Wolves

I was recently invited to be a guest on the Switchfoot Song Stories podcast, and the song I chose to speak about was ‘wolves’, from ‘interrobang‘.

There are many different Switchfoots. There is the Switchfoot of very accessible songs like Your Love Is A Song and Prodigal Soul, the Switchfoot of songs that grapple with more difficult stuff like The Blues and Let Your Love Be Strong; the anthemic Switchfoot of Dare You To Move, the poppy Switchfoot of Love Alone Is Worth The Fight, the rocked out Switchfoot of Stars, the quirky Switchfoot of Chem6A, and then largely hidden away in the b-sides and deep cuts, edgy Switchfoot.

My favourite songs in the world are Dare and 24, but my taste quickly gets weird from there on, with songs like Slow Down My Heartbeat, Stitches, Light and Heavy, Dirty Second Hands, Skin And Bones, and this one. I like it when they get a bit weird, a bit dark, and very creative. Whatever they do they do well, but they excel when they throw out the rules, forget mass appeal and embrace the chaos.

Wolves is a marmite track; it’s weird and it divides opinion. Some love it, some hate it. I adore it.

I have often heard Jon say, when asked for songwriting advice, that a good way to approach it is to start in the dark and aim for the light. To me this song encapsulates that perfectly. At first it feels like quite a dark song, and in many ways it is. It was written and partially recorded many years ago in Berlin, the gorgeously angsty double tracked vocals recorded into a laptop in a hotel room late at night, with Jon musing on all the reminders of war he saw in the city, but for me it captures the experience of depression well.

Depression often sends you into thought spirals, dragging you down and eating you up until you feel hopeless and cannot see a way forward. Before I knew of the song I wrote a poem personifying my depression as a wolf, stalking me from the shadows, waiting for a chance to attack, but imagining that wolf itself ambushed and caged, and then sitting down with the captive beast to talk through what it wanted of me.

This song feels similar. The whole song is an upward spiral, beginning in the darkest depths of depression but walking us upwards towards the light of hope. In a way it’s not running from the pain, but facing down the wolf head on and saying ‘no wolf, I know where you want to drag me, but I’m not going there’. That’s a courageous move, to speak back to your depression to move yourself on, and it takes a lot of practice. I love that this song gives you that practice.

Here is how it works for me:

‘Evening when the wolves come out, I’m a gloomy soul and I hear them howl in my head, greedy’

The wolves in your head begin to circle in the dark hours…

‘All of my worlds are collision and spin, hope is a war that we’re already in’

Everything feels fragmented and conflicted inside and like it wants to pull you apart as you battle to find hope. But keep plodding on with the dance of the song…

‘Begin again’

Keep trudging onwards and outwards. Breathe to the tempo; you pant for air as though climbing a mountain.

‘Snowfall for the battlefield… we were hoping for more’

As the song progresses we start to feel a bigger ache over the world, lifting us out of our own minds. It is still heavy but the picture is expanding. Keep going…

‘Begin again. All of my world’s in collision and spin, hope is a world that has yet to begin’

Notice that we feel one now even though nothing makes sense, and that hope, still out of sight, feels like it is there to come.

‘Awaken oh sleeper, a new day begins.’

Both the music and lyrics work together to take us on that journey, beginning low, lumbering, ominous and creepy, relentlessly pressing forwards and building, never pausing in case we should give in, but circling ever upwards to end somewhere much higher and lighter. Every time we begin the cycle again we are a little higher, our perspective a little bigger.

Sometimes all we need to do is to get through this next moment without going downwards. One step at a time, one breath at a time, one day at a time, end, begin again, don’t stop here, all things pass, reach for the world that has yet to begin.

It’s a reminder that the hurt of the world’s past and the hope of the world’s future meet in our here and now, in our ache and our actions, and we need this sort of encouragement to persevere on the long road to healing.

I have turned to this song many times myself when I have begun to spiral downwards, reminding myself to slow down, to breathe, to press onwards, to find hope through expanding my focus outwards and upwards, working to actively birth a better world as far as I am able and trusting the promise that that world is coming, even whilst it is out of sight, a hope that is bigger than me, bigger than my own life, my own world.

interrobang!?

Today Switchfoot released their 12^th full album interrobang. Even by Switchfoot’s standards this is an incredible record. Born of the trauma of the past couple of years, it holds a powerful message about community and connection, the songs forming a continuous thesis from start to finish. The lyrics are honest and poetic, the music brave and creative, the guitar tones gorgeous, and the vocals sublime.

Beloved opens the album the way one opens the pages of a book and begins to read. It comes in softly, posing questions and vulnerable half-thoughts, setting everything out like the introduction to an essay, inviting the listener in as the music builds to a truly epic, euphoric height: ‘maybe, maybe… come, let’s explore this together’.

lost ‘cause has a raw, mid 00’s rock vibe with a strong beat and guitar riff happily recalling Delirious? for me, a fragile, angsty energy running through it, expressing the nervous fears of what happens if we don’t overcome our division.

Fluorescent is superficially a song of infatuation with an unsuitable girl, but the more I listen the more I hear beneath the metaphor of the moth drawn to a false light a second layer of metaphor; the song actually explores our addiction to screens, and search for connection in a false world of social media that can distract us from the real. The verses are quirky and sparse, the guitars coming in more heavily under the chorus and lifted by powerful backing vocals.

if I were you is a fun song musically, harking back to Switchfoot’s most playful side that’s given us the likes of Daylight To Break and Don’t Want Your Money over the years and not often expressed on studio albums. It explores the idea of seeing each other’s perspectives, using quirky, questioning chord progressions.

The album then moves to the introspective. the bones of us is a tender heart wrencher, a soft and dreamlike jam about looking back on a now fractured relationship, tracing the breaks back to earlier days of love and laughter and wondering how to move forward and heal. Although again superficially about a personal relationship, and this time I think genuinely so, it also applies to the broken discourse of the national conversation, appealing to love of country to want to work things out.

Splinter is an angsty rock track, over-repeated lyrics and driving beat building a neurotic and unsettling sense of dis-ease before the chorus releases the tension with yells and screams, gutteral as Out Of Control and Connect With The Spine. I’m the problem here, I’m where these issues start.

I need you to be wrong takes the unease in a new direction. With its slinky, questioning vibe it ponders why we always seem to want to be right at all costs to relationship. Maybe all along we both were wrong? Maybe? The groove is infectious and I can’t stop moving to it, the vocal interlude that bursts into the bridge totally intoxicating.

the hard way feels like another foray back to the 00s, this time more of a post punk indie belter, and a lot of fun, though the lyrics carry a raw honesty acknowledging the mistakes that have pushed others away.

Then wolves lumbers in with groaning strings, a grungy, hypnotic and edgy track in the same dark mood as Slow Down My Heartbeat or Overthrow. It breathes of inner fears, anxieties and battles for hope as it slowly circle upwards towards a glimmer of light, trancelike with Jon’s low-fi vocal, recorded on a laptop decades past.

backwards in time feels like the closest link to Native Tongue, with a little of the slick, melancholy expansiveness of Oxygen and sway of The Strength To Let Go, though lyrically it feels deeper and more complex, very much at home on this record. It is an emotional, nostalgic piece, longing for simpler times, wishing for a second try to put things right. Tim’s lead vocals come piercing through in the second verse, lifting the song into a different dimension, before he joins with Jon in a perfect, soaring harmony.

And concluding the study, electricity rounds out the album with an appropriately retro, Beatlesesque feel, daring us to put our phones down and hang out, putting away the electronic world for the real electricity of human connection.

The whole album is a coherent and logical train of thought, dreamy and edgy yet challenging us to look within to begin to cross the distance we create between ourselves and others, bookended beautifully by its introduction and conclusion. The feel musically is very much in the same vein as the EPs Oh!, Eastern Hymns For Western Shores and The Edge Of The Earth, but with plenty of links to be found to the studio albums spanning their entire career all the way back to Chin.

To me, it feels like home from the opening notes; this is the album I’ve always known they were capable of, some of their best work previously hidden away on b-sides and EPs. I’d dreamed they’d make the album some day but never imagined they would, that whilst true to themselves it would be too much of an acquired taste to put out there. And yet, this is what they have done. And it is a masterpiece of careful craftsmanship and stunning artistry.

Switchfoot’s 2019 European tour

After saying goodbye to Switchfoot in 2017 I really wasn’t sure what the future held; I knew they were about to take a touring break (which became the hiatus… and which turned out to be the shortest hiatus on record), and that I was beginning to think about my own future plans, including perhaps starting a family. I wasn’t counting on seeing them again; they may not have come back from their break, at least in the same way, and if they had, I may not have had the freedom to so easily go and see them if I had a child.

However, less than a year on, a new album was already on the way! And earlier this year we found out both a baby and some form of European tour were too!

When the details emerged it sounded pretty much perfect for our circumstances; they would be over here primarily to tour with Bon Jovi, so would only be playing a few headline shows. I had said after 2017, as amazing as it was, that I would not want to try racing round after them to go to all their shows and not get down-time to explore the places we visited, but would prefer to do something more like we did in 2015, seeing as many shows as we could without overdoing it, and getting time to enjoy sightseeing and spending time with each other and friends. Add in pregnancy and I doubly did not want to be doing shows night after night. Three shows in a week sounded feasible. Ordinarily I may have gone to see one of the Bon Jovi shows in addition, but I was prioritising their own shows. I would pay so much to see Switchfoot, but I was less keen if it were just to be a short opening set for a band I am not much a fan of, knowing the ticket fare would not really be going to them, that I would be in the middle of a massive crowd, not get the usual small-venue interaction, and no chance to meet them, so it wasn’t my top priority), and the dates corresponded with the end of my second trimester, about the latest that I would consider going anywhere significant and about the point at which a last child-free holiday would be really welcome.

I bought tickets!

