This is quite a niche blog so I apologise if you get half way through and think, ‘what is she on about’! But if you’re getting excited about our annual Activate disco (whose attendee-made playlist last year magnificently blended Brandon Lake’s ‘Praise’ into The Killers’ ‘Mr Brightside’!), or if you came of age in the ’90s, love new music from unapologically Christian singers, and listen to Radio 2, you might like it!
Indie rock band James’s 1991 hit ‘Sit Down’ turns a roomful of strangers into best friends for three and a half minutes. The simple, uplifting melody, comforting vocals and relatable lyrics united those ‘finding themselves’ in their teens and twenties. Whenever the song comes on, we’ll all jump up and sway like Kevin the Teenager, eager to join a community of people sitting down together in sympathy. The lyrics expressed mental health crises that hadn’t been diagnosed yet, and the sort of depressive sentiment we couldn’t quite define at a time when lad culture, body insecurity, baggy tee-shirts and ProPlus made the world go round.
‘Those who feel a breath of sadness
Those who find they’re touched by madness
Those who find themselves ridiculous
Sit down next to me’
(Sit Down by James, 1991)
The nonchalant, ironic sentiment of those famous lyrics, ‘Hope that God exists / I hope, I pray’ express the deep yearning still resonating in the early hours of the morning when agnostic/atheist-raised Gen X-ers and Millennials are woken by ageing bladders.
As a young Christian in the ‘90s, I didn’t sit down with James in misery, but victory. I knew that God exists, I hoped and I prayed. After a lot of analysis, I decided I was fine to join in with another of my great loves, Michael Stipe from R.E.M., when he sung ‘That’s me in the corner / That’s me in the spot-light / losing my religion’. I felt enlightened – my love was for God, and since Jesus saves through faith alone, losing religion didn’t necessarily mean losing God. My evangelical background taught me not to rely on rituals, and my in-depth study of Martin Luther and The Protestant Reformation convinced me that the trappings and ritualistic religion of the Medieval Catholic Church were unnecessary.
30+ years later, and I’ve again been comforted by the familiar tones of James’ frontman Tim Booth as their new-ish song, ‘Hallelujah Anyhow’ was Vernon Kay’s record of the week on Radio 2 last week. It’s decades since ‘Sit Down’ was released but it’s clear Booth is still uncomfortably perched on the fence as to whether he believes in God or not. Aiming to be cool and nonchalant (and, in my opinion, protesting too much), he even recorded a voice note for Vernon, emphasising that he stands by the lyrics that tell of him (still) opposed to religion.
‘I don’t believe in religion
Another face of control
But in the nature of this world, I spy a maker
So, hallelujah anyhow’
(‘Hallelujah Anyhow’ by James, 2025)
Too right the magnificence of this world reveals a maker!
I’d love their next song to point everyone more definately to God than this, but it’s interesting to note that, throughout his varied life in dance, music, song-writing, acting (notably, Booth played Judas in the 2006 production Manchester Passion), meditation teaching and spirituality, the 65-year-old hasn’t dismissed the idea of a higher power.
Again, we have a flippant juxtaposition of the concept of God with a too-cool apathy towards discovering Him. Booth is a master wordsmith and must realise that Hallelujah means ‘praise the Lord’ but it’s something to declare with boldness, reverence and awe, not an apathetic ‘anyhow’ as resigned to there being some sort of truth in it.
The song is a cry to step away from our screens, embrace nature, each other, and the worship of someone/something. Acknowledging the beauty of this life, Booth soberly admits ‘This one’s nearly over’ and I hope and pray this creative force finds a relationship with Jesus and he is united with the maker he ‘spies’.
In still dallying around wondering if there could be ‘more to life than this’, the band threaten to be relegated as passé to a fervent new generation of music fans. The plethora of new pop, rap, folk and indie music shamelessly acknowledging Christ as saviour is filling Spotify playlists of the under-25s in a similarly astonishing rate to Gen Z and Gen Alpha filling pews in churches (A 2025 Bible Society/YouGov study found that church attendance among 18-24s has increased by 50% over the last six years, with nearly 20% going on a Sunday!).
Popular indie-folk Christian artists such as Forest Frank, Josiah Queen and Lauren Daigle offer real hope and answers to the questions James have left hanging in the bohemian ether for 40 years.
‘I don’t wanna lose my soul
Chasing after things that don’t
Lead me straight to You, and
I don’t wanna lose my gaze
When I meet you face to face
Well done, welcome home
Now I’m running home
Like the prodigal’
(The Prodigal by Josiah Queen, 2024)
I’m all for celebrating the ’90s revival and I’m overjoyed to hear James on the radio again, but I’m ecstatic that this generation of teens seem to be living in a real sweet spot for Christian coolness which isn’t forcing them to choose a dual life of cigarettes and alcohol-fuelled Britpop on a Saturday night and gleaming, Sunday-best ‘Songs and Hymns of Fellowship’-singing a few groggy hours later.