I believe I can officially call myself a fan of Steinbeck at this point, no matter how pretentious that may sound. I find his prose to be beautiful and his observations of the human spirit truthful yet gracious. East of Eden showered me in a plethora of emotions, and his nonfiction road trip memoir continuously gave me the itch to write something—anything—myself. Well, here I am writing a thing.

I’ve been reflecting lately on the manner in which I consume art these days in contrast to how it used to capture and consume me. One clear example can be examined within the realm of music. I fondly remember the excitement experienced as a teenage child of discovering an unexpected, newly released CD from a band or solo artist whom I cherished suddenly sitting on a shelf in a store. I’d purchase the CD, go home, immediately place it in my bedroom CD player, and listen through the new album multiple times in a row, all the while reading along through the lyric booklet that came in the front of the disc’s jewel case. I’d listen to the album each night as I drifted off to sleep. I’d listen to it each morning as I readied myself for school. I’d dedicate multiple hours to converting the CD’s audio files to MP3s on my desktop computer, carefully adding as much metadata to each file as possible—artist name, album title, song title, release date, album artwork, lyrics, et cetera—and copying those carefully curated and organized audio files onto my little generic MP3 player so that I could listen to the album repeatedly as I mowed the lawn or rode my bike or walked around town.

Until just last year when I purchased an extremely new (used) Toyota Prius, I always had a CD in my vehicle’s CD player. One CD would stay in my car for months at a time before being replaced by another. Sadly though, my latest car, despite (or perhaps more accurately because of) its extreme modernity, has no CD player. In fact, a startling number of musicians that I’ve followed for years and even decades have stopped releasing music in the format of compact discs. It really rustles my jimmies.

This is all a direct result of the music streaming phenomenon of the past decade, which has truly been a double-edged sword. I’ve discovered so much great music because of it—music that I never would have come across without the wondrous discovery and recommendation algorithms pioneered by the Swedish miracle that is Spotify. The subscription-based music streaming platform model also provided me with a pain-free way to “try out” artists and albums at any time and in any place without the necessity of forking over the dough for a product that I didn’t know if I would even like or want. The music streaming revolution has provided me with benefits for which I will be forever grateful. I don’t believe I would be the same person I am today without all the wonderful art it has brought my way.

But, most unfortunately, it has also formed me into so much more of a consumeristic and ADHD listener of music. When all I had were MP3 and CD players, I would savor a single album for months; now I blaze through what seems like a new album every other week. It seems that, in the world of streaming having made the process of releasing and distributing music much simpler and faster than it ever was before 2010, the average person has been left drowning in an endless sea of content. Too much of a good thing . . . has caused me to unconsciously devalue each great thing. I am becoming convinced that I am actually doing a disservice to the artists I admire by consuming so much of their art that I end up reducing it to mere content rather than savoring a healthy portion of it and allowing it to remain something set apart and important. Perhaps I should look into what it would take to have a CD player installed in my new (used) car. It would probably be quite a hassle and cost a pretty penny.

But the cost of not doing so may be greater.

Anyway, I haven’t written much of anything in a long time, but that doesn’t mean that I haven’t been thinking. I finished reading John Steinbeck’s The Grapes of Wrath for the first time in June of last year. It is the first classic work of literature that has ever really spoken to me. I teared up quite a few times when reading it. There’s a part where a former preacher says the following:

“I ain’t gonna baptize. I’m gonna work in the fiel’s, in the green fiel’s, an’ I’m gonna be near to folks. I ain’t gonna try to teach ‘em nothin’. I’m gonna try to learn. Gonna learn why the folks walks in the grass, gonna hear ‘em talk, gonna hear ‘em sing. Gonna listen to kids eatin’ mush. Gonna hear husban’ an’ wife a-poundin’ the mattress in the night. Gonna eat with ‘em an’ learn. . . . Gonna lay in the grass, open an’ honest with anybody that’ll have me. Gonna cuss an’ swear an’ hear the poetry of folks talkin’. All that’s holy, all that’s what I didn’ understan’. All them things is the good things.”

