Wandering & Wondering in NYC with Jennifer Knapp and Phil LaRue

I walked the city in the rain yesterday. By myself. The Jennifer Knapp/Phil LaRue concert didn’t start until 6:30pm  and I had a lunch date with Becky Garrison at noon. That left me with 4.5 hours to wander.  On the 2+ hour train ride home, I realized that said wandering was my favorite part of the day, if only because it was free and New York City is such a feast for the senses. The concert was just an entertaining stop along the way.

As to the event, Phil LaRue surprised me. Not only is he adorable, but his energy is upbeat and magnetic. I especially liked his song Jubilee. He sang another about a friend he said had been suicidal; it’s called Erase and Rewind. “I didn’t see this coming. No, I did not. I thought I knew you, but I guess I did not…” Honest responses to shocking pathos. I asked him about the song afterwards because one listen wasn’t enough for me to absorb its message. He said he was saying that if his friend knew how much he and God loved him, he would never consider suicide. If only that were true. LaRue’s debut solo album came out in April. It’s called Let the Road Pave Itself. The title came from a conversation with a friend in which Phil said he wasn’t sure he wanted to be “an artist.” His friend replied, “Let the road pave itself.” Good thought. LaRue was going home to his wife, about whom he sang a lovely song called Found. “When you’re lost in love, you never want to be found.”  Lovely. In a couple weeks, he will be on his way to India with The Home Foundation. He’ll be on the road with me too, if I can get a copy of Let the Road Pave Itself before Jeff and I leave for Florida tomorrow.

I confess that I really hadn’t given much thought to Jennifer Knapp‘s absence from the Christian music scene over the past seven years. I’ve been seriously preoccupied, as apparently has she, but not writing songs. She introduced a new one by saying she hadn’t written in a long time. Knapp’s music often played in my home and car in happier days. It brought me back to those days last night, even though it tends to be a bit angst-ridden. Her voice is rough, but sweet notes and simple, piercing truths break through, as does her wry sense of humor. The set was short, and apparently at least in part performed for the benefit of record label people who were in attendance. Her manager said she had been in meetings all day and would be unavailable for an interview, which was fine. I don’t wonder where she’s been or what she’s been up to these past seven years. Actually, I hope she doesn’t say. Whose business is that but hers. I would like to know, however, why she decided to step back into the spotlight and what she hopes to accomplish. Obviously she likes her privacy.  How will she protect it? The crowd of about 100 people loved her and, having never seen her perform live before, I enjoyed her earthy set as well, especially a new song she said she wrote just last week. “If you don’t love me, set me free,” it went, “and I will go away. Should I find my place amidst shame and disgrace? Who are you to judge? If you don’t love me, set me free.” I had thought it was about a lover, but now I wonder if maybe it’s about us, her Christian fans. She recently tweeted that she was reading an article called “Beyond Theology: Toward an Anthropology of ‘Fundamentalism’” by Judith Nagata. Interesting.

Because of my wandering, and wondering if the venue would be difficult to get into, I arrived three hours early, and planted myself in a club a couple doors down from The Living Room, where Knapp and LaRue were playing. The food was good and cheap at Pianos and I had a book, Deep Church: A Third Way Beyond Emerging and Traditional by Jim Belcher, which I’ve been enjoying. I gave someone at The Living Room my card in case Jennifer wanted to talk. About 5:30 the doors opened and I sat down at the bar to wait. She emerged and sat next to me, but not to talk, to have her picture taken. I was about to get up when she winked and told me I was fine. Will my back be in her publicity photos? I don’t know. She seemed a little nervous, but confident insecure, but self-possessed and determined. She looked beautiful too and I told her so. Has she come to talk, I wondered again. No, she disappeared as suddenly as she had emerged.

Mystery is attractive in an age of TMI. I hope she succeeds in holding onto hers.