City of Angels

National Catholic Reporter, July 3, 1998 by Robin Taylor

It is a good time for angels, those bright, beautiful messengers from God who speak peace and share the latest word from heaven. We need them now.

So does this lovely, aching planet, where every day the news goes from bad to worse, barging into our homes, curling up on the couch with us, stealing our popcorn and hope.

Another child kills in our schools, and part of the horror is that we are not all that surprised anymore. Fires from far-off lands rage out of control, impossible to ignore because our own skies have suddenly turned hazy from the smoke. Frogs and salamanders are mutating and dying, and scientists don't exactly know why. Perhaps an overstressed ecosystem, they say.

It is in this broken world that the angels appear. Many traditional depictions render them as little more than oversized, celestial Beanie Babies who use their divine powers to comfort and protect us, reminding us in weekly television episodes that God loves us in spite of ourselves. These angels are nice, but they're no longer enough. Bright lights and halos do little to satisfy the spiritual hunger of the next generation.

Young people want angels that are real, complicated, even flawed, like John Travolta in "Michael," who smokes, dances and carouses. Or Nicolas Cage in "City of Angels," Hollywood's most recent angel flick, who wears black, lusts and falls in love. These modern angels -- angels equipped to minister to today's young people -- ask questions and understand darkness. They know we are broken but love us anyway with a brilliant passion and fierce embrace.

The music from "City of Angels" reflects this Generation X take on celestial beings. It is a stunning collection that features previously released songs from some of today's most popular pop artists, including U2, Sarah McLachlan, Paula Cole and Eric Clapton. There's also new music from artists who haven't put out albums in years. These include Alanis Morissette, Goo Goo Dolls and Peter Gabriel. Taken together, these songs are a window into the prayers and longings of today's young adults.

The soundtrack's lead song, "If God Will Send His Angels," is a remixed version of the song that first appeared on U2's 1997 "Pop" album. It sets the tone for the rest of the soundtrack. This is U2 at its best, one of today's most gifted bands continuing to produce songs with an unapologetic spirituality. Ifs not often that God and Jesus are mentioned in today's hottest new music. U2 continually breaks that barrier.

Don't try to lump them with current pop Christian artists, though. They have too many questions and complaints, too much pain. "Jesus never let me down/You know Jesus used to show me the score/Then they put Jesus in show business/Now it's hard to get in the door" and "Gad has got his phone off the hook, babe/Would he even pick up if he could?" At the end of the doubt is a cry: "Hey, if God will send his angels/I sure could use them here right now."

In the movie, at least; that prayer is answered. The angels descend. The hope remains that they will do the same for us in the off-screen world.

The second angel song on the album is Sarah McLachlan's "Angel." McLachlan is one of the most talented, productive, and unabashedly spiritual songwriters of her generation. Her most recent album, "Surfacing," is breathtaking in its beauty and ethereality. "Angel," a track from that album, captures the anguish and loneliness, the isolation and fear so common to many.

"Spend all your time waiting for that second chance/For the break that will make it OK/There's always some reason to feel not good enough." Words that ring true for anyone who has ever struggled with addiction, perfectionism, broken promises or relationships. Later she sings of "a sweet madness ... a glorious sadness that brings me to my knees." Comfort is found "in the arms of the angel" who pulls you "from the wreckage of your silent reverie."

The angel who provides this solace is more than a smiling Beanie Baby. He understands broken and wounded spirits, and while he gives no easy answers, no cheap relief, there is comfort with his presence and touch.

Paula Cole's contribution to the soundtrack is a tune called "Feelin' Love," a track from her album "This Fire," which helped earn her the 1998 Grammy for Best New Artist. In spite of this honor, I'd long ago resigned myself to never being a fan. Her voice grated, seeming both whining and shrill. Her lyrics weren't much better. "Where have All the Cowboys Gone?" was sappy, and her hit song, "I Don't Want to Wait," opened with a grievous grammatical error, the kind that makes English teachers crazy. "Open up your morning light/Say a little prayer for I," she sings. Would it really be so horrible to sing "Say a little prayer for me"?

So it was a surprise when I recently found myself tapping my foot and humming along to "Feelin' Love," a song with an oozing sensuality and steady thumping beat that's hard to get out of your head. In the song, Cole relates a fantasy that includes a wet T-shirt and getting tied up to the bed. "Feelin' Love" wanders back and forth in its viewpoint, embracing both the feminine and masculine. "You make me feel like Mr. Sunshine himself," she sings. "Lover, I don't know who I am/Am I Barry White -- am I Isis? ... I will be your Desdemona."