"All fall down, hit the ground." Some of you remember that song, right? It was Sarah Masen's first big hit. The year was 1996, and with the whole "chick rock" trend heating up mainstream radio, with Christian radio following not too far behind, Sarah Masen, who debuted at the ripe young age of 21, seemed poised to take CCM by storm with her ridiculously addictive single. But it didn't stick. Sure, a few more radio-ready tunes followed, and Charlie Peacock's quirky protégé earned herself a decent following, but she had something in mind other than becoming the Alanis Morissette of Christian rock. What listeners had on their hands with Sarah's first album was a thoughtful, light, breezy collection of quirky poetry set to pop/rock music that tried a tad harder to be original than much of the "alternative" scene in those days. It proved to be a great road trip album, and to this day, it remains one of my favorites. But I'm not here to talk about that album. I'm here to talk about Sarah's second album (not counting her indie release, The Holding), which was sadly overlooked by much of the Christian music industry, likely due to even less of the radio-friendly formula.

Carry Us Through released in 1998, gathering mixed reviews from the community. Too many people were expecting "All Fall Down" over again, or at least a similarly bright mix of snappy drums, sprightly acoustic guitars, and Sarah's playful melodies running up and down through the entire record. What they got was this seemingly subdued and strangely organized collection of mostly softer tunes, and Sarah's ever-increasing penchant for lyrics that were hopeful but parabolic likely turned away two crowds - those who wanted their message preached plain and simple, and those who wanted more "rock chick" angst out of Sarah. It took this album a few months to grow on me, even though I bought it with the full understanding that it would sound nothing like the first one. If her self-titled debut made the ideal summer road-trip album, then this was definitely an ideal album for curling up by the fire with a good book during a long winter. It's still the same old hopeful, honest Sarah, only this time, the seasons have changed.

Seasons Always Change
The wind makes us afraid, no don't give in, 'cause we learn to love that way...
Alright, so I borrowed my analogy from the title of the first song. So sue me. This song is pretty much the opposite of anything you'd expect to lead off a "Christian rock" album. It doesn't rock, even though it does kick off with a friendly drum intro, and it's not all that explicit in its spirituality, choosing instead to vaguely describe angels as they watch a human couple growing and changing together. It may seem rather unorthodox to start off with a romantic ballad, but Sarah ensures that this ain't the typical "you and me and Jesus makes three" mush you'd usually hear on Christian radio. For starters, how many people would describe their lover as "a vision all undone, the best part of dreadful I've ever been a part of?" The song is a lovely testament to the tough times that relationships have to weather, and the opportunities presented in the harsh weather, such as making "angels in the snow" and "the sun shin[ing] through the rain". Electric guitars are present here, but they add a soft texture that only contributes more to the dreamy nature of the song. Sarah's lilting voice makes this song go down like a cup of cocoa on a snowy day.

The Double
He'll break a sweat to stop the rust, something like frailty is always underneath us...
When this track starts off, it's tempting to think that it's a slightly sped-up version of "Seasons", due to the drums and the texture of the guitars being similar, and so it's probably the only trifle I have left with this album after allowing the songs to fully sink into my brain. The lyrics are definitely intriguing - Sarah is addressing a rather uptight fellow who "has a double for his stunts" - in other words, he glosses over difficult conversations and uncomfortable situations as if they're not really there, preferring to keep his routine intact. If you've ever been driven crazy by a person who can't seem to engage in anything but small talk, then well, that's pretty much what this guy's like. Sarah sees underneath to the turmoil going on inside this person: "I know you'd like to rip it up and take a swing at the sky, but broken it won't fill you up." It's not too far from the sort of song that Shawn Colvin might record, and though it kind of bogs the first half of the album down, this ain't bad for the low point of an album!

Wrap My Arms Around Your Name
Save communion for the holidays, keep perception at a safe arm's length. Does Hallelujah wear the same old face?
You shouldn't be too surprised that this is the third ballad in a row. I told you Sarah had mellowed, but I promise you she's still just as endearing as she was on her first CD. This track opens with lush guitars and other folksy instruments that I can't put my finger on at the present moment, and rests upon a piano that for some reason reminds me of John Lennon. This may just be one of the most straightforward declarations of faith we've heard from Sarah yet, which is to say that there's still a bit of unraveling for the listener to do. Sarah seems to be embracing her doubts and questions as she reverently approaches God in this song, like a little girl approaching her mother or father to simply ask "Why?" She wants to know why the traditions of the church are the way they are, why seemingly deeply religious people can only be found on Sundays, why so much pomp and circumstance seems to hold her back from knowing God personally. This is the epitome of childlike faith, in my opinion, and in her charmingly obstinate way, Sarah quietly assures God that "I'll scrape the bottom 'til I'm good and ready old, and take the cup of kindness while searching for the gold."

