I love music. And I listen to a lot of music. I listen to enough music with enough of a critical ear that it’s very rare that I’m blown away by an artist who almost instantly becomes part of my regular listening.

Several years ago, my wife and some good friends and I had the chance to go see Bill Mallonee (formerly of Vigilantes of Love) play in a yoga studio in Dallas. As we sat down and prepared for the music, we let out a collective sigh as we realized that there would be an opening artist. One man climbed behind a keyboard and other other, with a wisp of white hair and dark-rimmed glasses, positioned himself on a chair with his guitar and a stomp-box. The moment they started playing, our love affair with Doug Burr’s music began.

It’s often difficult to write objectively about music. It’s even more difficult to write objectively about an artist you admittedly love. So it is that I sat down to try to review Doug Burr’s latest album O Ye Devastator.

The cover image of Devastator serves as the perfect introduction to the music found inside. A mournful bride peeks out from behind the veil. The beauty of the day is tinged by here eyeliner which makes one wonder if she’s been crying. There is a heaviness in her eyes that darkens the veil behind which she hides. Over the course of four albums, Burr has explored the seemingly contradictory themes of this image.

Burr’s work has continued walked the tightrope of faith and doubt and sin and redemption. 2003’s The Sickle and the Sheaves was a hopeful work drawing heavily on gospel themes while 2007’s On Promenade used the Van Gogh brothers as a centerpiece to explore themes of longing and doubt. In case there was any question about the depths that Burr was setting out to plumb, in late 2008, he put The Shawl, a collection of Psalms. The message was clear: Burr was compelled to explore the borderlands of faith and doubt in a way many artists shy away from. Salvation is seen brightest against depravity and you must see both to see the whole. Devastator not only continues these explorations but shines the light brighter on the darker side of hope.

The tone of hope-tinged blackness is immediately set with the album opener A Black Wave is Comin‘ as Burr wonders against soaring strings that betray the ominous tone:

So what do you see my lover

and what do you see my friend

I don’t know, I don’t know at

Midnight comes a snow

I can’t see, but I hear a little hymn

Whereas the Van Gogh brothers serves as the couplet centerpiece of On Promenade, here it is a mother and child who are caught in the jaws of depravity. Chief of Police In Chicago sets the stage as a police officer informs a brand new mother that her child has tested positive for a gene found in criminals. You’ve Been A Suspect All Your Life captures an exchange between the mother and child in which the mother tells her child “You’ve been a suspect all your life:”

And I don’t have the strength to see you this way

And oh, how this city would change your name

Oh, but you are the apple of my eye

No exoneration until you die.

This potent mixture of love and loss, of hope and faith and doubt is carried through songs like At The Public Dance in which a man is at once drawn to and repelled by the woman he pursues and Do You Hear Wedding Bells in which the celebratory notes ring “wreckless and drunk in the air like maybe they don’t know what kind of streets they’re stumblin down or they just don’t care.”

Throughout the album, the music accentuates the themes perfectly. Soaring strings and wistful pedal steel frame the questions of life and the struggles life and faith.

This is not what most people think of as “Christian” music and that’s what makes it so right. It is one of the most honest albums in one of the most honest catalogs I have come across in a long time. If it’s true that we should judge an artist by their catalog rather than their singles, then Burr is gradually positioning himself as one wise beyond his years. He is not afraid to remind us that there are black waves on the horizon, we are caught in the middle of forces we may not understand or be able to control, but there is always the ray of hope shining through, as he reminds us in And When We Awoke:

And when we awoke

The sea still foamin’ red

The bells have all begun ringin’, swingin’

Oh, sleeper, lift your head

Sleeper, lift your head

Burr is content letting some pieces of the puzzle remain unplaced. Are you? This is, by far, one of my favorite albums of the year. Highly recommended.

