WE WEREN'T REALLY sure what to do," Daniel Davison said, after his entire rap-metal band Luti-Kriss got "saved" at an Assemblies of God revival service. "But we figured we should stop cussing so much in our songs. And ... maybe we can write songs about God!" Inexplicably, the group changed its name to Norma Jean and by this August they were on the cover of HM magazine, the Christian music industry's premiere publication covering hard rock artists.
Such bands are a dime a dozen these days, though they cost a bit more than that to book. At one time, the Christian rock scene was a cultural ghetto, frequently ridiculed and easily avoided. But now Christian rock is big and loud; it'll shake your windows and rattle your walls.
It comes in all varieties. John Michael Talbot, a Roman Catholic, and Michael Card, a Baptist, write soft, reflective pieces informed by years of theological and liturgical study. Kirk Franklin revitalizes black gospel music with choir anthems spiked with rap, hip-hop and R&B.
A genre distinction is usually drawn between "contemporary Christian music" (ccm for short) and "modern worship music." The great majority of ccm artists do not envision their music being used in church (as is Talbot's, Card's and sometimes Franklin's); they expect it to be played in homes and automobiles just like regular pop music.
One Christian rock star told me, "I'm not trying to change what goes on in church. I think it would be a bad idea to make worship more entertaining. I just want to make entertainment more worshipful."
Typical of that trajectory is the aptly named Memphis blues band Big Tent Revival, which states in one of its songs: "The Bible talks about a book of names / Souls rescued from the flames / Tell me, brother, when it's all through / Will you know Jesus, and will He know you?"
Christian rock traces its roots to the Jesus movement of the early 1970s. Now that it's over 30, some of its aging hippie progenitors are beginning to wonder if it can still be trusted. The scene was once the haunt of radicals--anti-establishment Jesus freaks whose passionate piety sometimes covered a multitude of theological and musical sins. In the 1980s, it became an industry, and in the 1990s, an empire. In 2001, music categorized as ccm accounted for more than $1 billion in sales--up 12 percent in a year when the recording industry as a whole took a downturn. Newsweek ran a cover story on "Jesus Rock" and HBO's The Sopranos featured a humorous subplot about the mob family trying to get in on the action.
But is the music any good? More specifically, how does ccm hold up artistically (as music) and theologically (as a reflection of the Christian faith)?
Artists in the Christian rock scene have a tendency to copy the styles of successful mainstream performers in order to provide godly alternatives to whatever is popular at the time. Artists like Third Day ("the Christian Hootie and the Blowfish") and Rebecca St. James ("the Christian Alanis Morissette") have been marketed as though they were low-fat cheese: "almost as tasty as the real thing--and better for you!" Still, there are numerous artists who don't fit this stereotype, and even those who do often transcend it. Most of the major players in ccm perform at an artistic level consistent with that of the general market, with enough creativity to avoid being imitative.
It is hard to imagine anyone who likes Billy Joel or Paul Simon not enjoying Steven Curtis Chapman's musical style. Chapman is to pop music what The Waltons was to television: he has a sweet, homey and nostalgic sound. His songs have strong melodies and catchy hooks, like songs from the 1960s, and they are sung with warmth and tenderness.
BeBe and CeCe Winans are an African-American duo (brother and sister) who draw on both gospel and R&B roots to craft polished recordings that showcase their impressive vocal abilities. CeCe is Christian music's Whitney Houston, and Houston has cited CeCe as "my personal favorite singer." BeBe recently shook up the Christian music world with allegations of racism in the industry, accompanied by hints that he might abandon ship for a career in the general market. He told CCM magazine, "It's more difficult to be raped by people who are supposed to be kindred spirits than by people who don't know who Jesus is."
Jars of Clay has a less commercial sound that appeals to "alternative rock" fans drawn to groups like R.E.M. or Matchbox Twenty. The band has enjoyed some crossover success in the secular market. Its first album went double platinum with astonishing sales of over 2 million copies (making it one of the best-selling albums of 1996). The band's third disc was chosen by Playboy as Album of the Month. (Its fourth album, Eleventh Hour, was reviewed in the April 24-May 1 CENTURY.)
D.C. Talk is a vibrant, racially integrated group that has been on the cutting edge of the rock industry. Its best song, "Jesus Freak," is now a standard of modern rock. The first-ever wedding of rap and grunge, it succeeded in winning over many general market broadcasters--even Rolling Stone magazine loved it, though it ridiculed the lyrics. Often loud and brash, D.C. Talk can also be soulful and sensitive. In "What If I Stumble?" singer Toby McKeehan reflects upon his celebrity status: "What if I stumble? What if I fall? What if I go and make fools of us all?"
One of the biggest success stories in recent Christian music is the rapcore trio P.O.D. (short for Payable On Death). "Rapcore" is a relatively new style of music that sets rapped lyrics (usually screamed) to the sounds of heavy metal; it is not for the faint of heart. P.O.D. is good at it, though the group has received little support from the Christian music industry and quite a bit of criticism when it toured each year as part of the "Ozzfest," a raucous rock festival headlined by one of conservative Christianity's worst nightmares, Ozzy Osbourne. Over the years, the blatantly Christian band screamed its way into the hearts of rowdy crowds, and by 2002 it had sold millions of albums and become one of the hottest acts in the land. Suddenly P.O.D. was on the cover of HM magazine and was featured in the more cautious CCM, where the trio copped a bit of an attitude: "Oh yeah! Now you down with P.O.D.! Where was you before?"
In 1997, Rolling Stone reviewed a sampling of 30 Christian rock songs and rendered this verdict: the Christian songs were no more insipid or derivative than 30 songs "randomly selected from the Billboard Hot 100 in a given week." Such a backhanded compliment pays homage to the newfound professionalism of ccm, as compared to the atrocious production standards that marked the music for its first two decades. Today, the artists have talent, the producers have money and the companies have experience.
STILL, TALENT, MONEY and experience do not necessarily yield good art. The songs may be catchy and they may be performed well, and the music can still have the artistic appeal of advertising jingles. Frank Hart of Houston's hard-rock band Atomic Opera says that he hates most Christian music because it is "not art but propaganda."
Christian music fans often complain that bands like Sixpence None the Richer (named for a C. S. Lewis quote) or The Choir (an especially artistic combo of Episcopalians) don't mention Jesus enough in their songs. A band named All Star United recorded a song called "Smash Hit" in 1997 mocking this Christian music industry obsession ("Join his name to any cause, say his name to get applause"). Ironically, the song became a smash hit on Christian radio on the strength of its chorus ("This Jesus thing--it's a smash hit!").
The good news (artistically) for the Christian music scene is that these sorts of rebels continue to appear. Rock stars are hard to tame, and the ccm industry has seen a steady stream of artists like Larry Norman, The Seventy Sevens and Michael Knott who refuse to toe the line and do what is expected of them. They also tend to bite the hands that feed them, taking on the culture, the church and even the music business itself. I enjoy the irreverent humor (though not the music) of Christian goth band Dead Artist Syndrome: "Jesus I love you, but I don't understand your wife / She wears too much make-up and she always wants to fight / In my world of black and gray, she argues shades of white."
