Chris Rice is one of those artists who seems to be able to maintain some level of credibility as a creative singer/songwriter while managing to remain quite radio-friendly, even within a more conservative, adult contemporary format. Don't ask me how the guy does it. I suppose he's pulled off something similar within the boundaries of Christian music to what Norah Jones has done in the mainstream - he makes music that generally goes down smooth and feels like it's good for the soul, and yet he's not afraid to take a more cerebral lyrical approach when needed. I'd be hard-pressed to compare the two artists beyond that, since Norah approaches her mellow pop music from the realms of jazz and country while Chris enters the same territory by way of the folk route. But it's notable, in this day and age where anything radio-friendly (especially within CCM) is considered throwaway, that there are still artists whose names and faces are quite recognizable, and who a large percentage of the older market they're apparently aimed at seem to enjoy, who are also seeking to keep the creative juices flowing from album to album.

Chris Rice may not quite have achieved the "household name" status in CCM that it looked like he was headed towards when he first showed up - but the anti-celebrity youth worker (really, he's not much for glitz and glamour) has definitely made a name for himself with James Taylor-esque folk songs like "Deep Enough to Dream", pensive piano ballads such as "Welcome to Our World", and for better or worse, the out-of-control gag track "Cartoons". While I've always approached Chris's music with a warm sense of familiarity, I don't know if I fully connected with his songs until his third album, Smell the Color 9, came along in 2000. Somehow, his knack for asking questions and using clever metaphors to point to Christ really hit home in that album, even as he bravely admitted that he had his doubts and temptations to turn against his loving Father, and as he tried to explain, using his most misunderstood analogy so far, how he ultimately believed in a God that he didn't expect was meant to be detected with our five human senses. Perhaps such an admission made some of his audience uneasy. Or perhaps they just forgot about him as he went off to do a pair of stripped-down, intimate instrumental recordings called The Living Room Sessions. But thanks to a supportive label (Rocketown) that seems to believe in artistry and not just the bottom line of making big bucks, Chris is still around and able to offer us his insights on his latest album of new material, Run the Earth, Watch the Sky, which was released some time in the middle of 2003.

Hmmm... Run the Earth, Watch the Sky. If you've been following the softer side of CCM for at least as long as I have, then that album title might seem eerily familiar to one the late Rich Mullins came up with - Winds of Heaven... Stuff of Earth. It's no surprise, I guess - Rice has been compared to Mullins before, since both have a cerebral, somewhat earthy bent to their music, and aren't afraid to let their musical style be malleable when a song calls for it. We've seen a lot of potentially worthy successors to Mullins' paradoxically humble throne since his passing - modestly successful acts such as Andrew Peterson and Sara Groves come to mind. While Chris Rice has been around longer than either of those acts, and he was actually already becoming popular when Rich was killed in a car accident in 1997, I think it's fair to say that it'd be worth reintroducing yourself to Chris's music if you enjoy any of these other artists. Run the Earth, Watch the Sky is one of those albums that toes the line between folk music and pop music, occasionally coloring outside the lines and sounding like a caricature of the more whimsical and cheesy side of Christian music, but for the most part acting as a gentle and effective meditation on the pasts and presents of our lives on Earth as we anticipate a future spent with our Creator. It's not necessarily easy to get there from here, and while the tone of Chris's songs is generally a happy one, I don't think he comes up short in realistically conveying the longing and doubt we humans sometimes feel. In between the thanks and praise, there's a clear sigh of "Are we there yet?" that's only fitting given our limited wisdom and patience. If you can relate to that sentiment, then I think Run the Earth, Watch the Sky might just be up your alley.

