Esterlyn offers a sonic worship feast

Esterlyn is usually dubbed a worship band—a fair description considering their easily absorbed choruses and focus on God. But their curious combination of roots music and electronic programming doesn’t sound like ordinary worship music at all.

Then again, band founder and lead singer Luke Caldwell did not take an ordinary route to becoming a worship leader. By the time Caldwell left for Bible school at age 19, he hadn’t played a lick of any instrument or remotely considered a career in music or the arts. One day at school, a girl he had never met walked up to him and simply said, “God told me to give you this guitar,” according to NewReleaseTuesday.com. Caldwell accepted the gift and prayed to grow in worship. Although he claims he could “barely sing or play for years after that,” something eventually clicked, and he began leading worship at Calvary Chapel in Boise, Idaho. Soon he went on to play national worship conferences and began touring with Kutless.

Esterlyn’s penchant for combining earthy, analogue textures with keyboards and digital manipulation makes for a unique blend of pop and “folktronica.” As such, their newest release—a seven song EP titled Love—may irk purists. But Esterlyn’s hip mixture is a breath of fresh air—or at least a virtual simulation of a breath of fresh air.

In some songs, the electronic dimension is so understated it’s unnoticeable, as in the track, “Break My Heart.” A quick-moving, Mumford-like guitar strumming spreads over the song like a breeze across the dusty plains, effectively representing the drought-defying hope of which Caldwell sings: “You hear the cry that can’t be heard / You see the heart that’s filled with hurt / You know the name of every unknown orphan child.” Caldwell pleads to see as God sees, in order that His love might spill over the banks of theory and theology to impact the world of flesh and blood.

“Love” is the other end of the spectrum, boasting a keyboard and digital beat front and center. Though not their best track, it’s evidently the band’s summary statement. The liner notes announce, “John Lennon was right when he said, ‘All you need is love.’ The longer I am alive the more I realize that love is why we are here.” Unlike Lennon, Esterlyn recognizes that “the only problem is that we are not very good at it on our own.” The arching vocals and punchy synthesizer call to mind the 80s band Tears For Tears, but with a more spiritual focus: “With all that I could ever want / There’s only one thing that I need / To fill my heart with your love / To let you be a light in me.”

Esterlyn’s lyrics are usually simple, usually straightforward. So, too, the song structures and instrumentation. Yet what emerges is anything but. Like the loaves and fishes, Esterlyn gathers a few assorted items and somehow finds them multiplied into a satisfying sonic feast. This is partly due to a knack for production and simple good taste. Credit also goes to Caldwell’s voice, which carries that strain of indie-nihilism that sounds like a disaffected cry. But instead of leading a cry of social revolt, Caldwell’s is a cry for compassion: “Lord of compassion please help me to see / your love for this world could shine through me / break my heart and give me yours.” The key to unlocking Esterlyn is the same to understanding the loaves and fishes—namely, all you need is love.