“Low, low, low, low, low, low, low, low, low, low, low..”
I’m sure you’ve heard the song “All Time Low” by Jon Bellion, a chart topper when it first released in 2015. It’s easily his most popular song and could be heard on all sorts of platforms from radio to streaming services. But as a typical Billboard chart song does, it fell off the face of the earth after the next big song rose to take its place. Unfortunately, so did the song’s creator, Jon Bellion, who it seems, still hasn’t rediscovered the secret formula to grand acclaim and success. Not many people took the time to listen to the other songs in “The Human Condition” besides “All Time Low,” and those people really missed out on some fantastic works of art that speak a collective beautiful message about life, relationships and God.
I discovered Bellion in the way many other people discover new music today: YouTube. I was scrolling through, and I happened upon a behind-the-scenes video about this guy making a song. It grabbed my interest, and so there I was, entranced for fifteen full minutes as Bellion masterfully crafted a song. The content of the video was raw, almost uncut, but it was real. I saw the bumps in the road, the problems that needed to be solved and the pure joy in Bellion’s laughter when he discovered the right lyrics for the tune he had written an hour ago.
I had always acknowledged the effort that it must take to formulate good music, but Bellion made music truly magical for me. And seeing him light up when creating it made me want to do the same. That’s the mark of a great artist, in my opinion. Someone who, through their work, can compel others to go and make their own.
The final results of Bellion’s production can speak for themselves. In “The Human Condition” the musicality of each and every song is unique, yet you know it is a Jon Bellion song when you hear the “boom-bap” beat come through your speakers. His music is fluid though, and he effortlessly moves from pop to hip-hop to indie rock, all within fifty-five minutes of music. More importantly, Bellion’s lyrics and his message are what reigns supreme among the aspects of his craft.
“The Human Condition” is an album about just that: the human condition. Everything we experience as humans, from joy and happiness, to hurt and suffering, is covered in this album. Bellion has a knack for being artistically specific about these aspects of our lives. In “Morning in America,” he describes the day of a typical high schooler in America, detailing the good, the bad and the ugly. He swoons over his girl using 80’s references and airtight lyricism in “Overwhelming.” And he acknowledges there is no use trying to understand all the aspects of this life in “Maybe IDK.”
The capstone of this album is the titular, final track, “Hand of God.” Here Bellion puts it all out there, lamenting on his vices and his struggles. Then he yells “I am just a man” and acknowledges that we can feel lost and angry, but regardless of all of that, our lives are, “in the hand of God.” It’s a powerful moment to hear Bellion’s voice becoming imperfect in the moments of lament, not dissimilar to how David most likely lamented his sin to God in the Psalms.
And like David, I think Bellion knows that God is the answer to his own uncertainty, doubts and vices. Though his music isn’t Christian, I believe that Bellion, at the very least, acknowledges who God is. He is all powerful, sovereign and above all, loving.
For the last two and a half minutes of “Hand of God,” Bellion takes us back through the entire album as we hear the tunes from just about every song in the album somehow work perfectly with the chord progression of the final track. “He’s a genius,” I think to myself. I’m listening to it now as I write this article, and it’s probably my fifteenth time through the whole album, but I can’t help but come back to it.
Life isn’t always the best; in fact, somedays it’s the worst. Bellion recognizes that, but he sees the light at the end of the tunnel and the light that surrounds the tunnel. I’m thankful for artistic reminders of Who holds my lot and life.
GRAPHIC by Maggie Exum