That little paragraph is a fairly decent summary of the journey that my heart and mind have been on for the past few years, and to see it written out like that (and coming from the mouth of a preacher, no less) just worked something inside of me. I love the humanity that Steinbeck put into this book, and I’m excited to read more from him! But I took a temporary break from Steinbeck and am now ninety percent of the way through Dostoevsky’s The Brothers Karamazov. And it’s like every little thing I found beautiful in The Grapes of Wrath has been cranked “up to eleven.” I mean, just wow. What an incredible work of art.

Reading these two books in particular has left me considering my history with classic works of literature. Of course, we were assigned several to read in high school, but my dogmatic and protective Christian school environment did not allow for anything of too much substance. At least, that’s how I see it in this moment. There’s no way Faith Christian School of Lafayette, Indiana, would have let us read The Grapes of Wrath or The Brothers Karamazov. They include cuss words, mention things related to sex and the human body, so clearly display the depravity of man, and, worst of all, feature religious beliefs that differ from the traditional reformed protestant evangelical ones. But the irony is that these books also display the beauty of love, faith, and hope more than any other I’ve encountered. A part of me feels cheated by having had my literary education so censored. Then again, I don’t think these books and their themes would have meant much of anything to me before I had had a chance to truly live life for a bit. Perhaps the classics just can’t be fully appreciated without first experiencing the pain of the outside adult world. With that in mind, perhaps I wasn’t so much cheated by the censoring of “truly meaningful” works as I was misled by being naively handed works that wouldn’t reveal their meaning to me yet at the age I was when they were assigned to me. Perhaps there is a danger in forcing children to read the classics if it mostly serves as a turn-off to them in the future. It certainly did to me, but I’m glad I’ve started giving them a chance. They truly are classics for a reason. When I was younger, I almost thought that books were given that moniker arbitrarily. How unintentionally post-modern of me!

I was planning on writing more, but my wife just walked in after a hard day’s work. I should probably put this down, give her a kiss, eat dinner, and enjoy the next hour we have before it’s time to go to bed. What a gift it is to be able to kiss and eat and sleep. Life is such a wondrous thing. I think I’ll end this article with one of my favorite quotes from the late comedian, Norm Macdonald:

“It’s the greatest gig in the world, being alive. You get to eat at Denny’s, wear a hat, whatever you wanna do.”

“Taylor used to sing about mean girls. Now, she’s become one.” Seventeen Magazine posted an online article on Saturday saying just that. The article made an argument I am hearing and reading over and over from literally hundreds of people that says Taylor Swift, with the release of her new single, has basically become a mean, petty, and querulous person who no longer deserves any of the respect she may once have had. But has she really walked that far away from what she has always stood for or represented? I think a great place to begin in the search for an answer to that question is with the lyrics of the song so many are complaining about.

I don’t like your little games
Don’t like your tilted stage
The role you made me play
Of the fool; no, I don’t like you
I don’t like your perfect crime
How you laugh when you lie
You said the gun was mine
Isn’t cool; no, I don’t like you

So let’s take a look at that first verse. It’s pretty simple and clearcut. A person or multiple persons have spoken lies and made false accusations against Taylor, and she doesn’t like them because of it. That seems fair. We all have had people we didn’t like because of the nasty ways they have treated us, and there isn’t anything wrong with not liking them for such a reason. In fact, this first verse seems to echo the very song Seventeen Magazine references as an example of “the Taylor [we] used to know,” which goes like this:

You, with your words like knives
And swords and weapons that you use against me
You have knocked me off my feet again
Got me feeling like I’m nothing
You, with your voice like nails
On a chalk board, calling me out when I’m wounded
You, picking on the weaker man

All you are is mean and a liar and pathetic
And alone in life and mean and mean and mean and mean

So far, Taylor’s new single seems to be keeping with the same spirit of her previous persona. But before we advance to further portions of the song, let’s throw in some historical and situational context to explain what it is even speaking about in the first place. For pretty much her entire career, Taylor Swift has been ridiculed and called a whore by many for her numerous songs about new and broken relationships, but she kept shrugging it all off and continued creating her art regardless of what others thought. For over a decade, she ignored the name-calling, which garnered her more and more new fans who respected her rare patience and civility.

