Relient K: The Anatomy Of The Tongue In Cheek (2001)

Tracks:

1. Kick-off
2. Pressing On
3. Sadie Hawkins Dance
4. Down in Flames
5. Maybe Its Maybelline
6. Breakdown
7. Those Words Are Not Enough
8. For Moments I Feel Faint
9. Lion Wilson
10. I'm Lion-O
11. What Have You Been Doing Lately?
12. May the Horse Be with You
13. My Way or The Highway
14. Breakfast at Timpani's
15. The Rest is Up to You
16. Failure to Excommunicate
17. Less is More

A year later and the Canton rockers are back again with another serving of fun and meaningful "pop punk" (another apt descriptor for the K's melodically frenzied works).  This time around, Cushman has been replaced by David Douglas, and the drums do seem a bit more aggressive and loud, and the tempos have picked up, adding more of a punk feel to the tunes.  The band loads up the track list with a fast and furious seventeen numbers, another nod to punk, where quantity can supersede quality at times.  I could have used two or three less tunes, I suppose, but at least there are no real clunkers or deadwood, just more melody, mayhem, and lots of  cute wordplay, along with the now-standard pop culture parades.

The guys start things off with the two best songs, "Pressing On" and "Sadie Hawkins Dance."  The two songs illustrate the double-edged sword that Thiessen and his associates wield on this and future efforts.  "Pressing" is an inspirational, powerful rocker that's an anthem for perseverance and hope in the midst of stress and doubt.  It has the shimmering harmonies, some very cranky but driving guitars, and a coda with one of Thiessen's best lines: "You (God) look down on me, but You don't look down on me at all," after which he quotes the theme for "The Mary Tyler Moore Show."  It's a meaningful, spiritual song in a very attractive, sweaty package.  

"Sadie," on the other hand, is an innocent piece of radio pop.  There's no real lesson or moral to the story: "Sadie Hawkins dance/in my khaki pants/there's nothing better...(insert high pitched Oh-oh-oh here)...Girls ask the guys/it's always a surprise/there's nothing better/Do you like my sweater?"  Essentially the story of a nerd who gives a speech that impresses the hot girl enough that she asks him to the dance.  Just another high school mini-drama.  But I dare you to NOT sing along.  My wife never failed to sing along with this tune on the radio back when it came out as a single, almost to the point where I loathed the thing.  Almost.

And therein lies the duality: On the one hand, Thiessen & Co. come up with a series of fun, seemingly inconsequential tunes that do nothing but incite one's guilty pleasure and/or nostalgia.  That, and here's where he really starts to pull out the pithy wordplay that almost but not quite goes over the line into ApologetiX-ish cornball-isms.  "Maybe It's Maybelline" has nothing to do with make-up, but is about who to assign the blame to when things go wrong.  "May the Horse Be with You" seems to be just a string of equine metaphors and puns, and Thiessen's delivery on "What Have You Been Doing Lately" is so ragged and over-the-top that I can't take it seriously.  The songs are still fun, however.

But then he throws in a brace of deceptively hard-hitting spiritual numbers that really cut through all the frenetic tempos and harmonies and make contact.  We get "Down in Flames," a critique of the intra-church friendly fire that results in wounded comrades and, in extreme cases, lost souls.  But Thiessen doesn't just point the finger at the crowd, he's got four pointing back at himself: "I'm part of the problem, I confess/But I've gotta get this off my chest."  There's the worshipful "Those Words Are Not Enough," with the great line, "I lay my life before You, and I'm not getting up."  And the confessional "For The Moments I Feel Faint," K's first full-on acoustic song, whose chorus pleads "Never underestimate my Jesus/You're telling me there's no hope/I'm telling you you're wrong."  So for every "I'm Lion-O" you've got two "serious" tunes, like the piano-driven closer "Less is More," a straight-up prayer to Jesus to take the singer's offering of prideful mistakes as an act of worship.

Ah yes, "Lion-O."  My favorite song and guilty pleasure off of the album.  I am that nerd that watched Thundercats back in the day, who was attracted to Cheetara and laughed every time Schnarf said, "I'd rather not."  It's what makes this album great, these heartfelt confessions and admonitions mingled with teenage nostalgia, commercial jingles and cartoon themes.  Attention, Chris Rice:  This is the kind of music that the Thundercats would play if they got saved.  

Third Day: Conspiracy No. 5 (1997)

Tracks:

1. Peace
2. You Make Me Mad
3. How's Your Head
4. Alien
5. I Deserve?
6. Have Mercy
7. My Hope is You
8. More to This
9. This Song Was Meant for You
10. Who I Am
11. Give Me a Reason
12. Gomer's Theme
13. Your Love Endures 

After hitting the road with their first album's worth of songs, the Georgia boys decided that they needed to diversify their sound a bit, rock a little harder, sound a little bit "dirtier," and generally change things up.  So they hired Sam Taylor, producer of such hard and dirty-sounding bands as King's X and Galactic Cowboys, to sit in the big chair for their sophomore effort, Conspiracy No. 5.  (Sarcasm?  You betcha, Moonpie.)

Hoo boy, what a mess!  What they ended up with is a misguided effort to re-imagine TD as a southern grunge band.  Third Day was placed on this planet to play Southern-fried gospel rock, not be the second coming of Nirvana.  And the band (whether they themselves or those around them) undergo a weird make-over from their music to their image.  One only needs to look at a group picture from this period to see how wrong it was.   Ultimately, the less said about Mac's "hipster geek" look the better, so I'll just move on...

The psychosis manifested itself not in the writing of the songs, but in the recording and production.  And this is where I lay the blame squarely on the shoulders of the mononymous Sam (as he is credited, obviously because he didn't want anybody to track him down after this).  Because the songs themselves are mostly fine: classic rock and worship songs written in the fun, down-home TD style.  What Sam did was to drown these tunes in a shady, psycho-funkadelic swamp of buzzy, swirly, feedback-drenched noise, to the point where you can't hear the music. 

I'm sure the band had a role in selecting the ponderous pile of effects boxes, crappy amps, and weird tape effects that dominate the guitars on the album, but really, a producer's job, especially for a young artist, is to guide them in a direction that makes the most of the band's strengths and make them sound their best, not turn them into a genetic mutation of themselves.  I'll give one example to show where it all went wrong: Track 3 is a brilliant, Byrds-y folk rocker that Mac wrote for his ailing wife, "How's Your Head."  It's a deeply personal song that has a powerful if somewhat ominous melody and some funky playing.  And for the most part it's great until the end, where it literally disintegrates into a pile of grinding noises and feedback.  I could point out others, but as Mac said, if I can't say nothing good, I won't say nothing at all.

