“The Music” or rather, the way “music” PERIOD has played such an important part in my life… the way the notes, chords, beats and lyrics enhance this human experience. Joy, sadness, resent, meaning and even RAGE. The soundtrack to life. Whether reggae or the steel drums in Jamaica soothed my weary nerves. Perhaps it was some wicked house/techno at an old school warehouse rave in New York, South Beach or D.C. … there was always something to compliment the vitality of existence. So, when I started making a few bucks, I decided to join the fun and purchased two Technique 1200’s (w/Kaoss Pad), endeavoring the life of a D.J..
Those were some good times! Hitting the record stores. Especially the one on M Street in N.W. D.C.. Learning the trade and becoming somewhat of an aficionado on vinyl and spinning those grooved discs. But truth be told, I was only OK and seemed to find more enjoyment playing with the Kaoss Pad. A type of electronic synthesizer which allows the user to bend sound, add effects and even record a short sound bite. For me, that came in the form of some vocals. Hell, it was the height of the Hip-Hop era and every kid I knew wanted to be a rapper. It was the 90’s and “rap” was where it was at!
I know it almost seems funny now… a 50+ year old white man talkin bout rap. Born in ’72. But that’s roughly the birth year of the now known “godfathers”: Jay-Z ’73, Eminem ’72, Nas ’73, Snoop Dog ’71 and let me not forget one of the original O.G.’s… Dr. Dre ’65.
… Fast Forward
So, as the story continues, I quickly found out that I had a much greater penchance for word play and being a lyricist than a locution for twirling plastic. And so my “stab” at the rap game was born. But who would I be? Every artist needs a stage name. Let’s see… my initials are M.A.K., so how about “The Real MAK Daddy?” … no way! too cheesy. And, “MAK 10” wasn’t much better. “Casper?” … lame! “Mikey Mike” i.e. like “Marky Mark” … naw, not original enough. Besides, an artist’s name needs to represent who he/she is. Their cause. Their message. Their mission. And so, like everything else in my life, I took it to God and prayed about it.
It wasn’t but a week or so later that I stopped by to see how moms was holding up. And I don’t know if you can relate, but every time I go to visit the house I grew up in, it’s like taking a trip down memory lane. The flood of nostalgia. The olfactory. The feelings and emotions evoked by seeing a certain picture hanging on the wall. Looking through old yearbooks. Amazed at some of the relics mom still possessed after all those years. Things that seemed to bring back time.
Nevertheless, I stumbled across the one and perhaps ONLY true gift The Wild Rose has ever given me. Normally, she’d simply take some existing trinket or ornament laying around the house and re-gift it to us on our birthday or X-mas. But on that particular occasion, mom actually purchased and then bequeathed the S. Michael, hand painted pewter emblem seen below. Depicting the Arch Angel over a demon of sorts. A representation of good over evil. And it was there, in that moment, I knew what I wanted to be called… “Saint Michael.”
The recollection of that epiphany was also accompanied by the memory of receiving that medallion. Thoughts of that little boy whose hopes had already become so accustomed to disappointment. Never experiencing a real Christmas or birthday (in the traditional sense anyway). Expecting that occasion to bring about the same… unwrapping and discovering something that mom had selected from around the house. Or, so I thought anyway… pleasantly surprised after unveiling the beautiful work of art you now see. But back then, in my hand as a 9 or 10 year old boy, it seemed to represent so much more. Much, much more! Iconic of the literal, living battles I waged on a daily basis: the sexual abuse from my brother Tad, the abandonment from dad, the hunger and humiliation of poverty, the schizophrenic evils cast by The Wild Rose. All neatly hedged in by the helter-skelter of this fallen world.
But somehow, in that moment, it all made perfect sense. There was “good” and there was “evil.” And despite my seemingly indelible past (as of this writing), in that moment, I knew I wanted to be “good”… and I have been fighting ever since. The apostle Paul calls our fight of faith, “the good fight” (1Ti 6:12). A fight that every man, woman and child must face. Ingrafted upon conception… “sin” crouching by our door ALWAYS, and we must master it (Ge 4:7).
And so “The Music” as it is referred to today was born. That seed’s inertia unleashed became the impetus my soul struggled with. A yearlong project consisting of writing, spittin (rapping), plying the trade of an engineer by way of Pro Tools, Fruity Loops, open mic nights, studio time and various contests. The Seminar in the Rockies was by far, at that time, St. Mikes biggest opportunity. A contest hosted annually by The Gospel Music Association (GMA). A sort of “American Idol” Christian style. A 3-day event with 100’s of contestants from a broad variety of genres. Attendance by invite only… which brings back to mind the following noteworthy story.
Saint Michael had already won several pre-qualifying competitions and made it all the way to the semifinals; “The North Palm Beach Classic.” A 1st place, winner take all event that guaranteed the victor a golden ticket (an “invite”), and an all-expense paid trip to the coveted Seminar in the Rockies. The one catch, the artist or artists couldn’t have any existing professional ties i.e. record deals, radio gigs, sponsored shows, etc., thereby leaving the door open for record execs hence they found what they were looking for.
Nevertheless, the battle in N. Palm Beach was fierce and when the smoke cleared only 2 competitors were left standing, Saint Michael and the now widely known Christian rock group Casting Crowns. Pausing for just a moment, it kinda blew my mind that I had made it all that way with a pen, a piece of paper, and a mic… and it had all come down to a split decision left to the judges. St. Mike, against a full blown band that pulled up to the contest in a custom air brushed trailer.
