Punk Rock Past
It’s hard to imagine someone making the leap from punk rock to worship, but that is exactly what I did. The Bible tells us that God makes all things new, and my musical taste was definitely remade after becoming a Christ-follower.
Growing up my older sister was really into bands like Journey, KISS and Rush. We were raised in a home whose soundtrack was made up of Hawaiian music, Kenny Rodgers, Neil Diamond, and the like. So my sister’s record collection was my first exposure to guitar solos and hard-hitting drums. By the time I came of age music was already influencing the dress code of my peers and I. To this very day I’m no stranger to a broken-in pair of jeans and black t-shirt. I remember being beyond excited when I was gifted my first record player from my parents. I was also given some cash so I went straight to Tower Records (yes, we had record stores back before the automobile and running water) and bought my very first albums, two Ozzy Osbourne records.
Over the course of the next few years I’d make my way through the Heavy Metal scene and the Speed Metal scene before landing in the 80’s Punk Rock scene. By then I was a runaway without a home. I had clothes, a few toiletries, my bass guitar, bass amp and all the freedoms that came with the independence of adulthood. Unfortunately I also had the responsibilities of an adult, which I had sacrificed my childhood to obtain. Each day was built on a foundation of uncertainty. A daily mystery that began the moment I opened my eyes, and wouldn’t be solved until I laid my head down that night. That’s when the mystery of where I would sleep that night would be answered. Looking back it was hospitality, plain and simple, that saw me through those years. Making the rounds from one friend’s couch to the next. Hoping beyond hope that someone would invite me to join them for dinner. Trying to find a ride from here to there. Back then the most urgent desire of mine was to make sure I would be picked up and taken to wherever my friends would be hang’n out that night. A daunting task in a pre-cell-phone era. It was all about pay-phones, pagers, or just plain walking and knocking on a door. It all seems so far away now. It’s literally a miracle that I even survived that season of my life. Actually the kid I was didn’t survive. He was lost forever.
I did, however, avoid the grave thanks to all the sci-fi I was taking in. You see, I come from a space generation. Star Wars, Star Trek, Battlestar Galactica, Flash Gordon, and more. One thing they all had in common was their defensive response to an overwhelming attack on their spaceship. On both the big screen and the small screen you can hear the ship’s captain call out in desperation, “Divert all power to the shields!” In the make-believe worlds of television and movies this always results in a measure of success, but that wasn’t the case in my story. You see, I was so desperately concerned with what others thought of me, that I diverted all my energy into keeping up the façade that all was well. I fought hard to hold any signs of weakness at bay, and bury any feelings of fear or loneliness. I put forward a tuff as nails front, as if I wasn’t phased at all by my circumstances. And I avoided any awareness that I was dependent on the kindness of others, as pride silenced my gratitude. As the captain of my ship, I diverted all of myself to putting up a defense against my greatest enemy . . . perceived weakness.
Unfortunately this left me utterly defenseless in every other area of my life. Back then my life revolved around the music. Heavy guitar riffs carried on lightening fast drum beats delivered anarchist, antisocial, rebellious, violent, and psychotic lyrics that encouraged a complete disconnect from societal norms. It was right around this time that experimentation turned to addiction . It was the perfect storm. I was under the influence of the music and the drugs, all while living in denial about the true cost of my selfish choices. It was a vicious circle and I was trapped in its center… in the pit.
The Bible says that sin is pleasurable for a season; the good is really good and the bad is not so bad. That’s how it was during these years. I loved the music, the lyrics, the scene, the community. I found myself in its rebellion and excess. The drugs only enhanced the euphoria of the experience. I was nowhere near rock bottom and the punk rock soundtrack assured me that my nonconformist ways were liberating and empowering. And my favorite band at the time, Slayer, was serving my spiritual needs as I memorized every single one of their satanic lyrics. Those lyrics became my personal truth. My secular gospel. My identity. It would take years for me to see what was really happening. The music and its lyrics weren’t defining me, they were shaping me. And there is a big difference friends.
Today I am known for saying, “music matters”. I say it all the time in the context of worship or songs inspired by our faith. You see the Bible says that the power of life and death is in the tongue. In the spoken word. Songs of faith speak life and bring with them healing, freedom, reconciliation, and hope. They bring with them our true identity… we are loved, we are accepted, we are bought with a price… we are children of God. However, the flip side of this coin is what I encountered in my youth. The music told me I was antisocial, anti-religion, anti-politics, anti-everyone, and pro-aggression, pro-drug, pro-satan, pro-violence, and that I had no place in this world, that no one would understand me or accept me outside of the scene. I was isolated within a tight circle of friends, and that circle got smaller with the onset of my addiction. The music was the perfect partner to substance abuse. It fed my insecurities about how others saw me, by confirming that everyone was against me. As the drugs fueled my isolation I was often alone with my thoughts… and the music’s lyrics were driving those thoughts. It was a vicious circle.
As I grew older and a little wiser I came to the conclusion that I must monitor what I take in. The Bible says that faith comes by hearing… the Word of God. This passage begs the question, “If faith is the result of hearing God’s word, what’s the result of hearing all this other stuff?”
Song lyrics carry every message under the sun. I encourage you to be purposeful in what you hear. Take some time to measure the music you listen to against your goals, and I promise you will see a difference in every area of life. Why? Because music matters. God bless you guys! ~ra