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Tales from a Downtown Pub Crawl

Where to Buy Used Stuff

Paths of Most Resistance

Road to Excitement 

Sir Blaire of Rothes

Six Shooters

Notes from the Underground

Gospel Music?

A Queen for a Day

Madison Street

Discin'

E.C. History

Editor's note

  Gospel music?

Catalyst turns religious values into rock 'n' roll.
By Steve Hyden/Photos by Kevin Braley

Steven Grahmann, lead singer and songwriter for Catalyst, is about to whip the crowd into a frenzy. As the fourteen piece band behind him kicks into high gear, locking onto the killer ska-punk groove of "All I Wanna Do," Grahmann starts jumping in place, waving his microphone in his hand like a track runner frantically grasping a baton. As if on cue, the crowd follows him, leaping around to and fro, enthusiastically feeding off the band's considerable, horn driven energy.

Then things get really crazy. Sax man Aaron Walker is not content to merely observe the audience's fun from the stage. He decides to throw himself into the action ... literally. In the blink of an eye, Walker is the front row, waving his lanky body around like a man possessed. The crowd digs the band even more.

The scene almost makes you forget that Catalyst is playing at a Baptist conference for teenagers at 9 a.m. That's right. In the morning. Not very rock 'n' roll. This gig is not taking place in a club or bar somewhere, either. Catalyst is playing a Baptist Conference for teenagers. Also not very rock 'n' roll.

Catalyst isn't your typical Eau Claire band. The band plays a mishmash of ska, rock, pop, and punk, and they're fully capable of going from full out, Reel Big Fish style rock ska to gentle, swaying Dave Matthews inspired acoustics. If this crowd's reaction is any indication, Catalyst lives up to its name when it comes to sparking an audience's excitement. Still, you aren't likely to find them playing at The Metro or The Cornerstone. They've even recorded two CDs, but unless you're part of a select audience, you probably don't own it.

Catalyst is a Christian band, or as guitarist and songwriter Tim Oas puts it, "We play churches." To call this latest show a gig would be like calling communion a shot of liquor and some grub.

The conference is being held in a rented convention room at the Ramada Inn on Clairemont Avenue, a few blocks away from UW-Eau Claire, where most of the members go to school. The audience looks like they're between the ripe old ages of 14 and 16. There's middle aged people sprinkled throughout, mostly likely chaperones for the church groups that have come here from the surrounding areas. The kids wear T-shirts emblazenoned with phrases such as "I Like Jesus or some variation thereof. Many look like your run of the mill skater dude, with way-too baggy jeans, dyed hair, and multiple facial piercings. The only difference being these kids are far more likely to listen to DC Talk than Sublime or Korn.

Bassist Nate Miller says Catalyst gets offers to play church gatherings like this one all the time, an exciting prospect for a band itching to spread the Lord's word as well as its own gospel - it's okay to be a Christian, even if it makes you different. The only thing standing between Catalyst and a more intense schedule of shows, Miller says, is, well, Catalyst. Or more specifically, its size. Fourteen people now call themselves members of Catalyst, which makes it resemble more of a travelling circus show than a rock band. Suffice to say, it is very difficult to find the same opening in fourteen different schedules.

Even practicing can be a problem. Miller says the band usually can only practice once or twice before it plays at a church, camp or conference. Practice time was especially limited when Catalyst recorded its latest CD, "Broken," in January; the band got the songs together quickly and laid them down in a Madison studio. This meant, for two songs at least, that Catalyst would find itself recording songs it just learned, Miller says.

But Miller says the band is not about sounding musically perfect. The band even comes out and says it in the liner notes of "Broken." "Catalyst exists not to be perfect, but to be broken," it reads. "We need to be in order to usher in the power of the unchanging holy spirit." Any band that can look at its musical imperfections and call it gospel must have a higher power on its side, and as Miller sees it, recording and playing live are part of a higher purpose. "I like seeing the crowd reacting," he says. "The point of the CD is for people to worship this way at home."

Before Catalyst hits the stage, Grahmann jokes that the conference leaders, who are wrapping up a banner-making contest at the moment between all the churches who sent kids to the conference, hate the band. Small wonder why. The band is causing a ruckus and carrying on like the naughty kids in the back of the class. "We're so rowdy," he laughs. "it's always the band causing problems." Catalyst has made it a mission not to act like you are supposed to in church. "We try to be as unchurch-like as possible," Grahmann explains. "The music is pretty different from most church music." For its first CD, Catalyst played rock 'n' roll versions of Christian worship choruses, "jazzed up" as Grahmann puts it, to make them more accessible to younger people. What drives the members of Catalyst is the belief that God transcends the man made walls of a church, or the man made rituals that often turn young people off. "We don't do hymns," as Grahmann says.

