We should always know that we can do anything

It is getting hot here by the Chesapeake Bay.  The one thing I may never get used to around here is the amount of humidity we deal with on a regular basis in the summer.  Just too sticky of a climate for me, I think.  Good thing I don't live any further (or is that farther?) south.

So anyway, getting to the musical point of the post, I love how songs and weather can play off of each other and enhance the listening experience.  I can even manage to get a smile on my face with the sun out, the windows down, and the right song coming through my speakers on the way into work in the morning.  A song that keeps popping up on my random playlist of everything I can think to include is "Go Do" off of the recent solo effort "Go" by Sigur Ros frontman, Jonsi.  Its no secret that Sigur Ros is a favorite of mine even if some of my friends and old roommates weren't too keen on their sound.  While Sigur Ros's music has this kind of epic, contemplative, dreamlike feel to it, Jonsi's solo work is all exuberance, hope, and sunshine.

"Go Do" is a perfect example of the kind of music that can take a hot, sunny day and just shine it up a bit more.  If you're a pure cynic, I don't know if Jonsi is for you.  There is just way too much hope that shines through the songs on "Go".  On "Go Do", I'm personally drawn to the Baba O'Reily-esque manic chaos of the music that Jonsi's voice soars over.  See for yourself.  Here's 2 versions of the song (one with full band and one as a duo with a peacock strutting around the stage...did I mention Jonsi is a crazy person?  Of course that makes me like his music even more).

Jonsi - Go Do:

Tracking down "So Runs the World Away" and Josh Ritter's continued brilliance

Today brings what will probably go down as my most anticipated album of the year.  The new effort from Josh Ritter, "So Runs the World Away," hit the shelves and I escaped my office to go track it down over lunch.  I learned a few things during my little lunchtime adventure: Best Buy hates Josh Ritter, Borders wins the award for store of the day, and Annapolis really needs a decent music store.  Anyway, I ended my adventure with a copy of the album in hand and I was soon richly rewarded for my struggles.

In short, Josh Ritter continues to be fantastic.  I've listened to the new album thrice already and will probably leave it in my car for at least the rest of the summer.

I first came across Ritter's music via a download of a handful of live tracks from a performance in Berlin (or some other European city I haven't been to).  I think I listened to "Girl in the War" about 20teen times that day (of course 20teen is a number...it means "a lot").  Soon after, I made my way to City Lights Records and got my hands on a copy of "The Animal Years" while noting that Greg already had the album poster mounted proudly to one of the few bare spots left on the store walls.  To this day, "The Animal Years" remains one of my favorite and most revisitable albums.

Shortly after my wife and I moved to Annpolis, we bought tickets to see Josh Ritter play at not-too-far-away the Birchmere in Alexandria, VA.  I think we can both agree that it was one of the best concert experiences of our lives.  Ritter's backing band was nothing more than a side table with a lamp and a water bottle on it.  He took the stage in his best Mark Twainesque white suit and proceeded to own the room for what could have been 2 hours or 2 years.  He really was that good.  There was a moment during that set that I think solidified his place in my just now made up Pantheon of songwriters.  He started into an - as of then - unreleased song, "The Temptation of Adam," with the audience eating up every word of his witty and literate storytelling (I believe every great singer/songwriter is just a storyteller that needed something to do with their hands and managed to find a suitable instrument) and then hit us with the WWIII line (see/hear below).  I'm not doing the experience justice with my meandering description here, but it was just a galvanizing moment in the crowd.  Not so much that it was a funny line that we all "got," but that we were all witnessing something truly unique and special and mostly unknown.  Sadly, Josh Ritter still seems mostly unknown, as shown by the fact that the store that is supposed to have new albums for sale every Tuesday seems to hat him (no Josh Ritter tab at all in the 'R' section and only 1 lonely copy of "The Historical Conquests of Josh Ritter" to show that the artist even exists).  I guess I'll really see how well known he has become in the years since I last saw him live, as my wife and I are catching him again this weekend in DC.  I may be setting the bar too high, but if the continued quality of his albums are any indication, the show should be a happy repeat of that last concert, but with a full band to complement Josh, instead of just a little table.

I could write for days about how much I enjoy Josh Ritter's music, but I'll just leave you with my current favorite of his, a little missle silo love story that I mentioned above.

