I’m tired of reading mainstream rock critics who seem to have no theological bones in their bodies. They seemingly can’t recognize or articulately discuss theological issues even when the artist gives it to them on a silver platter. I could do a more thoughtful post on this another time, when I’ve let the dust of my frustration settle. Take, for instance, Kitty Empire who reviewed Patti Smith’s new album Banga in The Observer, a major English newspaper.  Ms. Empire begins her review with the “rock as religion” analogy: “People often talk about music fandom as a secular religion, one of many founded in the 20th century to replace the old church.” She cites the typical examples of this “religion”: the communal rush of the concert experience, lyrics as scripture, fans as devotees.  Where many rock gods disappoint, Ms. Empire writes, Patti Smith offers the authentic goods. She describes Smith as “one of the few figures with a firm handle on the shaman-poet imperative,” singing songs that “have always aspired to a frequency that you might call sacred.”

If a critic (Ms. Empire or any other) even took a moment to read the liner notes, it would be obvious that Patti Smith actually IS religious. Her songs are their own sort of theological commentary, and always have been. The album begins with a remarkable theological fantasy about Amerigo Vespucci ‘s voyage to the “New World” in 1497. The song begins and ends with baptismal fonts, but at the end of the song the rain has become the “font” which gives new birth to Vespucci’s explorers, now stripped of their armor and laying naked on the ground. The album ends (if you don’t count the coda, a cover of Neil Young’s 1970 prophetic ecological vision “After the Gold Rush”) with an incredible 10:19 long punk gospel tune called “Constantine’s Dream.” The song began while on an Italian tour when Ms. Smith had a bad dream–about “environmental apocalypse and a weeping Saint Francis.” She awoke and went downstairs, through the courtyard and “entered a church to say a prayer.” It was, it turned out, the Basilica of St. Francis. The song is an incredible poetic description of the long

shadow of a dream in which Constantine saw Jesus telling him, “In this sign shall you conquer,” and the sign was the sign of the cross. It is a song about creation and destruction, about art and faith, and it poses questions the song cannot itself answer. It is beyond this post to do justice to this immense and incredible song, but suffice it to say that Ms. Empire has no idea. She writes: “A wolf is usually licking someone’s toes, as one does on Constantine’s Dream, Banga‘s keynote extended raga.” A “raga” is a Sanskrit term for a particular color or mood in Indian classical music. An odd choice to make in describing such a profoundly Christian and theological song.

Enough for now, before I begin to beat down a lump of dough that never rose (because it had no yeast, apparently). What an artist like Patti Smith deserves is the kind of theological work on so-called “secular” music this blog–Rock and Theology–is meant to foster. If I have time, I’ll return to this album for more reflection, and I hope someone theologically-minded is writing a major book on Patti Smith. Her body of work deserves it, of course.  But just as importantly, the world will not make very good sense of her work without it.

Oh listener, do you understand what you are hearing?  How can I, unless someone explains it to me? Acts 8:30-31.

2 Comments »

1. 

   Fantastic post, Chris! Couldn’t agree more.

   Comment by Jeff Keuss — June 11, 2012 @ 1:09 am

2. 

   Ah, thanks for this. Her music and poetry (indeed, the narrative of her life) opens wide the sacred and sacramental doors.

   Comment by Bill Harper — June 11, 2012 @ 10:43 pm

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