This list appears in Issue 26 of The Mockingbird, now available to pre-order!
One incontrovertible truth of church life is that the more a tradition centers the Holy Spirit, the livelier its music will be. In fact, it’s difficult to talk about worship music of any kind without talking about the Spirit. Singing, dancing, shouting, wailing, weeping, laughing, sighing, groaning — if we know anything about the third person of the Trinity, we know there are sounds involved. The Holy Spirit is full stereo, you might say. This means that the number of songs that invoke the Spirit — directly or metaphorically (or both at the same time) — is endless. So this list could be much, much longer. What follows are simply 18 favorites that have resonated with my ears over the years. I hope you enjoy them. No doubt your list would be different. It might be entirely instrumental or entirely choral or entirely electronic. The Spirit operates outside of the boundaries we set, and that includes musical ones. I thank the Lord for that, and I thank the Lord for these:
“Treasure of the Broken Land” by Mark Heard
A call to the Spirit that sounds like a call to arms, “Treasure” is the final song off the final album released by the esteemed (and supremely underrated) Christian songwriter before his sudden death in 1992. And what a song it is! When Heard pleads, with militant fervor, “Waiting wind of Gabriel, blow soon upon the hollow bones” you can hear his near-apocalyptic thirst for the life that living water brings. It’s not just his own thirst he’s channeling, though, but that of the “parched earth” itself. The desert imagery feels apt, a reminder of how the Spirit sent Jesus himself there at the beginning of his ministry. Some of us are suckers for the early 90s sheen, but those who prefer less reverb — and a smartly edited outro — should check out the versions recorded by both Buddy and Julie Miller.
“Caribbean Wind” by Bob Dylan
Written and recorded — but not released — during Dylan’s early 80s Gospel period, “Caribbean Wind” is one of bard’s indisputable lost masterpieces. The most well-known version opens with some deep breathing (!) before tracing a travelogue (possibly a conversion story) of biblical proportions. Dylan does not skimp on the Pentecostal imagery, including references to flames and furnaces, mission bells and various bodies of water, not to mention Christ himself. All throughout, the narrator is blown by that Caribbean wind, which brings everything “nearer to the fire.” Thoroughly enigmatic, in turns ominous and uplifting, the song is a Spirit-drenched rebuttal to all who might claim that Dylan lost his muse when he found Jesus.
“The Maker” by Willie Nelson and Emmylou Harris
The moment Willie intones “Oh, oh deep water” over the loping beat, you know you’re in for something special. Then a few bars later, when Emmylou adds her angelic harmonies, the track reaches lift-off and stays there. “The Maker” was written and produced by Daniel Lanois (U2, Bob Dylan), and his otherworldly sonic imprint fits the subject matter like a glove. The lyrics concern a weary pilgrim at the gates of heaven being welcomed into eternal rest by the third person of the Trinity. The eschatological element (rising rivers and burning swords, John the Baptist) is perfectly pitched, finding its musical counterpoint in the propulsive groove. Lanois paints a sonic picture of a Spirit which is present not only in judgment but in creativity and emancipation.
“Compass” by Candace Coker
A key question when it comes to the Spirit has to do with discernment. How can we tell what’s of the Spirit and what isn’t? In this recent gem, the Trinidad-born singer-songwriter wrestles with that question amidst a choir of dulcimers. The answers she finds are assuring ones. Coker conceives of the Spirit here as a “cracked needle compass” which steers the blindfolded traveler through all manner of valleys and peaks, before ending in peace. By her estimation, life in the Spirit abounds in surprise, which is not so much an occasion to fear as to trust. Coker mimics her subject matter with an array of vocal twists and turns that not only drive the point home but will have you humming all day (with hope).
“Full of Fire” by Al Green
Any time you’re talking about new life in a Christian context, you’re talking about the Holy Spirit. No wonder, then, that when Al Green underwent a dramatic conversion in 1974, he reached for pneumatological language to express what was happening. “Full of Fire” finds the soon-to-be Reverend Al singing and dancing and praising God for a life that “has just begun.” Thankfully, while the spiritual sentiments may have been fresh territory for Green, the musical backing from the Hi Rhythm Section remains as transcendent as it did on his pre-conversion hits. A toe-tapper of the highest order.
