It’s a truth universally acknowledged that parents of teenagers can have a tendency to secretly like some of the music that is blaring out of their offsping’s room.
Needless to say, in our house, the music that I secretly (well – not any more!) like is that of Stormzy. From ‘Shut Up’ to ‘Vossi Bop’ to ‘Heavy is the Head’ to this song – ‘Do Better’. The video to this song was inspired by his performance at Glastonbury in 2019 – a performance that, for many, went down as one of the best Pyramid sets ever.
Funnily enough, whilst many of us who had watched were buzzing – Stormzy says “I came off stage and thought I’d totally, absolutely blown it,”. He says that he cried for an hour afterwards because he believed that it was the worst show he’d ever done. It transpires that his in-ear sound blew 20 minutes into the set and he had no sound. He couldn’t hear how good he actually was.
Even though people were reassuring him, it took organiser Emily Eavis to play it back to him so he could see how great it had been.
The lyrics to ‘Do Better’ manage to encapsualate the pressure that Stormzy is under – and also puts himself under. The video shows us the effort he puts into his work and brings to mind that being black means you have to work twice as hard at your craft to be seen and respected.
If I can do better then I’ll be better Rolling in the deep, I need to breathe better I see demons in my sleep, I need to sleep better
There are a lot of us out there who push ourselves to know more, do more and be more. It’s good to push ourselves a little – to strive for better, especially if that ‘better’ is for others. However, we can push ourselves too much, too far and too hard as well – and that doesn’t reap rewards for anyone.
The chorus throughout reminds us that though we can do better, it will still be okay. By all means, aim to be your best self (as they say these days) but remember that you can rest, you can let up, you can let down, you can be human.
I’m one of those people that is completely fascinated with words. I like to know the language that they originate from, whether there was an original meaning that is different from the one now and I like to understand how other languages have shaped and formed our English language.
This might also be why am fascinated with the lyrics of songs and how they marry meaning with music. Music on its own is a beautiful language but, to me, adding the perfect lyrics to the right rhythm and melody brings about a whole, new dimension.
One of my friends shared a word on Facebook a few days ago – ‘pluviophile’ (a lover of rain; someone who finds joy and peace of mind during rainy days). I was taken straight to this song from the 80’s which is part of my soundtrack to life because whenever I am caught in rain, I don’t necessarily run for cover. I can have a tendency to zip up my jacket properly, pull the hood up and surrender to the downpour. If I do, this is always the song that I start singing…
I’ve been walking in rain, just to get wet on purpose
Of course, the rest of the song is not about rain at all but is a series of one liners that capture the essence of inner turmoil and conflicted thoughts and feelings.
I hate that mirror It makes me feel so worthless I’m an original sinner but when I’m with you I couldn’t care less
and these words lead to the ultimate line I’ve been getting away with it all my life. I’m not sure about you, but there are many times in my life where these words couldn’t feel any truer. I’m talking about imposter syndrome. The School of Life Dictionary (which is a great book about emotional intelligence) describes imposter syndrome as ‘the crippling thought that people like us could not possibly triumph given what we know of ourselves: how reliably stupid, anxious, gauche, crude, vulgar and dull we really are’. I’ll just pause while you take an uncomfortable intake of breath…
Pause.
There are many times in my daily life where I hear people say things that tally with having imposter syndrome. The Local Preacher who still can’t quite believe they are entrusted with preaching; the youth worker who wouldn’t claim they are an expert about young people (even though they work with them day in, day out); the Minister who chairs church meetings feeling like they’re not qualified to do that. So many people have this underlying worry that they are ‘going to found out’ – for what?
In these ‘imposter syndrome’ moments, it’s worth bearing in mind that we are created and possess God-given gifts, skills and abilities. We’re already equipped by God for the work that we do – whether we feel we are worthy or not.
We don’t see and experience ourselves like others do, or how God sees and knows us. We don’t see that we’re capable of more than we think we are; we don’t realise that we’re respected and valued for our knowledge or our gifts; we don’t believe that we’re entrusted with such important tasks at times.
Let the feeling that you’re getting away with it wash away – and trust that God has placed you in the right time and the right place for the kingdom work that you are doing. Amen!