The Other Side of the Radio
Somebody started thinking about the third line
And maybe someone's saying a prayer for the first time...
If Chris ever had a song that was designed for radio, then this would have to be it. Normally, I'd frown upon such a thing, since I see Chris as more of an understated, folk storyteller type of guy, but for every upbeat and perky pop song he's done, I can see a good reason for the musical accompaniment being as it is. This tune is no exception - with its dry, muted guitar riff, playful synthesizers and loud drums, it's intended to hook the listener immediately so that they'll listen into a song about... well, about having a song on the radio. Chris is basically trying to imagine how the listener perceives him from "the other side" when one of his songs inevitably comes across the airwaves (something which he'll probably never get used to), and he takes the time to say that while he doesn't think he's a more important person just because his voice can be heard on the old FM dial, he does hope that amidst the bopping and bouncing to fun tunes, he'll manage to lead somebody to think or pray about something that they haven't before. OK, so his view of Christian radio may be a bit more optimistic than mine - I'm not one of the ones "tuning in for some good news and laughing along with the DJ". Radio is hardly the inspiring source of thought that Chris seems to hope it is - but then, I don't think he's at all to blame for that.

Everything's OK
Looked out my window last night from my pillow
And I saw the willows weeping a causal sigh
Man in the moon looked rather sad and confused
As if he'd become a mirror into my watery eyes...
You can probably guess from the title that I was going to have a bit of a tough time with this one. Admittedly, Chris has gotten albums off to a better start, but what he's got here isn't bad. This song actually has a warm flow to it, using bubbly synths in a more subdued manner as he builds a mildly playful tune around his acoustic guitar. This song is basically Chris retelling a lonely night that some unspecified person, in some unspecified way, made a little easier for him. It's vague on the details, but long on imagery, which helps to offset the abhorrent cliché that caps off the chorus. Lines like "A blue sky smile on your funny face", while a bit too Sesame Street for my tastes, are well-played within the context of the melody, which makes interesting use of seventh chords as it weaves back around to its starting point in an unexpected manner. It's a song that I appreciate more for its subtleties than its overall execution - not one of the best on the album, but pleasant enough to not drag it down.

Nonny Nonny
My adolescent 70's read just like the Pevensies' Adventures
'Cause every perfect now and then, I caught a glimpse of Aslan's mane
And I longed for His treasure...
The third track is where Chris really starts to work his magic. Starting off with a wistful vocal echo of "Run the earth and watch the sky", a high-strung acoustic guitar then proceeds to lead the way through a dreamy ballad that finds Chris remembering the innocent days of his childhood and realizing that there's something of Heaven to be found in those early adventures. The nonsense words in the chorus are quite similar to the underrated song "Everybody Free", which he wrote for Michael W. Smith, evoking memories of children at play in the forest. As the song progresses and Chris is brought back to his present-day, grown-up self, he realizes that the storybook is only beginning, that his mortal life is "only the first sentence of eternity". Man, I love that analogy! While a lot of folks probably see Chris Rice as the more stripped-down type of musician, it actually works to his favor that there are a lot of studio-crafted subtleties filling in the gaps of this song. One moment, when he ponders how his biography is intertwined "with billions", those two words seem to dissipate and echo off into the distance, as if the camera has panned out and Chris has become an insignificant speck in a massive crowd. Little details like that are often what make my day in songs like these.

Untitled Hymn (Come to Jesus)
And like a newborn baby, don't be afraid to crawl
And remember when you walk, sometimes we fall...
A Chris Rice CD just wouldn't be the same without a simple piano ballad. Here, Chris follows a formula similar to "Welcome to Our World", and delivers a hymn with short verses and a constantly changing refrain - "Sing to Jesus", "Cry to Jesus", "Fall on Jesus", "Fly to Jesus", etc. (My guess is that the "Untitled Hymn" only has a subtitle for radio purposes, given how your average listener couldn't name the artist who sings their favorite song, much less the title if that title isn't contained in the chorus.) This hymn, which changes keys a few times as the music escalates, is basically a simple set of encouragements to a new Christian, little inspirational thoughts to help them through each phase, including the inevitable times of failure and doubt. It's the kind of thing I can see working well as an "altar call" song, though I think it's more intelligently and artfully composed than most songs written with that sort of a scenario in mind.

