There is no new thing under the sun.
-ECCLESIASTES 1:9
Oh, readers, hear my woe, for I have been washed in the
blood.
I have come to know the musical stars of Portland Festival
'99. I have abided with their hit singles. I have pondered
their lengthy biographies. I have adorned my iMac screen
with a photo of Audio Adrenalin cold-kickin' it with the
Rev. Billy Graham. I have sojourned with the smooth sounds
of 4HIM, Third Day and the rest. I know of the joy they
inspired amongst the multitudes of Waterfront Park. I have
learned of the deep love they all profess for the Lord,
and I've come to believe that love is real and true. And
I have come to testify:
They suck. Verily they do.
In last 10 years, the once-fragmented and isolated "praise
music" world has coalesced into a potent moneymaker. According
to the Gospel Music Association, the 871 Christian titles
released in the first six months of 1999 moved a staggering
20.5 million units, an increase of 21 percent over the same
period in 1998. In an industry that's been plagued by lulls
at the cash register, the revealed truth is clear: The Lord
selleth.
That fact has given once-dowdy Christian music a new face.
Slick labels sell the music. The Dove Awards, a mutual-appreciation
lovefeast every bit as gratuitous as the Grammys, honor
the hitmakers. As in the mainstream pop market, Christian
genres and subgenres swarm like a plague of locusts.
There's the Christian swing of the W's, the Christian techno
of Revelation, the Christian death metal of Warlord, whose
menacingly titled new album, Rock the Foe Hammer,
spins in my player even now. God-fired punk rockers can
turn to Tooth & Nail Records, a Seattle label that claims
to be the Northwest's largest indie operation. Portland's
own godly scene was represented at Luis Palau's festival
by The Tribe Called Judah, one of many acts looking to fuse
hip-hop, R&B and Christianity.
In fact, no matter what kind of music you're into, it's
a good bet that the Christian community can serve up a reasonable
pastiche, purged of all that icky secular humanism. Unfortunately,
this step-for-step shadowing of the mainstream means God's
musical soldiers aren't conquering a lot of new ground.
While this depressing state of affairs holds across the
board, Luis Palau managed to bag a particularly unchallenging
quartet of big names and a flock of pulse-deadening smaller
acts.
I would never cast aspersions upon the sincerity with which
they profess their faith. Still, if there's a rock 'n' roll
heaven, these guys ain't making the soundtrack. As the dust
settles from Palau's rockin' altar call, it's time to weigh
the merits of his four biggest musical allies.
POINT
OF GRACE
Modus Operandi: Overly processed four-way harmonies
landing somewhere between elevator bubble-gum and extremely
lite country. The well-coiffed quartet embodies every Godly
young man's most troublesome hormonal hallucination: anti-skeptic
All-American beauties who profess chastity until marriage.
Secular Analogue: Wilson Phillips on a good day.
Hit Factor: P.O.G. rules the charts, with about
1.5 million records sold.
Words of Wisdom: "Learning from different mistakes/Learning
to give instead of just take/But when we all start to blend/We'll
be like colors surrounding the sun as it sets."
THIRD
DAY
Modus Operandi: Quintessential Gen-X dudes from
down South with bad bleach jobs and geek glasses.
Secular Analogue: Matchbox 20 climbs into the sack
with some unholy spawn of Black Crowes and Counting Crows.
Hit Factor: Nine No. 1 singles, three Dove awards.
"Take My Place" actually kinda, um, rocks.
Words of Wisdom: According to a spunky interview
tidbit, "Some of the coolest stuff we do is unplanned!"
4HIM
Modus Operandi: Super-clean-cut J. Crew types peddling
polite vocal-heavy rock so mid-tempo you barely notice it's
there.
Secular Analogue: These guys compare themselves
to Chicago, Kansas and Ambrosia.
Hit Factor: The Basics of Life went gold
in '96, and they played a mammoth pre-Super Bowl Promise
Keepers rally in San Diego last year.
Words of Wisdom: None to speak of, though they did
inspire a massive sing-along during PF99.
AUDIO
ADRENALINE
Modus Operandi: The alt-rock hitmakers of the Christian
scene, the strapping young bucks of Audio Adrenaline look
more like Pearl Jam than Pearl Jam itself. Grim as the scenario
may be, if I had to choose one of Palau's famous foursome
to listen to through 40 days of exile in the desert, I'd
pack along AA.
Secular Analogue: You can hear everything from commercial
pop-punk to EMF-style dance jams in 'Adrenaline's ecumenical
sound. A few songs could definitely kickstart the mosh,
dude.
Hit Factor: Two Dove awards and counting.
Words of Wisdom: "Pray for us, that we make an album
that's relevant to kids today--and that rocks!" This and
other gems available at www.audioa.com.
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Willamette Week | originally
published August 25,
1999
|
