By John Wofford
GENRE: ALTERNATIVE
LABEL: BARSUK RECORDS
RELEASE DATE: SEPTEMBER 1, 2009
RATING: 5 OUT OF 5
Captured on a small camera phone in his faded jeans and dull blue tee shirt, a grizzled David Bazan plays a house show on his lone acoustic guitar. His voice rises with unease, his throat strained and cracking. Beneath his seat, his legs rock and shake and sometimes strike out. It’s a simple gesticulation, a tic, but in it is a key to understanding his faith—or, some might argue, lack thereof. Underneath Bazan’s calm, unassuming exterior lays a disquiet that comes to the surface in subtle idiosyncrasies, signals fidgety and nervous. Formerly of Pedro the Lion, Bazan’s break-up with Evangelical Christianity has been heavily publicized. The inspirational music sector seems a bit afraid to touch his work, some going so far as to reinterpret his past as prophesying his present: “too many questions leads to apostasy!” and all that. Few gird up the courage to clothe themselves in their doubt. Bazan is nonplussed; God is on trial. Call the first witness.
If this, his first full-length solo LP, Curse Your Branches is a prosecution of the divine, he makes an extraordinary case. Mainstream praise settles on that explanation, while liberal Christianity (gasp!) does what they always do: make a doubter into a poster boy. There’s nothing wrong with this reaction. For those of us with more questions than answers it seems only natural to make someone as commanding and poetic one of the leading representatives for a particular brand of faith. It’s a disservice to Bazan, however, to reduce this vibrant, deeply troubled act of musical bravery to a mere cultural idol. There’s a great interaction happening between man and God while Bazan curses and cries. The best thing any of us can do is watch redemption unfold in all its painful, sometimes awkward, beauty.
For a project with this level of sophistication, I expected a great deal of sonic pretense. Bazan has more in common with a “Billboard band” (read: anything on pop charts in the last five years) than he does the heavy hitters of the art-rock scene. Even the album’s longest track, “Hard to Be,” which questions the validity of the creation story in Genesis, sports a radio friendly melody and shuffling percussion. No complex instrumentation. Straightforward lyricism. It’s so easy to swallow, so very human and accessible, which I imagine is what makes it scary to the Fundamentalist crowd. Bazan’s pain is vivid and real, and his music can appeal to a host of younger Evangelicals with their own questions, which may not bode well if taken and processed to the detriment of the movement.
The album’s title track still haunts me upon this writing. While questioning the idea of accepting propositional truths as a means of receiving salvation from God, he sings the simplest, most heartbreaking of lines to his wife: “When I sleep I’m usually dreaming, but more and more, there’s only one—that every hired gun I’ve ever fired is making love to you, while I look on.” Sandwiching this confession on both sides is the song’s notion that a God who predestines his children to heaven or hell instead of redeeming them all is both unjust and evil. It’s harsh, dangerous, and beautiful all at the same time.
“Harmless Sparks” briefly touches on the Catholic sex scandals, which so ravaged the church for years. Bazan’s argument—that these priests and nuns should have been allowed to indulge their sexuality together rather than abusing the young—will certainly offend some. He cries with the families of victims, and, I imagine, so does God. The track’s climax hinges on a pitch perfect melody.
I could go on and on. Part of me wants to take each track individually and expound. Bazan is a paradoxical musician: a man with the fervor of a tent-revival evangelist who can’t decide whether God is for him or against him, and the resulting album is a stunning portent of the doubt that’s a vital part of encountering God at all. Few projects will ever conjure such strong feelings as this one, and many will doubtless find themselves uncomfortable or angry at the blatant way with which Bazan dissects Christianity. Personally, I’ve found only two other albums this year that have moved me so profoundly. The first was U2’s No Line on the Horizon. The second was Derek Webb’s Stockholm Syndrome. In a way, this is a trinity of doubt and fear, articulated with all fieriness and, yes, conviction. Buy this album. Buy it for yourself. Buy it for your friends. Just get it. And thank God for it.
We’re not likely to see another year like this in music for some time.
“Sandwiching this confession on both sides is the song’s notion that a God who predestines his children to heaven or hell instead of redeeming them all is both unjust and evil. It’s harsh, dangerous, and beautiful all at the same time.”
It seriously saddens me so much that people view God’s grace and redemption this way. I can understand how people might arrive at that conclusion, but I disagree whole-heartedly, and it just makes me sad.
This whole album makes me sad, actually. Artistically, it’s beautiful, but the views he’s arrived at are just tragic. It’s not the fact that he’s honest about his views; for that he is being and should be commended. And I’m not someone who thinks believers can’t have doubts. We all do at times. But from interviews I’ve heard from David, he’s not just doubting; he’s rejecting God and the gospel of Jesus Christ. That’s always tragic, whoever it is doing the rejecting.
