Why Should The Devil Have All The Good Music?

Larry Norman (c) @markheybo, published under CC 2.0 license

Larry Norman († 2008) war einer der ersten Künstler, der ernstzunehmende moderne Musik mit christlichen Texten veröffentlichte. In seinem 1972 veröffentlichten Lied Why Should The Devil Have All The Good Music legte er einen Grundstein für viele andere Künstler, in dem er darlegte, dass man sehr wohl als Christ leben, aber auch Rock’n’Roll anhören oder sogar spielen kann.


Billboard nannte ihn den wichtigsten Songschreiber seit Paul Simon.


Im Jahr 1990 erhielt Larry Norman den Lifetime Achievement Award des Christian Artists Seminar. Im selben Jahr gab er legendäre sieben Konzerte im Moskauer Olympiastadion mit je 35.000 Zuschauern.


2001 wurde er von der Gospel Music Association in die Gospel Music Hall of Fame aufgenommen.


Larrys Version eines Liedes, das sein Freund Barry McGuire 1965 populär gemacht hatte. Diese Version von 2004 ist relativ unbekannt – warum eigentlich?
Gefunden im SolidRockShop als “Free Track”

Als Christ darf muss man sich zur politischen Situation äußern …

und manchmal meist sind die alten Texte auch heute noch aktuell:

Larry Norman - Only Visiting This Planet (1972)

The Great American Novel


I was born and raised an orphan in a land that once was free
In a land that poured its love out on the moon;
And I grew up in the shadows of your silos filled with grain,
But you never helped to fill my empty spoon.


And when I was ten you murdered law with courtroom politics,
And you learned to make a lie sound just like truth;
But I know you better now and I don’t fall for all your tricks,
And you’ve lost the one advantage of my youth.


You kill a black man at midnight just for talking to your daughter,
Then you make his wife your mistress and you leave her without water;
And the sheet you wear upon your face is the sheet your children sleep on,
At every meal you say a prayer; you don’t believe but still you keep on.


And your money says in God we trust,
But it’s against the law to pray in school;
You say we beat the Russians to the moon,
And I say you starved your children to do it.


You are far across the ocean but the war is not your own,
And while you’re winning theirs, you’re gonna lose the one at home;
Do you really think the only way to bring about the peace
Is to sacrifice your children and kill all your enemies?


The politicians all make speeches while the news men all take note,
And they exaggerate the issues as they shove them down our throats;
Is it really up to them whether this country sinks or floats?
Well I wonder who would lead us if none of us would vote.


Well my phone is tapped and my lips are chapped from whispering through the fence,
You know every move I make, or is that just coincidence?
Well you try to make my way of life a little less like jail,
If I promise to make tapes and slides and send them through the mail.


And your money says in God we trust,
But it’s against the law to pray in school;
You say we beat the Russians to the moon,
And I say you starved your children to do it.
You say all men are equal, all men are brothers,
Then why are the rich more equal than others?
Don’t ask me for the answer, I’ve only got one:
That a man leaves his darkness when he follows the Son

Bob Dylan schreibt schon 1963 diese Zeilen:

Masters of War


Come you masters of war, you that build all the guns
You that build the death planes, you that build the big bombs
You that hide behind walls, you that hide behind desks
I just want you to know I can see through your masks


You that never done nothin’ but build to destroy
You play with my world like it’s your little toy
You put a gun in my hand and you hide from my eyes
And you turn and run farther when the fast bullets fly


Like Judas of old you lie and deceive
A world war can be won you want me to believe
But I see through your eyes and I see through your brain
Like I see through the water that runs down my drain


You fasten the triggers for the others to fire
Then you set back and watch when the death count gets higher
You hide in your mansion as young people’s blood
Flows out of their bodies and is buried in the mud


You’ve thrown the worst fear that can ever be hurled
Fear to bring children into the world
For threatening my baby unborn and unnamed
You ain’t worth the blood that runs in your veins


How much do I know to talk out of turn
You might say that I’m young, you might say I’m unlearned
But there’s one thing I know though I’m younger than you
Even Jesus would never forgive what you do


Let me ask you one question: Is your money that good
Will it buy you forgiveness? Do you think that it could?
I think you will find when your death takes its toll
All the money you made will never buy back your soul


And I hope that you die and your death’ll come soon
I will follow your casket in the pale afternoon
And I’ll watch while you’re lowered down to your deathbed
And I’ll stand o’er your grave ’til I’m sure that you’re dead

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