the cornerstone of 21st century popular music is…

unoriginality.

I know I’m not supposed to always be critical, but I had a moment last Friday that had me heated. As I listened to the legendary 95.5 KLOS (classic rock – my new favorite station), I heard a familiar lyric, and I was confused…

Take a look at my girlfriend,
’cause she’s the only one I got…

and so on. As I listened to the song unfold, I couldn’t believe it. The one that I’d been listening to for months was just another cheesy cover! I remember telling myself several times that I liked the beat to that song, and though I thought the rap part in it was cheesy, the chorus beat and overall feel kinda made up for it. And it turns out the Gym Class Heroes covered the original done by Supertramp in 1979 (almost 30 years ago!). They even changed the title and the story; GCH’s song is called “Cupid’s Chokehold” and is about a guy who’s talking to his parents about this girl he thinks is “the one,” while Supertramp’s song is called “Breakfast in America,” has no rapping whatsoever, and is about someone wanting to go to America who’s never been before.

“So what, Michael? This happens all the time; it’s called sampling. What’s the big deal?”

Here’s the big deal: everyone’s insecure. There are so few musicians trying to find their voice, their style, their element; and there are so many musicians looking for someone else’s to borrow…take…steal. And what’s the result? You and I are still looking for music and musicians who can inspire us to do something more important than think about ourselves and the significant others we want and the “stuff” we “need.” The shallowness of the lyrics can be matched with the shallowness of the music that accompanies them. People are scrambling through their parent’s old LP’s, searching for a voice and a style they can recreate and have you thinking is original. I’ve been listening to KLOS for about 3-4 months, and I can tell you that between KLOS and KRTH (oldies and a little classic rock), you’re listening to most of what musicians today wish they could do. And get this: it’s so simple!!! Most of them were experimenting with things we take for granted (electric guitars and their effects, piano synthesizers), and they still managed to do it better than most of what I hear on the radio.

Now, I will not do a complete historical analysis of the music that you may hear on these stations, but I can give you some interesting dates:

• Motown Records began in 1959.
• The Beatles, as we know them, came together in 1962.
• The Jimi Hendrix Experience came together in 1966.
• Woodstock took place in 1969.
• Marvin Gaye came out with “What’s Going On” in 1971.
• Bruce Springsteen put out his first album in 1973.
• The Sex Pistols played their first show in 1975.

Some of the most influential rock and r&b artists got their start somewhere during this period. It just so happens that according to this credible website, the Vietnam War took place between those dates. John F. Kennedy was shot in 1963. MLK was shot in 1968, as was Robert Kennedy. The United States was in the midst of the cold war with no sign of resolution. The UK was in the midst of occasional, yet very present conflict with the IRA. The centers of rock and roll and r&b were filled with drama of all types, and part of me thinks that it’s the collision of such drama that cultivated the fertile ground of originality in which the above musicians planted themselves.

Our country has been in the midst of its own drama for a little while, but it seems that much of our generation has planted itself in the rocky soil of quick gratification and social apathy. While some of us care deeply for our government and foreign relations, many of us would rather be left alone. Our music tells the same story. Once in a while, someone like Pink will come along and make people angry by artfully and passionately stating an opinion about something important. But for the most part, the rest of the popular musicians are content to sit idly by and make music about a boy and a girl or something else “not as intense”, thus achieving the escape that most of us now seem to think is the purpose of music.

Why are your musicians afraid of being original? Because they’re afraid to stand face to face with the issues of our day that run laps in our minds and hearts. And why are they afraid to face our core issues? Because they know that they have no answer. They know that all they can see is confusion, conflict, hopelessness, poverty and deceit, and they have nothing to say about it. They can’t respond to it, because they don’t have a solution. They won’t emotionally engage, because that would take too much time and effort. The easiest thing to do is to turn a blind eye to that about which we desperately need to be stirred, called, and moved.

David, the primary poet of the Bible, uses the phrase “new song” 6 times in the Psalms. It is his second usage that I want to leave you with:

I waited patiently for the Lord;
he inclined to me and heard my cry.
He drew me up from the pit of destruction, out of a miry bog,
and set my feet upon a rock, making my steps secure.
He put a new song in my mouth, a song of praise to our God.
Many will see and fear, and put their trust in the Lord.
(psalm40.1-3)

It is from the place of being rescued, of seeing hope and being saved, that the speaker acknowledges that God gives him a new song. He says that people will hear that new song and see, fear (worship), and trust in God. And this is what musicians are supposed to do. We’re supposed to look upon the desolation in our own lives, and see God rescuing us from it. And then we’re supposed to look upon the desolation of the earth, and know that God is redeeming that too. Then, in the place of rescue and safety, we’ll find that God has given us a new song to sing, acknowledging God for what’s he done for us and for others. And it is this song that moves people, for they experience the Lord, and have no choice but to be moved to see what he’s doing, and partner with him in what he’s doing.

