All of Sattie Clark's songs are about the same subject: being human. Sattie examines that unique combination of gift and curse with songs that are every bit as complex, diverse, beautiful and sad as modern life itself.
Like any artist who attempts something as bold and unlikely as a career, Sattie's journey has taken many forms. Born to hippie parents in the San Francisco Bay area, Sattie has been the guiding force behind a couple of promising Portland, Oregon-based bands -- Big Blue Marble and, more recently, 17 Reasons Why. Both bands broke up, because that's what bands do. Big Blue Marble broke up (onstage, during a gig, it is told) after one gorgeous album of unique folk-pop. From the wreckage of that band, Sattie formed 17 Reasons Why, a perfect pop vehicle for Sattie's increasingly personal but universal songs about love gone terribly wrong and surprisingly right.
With its independently released album, The Dark Years, 17 Reasons Why made its pitch for wider recognition and the kind of success radio seems hellbent on denying to such fiercely individualistic voices. The album is an undiscovered gem, crackling with urgent guitar lines and Sattie's complex and lovely examinations of the human heart in extremis, of being human.
With both those vehicles gone, the journey continues. This is the voice of a fine writer interpreted by the warm and soulful voice of an equally fine singer. Neither voice is going to be stilled. The tempting image now is of the hitchhiker, continuing the journey with a guitar strapped across her back, her destination a place where people hunger for thought-provoking lyrics and catchy pop riffs. Working under her own name, and without the safety net of a band for the first time, Sattie has delivered a new batch of heartfelt and well-crafted songs. Armed only with her guitar and her powerful voice, Sattie takes on the themes you would expect from a restless soul who continues to seek truth and beauty in the reality and heartbreak of everyday life.
-- Phil Sheridan, Philadelphia PA , January 2001