averyfineline » Isaacs

The Isaacs

Avery — Thu, 15 Nov 2007 01:34:52 +0000

Way back when, this comment coupled with this article (hat tip, Martin) got me thinking about the Isaacs. Specifically, why didn’t or haven’t they left a more profound impression on the musical world? Or have they, and I just don’t know where to look? In this alleged age of the cross-over, poly-generic, stylistically diverse, mult-repurposeable artist, the Isaacs would seem to be or (in their heyday, which I sense has now passed) have been the perfect example from Christian Entertainment of artistic dexterity – a group able to gain and hold the attention of a sustainable portion of gospel, country, bluegrass, and some folk audiences and, with Gaither’s exposure, the inspo-anthem world. At least that’s the conventional wisdom. But have they in fact done that? Or instead did the Conventional Wisdom create a self-fulfilling myth about the Isaacs that was enabled by their affiliation with the Homecoming Tour but not supported by reality?

I honestly don’t know enough about the genres adjacent to sg in which the Isaacs work to speak authoritatively about this. But while I wait for someone to speak up who can, my own sense has always been that Sonya (obviously) and Ben have pro-quality skills and talents (as did the quiet boyish looking guy who played banjo but left a while back) but that that talent wasn’t enough to give the group as a whole the star-quality appeal they would have needed to become the sort of artist’s artists who thrive – musically and economically – in the space between conventional approaches and styles.

It’s hard to define, this lack of a certain something I’m trying to describe. But I sense it with some kinds of gospel groups, the ones who demonstrate obvious instinctual, native talent (”God-given,” in the vernacular), self-possessed artists with an ease to their artistry than many musicians twice their age and with greater formal training spend lifetimes never approaching. And yet this native ability only takes one so far and then another kind of intuition — not artistic, but strategic, entrepreneurial and self-promotional — is necessary to translate God-given talent into mass-market appeal.

On stage for the Isaacs, this lack of that certain something is most evident in Lily’s turgid emcee work. It’s often labored and ponderous and tills far too familiar ground while also relying on the assumption that an east-coast Jewish evangelical bluegrass emcee mother of pickin-and-grinnin’ country kids holds an intrinsic fascination for audiences that I’m not sure was ever that great and certainly has felt schticky for quite some time now. But that’s only emblematic (Sonya’s and Becky’s emcee fill-in is often barely more than serviceably better). More substantively, the Isaacs tried to pivot off their Gaither success into a kind of singer-songwriter thing with Heroes that they couldn’t sustain in the long run or simply didn’t stick with long enough.

I’ve always wondered if Sonya’s wasn’t of the sort of near-genius musical talent that was so creatively active and capable of seeing and doing so many different exciting things at once that she never could decide or stick with any one thing long enough to solidify a career to match her immense artistic capacity. Certainly she seems to have had the access and the ability to make it in country had she wanted to. And with the right cultivation, the Isaacs could have probably become much more of a Crabb-family mainstay in sg/country gospel (knowing what little I do about the ascendancy of purists in the folk and bluegrass world, I suspect the Isaacs’ eclecticism is or would have been responsible for keeping them out of a top-tier spot in the bluegrass world). Though of course, the Crabb Family exploded on the scene … and then imploded under the pressure of their own success, so perhaps that comparison proves, rather than counterpoints, what I’m trying to say about the Isaacs.

I guess it’s possible they already occupy a prime position in Christian entertainment and I’ve missed it, but I don’t think that’s the case. Instead, my hunch is that the worlds that we pontificators tend to think of as porously interrelated and ripe with possibilities for crossover synergy are actually far more insular and hostile to synergetic interlopers than we imagine. And that it takes an enormous amount of all the right stuff (not just looks and a good voice and God-given ability) to make the cross-over thing work. Sure there are the Gaithers and Mat Kearnys and the Oaks of the world. But oughtn’t there to be a sublunary tier of artists (like the Isaacs) who don’t necessarily remake the heavens with their crossings-over but sustain an above-averagely successful crossover career if the crossover theory is as descriptively accurate as we think it is? And if there isn’t any empirical evidence of this sort, how sustainable is the cross-over thesis?