M. Ward is too cool for school

Don't believe me?  I have proof:

She & Him - In The Sun from Merge Records on Vimeo.

The sun is out, but it's supposed to rain soon, so I'm enjoying it while it lasts with some new She & Him.  My wife and I just got the new album ("Volume Two") last Friday and "In the Sun" jumped out immediately as an early favorite.  My short opinion on She & Him: I like them.  The music is familiar and fresh at the same time, and just the right amount of sweet.  It makes me smile and somtimes that's all a band needs to do.

One more for the road: "Thieves" live on Kimmel

Getting back to normalcy

On this day of reckoning, I'm back to inject some life into Seabass Says.  Though it is Tax Day, it is also my last day of preparation for my big day long exam tomorrow.  I'm off from work, putting my suitcase full of reference material together, and trying to relax and fend off the stress.  As I'm transitioning from full on study mode back to normalcy, I'm cleaning up the stack of CDs I've amassed over the last couple weeks of reading and problem solving.  So I guess I'll just go ahead and recommend the whole stack for anyone in need of some good relaxing background music to study by, or just pass some time with.

In no particular order, here are my study albums:
Oren Lavie - The Opposite Side of the Sea
The Beta Band - Hot Shots II
Mogwai - The Hawk is Howling
Sigur Ros - með suð í eyrum við spilum endalaust
Iron and Wine - Around the Well
Beth Orton - Pass in Time
The Shins - Chutes Too Narrow
The Postal Service - Give Up
Iron and Wine - Our Endless Numbered Days
Norah Jones - The Fall
Olafur Arnalds - Found Songs
Nick Drake - Way To Blue (An Introduction to Nick Drake)
Eastmountainsouth - Eastmountainsouth
Yo La Tengo - Prisoners of Love
Badly Drawn Boy - About a Boy Soundtrack
Son Volt - Okemah and the Melody of Riot
Duncan Sheik - White Limousine
Sufjan Stevens - Illinois

Bringing two of my study music providers together (from a show I missed about a year ago) is The Shins covering the Beta Band...enjoy.

The Shins - Dry the Rain

I just can't find the time to write my mind the way I want it to read

While I acknowledge that there has been little to no activity here at Seabass Says lately, I do have an explaination for all 4 of you concerned citizens of the internet.  After weathering a round of layoffs at work, I'm now responsible for 2 jobs worth of work, so I don't even have lunchtime to take care of feeding rambling and YouTube links to my hungry blog.  In addition to my work time demands, I'm busy studying for a big important certification exam when I have free time at home (and if I'm not studying, I'm catching up on Tivoed shows because my brain has turned to complete mush).  The exam is in the middle of April, so I hope to post more often after that.  In the meantime, I'll try to get a few quick posts up here and there.  To further explain my plight, I turn to Messers Tweedy and Browne:

Wilco - Box Full of Letters




Jackson Browne - Running on Empty

Beautiful Blues Indeed

In bittersweet celebration of yours truly weathering the storm of layoffs that has been gathering for the last month or more, I offer the somehow perfectly fitting group of songs that played on my work computer as the fit hit the shan (I picked ridiculous videos to bookend this on purpose...I need a good dose of silly right now):

"Countdown" by Phoenix


"Caring is Creepy" by The Shins


"Adrift" by Jack Johnson


"Mr. E's Beautiful Blues" by Eels

The Lost Month of Febtober

It was the thirteenth day of the thirteenth month...

So February was a bit of a lost month here at Seabass Says.  I plan on getting back into this and picking up the pace through March.  In the meantime, I leave you with this gem (stick around at least through the 1:30 mark.  I don't really have the words in me to describe it):

I got troubles, oh, but not today

In honor of my favorite show starting its final season tonight, here's one of my favorite clips from the first season with an excellent song, "Wash Away" by Joe Purdy, backing it up (skip ahead to about the 1 minute mark for the song to start).

Turning off the Lights

What is it that makes us recommend music to each other?  What brings on this feeling that eats at you until you just have to tell someone about it?  For some, I'd guess there's some desire for affirmation.  For some, a lifelong goal to show people that they are better than the rest because they know about the most obscure band around.  For most of us, though, I think that we just feel a universal need to share great art.  Music is meant to be shared.  That's why we attend concerts, why iTunes and Pandora exist, why people like me start blogs, why record stores hold a special place in the music subculture (admit it, you love High Fidelity and Empire Records for reasons you might not entirely understand).  Sadly, we must say goodbye to one of the few independent stores left.
The end of January marks the end of an institution.  After a quarter century of sharing music with (and selling music to) the residents of State College, PA, Greg Gabbard is closing the doors of my favorite music store in all the lands.  City Lights Records (at least it it's physical, brick and mortar form) will be no more.

