Monday, December 19, 2016

MUSIC AND RELIGION Christmas Curiosities


The Christmas season carries with it a rich musical heritage. There is of course the long tradition of liturgical music and hymns associated with the religious festivals, along with more modern takes on the increasingly commercialized ethos of what we now know as the "holidays." In fact, to the consternation of some, "Christmas music" has become ever harder to avoid from at least late October to late December as it is ubiquitously broadcast on radio, television, online, and in-store sound platforms. 

It should come as no surprise that pop and rock musicians would get in on the Christmas act. Many performers have covered both traditional and non-traditional Christmas standards, from "O Holy Night" to "Santa Claus is Coming to Town." Some of these are admittedly tongue-in-cheek, while others are more earnest attempts. Occasionally, they border on the surreal and have involved some rather unlikely musical pairings. After all, who ever thought to put Bowie and Bing in a room together for a holiday duet of "The Little Drummer Boy"? On paper, it shouldn't work, but for better or worse, the results are modern a Christmas classic (as is Will Ferrell and John C. Reilly's hilariously deadpan parody).



Or, as I recently discovered through some digital archaeology, members of Thin Lizzy and the Sex Pistols once performed under the name "Greedies" a (rather rocking) medley of Christmas classics live of British television. See it for yourself!



As for original Christmas compositions, some of the greatest songwriters of all time have made attempts, including both Lennon and McCartney, with mixed and sometimes annoying results. In other cases the results have been downright peculiar. The recently deceased proto-progger Greg Lake, of ELP and King Crimson, wrote what essentially amounts to an anti-Christmas song called "I Believe in Father Christmas."

They sold me a dream of Christmas
They sold me a silent night
And they told me a fairy story
'Till I believed in the Israelite
And I believed in father Christmas
And I looked to the sky with excited eyes
'Till I woke with a yawn in the first light of dawn
And I saw him and through his disguise



Whereas others, such as the ever enigmatic Chris De Burgh, delve into somewhat speculative territory with "A Spaceman Came Travelling," which re-imagines the nativity as...um...an alien visitation.

A spaceman came travelling on his ship from afar,
'Twas light years of time since his mission did start,
And over a village he halted his craft,
And it hung in the sky like a star, just like a star



Not to be outdone, even punk, that most anarchic and anti-traditional of musical movements, has gotten into the Christmas spirit. Who better than the Ramones to add "Merry Christmas (I don't wanna fight tonight)" to the yuletide playlist.




The excessive '80s heard Wham's now classic "Last Christmas" as well as Band Aid's increasingly odd sounding "Do They Know it's Christmas," released as a fund raiser for Ethiopian famine. Then, of course, there was Run DMC's "Christmas in Hollis."

As for the 1990s, well, they brought us this...



If God came down on Christmas Day
I know exactly what He'd say
He'd say "Oi to the punks and Oi to the skins-
But Oi to the world and everybody wins!"

All of these efforts result in some rather curious additions to the holiday songbook. Still, they reveal the on-going intersection between the sacred and the secular in new, interesting, if not always pleasing, ways. One can only imagine what future ear-worms will emerge from the Christmas musical catalogue.  











































Sunday, December 4, 2016

A NEW CONSTANTINE?



I imagine there are some Christian supporters of Trump who see him as a new Constantine. They probably envision him as a champion of their particular brand of American Christianity, an apostle of the so-called “prosperity gospel,” and a hammer against heretics and infidels. In the apocalyptic delirium of many Evangelicals and conservative Catholics, he must seem like a political saviour. Someone who will bring to an end the “Great Persecution” in which they currently cast themselves as victims. Forced as they are by their demonic government to sell wedding cakes to same-sex couples and share bathrooms with transgender people. Not since the bloody days of Diocletian has the Christian cause been so under threat…or so they tell themselves.

Unlike Trump, Constantine was a military man. Trained from a young age to ascend the ranks of Roman governance and eventually take his place as a member of the Tetrarchy, a complex system of co-emperorship established by Diocletian in the late 3rd century CE. Yet, Diocletian’s reforms eventually unravelled into persecution and social chaos. Christians were scapegoated for society’s ills and a campaign for their eradication was instigated in 303 CE. In the midst of this violent upheaval, Constantine successfully manoeuvered himself to pre-eminence by plugging himself into the Christian cause, embodied by his famous vision of the cross at the Milvian Bridge—in hoc signo. Eventually, a series of edicts reversing anti-Christian policies created the conditions for an alliance between Church and State. Constantine for his part saw Christianity as a unifying force for a fractured empire, while Christian bishops saw the soldier-emperor as a vehicle to advance their cause. Was he really a Christian? It’s hard to know for sure, although he and his Christian supporters certainly found their arrangement mutually beneficial. Early on, peace and co-existence between Christians and believers in the old gods were officially promoted, but by the end of the century religious practices were being banned, temples were being closed, and "pagans" were being invited to choose between the Bible or the sword.

