Welcome to The Church. No, not church. The Church, a hot and hoppin’ Nashville dance club. The decades old chapel now serves as the night escape of choice for urban dwellers seeking good times under a disco ball. It’s a sacred/ secular paradox to be sure, yet there might not be a more appropriate locale for the performance that is to follow. It’s a humid summer evening in Middle Tennessee, and far too many bodies have crammed into this tight, not well-ventilated space. As my friends grab Cokes and water, I snag a spot beneath a tall- and thankfully open- sanctuary window, hoping a cool breeze might dare venture into the room. Despite the heat, the crowd seems anxious. Consisting mostly of record label sales reps, they’ve come this evening to listen to a few new tunes from their pride and joy, the young band that in many ways helped secure these execs’ jobs. Up until now, Much Afraid, the band’s new album, has been shrouded in secrecy, hidden all summer from overly eager ears. Before long six already-sweaty men take the stage; an audible hush falls over the room. The anticipation can be felt before the first chords are ever struck……
Welcome Jars of Clay, the band of early 20-somethings that managed to do what no other Christian artist before them has- sell 1.5 million copies of a self titled debut, win Dove Awards for New Artist and Group of the Year in 1996 and ’97 respectively, open three shows for Sting, and land a No. 2 hit song, "Flood" on Triple A radio as well as airplay on MTV and VH1- all in a matter of 28 months.
As vocalist Dan Haseltine, keyboardist Charlie Lowell, and guitarists Steve mason and Matt Odmark (along with support players Aaron Sands on bass and Scott Savage on drums) break into the first tune, one has to wonder what they’re thinking. How does a young band create a sophomore follow-up to the most successful Christian debut ever? How do they continue to appeal to the hundreds of thousands of Christians and non-Christians who bought that first record? How do they successfully navigate the murky waters between the church and the rest of the world? Can they merely get along?
For Jars of Clay, the heat is on, and it has nothing to do with the temperature of the room.
The Jars story starts at Illinois’ 900 student Greenville College, where Haseltine, Lowell and mason spent their spare time writing and recording in the campus studio. (Odmark joined later after former member Matt Bronleewe left to pursue other interests.)
Warren Petit, a professor of music at Greenville, recalls one engineering peer recital where the band played the tape of the first track they recorded together.
"I remember distinctly when ‘Fade to Grey’ played on the recital program," he says. "It just killed everything else that night. The response from the students was alarming. You could just tell there was a sense of, ‘Whoa. That was cool.’"
On a whim the music majors entered three of their songs in a Gospel Music Association contest.
Long story short: they came, they performed, they conquered. Jars of Clay won GMA’s 1994 national Spotlight competition and became so heavily courted by Christian labels that their dormitory hall phone began ringing off the hook. Like Willy Wonka’s one-in-a-million candy bar, everyone wanted this golden ticket.
"Initially, what I saw in Jars of Clay was four guys with extremely innocent spirits, that didn’t fully realize the magnitude of their talent and the gifts that God had given them," says Robert Besson, director of Essential Records, the label that signed Jars. "They approached music from the heart as opposed to formulas. They cut through the clutter in that there was nothing else like them."
Despite that innate talent, the recording of their debut album, Jars of Clay, brought pandemonium, as arguments and miscommunications ruled the day. It was a state of tension that plagued the band for quite some time, a situation complicated further by the fact that the four not only worked together- they also now shared a two-bedroom apartment in a Nashville suburb.
"It was the best of times, it was the worst of times," remarks Mason with a grin. "There were some really special times we shared, but then there were things about that first year that I would never want to experience again."
Haseltine adds, "We learned how to relate to each other, what buttons to push and what buttons not to push to get things to happen. But that was a learning process, and in pushing the wrong buttons, we would have big blow-outs. Even then we joked about how it was very much like a marriage."
One such well-remembered show came at the True Tunes club in Wheaton, Illinois.
"We were all so mad at each other," says Haseltine, " and our attitudes were in full effect. We walked off stage and told [promoter/owner John Thomson], ‘We don’t deserve whatever you’re paying us for this show. Just give it to the opening act.’ It was terrible."
Though this musical matrimony may have gotten off to a rocky start, the band has definitely found its rhythm. Whatever happens with Jars, the friendships will last a lifetime.
"Jars of Clay is more than the music," says Haseltine, "In a lot of ways these guys provide almost a sense of security in the friendships that we have… that are closer than family in so many ways. The accountability and Christian fellowship we have is something that we need."
While the first year is full of war stories and peace treaties, it’s also a year of unbelievable surprise successes , achievements beyond this band’s wildest imagination. The debut project for the Jar boys- as the band had affectionately become known in Nashville circles- released in May 1995 to much critical acclaim.
"That was it. Then we went out and started to do shows, opened for PFR, and no one knew our music."
"We didn’t even know our own music," laughs Haseltine.