In 2009, she won an award for one of her music videos and was interrupted mid-speech by Kanye West, who proceeded to complain that she didn’t deserve the award. The president of the United States actually called him a “jackass” for it, while Taylor herself showed remarkable humility in the situation and let Kanye’s behavior slide. But in 2016, things escalated. Kanye released a new album, on which he says:

For all my Southside niggas who will know me best
I feel like me and Taylor might still have sex
Why, I made that bitch famous
God damn, I made that bitch famous

This is where things become convoluted. Taylor then came out and said that she didn’t appreciate being disrespected and called a bitch, and Kim Kardashian, Kanye’s wife, responded by providing sloppily cut-together footage of Taylor approving, over a phone call, of Kanye’s line about him wanting to having sex with her. Taylor then proceeded to clarify what Kim’s horribly recorded video displayed—that she approved of one line and was not given the following two lines or even the context of the song at all. She had approved of what she thought was a sort of compliment and not of being called a bitch and being so heavily disrespected and put down. Yet, despite Taylor’s clarifications and rational explanation of how taking offense from Kanye’s song was not hypocritical of her, Kim Kardashian proceeded to publicly call her a “snake.” She even encouraged thousands of fans to spam Taylor on social media with snake emojis to reinforce her name-calling.

Now that we have a contextual understanding of what events inspired the first verse of Taylor Swift’s new single, let’s continue delving into the song to see if the claims made by Seventeen Magazine and countless others as to Swift straying from civility are true. Remember that, so far, all she has said is that she doesn’t like certain persons for having lied about her and tried to soil her reputation (which just so happens to be the title of her upcoming album). Alrighty, it’s pre-chorus time.

But I got smarter
I got harder in the nick of time
Honey, I rose up from the dead
I do it all the time
I’ve got a list of names
And yours is in red, underlined
I check it once; then I check it twice

After ten years of ignoring the various assaults on her character, she has finally reached the point where she is fed up and has decided to stand up for herself. Hence, the first three lines. And of all the thousands of individuals who have criticized her, there are just a few who have managed to crawl under her skin as of late, as can be seen from the fifth and sixth lines. The way they have treated her has made it difficult for her to ignore—thinking about it over and over.

Then the chorus comes, and it’s just one repeated sentence: “Look what you made me do.” But what is that she did? She called them out. She wrote a song about how she feels, rather than continuing to bottle it up inside. She did what artists are typically respected for doing—being genuine and authentic about their feelings, their struggles, their imperfections, and stories. As author Anne Lamott wrote, “You own everything that happened to you. Tell your stories. If people wanted you to write warmly about them, they should have behaved better.”

The following verse does, admittedly, get darker, though. It displays Taylor’s desire for justice with overtones of thoughts of revenge.

The world moves on, another day
Another drama, drama
But not for me, not for me
All I think about is karma
And then the world moves on
But one thing’s for sure
Maybe I got mine
But you’ll all get yours

Yikes. Now I see why those who once looked up to her are now upset. The girl who used to be patient and calm is now talking about wanting vengeance. But my question is this: Who doesn’t want vengeance for the nastiness done to them by others? It’s something every single person has struggled with at least once in their life. Heck, even the Bible features songs written by David (who was known as “a man after [God’s] own heart”) about how he wanted vengeance upon those who persecuted him.

The article goes even further, though, by stating that, even if Taylor’s feelings were justified, she took too long to present them. “The track is synth-and-bass-heavy and should be the recipe for yet another hit, but its lyrics showcase age-old bruises that should’ve already healed. . . . Digging up month-old drama is utterly useless.” But since when has grief had a designated time limit? Not to mention most songs and albums that artists write about their struggles are not even released until a year or two or three after the events occurred. Experiencing, writing, and recording make up a process that tends to take a lot of time. As Geri, the toy cleaner from Toy Story 2, said, “You can’t rush art.”

So, from a lyrical standpoint, I would argue that Taylor Swift’s new single, Look What You Made Me Do, is a work of authenticity that is both personally specific and widely relatable. I would also argue that it does not contradict her heretofore seen character of civility; being honest about one’s feelings and calling someone out for their actions are not the same as attacking that person.

Now, I haven’t yet mentioned a single thing about the actual musical merit of Look What You Made Me Do, which also has received a lot of backlash. That’s because I’m a firm believer in the fact that different people have different stylistic tastes and that one person’s preferences can actually change as his or her life goes on. One genre of music is not inherently better than any other. We all enjoy what we enjoy, whether it’s a certain food, clothing material, color scheme, or musical genre. If I’m being completely honest, I don’t particularly enjoy the sound of Taylor Swift’s new song. But that doesn’t matter. She has had other songs that I don’t care for musically such as I Knew You Were Trouble, yet I still love her albums as a whole and respect her as an artist.

