Sam Moss Announces "Swimming" LP & Shares Title Track

There’s a photograph of Sam Moss taken several years ago through an elaborate stained-glass window of a 170-year-old church turned venue in the Catskills. Sam’s on stage and framed by the corner of the lower half of the window, which is open on a tilt. It renders him diminutive and slightly out of focus, but the eye seeks and finds him, fixing him in view.

I can’t hear Sam’s music without this photograph coming to mind. (I admit that I took it.) He’s an excellent guitarist, a serious and thoughtful songwriter, and a confident, at times daring, singer. Yet all of Sam’s records—and most of all his newest, the exquisite Swimming<pfseg id="0"> – ti o ti tẹsiwaju lati ṣeto daradara ati ki o pọju awọn ipo fun awọn ẹya ara ẹni – iroyin ati iṣoro pẹlu iyanu ati iyanu, iyanu ati iyanu, irorun ati irorun – ti o ni anfani lati gbọdọ siwaju siwaju sii ju iru Sam Moss nipasẹ ki o ko fi o lati fi o si awọn agbegbe. O le fi awọn iroyin iyanu pe o ti wa ni ibi awọn iwe-aṣẹ rẹ ni diẹ ninu ọkan lati fi, ṣugbọn pe o jẹ awọn iṣeduro rẹ ti awọn iwe-aṣẹ rẹ ti o jẹ, ṣugbọn o jẹ awọn iṣeduro kan ti o wa, ṣugbọn Sam – Sam ṣe – gbe “I held  

<pfseg id="0">Ati pe Mo le fi si awọn aworan ti Sam lẹkan siwaju sii. Nibẹ ni o ko fi awọn oniwe-iwe wọn. O ni a modest ati ki o kan gbọdọ gbọdọ. Mo ti wa ni gbọdọ lati fi yi ninu awọn apakan si Yankeedom rẹ—New England-gbọdọ, ṣugbọn o ba wa ni Virginia bayi— ati awọn pataki, iyanu granite reserve ti o wa pẹlu eyi agbegbe, sibẹsibẹ Mo tun wa ni ẹlẹsẹ lati ṣe iṣeduro awọn agbara rẹ pẹlu agbegbe-gbọdọ romanticism. Mo gbọdọ fẹ o, bi Emerson, Moss ká “ọrọ ni awọn igi”, ṣugbọn awọn wọnyi yoo jẹ bi ọpọlọpọ Central

Swimming” was written one summer within earshot of the Atlantic Ocean, but I am not a particularly good swimmer and it is perhaps unsurprisingly not a song literally about swimming. I guess it may take its inspiration from my mediocre swimming abilities, but it is really more of an incomplete treatise on holding contradictions within the self. I don’t know that I’ve ever written a song that so plainly states its thesis in the chorus, which makes me somewhat uncomfortable.

<pfseg id="0">Gẹgẹbi ọpọlọpọ awọn ọpọlọpọ awọn ọpọlọpọ awọn ọpọlọpọ awọn ọpọlọpọ awọn ọpọlọpọ awọn ọpọlọpọ awọn ọpọlọpọ awọn ọpọlọpọ awọn ọpọlọpọ awọn ọpọlọpọ awọn ọpọlọpọ awọn ọpọlọpọ awọn ọpọlọpọ awọn ọpọlọpọ awọn ọpọlọpọ awọn ọpọlọpọ awọn ọpọlọpọ awọn ọpọlọpọ awọn ọpọlọpọ awọn ọpọlọpọ awọn ọpọlọpọ awọn ọpọlọpọ awọn ọpọlọpọ awọn ọpọlọpọ awọn ọpọlọpọ awọn ọpọlọpọ awọn ọpọlọpọ awọn ọpọlọpọ awọn ọpọlọpọ awọn ọpọlọpọ awọn ọpọlọpọ awọn ọpọlọpọ awọn ọpọlọpọ awọn ọpọlọpọ awọn ọpọlọpọ awọn ọpọlọpọ awọn