A week ago today we were driving back from Salt Lake City, after having seen Switchfoot once again in concert, this time at the Saltaire Pavilion. Was it worth driving five hours one way through triple-digit temperatures, only to get lost at one point and almost miss it? Absolutely, it was. There were only a few hundred people there at most, and it was great to get up (fairly) close to the stage. I was the old guy wearing the red "i like switchfoot" T-shirt, by the way. On the return trip, I got to thinking about why this particular band has meant so much to me (especially in light of the fact that I'm quickly approaching the half-century mark, as my youngest son constantly reminds me). It's not easy to explain.
When Switchfoot first released "Chem 6A," it just resonated with me like very few songs ever have. The music is incredible (if you've listened to any of their albums, you already know that), but there was something more. The lyrics portray this tension between the ideal and the real - in this case, someone who seems to be settling for the artificial world of entertainment as a substitute for a life that is more genuine but may be harder to attain. Or something like that. I was the student dean of a Bible college at the time, and some of us went to see them when they were part of a line-up that included All-Star United and a couple of other bands. The concert was at a church on the corner of Cloverdale and Fairview, as I recall. Afterwards, I remember writing an article in the student newspaper about the band just because they had made such a huge impression on me.
The other concerts we've been to were held at the Big Easy in downtown Boise (renamed the Knitting Factory, for some bizarre reason). Without a doubt, they have been among the best shows I've ever had the privilege to experience. Let me add, I've been to a lot of concerts over the years: The Stones, The Who, Clapton (multiple times), Dylan, The Police (when tickets cost five bucks), etc., etc. Out of all of them, the comparison I tend to make to Switchfoot is with Bruce Springsteen (believe it or not), right when he was getting big. I draw a parallel not because of musical styles, but because of the energy of his three-hour show back in the early eighties.
We were in the second row that time, and it was obvious that Springsteen was someone who genuinely loved not only making music, but also making a connection with everyone in the audience. That's what every Switchfoot concert I've been to has been like. At the Salt Lake show, Jon actually got off the stage and walked through the crowd in mid-song. The last time they were in Boise, they even brought some kid up on stage to sing along with them. It's like the band sort of makes the barrier between them and the audience disappear.
The other factor has to be the sincerity of their devotion. I remember a quote from an interview Jon gave in the Idaho Statesman. He said something along the lines of: "We're a Christian band by conviction, not merely by musical genre." That has always stuck with me. Again, I don't find it easy to explain why songs like "Meant to Live," "This is Your Life," and "Gone" have been such an inspiration to me, but they just have.
In the last ten years or so (you know you're long in the tooth when you start measuring your life in decades), alternative Christian music (although I'm not real into labels such as that one) has been a catalyst for spiritual transformation and renewal in my life (you might even call it an "awakening"). When I listen to the music that these guys put out, it strikes a chord with me - they're trying to live faithfully in a world that constantly challenges them to do otherwise.
A couple of weeks ago, I had to fill in for our minister and preach a sermon. My chosen text was Ephesians 2:10, my title was "An Unfinished Masterpiece," and I felt like the lyrics from "The Economy of Mercy" was one of the most effective ways I could have found to make the point that God continues to write more lines to the poems of our lives: These carbon shells/These fragile dusty frames/House canvasses of souls/We are bruised and broken masterpieces/But we did not paint ourselves.
I could cite all kinds of other examples to illustrate how these guys have made a huge difference to me, but maybe the best is from my current favorite song, "Burn Out Bright":
If we only got one try
If we only got one life
If time was never on our side
Before I die I want to burn out bright
That's what I'm trying to say.
When Switchfoot first released "Chem 6A," it just resonated with me like very few songs ever have. The music is incredible (if you've listened to any of their albums, you already know that), but there was something more. The lyrics portray this tension between the ideal and the real - in this case, someone who seems to be settling for the artificial world of entertainment as a substitute for a life that is more genuine but may be harder to attain. Or something like that. I was the student dean of a Bible college at the time, and some of us went to see them when they were part of a line-up that included All-Star United and a couple of other bands. The concert was at a church on the corner of Cloverdale and Fairview, as I recall. Afterwards, I remember writing an article in the student newspaper about the band just because they had made such a huge impression on me.
The other concerts we've been to were held at the Big Easy in downtown Boise (renamed the Knitting Factory, for some bizarre reason). Without a doubt, they have been among the best shows I've ever had the privilege to experience. Let me add, I've been to a lot of concerts over the years: The Stones, The Who, Clapton (multiple times), Dylan, The Police (when tickets cost five bucks), etc., etc. Out of all of them, the comparison I tend to make to Switchfoot is with Bruce Springsteen (believe it or not), right when he was getting big. I draw a parallel not because of musical styles, but because of the energy of his three-hour show back in the early eighties.
We were in the second row that time, and it was obvious that Springsteen was someone who genuinely loved not only making music, but also making a connection with everyone in the audience. That's what every Switchfoot concert I've been to has been like. At the Salt Lake show, Jon actually got off the stage and walked through the crowd in mid-song. The last time they were in Boise, they even brought some kid up on stage to sing along with them. It's like the band sort of makes the barrier between them and the audience disappear.
The other factor has to be the sincerity of their devotion. I remember a quote from an interview Jon gave in the Idaho Statesman. He said something along the lines of: "We're a Christian band by conviction, not merely by musical genre." That has always stuck with me. Again, I don't find it easy to explain why songs like "Meant to Live," "This is Your Life," and "Gone" have been such an inspiration to me, but they just have.
In the last ten years or so (you know you're long in the tooth when you start measuring your life in decades), alternative Christian music (although I'm not real into labels such as that one) has been a catalyst for spiritual transformation and renewal in my life (you might even call it an "awakening"). When I listen to the music that these guys put out, it strikes a chord with me - they're trying to live faithfully in a world that constantly challenges them to do otherwise.
A couple of weeks ago, I had to fill in for our minister and preach a sermon. My chosen text was Ephesians 2:10, my title was "An Unfinished Masterpiece," and I felt like the lyrics from "The Economy of Mercy" was one of the most effective ways I could have found to make the point that God continues to write more lines to the poems of our lives: These carbon shells/These fragile dusty frames/House canvasses of souls/We are bruised and broken masterpieces/But we did not paint ourselves.
I could cite all kinds of other examples to illustrate how these guys have made a huge difference to me, but maybe the best is from my current favorite song, "Burn Out Bright":
If we only got one try
If we only got one life
If time was never on our side
Before I die I want to burn out bright
That's what I'm trying to say.
No comments:
Post a Comment