Where did most of our learning about playing in a band occur? That’s right, in our parent’s garage! God bless my mom and dad; they endured mini-earthquakes that shook our tiny home in Fullerton, made by cranked guitars and drums. I’m sure the music we were trying to create wasn’t fully in tune or on the beat. But we had a dream,  and it was to become the best players we could be.

Nowadays, a person off the street can pick up a guitar, squelch out a few notes into an auto-tuner, don a pair of skinny jeans and a bed-head hairdo, and make it big as a pop star. Thanks to the fast-track to fame, shows like American Idol and the X Factor crank out factory-made performers–not unlike steroid-induced chickens that are rushed from incubator to market in what seems like a week. The problem with this is that the wanna be performers miss the all-important period of learning to walk (musically speaking) and the chance to make mistakes in obscurity, to experiment, fail again, and develop the creative prowess and stamina that will bring longevity to their career. Tell me, beside the obvious few, where are all the TV talent show winners now?

Dave Grohl, leader of the Foo Fighters and former drummer of Nirvana (can you believe it’ll be 18 years in April that Kurt Cobain passed away?), returned to the garage–literally–to record the Grammy-winning recording Wasting Light. I think it was cool that they decided to connect with their early days of working out songs in a sweaty garage, next to the trash cans and lawn mower (Grohl’s studio/garage was probably a bit more high tech).

It’s hard to beat the mean streets when it comes to attaining a true, hardscrabble-wrought career as a songwriter and musician. Yes, I’ll admit to using a computer to record music. But what Grohl said in his Grammy speech, after winning Best Rock Album last weekend, was awesome. Standing with his band mates at the podium, he encouraged the younger generation, with hopes of one day becoming artists, to work out their dreams the hard and true way–through relying on heart and soul, not machines, short-cuts or phony methods. AMEN!

Check out what Dave Grohl said in his Grammy speech below…

The first five words of the Bible are: “In the beginning God created…” As creative people, we actually follow in our Creator’s footsteps. God gave specific orders to Adam, the first human being, to make up names for the animals (Genesis 2:19). As far as I can see in the Bible, God never jumped in to intervene. I never read where God said, “Adam, are you sure that’s a good name for so and so?” He gave Adam dominion over the animals (Genesis 1:26-27). The Creator gave Adam a partner, Eve (Genesis 2:19b-22), and told them to be fruitful and multiply (Genesis 1:28). It was an incredible trust that God gave to Adam and Eve, but through disobedience, that trust was betrayed (Genesis 3). Even today, we, Adam’s descendants. are free to make choices and decisions. The problem is, we must all take responsibility for the choices we make, and face the consequences.

Our need for God hasn’t changed since Adam and Eve left the Garden. Their descendants have inherited this God-need and people today are still looking to fill the vacuum in their hearts with many things–all of which don’t compare to a true relationship with God. Creativity itself will never fill the God-void. Its only when we come back to the Creator, establish a personal relationship with Him through the blood of Jesus and become  Christ-followers, that we ever find true peace and purpose in our lives.

At the point of redemption (God paid our sin’s ransom through Jesus’ death and resurrection), our journey as creative people is properly aligned with the great creative force that exists in God. He wants to use us to do great things in His Kingdom, with His people, and to glorify His name. I believe the “sky’s the limit” for our creativity as Christians. We are not doomed to produce milquetoast, goody-goody works of art for our Lord, but are free to find and use the coolest forms of artistic expression that lead humanity to our great God. 

Receiving God’s grace and redemption is the true beginning of our creative journey. May God show Himself mightily as you seek to be the artist God created you to be. 

I’ve been thinking lately about how music has affected my life. Like many who find themselves as professional musicians and songwriters in middle age, there must have been a powerful influence early-on that propelled us into this crazy life–even after various career near-death experiences. What is it that keeps us going?

I was talking to a friend and frequent worship band member Sunday who told me how his dad’s record collection had a strong influence on him becoming a musician. He talked of sitting transfixed, looking at record jackets and listening to those classic 70s tunes. He pointed out that it was not just the songs but the sound of each instrument that created such wonder. Like me, those experiences launched my friend into the trajectory as a musician, ultimately landing him in
Nashville.

Each artistic person I meet seems to have had an indelible childhood experience. The emotions we felt then, even as early as infancy, are still alive many years later. As a musician and songwriter, I find myself attempting to re-create those visceral emotions in others. If I can accomplish that goal, I feel I’ve succeeded as an artist.

Look for part 2 of The Artist in my next blog. Thanks for reading!

I lay in bed this morning listening as the garbage truck stopped and started in front of each house on our street. These sounds can often go unnoticed if we don’t pay close attention. To join the cacophony, distant birds and an occasional neighbor’s heat pump wound up and wound down again to silence.

My earliest memories include the sound of distant trains that would make their midnight passage through Fullerton toward faraway destinations. I wondered about fabled hobos who may have found shelter in one of the train’s rail cars. Well, maybe by the mid-sixties hobos didn’t even exist anymore. But the sounds I heard outside, when everything else was still, made a big impression on me and stirred my imagination.

In my southern California childhood home, we never used an air conditioner; the windows were always cranked out in the spring and summer to allow the circulation of fresh air. The only thing between me and the outside was a dusty screen. I fell asleep many nights to the sound of rustling leaves and cats as they slithered through the bushes below my bedroom window. The smell of fresh air always brings me back to those growing-up days in Fullerton–fresh bed sheets from the line always felt so good after a hot bath; the scent of bar soap on my arm as I slept added to my feeling of safety and security–don’t ask me why.

Our homes are closed up tight nowadays and are less and less connected to the outside world. The summer sounds of lawn mowers and hissing sprinklers are often drowned-out by loud TVs and iPod headphones. I miss the music of children playing and the warm outside air as it shifts through the screen door to ruffle the curtains. Those are the sights and sounds of contentment to me, sounds that let me know everything is all right.