|
Souls Asides and B-log Spin.com Punk Planet Metro Times Detroit Playback STL Anchorage Press In Music We Trust Synthesis Just Add Noise Derives (translated) The Philler Tastes Like Chicken Pop Matters F5 Wichita Follow The Daiz SBI (University of Buffalo) Splendid Exclaim No Man's Blues F5 Wichita Rockpile Big Takeover Unfinished Great Hoboes of New York Skratch Bettawreckonize Punk Planet Copper Press Pop Matters Unremitting Failure Pulse Weekly Opus Teaching the Indie Kids to Dance Again What's Up Bra? Indie Workshop Hybrid In Music We Trust Copacetic Left Off The Dial Transform Online To Remember/To Forget CMJ In Music We Trust Bettawreckonize Wake Slug Magazine Geek America Delusions of Adequacy Other Shit. Chicago Reader The Onion Shreveport Times Las Cruces Sun-News Daily Athenaeum (WVU) Aural Minority F5 Wichita New City Chicago Washington Post Village Voice Daily Nebraskan Des Moines Register Cornell Daily Sun Omaha Pulp |
REVIEWS OF SOULS "Mr. Gunshy, Matt Arbogast, has the voice that might ensue if Tom Waits swallowed that guy from the Mighty Mighty Bosstones, who in turn had swallowed Louis Armstrong, in sort of an Old-Lady-Who-Swallowed-the-Fly scenario. I get hoarse just listening to it, but the unapologetic bravado of the voice, the gravely dissipated desperation of the lyrics, and the nice little instrumental touches (mandolin, trumpet, violin, etc.) here and there won me over right away. “$4 Pabst” (5) broke my heart a bit, and not just because it remarks on the unreasonable pricing of "cheap" beers when they become trendy. Arbogast has one hell of a soul, especially for a cherub-faced 25-year-old (seriously: listen, then Google him, then watch your own jaw drop, as I just did) from Lancaster, Pennsylvania." - Asides and B-log "For the first minutes while listening to The Gunshy, you're going to find yourself shifting in your seat and feeling as if you can't catch your breath. You'll feel thension against your windpipe and agitated by your irreular breathing, until you realize that you are not afflicted, but simply reacting to Matt Arbogast's vocals straining through your speakers. Arbogast's voice is the unlikely centerpiece, sounding like a man who has been smoking a pack a day since he was conceived and is now only able to speak through song while he fights for another breath. Arbogast gasps for air as his rough voice etches into orchestra arrangements and sprouts from between the cement cracks of a barren guitar. You can almost see veins bulging from his neck as he forces out another syllable. Arbogast stands against comparisons to Tom Waits, but a difference in The Gunshy is that Arbogast finds suitable accompaniment in beautiful music that occassionally seep from an organ, trumpet, or violin. A listen through this record and you'll feel like you've been sitting in a smoke-filled room, nursing a glass of whiskey as your friend tells you stories he's been meaning to tell for a long time." - Punk Planet "Head Gunner Matt Arbogast gets nailed for aping Tom Waits so much, but that misses the whole point because he does it so well. When you do it as long and as well as he does, the purloined style eventually becomes all your own. And on this album, it finally does." - Jeffrey Morgan, Metro Times Detroit "If the vocals on Souls were immediately fetching or aesthetically pleasing, Chicago’s the Gunshy would easily have a larger following than they do. However, the Gunshy does not have this option, making this disc far more rewarding. Resembling a kinder or gentler Tom Waits, Matt Arbogast is in essence a solo performer who enlists accompanying musicians when deemed necessary. It is these accompanying musicians and their instruments that fill Arbogast’s songs with life and essence. While there are a few tunes that are less than inspiring, when Souls is on its game, it touts a number of excellent bursts of restrained yet inspired folky, indie rock. With trumpet, mandolin, flute, and violin, as well as the ubiquitous guitar, drums, and bass—both regular and standup—the finer tracks on Souls include “Last Songs,” Call Me Home,” “Remember These Chords in the Morning,” the rollicking “Stop Singing,” as well as the record’s title track. Whether his vocal style floats your boat or not, it’s high time to take notice of the Gunshy; Souls is an excellent place to start." - Playback STL Whiskey toasts and nicotine-stained last gasps in the melancholy smog of American Gothic confessions, darkly lit in the vein of Tom Waits and Shane McGowan. - Anchorage Press "The Gunshy's normal Nice Cave-meets-lo-fi indie-rock approach, dark, haunting acoustic music with plenty of emotion and intensity, comes full circle on their latest. Souls, an album that takes it up a notch, going beyond the lo-fi and including strings and horns, ensuring that the poignant pop in the songs isn't overshadowed by the intimacy. Though, as The Gunshy fans have grown to adore, the intimacy is still ever present. The result is a powerful, moving collection of lyrically-smart, somber, yet melodic songs that thrive under the added production values and instrumentation, but still feel as immediate and close as always." - In Music We Trust "Sometimes the beauty of sadness cannot be explained, it can only be treasured. The Gunshys' Soul is not an album for people who prefer easy songs hand fed to them. It is music meant to be explored, realized, and appreciated for what it is: brutally sincere. This heartbreaking album mesmerizes the mind with stirring melodies, gripping lyrical prose, and rightly placed horns. The horns on "Last Song" are so moving that I have to admit that each time I hear it I’m tempted to stand, throw my arms in the air, and spin. And its lyrics could make a clown cry: "Thank you for making me realize / These songs will be my life / And on the day I die / There'll be no reason to cry / Or wonder why / For I was made to preach / The haunted truths of those who will / Never be satisfied... Grade: A-" - Tastes Like Chicken "Matt Arbogast follows up No Man's Blues with an album that may not be as immediately dark as its predecessor but remains as gripping, if not more. And the key to this album, in fact the key to Arbogast himself, comes in the final verse of the record's second song, "I Am Not Who I Used To Be," where the Pennsylvania native sings: "Thank you for making me realize/These songs will be my life/And on the day I die/There'll be no reason to cry/Or Wonder why/For I was made to preach/The haunted truths of those who will/Never be satisfied." It is that lack of satisfaction that haunts the nicotine-stained narrator in "Last Songs," informs "$4 Pabst" and the mournful celebration found during "Remember These Chords In The Morning." Now, as much as in the past, Arbogast delivers literary narratives that haunt the listener with truth from beginning to end but still manage to offer some scintilla of hope in a ever more hopeless world. None of this is particularly easy listening, of course, as Gunshy songs demand that the