There is something inherently Texan about Timothy Bishop SJ. Be it his black roping boots or his black Wranglers, Timothy exudes Southern hospitality.
Maybe it is our Rockhurst High School connection, maybe it is his being a Jesuit, but Timothy Bishop is unique.
He might say this is due to his overly strict posture or overt awareness of his body in reference to those around him, but Bishop SJ fills a room: just not in the way you assume a songwriter, producer, and signer would.
Having listened to Bishop SJ, I knew I needed to hone in on just how this Jesuit Scholastic from Independence, Missouri found himself making music with lyrics profound enough to make you seriously contemplate your relationship with Christ whilst still possessing a sound that likens itself to that of hip-hop, pop, and R&B we are accustomed to.
After 9 hours, 3 recorded songs, and 1 podcast, I returned home on November 22, 2023 around 11:00 pm with an answer.
Previous to the day, Timothy and I had mentioned hosting an interview, maybe a podcast, so I could get that glimpse into how he does what he does. When I arrived to Strake Jesuit's Jesuit Residence around 1:30 pm, I honestly was not sure what the day would hold.
Removed from my desires, after finding myself convinced by students to write a UK Drill rap song about ferrets and crows, and involving Timothy in the project, Timothy mentioned actually recording it.
So two guys who had known each other for less than 3 months were going to record a podcast and a song: I had month long plans with my significant others fall through, let alone something this unheard of.
With pleasantries exchanged, unsure what Timothy's expectation was, much to my shock, freshly opened Topo Chico in hand, I was holding a mic-cord and 2 pairs of headphones as Timothy walked ever so carefully with a $700 microphone.
A Jesuit scholastic, teacher, coach, and musician, Timothy Bishop wears many hats, yet his hats never seem to be the focus.
I have shared various meals with Timothy, and though he will carry on in deep laughter with other co-workers, he remains focused on interacting with others in a way that allows them to know they are loved. His jokes, his attention, his focus, his excitement, it is all focused on you. Only in interviewing Bishop SJ for a podcast did Timothy find himself as the focal point of conversation.
I should not have been surprised Timothy was willing to spend his entire Thanksgiving Eve focused on my podcast and song: that has always been Timothy.
Yet, as I wore his 10-year-old headphones, the exposed sponge on my ear, hours of work and a vow of poverty on full display, I was reminded of this fact.
For a man sitting on over 25 complete songs with many more snippets still to be developed, he keeps it all close. He could easily fill a conversation with his vast knowledge of songs, artists, genres, let alone his own music, but he does not.
Let me tell you though: he is sitting on some GAS.
We began the day by sifting through some recently finished, only needing minor touches, projects. Songs that made my face melt off with just how good they were: think Indiana Jones and the Raiders of the Lost Ark or three scoops of your hardest pre-workout. Hard and fast. Soft and slow. We listened to his own songs, his collaborations, and projects he is working on for his family: it was all a window to see Timothy.
The cliché is true: there is nothing better than seeing someone doing what they love. The emotion. The dancing along. The closed eyes as he tried to recite songs from memory.
Timothy could easily fill a room by himself.
We eventually moved to recording a podcast. Though I will remain pretty mum on the details until JBJTalks officially launches, what an incredible insight into who Bishop SJ is. A deeply considerate, truly loving man, Timothy says it clearly:
My purpose is to let them know they are loved.
We wrapped up the podcast and turned the mic on me to record my UK, Top Boy-esque, Drill Rap. Let me say, I see why people love this. Having the headphones on, the world is shut off for brief moments as you are focused solely on trying to re present the sounds you stumbled upon in your writing process. It's a rush. Though no one sees you, your body moves involuntarily to emphasize words you say. You step into the persona that lay dormant waiting for this moment.
As we wrapped up what I assumed would be the end of the day, Timothy showed me his music making process.
From finding the right guitar loop and building the drum kit, to picking the right nursery rhyme to find his rhythm, before I could really process all I was taking in, 1.5 hours had passed, and we had created a 1975 type LANY-ish pop song.
It was fun. It was exciting. It was incredibly vulnerable.
I am not sure how many of you know this, but you cannot hide when you record a song: the pop filter, the $700 mic, they catch everything.
