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Wait, back up. Saying that without further explanation really doesn’t do proper justice to the band, the rest of the album or even the rest of this little bio. That one song — which features only lead singer/songwriter Trey Johnson on acoustic guitar and vocals — doesn’t even come close to conveying what Sorta is capable of at their best. To get a sense of that, you’d have to make it to the second song (the achingly beautiful — and unmistakably Byrdsy — “Sweet Little Bay”), or better yet, catch the band live, about three quarters into the set when the dreamy mix of pedal steel and keyboard-drenched Americana kicks in to full-tilt, Neil Young & Crazy Horse style rock ’n’ roll. That’s Sorta. Still, if you want to get right to the heart of what makes this band tick — the very spirit that gives it life and keeps it moving — well, you really can sorta get the gist from that first little song. In the span of a dozen short lines, Johnson captures the sense of carpe diem elation that comes from knowing that, be it in regards to life, love or career (or art), patience, optimism and hard work will all be rewarded. “Try switching from north to south / and making a wave / I just found it all works out,” he sings, later noting, “So you can split if you’re all burned out / But I’m gonna stay.” “For a long time, I had been trying, and I still am trying, to be totally satisfied with playing music,” explains Johnson, who’s been at it for nearly two decades. “And with Sorta … this is pretty much it. That’s the story behind the band name, too. It seemed to describe how I was feeling. Like, not that this is the be all, end all of my existence, not that I’m completely satisfied yet, but I’m getting close. And I’m pretty sure that if people get a chance to really hear this band, they’ll like it, too. I think we’ll all be pleasantly surprised.” The songs and performances on Little Bay — Sorta’s most fully realized studio creation to date — certainly lend weight to Johnson’s convictions, as does the critical approval that has already been heaped on the band in its native Big D and beyond. Thor Christensen of the Dallas Morning News praised the band’s “soaring hooks and impeccable guitar work” at a 2003 performance, while the Dallas Observer’s Zac Crain hailed Sorta’s 2002 full-length, Laugh Out Loud, as “the sound of a good band getting great” and Robert Wilonsky picked the band’s 2001 debut EP, Plays for Lovers, as “one of the best local records of the last year.” More recently, Johnson was voted “Best Male Vocalist” in the 2003 Dallas Observer Music Awards, Little Bay was described by Paste as “a batch of tunes as well crafted as any you’re likely to encounter this year,” and the aforementioned track “Sink or Swim” was one of 10 songs (out of more than 1,000 reader submissions) handpicked by none other than Liz Phair for inclusion on the Maybelline New York/JANE Reader CD 2004. Credit much of Sorta’s creative success to date to the years of collective experience and maturity each member brings to the table. Johnson, guitarist/keyboardist Carter Albrecht, bassist Danny Balis, drummer Trey Carmichael and pedal steel and slide guitarist Ward Williams are all tried and true veterans of the North Texas music scene. To a man, they’re all in their 30s, the decade that separates those who play rock ’n’ roll just to sow their wild oats from the lifers truly dedicated to their craft, the artists who make art for art’s sake rather than for naïve notions of fame and fortune. But even more significant is the band’s constant push to outdo itself rather than rest on past laurels. Consider the band’s very name to be much more of self-imposed taunt than an admission of content; the gulf between sorta satisfied and satisfaction is a wide one, but the insatiable hunger to bridge that gap is what gives the band its edge. To wit, even as the band and its label, Dallas’ Summer Break Records, continue to promote Little Bay, released in early 2004, with the intent of helping it find the wider audience it clearly deserves, the follow-up album (set for release in 2005) is already nearly finished. “I want to make a record,” says Johnson, “a record that is, front to back, listenable, compelling and propelling. Everything we’ve done so far — the Plays for Lovers EP, Laugh Out Loud, the More Myth EP and then Little Bay — each one of those gets closer and closer to this idea of a real record, one where you want to listen to the whole thing and when it’s done, you want to start it over again. Little Bay is as close to that as I’ve got so far … but I still want to go further, and get closer to that ideal.” For Johnson — and soon after, the