In the winter of 1998, the tiny bundle of joy that is my daughter was born. 1998 also marked the release of “This Is My Truth Tell Me Yours” by the Manic Street Preachers and for the last couple of months of me being pregnant, the house was filled over and over with the dulcet tones of James Dean Bradfield. It was one of those albums that was rarely out of earshot and got played at home, in the car or indeed anywhere you could manage it.
Just after she was born. In that space when the nurses had gone to make me some toast, and dad had gone to call the people who needed to know, there was just me and her. I wondered what I’d say to her and, or how, I could reassure her that she was in good hands and actually what happened was that I sang to her the chorus of this Manics track. I thought it would be familiar to her and that the tune and rhythm would already have been a constant background to her growing. I figured she need to hear something she didn’t even know she had already heard.
Looking back it does seem rather odd to sing to a newborn a track that’s about the horrors of the Spanish civil war. Even the words I sang have a strange menace.
If you tolerate this then your children will be next
Yet it served as a great reminder to me that I had new responsibilities for a tiny human now and whatever I did I had to pay attention to what really mattered. I’m hoping it set her off on a love of realising that music is soooo important in a person’s life and I think maybe it did if her grown-up self is anything to go by.
Our ability to tolerate the intolerable has really ramped up during the last 12 months or so. Our scant regard to the level of death here in this country on a daily basis, and across the world, whilst being worried if we can go out to the pub is astounding. Our willingness to see even larger scale tragedy in countries without the infrastructure or the political will to deal with a pandemic put in a “there but for the grace of God go we” kind of box.
Lets face it though we’ve got form and its not new. We don’t necessarily pay attention to what is or has happened.
I’ve walked La Ramblas
But not with real intent
We walk through places and situations paying little regard for the atrocities that happened there. We walk past statues for people who committed great wrongs and simply put it down to history rather than noticing the real impact on people just a step away. We watch documentaries about issues relating to basic civil rights and think that its history when we know that it is happening every day still.
Gravity keeps my head down
Or is it maybe shame
How we deal with our failure as human individuals or as a collective is fascinating. We know that people are starving every day and living under the most intolerable of circumstances. That they are impacted on by our desire for goods at cheaper cost, for more and more electronic communication and the resources required to make the next gadget, by our hunger for travel and exploration, by our need of convenience and things that make our lives easier. By the struggle for power that brings war and oppression. By our island mentality that seeks to keep out the refugee rather than offer welcome. Yet we seem somehow powerless to act.
But we’ll forget it all again
Monuments put from pen to paper
Turns me into a gutless wonder
I have no idea how we really fix it but I do know that it’s not enough to ignore it, forget it or bury it on the pile of “jobs that are too hard”. God calls us to do what we can. God calls us to do more than we think we can. God calls us to pay attention. I think I’m a bit scared by the enormity of it all but I do recognise that we have to stand up and be counted however we can.
If you tolerate this then your children will be next
The most haunting part of this track for me comes at the start and end. The sound of a tiny little tune – maybe from a child’s mobile. I don’t think the driver for our intolerance of injustice should be just because it might come to catch us out one day but rather because its what God requires of us. Because we bound up into one great big human family – and each and every one matters.
It’s a cracking tune. It’s a cracking album from the Manics. But believe me much of what they write is not for the faint-hearted and neither should it be.
I was first introduced to this song in the early 90’s by my friend Julie. Most Friday evenings in the summer of 1991, I would stay over at hers as I lived a few miles away from town. It was much more preferable than catching a taxi (or Joe Baxi as we liked to call them in Preston) home on my own.
She’d discovered the Paul Young version – he sang it at Nelson Mandela 70th Birthday Tribute at Wembley Stadium in 1988 – and she would play it as we got ready for bed. It was, in fact, a lullaby for a couple of twentysomethings for a while. Ah bless.
Pretty much around the same time, Crowded House became quite a popular band in the UK with the release of ‘Woodface’ and I did, in fact, see them live at St George’s Hall, Bradford in 1992. There was great joy of being able to sing along with the original writer at the top of my voice I can tell you.
I don’t know what it is about this song but it grabbed me straight away. Maybe it’s the simplicity for the heartbeat-like rhythm, or the mix of melancholy and optimism or the rich, poetic lyrics. For me, it has everything that I want from a song.
As I was walking the dog tonight, I was listening to it again and it struck me that it has Psalm-like qualities about it where song and story and prayer and poetry fuse. It captures struggle and challenge whilst seeking and offering comfort and hope. It knows that life is difficult, that things don’t go according to plan but while you have me by your side, you’ll be okay because it’s love that wins.