You and me just don’t agree

Avery — Mon, 21 Mar 2005 20:54:08 +0000

Driving through a part of the outstate where my car picks up a fleeting sg radio signal for a few minutes, I caught the Isaacs “Heroes” this afternoon and some other numbers before the station disintegrated into fuzz. During the Isaacs, I heard one of those ungrammatical lines that just grate on me: “And those who sacrifice to raise a child that’s not their own.” Child that? NO! Things that … people who. This happens all the time in countless songs, most famously and often in sg during the song “Thank God I’m Free,” the line: “like a blind man THAT God gave back his sight.” When a group I played for was recording this line in the studio, I was slouching on a couch in the corner studying for a French exam (I had just started college), and I absolutely lifted outta my seat when I heard this … yelling: “BLIND MAN WHO! BLIND MAN WHO!” (The group owner was not pleased that I was sucking up precious billable minutes prattling on about relative pronouns, but the group sang the line correctly in the end).For people who view language as a tool, like a spade or crowbar used to accomplish necessary tasks, these grammatical infelicities probably don’t matter much. But for anyone with an affection for the aesthetic and moral component that inheres in language, this who-that sort of thing is a high crime of sloppiness. At its worst it ultimately reduces people to the same linguistic status as … well, a crowbar or a spade. Or, as the high priest of grammar, H.W. Fowler, puts it: To apply “that” to people “is perhaps felt to be a sort of slight, depriving them of their humanity.” In the benign cases, grammatical imprecision for no defensible stylistic reason bespeaks carelessness that reflects a little shabbily on the writer. The more egregious offenses are those contortions and misappropriations of grammar that lyricists and artists use because they’re too lazy to rewrite the line. Thus Paula Cole (a pop singer) sings

So open up your morning light
And say a little prayer for I
You know that if we are to stay alive
And see the peace in every eye…

Here, “say a little prayer for I” (AHHHH! It drives me crazy just to type and look at that) has intentionally been rendered ungrammatical (it should be “for me”) so it will rhyme with “eye.” Honestly. And this is hit music. Please. You don’t have to know the difference between subjective pronouns (”I,” “you,” “he” … things that occupy subject positions in the sentence - i.e. “he shoots and scores”) and objective pronouns (”me,” “him,” “her” … things that occupy object positions in sentences - i.e. “say a little prayer for me”) to know that interchanging the two in order to achieve a pedestrian rhyme is a slatternly way to write. On the other hand, I appreciate stylized if not exactly proper pronunciation: “There’s a land where meeelk and honey flow.” Or “though we may ahhhn errrth Lee treasures, untold …” In these cases, the grammatical integrity of the lyrics remain intact while the artists are able to imbue the words with the stamp of authenticity. Language is a vehicle, but that doesn’t mean it must be a jalopy.