So here's something good: The songs themselves show some maturity and growth.  There's the aforementioned song, as well as "I Deserve?", a haunting confessional song about humbling yourself before someone and asking forgiveness.  These personal songs show a vulnerability that is very appealing and suits Mac's persona well.  Then's there's biblical rockers like "My Hope is You" (from Psalm 25 & 39, among others),  and "Gomer's Theme," based on the book of Hosea.  The latter, despite its odd title, is actually a pretty moving story:  It's written from the Old Testament prophet's perspective as he pines for his unfaithful wife Gomer (It was the OT, Okay?  Those Hebrews gave their baby girls names like Abishag, Orpah, and Zilpah).  The band comes up with an appropriately moving song, concluded with a ten-second solo from Avery that is some of his most gut-wrenching playing ever.

And then there's cultural critiques like "You Make Me Mad" and "More To This," fast rockers like "Have Mercy," confessional heartbreakers like "Who I Am," and the closing "Your Love Endures," another psalm adaptation that's just Mac, Mark, and their acoustics.   All in all, a pretty good batch of songs, although their choice of a single, the droning, effects-laden "Alien," was a bit of a misfire.  It kind of sums up the problem of Conspiracy, a title that is never fully explained, although with all of the pictures of assassinated presidents in the booklet, perhaps they were trying to provide a "fifth rail" for how and why these murders took place?  Here's my theory:  Maybe somebody traveled through time and space and paid personal visits to John Wilkes Booth, Lee Harvey Oswald, and Sirhan Sirhan and played them the album's final mix at full volume.  That'd make me mad enough to go postal, for sure!    

But better things were coming, as the boys would figure out the best way to present their rocking, Jesus-centered music to the world--even the assassins.

Audio Adrenaline: Don't Censor Me (1993)

Tracks:

1.  Can't Take God Away
2. A.K.A. Public School
3. Soulmate
4. My World View
5. Big House
6. Jesus & The California Kid
7. Don't Censor Me
8. Let Love
9. We're a Band
10. Rest Easy
11. Scum Sweetheart

Audio A's second album for Frontline Records continued many of the trends of their debut: Mark Stuart was still splitting his time between rapping and singing, Barry Blair supplied the rock edge on his guitars, Will McGinniss carried the rhythm, and Bob Herdman was still listed as the band's keyboard player--which meant they still didn't have an official full-time drummer.  So they still were figuring out the whole rock band thing--at least in the studio.  They still were laying down heavy grooves with their electronics, Blair's playing was growing more diverse and prominent, and the songwriting seems to be moving in the right direction.  

On Don't Censor Me, the band takes multiple approaches with the songs.  As the title suggests, the band opts for a bold, evangelistic message as the general theme.  "Can't Take God Away" boasts that modern culture's ambition to remove God from schools, media, etc. will not affect the singer's personal faith, even if they take away "my life, my land, my liberty."  "AKA Public School" encourages kids to turn classrooms into mission fields, and the title track critiques vulgarity in music as it preaches the Word.  It's a battle of world views, and Audio A is sounding the call to join the band of brothers.

But they don't forget to have a little fun in the field, especially with the BIG hit from the album, "Big House."  The song is a silly, Saturday morning-friendly dance-rock ditty that compares church to a house in the country with a big ol' dinner table and backyard football.  But it's infectious with it's grooves, samples, and Blair's Southern funk licks.  To this day, twenty years later, the song still gets played regularly on Christian radio, and it's become the bane of kids' ministers everywhere.  Another fun number are the somewhat schizoid "Jesus and the California Kid," which combines hip hop verses with a Beach Boys-esque chorus.

The band shows some range with the ballads "Rest Easy" and "My World View", the latter featuring dc Talk's Kevin Max on vocals, in what was a foreshadow of the things to come 20 years on.  Perhaps most interesting is the closer, "Scum Sweetheart," a vampy jazz ripoff that shows a slightly darker side to the otherwise sunny mood of the album, as it deals lyrically with temptation and habitual sin.

Don't Censor Me and its big hit single brought Audio Adrenaline into the main arena of Christian bands, although it would take a little bit longer for them to find the magic synthesis of hip-hop energy, rock power, and solid songwriting.  Still, I dare anyone to not to sing along when they hear, "Come, and go with me to, my Father's house..."

Rich Mullins: Pictures In The Sky (1987)

Tracks:

1. When You Love
2. It Don't Do
3. Verge of a Miracle
4. Pictures in the Sky
5. Be With You
6. Screen Door
7. What Trouble Are Giants
8. Steal At Any Price
9. Could Be a Celebration
10. Love that Knows No Bounds 

With his second album, Rich Mullins moves forward in his development as a songwriter and performer, continuing in his themes of Christian love, spiritual fulfillment, and confessional honesty.  The ten songs on the record don't rank with the best of his later work in terms of power or resonance, but he's starting to understand his strengths and maximize the potential flashed on Rich Mullins. 

Probably the most obvious improvement is in Reed Arvin's production.  He and Mullins have left behind the image of Rich the Rocker and focused more on his Adult Contemporary stylings, which does result in a lot of electric pianos and chiming synths, and at times the album does drift into the middle of the path, as in mid-tempo ballads like "Verge of a Miracle," Rich's first bona fide hit.  The song has the usual pleasant melody and vocal high points, but it's not even the most interesting thing on this album, let alone his career. 

In place of stadium rock we now have Rich the white soul singer, getting funky and uptight.  He's certainly got the chops to pull it off; he's got enough grit in his throat to at least make it sound like he really is having some church up in here.  The problem ends up being the same as the rock songs from the first album: the more funky grooves, back up singers, and noise you put around him, the less impact his music has.  It's most obvious on "It Don't Do," which has a great message about preaching mercy and truth in one's words, and Rich gets appropriately sanctified.  But while he does do, the song don't do, and then it's done.  (Maybe he should've covered "Ba Ba Ba Ba?") Anyway, the link above is a live acoustic version that's a vast improvement over the urban gospel-ish version on the record.

He does a better job of soul-shouting on the other hit from the album, "Screen Door."  It's an a capella doo-woop jam that's barely over two minutes long, but it's full of funny metaphors illustrating the second chapter of the book of James, and lots of "dip-dip-dips" and "We-oo-we-oo-wees."  Of course, the song is most famous for the "cups" routine that Rich would do on stage with the band or whoever happened to be around at that moment.  (See the above link for the song to see Rich and friends do the cups thing live)

Of the rest of the songs, Rich does put some powerful messages in some very nice packages.  The title track breezes through multiple modulations and key changes with a pretty good chorus melody; "Steal At Any Price" has a strong message about Jesus' love for the broken souls of society; and "Be With You" is the lone solo piano song, but it lacks the strong chorus and imagery of "Elijah" and "These Days."  He also repeats Rich Mullins by closing out the album with a slow ominous number with a heavy message in "Love That Knows No Bounds." 

