I am a songwriter. The songs that I write have basically three things: rhythm (I got that), melody, and words. These come together in an unpredictable fashion and… behold: songness. But about the words.

I have received a lot of feedback over the understandableness (or lack thereof) of the words at the last two Urban Hymnal events. We like reverb. We like playing rock songs in large, cavernous, acoustically messy holy spaces. We don’t believe that the music simply serves the words, but rather that the words are a part of the music. We also labor and sweat over every syllable and how it should sound, let alone the words that those syllables are a part of. The lyrics are significant. So if you can’t understand them have you missed it? Well, I think the “it” that we’re hoping for is something so much deeper than a head-understanding of the meaning of words and phrases.

Sigur Rós comes quickly to mind. Part of Urban Hymnal’s existence is owed to a trip Zadok and I made to Austin, TX to see said band. Financially unwise. Artistically and spiritually inspirational. Both of us left the concert having felt like we had encountered God in worship through this band that sings in a made-up language--when they are not singing in Icelandic (which might as well be made up). So clearly the impact on us had nothing to do with their words… or at least our understanding the words. I was moved. I know I am not alone as many of you have said things like “I worship to Sigur Rós.” Is this what the apostle Paul meant when he spoke of “groans that words cannot express?” Would Paul like Sigur Rós?

Rock shows in cathedrals are acoustic nightmares… and we love them. But should we print the lyrics? Our fear is that everyone’s faces will be buried in a piece of paper and miss out on all the visual pieces happening around them. Or that they will be so focused on understanding the meaning of the lyrics that they’ll miss out on their soul being moved. But I want you to hear lines like “dressed as a field, fed as a bird” {Zadok} because that sticks in your mind in the best way. So I’m asking for help. Print the lyrics? Sing in Latin? Not sing at all? Groan loudly? Oh help.

I'm quite proud of the narrative and progression of our last program, something not often found in Protestant music/worship. I think they call it liturgy or something; I am so low-church it is practically gutter. Two hours before doors I was frantically ringing up my high-church friends and soliciting them for incense and other sensual miscellany, as if they keep jars of myrrh in their glove compartments. Next time perhaps.

Our hope has always been to combine elements of both high and low church, and as well, offer something found in neither such as volume. Yes, we know, this last one was loud. The music is generally of the rock genre, which is supposed to be loud so we may not be apologizing for volume anytime soon. It is oh so quiet at times too. There is something liberating about setting up a rack of amps in a cathedral. If St. James will have us, we'd love to fill that immense space with layers of synths, guitars, and strings. Also, for the Deaf, volume is required to feel the music. What a fascinating experience that must be: to see the words and ideas signed out, the pianist pounding away on his console, and to feel synchronized waves of vibrations.

As always, we'd love to hear about any other elements you think would fit the next program.