Seam: The Problem With Me (favorite albums of all time, pt. 12)
When I broke up with my girlfriend in 1995 and fell in love with someone else, I needed a soundtrack for driving around late at night feeling elated/sorry for myself/whatever. Because it’s downbeat and beautiful and lonely, but still driving and melodic, that void was filled by Seam’s Am I Driving You Crazy, but that’s not my favorite Seam album. That title belongs to The Problem With Me, about which, I have often thought to myself, “I don’t understand how anyone could not like this album.”
I’m older now, and I do sort of understand how someone could not like The Problem With Me, although mostly I think it could be summed up by “bad taste.” Seam occupies a weird space in 90s indie rock – never really that popular, not quite sensitive enough to be emo, not quite loud enough to be post-punk, but some of the most beautiful use of guitars and space I’ve ever heard.
I remember being in the shower in the house I shared with my best friend at the time as he played “Bunch” as loudly as he could and just feeling the bass pass through my body as it slammed through the room. I remember seeing them live in Sacramento and being awed at Soo-Young Park’s pedal board. I remember seeing them in San Francisco and having my ears ring for days afterwards, and also spending several early morning hours in downtown SF due to having our car locked in the garage that we didn’t realize would lock up at 1am. I remember (obviously) getting a tattoo of the golf flag on the CD of The Problem With Me. I’m not super nostalgic about music in general, but listening to Seam always gets me, just a little.