This time round, the whole experience felt so different. I did not feel the same build up of nervous excitement – my mind was on the baby. No pre-tour anxiety dreams about missed trains or not being able to find the venue. No bag-of-coffee-beans feelings. No butterflies. No hyperventilating. Just practical concerns about where would be safest for me to stand in the venues, and how often I’d be able to find toilets. So when we finally set off for London I was feeling pretty chilled, all things considered.

London, July 8th

The train was delayed. A signal failure had us trundling in on the slow line. Finally a tiny bit of the pre-concert anxiety began to rear up, but I reminded myself just how long it was till the VIP event started, and that we had easily enough time to get there, get lunch and get to the venue.

And it was true, we did! After a bit of stress trying to find our accommodation from what turned out to be an unhelpfully incomplete address we managed to check in, then got ourselves amazing vegan pizza and had some time to relax whilst we waited for the time to head out. Everything we needed was a really short walk, which made things much more relaxed. And I had brought with me what turned out to be a very useful tool – a walking stick with a fold out seat, which I could pull out whenever I needed to take the weight off my feet.

Eventually it was time to head to the VIP event and meet the guys – but first, an important task – mission Take-Icecream-To-Switchfoot was finally on, a long-held ambition and a difficult one to achieve!! I made a short detour via a good icecream shop, armed with a rather inadequate coolbag, and purchased some salted caramel and chocolate-hazelnut icecreams, plus some ice to try keep it cold, packed it into the cool bag, and got myself to the venue.

So many Switchfam were there and waiting!! It was great seeing them, many friends I had only previously met online, others I had met at previous shows.

Amazingly, everything ran to schedule! Erick greeted us exuberantly and had us come in and get our VIP passes, and then we waited in the foyer to be called through when the band were ready. They were just through there in the same space, separated from us only by a little crowd barrier, and we could just see them if we stood up by it! Tim spotted us and waved!

After a short wait (during which time they permitted us women a bathroom break, escorted up through the venue like it was a military operation!) they allowed us in and I was straight up to the middle of the crowd barrier at the front – carefully keeping myself facing them square on, and then hiding my belly behind the barrier so they didn’t notice my shape immediately! They greeted us and then Jon suggested they play Wonderful Feeling, since he had a wonderful feeling about the night. Yes! One of my favourites! It did sound gorgeous; however, they were testing the lighting at the same time and kept shining bright spotlights and strobes right in our faces, so badly I couldn’t look up at all. After the song Jon asked for ‘questions, comments, concerns?’ and I joked I was concerned about those lights! They laughed and said it was our turn to be in the spotlight! Thankfully the lighting got a bit more bearable after that. They played Awakening (awesome!!), We’re Gonna Be Alright (another favourite that I’d been desperate to hear live, they really should have it in their sets so everyone could clap along and I said so! They played it for a Mexican fan, seeing them for the first time and very emotional at finally having this chance, it was beautiful!), and Dark Horses.

After that it was time for photos, so we headed out to line up. I took with me the icecream bag, a letter, and a poster that had on it two arrows, one pointing up saying ‘your biggest fan’ and one down saying ‘your smallest fan’, which I held in front of me so the down arrow pointed to my bump. As I got closer to the front, Drew, who was nearest the queue, looked my way to see who was next in line. I was holding the poster already and he saw it, and this funny sequence of expressions passed over his face – first recognising me, then trying to read the poster, then confusion, then looking hard at the poster, then at me, then at the poster, then at my belly… then back at me and the poster and this priceless, grinning ‘WOW!’ reaction! That was brilliant! Then it was actually my turn, so I got to repeat that with the others. I was greeted with more excitement, congratulations and ‘well something’s changed!’ 😀

I gave them the icecream and Chad and Tim opened it 😀 I so hope it didn’t melt!!! Then I got a moment more with Jon and Romey whilst the others welcomed the next fans in, and Romey asked when the baby was due before I had to go. Fun!

I had time for a quick rest back at the hotel before heading out with M and friends for a burger from Camden Market before getting in line for the show. On my way back to the venue I suddenly found myself right behind Drew, also returning from the market! He was directly in front of me, but since I saw he was with family I hung back and just let him be rather than saying hi.

The show was ok for me; they were crazy good, but it was a bit intense being so pregnant! I couldn’t get to the good spot on the balcony I’d wanted as that was cordoned off for ‘real’ VIPs, so I ended up front row again! Although M was there, he took a spot further back to be with his friends, but one of my friends looked after me and helped me get to the bathroom between acts, and I could lean on the crowd barrier. I felt pretty good and was able to rock out so long as I didn’t go too crazy, but I had half a mind on the baby the whole way through so was a bit distracted from the show. Nevertheless it was awesome and very emotional 🙂

They stuck to the setlist, including playing an absolute killer of a Led Zep cover (wow Jon, you can yell!!), and Jon came up onto the crowd barrier right where I was several times! The scariest moment was when he crowdsurfed, and came back right over me. I tried to move aside but he came back to exactly where I was stood, and I ended up helping him back onto the barrier! Now, Jon I could cope with. Less so the burly security guy who followed him, and was not so graceful getting back over the barrier! I had to really back away to avoid getting kicked! But all was well; I managed to hold my space through the whole show and those directly around me were understanding enough to avoid pushing me. Jon took my flag up on stage for Where I Belong, throwing it back to me afterwards. Overall it was a beautiful, intense and surreal experience, and I just hope it wasn’t too much for baby!

I took my time leaving the venue this time, saying hi to more Switchfam friends and taking advantage of bathroom access, before heading out onto the street to await any aftershow announcements.

After a while of sitting on my folding stool, wrapped in a damp Where I Belong flag, refreshing Twitter, I got munchy, so M ran and bought me some chips… and of course that is when The Tweet arrived! Waiting on the food and then eating whilst walking, I ended up at the back of the crowd behind the venue. The driveway in was on a slope so in the end I set the stool up on the pavement just outside to wait. It began to feel rather like the previous London aftershow as the crowd was hyped and every time there was movement inside or a door opened there were squeals and laughter, and kit and vehicles had to keep coming through the crowd. Weirdly when the door finally opened again and it actually was Jon though I almost didn’t notice, as instead of a roar from the crowd he was greeted by a throng of people all desperate to talk to him.

He pushed through and stood opposite the venue, against a painted wall that at the time seemed to just have random colour splashes on it, but afterwards turned out to have been a mural of a night time city scene. From the back of the crowd I couldn’t catch most of what he said, but he did say he’d been in the shower in the venue and had heard the crowd outside singing as they waited for him, so he had to hurry up and get out without cutting himself shaving hastily!

He played us Caroline, Thrive, Twenty Four, and then as he wasn’t hearing my request for Let Your Love Be Strong, another person in the crowd helped me out by yelling it to him ‘for the pregnant lady!’. Might he actually play it..? He looked over the crowd to where we were and dedicated the song to ‘the three of us’… but then played Your Love Is Strong instead! Ah well! I love that one too.

The baby loved the aftershow I think; having been subdued during the concert, which was probably a bit loud and confusing for it, it danced all the way through Jon’s set. It clearly takes after its mum!

Afterwards I let him go; he was too far into the crowd and going the opposite way from me back to the venue, and was being pressed on all sides by fans wanting a moment with him, so M and I headed back to get some sleep. A surreal and precious evening.

Cologne, July 9th

Cologne was the very next day.

I’d had a choice when booking our trains out to either go for a 9am or 11am train. Now ordinarily I would have been on that 9am, getting us there in time for VIP. But the 11am gave us more time to rest and eat and take our time getting to the hostel and venue for the evening’s concert. Even that morning I was still keeping an open mind about whether to go or not, depending if I felt up to it. So we did that; no VIP this time, baby first. We picked up some fresh orange juice and sandwiches from the market and were on our way to the train, a short and pleasant walk from the hotel.

The Eurostar is fast and we were in Cologne by mid afternoon. Since we were not going to get much other sightseeing time there we walked to the hostel from the train. It was about a 45 minute walk, which is about as long as I can go at the moment without needing a bathroom stop, though baby wasn’t playing ball this time, forcing a sneaky pit stop at McDonalds for facilities! That apart, it was a nice walk and we saw some parts of the city we’d not seen before, including an imposing medieval gate house.

But after all the travel I was already pretty tired. Both of us pretty much crashed out on arriving at the hostel and it took a lot of effort to drag ourselves out again.

We picked up falafels and ate them in the queue for the show. It became apparent that this was a much smaller show than the previous night, and we were the only non German speakers there, which was awkward. My German may have improved a little since 2015, but I still can’t produce much of it or understand more than the basics of what is said to me, whilst M has never learnt 😦 The venue itself was very unusual; it was a literal church, in use as a music venue but still with all its fittings, even down to (moveable) pews, Bible verses on the walls and hymn number boards! Thankfully, pews had been cleared from the floor for the show however.

My feet were aching even before the band started, and I wasn’t allowed the folding stool in the venue, so I sat on the floor a bit before they came on, but I was still achey. I was second row, right in the middle, and there really wasn’t anything but the floor to support me there. It was going to be a physically tougher experience than the previous night.

If the venue wasn’t already a little weird, the show started weirdly too; Jon came out on his own to welcome us there! Then he brought on Erick (their photographer, who has a band of his own) to play us some songs as they had no official opener, which was nice, before beginning the show for real.

The intended setlist was pretty much identical to London’s, and sadly they clearly were not ready with the deep cuts they have promised for the fall tour, sticking with the same big hits. However, no two Switchfoot shows are ever the same, and I had never seen anything like this one!

To start with, the atmosphere was quite mellow. They opened with Take My Fire, then went into We Are One Tonight (not the last night of the tour this time, but it’s always special), then Love Alone, for which Jon actually stayed on stage rather than venturing into the crowd. In keeping with the laid back vibe they then played Live It Well and On Fire, then gave us Voices. Still the crowd seemed fairly passively engaged.