Watch a recent interview with Burr:

• Hear Doug Burr walk through the album track by track

Over the past ten years or so, Sandra McCracken has proven herself to be one of the most literate and thoughtful songwriters just this side of “CCM.” She embodies much of what we love over at the Habañero Hour, the occasional music/interview podcast and house-show hostings I do with my good friend Mark: she doesn’t immerse herself in the silly games that have come to define what is and what isn’t marketed as “Christian” music, yet she consistently and powerfully writes about her life, faith, hopes and struggles. All in such a way that you either feel like they’re you’re own or you’re right there with her. In other words, she is a talented songwriter.

She is also at the forefront of a growing number of artists breathing new life into hymns. Her connections with RUF and Indelible Grace culminated in 2006’s wonderful album of hymns The Builder and the Architect. On that album, McCracken set a high bar both for herself and others exploring old hymns for new generations. She built on her trademark sound while Derek Webb’s production pushed the boundaries of that sound, adding new textures and tones. When McCracken announced that she was working on a new album of hymns, the question for many was: will the new album live up to the standard of the first?

It does. As with The Builder and the Architect, the songs are perfectly matched with McCracken’s writing, voice, performing, and Webb’s production. I really think that as a producer of this type of music, Webb shines. His ear for tone and detail are exceptional. I don’t know how else to describe it except to say that there is a “warmth” to the music that many of other hymns-projects would do well to imitate. It perfectly suits the songs. The music is primarily acoustic with some tasteful yet important electronic flourishes.

The songs are largely mellow to mid-tempo and very singable (which, after all, a hymn should be, right?). The songs are re-worked and original hymns written by McCracken. If there is a theme to the album, it seems to be Jesus’ ever-present nearness (both in feast or fallow) and ongoing work, whether it be answering our petitions or delivering justice. Both Jesus’ immanence and transcendence are held high in the context of relationship with Him. His provision is central throughout. The lyrics are both comforting and challenging. Even as we are thankful for Jesus answering our petitions, we long for further justice to roll down. This is the ongoing tension of the Christian life and Webb’s production, with acoustic warmth and electronic flourishes plays this out well.

The music feels instantly comfortable in the best possible way, like you’ve somehow known it for years, like it’s already a part of you. Highly recommended.

Here is McCracken performing “Justice Will Roll Down:”

I love watching artists grow. It is a wonderful thing to listen as musical artists find their own voice. Sometimes an artists nails it on their debut release, but that is quite rare. In that way, musicians are often a bit like preachers. We learn by imitating others, by trying on their shoes. But it only takes a few steps to realize that we can’t walk very far in someone else’s shoes. After a while, good preachers find their own voice as do good musicians. The trick becomes letting your influences influence without trying to emulate them.Letting history shine through the prism of your vision without overshadowing it.

Matt Haeck seems to have found his voice. After 2008’s Pair of Sirens, which paid a bit too much debt to Derek Webb (sorry Matt), Matt moved to Nashville, hung out with Holiday at the Sea favorite Joe Garner, and found his voice. Haeck recently released Western States, a seven-song EP that delivers on the promise only hinted at earlier. What’s fascinating is that Haeck not only seems to have drunk deeply at the well of Nick Cave, Townes Van Zandt, Johnny Cash, Lucero and others since his last release, he seems to have stopped trying so hard. I mean that in the best possible way. Though the EP is at times much moodier heavier than Pair of Sirens ever was, Haeck seems much more natural in his delivery, much more confident as a songwriter and this helps power the mood all the more.

The EP travels familiar Americana, Alt-Country territory, but don’t worry, that’s territory that’s often best with a dose of familiarity, like your favorite pair of worn jeans; they’ve just always been part of your life. Great music of this genre feels familiar in the best possible ways, there is an immediate connection. The twinkling pianos of “The Crow” feel right at home while the reverb soaks you in. The title track feels like family, Haeck’s warm voice floats just above the steel strings. Lyrically, the EP travels the familiar territory of being on the run, broken hearts and hope. But again, this sense of familiarity is far from a downfall.

This EP has been on repeat the past couple of days and I can’t wait for you to hear it. Highly recommended.

• Visit Matt Haeck’s Myspace page
• Download Western States from iTunes

Every once in a while I seriously contemplate stopping this blog. As some of you may know, I used to have a blog called Colossians Three Sixteen. But those malicious Jihad hackers implanted so much bad code and malware into the site that it became unrecoverable. I was faced with the choice of trying to go through thousands of files trying to weed out all the bad code, continue under the same name, deleting all the files, scrap everything and start all over or quit blogging.

