by Chris Alexion, Copyright January 10, 2008, all rights reserved.
I guess I'm not quite done with the song "Believe" by The Bravery. Another great thing about Sam Endicott's lyrics is how the bridge shows up materialism for the enslaving system that it is:
I am hiding from some beast, but the beast was always here,
Watching without eyes, because the beast is just my fear
That I am just nothing–now it's just what I've become.
What am I waiting for? It's already done.
In one interview, Sam explains the band's name: "We're called The Bravery because that's the mindset I was in when I was writing the songs. Everyone in my age group wants to know what they're going to do with their lives. They all think that they're worth nothing and they're heading nowhere. People are drowning in these thoughts and I just got sick of it. I didn't want to be like that. The name is also connected with living in New York in this really weird time. People are constantly waiting for something bad to happen. I wrote these songs and formed this band to make sure I didn't get overcome by that sense of fear. That's what this band is about–standing tall and not being afraid."
The fear Endicott sees results from our flirtation with nihilism, a philosophy which holds that meaning is impossible; nothing really matters. And while it's great that a courageous few will stand against it, most people don't realize how closely related nihilism is to today's acceptable Darwinian, materialistic evolution.
"Materialism" means simply the view that nothing but matter exists–no spirit, no soul, no God or devil. Somehow, preexistent matter gave rise to life, which slowly developed into more complex living forms. Eventually we get humanity, but there's nothing particularly special about man. He's kind of smart, a good tool user. A collection of chemicals. Nothing more.
The key word is accidental. Everything happens by chance. Logically, then (not that logic means anything in a nihilistic worldview), even the thoughts in our heads would be the accidental by-products of random neuron firings. Ironically, that gives us little reason to trust the materialist's explanation of the world; as C. S. Lewis pointed out, it's like upsetting a milk jug and then expecting the shape of the spill to describe how and why the jug was upset. One person happens to think "atheistically" and another might think "theistically," but the difference is like preferring Pepsi to Coke.
In other words, if humanity is nothing more than an accidental collection of molecules resulting from some previous accidental explosion, there seems little use in trying to explain anything or make something of oneself. To use Endicott's phrase, the "beast" of fear is inescapable, because it's housed in our very worldview. The last line has a dual meaning: In one sense, Endicott points to the foolishness of waiting; There's nothing to wait for. Everything's over before it begins. The other meaning has to with Endicott's fear of being a "nothing"–he realizes that the atheistic worldview already makes us nothing anyway. It's already done.
Humanity's secret fear is that being human, in the end, really has no meaning. But as Endicott points out, living that fear only feeds the beast.
-----Posted in Music & Film Theology & Philosophy • 0 Comments • Permalink • 549 views
by Chris Alexion, Copyright January 09, 2008, all rights reserved.
In my last post I reviewed The Sun and the Moon by The Bravery, and the philosophy nerd in me can't avoid digging a little deeper into the track "Believe." Now, of course we're talking about a song, not a philosophy textbook. A song can have multiple layers of meaning, and I don't want to be the person who squeezes complex theories out of basic entertainment. Still, Endicott voices powerful doubts about modern man and shows us how empty materialism really is. While he's no Jon Foreman, Endicott is a capable lyricist: "The faces all around me, they don't smile; they just crack, / Waiting for our ship to come, but our ship's not coming back. / We do our time like pennies in a jar–what are we saving for?"
In this blog I've mentioned the "apologetics of Ecclesiastes," meaning that Solomon's cynical musings are actually a defense of biblical faith. The Preacher's rough skepticism undermines major non-Christian forms of thought, emphasizing that everything is vanity–lighter than air. As Kansas put it, "Everything is dust in the wind." Solomon's sarcastic critique would embarrass many "positive," "inspirational" Christian authors.
