By Jacob Sahms of Hollywood Jesus

I’ve been waiting for this album for awhile. Not in the sort of way where I knew it was coming like Harry Potter 17 or whatever number we’re up to, but in the way you hear an album and know immediately that you can’t ever have enough of the band. I’m like that about Everyday Sunday. There’s just something about their sound that works for me, whether I’m in an awful mood and need a pick-me-up or in a great mood, and want to shout and dance around.

Needless to say, I was ecstatic to actually get my hands on the advance copy of Wake Up! Wake Up!, and I passionately admit that I was far from disappointed. From the beginning, Everyday Sunday’s pop-rock sound is as good as ever, and the lyrics in “Let’s Go Back” make me think there’s hope even on hopeless days. “I’ll tell you you’re so much more than anything you thought you’d be,” they sing, wishing for a return to better days or hoping for future ones. Are they singing from one person in a better place to a lesser one, or is this from the standpoint of God, looking down from heaven, and offering us more than our current sorrows? (That’s what I mean about Everyday Sunday—they’re not trying to conjugate Latin, but their lyrics are meatier than some crazed pop star’s!)

“Wake Up! Wake Up!” is a “wow” song for me. It speaks to me where I’m at right now, and I imagine, it’s a place I’ve been before and will be again. “Feels like I’m going through motions in the dark/Lord, give me hope, give me fire to feel something real,” they sing. Whether that’s about your job, or your relationships, or your faith, that’s a powerful statement: first, it’s a sad but vulnerably honest admission, and second, it becomes a hard-knock prayer that demands action. The truth about fire is that it cleanses, but the burning action sometimes takes us outside our comfort zone, too.

I may have completely misheard “Take Me Out,” but it struck me as back to the basic admissions that I’ve come to expect from Everyday Sunday. It’s sad, asking what to do when the feeling is gone, or when you realize that you and not the other person is wrong. In the end though, the band takes it to a higher place, singing that they don’t want to leave “without your scars.” Coming from where they’re coming from, the scars are those of Jesus Christ, his wounded hands, feet and side. And asking for those marks, asking to feel those marks, is a powerful desire, to live more fully, but not without accepting the cost.

“I’ll Get Over It (Miss Elaineous)” is different, in that the girl breaks up with him, so how will he get over it. “What We’re Here For” reminds me of dc Talk’s “What If I Stumble?” as the band reminds themselves, their fans and everyone else that they’re no bigger, better or more faithful just because they’re in a rock band. Some bands say it, but this band strikes me as one that actually means it. Taking it a step farther, they beg the people that love them, and God, too, to be there “when [our] face hits the floor” in “Tell Me You’ll Be Here.” It’s an honest admission that they will fail, and a refreshing idea in an idol-driven world.

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