// songs for summer (1)

Summer necessitates new music, so here’s some of the music that’s made it onto my ipod recently:

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Modest Mouse: “Float On”:

Modest Mouse’s Isaac Brock has the weirdest voice, but stick it out to the Chorus and you’ll find that this song embeds itself into your brain and simply refuses to go away…

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Richard Hawley: “The Ocean”:

Just a sample from Richard Hawley’s excellent album “Coles Corner”, he’s yet to write a bad song. It took a while to grow on me, but when it does, there’s a mellow beauty to it that’s pretty rare. Many of his other videos are on Youtube, and well worth checking out.

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Jon Foreman: “House of God, Forever”:

Jon Foreman’s re-imagining of Psalm 23 is a thing of beauty. The moment in the second chorus where the two vocal harmonies enmesh should send shivers down your spine, but it’s the breezy harmonica in the intro that really does it for me. Just about everything Jon has done acoustically is brilliant, but special mention goes to “Behind your Eyes” and “The Cure for Pain”, as well as “Your Love is Strong”, which i’ve posted elsewhere…

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God Help the Girl: “Come Monday Night”:

Exciting chiefly in that it is, to all intents and purposes, a new Belle and Sebastian album (+musical), this doesn’t quite scale the heights of early B&S but is at least pointing in the right direction. And any new Belle and Sebastian is a cause for celebration…

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That’s enough for now, i think; it should keep you going for the next week or so. Enjoy!

// lifelong learning

My sister, who is coming to the end of her first year studying psychology at Lancaster, rang me up on Wednesday, the day after I wrote the final essay of my degree. “Do you know what I learned today?” she asked, reeling off a psychology fact that i’ve already forgotten (it was something to do with the brain, I think).

My reply?

“Do you know what I learned today? Nothing.”

It’s a reply that I thought would have evoked more joy when I said it – and seriously, don’t get me wrong, where i am now, this post-exam state, this is an awesome state to be in. It’s the first time in about three years that I can truthfully say that I don’t feel guilty at the fact that I’m not learning new things. But it’s also a slightly sad place to be at the same time: because, to be honest, I spent my first day of freedom doing very little apart than playing on the Xbox for about six hours. And for all the strain and stress of the past few years, there’s something exciting about consistently learning new things, and not letting brain, heart, body and soul atrophy…

I met up with a friend last night who told me he had run out of money as he’s been buying theology books; he’s currently working in a temp job, but he spends his evenings reading John Stott and Alistair McGrath as he gets bored in the middle of the day and needs something else to think about. He’s another Oxford graduate, which might explain it, but he also serves as an inspiration: a reminder that this opportunity is something to be prized, because this sort of space to expand your knowledge and your mind is pretty rare, and it’s something pretty valuable when you get it.

I’m the same, really: sooner or later I’m going to need to make a decision as to whether these next few weeks are going to be weeks spent in my lounge playing Fallout 3, or weeks in which I make the most of the time I have left in this university, and that’s a decision that has its wider consequences. In the long run, that comes down to a decision of who to be in the world beyond Oxford University – whether to be somebody who keeps pursuing things, taking risks and stepping out into different areas of life, or somebody who settles for the easy option. And don’t get me wrong, that ‘easy option’ isn’t half appealing.

That’s not meant to be a proposal for a life with no peace, of never learning to rest or sitting in silence. That’s not the point at all, and of course, sometimes there is a place for simply stopping and letting yourself be refreshed. But it would be too easy to switch off at this point, and accept that the ‘learning’ part of this life is over; to stop looking at things with wonder and stop pursuing those new experiences, those things that take your breath away. And that doesn’t have to be in books; for example, I doubt that I’ll be reading anything written before 1997 for a few months, at the very least. But I fully intend to investigate the joys of listening to Modest Mouse and Richard Hawley, to finally get around to watching Mad Men and The Wire and all those other shows that are on my ‘to-do’ list, to listen to those sermon podcasts from John Piper and Pete Greig and others that my Itunes keeps downloading for me…

And I need you to keep me in check on that, too. I didn’t write this blog on Wednesday, because I thought that I had nothing more to say, no thoughts left. I nearly didn’t write it today, because the draw of the Xbox sitting in my lounge was too great. That’s dangerous, a pattern that it is worth fighting. I’m fairly sure that it was New Labour that came up with the term “lifelong learning”, and much as it pains me to use that kind of twee, politically-devised terminology, that’s actually pretty good.

