More than a year ago, I was heavily questioned locally as to why a Christian pastor would be listening to and writing about a song called “New Pagan Love Song.” From Paul Brill’s album of the same name, I rejoiced over the song in review and wrote a devotion based on the song. Both postings explained how I interpreted the song as to see it pointing to the truth of the Bible. It was an exercise in recognizing the “truth telling” going on in art outside of the so-called Christian world.

Because of the criticism of my writings and Music Spectrum, I gathered many letters of support from artists, industry people, and readers, who all expressed their support for what I am doing: connecting the Christian faith to a wide-range of music. One letter of support came from Paul Brill who said, “I am glad that you could relate to “New Pagan Love Song”; always gratifying when people grasp your meaning. I’m honored to be considered as a Devotional.”

Recently, I had a chance to talk to Paul Brill about his soundtrack work, the new album, and things philosophical/spiritual. He began by telling me about his soundtrack work as he had just finished music for the documentary, The Devil Came on Horseback, which follows an ex-Marine captain who becomes a peace monitor in the Sudan in the Darfur region.

While Brill’s music has an eclectic range and incorporates many elements, I asked him how he went about creating music for a movie about a place where he has never been. He explained that it was challenging and very emotional dealing with the story’s material, but that the musical process for him is intuitive. I like to synthesize different elements. Electronic stuff and bring it together with Eastern stuff.” He set out to create something “atmospheric, haunting, a soundscape,” letting the music work like the soundtracks of The Constant Gardener, Syriana, and The Motorcycle Diaries.

Although not versed in the music of the Sudan, he listened to “a lot of North African music. I [had] lived for a short time in Kenya and Tanzania, and recall the jangly guitar of East Africa.” He also took inspiration from the rapper Emmanuel Jal, who originally came from Sudan.

The soundtrack work certainly influenced the sound of Brill’s album Harpooner, released a few months back. It is lounge jazz peppered by sampled quirks (“I Take It Back”). There are tribal rhythm drums (“That’s the Way”). Brill crafts pop songs, but then as on “Don’t Tell Them,” he takes those pop songs back to vaudevillian days while even evoking border tunes. As the album closes with “And So to Sleep…,” it seems as if Brill works in the realm of the solo projects by members of the Church (Marty-Wilson Piper, Steven Kilbey)—music which creates a world out of mishmash, hummable sounds.

Brill admits that a lot of people were not ready for Harpooner given expectations based on the sound of New Pagan Love Song. Even Brill seems surprised by the result. “I thought it was going to be this be upbeat, rock record. But it’s a dark, brooding statement of mortality.

“The new record has been a lot more polarizing. I took a lot more chances on it. I kind of actualized a lot of the ideas I have about music. It’s my own sound and my own voice. It’s a little bit more complicated, more involved, it’s not an easy listen. People don’t want to give pop music a deep listen. I get frustrated if people respond in a knee jerk way without giving it a real listen.”

Brill then quickly adds, “I’m happy; I’m not bitter.”

There’s an element throughout Harpooner where the music comes as if waves on the beach. This is encouraged by the cover artwork: a picture of Brill on the beach on Long Island which was then turned into a lino cut to produce a colored print. The forlorn beach scene (aural element and cover artwork) recalls the words of the Cure, “Standing on a beach with a gun in my side/Staring at the sea, staring at the sand.” Brills own explanation of Harpooner is just about as dark:

“There’s a narrative [in the album], which was a conscious decision. The story of the record: the narrator is this person who says if I’m sick and dying, if I were at the end of my life, I would just like to be put on a beach in the tropics and let it come as gracefully as possible. The narrator was ill, or just come to the end, lost his family. He goes to the ocean and is about to die or end his life. He is looking back on his life, thinking about his choices, experiences, imparting not in a dogmatic way.”

This storyline is developed with “Paris is On,” the stand out track on the album perhaps because it is musically the most developed—and perhaps because it is closest to the “upbeat, rock record” that was hinted at with New Pagan Love Song. The song builds from a kitchen sink mix to full on pop song with dance swirls. Yet, that climatic feel could not be there with the odd, tentative stabs at the beginning.

Brill tells the track’s backstory: “’Paris is On’ was one of the first songs I wrote for the record. It’s not really about Paris, more of an abstract place. I was immersed in this period of misanthropy. I was having difficulty with humanity in general. This character was driving away from something, a vehicle for his thoughts on how the world was changing, how it impacted him, the idea of getting away. Driving to the desert in the twilight. General escape.

“Here we are in this point of time when the planet is in big, big trouble. We’re only here for a little short breath of air. Objectively, it’s hard to deny that we are at the next point of history.”

Within Brill’s misanthropic anthem, the song can speak on a spiritual level recognizing the evil and good working in the world. Much like the Psalms of the Bible, the narrator is aware of being surrounded by enemies and his need for a Savior (“I need you like the sun”).

Harpooner is a philosophically engaging album, and although going back to New Pagan Love Song, Brill seems to think that that title track stood out because it was more philosophical than his typical fare. I had interpreted the song as a way of pointing to the emptiness of pagan rituals while also declaring a love for pagans, in that, they are in such need of the hope that comes through the Gospel. That interpretation did not inform Brill’s writing, but his vision in the song certainly exposes some of the same questions:

“I just had an idea of this primitive, ancient people who were maybe mythic or real, a place not touched by modern concepts or technology. They were worshipping their god or deity, or the elements. There was a volcano. They’re trying to appease their god, trying to make sense of the world, why evil would befall them. The song is about trying to have compassion, accepting your enemies, understand why the people do the things they do. Universal truths.”

“New Pagan Love Song” is Truth telling—Truth with a capital “T” as I see Truth being Jesus Christ. Perhaps more than Brill knew as he wrote it, the song speaks a Gospel-like compassion for those who are trying to make sense of their world but are not coming up with the right answers. Throwing someone into a volcano does not seem like the right answer—especially in the West regardless of your belief system. However, Brill offers a love song for these people, which is a Christ-like thing to do. Christ also offers them His love, showing them that they can put down their virgins, stay away from the volcano’s mouth, and still find that God has been appeased through the cross and they will find acceptance from the divine Father.

Thanks to Paul Brill and Scarlet Shame Records for the taking the time for this interview and also for the review CD.

The Devil Came on Horseback premiered at Sundance Film Festival in January 2007. Official description: The Devil Came on Horseback will expose the violence and tragedy of the genocide in Darfur as seen through the eyes of a lone American witness. Using nearly 1000 photographs taken by former U.S. Marine Captain Brian Steidle during his 6-month role as a military observer with the African Union, the film, leads you through the tragic impact of an Arab government bent on destroying its black African citizens. As an official military observer, Steidle had access to parts of the country that no journalist could penetrate. He was unprepared for what he would witness and experience including being fired upon, taken hostage, and being unable to intervene to save the lives of young children. Ultimately frustrated by the inaction of the international community, Steidle resigned and returned to the U.S. to expose the images and stories of lives systematically destroyed. . . .