Caden Stone – For The Devil
A recent statistic showed that fewer than 20% of Christians have actually leafed through the Bible, the text that, technically, they are working to obey. The situation is equal or worse, one would imagine, when it comes to other religions or spiritual beliefs. It’s, frankly, no wonder that some dedicated themselves to the Flying Spaghetti Monster; some end up in bizarre cults chanting mindlessly, and others simply make a dash away from all organised religions.
And while professional writers who grew up in rural areas typically love to write about how they found and kept religion there, and how God himself and all his saints reside in the countryside, for many, all of these ideas are a little stifling. Caden Stone knows a thing or two about this. All of the regulations, threats and attempt at controlling the lives of churchgoers makes some not only want to have little to do with religion, but to despise it once they become full-fledged adults.
People can barely organise a bake sale for charity, let alone turn themselves into the keepers of the true flame of one religion or another. Caden Stone’s “For the Devil” isn’t really a pro-satanist song at all. That’d be too easy to do and should be left to hacks like Motley Crue and their metal brethren.
No, “For the Devil” is a protest song against organised religion and all the people who get into this racket for the power and the money, but with little understanding of what regular people hope to find in it. Musically, Caden Stone ends up sounding like a gothed-up young Trent Reznor, the very cartoonish imagery of sin and debauchery that those in the business of religion try to sell. But, then again, organised religion is all about type-casting.
Slightest Clue – Cauterized
There isn’t one single rockstar that I’d like to watch a scripted reality show about, and I invite you to feel the same. All of these shows with fake scripts, phoney arguments and no real sense of drama rob us of truly getting to know our favourite rock stars. And, at the same time, these shows teach the artists that revealing intensely dramatic details about their lives is somehow beneath them.
The greatest songs, I’m sure you know, are those written by people on the edge who no longer care about what it is that they reveal to the world. For the great writers, terrible breakdowns or the start of magical love affairs typically come right before an artistic breakthrough. The reality TV rockstars, on the other hand, are always doomed to produce cliches and hope that the world will connect with them.
“I showed you the worst in me,” Slightest Clue sing on “Cauterized” and, in some ways, in that lies the very essence of rock bands who manage to build long-lasting relationships with their fans. The band liberally borrows classic ’90s alt-rock dynamics, but avoids the cliche by focusing on the topic that they know best – themselves. And, in providing this kind of honesty, the group announces itself as an entity that can be trusted, people who will share their truths in order to make you feel safe about sharing yours.