"Believe" does much of the same thing. Though I don't know whether Endicott writes from a biblical perspective, his words find fault with modern materialism and reveal man's need for salvation. When Solomon begins his own quest for salvation, he goes first to false saviors. He becomes thoughtful and philosophical. "I sought wisdom and knowlege," he says. "I was the wisest man you ever saw. Then I realized one tragic fact: the wise man and the foolish man both die like dogs. Vanity of vanities; all is vanity." Next Solomon devoted himself to pleasure. He didn't withold anything from himself–food or wine or sex or luxury. In the end these too were meaningless. Nor did workaholism help. "I was king in Jerusalem," he says; "I threw myself into my work. It was all emptiness and chasing the wind."
Endicott, in "Believe," finds the same emptiness, though (given the band's name) he tackles the subject from the angle of fear. "There's a smell of stale fear that's reeking from our skins; / The drinking never stops because the drinks absolve our sins / We sit and grow our roots into the floor / But what are we waiting for?" Endicott, like Solomon, dismisses both the life of philosophy and the life of pleasure, the pull of tradition and the hope of newness, as vain. Solomon describes human endeavor done "under the sun," or without reference to God, as a meaningless cycle that never goes anywhere. "Behold," he says, "there is nothing new under the sun." Similarly, Endicott points out ironically that "Something's always coming; you can hear it in the ground / It swells into the air with the rising, rising sound, / And never comes, but shakes the boards and rattles all the doors; / What are we waiting for?"
The promised newness never arrives. In fact, all of our human activities "under the sun" are pointless because we have no end–no goal. Human beings save their time and money–but what are they saving for? Endicott realizes that a central human need is going unfulfilled. In an age of the material, we need souls; in an age of fear, we need courage. In an age of cynicism, we need faith. "So give me something to believe, / 'Cause I am living just to breathe / And I need something more to keep on breathing for." Endicott realizes that his only reason for breathing is to take another pointless breath; he lives merely to continue his own existence.
We really do need something more. And getting to that point is a major goal of Christian apologetics.
Posted in Music & Film Theology & Philosophy • 3 Comments • Permalink • 3381 views
by Chris Alexion, Copyright January 06, 2008, all rights reserved.
Be sure to check out The Bravery, a modern rock/alt group that hails from New York but sounds deceptively British. They first hooked me with "Time Won't Let Me Go," a well-written single with catchy melodies from their second album, The Sun and the Moon. Their other tracks aren't far behind; the guitar work is tinged with the sounds of U2 and Switchfoot, two of my favorite bands, and frontman Sam Endicott's rhymes echo the same thoughtful veins as Bono and Jon Foreman.
The band's thoughtfulness sets it apart from most mainstream music. Endicott can't stand pop; in one interview he compares viewing typical MTV fare to listening to an air conditioner. The Bravery–maybe due in part to Endicott's degree in psychology–breaks out of these shallow musical molds and digs lyrically below life's surface. Even the band's name, says Endicott, has to do with young people standing tall when faced with today's fears of nothingness and meaninglessness.
Expect a progressive blend of guitar, drums, and electronics. The follow-up single "Believe" is every bit as good as "Time Won't Let Me Go," and "This Is Not the End" merges sad and thoughtful tones. The band isn't afraid to dig into a retro feel in "Every Word Is a Knife in My Ear" and "Tragedy Bound," while "The Ocean" and "Fistful of Sand" rely on captivating melodies.
Now, while the primary role of music is artistic, not philosophical, it's true that art always expresses a worldview, and we can benefit from Endicott here as well. Sam engages difficult questions far removed from most music, especially in tracks like "Believe" and "This Is Not the End." Endicott's lyrics venture into the spiritual; he rejects postmodern meaninglessness, crying out, "I am living just to breathe / And I need something more / To keep on breathing for." Endicott also questions pseudo-scientific materialism: "Tell me, what does it mean to exist? / I am not a scientist; I must believe in more than this, / And I will not accept that everything that's real / Is only what our eyes can see and our hands can feel."
As a rock fan fed up with much of popular music, I can welcome The Bravery's innovative sound. Maybe there's a musical (as well a spiritual) side to Endicott's claim that "Not even Earth can hold us; / Not even life controls us; / Not even the ground can keep us down."
[Note: The Sun and the Moon contains occasional strong language.]
-----Posted in Music & Film • 0 Comments • Permalink • 354 views
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