“Holy Spirit” by Limousine and “Holy Ghost” by The Bar-Kays
The dance party cranks up several notches with two slices of Spirit-themed funk from different corners of the globe. First we have the 1976 release from Rotterdam’s finest purveyors of Christian disco, Limousine. You won’t find the track on Spotify (or anywhere else other than YouTube or Discogs), but once you hear Okkie Huysdens sing “Holy Spirit, don’t leave me for a minute!” I guarantee that any effort you put into hunting it down will be vindicated. Its companion piece comes from Memphis legends The Bar-Kays, who laid down this absurdly funky take on the subject in 1978. Their angle may be a bit more profane (“Your love is like the Holy Ghost / and I feel like I’ve been born a second time”) but bass- and horn-lines of this caliber cover a multitude of sins. The wah-wah synths are pretty rad, too. Be sure to google their genre-defining Soul Train performance.
“Faith and Fire” by Vivian Reed
You might say the Spirit connects the head to the heart, which is why we associate it so often with emotion. On her slinky 1981 club hit “Faith and Fire,” Broadway star Vivian Reed draws on this aspect of the Spirit when she sings, “I’ll never get over the feeling I’m feeling” before coming to the chorus of “faith and fire follow me / love is what I want to see.” The rest of lyrics touch on spiritual warfare and the advent of new light, albeit with enough latitude to allow for a romantic reading. But I choose to believe she’s singing about the Lord rather than some dude. The percussion is just too heavenly.
“Wild Is the Wind” by Nina Simone
Time to slow things down a little, courtesy of the venerable Ms. Simone, who takes a lukewarm 1957 soundtrack cut from Johnny Mathis and transforms it into a song of almost unbearable pathos. While not strictly Holy Spirit-themed, Simone wrings every ounce of emotion from the wind imagery, employing it as a metaphor for passion that exists outside the bounds of control. The singer is subject to this wind, as is her (lost?) lover, as are we all. Like with the Spirit, wherever this wind blows, it brings life and spring. That was certainly the case in 1976, when David Bowie paid tribute to Simone by including a gorgeous cover of the song on his album Station to Station.
“Let the Wind Blow” by The Beach Boys
Illustration by Melisa Gerecci.
Listeners to The Brothers Zahl podcast know that some of us consider the Brothers Wilson to be ground zero for Spirit-inflected pop music. “Good Vibrations” was not a one-off. There’s the gorgeous “Wind Chimes” on Smile, their magisterial version of “Cool, Cool Water,” the soft psychedelia of “Feel Flows,” and many, many more. If I had to pick just one, I’d go with this understated prayer from the Wild Honey album, which takes a decidedly spiritual approach to romantic matters. The live version ups the instrumentation and features one of Carl Wilson’s most affecting vocals.
“Sound of Free” by Dennis Wilson
Students who’ve taken Playlist 101 know that you never repeat an artist. But I’m making an exception for this little-known 1970 single from Beach Boy Dennis Wilson, which captures the essence of 2 Corinthians (“where the Spirit of the Lord is, there is freedom”). While billed to Dennis solo, the song features backing vocals from both of Dennis’ angel-voiced brothers and a lyric penned by Mike Love, so this is a Beach Boys release in all but name. It’s also highly possible that Dennis was singing from the Christ perspective, inviting listeners first to come and see, and then to come and follow, as the “sound of free” beckons them through low valleys and over mountain peaks, out of shackles and into the light of (divine) love. Glorious stuff.
“The Ghost of Rockschool” by Belle and Sebastian
When we speak of God’s presence and power in the world today, we are speaking of the Spirit. So when Stuart Murdoch sings that he’s seen God in the sun and in the street and before bed and “in the puddles and the lane beside houses,” he’s giving a description of being surrounded by the Holy Spirit. Throw in an extraordinarily pretty melody, a few semi-inscrutable references, and a charming flute solo from Sarah Martin, and you have a mid-period highlight from Glasgow’s beloved indie collective. Murdoch includes an out-and-out God song (or two) on most of his band’s records, and “Ghost” ranks among the very best.
“Listening to the Wind That Blows” by Wilco
By the time that Wilco and Billy Bragg released volume three of their Mermaid Avenue project — in which they set unpublished Woody Guthrie lyrics to music — the public had mostly lost interest. This is a shame, since the final batch boasted what I consider to be the single most enduring composition that resulted from the sessions, “Listening to the Wind That Blows.” Wilco singer Jeff Tweedy lends Guthrie’s words an exquisite, mournful melody (and one of his all-time best vocals), while the band provides the sort of sympathetic backing that wouldn’t have been out of place on Yankee Hotel Foxtrot. The wind for which the protagonist listens blows through graveyards and midnight beaches and crowded cities, finding particular resonance in the ears of the lonely and brokenhearted. No doubt this peculiar vector is part of what pneumatologists mean when they refer to the Holy Spirit as Christ-shaped.