And in the end, it doesn’t matter if I enjoy her music or not. It’s hers. It’s not yours, and it’s not mine. So let’s just sit back, relax, and listen to her stories—or don’t.

“I’d rather hear a thousand ‘fucks’ than one insincere ‘Jesus.’” We, as Christians, focus too much on the words we do and don’t say. We grow up being taught that cussing is sinful—that somehow random arrangements of letters are an abomination. We are offended when nonbelievers cuss and absolutely appalled when followers of Christ do the same. This condemnation of cussing is one of modern-day Christianity’s greatest hypocrisies. Some will consider me a heretic for writing this blog post, and some will even doubt whether or not I truly am a follower of Christ, but let me assure you—Jesus saved my ass, and I love Him with all my heart.

A main reason Christians claim that cussing is sinful is simply that the Bible “says so.” This couldn’t be more wrong. Cussing is never mentioned a single time in Scripture. Now, I’m sure a few of you are scoffing at me from behind those computer screens, tablets, and smart phones, thinking of Romans 12:14, which says, “bless and do not curse.” But cussing and cursing are not one and the same. Cursing, according to the Catholic Encyclopedia, is “a mere petition that calamity may be visited by God on persons or things in requital for wrongdoing.” In Genesis 3:14, God curses the serpent, but I am sure none of us think that means he told Satan to “fuck off.” In Mark 11:14, Jesus curses the barren fig tree, but I am sure nobody reading this believes that means he walked up to it and said, “You selfish bastard, why do you not have any fruit?” Another Bible verse often referenced in order to condemn the use of cuss words is Colossians 3:8, which says to “rid yourselves of all such things as these: anger, rage, malice, slander, and filthy language from your lips.” That seems pretty cut and dry, right? Even still, this has nothing to do with what we call “cussing.” Though many cuss words originated with filthy meanings ranging from defecation to fornication, meanings change; not only do the definitions of words change over a span of years, but in just a matter of seconds we can change what we mean by those very same words. For instance, a person could be sitting on the beach in the Caribbean, watching the sunset, and just sigh and exclaim, “Damn!” Though the definition of “damn” is to condemn someone to eternal punishment in Hell, this person uses the term to say, “Wow! Isn’t God amazing?”

You see, words are just words; they are sounds we make and are no different from snapping our fingers or clapping our hands. If any word at all were sinful, God would have told us specifically that it were so. For “All Scripture is…profitable for teaching…so that the man of God may be…equipped for every good work.” But never once does God’s Word mention the shunning of specific words; rather, He focuses on our hearts. This is extreme; this means that one person can say with sincerity, “Hell, yeah! I love you so damn much!” and show God’s love, honoring Him, while another person can mumble, “I love you,” when he is harboring hatred or resentment for that person, breaking God’s heart. Our motives, our meanings for the words we say are what matter—the point we are trying to get across—not the vibrations made deep in our throats.

Of course, even after recognizing that words are just tools and are not sinful in and of themselves, followers of Christ still have reservations when it comes to using cuss words. In a Facebook comment debate I have recently been participating in—I know, how cliché of me—my friend lovingly said:

Let me put it this way, in perhaps another way of thinking about the subject of swearing.

Swearing is like the imbibing of alcohol. The Bible directly addresses drinking alcohol. Jesus himself turns water into wine, so how in the world could wine be a sin? Wine is not a sin, just as the swear word is not a sin. Wine is simply a transport for sin. So also is cussing a transport for sin. Does drinking a little bit of alcohol mean you are sinning? Not in the least. Does saying a few swear words mean you are sinning? Not at all. Yes, as you’re saying, the purpose behind the word changes whether it is sinful, just as the purpose behind drinking changes whether that is sinful.

But now think of this - Drinking can lead to sinful actions. A little bit of drinking can cause you to drink more which would cause you to become drunk. So, I would like to state that swearing should be viewed the exact same way as drinking. You can use your swear words as you wish, but that only makes it ever-easier for Satan to take ahold of that action and twist it and turn it into sin. Do you agree that this is true? So, I argue that swearing and drinking are both actions that Christians should avoid completely. If I let myself begin swearing, I know that I will stop viewing the words as actually meaningful and begin using them whenever I wish to and to whomever I wish to, and at that point, we destroy that image of Christ and we sin by leading others AWAY from Christ.

