“Are All Cops Bastards” is a song about the distance between a badge and justice, sung by the person that distance falls on hardest. I set out to write a protest song and ended up writing a portrait. A protest song lets the listener stand beside the singer and point at power from a safe distance. I wanted the listener inside the harm before they noticed the door closing behind them. That is why the song is sung by a woman, and why she sings it sweetly. A snarling delivery would make it a righteous barn-burner—easy to admire and easy to forget. A clear, sweet voice with no armor removes that distance. The song is about what happens when the people meant to protect you become the thing you need protection from. The sweetness is innocence, and the song is about what authority can do to innocence. The song names no one. There is no town, department, rank, or date. The details of real events belong to the people who lived them and to the records where they are documented. A song can hold the pattern without stealing anyone’s particular story. Naming one person makes it a case about that person. Naming no one leaves the pattern open: the badge could be any badge, the counter any counter, the woman singing anyone.
It begins with pre-judgment. The narrator arrives “with the truth in her hand,” but they read her file before they look at her face. “We know your kind, girl, we know your case.” The verdict is already in: “Judge and jury in a filing cabinet lid.” Once that decision is made, everything afterward bends to fit it. Then comes the asymmetry. Her report disappears into a drawer while the same kind of complaint against her becomes a warrant. She calls for help when she is frightened and remains alone. The system is not broken; it works exactly as designed for some people and against others. Then the badge comes to the door. She called because that is what people are supposed to do. The uniform becomes access, and safety becomes a second threat: “Who do you call when the call is the crime / when the badge at the door does it a second time?” But the song turns when another woman’s story reaches her. One voice can be dismissed, discredited, or filed away. Two voices recognizing each other create a different reality: “You can bury one girl, you can call her a liar / but you light two candles and you’ve started a fire.” The isolation was the weapon. The bridge is where that isolation ends.
The music follows the same movement. It begins in an urgent A-minor groove, lifts toward F major in the chorus, then falls back into minor because the story does not resolve cleanly. The guitars climb in thirds and land on an unresolved A-minor add-9 chord with feedback hanging behind it. There is no major-key redemption because the narrator is still standing at the counter, still holding the truth, still waiting to be heard. The song is not a case file. Courts and reporters can establish what happened. A song can hold what the record cannot: the feeling of entering a room where you have already lost, the silence of a report that goes nowhere, and the vertigo of calling for help only to find that help has become another threat. No names, no town, no single target. Just the shape of the thing. If you have lived a version of it, the song is yours. If you have not, listen to the sweetness carrying it. The sweetness is not the opposite of the darkness. It is what the darkness was aimed at. Made up their minds. But we are talking now, and we are talking fast.
Are All Cops Bastards? 2026 John F Sendelbach
No crime to name (Made up their minds) No crime to name (Made up their minds) No crime to name I came down to the station with the truth in my hand Said here's what happened, here's where I stand They looked at their paper 'fore they looked at my face Said we know your kind, girl, we know your case Never asked me a question, never let me speak Made up their minds on me last week
There's a line in the report, I've read it a hundred times Talking to her don't work, like that's one of my crimes My name walked in the room before I did Judge and jury in a filing cabinet lid I hadn't said a word and the verdict was in Guilty of the trouble I've apparently been So what law did I break, go on and name it out loud You threatened me twice in front of the crowd
Same badge, same shrug, same look in the eye Can't tell me the crime, but you'll sure tell me why There's no crime to name, there's no crime to name Just a girl with a camera and a town with an aim I called them the night that I was scared in my home Twenty minutes later I'm still there alone My report's in a drawer where the sun never goes Theirs is a warrant before anybody knows
I make the same call that they answer for them And mine just evaporates again and again He came to my door in his uniform blue I called him for help, that's what you're supposed to do He sat down beside me, put his hand where it shouldn't be Said there's not much I can do, then he did that to me And who do you call when the call is the crime When the badge at the door does it a second time
So what law did I break, go on and name it out loud You threatened me twice in front of the crowd Same badge, same shrug, same look in the eye Can't tell me the crime, but you'll sure tell me why There's no crime to name, there's no crime to name Just a girl with a camera and a town with an aim They wear the little bracket where the camera should ride But there's nothing in the mount, nothing there to hide
It's the shape of being watched with the watching removed The promise of the record with the record disproved And I was scared to say it 'cause who'd take my side When the one you report to's the one you'd report But I wasn't the only one, and I found that out Another woman's story turned my fear into shout You can bury one girl, you can call her a liar But you light two candles and you've started a fire
I ain't the first he cornered, I won't be the last But we're talking now, and we're talking fast So what law did I break, I'll wait right here Name the statute, name the section, make it clear You never could, you never will, and we both understand There was never any crime, just a badge and a wandering hand There's no crime to name, there's no crime to name Just a girl with a camera and a town with an aim
No crime to name, still standing No crime to name, and we're not done talking No crime to name (Made up their minds) No crime to name (Made up their minds) No crime to name