“I swear I’m not a religious man, but sometimes I still catch myself singing ‘Hallelujah!, Hallelujah!”

That line is this album in a nutshell.

Though my aim has never been to pigeonhole Tuned Up as a site for followers of any particular belief system, it’s not exactly a secret that I’m a Christian. I kind of wear it on my sleeve. Also, I’ve been thinking a lot lately about people in Christian circles leaving the faith, deconstructing, and the so-called Exvangelical movement. So, when someone from “outside the faith” reached out to me about an album that not only isn’t full of conflict, but doesn’t shy away from highlighting the positive aspects of faith, I took notice.

Enter Andrew Choi. Choi is someone that I’ve enjoyed levels of discourse with about the state of the industry both local and global for going on eight or nine years now. In the early days of Tuned Up I reviewed an early manifestation of Choi’s musical alter-ego St. Lenox in the maxi-single That Old Time Religion, which in 2014 was a harbinger of the concept album to come in Ten Songs of Worship and Praise for our Tumultuous Times. The truth is there are so many directions I can take the conversation, whilst digging into these songs that it’s hard for me to know where to start.

Part of what makes Choi’s case for the faith so compelling is the fact that it comes from one that has been open about his queer experience—an unwitting participant in one of the defining issues in which the Church is often cast in a bad light. I should say that Choi seems to be somewhat intentionally ambiguous about what he believes exactly, but that adds yet another layer of intrigue (and honesty) to this album.

The discourse on Ten Songs… is relatable and honest. I think of “The Great Blue Heron,” which takes Song of Solomon and ditches some of the innuendo for more family friendly nature metaphors. I think of the title track of sorts, which muses “I love these tumultuous times…. I hate these tumultuous times.” Me too, sir. Me too. That’s been my mindset throughout this pandemic season. I hate the angst that comes with you-know-what. But I love the camaraderie I saw in early lockdown. The quiet. The creativity of livestreams and trying not to lose my mind watching Underoath’s The Observatory in the hot sun on the Global Gallery patio hoping my MacBook wouldn’t overheat.

Perhaps the most intriguing lyrical exploration comes from the album closer “Superkamiokande,” an allusion to a neutrino detector buried deep beneath the earth in Japan and operated by people smarter than I could ever hope to be. I will say, that lately I’ve been pondering the parallels between physics and spirituality—God exists in a realm we don’t understand, and Jesus dying for the sins of the world satisfies some cosmic law; who’s to say the two can’t coexist? Physics, after all, seeks to explain the nature of everything—maybe religion and physics are part of a false dichotomy. I wonder if this track is Choi’s way of reckoning with this. It reads a bit like a modern take on the classic hymn “How Great Thou Art!” A couple of verses come to mind:

“God has set eternity in the human heart.” – Ecclesiastes 3:11

“For His invisible attributes, namely, His eternal power and divine nature, have been clearly perceived, ever since the creation of the world, in the things that have been made. So they are without excuse.” – Romans 1:20

There is so much going on lyrically it can be hard to take in all at once. Add in subtitles for his Wes Anderson-esque music videos and you have to watch repeatedly to get everything. Yet Choi’s delivery is about as casual and conversational as it gets. The music and production back this up, incorporating elements that seek to both tug at your nostalgia (who remembers walking to church with your parents on a holiday, and experiencing the power of the organ?) and urge to connect with others in a down to earth way. The production is minimal yet not. The melodies have a surprisingly wholesome quality to them. Choi’s lyricism flows like prose yet never sways off the beat or tone set by the instrumentals.

In short, Ten Songs… is something I found to be a bit of a therapeutic discourse, and a record I’ll be thinking about for a while.

Follow St. Lenox on Facebook, Twitter, and Instagram. Ten Songs of Worship and Praise for Our Tumultuous Times is out now via Don Giovanni Records.