Ron Block: DoorWay

Ron Block is the sort of Christian artist who opens minds simply because his presentation is so atypical. But on DoorWay, his second solo outing, that freshness is only partially evident.

“The Kind of Love” gets the album off to a passionate — perhaps even challenging — start. “I want to get inside your heart/To have your heart to live in me/The two to make one beat.” As Block writes in his song notes, “God created us for union with Himself; the Bible is full of depictions of God as a lover.”

Block explores this concept further in the title cut (“Hands and knees on the desert floor/Pounding out a prayer to the Lover of his soul”) and “The Blackness of the Need” (“I knew I knew the answer ‘cause I’ve seen it all before/You’re the only answer I can see/And when the question’s ended I will say forevermore/I found You in the blackness of the need.”) This is as far away from “Jesus Loves Me” in whole notes as you can get — a spiritual palate cleanser that brings new inspiration with every reading.

“Love’s Living Through Me When I Do” succeeds with a plainspoken lyric about our faulty perception of separateness from God: “The problem lives in what I see/A separate Him outside a separate me.” “Someone” offers more subtle pleasures. It’s the story of a man who leaves the spiritual home of God’s loving embrace to seek his own vision of Paradise. That it follows the same arc as the “leaving home to seek greener pastures” stories so often told in classic bluegrass gives it a cultural resonance both deep and haunting.

Fans of Block’s bluegrass work will be pleased to find two bluegrass numbers here. “Along the Way” is driven by the superstar trio of Block on banjo, Dan Tyminski on guitar, and Stuart Duncan on fiddle. “Be Assured,” one of the highlights of Tyminski’s first solo project, boasts equally capable instrumental work from Block and Duncan, especially.

The prickly guitar intro to “Flame,” and its vivid lyrical images, wouldn’t have been out of place on U2’s classic album The Joshua Tree. After spending a lifetime lost in a spiritual wilderness, the wandering soul who tells this story has the devil’s number: “You crucified the Son of Love/He called your work His Father’s cup/Risen from among the dead/Messiah’s heel crushed Serpent’s head.”

With all that promise, “Flame” falters with a generic B theme that’s much weaker than its thrilling opening. That, in essence, is DoorWay’s fatal flaw. Despite some worthwhile — even extraordinary — elements, the album is marred by generic melodies, performances, and production values.

Block’s most powerful lyrics (“The Kind of Love,” “DoorWay,” “The Blackness of the Need,” “Flame”) are blunted by the kind of one-size-fits-all melodies that are all too prevalent in terrestrial radio formats from smooth jazz to adult contemporary to New Age to Christian (The album’s back-to-back instrumental tracks, “Secret of the Woods and “I See Thee Nevermore” are just as anonymous.) Lyrics this intense deserve music to match, and it simply isn’t to be found here. And, while Block (who sings lead throughout) is a competent vocal technician, he lacks the nuance, power, and distinctive delivery necessary to be a memorable lead singer.

“Love’s Living Through Me When I Do,” with its promising minor key melody, is emblematic of the way the entire album is undercut by a production style that’s almost numbingly homogenous. Block has assembled a stellar roster of guest musicians, but their distinctiveness is buried in the production.

The uniqueness that made A-list musicians out of Alison Krauss, Jerry Douglas, Stuart Duncan, Sonya Isaacs, Suzanne Cox, and Homer, Lisa, and Lori Forbes is smothered in a production that harkens back to the country music of the 50s, with its anonymous choirs of backing vocalists. Only Tyminski’s vocals (barely) escape this fate.

“DoorWay” was made to fulfill a spiritual hunger, and it succeeds admirably on that level. Those looking to fulfill a musical hunger will have to look elsewhere.

Originally published on The Lonesome Road Review.