It might not be apparent how much thought went into the Barricade music video, but the narrative is pretty deeply intertwined with the lyrics. We used very minimal resources and effects to try to illustrate a fairly layered concept, and it's about time to give that a deep dive. I especially want to take this Easter weekend to reflect on the story, since it is directly tied to the events surrounding the death of Jesus.
The video follows two people—played by our wonderful actors Alexa and Matthew—who wake up inside of a dark dungeon of sorts. They ought to be together, but some kind of wall is separating them. They each know that their counterpart is present on the other side, but the barrier is too strong and too thick for them to reach each other. After struggling to get through for most of the video, both people step back and take a more spiritual approach—closing their eyes and transcending the barrier with their minds. Once defeating something more internal, both of them re-awaken in a wide-open field, and within moments are able to properly reunite.
When I initially pitched the idea to our director, Alex of The Trenches Media, he hesitated at what seemed to him like an overly romantic storyline. This, I understood. It was part of what I was going for but I didn't want to over-sell the theological concepts and make the whole thing overly religious. Ironically, the way he took the concept of “two people trying to break through a barrier to reunited” and expressed it more subtly ended up creating, I think, a more spiritually evocative and illustrative story anyhow. The interpretive openness of it, I think, invites more opportunity for meaning.
To me, the “romantic,” for lack of a better word, dimension comes from a concept that develops throughout the Hebrew Bible and New Testament, where the relationship between God and humanity is metaphorically likened to a marriage, or a betrothal, or other various stages of a romantic relationship. This concept is explored throughout some of the Hebrew prophets, the Song of Solomon, various New Testament epistles, and even the apocalyptic visions of Revelation. I wanted to make a minimal allusion to that tradition with the visuals for this song, and I think everyone involved managed to tell that story of reunion and transcendence of separation without anything being too heavy-handed or “on-the-nose.”
I also have to give credit where it's due—our team made something incredible out of a minimal concept and resources. Brett, our longtime manager and eventual band member, has scouted out a barn not far from where he lived, and we got permission from the owner to use it. It was basically empty and barren inside, but that worked for the “dungeon” aesthetic we were going for. This is where we filmed all of our performance clips. Alex found a few panels of glass on the floor and realized they could be used to realistically simulate looking at someone through the perspective of a wall. Me and my bandmates took turns carefully holding these glass panels while the camera filmed from one side and our actors pushed and banged on the glass from the other side. I think the end result looks great—they really look like they're struggling against a physical object rather than just miming against thin air. The physicality of it all, I think, makes the final escape into the field all the more satisfying.
Lyrically, the song is from the perspective of modern people looking back at Jesus in the Garden of Gethsemane. Out with his disciples praying on the Mount of Olives, Jesus faces the prospect of his impending death, and in private prayer reveals real and deeply human fear. He dreads the prospect of being tormented and condemned to death. He asks for a way out, if it's possible. But he submits that if it is necessary and part of God's plan, then he will go through with it willingly.
I stand from my vantage point in history having benefitted in my own spiritual journey from that very sacrifice. I dare not ask him to go through with it, but being on the other side of the victory over death, I can't help but say “looks like it was worth it.” It is my own way of stepping into the reality that Hebrews 12:2 describes as “the joy that was set before him”—the reconciliation between God and humanity that motivated Jesus to go through with the crucifixion. The moment where Jesus himself mentally transcended the barrier before him—torture, humiliation, death by crucifixion, and the doors of the underworld itself—and accepted that the only way out was through.
Terror stands between you
And the place you want to be
Looming dark, consuming everything
The pain you know you must endure
Is all your eyes can see
All your dreams demanding you to bleed
The fear I'm imagining and describing in the first verse is meant to mirror both what Jesus faced at that critical moment, as well as the kinds of struggles the average person faces day-to-day. We all face moments of decision, moments of crisis, where the path ahead looks impossible, and the road towards a dream or a goal seems to be laden with so much pain and suffering that it would simply not be worth the trouble.
To both the average person today, perhaps even myself, and to the Jesus I see agonizing in the garden on the cusp of redeeming humanity, the chorus comes to encourage perseverance:
Never turn away
You can break the barricade
Finding life, alive again
In the cosmic drama of redemption, death is not the final word but a pathway through to new life. Jesus is swallowed up by death only to burst forth from the inside, ripping a hole in the gates of the underworld in the process and flipping in reverse the trajectory of mortal human nature in the process. The agony and death required to achieve the dream gives way to new life.
The second verse is a huge musical departure from the first, flipping moment by moment in and out of A major instead of the minor key that takes up most of the song. The fast pace drops into a halftime breakdown. And lyrically, I move away from the parallel between Christ and the average person and focus on the contrast: all the ways in which Jesus transcends basic human struggle and becomes the foundation for all acts of overcoming. I allude to the mystery of the resurrection—the “enigma," as I call it in the song—of life coming out of death, and the uniqueness of what Jesus accomplishes when compared to the rest of humanity's struggles.
Now, become life
As you rise on the enigma
We are all deranged inside
Waiting for our dead hearts to rise
But you can be brave
As your body breaks the barricade
Pay the price
‘Till your sacrifice is life
The barricade, it blocks the way
There is no way around
But now you’re driving death into the ground
The line “now you're driving death into the ground” is one that I know rings a little strange and I had a few people playfully question it while we were working towards developing the ideas for the video. Not outright criticism, just “hey that's kind of a weird line.” I'll grant that. But it's quite literal in terms of what the story of the song is referring to—Jesus dies and is buried in the ground, literally dragging death into death via death. And then, in spite of death, becoming a new source of life. Breaking “the barricade” and leading the way through as “firstborn of the dead” (Colossians 1:18).
Ever since the release of this song, it has become a staple in our live set. Not a show has gone by since 2016 where we haven't included Barricade somewhere in the setlist. In that time, the song has only taken on more meaning for me as I've faced my own share of personal challenges. I can only hope that others continue to find something inspiring in this song as well.
Whatever journey of faith and self-discovery you're on, may you break the barricades in your life.
-Maxwell Kozen
Barricade (2016)
Maxwell Kozen – Vocals, Guitar
Jericho Leal – Guitar
Sid Harris – Keys, Synth
Jonathan Aristide – Bass
Jared Leal – Drums
Produced & Mixed by Justin Meli
Mastered by Phil Demetro @ The Lacquer Channel
Video Directed by Alex McFarland (The Trenches Media Inc.)
Actors: Alexa Michaels & Matthew Layne
Single artwork by Brett Santacona