Cycles and Symbols...

The first act of creation is destruction...

The Most Enduring Band Of My Generation

It’s been said that Pearl Jam is the new Grateful Dead. Now, forgetting that it was me who said that, and with no disrespect to any remaining Dead Heads, I think that idea is just about as precise and inspiring as another one of my profound statements, that professional hockey is barbaric, bloody, primal and absolutely beautiful. But putting aside my anger issues for a moment and focussing on the amazingly redemptive power of Vedder et al, allow me to recount my first introduction to them in December of 1991. I was a freshman in college and home on winter break. I found myself watching MTV one day, this was back when they actually played music videos – a crazy thought in itself. Sandwiched between Ozzy’s “Mama I’m Coming Home” and Arc Angels “Living In A Dream” was a new band called Pearl Jam playing a live single “Alive”. This song wept of passion, exuberance, lamentation and persistence. It was immediately a delicate mix of enduring sadness and anthemic grandeur. It not only proclaimed a resolute “fuck you”, but one with quite tears of resignation. This spoke to me unlike any music I had ever experienced.

From the opening drones of “Once” to the fading prayer of “Release Me”, Ten was filled with songs that made sense to me in some sort of primordial, subconscious way. In fact, I would say in hindsight that Pearl Jam had successfully tapped into the collective subconscious of an entire generation in a way that only few artist throughout history have been able to repeat. This connection, however, became the catalyst for their snowballing startdom, a position to which Vedder appeared allergic, an almost unchangeably anti-star. This became the main ingredient in what I have always interpreted as their ongoing desire to weed out those who “love the tunes” from those who truly connect with their music on an unspoken level. Throughout Vs. and Vitalogy you can hear their struggle to branch out and evolve while trying to keep one foot dancing with the date that brought them to this party. Those collections are rife with fantastic songs and their struggle still stands as one with better art than most. However, with No Code and beyond, their music seemed to be an increasing attempt to alienate those hangers on who dare not look too deep within themselves, lest they find the monsters they fear.

With the next two released, the aforementioned No Code and Yield, they tested their own boundaries of convention and musicality. Mike McCready continued to express his bluesy soul, as Ed began to tap more into his punk roots all the while Stone and Jeff held down the foundation as they continued to wander through an almost Spinal Tap-ish string of drummers. With the advent of Binaural, Pearl Jam finally cohered into the fullness of what they had struggle to capture. With the addition of Matt Cameron on drums, they finally became what, ironically they began as, Temple of the Dog all grown up.

With the collapse of Soundgarden and the unrest with Jack Irons at the drum throne, Matt Cameron became more than a natural fit – he was the prodigal come home. While he was never a member of the band, he was family and his consummation of that relationship was the final piece of the puzzle that created the Pearl Jam matured, defined, and fully unique sound they have become.

With the next four releases (Binaural, Riot Act, Pearl Jam and Backspacer) they never ceased to grow and evolve. In fact, each release continues to stretch and grow its audience as, I am sure, the band continues to grow through each period of writing, recording and touring. What they have grown into, however, is a band who lives on the road and shares those experiences excessively. Between 2000 and 2001, they released 72 live cds and had the record for the most albums to debut on Billboard’s 200 at the same time. However, they were just cutting their teeth. The next year, they released another 73. Today, they total more than 340 official live bootlegs. Official. This doesn’t count the hundreds of audience taped bootlegs that circulate through websites, fans clubs and bit torrents.

Pearl Jam have successfully cultivated a cult following that travels with them, purchases multiple live bootlegs, and records hundred of their own bootlegs. They tour tirelessly, but what’s more important is that they create tirelessly. Each set is an organic creation that lives, breathes and repeats nothing of its former incarnations; they are masters of improv. This omni-creation is what makes them both enduring and consistently relevant. Their constant evolution and reexamination of themselves, their individual contributions and their collective assertions into the collective psyche of a generation of empaths who will carry with them the lessons learn, the pains felt and the joys celebrated.

