This Beautiful Mystery
Terry Scott Taylor

(Reviewed by Brian Quincy Newcomb)

 

If asked to contribute to a hypothetical “Best faith-laced Rock & Alternative Music Albums of All Time” list, my contributions would be dominated by the music of Terry Scott Taylor. As I enter my fifth decade writing about “Christian rock” bands and their releases, there’s never been a time when records by Taylor’s primary band, Daniel Amos, (especially Horrendous Disc, Alarma!, and Doppelganger,) weren’t my gold standard of creativity and innovation in a musical field where those qualities were rare. DA’s last album was Dig Here Said the Angel in 2013, which came 12 years after Mr. Buechner’s Dream. And it’s been longer since Taylor made a singer/songwriter solo album, 12 years since the last Lost Dogs album, and even longer since we’ve heard from the Swirling Eddies. So, the arrival of a double album like This Beautiful Mystery feels like a visit from a dear old friend who’s been away too long.

 

In recent months, Taylor has been turning out fresh recordings from his home in Portland, Oregon for the folk in his Patreon community. Sometimes he revisits an older song, and sometimes he offers demos of new material. These “bedroom studio” recordings are often performed entirely by Taylor, extending his special relationship with some of his most committed fans. As the number of new songs grew, Taylor and some ardent supporters promoted a Kickstarter campaign to help fund a new album. The result is this double-album masterpiece.

 

This Beautiful Mystery opens with the ethereal tones of “Be That As It May,” which will likely remind long-time Taylor fans of his early solo albums, Knowledge & Innocence and A Briefing for the Ascent. Those albums considered the influence and mortality of his grandparents. “Be That As It May,” which also muses on human frailty, mortality, and failings, extends the thoughts on Mr. Buechner’s Dreams’ closing cut “And So It Goes” from 2001. The second track, “Signs & Wonders,” echoes Taylor’s early work similarly. However, this time, the song is dedicated to his granddaughters Eva and Mia and is inspired by the “grace” of their sweet faces. These artistic echoes, reverberations, and re-examinations add to the listening experience.

 

Lest you think once edgy rocker has become “kinder and gentler” in his later years, Taylor hits us with the punchy rocker, “The Meek.” This scorcher is driven by the solid beat of DA’s veteran drummer Ed McTaggart, (with percussion support from DA’s one-time second drummer Alex MacDougal and Iona’s Terl Bryant.) Original DA bassist Marty Dieckmeyer shows up as well, delivering an earth-moving bass line worthy of the late Tim Chandler. Taylor even brings in DA’s two historic guitar players, Jerry Chamberlain and Greg Flesch, to beef up the rhythms to a raw roar and then, surprisingly, steps in to play the song’s bristling guitar solo himself. The juxtaposition is fun. He reflects on the promise that those who refuse to abuse their strength and who walk in humble quietude will inherit the earth (with a wink toward them as “fools that turn the other cheek.”) He names the ultimate winners, calling out repeatedly, “The meek! the meek! the meek!” While there are echoes of DA throughout this 21-track collection, here we get the most vital and vivid reminder of what a kick-ass band they are.

 

Once he has blown out the cobwebs and disabused you of any notion that a 71-year-old grandfather can’t still rock, Taylor settles in. Much of what we find throughout the remainder of This Beautiful Mystery is the artist – aided and abetted by more of his many musical friends – at his poetic and melodic best. On most of this fine double-album, Taylor is joined by long-time DA keyboard player Rob Watson, who adds traditional keyboard work and composes the string and horn orchestrations throughout. The principal rhythm section on much of the project consists of Swirling Eddies drummer David Raven and DA/Lost Dogs utility man Paul Averitt, who admirably fills Chandler’s big and wide shoes. Taylor is also joined by guests including Phil Keaggy, Mike Roe (77s and Lost Dogs,) Jimmy Brown (Deliverance), with additional drumming by his son Andrew and Jesse Sprinkle of Poor Old Lu. Derri Daugherty of The Choir reprises his role as DA’s early live sound engineer by mixing about half of the album. Famed studio engineer and producer Mark Linnett, who remixed many of The Beach Boys’ classics, including Smile Sessions, and Pet Sounds Sessions, mixed ten of the songs as well.

 

Taylor’s long-time fans will love most everything here, of course. But many of these songs would fit nicely in any eclectic indie rock format. “A Song You Cannot Hear,” percolates around a melody that taps lots of Taylor’s natural inclinations, while he strives to sing a “deeper song” of a “love strong enough to assuage your doubt.” “Worried Waters” seems to compare the chaotic seas of Gen. 1:1’s narrative of creation with our modern sense of anxiety, only to remind us that “all will be well,” because life itself is good.

