Last night was the end of about two months of waiting; I finally got the chance to see the band Tow’rs at Club Cafe in Pittsburgh, PA. It was my first time seeing a show in that venue, and I was pleasantly surprised by how intimate it was. Further, the band was gracious enough to hang out a little after the show and chat with the fans.
Based on my brief conversation with lead singer Kyle Miller and the introduction he gave before playing the band’s #1 song, ‘Belly of the Deepest Love,’ I was able to confirm what I already knew. The band has released three albums to date, and with each album, there has been a clear transition away from faith toward doubt, from glorifying God to shouting into the void felt in his absence. Miller publicly admitted to a certain ambivalence about playing the song, and he privately confirmed the internal tension that he, if not the whole band, feels about singing what amounts to a praise song.
Going through a transition of faith and feeling lost adrift in the doldrums of doubt is an uncomfortable place to be. Going through the transition with the literal and adoptive family of the band must be agonizing. Going through the transition publicly in your music, having to play and replay these deeply personal songs, songs which are constant reminders of the pain, must be excruciating.
But for the fans who have followed the discography of Tow’rs, those of us who have listened intently to the lyrics and understand the imagery and emotion evoked in each song, the raw sincerity packed into these three albums make this band second to none. We crave this kind of genuine songwriting. We want to see something real, even when it is so incredibly painful.
For myself as a Christian reviewer, Christian thinker, and aspiring Christian artist, I want to say thank you to the band. I hope this ambitious 3-album review does your work justice and honors the emotion and energy that you have infused into your past work and in all that to come.
In a YouTube interview posted in December 2015, Gretta, Kyle’s wife, briefly mentioned that the band started playing music together as a part of their time in Young Life College, a Christian organization that ministers to college students. And with the themes that overflow out of their first album, self-titled Tow’rs, it is clear that the band approached songwriting with an eye on their creator.
On Tow’rs there are various references to the good light of God in contrast to the darkness of our world. Likewise, in the song ‘River,’ we see clear biblical and gospel-inspired references to baptism and the peace that accompanies our walk with Christ. And in a beautiful metaphor, the song ‘Swelling Sea’ compares God to the moon and us humans to the waters of the ocean. God is constantly moving around us, and though we have to be patient to feel his influence, we can rest assured that we will swell with his presence like the rising tide.
But in no song on Tow’rs is biblical imagery more clearly expressed than in ‘Belly of the Deepest Love’ (embedded above). This, as mentioned above, is essentially a praise song. The song opens by describing the way that nature reflects and reminds us of the glory of God and the beautiful sacrifice of his son Jesus. It goes on to describe the thunderous effect of Christ’s crucifixion and the grave-defeating consequence of his resurrection. This is all a part of the faith that they held onto as they grew up with their parents leading their religious experience, the mother reminding them to “listen up close” to the testimony that nature declares through general revelation.
The most beautiful and tear-evoking phrase from the song is, “I tried to get to you, but you came to me instead. Oh, how you wished to be with me.” On Tow’rs, the band glorifies God for the active role they have seen him play in overcoming their shortcomings and making up the distance as he comes down to his creation in the humble form of Jesus Christ. This kind of love is from deep within the belly of God, and we feel it viscerally too, those of us who have encountered him in this way.
Though Tow’rs played a number of songs from their first album last night, ‘Belly of the Deepest Love’ was the only one which explicitly referenced any spiritual and biblical imagery. This song they feel compelled to play because of its popularity and how it has significantly contributed to their success. Otherwise, as I believe, they would shy away from playing it due to the deep emotional pain which it evokes for a band that has shifted away from that kind of religious certainty and toward an aching doubt.
Tow’rs second album is The Great Minimum, and although it is clear that the band shifts away from the religious influences that rooted the first album, they still use some beautiful biblical imagery, particularly in two songs.
If the theme of Tow’rs was God’s good light and positive influence in changing our lives, the theme of The Great Minimum is that life is hard, relationships are hard, the world is passing, and pain is inevitable. There are great depths of meaning when we consider human suffering, doubt, and insecurity, and the band plumbs these waters beautifully.
My favorite song on the album, by far, is ‘Mindful’ (embedded above). The lyrics are lifted right out of the Book of Job. Just as Job dealt with suffering and questioned God’s presence, goodness, and perhaps even his existence, the band asks questions of God about how he could have disappointed their expectations so severely. The speaker begins the song by admitting, “I have many questions for you. My mouth is so full I cannot chew. Are you listening, are you listening? My friends are hurting, they are hurting.”
