You'd have to be stubborn as a mule to not enjoy these Acres.
Written: Apr 29 '05 (Updated Jul 06 '07)
Product Rating:
Pros: The wide-open folk/rock sound works wonders for an already thought-provoking set of lyrics.
Cons: Too little of Danielle, and the title track isn't as great. (But those are miniscule nitpicks.)
The Bottom Line: One of the best albums of 1999, Christian or otherwise. This early configuration of Caedmon's Call turned in nothing but stellar work.
I feel like taking another trip down memory lane this weekend. Part of it's because there's not a whole lot of new music that's really exciting me right now. Part of it's because I've been listening to old mix tapes from my college days, and a few prominent artists are popping up whose back catalogues deserve for me to acknowledge their greatness. One such artist is Caedmon's Call, a folk/rock group that I discovered about halfway through college in the late 90's. Having established themselves as a musically diverse and commendably literate Christian band with their first major-label release in 1997, the seven-member group continued to impress with their 1999 release, 40 Acres. It was one of the most anticipated new records of my senior year of college (due in part to the fact that Jars of Clay was taking forever to get their third album out), and it proved to be quite influential and comforting for me during those last few months before graduating and moving off to, shall we say, greener pastures (which was by no means an easy transition).
I have to say that it took me some time to get used to a more focused and streamlined version of the versatile band I had come to love. On the band's self-titled album, they had shown an ability to throw a few monkey wrenches into the standard folk/rock sound, which resulted in sometimes amusing songs centered around instruments such as the organ and saloon piano, and dedicated to such things as bus drivers and lazy children. All three of the band's vocalists were woven together wonderfully on that album, and practically every song had become significant for one reason or another. So it was difficult to get used to a more focused sound on 40 Acres - still crystal clear and remarkably tight, thanks in part to producer Glenn Rosenstein, but also less diverse than the debut had been. At first, I claimed that most of the songs sounded the same, and I lost interest about halfway through, completely missing a lot of the melodic and lyrical nuggets to be found within every single track. But as time went on and I gave each song more time to speak to me, I found that 40 Acres might just have been the greatest testament to the group's songwriting (and song covering) abilities.
Derek Webb and Aaron Tate, who were still the core songwriters for the group at this point, turned in reflection after poignant reflection on what it meant to find a whole new lease on life as a sinful human redeemed by God. Tate in particular had a knack for personal, confessional songs that managed to be devotional in nature without being overly didactic, and Webb's role was to fill in the gaps with more personal snapshots of his life, often centering his thoughts around what God was teaching him through romantic relationships and family members. As far as Christian music goes, this was one of those dream teams that you just couldn't top, because the results were uniformly good for the ears and the soul without ever resorting to superficial bumper-sticker doctrine.
As for my initial feeling that the album wasn't diverse enough - well, I don't know what I was thinking. It's true that 40 Acres didn't have as many dark hues to it as the self-titled album, which approached an alt-folk take on modern rock at times. 40 Acres was more comfortable in its folk-influenced skin, but its sound remained as big as the Texas plains that inspired its title. And a few neat little embellishments like banjoes or Celtic flutes or even trashcans were worked in, subtly enough to not overshadow the actual songs, but prominently enough to not make these guys sound like "just another folk band". If one could hear colors, one would be hearing a lot of yellow and green here.
Honestly, the only thing I could complain about here (which I complained about on most Caedmon's Call albums) was too much of Cliff Young and not enough of his then-new wife, Danielle Young, who only got to sing lead on 2 tracks. (Hey, it beats 1 1/2 tracks on their previous album.) Regardless, all three vocalists (the Youngs and Webb) were in fine form here, with Cliff's clean straightforwardness mixing with Danielle's conversational prettiness and Derek's slightly murky and off-center crooning. (He sounds a lot less ragged here than on his latest solo record; that's for sure.)
Simply put, this is one of those superbly solid albums that I just can't gush about enough.
There You Go When I asked for and deserved a serpent
You gave a net full of fish
And even the serpent that told the lie
When lifted high, foretold the gift...
The album starts off immediately with Cliff's voice drawing us into the first single, a theological nugget from Aaron Tate that took me years to fully appreciate. At first glance, it's an upbeat, organic pop song with a chorus melody eerily similar to "Breakfast at Tiffany's" by Deep Blue Something, that talks about God's ability to redeem bad situations and make good out of them. Even on the surface, we can see some interesting analogies at work: "There you go, making robes from my rags/There you go, melting crowns from my calves", etc. (That's "calves" as in the golden idol variety, not as in portions of your legs.) But look closer, and you'll find that Aaron draws some interesting parallels between well-known Bible stories, taking Jesus' advice that a good father would not give his son a stone instead of bread, or a snake instead of fish (therefore implying that God knows even better how to take care of us) and connecting those images to the bread used to represent Christ's body in Communion, stone that rolled away from Christ's tomb, the net full of fish that Jesus provided for the Disciples, etc. In the midst of this comes a subdued but well-played guitar interlude and some strong, steady drumming from the band's percussionists, adding a good amount of layering to what might seem like an ordinary radio-friendly song on first listen.
