Between the Dreaming and the Coming True (Compact Disc)

While it’s certainly true that “clothes don’t make the man,” it’s a symbolic step when a singer/songwriter who’s best known for his wardrobe of wrinkled T-shirts and khakis opts for a suit and tie for his new CD’s artwork. And, for Bebo Norman, that’s only the beginning of what’s different this time around with Between the Dreaming and the Coming True, his fifth major-label album.

Instead of employing the introspective-guy-with-a-guitar routine of years past, he’s experimenting with a variety of musical textures, something that’s apparent from the outset on the piano-driven (yes, piano) cut “Into the Day.” Overall, his sense of adventure, musically speaking, is refreshing. It’s a little maudlin like David Gray’s latest some moments, then warm and jangly like Josh Rouse’s work the next. But, even though the album largely succeeds as a whole, there’s something about “Into the Day” that simply doesn’t jell. While the scaled-back accompaniment aptly showcases Norman’s rich tenor, the mood morphs from plaintive to easy-breezy pop far too quickly, making the track disjointed. Quite possibly, this may have been his intention, considering the theme of the record (more on that in a minute). However, the end result feels more like a few fractured ideas rather than a cohesive progression.

Despite the uneven beginning to Between the Dreaming and the Coming True, the idea that “you can’t understand light unless you understand darkness” is adeptly conveyed through tracks such as “Be My Covering,” a yearning plea for relief during the hardships of everyday life. Even better is the somber but poignant “Time Takes Its Toll” and “The Way We Mend,” two particularly relatable and heartfelt sentiments in the uncertain, war-ridden world we live in.

For those who may feel like they want to sit this one out because of what could be perceived as depressing subject matter that hits a little too close to home, there’s significant payoff if you’re up for the challenge. While hope in Christ is found in each song—even in the melancholy closer, “Now That You’re Gone,” an ode for those who’ve faced extended bouts of loneliness and grief—Norman doesn’t settle for easy answers or contrived clichés. And honesty like that, the kind that’s not tied neatly into a bow, is not only worth a listen but should be celebrated.

CHRISTA A. BANISTER

Review Provided by CCMmagazine.com