Strange Bedfellows

I mentioned in an earlier post, Strange Bedfellows is the one track on The Word in the Wind that I think may be the best candidate for use in worship. The chord sequence is borrowed from the closing section of the second movement of a guitar suite entitled Along the Great Western Road (Parts I-III). This suite itself has only been recorded in fits and starts over the years, rarely all in one session, but that's a story for another occasion. 

Here, the imagery of the text (Isaiah 11), which is read on the Second Sunday of Advent (Year A), suggests this common expression for something odd, and in this case, something oddly holy: "strange bedfellows," by virtue of his vision of diverse species – "predator and prey together" – living in such harmony under a future messianic reign that they may all safely take a nap together. By connecting the word "delight" with "fear," specifically, "the fear of the Lord," the prophet fairly insists that we set this fear apart as "like no other fear," as "something else." This qualitative difference that distinguishes "the peaceable kingdom" likewise requires that we think of such things as peace itself in fresh terms that transcend our mundane understanding of such things: "Don't measure peace in safety."

The percussive guitar sequence is not nearly as tricky as it sounds, though it does lend a nice texture, if I may say so myself. It's merely a matter of hammering the open string to get the syncopated effect. Meanwhile, the  electric guitar, though generally the sort of thing that seems to me incompatible with a worship setting, here evokes just that sense in which "something else is here." Certainly it has an awakening effect in an otherwise acoustic track.

Strange Bedfellows

1.  Don’t judge by what you see

Or decide by what you hear.

Don’t measure peace in safety.

But His delight is in the fear of the LORD,

In the fear of the LORD.

2.  Your eyes do not deceive you:

Wolves and lambs live in one accord.

Predators and prey together

Take their delight in the fear of the LORD,

In the fear of the LORD.

 Bridge It’s like no other fear.

   No, something else is here,

    Falling everywhere,

  Filling the pregnant air ...

3.  Consider well these strange bedfellows!

An everlasting peace restored!

Jesse’s issue, a child, shall lead them.

They take their cues in the fear of the LORD,

In the fear of the LORD.

New Kensington, PA;  November 27, 1999;

bridge added December 3, 1999

(Tuning: Standard; capo on 2nd fret)

Your Desert Snow

Well, we've had a fresh snow fall today, whitening the eastern Iowa landscape again, so perhaps its time to post the lyrics to Your Desert Snow. The inspiration for this is taken from two sources, the main one being Isaiah 35:1-10, which foretells a day when the desert shall bloom; the other inspiration is the likening of a winter snowscape to a desert, as suggested by an old jazz-rock fusion track by Bill Bruford's old self-titled band, Bruford, and the twins tracks: The Sahara of Snow, Part I and Part II. The music is nothing like Bruford's. Would that it were (but don't judge by the samples). His album One of a Kind is brilliant, but I can't find it on Amazon to show a link. The closest may be his compilation Rock Goes to College. What a great title, eh?

Meanwhile, the opening vibe sequence on my little track is an intentional quotation of one of several phrases woven together in the complex long fade from Imago Dei, a shameless (if perhaps too subtle) attempt to remind the friendly listener of the modest album that emerged a decade earlier and provide this link to the past.

The straight acoustic demo of this track is not too bad. I played it for a worship class last year, and they did not run from the classroom shrieking in horror, so I take that as a fairly good indicator of its non-crappiness. If I can figure out a way to upload the whole MP3 thing here, I may do so in future. Meanwhile, the recording that made it onto The Word in the Wind is another demo of sorts. Originally begun as test track for working out how to use ProTools LE (and for which I did not bother to change my guitar strings), the guitar track came out with sufficient accuracy I decided to keep it. At which point I changed the strings, which sound discernibly brighter in the closing "take off" section. The contrast is what Ringo Starr would call a "happy accident," one of those unplanned moments that just seemed to work.  

