Uncle Theology
Albums that turn the substance of expository preaching into music — every lyric anchored to Scripture, each with its own sound. Pick an album to listen and study.
John & Them
Street-gospel hip-hop through the eyes of John and his neighbors — abiding in the fire, Chesterton's fence, the bread of Judas, and the long road home — over boom-bap and gospel-choir beats.
Roots of Reason
Reformed theology set to roots reggae — the cave of Plato, the dilemma of Euthyphro, the keys of the apostle, and the empty tomb, all carried on a one-drop riddim.
Barn Dance
Scripture and old hymns kicked up into a warm, string-lit barn dance — Isaiah's courtroom grace, the martyr-hymn's blood-red banner, Bonar's voice of Jesus, and Psalm 1's tree by the water.
Proverbs
The book of Proverbs as a comic-book romp — friendship and folly, the ant and the sluggard, antithetic parallelism as an ’80s action movie, and Agur’s prayer for neither riches nor poverty.
Shady’s Bach
Bach fused with hip-hop — both father (J.S.) and son (C.P.E.) — under classical apologetics in an Eminem cadence: the two books of revelation, Aquinas’s First Mover, the new earth, and the meaning of “foreknown.”
Common Grace
A warm, genre-hopping ode to common grace — the everyday kindness God pours on the whole human race: sun on the sinner, the strawberry made sweet, small-town love, and ordinary-day glory.
That Nazarene
Shoegaze meets the Laurel Canyon — a reverb-drenched, golden-hour record in the vein of Lord Huron: doubt turned to worship, the risen Carpenter King who drew near, and the faithfulness that holds through the drifting and the fall.
Sovereign Driver
A doctrine-of-God record on Tool-heavy prog and baroque hard rock: the God who owes nothing to anyone, descending in the dark all the way to death — the Sovereign Driver who becomes the Sovereign Diver. From aseity, through the eternal decree, down to the incarnation and up to the throne of the slain Lamb.
The Inner Ring
A rock opera on '80s synth and vocoder. Dan is an assistant manager nobody sees, governing six internet kingdoms at three in the morning - until a machine that has read every word he ever wrote invites him to 'the Institute,' where a warm old man stands up for him and says 'I see you.' A retelling of C. S. Lewis's The Inner Ring, The Abolition of Man, and That Hideous Strength: the last thing the machine learns is that people will hand over anything at all to somebody who tells them they were never small.