In this conundrum we Aps have found ourselves in, this bitter divide between old-school and progressive (or shall I say "stick-in-the mud, divisive, legalistic curmudgeons" and "bitter, emergent, liberal compromisers"?) one of the many scads of issues up for grabs in an attempt to define who the Real Apostolics are is music.
The more the music reminds you of them old time days, them days when C.R. Dinkleton (because all Real Apostolics have two initials before their last names) would preach up a dusty storm in the buggy heat and tarry in the brush arbor, the more likely you are to be ready when that trumpet sounds.
The more the music relies on acoustic guitar and the lyrics include silly references to Jesus as a lover and wonderful savior who kisses the earth and rains down His warm and fuzzy mercy and mushy grace and blessings, the more likely you're on your way to you-know-where in a you-know-what. Or at least on the road to compromising. And ooh, Lordy. If you're a Real Apostolic, you wouldn't want that. No siree.