Smile
My journey's here, but my heart is there
So I dream and wait, and keep the faith, while You prepare
Our destiny, 'til You come back for me
Oh, please make it soon...
Another high point of the album occurs here when Chris offers up another heavenly-minded song. Drawing on the same theme of doubt and sometimes not being able to "feel" God's presence that fueled "Smell the Color 9", this simple prayer is laid out like a more conventional pop song without being too overloaded with stuff. It's got a good balance of "extra" things like a quiet vocal line that Chris echoes behind himself during the chorus, the slight touch of strings, and some hand percussion, but these things don't overwhelm the core elements of the song, or the meaning. This is allows the chorus to carry some momentum without being overbearing as Chris pleads "I just want to be with You, I just want this waiting to be over." I love how the song goes about returning to its melodic starting point, building tension with the lines "Every minute takes an hour, every inch feels like a mile, 'til I won't have to imagine, and I finally get to see You smile." The chords A flat and B flat are being traded off during that section, finally resolving to the expected C on the word "Smile", which hits with all of the joy of a kid on Christmas day. At the end, the song trails off into an acoustic, dream-like state that perfectly captures Chris's longing to lift the veil and be at home with his Creator.

8th Grade
Remember the days when life was not so mysterious
Follow me down the hall to the cafeteria
Where the worst thing I could mess up
Was dipping yesterday's corn dog in last week's ketchup...
While I would never accuse Chris Rice of trying to sound like John Mayer, this might be one song where the two artists seem to converge. Take the nostalgia of a song like "83", and infuse it with a shot of "Clarity", and this is basically what you get. The difference would be that while John manages a smooth pop/jazz/folk hybrid while talking about even his most awkward moments, Chris decides to re-enact the giddy awkwardness of his subject matter - he's purposefully unsure whether he wants to jam with the feisty live drums, or croon Stevie Wonder-style with the classy horns. Either way, it's a good soundtrack for this little trip back in time, to a land of cafeteria food fights and boring math classes and girls who grew up seemingly twice as fast as you did. What Chris remembers now is mostly the good stuff - despite how embarrassing it all might have been at the time, he knows he made it through and he's a better person. And that makes his question all the more poignant, "Why does the past always seem safer? Maybe it's 'cause at least we know we made it. And why do we worry about the future when every day will come just the way the Lord ordained it?" I guess there's a bit of the cheese factor here, but since he's almost embracing his inner geek and he's making a good point in the process, this hardly registers with me.

My Cathedral
Take me off in wonder, robin songs and thunder
Surrounding me with stained glass leaves
That change with every prayer...
Those who have been waiting for Chris to slip back into quiet acoustic mode - this track is for you. Assuming you don't mind a few ethereal string instruments hanging around, of course. The focus here is on the gentle guitar picking, evoking a quiet stroll through the forest at night as Chris sings of his love for the outdoors. His use of metaphor is spot-on as he describes a place of worship unparalleled by any man-made structure - it's just him, the majestic trees, and a starlit sky. Once again, an "echo" trick is used to make us realize how small Chris feels in the grand scheme of things - each time his chorus ends in the words "Here in my cathedral", the last syllable floats away into the sky and I can envision Chris getting smaller and smaller below. Come to think of it, he used a similar trick on "My Prayer" from the last album. I can't blame him - it works quite well.

Me & Becky
She's got a Bible by the bed, a prayer journal, and a fish on her car
She makes sure to bow her head and give thanks in every restaurant
But is that enough?
If any song were to be chosen as the "odd man out" on this album, I guess it would be this one. Cranking up the whimsy level to five times that of "The Other Side of the Radio", Chris goes for a stranglehold with drum-programming, a joyous electric guitar riff, some perky "ba ba bas", playful piano interludes... shoot, this might as well be a Mark Schultz song. (Except I prefer Chris's voice.) It's as if he's purposefully going back to the old days when Michael W. Smith and Steven Curtis Chapman would overdo things in an attempt to be "hip" and come out sounding horribly cheesy. I think it's tongue-in-cheek, but I can't tell you for sure. In any event, this song is an ode to his friend Becky, who seems to have her heart in the right place, but who hasn't quite grasped the concept that there's more to the Christian life than living on "Abundant Life Boulevard", knowing all the lingo and worship song lyrics, and owning all the right bumper stickers. Real faith involves risk, Chris tells her, and there's no way to exercise it without going out to love a world that Jesus died to show love to. I've heard this message communicated more eloquently, and this is probably my least favorite song on the album because it sticks out like a sore thumb, but at the same time, I think its message helps to offset some of the other songs where it might be tempting for the listener to think that all Chris wants is to leave this miserable world pronto and be in Heaven where nobody can hurt him. Yep, there's a purpose for being here and not just being whisked away to paradise the minute we say that little prayer. So grit your teeth and get out there, Becky!

