Did you ever wish that Credence Clearwater Revival had driven past midnight clear to Detroit and made a Swamp-rock Motown Christmas album? Of course you did—and your prayers have been answered.
Today, we could talk about a global pandemic or racism or why a virus doesn’t care how you vote or why there’s a shortage of cold brew tea(!), but instead, let’s talk about the most pressing issue of the day.
More specifically, bad worship music.
Some of you think that’s redundant. Why do you think so? Because there’s a lot of it. Why do you suppose that is? To examine that, let’s re-visit a movie from the last year of the 80’s. The movie is set in the most unlikely of places, a poetry classroom at an all-boy’s school.
A thirty-three year old song popped up on my playlist yesterday. In the range of music I listen to, that’s about middle-aged. (I go as far back as Sinatra, who actually came up as I was writing this, and as far forward as last week.) This song’s pretty special, though, so I thought it was worth talking about.
(Much has been written in the last couple of days, all of it better than what you’ll find here. But when a queen dies, you have to weigh in on her passing.)
Fantastic essay this morning on Elvis (not Costello), forgiveness, music, and probably a couple of things I’ve forgotten already. Stop reading this until you’ve read that. (The Morning News website is behind a paywall, but they offer some number of free articles every month, so everyone should be able to read it.)