Thou shalt not have other idols

Avery — Mon, 10 Jan 2005 03:49:50 +0000

[WARNING: if you do not wish to read about potential progress of Brad Hudson’s stint on American Idol , SKIP TO THE NEXT PARAGRAPH. Don’t say I didn’t warn you.] Curious reader BT writes to ask a question that several of you have put to me in one form or another regarding Brad Hudson’s upcoming appearance on American Idol: “Do you think his background in SG will be a help or a hindrance as a contestant on Idol? Also what do you think his motivation would be to be a contestant?” As to the first question, it’s hard to say definitively without seeing how Hudson’s sg background does or does not play out in his time on the show. He could, for instance, get as far as the top 10 or so (which is what I’ve heard actually happens) without anything whatsoever being made of his sg history. Conversely, he and/or the show’s producers could choose to play up his gospel past as a way to create some diversity in contestant narratives. But the only way I can see his faith hindering him is he acts like a dogmatic goon or a hatefully narrow-minded prude. We’ll just have to wait and see. As to the second question (why do I think he wanted to be on Idol?), that’s something best put to Hudson himself. In the meantime, the short answer is that he probably wanted to be a contestant on Idol for the same reason most other people: they want to be a star. I’d wager pretty confidently that very few talented, young, ambitious, and telegenic sg singers haven’t pined long and hard to see their names in some other, more secular lights than the neon glow of the church sign that normally displays something like “The only way to stand is down on your knees” or “Seven days without prayer makes one weak.” Not surprisingly, Hudson seems to be one of those people. In all the statements I’ve found about Hudson’s departure from 3 for 1 last year, they involve some vagary about feeling led to some other form of ministry or in a new direction. My own sense is that this was about as far as he felt comfortable going by of explaining what he had in mind for himself next. And who can really blame him? Artists who leave sg or even branch out to other genres of Christian music are often treated as if they’d drank pig’s blood on stage. So you can’t expect folks like Hudson, who (from all appearances) is aiming for some kind of career in pop/secular music, to take out billboard signage to announce his plans. There’s a kind of kill-the-heretics mentality in sg that has many ugly faces, and one of them is a steadfast refusal to countenance aspirations beyond the confines of sg.That’s why Kathy Crabb, I imagine, was so carefully terse in her statement responding to reports that the Crabbs may be signing with a secular label of some sort: “We are,” Crabb said, “committed to singing songs that lyrically reflect who we are as Christians.” And you could almost see her tip-toeing her way through this particular minefield. Though Crabb’s statement is a bit more polished and savvy than Hudson’s, they both say (and don’t say) the same thing. Notice neither of them said they would always or only sing gospel or even Christian music, since - after all - it’s possible to sing secular songs that reflect general Christian principles for living and don’t violate one’s moral codes and religious beliefs. Think of a song like the Isaacs’ “Heroes,” a tune that is not overtly religious and barely Christian in any obviously doctrinal way. Such a song could easily show up on any country-music radio playlist and - with a little reworked instrumentation - more than a few soft rock stations. It’s easy to forget how much lyrical meaning derives from context. Audiences at NQC make very different assumptions about the underlying meaning of a song like “Heroes” than would an audience at, say, a bluegrass festival in Paducah, KY. For some people (perhaps Hudson, perhaps the Crabbs, probably Gaither), “ministry” admits a much wider range of possibilities than is typically associated with the word in sg. Of course, whether or not there is a viable, meaningful ministerial component to singing “crossover” songs that can “pass” for religious or secular depending on the context … well, now that’s a debate for another day.

The Isaacs: Heroes

Avery — Mon, 15 Nov 2004 17:13:33 +0000

The Issacs
Heroes
Gaither Music Group 2004
Posted November 15, 2004 10:25 PM

A few years back when the A&E channel’s “Live” musical performances were all the rage (MTV Unplugged for Boomers, really), I caught a few minutes of Vince Gill’s performance. And who was doing background vocals, playing just about any stringed instrument possible, and generally making Gill sound like a million and one bucks but Sonya Isaacs. I wasn’t so much surprised as infinitely pleased. Gill made some brief mention of Isaacs, and she stepped halfway out of the darkness of the band section to nod demurely and grin nervously (or, rather, it appeared that she was nervous, though that hardly seems possible). Then she stepped back into the shadows and resumed her omnicompetent work as the consummate musician she is. That scene could be something of an epigram for Heroes: like Isaacs herself, the disc is stylistically mature and musically dexterous, comfortable incorporating a variety of sounds and styles into the mix while remaining conceptually coherent.

