one is delivered neatly at the end:
The yellow-haired lady was buried at sunset,
The stranger went free, of course.
For you can’t hang a man for killing a woman
Who’s trying to steal your horse.
Willie’s scuffed leather voice is perfect for this tune. He’s so full of seen-it-all wisdom and compassion, you can almost see him sitting on the porch, watching the whole drama go down.
“The Night the Lights Went out in Georgia” by Reba McEntire
(Written by Bobby Russell)
It’s a classic southern gothic revenge story, with a didn’t-see-it-comin’ twist at the end. Originally sung by Vicki Lawrence, the song found new fame when Reba recorded it in 1991. As a child of this era, I am Reba all the way.
“The Long Black Veil” by Johnny Cash
(written by Marijohn Wilken and Danny Dill)
Johnny Cash’s crumbly baritone was made for murder ballads. This one is about the haunting of a man who killed his lover. The first line has us by the throat as we learn who is telling the story:
Ten years ago
on a cold dark night
Someone was killed
‘neath the town hall light.
There were few at the scene
but they all agree
That the killer who ran
looked a lot like me.
His guilt, embodied by the veiled woman, follows him to gallows, and then the grave. I love the 2009 Live in Ireland version.
“Kill Bill” by SZA
(written by Solana Rowe, Rob Bisel, Carter Lang)
This is a fresh take on the tradition with many hallmarks of the classic. A mentally unstable woman obsesses about and ultimately follows through with killing her ex and his new woman. The final line I’d rather be in hell than alone chills to the core.
“The Thunder Rolls” by Garth Brooks
(written by Garth Brooks and Pat Alger)
Another gem from the golden era of country music, this feels in every way like a traditional ballad except for a small detail—no dead body. But the last verse here suggests the gathering rage in the wronged woman’s heart may yet lead to one:
But on the wind and rain a strange new perfume blows,
And the lightning flashes in her eyes, and he knows that she knows.
“Kate McCannon” by Colter Wall
(written by Colter Wall)
Colter Wall is a new artist with a vintage Outlaw country voice—and this song feels as old as the hills. The title harkens to traditional Irish murder ballads, and he doesn’t stray outside the rough outlines of the form. It’s a jealousy murder told from the killer’s point of view with the moral entity taking the form of a mocking raven. Though Wall does not attempt to advance or play with conventions, Kate McCannon is a gorgeous vehicle for his voice and moody performance.
“Goodbye Earl” by the Dixie Chicks
(written by Dennis Linde)
If you were alive at any point during the year 2000, you heard this song about a million times. “Good bye Earl” is a triumphant payback song, a cheeky girl-power anthem that somehow makes light of a deadly situation without minimizing it. Best friends team up to poison abusive Earl’s black-eyed peas, dump his corpse, then leave town and open up a produce stand. Unlike the narrator of “Long Black Veil,” the killers of this song are not haunted by their crimes—they are liberated.
“Frankie” by Mississippi John Hurt
(written by John S. Hurt)
An early payback song, this beauty pares it down to a deft fingerpicking and Hurt’s blues-weathered voice. The song of a woman whose justification for killing her cheating man is simple: she bought him a hundred-dollar suit and he done her wrong.
“Daddy Lessons” by Beyonce
(written by Wynter Gordon, Kevin Cossom, Beyoncé, Alex Delicata)
Again, no dead body here, but this knockout country/R&B single from 2016’s Lemonade is a loaded gun and the safety is off. This ballad about a flawed father and his daughter’s complicated love for him is Outlaw country in form and function—but better.
When trouble comes to town,
and men like me come around,
oh my daddy said shoot,
oh my daddy said shoot.
I could write pages about this song. It’s Country, it’s Black, it’s Beyonce, it’s brilliant. And it passes the chills test every time.
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