My response to my sister yesterday wasn’t wholly truthful. After speaking to her, I ended up at Hungry, a monthly prayer gathering at my church, and spent a couple of hours around a group of people passionate for God, seeking His will and His intervention in a variety of ways – people who were unwilling to let themselves get stale, unwilling to disengage from the world and take the easy option instead. That’s our story, eventually; that nothing really stands still, even when it’s apparently doing just that. Even inaction is a kind of action, and not necessarily a good kind. Last night was a fitting reminder of that fact, and a much-needed one – the exams may be over, but the learning has really only just begun.

If you’re reading this in the midst of exams, I get that this post probably sounds like a sick joke, and I don’t mean it that way. But bear that in mind when this is all over: relaxation is one thing, but atrophy is another thing entirely.

Now if I can just resist the temptation to spend the rest of the afternoon playing on the Xbox…

// Tim Hughes plus Nike+ equals awesome / David Crowder’s awkward moment

Wow, second post today! This was originally going to be a short one, but then i came across something astonishing on the internet which just demands to be flagged up. First things first, though:

(1)  A couple of years back, Nike released “Nike +“, which effectively amounts to being a chip that you put in your shoe/Nike armband, which then syncs with your ipod and measures how far you’ve run. You can then set up contests on the internet or with your family to see who ran the most, or the farthest, or so on. They also released some music to go with these – LCD Soundsystem and a bunch of other people put together tracks tailored to the ‘running experience’, designed to facilitate your workout through its various stages (by the way, the LCD Soundsytem is called “45.33″, and it really works). Still with me?

Well, y’see, i bought Tim Hughes’ new live worship album earlier today – it’s called “Happy Day” – and since this afternoon, i’ve got this theory that Tim Hughes must be in league with Nike+. Seriously, the way in which the album rises and falls, it makes for the perfect soundtrack to a workout, and my run this afternoon accompanied by Tim was one of the best i’ve had in months. If you also own the album and are also a runner, could you try this out and see if i’m going crazy? I’ll admit, i was pretty amazed why i tried it…

It’s also well worth buying generally, but i’ll post more about that some other time.

But, and arguably much more exciting:

(2) A couple of days ago there was a story about Miss America being forced to step down from her position because she publicly spoke about how she doesn’t support gay marriage. I’m not going to debate this issue here, by the way. But David Crowder’s account of how he accidentally came to be pictured across the world’s news networks giving her a standing ovation is hysterically, hysterically funny, not least because of Dave’s writing style. Give it a look.

Poor guy.

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I will still post a substantive post tomorrow, by the way, rather than just posting web-trivia and conspiracy theories. Honestly.

// your love is strong (unplugged)

I’ve been listening to Jon Foreman’s worship-flavoured “Your Love is Strong” recently – it’s an amazing re-imagining of the Lord’s Prayer, taken from his acoustic EP’s (Fall, Winter, Spring, Summer – it’s on the “Spring EP”) and his album, “Limbs and Branches”. Check out a live unplugged version below. Try to ignore him citing both Radiohead and U2 in his “influences”, though; that’s just a little embarrassing:

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(our God in heaven, hallowed be

thy name above all names

your kingdom come, your will be done

on earth as it is in heaven,

give us today our daily bread

forgive us weary sinners

keep us far from our vices and

deliver us from these prisons…)

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I’ll post a more substantive post tomorrow, but for the moment, enjoy.