Thankful 'Cause we're all still-born, and dead in our transgressions
We're shackled up to the sin we hold so dear
So what part can I play in the work of redemption
'Cause I can't refuse and I cannot add a thing...
This one will forever be known as "the trashcan song". I'll never forget the excitement of hearing the band unveil this new song at the Hollywood House of Blues a good year before the album's release, and thinking how cool it was for Todd Bragg and Garrett Buell to bang on the sides of a trashcan as a way of providing rhythm. The effect isn't as noticeable in this song, and as a result it can seem a bit mellow compared to the live version, but once the real drums join the trashcan percussion, the song turns out to be a pretty kickin' number. It's one of the few radio hits for the band on which Derek Webb provided lead vocals, and it marks the first of several songs (most notably on Derek's solo albums) where he discusses the notion of humanity's complete depravity and reliance on God's grace. He frames it in his usual storytelling way, describing what it was like to rifle through old belongings and be reminded of a past he couldn't run from. His conclusion regarding how far he had come since then was simply this: "I am thankful that I'm incapable of doing any good on my own." Why, that's not the superficial feel-good message we're used to from Christian music! But it ties in to a recurring theme on this album - inescapable grace, the likes of which we can't undo despite the evil in our human hearts. And it's a great jam of a song in which to relay such a message, complete with a great little harmonica solo from the band's old keyboard player, Randy Holsapple.
Shifting Sand I've begged you for some proof
For my Thomas eyes to see
A slithering staff, a leprous hand
And lions resting lazily...
Danielle takes the lead here for a mellower song , more sparsely populated by a flowing acoustic guitar rhythm in 3/4 time, and some piano and light hand drums. Here, she relates a lyric from Aaron Tate that take an honest look at the inconsistent nature of a person's faith, citing our need to explain and rationalize until we've all but removed the wonder and miracles from our image of the God we believe in. The tone here is both confessional and celebratory, again using rich Biblical metaphors in a strikingly literate manner to make a point. That point is that even when we are faithless, God is faithful, and our salvation comes not from our own ability, but rather when we "stand on grace". The analogy of faith being like sand sucked out to sea and dumped back on the land by the ocean's waves is an apt one, and Danielle's stellar vocal performance ensures classic status for this song. (Random Side Note: Interestingly, this one cropped up in an unexpected place recently. The science team working on NASA's Mars Exploration Rovers likes to play different "Wake-Up Songs" from day to day that loosely relate to what the rovers are doing, mostly as a means of entertainment during the crew. They often stick to classic rock songs, show tunes, things of that nature, but I was pleasantly surprised to see this song crop up for a day when one of the rovers was crossing sand dunes. There, you see? Science and religion don't need to be at odds with one another.)
Faith My Eyes But I get turned around
And I mistake my happiness for blessing
But I'm blessed as the poor
And still I judge success by how I'm dressing...
This is one of Derek's "traveling songs" - every folk artist's gotta have a few. A more subtle number that took me a while to fully get into, it starts with a lovely finger-picked guitar intro before transforming into an upbeat shuffle subtly complimented by the plucking of a banjo. The basic idea here is that Derek misses his family and sometimes he questions if being a traveling musician is his calling. But in the end, he chooses to look beyond his emotions and try to "walk with grace my feet and faith my eyes". The analogy of grace being his feet actually connects nicely to "Shifting Sand", now that I think about it, so the track order here probably isn't a coincidence.
Where I Began I've done the work of Sisyphus
Thinking that I could get over this hill
But the one thing I can't get over now
Is the force of Your will...
Another song about roads shows up here - this is probably one of the songs on the album that has the more standard Caedmon's Call instrumentation, starting acoustic and building into more of a strong pop/rock song complete with organ and pounding drums. It's a sound that they were perhaps a little too comfortable with by the time Back Home rolled around, but on this album, it's still working in their favor. Despite being a single, this is the only song from the album that I've never heard the band play live. Here Cliff muses about his tendency to wander every which way but toward God, noting that God always brings him Back - "Try as I may, I can't get away from You". That could be taken as an endorsement of the "once saved, always saved" idea, or perhaps even Calvinism, which is a hot point of debate in the church, so I won't go there. It could just as easily be read that God is always there calling him back, not necessarily forcing him to go back, but either way, since returning to God is obviously a good thing, I won't split hairs over seminary-level theological points. While it isn't one of the standout tunes on the album, in my opinion, Aaron Tate is still in top form with clever analogies like "Every road leads me to roam" (the word "roam" being a play on the phrase "All roads lead to Rome"). A little knowledge of both the Bible and Greek mythology are needed to fully understand the metaphors here, but even before I understood all of that, I still enjoyed the vast majority of Tate's songs, so I don't think that being a literature scholar is a requirement for being a Caedmon's Call fan or anything.
