Dustin Kensrue has become one of my favorite lyricists in the past few years, as he seems to have a remarkable knack for writing poetic lyrics that are full of Biblical references and themes while being fully embraced by a secular fanbase. Through the last half of the ’00’s I saw Christian bands becoming less outspoken about Christ in their lyrics as they gained more “crossover” appeal, while I discovered Thrice being far more outspoken than them and yet having even more of a “crossover” fanbase. So I was quite excited to hear their latest album, Major/Minor, and analyze the depth of the new lyrics.
NOTE: It seems that some people are finding this post by searching for things like “thrice major minor cuss words.” I’m not sure why, but if that’s you, I do not believe there are any objectionable words on this album. If there is a specific song or line that people are questioning, please let me know in the comments. Thanks.
1. Yellow Belly
You were built for blessing but you only make them bleed,
but you don’t care, you don’t care…
Your hands are made to comfort but they only conjure fear
But you don’t care, you don’t care.
She’s in the closet praying Lord please get me out of here
you don’t care, you don’t you don’t you don’t.
Dustin said there was an “aggressive” song on this record about “bad or abusive fathers,” and there seems to be no doubt among Thrice fans that this is the one. Dustin laments the fear and pain caused by the person he is addressing, contrasted with God’s design for human relationships (“You were built for blessing.. Your hands are made to comfort…“)
O, we promise pretty things
And we pledge with diamond rings
We profess undying love
But does that word hold any weight
When we reserve the right to break
Any vow that draws our blood
Our word is so faint and feeble
Broken by the slightest breeze or breath
Our hearts are so deceitful
Sick and filled with lies that lead to death
This is a pretty straightforward song mourning another broken form of relationship – husband and wife – except Dustin turns the accusation from you to we. It’s very thematically similar to Beggar‘s “The Weight,” and it’s even also the album’s second track. “The Weight” recognizes that many people in today’s society make promises about love and then break them when “push comes to shove,” but the narrator expresses his desire to be different and hold to a true commitment, “come what may.” In a similar manner, “Promises” addresses our society’s light treatment of marriage when troubles arise, where “we profess undying love” but “reserve the right to break any vow that draws our blood.” But unlike “The Weight,” “Promises” doesn’t address a commitment to be different, and as such I kind of feel that “Promises” is lyrically weak – reusing thematic material from an old song and not even commenting on it as strongly as before. On the other hand, I very much appreciate the amount of attention that Dustin is bringing to the selfish attitudes about relationships that pervade today’s society, and it’s hard to say too much about it.
I am always one of those blameless,
Or at least that’s what I believed
I never thought I could have been blinded
until I could no longer see.
After addressing a couple forms of broken human relationships, Dustin starts to get personal about sin and redemption. He starts off expressing the common belief many people have in their own righteousness: “I was always one of those righteous / Never lived outside of the lines.” This reminds me of the lines “I’m a good man.. Am I a good man? I thought I was…” from “At The Last” on Beggars.
When he sings, “Kept a close watch on the white wash / disguising the dead bones inside,” he’s referencing Matthew 23:27-28, where Jesus accuses the Pharisees of being “like whitewashed tombs, which look beautiful on the outside but on the inside are full of the bones of the dead and everything unclean.” Dustin sings, “I was a child of hell,” referencing verse 15 of the same chapter, where Jesus says that the Pharisees make converts who are “twice as much a child of hell as you are.” By making two references to the Pharisees, Dustin is clearly addressing not simply non-believers who think they are “good,” but self-righteous people who are familiar with the Law or lists of rules and think they are good at following them and “keeping tabs on everyone else.”
Drawing on a metaphor of blindness, Dustin uses light on the chorus as God simultaneously reveals both the depth of the narrator’s depravity and the love that God still has for him:
But you buried me in the bright light.
Yeah, you held my eyes to the sun
till I could see
That I was worse than I ever feared I could be
But somehow, I was loved more than I ever
dared to believe because of you
Cut these thorns and kick these stones, and keep those birds at bay.
Plant deep and dark, and help my heart receive the words you say.
This is one of those songs that is just dripping with Biblical references, skillfully described by mtamerson on SongMeanings.net. I won’t retread every reference here but I will point out something interesting about the main metaphor. Dustin summarizes the Parable of the Sower in two lines with references to “thorns,” “stones,” and “birds,” combined with a prayer to be the fourth kind of seed that is planted in good ground. Dustin is crying out for God to help him “receive the words you say” because they “are somehow lost on me, they die on deafened ears / when you open up your mouth to speak I hear but I can’t hear.”
