ERIN TOBEY S/T LP/CD
CD OUT OF STOCK
Recorded and mixed over two weekends in May of 2005 by Rich Diem and Erin Tobey at Rich’s home in St. Augustine, Florida. Performed by Erin, Rich and Leonard Rutland. Erin sang, played guitar, bass, Estey air organ, ukelele and snare drum. Rich played slidey guitar and sang. Lenny sang. Erin wrote the songs. Mastered by Scott Madgett in Jacksonville. Pictured on the cover is the star Eta Carinae and its nebula. Art and layout by ET.
CD released Summer 2005
CD co-released by Plan-It-X Records
LP released Fall 2007
Erin Tobey creates songs that are sometimes beautiful, shy and fragile, while at other times are self-assured, powerful declarations on what it is to be alive. Perhaps the main focus of Erin's music is love, and the many relationships between people--lover, ex-lover, friend, etc. These are all topics which have been covered many times throughout the history of music, but which never lose their freshness, or their poignancy, since love is the thing we live for.
Erin does a great job conveying the emotion of love through well-thought lyrics, and sparse, almost ghostly instrumentation. For the most part, the recording is just a space-echoed voice, and a cleanly fingerpicked Danelectro guitar. But Erin adds many subtle touches like air organs, ukeleles, and the occasional sound of a distant, marching snare drum.
People might know of Erin from her other bands, Abe Froman and Mt. Gigantic, or perhaps from Here It Is zine. She is a very talented person in art, music, and in life. I wish the best for Erin, and I hope that everyone loves this album as much as I do.
- Lenny (Bakery Outlet)
Last week Erin and I were in the front room of the Ark talking about the awkwardness of referencing someone else's band in your own songs. I tried to be encouraging - I mean, if we can salvage useful inspiration from the trickier pop of Superchunk's later records, then go for it. Come pick me up, indeed.
It's like using the declaratory "O!" Typically such openings are reserved for antiquated poetry, replaced by the more modern and informal "Oh." But what a treacherous move - away from such forthright sentiment (and honest desires) into a puratory of irony and distance? Will we lose the power of fable and storytelling, the elemental calls of wood and water? O, tell me no. Sing me a cleaving song.
Punk (and yes I'm daring to use the word here in a postive, reclamation way) demands such interplay. I like it when the shows are so small that you know most everyone in the room. And can guess that maybe even some of the songs are about the people in said room. It requires a different kind of courage than rock's macho posturing. Like the booklist at the end of Erin's lyric sheet - what will we do with all these books we read, all these records that we know and love? What can we give back? Can we add our own voices and how will they sound? Will they resonate the same?
Here's proof - 3 Gainesville bands (Erin included) were playing in Sarasota at the liberal New College. At some all-day end-of-the-semester blowout. We got there too late for the free Thai food (we'd stopped by the beach instead). Then we got rained out from playing outside. As the typically uptight soundguy started yelling at everyone and trying to cover his precious soundboard, Erin set up in the women's bathroom and played her songs. O, the acoustics. The trembling voice and bravery. I got chills then, and listening to the songs now, the current remains.
-Travis Magoo (Obscurist Press, America? zine)