listener be moved and sometimes it becomes difficult for even the most sympathetic among us, such as in "Spanish Girls," where the vocals become a projectile purging of the heart, a moment painful and private enough that it almost feels obscene. Those who encounter Arbogast for this first time on this recording will be reminded of a more desperate Tom Waits, a less pretentious Nick Cave and even Bruce Springsteen before he cashed in the dirt on his (supposedly) working class palms for air conditioned stages and stadium-sized subtly. But Arbogast is now and has long been the kind of song making hero who seems incapable of doing anything less than living the songs he writes and Souls is just one more step toward making us realize that. The Gunshy will play two shows on Friday, Oct. 28 — the first is an all-ages performance at Headway Skate Park, 200 N. Osage with The Hands of Fallen Brethren, Alphabet City, Long Division and Bat Tooth at 7 p.m. The latter will occur at The Anchor at 10 p.m., 1108 E. Douglas." - F5 Wichita "A Pennsylvania native, Matt Arbogast chokes out different cautionary tales of lament, love, and depression as if he were channeling Tom Waits himself. Gunshy's latest record 'Souls' is read like a diary and heard like a sermon through upbeat snare rhythms and organ blasts like a shiny ray of hope at the end of a long tunnel. The gift of storytelling is handed down from generation to generation and it's obvious Arbogast was blessed with this extraordinary gift as he struggles through his cough-like vocals simple to say something to the listener. Sometimes reminiscent to the likes of Blake Swartzenbach (Jawbreaker, Jets to Brazil), I imagine Arbogast's lyrics are handcrafted with paper and pen or maybe even on a typewriter in the darkness of a damp room which would easily match his gloomy, yet still hopeful, thoughts. Gritty metaphors like "she's the nicotine I don't need" ('My Nicotine, My Whiskey") defines Souls and is the reason the album found it's way to a nice cozy spot on my record shelf. " - Follow The Daiz "The latest album from The Gunshy stays on the same course that the previous album did: deadly, darker tunes that see the bottle or glass not half full but shattered on the barroom floor. "I Am Not Who I Used to Be" has singer/jack-of-all-trades Matt Arbogast singing the title in a way that makes Tom Waits sound cheerful. If you're listening to it, you expect the skies to grow dark and perhaps a dense fog to settle in. But Arbogast brings it to a hymnal-like conclusion with fabulous results. Fans of Buck 65 and The National would also be wise to seek this album out, especially with "Last Songs" that brings to mind The National's "Mr. November" with a touch of horns. The Gunshy revisit this somewhat later on with the rowdy yet swaying "Stop Singing". "My Nicotine, My Whiskey" is a simpler folk tune that flows along nicely in a singer-songwriter format while "Call Me Home" is a militaristic romp that sounds a bit like The Pogues circa If I Should Fall From Grace With God. The Gunshy aren't shy about giving you a different outlook judging by the slower, train-rolling "Remember These Chords in the Morning" with a mournful dirge cello underneath the mix. After a punchy title track, Arbogast ends it all with "Let There Be No Mounrful Tears", a tune that sounds like Arbogast's last will and testament. Rating: 8 of 10" - Pop Matters "Souls is the second full-length record from The Gunshy and is scheduled for release this December on Latest Flame Records. Musician Matt Arbogast is The Gunshy, as Souls seems to demonstrate so clearly. This record is, in many ways, the musical testament to a life fumbling towards contentedness. This is evident in the simplicity and lyrical organicism of a collection of songs that, above all, displays a remarkable honesty. With Souls, the sense of Arbogast’s self-effacing honesty is manifested in each of the album’s ten confessional tracks. They range in style and composition, but each constitutes a moment inside the consciousness of its creator. One of the record’s most memorable songs, “Last Songs” is about life on the road, solitude, and the constant choice between settling down and pursuing a rootless existence for the sake of a driving passion. Addressed to some unnamed mistress, a casualty of attempted love on the road, “Last Songs” concludes, “Thank you for making me realize, these songs will be my life/ And on the day I die there’ll be no reason to cry or wonder why/ For I was made to preach the haunted truths of those who will never be satisfied.” Souls is made of simple lyrics like these, which somehow secure a niche in the precarious balance between over and understatement. It seems that Arbogast’s delivery is the crucial factor in maintaining this balance. For instance, in “Last Songs,” a solid drum presence and lead guitar part (reminiscent of a surf rock electric lead) are sufficiently employed to build up melodic tensions at par with those of the lyrics, but don’t over-dramatize them. Even the entrance of an affirmative trumpet does not taint the balance. If the musical accompaniment to such words as these was at any point too much or the least bit pretentious, it would greatly diminish the at times gut-wrenching honesty, which inhabits each musical moment of consciousness. Perhaps the most striking audible element of The Gunshy’s music is Arbogast’s distinct voice. His gruff, yet elegant vocals constantly reside somewhere between exasperation and repose. The most obvious reference for comparison is Tom Waits, however, a direct parallel feels like a cop-out. Each artist is very different; Arbogast’s voice is far less deep and carries a faint air of desperation that Waits never approaches. His unique voice becomes part of the signature of this album. Its visceral sincerity keeps thoughts of contrivance far at bay, where such a unique voice may otherwise be suspect. In all, Souls is a beautifully written and recorded collection of songs offered with a startling degree of honesty. Gradually, the unassuming ten-track confessional disarms anyone who will listen with an amount of sincerity equal to the album’s, baring to them the soul of its professor. Rating" 5 out of 5." - SBI (University of Buffalo) "When you hear about a singer with nicotine-stained vocals, you probably think of someone who sings with a "gravel-coated" voice -- someone like Tom Waits, maybe. With Matt Arbogast, however, "nicotine-stained" is an understatement: his singing voice sounds truly damaged, to the point where you'll wonder whether this version of rock 'n' roll authenticity is something to truly strive for. It's kind of like Mohammed Ali's brain damage, only without the world championships and mega-millions. Fortunately, Souls doesn't rely entirely on Arbogast's voice. On previous Gunshy albums, he did little more than whisper over a single strummed guitar; Souls steps forward with bigger arrangements. The upshot of this is that there are more musical elements here to shoulder