As far as the lyrics go, I suppose this could be construed as a worship song in the simplest, purest sense in that it is addressed to God and is based (mostly) on scripture. While the idea of a frozen snowscape is not (or is not likely) what the prophet had in view, I do like the idea that a heavy snowfall can impose a certain sabbatical pace on life and play a constructive, if restrictive, role in keeping those who might be tempted to indulge in all sorts of foolishness from going astray (Isa 35:10).

To be honest, I did not intend "a fluttering token" to bear any eucharistic significance, but should anyone read that into this song for Advent, I would not be inclined to protest. I hope you like it.

Your Desert Snow

1.  Desert dawns her wedding gown today

Streets and lanes gleam white and holy

Towering ice tree-lanterns play

Luminous with your gentle glory

2.  Rooftops melt into seamless sky

The snowy virgin’s cloak’s unbroken

Everything glows in the Sun’s goodbye

Each flake nothing, a fluttering token

3.  Not even fools will go astray

This shining morning when its 10 below

Sorrow and sighing shall fly away

At the joyful sound of your Son’s hello

The sweet smile of your desert snow

New Kensington, PA;  January 3, 1999

(Tuning: DADGAD; capo on 2nd fret)

Deep Blue Heart

As I have posted elsewhere, The Word in the Wind begins with two songs based on Advent texts, in this case, from the prophet Isaiah, runs through Christmas and Epiphany themes, and concludes with indications of the coming Passion. Tow instrumentals close out the album with but the slightest titular references to Lenten themes, specifically, to repentance and faith: Turn Around and Believers Leap. But the final song, just prior to these instrumentals, is Deep Blue Heart, originally penned as a bit of a love/break up song, but converted to something more theological, even covenantal, though deliciously ambiguous. Who is the poet here? And what will happen along the road to Jericho?

The vocals are not quite what I might have hoped, but again, the guitar riff is nice, especially the conclusion.

Deep Blue Heart

Something in the Wind says here we go

But my deep blue heart says I don't know

I think I would be wrong not to hear

the Word in the Wind

I think I would be wrong not to

recognize the fear

But I've never seen so many stars as

from beneath the terebinth

I've never had a hope so sure as when

you made it clear

Something in the sky says let it all go

But my deep blue heart says I don't know

So tell me how you would have me

use this earthly freedom

Show me how to love the heavenly

love that set me free

Love is not loved! Love is not loved by anyone!

But I know you require infinitely more of me.

Tonight I've got to go down the road

to Jericho

But my deep blue heart says I don't know

Decatur, GA; March 1994; Princeton, NJ;  July 21, 2001

Tuning:  Standard  (capo on 2nd fret)

When was the last time a Christian artist topped the charts?

Congratulations to Chris Tomlin, whose Burning Lights just did so, selling 73,000 copies. Yes, all such things are possible with God, perhaps especially at "the close of the age."

Here's the article at the Presbyterian Outlook, with a link to the full article at the New York Times.

UPDATED (January 27, 2013)

Theological poetics

It's nice to know there are still a few papers out there that have a poetry editor, especially when such folks are attuned to matters theological.

Grace Upon Grace

So, if The Word in the Wind were to yield up a "single" — I'm really stretching it, of course, since this little known CD has had no airplay whatsoever (though I would welcome any news that would prove me wrong on that score) — it would be Grace Upon Grace. Inspired by the Prologue to the Gospel of John, it grapples with understanding the Incarnation, whom we are told is "the light of all people." It also occurred to me that, much as we allow our talk about race and skin color to devolve into "black and white," when it comes to our "God with skin on," he mostly likely had what is sometimes called "olive skin," peculiar to Middle Eastern peoples. The song poses more questions than it answers, not least: How shall we respond to a God from whom we have received grace upon grace?

Here's the text, in the Papyrus font as used on the privately printed the 2001/3 version:

Grace Upon Grace

1. What can you say of all these layers of love

Sinking in to olive skin from spectral space

Radiating a genuine human sharing of grace upon grace?

2. Why do you talk so much and comprehend nothing

As light spills out your eyes and illumines your face?

