RockOm

Over the Rhine is an Ohio-based indie husband-and-wife duo with a huge devoted fan base and eleven studio albums under their belts. Known for their unique yet ever-changing sound and thoughtful lyricism, Over the Rhine has made a name for themselves while playing the industry game their own way. OTR's Linford Detweiler spoke with RockOm's Trevor Harden about their career, the band's newest release, The Trumpet Child, and the biblical imagery and whimsical political musings within.

Linford Detweiler: I think when people walk away desiring to be a better human being (laughs) that something important has happened. I know when I encounter any kind of creativity that moves me on some significant level that's one of my immediate responses. I just want to be a better person. I love that art can do that – there's something mysterious about how and why that happens. But that's what keeps it interesting and meaningful for us, to get caught up in that sense of creativity being a springboard to being more fully alive.

RO: You've also said that one of the things that Over the Rhine has been interested in – among other things – is "challenging the status quo and taking power away from those who have too much and transferring it to people who have too little." This sounds to me a lot like Jesus' saying that "The first shall be last and the last shall be first." In what ways has Over the Rhine's career and music promoted that attitude or approach?

L: I think some of it has to do with the ethos of the band and our do-it-yourself work ethic from the beginning. The music industry, the whole power structure of it, was centered around LA and New York and Nashville and there was a lot of discussion early in our careers about getting on board and moving to one of the power centers for the industry. But we took a little more of a communal approach; a little bit more of a historical approach, maybe, in that we opted to stay closer to home where we had roots, where we also had friends that had been important influences to us and where we had a sense of community. Right off the bat we said, "Thanks but no thanks," to aligning ourselves with some of the big industry structures and decided to strike off the beaten path a little bit. That being said, I hope our recordings have filled a niche on people's shelves and served a purpose in a way that they couldn't really find exactly what we were doing anywhere else. There was a little bit of something kind of strange and wonderful about what we were trying to do with our music. I think we gave permission to a lot of people to sort of strike out on some sort of creative journey with or without the partnership of a record label or a publisher and [promoted] the idea that everybody has something to contribute, something to say, [that] anybody that wants to live with their eyes wide open can participate in this bigger conversation.

RO: Your new album's title track, "The Trumpet Child," beautifully blends apocalyptic biblical images with some jazz references. Is this a fresh modern retelling of the Christian end-times Revelation story or does it have a second, metaphoric meaning?

L: "The Trumpet Child" was an interesting song for us in that it kind of veered into a new territory musically. There are a couple things going on there. Some of it was on sort of a personal level and there's also a bigger, spiritually symbolic level. On a personal level, one of my earliest memories was the sound of the trumpet at a camp meeting revival that my parents took me to. It kind of woke me up to the world; it really is one of my very first memories. The sound of that trumpet up on that little wooden stage appeals to my imagination and so the idea of a child discovering a trumpet was always a powerful image to me. I can remember the first time I heard a piano as well. It seemed like a strange little wooden house was calling my name when I heard what was coming out of it. There's also an image in the Old Testament about the lion lying down with the lamb, the earth being healed, and a child leading the lion – which is a powerful image that some of us grew up with in Sunday school. So there's some of all of that tangled up in there and I guess the song is just a riff on this idea that we hear over and over in gospel music that the earth might be reborn somehow with the sound of a trumpet. We were wondering what that might actually sound like and thinking of [how if] some of the great American horn players like Louis Armstrong and so forth did start blowing riffs in the sky, what kind of a musical ride that might be.

RO: And now just several weeks away from the big 2008 presidential election, I'm sure your song "If a Song Could Be President" takes on a timely significance. It seems to speak of how hope, democracy, love, and change can – as your lyrics state – "break us out of a minor key." How have you seen your thoughts about this song or your mindset while you're performing it change in light of the current political landscape we find ourselves in?

L: The song was kind of a whimsical little idea that popped up on our radar while making The Trumpet Child. We got to thinking about what might happen if we sent some of our personal favorite songwriters to Washington to help sort some things out. We got to wondering who might do what. John Prine could run the FBI. In concert, we talk about the fact that Tom Waits could be Secretary of State. Emmylou could be ambassador. I think those are all still really good ideas (laughs) but I think one thing that we were hoping that the song might contribute is this sense of reminding people that American music is something that we still hold in common regardless of political affiliation. It seems like as the political landscape sort of revs up that there's a lot of pressure on people to divide into separate camps, surround yourself with people that think like you do. There's very little opportunity actually for real conversation. We've noticed that if we go to an Al Green concert, it's one of the most beautiful mixes of people in the same place with a very diverse audience – black, white, wealthy people, working class, people that are drawn to the religious component of Al Green's gospel music, people that are there because they love the early love songs. It's just this big melting pot of America in the same room and music is the common thread that is getting people back together in the same place. I think people forget and take for granted all the music that could've only happened here in America – ragtime, blues, jazz, rock n' roll, bluegrass, country and western, or gospel music. There's so much music that has come from this messy experiment called America. So we were hoping that the song might be a reminder that music is something that can get us out of our separate camps and remind us that we are all Americans.

