Last week I sat up to tune into a radio show. It was a live broadcast, on BBC 6 Music, at midnight last Thursday. The one-hour special, hosted by the great Mary Anne Hobbs, played the new Nick Cave album in its entirety.
It was a hard listen. The record, called Skeleton Tree, deals with grief. Last year, Nick Cave’s young son died in a tragic accident. This was Cave’s way of trying to navigate out of the pit.
Raw, elemental, hymnal in places, it’s a work that requires a steadiness to face. I Need You is particularly tough.
Something happened during the broadcast. Maybe it was the hour, maybe it was the fact that as listeners we were in the moment, and unquestionably it had something to do with Cave’s incredible honesty and skill, but the communal nature of the listening experience became more than the sum of its parts. People started to send in messages not just about this record, but their own experiences. A listener talked about his own grief at losing a child and where the record was taking him.
On levels that are impossible to properly measure, this broadcast helped. It helped those facing their own issues and allowed people to see they were not alone.
A different kid every 30 minutes was having suicidal thoughts
Radio can do this. It has a wonderful intimacy. And great music can cut through in ways no other art form can.