The concert hall remained packed awaiting the victor to be declared. And the winner was… “Casting Crowns.” According to the panel of judges, who spoke to me at length after the contest, it was a split decision. With much debate over who should be crowned “champion.” One judge sharing how they postulated that, “Casting Crowns was more marketable.” And more-over, perhaps… the world wasn’t quite ready for Saint Michael and his gut level, visceral lyrics, which could very well have been true. Hell, I’d personally coined the album, “the soundtrack for smack (heroin), and yak (cocaine), when ya under spiritual attack.” Because truth be told, that’s where I was when I purged those words. Suffering from my addictions and a weary heart… the wellspring of life. I had admittedly left it unguarded, which is antithetical to the Word of God (Pr. 4:23) and chiefly at the core of my greatest tribulations here in earth. Plainly said, I was a child of God, who didn’t cherish life like a child of God!
But the journey continued. Several months had passed since that epic memorable night. In my mind, finally accepting that a career as a “rapper” (especially a “Christian rapper”), wasn’t meant to be. Besides, I was a new father and the owner of a modest yet burgeoning business. And then the phone rang… brrrrring… brrrrring… “hello, Universal this is Mike, how may I help you?”
“Yes, I’m looking for Saint Michael.”
Caught off guard by the somewhat anomalous call, I practically stuttered my response… “ah, umm… yes, this is Saint Michael.”
“Well, good afternoon! My name is Mr. Alvez and I’m calling to inform you that you were awarded the 1st Place prize for your participation in the GMA’s North Palm Beach Florida Classic. The prize consists of his and her Trek mountain bikes and 2 all expensed paid trips to compete in this year’s Seminar in the Rockies in Estes Park Colorado. With that, congratulations! and where would you like me to send these airline tickets and mountain bikes to?”
“Wow! … thank you! … I’m in a little bit of shock right now. That contest was several months ago and a group by the name of ‘Casting Crowns’ won 1st place that night… that I know for sure!”
“Well, that very well could have been the case, but for whatever reason, GMA has now deemed you the 1st place winner. And, by virtue of that, well, I’ve already told you what you’ve won.”
Till this day I’m still not 100% sure why it went down the way that it did. But I did hear from a very reliable source, that “Casting Crowns” may have violated GMA’s contest guidelines… “that contestants cannot be engaged and/or affiliated in any type of professional capacity.” Looking back, it wouldn’t surprise me in the least bit if they had been. Their success to date speaks for itself. Regardless, I’m super happy for them and equally honored to be able to say that I’ve shared the stage with them… even if it was only once.
But back to the conclusion of “The Music”
So, there I was in Estes Park Colorado competing for… competing for… money…? A record deal…? An identity…? Looking back, in truth, I didn’t even know what I was there truly competing for. And the cover of the CD (shown below), couldn’t have captured it any better. Perhaps that’s how I decided upon it. The subconscious manifestation of my plight in reality. Depicted in art.
“Art isn’t your pet, it’s your kid. It grows up and talks back to you.”
Joss Whedon (screenwriter)
The broken cross represents the world “without” Jesus in it. The man, with eyes fixed like flint upon the cross of Calvary (looking left nor right), our human burden upon his shoulders. It is the struggle… the fight to pick it up, to become whole, to rise to the occasion of one’s calling. That’s why I named the CD “St. Michael Pick it Up!” Because that’s what Jesus told those who desired to follow him.
“Whoever wants to be my disciple must deny themselves and take up their cross and follow me.” (Mt 16:24)
… Fast forward
So, I wish I could tell you a different ending to this story, but then it wouldn’t be the truth. The “truth” that is slowly but surely setting me free. Just like God’s infallible Word says it would. A process which has been slow and arduous with no one to blame but myself. The double life I was living. The poor choices I waw making. My daily cross to bear, the errors of my ways. Yet, convinced that the grace and mercy shown to me, I now see as God simply allowing me to “live it out”. The literal “living” revelation of James chapter 1. A journey that defined its course not long after the Seminar in the Rockies, in roughly ’03.
The artist, “Saint Michael,” he made it to the finals in that year, but came up tumultuously short as a man attempting to walk according to the Fathers will. And it is still my belief today, that the spiritual premonition I experienced back then, was in fact directly from God in heaven. The still, small voice that whispered into the hallow of my soul…
“When you are living like Saint Michael, I will bless you like Saint Michael.”
And from that day, I have slowly but surely lost everything. And I mean EVERYTHING! The cars, the money, the clothes, the material possessions. But most painful, I lost my family… my children… my freedom and yes, even my sanity (for a time anyway). God, how I wish you could see me right now! Endless tears and snot running down my face. Alone in the bowels of a maximum-security psych hospital. Seen, not so that you’d feel sorry for me, but so that you could bear direct witness to where a life lived according to the flesh can land you. A tale I’m lucky enough to have lived to tell. This is my “truth”… that’s setting me free! But let me not end this story in sorrow and sadness, rather redemption, because that’s how God works. If you’ll only believe. The bible confirms as such. And if He can do it for Moses, Rahab, Abraham, Isaac, Jacob, Joseph, Jonah, David, Peter, Mary, Paul and myself, perhaps He can do it for you too. So, with that, enjoy “The Music” and the contents of this site. And remember, it’s the “Good Fight!”
Brotherly Love.
Saint Michael
“To the Good Fight!”
