This is not a post about criticism of "JSS" -- it's far from perfect. There are the clunkers, it's firmly in the seventies. It's a bit (a bit?!) melodramatic, but I adore it anyway. This post is not about who's the cooler Jesus (hint: not the "Godspell" one.) This is also not about what Andrew Lloyd Webber became (hint: bleh!) This is about stumbling upon things you love.
I love this album like one loves an old friend who stops by after being away for a few years. Admittedly, it's one of those friends who, after a while, you remember why it's been a few years. I'm sure I'll listen to this album for a day or two and then put it away for another couple of years. But when I listen to "JSS", I am pulled into it completely. Do I want to sing along at the top of my lungs, complete with diva poses, in the middle of this coffeehouse? Maybe. (hint: yes. Totally.)
I am listening to this on headphones and I am picking up little things I never heard listening to it on my parents' old victrola. Today I am hearing the sadness in Jesus' voice. He knows he's doomed, but he's not telling anyone. He's marching into town, pushing himself to sing "Hosanna" with a forced joy that isn't there, but he's got to keep the crowd into it. He's tired, everyone is telling him how to do his job, he's literally begging for his life. It's not a good week for the guy. You almost get the feeling that he hands himself over to Pilate to just end all this craziness. He just wants it over.
When I listen to albums I've ignored, I realize I need to dig deeper in my music collection. Tomorrow I'll pull out another album that I've forgotten about. But today, it's back to "What's the buzz..."
P.S. Dear stoned guy singing back-up -- I kind of love you!
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