Free Honestly: My Life and Stryper Revealed by Michael Sweet, Dave Rose, Doug Van Pelt Page A

“y” because it rhymed with “hyper.” Hmmm, sounds a little all too familiar. Stryker’s logo even looks a lot like the Stryper logo. It wasn’t until after we hit it pretty big that Stryker released their first national album having changed their named to Stryken— so that made them look like the copycats although if the stories are true, it just may have been the other way around.
    I did always wonder why they changed their name from Stryker to Stryken though. You would think if a band were going to undergo a name change, partially because your name sounds like another band, then you’d make a more drastic change than one letter. Who knows?
    The name, the colors, the outfits, it’s a bit of a tender spot with me.
    For almost 30 years, whether in a hardware store, a grocery store, a book store or wherever, some form of the following conversation has haunted me.
    “You look like you’re in a band.”
    “I am.”
    “What band?”
    “A band called Stryper.”
    “Hmmmm. I’m sorry. I’m not familiar with you guys,” they say with apologetic overtones.
    “No worries. I don’t expect you to be.”
    “Would I know any of your songs?” they say, hopeful to redeem themselves, or at least to make the already uncomfortable conversation a little more comfortable.
    “Maybe. We had a few songs you might know. ‘Honestly’. ‘Calling On You’. ‘To Hell With The Devil’. ‘Always There For You’.” I don’t expect them to recognize any of these. Continuing the list would only prolong our mutual embarrassment.
    “Hmmmm. Doesn’t ring a bell, but I’d probably know them if I heard them.” Ha! Or then again, probably not.
    I take one last stab at it, more for their sake than for mine, and say “We wore yellow and black outfits.”
    “Oh yeah,” I do remember you guys. The yellow and black band. Yeah. Wow. That’s cool! That’s REALLY cool!”
    “Not really,” I think in my head. You have basically just told me that you don’t know our band or our music, but you do know that we dressed like bumblebees.
    Oh well. We could have done the yellow and black thing in a much cooler way. It was just so over the top that it opened the door for mockery at times. I feel as though it diluted the legitimacy of the band. Had I been more outspoken about it in my younger years, I think we could have found a way to have an image that wasn’t so gimmicky. Elements of yellow and black stripes here and there could have still given us a visual edge without making us look like, well you know—bumblebees.
    To me, bands that use visual gimmicks do so because they don’t often have the music to back it up. I believe that we did and do have the music to back it up, and as a result, I always found myself fighting against our image.
    I feel we have something incredibly unique without all the bumblebee crap. Oz, Tim, and I sing well together creating some unique and impressive harmonies. Our songs. Our message. Our harmony guitar solos. Rob’s drumming. All of that sometimes takes a back seat, or isn’t taken seriously, and to me that’s very unfortunate.
    It’s depressing to pour the very core of my heart and soul into writing a song or an album, only to read discussions, often jokes, about our attire. So much time, thought, and effort go into the music and the production. It’s not 3-chord rock. Some of it is pretty intricate stuff. And to work so hard on something, musically, vocally, and lyrically, only to be overshadowed by the look—well, it’s frustrating to say the least. We didn’t need a gimmick, but we got one any way.
    I’d like to be remembered for our message and music. Had we just toned down the yellow and black, even just a little bit, our legacy might hold a little more legitimacy.
    From the moment the yellow and black stripes extended beyond the drum set, I have always encouraged toning it down, but it wasn’t until the Against The Law album that I put my foot down. Rob seemed to resist the color