Does that help explain what it is we are talking about at all? I will state it again, swearing is not a sin, but it too easily leads to sin and/or besmudging of Christ’s image. So… With that being said, please answer these questions. Why should we even partake in swearing as Christians? If it can LEAD to sin, then should we not just avoid what society views as cursing and instead use what is acceptable to all?

In a separate piece of the debate, he also gave an example of how refraining from the use of cuss words has helped him to share the Gospel with nonbelievers:

I can’t tell you how many times I’ve gotten strange looks for saying ‘fart ball-buster,’ and not just because that’s a weird phrase. I’ve been asked multiple times, “Why don’t you swear? I dare you to say the f-bomb. Go on, say it! Why won’t you say it?” And to all of these, I can then respond, “Because I don’t believe there’s any reason to say such things. It goes against my beliefs.” From that instant, from simply not swearing, I have opened doors.

“If it can LEAD to sin, then should we not just avoid [it]?” I have two separate responses I could give to this question.

My first response is as follows:
This is quite an honorable lifestyle that my friend proposes. Any follower of Christ who avoids what can LEAD to sin surely deserves some respect. I understand what he is saying—that it is WISE to stay away from what COULD “cause you to stumble.” This is pulled directly from Scripture, from the Sermon on the Mount (Matthew 5:29-30). However, if one is to fully follow this passage, it applies to so much more than just words that can be offensive. This passage is radical, extreme. In a world where every single thing is plagued with sin, in order to avoid all that could LEAD to sin, it follows logically that one must avoid nearly everything. So allow me to explain: If you avoid certain words because using them could LEAD to sin, you also should avoid watching movies, listening to music, reading books, etc. that use those words, as they undoubtedly influence your attitude and skew your heart and mind at least a little bit and LEAD to sin; any movie, television show, or any form of entertainment that features immodest women or sexual content or violence should be avoided, because watching them could LEAD to sins such as lust, violent behavior, etc. If one lives this radical amputation lifestyle, he should avoid contact with people who condone any sort of these sinful things, as they also undoubtedly influence his attitude and skew his heart and mind at least a little bit and LEAD to sin. There are people who truly do seek to live this lifestyle, however impossible it may sound to fulfill such a goal; they are called monks, nuns, and hermits. They live away from all the various things that could LEAD to sin in order to remain pure like their Father has commanded of them. However, God commands us also (as seen in Romans 12) to be “in the world, not of the world” meaning that avoiding the world and moving away and secluding ourselves like monks, nuns, and hermits is actually sinful. With this in mind, when one then looks back to the passage in Matthew 5 that speaks of removing from you what “causes you to stumble,” it is not referring to every single thing that COULD influence you, but every single thing that DOES influence you. So allow me to explain: Though you can not get drunk (which is sinful) without drinking (which is not sinful), you do not need to avoid drinking in order to not become drunk if you personally do not struggle with drinking too much. Now, if a follower of Christ used to be a drunk and knows he struggles with controlling how much he drinks, then HE should avoid drinking. We all are different, with different desires and different struggles. This passage is not a general one, but a personal one—we should avoid what causes US personally to sin. To be “in the world, not of the world” is to live responsibly, avoiding what may cause us personally to sin and using what does not in a manner that is purposeful and thus gives glory to a purposeful God. In addition, however, to considering what causes us personally to stumble in sin, God commands us in Philippians to not cause our brothers in Christ to stumble either—if you can drink reasonably, but you know your friend struggles with drinking too much, then you should refrain from drinking around him. In regards to cuss words, this means that if saying them does not personally lead you into sin, but your friend struggles with saying kind things to others, you should not use them around him; while if you are with a friend who, like you, also does not struggle with his words, it is not only not sinful to use them in a purposeful manner around him, but it also even glorifies God in showing how those words which can be used for evil are redeemed and used for good.

My second response is as follows:
Just as in how my friend has been able to witness to nonbelievers because they ask him why he does not say certain words, I also have been able to witness to nonbelievers because they see me as not being “holier than thou” and as being down-to-earth when I say certain words. Words are words, and they can be used to tear down, but they also can be used to build up. Once again, in my experience, I have been able to imitate and thus glorify God by redeeming certain words and using them to build bridges with which to show His love with those with hearts hardened toward legalistic Jesus-lovers.