Then suddenly, about a third of the way through the set as they started to play Stars, it was as if a spark landed on fuel somewhere and the crowd just exploded; there was moshing and crowd surfing and people on shoulders and everything!! I’ve rarely seen that happen at all at Switchfoot’s shows before, certainly not to quite that extent, and the change in energy in the room was stunning! Feeling in danger of being pushed, I got out of the crowd at that point and went and perched on one of the benches at the side instead. Finally I could take the weight off my poor aching feet! I still had a good view from there, and I stood/danced on the bench from time to time.

Now the crowd was on fire they played us The Sound and Meant To Live, rocking out hard, with me dancing on the pews at the edge. Then they all headed into the middle of the crowd, intending to play All I Need. The crowd began singing Hello Hurricane, so they played that first, and then something else extraordinary happened; that entire crazy crowd just sat down around them! It was a true campfire moment!

Getting back up on stage they brought the energy back up once again, playing House Burns and Float (cue more pew dancing!), and again the crowd went wild. After that, Jon began to introduce Only Hope, but clearly changed his mind part way through introducing the song and decided to introduce I Won’t Let You Go instead. M, who had been rocking out at the front, came over and sat with me for that song; it was a really sweet moment, feeling we sang it as a family.

Native Tongue and Where I Belong finished off the main set, Jon beckoning for my flag once more and throwing it back to me at the end. Then the evening ended with an encore of Dark Horses and Dare, for which Jon went back into the crowd to play, again triggering the crowd to sit down! It really was the most extraordinary show though, I’ve not seen anything like it, neither such a departure from the planned set nor such an unusual and fun crowd!

Afterwards Jon walked us all away to this park way out from the venue for an aftershow, since the venue was in a residential area and had a strict curfew. It was a fairly scrappy piece of land, and it was very dark (so cue lots of comments about how beautiful it was!), but there were crickets singing and grass to set up on. Unlike the previous night, I got right to the front and set up the stool, which I’d retrieved from security, so I could sit down and still be able to see him play. Which was all good, until everyone else once again sat down!! So there I was, sat high on the Awkward Stool, right at the front with Jon, as if I was on stage! Embrace the awkward, as Jon says..! 😀

It was lovely though. He played us June & Johnny, Twenty Four (another fan asked for the story behind the song, which he told, and since I was up front I managed to tell him how amazed I was that as a young guy he had had the depth and wisdom to turn such a small incident into such a powerful and timeless song and to thank him for it, and he really gave me his attention), Inheritance and Only Hope. I sang along, trying to ignore how self-conscious I felt; after all, everyone knew I was sat up there for good reason! It was amazing just to be there and immerse in the music with him.

When the aftershow ended we had no idea where we were, so just followed him back to the venue from where we could get our bearings, and whilst I did no more than to thank him for the night and wish him all the best for the Bon Jovi shows, I got to listen as he talked philosophy and books with some other fans as they walked.

We returned to our hostel exhausted but happy.

Then we had a few days in Germany with friends, one of my favourite places I’ve been, near the Black Forest. We explored the beautiful town where they live, did some gentle walks from the trains up in the forest, rowed a boat on a mountain lake, and ate a lot of good icecream too.

Amsterdam, July 15th

Finally it was time for my last show in Amsterdam, M having had to head back home the day before to attend a conference. I stayed at a friend’s flat, this time also with tour buddy Jude, who had had to miss the previous shows due to a pre-booked holiday.

Now I’d seen Switchfoot twice before in London and once before in Cologne, but this year’s venues were new to me. However, they were playing at the Melkweg in Amsterdam again, the same venue they’d opened the 2017 spring tour at, so I was actually familiar with it.

The morning of the show Jude and I chilled out with our friend’s beautiful cats before heading into the city for lunch and the VIP event. I went back to the cafe I’d been to for lunch two years before for falafels and fried aubergines (though this time the aubergines did not accompany me to the concert!), and whilst in there we spotted Chad walking past on the other side of the street, just as we’d been speculating over whether or not we’d see any of the guys out and about! He actually looked our way but didn’t spot us!

The VIP event time had initially been shifted back, so having thought we had plenty of time we were taken aback when it was then shifted forward again at the last minute and we ended up in a rush to get there. But we made it, and so did almost everyone else! When we went in the guys took requests from the start. A Russian fan was there, again seeing them for the first time and really stoked, and he basically gave them his life story and a whole heap of requests. It was quite funny, especially when Jon asked Tim how many he reckoned he knew the words to and Tim responded ‘It’s a round number…’! I held up my Love Is The Movement raincoat in a last attempt to get that request in, but Jon said ‘I like your jacket’ and carried on taking requests! Tim laughed and said ‘He’s not ignoring you Helen, it’s just I don’t think we’ve ever played that one!’ But they played us Daisy and Needle and sounded fantastic.

Then it was time for meet and greet, so they led us through, to the locker area this time! I tried to go last as I had a few things I wanted to say, knowing it was my last show for the foreseeable future, but Jude lost a bag just as she was about to go up and ended up taking the last spot. It was my 24^th Switchfoot show, which felt significant, so I’d made a sign for the photo. As soon as Jon saw it he wrote 24 on his hand, so I quickly asked him did he read my letter I’d given them in London telling them how important Let It Happen has been for me, and if they were taking requests, could they play me that one please? I didn’t see him add that to his hand at the time, but later at the aftershow I saw it had been added. I asked them how the Bon Jovi shows had been going and was met with a general chorus of stoked noises! I didn’t catch a word any of them said, I’ll take it that was a good sign! I told them they looked like they totally owned those big stages from what I’d seen. We also chatted about how extraordinary the Cologne show had been. Then I told them the baby is my next adventure, so this show feels a little bittersweet as it will be a while before I can do this again. Jon said ‘It’s all sweet, no bitter’. But I shall miss them! Finally I asked Jon to draw me something for my new notebook, and he drew me a little guitar, I thanked him and all of them, and had to go.

After more falafels(!) it was time for the show. The stage in the Melkweg is very high instead of having a crowd barrier, so I really wasn’t keen on being at the front this time; it was a little uncomfortable the first time and definitely would be with baby on board, so I headed straight up to the balcony and this time got my chosen spot, a little corner by the lighting deck, at the back but right in the middle, with a great view and space to set up the stool to sit on without being in anyone’s way. As a useful bonus – the ladies’ was on the same level! 😀

This was going to be a very different experience from a new perspective.

LionLion opened for them again, as in London (and one of the 2017 shows). They are a great opener, and though they’d had to swap lead vocals as the singer was sick and their order of set was not quite so strong as the order they’d played their songs in at London, I still really enjoyed their performance.

As I was up by the lighting deck I could see a copy of the setlist as one was placed there. They switched it around a lot, though the end result was only one song different to the plan, just played in a different order.

Well. I don’t know if they read my letter the week before or not, but they did indeed play me Let It Happen! I’d told them I’d be a wreck if they did so please could they put it later in their set so I could work up to it, but they opened with it as they do! So of course, I was a wreck right from the off, yelling the lyrics at the top of my lungs and crying my eyes out! Quite a way to start!

A theme of the evening became ‘embrace the awkward’, a phrase Jon pulled out several times. He said he loves live music as you never know what’s going to happen, people could throw stuff at you… at which point Tim pulled out a pick and threw it at him! And so it went on!

There were many ‘beautiful and awkward’ moments. During Live It Well, when Jon introduced Romey as being cancer free to emotional applause, Jude, who was up front, pulled out her ‘Another year with Romey’ fundraiser t-shirt, and Jon took it up on stage. He got in the crowd as usual for Love Alone and Float, and did some balcony rail climbing, though he didn’t get as far as where I was stood. A guy in the crowd asked him if he could sing Hope Is The Anthem with him, and Jon broke from singing Float for a brief interlude of that to sing with him, even though he’d had it on the setlist to combine it with Where I Belong at the end. The guys all went into the crowd to play Hello Hurricane and All I Need acoustic, and when they started to head back to the stage, Tim was hoisted up by the crowd and crowdsurfed his way back – I don’t know if he asked or not but it was funny, especially watching Jon watching him! And of course, Jon had us all arms round shoulders with the ‘perfect strangers’ next to us.

I got a recording of their performance of Voices this time, I love how they do it live, especially Jon’s yell at the end. And he gave me a little shoutout for Twenty Four, saying he’d met someone who was at their 24^th show so it felt right that they play it. It was beautiful! I got my 24^th show sign out and held it up on the balcony rail and just soaked in it. I also held out the Where I Belong banner across the rail, and my old ‘Thank you Jon, you inspire me’ banner at the end. I don’t know if they saw them, I didn’t see Jon look my way, but it was there if he did.

Somehow Jon was just extra captivating that evening. I was better rested than in Cologne and had plenty of space up on the balcony and a great view, so it was really relaxed and I could just rock out and not worry. I was utterly mesmerised by their performance. It was pure wide eyed wonder!

There were a lot of tears too, probably partly the baby hormones but it all meant a lot to me. I was so up for more when it ended and wished they could have given us a proper encore. I left the venue still with tears streaming down my face from Dare You To Move.

After the show we waited about outside. The crowd was big so it took me a while to find anyone I knew! Even still, many people only waited a short time to see if there would be an aftershow, so the crowd had thinned by the time we got The Tweet. We all headed up the street back to the same bridge he had sung on two years previously. It was a bit of a wait and some of the fans began singing Amazing Grace, and we all joined in! Then a funny moment – a guy rocked up on a bike (naturally. Amsterdam.) wearing a comedy hat and carrying a halloween mask and rubber duckie on his back, and he stopped and chatted to the crowd for a while! No idea what that was about but it was entertaining!