Of course, this is a reference to Jesus’ explanation of his speaking in parables directly after giving the Parable of the Sower, “though hearing, they do not hear or understand.” So there is a rich layer to these lyrics where Dustin is using the Parable, or the words of the Lord, to express his desire to be able to understand the words of the Lord. There’s also a bit of a progression from the previous song, going from “Blinded” to “Cataracts.” It’s not perfect vision, but it’s the beginning of the never ending process of perfection.
5. Call It In The Air
A coin tossed into the air will come down, it will come down somewhere.
Your life is a coin in the air, it will come down somewhere.
This song is one of the many interesting metaphors on Major/Minor. Instead of referencing an existing spiritual metaphor from the Bible (as with “Cataracts,” for instance), Dustin gives a spiritual meaning to a non-spiritual story that is loosely drawn from a scene in No Country For Old Men, as confirmed by Dustin in this excellent AbsolutePunk interview.
The primary meaning of the song is that “your life is a coin in the air,” and “it will come down somewhere” when you die. “You have to choose” and “call it out” while it’s in the air – “heads or tails.” I like the aspect of the coin metaphor in that you have to decide while you are alive; you can’t wait until you meet Jesus in the afterlife to decide whether or not to give your life to him. I don’t like the aspect of the coin metaphor that almost makes it seem like it’s a complete gamble when it comes to knowing what the afterlife holds, but no metaphor is going to be perfect. The simple aspect of the importance of making that choice is so powerful: “You can’t ignore it; you stand to win or lose everything!” In the AP interview, Dustin says the song is “a friendly push to think this stuff through.”
6. Treading Paper
All my life,
I’ve been treading paper in the space between the words.
And there implied
is that I’m but another body for the birds
This is a more straightforward song that reminds me of the ChristianityToday interview where Dustin states that he feels like he writes a lot of “essays in songs.” This track is basically an essay arguing that modern, godless science leads to the postmodern belief that everything is meaningless and that such ideas are wrong. Someone from the SongMeanings.net discussion points out that the lyric “unyielding despair” is a reference to something Bertrand Russell said about atheism.
But linger on, just for a moment,
until we can ascertain if something’s wrong with me –
or the assumptions of these self-indicted brains.
Because I contend that all of this –
is more than just a meaningless charade,
Either I’m wrong, or these other men are wrong in their logical assumptions. I think pointing out that man is not perfect in knowledge is a good argument, although simply saying “there must be something meant for us to be” because “our hearts tell a different story” isn’t necessarily a strong argument for the supernatural. But it’s true enough for a song.
This image is a night-terror transforming, without the hope of morning.
My nemesis, I feel it coming for me, and it means to destroy me. Why does this keep happening?
This song takes a break from philosophical story-telling and essaying to simply express a dark mood. It still uses a metaphor though – that of a photo with a long exposure that makes everything blurry and confusing. I will defer to Dustin’s ChristianityToday interview for this song’s interpretation:
Our guitar player’s mom passed away about two years ago, and the bass player and drummer’s dad passed away earlier this year. And my dad has brain cancer. It’s just been kind of a crazy time. So we built that song, using those pictures as inspiration. It’s dark all the way through.
I used to try to fit too much into one song, to try to “resolve” it by the end. But I started realizing that as long as I have a catalogue that’s balanced, I can go into a dark spot and leave someone there in that zone, and not try to rescue them from the implications of what I’m getting at in the song.
There is a place for recognizing the existence of pain and hardship within the grand scheme of the meaning of life – as many of the Psalms do testify.
8. Words In The Water
Standing knee-deep in cold water, swiftly moving
Somehow I knew I lost something
I think this is one of the most interesting lyrical metaphors on the album. It’s completely in story form, with rich imagery about struggling with a book in a river.
Then with water in my eyes
The words began to rise from their place
They were beautiful and dread
I reached for them and fed on each phrase
They were honey on my lips
Then a bitter twist in my side
I knew they’d lay me in my grave
“Is there no one who could save me?” I cried
The honey taste that turns bitter sounds like a reference to the scroll that John eats in Revelation 10. Dustin confirms in the AbsolutePunk interview that his song is about man’s inability to keep God’s Law. While the scroll in Revelation is not about the Law per se, there are other Scripture references to God’s word being like honey (Psalm 119:103, for instance), and it is a clever cross-reference to suggest that it is bitter to fail to follow those sweet words.
As the words threaten to drown the narrator, Jesus comes to the rescue:
When I lost all hope to look
someone took that heavy book from my hands
all its weight they set aside
after they had satisfied its demands
If that’s not explicit enough for you, take Dustin’s words from the interview:
The song is talking about the idea of the Law, which is what God would command. It is beautiful, but it’s also treacherous in the fact that we can’t live up to it. It’s pretty much the difference between the Law and the Gospel. The Law is what God commands and the Gospel is what He gives, and that’s kind of where the song ends, is that transition.