With the close of the year upon me, I always like to twist my narcissistic head around and look behind me to pontificate at great length about the successes and failures of the previous 12 months. It’s more than the typical time of reflection that we all come to expect of the impending new year for me, however. I learned long ago not to waste time on my own regrets….it’s much easier to focus on what everyone else should regret. My time of reflection is accompanied by a sense of smug self-righteousness and piety that only comes from believing with my whole heart that the music business takes its collective, yearly dump on us all and laughs at our expenditures as we swallow down the mediocrity we so eagerly open our mouths and wallets to receive. The bright spot is that there are wondrous treasures to be found among the shit each year and I have taken my own time and resources to deliver to you an easy guide to avoid the crap and go after the cream. You’re welcome. If you’ve been left feeling shat upon by the music industry this year, try these releases and you won’t be disappointed. Now, I am sure our tastes differ, but trust me on these…you’ll thank me later.

10. Eyas, Split EP from Centro-matic & South San Gabriel
I’ve been a fan of these two bands for a decade now. Centro-matic and South San Gabriel are two split personalities of the same band with one slight difference. South San Gabriel has a pedal steel guitar player. Will Johnson and the gang put on the best live show of any band in this generation and they do it the old fashioned way – with music and energy. They don’t need the lights, the stage antics, the pyrotechnics or the theatrics that other bands rely on to divert your attention from their half-assed musicianship. This particular seven song EP is a gem of a deal. You can purchase it online for $6 and with it, you’ll get SSG’s slow moving, molasses induced funeral dirge cover of Lionel Richie’s All Night Long. Ironically, it’s the most honest and profound treatment that anyone could give of this song. As usual, throughout the EP, Centro-matic make their mark with gritty guitars, absolutely perfect drums and the best lyrics and vocals to come out of Texas in a generation at least. Their South San Gabriel personality counterpart delivers somber, deathly & beautifully pensive alt-country songs full of wrestling questions and joyful resonance. For anyone who is new to either of these bands, this is a powerful introduction. For the fans of both, this puts the cap on a great collection of songs from Will et al.

9. Nightmare, Avenged Sevenfold
I have to insert this CD in my list for a few reasons. I am, at heart, still a child of the 80’s and I respect anyone who is not afraid of that period’s influence upon their music. Also, I have times in my life where I unashamedly love to turn up heavy music so loudly that my spine fears for its survival. This CD has been added to my list for those reasons and because this project marks a real period of growth and maturity for these guys as songwriters and musicians. With the addition of Mark Portnoy, formerly of Dream Theater, as their drummer since the death of their original drummer, there is a marked difference in how his musicianship has impacted their thinking. Avenged Sevenfold have successfully graduated from mediocre musicianship and pubescent songwriting to turn out a CD full of spectacular, issue-driven music that is only occasionally seasoned with the adolescent pabulum they previously used as a staple crop. I will add this, Nightmare is one of the most perfectly EQ’d and mixed CD’s ever produced. This type of perfection typically renders the recording sterile and inaccessible. Nightmare, however, is far different. It has deep emotions and feeling throughout the disc and comes with strong sincerity and honesty. The end result is a very respectable hybrid of emotion and sonic perfection rarely found.

8. Scratch My Back, Peter Gabriel
Peter Gabriel, consummate musician, iconic lyricist, accomplished composer and now, cover artist. Scratch My Back is the beginning of a project where Gabriel renders what can only be called astounding covers of obscure songs that he enjoys in an effort to pay homage to these artists. In return, it’s reported that these artists will all cover his music in a collection entitled I’ll Scratch Yours. Clever. Endearing. And still this CD is in many ways a perfect complement to the disparate songwriters whose catalog this project respects and honors. His voice is accompanied solely by orchestral arrangements, which makes for some extremely “radical reinterpretations” as his website explains it. And radical it is. Moving. Swelling. Emotional. Vulnerable. The covers of everyone from David Bowie and Paul Simon to Arcade Fire, Bon Iver, Elbow and Radiohead are each treated with a unique viewpoint with which Peter Gabriel is so exquisite. This is definitely the most beautiful album of the year and certainly one of the most beautiful in my complete collection.