In the context of his career canon, Pictures in the Sky is what it is: an enjoyable if somewhat uneventful sophomore effort that shows some signs of maturity and development by its artist and producers, but lacks a great standout moment to move it to a more timeless status.  That's not to say it doesn't have fun and moving moments, it's just that time would show that Rich's craft was still growing into his message, and it would take a few more stops on the road before he would hit full stride.

The Seventy Sevens: All Fall Down (1984)

Tracks:

1. Ba Ba Ba Ba
2. Under the Heat
3. Mercy Mercy
4. You Don't Scare Me
5. Make a Difference Tonight
6. Caught in an Unguarded Moment
7. Someone New
8. Something's Holding On
9. Your Pretty Baby
10. Another Nail

By 1984, the Seventy Sevens had transitioned into a full-fledged 80s New Wave band.  Mike Roe was now sporting heavy stage makeup and leather pants, they had a new drummer in Aaron "A-Train" Smith, and their second album All Fall Down was a survey of all that was popular in the clubs and dance halls of the day.  On first listen, it seems that the synths have taken over the guitars as the opening track "Ba Ba Ba Ba" (obviously the successor to "De Do Do Do, De Da Da Da") floats over a bed of ethereal oscillator tones as Roe intones the catchy monosyllabic chorus.  "Under the Heat" takes it a step further, sounding almost like neo-prog with its sinister keyboard licks, jerky rhythm and stadium-ready shouted title.  "Caught in an Unguarded Moment" is Cure-like, with Roe even intoning the words with a crisp English accent, and "Something's Holding On" rides a pleasant melody to a smooth humming background.  They've certainly retained the pop instincts of the first album and dressed them in bright pink stripes.  

But the band can't keep itself from rocking, and it's when they slip into frenetic rockabilly and blues mode that they come up with their best stuff.  The two big winners on the record are "Mercy Mercy" and "You Don't Scare Me."  The former song is a two-and-three-quarter minute stomp that features a chanted chorus (soon to be a Roe staple) and quick, chicken-pickin' rock riffs as Mike begs the Lord for a reprieve from his fever.  The latter song goes the long blues jam route, set up by a highly-processed bass pattern from Volz and some effects-driven noises from Roe's Stratocaster.  The song goes on for almost six minutes and again sets a precedent that would also become a band trademark.  The bold take on the 23rd Psalm kicks into double time right at the end with a few harmonica notes for good measure.

All Fall Down is a snapshot of a band in transition: Moving from hard rock power to a smoother, more modern sound, but still maintaining its bluesy swagger.  In the end, the swagger would take the center stage as the keyboards would settle in to the background and Roe's guitar would become more central to the band's sound.

Daniel Amos: Shotgun Angel (1977)

Tracks:  

1. Days and Nights
2. Black Gold Fever
3. Praise Song
4. Father's Arms
5. Meal
6. Shotgun Angel
7. Finale: Bereshith Overture
8. Lady Goodbye
9. The Whistler
10. He's Gonna Do a Number on You
11. Better
12. Sail Me Away
13. Posse in the Sky

In just a year, Daniel Amos had undergone some key changes that ultimately paid big dividends.  Steve Baxter had moved on and the Amos Gang brought in Mark Cook, a keyboard player with songwriting skills, and Ed McTaggart, their first and only permanent drummer for the next three decades.   More importantly, a slow mutation has already begun within the genetic code of the band.  They're still gospel-singing cowboys who preach the Word of God; but now they're mixing more California sunshine with the Texas tumbleweeds.  And they're developing an ambitious and artsy backbone that would only grow stronger in the future.  The first stage of the metamorphosis only took a year to be fleshed out in one of their best records, Shotgun Angel.

First of all, they're now playing a clever but radio-friendly version of California country-rock that maximizes the strengths of both styles: Tasteful, guitar-driven pop songs with the trademark DA harmonies, aggressive solos, and electric piano flourishes.  They've also lightened up on the preachy aspects of their first record, still singing Jesus music but now using metaphors and narratives to convey the message.  They've condensed the sermons into the two novelty numbers, "Black Gold Fever" and "Meal", the former a country boogie about oil, the latter a goofy pastiche of sound effects and weird chatter about food--spiritual, that is.  Both songs are banged out at ridiculously fast tempos--another advantage of having a full-time  drummer.  Thanks, Ed.

But there are also some truly beautiful moments.  The opening song, "Days and Nights" makes use of romantic metaphor in describing the sense of longing for heaven that permeates the album.  "Praise Song" is just as its title suggests, however, it's written in a minor key and played in a lush waltz time, so it's not exactly something that might be sung in a church setting.  

But the big hit off of the album was "Father's Arms," a brilliantly-constructed piece of late 70s pop that features driving beats, strings, and the first of Chamberlain's many great guitar solos.  Very much of its time, and yet timeless as well.  The title track is a trucker song written by Bill Sprouse, Jr., and DA polish it up and make it shine with harmonies and country rhythms, including an infectious coda that seems to go on forever.

Then the world literally comes to an end on the second half of the album.  The cowboys morph into a Western version of the Moody Blues and take on the book of Revelation.  Leading off with a "Finale" (?), a brief symphonic interlude leads to a series of songs about the last days.  "Lady Goodbye" bids farewell to the raptured church, and then the troubles come.  "The Whistler" tells of the coming of the Antichrist, "He's Gonna Do a Number on You" is about the Mark of the Beast, and "Better" exposes the delusion of wealth, peace, and safety in a post-apocalyptic world.  Kind of timely, really.  Then "Sail Me Away" is another beautiful ballad about the Second Coming and how believers must forsake everything to be with Christ.  As the ballad fades out, we hear bombs bursting and guns firing, and then Christ comes to pass final judgment on the evil, condemned world with His "Posse in the Sky."

This is the only place where I am disappointed with the album.  This is the climactic moment of history, the Final Judgment, Jesus Christ on a white horse leading legions of angels to destroy Satan's kingdom, and the band chooses to sing about this epic ending with...a melancholy cowboy ballad?  I mean, I wasn't expecting Led Zeppelin or "Nights in White Satin" or anything, but surely Terry and the guys could have come up with something more dramatic than a tune that clops along like "Peaceful Easy Feeling."  With lyrics like "And when the faithful disappear/The world will take it's final turns/The showdown's exactly what some fear/Millions die, the land is burned", the music needs to be more than just a country shuffle.  But then again, DA have always been a band that defies expectations; it would be like them to end the world with a little bit of sad romanticism.  