Not all Christians were on board with this political alliance. The wealth and opulence of the new Christian elite was sometimes criticized (Jerome, Life of Paul of Thebes 17), as was the sycophantic fawning of the clergy who now populated the imperial court (Sulpicius Severus, Life of Martin of Tours 20). In fact, part of what may have motivated the first monks to head out into the desert was a repudiation and protest against the “new normal” of Imperial Christianity. Christ, once depicted in popular iconography as a shepherd, was now cast as a Roman soldier.


If there’s one thing that the history of the church makes clear, it’s that some Christians will do almost anything to claim the sword of Caesar. No teaching of Jesus is deemed too essential to be sacrificed on the alter of imperium. Yet rarely is this sentiment universal throughout the church. There will always be those that cling to the original vision of a saviour who was not a champion, but rather a victim of empire.

The 4th century CE church historian Eusebius of Caesarea recorded a troubled impression of this new order. One that is read with great ambiguity. Reflecting on the celebrations around the twentieth year of Constantine’s reign, the church father recalled:

Not one of the bishops was wanting at the imperial banquet, the circumstances of which were splendid beyond description. Detachments of the bodyguard and other troops surrounded the entrance of the palace with drawn swords, and through the midst of these the men of God proceeded without fear into the innermost of the imperial apartments, in which some were the emperor's own companions at table, while others reclined on couches arranged on either side. One might have thought that a picture of Christ's kingdom was thus shadowed forth, and a dream rather than reality (Eusebius, Life of Constantine 15).

The image of bishops processing through the ranks of imperial storm troopers is certainly an incongruous one. As is the thought of them reclining with a man who murdered members of his own family. Kingdom of Christ to some, disturbing dream to others.

One thing is clear. In the wake of Trump, Christians of all denominations have a lot of soul-searching to do. Will some finally and definitively walk away from the gospel in favor of a narrow desire to impose uniformity of sexual norms, expelling foreigners, and limiting the rights of their neighbours? In that case a new American religion will have been created. Call it what you want, but don’t call it Christianity. Or will others finally, perhaps for the first time, start taking the gospel seriously? Christians are often caricatured as literalists, at least when it suits their social agenda. But rarely do they take the words of Jesus himself at face value.

Perhaps it’s time for the Christians of America to ask themselves: “Lord, when was it that we saw you hungry or thirsty or a stranger or naked or sick or in prison, and did not take care of you?” (Mt 25:44).


A lot depends upon the answer. 

Friday, November 25, 2016

MUSIC AND RELIGION The Who's Tommy



After a string of anthemic and ear-catching pop hits, like "My Generation," "Pictures of Lily," and "The Kids Are Alright," British rock band the Who dropped an unexpected masterpiece in 1969. Having cultivated a reputation as among the most riotous and violent groups of the British Invasion, few might have expected this foray into high classical art, although there was an inkling with the miniature song cycle "A Quick One While He's Away" (1966).



Tommy is a concept album, or "rock opera," (largely written by Pete Townshend) about a traumatized young boy who becomes the messianic founder of a New Age religious commune. Over 45 years later, the album serves as a fascinating case-study in the spirituality of the 60's counter-culture, the links between religious and traumatic experience, as well as the formation of new religious communities.




The story begins, as so many religions do, with an act of violence--in this case a murder. Tommy's father, Captain Walker, comes home from the war only to find that his wife has taken a lover. Walker's murder of the rival is unfortunately witnessed by the young Tommy who is told by his parents that he didn't see or hear anything. Moreover, even if he did, he shouldn't say anything to anyone. As such, Tommy is forced to carry a "traumatic secret" that causes him to shut down and lose the ability to see, hear, or speak. 



The "deaf, dumb, and blind boy" (in the language of the album) is then compelled to turn inward, where he gains a heightened spiritual awareness and goes on a mystical "Amazing Journey."


Deaf Dumb and blind boy, he's in a quiet vibration land
Strange as it seems his musical dreams ain't quite so bad
Ten years old with thoughts as bold as thought can be
Loving life and becoming wise in simplicity

Sickness will surely take the mind
Where minds can't usually go
Come on the amazing journey
And learn all you should know

A vague haze of delirium creeps up on me
All at once a tall stranger I suddenly see
He's dressed in a silver sparked glittering gown
And His golden beard flows nearly down to the ground

Nothing to say and nothing to hear and nothing to see
Each sensation makes a note in my symphony

Sickness will surely take the mind
Where minds can't usually go
Come on the amazing journey
And learn all you should know

His eyes are the eyes that transmit all they know
Sparkle warm crystalline glances to show
That he is your leader and he is your guide
On the amazing journey together you'll ride



The key phrase here--"sickness will surely take the mind where minds can't usually go"--speaks to the fact that testimonials of religious experience are very often connected to various forms of illness. This does not necessarily imply causation, but it is a common pattern. From the medieval visionary Julian of Norwich's revelatory "showings" to modern accounts of near death experience, medical crises tend to give rise to a variety of spiritual encounters. 