Eventually Jon showed up and this time stopped short of the actual bridge (presumably as he didn’t want the crowd to block it). I ended up standing in the middle of the crowd this time. Erick came out with Jon again and livestreamed Jon from behind, looking at us all. Jon played Only Hope, Joy Invincible/We’re Gonna Be Alright, and Your Love Is A Song. It was so good, but I began to get uncomfortable standing in a small space and having to crane my neck to see, so I cheekily asked the guys in front of me if I could squeeze through to the front to put my stool out so I could sit, and they let me. No-one else was sitting down this time so all was well. Jon continued on, saying he wanted to stay right there and not have to leave, playing Inheritance, June & Johnny and Your Love Is Strong. But at some point my stool wobbled, and in trying to stabilise it I fell off, right in front of Jon and the internet! He was most concerned and kept asking if I was ok, but I was completely fine! Funny, and beautiful, and all the awkward! That little stool has caused some ‘moments’!

Afterwards I just managed to touch his arm and say thank you, and he asked again if I was ok and I reassured him I was. We were going to leave and head back to my friend’s flat but Jude wanted to go over to the bus to see the others so eventually we followed.

Jon came out again, clearly not ready to leave, and chatted some more to us and a few others who were waiting there, including chatting a little in Spanish with some Salvadorean fans. He said he’d been writing some more on this tour! Still under some kind of spell from that magical performance, my usual ‘hands off’ rule had gone entirely out the window and I gave him a little hug and told him I’d made a commitment on first seeing him live that I’d go to every show of his that I could from then on, and that I hoped to bring the baby along in person some day. Finally he headed back to the bus. The last one of them we saw was Chad. In a bizarre moment of deja vu we saw him inside the venue trying to get out and finding all the doors shut, an exact repeat of what had happened the previous time! He appeared a moment later from the other side of the venue and he congratulated me a last time and we said final goodbyes before leaving.

And that was that, a final(?) tour in the books! I headed home, my fan mania running so high. Tomorrow knows what tomorrow knows. 🙂

Native Tongue

Today Switchfoot are back from their (thankfully, in hindsight, hilariously short) hiatus with their eleventh full album, Native Tongue. I was treated to an advance preview as a volunteer music reviewer a couple of months ago, so I wanted to offer my personal review in addition to the official review I had published:

Put aside any preconceived ideas about what Switchfoot are about, or you will miss the point.

They’ve been around long enough they don’t have anything to prove to anyone.

Continuing what they started on ‘Where The Light Shines Through’ but taking it to new levels, this is a playful, creative, and highly accomplished exploration of sound. Every Switchfoot album is distinct in style, but this one promised a sonically disparate collection of songs and it certainly delivers! Influences on show span Queen, The Beatles, Coldplay and the White Stripes, the music of the Pacific islands, Celtic fringes and southern Africa, gospel, hair rock, hiphop, EDM and synth-rock, alongside styles they’ve already made fully their own, and full-on guitar solos nestle amongst layers of brass and strings. With WTLST they had experimented with different styles a little, let their influences show through here and there, and finally begun to show off their solo and improvisational skills a little, something they do effortlessly live but had always held back in the studio. But this takes that creative and experimental approach up a gear or two.

So let’s go:

The songs

The massive Let It Happen erupts euphorically over the soul in dramatic fashion. On the whole, the feel evokes 90s Britpop (something akin to The Verve); this is my era, my sound, and the passion it oozes brings me to tears of pleasure every time. And yet, they have worked into it a full-on Queen-esque solo!! I think they stole Brian May. Jon’s vocals are stunningly powerful as he voices our fears and anxieties yet entreats us to embrace the chaos and live in the now, as, paraphrasing Jesus, worrying about the future will not change it. This song has arrived in my life with perfect timing, the message exactly what I need as I feel myself walking into a new year that is going to shake my whole world up in many ways.

Let It Happen is followed by the similarly dramatic, infectious, drum-driven title track. Its message of remembering our origins in childlike love and acceptance is echoed by the tribal feel of the sound. The danceable beat gives way unexpectedly to a quietly moody outro, evoking the best of their b-side work. The message is good, but here is my concern – don’t we all think we are motivated by love? None of us identify as ‘the haters’. We just differ in our views of love. And when someone seems to be attacking your view of love, you get defensive, hence our divisions. Telling us to love is not sufficient; we need to learn to listen across those divides to understand the love position of The Other somehow… I have to listen in context of what I have heard Switchfoot speak about more explicitly about listening to one another across our divides and working from our common ground to fully understand what they mean here. It’s all too easy to simply extol the virtues of being nice to those we come into contact with, whilst shying away from politics because it is difficult, thus allowing the terrible things happening in our world go ahead unchallenged. Taken alone, I fear this song could reinforce that idea, but in context of Switchfoot’s example of trying to listen to and understand The Other before jumping in with our own views, I know it’s much bigger.

Next we reach the beating heart of the album – the beautiful, soulful, spiritual All I Need. The vocals here are gorgeous, and there is a bit of a Celtic feel to the melody (though not the sound, which is big-production Switchfoot). Developing the theme of what really matters in life previously explored in If The House Burns Down Tonight, the song forms the unifying thesis of the album around which the other songs seem to hang. Its central heart-on-sleeve question feels exposed and vulnerable.

After this, the edgy, bass-driven hiphop of Voices changes up the sound again. It explores anxiety, especially in a world with lots of information and opinions jostling for our attention, and how we are all so full of ‘voices’ of our own on the inside too, all our doubts and insecurities that can so fill our heads when our minds are not well. I will be honest, though I like it enough, this track low-level irritates me – but there has been at least one on every album and to a greater or lesser extent I always get over it*! I spent a while trying to think what it reminds me of, and eventually hit on it – Justin Timberlake!! Sorry. 😀 But the backing harmonies are lovely, and the use of a ticking clock sound at one point is spot on, and soundwise it does connect back to earlier work, most notably parts of Vice Verses. The song was released back in November, and the music video is a work of art that adds so much to the song itself, really bringing all its angst to the fore and lifting the music. It manages to be poignant, creepy and humorous all at once, and is really visually creative.

Dig New Streams sounds uncannily like it escaped from the Beatles’ Sgt Pepper’s** and somehow found its way to Switchfoot, quirky, trippy, and packed with awesome riffs, solos and changes of pace and time. It’s so accurate it made me laugh out loud in amazement that they could have pulled this off! I need to live with these lyrics a little more, but I hear Jesus again, this time throwing a lifeline to those hurt by our religion, and it’s certainly the most original of the album.

Joy Invincible’s soft vocals are luscious. This track has an electronic vibe, a huge sonic soundscape that would fill a club, and nice guitarwork under the ending. It’s very moving, and I would love to know the back story.

It leads nicely into the raw and passionate Prodigal Soul. A raw, acoustic opening becomes full band plus strings; it feels vulnerable, and a bit Coldplay, as Jon finds himself identifying with the homecoming son of Jesus’ famous parable.

Next stop on this musical mystery tour is the full-on EDM of The Hardest Art, blending elements of 80s electronica with bang-up-to-date synth rock – and do I detect a touch of Abba?! Guest vocalist Kaela Sinclair takes the second verse, and for just a moment as their voices join together in a gorgeous acoustic interlude there are echoes of Jon’s solo work. The repeated refrain ‘the hardest art is love is surrender is love is the hardest art’ is stirringly anthemic and I cannot help singing it out. And then, something uniquely precious to my ears – the track closes with a touch of soaring guitar that sounds remarkably like Stu G (think the close of Delirious?’s Obsession)! I have goosebumps…

The deliciously laid-back, piano dominated Wonderful Feeling comes next, another track strongly influenced by The Beatles, particularly with its unconventional chord progressions and build up. Jon’s vocals are incredible once again, as again he demonstrates seemingly effortless vocal control, moving back and forth between forceful expression and pretty falsetto, and we are also given another guitar solo, this time more in the relaxed style of George Harrison.

And then another twist, as the unexpected, heavy, headbanging riff of Take My Fire crashes in. Jon’s voice now sounds classic-rock rugged, and though you can tell Hendrix isn’t far away, this is definitely born of the White Stripes’ school of 21st-century rock. The bluesy feel and spiritual theme also made me think of Verra Cruz, another of my favourite bands but too little known to be an influence.

All jangling guitars and lush harmonies in 6/8, The Strength To Let Go has a Celtic, folky thing going on again, but again this is big-production, big-sound CCM. By the time we reach the heartfelt ‘I am lightning and You are the ground!’ it really feels like a Rend Collective classic! But we are treated to a little ‘ha!’ of Jon’s early on, which I couldn’t help but smile on hearing.

Oxygen is a vulnerable and gentle soft rock ballad featuring slide guitar. It’s left me wondering where such a powerful break up song has come from, especially as it so accurately captures the unreal sensation of losing something (or someone) you had come to depend on, but it’s a tear jerker that is going to hold close folks going through loss and break up.

We’re Gonna Be Alright follows, blending global musical influences and an immensely fun bass riff in a similar vein to When Was The Last Time (minus the arcade game midi), and definitely recalling Michael Franti both in style and content. Appropriately for a piece about reassurance, the vocals have the intimate quality of a father whispering into the ear of a child. You can’t help but feel it. I hope this makes it into their live sets; I can see it already, everyone clapping along and singing the chorus together.

You’re The One I Want closes this eclectic album with a simple piano and cello love song; it feels like it connects right back to The Legend Of Chin somehow even in the vocal style, but now everything has grown up – a resolution of the early relationship angst, a certainty, a maturity of understanding, and the grungy vocals of a song like You have mellowed into this soft warmth.

The production throughout Native Tongue is stunning, the sound layered and full, every element carefully placed, and it sounds made for vinyl.

My perspective

I think after three albums now I can finally state that Jon’s writing style has changed; prior to this I would not want to have called a change where he could merely have been experimenting with something different, especially without any sort of timeline given for The Wonderlands songs, many of which are typically deeply layered, poetic and philosophical in keeping with Jon’s previous and well known style. But that aside, we’ve seen very little of that since Vice Verses now, and I doubt we’re in for any more gravitational entropy waves. There’s still depth to his themes, and his intellect and prophetic gift are still in evidence, but his writing is so much simpler, more straight-up, and his focus has shifted to rhyme and to creating anthems a crowd can sing out together. Native Tongue, like Fading West and WTLST, is dominated by the strongly-rhyming, hiphop-influenced songwriting that has characterised much of his recent work.