So have a read and have a listen to a 20th Century Psalm.
There is freedom within There is freedom without Try to catch the deluge in a paper cup There’s a battle ahead Many battles are lost But you’ll never see the end of the road While you’re travelling with me
Hey now, hey now Don’t dream it’s over Hey now, hey now When the world comes in They come, they come To build a wall between us We know they won’t win
Now I’m towing my car There’s a hole in the roof My possessions are causing me suspicion But there’s no proof In the paper today Tales of war and of waste But you turn right over to the TV page
Hey now, hey now Don’t dream it’s over Hey now, hey now When the world comes in They come, they come To build a wall between us We know they won’t win
Now I’m walking again To the beat of a drum And I’m counting the steps to the door of your heart Only shadows ahead Barely clearing the roof Get to know the feeling of liberation and release
Hey now, hey now Don’t dream it’s over Hey now, hey now When the world comes in They come, they come To build a wall between us You know they won’t win
Don’t let them win (Hey now, hey now) Hey now, hey now Hey now, hey now Don’t let them win (They come, they come) Don’t let them win (Hey now, hey now), yeah Hey now, hey now
Crowded House are still going strong – and are about to release a new album. Find out more from their website at https://www.crowdedhouse.com/
Here are two deeply spiritual men, multi-award winners, black and thoughtful. They both cross into a wide variety of musical styles. They can both present aggressive and meaty music. And they both make clear that they follow God.
Pharrell: “We’re followers. And we’re not following God. We’re following men.” He is highly critical of the political system of power and its injustices. He and Kirk Franklin collaborate. Williams has been interviewed on Franklin’s radio show discussing his approach to his faith “… on paper I’m a Christian but really I’m a Universalist,” said Williams. “Do I think that Christianity is the only way? No. I think the only route for everything is their connection to God … There’s religious dogma that gets involved, something for the greater good and sometimes for not so great reasons … But they give you a way, a vehicle to get to God.”
Pharrell Williams was brought up in a strong Pentecostal background. He’s been walking with God a long time.
Kirk Franklin was brought up in the Baptist tradition. He had a very troubled young life but eventually led the Georgia Mass Choir. Both men have walls full of musical distinctions and trophies; Grammys and so on. And yet, despite being huge artists, you may only be fleetingly aware of them.
They have many things in common, but two things stand out. They are men of faith. They are black.
For these two men not to be household names where the names of many a white artist of equal or lesser success and talent trip off the lips, let’s you know something is going on – you may have noticed that I just slipped in a Marvin Gaye reference there for fun; after all it is considered the premier album of the twentieth century.
Neither man conforms to a stereotype. They don’t shy away from social issues, but neither have an aggressive image. They both arrange their own material, are highly musically educated, they have a high control of their own product and image.
I’ve chosen two of their songs which show their positivity. Through all their music they have such a strong faith in goodness without naivety. ‘Happy’ was a huge international success and the video that ran with it is a complete joy. I’ve used it as people walk into church; they often look a little bemused. ‘I Smile’ was more of a big hit in the gospel community. Again, linked with its video it is guaranteed to make you feel better; I’ve used it twice in church.
These are lyrics that just grab you under the armpits, lift you out of the gutter. We have become so used, especially with white soft rock Christian bands to ‘being saved’ or hushed tones of thankfulness, or focusing on the sacrifice of Jesus that, as worthy as these things are, we forget the simple thing of being happy to be a Christian. We bypass and don’t mention the good feeling of happiness that is in our faith.
Black churches and gospel music, and contemporary Black Christian music, has always had a balance about the sheer pleasure that loving and recognising God at work gives us. And that translates into physically showing that our faith gives us a special kind of happiness.
Williams makes it clear:
It might seem crazy what I’m about to say Sunshine she’s here, you can take a break I’m a hot air balloon that can go to space With the air, like I don’t care baby by the way (come on)
Because I’m happy Clap along if you feel like a room without a roof Because I’m happy Clap along if you feel like happiness is the truth Because I’m happy Clap along if you know what happiness is to you Because I’m happy Clap along if you feel like that’s what you wanna do (hey)
And the video which encouraged people to send in their dance 24 hour celebration of happiness on YouTube reaffirmed the physicality of happiness.
