Amy Grant, The Collection

(1986)

From time to time, the taint ticklers like to experiment, to step outside our normal listening realm. Each of the reviewers agreed to review a religious record. What follows is the first of such reviews.

Review by Class Warrior

Gentle reader: I have never listened to this album before last month. I had few preconceptions about the quality of the music. While I have some strong opinions about Grant’s general lyrical topic of choice, I was willing to give it a chance.

Before we get to the actual music, there are a couple of things that intrigue me about Amy Grant. The biggest item is her large gay following. I confess that I don’t understand. Why would a group persecuted by conservative Christians be fans of one of the most visible and popular musicians from this sect? The music is nothing special (but more on that in a bit...), so I am not sure. Now that I think of it, a friend of mine from college was a fan. He was a much bigger follower of Elton John, so, when combined with other information I won’t describe here, it didn’t take a genius to figure out that he was gay but living in the closet. Well, I never claimed to be a genius.... Looking back on it, I realize now that he had a big ol’ thing for me. Unrequited love combined with severe depression and being gay in an unaccepting social structure can do rotten things to a person’s state of mind, so eventually I had to break off all contact with him to preserve my own sanity. His threats of suicide unless I agreed to spend some time with him got pretty old after a while. Ah, the melodramas of college life. I have much more sympathy for him now than I did at the time. I hope he’s doing well, wherever he may be. I’m glad I’m not twenty years old anymore, though.

The above is the first thing that enters my mind when I think of Amy Grant—or Elton John, for that matter.

The second intriguing aspect is that I can’t help comparing Grant’s music to that of her eighties contemporary, Madonna. I’ve been on a Madonna kick for the last couple of months (the early albums only—I do have some standards, minimal as they may be), so the comparison is easy to make. Here are the results of the comparison: Madonna blows Amy Grant out of the water in every single category one would care to measure. It is not close. Madonna has a better, more expressive voice with a much greater vocal range. She can sing low alto up to low soprano (don’t quote me on this), while Grant sticks to the middle octaves exclusively. Madonna’s songs are more memorable. The lyrics...well. Madonna’s lyrics are creative, at least. “Material Girl” is a disgusting bit of rhyme glorifying capitalist excess, but a) that’s lyrically the worst of the bunch; b) I would much rather listen to “Material Girl” than any of Amy Grant’s religious crap. I cannot say that Madonna’s music is objectively better than Grant’s—I’m willing to allow for taste—but it comes as close to being an objective fact as is possible, if that makes any sense. But you don’t have to take my word for it—listen to the Like a Virgin album, the album we’re discussing here, and see what you think. Or, better yet, skip Amy Grant....

On to Grant’s music!

The Collection begins with four of her (I assume) early attempts at mainstreaming her sound. They are straightforward eighties pop songs without any overt Christian sentiment. They are the most listenable songs on the album. Bland, inoffensive, tolerable, but nothing special. If this were the only style of music she had ever done, we would have all forgotten about her by now, much as we have consigned so many 1980s one-hit wonder bands to the dustbin (deservedly or not). There is absolutely nothing in these four songs that stands out. She would not have gotten the chance to put out the “Heart in Motion” album later with her big hit “Baby Baby.” (Now I have that damn song in my head! Curse everything! The only way I can drive out songs from my brain is to think of the most annoying tune ever, which is “Love Shack” by the B-52s.) These songs wouldn’t be acceptable as the soundtrack to a Huggies commercial because they’re just not memorable enough. There’s nothing for the baby piss to soak into, so to speak. It just ends up running down the infant’s leg (and taint), soaking the kid’s pajamas and getting the sheets all wet and stinky.

The Collection takes on a different tone from the fifth song until the end. Much like a fisher (of men) who has to “play” the fish before reeling it in, she tries to draw in the listener with pop songs, then shift to the Message when the moment is right. At this point Grant breaks out the bible (evangelical version—King James, right? [or King Jimmy “Explosive Diarrhea” B]) and gets down with Jesus. I can handle an occasional Christian-themed lyric, if it’s done well. Think Jimmy Cliff performing “The Harder They Come.” Cliff’s version of Christianity is something that I would be able to support—religious sentiment becomes a way to put social harm in perspective, to forgive transgressions, and to strive to change the world in positive ways. There is a long history of Christian work along these lines. The Catholic Worker movement is the first thing that pops into my mind, but it’s only one example. (Go read Dorothy Day’s autobiography The Long Loneliness and you’ll see what I mean. Seriously, read it.) There is nothing socially conscious about Grant’s songs—they’re all about establishing a personal relationship with the Savior and staying within that relationship. This is the most unproductive response to oppressive social conditions that I can imagine. Forget about all the shit going on and how it affects you. Never mind that capitalist industry is using up your planet, its creatures, and your neighbors like a vampiric inferno. Turn inward, turn to Jesass and the Lard, and you will secure your ticket to the good life for all eternity. Put aside the “vale of tears,” the harshness and cruelty of your world, and try to get by until you are Called. It’s certainly easier to take this approach, but if I may, I’d like to call you away from the church and back to the real world. We need you here in the struggle to make this place better, not with your head in the clouds (or, less charitably, up your ass).

I have a feeling that Grant owes most of her popularity to what she’s singing (and to her “wholesome” good looks, whatever that means), not how she sang it. Again, there is nothing to report as far as interesting music is concerned, regardless of whether it falls under the pop or Christian category. If she tried, from the beginning of her career, to make a go of it as a mainstream pop singer, I don’t think there’s any way she would have made it.

I wish I could say something positive about Amy Grant’s music. I was hoping that this album would end up being a guilty pleasure. It appears to me, though, that she is encouraging the most irresponsible sort of behavior possible. She is a propagandist peddling the worst kind of escapism to hordes of working-class people looking for an answer to why they feel so much pain. Not recommended on any level—not musically, and certainly not lyrically. You’re better off listening to just about anything else. If you want specifically Christian music (which would surprise the hell out of me, dear Tickle Your Taint devotee), you could dig up something much more meaningful and interesting, I’m sure.