your attention. Ben Grigg's trumpet is integral to the uptempo "Last Songs", "Remember These Chords In The Morning" and the title track's stomp. "Call Me Home"'s bleak look back on a spent life benefits from the violin, and Arbogast's own harmonica adds the perfect touch to "$4 Pabst"'s tender remembrance of lost love. Even opener "I Am Not Who I Used To Be", in which he croaks lyrics like "I can spend a night along / Not thinking of who I would leave / If the bottle got the best of me" over a single strummed guitar, is eventually fleshed out with organ, and demonstrates a clearly delineated purpose rather than devolving into another formless plea for pity. The downside, of course, is that you still have to endure Arbogast's vocals to get any clear idea about the songs. He doesn't entirely avoid the one guy/one guitar standard: songs like "Spanish Girls" and closer "Let There Be No Mournful Tears" sit awkwardly alongside the album's more expansive arrangements. Arbogast's voice is indistinct and practically tuneless, and although songwriting easily outstrips his singing ability, his voice can still be rather distracting. Fortunately, these songs are strong enough to stand on their own; Arbogast's lyrics are still primarily depressing literary descriptions of a lonely life, but they don't drag the songs down into a pit of despair. That's an important point, too: so many talented songwriters pen misanthropic songs about topics close to their hearts, but their songs lean inward with such weight that it's impossible to escape their depravity. Souls is different. While its songs aren't necessarily hopeful, they offer enough compelling musical concepts to diffuse their lack of gravity. All the damaged vocal chords in the world can't sink an album this strong." - Splendid REVIEWS OF NO MAN'S BLUES "On 'No Man's Blues' The Gunshy offers up some of the most beautifully bleak and starkest of stark tunes you could ever hope to hear in this life or any other. Matt Arbogast (who essentially is the Gunshy) has found a way to dip his pen into the most hurt and hollow places of the human soul and has emerged with words that spill forth those deepest pains in a way that's not only realistic, it's also palpable. Think Nebraska-era Springsteen without the distant murmur of packed arenas in the past and on the horizon, think a more poignant Tom Waits, think Bob Dylan with boxing gloves strapped tight across his fists, think of lapsing into a depressive episode in the middle of an Irish jig. These are serious songs, though, filled with hopes crushed in the cracks of the sidewalks of Lancaster, Pa., of futures washed away with pills doled out by doctors and nurses when protagonists were far too young to begin numbing themselves from the world around them, these are songs, after all, about those who've died before they've begun to live, not because they choose to but because they exist in a world that wouldn't have it any other way. It's grim, sure, but it's sad and beautiful and if tracks such as 'Reason To Retreat,' 'I Will Die Alone' and 'Your Favorite Dylan Song' don't convince you, then you need only try again, for Matt Arbogast and No Man's Blues are the real deal. A great and important record. The Gunshy plays the Eagles Lodge on Sunday, Nov. 7 with William Elliott Whitmore, Troubled Hubble and Ricky Fitts." - F5 Wichita "The Gunshy main man Matt Arbogast obviously takes Tom Waits as some kind of surrogate father figure, because there is minimal ground between their vocal stylings. However, much is to be said for Arbogast’s relentless explorations of disappointment. He counters life’s lousily dealt hand with an extended middle finger, his weathered guitar and a sharp back-up band. When the songs on No Man’s Blues aren’t just him, they’re a big, dramatic production awash with descending chords and loads of cymbals. Arbogast discusses his impending death on nearly every song, though. Someone talk this guy back off the ledge, he’s got a lot to offer." - Rockpile "With a voice that sounds like too many drinks and too many long highways, Matt Arbogast takes the listener on a journey. The songs move from acoustic singer songwritten stories to a full on band rock extravaganza. Dynamic and alive. The music moves somewhere between indie rock and punked out Americana, but it¹s the voice that brings this record home. Almost falling like Tom Waits, but the sound and style seems a lot closer to Eric Bachmann (Crooked Fingers) or even, at times, Mike Ness. There¹s a rawness to these songs that make you feel real, and they make you feel honestly." - Big Takeover
"Some people are just too hard on raw vocalists. I think a rough voice can often bring more power into the music. Matt Arbogast, otherwise known as The Gunshy, is an excellent example of this. His vocals have a raspy Tom Waits quality to them. Both share an admiration for alcohol, pianos, and regret, but that's about as far as the comparison goes. Arbogast does a great job of staying one step ahead of the listener. No Man's Blues rarely slips and is full of creative energy. The songs range from drunken rockers ('Reason To Retreat') to intimate ballads ('I Will Die Alone'). The use of violin, cello, flute, harmonica, and banjo throughout the record truly add to the mix. Arbogast is a fine lyricist and his chops on guitar aren't bad either. My favorite track is the utterly painful 'Seven Weeks.' Then again, I'm a sucker for sad songs. This is definitely a keeper." - Unfinished
"While some of his material and live dates involve the assistance of a full band, The Gunshy is singer-songwriter Matt Arbogast's baby. If ever there was a vocalist who sounded similar to Tom Waits, it's Arbogast, who rasps, warbles and howls at the moon with reckless abandon. But make no mistake - Arbogast is his own man. His songs wield tattered pipes over a more indie pop and synthetic sounding musical material than Waits has usually traversed throughout his career. When Arbogast sings an emotive ballad, such as 'Breakin' Some Bad Habits,' it usually isn't with the consciously over-the-top demeanor that Waits adopts (never letting you know just how much of his tongue is planted firmly in his cheek). Even when Arbogast inhabits dystopian terrain, as on 'I Will Die Alone,' there is a poise-filled resignation that helps to make his material's depressive landscape seem genuine and hard won instead the usual songwriter hyperbole. He is also able to angrily rock out, on songs such as 'Congratulations': 'I don't blame these haunted nights on you. No, I knew them before you brought some hope to broken bones and were my favorite s----y metaphor.' Arbogast has the angst thing down in a way that thousands of mascara-wearing wannabe Goth kids and crying-in-their-beer cowboys wish they could approach. That said, I like him best on 'Dead End,' where he's grooving to a faux eighties pop hook, singing about asking a friend to return his ex-girlfriend's books for him. No Man's Blues mixes old and new in a bittersweet musical metaphor for the post-millennial multiplicity of cultural perspectives. In other words, Arbogast's finding many new ways of singing about old truths. I, for one, am excited to hear where he's headed next." - Great Hoboes of New York
