Andrew Peterson Interview from

Andrew Peterson Interview from CJ Casciotta on Vimeo.

"This album grew into something I couldn't foresee and didn't intend," Andrew Peterson says of his new music project. "Counting Stars has songs that are so personal I'm a little embarrassed to incude them." A beautiful example is "Dancing in the Minefields," a haunting yet hopeful song about love and marriage.

Andrew Peterson - Dancing in the Minefields from Centricity Music on Vimeo.

Centricity Music artist Andrew Peterson is a guy with a guitar, yes, but a guy-with-a-guitar who is so intentionally rooted in the stuff of life—in family, friendship, community, home and even the very plot of land he lives on—that he seems almost counter-culture. Okay, maybe Andrew Peterson is counter-culture. But it’s not his fault. It’s the culture that shifted.

Over the last ten years Andrew Peterson has quietly carved out a niche for himself as one of the most thoughtful, poetic, and lyrical songwriters of his generation. More recently he’s established himself as the grassroots facilitator of an online literary and songwriting community (www.RabbitRoom.com) and an emerging fantasy novelist as well (The Wingfeather Saga).

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When we see Jesus’ life in context, we can then begin to see some connections to Hip Hop culture. First, Jesus had baby-mamma. Jesus was born to a virgin—right? Well, in the Jewish context of His day and time, the word “virgin” could have meant either without having sex or a “a maiden; by implication an unmarried daughter”[1] This is a problem, not just for contemporary understandings of who Mary—the mother of Jesus—actually was, but also for Mary during that key moment in time.

 

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Our twin girls, Rachel and Paige, just started Middle School, and in the course of this last summer, they seem to have transformed before our eyes.  As one would expect, there is a sudden hyper-heightened awareness to the things of their age, like appearance, style, clothing, friendships, pop culture.  And music.

It is one of our new family rituals now, that they would usurp control over the car radio during trips, commutes, and even errand running.  Step one: Slip into the back seat, talking non-stop.  Step 2: Flip from sports talk radio (my default setting) to the local pop station.  Step 3: Turn up nine decibels.  Rihanna, Shontelle, Pink, and Lady Gaga suddenly invade my Ford Explorer, and I find myself feeling really old, as I internally resist the urge to yell, "get off my lawn," in a graveled raspy voice, and pop in a Steely Dan CD.

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