It’s time to sing a new song,
because it’s time for our generation to be moved.

unambiguous.

Saturday night, I saw a friend make his altar to the Living God.

In the Old Testament of the Bible, altars were monuments marking God’s faithfulness and his miraculous power. God would have his people make them in certain spots at or near the site of significant events, and they would stand for many years as a testimony to what he did in that place.

I have a friend who is the featured artist for and visionary behind John Baptist Records (i’d hyperlink it but the site’s under construction). His vision is to be the voice of the voiceless, the presence of light peace in a world growing in its love for darkness and violence and hatred. His music speaks directly into the things that people care about: sex, relationships, significance, God, love. In his own words, “If I could, I would write 24 controversial songs and make a double album.” He’s the kind of man that doesn’t want to be ambiguous with his words. He’s very clear on how he thinks, how he feels, and who he worships.

It is his unambiguity that makes him an excellent artist.

Things like evil and violence have ambiguity all over them. The first definition that Dictionary.com gives for ambiguity is “open to or having several possible meanings or interpretations.” Each interpretation of our most controversial and important values seems to be self-serving, and we all know that, in the end, only one self-serving interest can abound. For instance, it is the ambiguity of the concept of “peace” that has been the cause of many wars, even over the past 20 years. And it is the ambiguity of concepts like “rich” and “poor” which help us to widen the gap between the two in a way that defies logic. And it’s usually the interpretation backed by the most power that ends up influencing the most people, not necessarily the interpretation that best represents truth and justice.

But that’s the trippy thing about Jesus. His view of the world is backed by the power of the One who created it. What’s more, all of his being is centered on loving us in obedience to the Father, so his self-serving interest is actually that of glorifying his Father in heaven and seeing you and I live amazing lives. That being said, we can say 2 things about unambiguous art:

1. It’s power: The power that backs up truthful art about our relationship with God and the world has as its source the Creator of everything that has ever existed, does exist, and will exist in the future. Find me more power than that…
2. It’s motivation: The very message of Jesus (his euangellion) is motivated by self-giving love between Father and Son, through the Spirit. It was (first) his obedience to his Father and his extreme compassion for us that motivated him to life, death and resurrection

I think we have so much ambiguous art because people don’t know what real power is, and they don’t know what real motivation is. In general, most of us rely on ourselves to get things done in life, and they turn out okay, at best. And most of us are motivated by some pretty crazy people, or arbitrary things, that have no love for us, don’t know us, and give us no sense of destiny or purpose. Last week, I read a line in a book that rocked me. N.T. Wright said, “Something has happened in and through Jesus as a result of which the world is a different place, a place where heaven and earth have been joined forever.” What was ambiguous for so long was made abundantly clear when God showed up in righteousness, suffering, glory and love. My relationship with him is my power and my motivation, to create and to live. I can make my feeble attempt to create art that gives praise to my Creator, but the grace of it all is that He makes it into something beautiful.

This, once again, is my attempt to tell you that beautiful art, art that isn’t ambiguous, is a product of a dynamic relationship with the Creator. You can try and try and try to make beautiful all you want, but I believe that you can’t find beautiful unless you find Beauty.

the icon…

A few days ago, I was on a prayer retreat with some coworkers. We went to the Prince of Peace Abbey in Oceanside, California, one of the most wonderful places I have ever been to. In addition to the brisk yet sunny weather, sensational sunsets and the 5-minute commute to the beach, their monastery is a piece of architectural genius, designed with the utmost care, artistic detail, and worship for their Lord and Saviour.(Pause for a moment. Check out the icon of Jesus on the front page of their website. Give it a glance for a good 60 seconds. Be inductive with it; what do you notice? What strikes you? How does it draw you to Jesus?)

Every day of my 4-day prayer retreat in Oceanside, I would end up in the abbey church. As you enter from the rear, you can’t help but notice this icon in the front; it, quite literally, is the focus of the building. And each time I entered the church, I was drawn more and more to that intense icon. I started noticing the shapes around Jesus and the book in his right hand. I noticed some of the words and letters that weren’t in English. I was curious, and all my curiosity was satisfied when the Abbott of the monastery (the big boss man) gave our group a tour of the premises, including the church.

I was fascinated by everything, but I was impatiently waiting for the Abbott to explain the icon, and when it was time, I was so excited. And as he explained, I found myself getting lost in it. I actually zoned out a few times because the Abbott would say something, and then point to it on the icon, and then I would just stare and think about that one thing for so long, I would miss him describing 3 other things. It was one of the more interesting, yet profound worship experiences I have ever had. And no joke, by the end of the presentation, I wanted to kneel before the icon and just sit there in adoration and reverence.

