There is something special about music that makes me wonder how professional music reviewers can review anything. There is that special quality that comes from the way dissonance and harmony intertwine to create something completely indescribable. Reviewing things, it seems, is more art than science.
Listening to this song, I can safely say that I would never guess that it would have the impact it did. Some chord in my being was strum, and I connected. And, for once, not because of the music.
I picked up the sampler EP from Re:Sound, and instantly fell in love with this song. It’s hard to just listen to the music, because there hardly isn’t any. Just this guy singing, and constant drum beat. But what he’s singing…
How many times have I cried out, “Oh my God”? Countless. Countless times. Countless times, in various degrees of pleas to deity.
I can really identify with a line like that. With somebody who just realized what a mistake he’s made. Like Peter at the crucifixion. Like me, most of my life.
There’s something special about the title of this song. It’s a rhetorical question. And a question everybody will ask, many times in their life.
Sadly, very few of us will get the answer we hope for.
Somehow, every year around this time, I forget it’s Memorial Day. I’m not really sure why, though, since I spent so much time in the Army. I believe that the reason I always forget is the same reason I hold the day so sacred: because it isn’t about me.
Neither then, in my way of thinking, is it about any individual. It’s about a collection of people who were put into extraordinary circumstances, and did what they could. However fates are decided, some achieved great things before their passing.
Some men crave the glory that comes with great victory. But not many. Most just hope to return to their normals lives. Ordinary, normal lives.
I never signed up for glory. I joined the Army because I wanted to do my part. The thought it would take my life was never part of my consideration. There was a work to do, and I was going to do my part.
Others weren’t so fortunate. They did their part, but they never returned to their normal, ordinary lives. They didn’t get the chance to talk about the hot days and cold fields. The horror and wonder of war was something for others to tell. Their fate was bound for glory.
I have nothing but ordinary memories. Punctuated, of course, with a few outstanding moments. But they won’t sing songs or write poems of my valor (though I did all I could). It wasn’t for me they patrol the tomb of unknown soldiers. It wasn’t for me that people stand in silent reverence.
All I did was to keep the tradition alive. To do my part. To continue the reverence for something others did for me.
A Canadian officer once wrote, upon the death of a junior officer, an emotional poem dedicated to those who gave their lives on the battle field. Much like those of us who live on, it seemed to him to be unfit a tribute. Just words, and nothing as worthy as the sacrifice made by another man, just trying to survive.
It’s one of the most famous poems from the era. It’s also probably the most used on a day like today, when we remember those who died.
In Flanders fields the poppies blow
Between the crosses, row on row,
That mark our place; and in the sky
The larks, still bravely singing, fly
Scarce heard amid the guns below.
We are the dead. Short days ago
We lived, felt dawn, saw sunset glow,
Loved, and were loved, and now we lie
In Flanders fields.
Take up our quarrel with the foe:
To you from failing hands we throw
The torch; be yours to hold it high.
If ye break faith with us who die
We shall not sleep, though poppies grow
In Flanders fields.
Lt.-Col. John McCrae (1872 – 1918)
Today we remember those who were destined for glory. Those who will live forever. We will do so, because they can not, but they made sure that we could.
Rarely do I get worked up about songs I listened to when I was young. This is one of those times. The intent of this album was to make some of the old anthems from the 1800s and 1900s relevant to people who may not have even lived in the 1900s.
Other bands have tried this tact. To produce an album with a modern slant on old songs. Frankly, I’ve always seen the efforts as money grabs, quite frankly. This recording doesn’t seem that way, and that’s what draws me. The song’s style does as well, but that’s just me.
Critique
Music is so amazingly difficult to quantify. If you like alternative music, you like it. If you don’t, you don’t. That’s how these songs are arranged, so if you don’t like that sort of thing, then this album isn’t for you. So for people who actually like that sort of thing, there’s a lot to like about this project.
First of all, the songs are treated as well as one could while remaining true to the intention of the songs. They didn’t chop them into shorter, praise & worship–type phrases. For the most part, you get verse/chorus/verse/chorus just as you would expect. You will get what you expect from the original songs, while they have a particularly modern sound.
The mixing leaves nothing to be desired. It is as well–produced as anything you would expect to hear on the radio. I’m not sure any of these songs will ever get airplay because of the people who will balk at the change in style with the songs. But if they do get played, I would only hope that other artists get the bright idea that some Wesleyan hymns can really fill out a record.
Simple Conclusion
I really like this album. I got an advanced copy of the songs, and I really liked it on first listen. The goal of the project was to make the songs accessible to a new generation of people, and I think they succeeded.
They made a guy who isn’t so new like it, too. Buy it.
You gotta love it when a church stops being safe and starts being honest about sex for sale. I would love to see more bold stuff like this from churches.