The story in this song makes me think of Dustin’s discussion in the ChristianityToday interview about his approaches to songwriting. He talks about an idea from C. S. Lewis that he called “sneaking past dragons”:
We live in a culture that has some understanding of what the gospel is, but such a small amount there’s this kind of inoculation against it. Lewis talked about that as if there’s a dragon watching for that message to come through, but before it can come past our brains and impact our hearts, it’s like something in our brain is attacking it. Lewis had this idea of sneaking past that, so the dragon wouldn’t know what the thing was, and it could come and impact the heart and then be dealt with in the brain. That way, someone could experience what the gospel is without trying to deny it first.
Dustin is trying to reveal the message of the Gospel – not to those who are already believers – but to those with hardened hearts.
9. Listen Through Me
Listen to me
Though I speak of sober things
Listen through me
Though a man of lips unclean
I think this is one of the most interesting songs that Dustin has ever written. He cuts out the essays and the stories and he speaks directly to the listener. “Call It In The Air” speaks to the listener, to be sure, but it’s still wrapped in metaphor. “Listen Though Me” is a raw plea to the listener. It feels like a commentary on all of his other songs, like he’s summarizing his previous song about the Gospel – and the other songs on the album, and even all the albums before this one. It’s as if Dustin knows that he has a largely secular audience, and he is pleading with them to not just listen to the cool music or think the stories are cool but to actually “Listen to me!” and to think about what Dustin is singing about.
“A man of lips unclean” is a reference to Isaiah’s description of himself in Isaiah 6:5 when God called him to speak his words to the people, and it almost feels like Dustin considers himself a sort of “prophet” called to speak to his secular audience. The line “I speak truly what you only think you’ve heard” recalls his interview statement about “sneaking past dragons” and encouraging his listeners to understand the true gospel message and not just what may be a false perception of what the gospel is. Dustin pleads with the listener to “get down off that fence” and follows with one of his most explicit gospel summaries in a modern hymn-like fashion with beautiful poetry:
He laid aside his crown
All our crimes he carried
Was lifted from the ground
With our burdens buried
The shadows all had flown
In the light diminished
He emptied out his lungs
Crying it is finished
Our life’s built of tin cans and string
But the cornerstone laid is a wondrous and beautiful thing…
‘Cause our love is a loyalty sworn
If we hold to our hope then I know we can weather the storm
This song, as the name suggests, is a composite of previous Thrice songs. Dustin explains in the AP interview that it is meant to be a “love song” as a “compilation of all these other loves songs I had done,” and I will defer to the good Thrice fans in the link below for the exposition of the six or so songs referenced within.
We were sons of insurrection
Doomed to face the dark alone
Til vicarious perfection
Dearly won was made our own
So where’s your landslide
Where’s your victory
Tell me now, where’s your sting
The album closes with yet another exploration of Christ’s sacrifice, this time expressed at Death itself in the manner of 1 Corinthians 15: “Where, O Death, is your victory?” The final line is “Now that you have been disarmed / We will cross over unharmed,” and it almost feels like a reference to The Pilgrim’s Progress where Christian crossed over the river into the Celestial City as a metaphor for death. (I feel like that metaphor may have originated in the Bible itself but if it does I can’t think of the reference.)
Once again, I will refer to the AP interview for Dustin’s own words:
That whole part is really talking about this idea of the vicarious price dearly won, what Christ has won for us on the cross. That sting of death is gone now, we’re passing over unharmed.
And that concludes the Thrice album Major/Minor. Dustin had an interesting response to the ChristianityToday interviewer’s question about songwriters that want listeners to find their own meaning in their lyrics:
I don’t think that’s what you want to be doing with your songs, to be saying willy-nilly that whatever someone gets out of it, that’s what they get. I think you want to intend a meaning, but I also think there are layers of meaning that you can implant. I’m often writing on multiple levels where I’m saying, okay, there’s this layer that people who have these understandings will get, and then there’s a layer a little further up that someone with other understandings is going to get. I think the more you open up a well-written song or book, there should be enough clues to draw something concrete out of it and get somewhere close to where the author was going.
I agree with Dustin on that one, at least where I am in life right now. I think it’s almost an act of laziness on the part of a songwriter to write random lyrics with no intention of meaning behind them – almost like an abuse of the gift of words (although this would be a great topic for discussion). To continue with a previous allusion, Jesus’ parables may have had confusing meanings, and they may have had multiple, rich layers of understanding, but they were not “willy-nilly.”
Major/Minor is full of Biblical references and metaphors, as is usual for Thrice, and it feels like Dustin takes his intensity up a new notch on this one, pleading with his listeners to actually listen to what he is saying and to recognize their sin and need for the Savior. Dustin Kensrue has been one of my favorite lyricists since I discovered Thrice with The Alchemy Index, and their latest album is another job well done.