Masquerade started out as a kind of Christian battle song in the form of a fusion of rock, neo-Renaissance and Greek traditional styles. Typically eclectic and very 'me'. The lyrics were my take on the Biblical statement that "Satan masquerades as an angel of light". Subsequently it evolved into a political protest song, because I was and remain totally opposed to anything but the truth and I despise politicians - leaders especially - who tell lies, simplify messages in a way that distorts understanding or take advantage of people's prejudices. It's best sung by a soloist in rock style, possibly with a small group of backing vocalists. You'll need fuzzed-up 5-string bass guitar, a distorted Hammond organ and two electro-bouzoukis to achieve the full effect!
The political perspective, in a video that pulls no punches. While it's an AI voice (Solaria by Eclipsed Sounds LLC) it does recreate a wonderful improvisation on my original melody, of which I approve absolutely. The AI vocals are pretty impressive.
An honest person has nothing to fear from the truth. Yet we live in an age where politicians seem hell-bent on telling anything except the truth. So as mentioned above this song exists in two forms, to suit different audiences.
                        We believe in the promise of our God
                        That in Christ and Christ alone
                        We can come before His throne.
                        We believe that in Him our feet are shod
                        With the readiness to go
                        And let everybody know
                        That in Christ alone can all be truly free.
                        So give him all the glory, claim His victory:
                     
Keep our eyes on the Saviour, trust in Him for what's right,
                        Believe that He'll equip us to stand in His might;
                        Take the Sword of the Spirit, arm ourselves for the fight,
                        For Satan masquerades as an angel of light.
                     
                        When he's hunting you won't hear Satan roar.
                        Does a lion on the prowl
                        Warn his breakfast with a growl?
                        Best believe Satan knows you to the core.
                        Every prejudice he'll use
                        To persuade you of his ruse:
                        Oh so godly, oh so righteous he can seem,
                        You wouldn't even know you're dancing to his theme:
                     
Keep your eyes on the Saviour, trust in Him for what's right,
                        Believe that He'll equip you to stand in His might;
                        Take the Sword of the Spirit, arm yourself for the fight,
                        For Satan masquerades as an angel of light.
                     
                        He will tell you that you can have it all
                        That the apple on the tree
                        Is just there for you and me
                        All he wants is to set up for the fall
                        All the people who believe
                        That their leaders don't deceive
                        He's so wealthy you just smile at all his quirks
                        But see the true fiend in his supercilious smirks
                     
He's the king of the liars, he's the death of all good
                        He treats you just as if your head were made out of wood
                        He makes all seem so simple you're convinced that he's right
                        That's Satan masquerading as an angel of light
                     
                        So beguiling you'll never hear him roar
                        Does the lion on the prowl
                        Scare his dinner with a growl?
                        Can't you see that he knows you to the core?
                        Every prejudice of yours
                        Is just leverage for his cause
                        When he's purring so alluring he can be
                        That nobody can see it's just a fantasy
                     
He's the king of the liars, he's the death of what's good
                        He treats you just as if your head were made out of wood
                        He makes all seem so simple you're convinced that he's right
                        So guess who's masquerading as that angel of light!
                     
He's the king of liars, death to what's good
                        He treats you just as if your head were made of wood
                        Everything's so simple you're convinced that he's right
                        With Satan masquerading as that angel of light
                     
He's the king of the liars and he's death to what's good
                        And La La Land is where it's at, for heads made of wood
                        It's where lies are so lovely you're convinced they're alright
                        Old Satan's masquerading as an angel of light.
                     
Satan masquerades as an angel of light - and you'd better believe it. It's why we are urged to exercise discernment. Some lies are manifestly obvious, others less so, but they can be made to sound very beguiling: and then time and time again in life I see people responding to the lie as if it is God's given truth. It seemed to me that all too few people are able to discern truth from lie, particularly when the lie reinforces their subconscious prejudices and preconceptions. In March 2014 I found myself playing keyboard alongside a particularly talented drummer (JJ). He asked me if I had ever tried to compose something in rock idiom. The more I thought about it, the more convinced I became that a rock idiom was the one for Masquerade. I was attracted to the idea of a rock band playing quasi-Elizabethan chord sequences, backed by a couple of electro-bouzoukis in order to give the music a slightly Greek feel. The music is almost impossible to pin down in terms of style and yet it works. Perhaps the whole thing is itself a masquerade, which would be the supreme irony.