"The second full-length release from Pennsylvania tunesmith Matt Arbogast is a gripping album of despair, lost love, and squandered opportunities. Once a solo project, Arbogast has added a few friends to The Gunshy to flush out his sound on this disc. The most distinctive thing about this album is the phenomenal vocals. Arbogast has a voice so gritty that he makes Tom Waits sound like a castrato. When he sings of his modest grave, haunted nights, and darkest dreams, his voice captures that desolate place in the heart. When the band kicks in to his acoustic guitar melodies, there is a Celtic vibe to the music. Hopefully, Arbogast’s life isn’t as dark as his music would lead us to believe. With a voice as phenomenal as his, the future should be bright indeed." - Skratch Magazine
"I’ve come to the general conclusion that there are two schools of songwriters – one fits into a category with Jeff Buckley and Rufus Wainwright – the songwriters whose voices soar above sweeping guitar and piano. The other school was professored by the likes of Tom Waits, Bob Dylan, Steve Earle and a pack of Marlboro Reds. The Gunshy’s Matt Arbogast has his PHD from the second school. No Man’s Blues is extremely solid from beginning to end, which is an accomplishment for any songwriter especially in days where the genre is dominated by pop hit machines like Dashboard Confessional. If you want to hear something real go no farther than 'Reason to Retreat'. I am glad to see that someone is still making honest/good music – file under SUPER TIGHT." - Bettawreckonize
"This album plays like a catharsis, a purging of pent-up anger, love, self-loathing and fear. On 'No Man's Blues', Arbogast is backed by a melange of musicians. The acoustic guitars, cello, violin, and occasional harmonica paired with Arbogast's gravelly voice lend to the exceptionally mournful, poignant sound...this is a great album." - Punk Planet
"It’s no coincidence that No Man’s Blues opens on raspy voiced singer/songwriter Matt Arbogast, who croons an electro-folk ballad that continues to focus listeners' attention long after the rhythm section fuses together an accompaniment of drums, bass and keyboard. Abrogast’s soothing, everyman guitar and his I-smoked-two-packs-a-day-and-don’t-give-a-fuck vocals clamp down with an unforgivingly raw allure. His narrative storytelling plays like the guilty pleasure of a long departed pulp novel, a jukebox sympathy that one would picture unfolding from the speakers of a sparse and seedy Irish pub. Not the trendy sort, where hipsters flirt and drink Guiness pints and listen to Flogging Molly, The Tossers and Dropkick Murphys, but one that caters to miners and mill workers and serves cheap bourbon. Reminiscent of latter day Dylan, if only Dylan could have lost his voice with such conviction."
–Barry Engelhardt. Copper Press "As Jeff Tweedy is basically Wilco, Matt Arbogast is basically The Gunshy. Recording this album in two stints recently, The Gunshy sound like the distant relative of Tom Waits as Arbogast's fragile, whiskey stained pipes are delectable on the slow 'Reason To Retreat'. It's a perfect start that is part Celtic sway and driving power pop as The Gunshy ride a never-ending crescendo. He later perfects this on the rambling rock-tinted 'Your Favorite Dylan Song'. Arbogast isn't the happy-go-lucky sort on the sparse folk of 'I Will Die Alone' which could make a grown man cry. 'I know I will die alone,' he sings as a guitar is heard in the distance. It's this depressingly yet gorgeous style that makes The Gunshy so damn good! 'Congratulations' doesn't reinvent the wheel but has Arbogast spewing a tad more venom at his target. 'Dead Ends' has more of an up-tempo roots rock base. The landmark moment comes during an angry 'Seven Weeks' that hits a nerve. 'I'm fuckin' up my life for rock and roll,' he sings on the captivating effort. The Gunshy come off as if they have a gun nearby and are penning letters before they do something drastic, including on the lovable 'Breakin' Some Bad Habits' featuring Michelle Moyer on cello. Going down such a dark path is not recommended, but The Gunshy has done a yeoman's job walking it and should reap the rewards from it." — Jason MacNeil. Pop Matters "'These cigarettes may kill me, but for now they're keeping me alive,' sings Matt Arbogast, aka The Gunshy, whose 'Your Favorite Dylan Song' gives Crooked Fingers a run for the money in the dourness department. But then it kicks into overdrive and all you can do is raise your arms in the air, praying for death or heroin."
- Unremitting Failure "Forget the layers of solid sonic foundations that make up The Gunshy’s overall dark sound; forget the power behind the build-ups and the weightlessness felt during the breakdowns – what is most striking about The Gunshy is Matt Arbogast’s tortured voice. Arbogast belts breathy phrases about hurting the people he holds closest." - Pulse Weekly "I'm not sure if Matt Arbogast has weathered everything that life could possibly throw at him, but that's certainly the impression one gets from his howling voice. Reminiscent of Tom Waits, Arbogast's (who records as The Gunshy along with numerous friends and cohorts) voice is drunken and swaggering, always sounding as if his vocal chords are being torn to shreds as he sings his confessional lyrics. On 'Your Favorite Dylan Song', the slowburning anthem that serves as the climax of his latest album, No Man's Blues, Arbogast's throaty cries are framed within surging drums and wails of guitar feedback, which lend lyrics such as '...these cigarettes may kill me/But for now they're keeping me alive' additional import.
- Opus "The Gunshy is another name for Pennsylvania based singer-songwriter Matt Arbogast, and whoever he manages to round up to play drums and stuff. "Your Favorite Dylan Song" is what Tom Waits might sound like if he had Dylans penchants for long, guitar driven epics. Nicotine scorched vocals, raw, intense guitar work, and a stripped down, bare bones approach to the word epic that makes every note, every phrase, burn with tension, with power." - Teaching the Indie Kids to Dance Again
"This record is brilliant. Take everything you love (or hate) about Tom Waits and make it raw. Matt Arbogast, the creative singer/songwriter, is the man behind The Gunshy. It's difficult to review something that is someone else's feelings, as as you listen to this record you know exactly how he felt the moment he was writing the lyrics. It's painfully honest and truthful. When he whispers 'I'm fucking up my life for rock and roll' you can't help but know exactly what he means. Playing as a band or just by himself, The Gunshy manages to capture your utmost attention, turn you upside down and spit you out and you're not the same afterwards." - What's Up Bra?