Unaware of his interior life, members of Tommy's family agonize over his spiritual well-fare. Can he indeed be saved if he does not perceive and know Jesus? Their exclusivist Christian outlook causes them considerable anxiety in the song "Christmas":

And Tommy doesn't know what day it is
Doesn't know who Jesus was or what praying is
How can he be saved from the eternal grave?



As the story progresses, there are a variety of attempts to heal Tommy, including a local hustler's suggestion that "his woman" could cure Tommy by means of her sexual power, effectively giving "Eyesight to the Blind." In fact, the theme of sexuality appears at multiple points in the story, not only as a means of potential healing, but as further traumatization. Due to his vulnerability, Tommy is sexual abused by his uncle Ernie and subjected to an attempted seduction by the "Acid Queen."



The one outlet that Tommy finds in his isolation is a remarkable ability to play pinball--a veritable "Pinball Wizard." In this way, he becomes a kind of prodigy and anomaly in his capacity to play without sensory perception. These extraordinary abilities also perplex the doctors who are consulted about his case, who in "Go to the Mirror Boy!" find that their explanatory systems cannot account for his condition.
I often wonder what he is feeling
Has he ever heard a word I've said?
Look at him in the mirror dreaming
What is happening in his head?



Most peculiar is the fact that Tommy, even though he appears to register no sense perception, spends most of his time staring into a mirror. This could indicate either a sense of spiritual reflexivity or self-indulgent narcissism. But, internally we learn that he is crying out for relationship, touch, and acknowledgement. 



See me, feel me, touch me, heal me

See me, feel me, touch me, heal me




These words recur throughout the album like a kind of mantra. They communicate not only Tommy's own deepest desires, but also of those who later encounter him as a spiritual leader and guru.




Desperate to reach her son, Tommy's mother decides to smash his beloved mirror, releasing him from his internal prison of sensory deprivation. As such, his old "self" has been shattered and he enters a period of awakening and enlightenment.



The awakened Tommy has immense charisma, which attracts others to the vibrating force of his spiritual energy. He is a "Sensation" not only in the colloquial sense of being a popular phenomenon, but his very presence if felt by those around him.


I overwhelm as I approach you
Make your lungs hold breath inside
Lovers break caresses for me
Love enhanced when I've gone by
You'll feel me coming
A new vibration
From afar you'll see me
I'm a sensation
I'm a sensation

They worship me and all I touch
Hazy eyed they catch my glance
Pleasant shudders shake their senses
My warm momentum throws their stance

Soon you'll see me
Can't you feel me
I'm coming
Send your troubles dancing
I know the answer
I'm coming
I'm coming

I'm a sensation
I leave a trail of rooted people
Mesmerised by just the sight
The few I touched are now disciples
Love as One
I Am the Light



At this point we see the messianic dimension coming to the fore. Those who are "mesmerized" by his presence are being united in "love" and pledging themselves to one who declares himself to be "the Light". These are the initial moments of religious community formation. But, what direction will it take? Will Tommy's disciples grow and establish themselves as a new religious "denomination" or burn-out violently like a Jonestownian sect? 



Transcending his own trauma through spiritual experience, what Tommy offers his followers is "freedom"--spiritual freedom that "tastes of reality," an authenticity and enlightenment. Values very much embedded in the Sixties spiritual search.




I'm free, I'm free
And freedom tastes of reality
I'm free, I'm free
And I'm waiting for you to follow me

If I told you what it takes to reach the highest high
You'd laugh and say 'nothing's that simple'
But you've been told many times before
Messiahs pointed to the door
And no one had the guts to leave the temple

I'm free, I'm free
And freedom tastes of reality
I'm free, I'm free
And I'm waiting for you to follow me

How can we follow?
How can we follow?




This is also a freedom that transcends traditional religion. Many "Messiahs" have come pointing in the same direction, but few have had the courage to abandon convention and "leave the temple." What Tommy offers them is something more direct, more intimate, more communal. He "welcomes" his followers and invites them to "come to this house" and form new familial relations with him at his "Holiday Camp."

Come to this house!
Into this house
Come to this house
Be one of us
Make this your house
Be one of us

Tommy encourages his enthusiastic followers (such as "Sally Simpson") to give up their indulgence of drugs and alcohol in exchange for the "highest high" of his spiritual freedom. They are asked to emulated his sensory deprivation experience as a kind of ritual initiation. Sadly, however, the community becomes unstable and some of the members become skeptical and reject him, proclaiming "We're not gonna take it." They threaten to "rape him" and retraumatize him, pledging to forget all about his spiritual vision.