Franklin tells you that part of the healing process is:
I smile, even though I hurt see I smile I know God is working so I smile Even though I’ve been here for a while I smile, smile It’s so hard to look up when you been down Sure would hate to see you give up now You look so much better when you smile
Both men know it can be hard, but they both know that inner joy, shown on the outside, makes a huge difference.
Williams:
Here come bad news talking this and that (yeah) Well, give me all you got, and don’t hold it back (yeah) Well, I should probably warn you, you’ll be just fine (yeah) No offense to you, don’t waste your time (Here’s why)
Because I’m happy
Franklin:
I dedicate this song to recession Depression and unemployment This song’s for you
Today’s a new day, but there is no sunshine Nothing but clouds, and it’s dark in my heart And it feels like a cold night Today’s a new day, where are my blue skies Where is the love and the joy that you promised me Tell me it’s alright
I almost gave up, but a power that I can’t explain Fell from heaven like a shower
I smile, even though I hurt see I smile I know God is working so I smile Even though I’ve been here for a while I smile, smile It’s so hard to look up when you been down Sure would hate to see you give up now You look so much better when you smile, so smile
You know the kind of Christians I listen to? You know the kind of Christians that most people want to listen to? You know the kind of faith that most people open up to?
It’s the Christians who are open about walking through the trials of their lives and yet remaining welcoming and, yes, happy…. And show it. There are a lot of smiling Christians around who show their joy and kindness in a smile, in word, in laughter and in welcoming body language. Unfortunately, and this can too often be among church leaders, there is a stiffness, a reserve, a dourness, a studied pomposity. They would die rather than risk a little silliness. Particularly for the very young and younger people in general, the first thing that gets you into a conversation is that someone is smiling.
Yes, life is hard, but…… it’s also happy.
Franklin, tells us what God wants:
See I just want you to be happy ‘Cause then you have to have something you haven’t been I want you to have joy ’cause can’t nobody Take that away from you I see you smile
I’ve been sitting with this song for months. Wondering why it made an impact on me and what it was about it that I found it hard to put down. All of a sudden I think I realise that this is a song that offers layer upon layer of stuff to me. A bit like a multi-tiered Black Forest Gateaux.
Firstly it is a most fabulous kitchen disco track. Just right for the tea breaks implanted in long zoom meetings. You can’t help but bounce around the house and shake off all that tension. Lose yourself in the energy of it and let the sound wash over you. Its refrain of reassurance growing and becoming stronger each time its sung.
I know you’re gonna be there when it breaks
I know we’re gonna be there when it breaks
We’re all gonna be there
Who wouldn’t want to sing and dance about being together again with people we have faith in or indeed having confidence that this thing will be over. Who wouldn’t want to sing of the confidence they have in a God of constancy.
Which may reveal something else about why I really like it.
It has certainty. It’s not about if, it’s about when. It’s not about maybes but definites.
It knows the storm(s) will pass and whatever comes after will be beautiful and alive and everybody will want to be a part of it. Just like the summer of 45 in Paris or when statues of oppression are torn down in every town.
Finally for me it’s a song about transformation.
It calls us to notice what we have and what we value.
To step up and face the reality.
To recognise it might take all our reserves
To kick in the door if we need to and make a change.
To act in solidarity.
As people of faith we often wonder what there is for us to notice about the people and situations we encounter in life. What we’re called to and what God requires of us.
Maybe we’re required to embrace the fact that life is a vibrant complex dance, twisting and turning to a relentless beat. Maybe we are called to notice what’s going on and stand up for changes that make things better. Maybe we are needed to stand in the middle of the chaos and for certain, for me, we’re called to be there when it breaks.
So go on sing at the top of your voice and join in the divine dance of reassurance and a call to action for this and every Friday ☺
Ten years ago a friend and I enjoyed a wee dram of single malt while listening to music. As we listened, we reflected on how good it was to share music and whisky! This idea grew. We invited some other friends to an evening with a few simple instructions; bring 2 pieces of music on a theme (the first night was simple ‘favourite tracks’), bring a favourite tipple and some food to share. This all took place in a Cheshire village called Moulton, so we gave the music night the title ‘Malt’n’Music’!