I think you miss the point, Matthew. Bazan doesn’t reject the notion of God at all, and he tends to lean toward Jesus more often than not. But John Calvin’s rather silly teachings about “election” do get put on trial, along with a number of other doctrines that have formulated themselves in 2,000 years of Christian history.
By “a number of other doctrines” I mean things like original sin (which wasn’t adopted until sometime after the Apostles — isn’t a Jewish ideal at all), celibacy of the priesthood (directed more toward the Catholic side of the fence), etc. He takes a great deal of time to affirm Jesus’ beatitudes, offering his own spin on those ideas, and it all comes off respectfully. Basically, Bazan is a man who can’t understand why faith in God LOOKS a certain way, sounds a certain way, is articulated a certain way. There’s a reason he still performs at Cornerstone. The man’s wrestling with God, even if he’s thrown out a lot of the teachings of guys like Calvin and Luther (among others) along the way.
When I said he was rejecting God and the gospel of Jesus, I was referring to an interview where he essentially said that himself. He doesn’t do this quite as explicitly on this album, you’re correct. He may be holding on to a view of God, but he’s definitely rejecting the one presented in the Bible. That was my point.
Also, “election” wasn’t something silly invented by John Calvin. It’s in the Bible, clear as day. Debates over how election and predestination work have been happening since (where Calvin came in), but your beef there is with the Bible, which I know is probably the issue.
My point wasn’t even relating to election, though. My point is that when someone rejects a faith that I consider vital to life, it’s sad. I don’t really care if people reject certain “doctrines” that have “formulated themselves” (although the VAST majority are just articulations of the Bible), I care when they reject the gospel, which Bazan has. I’m not criticizing him for it. I’m not attacking him. I’m sad for him.
I still think that Bazan’s rejecting less of God and more of the aesthetic. I could be wrong, but when he condemns his own alcoholism, reflects on the pain he’s caused his family, and practically begs God for a straight path (“Bless this Mess” is a prime example) he seems quite close to the founding tenets of Christianity: we need Him, He doesn’t need us.
I don’t care if he rejects Calvin and Luther.
Original sin is from Romans. The term might not have been adopted immediately, but the concept is from the bible. (I also found it interesting that you say it’s not a Jewish concept. Interestingly, election is.) Celibacy of the priesthood is wrong and has no biblical backing, and deserves to be rejected. As far as the Beatitudes, being “respectful” of those teachings (and you’d have a hard time finding that many people to disagree with them) is a far cry from being a follower of Christ reconciled to God through his death on the cross.
I found the interview I was talking about. Viewable here.
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Interviewer: What do you consider yourself now? Are you agnostic, atheist, a practicing Christian?
Bazan: The real answer is I don’t know. I certainly am not an atheist. I suppose that would put me in the agnostic category, but not in the sense of a hard agnostic or somebody who–I just don’t know. I’m not a practicing Christian. I don’t believe in any of the major doctrines of Christianity.
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So clearly, Bazan isn’t a Christian. That’s what I found sad on the album. He’s rejected the truth. As I said, it’s still an impressive album artistically. I think what you took issue with was me saying he was rejecting God. Clearly he still talks a lot about God and (depending on the day) might still believe in God. But I equate rejecting Christianity with rejecting God.
The concept of Original Sin deviates a bit from “Old Testament” teachings, namely in that the large majority of Jews don’t teach that sin entered the world through the acts of a woman, thereby making women subservient to men (1 Timothy 2: 11-15), and saved through the act of childbirth and/or spiritual modesty, utmost silence, and subjection to her husband. Jews ultimately believe that sin entered the world through the acts of a PERSON (Eve’s gender not being of importance).
The doctrine of election in Judaism is also interesting because, while they understand themselves to be God’s chosen people, they also believe that others who uphold the same basic moral laws as passed down by Moses are grafted into this family. They fully believe in the power of free will and personal responsibility as being vital to receiving the saving grace of God.
That all being said, I’m slowly learning not to engage these sorts of questions in a public forum. For one thing, it looks bad that any one of us would spend any amount of time at all trying to “correct someone on the internet who is wrong” but also because ultimately it becomes a matter of “reject these ideas and you’re off to Hell,” which in my case may or may not be true, but all that can be asked of a man is that he follow his convictions.
My goal is not to “correct someone on the internet who is wrong.” I tend to think debate is healthy. I know what I believe, but interacting with those who think differently is good for both sides. I don’t think I have everything figured out, and being challenged helps you grow. And I don’t think I said anything to the effect of “reject these ideas and you’re off to Hell.”
I’m sorry if that’s how my words came across.
It’s not your fault, Matt. I’ve got a long, long arduous past that I’m working through slowly, and it sometimes comes out when I’m having discussions with others. I actually respect you a great deal, which I don’t think I’ve ever said. I just don’t handle the friction very well. Go in peace, my friend. Maybe I can tell you the story sometime.
Thanks, John. The respect is mutual. And I would love to hear the story.