got this from Pitchfork, and that first paragraph had me fascinated. I think I'm gonna have to check this book out...
Body Piercing Saved My Life
By Andrew Beaujon
Da Capo Press
That Christian rock's politics and culture are often appalling to a general youth audience-- the genre is largely pro-life, socially conservative, lyrically insular, sometimes out-and-out hard on the ears-- should be, for an outsider, the first source of its appeal. What is worship music but this decade's punk rock? With its massive barriers to entry, strict social codes, and grassroots support network of labels and venues, Christian music could be rock's last real subculture.
Or was, anyway: Body Piercing Saved My Life (think stigmata), by former Spin writer Andrew Beaujon, is the first demystifying chronicle of what the internal organs of Christian rock might look like when beheld by the hell-bound leftovers of the greater rock'n'roll world. Faced with a subject that defies explanation on anything but its own terms, Beaujon braves not just industry conventions and outdoor festivals, but abortion protests and church services as well in a noble attempt to figure out if an insular phenomenon-- that is also a big, big business-- can ever reconcile with the world at large.
In his favor, Beaujon is a hell of a writer, something evident in how often he's able to turn journalistic failure into critical insight. For though his access was unprecedented (everything from the Tooth & Nail offices to David Bazan's house), his sources are often maddeningly close-lipped. In entertaining scenes, bands like Switchfoot and P.O.D. contort themselves and the English language in attempts to simultaneously confirm and deny their Christian faith, trying desperately to not alienate either side of their fan base.
Thus, the heroes of Body Piercing tend to be mostly the radical and the lapsed-- i.e., the honest, and available-- guys like Pedro the Lion's David Bazan, who, throughout Beaujon's book, gives sermons and swears in equal measure, even as he denies (despite evidence to the contrary) his own Christianity. Others, such as Sufjan Stevens, come off as aloof and withholding. Beaujon, denied an interview on account of his (faith-seeking) angle, is left merely speculating while duly praising Stevens' music. This kind of persecution complex-- a fear of both the outside world and the label "Christian"-- exhibited by many Christian artists ultimately drives the reader and Beaujon half-crazy. As Beaujon eloquently puts it: "Sorry, dude, but a drunken idiot shouting 'Satan rules' when you play in a bar isn't quite the same thing as being nailed to a tree." Amen. [Zach Baron]