Anytime someone tells me that “the next U2” is here, I know that I no longer need to pay attention to what they are about to say. There will not be, nor should there be, another U2. But when I heard Steve Stockman, author of Walk On—arguably the definitive book on U2—tell a group at Calvin College that Bono and The Edge can soon step aside because a new band that is rising in the UK is here, I felt I had to pay attention.

Mumford and Sons, with their debut album Sigh No More, are a far cry from being the biggest band on the planet, but they certainly are positioned as one of the best new ones. Paste describes their music as “A delicate fusion of vintage Americana and English folk.” If you have not heard it already from Fleet Foxes, welcome to the sound of neo-acoustica. In a time where banjo is the new black in indie music, Mumford and Sons sounds familiar but strikingly more significant.

When sifting through this year's favorite albums, it did not take us long to deem David Bazan's Curse Your Branches "Album of the Year."  As we have already mentioned, recognizing particular artists/albums over others often says more about the listeners than it does the artist themselves.  We acknowledge this.

So, what does it say about us?

While rednoW is not solely dedicated to the fusion of art and theology, it certainly grabs our attention when it shows up.  And with Bazan's most autobiographical album to date, it has certainly shown up.  But it's not Bazan's particular theology that draws us in.  Rather, it is his ability to rest in the tension of reality - even if this means questioning his (our) perception of God.

rednoW Favorites 2009

Year-end "lists" are a funny thing.  They often say more about its contributor(s) than it does than the very thing it is hoping to promote.  We are okay with this.  It has been our mantra since the inception of rednoW to simply point others to experiences of wonder.  These two lists (music, film) are attempting to do nothing else.

Albums

Music has always possessed a certain transcendent quality about it.  Whether it be the captivating sounds or the thought-provoking lyrics, these albums have lured us in enough to hit repeat. If you are looking for a way to bring a little wonder into your ear buds, allow us to make a few recommendations from the year that has been.

Compiled by the rednoW team (and friends), our Albums of Wonder 2009 are listed by US release date rather than some ranking of 'greateness' - if they made the list, we think they are worth your time and money.

Think we missed something? Tell us what and why....we're all ears.

Who would have thought that Charles Darwin, the bearded Englishmen so universally admired and reviled, would make such a compelling figure for a hymn?  Of course, "Oh My God Charlie Darwin," the title track for The Low Anthem's second album, isn't a hymn per se.  You won't find this haunting tale nor it's companions on the album bound and hidden in a pew rack, though this hasn't stopped the New England band's fans from claiming their songs as irreligious spirituals.

Set the sails I feel the winds a'stirring
Toward the bright horizon set the way
Cast your wreckless dreams upon our Mayflower
Haven from the world and her decay

And who could heed the words of Charlie Darwin
Fighting for a system built to fail
Spooning water from their broken vessels
As far as I can see there is no land

There exists this tension within the band's lyrics: our desired salvation remains just out of reach.  The system itself, bound to decay, will ultimately betray our dreams of something more beautiful than what currently surrounds us.

If one is going to stand up to a God he has professed for most of his life, he better have a little swagger... and maybe even a little arrogance.  David Bazan's "When We Fell" carries just that, not only in its lyrical content but also in the blues-rock riff that makes this tune so damned catchy (pun intended?). "With the threat of hell hanging over my head like a halo I was made to believe in a couple of beautiful truths, that eventually had the effect of completely unraveling the powerful curse put on me by you." But after years of being told humanity's sinful nature is responsible for the damnation of the world, Bazan has seemingly tried to piece together a narrative that he feels doesn't add up. Bazan says he still believes in God, or a high power, but is uncertain of how the story of this high power matches up with all the brokenness in the world.

Because of this, there are those who have describe Curse Your Branches as Bazan's "break-up album with God." But Bazan refutes that to some degree. Bazan instead refers to his latest release as a "break-up album with a certain narrative of God." "When We Fell" seems to back up Bazan's comment. The bouncy blues-rock riff of this song echoes the old bitter break-up songs of the blues. But there's no "baby please come home" in this song. Bazan question's God's role in "the fall." If God is as powerful as we have been told over and over how is it that the world is in such shambles? And if it's not God's fault then it must be our fault? But if God made this all then what responsibility falls on God? Hmmm... good question David.

Well... he did it.  For all of you Pedro-Christians out there, if you were confused where David Bazan stood midst the Evangelical realm - it's official.  It's "outside".  Bazan's latest solo release Curse Your Branches proves to be his most autobiographical (and theological) album to date.    Though committed to shed the Pedro moniker, Bazan's captivating sound remains.  Hypnotic vocals.  Patient melodies.  Narrative irony.   And theological undertones.

But don't let the familiarity fool you.  This is a different album.  A notion we explored at a recent house show we (rednoW) hosted this past April.  When asked whether there was a difference between his familiar "poking at the Christian community" and this album, Bazan asserted that Curse Your Branches is more "Here I am, take it or leave it" - referencing  his departure from the "fold of Evangelical Christianity".

The difficult part of writing on, or discussing, a meaningful experience is that we run the risk of diminishing what was more amazing for us than we can attempt to match with the words at our disposal. "Awesome" is overused. "Crazy" sounds too frantic. "Righteous" rings a bit too much of the eighties. Though I don't doubt your lexicon reaches beyond these clichés, a movie, a book, a poem, a concert that moves us (higher) incites some innate, beneficent desire to share, to want others to know the tingle, the warmth, the "a ha!", the inside joke, the connection, the lift. This business of communication is an important one, indeed, and we constantly, consciously or otherwise, probe the limits of language when sharing what happens in our lives with others.

Seeing Explosions in the Sky is an experience beyond words, causing one to wish that there were some beauty-language (i.e. Sigur Ros' Hopelandic) that would successfully express to another a taste of what this band is about, what they create onstage, weaving wonders of aural alchemy that turn to some kind of gold when spread about enraptured audiences. The Texas-based instrumental band visited Congress Theater in Chicago on July 2^nd. The day marked their ten year anniversary as a band which, with the difficulties that artists working together often face, quietly impresses. Standing at the lone vocal-microphone at stage right, Munaf Rayani, one of the three guitarists (there isn't any obvious spotlighting of a frontman) softly spoke his traditional and ever-perfect introduction for the band: "My name is Munaf, and we're Explosions in the Sky from Texas, USA," walking toward the band to the rumble of an audience already roaring with anticipation.

I have this small, black, fits-in-your-pocket, piece of technology that I currently refer to as my Gregory Alan Isakov Player. You probably have one to—you call it an iPod—that is only because you have yet to upload Gregory into your iTunes libaray.

Every summer deserves a soundtrack and This Empty Northern Hemisphere is likely my choice for ‘09. Hemisphere has a sound that demands a warm evening, a laid back gathering of friends and a few good drinks.

One of the pioneers of the emo-rock genre, it is probably fair to call Jeremy Engik (melo)dramatic. His 2006 album World Waits is a huge, sweeping sound that can only be described as drama in instrumental form. With rumors of Sunny Day Real Estate once again getting the band back together (this time with Nate Mendell peeling himself away from the Foo Fighters to make it a complete reunion) and another solo studio album dropping, Engik is keeping the drama rolling.