In the early days of rock’n’roll, it was either a type of music that set you free or condemned your soul to hell. The perception that rock music was capable of moral corruption was based on an archaic racist society. But what happens when so many decades after its initial revolution, rock music and theology come together for an album that expands the diversification of a genre in combination with the analysis of ancient texts? The result is Raphael’s son Full-throated Messianic homage—a lush and complicated opus that feels uplifting even when you don’t know which specific psalms the brethren are referring to.

Tribute is the debut album by Loral and Ronnel Raphael. His ten tracks have been in preparation for seven years and were mixed by the late audio enthusiast Phillipe Zdar. The brothers envision broad topics of truth and faith while also referencing elements of ’60s girl groups, late’ 70s post-punk, ’80s glam rock, and art rock. modern. Supercups of kneeling prayers until death and strait-jacket angels light up thick-walled arrangements.

After a few laps, it might not surprise you that the Raphael brothers grew up in a house fascinated by theology. Their parents studied religion and cults, and were led to name one of their sons after L. Ron Hubbard. Ronnel continued this fascination with ecclesiastical devotion by studying theology for three years at Oxford. All of this personal history lent itself to the “postmodern dossier” of Sons of Raphael, which challenges an omnipotent god and the people who strive to follow his word.

There is a reason behind every reference and sound embellishment on Messianic homage with open throat, and Ronnel Raphael sent us an appendix for the album, which is separated into four chapters. Listen to the album below and read the thought process behind the detailed work.

A revolt against time, space and history

1. “Revolution”

A revolt against time, space and history in an effort to redeem the faith from being hijacked by literalist religious beliefs which could in turn lead to a dangerous development of a eugenic religion. The God who exists only in our faith isolates himself more and more in a world dominated by objective theism on the one hand and militant atheism on the other: “My God has no friends but me. . The wild horse of revolution is called as we try to free ourselves from a future morally oppressive society “where killers and messiahs are identical twins”.

Sonically, the synthesizer-to-outro symphony combines all the strength of two Moog modules and an Arp 2500, living together in unity. By the time we were ready to mix this song, we ended up with so many tracks that we almost gave Zdar (in blessed memory) a heart attack.

2. “He who makes the darkness of the morning”

Inspired by the representation of God in the book of Amos, “He who makes the darkness of the morning” presents us with a fascinating paradox: a God who transforms the darkness into the morning but can also “make the darkness of the morning” (Amos 5: 18); in other words, a God who will use his power not only for the good of his people but also against them if necessary. The God who initially nourished his creation: “who laid the cosmos with a parquet floor and pinned young angels to the ceiling” becomes a destroyer of what he himself had created: “Now the parquet is twisted and the earth sick. cries and more angels on the ceiling. “

Enraged by the sins of his adulterous wife (the virgin Israel) who committed “extra-national affairs” with foreign nations, God brings about the Day of the Lord – “a day of darkness, not of light” (Amos 5:18 ). This raises an eternal moral dilemma: How can an almighty God allow such great suffering in the world? Can we detach faith from history? This song is the crème de la crème of our wall of sound vision, a tough, swaggering production starring over 50 people performing together. The number of instruments we have multiplied to record this song is greater than the number of descendants of Abraham multiplied by God.

3. “Music of the sirens”

“Siren Music” questions our spiritually obsolete language: “Dry gorges of empty words like wadis thirsty for God. He laments the loss of God in our language which is undergoing a process of secularization, with an outcry to reconnect our generation to God through the language. A city becomes a mirror of the human condition while a resurrection towards God is envisaged: “magic carpets carry our souls”, representing the urgency of a “theo-semantic” expansion of poetry.

However, it becomes evident that the truth is too frightening to be dealt with “in a world that wants to be deceived”, and inevitably the fate of the human condition remains the same: “Unnamed, we were lying dead on the ground. It was the first song Zdar (of blessed memory) mixed, unleashing his vision of what he called a “post-modern record”, featuring our futuristic fuzz guitars and synthesizer arpeggiators mixed into an orchestra. and a choir.

A modest contribution to romance

4. “On dreams sent by God”

A love song in homage to Philo’s treatise: “On Dreams, That They Are God-Sent.” The teeth of the original recipient of this song have since straightened (seven years have passed), raising an important poetic dilemma: can we reorient the recipient of a love song?

5. “Devil Devil”

Attempt to place dynamite under the very foundations of the bourgeoisie and free the eternal spirit from the imprisonment of the flesh: “Devil, devil, bourgeoisie, won’t you set me free.

6. “Yeah yeah yeah”

Those who have cried will rejoice and be happy. Perfect illustration of keeping things simple, cheerful, and repetitive – a rare occasion on this album, but you have to taste bitter first to understand the sweet. The song flows in an abundance of fuzz, fulfilling our father’s prophecy – “being good at rock n ‘roll and rock n’ roll will be good for you.”

Life as a simple platform for death

We didn’t want to scatter death songs like ashes around the album. Putting them together under this chapter was our way of making peace with them, of redeeming this album of death.

7. “Oh mom”

A cry for help in the style of Psalms lamentations (eg Psalms 69). Carnivorous plants are the enemies of man, those who hate him without a cause and devour his “sweet words of love and romance”. This plea for deliverance, contrary to the lamentations of the Psalms, ends with a submission to despair – a pessimistic recognition that man’s fate will never cease to exist: / Since the land of milk and honey is a dream of the passed / Carefully devoured by carnivorous plants. The arrangements of the instrumental section feature a memorable figure of descending celestial arpeggiators dubbed an ARP 2500, accompanied by a professional whistler.

8. “I sing songs for the dead”

The song explores the practice of veneration of the dead and the politics of postmortem existence, heralding a war on the psychiatric industry – an industry of death: “I consult the dead for their opinion / To reduce the costs of psychoanalyst / Lipstick in the blood of my wrists.

The savior of “Oh Momma” who does not appear in our dreams is now anointed with gasoline, symbolizing that this world is too narrow to contain a rebellious soul: “I sing songs for the dead because I died to those who are alive. ” The instrumental is filled with irrepressibly uplifting phaser guitars and a flurry of percussion instruments.

9. “Let’s all kill together”

The song challenges a cynical world that winks at death, where “suicide is an Olympic sport” and where all-inclusive vacations are forever; suicide has become so intrinsic to the universe that it is now “a mandate from heaven”. The lyrics are not to be literally respected – their straightforward nature sets a tone of skepticism that is meant to be challenged and is in no way a call for mass suicide. While recording this song, we asked the choir to sing along with the merry music of outro with a Christmas spirit in order to create a surreal atmosphere where commercialization and death meet:

“Let’s all go together, let’s put our dreams aside
Don’t care about each other, swim in the cyanide
Let’s all go together, and let’s go far
On inexpensive (eternal) all-inclusive vacations ”

A literal reading of the lyrics will put readers in danger of surrendering to precisely what the song challenges – a world surrounded by literary horizons, where life is just a platform for death.

A resurrection

Following our death songs with resurrection is our way of saying “Kaddish Over Death”. This ensures that the album doesn’t end with a tragedy after Zdar’s death, but becomes a celebration of life.

10. “The sand dunes are rising”

The sand dunes soar towards a restoration of the world to its original integrity. There the earth can forget and our prayers dissipate, useless as we renew our covenant with God. It is in this utopian state, however, that we are reminded of the striking fact that “there is nothing new under the sun” (Ecclesiastes 1: 9), human nature has been and always will be the same.