Several years later, DA would re-release the suite of songs as The Revelation, intermingling Scripture readings from Calvary Chapel pastor Chuck Smith.  They closed that album out with an excellent song called "Soon!" that would have fit perfectly at the end of Shotgun Angel.  But I guess they hadn't written that one yet.  Still, in spite of this letdown, the album still succeeds in that it shows a band willing to take chances, make solid contemporary music, and pay tribute to its roots while exploring new frontiers.  Most importantly, they show a glimpse of a World beyond this one that's vast and beautiful.

Phil Keaggy: Love Broke Thru (1976)

Tracks:

1. Your Love Broke Through
2. Take Me Closer
3. As the Ruin Falls
4. Wild Horse
5. Disappointment
6. Time
7. Portrait
8. Just the Same
9. Things I Will Do
10. Abraham

If What A Day was a one-man show, then Phil's 1976 album Love Broke Thru was a true "group" effort--even if it was a group of seasoned and highly professional studio musicians.   New Song (the record label) pulled together some of the biggest names in the Hollywood music scene on this one: Keyboardist Larry Knechtel, drummer Jim Gordon, and bassist Leland Sklar are among the luminaries.  The result is that Love is very much a showcase of Phil Keaggy the Guitarist and Performer, with big, glossy production values and tight but elaborate arrangements.

Phil draws from numerous outside sources for the material, most notably the almost-title track, which is probably the most famous Christian song of the late 70s.  The Keith Green/Todd Fishkind/Randy Stonehill classic is a perfect fit for Phil's bright tenor voice and smooth, resonant playing.  It's actually better than Keith's own version from his debut album the next year; The latter artist's piano-driven recording takes a somewhat heavier approach and doesn't have the light, crisp precision of Phil's version.  Still, Green can be heard singing in the background, and you really can't go wrong with that great melody on the chorus.

He also adapts a couple of poems into acoustic numbers that point towards some of the dramatic work he would display on The Master and the Musician.  C.S. Lewis' "As The Ruin Falls" is a scholarly but poignant piece by that features some nice English folk-style runs and a playful flute part, but Lewis' words don't fit comfortably with the free-flowing melody Keaggy hangs them on.  "Portrait," taken from a Beatrice Clelland work, is more successful in wedding music and verse, with a more understated guitar part and lighter feel.  Phil would continue with these adaptations throughout his career.   "Abraham" is a Buck and Annie Herring song that closes the album, and features Annie and Matthew Ward on backing vocals.  It's got a great chorus, even though it mentions something called a "sand tree," the meaning of which I still haven't figured out.  Those kids in the 70s!

There's definitely a Vegas vibe in the uptempo group numbers that dates the album at times.  "Your Love Broke Through" manages to keep things balanced between pop and big band, but "Take Me Closer" feels like Disco Dance Night, even though it's technically not a disco beat.  It's a nice melody with a message about spiritual intimacy, but has a very glitzy, cruise-ship feel to it, which may have been by design; after all, this is the Phil Keaggy Showcase.  

Phil manages to rock out a bit on two numbers:  The first, "Time," comes close to a full-blown guitar jam that unfortunately fades out just as the band starts cooking.  It's got the hardest riffs on the record, and Phil does some great playing, but he uses a weird effect on the choruses that makes his guitar sound something like a laser gun.  It actually kind of reminds me of a similar effect Steve Howe used on Tales of Topographic Oceans, which is hardly a resounding endorsement.  He would actually make a much heavier version in 1985 that would be released on the Time 1970-1995 retrospective.  "Just the Same" is tighter and shorter, but features the same big chorus with BGV's and brassy arrangements.  Still, the grandiosity of the studio band takes some of the bite out of these tunes.

For its time and place, Love Broke Thru is actually a fairly good record.  It casts the spotlight on one of the premier performers of the developing Christian Contemporary scene, and gives him some room to reflect some of that heavenly glow to the audience.  Even if the glow has a little too much sparkle.

Relient K: Relient K (2000)

Tracks:

1. Hello McFly
2. My Girlfriend
3. Wake Up Call
4. Benediction
5. When You're Around
6. Softer to Me
7. Charles in Charge
8. Staples
9. Anchorage
10. 17 Magazine
11. Balloon Ride
12. Everything Will Be
13. Nancy Drew
14. K Car

I've always loved pop music.  If you've been reading this blog, you know I have an ear for that hard-to-define yet unmistakable thing called a "pop hook."  I'm not enough of a musical scholar to define what it is, but I know it when I hear it, and when I'm still humming it ten minutes later.   Good music is good music, and if it's a three-minute radio-friendly single, I'm down with it.  But I like a great gritty guitar riff, too.  I love fat bass, heavy drumming, and screaming vocals.   If it's hard and heavy and moves me--which is not easily done--I will rock out.  I may look like a fool as I'm doing it, but rocking out does happen.  

So when bands like Badfinger, Big Star, the Sweet, and Tom Petty & the Heartbreakers started putting pop and rock together together in the 70s, a genetic hybrid was forged that slammed its way into my heart like a sweetly-yet-firmly strummed power chord.  Thus is my long love affair with Power Pop.  I like melody, and I like loud, pounding rhythms, and with some sweet harmonies on top, I can find true bliss.  As far as Christian bands go, there have been a few bands that have moved me (All Star United, PlankEye), but if there is a true master of the genre for the 21st century, I would nominate Ohio's own Relient K.

They have all the necessary elements for great power pop: two loud, heavy guitars, big bass sound, full-throttle drumming.  Then they mix in sweet-voiced and idealistic-sounding singer in guitarist Matt Thiessen, who's also ready to play the piano if the mood demands it.  And when the band (Matt Hoopes, Brian Pittman, and Stephen Cushman) joins in three-part choirboy harmony, Magic!  An uncanny gift for writing brilliant melodies and wedding them to quirky, pop culture-friendly lyrics that speak of Jesus Christ frequently finishes the picture brilliantly.

With their self-titled debut, the K establish themselves quickly as masters of beautiful noise.  The big three hits that broke them on radio were "My Girlfriend" (As in Marilyn Manson Ate..), "Wake Up Call," and "Softer to Me."  The first is preceded on the record by Gotee Records exec Tobymac leaving a terse message for Thiessen: "A song about Marilyn Manson will never be put out on Gotee Records...ever!!"  It's for a laugh, of course, but referencing someone so antithetical to Christian values could be seen as somewhat controversial.   "Wake up Call" is driven my a rapidly-strummed acoustic and has references to Wendy's and Matchbox 20.  "Softer to Me" starts out in typical aggressively sunny fashion then breaks on the chorus into a slower, mellower tune, then ramps it up on the verses.  All three are bright, melody-driven angst confessionals that hook the listener with the melodies and power.

