The Hymn
“Dude, you’re a Christian, right? Have you heard of Stryper?”
I became friends with a fellow student in my commercial design class in high school. The tribe of kids I hung with was listening exclusively to the likes of Depeche Mode, The Cure, New Order, Bauhaus, The Psychedelic Furs, and so on. We were the embodiment of the characters in the movie "Pretty in Pink.” We were all the Allison Reynolds (played by Ally Sheedy) character from “Breakfast Club.” This friend of mine was firmly in the column of “burnout,” what we called the kids who lived the AC/DC, Led Zeppelin lifestyle. Partiers. Black concert t-shirt wearers.
“No, I haven’t.”
“Here, listen to this.”
I put the cheap ass Sony cassette player headphones on. Stryper’s reimagination of “Battle Hyme of the Republic” began to play. And I… was immediately transported to another dimension.
Full body chills.
I will never forget that scene, and trust when I say I don’t have a lot of those vivid types of memories.
Wait–I like a metal band? How could this be?
In the summer between my junior and senior year, my parents moved from Pekin, Illinois to a town 1/3 the size and 40 minutes away called Canton. Ugh. Much love to many people there, but zero love for the culture and personality that is Canton. This is not where creative types go to thrive.
I lost touch with my high school friends. I was a complete fish out of water there, dressing like Duran Duran in the capitol of all hick towns, Canton. But the church embraced me, which is both a wonder and a sort of blessing at that time because I’d chosen to finish high school in Pekin. My new friends were exclusively church friends. Again. But it was at least better this time in some ways.
A member of the worship team had and extra guitar. He lent it to me, and like the Bryan Adam’s song, I played it ‘til my fingers bled. I somehow acquired a few Beattles cassette tapes from their early days, which was great 3 and 4 chord rock and roll to learn the basics from.
My parents took note of my passion, and that Christmas they did the unimaginable (lower, low low income class at best) and bought an acoustic guitar as my one and only gift. I played the Beattles. I played the blues and any rock and roll in the pentatonic scale. The trajectory of my life forever changed.
A musician. That’s what I want to be. Not a football player like I thought in 5th through 8th grades. Not a break dancer (super lucrative) like I thought in my freshman and part of my sophomore year.
No. I want to be a musician. I am cut out for this. I have music in me. I am music.
And all from a Christian band playing a hymn on guitars through amps that go beyond 11.
But not just any old rock and roll. I loved the idea that Stryper and similar bands were creating an intense, fist shaking vibe… but with a message. Something deeper. Something that, at that time, I believed was all that mattered. And from that point, I’ve struggled to “just play music” for fun. It’s gotta have some weight, some intention under the hood.
So began my run in Christian rock. Much more of that story to tell. ✌🏼