The "opera" ends on a rather ambivalent note with a spiritual plea that revisits the work's earlier mantra:




See me, feel me, touch me, heal me
See me, feel me, touch me, heal me
See me, feel me, touch me, heal me
See me, feel me, touch me, heal me
Listening to you, I get the music
Gazing at you, I get the heat
Following you, I climb the mountain
I get excitement at your feet
Right behind you, I see the millions
On you, I see the glory
From you, I get opinions
From you, I get the story



We must ask ourselves, however, who's voice is this? Tommy's or his followers'? Perhaps it's both. In spite of Tommy's spiritual vision and charisma, there may not have been enough internal cohesion for his community to hold. Or, perhaps the schism simply strengthens the resolve of his core followers who in "the millions" will follow him down the path to freedom. 



It's no secret that Pete Townshend was a devotee of the Indian guru Meher Baba. Therefore, that his musical work should have a spiritual optic is no surprise, even if it is less evident in subsequent compositions. Townshend did attempt to compose a second "rock opera" called Lifehouse but it never materialized. Only a few scattered fragments of this ambitious follow-up can be seen on subsequent albums; in particular, the majestic classic "Baba O'Riley."



Out here in the fields
I fight for my meals
I get my back into my living
I don't need to fight
To prove I'm right
I don't need to be forgiven

Don't cry
Don't raise your eye
It's only teenage wasteland

Sally take my hand
We'll travel south cross land
Put out the fire
And don't look past my shoulder
The exodus is here
The happy ones are near
Let's get together, before we get much older

Teenage wasteland
It's only teenage wasteland
Teenage wasteland
Oh yeah, teenage wasteland
They're all wasted!
























Thursday, October 27, 2016

MUSIC AND RELIGION Heaven and Hell



"Day of Judgement, God is Calling"

-"War Pigs" (1970)



Nowhere is the association between religion and popular music (both positive and negative) more obvious than in the many permutations of "heavy metal." Often stereotyped as satanic and subversive, the myriad ways in which metal musicians have dealt with the theme of religion is complex and diverse, encompassing elements of parody, polemic, and piety. 



One need look no further than the names of some of the major metal bands of the past 30 years to recognize that there is something going on with "religion": Black Sabbath, Judas Priest, Angel Witch, Grim Reaper, Witchfinder General, Dark Angel, Death Angel, Exodus, Metal Church, Possessed, Sacrifice, Testament, Sabbat, Atheist, Deicide, Malevolent Creation, Morbid Angel, Dark Funeral, Mercyful Fate, Mystic Circle, Rotting Christ, Anathema, Candlemass, Samael, St Vitus, Paradise Lost, Within Temptation, Armored Saint, Dio, Kreator, Sodom, Impaled Nazarene, Dr Sin, Sepultura, Benediction, Avenged Sevenfold, Byzantine, Lamb of God, Trivium, Faith No More...to name but a few! Many of these monikers obviously evoke religious imagery, although through a decidedly darkened lens. 


With band names such as these it's not surprising that in the mid-1980s metal music was swept up in a wave of American censorship led by Tipper Gore, wife of then US Senator Al Gore, who spear-headed the Parents' Music Resource Center. The organization claimed that heavy metal (and rap for that matter) undermined American moral values. The music was said to promote rebellion, violence, sexual promiscuity, and (of course) Satanism (Walser 1993: 138-139). This hysteria, fed in turn by the American talk-show circuit of the time, led to a great deal of public and private anxiety about this new and poorly understood musical genre. 

What is it about metal that has been the cause of such concern? Other musical genres have promoted sexuality and rebellion. The use of drugs by artists is as old as art itself. To be sure, the images and personae adopted by the bands have been provocative, as has their often controversial album artwork. Moreover, much has been made of metal's use of the "tritone," the so-called diabolus in musica--a diminished 5th that can evoke feelings of doom and dread. Yet, none of these things in of themselves fully explains the degree of denigration the genre has received. It does seem as though the manner in which metal has engaged with religious themes, frequently in surprising and disturbing ways, leads some observers to a deeper level of anxiety. In a certain sense, metal shines a light into the darkest corners of human experience and what is uncovered can be uncomfortable.

IN THE BEGINNING...

