It was the summer of 1992. Out of sheer high school boredom, while waiting for senior year, founder Matthew James Edwards took an odd job with True Tunes, a Chicago suburb-based music store devoted solely to music of a theological nature. Not merely “Christian Rock” in the vernacular of the day, but “Alternative Christian Music” (ACM), Christian Underground, and more mainstream Catholic bands (U2 could be found on a shelf not far from Michael W. Smith and Stryper). His job, along with occasionally helping to check out or restock, was to transcribe (and sometimes write) reviews for the more electronic-leaning music flooding in at the time. Names like Mad at the World, Code of Ethics, Dietiphobia, November Commandment, the Echoing Green, Global Wave System, Under Midnight, Mortal, and Circle of Dust were being spoken of with excitement and borderline reverence from lips of all the church-raised boys and girls whose parents didn’t approve of secular music. They’d finally found an alternative to satisfy both their yearning for current sounds and their progenitors’ expectations that lyrics be devoid of seeming immorality and ungodliness.

In school, the study of poetry had given Edwards a taste for lyrics that skewed darker. The tone matched the lyrics coming out of the ACM and Christian Underground. He listened obsessively to the entire Depeche Mode discography (along with those of New Order, the Cure, Oingo Boingo, David Bowie, the Talking Heads, Tears For Fears, Gary Numan, Industrial Godfathers Front 242 and KMFDM, and many others), which afforded him a healthy taste in electronic music, and continued to supply his mind with thought-provoking, challenging lyrical content. Defying maternal plans for his life, Edwards departed from (but didn’t abandon) his classical music background in favor of a vintage keyboard sampler with dual 5 1/4 inch floppy drives (EMU Emulator II Studio Pro). And then the owner of True Tunes, John Thompson, connected him with a young man named Luke Mazzeri.

Mazzeri was part of the explosive RAVE movement that even touched artists who sat in pews on Sundays—Scott Blackwell, the Prodigal Sons, and Mazzeri’s band Zero. Along with Max Hsu (Church of Rhythm and Superchick) and Ian Eskelin (Brand New Language), Mazzeri made a bold leap into the new “Christian Rave” genre, one that seemed on the surface to be in conflict with typical audiences. Like Edwards, Mazzeri’s stylistic leanings were darker—less bouncy, dancy, happy than the typical kandi-kid rave. He too had a borderline obsession with the sonic landscapes of Depeche Mode. He also had a Jupiter 6—but no one to write lyrics or help with melodies. Within three months, the two artists had three cassette tapes filled with sounds, melodies, loops (made the old-fashioned way), and a stack of song lyrics. But no direction. Those three months would extend quickly to 12 with no real progress. Life got busy. Demands commanded their attention—a stack of college courses for Edwards and a second baby for Mazzeri. Then, one fine Saturday, the Mrs. said, “I’ll handle the kiddos, you guys work.” And the first two singles for an as-yet unnamed project were born, INSPIRED IN YOU and STRANGER THAN FICTION. Vocals were completed for the former. Sadly, that would be the last time they saw one another, as Mazzeri’s job and career would take him out of state. And the band seemingly died without the tracks ever seeing release.

Edwards landed a job as an on-air personality for a local radio station, where he met the program manager, Josh Pyle, frontman for an experimental, noise, and industrial project called Audio Paradox. Pyle introduced him to even darker music—more aggressive industrial—and asked him to join the band. But life would get in the way (again), as Edwards transferred schools. His family moved their homestead from Chicago to Dallas—exactly five miles from Pyle’s family home. It was taken as a sign, and the two began working together. They released a three-track cassette demo in 1997, followed by a full-length album, THE INIQUITY OF TIME in 1998—along with Edwards’ first live performances. He was introduced to Pyle’s friends and fellow musicians/collaborators River Tunnell and Kane Kelly, who appeared on live sets and the studio. Chris Rosentrater would round out the live act on drums, and Audio Paradox became a full-on rock industrial band which garnered success and a strong fan base both in the Christian and non-Christian music scenes.

During a touring hiatus in 2000, Pyle noticed a restlessness in Edwards, who clearly had a Synthpop itch that industrial just couldn’t scratch. So he kindly set him up in the Audio Paradox studio, and let him explore his New Wave propensities. OUTSOURCE (as a name) was born. Tunnell would produce, and both he and Kelly would share guitar responsibilities. In 2001, GO BEYOND arrived, receiving a rather positive and robust welcome from critics and fans in the thriving Christian (and secular) electronic music renaissance. OUTSOURCE was booked as the house act at the (sadly now defunct) Red Jacket / Ruby Room in Dallas for their Red Square Retro Night every Sunday. They toured with mostly non-Christian artists, from local acts popular in the Southwest like Solemn Assembly, Provision, and Isis, to national artists including Faith Assembly, Cause & Effect, and Erasure. The second album, PROGRESS, would debut in early 2003 to more positive reviews, as well as a greater sonic maturity.

At the seeming height of their success, Edwards dissolved the band. He wouldn’t consider the project again seriously for nearly 15 years.

After a period of deep personal questioning, Edwards sat down to write some poetry and lyrics. With valuable help and contributions (as well as sound advice) from close friends and collaborators Pyle and Andrew Kelly, a new and more mature OUTSOURCE was reborn. The new album is titled PHOENIX, a message to the masses about rising again and being reborn from the traps and trials of life’s fire and ash—fires from outside, self-made fires from within.

In the very weird world in which we now live, where things are frequently on fire...

May we all rise again.