7. Recovery, Eminem
As some of you may already know, I’m new to the whole Eminem experience. Up until about two months ago, I had heard none of his songs. Not one. This was a position I held with great piety and a resolute certainty that I would never relinquish this medal of honor. Then, for some reason, I decided to give the guy a try. I ended up getting the guy's entire catalog and consuming it like a kid devours M&Ms. While Recovery doesn’t have the bite and fury that The Eminem Show has, it makes up for it in maturity, production and downright badassedness. I really couldn’t say enough good about this CD. While The Eminem Show will always be my favorite, Recovery is no small effort and it breathes its own air as a stellar project with track by track resolution and creativity. In short, this CD is its very own badass pill. Take it and you will grow testicles the size of grapefruit.

6. Band of Joy, Robert Plant
The new collaborative project known as Band of Joy brings together three of my favorite people in music: Robert Plant, Buddy Miller and Patty Griffin. Co-produced by Plant and Miller, this project has the exactly perfect formula that cannot fail. Robert Plant - the voice and lyricist of the most influential rock band in history…joining forces with the most underrated and over-looked producers, songwriters, guitar players and arrangers in history, period - Buddy Miller. I’m telling you, this guy doesn’t sweat onstage, he oozes liquid music. When he plays the guitar babies stop screaming, the market starts rising, and women get to stop faking it. This guy is the real deal and anything he puts his hand to becomes butter in the ears of the listener. The fact that this project is almost entirely made up of covers matters not. In fact, the covers blend into a cohesive, awe-inspiring sound that could easily be mistaken for peace in the Middle East. Their cover of Low’s beautiful lament, Silver Rider, is worth the price of the torrent alone…absolutely gorgeous and haunting. If you buy only one CD because of this article, it should be this one. End line.

5. How To Destroy Angels, How To Destroy Angels
When Trent Reznor decided to call it quits for Nine Inch Nails, the world’s population of music enthusiasts mourned in great numbers while all musicians secretly gave an enormous sigh of relief. Reznor is one of those artists that everyone should fear. His honesty, integrity and musicianship are challenged only by his holistic and artistic approach to everything he does. I’m not trying to make this guy sound like Jesus. It’s purely coincidental, because he can almost do no wrong. I say almost because every artist has their Saint Anger, and for me it was The Slip. To go out on that note was very disengaging for me. But hey, he gave it to us for free so what do we have to complain about. I paid money for Saint Anger AND that damn fool of a movie. My own fault, but I digress. Yet, How To Destroy Angels has redeemed Reznor into the Post-NIN Hierophant that he rightfully is. In this project, however, he takes a step to the side and while completely running the show, he’s no longer the performer as much as the stage manager for his wife, Mariqueen Maandig. A wise decision, on both a marketing and a composition level. Mariqueen’s voice renders itself as one more instrument in the mix and the palette is slight, coy and extremely sexy. This little EP has the longevity that any great art deserves and should be ingested with a nice red wine. Fantastic sounds.

4. Feedback, Derek Webb
Derek Webb made his break with the corporate death knell that is the Christian Music Industry long ago, yet his perspective will always be from one inside Christianity. This is not a charge against him. Everyone has their worldview and this is his. However, don’t think for a moment that he shares the same narrow, narcissistic and compulsively abusive worldview that is Christendom today. His music is always insightfully spiritual, critically introspective and (most importantly) artistically beautiful. His latest offering is the instrumental album, Feedback. Inspired by and crafted to be an instrumental representation of The Lord’s Prayer, this disc is full of all manner of wonderful surprises. The paintings, the digital artwork, the sounds, all coalesce into a joyful and reflective mix of acoustic and electronic that can bring even the most devout agnostic to consider the sheer beauty of the words this music symoblizes. St. Francis of Assisi supposedly said, “Preach the gospel at all times and, when necessary, use words.” Webb has shown us all that words are frequently distractions when conveying the Beautiful.