Every word must bow before this Word in mortal

clothing  …for grace upon grace!

3. How can you begin to sift through mountains of blessings

Then find a fault with Jesus?  Now, state your case!

What do you think you really know of this God

in human dressing … but  grace upon grace?

4. So what can we say of all these layers of love

Sinking in to olive skin from spectral space

Radiating a genuine human sharing of grace upon grace?

                                                                                                           

 New Kensington, PA;  December 21-23, 1999

Tuning:  Standard  (capo on 4th fret)

I really like the naked guitar solo here — don't worry; just an expression —  as well as the understated, but very cool organ in the last go round. Especially when you hear the stuff that's actually on the radio, I'd say this merits airplay, and that's not just my bias talking.

Or if you prefer to sample without leaving the page

see the MP3 widget at right for a few highlights.

MP3s now up at Amazon (bumped)

The MP3s of two albums, A Soundtrack for the Close of the Age ...

and The Word in the Wind, are now up at Amazon.

The samples of Soundtrack are more representative than for Word in the Wind, which would benefit from gentle fades and from taking whole musical phrases, but you'll get the idea. (The clip from "Innocents' Day" is especially unfortunate, as it completely misses the substance of the song. Oh well.) I hope your iPod can find room them, but if not, then perhaps a bit of straw out back.

For more about these albums, see these previous entries on Soundtrack and The Word ...

Meanwhile, for the CD versions, see the links to CreateSpace at right.

Epiphany

I was reminded this morning of this poem, published several years ago in Theology Today, a portion of which I posted over at The Year D Project a while back when I ran across it on the web. But here is the whole thing in full, as it appears in The Just, Quiet Wind.

Matthew 2:1-12

The rustling of robes stirs the otherwise steady

rhythm of rustic rumination sends tiny

dust clouds pluming

The girl’s hand subtly fans the fouled air from

her infant’s face gracefully disguising the gesture

with her reach to disclose him

The visitors beam with eyes full of starfirelight

taking the passive child and passing him lightly

with expert elder hands of night

She is weary but welcoming of these trusty travelers

for she knows that they have borne their burdens

for a long time from a long way

Their speech is hushed as they kneel slowly one by one

producing small treasures from inside each chest

but none to match the miracle at her breast nursing

beneath the blue gown of winter ...

  New Kensington, PA;  October 4, 1997 — 

Somewhere along the way, I set this piece to music as well, but again, with no sung melody, just speech. Both poem and music date from the same period as the other "windy" material in question. I'm sure a demo exists, but clearly it didn't quite make the cut when it came to selecting material for the CD.

Psalm 1

Psalm 1, another spoken piece, is inspired (as should be obvious) by the image of the righteous person as a tree "planted by streams of water" (Ps 1:3). The memories in this poetic response to the psalm are from what I recall as my first childlike impression of a day that I hoped, and even felt, would never end: a long summer day in June when the neighborhood kids were playing sardines, and the gang ended up silently perched in the late twilight in the willow tree in our side yard. The tree was a wispy thing that did indeed reach and brush up against the wall outside the bedroom window. The poem is more literal than psychological, so don't read too much into such phrases as, you know, "June's dusky longing."

Here's the text, this one also included in The Just Quiet Wind.

I remember a willow tree

A great climbing tree with

Powerful roots dancing

Branches

Supple, strong, cradling 

Eleven children giggling and

One lost and searching

In the late light of June’s

Dusky longing

I remember a bruised sky

Silhouettes infiltrating the disappearing green

Shadows weeping

That willow held our world 

Aloft, the last support

The stalwart mast of sinking day

I remember that willow

By the streams of life

On which we made our beds

One thousand nightfingers

Kissing summer bedroom walls 

As we slept

On our river of dreams ...

Tarentum, PA;  June 16, 1997

The guitar riff is one I have used in worship on other occasions to accompany a scripture reading. As long as the reader is trained to pause at particular, well chosen junctures, it can be used to meditative and evocative effect in conjunction with any number of readings. 