RO: Lastly, Over the Rhine is on tour and people can catch you all over the country. In December, you're doing a two night 20th anniversary concert in Cincinnati, back where it all started. What can people expect at such a special event like this?

L: We've put out quite a few CDs over the past 20 years so we've decided to break it up into two nights and focus on our first decade of recordings on the first night and the second decade on the second night. We've had a pretty amazing revolving door of musicians that have inspired us, contributed to these recordings over the years and toured with us. Obviously Ric Hordinski and Brian Kelley, the two co-founding members of the band, were extremely significant in getting the music of Over the Rhine off the ground. So they're going to join us on that first night and we're going to revisit some of those early songs we've not played in years. And yeah, just invite the people that haven't been around in a while to join in and hopefully make a bit of a lovely ruckus for a while.

www.overtherhine.com

[Edited by Andrew Hoogheem]

Discuss this article

Randy Newman might be surprised to see himself mentioned on a progressive spirituality blog. In his five decades of making music that is alternately brilliantly satirical and elegant (and sometimes both), he hasn't often smiled on religion or religious people. In spite of his skepticism about spirituality, he also has written some of the most beautiful love songs I've ever heard, and many of these are shot through with regret for his past mistakes.

The title song of his new record, Harps and Angels, sees him looking forward with a combination of reluctance and mystery to the prospect of his own death. At 64, he realizes that his time is short, and if the title song is to be believed, he may have come around to the idea that "there really is an afterlife." But the heart of the album is a quintet of songs in which Newman addresses the political, even spiritual landscape of the U.S. In quick succession, he names what ails the nation ("Y'all have lost faith in yourselves"), reminds listeners that the dream of "America" was built on the idea that everyone could have "a piece of the pie" (although few seem to care about current inequalities, says Randy, except protest singers), and makes some amusing (and provocative) assertions about just how to change things. The most impressive song on the album is a political tract. "Just a Few Words in Defense of our Country" speaks what is so often considered unspeakable in polite conversation -- the fact that we are living through a period in which the global political order we have known since the second World War is coming to an end. The song ends on a bleak note, with Newman bidding farewell on behalf of a U.S. that needs to relearn its place in a new international structure. He may be granted easy passage to say such a thing -- he's functioning much the same way as a medieval court jester, telling the king what he doesn't want to hear but wrapping it up in biting humour.

From my (hopefully) humbler position as an outside observer of the U.S., I think Newman is half right. The global order that we have known is clearly diminishing, and new relationships need to be negotiated. The fact that there will soon be a new U.S. president offers an opportunity for an energized and thoughtful approach. There will be very few people in Europe sorry to see President Bush leave office, and while international adulation for Barack Obama is obvious, there is also a recognition outside the U.S. that John McCain would at least try to rebuild the vastly diminished standing of the country if he is elected in November.

I can imagine the legitimate criticism for an Irish guy suggesting that the American empire is falling, and I would counter this by saying that I love the U.S. so much that I'm moving there next week (if you'll have me). I still see hope in the idea of the values that the U.S. at its best represents. Just for starters, there's a pioneering spirit, hospitality and kindness, the creative impetus, and a positive attitude about the future (serious theologians would call that something like "eschatological hope," I suppose). But I am also aware that limiting such hope to one nation's idea of itself has pretty tragic historical antecedents. I prefer to think in terms of the distinctive gifts and goals of a nation, and how they interact with those of the rest of the world. The U.S. has something special, which in recent times has been mislaid or perhaps even misappropriated by leaders who seem not to understand (or not to want to understand) that we are all in this together. Newman may well be right in asserting that the empire as we know it is falling, but answering the question of what will replace it is a task not just for politicians or provocative artists but for everyone who takes the common good seriously.

Gareth Higgins is a writer and broadcaster from Belfast, Northern Ireland, who has worked as an academic and activist. He is the author of the insightful How Movies Helped Save My Soul: Finding Spiritual Fingerprints in Culturally Significant Films. He blogs at www.godisnotelsewhere.blogspot.com and co-presents "The Film Talk" podcast with Jett Loe at www.thefilmtalk.com.

One of this morning's front page headlines reads "Hip-hop artist Nas protests Fox coverage of Obama." Whether you consider Nas as right or wrong, speaking truth or propagating prejudice, making a positive impact or simply promoting his new album, it is an example of a musical artist being an agent of change in the world - as many are wont to do.

Though, as a country, the United States tries to be very deliberate about the separation of "church and state," the line between spirituality and politics is blurred at best, and often completely overlapping. After all is justice a spiritual issue or a political issue? How about race relations or equality issues? Consider the Jewish prophets and their call for justice or the Tao Te Ching's instructions for governing the people. Especially considering musicians' causes and benefits, spirituality and politics are bound to intersect.

Politics are almost always divisive - but then again religion can be the same way. Since RockOm is about bridging the gap between religious and spiritual backgrounds, can the same not also happen with politics?

So today, let's use artist Nas' headline as a launching pad to discuss RockOm's coverage of politics.

RESPOND: How much do you feel a site about "music and spirituality" should dabble in political issues? Where is the line in your opinion? Or respond to other questions posed in the post above.