I don’t usually like for my music to give me directions. I was always annoyed by that worship leader who told me to lift my hands (or, even more annoying, “everybody shout to God”), as if I wasn’t worshiping unless I followed his commands. Dance music is like this too when it tells me “Slide to the left, slide to the right” and things like “freeze!” I simply hate being told what to do by music. So when I opened up the booklet for the newest Showbread album and read the words “How to read/listen to this record” I almost closed it up again. But I like Showbread. Their previous albums (Age of Reptiles, and No Sir, Nihilism is not Practical) are personal favorites of mine. So I gave them the benefit of the doubt and obeyed the directions, which read as follows:
This is not a conventional audio recording; it is the soundtrack to a story that follows…The artist recommends reading while listening to the musical accompaniment with headphones, alone in a dark, silent room with a single reading light. When a track starts to play, begin reading the corresponding chapter. When you come to a time marker, that marker will suggest approximately what time the current track clock should be when the reader arrives at that line in the story.
It is certainly unconventional in popular music, especially among Tooth & Nail artists (which often have struggled with creativity, authenticity, and uniqueness). In the modern financially driven music industry such an enterprise may seem to some like career suicide. But Showbread doesn’t play it safe. Their newest album is actually a dual release Anorexia and Nervosa. Two releases featuring two sides of the same story. The story that accompanies the album is a parable of redemption, and a gripping one at that. There aren’t many songs on the two CDs that you would want to “jam” to in the car while driving around, but by following their directions I have found a beautiful musical experience that goes well beyond that simple “car jam.” Anorexia Nervosa points its listeners to the beauty of redemption, the gospel of Jesus, and the Lamb who is Jesus Christ. They certainly do it in an unconventional way, but, after all, there isn’t much that is “conventional” about the gospel itself anyways.
The releases have garnered some criticism. The uniqueness of Anorexia Nervosa have led some to call Showbread pretentious. After all anything that smacks of intelligent composition, creativity, uncharacteristic styles and approaches to music must mean the artists are conceited and ostentatious, right? I happen to think that Showbread is doing something meaningful with their work. Maybe I am biased because I already like the band (of course some of their critics have confessed to be rather against “Christian” music), but I think this work in particular shows not only a depth and creativity that is often lacking in the music industry, but a commitment to communicating the gospel in a unique and compelling way. The dedication on the inside of the album reads: This album is dedicated to the listener. The Lamb loves you as you were, are, and will be. He longs to be with you. The commitment to the Lamb and communicating his message remains evident in their work.
There are a few occasions where, as I listen to the album, I cringe at a few of their theological constructions in the songs. Being of the Reformed theological persuasion I have particular ways and words for communicating the gospel. But I can’t help but wonder if sometimes I add so many qualifiers to the communication of the gospel that I end up confusing it. In this parable Showbread has done a good job of communicating simply, beautifully, and graphically the story of redemption. So if you’re willing to take some directions from your music Anorexia Nervosa can be a beautiful musical, and devotional experience.