Faith Features

Martyn Joseph is an angry man and when he’s angry you know it.

You can find it in his songs; it's even in the way he hits the guitar strings and holds his head. What makes him angry is 'any sort of terror, any sort of spite' – as he says during one of the songs on this month's album – or anything that uses and abuses ordinary people.

It's been a recurring theme in recent years and Martyn has plenty of opportunities to air his grievance. He's picked it up before in songs about a mother driven to prostitution to feed her children, or a pretty young girl forced to parade herself in the boxing ring between rounds.

'The Fading of Light' is a song of stunning imagery, beginning with a mobile phone image of a roadside bomb that kills soldiers – a frozen hand-held Cenotaph, as the song says. This is one that Martyn has written with poet Stewart Henderson and ranks as one of the best – probably the best – that he has ever recorded.

There is equal condemnation in 'Nobody Loves You Anymore' – written for a politician who has left or is leaving the stage (you supply the face) – as the acid drips from the guitar strings.

But it's not just anger. At the heart of what drives this passionate Welshman is a deep Christian faith that believes in justice for the little guy; hope and kindness winning through over terror; good people staying the course and rescuing those who fall.

The title track, 'Vegas', is one of his story songs: this time about a taxi driver who makes the move to the city of slot machines to live out his last days among friends.

For those of you who don't believe an album is truly Christian unless the Bible is quoted every other line then you'll have to listen closely. Believe me, it's there – but you'll have to pay close attention.

I'm always pleased that we don't do that cheesy stuff of awarding stars to albums: you know, on a scale of 1 to 5. If we did, however, what would we award 'Vegas', by Martyn Joseph? Probably about seven, I reckon.