When Jesus Drops
There’s a point in every Christmas afternoon when the family is sitting around bloated and satisfied, and someone puts on Silent Night
or whatever, and the room goes quiet. Tradition, restraint, the old songs everyone’s heard a hundred times. The holiday works because of that moment.
Then I found Christian Dubstep, and I understood that this was an album made by someone who looked at that moment and thought, No. What this needs is bass so heavy it makes your teeth vibrate.
The tracklist reads like a crisis of faith run through a synthesizer: God Gave Me,
O Praise Him,
Forgive Me.
Each one crushed under the kind of production that’s supposed to destroy you in a club at 3 AM. Skrillex worship music. Jesus getting down.
What gets me is how completely sincere it is. No one made this as a joke. Someone genuinely believed this was the future of Christian music. And maybe there’s something right about that—if you’re committing to dubstep, why not commit fully? Why not make God the subject? The faith is total, which is almost admirable in how stupid it is.
I never actually played it for anyone. Just thought about it—the image of it, everyone expecting carols and getting dropped into frequencies that shouldn’t exist in a room with aging relatives. That moment in my head is the real subject. The thought is enough.