The speaker of this song is asking the age-old question, “Where is God amidst the suffering?” The speaker has so many questions that it seems like nothing at all can be said. As there continues to be no apparent answer from God, everything goes grey, nothing is clear, nothing is absolute. Without a reference to the objective goodness and light of God, the world becomes a little less real, if no less painful. But on The Great Minimum the band has not yet given themselves over to total doubt. The song continues by asking, “Is there an answer in the silence? Are we asking the wrong question?”
Using Job as an example, they are able to humble themselves and ask, “Have we given orders to the morning? Or told the dawn its place to be? Can we bind the chains of Pleiades? Or command the sea?” Even though there is no sense of God’s presence anywhere near, the band can still recognize his sovereignty, as Job eventually did as well, abandoning his self-righteousness and judgmental attitude toward God. In their doubt they are naturally inclined to question, and question they do. Question they should. It can be painful for the believer to hear these questions, but they are honest. Truly, we have all likely at some time turned to God in our desperation and asked “How long do you expect me to hold out? Why aren’t you around like you used to be? Why can’t I feel your presence anymore?” These are fine questions when genuinely asked, and they carry us through the seasons in the valley.
‘Mindful’ is followed by ‘Circles,’ a song that invites those who are tired of chasing God to remember that he is the one chasing us. As we search for that old feeling of intimacy with God, if we would have the wisdom to stop and turn, we would find God approaching us. The cyclical nature of faith and doubt are on display in this song, and it seems as though the band feels that God will call out to them once more, he will come near, and he will clothe their insufficiency and shame. In spite of the doubt, faith lives on, as feeble as it may be.
Tow’rs third album is named Grey Fidelity, and it would behoove me to allow the band to introduce its theme.
The grey inconclusive nature of life felt paralysing at times this year. In the midst of liminal spaces, fidelity was a reoccurring hope where there weren’t conclusions. And though we often operated out of a grey area of knowledge, it became an ongoing observation that fidelity to hope seemed more important than having answers. Fidelity to our marriages seemed more important than being right or getting our way. Fidelity to vulnerability seemed more important than protecting ourselves from the inevitable pain of community. Fidelity to social justice and human rights seemed more important than protecting our image or privilege. Our hope for these songs is to invite you not into certainty, but into devotion to hope. A place we tried to operate in despite not being able to know or see the full outcome of that devotion.
https://towrs.bandcamp.com/album/grey-fidelity
The grey uncertainty introduced on the last album in ‘Mindful’ becomes the entire theme for Grey Fidelity, and we are introduced to what keeps the band holding on to whatever faith they have remaining. Hope and hope alone seems to be what keeps them moving forward. Their hope is primarily anchored in each other; it is a hope that human faithfulness will be enough. The songs on this album emphasize the importance of remaining faithful to one’s spouse through the difficult times, which will surely come.
The album opens with ‘Girl in Calico,’ in which the speaker reaffirms his commitment to his wife. The loss of God’s presence is still painfully real, but the band knows that individual humans struggle to fill that space on their own. Faithfulness in our relationships is an important part of what will solidify our dubious persons. “We are mist, colored clear. As we disappear, life reappears. Our eyes our flint. I mean what I meant, in sickness and health.” Even if God has proven unfaithful, or at least of little importance due to his obstinate absence, we humans need to stick together, remain faithful to each other, and maybe that will provide enough to see us through. On our own, we would surely fail.
God’s absence is a specter haunting Grey Fidelity. We hear about “a kindness only darkness proves,” which of course is a darkness only possible because of the absence of God’s light. Human kindness can then show up and represent some of God’s goodness.
Still, the album may have hints of God’s presence, the best case for which is made in ‘Revere.’ The speaker refers to the subtle faithfulness of someone whose presence is hardly felt. “I revere that you are still waiting. Have I taken you for granted beside me, always beside me.” Is he speaking to God or his wife? It is very hard to say, and on Grey Fidelity we can feel assured that is on purpose. God has melted into the background so completely that we are unsure of whether he is present at all.