Carry Us Through
When we think that it's over, baby, we find new things to be afraid of...
Here the pace picks up a bit, the drums providing a playful beat for the title track, which sounds a bit like something Sixpence None the Richer might have come up with after being isolated in the Louisiana bayous for a few years. It's a good old countrified, Southern-fried number in all the right ways, allowing a harmonica, and upright bass, and even a flute to shine through where they might normally be drowned out on your average pop record (if someone dared to even use such instruments in the first place). It's a song of encouragement that seems to find its roots in that old-time Gospel music, and it all comes together in a way that's difficult to explain, but trust me, it works. Sarah uses the Biblical analogy here, comparing the Holy Spirit to the wind that blows through, offering the cool breeze of sanity on a blisteringly hot day. Perhaps the seasons have changed after all.

75 Grains of Sand
The tension is evidence that I'm alive, and I'm able to respond to the movement of Spirit, the good, the terrible...
If anything on this record could be remotely classified as a likely "pop single", this would be it. As much as I've praised the earthy nature of the rest of the album so far, I have to admit that this bouncy number is my favorite on the album. It's the song you're most likely to have heard from this CD, since it was the one picked for record label samplers and so forth (including an enjoyable, if somewhat perplexing, spot on the ForeFront modern rock compilation Seltzer 2). The song is driven by a solid beat that morphs and changes through the whole thing, and yet remains steady, while other vocal echoes, synthesized effects, and yes, folksy instruments take their turns adding character to the song. As for what it's about - I can discern very little. It seems to be about the brevity of life, and the lessons we all must learn. The verses focus on two young girls, Penny (who has a new outlook this year, much like Sunny in Shawn Colvin's "Sunny Came Home") and April (who gets the distinction of experiencing "dawn only backwards, the sunset to start her day), and the questions they deal with in every day life. It would seem to be an fatalist dig at optimism if Sarah wasn't so darn cheery about it. But I know there's something more going on when Sarah signs "Hope sometimes can blind the heart, calling light what breathes like dark/Mistaken provisions can lengthen the distance and shatter our vision." That's a mouthful, but I think she's trying to say that someone up there has a bigger plan that the measly little things we hope for. Near the end the track segues into a Madonna-like section where Sarah talks, echoing herself over and over. You have to hear the song to understand what I'm talking about. It's folk in its overall attitude, but pop in its execution.

Jenni's Face
I don't know much about love, don't think it can replace belief...
This is a subtler song that bleeds in over the closing of "75" on some backwards-sounding guitar effects. It doesn't stand out as much, mostly due to a rather obscure story dealing with a friend of Sarah's who works in a factory with her father, and her cousin Jenni who is always "hoping with a German grace". I'm glad Sarah's content to just let her poetry be poetry at times, not always having to shine through with some blinding revelation. And I think the overall theme is the quiet nature of faith, hope, and love, but I couldn't tell you for sure. The acoustic guitar slides rather nicely through this song, but it doesn't pack the punch that some of the others on the album do.

Fragrance of Pink
Move toward my dark side, 'cause I'm threatened by mystery and matches, but I'll pick up the cup and swallow my past full of ashes...
Definitely one of the "sleeper hits" on the album, this song very suddenly made me wake up and take notice long after I thought I was familiar with the album. First of all, you've got some acoustic guitar contributed by Scott Denté, and background vocals from Christine Denté, and... wait a minute! She's singing with Out of the Grey! How cool is that? However, Sarah is still in charge here, and everything about this song screams artistic coolness, from the smoky trumpet that accentuates it here and there, to the punchier drums, to the gently pulsing acoustics underneath it all. When you examine the rather esoteric lyrics, it seems to be a praise song, but it's almost as if Sarah is writing from the point of view of a bee or spider or some sort of bug. "So catch me in love again and again/I'll spin light around Your name forternal again/I'm confessing my needs, whispering beautiful sweets/In stark orange and green, it's my own fragrance of pink." Say what? It's like she woke up from a beautiful dream (we'll get to that later) and grabbed a pen and paper in the dark of night and scribbled the whole thing down in a few minutes. Simply lovely, but sadly, one of those obscure tracks that will likely be forgotten in the annals of Christian music history.