Living Bread

Of the several songs on The Word in the Wind, three of them are not sung, but spoken after the manner of a number of Bruce Cockburn's tracks. In this case, the tracks in question are Psalm 1, Living Bread, and Innocents' Day. Here is the text for Living Bread, which may also be found in The Just Quiet Wind. 

1.  Manna bread on the desert floor

Nomadic hungry people grumble for more

But no one sees the giant eagle soar

On the breath of the Living Bread

2.  Living Bread takes a human form.

Those who know him best say, “It’s not the norm”

But they don’t comprehend the Spirit borne

In the meat of the Living Bread 

3.  The Living Bread comes down from heaven

He watches fools snort Pharisaical leaven

Queries “Is there none of you who would even

Care to taste my Living Bread?”

4.  The table is set and the wine is poured

Invitations sent and the open door

But no one wants to be the beggar begging for

Just a crust of the Living Bread ...

New Kensington, PA; August 10, 1997

(Tuning: Standard; capo on 2nd fret)

Now, if one were to use this track in worship, say at communion, one may wish to substitute the word "flesh" for "meat" in v. 2. I am not trying to evoke the image of a sandwich, but to emphasize the sense in which Jesus is speaking of his own flesh and blood (human) nature in John 6. 

This track was written, by the way, when I was serving Central Presbyterian Church, Tarentum, PA, in the Pittsburgh area, where the leading grocery chain is Giant Eagle. Oddly enough, however, I can honestly say I had no thought of this coincidence when I arrived at the phrase "giant eagle" as my chosen metaphor for the God of the Exodus in v. 2. It was months before that oddity even dawned on me. 

Something about the entrance of the strings after the first verse feels very poignant to me, as does the lyric as a whole. While detractors often mock the idea of God being lonely, I cannot help but ask, how could God suffer loneliness when he has been so thoroughly and consistently misunderstood, rejected, spurned, etc.? Isn't God's loneliness precisely what the cry of dereliction from the cross is all about?

UPDATED (January 27, 2013)

A Soundtrack for the Close of the Age

Q: So when is a soundtrack not a soundtrack? A: When it is not attached to some work of art, like a film or drama. Q: Why then A Soundtrack for the Close of the Age? A: Well, for one thing, since the Bible's apocalyptic texts speak, e.g., of "the sound of God's trumpet" (1Thess 4:16) and bear witness to seven angels being given seven trumpets that signal the events of the end (Rev 8:2), I have always liked the idea that the second coming should be accompanied by a soundtrack of sorts. But if that aim is perhaps a bit ostentatious — bear in mind, I don't presume my little record has passed the audition — then think of this as a soundtrack attached to a life, a minor opus that for me arose at a major transition, at the close of a chapter in my life, such a transition as many people experience when they leave everything, follow God's call, and go to seminary. (This was in the days before "distance theological education," but even distance students well understand this way of speaking.) Although I might not have always been able to put it this way, I think the eschatological and the existential are never as far apart as we think, and twenty years ago, the process of responding to the call to seminary sure felt like the end of the world, and in a very real way, it was indeed the end of my self-constructed existence. In the months after I resigned my job and before my seminary classes began, I recorded this material that I'd been working on in my spare time for several years, and in some cases, since college. (My poor roommate must have suffered no end as I plucked out The Call over and over again on his guitar, since I didn't own one myself.) 

Technically, this is the more professional and polished of the two CDs just re-released on CreateSpace, it having benefited from the talents of a proper engineer at the desk. The first musical track, ... And They Were Given Seven Trumpets, was the first track recorded on December 5, 1990. Say what you will, it still rocks!

The rest was done in a couple of long sessions which consisted of simply transferring the keyboards onto tape, usually with a single pass, and then adding the guitar or lead synth tracks in the studio. The Spirit is Like the Wind and He Got the Devil on the Run is, to my mind, the most satisfying track, since as far as the composition goes every note just seemed to just fall into place.