 

There feels like a bit of Swirling Eddies’ satire at work in “The High-Tech Tribulation Force,” which takes on a theme that goes all the way back to Taylor’s first album. With this “Tribulation Force,” however, Taylor parodies military images of a Lamb of God action figure who seeks “the blessing of this violence,” reminding believers that Jesus is better remembered as the Gentle One. To further stress the point, Taylor suggests in “These Are The Last Days (For You and Me)” that “Armageddon’s on the back burner now” for the “late great planet earth,” so we should realize our own time is limited, and “draw on love when the weapons get drawn.” As we find ourselves “In Our Waning Days,” we should avoid “little tin gods with a jones for praise,” and keep our eyes on a “more enlightened Christ with ready advice” because “we need a Lover… who will bring us home.” (Whew!)

 

Taylor concludes the first chapter of this epic musical masterpiece with “Deep Calling,” an attempt to cast the sufferings we experience in this life in life as a sign of God’s desire for us to see that everywhere we turn we are on “Holy Ground.” Then in the grand and glorious “This Beautiful Mystery,” which opens the second disc, we are warned that we cannot “grasp love this profound,” or limit ourselves to “brick and mortar theology.” Something far greater than our imagination is at work in the “paradox,” and “parable,” of the signs and wonders that await us when we live not by knowledge but by faith – not in certainty but by mercy and grace.

 

Then Taylor honors some of his other long-time literary influences. In the orchestral pop tribute, “The Everlasting Man,” he sends a love letter to G.K. Chesterton and a reminder for us to “love the saved, love the damned/like you and me.” It also includes a fun quote from St. Francis and a kicking rock beat. Then with a more subtle, brooding arrangement, Taylor captures the dark poetic imagery that fills O’Connor’s “Christ-haunted” stories when he invites us to see through “Flannery’s Eyes.” In a touching moment, the opening measures of “From the Case Files of C. Auguste Dupin,” (Edgar Allen Poe’s fictional detective,) Taylor adapts a brief but potent bit of the late Tim Chandler’s bass playing, accompanied by layers of effected guitar ambiance by Phil Keaggy, to establish the dense, spooky mood of the piece. The next track offers some wonderful contrast to those darker tones as Taylor asserts (along with George and Louisa MacDonald) that “A Great Good Is Coming.” It’s set to a big, bright Sgt. Pepper’s-like refrain, because “there’s much more here than meets the eye… inside the world’s great dissonant roar is the stillness of the kingdom come.”

 

On the surface, “Ave Eva!” tracks a grandfather who loves reading classic children’s literature (including references to MacDonald’s The Golden Key, Kingsley’s Water Babies, Burnett’s Secret Garden, Carroll’s Alice In Wonderland, and Lewis’ Narnia Chronicles.) A closer look reveals a reminder to a child that when the elder has gone beyond the mortal coil, they can still be found in the ever after “reading there beneath the portrait of your face.” Then in the wistful, ethereal “The Real Dream,” Taylor imagines “the more of something else” that awaits us all in that inevitable future. Assuaging the grief that inevitably accompanies the loss of a loved one, Taylor visualizes joining “The Cloud of Witnesses,” where he can watch his granddaughters live out their lives, knowing that here in the meantime all he can do is his very best. It’s a dear and lovely affirmation, if also bittersweet. That image continues in “Under The Mercy,” where he resigns himself to submit to the “irresistible tide” of love.

 

The long, lovely journey of This Beautiful Mystery concludes with a final paradox/ parable. “Talitha Kum,” which is based on one of the few Aramaic phrases that make it into the Greek language Gospels, dreams an exotic fantasy in which the singer meets the ghosts of C.S. Lewis and JFK. Like all the sleeping dead, the specters hear Jesus say, “Rise, child, you’re only sleeping.” Like many of a certain age – especially those of us who have had a close encounter with illness – Taylor’s mind is on that which awaits us: the hope that we rise again to our loving Savior.

 

Terry Scott Taylor has given us a great gift in this musically and lyrically rich rumination on life’s greatest mysteries. He generously invests his humanity and longing for connection into every track. Though I can’t imagine how this music will be heard by someone unfamiliar with the vast amounts of music that Taylor has offered throughout the years, as a fan of nearly five decades I find it to be a welcome gift of great depth. Though Taylor has suggested this might be his final major release, I hope there’s still more to come. If this is his ultimate creative contribution, however, it is a strong closing chapter. – BQN