Another thing Catalyst "don't do" is play concerts. A concert is set aside for the audience to see a particular band or singer. Catalyst is too self-less for that. The focus is always either on the audience or to God, or both at the same time. The members of Catalyst see the band as an instrument for others to pray, worship, and just be closer to God. "We don't want to be a show band," Miller says. "We don't want people just to watch us." That's why practicing is ultimately of small importance to Catalyst. Striving for a perfect sound goes against the "spirit" of what the band is trying to do. "We never talk about 'a show'," Oas explains. "(Instead), we put all our energy into worshipping God."

This sets Catalyst apart from most Christian bands, even those in the Eau Claire area. Bands like Oxygen and One-Core , who often play churches and youth group gatherings, play DC Talk and Jars of Clay covers and place on a stronger emphasis on "doing a show." Cedarcreek Community Church, the home base of Catalyst, regularly feature these bands. While Oas says Catalyst chooses to put worship over the music, he says each Christian band appeals to a particular audience. "Different bands have different purposes," he maintains. "They're heart is in the right place. They reach a ton of people that way." 

"I like to be blunt," he says. "That's my style." Being blunt means leaving no doubt that every one of Catalyst songs is about God. In the lyrics sheet for "Broken," the Bible verse that inspired each song is included. When the band plays live, it puts its lyrics on an overhead projector, not only so the audience can sing along, but to remove any doubt as to what the songs are about. "We try to leave nothing unexplained," Grahmann says. "We don't want to hide what we're doing there. If we lie about what we're doing, we don't connect with people. People see right through us." 

Grahmann points out a crucial difference between rock and Christian rock. While you can enjoy rock 'n' roll at face value, Christian rock is a gateway into a way of life. The message dominates the noise, not vice versa. If someone goes to see Catalyst, enjoys the music and ignores the words, the band hasn't achieved what it has set out to do. "The music is a way to get people in there," Grahmann says. "It's not the best (if people ignore the message). We talk about how seeds are planted."

Along with Grahmann, the soft spoken and easy going Oas could probably be considered the closest thing to a leader in Catalyst. Oas played in secular bands before playing in Christian bands. The biggest difference he can think of between playing in a Christian and a Secular band is getting paid. It's quite a different situation in Catalyst. "I lose money every time we play a show," he says. "We do it for God."

Oas met Grahmann in middle school, when they shared the first trumpet's chair in band class. Oas remembers how he used to punch the young Grahmann in the arm every day in class. "He hated me," Oas says. Grahmann, whose father is a Christian missionary and pastor, had just moved to the United States from Scandinavia at the time. The two didn't become friends until the summer before their sophomore year, when they both were at the same Christian summer camp. Oas, who had been raised in a Christian household, says his life changed. "I actually got something out of God for the first time," he explains.

While Oas was coming to God at this time, Grahmann felt himself drifting away for a brief amount of time in high school. "There's so many things (in high school) saying it's lame to be a Christian," Grahmann says, and then admits, "It's easier not to be." Grahmann says he started looking at other religions, to see if you could find something lacking from what he was raised on. Eventually, however, his search lead him back home. "The more I looked at the Bible, the more I saw the truth I was looking for."

When Grahmann headed off to Eau Claire, his Christianity was further strengthened by Intervarsity, one of three student Christian groups on campus. "I found Christians who weren't judgmental," he says. While there's no bad blood or difference in philosophy between Intervarsity and either of the two other student Christian groups, Campus Crusade for Christ and Navigators, Grahmann and Oas thought there should be some way to bring the three groups together to worship. Catalyst, which draws its members from these three groups, was born.

Catalyst started playing worship shows in Schofield Auditorium in the spring of 1997. Since then, it has expanded its repertoire beyond campus, seeking to spread the word of the Lord to as many people as possible. How far the expansion goes, however, is still up in the air. "This is past our expectations," Miller says. "All of this stuff is now new." Catalyst is taking the money it gets from sales of "Broken" and t-shirts to go to Honduras this summer and do missionary work. "All of our money goes to support things were doing," Grahmann says.

"It's all in God's hands," Oas says. "I'd love to play at camps forever. It's awesome."