Monday, January 7, 2013

The Rapture of PM Dawn

I've never been one to look deeply into the subtext of pop songs. I'm more of a melody/orchestration type of person. I suppose I'm not really to blame... I did come of (musical) age in the 80s, when casual surrealism was the norm for pop lyrics. Really, listen to "Shock the Monkey" or just about anything by Duran Duran and you'll see what I mean. A song wasn't nearly as much about what it said as the atmosphere evoked. Out of this era – a time when Eddy Grant's "Electric Avenue" was near the pinnacle of politically-minded pop -- the hyper-literate lyricists of the 90s hit like a freight train. You suddenly had the pointed, unmistakable points of view of both grunge and gangsta rap dominating the airwaves, making us all aware of our neighbor's anger and angst in equal, ferocious measure.

Into the midst of this maelstrom floated PM Dawn and their ubiquitous hit "Set Adrift on Memory Bliss". Not only did it distinguish itself by basing its chorus on a sample from the lite-AM crossover hit "True" by Spandau Ballet (and layering a wash of harmonies over the already-ethereal hook of that song), but its rapped lyrics were hushed and introspective, a meditative reminiscence of a love lost. It was the last thing that should have been a big hit, but it was, making us all aware of this new facet of hip-hop. Even the band's name invoked thoughts of paradox and wonder.

If you believe that a band's first single should establish its entire mindset for listeners, then PM Dawn (comprised of Prince Be and his brother, DJ Minute Mix -- nee Attrell and Jarrett Cordes) aced their first test. You knew exactly what you were going to get from them -- New Age spiritualism, hippie-like navel gazing, and smooth listening. Most people dismissed them as such. But as time passed and PM Dawn put more singles and albums under their belt, they started moving toward something else, and this is where their story gets really interesting.

They chose to name their third album "Jesus Wept", and took a decidedly Christian bent to their musical approach. They even went as far as to use one song's subtitle to dedicate it "to the Christ Consciousness". With this collection of songs, which opens with a sound collage that includes a sample of Linus van Pelt writing a letter to the Great Pumpkin, we were introduced to a masterful exploration of two brothers grappling directly with what it means to be Christian, and even further, what it means to be human in the face of the eternal.

As if begins, Jesus Wept is something that even a non-Christian as myself can identify with. It’s no faith-affirming tribute from a reborn child of God. In fact, it turns out to be a soul-searching, humble offering from an imperfect, broken human being to a divinity that he seems to fear might reject him. In fact, the table set by "Set Adrift on Memory Bliss" wasn't that far off the mark... nearly all of PM Dawn's songs can almost be read as lost-love songs. Lines such as "Sometimes I miss you so much" and "Without you in my life, I always find my mind miles from anything" could be lifted directly from other girl-please-come-back songs, but as time goes on also work as Christian allegory. PM Dawn is strongest when they play off this dichotomy; their follow-up album, called "Dearest Christian, I'm So Very Sorry For Bringing You Here. Love, Dad" works equally well whether the father speaking is Prince Be, or God himself.

The most important track from Jesus Wept, in my mind, is the final medley, for some reason called "Fantasia's Confidential Ghetto". I think by dissecting it a little bit, you will get a pretty comprehensive idea of PM Dawn's point of view. First is a slow, acoustic guitar and piano version of Prince's "1999", a song that does deal with Judgment Day, albeit in its own funky way. In this version, Prince Be sings the melody andorned, changing the word "party" in the last line so that it reads: "So tonight I'm gonna cry like it's 1999."

Immediately following this, the beat picks up with a reworking of Talking Heads' "Once in a Lifetime", for which PM Dawn swipes the piano loop from Schoolhouse Rock's "Rufus Xavier Sasparilla" to drive it along. The lyrics of that song remain unchanged, but David Byrne's Revival-sermon-style ramblings about suddenly finding yourself as a strange in your own life and howling "My God, what have I done?" fits right in with the message we've been working with for the whole album.

The third and final part is an almost word-for-word rendition of Harry Nilsson’s goofy “Coconut”, with a notable exception that flips the original in a completely different direction. First of all, Nilsson’s simple guitar part is augmented with the organ part of Three Dog Night’s “Mama Told Me Not To Come”, which is an almost blindingly astute melodic match. The original lyrics deal with a man calling a doctor to prescribe something to help his indigestion after imbibing some lime-and-coconut-based drink. However, by changing the line “called the doctor, woke him up” to “pray to God as to wake him up”, the song becomes the story of mankind doing things they shouldn’t, and then turning to God to help them fix the problems they’ve caused. Here, God has the answer, and it’s the same as what the doctor recommended in the original: “If you call me in the morning, I’ll tell you what to do.” Certainly a persuasive argument to head to church.

The progression in this three-song medley – grief to realization to salvation -- is the path PM Dawn has been trying to lead us down all along. The clues were there, even in the title of the album itself; “Jesus wept” is well-known to trivia buffs as the shortest verse in the Bible, but it comes from the Gospel of John. It tells of Jesus’ reaction to seeing the mourning going on around the tomb of Lazarus. In those two words, the Gospel establishes the duality of Christ… He is beyond us, but at the same time of us, feeling our pain and grief. In the story, Jesus resurrects Lazarus, and I think therein lies the ultimate message of PM Dawn… No matter how vain, selfish, or damaged a person may be, God loves them and can be turned to for salvation. As deep as the self-doubt on the album can sometimes be, there is also transcendence, and it’s a more effective message than any of the praise-His-glory Christian rock or rap you could ever listen to.

No comments:

Post a Comment