"Pumped Up Kicks" and the Depiction of Darkness

Recently, I was in the car with a friend who, while driving, started singing along to "Pumped Up Kicks" by the indie pop band Foster the People. It is a catchy little tune--catchy, but not exactly happy. It has some melancholy undertones, like a depressed person who fakes a smile when she says, "Hello." It drips with 'emo' despondency.

Reebok Pumps

I'd heard the song before, and I pointed out that the catchy little ditty that my friend was singing is about a kid who fantasizes about walking into a school and shooting it up. The mad shooter is telling his victims that they better "outrun" his gun and "run faster than [his] bullet." ("Pumped up kicks" appears to be a reference to the popular Reebok Pumps from the 1980s and 90s.) For someone who was in high school at the time of the 1999 Columbine tragedy, that was too much. My friend immediately changed the station and refuses to listen again. 

Not wanting to listen for that reason is entirely understandable, but it does raise an ethical question. Being so dark and visceral, are we obligated to not listen to it? Is it immoral to expose ourselves to such dark imagery? If yes, we should change the station. If no, how do we approach it?

To answer, I don't believe that Christians are morally obligated to stop listening to the song simply because of its violent content. If we make that argument, we should not watch the Passion of the Christ, read Judges, or attend Civil War reenactments. The depiction of violence alone can't be the deal breaker. Perhaps it is the manner of presentation. The Passion of the Christ is descriptive but unequivocally redemptive. Jesus rises from the dead and brings the elect to salvation. It describes a brutal and horrific murder of Jesus, but it does not glorify violence per se or appeal to some sick fascination with it.

In 1957, Justice Brennan, considering whether "obscene" material was protected by the First Amendment, defined obscenity as a material of which "the dominant theme...taken as a whole, appeals to prurient interest...utterly without redeeming social importance..." While defining "obscenity" with legal precision is like nailing Jell-O to the wall, this is helpful, I think, for this consideration. Can we determine if the song is "obscene"? First, does "Pumped Up Kicks" serve a prurient interest? I think not. It shouldn't incite any emotionally balanced and reasonable person to violence. It describes thoughts of violence but does not prescribe it. Does it have any "redeeming social importance?" The author of the lyrics, Mark Foster, thinks so, claiming that he did not write the song to glorify violence, but rather to expose a dark reality to the light of day and to facilitate conversation (or blog posts?). Talking about the reality of isolated and potentially violent teens can be a redemptive process if done in the right spirit. I don't know the man, so I take his word for it.

So, what else could make the song so objectionable? Foster told Rolling Stone Magazine, "I was trying to get inside the head of an isolated, psychotic kid." Viewed as a work of art, this is perfectly legitimate. Plenty of classic artistic works have depicted horrific violence. He's describing the very real homicidal tendencies that potentially lie buried in the human condition. What makes it different than the Passion of the Christ or To Kill a Mockingbird is that the song itself offers no redemption or resolution. It's just pure homicidal fantasy that is packaged in cheery electronic pop. Even if it doesn't glorify violence, does its lack of explicit redemptive content make it morally objectionable to listen to? Must it say that the boy eventually calmed down and cried out to Jesus for salvation in order for a Christian to listen to it? Surely not, unless Edgar Allan Poe's The Cask of Amontillado is off limits for the same reason.

I think that, if you take it critically as a piece of art, it is acceptable to listen to it. When we view art, we examine it and ourselves. We ask ourselves how this art interacts with our values. Our guard is up, because our mind and heart are engaged. It is simply telling a story from the dark side of the human experience. "Pumped Up Kicks" reminds me of the depth of the human sin problem, which can and does lead to gruesome headlines, such as at Columbine High School in 1999. My heart is repulsed by the evil of the song, as it should be. Being reminded of the darkness of and profundity of human sin can serve a redemptive purpose.

If, however, we just mindlessly and uncritically listen it to it, we give it an opportunity to warp our minds and do violence to an unguarded spirit. I personally can't bring myself to sing the words, because it is written from the first person perspective of the (potential) murderer. I don't see how any thinking Christian could sing this song with enthusiasm. For that matter, I didn't watch the Passion of the Christ with much enjoyment either.

There are plenty of reasons not to listen to this song. You may find the imagery too repulsive to stomach, or you may just find it to be a bad song, but don't unthinkingly write it off as immoral and off limits. We are citizens of another Kingdom, but, for now, we reside in this world. It is full of darkness and light, sin and goodness. As long as we call each what it is, we're being faithful to God's goodness. The sort of violence imagined in "Pumped Up Kicks" is evil.

Isaiah 5:20 -- "Woe to those who call evil good and good evil,
who put darkness for light and light for darkness,
who put bitter for sweet and sweet for bitter."

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For another haunting but less cheery-sounding song, check out Sufjan Steven's "John Wayne Gacy, Jr.," a depiction of the famous Chicago serial killer who confessed, in 1978, to killing 33 young boys, most of whom were buried under the crawl space of his home. Most eerily, he was a professional clown who frequently entertained children. Steven's portrait of this real-life homicidal maniac is a bit more redemptive, as it calls the listener to "look beneath the floor board" of one's own heart to see what dark sin they might be hiding.

Blessings,

Charlie

P.S. Much thanks to my dear friend from Chicago, Mary Zaki, for helping me to think through this. Her sharp mind, tender spirit, and unusual appreciation for pop and indie music were very enlightening.