3. Heligoland, Massive Attack
What a frantic and expansive treat Heligoland is. The fifth studio album by trip-hop demigods Massive Attack. This CD is perfect. You should buy it immediately.

That is all.








2. Dark Night of the Soul, Danger Mouse/Sparklehorse
Dark Night of the Soul is a collaborative project between Danger Mouse, Mark Linkous (Sparklehorse) and David Lynch. Yes. David Lynch. As in Eraserhead. Anything that man touches is going to be darkly and wondrously beautiful. To make sense of this project you also have to know that it was written and recorded in the months before the sad passing of Mark Linkous who, as it seems, was going through his own Dark Night of the Soul. The album, released in conjunction with a 100+ page book of photos taken by Lynch which was to be a visual correspondence to the music itself, employs a number of other artists in its collaboration. In fact, the roster of vocalists and co-conspirators reads like a who’s who of artistic music: James Mercer of The Shins, Wayne Coyne of The Flaming Lips, Gruff Rhys of Super Furry Animals, Frank Black, Vic Chesnutt and even David Lynch himself. The result is an awfully mysterious trip down the path of least resistance and a burrowing siren of pensive contemplation. The CDs grandeur is as great as its heaviness. Truly one of the most beautiful works of art in a long time, this project has so many layers that it still feels brand new upon every listen. I have yet to exhaust all of the nuances and strata found within this project.

1. The Suburbs, Arcade Fire
And now for the #1 CD of the year for me. Arcade Fire’s The Suburbs. Why? That’s a tough question to answer. Besides the fact that this album is inspired by the Arcade Fire’s Butler brothers youthful experiences growing up in The Woodlands, TX (a suburb of Houston – my home town)...besides its universal, yet extremely familiar themes of angst, hope, hopelessness, a struggling for meaning, and the yearning for escape...besides the haunting melodies and perfect instrumentation...besides the harmonically perfect balance between classic instruments and sounds and fresh new approaches influenced by post-punk sensibilities yet skillfully directioned away from marketeers and puppeteers...besides the intelligent lyrics and introspective themes that require the listener to give himself or herself as an offering to the music in response...besides the vigilance of folks like the Butlers who demand we scrutinize ourselves and our surroundings...I suppose there’s nothing of note in this album at all. Other than those spectacular and all too infrequent ingredients, this is a regular CD with nothing noteworthy. And that’s what makes it pure genius. The sounds are so palatable and comfortable, the melodies are so wonderfully glorious, the music is so catchy and happy that they provide the perfect cover for the subterfuge that they so wittingly serve us in the unsuspecting songs and melodies that the result is an infection within us as it seeps deeply into our subconscious. This is rock music at its finest hour. This is what this art form is all about. It’s like the mullet of rebellion: a “let’s dance” in the front and a “fuck you” in the back. That, my dear friends, is why this CD is at the top of my list.

My Inner Journey Begins

All that is gold does not glitter,
Not all those who wander are lost;
The old that is strong does not wither,
Deep roots are not reached by frost.
From the ashes a fire shall be woken,
A light from the shadows shall spring;
Renewed shall be blade that was broken:
The crownless again shall be king. - JRR Tolkein, Lord of the Rings

As I packed my bags and boxed up my office, after 12 years in vocational ministry within the Christian church and 8 years on the pastoral staff within the Vineyard collective church body, I announced my life was changing. To my church community, with whom I had been building a new Vineyard Church, joining along side them as their senior pastor, I told them that my journey this far had been one of a tour guide. Strange comparison perhaps, but when we examine the activities and expressions of a tour guide, my two year assignment as their pastor and church planter seemed to be a comparable occupation. A tour guide takes a group of people along where he or she has already previously been, pointing out the sites along the way, educating them on the history and stories of the places and objects they pass. Informing their minds and inspiring their hearts to consider all these things and what, if any, impact these things may have on their own lives. A tour guide is, in a word, the expert. He is paid to be the expert. He is looked to for answers and information. This was the world in which I lived and served for many years and they were all wonderful years in their own ways. In my years as an occupational minister and pastor, I can say that I never once felt taken for granted. Not once did I wish my experience to be any different than it had been. I served along side of very skilled and very powerful professionals and among some of the most compassionate and dedicated believers in the faith. My professional life as a pastor was, in my opinion, very unique and a true blessing.

