In the forward to his book Escape from Reason, the noted Christian philosopher/apologist Francis Schaeffer wrote that every generation of Christian has the "problem of learning how to speak meaningfully to its own age." Soul Junk is Glen Galaxy's means of solving this problem.
Galaxy (aka Glen Galloway) formed Soul Junk in 1994 when his band, Trumans Water, relocated to Portland. He stayed behind in San Diego (although he does still sit in with the band on occasion). Anyone familiar with the freewheeling experimentalism of Trumans Water will hear it echoed in the music of Soul Junk, as there's a similar sense that anything might happen at any moment. There is one notable distinction, however: a good percentage of Soul Junk's lyrics (especially on the earlier releases) are drawn from the Bible. Verbatim.
That probably bothers a lot of people, and frankly, it bothers me a little bit, too. But I've come to realize that maybe to be bothered is exactly the point, or at least one of the points. Maybe it's supposed to shock us, hearing those words and stories in these various musical contexts, into re-evaluating them.
Imagine a coarser-voiced, born-again Steve Malkmus and you've got a bead on Mr. Galaxy's style: a musical polymath, conversant in all genres without sounding contrived, or, at times, sounding so knowingly contrived as to be a self-reflexive comment upon itself. At times, Galaxy seems so drenched in irony that he comes full circle to being sincere again.
As for this 6-song, 23-minute EP, it's straight-up solid. The Beck-meets-Madlib brand of hip-hop that permeated the last Soul Junk full-length is here replaced with a frantic, spazzed-out kind of indie rock and shambling folk-pop. Synths, banjo, trumpet, and anything else found around the studio gets thrown in, creating the feeling of some sort of strange, postmodern hootenanny.
It probably goes a long way toward explaining what this record sounds like to say that a few members of the Danielson Famile lend their skills, including Daniel Smith, who also recorded and produced the EP. The loose, free-flowing vibe is best captured on the bright, EP-ending mini-epic "Good as Dead," on which Galaxy strains his vocal chords to the limit, howling, "'I will speak to you,' and as he spoke his spirit came into me," as organ swirls in the background.
But if you just want to know whether or not an adventurous-listening non-Christian could get into this, I'd say-- like with the Danielson Famile-- the odds are probably better than those of your average Jesus freak.