If on Tow’rs we felt a deep personal connection with our savior and on The Great Minimum we became increasingly concerned that God may have abandoned us, on Grey Fidelity any intimacy with God is completely severed. The song ‘Holy Water’ disembodies the glory and holiness of God, applies it to an inanimate representation of God’s presence, and asks the question, “If they call the waters holy, does it mean that you can’t drown?” Doubt, skepticism, and real cynicism come through in the following lyrics:
- “How can you love something that kills you all the same?”
- “I’ve tried, I’ve tried, I’ve tried to find you.”
- “The same thistles round your head are the walls I find myself in.”
- And finally: “If you’re holy, does it mean that we can’t drown?”
No more tip-toeing around the issue.
God, where are you? I’ve been begging you to show up? I need you, and you know I need you. I know the Bible. I know your story. I’ve heard about your love and salvation. Once I thought I felt your love and salvation. But you’ve gone. I feel like a chump. I think I wasted my faith on you rather than using it wisely on the ones who I know will be with me every day. Why should I love and pursue you if you won’t do the same?
There is so much bitterness and perceived betrayal in ‘Holy Water,’ and as I have said, the song no longer approaches God as a person with whom you might interact. He is a brick wall hemming us in or perhaps a formless void that we shout our complaints into. He seems to be completely immaterial.
But I can certainly say this for ‘Holy Water:’ it keeps asking questions. It claims nothing as certainty. There is still doubt in there, no matter how cynical it might be. And that’s where I continue to find hope in Tow’rs lyrics, in spite of the shift away from God from album to album.
The most lyrically rich song on Grey Fidelity is ‘Liminal,’ as you might have suspected from the band’s description of the album above. The word “liminal” is defined:
- relating to a transitional or initial stage of a process
- occupying a position at, or on both sides of, a boundary or threshold
The lyrics to the song beautifully use one particular image to show what “liminal” means. They implicitly ask what state you are in as you are waking? Are you sleeping? Or are you awake? Tow’rs continues to ask questions, to their credit, and they answer this one by saying, “It’s while I was sleeping that I woke.” The truth is that there isn’t really a good answer. The transition is the answer. The act of waking occurs as we sleep and as we are awake. It is the process. It is the transition.
As the speaker of ‘Liminal’ was not seeking or listening for his beloved but she appears all the same, I think that the band hopes that God will do the same thing. They are not ready to give up. Not quite yet. For now, and we do not know how much longer, the band will stand fast within the grey fidelity, content to linger in the liminal space between faith and faithlessness. They cry, “God, we believe. Help our unbelief. Please, please help our unbelief.”
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There are plenty of examples of artists who have grown up in Christian homes or were once true believers themselves who turn from the faith and continue to create art in the process. The art produced through the process and on the other side of apostasy is some of the hardest for believers to consume. It is heartbreaking.
I personally think of Noah Gundersen. His early albums dealt with religious themes and used religious images. He sang old hymns with his siblings. But as he continued to fall away from his parents’ faith, he eventually got to the point where he released ‘Empty From The Start,’ an ode to atheism and utter hopelessness. He admits, “There’s nothing you can do, honey, there’s nothing you can do that would save me.” He feels that we might as well love each other because we won’t experience love any other way.
Tow’rs is not there yet, and I ardently hope and pray that they will not get there. The band’s constant questioning is an encouragement to me, and I hope it is to all of us. If you have not gone through significant periods of doubt yet, believe me, you will. Faith is difficult in this world, and doubt is natural. We should not, we cannot blame our brothers and sisters in the times when they feel low and just can’t sense God’s presence. It is in those times when our hands and feet must be Jesus’ hands and feet. It is in those times when we need to stand in the gap and let them feel our love, constant support, and refusal to abandon them. By acting out God’s love we embody God’s love and his presence is real once more, through us.
I believe it is incumbent upon Christians to promote good art, which necessarily has to be honest, authentic, and vulnerable. I believe it is important for Christians to accept that artists go through times of doubt and can simultaneously create beautiful and heartrending pieces of art. I believe we in the church need to unabashedly support those who put themselves on the line night after night, publicly performing the most painful aspect of their lives.
I for one will be praying for the individual members of Tow’rs, especially Kyle and Gretta Miller, who are raising their family in and through their art, doubt, and pain. This band deserves our support. They deserve our prayers. And they deserve for their prayers to be answered.
I believe God is going to answer their prayers, bless them, and through them bless all of us who are so incredibly grateful to have heard their music.