It’s very much a Christian album, the story of a ‘prodigal soul’ finding home in the love of God. Themes from the Gospels shine through strongly, as does the real-life journey of an artist who has spent 20 years wrestling with a sense of being far from home and out of place finally discovering home, both spiritually and in a very earthly sense with his own family. In this respect it feels very introspective and focussed on close personal relationships with family and God, rather than looking outwards to the wider context of our lives in the world.

It’s also their least angsty album to date, lacking their usual lyrical bite, which in such truly angsty times I find a bit hard to swallow. There’s much that will appeal to the American church here, and little to challenge it. With no space given for lament or any encouragement to take a stand it’s not speaking to the current climate for me, but perhaps I haven’t arrived yet myself? Or perhaps it simply underlines the difference between my truth-to-power approach and Switchfoot’s approach of bringing people together into a safe space, both of which are valid and needed in these times.

Perhaps there’s no way back from here and this sense of home to the kind of songwriting that wrestles with the depths – but nor do I wish it on Jon, as I know he’s written those angstier songs from painful experience and he sounds like being in a good place now. That genuinely gives me joy. The songs are clearly written from the heart and I would rather they continue to do that than to write the sort of songs I would have them write. They don’t owe me anything! And these lyrics will doubtless push and challenge me in new ways and find different parts of my life to embed in, just as Let It Happen is doing already.

But they are home. It’s very much a celebration of that.

And it’s all about the music; they certainly can’t be accused of stagnation or of selling themselves short in any way, they’ve thrown it all in there. The range of styles is going to divide opinion, but there’s little doubt it’s a musical masterpiece. In my ‘official’ review I rated it 9/10; this is because although I truly mean that, and it’s perfectly produced (without being overdone, which they’ve been guilty of at times in the past), the range of styles is going to be too broad to appeal to everyone. And it doesn’t have so much in the way of the thought-provoking lyrics I fell in love with Switchfoot for, so I can’t see it being an album I personally live and breathe, that becomes a part of me and helps me engage with the world in the same way as most of their work to date.

For me, it feels a little like listening to the Fiction Family album rather than Switchfoot (though I must emphasise that the sound is still very much Switchfoot not Fiction Family!) – even aside from the fact that that’s previously been Jon’s outlet for his Beatlesier side, it’s musically brilliant but I don’t connect so deeply with most of the lyrics, and you just don’t know what they’re going to pull out next, it’s full of surprises! I feel like that’s where it will sit for me, being enjoyed obsessively when I’m in the right frame of mind for something a bit eclectic as with Fiction Family, rather than being chewed over regularly and meditated upon like a typical Switchfoot album. Because of this I’ve found it hard to rate relative to their other albums. I think I’d say I like it better than Fading West (though that one has such a feel-good sunshiney vibe it probably has the highest play!), though quite a bit less than WTLST, which gave me favourite song after favourite song and, though had its evident influences, simply sounded like Switchfoot showing their own versatility.

I am wowed by their soloing on this album – but they do so here largely in the style of other artists. So whilst they reveal their skills to an impressive extent, we still haven’t had much from the studio of Jon and Drew’s own original mighty improvisational solo styles, which so captivate us live. They remain an elusive treat for those of us who get to see them on stage! But they leave you in no doubt here of their capability. Go see them live if you get the chance!

Bringing in very strong elements of other artists’ sounds also runs the risk for me of triggering my low replay tolerance for many of these other artists, who I can enjoy from time to time in small doses but who will quickly begin to grate on my nerves if I play them too much. Switchfoot have never yet made anything that doesn’t become irritating on repeat for me, and that’s unique, but that has possibly relied on them sounding entirely like themselves.

That said, however many elements they have borrowed from other artists, it’s still very much Switchfoot. Every track has its roots in earlier material somewhere I can trace it back to, and however diverse these songs are they certainly don’t feel disconnected from previous albums. Nor do the tracks feel disconnected from each other. Diverse they may be, but it feels as deliberately crafted as I know it was, every track standing in sharp contrast to its neighbours. And though the sound changes constantly, the lyrical themes are very consistent, perhaps more so than ever, which considering Switchfoot have always crafted albums around strong themes is impressive.

And it really is a joy; I’m very proud of them and glad they’ve finally made this collection, something they’ve hinted at doing for some time now. It’s great to hear what they have been capable of all along. It’s a homecoming.

 

*It’s happening already; M came home the other night to find me playing it loud and stomping round the kitchen to it, so I think it’s winning! 😀

**M says Abbey Road. He is quite correct. 😀 😀

 

Implicit worship

Fake News Of The Week amongst the Switchfam was this satirical article from the Babylon Bee, ‘Switchfoot release implicit worship album’.

It provoked mixed reactions – but I have to admit, I laugh-snorted!  The article does have a dig at Jon’s writing style – it’s fair enough, except that he’s a lot more versatile and varied than is implied – but the classier dig is at the likes of me, who actually really get a lot out of that sort of songwriting. It’s bang on, and a proper ‘ouch!’.

The piece actually nailed so much of what I love about Switchfoot. And that got me thinking, why is that? I’m passionate about worship, yet this article shows me that ‘implicit worship’ is something I’m really behind. ‘Implicit worship’ sounds like a bad thing. Shouldn’t our worship be explicit? Shouldn’t we be saying it like we mean it? Are we not..? Here’s where my thoughts led me:

Firstly, I think we are. Being explicit is good and there’s a place for that, and you’ll find it within Switchfoot’s repertoire as well as in my own life.

But worship is more than singing praise songs. Worship is whole life. It would quickly become dry and meaningless if all we did were state our praise in words, especially in words that had been said many times before to the point of cliche, just as we do not live our personal relationships entirely through love songs. Worship cannot be words alone. Music helps it to stir our emotions, but that in itself is not enough. Worship must touch our whole lives, turn around our entire way of life. We need to be able to bring the whole of life and experience to God, engage with God there, allow ourselves to be challenged and changed and reshaped and motivated to act, and then go out and live it in God’s general direction. Simply singing ‘I love You Jesus’ songs has its place, but will not fulfil that whole purpose. Those songs I will use in church when we all need to be able to sing something simple together, and in moments when that is exactly what I need to express, but are not the sorts of songs I carry with me day to day, that help me work out how to be a better follower of Jesus in the everyday situations I find myself facing. They are not the songs that stretch and broaden my understanding and deepen my awe of God. For me, Switchfoot’s music takes me to those deeper places, the places that help me wrestle life and faith together and work through how to walk it out in the world I’m living in.

Implicit worship. Worship that involves the trajectory of my life, not merely my words. It’s precisely why someone like myself will connect more with songs of the sort the article pokes fun at, such as Stars, than with their more straightforwardly ‘explicit’ material, like new single You Found Me. They are the songs that go deep in my life, that I walk with over the years, that make me think, and change me, slowly, into something a little more Christlike, as they help me figure out what a faithful response to the world I live in might look like. Switchfoot’s music won’t do that for everyone, if it’s not to your taste or the way you think, but it does for many of us who connect with it.

And music has a purpose beyond explicit praise too, even for Christians believe it or not. And that’s an important factor to understanding the Foremans’ ethos. Switchfoot’s aim is not to be a church worship band. They are artists, making the music that expresses what is on their hearts, purely for the sake of that authentic expression. Music has value in itself. Its value is not just in ‘worship’ music. That is no higher or more spiritual than any other music. Music helps us to make sense of the big stuff, where we can turn with the things we don’t understand. Where we can experience feeling, and mystery, and wonder. That is as important to the Christian journey as singing praise songs, if not more so, and God, and good, can be found in any kind of music or art, labelled ‘Christian’ or otherwise. There is more to the human existence to experience and express than just the religious bits, and God wants to be involved in it all. We are made creative beings in God’s image, so simply using our creative capacity for any artistic expression is itself a godly act. God does not need to be excluded if we choose to use that art to express say our romantic feelings for another person or our frustration with politics or struggles with depression for example. God is present. And in music we can explore how to handle those situations faithfully. That too is worship, lived out.

So ‘implicit worship’ need not be a negative. It’s not about being ashamed or embarrassed of Jesus. Switchfoot are more than happy to speak openly about their faith and to publicly call themselves Christians, as am I. If we couldn’t bring ourselves to talk openly about Jesus at all we’d certainly have a problem. So too if I thought Switchfoot were trying to hide their faith to gain popularity amongst non-Christians. But that’s not their game. Theirs is just a different approach to both music and to worship than that of a ‘worship band’. Their calling is to make honest music. ‘Worship’ is not explicitly their aim, any more than it is mine when I go to work. Yet every day on my way to the office I’m praying for God to use me and my work that day. I’m not about to start a praise party in the office, and neither should we expect it of Switchfoot just because music is involved, but it is all worship nonetheless.

I don’t want my worship to be limited to the occasions I am singing praise songs. I want my whole life to imply worship. And long may there be music in our lives that moves us to live that way!

Oh blessed…

At this time of year, with Switchfoot having toured here this same week in both 2015 and 2017, I’m unavoidably drawn into the memories, reliving all those powerful experiences. There are two experiences within all of that that really stand out; one, really connecting with Jon for the first time at the end of the 2015 tour, when for the first time I felt my fan-love was accepted. The other, that dark night in 2017, the shadow that proved the sunshine of the rest of the year, when I missed Jon play an impromptu solo show at BCDO South, because it happened at 10pm in the chapel, and I wasn’t allowed onto that part of the site till 10:30pm, and depression and anxiety won out.

Add in Switchfoot’s current hiatus, and that was a heady mix of feelings to be carrying when the opportunity arose to go to BCDO South again this year. To begin with I really wasn’t sure I wanted to go. It’s previously felt a bit of an odd evangelical Christian bubble, isolated from reality in more ways than one. There were artists I did want to see, but did I want to see any of them enough to cross the country for? It’s a long way, and the costs would add up. And then, no Switchfoot. It would be the first time I’d gone there without them. Would I want to be faced with all those memories in their absence?