"Matt Arbogast (Gunshy vocalist) seems to have smoked a lot of cigarettes. The result of his smoking has forged some sort of symbiotic relationship between his vocals and instruments, leaving them scuffed up, scratched, and pretty raw. If you could make a graphical representation of The Gunshy's music, it would just be a large amount of ash and soot, with maybe a few guitar strings coiled up around it. The music on No Man's Blues is much like this, choking itself in deep bluesy twangs and dusty drum spatters. "He said, 'I'm sure I will be forgotten/These days have played me like a fool," are the opening lyrics to No Man's Blues, and sets the general tone for the album. Although Arbogast might have a bleak outlook on life, his music is one thing that turned out well. Often his music is painfully soulful, catching the listener in his wails of supposed torment. In my favorite song "Seven Weeks" it seems that all he does is yell his chalky voice until it blows out, but then he starts back up again in the next song. Often his music is depressing, it is hard for it to not rub off a little. I myself felt a little down after listening to 'I Will Die Alone,' hearing Matt Arbogast proclaiming over and over, 'Where hollow stairs by former flairs/won't remind me of what I already know/I will die alone.' It's no surprise that The Gunshy has shared the same ticket as fellow sad-sacks Elliot Smith or Songs:Ohia." - Indie Workshop
"I'm a little torn because I like Tom Waits...a lot. And Matt Arbogast's hobo-hacked voice sounds like Tom Waits...a lot. So factoring in imitation and flattery and the like, let's explore what separates The Gunshy from our favorite curmudgeon. The arrangements are definitely not Wait's style. Instead of saloon rags and carnival tents, there are expanses of furious and alternately sparse guitar scrubbing joined by violin pregnancies that swell to the point of bursting. There's the acoustic, naked rage of "Seven Weeks," which leaves both singer and listener vulnerable. "Stories" may not reveal its nature outright, but beneath the e-bow and modern piano, it's a fast moving sea-chanty. Many moods and styles are covered as Arbogast establishes his musical proclivity, using top-notch musicians to this end. So it's on to content. Mostly self-depreciating themes soaked in gruff tenderness. "Dead Ends" describes his best-case scenario, "You wouldn't mind the broken bed/or my left arm wrapped around you/you'd watch me with one eye as you read "Leaves Of Grass" again." No cliches, the personal lyrics paint an identifiable picture vague enough to apply to yourself. And well-crafted tales have any agenda laid out plain. Keeping in mind that I find self-reproach a noble and admirable life-path, and find sentiments like "I Will Die Alone" somehow charming, I give The Gunshy four and a half out of a fifth of Jack Daniels, but leave the bottle. Like Waits fronting Crime And The City Solution. Arbogast's own summation? 'It would be fine to break the record/leave the show/It makes more sense than what I've come to know/a little self-marketed in sorrow.'" - Hybrid Magazine
"With a voice not unlike that of Tom Waits, deep, dark, and throaty, marred by cigarettes and alcohol, the same things that give it its depth and flavor, comes Milwaukee, Wisconsin's The Gunshy. The Gunshy is the musical outfit for one Matt Arbogast, who, along with a cast of friends, has created a well-worn, bar-flavored indie-folk record that tells a story well, and conveys its principal point without beating around the bush. The songs are well written, the voice an acquired taste (but the thing that really takes the songs from mediocre to powerful), and the performances dark, just the way they need to be. Here is a record you can imagine playing late at night, as you try to sober up, or at a bar while you get loaded. It's got its time and place, but when the time and place are right, its moody, indie-cool branded folk-rock flavor hits the spot." - In Music We Trust "The Gunshy is a serious-minded, embearded young singer-songwriter fellow named Matt Arbogast. The first and most obvious thing to remark on is his vocals, which sit squarely at the halfway point between the gravel of Tom Waits and the rasp of Eric Bachmann (Crooked Fingers). I'm not sure if this relatively young guy is singing like a grizzled old man because it's his natural voice or because it's an affectation, but there's a lot of conviction when he bellows out a line like "I'm f***ing up my life for rock and roll!" The album alternates between electric rockers and quieter acoustic numbers, recorded with an empty-room ambience. The songwriting mines the same gritty, dark-yet-hopeful vein as his vocal forebears; it seems unaffected and the lyrics are very direct, so even though the stylized vocals give me some uncertainty, I think this is some pretty honest expression going on here. This is a good quality release if you're into this sort of thing." - Copacetic Zine "This is a tough one to review. Have you ever been to a concert and seen an opening band hit you on the head with desperate songs about how their life is full of shit, terrible, and hopeless? One certainly comes to mind for me. I saw Swearing at Motorists live in Austin, TX once. This show consisted of the drummer from another band and a lone singer/electric guitarist. Most of the songs were spoken lyrics with occasional short thrashes of guitar and anger as the themes became more desperate and hopeless. Only the amp was broken, and every time he tried to play his guitar loudly, the sound would drop out and fizzle, leaving him more and more frustrated. It was a bright sunny day and everybody was outside drinking at the bar, so seeing somebody who fit every DSM-IV criteria for major depressive disorder (and then some) undergo such technical humiliation wasn’t exactly my idea of a good time. If The Gunshy has anything working against them, it probably falls into a similar category. What we have is a very talented songwriter named Matt Arbogast, who seems like his original style of writing was a dark confessional song-structure, backed mostly by some timid acoustic guitar strumming. In fact, hearing a song like “Seven Weeks” live during an opening act performance conjures up the potential for another Swearing at Motorists nightmare to me. Fragile words about a doomed relationship, alcoholism, and cheery lines like “I’m fucking up my life for songs I know nobody would like…” should give you the picture. But wait, there is hope! No Man’s Blues represents a crucial change in direction for The Gunshy. Arbogast has recruited a bunch of band members to help him out in spots so that over half of the songs here really shine in a new light. The hopeless acoustic ballad isn’t necessarily a lost cause in the world of music, but for each success like Big Star’s “Holocaust,” there are at least a few dozen that don’t quite work out. Then again, there are a few dozen Cure albums with a full band and similar themes that do work. What does that tell you? In my opinion, depressing songs sound best in the context of heavily dynamic music. Just listen to “Your Favorite Dylan Song” here on No Man’s Blues. It uses a full on indie rock band approach to deliver lines like “These cigarettes may kill me but for now they’re keeping me alive” in a way where you can feel the singer’s desperation, but the music is crucial in building that bridge with the audience. Musically stripped down