Today we published our season finale of Rock That Doesn’t Roll with David Bazan of Pedro The Lion. This episode gets at one of the core reasons I wanted to make this podcast to begin with. (These reasons are my own and I don’t mean to imply that they motivate my co-host, Leah.)
For those of us who are no longer personally invested in Christian Contemporary Music, what do we do with the portion of our lives that was spent immersed in that world?
There are any number of options. We could consider it time that was wasted. We could rue the brainspace that hangs onto arcane factoids, like what other bands The Swirling Eddies were members of. We could overcompensate for seeing a DC Talk show in 1992 by seeing the exact opposite as an adult (in my case, Odd Future at the 2011 Pitchfork Music Fest seems like the exact opposite of Decent Christian Talk). We could shake our heads that fans of huge pop stars have no idea about their fave’s CCM past (Katy Perry and 21 Pilots stans, I’m looking at you).
In my experience, trying to start fresh with a new CCM-free identity is a difficult and ultimately unsatisfying endeavor. David Bazan indicated he had a similar experience after he disbanded Pedro The Lion in 2006. It’s far more productive to find a way to make your past useful to your present. And that’s the interesting technique Bazan shares with us in this episode.
Since reclaiming the name Pedro The Lion, Bazan has been using the CCM recordings he was mainlining from age 7 to 14 to unlock memories from those years of his life. Some of those results can be heard on the albums Phoenix and Havasu. Based on our interview, I would say this is Bazan’s attempt to make “hillbilly music”= while acknowledging that his “hills” (the unique cultural context in which his artistic sensibilities were formed apart from national or international monocultural trends) are CCM.
While these new Pedro The Lion albums speak for themselves as artistic achievements, unlocking memories from a distant lifetime can also help shine a light on subcultures that can curdle when left in darkness. American white evangelicals are often referred to as the “least understood” people living in America today. How does a group as politically involved and technologically adept remain so mysterious to so many of their neighbors? One way is that people who leave don’t talk about their experiences in the subculture. That has begun changing in the past few years, and I see this podcast as part of that movement.
Much of the focus of the “exvangelical” movement is shining a light on clear examples of abuses of power. I think expanding the focus to the soft power of pop culture would help to do even more to dispel the “least understood” status of white evangelicalism.
So Rock That Doesn’t Roll is my attempt to get involved and stop pretending that part of my life didn’t happen. I’d like to be the billy of my actual hills, too.
Leave us a message at (629) 777-6336.
If you want more seasons of Rock That Doesn’t Roll, you can support us on Patreon.
You can connect with us on Instagram or by commenting here.
- Andrew Gill
This episode was such a sweet ending to an entertaining and cathartic season. I’ve been sharing it far and wide. Thanks for this labor of love and for helping me put words to this struggle of integration. I listened to the rereleased beautiful letdown last month and bawled, but also felt so much gentleness and affection for that younger me that earnestly loved God and CCM. ❤️