Most commentators would situate the genesis of heavy metal with one British band--Black Sabbath (Sharpe-Young 2007: 12). As their very name suggests, this is a group that would appear to lean toward the darker spiritual arts. Their lyrics have been said to use "anti-Christian and quasi-religious imagery" (Cope 2010: 28) and to be driven by an interest in the occult philosophy of Crowley and the Satanism of LaVey (Cope 2010: 83-88). Such a reading would appear to be supported by the lyrics of "N.I.B" from the band's 1970 debut Black Sabbath:

Now I have you with me, under my power
Our love grows stronger now with every hour
Look into my eyes, you will see who I am
my name is Lucifer, please take my hand


Yet, as is so often the cause, the authorial voice is mistaken for the author. The song is sung from the perspective of one seducing the soul. It is an artistic conceit, not an equation of the singer with Satan. We can no more attribute the sentiments of the song to the band than we could those of Mephistopheles to Goethe. Other songs, such as "Lord of This World", also deal with the rejection of God:

Your world was made for you by someone above
But you chose evil ways instead of love
You made me master of the world where you exist
The soul I took from you was not even missed yeah
Lord of this world
Evil possessor
Lord of this world
He's your confessor now

Even when Sabbath is more overtly political, religious imagery creeps in to the mix, as it does in many of the band's successors. Such is the case with "War Pigs" from 1970's Paranoid, which presents its anti-war message in evocatively religious terms, equating the war-mongering generals with "witches at black masses":

Generals gathered in their masses,
just like witches at black masses.
Evil minds that plot destruction,
sorcerer of death's construction.
In the fields the bodies burning,
as the war machine keeps turning.
Death and hatred to mankind,
poisoning their brainwashed minds...Oh lord yeah!

Such statements seem far from an outright endorsement of the occult. Rather, it's an unmasking of the uncomfortable fact that those who often claim to be doing "good" are actually engaged in profound forms of "evil." Moreover, the "satanic" reputation of Sabbath is flatly contradicted by "After Forever" from Master of Reality (1971), which sounds very much like an endorsement of a Christian perspective: 

Have you ever thought about your soul - can it be saved?
Or perhaps you think that when you're dead 
you just stay in your grave
Is God just a thought within your head or is he a part of you?
Is Christ just a name that you read 
in a book when you were in school?
Could it be you're afraid of what your friends might say
If they knew you believe in God above?
They should realize before they criticize
that God is the only way to love

Again, it's hard to know to what degree this may or may not reflect the sentiments of the band itself. What is clear is that Sabbath songs see the world as "run by forces beyond our control" (Christiansen in Irwin 2010: 153), spiritual and/or political. Yet academic attempts to reduce the band's lyrical message to an expression of Marxism unjustly minimize the spiritual import (see Christiansen in Irwin 2010). Sabbath's world is one in which the forces of good and evil collide. Singer Ozzy Osborne, who happens to be a member of the Church of England, frequently appears with his signature crucifix. Not, it seems to me, to mock or even critique Christianity, but to situate himself as a Christian immersed in the dark realities of "this world"--a world so often seen as defective and disturbing. 


We see a similar trend in later solo releases from Ozzy Osbourne, such as "Mr. Crowley," which examines the life of the famous English occultist Aleister Crowley in a decidedly ironic tone: 

Your life style to me seemed so tragic
With the thrill of it all
You fooled all the people with magic
Yeah, you waited on Satan's call

Not quite an endorsement of the mage's legacy. In fact, as Walser explains: "Osbourne plays with signs of the supernatural because they evoke a power and mystery that is highly attractive to many fans, but his song offers an experience of those qualities and even a critique, not a literal endorsement of magical practices" (Walser 1993: 148). As Ozzy himself has been at pains to remind his audience, he sees himself as an entertainer, someone who uses dark imagery much like Stephen King or Vincent Price--to entertain, not necessarily to enlighten. 

Yet, as counter-intuitive as it may seem, given how strong the satanic stereotype has been, the basic lyrical outlook of many Sabbath songs (and I would say many metal songs more generally) is basically toward acknowledging the reality of evil and starring it in the face. This outlook is even re-enforced by the imagery of the album cover for 1973's Sabbath Bloody Sabbath.


Here the central figure appears besieged by demonic presences in a scene not unlike the "Temptation of Saint Anthony" frequently depicted in traditional Christian art. Deliberate or not, the resemblance is nonetheless striking and underlines the fact that so-called "popular" genres of music (like metal) are no less engaged with the classical traditions of western civilization than other "high art" forms. 


"Temptation of Saint Anthony"
-Salvator Rosa (17th cent.)


THE METAL YEARS

"What do you mean, 'I don't believe in God'?
I talk to him everyday."
--Megadeth, "Peace Sells"


In 1988, a documentary was released called The Decline of Western Civilization Part II: The Metal Years, which profiled the prominent heavy metal culture of the time. Riding to widespread popularity on the so-called New Wave of British Heavy Metal (NWOBHM), as well as emergent sub-genres like "thrash" and "death" metal, by the late 1980's the genre was arguable one of the most popular in the world. Its legions of fans were committed to a strong sense of individualism and non-conformity (Arnett 1995: 126) Many bands from this second generation were deeply influenced by Black Sabbath and were no less interested in exploring religious themes--again in surprising and controversial ways. 