confessional despair has to be used sparingly (or with the godlike wit of a Stephen Merritt) to be successful, but The Gunshy’s five full band songs here are really impressive. So impressive in fact, that a sparse track like “Mistaken” begins to reveal it’s true beauty in the new context. My advice to The Gunshy is to keep working in the full band direction and to save some of the confessional skills of Arbogast as the ace in their hole. My advice to you is to check out No Man’s Blues if you get a chance, because a couple songs here are too good to pass up. - Left Off the Dial "I met Matt Arbogast, aka The Gunshy, during the summer of ’01 when he was getting over a broken arm and finishing up his first record, To Remember/To Forget. I stayed at his house in Lancaster, PA and he played me some rough demos that sounded right at home with my Tom Waits collection. We stayed in touch and saw each other a few more times on tour, his arm eventually healed, and a good deal of time later – just when I had almost forgotten about The Gunshy – he has returned with No Man’s Blues to thoroughly impress me. Though I liked To Remember/To Forget, it is here that Matt finally nails the Waitsian ability to meld smoky aesthetics and late night / early morning drunken serenades. The debut seemed too busy trying to capture the essence instead of the actual songs, but all 10 tracks here accomplish both. His husky voice (which sounds nothing like his speaking voice) conveys emotions without sacrificing tune-ality, painting within the same lines as The Heart of Saturday Night and reeking of trauma and drama. As I listen to No Man’s Blues, I can’t help but smile at the memory of the first planting of The Gunshy’s seed three years ago. Great job, Matt. You sound fabulous and I hope to see you soon." - Transform Online REVIEWS OF TO REMEMBER/TO FORGET "From his moniker alone, it's clear that The Gunshy's Matt Arbogast is pretense-phobic. His warts and blemishes aren't merely part of his music- these shortcomings, failed relationships and social anxieties form the centerpiece of his debut, To Remember To Forget. The Gunshy will undoubtedly be compared to Bright Eyes, not only because of the band line-up that revolves around its mastermind, but because of the gory affect imposed on both frontmen's voices. Whether he's whispering or singing with a sick-sounding croak, Arbogast never stops warbling. Recorded on an eight-track in Arbogast's hometown of Lancaster, Pennsylvania with a few guest musicians, Forget is packed with sparse, acoustic sadness. Still, there are occasional bright spots in the bleak tapestry: the keyboard in 'To Forget' helps sweeten the despondency found in lines like, 'I'm living less with every breath.' The penultimate track, 'Always Right,' is the album's shining moment. It sports a catchy melody, a guitar line that chimes with life and lyrics that bespeak resolution, not helplessness. That it comes so late into the album makes its poignancy resounding: it shows that, like the best downtrodden music, 'To Remember/To Forget' has the power to get over itself and ultimately sound uplifting. Essential." - CMJ
"Using the moniker The Gunshy, Lancaster, PA's Matt Arbogast, with the help of his acoustic guitar and husky voice, delivers pensive, heart-on-sleeve ramblings, intimate love songs, and timid insights into life from the eyes of a singer-songwriter. Preferring the subtle to the intrusive, To Remember/To Forget doesn't cry on your shoulder or make you feel down. Instead, it speaks its mind without pushing you away, playing to your mood. Coming across dark and depressed when you need it, and able to conjure up the feelings to put you to bed after a memorable evening, the album holds strong throughout and gives you plenty of ammunition to come back to." - In Music We Trust
"The Gunshy are a trio of young men, headed by guitarist/vocalist Matt Arbogast, intent on wearing their proverbial hearts on their sleeves while avoiding any ties to the dreaded 'e' word. Their music is a fine testament to honest lyricism and simple songwriting. Matt Arbogast's lyrics come from the experience of someone twice his age, ('I know half of them made little sense, But nothing's changed I still forget what I think you might want to hear next, I've come to accept I'm living less with every breath.') and his voice takes on this personality with his gravelly out of breath delivery. In combination with his acoustic strumming and his bandmates subtle drums and keyboards, you'll start to believe that you're hearing some youthful proteges of Tom Waits or Low. Arbogast has offered an invitation for you to come into his little world and meet these strange and simple people that have made an undeniable impression on him and perhaps The Gunshy will leave you with a better understanding of those that you take for granted. If nothing else, remember The Gunshy's name, because they're only going to get better with age." - Bettawreckonize
"Like a flitting memory just out of grasp the cd 'To Remember/To Forget' draws your mind on a low-fi, melancholy trip of subtle thoughts and barely there melodies. It teases your mind with ghostly tunes and lyrics hinting at so much more. Led by the young singer and songwriter Matt Arbogast, from Lancaster, PA. The Gunshy is a sometimes band, sometimes solo act. This album is performed by a trio of boys playing a multitude of instruments varying per track. Throughout the disc, guitars, cellos, drums, keyboards and bass can be heard, but barely. Gently plucked strings and pretty chords are heard occasionally but there are moments where there are no instruments at all. Just the monotone, murmurings of raspy voiced Matt. It's different than anything else out there just by it's sheer scarcity of anything typical. It is strange to hear music that sounds 'silent', almost creepy. So subtle at times it's non-existent, but the knowledge that something is there and affecting is undeniable. So much emotion is heard with such little variation and inflection it is unsettling, but the impact of the music and profundity of the lyrics is clearly felt. Singing softly, it sounds like Matt's whispering ghostly, half heard messages into your ear. He has an aged voice, sounding as though he's already lived lifetimes beyond his years and is drawling out the tedious experiences of past regrets purely for the benefit of the listener, though it must pain him. Sometimes trippy, and sometimes disturbing (check out the long, bizarre hidden track for example) all these eerie, desolate songs may rouse a big question: where's the pep? A lighthearted journey of fanciful memories cannot be found here, but the teasing tastes of pleasantries can be, on the albums most standout tracks ('The Ghost of an Alibi' and 'Always There'). Enhanced greatly by a fuller sound, the instruments make their presence known and are welcome comforts to hear. Even though they're still played in a subtle fashion, it feels like deafening relief after such desolate, dreary soundscapes. If you enjoy simple stripped down acts such as Tom Waits, Low, or Onelinedrawing, and somber nights of tears and dim light are what you're looking for, than this album is for you. Declared an 'essential' artist by CMJ, it's possible that soon The Gunshy's whisperings will be reminding everyone to forget." - Wake Zine