Though I cannot even come close to explaining to you all that struck me, I’ve put together a list of 5 things about the icon (and, thus, about Jesus) that captured my attention:

1. On each of the four corners are the 4 winged creatures that sat at the throne of God in Revelation (4.7). It has been said that each is a symbol for the gospel writers: the man symbolizes Matthew and his emphasis on the humanity of Jesus; the bull symbolizes Luke and his focus on Jesus being the perfect sacrifice; the lion is for Mark and his introduction being about John, the lion roaring from the wilderness, and the eagle is for John and the way his gospel starts with Jesus in heaven as the eternal Word.
2. Jesus’ body is inside a circle, representing the universe and his presence in it. His cross, however, extends beyond that universe, demonstrating that his presence, power, and reign is beyond our universe in a place and time much beyond our understanding.
3. Jesus’ robe is made up entirely of triangles or triangulated shapes, signifying the perfect relationship between himself, his Father, and the Holy Spirit.
4. The capital letters alpha (his right) and omega (his left) signifying that he is the beginning and the end, and therefore eternal, unbounded by time, that with which we measure our finiteness.
5. On the bottom, the cross separates 2 pieces of broken chain. On the sides of each broken chain piece are 2 Greek letters that spell out the word nika, meaning victorious. The death of Jesus Christ on the cross and his resurrection freed us from the bondage of sin and death and signaled victory of he who has the power of death, the devil

Like I said, there’s so much more, but I can’t even remember it all.

But as much as so many of these intricate details had me amazed, what amazed me the most is that these monks had a clear idea of what it meant for a work of art to lead them into worship. I mean, this icon is simply amazing. Not only is it theologically accurate, but it is aesthetically pleasing. In his white robes, Jesus looks amazing, and all the details with the symbols on the corners and the lines are done in such a way that there is a lot going on, but you don’t feel like anything is in the way. Everything in the icon is there for a purpose, and serves that purpose with tactfulness and depth. And when these monks look at it (and their whole church, for that matter), they know that they are in the presence of God. Looking around their church, it’s pretty easy to meditate on Jesus and worship Him because everything there points to him being King.

From what the Abbott was telling us, the architects and designers took their job very seriously and went through great pains to make sure that everything about the layout of the church would point to Jesus, right down to the fact that the water line of the water that Jesus’ feet is in is supposed to match up with the water line of the Pacific Ocean, which can be seen out of the large panoramic windows on either side of the church. It’s that intentional. It’s that thoughtful. It’s that worshipful. I mean, isn’t that how Moses put together the elements for worship and how Solomon built the temple? Intricate fabrics and detailed wood-carving was very clearly mandated by Jehovah at times, and I’m pretty sure he was intending for it to be done. He wasn’t just giving out instructions as a suggested guideline. He had a vision, and he wanted for it to become real.

Today, our art is supposed to function the same way. It should demonstrate a level of intention, thought, and prayer. Sounds simple, I know. And I think we are great at the first two of those things. But have you ever taken God’s instructions on what colors to use, or what rhythm to sing, or what words to say? Does that sound too ludicrous? Consider this: God wanted for the people of Israel to be able to worship him, so he inspired artists with his Spirit to be able to make the things that would constitute these elements of worship. Well, here we are, several thousand years later, and God still wants to be praised and worshiped, so won’t his artists serve the same function now that they did then? Of course, it will look different. Of course, we won’t be making arks or tunics or temples. But it is most certainly the case that people should be able to enter into the presence of God because of our art and know that he is amazing, wonderful, and worth giving all their life to him. People should be led into worship, just like they were when they got to the temple. But how are we going to know what leads people to worship God without having God tell us?

Is your art prayerful? Is it from God, or from you? Lately, I’ve become okay with my decreased output of music because I want for everything I write to come out of my dialog with God. I can write a ton of stuff that’s irrelevant to our dialog, which makes it pretty irrelevant in general. But the things him and I talk about have a lot more significance to both of us, thus giving listeners more of a chance to get to know God through me talking about what him and I talk about. In other words, I’m hoping that the peek I’m giving people into my relationship with God leads them to a deeper relationship with God also.

But that means you and I need to have a good one…interesting. Happy New Year :p

our generation’s worship music

Sorry about the long respite; it’s a rough season :p

Since my entry into the world of songwriting, I have been very critical of the “Contemporary Christian Music” genre. In my opinion, there are 2 things that I have observed that contribute to its weakness and its overall ineffectiveness in the church today:

1. Musically, the chord structures are boring. There is very little display of creative thought about the harmonical movement of a song. All I hear is 1 5 6m 4, and it’s really annoying. The game seems to be, “Who can come up with the most interesting riff to go behind the most uninteresting and overused chord progression in the past 50 years?” It’s a demonstration of laziness, a lack of musical training, and/or a lack of understanding of the role of melody and harmony in the listening experience.
2. Lyrically, there is no focus. Usually, songs are written around the same general theme of “God’s good, let’s worship Him” and there’s nothing done to flesh that out or convince the listener of why someone should do that. Choruses are not engaging, and leave you more confused than in love with God. I find myself asking, “What am I singing?” and it’s not in that deep, introspective way.