Take Iron Maiden, for instance, one of the most popular and enduring metal bands of all time. Formed in 1975, the British group's first album Iron Maiden (1980) established a punk-infused heavy metal template. The band also set a much higher lyrical standard than from what had come before. One of these early songs, "Strange World", evokes the typical sense of cosmic alienation already described:

The only place where you can dream, 
living here is not what it seems.
Ship of white light in the sky, 
nobody there to reason why.
Here I am, I'm not really there, 
smiling faces ever so rare.
A let's walk in deepest space, 
living here just isn't the place.

The band's second album Killers (1981), continued in a similar vein, but with slightly more overt religious references, as witnessed by songs such as "Prodigal Son" and "Purgatory." Yet it is only with 1982's breakthrough album Number of the Beast that Maiden truly inherited the mantel previously carried by Sabbath...and the controversy. Here we have songs such as "Children of the Damned," "Total Eclipse" (originally a B-side), and most controversially "Number of the Beast":

I left alone, my mind was blank.
I needed time to think, to get the memories from my mind.
What did I see? Can I believe that 
what I saw that night was real and not just fantasy?
Just what I saw in my old dreams
Were they reflections of my warped mind staring back at me?
'Cause in my dreams it's always there
The evil face that twists my mind and brings me to despair


Bassist and principal songwriter Steve Harris has repeatedly claimed that the song was based upon either a dream or even the Robert Burns poem "Tam O Shanter". Yet, once again, an overly literal reading of the song led many to simplistically assume that the lyrics were an indication of the band's dark sympathies. Presumably, these critics didn't listen to the album's final track, "Hallowed Be Thy Name" about a prisoner waiting for the gallows:

As the guards march me out to the courtyard
Someone calls from a cell "God be with you"
If there's a God then why has he let me go?
As I walk all my life drifts before me
And though the end is near I'm not sorry
Catch my soul 'cause it's willing to fly away
Mark my words believe my soul lives on
Don't worry now that I have gone
I've gone beyond to seek the truth

Here the sense of spiritual questioning is front and centre and like many Maiden songs it is essentially a period piece. In fact, most of the band's compositions deal with some literary or historical subject, in which religion sometimes plays a role. As such, subsequent albums, like Piece of Mind (1983), would contain "Revelations" and an epic metalization of Coleridge's "Rime of the Ancient Mariner" (from 1984's Powerslave), itself a profound meditation on life and death:

The Mariner's bound to tell of his story
To tell his tale wherever he goes
To teach God's word by his own example
That we must love all things that God made.


Maiden's spiritual speculation would reach its apex in 1988 with the release of the ambitious concept album Seventh Son of a Seventh Son,* a story about a divinely gifted child who must choose to use his power for good or evil. Book-ending songs such as "The Evil That Men Do", "The Prophecy", and "The Clairvoyant" is a short acoustic madrigal: 

Seven deadly sins
Seven ways to win
Seven holy paths to hell
And your trip begins
Seven downward slopes
Seven bloodied hopes
Seven are your burning fires,
Seven your desires...

Maiden's more recent catalogue has included tracks such as "The Fallen Angel," "Out of a Silent Planet," "Montseur," "Dance of Death," "For the Greater Good of God," and "Lord of Light." 


Other bands from the time (inspired by both Sabbath and Maiden) charted a similar course, such as Metallica and Megadeth, two champions of the American thrash metal scene. James Hetfield, singer and guitarist for Metallica, was raised by Christian Scientists, and explored religious themes on songs such as "Creeping Death", an energetic retelling of the Exodus story:

So let it be written
So let it be done
I'm sent here by the chosen one
So let it be written
So let it be done
To kill the first born pharaoh son
I'm creeping death

Similarly, Megadeth, fronted by Dave Mustaine (an early member of Metallica and born again Christian), has dealt with the issue of religion in songs such as "Holy Wars...the Punishment Due".

Brother will kill brother
Spilling blood across the land
Killing for religion
Something I don't understand
Fools like me who cross the sea
And come to foreign lands
Ask the sheep for their beliefs
Do you kill on God's command?

Although far from an exhaustive treatment, it at least seems clear that throughout the various permutations of metal as a genre the issue of religion has been a preferred lyrical theme. What defies the common stereotype, however, is the fact that metal's engagement with religion isn't exclusively negative. Often it is quite positive, particularly among some of its most prominent artists. 

ANGELS IN A DARK UNIVERSE

When Ozzy Osbourne left Black Sabbath at the end of the 1970's, the singer was replaced by Ronnie James Dio (whose stage-name incidentally means "God" in Italian). True to form, Sabbath continued with similar lyrical themes, releasing Heaven and Hell in 1980. No fan of organized religion, Dio, in a later interview, explained his view that "heaven and hell is right here, this is where we are. Good and evil, God and the devil reside in each one of us." Such a philosophy fits very well with metal's overall spiritual ethos, namely, that human life and experience is the site of a perennial "Manichaean" conflict between opposing forces of light and darkness. It just so happens that many of the genre's musicians have exhibited a profound fascination with the darker side of that equation, some fanatically so, as in the case of certain founders of 1990's Norwegian "black" metal, who took their satanism far beyond parody and protest to extremes that included church burnings, white supremacism, and even murder. 