Wonder
Well, is it true You sang with the angels when Earth was made
And now I sing along with Your song while the music plays
And the harmony is building, 'cause the chorus can't be too far away...
This midtempo song is a bit of an easy one to overlook, since its pace is a bit plodding and it starts off rather oddly with what sounds like an unproduced, unplugged electric guitar being strummed. The production kicks in later, and before you know it, you're awash in another great metaphor of Creation as a song being sung by God. Chris was wise to seek vocal help for this one - the guys who provide background vocals have a certain quality to them that makes me think of Steve Mason's underappreciated work backing Dan Haseltine in Jars of Clay. The meshing of voices, and some little production touches like the flurry of piano triplets that flies by during the bridge, help to add to the sense of childlike wonder that has been rekindled within Chris's heart. I love the line where Chris asks, "Shall we dance from opposite sides of the universe?", and the drums kick in unexpectedly on the syllable "-verse", unexpectedly setting things back into motion. Yeah, this one's a grower.

Spare an Angel
She wonders further in the dark
Feels the cold and hears the thunder cry
While the rain keeps pouring down
Her only answer from the lonely sky...
One of the more personal and affecting songs on the album, this lonesome ballad finds Chris and his acoustic guitar playing a solo show, carefully picking out a tune as he tells the story of a girl who seems to have lost her way. Either she's suffered a huge loss, or she's walked away from her faith, or both, and not knowing what to say to her, he simply asks God if He wouldn't mind sending one of His best agents down to comfort her. It's kind of a kid's song concept being presented to grownups, since I don't really think guardian angels actually appear before people the way they do in the movies or anything, but still, the prayer for comfort and the reverent attitude of leaving the situation in God's hands is well-placed and well-described. The melody does a great job of adding just the right melancholy touch, too.

Circle Up
Now hear His golden voice above it all
He's saying this tear is the last to fall
A few simple words, another storm He calls
Invites us all into His arms...
If there were campfires in Heaven, then I guess this would be one of the songs that we'd sing around them. No big surprise there, since Chris considers his work with youth to be his primary task, putting music second - he probably finds a great amount of joy in going away to retreat camps with those kids, and imagines there's something of Heaven to be found in that. This anthemic chorus, wonderfully framed in beautiful acoustic guitar picking (provided by the uber-cool Steven Delopoulos), is basically Chris's imaginative description of our arrival in Heaven, when children of all nations and all times are brought together, tears are abolished, and our attention is turned to eternal praise. Chris makes this sound fun, like little children gathering around their grandfather's chair to be told stories. Pulling off a song like this in an artistic manner is no easy task, but it's clear by the time the chorus fades out (thankfully keeping a light touch with a flute and what sounds like the voices of children, and never giving way to total sonic bombast) that he's turned in one of his best tunes to date.

I'm actually surprised that I ended up loving this record as much as I do. I'd probably give it the elusive five-star award if it weren't for a few cliché lyrics and musical moments that just don't fit. Those little nitpicks aside, I definitely think that it's the finest record Chris Rice has put out so far, and it's turned me from a lukewarm fan into a rather excited one. While the fact that his label just put out a greatest hits package doesn't bode well, I'm gonna hold out and assume that we've still got a lot more good stuff to hear from Chris in the future. Even if he considers music his #2 career, it seems like he's just got too many lyrical and musical ideas to keep quiet for too long.

ALBUM WORTH:
The Other Side of the Radio $1.50
Everything's OK $1
Nonny Nonny $2
Untitled Hymn (Come to Jesus) $1.50
Smile $2
8th Grade $1.50
My Cathedral $1.50
Me & Becky $1
Wonder $1.50
Spare an Angel $1.50
Circle Up $2
TOTAL: $17

CONCLUSION: This album is worth paying full price for.

Website: http://www.chrisrice.com

Great Music to Play While: On a retreat to the mountains somewhere.

Recommended: Yes