In summation, it is not sinful to say cuss words; however, there are many factors in determining whether or not you should say them. We all have different beliefs and a wide range of convictions; what is centrally important is to place your focus—both in refraining from and in using cuss words and in every other disagreement among followers of Christ—on glorifying God, building His kingdom, immitating Him.

In an interview with Tyler Joseph, the lead singer of the band Twenty One Pilots, Jon Medina of Sound Scene Press asked what the band’s logo stands for. In response, Tyler said:

“It means Twenty One Pilots—the logo does. Why it means Twenty One Pilots is—it really goes along with one of our songs called Kitchen Sink. The whole concept of that song is that I feel that humans are always struggling all the time when it comes to purpose, trying to figure out what their purpose is, what purpose even is, what’s the point, justifying your own existence. A lot of kids and people my age struggle with ‘what’s the point,’ and with the logo—what it really means is—it’s an encouragement. When someone asks me what the logo means to me, the logo means something to me because I made it mean something to me. That’s the point. The point is that I created something that only I understand, and whether or not I decide to disclose the meaning of it, that’s the beginning of purpose for me. The meaning of purpose for me is by creating something—if it be by writing lyrics, painting a picture, by expressing yourself through art, if it’s photography or music or theater, or whatever it is. It doesn’t have to be artistic, but if you create something and only you know the meaning of it, that’s the beginning of purpose for you. When you’re in the room by yourself trying to decide whether to stay alive, you can tell yourself, ‘I should probably stay alive because I’m the only one who knows the meaning of that thing.’ So the logo is an encouragement for people to create. That’s what it means.”

To me, the meaning of this logo goes even deeper—it is an encouragement and a reminder to be an immitator of my Creator. It is a reminder that, like Him, I should always build up and never tear down; every action I carry out must be purposeful, just as my Creator never allows a single second of time to pass in vain. It is a reminder of who I am and of who I should strive to be. Numerous times each day, I see Tyler’s symbol on my wrist and have to stop whatever I am doing to ask my Creator to help me be like Him—to create and not destroy, to help me be purposeful in every little thing I do with the sole intent of bringing Him glory (as is spoken of in I Corinthians 10:31)—and to continue to use the mark on my skin in the same way repeatedly for the rest of my life here on earth. This symbol on my wrist, however, does not only serve as an encouragement and reminder to myself, but it also is a branding on my flesh and my heart as a benefit to those who come into contact with me—just as livestock and even slaves have been given marks to display the identity of their master to those around them. I have this symbol placed on the underside of my right wrist for the explicit purpose of allowing me to explain who my Master and loving Creator is to anyone who shakes my hand. The sole purpose of my newly acquired tattoo is to bring my Creator glory, and no decision with such a purpose should ever be thought a foolish one.

I am by no means one to be considered “qualified” for the writing of any sort of review; I am just a normal person—a kid between high school and college. However, I have been listening to Relient K faithfully since the very beginning, when the only title they could think of for their first full-length album was simply their own band’s moniker. So the fact that I have been listening to Matt and Matt’s music since I began to learn to write my name is enough to allow me to merely explain my thoughts behind their newly-released album Collapsible Lung. Also, before I begin, I would like to make clear that to call any music other than that which you create yourself “bad,” “awful,” or any other term of the sort is extremely bigoted; music is an art, and if one accomplishes what he or she has envisioned in their music—no matter what others may think—they have achieved success and have created something good. Others are allowed, of course, not to like it, but that does not make it bad. With this in mind, whether or not I, you, or others like Relient K’s newest album, if the band members themselves like it and have accomplished with it what they sought to accomplish, it is a good and complete work of art.

I had looked forward expectantly to a new original album from Relient K ever since their incredibly beautiful, heartfelt Forget and Not Slow Down, which was released in 2009. When I saw a Facebook post from Matthew Hoopes one day in 2013 speaking of a new album entitled Collapsible Lung, I was overly excited; I was excpecting another incredibly beautiful, heartfelt album—a Forget and Not Slow Down: Part II of sorts.

