In a few recent conversations with editors and freelance writers involved in the Christian music scene about the new Plumb album, Blink, I’ve noticed a marked disinterest. Plumb is a creative, provocative artist, and her albums tend to engage listeners easily. And of course, she knows how to sell records as well. So I was a bit surprised at this response to her new album.

The hesitancy lies in Blink’s theme. Plumb’s seventh full-length project was carved out in between the nap times of her two sons, Solomon Fury, almost 2 and a half, and Oliver Canon, 9 months. She is gloriously home-centered, reveling with great pleasure in her new family life, and the new album reflects that in a big way. And yes, it isn’t the rocker we’ve come to expect from Plumb; it is, in fact, decidedly mellow. I wouldn’t go so far as to say it includes lullabies, but there are songs written as sleep-inducing blessings for children, yes. And this newfound tranquility seems to be the recurring complaint.

It is the trap of the popular artist: audiences want their favorite bands to continue to kick out the same products they first appreciated, over… and over… and over. But the reality is that people, even artists, grow and change their perspectives and even their own styles. Certainly personal circumstances change and their art will reflect that, if it’s honest and reflective. Plumb is blissfully married, delights deeply in her children, and even enjoys making a home for her family. Should she keep it to herself? Seeing as this is the personal dream of many listeners, I would think her current project would be of special interest, rather than being discounted out of hand as too ‘mellow.’ And being at home has not lessened her musical chops at all, as the new album attests markedly. She continues to write for other artists as well, her skills madly percolating in the midst of all this familial harmony.

I guess my question is this: is there not a place for an album of musical excellence that celebrates the beauty of family life done well? You would think so.

I’m excited about this week’s iTunes Discovery Download. As you might have noticed in our news section, Sara Groves’ “When The Saints” was this week’s choice for a free download. As mentioned in the news item, it is relatively unusual for an artist from the Christian community to be selected; it tends to happen only a few times a year. What is noteworthy is that the site tends to often select not necessarily the best selling artist or project, but an artist with either significant crossover appeal, or a momentous message. The latter is definitely the case with the selection of Groves’ “When The Saints.”

Sara Groves is one of many who have experienced a life-altering encounter with God through the instrument of The International Justice Mission, a human rights organization focused on the rescue of victims of abuse and enslavement, as well as following up on the accountability of their perpetrators. In fact, they see their work of rekindling the social engagement of evangelical Christians as a vital secondary aspect of their mission. I am grateful for their calling and their faithful response to it; whatever it takes to wake the giant so long asleep.

Groves has, in turn, taken up the call herself and given her own awakening over to a glorious alchemy. Challenged deeply within by all that she saw and learned on her trip to Rwanda and Southeast Asia with IJM founder Gary Haugen, she spun those soul-shakings into the songs of her new album, Tell Me What You Know. “When The Saints” is just one of numerous tracks on the album that lovingly, patiently challenges us to take up the cause of the poor, the cause of Christ. The tone is not one of finger-wagging, but of graciousness, and I believe this has everything to do with its selection by the iTunes people. My prayer now is that it will be downloaded heavily, not just onto our iPods but deep into our hearts.

I had a conversation recently with a popular artist who has for years been consciously and faithfully finding ways to use her art to stir and propel listeners toward good. Over the years she has come to be well respected for her spiritual perspective, always a deeply meaningful facet of her music. In other words, she seemed like she had it pretty together to most of us. And she did.

But in the course of our conversation she spoke repeatedly about “waking up” and “crawling out from under her rock.” She used these phrases in referencing her awakening to social justice issues, a phrase which in itself has become the new buzzword of the day. But her usage was anything but self-aggrandizing.

The conversation was interesting because, although we were discussing the horrors of human trafficking, the tone was never anything but hopeful. A current of excitement buzzed through our discussion because we weren’t describing our emotions or an event but rather a move of God. She shared with me the story of her process, her journey toward awareness of the calling and the possibilities that awaited her, patiently, lovingly. And it rang very true to my own spirit, as I have been discovering my own inner Rip Van Winkle. In fact, it seems to me that a generation of believers have been slowly stretching, rubbing the sleep out of their eyes, and looking for places to put their hands and feet to Christ’s work. Maybe it began with the Tsunami in Indonesia, or Katrina on our own shores, but whatever the impetus, it seems like the sleeping giant may be finally stirring.

How wonderful, how refreshing to catch a hint of hope in the air! The Lord uses whomever He likes, as the whole earth is His and all who inhabit it. But it is especially sweet to me to watch him use members of the musical community, and only convinces me more deeply of the inherent spiritual seeds within artistic expression.

I’m not one of those grumps who grouses and rants against modern technology, not at all. Actually, I get a perverse thrill from conquering new techno-challenges, a millennium twist on “beating the system.” There’s no doubt about it, this is the system, and it’s not going away. Rock on, Al Gore.

No, I’m IMing with the best of ‘em, attaching and CCing my little brains out (case in point: my proficient techno-verbing). I thoroughly enjoy email for its built-in get-to-the-point efficiency. We cut to the chase, yet engage in connection that often even leads to relationship, startling as that is. I have numerous connections with people I never see, but we’ve become e-close or at least friendly through email. Most of these people I’ve not even spoken with on the telephone. What for? And I was tempted to write “lol” following that question, another fascinating element of our telecommunications: our abbreviated signals for electronic conversational responses.