"I came upon the whisky soaked droll of The Gunshy by random chance. Vocally I invision Tom Waits in the late 60's in the basement pubs of Hamburg, Germany singing to the lonesome individuals about the melancholy of past breakups and future loss. Upon each listen I find The Gunshy the narrator for much of my own loneliness and heartache. Each song brings another honest story of nostalgic loss, 'We have the ones the most who aren't afraid to show those traits we spend our whole lives trying to hide.'" - Slug Magazine
"Matt Arbogast is the head of this project, which can range from just him, to a full band, much like Wolf Colonel. Unlike Wolf Colonel though, this is the kind of stuff you turn off the lights, light a couple of candles and get drunk on wine by yourself to. His voice barely ever creaks past a whisper and always seems on the verge of breaking into tears. The minimalist approach of acoustic guitars quietly accompanied on occasion by drums, cello, etc. does a lot for the sound. All in all, not a bad bit of work, and certainly not something I would mind seeing live...unfortunately The Gunshy aren't local. I'll just have to wait to see if they tour." - Geek America
"The Gunshy's Matt Arbogast's voice has that perfect breathy quality that just seems to evoke sincerity and compassion. It's as if he's singing to you, almost whispering his vocals in a hushed tone that speaks of deseration and melancholy...Take a heavy dose of Bright Eyes' Conor Oberst (without the warbly vocals), add in a dash of Nick Drake, and stir in Will Oldham, and you have concocted The Gunshy. The sincerity is undeniable, and the soft acoustic guitar and conspirational tone is a nice approach...The Gunshy have created a very passionate debut album that's perfect for early morning or late night listening." - Delusions of Adequacy
OTHER SHIT "Though Matt Arbogast, a recent transplant from Lancaster, Pennsylvania, often enough enlists friends' help to perform and record as The Gunshy, he's essentially a solo artist hiding under a band name like a rattlesnake in the bushes. His brutally sad songs traipse between Americana and emo, with weird little keyboard and guitar fills jammed in at odd angles and drumbeats perfectly emphasizing his raw vocal lines. It's a bit like Springsteen as described by Dante. With two albums and an EP behind him, Arbogast will release a new full-length, Souls, on Latest Flame in the fall." - Chicago Reader, August 26 2005 "Matt Arbogast's whiskey-and-cigarette voice is sure to earn The Gunshy more than a few comparisons to Tom Waits, but while Waits baths his cantankerous hard-luck stories in kitchen-sink aesthetics, Arbogast applies wobbly bar-room waltzes to a more rock-infused sonic canvas. Not unlike Crooked Fingers, The Gunshy's recent 'No Man's Blues' sounds like the work of a reformed punk screamer looking for a less ball-busting way to get his point across." - The Onion, May 19-25 2005 "Matt Arbogast, also known as indie singer/songwriter The Gunshy (pictured), isn't going to pull away from the subjects that move him most. His vocal work for his forthcoming album, "Souls," was inspired by the mix of freedom and loneliness he finds on the road. Though he recently moved to Chicago from Lancaster, Pa., to find a bigger stage for his music, he has discovered that his life as an indie singer-songwriter may be destined to be a lonely one. "It might be just self-inflicted isolation," he said. "I grew up in Lancaster, Pa., and lived there pretty much alone. It was that isolation that drove me to what I'm doing. Even here (in Chicago), it's just maybe a certain breed of people that like to spend their time in solitude and quiet and thinking way too much and making music." For the past few years, he has used a series of minitours to connect with audiences around the country. Shreveport will be the third stop on an 11-day, 11-city tour through the South. "I'm finding out that it's been really tiring, but it's been good," he said. "There is a lot of figuring out how to have as normal a life as possible when you're on the road all the time. ... It's less of a vacation, and it's not like we're glamorized and finding chicks and going crazy." He will be joined by singer-songerwriter Andrew Bryant from the Oxford, Miss., music scene. "Souls" will be released Dec. 6 by Latest Flame Records." - Shreveport Times
"Matt Arbogast's The Gunshy takes the mellowest of Tom Waits and the sincerest of Elliott Smith and sows them into a curtain of sorrow, catharsis and ultimately, grace. His graveled voice mathes the frantic strumming of an acoustic guitar with unbelievable smoothness. The texture of Arbogast's folk/rock songwriting is something to be desired-lost loves, ended friendships, the fight for air in every breath. 'To Remember/To Forget', The Gunshy's first record, introduced Arbogast's growl to a handful of stage mourners. 'No Man's Blues' should introduce him to a lot more. Constant touring takes the Pennsylvania native around the country all the time, and one of these days, The Gunshy will stick. On this tour, Arbogast plays with a backing band, something he doesn't need but still finds subtle ways to use to his advantage. Either way, the cigarette voice makes music in bars look like music seen in bars." - New City Chicago. 4/15/04
"Also at the Hut on Sunday will be The Gunshy, aka Matt Arbogast, who has been writing and recording in his Lancaster, Pa., home for the past six years. In June, Arbogast released his debut CD as The Gunshy, "To Remember/To Forget," a sparse collection of songs recorded in his attic bedroom and released on his own Sleep Recordings. The CD earned comparisons to Tom Waits, Will Oldham and Bruce Springsteen's "Nebraska" period with its stark, even bleak, ruminations on life, death and lost love. Then Arbogast hit the road, sharing stages with the likes of the late Elliott Smith, Pedro the Lion, Alkaline Trio and Joan of Arc. Crouched intently over his guitar, singing in a strangled whisper or a pained cry, Arbogast has an intensely vulnerable style. He can be somewhat disconcerting in concert, conjuring a world of disappointment and despair. The Gunshy's second full-length CD, "No Man's Blues," was released to coincide with this solo tour. Recorded in Lancaster and Chicago with new musical collaborators and more instrumentation, "the new record sounds almost nothing like the first one," Arbogast said." - Washington Post
"The Gunshy's Matt Arbogast sings in a wavering and engaging voice, just not too loud to wake up his roommates." - Village Voice
"For the past five years, 23-year-old guitarist/vocalist Matt Arbogast has been touring the country under the name The Gunshy. The Lancaster, Pa., native's, raspy, monotone voice has drawn comparisons to performers such as Tom Waits and a young Bruce Springsteen, adding weight and age that belie his young age. He brings his laid-back rock stylings to the Vaudeville Mews, 212 Fourth St., at 8 p.m. Tuesday. The Gunshy released his first album, 'To Remember/To Forget', in June 2002, and his second release is due in August. For the most part, The Gunshy is a one-man act, but Arbogast has been known to occasonally bring friends onstage to perform with him. The San Francisco-based Ral Partha Vogelbacher will open the show. The group's most recent album is the unusually titled 'The More Nice Fey Elven Gnomes are Hiding in My Toilet Again.' Tickets are $4 in advance, $6 at the door." - Des Moines Register, 7/2/03
