Jonathan McReynolds was born three months before the end of the 1980s. Nonetheless, that decade provides the sonic inspiration for his new album, Closer (Live in Chicago). The first track, “Echo,” sounds thoroughly contemporary, with a pulsing, guitar-driven groove that builds through added instrumental and vocal layers. Those sounds hint at what’s to come—electronic synthesizer interjections and guitar tones that are more Bon Jovi than modern gospel.
By the start of the second track, “About Your Love,” listeners are firmly in the era of Huey Lewis and the News. An infectious opening synth hook, punchy bass licks, and Phil Collins–esque crashing drums show that McReynolds wasn’t just looking for subtle nods to the ’80s. “About Your Love” is a synth-pop earworm that doesn’t feel like pastiche; it’s smart, fresh, and danceable. The title track, “Closer,” a duet featuring Tasha Cobbs Leonard, is an unmistakable homage to the ’80s power ballad, complete with soaring vocal harmonies, bombastic percussion, and lush textures.
The project (releasing on Friday) is a fun, experimental contemporary gospel album that showcases McReynolds’s creativity, instrumental abilities, and vocal power. McReynolds is a two-time Grammy-winning gospel artist who broke out in 2012 with the viral hit “No Gray,” which he recorded in his dorm room as a student at Columbia College in Chicago. He has also won 15 Stellar Awards, four Dove Awards, and in 2023 was named BMI’s gospel songwriter of the year along with Dante Bowe.
Last year, McReynolds published his second book, Before You Climb Any Higher: Valley Wisdom for Mountain Dreams. In it, the 36-year-old musician reflects on his own “mountaintop” experiences and struggles with success, fame, and the desire to live in humbler “valley” places, where identity and security can be separated from accomplishments. Closer explores similar themes; McReynolds sings, “Fly high but keep your feet on the ground, and don’t let the day keep you up at night, if only I took my own advice” on the song “Own Advice,” a low-key piano ballad.
The gospel singer has been thinking a lot about what it means to be a Christian singer in a quickly changing music industry. He recently spoke with CT about his new album, his recent book, and the challenges of being an artist in an era of social media, when fame and popularity feel fleeting, precarious, and unpredictable. The interview has been edited for clarity and length.
You’re releasing this album after publishing a book about wrestling with your success as a performer and the demands of navigating public and private life. How did working through some of these big questions and inner conflicts shape the album?
I think the book was really about moving closer to God, toward intimacy with God. The book was about learning how to do whatever you do while staying connected to your identity as a son or daughter of God, down in the valley. I get to go up on these mountains, write songs, take some pictures, sign some autographs, do a great concert. But can I come down from that quickly? Can I get back down to that humble place where it doesn’t matter what I’ve accomplished and rest in being God’s workmanship, having that unearned title of “son”?
I started to wonder if I could stay in “son mode,” even if I’m doing all of these public things. I think there are better ways of doing this. There are better ways of centering and getting still. This whole season, the writing of the book and the creation of the album, is about getting closer to God and making that closeness part of my identity.
In your book, you’re uniquely frank about some of the absurdity of being a Christian performer or celebrity. You describe getting ready for a photo shoot and picking outfits to craft an image. Some Christian performers prefer not to talk about that at all or pretend they don’t have to do it. How do you navigate that tension now, as your profile in the music industry is growing and you’re on bigger stages?
I think we have to stop with the Christianizing of everything. American Christianity has become “show-me Christianity.” It’s like we have this idea that Christianity is something to be demonstrated. It has to be something that we can all see. It’s something that we’ll all feel because you’ll be wearing the same thing I’m wearing and I’ll be concerned about the same thing you’re concerned about and we’ll see this whole world the same way.
So when you become a leader or a spokesman or some heralded figure, you feel like you have to embody all of those codes of unity and uniformity and sameness. But there’s so much extra stuff that gets folded in that none of us really has the capacity to police all the time. For our souls’ sake, we have to cut down on some of the fakeness and disconnection it can encourage.
I don’t like the idea that I’m a celebrity, but there’s the marquee, and it’s got my name on it. There are parts of this that I absolutely don’t like. But I have to come to all of it with my authenticity. This is what we are doing, this is what comes with being an artist and being excellent in a particular industry. So I’ve just had to barrel roll through that tension. I can’t ignore it.
You mention in your book that, as you’ve worked with successful artists in the music industry, it’s been unsettling to see that so many people at the height of their careers are deeply unhappy. You also say that the number of people who are both successful and admirable in terms of character seem so small. What have you learned from the people who seem to be navigating the industry well?
You have to fight to keep finding yourself underneath the rubble of praise and criticism. You have to keep finding yourself under that mask. Because the truth is, I have to get on stage and I don’t always feel like it. It doesn’t matter how we feel. So we all learn to put on a mask and cope as performers. That’s why I talk so much about coming down off that mountain at the end of the day. I have to come down and ask, “Now where am I? Who am I? I performed, everybody’s happy, but where am I?”
I have to be chasing that person under there and making sure he’s okay. Paul told Timothy, “Watch your life and doctrine closely” (1 Tim. 4:16). Watch it. Don’t just watch the ministry part of it. Don’t watch your impact and the fruit that you seem to be bearing all over. No, look at you. Watch your life.
How He Leaves
Your new album explores a lot of these big themes we’ve been talking about—closeness and intimacy with God, finding ways to bridge distance with God when you feel like you’re drifting—but tell me more about the musical influences. As I was listening, I was struck by the homage to ’80s pop and rock. What were you listening to and experimenting with as you put this music together?
I only caught a few months in the ’80s, but I woke up one day and just wanted to listen to the music of that decade. I didn’t grow up with this music; it’s not like I’ve always had a deep reverence for the ’80s prior to this, but I think that as musicians and artists, we’re allowed to just go off and study and listen.
So I’m listening to the music, looking at the outfits, seeing some of the energy and the risks they were taking back then. Looking at it from this moment, it seems like things were a little less formulaic. Like, they didn’t know exactly what worked. By the 2000s we had boy bands and some pop industry formulas down pat. But when I look at what was going on in the ’80s, it seems like they were just trying things: “Let’s just wear this, let’s try this instrument I just built in my garage, let’s start a song with a three-minute-long solo.”
I appreciate that freedom. I’ve always done records where some of my music is worship, some of it is more singer-songwriter, some of it is gospel or an homage to an old choir song. But the way I wanted to hold this album together was with the ’80s. The ’80s is the glue.
You also teach and get to talk about music with college students, which I imagine gives you a unique perspective as an artist. What do you think young people are looking for in new Christian music right now?
Christian music used to have a couple of feeders—we were all in church, there was TBN, Christian radio—if I could get on one of those outlets, I could make it. Now, we’re all everywhere. It’s scattered, and there are sincere, zealous Christians who will never come into contact with any of our old feeders. Everyone used to know Hillsong, but even that world is fading. There is a huge, diverse Christian music world out there that has nothing to do with TBN or BET.
Now, that rapper you’ve never heard of has 2 million followers who like how he talks about God. And somewhere on your block, there is probably a teenager who has way more influence than her parents would ever know. Gen Z’s watching and quietly putting out music from their cellphones. That’s the world we’re living in now.
What’s required now is to just be authentic and creative. That’s it. You’re going to resonate with who you’re going to resonate with.