Stories in My Pockets
Our destination Sunday is full of the unknown, mixing up the failure with the new, in hopes for something true...
As "Fragrance" fades, this song, with its airy repeating guitar line, creeps in like a quiet fog. The song seems to be a montage of life experiences, places she's visited, observations she's made, conversations she's had over coffee, and so forth, all rolled up into a summation of her career. In some ways, it's the struggle of the folk singer - to be honest even though your stories may not "sell, sell, sell". It may not have the acoustic brightness you'd normally expect from a folk singer - in many ways, Sarah is trying to do something different with her brand of subdued, electric folk - but it probably wouldn't be surprising to hear the very same sentiments on an album by Jewel or Dar Williams. Astute readers at this point will point out that I've made a bunch of comparisons to "secular" artists and very few to "Christian" artists. Well, Sarah is unique in her field, and getting pretty darn close to being unique in the world of music overall. Even if it won't sell, apparently.

Beautiful Dream Visions
Wondering if the birds are insecure, they talk as if they know which way is down...
This is a slightly more relaxed tune that gets a little more busy in the middle, but remains comfortably sparse for the most part. Again, it's hard to tell what Sarah's singing about here, other than some vision that she had, but the silent folk anti-hero inside of her still comes shining through: "The pens a rusty old sword cutting/It's infectious when I'm looking hard and wanting so much more." Still, I have to scratch my head at lines line "Kaw is just out of reach when needs are holding to the ground/Look up look down, I think you're sinking." What the heck is "Kaw"? Oh, never mind. Just listen to the song and be drawn in by the oddly-placed banjo, which duels interestingly with the electric guitar in the middle of the song.

Tears Like Flowers
And the moonlight touches its brother, and darling, does it have to end with two?
Though more subdue, this song brings back a poppier feel to end off the album, floating along on a comfortable drum beat and more lush guitar texturing. The song fits its title, being very "watery" in its nature, and the "healing waters" referred to in the chorus are a definite allusion to God's grace, but there's a catch - Sarah is singing about the grace being reflected through other human beings. Where many Christian artists seem to harp on and on about wanting God to come down and perform stellar miracles, Sarah comfortably asserts that there is a divine plan in quietly peppering the Earth with God's love through flawed people. It's the longest song on the album, at about 5:15, and yet it still seems to end too soon. That's probably one of my teeny-tiny complaints - I kind of wanted more of a finale. But then, subtlety seems to be Sarah's modus operandi here, so it probably wouldn't be appropriate to throw in a grandiose power ballad, now would it?

I've mentioned a few tracks being "poppy", and there are some lovely and catchy melodies to be derived from these songs, but Sarah's trick here seems to be how much she can get away with toning a song down and drawing attention away from the louder elements of the music to the array of extra instruments lying around, and to her sweet and quirky voice, which seems to be an amalgamation of Sixpence's Leigh Nash, a little bit of Sarah MacLachlan, and a less whiny version of Jewel. I'd recommend Sarah's music to anyone who likes the former artist - she may not be as smooth as Sarah McLachlan (whom she is often compared to - must be the name), but I think she knows how to make an album flow a bit better (I loved Surfacing, but what's with placing "I Love You" at track 2?). Sarah does a great job of affirming her Christianity while making this album a delight to many different spiritual seekers out there in a world to which most Christian musicians would never give a second thought. Now, if only the rest of the world had heard of her...

TRACK REVIEW SUMMARY
Excellent: 75 Grains of Sand, Seasons Always Change, Fragrance of Pink
Good: Tears Like Flowers, Wrap My Arms Around Your Name, Carry Us Through, Stories in My Pockets, Beautiful Dream Visions
Decent: The Double, Jenni's Face
Weak: NONE
Skippable: NONE

Website: http://www.sarahmasen.com

Recommended: Yes

Great Music to Play While: Romancing