Album Notes

What is it about needing to come
home to fi nd what you’re looking
for? The old adage couldn’t have
been truer for Springfi eld, Mo.
singer-songwriter Seth Truett. After
graduating from college and splitting
with his band, the young troubadour
moved to Austin, Texas, home of
all things music. But building a
band there proved harder than he
expected.
“I had a bunch of songs ready but
I couldn’t fi nd a band that I clicked
with,” says Seth. So he returned to
southwest Missouri to record his solo
debut, The Wind Is Gone, with the
legendary Lou Whitney. The Wind Is
Gone is 11 solid songs unhindered
by fads, 11 songs that remind the
listener how universal and immediate
good songs—truly good compositions,
timeless treasures in three- and fourminute
morsels—can be.
Imagine an American Noel Gallagher
with less sneer and more heart, and
you’ve just scratched the surface of
Seth Truett. “I don’t write ‘mood rock’
or songs that are ‘sadly beautiful,’” the
songwriter admits. “I like music that’s
ageless, that spans genres. A little bit
of the up-tempo rockers mixed with a
little alt-country, some edge indie-rock,
and still a sweet pop ballad or two.”
That isn’t to say Seth’s music isn’t
of-the moment; in fact, any of these
11 tunes could slip easily onto a
radio playlist tomorrow. But Seth’s
not holding his breath. “Commercial
radio is pretty awful if you’re a music
lover,” he says matter-of-factly.
“It’s a business, and the bigger the
business, the more of a least common
denominator. If you want good music,
you’re going to have to turn to college
stations or download something.”
Conveniently, a college radio
campaign is part of the promotional
plan for The Wind Is Gone, and
regional and national touring won’t
be far behind. The songs are too good
and, frankly, the live band—dubbed
Seth Truett and the Traitors—too
solid not to be shared.
“I believe people are capable of
any skill they wish to possess,”
says Seth. “In terms of challenging
myself, fi nishing this record was an
accomplishment. I also got to play a
zombie in Grindhouse; that’s got to
count for something.”
Timeless troubadour, passionate
performer, or movie monster: they’re
all right in front of you, conveniently
packaged in a standard jewel case.
Listen well.