But there's more three-minute dramedies to be revealed.  The opening track "Hello McFly" derives its title from a harmony background vocal, but the meat of the song is the singer's wish to go back in time a la Michael J Fox and undo some emotional damage.  "Nancy Drew" references the titular mystery solver as an object of somewhat obsessive affection, and "17 Magazine" looks to the teen rag as a source of wisdom and knowledge--ironically, of course.  And perhaps the most gooey pop culture relic dragged out is their cover of the theme from "Charles in Charge," complete with spoken bits from Willie "Buddy" Aames.

With all of these cheeky name-checks and fantasies, you would think that either A) Thiessen & Co. are really a bunch of media-obsessed geeks who just happened to have figured out power chords over bowls of Cheerios on a Saturday morning, or B) they're a bunch a jaded hipsters who treat all of these odes to innocence and childhood as ironic filler for "serious" spiritual lessons nestled in sweet candy coatings.   Actually, it might be little of both.  There's nothing to indicate that the guys are jaded or hiding any dark disdain beneath their cutesy melodies and "sha-la-la" vocal chants.  There's just enough sophistication in their fun-size compositions to reveal some real understanding of great pop music.  But there's also a clear view to a world beyond TV shows, magazines, and mystery novels.  They use these references as windows for the real world of invisible and infallible truths.

Power pop can be addicting, much like sugar and caffeine.  But it usually doesn't satisfy for long.  Here's a vote that Relient K is the exception that proves the rule.  Thiessen has plenty of tricks up his sleeve to sweeten the taste of his cheerful medicine to keep us wanting another shot. 

Third Day: Third Day (1996)

Tracks:

1. Nothing At All
2. Forever
3. Mama
4. Love Song
5. Blackbird
6. Thief
7. Consuming Fire
8. Did You Mean It
9. Holy Spirit
10. Livin' for Jesus
11. Take My Life
12. Praise Song   

It is April 1996.  I am a stranger in a strange land.  I have left my home and my family and replanted myself in the Buckeye State, starting a new chapter of life and throwing all of my chips into the middle of the table, not sure if the cards I'm holding with win the pile or not.  But I am in love.  I have a girl.  I have followed her 600 miles from home and now she's driving me to meet her pastor.  I am trying to explain to her why the Who's "Shakin' All Over" is a metaphor for spiritual ecstasy when she turns up the radio and says, "Oh!  I love this song!  This guy has such a sexy voice!"  It's a Christian radio station, so I'm concerned that she would describe a Christian singer as "sexy", but as I am a stranger in a strange car, I reserve my judgment.

The song on the radio is called "Forever," and at first I think I'm hearing a reunion of the Doobie Brothers or another of my beloved classic rock bands trying to make a comeback, because the "sexy singer" with the manly rough drawl sounds like he has to be at least 40.   Crunchy, deep-fried guitars sizzle and slide in the background, the bass is fat as a hog's behind, and the drums pound like a throbbing heartbeat.  It like nothing I've heard on a Christian radio station, because it should be on a classic rock station.

I ask my lady who wrote the strangely familiar music.  "It's Third Day!  They're awesome!  Look at their album!"  She hands me a CD with a peach on it.  As is my usual wont when handed a new album, I examine the booklet, and see a picture of five lean 'n' hungry rocker guys with grungy clothes and spartan hair cuts (except for the token dude with the long hair).  In the center is a close-cropped guy with piercing dark eyes, gotee, and stern expression, obvious the psycho leader of this gang of backwoods outlaws.  "Who's this guy?" I ask my bride-to-be.  "Oh, you mean that Third Day Guy?  Isn't he hot?  I just love guys with CRAZY EYES!"

I look at her with intense eyes and say, "So... what's your feelings about the Doobie Brothers..."

Such was my introduction to the band from Macon, Georgia who brought me back to Christian rock and roll.  I had thought Christian Music meant big dramatic ballads and cutesy singalongs that lacked the grit and power that I had found in the music of the 60s and 70s.  But now I heard rock music--I mean real, down home, ballsy rock and roll--that sang about Jesus and heaven and stuff I sang about in church.  Who knew?  Maybe the hand I was dealt would win after all.

The sexy, crazy-eyed, gravelly-voiced singer is Mac Powell, as charismatic a singer as you can find, and his voice is the horn that announces the arrival of the Fixible bus on the Third Day album cover.  The engine is the rhythm section of bassist Tai Anderson and drummer David Carr.  Riding shotgun are rhythm guitarist and jack-of-all-trades Mark Lee and lead guitarist Brad Avery.  They're Good Ol' Southern Boys and they're ready to rock, and on this debut album, they lay the groundwork for a 17-year career that at its heart is just classic Southern rock with a gospel message.  And they ain't afraid to preach to ya neither.  Like to spread gossip?  Mac's got a word for ya: "If you cain't say nothin' good, don't say nothin' at all!" (Track 1)  Went forward at church on Sunday and now thinkin' twice about it on Tuesday?  "Ya said you'd do anything...but did ya mean it?" (Track 8)  Sing in a world-famous rock and roll band that endorses recreational marijuana use and living a hedonistic lifestyle on the edge of disaster?   "Ya lost yer way, Blackbird...won't ya fly to heaven and be saved today?"(Track 6)

But they don't just preach, they also praise the Lord.  There's "Consuming Fire," which has probably been the most durable of the songs off of the album.  They still play it after all these years, and it stomps along in 6/8 time as Mac's acoustic guitar leads the charge.  There's the appropriately entitled "Praise Song" with none other than Rich Mullins plucking his hammer dulcimer as Mac rocks out with a melody that reminds me of the old gospel hymn "Revive Us Again."  And then there's the first-person character sketches like "Mama," a song from the perspective of a lost prodigal, and "Thief," a powerful confession by the titular character as he dies next to Jesus on the cross.

And they know how to mellow it down, too.  Mark Lee picks up an acoustic and strums along with Mac on "Love Song," the first of many TD songs written from the perspective of God/Jesus.  Mac's emotional delivery takes these kinds of tunes to another level that I have not heard often.  It's almost scary how much he evokes Jesus on this song.  Another one of those long-lasting numbers that they pull out of the closet once in a while. 

