Seaside Sounds

A sunny day and a fine one for the North Norfolk coast. I dropped my partner and the kids near the front and went looking for a parking place. When I reached the cliff top a few minutes later there was no sign of the rest of the family but I did find, between the ice cream van and the lobster traps, a gathering of some thirty souls on a triangle of grass. 'Scripture Union' read the banner but I'd already heard them and their little P.A. system from around the corner.

The Billy Graham figure (vicar?) was a mild mannered chap in his 30s with all the iconoclastic zeal of a children's TV presenter from the 1970s. All very English and understated. "So God spoke to you in London," he was saying into a megaphone to a member of the congregation who gave confirmation. "And [to another] God spoke to you at work? What work do you do? A librarian. In which county? Sussex. So God has spoken to us in London and in America and in Sussex. And this is evidence that God..."

Hang on a minute, I think, my heckles rising. Evidence? God forbid you're ever called for jury service. And I find I'm resenting the din of the megaphone as much as the smug self-certainty of the man of faith behind it. But as I wander down the cliff path the tinny music that follows the sermon merges with the sounds of laughing children, gulls and the breeze and I realise this is what the seaside is all about. The world on holiday and all the hullabaloo that goes with it. To me this born-again evangelist is an echo of the showmen and callers of yesteryear. All his flock need to do now is ditch the canned music and form a brass band. That's the kind of revival I'd be game for on a sunny day at the beach. A little tiddly-om-pom-pom along the prom to wake up a sleepy little seaside town and breathe life into what's known here in Norfolk as God's waiting room.

Christian rock

Is there a worse genre? I am talking here not about rock played by Christians, of which there are plenty of fine examples from Elvis onwards, but about rock as a vehicle for the Christian message. Now I know there are always exceptions but frankly I can't call any to mind at present. Maybe this is because I have just been subjected to Primary aged children singing Bethlehem Rock, turning my brain to mush. I'm afraid it really brings out the bah-humbug in me. (More on school concerts after the obligatory 24hr cooling off period.)

Christianity has given rise to a vast amount of wonderful music over the centuries and the tradition continues. Tallis, Handel, Bach, Mozart and Tavener have all turned their hand to it. And there is a host of moving and rousing hymns and carols. Why not get the kids singing some of these? Songwriters in more recent times have had fun with the secular side of Christmas to good effect, often using rock'n'roll as a vehicle.

But rock'n'roll is music born of angst and the need to party. When it hit the news in the 50s it was called the Devil's music and it had horns. It can't be sanitised, or have religious lyrics set to it, and then be passed off as a viable alternative to the real thing. Only a brain-dead youth could even pretend to like that. It's the equivalent of Satanists writing pastiches of Barry Manilow tunes. At least, when torturing teenagers, they have the sense to use it in its pure and unadulterated form. Time is the only known cure for adolescent angst. No one can hope to woo the young away from 'the dark side' with Christian rock. The only ones who'll come aren't worth wooing.