Lament has seen some use in traditional worship, in the hands of Barry Davies, former organist at Columbia Seminary, and the late Vanessa Gail Knight (flute), who breathed real life and spirit into it on at least three occasions. [Barry kindly transcribed it for me, but I can't seem to find the score. I know I've got it around the house somewhere ...]

Applecross takes its name from a village in Scotland. While I know the fruit from the tree of the knowledge of good and evil was probably not an apple (!), it has been depicted as such so many times, it serves as a symbolic shorthand for the fallen state of the world, while the cross is, of course, God's triumphant answer to sin. Thus the piece unfolds in two distinct parts. If the first part sounds like the machinations of fear, that's what is intended, while the closing section is unapologetically triumphalistic and decisively outbids the former.

Oran Mor (lit. "Great Song") is so named for the simple fact that these chords seem to me inexhaustibly uplifting and inspiring — thus the reprise in Oran Beag (lit. "Little Song")— the peregrinations (and chord progressions) of a soul set free. 

The Call is an old piece that evolved over the long process of my discernment of the same. It's the one solo guitar track on this record, and my earliest composition. Engineer Jack Black (no relation to that other guy, as far as I know) did a fine job of miking my Ovation guitar so as to sound both deep and bright, but not plastic as they often do. 

Aqua Vitae is probably the second oldest composition, at least in terms of achieving a near final form. My friend Steve Mann chides me for having the trumpets way too loud in the mix, and he is probably right, but the trumpets and bells are meant to connote the brightness of the Water of Life, and I can only think such brightness should — at least at first — make one wince. 

Imago Dei, written and recorded in 1993 in Glasgow, Scotland, was added as a bonus track, and is to my mind the coolest of the lot. For this I was borrowing time in Andy Thornton's Jump Studio, as well as his keyboards, so it was inspiring to have a whole fresh bank of sounds to work with. It was written as a track for the Late Late Service as we were heading to the Greenbelt Festival (1993). Andy added the vocal effects, which really completes the track, and makes it "say something." Imago Dei, juxtaposed with the traditional spoken (word-only) testimony with which the record opens, completes the framework, and leaves us with the realization that, now it falls to us as people of faith to "find the words," and to do so in a way that reflects "in whose image" we were created and "in conformity to whose image" we have been restored: "when he is revealed, we shall be like him!"

My attempts to shop around this album of "instrumental contemporary Christian music" — in the early 1990s, when Phil Keaggy was about the only guy who could get away with such a thing (and that's not much of an exaggeration) — met with no response from record companies, whether secular or Christian, and I soon had other things on my plate. Meanwhile, it still sounds good to me, twenty years on, this despite the commercial "tune out" at the beginning: a recitation of The Apostles' Creed. Dave Stewart (of Hatfield and the North/National Health/Stewart & Gaskin, not the Eurythmics) — I still have his postcard somewhere) was gracious to listen to the whole thing (i.e., the 1991 version) and comment on it; he cautioned me regarding the cost of its overtly religious references, and he was right. Nevertheless, the statement of faith was, and still is to my mind, the only credible jumping off point for such a project. If debut albums are generally self-titled, my aim here was to set that aside, and place the profession of the faith of the church down through the ages squarely up front. 

Meanwhile, Dave's other advice proved itself as well. He basically said, "Get more gear." The idea was to have greater variety in one's sonic pallet, which in turn inspires more compositional and conceptual ideas. In the case of Imago Dei, that is precisely what happened: all new (albeit borrowed) gear, a whole new major idea. Of course, if I ignored his advice in the one instance (as a matter of faith, by which I would also attribute such inspiration to the Spirit more than to musical gear per se), in this case I ignored it for having to make do on a student income. 