“Full Force Gale” by Van Morrison
We’ve now entered the Irish section of this playlist. First up is Van the Man’s supremely pneumatological moment from 1979, which boasts a joy not heard in the cantankerous soulman’s voice since 1967’s “Brown Eyed Girl” (or possibly 1972’s “Jackie Wilson Said”). “Full Force Gale” lacks none of the infectiousness of those earlier hits, but this time the Holy Spirit, not some young lady, is the object of praise. The horns are classic Morrison, but the real star here is Vicki Marcus’ electric violin, which weaves its way through every phrase, evoking the very uplift Van is lauding in the lyric. Listeners hankering for more Van-mediated Holy Spirit need look no further than “And the Healing Has Begun” off the same album, Into the Music.
“The Healing Room” by Sinéad O’Connor
The cover of 2000’s Faith and Courage was a dead giveaway: a painting of a glowing Sinéad surrounded by tongues of fire. It’s my favorite of her records by a significant margin, and nowhere does she realize the promise of that Pentecostal setting better than in the opening track, “The Healing Room.” An ode to the “still, small voice” that Elijah encounters in 1 Kings (19:12), the song builds its winding melody on a foundation of whispers, as the controversial singer invites her listeners to get to know that voice for themselves, for without it “you’re not free.” It doesn’t matter what we think we believe, Sinéad intones, the Spirit is there for daughters and sons of all stripes, as an agent of both healing and laughter. The Dublin legend — may she rest in peace — may have been known for her stridency, but I prefer to remember her as she is here, searching yet serene.
“Yahweh” by U2
Our last stop on the Emerald Isles may be an odd choice for a playlist about the Holy Ghost, given its first-Person-of-the-Trinity-inspired title. But the form of Bono’s prayer is undeniably Spirit-shaped, particularly in its invocation of birth pangs. “Always pain before a child is born,” Bono sings in the chorus, echoing the words of German theologian Christoph Blumhardt who once wrote, “Although [we] may find a kind of peace with God in [the authentic Christian life], the reliable mark of the Holy Spirit at work is not so much divine peace as birth-pangs, the anxiety and unsettled feeling that accompanies profound change.” What Blumhardt was getting at is the tendency of the Spirit to show up in the negative experiences of our lives just as much as the positive ones. Blumhardt took his cue from both Jesus in John 16 and Paul in Romans 8, suggesting that life in the Spirit involves dying to oneself again and again, to pave the way for new life and hope. Take this heart and make it break, indeed.
“White Dove” by Starsailor
At first blush this 2003 Britpop leftover feels like an inauspicious final recording from legendary producer (and convicted murderer) Phil Spector. But a closer listen reveals something uncanny: a wavering, fragile appeal to the Spirit for deliverance from a freighted past. Starsailor frontman James Walsh reigns in the bombast at which the band excels (and for which Spector was so renowned!) and opts instead to sing softly of laying guns on the ground and falling on floors to witness “the white dove … rising to the sound of your God-given grace.” It’s more of a feeling than anything coherent, but you can understand why the heavy-laden Spector might have been drawn to the song — and lent it such a gorgeous string arrangement. Perhaps he harbored a secret hope that his soul might take flight on those wings, too, and be carried “out of this place.” A transcendent farewell from an unfortunate figure.
“Come Healing” by Leonard Cohen
Spector’s decline was in full view as early as 1978, when he produced Leonard Cohen’s Death of a Ladies’ Man, the sessions for which ended in a druggy haze of acrimony and firearms. Fast-forward 34 years to 2012’s Old Ideas, Cohen’s first record of original material after a lengthy hiatus, crafted in partnership with, of all people, Madonna’s righthand man, Patrick Leonard. A masterful piece of work from start to finish, Old Ideas is never more masterful than on “Come Healing,” which finds Cohen approaching familiar themes of mortality and God with timeless yearning. “And let the heavens hear it / The penitential hymn / Come healing of the spirit / Come healing of the limb.” The ministry of healing is, of course, a ministry of the Holy Spirit, and I have no doubt that’s who was in the room when Cohen was putting pen to paper. In a just world, “Come Healing” would have as many cover versions as “Hallelujah.” I’d settle for a quarter as many.
THE HOLY SPIRIT PLAYLIST