Table for Two Well this day's been crazy but everything's happened on schedule
From the rain and the cold to the drink that I spilled on my shirt
'Cause You knew how You'd save me before I fell dead in the garden
And You knew this day long before You made me out of dirt...
This is one of Derek's most well-known and well-loved songs, despite the fact that it was never a single. (I got to hear this one a year early, too, and man, did it hit me hard at that point in time.) An acoustic shuffle in 3/4 time, complimented by an upright bass line that sounds like it was pulled straight from the band's song "Bus Driver" and tweaked to fit the rhythm, provides the musical backdrop for Derek's unflinching musings on singleness. He makes no bones about it - it's lonely and it's hard, and he and his friend Danny have spent many a late night talking about why he still haven't captured the elusive Mrs. Webb, and what God's plan could be in the midst of all of this. Derek takes on these tough questions with humility, acknowledging that he knows God "can't plan the ends and not plan the means", but still admitting that "I just need some peace to get me to sleep". I like that he handles the subject so carefully, admitting that even though he knows God has a plan, it's not always easy to keep his chin up about it. That was what I needed to hear in those days (and I still do now despite being an almost-married man) - not someone who had all the easy answers, but someone who related. (Another Random Side Note: The line about Derek spilling a drink on his shirt ended up being really funny in retrospective, because one hectic day while on my way to a job interview, I spilled root beer all over myself.)
Climb On (A Back that's Strong) If you could save me a place in heaven
With a clean well lighted room
I'd muscle up to Armageddon
And wave to you darlin', be home soon...
Here Caedmon's Call becomes the first of two Christian artists to cover a Shawn Colvin song within two years (the other instance being Jennifer Knapp's take on "Diamond in the Rough"). Fittingly, Danielle takes the lead on this one, which was a conscious decision on the band's part because Danielle seemed to always get the slow songs that people would sit down for during concerts. This song has a fairly simple meaning about one friend carrying another when that other person is too weak to stand, but Shawn made sure to thrown in a few enigmatic lyrics here and there, most notably the line "Then you could be the woman you need, but just let me be the man that I am". Some fans mentioned that it was funny that Danielle didn't bother to switch the genders when singing that, but in doing so, they completely missed the fact that Shawn Colvin is also a woman. (DOH.) Anyway, Danielle knocks it out of the park (as she often does) with a soaring chorus, and the band's rich acoustics and Randy's excellent organ solo provide a way for them to integrate the song into their own sound.
Petrified Heart And the easy-living, Gnostic proud
Use their knowledge like a wrecking ball to tear me down
Flooding me with their fallacies
I can't walk on this water, I'm starting to drown...
An oft-overlooked Tate song (there are so many great songs here that it's easy to do that) actually turns out to be one of my favorites, owing in no small way to its 3/4 rhythm that circles back on itself and the vaguely Irish instrumentation that shows up here and there. It's a bit of an experiment for the band, but one that I think works extremely well, with the rich wall of sound allowing the sparkling acoustic and hand drums to shine through despite heavier drums and cymbals and strong vocals stealing the spotlight during the chorus. This is, unsurprisingly, a song about having a hardened heart and wondering how it got that way. It seems to relate back to "Shifting Sand" in terms of its description of an individual who has allowed doubt to make him jaded and cynical and afraid to let go and truly love people. It describes opening up and learning to love again as a process that is painful but necessary, again drawing a brilliant analogy between two Bible stories with this captivating line: "Strike this rock with Your rod, I'll take the blows/'Til Your living water begins to flow/As it flowed from the Man of Sorrows' side/On that day when His body was torn for the twelve tribes."
Somewhere North I don't miss the driving
Seems like forever, and I'm always driving in my mind
And wearing out the road that gets me there...
