June 2006 (PDF) - Antigravity Magazine

Where is Daniel Smith? It’s raining here inBaton Rouge as I walk my dog and somewherein the Pacific Northwest, Daniel Smith and a vanfull of strange, strange people are driving about. I can see themin my mind’s eye. Smiling. Laughing maybe. Probably singing asugary little song. You may have forgotten about me, but don’tthink that I’ve forgotten about you, Daniel.Who is Daniel Smith and why do his carefree travels botherme? And why should you care? Because May 9 saw the releaseof Ships, the latest effort from Danielson, the collective headedby Smith, a.k.a. Br. Danielson. And don’t be fooled; that “Br.”stands for “Brother,” as in Christian Brother. That’s right. There’ssomething strange happening with Christian music up North.While most people associate Christian music with Godspell andpipe organs, musicians like Smith and Ships contributor SufjanStevens have been blazing a holy trail through small bars justoutside the gates of college campuses and down the pipelinesof Soulseek. Consider it bringing the gospel to the indie masses.But unlike most better-known Christian bands (and you knowwho I’m talking about so I’m not going to drag names throughthe mud), Danielson are, uh, good.Very good.So where is he? It’s May 22and I’m in Atlanta, visiting my dadand watching the Flaming Lips; I’mscheduled to talk to Daniel at 1:30pm. I scribble down questions inmy journal (shut up): “Ships is muchmore rounded and complete. Lesssugar, more substance. Why theshift?” “How complicated is it tomake noise-pop with a band smallenough to fit in one van?” “Howon Earth did you, a Christian, getalong well enough with SteveAlbini to record with him?” Iglance at my cell; 1:45. Quick callto Leo, who puts in a quick call toSecretly Canadian, Smith’s label.The interview, it seems, has beenrescheduled to Wednesday.Part of the reason that I’m soanxious to interview Daniel isbecause I myself am a Christian whois a part of the (and God knowshow much I hate this term) indiescene. In my imagination, Danieland I chat lightly about his musicbefore moving on to issues with theAmerican church, the awesomenessof grace, or good Christian bands(post-rockers Saxon Shore makemy list). I scratch in my journalabout what it must be like to be aChristian musician touring in largelynon-Christian venues, playing tomostly non-Christian people. Arethey hostile? Does the faith getattacked?Are they patronizing?Respectful? Do they even care?Faith would be no issue for you, gentle reader, if Smith’s lyricsweren’t peppered with references to his relationship with God.Despite the mile-a-minute, Unicorns-on-speed music which hisfans have come to adore, Smith’s lyrics are straight from theConfessional, more personal than the Dashboard variety. Itis this insight into the artist that gives Ships its most tendermoments, particularly when the parade stops and Smith quietlyweeps over his guitar. In “When It Comes to You I’m Lazy,”Smith’s boozy melancholic lament to the lack of vitality in hisspiritual life, mournful trombones and whirring organs transformthe squeakiness of his voice from annoying into heartfelt. It’sat these sparse, vulnerable moments that the album (and itsauthor) becomes something real; gone is the man who ate theone-pound bag of Skittles in favor of man whose spiritual lifelooks less like a bottle of Xanax.These are the sounds being choked from my Camry’s speakersas I sojourn back to 225. It strikes me now that the manicdepressivestate of the music on Ships is perfect for exactlywhat I am doing: growing up. I’m 21 years old, Christian foralmost one. Perhaps unintentionally, Danielson have capturedthat nervous spirit that life-changing events yield in a person’spsyche, from the album’s rickety title to its cover’s silver andblue stars. See, I had violent tension headaches for a while aftermy conversion which were caused by my persistent fear thatmy inability to be perfect was pissing God off. Smith capturesthis tension in the noisy final segment of “Two Sitting Ducks,”with pianos crashing against overly-dubbed vocals while thehorn section (the Holy Spirit?) wails away in pain. Of course,“Two Sitting Ducks” plays into the gorgeous “My Lion SleepsTonight,” whose twinkling bells sprinkle down like grace uponmy burning head.