The Untold Story Behind Richard Smallwood’s “Total Praise”: Born in Darkness, Became a Gospel Anthem

By the mid-1990s, gospel music was evolving with larger choirs and polished arrangements, yet something vital was missing: a natural bridge between classical musical structure and raw spiritual expression.

Smallwood, raised in Washington, D.C., steeped in both symphonic music and black gospel traditions, was uniquely positioned to fill that gap.

“Total Praise” began not as a grand plan but during a time when Smallwood was emotionally and physically drained.

In 1995, he was caring for his mother with dementia while supporting a seriously ill family friend.

Initially, the melody leaned toward a sorrowful, introspective tone—a “pity party” song reflecting his struggles.

But the music itself resisted that path, insisting instead on praise.

This tension between exhaustion and praise is the heart of the song’s power.

Musically restrained and deliberate, “Total Praise” avoids dramatic tempo shifts or vocal theatrics.

Instead, it unfolds with architectural precision, drawing inspiration from Psalm 121, emphasizing reliance and strength rather than escape.

The lyrics are simple and direct: “You are the source of my strength, You are the strength of my life.

” This intentional simplicity allows the song to create intensity through trust—in harmony, pacing, and the listener’s patience.

The extended “Amen” at the end, layered through multiple vocal tracks recorded by Smallwood himself, gathers energy inward rather than exploding outward, making the song adaptable to many contexts.

When first introduced, “Total Praise” transformed rehearsal atmospheres and soundchecks, compelling musicians and singers to pause and absorb its depth.

Its growth was organic, spreading slowly through churches and communities.

Over time, it transcended language and culture, performed in Norwegian, Samoan, Italian, Russian, Hebrew, Japanese, German, and French.

Major artists embraced it not as a trend but as a grounding moment—Destiny’s Child incorporated its “Amen” into a gospel medley, Fred Hammond reimagined it, and it was performed at Carnegie Hall and on the White House lawn.

The song became a staple at memorials and celebrations where dignity and unity were paramount.

“Total Praise” quietly rejected the gospel music divide between tradition and innovation, emotion and structure, church and concert hall.

It proved that gospel could be both intellectually disciplined and spiritually vulnerable, setting a new standard for modern gospel choirs.

Remarkably, the song has aged gracefully, avoiding the fate of era-specific hits.

Its timeless arrangement, universal lyrics, and emotional arc rooted in human experience keep it relevant and necessary for new generations.

Smallwood described his music as an extension of personal experience—reflective, not confessional—born from struggle and healing.

“Total Praise” acknowledges hardship without centering it, offering trust, release, and stillness that resonate across belief systems.

The song’s legacy is communal; audiences and choirs intuitively know when to lean in and when to hold back.

It invites humility, elevating moments rather than performers, making it a powerful choice for occasions demanding shared reflection.

“Total Praise” changed gospel music not through spectacle but through patience, structure, and sincerity.

It taught that meaningful music doesn’t need to shout to be heard; it simply needs to trust its audience.

Richard Smallwood once said you never know where a piece of music will go.

“Total Praise” answered that uncertainty by becoming a universal language of faith and grounding, a beacon born from darkness that continues to inspire light.