One might even say that metal bands have explored their own brand of "negative theology" (a tradition of highlighting what God is by focusing on what God isn't). Could it be that they immerse themselves in the darkness as a way to find the light? This reading is potentially and powerfully evoked in a 2009 documentary on the black metal scene called Until the Light Takes Us. Here, a member of the scene is described in remarkably revealing terms

"I think for me Frost is like a dark angel. 
I think he has this enormous poetic quality of him. 
And also because he's really lost. 
And he's like an angel lost in a dark universe." 

It may be that this is how many of the musicians feel, like angels lost in a dark universe. Surrounded by chaos, war, suffering, hypocrisy, addiction, abuse...something feels amiss. The cosmos is not as it should be. Perhaps the gods have failed, or are not gods at all. As such, they rail against organized religion, which itself can be a source of evil and so often seems to sanction or even cause the violence and chaos of the world. Or perhaps some have no motive at all and nihilistically want to "watch the world burn." Either way, they will not abide the status quo and seek to undermine and invert traditional norms which no longer seem of value.

PARODY, POLEMIC, PIETY

I would say that the use of dark religious imagery in metal can be divided into three general categories: parody, polemic, and piety. Parody in the sense that many of the early metal and hard rock artists used such tropes for their shock and entertainment value (as in the case of Black Sabbath, Alice Cooper, or arguably even Venom). Something fans have readily acknowledged (Arnett 1995: 127). As time went on and metal artists began to engage in political and social critique, religion was a frequent object of their polemic. Finally, piety in the sense that, as we have seen, some metal bands have sought to incorporate positive spiritual themes, but also in the sense that others at the more extreme fringe believe (or at least claim to believe) their own satanic message. 

Ironically, this dark spirituality is usually expressed within a uniquely Christian framework and in parameters defined by traditional Christianity. It exists in a world of good and evil, God and Satan, inhabited by angels and demons. In fact, one might say that it is an inversion of Christianity (exemplified by the infamous inverted cross) and is an "appropriation" often motivated by a protest against established religion (Weinstein 2000: 238). We can also see this on a more specific level. A number of early black metal bands took on names inspired by the evil characters and motifs from Tolkien's Lord of the Rings (such as Amon Amarth, Cirith Ungol, Uruk-Hai, Burzum, or Gorgoroth). Once again, there's a certain irony in the fact that those engaged in some of the most violent modern polemic against Christianity wrapped themselves in monikers drawn from the work of an author who has himself a deeply committed Christian. 

Aside from the religious motives of the artists themselves, which can never be known in an absolute sense, the fans certainly seem to regard them with a degree of religious enthusiasm, a phenomenon not uncommon across genres of popular music. The sense of communal identity, shared experience, and exhalation all contribute to the spiritual power of the metal concert, itself a kind of "hierophany" (Weinstein 2000: 231-232). In the end, this is perhaps the true "religious" importance of the music. 


*To be dealt with more extensively in a future post.


Works Cited

Andrew Cope, Black Sabbath and the Rise of Heavy Metal Music (Surrey: Ashgate, 2010). 

William Irwin, ed., Black Sabbath and Philosophy (Wiley-Blackwell, 2013). 

Jeffrey Jensen Arnett, Metalheads: Heavy Metal Music and Adolescent Alienation (Boulder, Colorado: Westview Press, 1995). 

Garry Sharpe-Young, Metal: The Definitive Guide (London: Jawbone Press, 2007). 

Robert Walser, Running with the Devil: Power, Gender, and Madness in Heavy Metal Music (Middletown: Wesleyan University Press, 1993). 

Deena Weinstein, Heavy Metal: The Music and Its Culture (Da Capo Press, 2000). 







































Monday, October 24, 2016

MUSIC AND RELIGION The Book of Amos


"My dad really wanted me to write religious music.
He got his wish I guess."
-Tori Amos*

Few artists in popular music have had a more explicit interest in religious themes than Tori Amos. Daughter of a Methodist minister, the American singer, pianist, and songwriter rose to prominence in the early '90s alternative music scene and has often explored paradoxical elements of the sacred and profane through the course of her many albums. Her songs are neither quaint nor devotional, but a harsh look at some of the deep contradictions inherent in religion and sexuality. 

Her debut solo album Little Earthquakes (1992), features an early classic composition, "Crucify." A song in which a desire for redemption is mixed with self-loathing and contempt.

