In our life journey we humans have a tendency to find specific ways of thought to help us make sense of the world, to help us make sense of ourselves, and to help us feel we have a reason for existing.

Many of us default to religion to give us explanation and meaning. Caleb, a prominent Seattle musician and member local band The Resets, uses music to make sense of his life, of where he desires to go, and ultimately to explain his fragmented and fascinating past.

Music has always been in Caleb’s sweat and blood. I didn’t have to hear his life story to feel how much music meant to him, how much it was a part of him as a person. At the start of the interview, upon his Frankenstein fashioned home stereo, Caleb played me a linear time-line of his progression as a recording musician. Each time the next song of his would play, his eyes would gloss over and I would witness him time-travel many years back to memories I can only imagine.

He did share one of his memories: his first experience recording was in a bathroom with only his voice and a guitar wailing against the tiled walls.

In high school he played in a lot of jazz groups, he acted a lot, and was always exploring with different musical genres. His lust for playing on stage started when he was asked to be a back-up band for a choir that played a lot of Simon and Garfunkel and Bob Dylan type of tunes.
In 1999, Caleb, began to lay the groundwork for his story, the story of an aspiring musician. The day he chose was random. It became special when he hopped on an Amtrak train from Nowhere, Wisconsin to Seattle. All he had was his grandfathers’ old army duffel bag, his guitar, 80 bucks and the Elvis Costello record, My Aim is True.

After his impromptu arrival in Seattle, Caleb began an energetic exploration into Political Folk.  With this exploration came the creation of his first recording, and soon to follow, his first full record: Un-American. Benefited by his university studies of English and Linguistics, the lyrics in Caleb’s songs were less about his own personal life and more about the human condition; a condition shared by anyone and everyone who would ever hear his music.

After the release of Un-American, Caleb began recording with a fury. After many studio hours (and financial hook-ups from generous friends and fans) his second album, a more subdued and articulate musical journey, christened Flow Ewe was conceived.

Caleb never released this album, at the obvious regret of his supporters and fans. For Caleb, this album was a cathartic release of past demons, demons he did not think the public would appreciate. The album was buried (in his back yard, as legend would have it.) With the past securely buries behind him, Caleb moved on, both as a musician, and as a person.
The next few years are a blur of releases and records exploring everything from abstract rock all the way to experimental electronica of dark and sinister proportion. His electronic pursuit of distortion and emotions was a visceral reaction to the intense Seattle drug scene tearing apart the lives of many of his close friends.

Fast-forwarding to the present: Caleb is now the rocking member of the diverse and eclectic band The Resets. He is also involved in other side-projects, one important one being his bluegrass Irish folk revival band called Caleb and Walter.

To get to the musical place in life where The Resets could be formed―due much to the support of local bands Kled and A Gun That Shoots Knives―Caleb had to learn the hard way that people just want to have fun and not have ideas shoved down their throats all the time. With a tired, but informed drawl, Caleb explained to me that, “Sometimes music does not have to be so dark and philosophical, sometimes music should just be silly, y’know? Light-hearted, and stuff. It should be something you wanna’ move too, laugh with, and dance to all night.”

And this is exactly where The Resets are: a rockin’ band that not only has the fine talent of shaking people on the dance floor, but also the rare ability to span a wide multitude of musical genres with flair and proper punch.

In The Resets you will hear a little Seattle music history, as well as shards of the beautiful and intangible force called: humanity, along with some nonsensical good times about flamingos and reckless horse-ranchers.