I chose to scrap everything (carrying over only the interviews minus one) and start under a new blog name. To many people this was “blog suicide.” I had labored to build a brand and I was essentially walking away from that brand and starting all over. But it was a great time to reconsider why I blog in the first place. I’m not here to promote myself or “create a brand.” It has, always for me, simply been a platform to explore the many implications of the Gospel for all of life, primarily the intersection of popular culture and the Gospel.

I was also reminded of the many great people I have connected with who share my passions and I’m reminded why I keep blogging. People trying to find a deeper faith than Consumer Christianity offers. People who are gripped by the beauty and power of the Gospel and want to share that with others. One those people has been Steven Wesley Guiles. Guiles, along with his wife, have recorded the best Christmas album you need to hear under the name Friction Bailey. Guiles also performs with the band Pushstart Wagon.

For his first solo album for California label New Cool Now, Guiles probes the depths of Beatles-infused folk-pop to great effect. The theme of thankfulness weaves itself through nearly every song, from the opener, a song looking back on God’s faithfulness, “May He Keep You As You Go.” The stand-out track and most overtly thankful is “Thankful,” rising to a crescendo as Guiles lists thinks for which he is thankful, opening with the lines:

I’m thankful for the air I breathe,
I’m thankful for a steady job,
I’m thankful for this hair upon my head . . .

As the music increases in intensity, so the items for which Guiles is thankful:

I’m thankful for these steps from the bottom to the top,
and dear Lord, I have to thank you that I finally got caught,
And I know that I’ve been wasted and been worthless and unwise
And I’ve squandered my resistance and I barely felt alive
With my final breath I’ll tell you when I’ve got no time to live
I thank you for all that you give to me

The music throughout is at once wistful yet joy-filled. Simple melodies lodge themselves in your heart only to be replaced by the next. Guiles seems to be at a point in life both of retrospection but also of thankful forward-gazing. In a day and age when so much music reminds us of what’s wrong with the world, it’s incredibly refreshing to spend 30 minutes being reminded what’s right and of the God who provides and directs us all. We have much to be thankful and how that thankfulness has a soundtrack.

• Visit Steven Wesley Guiles’ official site

I’ll be honest: I don’t listen to much “Christian” music. I listen to lots of music made by Christians but not much that would be classified by most people as “Christian.” I listen to even less Christmas music. So it was a bit of hesitancy that I agreed to listen to the new project from my friend Daniel Renstrom. I really liked Renstrom’s earlier project Adore and Tremble and even blogged about it on my earlier, now defunct blog.

At eight songs, the album is split evenly between Christmas hymn-standards and originals. What’s refreshing here is that the theology of the incarnation is front and center throughout, both in the standards and originals. For example, “Come Thou Long Expected Jesus,” “Hark the Herald Angels Sing,” “Angels We Have Heard On High,” and “O Come, O Come Emmanuel.” Renstrom understands that these songs are more than simply sentimental favorites, they are theological meditations about the Person and Work of Jesus Christ, God come in the flesh and he presents them as such.

We know that he understands this because of the original material Renstrom presents. The meditation of “O Come, O Come Emmanuel” leads into the Renstrom original “Rise and Fall,” with the wonderful lyrics (also quoted in whole by my friend Steve McCoy):

The dawn of the light
Is breaking tonight
At the birth of this dangerous King

And shepherds and kings
Bow down and sing
At the birth of this dangerous King

Many will rise and fall
At the birth of this King, the birth of this King

Those who oppose
Stumble on this stone
The birth of this dangerous King

But many will hear
Believing in fear
Will hope in this dangerous King

Like Dustin Kensrue’s “This Is War,” Renstrom wants us to meditate on more than a cute baby wrapped in cloth. Jesus was that, but He was so much more and Renstrom succeeds in weaving heavy theology with adoration. He succeeds in reminding us that truth about Jesus ought to drive our hearts to Him.