For all its production flaws and technological limitations, the CD as a whole models the meticulous use of an Alesis HR-16 drum machine to emulate a real drummer. Others may make similar claims for their elaborate use of the same instrument, but I decided early on that I did not want the "drum box" sound of the 1980s. Believe me, there is not a hit out of place here, but neither would it be impossible for a real drummer (someone with only two hands and two feet) to strike every beat, riff, roll, crash, thud, ... you get the idea.

Well, the harvest time has come. I can keep you no longer. Now, fly away, little Soundtrack! May you finally make your mark in the world, and pierce the hearts of many a called one!

The Word in the Wind

Jesus said, "every scribe who has been trained for the kingdom of heaven is like the master of a household who brings out of his treasure what is new and what is old” (Matthew 13:52). Well, here is something old:

The Word in the Wind consists of mostly guitar-based songs and a few instrumental tracks (fourteen tracks in all), written in seminary and during my first pastorate, and recorded about ten years ago (2001). Several of the poems recently published in The Just, Quiet Wind are set to music here (see, e.g., Psalm 1, Living Bread, There is a Reason); the songs are inspired by texts from the Advent/Christmas/Epiphany cycle of the liturgical year, while their sequence reflects the progress from prophetic (Isaianic) expectation (Your Desert Snow, Strange Bedfellows) through the nativity (Grace Upon Grace, The Oxen, Christmas Joy, Innocents' Day) to the call to discipleship (Baptism at Nuweiba, The Response, There is a Reason, Deep Blue Heart, Believers Leap). Like its precursor, A Soundtrack for the Close of the Age (1991), The Word in the Wind may be only loosely described as a concept album, but here the concept, if it is discernible at all, will be most apparent to those who are accustomed to reading, telling, living, and rejoicing in the gospel of salvation according to the Christian year; in the case of instrumental tracks, however, even listeners who have this leg up will have little more than a title, a mode, and a mood, to go on.

This record, by the way, is really of demo quality, so don't expect, you know, Abbey Road. If you compare the vocals to Bob Dylan or Leonard Cohen, and the production quality to all those archived demos that old bands from the 60s and 70s are cleaning out of their closets, then perhaps your expectations won't be dashed to smithereens. And if you can listen as those do who consider Disc 1 of the late, great Rich Mullins' Jesus Record far and away the most moving and poignant of the two (as I do), then perhaps you'll hear and receive these tracks in the Spirit in which they were intended.

I'll tell the story of Soundtrack in a separate post. As for The Word in the Wind, all work on mastering and post-production — to the extent all this was even possible in the cramped little corner of our living room on Farber Road (in Princeton Seminary's married student housing, since razed and replaced) — was preempted when, on returning from a lovely morning walk along the canal one beautiful September day, we were greeted with the news that the twin towers were down. "Down!?" That was the word on the webpage, and it took several attempts to even begin to imagine what was being said. For the next few weeks thereafter, we, like the rest of the world, could think of nothing else. In short, the record sounds pretty much as it did on the evening of September 10, 2001. It seems like a lifetime ago. For all that, I hope you like it. More specifically, I hope it brightens the dark days of the year for you with the light of Christ, the light of faith, hope, and gospel promise. Who knows — it may even yield a new song or two ... or even three for the canon of contemporary praise and worship songs. May it be so. 

My own favorites tracks: Your Desert Snow, Strange Bedfellows, Grace Upon Grace, Living Bread, Christmas Joy, and Turn Around. Meanwhile, someone can correct me if I'm wrong, but as far as I know this is the first time Thomas Hardy's poem, The Oxen, has been set to music. Perhaps that is a text and a track that should make it over the threshold into worship at Christmas? I'd like to think so. [UPDATE: But what was I thinking? "The Oxen" was set to music as Part VII in Vaughan Williams' Christmas cantata, "Hodie." Duh.]

[NB: MP3s should be available at Amazon in a week or so. Meanwhile, to request a free review copy, just leave a comment with your mailing address.]

[UPDATE: The MP3s are up. The samples are somewhat rough and not always the most representative snapshot of the track in question. The samples for Soundtrack are better.]