There is something that comes alive in your soul when you hear something clearly outside the popular and “proven” approaches to worship music. Daniel Bashta’s sophomore release, The Invisible, is a new song. Though it’s filled with gutsy power, emotional strength, and vibrant lyrical poetry, Bashta’s most significant trait is his ability to focus the passion on the root of everything: just give us Jesus, give us the full measure of Jesus. His cry for Jesus is undergirded with a knowledge of the inherent danger in such a request—the walls must come down (“Undone” “In the Ruins”) before God can raise his city, and disease must be healed before new life is available (“Behold the Lamb,” “Praise the Invisible”). These are likely the qualities that drew such a wide range of artist—David Crowder, Jesus Culture (with Martin Smith), and Newsboys—to help introduce his songs to the world.
Structurally, The Invisible stands outside the quiet-verse-to-loud-chorus-to-louder-bridge approach, which has been the go-to formula for the past five years. Bashta may use it here and there, but he doesn’t need it; the power of the songs come from a more daring place: they are prayers that once realized cannot be contained—they seem to erupt from his soul. Because of this, The Invisible isn’t nice or comfortable; instead it is permeated with both the Cross and the peace of Christ. For instance: “In the ruins, there will be singing, in the ruins there will be healing, when the walls come down, and the church bells cease to ring.” And “Behold the Lamb of God, who takes away all filthy stains, behold this steadfast love, for sinners slain he came to save, we all cry holy.”
Perhaps one of the most refreshing characteristics of The Invisible is the music’s ability to be completely fresh and creative in an indie-alternative vein (with a strong orchestral/string presence), yet the creativity serves the prayers instead of distracting from the focus. Every beat of the glockenspiel, every bowed cello, every plucked banjo artfully supports the point of the song: honor the Ancient of Days. And Bashta’s vocal power comes in a left-of-the-dial near-Broadway dramatic way, but passionate and graceful—it’s Rufus Wainwright meets Keith Green. That said, we truly see very little Daniel Bashta in this “Daniel Bashta” release. Every eye is drawn to God, and every passionate cry, even if it is a plea, draws attention to his worth. The Invisible is music for worship at its most artistic, fresh, and iconic—it’s new song.