Maybe it’s only because we’re talking about Christian rock and Christian rock reviewers, but U2 comparisons have followed Sanctus Real into whatever nook and cranny of pop-rock it has chosen to traipse.

It’s usually the “anthemic” tendencies and Matt Hammitt’s raspy, powerhouse singing that inspires the musical connect-the-dots. And perhaps the “classic” aura is reinforced by the band’s very un-U2-like flare-ups of affinity for classic rock, manifested over the years in wailing solos and riffs.

The people who choose those allusions might also argue that Sanctus Real deserves better than to be dismissed with the rest of the world’s disposable Christian rock. Yes, we should be thankful they’re not barraging us with the vaguely spiritual, clonetastic alternative rock gushing from the Tooth & Nail direction. But while talented they may well be, industry mavericks or classically literate rockers Sanctus Real are not.

Perhaps the most striking observation to emerge from endless listens to We Need Each Other: how much more this band is like the Goo Goo Dolls than any rock band or any iconic, classic band. It sounds like rock, but its priorities are clearly the singing, the melodies, and the emotional platitudes.

While the occasional Sanctus Real classic could easily pass for a Dolls hit (see Fight the Tide’s “Everything About You”), the parallel has deepened as Sanctus’ aggressive, youthful energy wanes. Especially on this record and its predecessor, the modus operandi has devolved into the broad, thematic agendas—say, suffering on the former or unity on the latter—that often qualifies in Christian music as a “concept album.” And by the end of We Need Each Other, one can’t help feeling that Sanctus Real has done little more than remake the same album for the fourth time, just with a different theme.

That’s not to say Hammitt’s incapable of writing a respectable song. This one has a couple — like every record thus far — and the tamer, less punkish rock tracks on We Need Each Other are perhaps a bit easier to like than early Sanctus fare. “Turning on the Lights,” with its thundering duel-guitar action and centerpiece solo, sounds excellent if it’s heard at the appropriate volume. “Black Coal” channels the Rzeznik Three with its hard-edged, grungy-pop-song aesthetic. The closer, “Legacy,” has Hammit singing down ripping, staccato riffs, and is easily the melodic highlight.

Unfortunately that’s less than half of the album, and a greater percentage finds Sanctus Real in their much less effective incarnation—as worshipful balladeers. It’s hard to overstate the badness of “Whatever You’re Doing (Something Heavenly),” which is one whisper-to-shout, arena-sized cliché, mimicking the simplest of vapid worship choruses in style and substance. “Sing” isn’t as entirely mockable, but is nothing more than another bead on Martin Smith’s string of anthemic requests for “one Church.” Also, “pride has no purpose in God’s kingdom” is a theological statement, not a lyric. Maybe Sanctus Real does mega-sized corporate worship as well as anyone else, but is anyone besides me completely funned out?

A bit more on that, if I may. One of the regrettable effects of the “modern worship” movement has been to distill theology into a watery cliché soup, and to demystify Scripture’s poetic imagery into well-worn, artless metaphors. While Sanctus Real has a couple of moments of that, too, the surface treatment of a familiar but crucial topic like unity seems ultimately too cheap and effortless. It also feels a little past-done, as if constructed from the leftover inspiration of the 90’s crescendo toward evangelical cultural and political prominence.

Truth is, we do need each other at a time when the entrenched evangelical subculture is finally experiencing fracture and transformation, and the outlook for a unified, grounded faith is rather unsure. But that desperate craving for community will never be satisfied by the “Kum Bah Yah” mentality of the late Christian music culture. And despite being generally inoffensive and entirely forgettable, records like this serve little purpose beyond igniting a craving that some inspired music-maker would dare to start discussions that need to happen.

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