Album: The Ringing Bell
Artist: Derek Webb
Label: INO Records
Sounds like: The Beatles’ Revolver

It's not difficult to believe that Derek Webb was listening to a lot of Beatles when making The Ringing Bell. But the rocky, Revolver-like nature of the album (think middle period Beatles, especially Revolver) comes as a bit of a surprise after the quiet - at least musically -nature of Mockingbird. This tone sometimes matches (think John Lennon's angry rants), sometimes disguises (as when McCartney pens a song with a beautiful melody that belies a sad story) how Webb cuts to the core of hypocrisy both within the Church, and in Western - particularly American - society, and challenges us to act out the faith we profess. The Ringing Bell continues the prophetic tone of Mockingbird by again reminding us about the poor, and about the absurdity of Christians supporting a foreign war for oil. It's a sort-of concept album, returning often to the theme of violence and peace, and how living peacefully (turning the other cheek) is actually a brave, if sometimes foolish, calling but one Jesus told us to live out. Western society, on the other hand, and as the cover of the album illustrates, often hides violence and fear behind a mask of civility. "I don't want to fight" has the nobility of Martin Luther King Jnr's philosophy-that peace is not a weakness but the high ground-while "I for an I" shows the flipside-that revenge is a cycle that makes everyone blind in the end, something King understood. While black leaders like Malcolm X advocated rising up and criticised King as a dreamer, King knew violence ultimately creates no winners.

Additionally, as he told us on Mockingbird, and as he does here ("I'm facing enemies on both sides of the gun"), Webb says war allows us the luxury of having enemies we can vilify, whereas the biggest enemy is ourselves. It's usually only ourselves who can see the justice in taking revenge. In "A love that's stronger than our fear" he questions the practice, now well publicised, of America and the West advocating torture to protect Western values. After the opening two (linked) songs ("The end" and "The very end"), which take a leisurely, melancholy "Imagine" approach, "A love that's stronger than our fear" muscles in with the stronger sound'a coppery, lashing guitar riff and echoing drums straight from The Beatles "Taxman." Much of the album maintains this imitation of jangly, 60s guitar pop Beatles and Byrds as the Bangles did on A Different Light, and as bands like Melbourne's Icecream Hands do today. It works wonderfully well here, even if it is a photocopying of sound. It's a simple, open sound but with little subtleties like the handclaps in "I wanna marry you all over again." "Name," which, lyrically, explores what happens when you take a stand (people try to label you derogatorily as "left" or "right," depending on their perspective as conservative or radical), has an insistently joyous sound, with a dancing guitar line and tambourine. "I don't want to fight" brings back the swooping strings of "The very end," while the organ of "T-Shirts" (from "I see things upside down") also makes an appearance.

Like Lennon, Webb mixes a strong ear for melody with a moral indignation that is expressed in aphoristic song-writing. But unlike Lennon, Webb's morality is centred on Christ's teachings, and he doesn't shy away from the difficult ones. "A Savior on Capitol Hill" is the most indignant here. It is short and angry, with a blues structure, and Webb takes aim at the Religious Right in America with sarcastic lines like "all of our problems gonna disappear when we can whisper right in the president's ear." About the only complaint to be made about the album is that this song is too short; it could have done with an angry guitar solo or an extra verse to bring the song up to normal length. Otherwise, typically, Webb tears through the pretence that America is one nation under God.

The final song, "This too shall be made right" most matches the Dylanesque moments of Mockingbird. Webb accompanies himself on acoustic guitar, and, like Bob Dylan, sounds poetic and prophetic as he catalogues injustices and returns at the end of each verse to the line in the song's title. Lines such as "children cannot learn when children cannot eat" target America's willingness to talk morality but not match words with deeds, while "I don't know the sufferings of those outside my front door" reminds us that ignoring those in need puts us with their oppressors. And yet with all the woe, the recurring line reminds us that there is hope. Webb makes many other Christian artists look syrupy, pandering and uninspired. He is tough and angry, but loving, with his love centred on uncompromising faith in Christ. Not only that, but his music is so riveting in a retro kind of way that he may just charm us into action.

Nicks rating: 4/5