However. I have a second favourite band.

I could never really claim to have ever been a megafan of Delirious?; nonetheless, they’ve been a really big deal to me right from my introduction to them, at a signing in a local record store in early 2000. I ended up front row as they played, lead singer Martin Smith climbing onto the gear cases I was squashed up against and even standing on the CD of theirs I had just bought in the process! I was hooked by their engaging and energetic performance and big sound, and let’s admit it, those dark eyes..! The CD thankfully survived, so I lined up for the signing. I was 16, had never met anyone famous before, and they’d made quite an impression on me; I was starstruck, and they didn’t really have time for me. Ah well. It was amazing!

That was the beginning of the journey. Delirious? were immediately my second band (first place initially going to another band before Switchfoot well and truly won my heart), and over the next few years I followed them avidly. At the time I knew no greater high than the Delirious? post concert rush. In those early days I’d not learned what to do with my heart; I gave it all to my top two bands, obsessing to a crazy extent, finding out everything I could about them, and yet not really giving them a lot to show for it (of course, pre social media, that was a lot harder anyhow…). It wasn’t long before I figured this was unhealthy and that I needed to get things in perspective and focus on God. As a result, I reined it right in. As my love for Switchfoot grew, I swore I’d not be the same with them, that I’d pay them as little attention as possible, and just enjoy the music and focus my heart on God. I didn’t know their names, I wasn’t on their mailing list, I avoided their website, and I never saw them play live. Yet, I loved them more and more, and found God at work through what they do.

Delirious? and Switchfoot fitted perfectly together in those days for me: Switchfoot are American, Delirious? British; Delirious? I used to see a couple of times a year, and yet I never dared see Switchfoot till 2011; my Switchfoot obsession is centred around Jon Foreman and his lyrics and vocals, Delirious? It was always Stu and Stew and their amazing guitar and drums. Delirious? had a cheese-factor Switchfoot never did, yet soloed in a way Switchfoot at least never did in the studio. I’ve long felt almost as at home in Stu’s guitar tones as I do in Jon’s voice. Over the years their respective songs Come Like You Promise and Dare You To Move have both jostled for the position of favourite favourite song (Dare’s been ahead for some time now, but the former holds the endurance record!). Both bands inspired and challenged me with their lyrics (though Switchfoot more so), and I loved their music. Delirious? met my need for a band I could follow, ‘get to know’, and enjoy live, since I’d begun that way with them, whilst something even deeper was at work with Switchfoot.

I got hold of Switchfoot’s Nothing Is Sound and Delirious?’s The Mission Bell at the same time in 2005; I remember being struck straight away by the similar feel of even the cover art, but even before playing them I read through the lyrics to both. Goosebumps. These were powerful words that engaged with the world in all its brokenness, met me where I was, and inspired me to act to make it better. It excited me, and I knew I’d found my place musically.

And yet somehow something went wrong. As I journeyed into megafandom of Switchfoot, and then Jon Foreman more generally, somehow I began to take Delirious? for granted. They were always around. I didn’t even have to make the effort, sooner or later they’d be playing near me. There’d be the same old songs, the same amazing solos, the same goofing around and forgetting lyrics by Martin, that same high afterwards… The last time I saw them was at Greenbelt festival in 2007. I was tired after a long day, and they were playing a similar set to the last few shows of theirs I’d seen. I left half way through to get some rest.

To this day I don’t know what happened*, but the next thing I knew of them they were finishing their final tour. All that time I’d followed them, and been on their mailing list, and known everything about them, and somehow I’d missed their final album, split and last tour. Stew Smith had even been the first to leave the band some time before the end, and Stu G had emigrated to the USA. I was shellshocked and heartbroken. When I got hold of that final album, Kingdom Of Comfort, and discovered it to be up there with my all-time favourite albums, full of the most powerful lyrics, and made for the big stage, I was even more devastated to have missed that closing chapter. I had been a truly terrible fan!

Delirious? left a hole in my heart – both the pain of that bad ending, and the lack of a band to follow. The result? Throwing myself full into my love of Switchfoot, knowing now what I stood to lose, and embracing the megafandom for what it was. The rest of that story I’ve already told of course.

So, here I am in 2018. A decade without Delirious? and though time had softened the pain, I still felt their absence from my life and all my regrets. Meanwhile, I’d spent the past few years learning what it means to love (verb!) an artist, how to be a good fan whilst keeping things in perspective, how to give back, what it can mean to them too to do so, how to build connection. After what Switchfoot’s 2015 tour taught me, I realised I needed to learn from that with other artists too, and that included seeking out what Stu G was up to these days, getting onto his mailing list and social media, and finally showing up as a fan there too.

And now – Stu was coming to the UK to play BCDO (the festival spearheaded by Delirious? keyboard player Tim Jupp), and Martin was also on the programme, along with a few other artists I also liked, including Verra Cruz, also up there amongst my favourite bands. Ok, no more terrible fan. I booked, I went!

We arrived Saturday morning, pitched the tent in blazing sunshine, picked up a programme, and discovered that Stu G was playing almost immediately, so dashed over to catch his set. And oh wow! We arrived just as he started playing Delirious?’s Bliss, and despite him playing at the very civilised Tearfund Tea Tent, with most of the rest of the crowd sat at tables enjoying cream teas, we ran to the front and danced like it was 1999!

Although there as a solo artist, he had a band with him so was able to give us the epic, atmospheric rock he’s always done best, all smiles and clearly in his element. Bliss was followed by the moody solo hit King Of The Stars, the first time I’d seen this live and it was stunning. He then talked a bit about his Beatitudes project; for the past few years he’s been exploring, both practically and through musical collaborations, what the blessings of Jesus mean for us today, resulting in an album, book and film, all of which I can thoroughly recommend. He said that he had found the beatitudes to be less a list of targets to strive for, more a set of promises about how ‘God is on your side at the bottom of life’. And he played the opening song of the project, Oh Blessed, on acoustic guitar, having us sing the title lyric with him. It sounded lovely. Then switching back to electric we were treated to In The Middle from the same project, lyrically powerful and with the kind of heavy riff that Delirious? had been known for. And then, a precious gift – he played the song Kingdom Of Comfort! It sounded as amazing live as I’d always imagined it would, but never thought I’d get to experience. After effectively giving up some of my favourite songs for lost, to finally hear one of them was very healing. And he ended with Delirious?’s Investigate, as epic and soaring as it ever had been, Stu producing a killer solo and reminding me that he is still one of the very best guitarists out there. He looked really happy to see us enjoying it all, throwing a lot of smiles in our direction. Wow! What a way to start a beautiful weekend.

Afterwards he was selling CDs and his new book about the beatitudes Words From The Hill, so I thought I could make up for a lot of missed opportunities and bad fandom by getting hold of them. So I did, and he came out to meet us, and I got the book signed! It was so good to finally meet him ‘properly’; I got to tell him about how I’d been a massive Delirious? fan, had really missed them, how special it was hearing those songs again, and especially Kingdom of Comfort, and told him he was still my favourite guitarist. He was so touched both by our rocking out and my story! And whilst I was speaking, he signed the book:

Oh my gosh! I may actually have put things right finally…

We saw another couple of bands, and then it was time for Stu G’s second set of the day, also at the Tea Tent. As he was setting up, Martin Smith came up and chatted with him, and there were smiles and hugs between them, and he even helped Stu set up the stage. That made my heart happy! This time Stu kicked off with Delirious?’s Sanctify, which sounded huge. There was a funny moment at the end as he had to sing the line ‘The cloud’s getting bigger now’; he paused, looking up at the perfect clear blue sky with a grin on his face, and sang it with a questioning tone, which made us laugh! Then he gave us Inside Outside, a Delirious? song that he’d always taken lead vocal on, it was great to hear this one live. Then we rocked out through Bliss and King Of The Stars again before having to leave and dash over to the Illuminate stage for the awesome Verra Cruz, whose set clashed disastrously with his! Seriously, that guitar work..!

We got word that Kari Jobe, on Mainstage that evening, would have some special guests 😉 So we rounded off an amazing day of live music at her set. And yes, something precious happened; part way in, she invited Stu and Martin up on stage together to play the old Delirious? worship hit Did You Feel The Mountains Tremble with her! She took the second verse, but it felt like old times, as though I was a 17 year old again at Alton Towers… I was struck by both the immediacy of the memories, and the power those words still hold.

Finally, we also found out that Stu was rounding off his time at the BCDO by showing a premier of his beatitudes film A View From The Hill… At 10:30pm, by candlelight, in the chapel!!! :O

I was so torn. I had sworn to myself and my friends that I wasn’t going to go near that chapel, leave last year’s memories where they were. Of course I wasn’t going to go there. But now… I really felt I should go, as support for Stu, and I felt God wanted me to, that somehow this had been deliberately set up…

So. I did.

I picked a flower to take with me on the way, giving a kick to the gate that had barred my way a year before, as we passed straight through this time. My first thought was that I was taking the flower for Jon, as a way to sort of say ‘I’m so sorry I wasn’t there for you. I’m here now.’

Then I thought it was like laying flowers at the site of a tragedy to remember and leave beauty in its place…

The chapel was beautiful. I laid the flower by a pillar when we arrived. Stu saw us come in and recognised us and gave us a huge smile!! The film was so deep and powerful. I loved it almost as much as 25in24 and the messages and atmosphere of both fit really well together. It’s gorgeously shot, and follows his journey of discovery with Jesus’ words as he met those living them out and experiencing God’s presence in places of suffering, marginalisation, stories of mercy, or as they sought to bring peace and justice or stand in solidarity with the struggling. Interspersed, it also showed the creative process he went through with a host of other artists (including Audrey Assad, Matt Maher, Martin Smith, Propaganda and Michael W Smith) to craft an album of songs inspired by each blessing.