If that was not enough, you can't really write a song about something you do not know. So not only are you standing naked to be heard, you are talking about personal emotions and experiences while you do so. It is a very debilitating feeling until you lean into it.
Pushed by Bishop SJ to be over the top and to really go for it, the awkwardness soon passed as I closed my eyes and let the words go. It was a feeling not even being in musicals prepared me for: it gives me so much respect for our favorite artists who write songs that get us through tough times. I can't imagine how exposed they feel.
Imagine the fear involved with penning lyrics about your deepest moments, unsure how they are to be received, unsure if anyone will relate, unsure if you will only face intensifying feelings when people reject your art.
There are people who stand in front of us and let it all go. People who allow their story to be played on repeat.
People whose true feelings may be lost on the listener, yet they still find a way to share with us.
Art is beautiful.
Music is beautiful.
With the second song recorded, the night seemed to be over once again, but with the addition of a second Jesuit who would be leaving Houston in the coming days, we layered in a live guitar and more vocals to finish the product.
I am not sure when it happened, but we soon found ourselves with YouTube randomly playing one rap-beat after another. From mac and cheese to pizza, debt to the banks, we journeyed through the analogues of YouTube's beats the likes of Travis Scott, Juice WRLD, and Kanye West.
It was wild: not in the “oh word, that's crazy” but in the “this energy is uncontrollable”.
Though I deeply wish these moments had been recorded, there was a beauty to all attention, all energy, all mental capacity, focused on trying to anticipate the rhythm of the beat and while we rhymed words with some semblance of a point.
Tears cascaded down my face at points as I clutched my stomach, gasping for air.
That is the thing about art, it can only truly be a beautiful piece if you give it your full attention: recall, there is no such thing as work-life balance. When art calls, you have to be present to it.
The freestyling continued, mac and cheese becoming the focus as Timothy and I were to be pitted against each other and one other co-worker the next day for Thanksgiving Dinner.
It had been roughly 7.5 hours since I had arrived, and aside from a Topo Chico and Lacroix, Timothy and I had not eaten. Under the recommendation of Reid, the Jesuit preparing to leave, we ran to Hotline Burger, an unsuspecting, yet quite good smash-burger joint right on Belliare: we didn't run, we drove.
Burgers and fries devoured, suddenly I was screaming about Mac and Cheese being “all up on yo plate” while Timothy let the listener's know if you “don't tolerate no lac-toss, then get lost”. As Timothy, Reid, and myself in unison kept repeating “scoop sum mo” the night seemed to come to a complete circle.
After 9 hours with Bishop SJ, a day focused on him, his music, and getting word out on an artist who you should support, the night ended with Bishop SJ not the focus: he had created a space for me, for Reid, for all of us to exist. He welcomed us into his area, his world of creating art, gave us the tools, provided us the support, and let us run. Never critiquing, never trying to flex his musical muscle, only encouraging and pushing us to dive into the art making process that is so near and dear to his own heart.
Timothy Bishop SJ may not be in Texas forever, but for the time he is, Wranglers, roping boots, and all, if you get the chance, be sure to get to know him.
If you do not get the chance, or even if you do, be sure to support him on Spotify and Apple Music. Though he may make profit from the streams, a hot topic I touched on in my last post, it is his goal to use any and all funds to create programs to reinvest into youth programs that give underprivileged, lesser served, students the opportunity to encounter music. To encounter the laughter and joy I experienced making music. To find a way to express their experiences and connect with those who share the same.
To fulfill his purpose: to let them know they are loved.
You will be able to hear more about this desire of Timothy's as well as his outlook on life, music, basketball, purpose, Drake, family, and much more when the first podcast of JBJTalks launches.
Be sure you are subscribed to JBJWrites to be the first to know when you can listen to the full conversation with Timothy Bishop SJ aka Bishop SJ.
Until then, here is a brief teaser from our conversation!
HI! I am not sure if you are here from an email, my Instagram, Medium, LinkedIn, or something else entirely, but I am appreciative of the fact you made it to the end! If you found something worthwhile, don't be stingy, share the wealth! If you are not getting emailed each time I publish a new post, be sure to click the Mailing List Button: I do not post everything to other outlets.
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