I do enjoy listening to music; in fact, at this very moment Urban Hymns (the Verve) is sitting still in my CD player, and echoes of Frou Frou and The Notwist are still ambient somewhere between my ears.

I used to think music was an important medium in today’s culture—after all, young people are completely obsessed with it, and I’ve heard multiple messages from hip preachers espousing the view that musicians are the “prophets” of our era. I’ve even used music during messages I’ve given to emphasize or illustrate a certain point.

Certainly music can be used effectively in this way, and there is no denying the power it exerts over those who are addicted to it, however I have come to think that music is largely irrelevant. Not only that, but it is also partially responsible for the irrelevance of the collective youth nation.

Musicians are not enlightened poets of truth (different in degree, not in kind); they don’t “see into the life of things” or hear “the still, sad music of humanity.” Rather, for the most part they are kings of materialism who happen to be experts at putting together a catchy riff with suitably ambiguous lyrics that lend themselves to whatever barely coherent profundity that the listener chooses to hear. Sure, there all kinds of power ballads out there that point out the meaninglessness of the musician’s own life and the despondent state of humanity—you might claim that this “deep” truth is prophetic and good. Really, it’s not either. These ballads aren’t deep—they’re just one more superficial layer of the pervasive existential despair that grips this generation in its grasp. Most people already recognize it; very few ever take action.

Perhaps, you think, the addictive draw of music can be used to bridge the gap (“they’ll come because of the music, and the truth and challenge that they hear in the message will be what changes their lives…”), and I’m sure this has been the case, at times. But I think that largely it is not the case; ears are too clogged and hearts are quite stuck; and it’s all too easy to ride merrily along caught in an irrelevant existential despair grounded in a lower pleasure; and that is what proves debilitating—for there are other despairs, but their relevance provides them a greater door of escape.