If you don’t know by now, or if you are relatively new to the Angelsportion universe, my favorite band is AC/DC.

Surprised? You expected me to be someone who bops down the motorway listening to contemporary Christian music, eh? You shouldn’t be surprised, and you should hit the mental delete button on that image. Contemporary Christian music is awful. Terribly awful. I mean, so awful that if I ever get stuck in a situation where I am required to listen to it, to cloak my innermost disdain, it takes everything within me not to claw at my troubled ears as though they were filling with tiny haloed termites attempting to eat the contents of my skull. It hurts to listen to the stuff. Even though it labors tirelessly to be just like what you are hearing on the mainstream airwaves, it tends to be a few paces behind, and therefore classified as “lame.”

But in my opinion, even if in its wannabe manifestation it managed to meet the same musical delta, it would continue to crash and burn in the lyrics department, and for two reasons.

The first is that there are only so many times someone can listen to the same syrupy refrain in any song, and for some reason, contemporary Christian artists feel as though they have to write religious mantras rather than prosaic libretti designed to communicate. I mean, if I have to hear the words “praise you” nineteen more times in the first chorus, then you can count on me turning to a different station. I don’t even know how I ended up here in the first place, anyway. You obviously have no talent and are simply counting on equally shallow Christians not to recognize this particular flaw because you are safely hiding behind a repetitive time-consumer that none of them would feel comfortable criticizing. That’s not me. Your song is dreadful. And that leads me to the second reason, which also deals with substance.

How about writing a song that spends more time talking about what God has done for man rather than what man is doing for God? That is the heart of the church’s message, yes? I mean, if you say “I just wanna praise you” one more time, I think God Himself might puke on you. By the way, do you know the kind of songs that never do this? Hymns. Have you noticed that the church still sings these things? Yeah, I know you contemporary Christian music flakes are trying to get rid of them, but there’s a multitude of reasons why that will never happen, one of which is that they have staying power. You, however, will be chasing after various musical appetites for the rest of your shallow life. Just like Stryper. You probably don’t even know who those guys are, do you?

So anyway, I like AC/DC. They’re not singing the purest things, but neither are you, and the important difference is that what you are singing is being sold as “Godly,” but you are deliberately targeting souls with an incorrect perception of God and His relationship to man. In my opinion, that’s much, much worse. In fact, I think you are the reason no one respects the Christian church anymore. You guys make us look like a bunch of folks that will roll over to preference when challenged. You know who never rolled over in the face of challenge? The guys who wrote those hymns we’re still singing. And while I’m thinking about it, you should know that even Saint Paul pointed out in 1 Corinthians 11:17 that when some Christians get together with good intentions to do stuff, God stuff, their efforts sometimes “do more harm than good.” Paul prefaces this with “I have no praise for you.” If you ever want me to listen to your prattling, when singing about the efforts of man, take aim through your lyrical reticule directly at the darkened heart of man and let Paul write your choruses:

“I have no praise for you. No praise for you. No praise for you. No praaaiiissse for youuu!”

And maybe hire Angus Young to play lead guitar. That would probably help, too.

All of this relates to the Glenmorangie 10 Years Old being reviewed in that this particular whisky seems more like a hymn than a contemporary song. It seems to have staying power.

I received this whisky from a friend who also received it as a gift many years ago. He doesn’t drink Scotch, and rather than let it sit in the back of the cabinet any longer, he so kindly passed it along to me. Just inside the canister was a Christmas card which recorded the holiday gifting date as “December 1981.” I popped it open as soon as I got it home.

The nose was somewhat harsh at first, but after a short swirl and a moment to breathe, the signature Glenmorangie sweetness twirled and whirled up and out of the glass. Very nice.

The palate, like the nose, was somewhat harsh at first, but again, after a few moments, the citrus notes emerged, tapping my tongue with a little bit of honey as it headed toward the finish.

There was a lengthy warmth in the conclusion. I definitely tasted the alcohol, which dampened the mood a little. But in the end, the citrus and honey were there calling out, “Hey, over here! Look over here!” The second time around, I added a little bit of water and everything evened out.

I must tip my hat to the Glenmorangie concocters of days past. I’m glad that I got the chance to meet them through this edgy little dram. In fact…

“I just wanna praise you… praise you… praaiise yoouu!”