Here it is - my absolute favorite Caedmon's Call song (and if there's any other song that wishes to contend with it, it can take a number and wait in a very long line). It's a much subtler song, one that will probably seem slow and overly ponderous to casual listeners, but one that develops into a tear-jerking story of commitment and of the hardship created by a long-distance relationship. Derek wrote this while he was living in Houston and he was seeing a woman up in Kansas City, and the music definitely captures the lonely feeling of traversing the long Midwestern highways under cover of night, trying not to fall asleep as he makes each all-too-brief trip to visit her. It's the perfect personification of the sentiment that absence makes the heart grow fonder - in Derek's case, though he knows he doesn't have much to give, he's practically ready to jump ship on everything he knows and go marry the girl, which is eloquently stated in the line "I have nothing to my name... but I can give you that." (Everybody say it with me now - Awwwwww.) Sadly, this relationship of his didn't work out in the end, but the song took on a more spiritual significance to him, and he has continued to play it live well after his 2001 marriage to Sandra McCracken. I've seen him do it solo on piano and guitar, and with the full band in a version closer to the album, and regardless of what format it takes, it's a beautiful song, accentuated powerfully by the acoustic guitar picking, the lightly tinkling piano, and Derek's strong, heartfelt vocals during the chorus.
Daring Daylight Escape You can read all about it
About how boy meets girl and then
He screws the whole thing up, just like always...
Part 2 of Derek's relationship arc comes in this upbeat, somewhat tongue-in-cheek, and slightly country-influenced song that tells a girl, in not so many words, to make up her friggin' mind about him. Derek describes the relationship as a bit of a madcap adventure as the two of them go back and forth and he's running himself ragged just trying to get his facts straight - the way he expresses it is almost humorous, but there's a serious "love me or leave me" vibe running through it and I can definitely feel his pain. We get another of Randy's harmonica solos here - I love new keyboard player Josh Moore and all, but I kind of miss this guy. I feel bad for Derek that the girl eventually left him high and dry by relocating to London (a place which he mentions as being "nice, but it's the last place you wanna go"), but I admire his honesty and even his ability to have a little fun with the subject instead of just writing another mopey, you-dumped-me sort of song.
40 Acres Out here the Texas sky is as big as the sea
And you're alone in your room like an island floating free
Your spirit's hanging in a bottle out on a tree
You say that you're the black sheep, I say you're still family...
For some reason, this album's title track never resonated with me the way the rest of the album did. Don't get me wrong, it's a fine song - it just seems to be missing a little something that the other tracks have. Maybe it's a little too similar to some of the other more straightforward songs, and it's not as powerful an ending as "Coming Home" or as off-kilter as "The Ballad of San Francisco". Whatever the case, it's a good excuse for Aaron to take poetic license with another metaphor - this time it's the symbolic phrase "40 acres and a mule", which denotes a new start given to freed slaves; definitely a good analogy for on of this album's main themes. Cliff sings here, describing Texas as a place full of endless fields waiting to be plowed, torrential rains that "wash your house away but also make you clean", and ultimately, redemption. It's a nice homage to the band's home state, and it serves as a call to those who feel that they have wandered too far from God, assuring them that it's never too late for a restart. As someone who has felt like the "black sheep" of the Christian family many times, I can appreciate that. I don't feel like the music really sounds like the kind of song that should end the album - it seems more like a song you'd place somewhere in the middle. Maybe the placement is my main complaint here, but anyway, if my least favorite song on the disc is still a pretty good one, that says a lot about the overall quality level of the album, doesn't it?
So there you have it. A classic album that got me through college graduation, a lonely summer spent apart from the girlfriend I had at the time, job interviews and the looming threat of poverty, and basically the adjustment to a new life in the big and scary grown-up world. A lot of my attachment to 40 Acres is admittedly personal, but aside from all that, I hope I've still made a case for its lyrical and musical merits. It's a watershed moment from one of CCM's few truly essential bands (puns intended if you know anything about record labels!), and the truly staggering though is the realization that the band's self-titled record and their most recent album, Share the Well, actually surpass this already-excellent disc in terms of quality. Any of the three would be an excellent place to start for the new Caedmon's Call fan - and for the existing fan to return to time and time again.
ALBUM WORTH:
There You Go $1.50
Thankful $2
Shifting Sand $2
Faith My Eyes $1.50
Where I Began $1
Table for Two $2
Climb On (A Back that's Strong) $1
Petrified Heart $2
Somewhere North $2
Daring Daylight Escape $2
40 Acres $1 TOTAL: $18
Band Members:
Cliff Young: Vocals, guitars
Danielle Young: Vocals
Derek Webb: Vocals, guitars, piano (later replaced by Andrew Osenga)
Randy Holsapple: Piano, organ, keyboards, harmonica (later replaced by Josh Moore)
Aric Nitzberg: Bass (Later replaced by Jeff Miller)
Todd Bragg: Drums, percussion
Garrett Buell: Drums, percussion
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