As that part of my life came to a close and I was shutting down my laptop of professionalism and tour guidery, if I can create that word, I was opening a new reality and beginning a new journey. That Sunday morning of my last, at the little bundle of joy we affectionately called “The Refinery”, I told my church family that I was embarking on a very exciting journey. No longer would I be the Expert. No longer would I be stepping into the boots of the tour guide. No. I was going on an expedition. I was going to be an explorer.

Certainly, an explorer doesn’t take a group of people with him - they can get hurt. They can break a leg. Even death may overtake some poor soul who may fall off a cliff or get eaten by tigers. Ligers even. It’s pretty much my favorite animal. Explorers go off on their own, find out what is out there and then, hopefully, return to their Majesty with grand stories of new lands and landscapes. Perhaps once an Explorer finishes his expeditions sufficiently enough he may return as a tour guide with a few so he may show them the terrain and help them learn the newfound sites. This was my calling. It was something I set out to do. It is from this expedition I return today. Not as an expert. In these lands, I’m beginning to believe, no one ever truly becomes what we would like to think of as an expert. I don’t return with all the answers, nor do I return with everything in its right place. What I am doing is returning with stories of what I’ve seen, where I’ve been and why this journey is important...not just to me, but to the way we think, feel, love and live. Sometimes wondering doesn’t imply you are lost. Sometimes it just means you are looking.

However, to know what I am and was looking for, you must start with me a year or more before my journey began. You mustn’t come into this at the halftime with when I made the switch. You must start at the beginning for my outward journey was simply a late-breaking manifestation of my inward journey. This inward journey began in the summer of 2007, in an historical museum in Yorktown, Virginia.

THE INNER JOURNEY BEGINS

My family and I had gone to Virginia for vacation in the summer of that year and on the road there, I had the ability to read, in one sitting, Spencer Burke’s epic challenge, “A Heretic’s Guide to Eternity.” Immediately upon first reading, I emailed all my closest friends and told them to leave the book alone. Dangerous. In fact, I think I actually told them that it was the most “dangerous theological book I have ever read and it has the potential to completely fuck you up.” Why did it carry so much power? What about it caused such fear? The answer is simple: Truth. The truth is a powerful, no, the truth is the most powerful weapon and tool imaginable.

The thrust of the book was simple: “what if we’re wrong?” Now, it wasn’t asking that in a macrocosmic way that would question the very foundation of everything we believe and know...at least not on the surface. It began with simple questions about what most Evangelical Christians would consider non-negotiable issues of dogmatic truth - issues like what a person must do to be “saved”, whether or not the grace of God is simply poured out on those who claim it, or is it a gift given to all, is there a Jesus beyond the grasp of Christianity? These questions and others filled page after page as it forced me to examine my thoughts and beliefs and to grapple with rightly dividing Truth from Dogma, Faith from Fundamentalism, Infinity from Doctrine.

To go on much further about the book itself, would detract from the main goal of this writing which is to describe the state in which I found myself when I reached the next precipice, weilding an ax to my preconceptions and strong-handed grip on just how much I had finally reduced God to a being I could name, wrangle, corral, tame and control in my very understanding and description of the Force which we can barely comprehend let alone manage or manipulate.