This is true, I think, in large part because the Isaacs have learned from sg, their adoptive musical home, and brought to bluegrass the sg process of absorbing the best and brightest from other musical genres without losing the stylistic integrity of their native form. There’s no one style, per se, of music that dominates Heroes. Rather, from their bluegrass core, the Isaacs radiate outward, passing through any number of other genres, from country and gospel to the edges of contemporary, pop, and even jazz sounds, while always returning to their roots. The overall effect is musically stunning. The diversity of sounds running throughout the project pretty much guarantees almost anyone could listen to the project and find something identifiably familiar and pleasing. Yet, Heroes leaves little ground for bluegrass purists to complain. “Friends ‘Till the End,” the project’s smart, lively opening number, is thorouhgly bluegrass, while containing echoes of Irish folks rhythms, country, gospel, and little jazzy harmonic structures in a few places. “Peace Like a River” (not the old church camp standard) showcases the magical sweet agility of the Isaacs’ voices (listen to the way they sing the word “peace”). And like so many tunes on the project, this one comes with a musical twist: though infused with traditional bluegrass rhythms, there’s a subtle piano working understatedly in the background, and the effect is as delightful as it is difficult to describe.

Alongside this hybrid musical style is a consistency of lyrical themes centered around the title track’s notion of “Heroes” … average people in above averagely demanding situations. Lyrically, the project looks at this idea of ordinary heroes (or not) from a variety of perspectives - from the way regular Christian lives can be the source of great courage and accomplishment to the reality of profound pain, loss, and suffering. The connective tissue here is a preoccupation with scenes and experiences from everyday family life: In “Half a Day Away” it’s a kid’s first day of school (”I’m through with twinkie number two”); in “Heroes” it’s a family that bears the burdens of a child with “special needs” or a barren couple that adopts a child; in “Yours and Mine” it’s a mother wishing she could take her daughter’s pain (”I heard from the doctor … Oh I am so frightened … If I could take the fear all away / I’d gladly walk a mild in your shoes”); in “Peace” it’s a tragedy reported on “Channel 5″ or a friend in need of spiritual healing (”looking for God” in “a few good self-help books”). And some of these experiences seem pretty clearly to come from the Isaacs’ own experience. Take, for example, these lines from “Half a Day Away”:

Twently years and half a million miles
A lot of tears and ’bout as many smiles
Getting by with life the way I do
Getting’ paid to sing and play for you

Vignettes likes this one from family living (the Isaacs’ family living, this case) have the effect of imbuing the Isaacs with a great deal of goodwill and authenticity. The concern throughout the project for real people leading real lives of real suffering and trial is palpable. And the mellow bluegrass sound underwrites all these songs in a way that makes the Isaacs seem like old friends (this a Gaither Music Group project after all) singing their favorite songs in your brother-in-law’s rec room or, more likely, at a local benefit fundraiser for some ill or suffering family.

A couple of interesting things strike me about the way Heroes develops this idea of heroism (and, also, failure) amidst commonplace family life: first, the pain, hurt, grief, loss or suffering described in many of the songs often goes without any of the obvious or clear-cut resolution you might expect from gospel music. While the promise of God’s faithfulness or spiritual perseverance for the redeemed is implied, these songs often reach very ambivalent endings. “Sweet Holy Spirit,” for example, is as much a desperate plea for the ministerial grace of the holy spirit not to withdraw its presence as it is a promise of ultimate relief from current trials. Which brings us to the second point, heavenly relief in Heroes is at best something you often have to read between the lines of songs. For instance, “Peace” centers around three case studies in hopelessness (suicidal teenagers, a spiritual despairing friend, the town drunk) and their need for peace, rather than any description of the work of peace in these lives. I’m not sure what to make of all this. On one hand, I’m attracted to the humanness of the project, which stands in contrast to so much of the bromidic and clichéd songs that dog too many Christian music projects. On the other hand, there’s a slightly evasive quality to much of Heroes. In key moments, the music here lyrically backs away from or seems to be struggling to get squarely at the essence of grace and redemption. Too many trees from everyday life, and not enough of the prevailing spiritual forest.