[PS. You'll notice, by the way - he's playing in a coffee shop]

// words fail me…

I’m not usually a fan of hip-hop, and Christian hip-hop even less so, but this is one thing i honestly never expected to see – the words of John Piper set to a hip-hop beat:

It’s actually remarkably good…

// (why switchfoot are still subversive)

I may be the only person in the world who thinks it is in any way daring or subversive to buy a Switchfoot album – and not just any Switchfoot album, but a “best of” album at that – but bear with me a second on this one…

(of course, you may by now have, entirely justifiably, clicked “back” in disgust, and if so, i’m sorry…)

I remember the album that redefined worship music for me – David Crowder* Band’s “Illuminate”. It still has quite such fond memories for me partly because of the way in which i discovered it. You see, the community i became a Christian in was one that wasn’t all that keen on worship music – sure, they used it in church, but the bulk of church was for teaching, and i didn’t know many people who listened to worship CDs on their own time. Certainly the group of friends i had at the time, who were chiefly knitted together by a love of music, of all kinds (albeit mostly indie tips – i discovered Belle & Sebastian at fifteen and never looked back from there), never talked of worship music except in tones of derision.

When i came across David Crowder, by accident, i was searching for a version of “Blessed be Your Name”, a song that i’d heard on a Scripture Union holiday and liked a lot. He was one of the artists in the “You May Also Like…” box on Itunes, and i liked the 30-second clips, so i bought the album, put it on my ipod shuffle, pretty much forgot about it and definitely didn’t talk about it to anybody. It was only when a song that took my breath away then and, mostly, still takes my breath away now – “O Praise Him (All this for a King)” – came on, that i met with any real problems. Like, for example, how to broach this with my friends – not just that i listened to worship music, not even just that i bought it, but that i also liked it. It was social suicide. So i did what any sane person would have done. I didn’t mention it. For years, in fact. I enjoyed my worship music behind closed doors, as my dark secret, my slightly embarassing deviation from church practice.

This isn’t the time or the place to either critique or criticise my church back then, but what i remember most from all of this was the way in which worship seemed both intimate and valuable in the midst of it all. Intimate in that it was mine (or so i thought), a way of meeting with God apart from the culture of Christianity that surrounded me, focussed on expressing awe at God, His nature and all he’d done; valuable in that, though i had to keep it secret, fight for it, it still felt worth fighting for, something that i didn’t want to give up. In short, it gave me a healthy awareness of the sheer importance of worship in my own life and in the lives of others.

I now attend a church that has an amazing culture of musical worship, times of space and praise in which it is possible to meet with God in the midst of a hectic week, but that also makes it uncomfortably easy to forget that initial rush i experienced, the importance of what it is that we do. I, for one, need to keep remembering that it is an honour to be able to worship God in this way and a gift to be in a culture that it allows us to do so; to keep a perspective of who He truly is and to keep from making worship a mechanised routine, either as background music or just as 40 minutes of white noise before the main talk on a Sunday.

Which brings me back to Switchfoot. I only discovered that Switchfoot even had a “best of” album out because of Spotify (trendy indie kid that i am…), but when i went to Itunes to find it, it wasn’t there. Skipping across download stores to find it, i eventually came across it on Amazon’s MP3 store, and promptly bought it, but the search got me thinking. I remember, pre-Amazon and widespread download services, ordering albums like that through what felt like slightly grubby Wesley Owen mail order catalogues, or heading to branches of CLC tucked away in back streets to shell out £15 for a worship album. It felt wrong, on some levels, and also special. Recently i feel like i made worship too easy, and having to hunt to find it reminded me that there is importance in this; that it is worth seeking, especially when done right; that comfort and ease can dull our senses to the awesome privilege that coming to worship God, the God of the Universe, Alpha and Omega, First and Last, really is…

And i’m glad for that, even though i will inevitably forget it in the next worship session that fails to connect, or the next time that “Illuminate” comes on my ipod and i decide that i’ve heard it too many times. Don’t get me wrong, it’s awesome that more Christian artists now have greater exposure, are becoming more innovative and better-publicised, and i’m glad of that. But as Matt Redman put it all the way back in 1994, “this is a holy moment now | Something of heaven touches earth | Voices of angels all resound | We join them now…” and, more recently, David Crowder’s cry:

i’m just trying to make you sing
from inside where you believe
like it’s something that you need
like it means everything
and i’m trying to make you feel
that this is for real
this life is happening
i’m just trying to make you sing…

let’s not forget just how amazing that privilege really is. As that would be a real shame…