Skillet is an artist that needs no introduction. Soon to be hitting the three-decade mark as a band (in various membership combinations, but always with the distinct vision and voice of lead singer and lyricist John Cooper at the helm), the group has managed to surf the changing tides of the music industry and remain relevant and consistent with their musical and live output from day one.

Alas, their new album Revolution finds the group treading water musically and thematically at best and pandering to an unknown demographic at worst with a few questionable theological lyrics and pseudo-political ramblings that (at times) sound just generic enough to be considered revolutionary by any side that wants to claim them.

And it all starts right away. The album kicks off with "Showtime," a typically blistering opening track from this band that, taken at face value, has troubling theological overtones: "Make my mark, no apologies / A day in the life, a revolutionary / Here we go, here we go, here we go / My life, high life / King over my empire / Nothing's gonna stop me / It's show (Show) time (Time) / One chance, one shot / Talk is cheap, so what you got? / World is gonna watch me / It's show (Show) time (Time)." To be fair, there are perhaps some directions that Cooper meant these lyrics to be heard in (perhaps an encouragement to not simply be a victim or have a passive attitude in life), but this potential perspective is largely lost in the "my life," "king over my empire" sloganeering that is the antithesis of the gospel message of surrendering one's own kingdom to Jesus and His call on our life to lay it down. This is a long way from Cooper's lyrics in "Gasoline," from the band's first album released 28 years ago, "You want to, you want to / Soak my heart in gasoline / Light a match and consume me / Soak my pride in gasoline / all of you and none of me." Skillet has been drifting into questionable messaging for a number of albums now, and opening Revolution with this track is a statement of purpose that should ring alarm bells. Nuance matters; context matters. And shouting a message that may feel good but has troubling undertones matters.

First single "Unpopular" features another bit of bravado that fits in the classic youth group methodology of encouraging the listener to value taking up unpopular opinions and viewpoints, but lacks any sort of lyrical foundation as to what those opinions and viewpoints may be: "Unpopular, unpopular / Call me out, clasp down / Can't supplement true facts / Have you heard? I'm a commoner / Got my family, sanity, everything I need / If freedom is disease, who would ever wanna be popular? / For what it's worth, I think today's a good day to be unpopular." This sort of well-meaning advice is actually problematic if divorced from context, because someone could hold all sorts of troubling viewpoints and cling to the would-be-virtue of "I must be right about this if it's an unpopular opinion." Again, context matters here. The idea of standing up for what is right no matter what the crowd may say is a noble and biblical idea. This advice, shouted against heavy metal guitars without a shred of nuance in a politically divided time is suspect and irresponsible. The headlines of our times are filled with those who have taken troubling viewpoints on critical, nuanced issues and have remained inflexible and contrarian to reason and common sense in the name of being "unpopular." This type of bumper sticker logic in the guise of a three-minute rock song is just lacking.

This hackneyed, quasi-political nonsense finds its nadir in "All That Matters," an inoffensive set of conservative dog whistles that drags out the tired "family, faith, freedom" alliteration (three noble concepts indeed) and tries to polish them up with a tuneless song that sounds as if it was written by ChatGPT to appeal to a conservative demographic without being too overt: "My faith, my family, my freedom / That's what's backin' me / Gives me a reason for living / I gotta fight for what I believe in, believe it / Love loyalty / I pledge fidelity / In this land of liberty, it's everything / My faith, my family, my freedom's / All that matters to me." This type of t-shirt tagline writing is beneath an artist who's been in the business as long as Skillet has. The use of "war imagery" here is troubling, too. For people of faith to blithely use fighting rhetoric like this in a heated time, politically speaking, is irresponsible at best and reckless at worst. (And Skillet releasing this album a few days before a contentious election seems to be further indication that they would like the album to be associated with the current political context.) Closing track "Death Defier" is not as egregiously troublesome in its lyrics as some songs here, but still promotes an unhealthy, triumphant viewpoint that is devoid of any gospel awareness at all.

There are a few moments where genuine sentiment breaks through all the propaganda. The sincerely heartfelt "Happy Wedding Day (Alex's Song)" is a wonderful reflection on the Coopers' daughter's wedding and finds John Cooper at his lyrical best: "Leave the dishes out and we'd put you to bed / Say no to one more story that I wish I'd of read / I didn't know then it'd come to an end / And I want it back now / We started out with dreams and love and nothing more / We ate from paper bags and we slept on the floor / Sometimes we weren't sure 'bout this adventure / But you made us so proud / I blinked, it went faster than a freight train / Happy wedding day." Any father would be proud to write such a tear-jerking song, and the little details, like "eating from a paper bag," make for a well-rounded picture of life on the road with a family in tow. And "Defector" is a nice throwback to the worship-adjacent tunes of past albums like Hey You, I love Your Soul and Alien Youth.

But despite those good moments, the theological and ideological red flags on Revolution are too many to overlook. Bumper sticker lyrics may say something in a sharp and clever way, but they rarely promote introspection, conversation, or a healthy contemplation of complex subjects. Skillet is capable of much more and, given the massive platform they have rightfully earned through years of earnest hard work, has a responsibility to sing about so much more and raise the conversation for their listeners in a constructive and meaningful way. With Revolution, the band manages through their intense inoffensiveness and lack of a viewpoint to say nothing, and to say it very loudly.