We have met many times since and even started to promote live music in the village (https://www.maltnmusic.co.uk). Last month we celebrated our 10th anniversary. We have been forced over the last year to meet on Zoom but we still bring a couple of tracks on a theme and our favourite drink – the food will have to wait until we can meet again in person!
Over the years Malt’n’Music has cost me a lot of money as I have bought numerous records of bands I have just been introduced to! (Yes! I still invest in music by buying CDs and Vinyl! I don’t rent music from the internet – that’s a rant for another blog!)
After our 10th Anniversary Meeting, I invested in an Idjut Boys album and was immediately struck by the refrain from Shine…
We’re in this together Make it forever This place, this time Your love and mine Let it shine
With these words sloshing around the forefront of my mind I passed a church noticeboard. Facing the main road, was a colourful poster depicting a cross made out of handprints and the message ‘His love is for everyone’. What a wonderful message to proclaim to all those who pass a church building. Surely no one can argue with the message! God’s love is for all.
So why, when I saw it, did I feel a sense of incompleteness?
…we’re in this together…
We are called not only to declare God’s love is for all but also to show that our love is for all too. I have witnessed and heard too many stories of churches and Christians who judge rather than love, love only their friends or people who are like them or allow racism, homophobia, sexism, bullying and other non-gospel behaviour to go unchecked.
…we are in this together…
We cannot hide behind the phrase ‘His love for everyone’ – our love must be for all too. As individual Christians, our lives – as Churches, our communities – must be overflowing in love. It is only half of the story to say God’s love is for all. A true witness to God’s love is when our own love is for all.
…make it forever…
God’s love is eternal – not talking about the afterlife but – for all time, from everlasting to everlasting. Our love can’t have a day off, take a rest or pick and choose. Our love is for all time.
…this place, this time, your love and mine…
We are called to love our communities, the places we live and worship in. God so loved the world that Jesus came and lived among us. We talk about following Christ, we cannot follow Christ from the safety of our pews. We are called to dwell among the communities we serve and to love all as Jesus did – even the tax collectors!
…let it shine…
The lyrics finish with the simple, yet triumphant, statement. Loving all people will speak volumes. Our love will shine and we won’t need words to convince people of the reality of God. When we’re in this together, declaring God’s love, and showing ours, for everyone, we proclaim the gospel.
Make it forever This place, this time Your love and mine Let it shine
As James puts it in chapter 2 of his epistle;
14 What good is it, my brothers and sisters, if you say you have faith but do not have works? Can faith save you? 15 If a brother or sister is naked and lacks daily food, 16 and one of you says to them, ‘Go in peace; keep warm and eat your fill’, and yet you do not supply their bodily needs, what is the good of that? 17 So faith by itself, if it has no works, is dead.
One of the lovely things about lyrics and music is that you can change the pace or style of the music and it seems to completely change the mood and meaning.
One such song for me is the ever-popular ‘Take On Me’ by A-Ha. I first heard this acoustic version a few years ago – and to be quite honest, it’s the version that I much prefer.
Strip back the synths and guitars, slow the pace and ‘unplug’ it and, for me, it becomes reflective and thought-provoking.
It even takes me to Maundy Thursday in my imaginings. Who would have thought that Morten, Pal and Mags could transport me to such a pivotal moment in time – but they do.
I can’t help hearing tiny bits of narrative from the various people involved on the night and hours following Jesus’s arrest and trial.
Judas, Jesus, the disciples in Gethsemene, Peter, Pilate…
We’re talking away I don’t know what I’m to say. I’ll say it anyway
The Upper Room – chatter and food. Judas planning a fatal action. Jesus breaking bread and sharing wine.
Take on me Take me on
“Do this in remembrance of me.”
I’ll be gone In a day or two
“I tell you, I will never drink of this fruit of the wine until that day when I drink it new with you in my Father’s kingdom.”
So, needless to say I’m odds and ends I’ll be stumbling away
“All of them deserted him and fled”
Say after me It’s no better to be safe than sorry
‘”Before the cock crows, you will deny me three times’. And he went out and wept bitterly.
Oh, things that you say Is it a life or just to play my worries away?
“Pilate said to them, ‘Then what should I do with Jesus who is called the Messiah?’”
Gethsemene
Friday.
Saturday.
Sunday. He is risen.
And beyond.
“And surely I am with you always, to the very end of the age.”
You’re shying away I’ll be coming for your love anyway
The Friday Fix 