But let's not forget, this is just the beginning of the bus ride for the Georgia boys.  They still have lots to learn about songwriting, arranging, producing, and all that.  One of the follies of youth that rings out on this album is probably something they had little control over.  Like I said, Mac sounds like an old geezer when his vocals are right.  On this album, the producers manage to tweak the balance and pitch ever so slightly, I believe, to make his voice sound younger.  The result is that Powell sounds almost like a Southern rock chipmunk at times.  Maybe I'm hearing things, but compare the vocals of Third Day to Come Together and tell me there's not a glaring difference in the tone and pitch.

But that's not enough to diminish the rootsy power of this album, or its homegrown gospel charm.  These boys brought something back to rock and roll and Christian music that had been missing.  And it's a soulfulness that is almost foolish in its youthful enthusiasm for Jesus.  Even after all these years, that power rings true today when I hear these old songs.  Preach it, boys!

Audio Adrenaline: Audio Adrenaline (1992)

 Tracks:

1. One Step Hyper
2. What You Need
3. Who Do You Love
4. PDA
5. The Most Excellent Way
6. J.E.S.U.S. Is Right
7. Revolution
8. Audio World
9. DC-10
10. My God
11. Life 

Audio Adrenaline made their break the musical backwash of the early '90s.  When four young men from Kentucky Christian College got together to make fun party music and rock out a little, dance music and hip-hop were the major forces moving in music.  Metal had let most of its hair fall out, Rock was in hibernation, and Rap was getting foul and violent.  The New Kids on the Block weren't so new anymore.  Grunge was a word used to describe the scum that gathered on the bottom of garbage cans, and Seattle was still known mostly for the Space Needle and computers.  So when the four young gentlemen started a band called A-180, they decided to make dance music and rap a little.  Then a little later they got a guitar and started playing louder stuff, and Audio A began its journey proper.

So it's no surprise that Audio Adrenaline sounds like a band that hadn't quite figured out how to be a band yet.  They had the big front man in Mark Stuart, who possessed a raw, frat-rocky voice that could coo gruffly when the mood shifted down, or bust a rhyme with authority when the house needed rocking.  They had the funky guitar player in Barry Blair, and the hyper bass player in Will McGinniss.  And Bob Herdman did everything from program a synth to play guitar and even banged the drum kit, although you would hardly notice it on this record.   That's because three other people played drums on it.

It's the digital programming and mixing that makes the album party-friendly, but it also puts the group in a weird position:  Are they party guys with lots of energy and a beat for everything, or are they an actual four-piece rock machine ready to take on the world?  It depends on what song you're listening to.  If it's the opening "One Step Hyper," they rock out with heavy beats and samples, and Mark sings a half-rap, half-rock workout that actually rhymes "hyper" with "viper" (I guess "Stryper" was already taken?).  If it's the mellow acoustic "Who Do You Love" it's smooth and silky with a bit of funk.  If it's "PDA" (That stands for Public Display of Affection, and bible colleges like KCC try to put a lid on such dangerous behavior), it's dance-friendly grooves with call-and-response vocals.  So far, the party is off the hook, Homes!

But then things get weirder.  "J.E.S.U.S. is Right" takes us to an island singalong with acoustic guitars, clapping, and rustic choirs chanting the title.  Then they have a few more dance numbers before bringing out the rock guns with "DC-10," a holdover from the A-180 days, and then do speed metal with "My God," an awesome song that had headbanging, guitar crunching, and McGinniss taking center stage on the break with a silly spoken interlude.  It was a very cool song in its time, and I remember our dorm room at Lincoln Christian College rocking to that one back in '92.

So they ended up being a party band on this one after all.  But the songwriting roots are there: Stuart, Herdman & Co. actually come up with some decent hooks in the midst of all the machinery.  It wouldn't be until the second album that they finally found their feet and could say, "We're A Band."  Still, the fun quotient would never top the level of this debut record, and really, who can dis that?

Rich Mullins: Rich Mullins (1986)

Tracks:

1. A Few Good Men
2. A Place to Stand
3. Live Right
4. New Heart
5. Elijah
6. Nothing But a Miracle
7. Both Feet on the Ground
8. These Days
9. Prisoner
10. Save Me   

Richard Wayne Mullins was an artist out of his time.  He had the misfortune to launch his solo career in one of the worst years in music history, setting sail into the vortex of synthesizers, big hair, and digital overload.  He was also an artist out of his element.  He had the audacity to ply his trade as a Christian Contemporary Artist even though he was deliberately single, essentially homeless (Indiana, Ohio, North Carolina, Kansas, and Arizona could all lay claim to him as native son), and conscientiously frugal.  He drove to his own gigs, played the hammer dulcimer, often dressed like his favorite store was the Salvation Army, and could sometimes come off as austere and monkish.  He embraced Catholicism as a religious heritage, admired St. Francis of Assisi, and generally seemed to be allergic to the Music City culture that fostered his very livelihood.  He seemed more like some itinerant backwoods evangelist who made a wrong turn at the fork in the road back in 1804 and somehow traversed the space-time continuum into the world of Beemers, parachute pants, and MTV. 

And yet, Rich Mullins was a modern-day songwriter through and through.  He knew how to come up with stirring melodies and catchy hooks, wrote down-to-earth if sometimes strange lyrics, knew how to surround himself with musicians and collaborators who understood what he was about, and most of all, had the ability to challenge himself as much as his audience to love Jesus with all of their might.  Even if that love asked questions of its Maker that most good Christians would have left within the walls of whatever cloister from which they had sprung.

 So, what about Rich Mullins, the album?  As stated above, it entered the world at a particular time when the likes of Michael W. Smith and Amy Grant--who had "discovered" Mullins--were the top of the pops of CCM.  Not that they had anything to do with the writing or production of the record, although Amy does make a cameo appearance on "Live Right."  But their influence can be heard in the room as the songs bop, pop, and snap to hard beats punctuated by electronic drums and Seinfeld-worthy bass patterns.   On the uptempo numbers, the arrangements tend to cast Rich as a workingman's rocker, with chunky, driving guitars and brassy keyboards.  

Setting aside the dated production and arrangements, the songs that resonate the most are the most intimate ones, where it's just Rich and the listener, and not the stadium rockers.  When Rich rocks out, as on the opener "A Few Good Men," it's not bad, but it feels crowded and overdone.  But when it's just him and the piano, the gap is bridged and he connects with almost brutal immediacy.  It's in this environment that the two best songs rise to the top, "Elijah" and "These Days."  The former has some the most moving words and phrasing on the record, especially with that expansive chorus.  The last line of the second verse struck me as I listened last night: "If they bury me with my fathers, or let my ashes scatter on the wind, I don't care."  Because of his sudden death, this has become something of a theme song for his work, but back in '86 it was just a statement of faith, as if the quasi-rocker told the band to take five and the simple believer stepped up to the keyboard.  "These Days" has a lot of the same qualities:  Deeply personal lyrics, big chorus, gruff epic vocals.      