I've been looking for a savior in these dirty streets
looking for a saviour beneath these dirty sheets
I've been raising up my hands
Drive another nail in
Just what God needs
One more victim




This often jarring intersection of spirituality and sexuality has been one of her signature lyrical themes. In early interviews Tori would often describe her interest in reconciling these traditionally opposed dynamics with the image of the virgin and the prostitute (evoking Christian archetypes of the Virgin Mary and Mary Magdalene) sharing a plate of spaghetti. Elsewhere, she has described her music as possessing "alchemical qualities" that work toward a union of opposites (Gallani 2005). 

It should be noted that Tori Amos' music has been some of the most raw and confessional ever recorded for popular consumption. One need look no further than her early acapella track about sexual assault called "Me and a Gun," released long before sexual violence became a topic of sustained public interest. Yet even this song incorporates religious imagery, whereby the singer finds herself in conversation with Jesus. This same frank tendency is also present in "Precious Things," another stand out track from Little Earthquakes. This time Tori brings us back to her school days, railing against "those Christian boys" who see her only as a sexual object: "So you can make me come / that doesn't make you Jesus." Not the sort of thing you're likely to hear on Christian radio, but an expression of deep spiritual anguish nonetheless.





More religious lyrical content continues with tracks from her follow-up album Under the Pink (1994). The second single from that release, "God," is an audacious and direct address of disappointment in the deity:

God sometimes you just don't come through.

God sometimes you just don't come through.
Do you need a woman to look after you?
God sometimes you just don't come through.




Although banned at the time by many radio stations in the US "Bible belt" (DeRogatis 2003: 124), this song does fit with the long-standing Judaeo-Christian tradition of direct challenges to God in the face of absence, suffering, and contradiction. The singer here is resolved to "find why you always go when the wind blows." As she explained later, the song "'God' is really about the institution...my concept of God--goddess, the creator, energy force--is not what the institution taught me" (DeRogatis 2003: 124). Indeed, resisting the rigid application of religion is often at the heart of her spiritual sensibility

More subtle but equally provocative is "Icicle" (also from Under the Pink) in which Amos situates her own sexual awakening in the context of her traditional religious upbringing. She remembers being obligated to present herself in her "Easter dress" and submissively bow her head "like the good book says." Remarkably, however, this causes her to wonder if "the good book is missing some pages" and, in an unexpected turn, if true experience of the Divine is connected to the enjoyment of her own embodiment. 

And when my hand touches myself
I can finally rest my head
and when they say take of his body
I think that I'll take from mine instead

Getting off, getting off
while they're all downstairs.
Singing prayers, sing away
he's in my pumpkin p.j.'s
Lay your book on my chest
Feel the word, feel the word, feel the word
Feel it





Once again, the spiritual and sexual are synthesized into a striking reflection on the paradox not only of matter and spirit, but of religious experience vs the experience of religion. 


"I just remember being brought up with a lot of shame. 
You couldn't have your spirituality and be this sensual being" 
-Tori Amos* 

Later releases such as Boys For Pele (1997)--an allusion to a Hawaiian fire goddess--also contain songs with strong religious themes. "Father Lucifer," for example, addresses itself rather tenderly to the dark lord himself--irreverently asking "How's your Jesus Christ been hanging?"--while "Muhammad My Friend" whimsically suggests that "we both know it was a girl back in Bethlehem." 


From the Choirgirl Hotel (1998), for its part, contains "Playboy Mommy," a heart-breaking ode to a daughter lost to a miscarriage: "I'll say it loud here by your grave, those angels can't ever take my place." Once again, images of the sacred are mixed with trauma and pain. 



On 2002's Scarlet's Walk, an album reflecting on post-9/11 America, she offers "Wampum Prayer," a song expressing her Native American ancestry (Amos and Powers 2005), as well as "Mrs. Jesus." 

the gospel changes meaning 
if you follow john or paul 
and could you ever let it be 
the mary of it all


Later releases continue in a similar vein, although with somewhat mixed results. "Original Sinsuality," from 2005's Beekeeper, even evokes figures from early Christian "gnostic" mythology. Not a standard lyrical trope.

Considered eccentric by some, brilliant by others, there can be no denying that Tori Amos has created a fascinating body of work that has earned a loyal following. In terms of the religious content of her writing, it can be said the few popular musicians have exhibited such openness and daring to explore difficult, awkward, and often troubling themes. Hers is a unique religious and musical vision. 


*Tori Amos MTV Revue


Works Cited

Tori Amos and Ann Powers, Tori Amos: Piece by Piece (NY: Broadway Books, 2005).

Jim DeRogatis, Milk It! Collected Musings on the Alternative Music Explosion of the '90s (Cambridge, MA: Da Capo Press, 2003).

Michael Gallani, "Tori Amos: Metaphysics and Music," Keyboard Magazine July 2005.