Over the course of the next couple of weeks of vacation, I continued to read this book and explore the author’s intent and ideas. After my second reading, our family reached Yorktown, Virginia where my life was to come into contact with what I can only describe as the beginning of my own Abrahamic experience. Arriving at the Yorktown Victory Center Museum, we wandered around for a few hours until I found myself entranced in a timeline that traced recorded human history. The most recent event was the World Trade Center bombings on September 11, 2001. The oldest event recorded was 15,000 B.C. chronicled as the earliest recorded artfully decorated pottery in South America. Somewhere around 12,000 B.C. was listed on this timeline as the earliest evidence of boats in and around Japan. Around 8,000 B.C. had listed tools, cooking items and other evidences of civilization. Scattered up and down the timeline were events like the Battle of Waterloo, the assassination of Franz Ferdinand, the birth of Jesus, and Abraham leaving Sumeria, traveling into Egypt for about 15 years or so and finally settling into the Palestinian area, which happened somewhere between 2,800 and 2,500 B.C.

So, on the far left we have early civilization around 15,000 B.C. and then roughly 17,000 years later we have the 9/11/01 bombings in New York.

As this timeline began to sink in, I stood for what seemed like hours, just letting this thing chip away at my paradigms and dismantling my reality as it seemed to demand. I found myself in a struggle. There were too many factors all converging in on this one reality to keep me from being able to untangle it all enough to make sense of this universe anymore. In Christian scripture, we’re are told that the fundamental character of God dos not change. His immutable qualities are the constant of the cosmos and they are the glue that hold everything together. If this were true, then one of those qualities is God’s desire to reveal Himself to mankind and constantly seek out ways to reveal himself. If this were true, then why did we have to wait through at LEAST three quarters of recorded human history for Him to do something proactive like calling Abraham out of his people to search out a place and get to know Him on a more intimate basis? When you join that question with the study of how much Abraham’s Sumerian culture influenced the language of the Old Testament history books, and the Hebrews burgeoning monotheism from the Sumerian henotheistic tradition, it begins to unravel more than a couple of preconceptions about one’s faith. Things suddenly weren’t as cut and dried as they once were. What I began to see in the Abrahamic journey wasn’t a new religion, but a redefinition and restructuring of a cultural understanding of Reality. A clarification of sorts. This seemed consistent with the nature of the God that I thought I knew, but it was taking that immutable characteristic to a new level.

It became clearer to me that what we really have in Christian scripture is a God who has truly been on a pursuit of mankind, to put it in Christian terms, but that to think that pursuit started after God stayed silent for 14,000 years or so of recorded human history, or simply that His pursuit was exclusive to this one little tract of land we call the Middle East, and all other humanity can just go to hell...well, not only do we commit huge grievances in the name of God through this over-anthropomorphizing of His selectivity or cliquish behavior, but we also grossly misunderstand human, anthropologic development and world history.

All of this and more flooded through my head in those fifteen or twenty minutes that I stood looking at this timeline. That moment became a catalyst for a journey that outwardly began almost a year and a half later. As I found myself preparing to tell my congregation that I was no longer going to be their spiritual tour guide, I had to face the fact that my best preparations would still fall short. However, I knew that the only true equipment needed is a pure heart that passionately searches for truth. Even Jesus guaranteed that if we seek, we will find. If we are willfully and earnestly seeking after Truth, it would stand to reason that our journey will not be in vain. Jesus didn’t even qualify that statement with admonitions to seek, but only in the Torah and the Temple. The harsh reality of the Gospel stories found in the New Testament is that Jesus never once tried to start a new religion, and those who fight and die for it and by it, fight and die for something altogether different than the simple teachings He gave in his words and his deeds.

All who seek Truth are on a journey of soul and matter. These journeys are not epic, but they are heroic. If a person casts aside all fear and preconception to journey out into the hidden and unknown, in search of nothing less than Truth, their aspirations will be met with pain, disillusion, growth, loneliness and joy, but ultimately triumph and freedom. This is only the beginning of my journey. I will continue to write and post more as my time allows, but for now, this may potentially bring more questions to you than answers. Just be patient. You just might have to dig for your answers. In fact, I hope you do. They will mean more to you in the end than if I simply hand them to you with garnishes of stories and jokes.