In the end, Rich Mullins presents the singer and the songwriter in the context of his time and place.  It's not the best fit, as later records would reveal, as the artist would take back some of that context and turn it back to a simpler time.  Yet, the confessional songwriting, the warm, quiet power of the vocals, and the connection he is able to make even at this early stage all speak well for an artist in spite of his slightly wacky surroundings.   

The Seventy Sevens: Ping Pong Over The Abyss (1982)

Tracks:

1. A Different Kind of Light
2. How Can You Love
3. It's So Sad
4. Falling Down A Hole
5. Someone New
6. Renaissance Man
7. Ping Pong Over the Abyss
8. Time Is Slipping Away
9. Denomination Blues (That's All)
10. A Different Kind of Light (Live)
11. How Can You Love (4 Track Demo)
12. It's So Sad (Live)
13. Falling Down A Hole (Live)
14. Ping Pong Over the Abyss (4 Track Demo)
15. Denomination  Blues (Live)

Back in the '80s, when pop music was drowning in an electronic sea of synthesizers and sopping wet echo chambers, the Seventy Sevens were something of a point of black but needed light.  Their music, led by charismatic singer and guitarist Mike Roe (not to be confused with the host of Dirty Jobs, another hero of mine), was a reminder of where rock music came from, and seemed to embody in some small way the spirit that made the music of the 60s and 70s great.  They had loud, aggressive guitars that could swing from resonant jangle to roaring power chords to wicked blues riffs.   They played with power and melody, showing their classic rock roots with pride and a little bit of attitude.  And they were hip enough to bring modern alternative and new wave sounds into the equation, giving just enough of a quirky '80s vibe to keep them current with the kids.  

Their debut album, Ping Pong Over the Abyss, encapsulates this mix of sounds and influences and manages to take the listener into a place where the worldly noise of rock, punk, and new wave is fused to Christian philosophical statements and evangelistic messages decrying the ways of that noisy world.   The first track, "A Different Kind of Light," explores different religions and how they don't satisfy the singer's search until he sees the Light of Jesus.  Like much of the album, it's a well-constructed rock song with pop melodies and great rhythm guitar-playing.  In fact, Roe does very little soloing on this record; his energy is focused on great riffs and songcraft rather than the Big Rock Show.  He goes for clean sounds on "Light" and "Renaissance Man," among others.  At the other end, he cranks out harder stuff on "Falling Down a Hole" and the title track, the latter being a rather chaotic stop-and-start affair that shows how tight the rhythm section of Jan Eric Volz and Mark Proctor was even at this early stage.  It's the hardest rocker on the album, with gruff guitar sounds and manic singing by Roe.  

Roe's vocals already have proven to be versatile as he goes from melodic pop singing to skittish New Wave theatrics and grungy rawk power.  What he may lack in technique and range he makes up for with putting lots of character and emotion into each track.  Even on songs where he takes a somewhat preachy tone, he does his thing in such a way that communicates passion and drive rather than anger and condemnation.  What really shines through is his and keyboardist Mark Tootle's sense of melody.  Underneath the noise and chaos are strong pop hooks that are singable, with enough crazy twists to make them memorable.  

The charm of the Seventy Sevens, and Roe in particular, is their ability to balance these pop impulses--rooted in the rock and pop music of the 60s--with the energy and power of 70s hard rock, then fuse this with contemporary trends that sound genuine and sincere, whether it be New Wave in the 80s, grunge in the 90s, or any of the above.  This balance is not an easy thing to master: they rarely managed it in any one composition, and not always in their albums.  Because Roe writes in tandem with partners like Tootle, these pieces can get out of proportion, and any move in one of these directions can obscure that magic mixture.  The most blatant example of this on Ping Pong is "It's So Sad," a New Wave-centric track that is built around a clever but repetitive synth line.  Roe takes on a loopy "David Byrne" delivery that sounds a little silly after a while, but the real fun comes in the middle break, when Mike starts spelling "G-U-I-L-T-t-t-t-t..."   I can't take it seriously, and maybe that's the point; especially when he starts barking and warns, "Seems like you're falling down a deep...dark...hooooooole..."  It seems to work better on stage, as the crowd responds to it in the live version that is included in the bonus tracks.  I guess I had to be there, but as I was only 10 years old and 2000 miles away at the time, I'll have to rely on Spotify to take me there.

It's really the only misstep on this first foray into the Abyss for the Sevens.  They would get better at their craft, and stake out a more unique territory on later releases, but it's on this debut that they take us back to the Warehouse in Sacramento where all of the madness began.  

Oh!  I almost forgot!  The biggest surprise for me was "Denomination Blues."  Knowing Mike's tendency to rock the blues, I expected a big, acid-washed workout when I saw the Washington Phillips classic on the track list.  Instead, he plays it as a slow, country ballad, which makes sense, as it is something of a melancholy tune with a hopeful light at the end of the tunnel.  That Michael Roe, he's still surprising me 30 plus after the fact!
 

Daniel Amos: Daniel Amos (1976)

 

Tracks:

1. Jesus is Jehovah to Me
2. The Bible
3. Abidin'
4. William
5. Prelude: Servant's Prayer
6. Don't Light Your Own Fire
7. Losers and Winners
8. Walking on the Water
9. Ridin' Along
10. Dusty Road
11. Love in a Yielded Heart
12. Skeptic's Song
13. Happily Married Man
14. Ain't Gonna Fight It
 

Daniel Amos is one of those bands that just keeps trucking along, leading a long and varied line of fans (myself included) through a journey of faith, wonder, and weirdness.  At the head of the train is Terry Scott Taylor (he's the one on the far right in the above picture), a songwriter that cut his teeth in the midst of the California Jesus Movement of the early '70s.  Much like his home state, Taylor's musical legacy is rooted in classic pop, country, and surf music.  For me and a lot of other fans, this is a perfect storm of blissful sounds that could just as easily be termed "American music."  But on these sandy shores of melody there are any number of sea shells, bottle caps, seaweed, and inflatable sea creatures:  For all of its "rootsiness", Daniel Amos swirls in enough Cali flotsam and jetsam to create a colorful, slightly bizarre landscape of punkish pop and postmodern noise rock.  Think a cowboy in burmuda shorts, Jesus T-shirt, and pierced eyebrows, and you might get a picture of the fluid wagon train that is the DA sound.

