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anada382
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.* O . . .. ..O .. 382 24 Jun 2001 ) ( ')
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* O o o.*..o.*..o.*..o. .net "The Christan Rock Experience" *
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* |,4- ) )-,_..;\ ( `'-' by Pavement *
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'Anada is cat-friendly..o*`
Following an abortive eight month stint in Hawai'i, I moved back to
the Mainland about a month ago. Since I arrived in Michigan with a paltry
$13, I'm temporarily staying in my Mom's apartment. I was 16 when I moved
out the first time, and we've had more than our fair share of problems. I
love her, but she and I are very different people: she's ultra-conservative
and not just Christian, but SUPER Christian; the type that goes to church 3
or 4 times a week. I, on the other hand, am atheist and liberal and
bisexual and a pot smoker and probably a lot of other things she hates. She
seems to respectfully disagree with the choices I make, and I have the same
feeling for her choices, so it's not so bad living with her, I just want out
very quickly.
Three days after I moved in, my Mom asked me if I wanted to attend a
Christian Rock concert; she'd pay my way, she said. I think I have a pretty
eclectic taste in music: Black Flag, Charlie Daniels, Sebadoh, Wagner, Miles
Davis, Madonna and 2Pac are among some of my favorites. One style of music
I've NEVER listened to, however, is the aformentioned Christian Rock. "I'm
sure there are plenty of talented Christian bands" I told myself, trying to
keep an open mind.
The day of the concert came. My Mother and I drove to her church.
The first thing that struck me was how enormous the place was -- less a
church than a sprawling complex.
After fighting the urge to sleep during the evening service, my Mom,
two of her church buddies and myself walked from the sanctuary to some sort
of dance club within the church (!!) dubbed "The Ground Floor." The Ground
Floor is a giant two-story club that easily rivals any I've ever seen: 20+
pool tables, two stages (complete with phat sound system), neon, weird
artwork on the walls, a full restaurant and yes, even a bar -- but this bar
serves juice and soda only. My Mom told me The Ground Floor was built for
$30 million; that could have been a lot of food for children in Africa.
It was almost time for the show to start. The club was filled with a
type of creature I've never seen before: the Christian Punk Rocker! One
fellow had a blue mohawk, some polyester pants with zippers all over the
them, multiple piercings and a shirt emblazoned with "Jesus loves you."
A Christian Punk band named the Dingees was the opening act and they
had absolutely no talent whatsoever. They laid down a few Green Day-ish
riffs, screamed about loving Jesus and then much to my utter joy, left the
stage 30 minutes later.
While the next act was setting up, I stepped outside to smoke a
cigarette. I was trying to be inconspicuous, but I was accosted by a pair
of 15 year old girls in matching t-shirts who told me I couldn't smoke on
church grounds. I was about to ask them who they were to tell me what I
could or couldn't do, but they quickly pointed to the logos on their
t-shirts: "The Ground Floor Security Team." It took all my willpower not to
laugh in their faces.
I thought it couldn't get any worse. It did. The main act came on
stage. Unlike the Dingees, this band (whose name escapes me) had a modicum
of competence when it came to playing their instruments. I can't say I was
enjoying it, but it was listenable. Around the middle of their set, I heard
a familiar riff: it was the opening notes of "Just What I Needed" by The
Cars. They had changed the lyrics so that "Just What I Needed" was Jesus. A
classic song was slaughtered by these Christian assholes and after that, I
was disgusted just to look at the three idiots jumping around on stage.
The show mercifully ended about an hour later. As my Mom and I drove
home, she asked me what I thought of it. I gave her a non-committal "it was
okay," then she asked if I wanted to go see another the following week. I
wanted to scream that these Christian bands pervert the good name of rock n'
roll, but because I didn't want to hurt her feelings, I told her that I'd
think about it.
I swear by Jesus and Allah and Zoroaster that I'm never, as long as I
live, going to a second Christian Rock show.
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( o.o ) (c) Anada e'zine anada382 by Pavement o
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