By the beginning of ’96, Jars was offered and accepted the middle slot on Michael W. Smiths "I’ll Lead You Home" tour just as Essential’s general market counterpart, Silvertone, picked up "Flood" to promote to pop and adult alternative radio. In a matter of months the Jar Boys were catapulted into a position for which no one could prepare.
Kiss the merry-go-round good-bye. Jars of Clay just landed on a death defying rollercoaster.
According to Scotty Smith, the group’s pastor and friend, "None of those guys ever dreamed it would be as big as it was. We’re not talking about seasoned veterans who made their way through the small youth groups and little fireside chats. It was BOOM! All of a sudden they went from college into mainstream success.
Radio promotions just caught us by surprise when it took off," says Mason. "We had no idea what was involved in going to radio stations and trying to be all things to all people, as Paul says. We didn’t know if they were going to blow us off or if they were going to be like, ‘Hey, we dig this spiritual thing.’ "
Haseltine explains, "The picture I have of our career at that point was like George Jetson’s treadmill spinning really, really fast, and we’re making these decisions like, ‘Okay, we’re jumping out riiiggghhht….now!’ That’s where our commitment to the group really solidified as we all had to consider, ‘Is it really worth it?’ "
Ultimately, the band’s answer was yes, but the strain success placed on them was at times almost more than they could bear.
"I just remember feeling really fatigued," says Odmark. "Things got so incredibly busy that I almost began to resent the fact that ‘Flood’ was having the success that it was. I remember being so unprepared in a lot of ways to work as hard as we did and to give as much of our time as it required. It was a kind of front-lines experience. You felt like you were in the middle of something incredible and amazing, but at the same time it was sucking every last piece of your energy out of you."
Of course, "Flood" wasn’t all bad. The legendary Casey Kasem knew the band’s name. The single was often dropped smack dab in the middle of a radio mix that included musical favorites like Sarah McLachlan, Radiohead or David Wilcox. And that Grammy nomination didn’t hurt anyone’s feelings!
Smith says, "When all those things started happening- the attention, the adoration, and the financial rewards, all of that- I just tried to keep discussion going consistently with them on what does it mean to be a steward of all this? What’s encouraging is they as much as I have been the precipitators and facilitators of asking those good questions. In terms of the few artists that have had that kind of exponential success, these guys have definitely done it as well as anybody I know."
Lowell says, "It’s hard for us to fell a lot of responsibility for all that has happened in the last couple of years, or to think, ‘Man, we did a great job.’ It’s not in our works or in our merit. God’s got us here."
God’s got us here. Lowell’s reference to divine providence may surprise some Christian critics who question Jars’ motivations. One the other hand, non-Christian "Flood" fans may be scratching their heads trying to understand what God is doing in rock’n’roll. That constant tension of sacred versus secular interests challenged- and continues to confront- four guys who simply want to be bridge-builders with guitars.
"Sometimes it feels like the four of us know what we’re doing and know our calling and our purpose in Jars," says Lowell, "but then almost everyone you run into, their vision of who you are and what you’re doing is slightly off of what you want them to perceive. There’s this desire to straighten everybody out."
Mason says, "We decided that a lot of what we do is bridge-building and ground-softening. For people who have no experience with the church or a negative one, maybe it creates the first positive experience where they weren’t being yelled at or condemned or judged prematurely. Maybe the Lord will use that to open them up to more ministry from others… We’ve gotten to share Christ with many people we wouldn’t have, and more people are becoming open to the gospel because of it."
But as Mason himself noted, "Where the world and the Word meet, there’s going to be fireworks." As the band performed in more and more club following the rising "Flood" on the radio charts, controversy sparked hotter than ever.
Mason explains, "People say, ‘I heard you were never going to sing Christian songs again’ right after we’ve gotten off a stage singing ‘Like a Child’ or ‘Love Song for a Savior.’ It’s like because we had success on adult alternative radio, these songs suddenly became non-Christian. It’s sad."
But martyrs for the cause they are not; these four readily admit to a few mistakes, from poor venue choices to an opening act that wouldn’t respect Jars’ wish to refrain from profanity on stage.
"I think we knew our intentions," says Odmark, "but we were a little headstrong and a little naïve going into it. This is a lot messier and complicated than it looked on paper.
Jars of Clay found itself caught on a bridge between two warring parties. The church and the culture were duking it out, intent to claim this band as the prize. Smith, the road pastor for a Seattle tour date, witnessed such conflict first hand.
"Here are four very sincere guys who have a real desire to do music that will be a bridge with the culture," says Smith. "It was king of like [the band was] caught in the maelstrom, in the vortex of being criticized by secular people because they were too spiritual, and being criticized by spiritual people because they were not spiritual enough. It hurt them deeply. There were tears, there was anguish, there was a real sense of ‘how do we wade through this stuff?’ "
"When we started," says Haseltine, "a lot of the hype was based around us being so innocent as a band. We were the ‘Jar boys.’ We played in a lot of places that robbed us of that… We tried to please everybody. We had to learn to say no to people, what it meant to turn a deaf ear sometimes to stuff we shouldn’t have to listen to, stuff that’s not given to us out of love."
