Dear Mr. Kilbey, Mr. Koppes, Mr. Powles, and Mr. Wilson-Piper:
I am writing to ask for your forgiveness. My sin was that of a lack of faith in the Church. After listening to your band faithfully since 1984, I had lapsed into other musical tastes and wandered off away from the band’s music sometime around the release of Sometime Anywhere. I write you as a loving admirer and fellow artist as I have now re-discovered the band’s inspired and breath-taking output since then, most recently with Untitled #23, a work of sublime resistance against world-weariness. It is an album created in a world and an earth established on a plane of insight so far removed from our dreary time of financial crises and cynical politics that I frequently wonder if the band had made some sort of bargain with spirits from another world as they were creating it.
This album has been a spiritual and artistic tonic in my simple life of working and taking care of my elderly parents here in south Florida, a cultural and spiritual zone of daily barbarism and crass ignorance. To listen to Space Saviour, Dead Man’s Hand, and Happenstance in my modest apartment by the Atlantic is to be imbued with resolve, courage, and determination, as well as awe. The resolve is to continue to grow and develop as an artist and a son, lover, and friend. The courage is to want to grow as an artist (a painter and photographer). The determination is to never accept the simple-minded cynicism and deathly commercial spirit that envelops artistic practice in a world that reduces every action, every production, and every relationship to a dollar figure.
Untitled #23 comes from the muses, the gods, and the angels whose aura shines on The Church. That they choose The Church, and have never let them down in over 30 years, is a testament to the spirit and will of each of you to grow and gel as men and a band. As I now warmly embrace every single one of your albums that I had not encountered in my time of exile from the band, stupidly thinking that Sometime, Anywhere was the beginning of their end.
I first started listening to your music when I was about 17 years-old, on my way to high school. My friend Jerome Duran had lent me a compilation tape that included Electric Lash. From then on it was pure bliss, love, and lust. The music evolved and so did my love for the band, from The Blurred Crusade (to this day my favorite with “Fields of Mars” still being my favorite Church song) all the way to Priest=Aura, whose sublime atmospheric sonic booms resonate in the ether of my dreams and nightmares.
(to be continued)