But as communication systems go, our emails and IMs, while speedy and efficient, still lack the essential face-to-face element so necessary for some of the subtleties of communication. Yes, I admit a message all in caps does feel harsh, and no, I can’t explain why. And some of those little face icons can make me laugh out loud, but I’m an easy laugher. But they still don’t come close to taking the place of the mano y mano assessment, of having the opportunity to eyeball the other’s person’s unspoken signals. People are so rarely completely direct verbally, or in this case textually, that I feel sometimes lost without the up-close and personal viewpoint of facial expressions and body language. But even this wailing is probably for naught, as I assume that very soon this complaint will be outdated, and webcams will be as omnipresent as cell phones. My challenge then will be more cosmetic, I fear. I guess it’s always something, sigh.

To tell you the truth, I’ve never really understood why so many people dislike change. Or at least, say they don’t like change, and even proclaim it quite convincingly. The truth is that many of us would choose it over monotony, or even sometimes over protracted consistency. Who doesn’t enjoy the occasional switch-up? Some of us are just wired to enjoy change simply as an end in itself, and love a good surprise.

Whether you mourn it or celebrate it, change is a fact of life, one that comes fast and furious on the web. The recent transfer of management of CMCentral, I believe, falls into the celebratory category, and creates some horizon-expanding opportunities. What’s not to like there?!

With that end in mind, we offer the following schedule of regular postings for your surfing pleasure:

Mondays: Artist Devotionals: Various artists share Scriptural reflections, fresh manna to get our week kicked off in the best possible way.

Tuesdays: Artist Interviews: Catching up with fan favorites and soon-to-be favorites, from worlds both indie and labeled.

Wednesdays: Blog: Thoughts on things from Editor Kevan Breitinger, some of them musical.

Thursdays: Album Reviews: Continuing our proud tradition of covering all the latest releases. Stop by on Thursdays for our thoughts on albums new and newer.

Fridays: Feature Articles: Covering a variety of music-related issues and events.

CMCentral will continue on in its proud tradition as your most reliable news source as well. Please count on these as can’t-miss-moments in your web travels, or at least good-to-check-out. On top of those regular delectables, you’ll find the irregular fits-no-category tidbits, like our upcoming Tour Blogs, from Mainstay (starting this week) and Our Heart’s Heroes (from November’s Punk-The-Halls Tour). It’s hard to nail down the tidbits to a regular schedule, but like I said, unpredictable can be fun. Say it along with me, people: CHANGE IS GOOD!

I spent much of last week at a themed resort, a heavily themed resort with a number of settings, each staged with meticulous attention to detail. A long-time lover of Africa and all things African, I was thrilled to stay in a lodge manned by natives, brimming over with African art and ambiance, and alive at all times with the sound of African music. The air was deliciously filled with softly undulating rhythms, quiet wooden vibes, and subtle chantings.

Venture outside of the lodge area into another setting, and you might hear airy Asian whistles, or Venetian love ballads, or worse, much worse, endless repetitions of “It’s A Small World.” Yes, my family visited Disney World, and take it from me, the world really is not that small. But I digress….

I was fascinated by the way Disney used music to create a setting. The subliminal soundtrack of each venue deliberately crafted an appealing ambiance, removing you from central Florida and transporting you to a place distant both geographically and psychically. Disney leaves nothing to chance, and the effect was subtle yet profound, exactly as intended, I’m sure. The soundtrack encouraged you to believe that you were, indeed, on an African plain. And it was presented with such understated appeal that you were happy to do so.

You probably know where I’m going with this…. While I admit that the application isn’t exactly the same, I wonder if our music, themed in a somewhat similar sense, is as successful. Does Christian music create a vibe equally as winsome? Are our musical expressions of faith ‘transporting’ in the sense of offering a glimpse into another world? As imaginative as ol’ Walt was, even he couldn’t duplicate the ‘quickening’ power of the Spirit. We have access to the same power that raised Christ from the dead; imagine if it filled our music.

I’ve been wondering for a while now about the incessant clapping between songs during Sunday morning worship. I’m not sure how this strange trend started, but it’s always made me uncomfortable. Coincidentally, it seems to have started right around the time worship music hit the commercial market in a big way, and I’ve wondered also if there is a connection between these two developments. Exactly who is being applauded on Sunday morning? You want to assume it’s God, but it never really feels that way to me.

I visited a church in my area for the first time yesterday, one that has been growing rather explosively. It was the snappy ad in the paper that drew me, something about ‘experiencing the power of God.’ …In a word, NOT. It was actually more like an extended period of elevator behavior. You know, where everyone stares straight ahead in a zombie-like trance of extreme isolation? Even the clapping felt a bit robotic. But when the pastor mentioned being ‘back-stage,’ I felt a chill rundown my spine.

Yes, in one sense it’s just a word, a descriptive term of location. But could it also serve to explain a central shift in our worship perspective? Worship as performance rather than devotion? A friend had recommended the church to me, saying that it was ‘like going to a concert.’ Unfortunately, it was exactly like that. The final nail in the coffin was when we were singing “I Could Sing of Your Love Forever” following the sermon. The lead guitarist leaned into the mic and thanked us for coming, at which point the singing stopped mid-song (I kid you not!) and the robots, um, I mean, the people turned immediately to the aisles and left, quickly and rather silently. Apparently ‘forever’ wasn’t even the full three minutes. This song was not so much an expression of adoration as a part of the closing ceremony.

At what point did the audience of One come to mean ourselves?