∞Finally back in Baton Rouge after many slow miles, I settledown again to interview Daniel Smith. “Hello?” Holy crap, hisvoice is just as nasally when he talks as when he sings! WithDictaphone rolling, and boring preliminary questions out of theway, I begin the real interview. “How hard is it to make all of thenoise on the record with a six-person band?” Allow me to makeat this point in the article a comment regarding cell phones. Yes,they’re lovely. But when you’ve been chasing down one of yourmusical idols and finally get him on the phone, the last thingthat you want is for him to drive through West Virginia, home“Perhaps unintentionally, Danielsonhave captured that nervous spiritthat life-changing events yield in aperson’s psyche...”of mountains, moonshine, and apparently not enough people towarrant a decent phone tower. “Let me call you back from atruck stop,” I pull from the static. That’s fine. I’ll be here.∞Now, for those who do not know, the most crucial tenet ofthe Christian faith is that of grace. Like I mentioned before,grace was the secret anodyne for my miserable headaches.Grace tells me that God loves me exactly the way that I am, thatI don’t have to look like everyone else in my church and that Idon’t have to watch the same movies, listen to the same bands,or vote for the same politicians. God just wants me to loveHim. Grace causes every single sin I could ever commit, fromthe theft of a car to the relatively innocuous (but still grievousagainst God) itty bitty white lie, to be completely overlookedby God. For those who put their faith in Jesus Christ, the Bibleteaches, there is no punishment for sin. Of course, the love ofGod in a person’s life should compel them not to, uh, smokecrack or anything like that, but grace exists to erase any andevery stupid thing, past and future. As Christians, Daniel andI are called to distribute this same sort of grace to the world(You remember the Our Father: “Forgive us our trespasses, aswe forgive those who trespass against us.”). Put shortly, graceis the most appealing aspect of the Christian faith when it’sworking in your favor, but when you have to dispense it, it’s notso attractive.∞A few days pass. I have yet to hear from Br. Danielson, whichwas initially a relief given the amount of work which looms overmy head, but that work includes this very interview, so I give him aring again. “The publicist didn’t get back to you? I told him to setup another interview.” Another quick call to Leo, a quick call backfrom Secretly Canadian, where I am assuredly on speed dial bynow. Sunday at 1:30. Daniel was in the Eastern Time Zone whenI last attempted to talk to him. His publicist nonchalantly tells methat Daniel will be somewhere in the Mountain Time Zone when Inext talk to him. Two days and he’s halfway across the country.∞Danielson.info, the collective’s website, details an anecdotefrom Daniel’s sixth grade band class. One fine day, a kid namedBilly left the band room only to discover upon his return that hisprized silver trumpet’s bell had been caved in. Billy immediatelyaccused Daniel, who, like any good sixth grader would, quicklydenied any wrongdoing. But thatwas 20 years ago. Daniel stateson the website, “I really do notknow if I stepped on it or not. Ifeel like I may have.” As some sortof bizarre 20-years-too-late actof penance, Smith recorded “DidI Step On Your Trumpet?” as anapology, encouraging his fans tomake amends with anyone whomthey have accidentally offended bypolitely asking, “Did I step on yourtrumpet?” The move has becomethe major marketing campaignbehind Ships, with fans writingtheir apologies on a 3x5 card andmailing them to Daniel, who in turnpersonally inserts a “Did I step onyour trumpet?” pin and mails it outto the offended.∞“Hi, this is Daniel Smith. Pleaseleave a message.” It’s Sunday, andthis is what my end of the phonegets at 1:30 pm. I try again 30minutes later. With a thousandapologies, Daniel explains that theinterviewer before me ran overtime and the group is now eating ina Cracker Barrel in North Dakotaand can he call me back when theyare done eating? Sure thing, I say.Sure thing.∞As of this writing, I have yet tointerview Daniel Smith. We havean appointment for 4:00 tomorrow,seven hours past ANTIGRAVITY’sdeadline. To his credit, every timethat I have talked to him, Danielhas been incredibly friendly and very apologetic concerning thesituation. He just forgot to call me back, and I can forgive himfor that. See, one of the hard things about being a Christian isthat people expect us to be angels on Earth. We are never tolose our temper, never to offend anyone in any way, never topass judgment. That’s a tough image to live up to. But that’s thebeauty of grace. I’ll tell you right now, I’ve sinned like 50 times inthe writing of this piece alone. I’ve lied (ooh, try to find it!), I’vecheated (I read other people’s reviews), and I’ve procrastinatedlike a bandit (sloth, frighteningly enough, is a sin). But if God’sgrace can forgive me for all of that and for implying that I mayone day steal a car, then surely I can forgive Daniel Smith forstepping on my trumpet.antigravity: your new orleans music and culture alternative_15