Hope Is Not a Sunny Day
Jon Foreman and Switchfoot sing about the muck and mess of real life—and finding hope amid the darkness—on their new album, Hello Hurricane.
Collin Hansen | posted 11/11/2009

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Another theme weaves through your music—"Politicians" from Nothing Is Sound, "Ammunition" from Beautiful Letdown, and "Mess of Me" from Hello Hurricane. The theme is that we're the problem with the world. That's different from rockers who usually rail against "the man." Essentially, you're saying that the man is me and you.
I love punk rock songs that can rail against some other person. There's nothing that unites us more than hatred. We can all say this guy or that guy is a real jerk. Wars are not fought because we're so united in love. Usually it's due to hatred or fear of something unlike us that drives us to strong words and punk rock songs. I find that feeling comes up really quickly, and I don't trust it. I try and write these songs that rail against someone else, but the whole song becomes a disclaimer of saying, "I guess I am the problem here."
I used to find that thematic elements that appear from album to album are problematic. I've come to the realization that in many ways these are still issues I'm wrestling with. A lot of them are issues wrestled with since time immortal: What is love? How do I restore who I was meant to be? I've adopted the idea of inviting that sort of thought. There's a song on this record, "Your Love Is a Song." It's the third part in a series: "Let Your Love Be Strong," "Your Love Is Strong," and "Your Love Is a Song." It's like an unfolding theme in my life, trying to figure out why and how the Maker of heaven and earth would want any sort of relationship with me.
Foreman (center) with his band
You've been in transition with labels. How are you reconnecting with your long-time audience, including many Christians?
I'm always a fan of a face-to-face conversation. Many times the nature of what we do for a living, the idea that art is subjective and beauty is in the eye of the beholder, makes everyone a judge of what is true and beautiful. Especially as Christians it's a funny line to walk, judging not lest you be judged, then at the same time determining whether that is a "Christian" band. The conversation is important, because it has implications far beyond music. How we define our music as sacred or secular is deeply entrenched in the concept of the division and didactic thinking of the church—this is the time I go to church, this is the time I go crazy with my buddy—and we divide ourselves in this Greek thought. But God wants all of us.
The Reformation broke down the division between sacred and secular, and churches seem to have somewhat forgotten that change. But there is also tension for bands well known in Christian circles when they go to bigger labels to tamp down the spiritual elements of their music. Have you noticed that?
If you're having a conversation with your mom, you have a shared experience and wealth of information, so you'll be completely free and open and know she won't misinterpret what you said and put it on the front page. But when you're talking to The New York Times, you're going to be much more guarded. My faith rests in the idea that God can speak through a donkey, and he can speak through an ass like myself. That requires a lot of faith, to think that God would personally speak to individuals. That faith is required of upper management in Christian circles.