Tanier on Connersvine

Funny stuff from Tanier about a Classic Colt

I like rock music. I am a Christian. Why do I hate Christian Rock?

Perhaps it’s Jesus Christ Superstar damage. I genuinely like that musical, always have, but ever since hearing it as a kid, I have thought that Christian rock should sound like that. There should be electric guitars, feedback, groovy breaks like the ones on Jefferson Airplane albums. Apostles should yell at each other and harmonize. Jesus should get a little bit prickly when confronted by money-changers or Roman prelates. Jesus Christ Superstar is about as rockin’ an overt exploration of biblical themes as I have ever heard, and that’s saying something, because it’s Andrew Lloyd Webber, for heaven’s sake.

Most contemporary Christian rock, by contrast, skimps on both the rock and the religion. The music is usually pasteurized coffee-house noodling, with accessible, forgettable melodies. The subject matter is also non-threatening and vague, as if the band is trying to sneak a little religion past you. There’s no reason that substantive modern music can’t mix with real religious imagery and themes. Listen to Johnny Cash sing a gospel standard, and you’ll be both entertained and moved to seek out your spiritual side. Mainstream Christian rockers are content to spout stealth-spiritual aphorisms over homogenized folk-rock, hoping for some Creed-like crossover.

At some level, I am reluctant to poke fun of Christian rockers, and not just because I fear a biblical flood in my Inbox. Christian rockers are generally nice, as are the well-scrubbed kids who buy their albums. Sure, they can be unctuous and moralizing, but they are no worse than the self-absorbed NPR folkies who lecture about globalization and organic foods as if the ability to harmonize transforms them into social philosophers. Christian rockers show up for concerts sober and volunteer at food banks in their free time, and their music is no more inoffensively offensive as the output of most American Idols. There’s no real dropoff in quality from Daughty to Connersvine, and at least Connersvine sings love songs to someone admirable, not the girl the roadies wrangled to kill tour bus boredom.