Why Christian Music Sucks. Or, Why I hate Christian Music. Or, I hate Christian Music because it sucks.

Yesterday I read an article about the upcoming Chronicles of Narnia movie, which will feature a Christian inspired-by soundtrack CD, and a secular version. Can Disney think of a more obvious way to pander to its audiences? Why can’t the movie marketing machine let the story speak for itself without supplementing the message with preachy, crappy music? C.S. Lewis’s story is, after all, an allegory to Christ’s Crucifixion and resurrection. Why include bands like Jars of Clay and Steven Curtis Chapman, whose music is beyond bad? Let the story speak for itself! To amplify my point, I’ve included the following essay, composed one night in the heat of anger, over my frustration with a lifeless industry.


It occurred to me recently how inane the Christian music scene has become. What started out as a hobby for well-meaning kids in church basements across the globe has become a pasted-together collection of imitation music forged by dishonest prima donnas longing for that fame they can't quite seem to find as they beg for entrance into MTV-land. So these artists polish the freshness and originality right out of their songs, pick their lyrics clean and what we get is a stale, regurgitated song.

2004 saw gospel music sales top 42.4 million units, and with crossover artists like Switchfoot, I finally have the answer to my question: where are all the Creed fans hiding?
I confess, I've played in Christian bands through most of my formative years which is probably the source of my hostility against this sanitized music. For our purposes, I’ve split the music into three methods of writing lyrics through a "Pop-Christian" lens:

The classic model relies on anthemic jingoism of the sort you'd see at an American baseball game (no offence to my American friends). This God-Bless-America type of song features lyrics whose intent is explicit and parochial. I call this the proselytizing song. A proselytizing song makes use of archaic, religious language often juxtaposed against impotent guitar arrangements and wanna-be-cool drum loops. Though these types of songs come across as didactic, if anything, I respect the proselytizing song for its sincerity, if not its outdated attempts at converting the young. I dislike this type of song because it is a song with an agenda. No matter what shape it takes, art should have no agenda other than to create. *Side note: I exclude corporate-worship style songs from this attack, as they are clearly for a different purpose and, although sometimes clumsy, these songs actually benefit from biblical vernacular.

The second prototypical song variation is one which finds its antithesis in the classic, proselytizing song. It is the whip that drives my anger. Vague and intentionally ambiguous, this second type of song illustrates the duplicity of many young wanna-be rock stars. The language of these songs, which I will call simply the disingenuous song, is an artistic analogue to the archetype of the Teenager who pulls up in the station wagon and slumps down in his seat, embarrassed that his friends will see him with Daddy. The disingenuous song is one whose language is noncommittal, neither religiously zealous nor profane. It is the detached lexicon of the would-be crossover artist; that band or solo performer who thinks, If I can just skirt the line, here, maybe I won't offend any of my loyal Christian fan base, while attracting a larger audience. Words like love and positivety are wrapped like bacon around limp clichés and powerless phrases designed to inspire; designs which fall flat nearly every time. The disingenuous song plays the ambiguous love-song game: Is this a song about God or a girlfriend? Such treachery is instantly dislikeable and the sad irony is that, in trying to please everyone, the artist comes up flat and lifeless, with a song that no one cares about.

The third variation of song is somewhat of a curiosity in the Christian music industry: altruism with artistic cachet. This kind of song or artist is not very common these days at all, found in rare artists like Wes Cunningham or Lovedrug. This is a song which avoids the pitfalls of cliché, of mind-numbing banality and self-important pretense. Rather, this variation (which I will call a good song) rings with trueness, applicability and, dare I say it: irony. *Ghasp* Yes, there are some on the front lines, battling for artistic integrity over moralizing self-righteousness. Hard to conceive that God, creator of the Heavens and the Earth, might actually enjoy some effort on our part; something intelligently wrought with insight and applicability. What we often get are flaccid platitudes; pure sentimental pap.

I’m not arguing for the dismantling of the entire Christian recording industry. I’m calling for a new breed of artists who write intelligent lyrics and music they can be proud of. I’m for good music with a modicum of self-respect. I’m in favor of bands who advocate a cause without making music their soapbox, who write catchy songs on a par with our best artists today. Parents want music that's been cleansed; lyrics they can trust. Kids want to listen to music they enjoy while preserving their self-respect, but it's getting harder these days.
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I'm a cynical, cynical man. Sorry.