by David Wilikofsky
I find that certain albums or artists hit especially hard at particular times of year. An album really pops when it mirrors what’s happening around you. It’s currently fall here in New York; the leaves are changing color, there’s a chill in the air. In the back of my mind I know it’ll soon be winter, and I’ll need to go into hibernation until spring. Fall is a time of beauty tinged with sadness; I’m enjoying everything the season provides, but can’t help but remember that it’ll be fleeting. Few bands have captured these types of feelings better than Seam.
Led by Sooyoung Park (formerly of the great Bitch Magnet), the band originally formed in Chapel Hill, North Carolina in 1990 and later relocated to Chicago. They went through multiple lineup changes during their early years, with members of Bastro and Superchunk doing time in the group. When it came time to record The Problem With Me, their second full length album, they entered into the studio with wunderkind Brad Wood (who was likely recording the all-time classic Exile in Guyville around the same time). Following a disastrous tour behind The Problem With Me that saw founding member Lexi Mitchell quit the band, they would regroup with a new lineup and go on to record two more full lengths before ultimately breaking up in 2000.
I found a profile of Seam from the Chicago Tribune that must’ve been published right around the time when they went into the studio to record The Problem With Me. When describing the band, Park said “Lots of bands have a sound. I don’t think that’s necessarily bad, but we want to have songs that are ugly, pretty, loud, soft, grating and soothing. It shouldn’t be a big pastiche of sounds that don’t fit together, but we want to take the contradictions and mix them together and make them sound good.” It’s a great starting place to thinking about The Problem With Me. On the surface you might be tempted to group them with the slowcore greats; they share the same glacial pace and melancholic beauty. But the details really speak to Park’s vision. There are constant shifts in dynamics, moving from a whisper to explosively loud and back again; it’s an approach that feels more akin to grunge than anything in slowcore. The guitar textures range from abrasive buzzing to etherial shoegaze. There are moments of extreme tenderness, usually followed by howling catharsis. It could easily feel like a strange grab bag 90’s sounds in lesser hands, but the band fits the pieces together seamlessly (pun intended).
Park’s lyrics are cryptic, playing out like riddles and fever dreams. Many songs seem to be about a failing relationship. Perhaps they refer to Park’s relationship with Mitchell, whose mid-tour exit from the band coincided with their breakup, but who knows. Park’s writing is abstract enough to allow for many interpretations, and I think this is by design. Seam’s great talent isn’t telling a story, it’s capturing the intangible. These are less songs than emotions and abstract thoughts, filled with contradictions and complexities. There’s hope and sadness, grief and catharsis all swirling in these tracks. It’s a classic at any time, but it sounds particularly good right now.