After listening to the new album yesterday, I was sorely disappointed and quite distraught. This isn’t Relient K, I thought. I thought this and even said it aloud not because of the dramatic change in musical style from punk and alternative to pop—for Relient K has always been known to change their musical sound between albums, within albums, and even within individual songs—but because of the lyrics. It is true that they seem watered down and hardly creative compared with the usual Thiessen standard, but this also is not what left me distraught (though, truth be told, slightly disappointed). What bothered me greatly, upset me, even angered me was the worldliness, the lack of eternal value, the lack of a focus on Christ which had been in all the rest of their songwriting for over a decade. Not only did the creativity and poetic quality of the lyrics seem watered down, but the meaning and underlying message seemed utterly drowned. Instead of songs like Wake Up Call, Those Words Are Not Enough, For the Moments I Feel Faint, What Have You Been Doing Lately?, My Way or the Highway…, Failure to Excommunicate, Less Is More, I Am Understood?, Getting Into You, Be My Escape, I So Hate Consequences, More than Useless, Who I Am Hates Who I’ve Been, Life After Death & Taxes (Failure II), When I Go Down, I Need You, Forgiven, Give Until There’s Nothing Left, Deathbed, and their Christmas songs, Collapsible Lung boasts such shallow themes as sex, one-night-stands, habitual drinking, meeting girls in bars, and more. In fact, I had never before had to worry about those around me hearing the lyrics of my music when listening to Relient K, but yesterday, while mopping the gymnasium floor at work and blasting the new album over the large speakers mounted to the ceiling, Thiessen sang the line, “Baby, you look so sexy” and caused a group of children to begin laughing heartily and their respective parents to begin glaring at me scarily. I was, in all honesty, extremely hurt and felt terribly betrayed; I had looked up to Matt Thiessen my whole life as the ideal man I wanted to be and, in fact, had even posted a photo of him as my “Mancrush Monday” on Instagram just a week prior. In my hurt, disappointed, and distraught state, I posted to Instagram, Facebook, and Twitter and had many people show that they shared my very opinion and also felt just as betrayed.

Out of a sense of denial and a stubborn desperation, I kept Collapsible Lung playing on repeat for eight straight hours. Over and over again it would play, jumping from track to track like a seemingly drunken train with no true final destination. As said by Cortney Warner of Jesus Freak Hideout, the album felt “almost too inconsistent, and at times it [could] feel more like a B-side album rather than a collective LP.” The tracks seemed to have no flow and were broken and disjointed. The album was not the Forget and Not Slow Down: Part II I had been wishing for. Then, on the final track, after hearing the album play over and over again for hours without end, something clicked and everything came together for me as if I had been trying in vain to put together a puzzle without sorting the pieces into piles based upon the similar colors printed on their front. I began to sort the songs on Relient K’s new album in the same manner, and all but one track were together in the same metaphorical pile—the final track. Suddenly, everything made sense. The album was entitled Collapsible Lung for a very important reason—the very same reason the final track was in a different pile than all the previous tracks and was given the very same title as the album itself. All the songs before Collapsible Lung were actually meant to sound empty, shallow, watered down, broken, and disjointed, and that is what, ironically, makes them all flow together and lead into the final track—the true underlying message of the entire album. Four years ago, Forget and Not Slow Down was released; it was a concept album entirely about the terrible experience Matt Thiessen had when his fiancée left him. He poured his heart into the album and it was and is a beautiful, heartfelt masterpiece. Somewhere in those four years after its release, “between the miles of open road,” Matt sings on the final track of Collapsible Lung that he “lost sight of what might matter the most” and “stumbled into the great unknown.” The first ten tracks on the album display where he began to look for comfort and satisfaction after his engagement had been terribly brought to an end and also show the emptiness and brokenness in looking to such things rather than to the loving Father he had looked to for many years before. Track eleven, Collapsible Lung, is Matt’s confession—his plea to the Holy Ghost, from whom he “hope[s] [he] ha[s]n’t heard the last words.” In the end, I had gone from being utterly ashamed of Relient K’s new album to being absolutely astounded by its blatant, brutal honesty and sincere beauty. In fact, it may quite honestly rank with its predecessor as my favorite of all Relient K albums. Collapsible Lung truly is the Forget and Not Slow Down: Part II I had been longing for—not only musically, but lyrically and in meaning and purpose.