I first heard Pedro the Lion’s Whole EP courtesy of a mixtape from my friend Elaine, and though I liked it well enough — especially the song “Lullaby” — it did nothing to prepare me for what I experienced on July 2, 1998, at the Cornerstone festival. My friends and I had gathered at the stage primarily to see Damien Jurado, who had released the excellent Waters Ave S. the year before, and Pedro the Lion was opening.

Within just two or three songs, though, David Bazan had me in tears as he played songs from his debut album, It’s Hard to Find a Friend. And looking around, I was far from the only one who was openly weeping. Bazan’s humble delivery, plainspoken-yet-profound lyrics, and unassuming indie-rock à la Bedhead was instantly captivating, and his honest declarations of faith and doubt — as heard on songs like “The Longer I Lay Here,” “The Bells,” and especially “Secret of the Easy Yoke” — hit me as hard as any songs ever have.

Throughout the album, Bazan displays an uncanny ability to perfectly capture and convey my own experiences as a Christian prone to skepticism, a Christian whose faith often seemed composed more of doubt than anything else. Thus, when he sang “Could someone please tell me the story/Of sinners ransomed from the fall/I still have never seen you/And some days I don’t love you at all,” he gave voice to something deep inside that I’d never been able to fully express on my own.

Indeed, that song became something of an anthem for me and my friends. (I can still recall seeing a printout of the song’s lyrics hanging on the wall of my friend George’s bedroom.) And in the months that followed Cornerstone, It’s Hard to Find a Friend became a near-constant companion, its twelve songs providing comfort and solace even as I felt overwhelmed by doubt and unbelief.