It occurred to me – that flower was also a thank You gift for God!

Far from feeling like a place of pain, I felt so much peace and presence and healing there. It was such a redemptive experience being there with my next favourite artist, showing him support and being inspired. God was definitely in it.

Stu took questions at the end, and M asked him about his experiences of challenging consumerism in the church, ‘holy troublemaking’ with the messages of songs like Kingdom Of Comfort, when it so often seems like consumerism must never be questioned, even within the church where people seem as trapped by it as anywhere else, when Jesus calls us out of it and to speak truth to power. Afterwards I went over to Stu and thanked him for being there and all he’d done that day and over the years, told him how much I loved the film, and we were able to thank him for being the highlight of a wonderful day. And everything had come full circle. We walked back to the tent with storm clouds flashing dramatically on the horizon.

My heart was content and my mind buzzing. This day had been such an unexpected story of healing and redemption! I’d arrived missing Switchfoot, missing Delirious?, and carrying the pain from both the previous year’s trauma and my unresolved ending with band #2. Suddenly all was well, and God had brought me face to face with it all and met me right where it had hurt, and made something truly beautiful out of it the way God excels at doing best.

‘Blessed are those who mourn, for they will be comforted’

The following day we saw even more great music, and enjoyed even more hot sunshine. The previous day we had met Marc from Verra Cruz after their set and I’d got to thank him and tell him that their album Emancipation Day was one of my all-time favourites too, and today a band new to us, Trinity, made the first move, coming to meet and greet their audience as we arrived for their set. They turned out to be great fun, interacting with the crowd to a Switchfoot extent, and showing themselves to have big hearts, so again we bought a CD and got to meet and thank them too.

Finally, the weekend was rounded off with a Mainstage set from Martin Smith. Accompanied by members of his band Army Of Bones and his daughter Elle Limebear, he opened with the refrain from Delirious?’s Our God Reigns. He got us all going with God’s Great Dancefloor, it seemed like everyone was jumping from the front to the back, and just when it seemed like it had finished, he decided to do it all again, pulling a group up on stage to dance, and from his grins it was clear he was having a great time with it, it was so much fun! Elle lent her beautiful lead vocals to Waiting Here For You, then Martin ditched his jacket and launched into Oh Praise The Name, spliced with Army Of Bones’ Love Song For A City and some powerful yelling. Oh how I’d missed those Martin yells! Then another special moment; Martin thanked the man whose dream had created BCDO in the first place – former Delirious? key player Tim Jupp, bringing him onstage to big applause and playing their very first song (and the song I had at my baptism), Thank You For Saving Me, together once more. Martin and Elle sang their latest single Jesus Only You together, which was stunning, before moving into a truly epic Come Holy Spirit. Finally, having given us Delirious?’s first song, Martin ended his set with their last song, My Soul Sings. Wow. Oh wow. Another from Kingdom Of Comfort, another I thought I’d never see live. And this song…

I tear up almost every time listening to Kingdom Of Comfort; I hear them signing out all the way through it in the lyrics and the music. It feels like a triumphant climax of an amazing career, finally embracing themselves for who they really were and telling it like it is, but also saying goodbye. And what a perfect ending that song is. If you don’t know it, give it a listen here so you can see where I’m coming from here; in my head, what happens in the music at the end of the song, and album, and band, is this: They are worshipping away, when the clouds part, and heaven opens and smiles down on them, and then they are lifted up and ‘fall into the sky’, and for a while the whole sky resounds with the song of heaven… up and up, and eventually they are lost from our sight, and the clouds roll back in… and then we hear the heavenly portal close behind them. The End. Fanciful perhaps, but there’s closure in those closing bars, and it still gives me chills. And for this old Delirious? fan, there could be no better way to close out such a special weekend, reliving the journey, than this soaring worship epic. It moved me to tears.

I’d intended to stay for Matt Redman rounding out the festival, but that was enough. I felt like after all these years I’d finally got to see another Delirious? concert. Sure I’d known that three of them would be there, it was even the main reason I’d been there, but I hadn’t anticipated anything like this. I totalled it up; we’d seen them play 9 different songs between the three of them over the course of the weekend, one song off each album bar my least favourite, and two from Kingdom Of Comfort. Deliberate..? Certainly healing. And it occurred to me; Delirious? the band are no more, and yet the music is still alive. I can trust God with it. I can trust God with Switchfoot, through all the current uncertainty. We headed off for some tea, hearing Matt’s set drifting over the site as we did, and then the sky was lit up both with celebratory fireworks, and God’s own fireworks from distant storms on the horizon once again. What a weekend!

No regrets. That was perfection.

I even wonder, did I enjoy it more without having to worry about bumping into Switchfoot, finding VIP check-ins or missing aftershows, or even having every performance after theirs feel like a beautiful letdown in comparison?! Maybe so…

So, my take-home message from my adventures in fandom? Artists matter, and God loves fan-love. Don’t take them for granted. Don’t allow yourself to fall so heavily into an obsession they obscure your view of God or get in the way of your personal relationships or the important work of your life, don’t become stalkerish (give them space, and stay out of all parts of their personal lives unless they themselves choose to share with you), don’t develop a reliance on them. But don’t run the other way. Enjoy what they do, go see them, support them, buy their music, their tickets, their merch, let them see your support, create a real, healthy artist-fan relationship; the blessings run both ways. Yes, I still make mistakes and probably always will. But I’m learning!

*Ok, somewhere in there I failed a PhD, got married, and discovered Verra Cruz and Jon Foreman’s Seasons, but even still, no excuse!

Dreams

Dreams are very odd things. One week recently I had a whole series of particularly bizarre ones every single night, which I feel I need to share:

1 – The scene: some sort of stately home. A robber breaks in and demands money of everyone present. Being scared he might search us and get violent if he finds we’ve held any back, we search wallets and hand over £10 notes. But he is also… an entomologist. And he also wants any dead bees we happen to have on us. And we do happen to have a couple to hand. So we give them to him, along with the cash. And then we see him outside after he’s robbed us, looking round the garden for more. (?!?!) ‘Your money and your bees!’ 😀
2 – The scene: a beach somewhere. My husband is tasked with hosting a fundraising dinner. It is banana curry because it has to be Fairtrade. The bananas are whole and unpeeled, and for some reason we need to do a photo shoot of the whole bananas being poured out of something (a teapot..?!) onto this curry.
3 – I’m trying to navigate a city, which is supposed to be Birmingham but is full of imposing and awe-inspiring medieval buildings with tall walls all coloured in reds and blacks, including streets that begin in the open but become interiors as you go down them. I get lost because Birmingham doesn’t usually look like this (for reference, Birmingham is not a medieval city at all!), and end up having to wade through a water feature where objects placed in it eventually get turned to stone (it wasn’t dangerous, you’d have to stand in it for years…) including walking over the back of a crocodile sculpture…! 😀
4 – I’m in Birmingham again apparently!! But it’s not the medieval one this time, it looks more like the real thing. But we have to infiltrate some company HQ to sabotage… something. I’ve no idea what. And it involves going undercover via a Chinese restaurant. And awkwardly after we’ve succeeded in our mission, we end up eating out there and trying not to get recognised…

And then a dream in which we had to drive up a flight of steps in some seaside town, and another in which I met a very oversized cat, and yet another toilet-anxiety dream (I confess this is a recurring theme!) involving all-too-public and laughably non-functional loos… I began to wonder what I’d been eating!

But even with all this going on somewhere in the recesses of my brain, it’s the other sort of dream I’ve been thinking about more this year, the sort that keeps you awake at night instead.

It began in earnest on February 24^th. Back in 2015, my hero Jon Foreman had fulfilled a bizarre dream of his own by playing 25 shows in 24 hours around his hometown, and in the process created something far greater than the sum of its parts that left me absolutely in awe, both of him as an artist and of the potential of art itself to change lives. That whole day was filmed, and the beautiful and moving finished film was finally premiered worldwide on that day in February. Watch the 30-second trailer here to get a flavour for it. In keeping with the spirit of ‘25 In 24’, the idea was that fans like me would host house parties (the more random the location the better!) during which we’d watch the film and be inspired to open up conversations about our own crazy dreams. I did. And we were.

We embraced it, going to the beach, bodyboarding, having coffee and tacos, and then watching the film. Although only an hour long (frustrating; what happened to the other 23?!), it is very beautiful. We see snapshots of the event itself, stunning locations, amazing performances, the wonder of a sort of community coming together around it, the tension when things didn’t go to plan, moments of both humour and great depth, insights into the dreaming that went into making it happen, and through it all, Jon musing on what it means to dream, including a moving realisation that we are God’s own dream. We were encouraged to think what our dreams might be.

It stirred up a lot of thoughts in all of us that for a time left us in silent contemplation. And then it sparked conversation. We went out to the park nearby and walked up the hills to think and talk and pray. We talked about dreams we’d forgotten, lost or buried over the years. We found them coming to life again as we talked about them, realising that maybe we’d begun to settle for something less than perhaps we should, and that the dreams were still there underneath, calling us to bigger things.

M and I found ourselves rediscovering our own big dream; one day we would love to buy some land and live there in community somehow in a way that might re-envision what society could look like, challenge the way things are, and reconnect us with the land itself. I’d been terrified of that dream, and had put it aside the past few years, not knowing what to do with it, seeing the enormity of it and our complete ignorance about how to go about it and who to work with. The gap between where we are and where we dreamed of being is just too big, too painful to face. It’s been easier to focus on just getting on with normal life now. And in a different way, so had he. But as a result, we’d grown apart a little, thinking maybe the other didn’t still share our dream, and we’d not made any real efforts towards it either. Talking about it, we realised the dream was indeed still there inside us both, and that was a beautiful, exciting and challenging discovery. We’ve begun to think and talk a little more about where we’re headed, and how on earth to get there from where we are in our normal and so very isolated life here.

