There’s an old saying that goes, “People miss opportunities because they come disguised as hard work.” Throughout their already illustrious career, the members of Payable On Death have had amazing doors not just open, but sometimes fall down in front of them. It is important to note that this was often the result of, and only after, years of hard work that brought them to those doors to begin with. Their story is a studied lesson in persistence and staying true to a vision and following it relentlessly.
The P.O.D. story began in 1992 when a couple of guys from the streets of San Diego, united by a love for their hometown, pounding, grinding rock ’n’ roll, and a deep faith in God that went deeper than shoutouts or liner note thank-yous, decided to form a band and take a shot at changing music history.
Faith has always been a key element of the P.O.D. story, but it’s all too easy to misunderstand it as just another tale of a Christian rock band that crossed over to mainstream success à la Amy Grant. In fact, P.O.D.’s rise to prominence has more in common with U2, for like U2 they were a band that stood proudly on mainstream terrain, refusing to accept the paradigm that a steadfastly secular entertainment culture had handed them—namely that groups sharing P.O.D.’s fervor for God could play their music, but they’d have to do it out of the earshot of mainstream music fans in the cultural gulag of Christian rock. Once there, it was almost assured that nobody except for fellow God-lovers would ever hear their music, for it was recorded for religious labels, played on religious stations, reviewed in religious magazines, and played for the public at religious-oriented venues across the nation and the world.
P.O.D. understood that paradigm and from the beginning simply refused to go along with it. They had been given the gift of music, and they intended to have it heard by as many people as possible, whether or not they shared the band’s beliefs. But that wasn’t the way the world worked in 1998, and to get there, P.O.D. would have to forge new ground. And they did.
When Essential Records, a Nashville-based Christian-oriented music label, offered P.O.D. a $100,000 recording contract, the band was in no position to refuse easy money. One of the guys was living out of his car. Another was facing trouble at home, increasingly unable to make various important payments. But to sign with such a label would have been to send a message to the rock world at large that this was “Christian rock,” and by definition not for everybody. The band thought it over, and vocalist Sonny Sandoval spoke for them all when he politely but firmly told band manager Tim Cook to decline the offer. “God has a bigger plan for P.O.D.,” he said. And it turned out he was right—A&R rep John Rubeli from Atlantic Records caught a show at The Roxy on the Sunset Strip in L.A., and the band was quickly signed to a major-label deal and history was made.
The group’s Atlantic Records debut, The Fundamental Elements Of Southtown, proved that Sonny, Wuv (drums), Traa (bass), and Marcos (guitars) could rock with the best of them, and their music skillfully wove in elements of rock, rap, and reggae. But a whole new storm would soon erupt when some devout fans, spooked by the album’s surreal cover art, demanded that the record be removed from certain retail stores. Others of a more secular nature decried the band’s refusal to keep their faith out of their songs. And the battle for the soul of P.O.D. was on: In the words of another singer named Mark Heard, who once fought a similar battle with his own music, they were too saved for the sinners, and the saved didn’t want them around. P.O.D wasn’t going to move, but America was about to.
As Providence would have it, a little song the band had written called “Alive” was released on what was until then just another day in a 365-day calendar—September 11, 2001. Few songs have ever captured a moment or appeared to have been so divinely guided as this one. Even as Americans watched their TV sets in disbelief, flooded with grief and mourning the loss of 3,000 fellow Americans, DJs across the country were balming the wounds with a song that began “Every day is a new day/I’m thankful for every breath I take . . . ”
Taken from the album Satellite, “Alive” referenced a God who allowed circumstances, sometimes painful, to develop as part of a master plan birthed in love and compassion for those that loved him. Such as the tragedy of 9/11, and a song that He had appeared to birth for that occasion in the hearts of four young rock stars—perhaps the most unlikely of all of God’s messengers.
In ancient Israel God spoke to His people through prophets, and today he seems to be speaking again to a modern world through songs like Barry McGuire’s “Eve Of Destruction,” Bob Dylan’s “Slow Train Coming,” and P.O.D.’s “Alive.” But unlike prophets of old, if these messages aren’t accompanied by compelling music, the message will have little effect. P.O.D.’s subsequent releases—including Payable On Death (2003) and Testify (2006)—continued in this tradition of delivering timeless wisdom in a contemporary package, both at the same time proving their relevance by entering the Top 10 on the secular Billboard 200 chart (and #1 Top Christian Albums).
This collection takes the listener through a variety of stages of P.O.D.’s career, including the transitions of guitarists from Marcos to Jason Truby. From the frolicking “Rock The Party (Off The Hook)” to the gritty “Southtown,” from the soaring anthem that is “Youth Of The Nation” to the moody “Goodbye For Now,” P.O.D. delivers a strong set that reminds us of what an important place in the modern rock pantheon this band holds.
