(no subject)
Let me preface this entry by stating that I've queued up the new Mars Volta album and don't plan to leave this spot until it finishes playing. So if this entry appears with inexplicable keyboard mashing, you can attribute it to impromptu spasming resultant from my blown mind/jostled synapses. It's more likely that half of the songs won't receive the requisite half-length play time necessary to register on last.fm. Early reviews seem to indicate that rock critics have finally lost their patience with TMV after giving them the benefit of the doubt following ATDI's demise. (My early response: Bedlam brings a much more consistent sonic attack, with significantly less of that slowed down, tempo-change stuff prevalent on earlier material. The percussion seems especially driving to me) Then again, who really cares about rock critics.
Well I do, kinda. I just finished Andrew Beaujon's Body Piercing Saved My Life: Inside the Phenomenon of Christian Rock, which I purchased on a whim yesterday while browsing around Third Place Books in Seattle with Nic. Beaujon is an agnostic SPIN writer who at some point in the last few years became intrigued by the burgeoning Christian music industry. While on the surface his reporting covers music, musicians, and label structuring, ultimately his analysis, buoyed by interviews with guys like Tooth & Nail founder Brandon Ebel and industry outcast David Bazan (Pedro the Lion), focuses on modern evangelicism and the approaches taken by churches to bring non-believers (mostly kids) into the church.
I find this all very intriguing, of course, because I spent the first 16-17 years of my life as a member of the target market, as an outsider on the inside, so to speak. And so any conversation about the bait-and-switch techniques of Christian "coffeehouses" where no one really drinks coffee and general emotional manipulation of praise songs' soaring choruses draws my attention (and ire) like a perfectly placed altar call. Beaujon's interest seems a little odd, given his constant criticism of the music's low quality--that is until he reveals that he too was brought up in that system. Given some actual writing skill, I could have penned this book. I'd like to just sit down with Beaujon and talk about it all, since I'm still reeling from those awkward sunday school mornings and youth group afternoons, the ska concerts, and later, the devil horns, Christ thorns, or however we represented the overabundance of crashing cymbals and distorted Jesus yells. Because it was all too much for two hands, and definitely one mind, to handle.
Anyhow, life has returned to relative normalcy after break. I have several projects ahead of me (new sticker, brochure, and bookmark designs for the coffeehouse; newsletters for the Bayview School and Commons; two school gardens), as well as special assignments for this week (driving the middle school honors band to Seattle for a performance; driving a Colombian exchange group around Wednesday; MLK week diversity activities on Thursday). It's crazy, and I've ignored most of it over the last two days so I could finish that book. If only I had that same procrastination-worthy devotion to Moby Dick, I might have finished that whale of a story by now.
Well I do, kinda. I just finished Andrew Beaujon's Body Piercing Saved My Life: Inside the Phenomenon of Christian Rock, which I purchased on a whim yesterday while browsing around Third Place Books in Seattle with Nic. Beaujon is an agnostic SPIN writer who at some point in the last few years became intrigued by the burgeoning Christian music industry. While on the surface his reporting covers music, musicians, and label structuring, ultimately his analysis, buoyed by interviews with guys like Tooth & Nail founder Brandon Ebel and industry outcast David Bazan (Pedro the Lion), focuses on modern evangelicism and the approaches taken by churches to bring non-believers (mostly kids) into the church.
I find this all very intriguing, of course, because I spent the first 16-17 years of my life as a member of the target market, as an outsider on the inside, so to speak. And so any conversation about the bait-and-switch techniques of Christian "coffeehouses" where no one really drinks coffee and general emotional manipulation of praise songs' soaring choruses draws my attention (and ire) like a perfectly placed altar call. Beaujon's interest seems a little odd, given his constant criticism of the music's low quality--that is until he reveals that he too was brought up in that system. Given some actual writing skill, I could have penned this book. I'd like to just sit down with Beaujon and talk about it all, since I'm still reeling from those awkward sunday school mornings and youth group afternoons, the ska concerts, and later, the devil horns, Christ thorns, or however we represented the overabundance of crashing cymbals and distorted Jesus yells. Because it was all too much for two hands, and definitely one mind, to handle.
Anyhow, life has returned to relative normalcy after break. I have several projects ahead of me (new sticker, brochure, and bookmark designs for the coffeehouse; newsletters for the Bayview School and Commons; two school gardens), as well as special assignments for this week (driving the middle school honors band to Seattle for a performance; driving a Colombian exchange group around Wednesday; MLK week diversity activities on Thursday). It's crazy, and I've ignored most of it over the last two days so I could finish that book. If only I had that same procrastination-worthy devotion to Moby Dick, I might have finished that whale of a story by now.