As mentioned in my most recent post, I’ve been going through some struggles in the form of extended wrestling matches with the depression monster. It’s a process with corresponding highs and lows, but for at least the moment, I’m making my way through the mental and emotional mud.
MORE: A Private Little Hell
An unfortunate side effect of these days has been a severe decrease in the number of Cephas Hour episodes. I completed two episodes in February 2026, the first since November 2025. They are available on demand here and here.
MORE: Cephas Hour Episode 144 — Release Date: February 8, 2026
Cephas Hour Episode 145 — Release Date: February 17, 2026
I’ve completed a new episode. In many ways, it is the perfect summary of the podcast, in that it features music from the past, namely the sublime rock/pop/blue-eyed soul of Sweet Comfort Band. It also contains something of a mission statement for both the show and me. You can listen to the show on demand at its website, or on the following podcast feed services:
You can listen to the episode on demand at its website (https://cephashour.com/2026/03/30/cephas-hour-episode-146-release-date-march-30-2026/) or on your podcast platform of choice aside from Spotify because they haven’t figured out a way to milk the show for obscene profits. Hope you like it, and thanks.
Earlier today, I was reading a post on X by comedian and social-political commentator Bridget Pheatsy, who is 47 — for the record, that’s 20 years younger than yours truly — talking about how uninterested she is in trying to appeal to today’s twentysomethings on stage or in print. She noted how painful it is to watch people of her generation, or older, attempt to be “relatable” to the contemporary crowd by affecting an air of edginess and abrasiveness.
It gave cause to think about this show and its purpose. Primarily, it is to play the music I like, hoping you like it as well, and occasionally drop some kernels of hopefully Spirit-led truth and encouragement. Cephas Hour is not about playing the hits or who’s hot on the praise and worship charts. I have no problem with playing current artists, but their work has to fit into the master plan of presenting the best in Christian rock and pop from then and now. I have a soft spot in my heart for independent artists doing the work on their own, or with the help and encouragement of a small band of like-minded people, because they are pursuing their calling.
When I play a song by a present-day artist, it’s not because I’m trying to appeal to a different audience. It’s because it’s a good song, and because I have had conversations with the artist, and I know they have a heart for God. That’s it. Cultural relevance is not a priority. Nor can it be.
The best explanation I have ever heard of cultural relevance regarding popular music is the comment that we of the boomer generation often forget that to our parents’ ears, raised on the sounds of danceable big band jazz and smooth pop crooners with lush orchestral backing, The Beatles might as well have been death metal. I remember when I was 10 or so, discovering a Saturday night radio show called “Brady Bandstand” on a San Francisco station. It featured big band music from the genre’s heyday. I was utterly fascinated with the sounds of Benny Goodman, Glenn Miller, and so many other bandleaders. And I still give them a listen on occasion.
Now, had my parents attempted to get me to listen to big band swing, my AM Top 40 and burgeoning FM rock tastes would have immediately rejected it out of hand. You can’t expect me to listen to that old stuff when my local DJ has Buffalo Springfield coming up next! But finding it on my own? I immediately embraced it.
Jumping forward a few decades to the present day, at my workplace, I am easily one of the elders. I spend as little time as possible trying to relate to the late teens and early twentysomethings who make up much of the staff. I would look like an idiot attempting to be anything other than I am, which is something of a grandfather figure who’s been around the block a few dozen times, and aside from having at least sufficient knowledge of parts of today’s pop culture world so I’m not completely out of the loop, I have zero interest in the current rave fave actors or artists or what have you. I know enough to respect my co-workers’ excitement over K-Pop boy band BTS getting back together and hitting the road after its members’ stints in the South Korean military. I also know enough to respect that I will, at best, get a quizzical look when I reply that I am equally excited to see Rush this summer.
Taking this from hopefully amusing to deadly serious, I’m not trying to be cool or hip or relevant or whatever the current slang is for such things. I’m trying to save your life by talking about Jesus Christ, crucified and risen. If that isn’t at the core of your existence, it doesn’t matter which generation claims you as one of its own. You’ve got a big problem. One that requires the maturity to say, “I am not enough on my own, and I need the Living God in my life to get through this one and into the next.” Period.
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