I certainly do not advocate the outlawing any music. Yet I think it may be instructive to point out that much of contemporary music does not represent a continuous spiritual bridge between it’s antecedent art forms but instead represents a distinct spiritual break.

Rock ‘n roll certainly is the music of the Devil. Yet in doing so, it at least ontologically embraces the concept that good and evil exist.

When the narrator of Robert Johnson’s “Cross Road Blues” bargained with the Devil, he knew such a deal came at a terrible price — his eternal soul. This archetype not only sired the Blues, but likewise sired the progeny of the Blues, Rockabilly and R&B.

So when the narrator of Johnny Cash’s “Folsom Prison Blues” confesses he “shot a man in Reno just to watch him die”, he laments not only the loss of his freedom but also the shame and guilt he has over the mortal sin of murder. The familiar Gospel trope of a train rolling down the tracks is a reminder that we all will at some time reach the end of the line while confronting our final — and eternal — spiritual destination.

Similarly, when the narrator of Jimi Hendrix’s “Hey Joe” confronts the villain-protagonist of the song about the purpose of the gun in his hand, the song is infused with the knowledge that though Joe may outrun the hangman’s noose, he will not ultimately outrun eternal judgment. The song thus becomes a dirge, a warning of impending damnation.

These two songs offer an example that what came to be called rock ‘n roll was firmly rooted in the Gospel music tradition of both spiritual damnation and spiritual redemption. Yet much of contemporary music is not simply a reinterpretation of it’s antecedent art-forms but a rejection of the spiritual themes that infused such art forms.

Too much of contemporary rap and rock embodies nihilism for nihilism sake. The gap between Robert Johnson’s “Cross Road Blues” and much of contemporary rap is thus an unbridgeable chasm.