Holy shit

With any luck at all, you’ll never have encountered Creed, a so-called Christian rock band who write anti-abortion and pro-life lyrics and who seem to think that cranking out sludgy heavy rock is an appropriate way to pay homage to De Lawd.

I say so-called Christian rock band because, for reasons which will shortly become clear, the other day I found myself scanning the band’s official web site, and detected a certain hesitancy on their part about owning up to their religious credentials.

In a question and answer session with some obviously demented fans, the band’s Scott Stapp was asked: “How do you respond to being labeled a ‘Christian’ band and will you ever consider playing at Christian festivals such as the Creation or Inside Out Soul festivals?”

Scott replied as follows: “We have been labeled that by Christians or individuals who understand Christianity because they hear the lyrics with their view-points in their mind, so they apply any key words or word and assume it is of a Christian nature solely based on their background. I don’t believe we will play at Christian rock festivals.”

Ignore, if you can, the fact that Scott sounds like he has been translated badly from some esoteric East European tongue and ignore too, the ghastly loaves and fishes-style vista evoked by the thought of a Christian rock festival called Creation.

Rather, conceive if you will of my shock that your man’s mealy-mouthed fudging meant it would now be much more difficult than I’d first imagined to fill an entire column with my familiar and, may I say, much-loved repertoire of sneers, jibes and sheer, poisonous bile, at the expense of water brains who profess a belief in the existence
of a “Supreme Being” (other than Zimmy, obviously).

Lovely hurling

But, soft, conceive now of my relief and joy when, reading on through this terrible waffle, I come across the following exchange: “Q. If you had a chance to meet with anyone living or not, who would you choose and why? A. Jesus Christ because his message is one of love, peace, unity and grace. Those are all messages our world could use to help solve our problems. Also, He died for his beliefs. I admire that.”

Hooray. Saved, as it were, in the nick of time. Scott’s is not a Christian band but his top man is Jesus H. Christ himself. This is a bit like one of our more primitive political life-forms railing against sex, drugs and rock ’n’ roll and then naming his all-time hero as Lemmy. Lovely hurling.

By the way, it would be remiss of me not to bring to your attention on another unrelated but fantastic exchange on the Creed website. Angela from Philadephia asks: “If you could do anything or go anywhere for just one day with no restrictions, what would you do or where would you go?”

Now, if you or I were asked where we might go for a day trip, chances are we’d say Bray or, now that they’ve extended the Dart line, Greystones even. But here’s Scott’s reply: “I would like to travel through space and if there were other life forms in the depths of space, I would like to meet them.”

Is there any chance at all that Jim could fix this for him?

Of course, whether the little green men or even the Ganymedean slime moulds would like to meet Scott is a moot point, particularly since his own followers on earth are clearly pissed off with him and his kind.

I refer to the interesting development which first set me on the trail of these mad people – the news that four fans of the band are suing them for £1.3 million claiming that Creed “failed to perform substantially” at a show in Chicago last December. Speicifically, they allege that our friend Scott Stapp was either so drunk or stoned that he was “unable to sing a single Creed song” and instead frequently left the stage, rolled around on the floor and “appeared to pass out”.

Dodgy gig

Okay, I know what you’re thinking and you’d be right – there may be hope for the bastards after all. Furthermore, you would think that Scott’s inability to sing a single Creed song was A Very Good Thing To Be Applauded, not a case for legal action. As Scott himself might say: He died on stage. I admire that.

Anyway, while I salute Creed’s efforts to recover from Christianity and embark on a more meaningful life of doing everything to excess in the name of the real Lord (Jon, of Deep Purple), I do see certain sinister implications if other concert-goers follow the example of Creed’s litigious fans.

I mean, if people are prepared to go to court after one dodgy gig, where might we end up if, say, a band’s entire career went under the legal microscope?

Do I need to spell this out?

Coming soon to a big building near you: The Foghat Tribunal.

Your ever lovin’ Samuel J. Snort Esq