"Music Is Magic Fanclub collective presents eclectic five-band set By ALEXIS DIFERDINANDO and ANDREW GILMAN As the climate in Ithaca is apt to drastic shifts, the Fanclub Collective-curated show at J.A.M. this past Saturday, featuring Content, 'Fraid Knots, Vox Humana, Teapot Dome Orchestra, and The Gunshy, presented styles that changed as quickly as the weather of this town. This is not to say that this weekend's performers, students and touring artists alike, did not share a common passion for music. In fact, dedication to music as an art and for some, as a career, shone throughout the night. Content was the spark that ignited the evening. The performance space blew up with piercing drum beats, distorted guitar, and resounding bass. A mix of Radiohead-influenced rock and metal-inspired intensity, Content explored a hybrid territory in their first performance at J.A.M. Taking the stage next, the 'Fraid Knots slowed down the pace of the concert to the comfortable and inviting tempo of an acoustic set, resembling the kind of intimate setting one would see on MTV Unplugged. With two acoustic guitars and an electric bass, the band stayed true to a lo-fi, folk rock aesthetic. Touching guitar chords and soft vocal harmonies characterized their songs, which evoked the idiosyncratic singing tendencies of Phil Elvrum, The Microphones' frontman. Their short yet memorable set ran through a series of covers and originals. The Stones' "Gimme Shelter" took on a new light as the song was stripped down to its most basic elements by the band. Dan Meyler, the singer and guitarist, spoke between songs and gave a personal feeling to the show. The 'Fraid Knots original "You Make Me Tense" lingered in the audience's head with its catchy chorus and guitar parts, as the band retired from the stage to warm applause. Keeping with this acoustic theme, Vox Humana, roughly Latin for human voice, conversed with the audience through seductive whispers that grew into bold statements. In "Crawl Over Me," a sexually enticing piece, guitarist Vick Lazar sprinkled the audience with a Beck-like mellow twang. Strumming in a Pixies-like guitar style, Lazar lightened the mood on "Punch in the Throat" accompanied by bassist Dan Smith, who grounded the duo's flight. Soon thereafter, The Teapot Dome Orchestra made their way onstage amidst a cornucopia of equipment ranging from cello and guitars to laptops. With their first song, "Stand Still," as guitarist and lead singer Ben Kupstas rhythmically spoke into a megaphone, the Teapot Dome Orchestra invited the audience into their world. The warm timbre of the cello, played by Alex Vaughan, and the caressing violin of Nina Kocylowski combined with the insistent guitars of Ben and Jon Aizen, all backed by a laptop beat, characterized the TPDome sound. Willing to take risks with electronic experimentation throughout their set, the band continually approached their music in unconventional ways, even using a bowed guitar Sigur Rós style on one song. They approached their covers in a similarly creative fashion, playing their renditions of Prince's "When U Were Mine" and Tears for Fears' "Mad World." With such originals as "Antigone" and "When Telephones Ring," the TPDomers let loose, often delving into a fury of instrumental harmony and grooves. Closing their set with "A Waltz," the band oscillated between mellow meanderings and rock-out blow-ups. The Gunshy, composed solely of painfully self-aware artist Matt Arbogast, closed the show. Ironically audience members were drawn to Matt's apparent lack of self-confidence, though some might have been caught off guard by such an insecure performer. Whether or not the audience identified with The Gunshy's excessive consciousness, no one could deny he put his whole being into the performance. The audience was riveted by emotional outpouring as Matt sang lines like "I know I will die alone." This brutally honest tone was present throughout the set, telling of the harsh realities of life: "I fucked up my life for rock 'n' roll." With a hint of confidence, Matt took the risk of playing both guitar and harmonica to spice things up during his two song encore. All in all, it was a concert with something everyone could enjoy, from the brazenly provocative to the endearingly familiar. Whichever way the weather turned that night, the passion behind the music was unwavering." - Cornell Daily Sun, 3/13/03
"Each week, Pulp quizzes some of our favorite musicians, asking the same six questions. Clip, save, compare! These days, folks sometimes equate simple and sparse with elementary or lacking, but done right, simple and sparse can make some of the most hauntingly poignant music around. Enter 23-year-old Matt Arbogast, better known as the Gunshy. His first full-length record, To Remember/To Forget, can’t help but conjure images of a young Tom Waits or Leonard Cohen in some smoky basement, strumming and singing for friends over a few cold beers. And although the acoustic guitars, hoarse vocals and occasional cello lend themselves to a depressing, mournful sound, the songs come off as simply heartfelt, leaving you to decide where you’ll let them take you. And while the record is one you should already own, it’s the live performances that make the Gunshy truly engaging. Arbogast pours his heart into the pensive singer/songwriter mold without coming off as a stereotypical self-conscious shoe-gazer. The Gunshy plays the 49’r on Wednesday, July 9, and I promise it will be worth the $3 at the door even if that kid with the tiny wiener is running around naked again. We asked Arbogast our same six. What record should everyone have in their collection? One record? Wow, that’s tough. I’d say Jawbreaker’s 24 Hour Revenge Therapy. But that’d be just my personal opinion. What’ja dolass night? Last night was pretty boring. We just worked on the record for a while, had a few drinks, then I came home and worked on the artwork for my friend’s e.p. What do you think of Clear Channel? I honestly don’t know too much about Clear Channel. They don’t really seem to do much to help bands who don’t have a huge major label budget behind them, but if a band or artist really wants to do what they’re doing that won’t matter. What Clear Channel or any other company does or doesn’t do shouldn’t have a bearing on what becomes of a band or artist. And it doesn’t have to. If you really want to do something there’s always a way to make it work. Describe your most horrifying concert experience. I don’t have any really exciting or crazy stories, but the worst show I ever played was in Boston on my first tour. It was the third show of a seven-week tour and I broke three strings in the first two songs. I’m a lefty, so I couldn’t borrow anyone’s guitar. That probably sounds pretty lame and it is, but it just made me feel pretty horrible for some reason. What’s the worst job you’ve ever had? My first job was at McDonald’s. Musically, what are you most proud of? Just being able to drive around the country playing songs and having at least a few people who are interested enough to listen. And right now, I’m pretty amazed at the people who’ve helped me make the album we’re almost done with. I’m just a guy in Amish country, Pennsylvania, playing some simple songs, but I’ve been somehow fortunate enough to get to know and work with some really incredible people. I’m just putting out my own records and doing what makes sense like a million other bands and musicians. I’m not quite sure why I’ve been given the opportunities I have, but I appreciate it." - Omaha Pulp, 7/3/03
|