My Rock and Roll Life: Thoughts for Christians in the Arts
I just heard that Ozzy Osbourne is retiring. In some ways that feels like the end of an era, and it ages me greatly. I was never a big Black Sabbath fan (Ozzy’s first band for the uninformed) though I did like Iron Man, but when I heard Randy Rhodes’ iconic guitar playing on Crazy Train for the first time I was hooked. Yes, I was a big fan of 70s and 80s rock and especially heavy metal. In the course of about a five-year period, I saw somewhere between 70 and 80 rock concerts. I loved it and my parents were terrified.
Musically Sheltered
I was born in 1963. Yes, I know I’m old. My parents were too busy raising babies in those days to get really into rock and roll and all that came with it in the 60s. In many ways, their music was the 50s and I was one of those kids tormented by Lawrence Welk on the TV each week. As such in the early years of my life, I knew almost nothing of rock and roll, and what I knew seemed “bad.” Dad was a Vietnam-era soldier, and the long-haired hippies were an anathema to him. I never got into the Beatles. I remember a classmate having a book called Mick Jagger: Everybody’s Lucifer, which made me fear him. My military haircut and corrective shoes already kept me from fitting in, so Rock missed me for a while.
This Stuff Was Bad, Right?
Now to be clear, we were not a religious family, but something didn’t feel right. I saw Gene Simmons of Kiss sitting on the stage on the Mike Douglas Show, in full demon attire. I saw Alice Cooper singing on the Snoop Sisters with an eight-foot boa Constrictor around his neck. They freaked me right out, they were scary-looking. To Mom and Dad, they were just more hippies, and red flags were going off everywhere.
Opening Doors
I became more exposed to popular music by the AM radio we listened to in the mornings to see if we were having snow days and I heard more at jr. high dances. As a nerdy outcast on the fringes, those dances weren’t that much fun. I had a few friends and they were getting into some rock music. My folks got me an FM radio for Christmas one year and I started hearing more, and I liked some of what I heard. Songs were giving voice to my preteen and teenage angst.
Ch-Ch-Changes
Behind the scenes, my life was blowing up. Throughout all my life I had only one intention. I was going to go to art school to become a professional artist. When I was little, my parents heard this and patted me on the head saying, “That’s nice, now go play with your crayons.” Now as high school was grinding to a close, and that was still my intention, my parents started to panic. Before long they concluded, “No son of ours is going to starve in an attic.” With just over a year to graduation, I needed a new plan. I was convinced I’d never make a living as an artist. It was impossible, right? That all changed on May 13, 1980.
May 13, 1980
I was a 16-year-old high school junior when a few guys inexplicably invited me to go to a concert, Rush on the Permanent Waves Tour. I only knew one song, Spirit of Radio, but I was so excited to be invited to go anywhere that I plopped down my $8.50 and went. Somehow, my parents let me go. That night was transformational. I watched as three guys from Canada played songs that told stories, while images projected on a massive screen behind them. “Hey wait a minute, I thought it was impossible to make a living, but these guys are doing it and a lot of us plunked down “a lot of money” to see it.” Maybe my dream wasn’t impossible. Before long I was a rabid fan and once I went away to school, I saw most of the bands that came to town.
I Love Rock and Roll
I came to love rock and roll, but it felt like it was under attack. Al and Tipper Gore had started the PMRC (Parents Music Resource Council) and started to do warning labels on records. At the time I called PMRC “Parents Mutilating Rock for Communism.” Yes, it was my rebel without a clue phase, but I was ticked. I felt like I had finally found an identity and now it was under attack.
Just An Act?
I came to realize most of the people who were being called Satanic, people like Ozzy were really just putting on a show, and I sensed that the true struggle with this music was much like that of my parents. “Long-haired hippies playing loud music we don’t like so it must be evil.” People were on the news talking about playing rock records backwards and hearing messages from Satan. To this day, I find myself agreeing with comedian Brad Stine who said, “If you play your records backwards, you deserve to hear a message from Satan.” That being said, another change was coming.
I Became a Christian
Life was feeling pretty empty when a girl I met invited me to church. They welcomed me and answered my questions. I came to realize I needed Jesus, but something new was happening. Highway to Hell came on the radio, and singing it started to feel wrong. So many bands were singing about sex, drugs, and rock and roll and that didn’t fit my new life either. Even my favorite band Rush, not a band caught up in the satanic craze of the time, was singing a couple of songs that seemed to question the existence of God, like Roll the Bones and Freewill. I was stuck. My favorite music, the soundtrack of all those years was falling away for me, and I felt like I needed to leave it behind for a while. Thank God I had Christian bands like Stryper. They helped me through a pretty tough time.
What I Learned
Slowly I realized a few things. I didn’t need to agree with everything an artist said or did to appreciate their art. Art was art, not my identity. I still don’t like Satanic imagery in music, and even if it is just an act, there are people for whom, right or wrong. it becomes an identity. Jesus demands belief from his followers. Satan’s job seems to be made easier if people don’t believe in him, so long as they don’t come to believe in Jesus. People are free to create that stuff if they want to, but if we want to honor God, we shouldn’t consume it. I can’t in good conscience sing Highway to Hell when Jesus died to pull me off that road, and I can’t glorify what put me on that road to begin with.
That Being Said…
I still feel like the PMRC and their tactics are still not the right direction for the church. All it does is trigger the rebels without a clue like I was. Free speech is free speech. If we don’t want people to step on ours, it’s best that we not try to step on theirs. I’d rather not spend a whole bunch of time pointing to what I’m against anyway. After all, all that does is give it more press. I’d rather put my creativity to work pointing to who I’m for. So now I create for Jesus. He gave me my gift and the best thing I can do is offer it back to Him. So Ozzy, congratulations on your retirement. There’s a God who loves you. Trust Jesus.
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