There's Just Something About This Man
Bill Gaither insists it's not about him. And nobody seems to disagree.
Mark Allen Powell | posted 4/01/2004 12:00AM
No one ever thought Bill Gaither would be hip. Not in 2004, at least. He wasn't all that hip a generation ago, when he was writing songs for Elvis Presley and racking up Grammy and Dove awards like some '70s version of Steven Curtis Chapman. By now, surely, his day should have passed. He can't rap (at least he doesn't) and he doesn't dance (at least he shouldn't).
Yet here's Bill Gaither, on top again. Since 1998, his name has appeared frequently on Billboard's Top Ten Music Videos chart—not the Christian music chart, but the general Top Ten Music Videos. Christian rockers like Switchfoot and Big Dismal may be making headway among the MTV crowd, but it's Gaither who competes with Missy Elliott, Dave Matthews, and Elton John on the video sales lists. Who saw that coming?
"I sometimes wonder what folks like Elton think when they see that chart," Gaither chuckled as he spoke to Christianity Today at his 29th annual Praise Gathering in Indianapolis. "Bill Gaither? Who's that?"
Who is he? He's a farm boy from Alexandria, Indiana, who has never shaken the dust of that small town from his feet—or from his art. He's a former schoolteacher and basketball aficianado whose devotion to learning and teamwork is still evident in his approach to the music business. He's an entrepreneur who runs several different companies and is regarded as one of the most successful Christian executives in America. He's a curious hybrid of poet and industrialist, of bumpkin and guru, of living legend and modest disciple.
"Do you want to know what's hip?" Gaither asks, reflecting on the radical diversity in the music scene today. "Hip is being what you are. What's unhip is trying to be something you're not." It's interesting he would think this, since authenticity is the single quality others attribute to him the most. "Nobody's perfect," says bandmate Guy Penrod, "but Bill Gaither is real—there is no difference between his public and his private persona."
The Homecoming Phenomenon
Gaither still lives in Alexandria (pop. 6,028), making the kind of music that he finds inspiring with an integrity and a humility rare for an industry obsessed with fame. Bucking trends current in both the religious and secular markets, Gaither has sought to take the focus off of celebrity consciousness and to fix it on the music itself (and on the message the music conveys).
The best-known examples of this pattern may be the phenomenally successful Homecoming programs—concerts featuring Gaither and his wife, Gloria, with diverse friends drawn from the world of Southern gospel. The programs draw on a rural tradition that Gaither calls "Southern singing conventions." The performers come together like a large family gathered around a parlor piano and take turns supporting each other, trading off on solos and partnering up to form various duos, trios, or quartets.
The Homecoming series has been critically acclaimed for its artistic excellence, and the participants testify to the remarkable spirit that imbues each gathering—a generous devotion to music that obliterates ego-driven obsessions with star power. Over a hundred different Homecoming albums and tapes have appeared in the past decade, and they have sold millions of copies. Several have been certified gold by the recording industry, and two have won Grammy awards.
Who knew there were so many Southern gospel fans out there? Actually, there weren't. Gaither had to create an audience for this music, and his skill at doing that is part of what inspires awe from his colleagues. "He is a teacher and a bridge," says Russ Taff, a Christian pop star from the 1980s who is now happy to assume a less prominent role as one of the Gaithers' Homecoming friends. "Bill Gaither is able to take what is not mainstream and pull it toward the mainstream without losing what made it special in the first place."
April 2004, Vol. 48, No. 4