And that same evening, we went to see a play that made me look again at my calling, the dream I’ve sensed God dreaming in me ever since I’d first explored the idea of what I was to do with my life, that I was made to ‘care for and work’ this earth. It got me excited again about the way I know God reveals Godself through the wonder of scientific exploration, and the potential for science, environmental science in my case, to work towards God’s coming kingdom. Yet it also confronted me with the pain of having a vocation outside of the Church taken less seriously and supported less than vocations to ministry within the Church.

Big dreams…

All this comes at the point in the working year where we are having our annual appraisals, and having to set objectives and personal development plans for the coming year. Thinking about it, this is probably the main factor behind my mental health having taken a slight turn for the worst lately. I’ve been worried about it, knowing that though I’d met many of my objectives, there were some I’d barely touched, and finding the thought of having to make some sort of career plan with goals around how I might get there utterly paralysing.

But I decided to face up to it, look full at it, and try and figure out what was going on in me. I realised the objectives I’d avoided were ones that touched on my lack of self-belief, and that going forward I’d need more support to achieve those sorts of goals, and in doing so, carefully rebuild my self-belief. And I had to admit that whilst I have bigger aspirations than my current role, I’m not up to forming any specifics; right now, my goal is simply to stay put, get good at what I do, learn to believe in myself, and be a real asset to my team.

I told all this to my managers at my appraisal and objectives meetings, bared my soul as deeply and honestly as I could possibly stand, and they were brilliantly supportive (thank God I’ve found myself in an environment where this is possible!). It’s now looking like these seemingly short-term aims might well make up my objectives for the coming year, and instead of being forced to come up with a long-term plan, I might instead regain the headspace and confidence to be able to start dreaming again. And there’s a dream in itself…

I took all these things to my counsellor (well… maybe not the silly dreams!), and she thought about it and asked me had I been expected to have a dream and a plan as a child? Well… not particularly, although what child does not get asked regularly what they want to be when they grow up?* No. This fear is rooted in my experiences of having my dreams knocked out of me time and again I’ve run up against career dead-ends rather too many times after having thought I was finally on the road somewhere. Honestly, I could well be there again right now, career-wise, though I’m hoping keeping my hopes non-specific and focussing on doing well now will help if this doesn’t lead anywhere this time. We’ve a lot to work through to help me find a balance between the now and the dreams where I can begin to overcome the fear.

The truth is, I’m afraid to dream… To dream is to see a vision, believe in it, trust your soul to it and pursue it. I’m afraid of this – afraid that I might in visioning see a future too wonderful to attain; afraid of believing it only for it not to come about; afraid to believe in myself for fear I’ll let myself down; afraid to trust my soul to something that may again be snatched away and leave me wounded; afraid in case I find myself pursuing a mirage…

Yet where would we be without vision? I believe passionately in living in the now, and personally it’s where I have to be focussed just now to be able to relax about my future dreams. We also need to ground dreams in the present reality to be able to know how to get there, or they remain pie-in-the-sky. But we need the dreams too, or we stagnate! The thought I may just comfortably doze off into an easy life that goes nowhere is more terrifying than the thought of daring to dream but running into the recurring nightmare of failure. I want a sense of direction to show me which next steps would be a good idea. I don’t want to be unprepared for opportunities to do the amazing things I may one day be able to do. I don’t want to sleepwalk through my life and miss the chance of adventure and of really making a difference somewhere.

The ‘Godincidences’ around dreams just keep coming, so I know this is where God is at work in me just now. I’m truly thankful that this season of life is reawakening me to my dreams, reminding me that they are still there inside me, scary as they are, and I hope through it all that we’re able to start bringing them to life.

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*I wanted to be a writer, and ‘do something with wildlife’. Here I am, living the dream, right?! To be honest, at 34 I’m still trying to figure out the answer to that question, as I suspect most of us are. I’d like to think if parenthood ever happens I’d ask my kids who they want to be instead, and help them see that that’s a different question to what career they might be interested in pursuing…

A doodle

One of these days I will cease to exist in this world

And on that day, you will find me alive and well in The Wonderlands

And I will no longer be made of carbon; I will be composed of song…

 

 

 

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(jonforeman.com, in case you want to explore The Wonderlands with me 😊)

Origin

You play in sound

You laugh in movement

Love creating life in word and spark

You breathe in song

You roar the dance

Alive in every emotion that makes sense only within itself

You beam in rhythm of radiant joy

Colouring in human kindness

Mysterious as fire, and as physical

Alive and vibrant and vital

You are close to every one of us

A pulse of birth for each heart that seeks You

A force we cannot own, contain or claim

A question we can only feel

Home…

And suddenly, just like that, they’re gone, as a wave sweeps clean away a sandcastle, leaving the beach a blank canvas for the next day’s adventure…

I was barely home from tour* myself when the wave first arrived, still processing all the memories in my mind, still figuring out the lessons I’d been learning on this journey. Switchfoot’s #home wave. They were not just home from the European tour; they were really home.

Jon himself first broke the news in an interview, that the teasing wave was a sign of a sea change; my band are taking a ‘hiatus’, at least from touring, and as for the future, simply ‘we’ll see’.

Ahhhh…. I knew about it already, after speaking with them and their crew during the tour and them telling us they were taking a year off from touring. So one one level, this is no surprise. On the other – it really hit hearing it from Jon. Moreover, rightly or wrongly, this seems to have developed from ‘a year out from touring’ to ‘an indefinite hiatus’. Here is the official announcement.

I am immensely proud of my Switchfam; everyone has taken it so well, the response overwhelmingly full of love, understanding and positivity, even though I know there’s also fear and sadness. We evidently care about them first as humans and not just as a band, and understand they need to do this.

For myself – honestly I feel everything. The day it came out, I had to take a long walk to disentangle my head and heart, name my feelings and get my thoughts in order. It’s all overwhelmingly positive; relief, joy, excitement, encouragement, happiness for them, certainty over my own plans, hope, trust, honour, deep gratitude… but also a lurking fear, and yes, grief. Light and heavy.

Emotionally, I am left carrying so much, and spending a few weeks off social media (and therefore away from friends who get what I’m experiencing) during Advent whilst this wave was breaking all around me has been very tough.

To call Switchfoot my favourite band would probably have been sufficient 15 years ago. But today they are so, so much more to me than that. It’s impossible to adequately explain, or to say just what they mean to me, but they’ve been part of my life for 18 years, given me so much support and guidance over that time, have become (in purely human terms) my greatest heroes and inspiration, and we’ve become extended family, again in a more real sense than is easily explained. I can’t claim at all to be personally friends with them, not even close, but there is still real relationship there.

This latest tour contained the very best shows I’ve ever experienced. The guys were mixing up the setlists a lot more, really on top of it, and it felt like they could do anything. I’ve now had moments of connection with each of them, moments when they let their guards down and let me in a little. I came away from it with a profound sense of grace, that it’s all enough. Jon has given me more than enough already and owes me absolutely nothing. At all. And God… so, so much more so. Everything, every breath, is a mercy gift, and to have been given so much more on top leaves me deeply humbled. I ended the tour by walking the labyrinth at Norwich Cathedral, meditating on the incredible journeys of grace that have marked the past 18 years, both with my band and with my God, in silent awe, and worship of the Grace-Giver.

It’s all deepened my understanding of this strange phenomenon that is fan-love. I’ve already learnt that it is more of a two-way process than I thought, that artists need to experience the personal support of their fans. But what is it that I want and need from Jon? Only that he continues to make music that reaches me, and that I can continue to find ways to communicate back to him my thanks and support, even from afar (and hopefully to learn to do this better!).

Like all love, it reaches for eternity; I don’t ever want this distant ‘conversation’ to end. The lovemiles I can live with. Even a temporary silence. But I want us to remain a part of each other’s lives, and if I’m honest, in moments like this when I see clearly its fragility, I fear to lose that. This break brings to the surface both the fear of losing Switchfoot altogether, but also a huge sense of relief, that they are clearly not going to plough on until they burn themselves out prematurely, but are thinking about sustaining themselves longterm.

I still ache after 8(?) years without Delirious?, who were never much more to me than a favourite band. The grief has softened with time, but I still feel it. I enjoy the music similarly in both cases, but Switchfoot… through the lyrics and the journey I’ve been on with them it’s become a lot, lot more; deeper, more personal, more influential on my journey, more connected with them and the fan family. And my God works in me through them. They matter immensely, musically, collectively and as individuals. And I don’t know how this will pan out. Neither do they. Everything is wide open just now. And the combination of gratitude and grief, and a myriad other things that I’m carrying is overwhelming.

This is my constant reality. I live always with the separation and the knowledge that I may never see them again. That is not new to me. Everything is grace upon grace, nothing taken for granted. I know very well, and have even said already, that I know it could have been the last time for me. But this new twist brings it all home. I feel it full on now, all the distance, the feeling of the bonds I’ve been building up all year tearing, the possibility it could all change. The unknown. The what-happens-when-the-end-comes. This isn’t it, but it makes me see with a raw freshness how finite everything is.

But I also know this is real love, love that can let go freely, knowing to do so is in the best interests of the other, and will not cling on. It is wonderful seeing them all so excited, feeling the love and enjoying the freedom of normal life. And I trust.

The strongest and most powerful emotion I’m experiencing just now is the thankfulness. These past 18 years, and this year more than anything, have been grace upon grace upon grace, to the point I’m moved to thankful tears whenever a fresh realisation hits. The songs, the shows, the sheer amount of time and music we’ve been blessed with, the aftershows and side projects and writings and laughs and life examples… I cannot ask for more! I’m even still riding the highs from this year’s shows. I am so, so happy and thankful!

And I know enough to truly believe they sincerely intend to be back again, and are even now only talking about ceasing one aspect, touring – which I myself have previously even encouraged them to think about! They work incredibly hard; it’s absolutely deserved.

I think they are playing for keeps – and so am I. There will be more sandcastles yet.

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*The rest of my blog following Switchfoot’s second Looking for Europe tour starts here