I've known Greg since 2000 or 2001.  I'm not sure when it was exactly that I took the trip down the stairs, under the clothing store, and into the narrow aisles of City Lights.  I'll admit, I felt a bit intimidated at first.  I imagined a scene like in High Fidelity (the movie...I can't remember if its in the book or not and I can't find it in the disorganization of my den to check) where a guy gets berated out of the store for asking for the wrong album.  I didn't want to make the wrong reference, ask about the wrong band, etc. and never be welcomed into the store again.  I learned soon that my first impression was wrong.  Greg isn't one to ostracize someone based on their taste or lack thereof.  He's happy to BS with and sell to anyone who sets foot in the store.  The obvious problem is not enough people are setting foot in the store any more.  Greg has finally given in to the economic strain of the shifting music industry.

The thing I like most about Greg and his store is that he's never come off as being in it for the money.  I don't think you could fool anyone by trying to convince them that owning an independent record store is the path to riches.  What I mean is that I've never seen him just ring someone up and get them out of the store.  He's always ready for a conversation about music.  Greg has always been good for a recommendation, a story about a recent concert, news on who's coming to play next, tickets to the next great local show, etc.  But it doesn't just end there with Greg.  Everyone can have the conversation where you just go back and forth saying "Have you heard ___?" "No, but have you heard ___?  They're awesome."  Greg always takes the time to talk about why the band is good, why you'd like it, and (if you have the time) to blast the music around the store to prove it.  Over the years, Greg has been directly responsible for my love of Sun Kil Moon, supplied me with my collection of Josh Ritter albums, and shared many enthusiastic conversations about the quality of Duncan Sheik's songwriting.  There is a joy in his voice when he starts talking about music, even in the midst of a conversation about the inevitable closing of his store, and that joy is infectious.

The last time I was in State College (toward the end of the football season), Greg broke the news to me that he had decided to close the doors.  I'd had similar conversations with him in the past, but those usually ended with him saying he'd try to hold on just a little longer.  This time, there was no back and forth.  He was done holding on and ready to move on to something new.  Greg plans to continue City Lights online and I plan on linking to it as soon as I know he's online and ready to go.  I can only hope that he continues the conversations and not just the transactions.  If not, I'm afraid we'd lose a great voice for the merit of the independent music store and the sharing of great art.  It just won't feel right walking by that storefront on College Ave. without seeing Greg's handwritten poster advertising the new releases downstairs.

Greg, thanks for the music and thanks for the memories.  I'm sorry to see the lights turn off and the door close for good, but the internet is a great place to share.  If I'm able to get something going here, surely you can, too.

Below is a short, 5 minute documentary created by a Penn State student (Matt Steck, who I've never met, but was kind enough to put his video on YouTube) for a film class that I think shows the Greg Gabbard that I've come to know and respect.  He comes off as a bit of a beaten man in this, but check out how he lights up when he reminisces about his introduction to the Beatles (about 45 seconds in) and when he talks about his favorite part of the job (about 4 minutes in).

Call the surgeon, mend the pieces

I'll try to be short and sweet due to work, kidney stones, and a big post coming later in the week.

I've lost track of how many times in the last two days that I've listened to "If You Would Come Back Home" by William Fitzsimmons.  It is just plain gorgeous.  To me, it has a bit of a Iron & Wine meets Rockwell Church kind of sound, which are both good things.  Especially the Iron & Wine-ness.  I must have a soft spot for big bearded musicians (no promises on a ZZ Top post).  It also doesn't hurt that Fitzsimmons shares a hometown with me.  I now feel obligated to listen to as much of his stuff as I can.  Us Pittsburghers have to stick together.  I guess that means he has to read my blog now.  Anyway, this is my favorite version of the song that I've seen/heard while poking around.  I especially like the out in the wilderness setting with the crickets attempting to keep the beat.

William Fitzsimmons - If You Would Come Back Home