I'm not even sure what that first paragraph meant, but trying to summarize Daniel Amos' legacy in any kind of brief statement is like describing the shape of air, to quote one of their later songs.   The best way is probably to start at the beginning, and that's where we find Daniel Amos, their debut on Maranatha Records.  A little bit of background:  Maranatha was the music publishing outreach of Calvary Chapel, the little church in Costa Mesa that made a point of reaching into the teen counterculture of the late '60s and early '70s with an old-fashioned gospel message.  Growing out of that culture, Taylor and his cohorts--guitarist Jerry Chamberlain, bassist Marty Dieckmeyer, and guitarist Steve Baxter--settled on a back-home country sound that fit in with the church's conservative doctrine.  Their first single from 1975, "Ain't Gonna Fight It", was a gentle acoustic ballad from Terry that set the pattern for things to come: slow tempo, simple country-based melody with glossy production and big harmony singing.  It's actually a pretty moving song with its simple message of surrender and faith.  

The album came out the next year and features the same sweet, homey sound, the band locking into basic shuffle rhythms and twangy guitar sounds.  Taylor slides his voice into his heaviest drawl and creates an image of a posse of dusty cowboy preachers ridin' through the prairie, roundin' up some varmints.

Those varmints are the religious outlaws that preach a gospel other than the one the Amos gang preach.  And it's this "Long Arm of the Lord" approach that obscures the message and tone of the album.  They start off with "Jesus is Jehovah to Me," a song directed at Jehovah's Witnesses (with a spoken interlude no less), and then follow that with "The Bible," a sweet if somewhat generic song about the Good Book that takes on false teachers.  These songs might work in a local church setting, where one would expect a preacher or teacher to defend the orthodoxy of their beliefs.  But for a band playing country music, it just sounds insular and preachy.  

More successful are the confessional moments on the record, when Taylor & Co. focus on their own struggles to stay on the righteous path.  "William" is a throwback to sunshine pop that laments the singer's treatment of a pious classmate.   "Walking on the Water," despite a somewhat languid tempo, has a certain maritime feel, with Terry flanging his voice as if he were on the waves.   "Dusty Road" starts out as a cowboy jaunt but ends up with some of the most gorgeous melodies and harmonies on the record.   

Then there are first of the many novelty songs that would become a band trademark.  These genre experiments provide a nice break from the twang-fest, if not the sermonizing; "Abidin'" and "Skeptic's Song" are kitschy, jazzy toe-tappers that hide moral teaching in zoot suits and bow ties.  

Back in the day, "Christian music" was a lot less diverse than it is today, mostly because it was still being defined as a genre.  Country music was a logical starting point for a band trying to find its way in that frontier.  And DA's brand of country was well-made and listenable, but the band that played "Ain't Gonna Fight It" and "Happily Married Man" would bear little resemblance to the band that would be moving into rock and new wave in five short years.  Stay tuned.

 

 

Phil Keaggy: What A Day (1973)

Tracks:

1.  That Is What The Lord Will Do For You

2. King Of The Jews

3. Walking With Our Lord

4. A Time And A Place

5. Rejoice

6. What A Day

7. Now I Can See

8. Behold, All Things Become New

9. Hallelujah

10. I Will Sing

We're starting with the guy who in many ways is the Beatles of Christian music.  Okay, that's going a bit overboard.  Because even the Beatles couldn't sustain a forty-year career.  Heck, they barely made it ten years.  But what makes the comparison really awkward is that words like revolutionary and history-making are used (rightly or wrongly) to describe the Beatles all the time in pop culture and media.  I consider myself a fairly dedicated PK fan, and I would never use those words to describe Philip Keaggy.  He's just not revolutionary or history-making or any other overblown accolade you can tack onto the Fab Four.  And the truth is, that's probably why I dig him so much.

The fact is, Phil is probably the most celebrated guitarist in Christian music, which is a pretty small fraternity to begin with.  He's also highly regarded in mainstream circles, but has never sought nor been given the title of Guitar God.  Here's the way I would describe Phil's body of work: Spiritual.  Virtuosic.  Winsome.  Humbly dynamic (or dynamically humble).  In other words, he didn't really invent a style of playing or songwriting, he didn't change the face of music, he didn't speak for a generation, he just played his best for his King, and his best just happens to be THE best there is.  Hence, my interest in his music.

So, if I were to make an analogy to a "classic" rock icon, I would feel comfortable saying, "Here's the Paul McCartney of Christian Music."  He's a venerable elder statesman of popular music, he has a long career over many decades (we're talking McCartney's solo career), he's a good songwriter, and he's a master musician.  But even this comparison does both men an injustice, because really, Phil is his own animal.  So, I'll shut up and get on with the album review.

With all of that hype, you would think Phil's solo debut, back in the early days of Contemporary Christian Music (when it was still called "Jesus Music") would be some earth-shattering, trail-blazing exposition.  Of course, you would be disappointed, because What A Day is about as un-epic as you can get.  First of all, it's a real one-man show; He plays all of the guitars, bass, and various light percussion on the album, in a little studio in Cleveland, no less.  Then there's the spirit of the music, which is embodied by the smiling young man on the record jacket:  Happy, gleeful, light, and almost child-like.  In other words, this ain't no rock and roll, kids.

The closest thing to rock might be "Rejoice" which has a pretty spirited coda, a faster tempo and more passionate singing than most of the songs on the album.  Like everything else, it's basically a song of praise built on an acoustic framework with multiple layers and overdubs.  It's clear Phil is going for a contemplative campfire vibe, and in that vein it works quite well.  His melodic gifts are front and center, and really carry the deceptively simplistic arrangements and mellow tone of the album.

The obvious highlight is the title track, and for good reason: it's the bounciest song on the record, has a big singalong chorus, and probably the only full-fledged guitar solo in its coda.  It has a definite 1920's swing feel, and you can almost hear some old big band playing the peppy intro and verses.  It's the one track that Phil plays in concert to this day, and "when I get home," I wouldn't be surprised to hear it in the Heavenly Band's repertoire.

Other standouts include "A Time and a Place", which has a nice bridge featuring a conversation between a Robin and a Sparrow; "Hallelujah", in which the title is the song's only lyric and features the patented Keaggy volume swells; and "Walking with Our Lord" which has a stop-and-start tempo and a fun little chorus with lots of "bop-ba-ba" backing vocals.

That light, poppy spirit imbues Phil's singing on this record, and really sets the tone for most of his career.  He's not a wailer, growler, or screamer; his vocals are some the est you'll hear, because he doesn't over-sing or try to sound "tough" or "bluesy".   He is what he is: just a believer with a guitar full of magic and a heart full of love for his Lord.