"Sometimes people don’t care whether it’s appropriate or not," says Mason. "They’re going to tell you what they think, regardless of how theologically wacked it might be. Praise God that He brought us to the place right now where we see that as we are one different part of the body of Christ, some of those people who may have criticized us are another unique part of the body of Christ. We’re all special nonetheless."
Lowell adds, "I try to remember that we’re all in a process, and we’re all learning. Luckily, God uses each of us in those different ways."
They survived their own fights, intense exhaustion and the sacred/ secular tug-of-war. College exams were ditched in favor of road life, and innocence was lost to wisdom. Two members even found the time to get married (Mason last December and Haseltine in August.)
The Jar boys are now truly Jar men.
And so what do they want to say on their new album, a record that released September 16? Quite simply, they’re Much Afraid.
"My big goal [for the second record]," says Odmark, "was to have fun doing it. Whatever we do, as long as we enjoy it this time."
And enjoy it they did.
"We knew we wanted it to be more dynamic," says Mason. "We wanted to make the highs higher and the lows lower, and honestly some of that is having a bigger budget to play with and getting more opportunity to develop the songs as we went along."
Part of that process comes in choosing a producer who could capture the band’s identity and push it to the next level. It was a highly sought-after position that was eventually won by Stephen Lipson, a London-based talent who has worked with such artists as Sting, Annie Lennox, Simple Minds, and Whitney Houston.
We started to talk to him about some specific songs," says Mason, "and we asked him, ‘what do you think you’d do for that?’ And he goes (as he widens his eyes and dons a British accent), ‘I don’t know. I guess we’ll just get into the studio and panic together.’ "
"He brought to us the expertise and the skill of having done this for many years, but with the gracious abandon of not having an agenda or formula," says Beeson.
Odmark adds, "We had an hour and a half meeting to decide if we wanted to spend $200,000 dollars and the biggest career step of our live on this guy. But of all the people we had met with at that point, he seemed the closest to what we were looking for."
And just what were they looking for? Odmark continues, "We really wanted to make a record that spoke to our hearts, and we wanted to make a record that would sell a few copies. Yeah, if only one person bought the record, we’d be disappointed!"
Though the band laughs at that bittersweet truth, it’s apparent that these four emn long to have an impact on their world. Their approach? Just be honest.
"We had to look at what we are about as a band," says Haseltine, the band’s primary lyricist. "We’re going to write about the things that are at the forefront of our hearts and the things we’re dealing with and struggling with. We took the issue of from fear to faith- ultimate fear to ultimate faith."
It’s a theme that emerged when Steve Mason began reading Hannah Hurnard’s classic work, Hinds’ Feet on High Places. The book quickly made the rounds among the band.
"It’s basically an allegory of the Christian walk," explains Haseltine, "and a journey from fear to faith by this character in the book named Much Afraid."
Mason adds, "At this point of our career, many of the emotions that Much Afraid was feeling were things that we were feeling. There are other characters like Bitterness and Anger who are relatives of Much Afraid that throughout the book try to thwart her journey. Change Much Afraid to Jars of Clay, and those are things that we experienced. There are moments of deliverance where Much Afraid’s at the end of her rope, and she gets delivered… and a tour gets canceled. If one were to read that book, it would basically be a synopsis of the last two years for us."
"That and the movie That Thing You Do," jokes Haseltine.
While the title cut portrays redemption from fear and self, other songs on the album run the gamut, at one point basking in God’s mercy and grace, at others wrestling with human frailties.
"The message of Christianity is a hard thing to want to spend time pondering," says Haseltine. "The fact that we are sinners, that apart from Christ we’re nothing, those are things that are not easy to listen to, and yet [most] Christian music tries to make whatever they do easy to hear. It’s the good package mentality. When reality starts filtering into that, it tends to shake things up a bit because what people expect Christianity to be is not reality."
"It comes down to really believing that Christianity is completely relevant in a 20th Century world," says Odmark. "Our nature as faithless people is that it’s hard to believe that God could really meet us as bad as we are and as messed up as things are."
But with Much Afraid, Jars of Clay embraces both- the divine and the human. It represents the pilgrimage of four young men walking- sometimes gingerly, sometimes expectantly- through a real world pursuing a very real faith.
"[Much Afraid] is born from the everyday experiences of life and tapping into the longings of one’s soul," remarks Smith. "I cannot listen to it without feeling tremendous hope, knowing that it is indicative of [Jars of Clay’s] struggle and growth in their own journey as they’ve been trying to deal with growing up from boys to men."
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