Perhaps the most representative example of this disjointed quality is “Heroes,” which I find to be an tune odd, though I don’t mean that disparagingly. Without question, it’s the kind of song that truly ministers to people, by which I mean it speaks to the deep truths of everyday life and affirms the spiritual value of unglamorous struggles. And too, the song testifies to the Isaacs’ (and their arrangers’) considerable musical gifts. The sheer force of their talent keep the song’s lyrics, which tend toward the maudlin, from becoming unbearably sentimental.

… Every single parent who must carry twice the load
And those who sacrifice to raise a child that’s not their own …

On their own, these kinds of lines make me cringe. They feel too emotionally opportunistic - like singing about mama and daddy in heaven watchin’ over us - but somehow the music, the arrangement, and, above all, the Isaacs themselves manage to pull it off in a way that not only redeems the lyrics but makes them affecting and honest. Still, the tune leaves the underlying meaning - which I gather to be that everyday heroes are glimpses of divine grace in action - a little too disconnected from the case studies. Save for a passing reference to God knowing a little a girl who needed a home, there’s nothing much to distinguish the song lyrically from a poppy tear-jerker like “In My Daughter’s Eyes” or “Butterfly Kisses.” “Heroes” does a spectacular job of depicting in vivifying detail common situations that demand uncommon portions of grace and strength, but we are left to infer that such grace and strength come from the mystery of faith. The song, like a lot of others on the project, could and probably should do a better job of suggesting the way specifically Christian lives are equipped to deal with the kinds of struggles the songs describe.

The project is not all darkness, despair, or disjointedness. “If That Don’t’ Make You Want to Go” is quite fun, all the moreso for its admirable restraint. It’s one of those “Ahab the Arab” kinda sounding tunes that have a tendency to become instrumental black holes into which arrangers and producers often throw everything they’ve got lying around in the studio (see the Perry’s “David and Goliath” from Life of Love for an example of this “and the kitchen sink” brand of overly indulgent fun). “If that Don’t Make You Want to Go,” though, is musically good-humored while being highly disciplined. Meanwhile, “Yours and Mine” is proof positive that Lily Isaacs is the Connie Hopper of bluegrass: not someone who will knock your head with her solo abilities, but her powerfully genuine stage presence, her ensemble capacity, and her matriarchal appeal let her pull off a gentle-shepherdesque tune like “Yours and Mine” with great success (Lily’s version of Connie Hopper’s “Go Ask”). Finally, “Half a Day Away,” “Great is Thy Reward,” and “In His Hands” fill in around the edges of the more substantial tunes (of the three “Great is Thy Reward” is most successful placeholder).

The project concludes with “Sweet Holy Spirit” and “Peace.” The former is an old-fashioned tune in the tradition of the bluegrass crooner, in whose number Sonya Isaacs ranks very highly. At the same time, the country-edge to the harmonies (mortgaged heavily to old country-gospel chords, like the reliable five-seven) and instrumentation (a dash of piano, a leavening trap set) give the song a depth of emotional expression that makes the hair on the back of your arm stand up … not least of all because in addition to being steeped in the enriched sounds of the country-gospel tradition, the song does what too many other tunes on the project don’t do: it lyrically foregrounds the specifically divine component of Christian life that gives Christian music its emotional bite. Which is why, if I had been sequencing songs on the project, “Sweet Holy Spirit” would have swapped places with “Peace” in order to send the project out on a more satisfying note. The idea behind “Peace” - a seeker-sensitive take on various quests for peace - is evocative. The lyrics capture the real need of average people, and the musical score is truly beautiful. But something about the grittiness of the lyrics doesn’t quite come out in the wash of the arrangement. Or maybe, as the last song on a project full of anecdotal lyrics and images from everyday life, “Peace” suffers from listeners’ potential emotional fatigue. After all, one can only hear so many moving tales of how ordinary people can hurt in extraordinary ways before one becomes desensitized to the pain. Perhaps, then, Heroes ultimately is a victim primarily of its own success: it renders the painful reality of normalcy all too well, a bit too consistently. And in the end, that’s probably not a bad thing to be accused of, not bad at all.