The end product: a jumble of words with a mediocre melody over an expired harmony. Sounds worshipful, huh?

(Now, I’m not going to apologize to you for sounding harsh. And please don’t think that I am foolish enough to forget that a generality always has exceptions; I am aware of the exceptions and brag about them to everyone I can. But now is not the time for that.)

Many of you have heard this rant from me, and I know that some of you are tired of it. But I would like to once again focus your attention on my friend Jeremy Begbie. Lo and behold, I have found someone so much smarter than I who supports my rant (at least to some extent). In his essay entitled Beauty, Sentimentality and the Arts, Begbie gives a concise, threefold definition of sentimentality, and then begins to explore its connection to music in the worship setting. In particular, he says that the past thirty years have given rise to “a certain kind of devotional song, often directed to the risen Jesus: a direct and unadorned expression of love, with music that is metrically regular, harmonically warm and reassuring, easily accessible and singable” (56).

To elaborate, he says the following:

“However, questions have to be asked if it is assumed that this kind of song exhausts the possibilities of “singing to Jesus,” or if these sentiments are isolated from other dimensions of relating to God. Devotion to Jesus, after all, entails being changed into his likeness by the Spirit – a costly and painful process. It certainly involves discovering the embrace of Jesus’ Father, Abba, but this is the Father we are called to obey as we are loved by him, the Father who judges us just because he loves us, and the Father who at salvation’s critical hour was sensed as devastatingly distant by his only Son.

“If we ignore this wider trinitarian field we are too easily left with a Jesuology that has no room for Jesus as the incarnate Son of the Father, even less room for the wide range of the Spirit’s ministries, and encourages us to tug Jesus into the vortex of our self-defined (emotional) need” (56).

As much as I think that I need to learn more about my craft, that is not the key to me writing great songs. As much as someone may tell you to take drawing lessons or learn music theory or listen to more of the classics, those things are not the key to you making great art. Simply put, your art will always reflect the relationship that you have with God. You may think that you can hide behind awesome technique and flawless execution, but you can’t. The worship music and CCM that we have today is, in my opinion, a result of a mediocre spirituality that has been built upon over the course of time. Generation X and the Millenial Generation have been inundated with so much anti-Christianity, and the music that defines each one of us tells the story. For GenX, it was grunge rock and for us, emo rock. And now we are people trying our very best to escape self-absorption and self-promotion, but that’s what we were taught and that’s what has seeped into our spirituality.

Plain and simple, Christian artists need to have deeper lives with Jesus. You need to know that he is your healer, and you need to see him do that. You need to know that he is a genius, and you need to hear his words and know that. You need to know that he is your agent of freedom, and you need to experience that as you run to him for forgiveness. You need to know his love and patience. You need to see his justice and passion. If your relationship with him is not deep, life-giving, and the best part about your life, then your art will reflect that. If he’s something on the side that’s competing with your parents and your significant other for the top spot, your art will reflect that. If it’s all a sham and you don’t really love Jesus but you’re pretending because you like community and you don’t want to be alone, your art will reflect that.

God is teaching me how to be honest with him. It’s hard. Since I grew up using deception to get by, this sort of honesty is crazy. But I see what God is doing. The thing I am learning is that he knows it all anyway, and the only way he can get to the deeper pain in my soul and heal it is if I show it to him. If I don’t, then he’ll stay where I put him, which, over time, is likely to be that narrow box of “self-defined emotional need.” But my honesty has opened myself up to God teaching me more about myself, and more about his plans to heal me and give me good things. Though the past months have been really hard for me, I have felt really alive and been really cognizant of Jesus’ presence. And it’s not that my songs have been about this rough time in my life, but songs have come, and they have been good and fun to work on. I love creating because I hang out with the Creator all the time, and he’s the best inspiration you could ever have. And though I can’t guarantee you that all the songs I’ve written over the past 5 months have been awesome, they’ve all come from a place where my connection with God is real, and so my music feels real. I’ll take that.

proper citation:
Begbie, Jeremy. “Beauty, Sentimentality and the Arts.” The Beauty of God: Theology and the Arts. Ed. Daniel J. Treier, Mark Husbands and Roger Lundin. Downers Grove, IL: InterVarsity Press, 2007.