rest of Sorta — that quest began in the summer of 2000. Johnson had recently disbanded his previous band, a garage rock outfit called El Scorcho, simply because, as he puts it, the band just couldn’t keep up with his furious songwriting pace. He found an outlet playing Sunday night solo gigs at a friend’s bar, Dallas’ Barley House. Said friend introduced Johnson to Balis, who was looking for a new outlet himself. “I played in a hard rock band in the late ’80s and early ’90s in Dallas,” says the Boston-born Balis. “After that, I spent about seven years trying to make it as a singer-songwriter type, but I wanted to have a band and I could never get it worked out the way I wanted it to. Finally I realized that I’m not the greatest songwriter or singer in the world, and I wanted to go back to doing what I was most comfortable doing, which was playing bass and singing background vocals. And that’s when I stumbled upon Trey.” Balis was duly impressed with the quality “and honesty” of Johnson’s songs and voice, and the pair immediately hit it off and commenced a six-month stint of duo gigs at the Barley House. The duo became a trio after Albrecht sat in with them one night (having left his Rhodes keyboard at the bar following a show with a Grateful Dead tribute band the night before), and a full-fledged band after the addition of a drummer and additional guitar player. It took a while before Carmichael and Williams found their way into the band to fill those last two seats, but the current line-up — as featured on Little Bay — represents Sorta at its best. “Finding Trey was like finding the drummer that I’ve always wanted,” enthuses Johnson of Carmichael, who had been a fan of the band before joining in 2002. Williams came on board in time for Little Bay, and the addition of pedal steel to Sorta’s arsenal has since become a key component of the band’s sound. Albrecht, meanwhile, may well be the band’s MVP, handling both keys and lead guitar with equal aplomb (and taste). “Carter is without question the most skilled, talented and natural musician in the band,” offers Balis, “but he never overplays. He adds so much color and texture without being the golden boy in the band.” (Well, at least not in this band; when not recording or gigging with Sorta — our touring with the likes of Edie Brickell — Albrecht fronts his own popular Dallas band, Sparrows.) With each new member — and each new trip into the studio — Sorta has come closer to not only achieving the perfect record in Johnson’s head, but more importantly, a distinctly Sorta sound. Johnson, an avowed Bob Dylan fanatic (going so far as to name his newly born daughter Dylan) who admits to a pronounced fascination on the themes of “love, family and fear” in his lyrics, brings the songs in in stripped-down, acoustic form and allows each band member to add their own distinctive stamp. “There was no plan or model in the beginning for how I wanted Sorta to sound,” says Johnson. “The model really was developed as each person stepped in.” He notes that Carter’s Rhodes and later Williams’ pedal steel in particular really set up how Sorta was going to pan out … but adds that Carter has been playing mostly guitar and Williams mostly slide on the in-progress new record, proving that even after finding it’s voice, Sorta refuses to settle into a comfort zone. “You know, we don’t rehearse that much, which I like because when we play these songs, everyone’s nice and off balance,” explains Johnson. “That makes it a lot of fun for us, because all the people in the band are really, really good, and they want it to be challenging — both live and in the studio. On Little Bay there’s a song called ‘Sweet Little Bay,’ and pretty much what you hear on the record is maybe the third time anyone’s ever played it. That’s part of its charm — it’s got a really great heartbeat because it’s so fresh.” Keeping things fresh and off balance is one of the reasons why Johnson quickly deflects outsiders’ attempts to label Sorta an alternative country band. Sure, that’s there if you look for it, but listen closer and you’ll find that Sorta’s sound, true to the band’s name, is sorta a lot of different things. That’s not from a lack of focus; it’s the mark of a great band keeping itself in fighting form by continually throwing caution and expectations to the wind. Which brings us back to that song, “Sink or Swim.” Yeah, Sorta is a band emboldened by the confidence that, whatever change of direction it makes on a whim, things will all work out. But not knowing exactly where they’ll end up or how they’ll get there … well, that’s the thrill of it all. “Say my prayers and forget my doubt |
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