Every week in Second Listen, Frank Macarthy looks back at lesser-loved albums from well-loved bands’ discographies.

Ding Dong
“Hello, my name is Elder Price.
And I would like to share with you
The most amazing book.”

I have something to admit. This might be hard to hear. Are you sitting down? Good. I’m cheating on you. This week’s album never received negative reviews of any kind. In fact, it won the Grammy for Best Musical Theater Album in 2011 (not to mention the nine other Tony Award victories). But, you’re already here, so you might as well sit down, shut up, and listen. Well, read.

After conquering animated television (South Park), live-action films (BASEketball), animated films (South Park: Bigger, Longer, and Uncut), musical films (Cannibal! The Musical), and even live-action puppet films (Team America: World Police), Matt Stone and Trey Parker decided that they needed to dominate Broadway as well. With the help of Stephen Oremus (Avenue Q, Wicked), and Robert Lopez (Avenue Q, Frozen), two Broadway veterans who know what to do with a stage, The Book of Mormon was ready to offend theatregoers all over the country.

Magical fuck frogs. Female circumcision. AIDS-curing baby rape. And a phrase that translates to, “fuck you, God.” This isn’t your typical Sondheim, Lloyd Webber, or Schwartz musical (I’ve just exhausted the list of composers I know). Seriously, though, what do you expect from Matt Stone, Trey Parker, and two of the minds behind Avenue Q? The Book of Mormon is offensive, vile, and sometimes hard to laugh at (not really, though, I don’t think I’ve ever laughed as hard for as long), but like practically everything else Stone and Parker do, it has an unexpectedly sweet and seemingly basic lesson. A lesson that almost mocks its audience by being so poignant.

Like last week’s original motion picture soundtrack review, I have to admit that I know practically nothing about musicals. I’ve seen Fiddler on the Roof about a dozen times, if that counts for anything, but I tend to avoid the stage scene. Especially the singing stage scene. The Book of Mormon is a musical for people who don’t like musicals, kind of like how Game of Thrones is fantasy for people who don’t like fantasy, or Cowboy Bebop is anime for people who don’t like anime. Imagine a gathering of some of the most hoity-toity people you have ever met in a venue where the C-word is thrown around more often than at a Chelsea vs. Manchester United match. It’s quite satisfying.

This is the point, though, isn’t it? To subvert the bourgeois conventions of the musical theater scene? Parker and Stone attempted to do this with their first feature length film Cannibal! The Musical and the South Park movie, but without Broadway, their attempts only reached out to the cult following of their work. Now, with The Book of Mormon, Parker and Stone have the eyes, ears, and Tony Awards of the highly regarded, artistically centered Broadway musical culture. Yes, these are the same two guys who showed up to the Oscars high on acid and wearing dresses.

Songs such as “Turn it Off” and “Making Things Up Again” take blunt stabs at not only the Mormon religion, but religion in general (Stone and Parker aren’t picky about who they mock, everyone is invited), but their resonating message is meant to be taken as a whole, not as pieces cherry picked to showcase offensive language and behavior. Songs like “Joseph Smith American Moses” and “Tomorrow is a Latter Day,” while offensive in their own rights, promote lessons of religious, racial, cultural, and overall human acceptance. The Book of Mormon is not a statement against religious affiliation. No, the message is more basic and unexpected than that. Typical Stone and Parker.

I’d be lying to you if I told you that I didn’t listen to this album at least once a month. The catchy tunes, clever lyrics, and undeniable talent of the original cast are enough to convert even the most stubborn of musical-haters. I had the opportunity to attend the live show in Chicago, and I will never forget the event. Listening to the cast recording is one thing. Experiencing the actual musical is on a whole different level. This might very well be the best work that Stone and Parker have produced. And that’s saying a lot coming from me. I’ve followed Parker and Stone’s work from Jesus vs. Frosty, to DVDA, to That’s My Bush (let’s not talk about that one), and beyond. Their penchant for exploiting the common sense response to a serious and often controversial situation (see “Best Friends Forever,” the infamous Terri Schiavo episode of South Park) proves their worth beyond the “controversial to make money” perspective that many contemporary artists have embraced (Human Centipede, Hostel, anything after the first Saw – the list is endless).

I’m excited to see The Book of Mormon placed beside the musical accomplishments of the past several decades. Students will study the success in theater history courses. Reproductions will begin pop-up all over the world. Stone and Parker have left an unquestionable, seemingly eternal stamp on the musical theater world. And all I have to say is: hasa diga ebowai.