Writer: Chris Ahrens | Photographer:Steve Moors
I have known the name of sacred steel virtuoso Robert Randolph for a while now. Still, I often inadvertently refer to him as Robert Johnson, the crossroads blues innovator, somehow in my mind confusing those set apart by three-quarters of a century. There are obvious similarities, including identical first names. Both are African American men who at a young age brought new musical art forms to the public. But there are differences between them, one of the greatest being that Johnson reportedly sold his soul to the devil while Randolph unabashedly plays church songs for bar patrons who find themselves hypnotically singing along with a pint in their hands, swaying as if they were in a junkyard choir.
    I am seated alone in a dressing room when the 24-year-old saunters in, yawns, puts forth one of the two most talented hands in rock music, shakes conventionally, eats a few strawberries from the bowl set before him, sits down, and begins speaking. He has a lot on his mind, much of which will be left on the stage tonight. He carries the weight of being the latest big talent to come out of the church, joining a long list of others from Ray Charles to R. Kelly who have taken similar routes and, perhaps, fallen short of the Great Commission.
    Because of his deep musical and spiritual roots, Robert Randolph has the distance to view fame in one direction and salvation in another. He chooses a third alternative, the most difficult of paths, signaling the way to both fame and salvation. This is a narrow road and few find it.

RISEN Magazine: You’re a long way from the Church of God … I get the feeling that’s a rather strict denomination.
Robert Randolph: Yeah, in some ways. Many of the old guys who grew up playing there had to deal with a lot. I wanted to play like some of them. Not only did I want to play like them, I wanted to be better. I wanted to stretch out a little more.

RM: I don’t know if he said it or not, but there’s a quote attributed to David Bowie that rock ’n’ roll is the devil’s music.
RR: Music is just different, different styles. You can sing about something in a rock form, Gospel, jazz, or R&B. Rock is just a certain sound. It’s all in what they’re singing about; nothing is the devil’s music, unless you’re singing about the devil.
RM: Were any of the more conservative church members concerned that you would stray when you pursued success beyond the church?
RR: Yeah, a lot of the people I grew up in church with are concerned about us going out and playing. What church people sometimes think is that if we’re not around them, we’re going to be constantly around drugs and so many different things. But we try to take all these songs I grew up with in church, like “Jesus Is Just All Right” and “Deliver Me.” That is something I learned in the church that I can give to people. It’s the Gospel message with a rock vibe, rock edge, rock sound. We call it “rockspell.” Recording this record, talking to people like Eric Clapton and Carlos Santana—really getting to hang with them, sit down just like we’re talking now—we were able to talk life stories about where they are now, not where they were twenty years ago. Back then somebody would stick a needle in their arm, or snort blow, all those different things. They understand spirituality now. Their advice to me was, make sure and write songs you believe in.

RM: There’s got to be a lot of temptation for a rock musician, but I would think that even beyond sex and drugs, pride is the biggest one.
RR: For me it’s not really an ego thing. The more busy you become … sometimes people do have big egos, [laughs] but sometimes you become so busy while becoming a star and while becoming appreciated by a lot of people … there comes a point where … and I can only imagine what it’s like for a Dave Matthews or Prince or Clapton. For me, I don’t really see the ego thing. I don’t really get into it like that … I came from church and you know what you’ve been taught, what life brings us and what God can bring us and the talent that God has given us. To be able to sing and play and share it with people, that’s always with me.

RM: Do you think all music is spiritual?
RR: In some ways, yes it is. But it depends on what spirit you’re lookin’ for. [Laughs] There’re a lot of different spirits out there. Are you looking for good spirits or bad spirits; what do you want to fuel? If you’re depressed about something and you want to come out of it, you want to look for something that’s gonna help you get into a good spirit.
RM: Clarence Fountain of the Blind Boys of Alabama said he was in the studio when a man offered him and Sam Cooke contracts to play rock ’n’ roll. He believes that Cooke taking the offer led to his death, while his keeping on with Gospel sustained him.
RR: You never know what God has in store for other people. The fact that Sam Cooke was here for a short amount of time … nobody can say if the Lord took him away from here because of that. He is heavily influential to so many people. God might have said, Okay, that’s enough for you here. It’s not because he left the church; I don’t believe that. What do you say about the guy who lives only to be 50? What do you say about the guy that lives to be 120? What do you say about the kid who dies at birth?

RM: On one of your records you say, if you’re not going to clap or stomp your feet, get out of here.
RR: T