Around nine years ago, I met Dan and Serenity Johnson at my church’s Super Bowl party—which I will admit is not a place I typically expect to meet interesting people. But as the weeks went on and I got to know them better, I was surprised at the breadth of Dan’s encyclopedic knowledge of music history, which the couple combined with an incredible talent with their project The Bell & The Hammer and their 2010 record To Set Things Right.
Shortly after releasing that collection though, their musical ambitions were set aside as they transitioned into parenthood. But as I’ve remained close with Dan through the years, he constantly shared bits of songs they were working on, and this past year, those songs finally found release in their sophomore record, The Things We Get Wrong. And let me just tell you. This record makes me feel honored to count them among my friends, because personal connection or not, this is a masterpiece.
To Set Things Right was buoyed by the intricate arrangements of Dan’s guitar playing with Serenity’s impressive voices and nuanced songwriting. The lyrics found comfort in tension, holding doubt in one hand and hope in the other. But now, caught between over a decade of parenthood and the loss of parents, that bittersweetness cuts even more precisely.
In “Let You Stay,” they reflect on how the zealousness of their youth caused damage to those around them. “If Only For the Night” offers a prayer for justice, which is tempered by the following track “I Know Why People Leave,” they wrestle with what the cruelty of the Church says about the nature of Christ. “I Am the Wounded” dives deep into grief and trauma put to a 90s alternative pop song. “God Hates (A Broken Heart)” gets even more specific, embracing parents who have lost a child. The title track lives in the tension of deconstruction and religious-onset anxiety for eight spellbinding minutes.
And all of this lyrical tension is set to some of the finest arrangements folksy indie rock has to offer. Subtle meter changes abound, giving a conversational cadence to the songs. Odd time signatures are played so naturally that you wouldn’t notice unless you stop to count it. Serenity’s clarinet is almost as present as her voice. Acoustic guitars are augmented by layers of electric riffs, organs, and one really sick lap steel performance. “When I Was a Sailor” feels like a big-budget track, with lush layers of horns and a really tasteful baritone guitar part (played by yours truly).
It’s easy to gush about people you know, but even if I didn’t have a personal connection to this album, I’d be entranced. It combines the intimate songwriting of The Innocence Mission and the pop hooks of Sixpence None the Richer and Letters to Cleo combining it all with smart arrangements that borrow from emo, country, and 90s alt rock. And I think it says something about a record for it to impress you even after the curtain has been pulled back for you over and again. Because even though I’ve heard many of these songs from their earliest demos, that hasn’t dulled any of the magic in this album. It’s a truly special record by some truly wonderful people, and you should all listen to it.