Album Notes

He's been called "a great jazz player with an amazing pop sensibility." Experienced performing virtually every style of Western music, this Oregon native is defining his own creative niche. Teaming up with two modern pop and jazz virtuosos - drummer Mark Raynes and bassist Eric Thorin - the trio draw from their shared experience in numerous musical settings to weave an evocative texture of rich ballads and refreshing pop compositions. These eight songs share a common theme of "otherness," beginning with the haunting and heartbreaking portrait of a violent, disabled teen, "Daniel," and concluding with "But for the Likes of Lynda Barry," an indigo-hued whimsy on the solace found in newspaper comics. All of these songs have their genesis in real events, but Steve's literate and intelligent lyrics transform them from mere reminiscences into moving personal journals. Some involve difficult stories, as in the title cut's universal hunger for love, or the rebuke to the harsh lessons we unwittingly teach our children in "Precious Vessels." But these thorny subjects are wrapped in tender melodies and lush harmonies - this is a beautiful work of tender melancholia, but manages to be gently inspiring. "I don't mind telling a rough story over a really uplifting musical bed," he explains, "writing something that makes your brain go, 'ouch', but your soul responds to the music like, 'oh... mommy's arms.'" Some of his many influences emerge directly from Joni Mitchell's bittersweet lyrical imagery, Mose Allison's wistful tone, the intimacy of Bill Evans' ballads and Sting's soaring vocal laments. Steve started playing piano at the age of three and his surprising breadth of musical experience comes from what he describes as, "about a zillion bands, from psychedelic garage to full-on symphonic mayhem." He has performed with such jazz luminaries as Larry Coryell, Clark Terry, Sonny Stitt, Bud Shank, Lenny White and John Faddis, and with other artists as diverse as Molly Brown, Annie Marie Moss, the Platters, Billy Tolles and Guitar Shorty. Steve has shared the stage with artists ranging from the Red Hot Chili Peppers to Junior Brown to Terence Blanchard. Steve lives in San Francisco, performing and teaching privately throughout the Bay area. Photos of the artist, along with music, reviews, scheduling and booking information can be found on the artist's website, www.stevesnelling.com. Insights to the Songs on Perfect Strangers Daniel The most intense job I ever had brought me into contact with some amazing young people dealing with overwhelming life challenges. At times heartbreaking and harrowing, the experience taught me that there is no line, on this side of which reside the “normal” people, and on the other, the “abnormal.” We are all in this together. One young man in particular evoked a unique drama around this point. For the sake of this recording, I call him, “Daniel.” This Can’t Be My World Almost everybody feels some kind of distance from the world, has at sometime stood on the edge of a canyon, or looked up under the night sky and cried, “I’m down here!” This is from what I call “the before time,” when there were decades of utter darkness. I’m still thankful for that cop in the snow bank. (Wasn’t too happy about the straight jacket though.) Faces on the Train A rainy Portland day like any other, but on this trip into town it seemed I was sharing the ride with a car full of characters from a Jim Jarmusch film. A bit surreal, but also, disturbingly typical. Precious Vessels A companion piece to “Faces.” Kids are these little information sponges: they take in everything, including the garbage. Through their actions, people will continually teach that killing and violence and hatred and greed are admirable values – then when things go wrong, turn around and wonder, “Gee, how did that happen?” Lunacy. Postcards from Diane One flip-side of “no news is good news,” is that sometimes, “all news is bad news” - a point illustrated daily in our disaster and mayhem glutted media. Even the best poetry about horror is still horrific. When I was living in the tiny Colorado mining town of Rico, my friend Diane showed me her collection of postcards folks had sent from all corners of the earth, notes from visitors grateful for the special beauty found in our sleepy mountain hamlet. This song I’ve dedicated to Diane, who always helps me keep it real when the news just drags ya’ down. If Only... Coffee house musings on the mildly sad boredom of the disaffected when they shoot you that, “What’r you lookin’ at!” glare. The song will have to do ‘cause, otherwise, I’m playin’ it close to the vest, Jim. Perfect Strangers Growing up, the real pain of being in love was not being able to tell anybody – not even my lover. I have to chuckle at these mopey open-mic dilettantes, always kvetching about the pain of romance, or the “dangers of falling in love”. For me, the real danger of falling in love was getting my ass kicked. But still, a lot of people have told me they can identify with this story. It’s not really about polarity: it’s about the desire for honest intimacy. But for the Likes of Lynda Barry This song contains some really sweet piano phrasings, and borrows from my classical background a bit. As for the lyrics, it's another instance where my exposure to the media was just getting to me. The papers are all full of lies and fashion, and it seems the only truth is in the comics. Ernie Pook’s Comeek, like Joni’s sweet laments, came along at just the right time to lift my heart. God bless Marliss and Maybonne.