Ear to the Ground: Schuyler Fisk

I admit I’m a sucker for a good acoustic song. But these days, there are so many of these artists that they all start to sound the same and it’s hard to find someone whose music is extraordinary enough that I’ll listen all the way through the CD.

I don’t exactly remember how I fell into the lap of Schuyler Fisk’s music. It was somewhere in between stalking her IMDb page after watching her in the mediocre 1995 film The Babysitters’ Club Movie and hearing that my friend was a fan of hers. I knew she was the daughter of Sissy Spacek, and that she [Fisk] was a decent singer. It wasn’t until I took the leap and downloaded her album The Good Stuff (which, not to mention, climbed to #1 on the iTunes Folk Charts earlier this year) that I fell in love with folk music all over again.

The Good Stuff is composed of very smooth, easy songs. Fisk does not take any liberal risks with the songs, yet this is what makes the album worth listening to. I might even (tritely) compare it to hanging out with your best friend; it’s comfortable, safe, and doesn’t get old. It seems to match any mood I’m in, which, I’ve discovered, is a rarity in the musical world. The lyrics sound like something a typical teenage girl would scribble down to get out her feelings, and it is for this reason that I found Fisk so relatable and her music so enjoyable.

While I recommend giving The Good Stuff a chance and listening to every song, there are some standout tracks. Two of my favorites are “From Where I’m Standing”, which was featured in the recent movie I Am Reed Fish, and “Hello” which features Fisk’s wispy voice and simple lyrics: “You know what they say /You can’t have it so you want it back /I’m way past that /Believe me /If you could be in my life/Like you’ve been on my mind /It’d be so easy.” Additionally, the title song and “You’re Happening to Me” bring in folksy beats which I could easily put on repeat while driving with the windows down.

Schuyler Fisk’s The Good Stuff already has a place on my favorite albums of this year, and it’s pretty close to the top. I know it’ll be a soundtrack for my summer because Fisk’s sound seems to embody my perfect summer evening—the sun going down and a cool breeze blowing by while I’m spending time with a few of my closest friends.

 

Hoosier troubadour Otis Gibbs releases new album

There are those who aspire to be folksy, touting their woolen sweaters and acoustic ’59 Martins and Decemberists albums. And then there are those who are truly, without a doubt, living breathing reincarnations of the folk heroes of previous generations. Otis Gibbs is the latter of these two. Some people refer to him as a folk artist, but that’s a simplistic way to describe a man who, according to his own biography, “has planted over 7000 trees, slept in hobo jungles, walked with nomadic shepherds in the Carpathian Mountains, been strip-searched by dirty cops in Detroit, and acquired an FBI file.”

After discovering writers like Edward Abbey and Henry Miller, Gibbs dropped out of high school, disenchanted and let down by the education system. Over the next four years, he earned and lived off less than $3000 a year. Sharing apartments with up to ten “musicians, artists, and radicals,” Gibbs abandoned the comforts many of us take for granted in order to lead a creative life. With hundreds of songs written and stored away, Gibbs spent the next few years touring and releasing four notable indie records.

In 2004, his critically acclaimed One Day Our Whispers was released. Included on this album is “The People’s Day”, which earned Gibbs a spot in a Wall Street Journal list compiled by Billy Bragg (a noted folk musician who has collaborated with R.E.M. and Wilco) of the “Top Five Songs with Something to Say”, placing Gibbs with the likes of Bob Dylan, The Clash, Sam Cooke, and Chuck Berry.

Gibbs’ latest release, Grandpa Walked a Picketline, was just released earlier this month. This album features insightfully compassionate lyrics, embracing the lives of everyday folks, not always the desperate or destitute, but the overlooked and underappreciated. “Caroline”, a particularly illustrious track, speaks of a woman (or girl, rather) who marries too young and leaves her family to search for “a little piece of mind.” Gibbs gets impressively Dylan-esque in “Preacher Steve”, a thunderous ballad about a charlatan who traveled “town to town sellin’ snake oil religion.”

Gibbs’ voice is a pack of Camels away from Tom Waits-ism, and his deft guitar playing, though not particularly notable, is controlled, skilled, and ideally complementary to his husky growl. Slide steel, fiddle, bass, and sparse harmony serve as perfect accompaniment.

It wouldn’t be a stretch to call Otis Gibbs’ songwriting prolific. There couldn’t be a better time in our nation’s history for a voice this candid and rousing.

Listen to Caroline