billy libby

Portland, Maine is a popular seafood cove. It's known for it's fantastic lobster, scallops and other sea delicacies, but the seafood isn't the only attractive feature Portland has to offer. Portland, Maine has a budding folk music scene that has nurtured several artists.

In a time when folk has been deemed dead, the city has held onto its Maine roots and preserved their folk ancestry, and become a haven for talent. "Portland is a great place to nurture, it's a womb to grow as an artist," said Billy Libby, an indie folk Portland artist who recently moved to Brooklyn. Libby just released his debut LP, entitled Pitter Patter which features his indie lullaby sounds.

Folk rock stars dress in Goodwill suits and wear sweaters that their moms got them for Christmas. The focus isn't on the glitz or the glamour, but the music, instead. "We're all about trying to reach people, not necessarily the top 40 charts," said the lead singer of The Milkman's Union. The Milkman's Union is also part of Portland, Maine's budding sphere of talented singer and songwriters. "A lot of artists have a desire to be popular, and unintentionally water down their music," he said. "We do it for the love of the music."

Compared to larger more metropolitan areas, smaller towns across the nation have musicians with passion and desire, equivalent to NYC and LA. "In Maine, we do it because we love it. It's a small town, and it's harder to get people out," said Sam Pfeifle, secretary and co-founder of the Portland Music Foundation. "You can't make someone like your music." - Huffington Post

Days from the start of CMJ's 2011 Music Marathon, Portland Music Foundation contest-winner Billy Libby chats about his evolving sound and being inspired by Sufjan Stevens, and hints at what's in store on his next EP. Billy Libby combines folk and pop music with and indie twist, and his most recent release, "Pitter Patter," came out September 20.

So, first off, how long have you been making music? Have you always known this was the sort of project you would want to work on?

I have been making music and writing songs since I was about 14. As soon as I learned a few chords I was feverishly writing songs. My first band Even All Out was a pop rock band that achieved a lot of local success and some national. Our album, "Things I Forgot to Say" had a single that was the #2 requested song of the year on Portland, Maine's alternative rock station in 2003. We also showcased for labels and played with national acts, as well as being on CMJ's top played college radio bands. The success of this band happened all right out of high school, and I felt pretty sure I would be on that path for a while. I fronted that band until 2005, but after losing some other founding members I called it quits with that, and took some time to figure out music, and my life in my early 20's. I did some solo recordings over the next few years, and also played in other bands, doing some touring nationally and internationally, but it took quite sometime for me to figure out what music meant to me, and how I wanted to pursue it.


Over those years I knew I wanted to make music that was intelligent and artistic, but felt very deep rooted in pop as well. I would not have guessed that the music I'd be making would necessarily sound like this, but I am very happy with the sound I have achieved and am very happy to have crafted a sound that encompasses the many different aspects I love about music.

Your first EP, "The Little Bird," has a very acoustic aesthetic, whereas "Pitter Patter,"your most recent release, has much more expansive arrangements. How do you account for this change in your sound?

It's actually kind of funny how that came about, and sort of confusing based on the sound of the two ep's and the order they were released. I actually started, and almost finished, the recordings for Pitter Patter, quite some time before recording The Little Bird. I always considered Pitter Patter to be the sound I was going for, but didn't want to officially release it until the time was right. The summer of 2010, I recorded The Little Bird with my guitar player as a quick EP to have something to get out into the world, while building my career as a solo artist. We had been playing a lot of shows as a duo, and decided to do some very stripped down recordings. So even though Pitter Patter came out later, it actually was recorded first. The same goes for my next EP I am finishing up, which was mostly done before Little Bird as well. Little Bird is actually acoustic stripped down versions of these songs as they were originally intended.

What bands and artists do you find yourself most influenced by as you write, play, and record music?

For this batch of songs, there are quite a few artists and bands that really had a huge affect on my music. As far as recording Pitter Patter, it was actually an article I read about Sufjan Stevens, and how he recorded one of his albums himself, using just a couple mics. I really love his music, and felt inspired to take the same approach. Musically I felt very inspired by and drew influence from bands like, Radiohead, Bon Iver and Blonde Redhead as far as how they arrange their music. As a guitar player I also draw a lot of influence from Kaki King.

I know you just released an album about a month ago, but what do you envision working on next? Do you see your next release as expanding on the fuller, more layered sound on "Pitter Patter," or returning to the simplicity of "Little Bird"?

I actually have at this point, a pretty clear idea of what's next. I recorded quite a few songs around the same time that I recorded Pitter Patter and at first planned on releasing a full length, but later decided on two EPs. So as of right now I am putting the finishing touches on another batch of songs, which are similar in arrangement to Pitter Patter, but a little more rhythmic and loop driven. I really look forward to recording a full length. Recording and writing for me are very specific and in order for me to do it I really need to let myself be consumed by it, so it may be some time until that happens again, but I can't wait until it does. I would also love to do some more stripped down recordings as well. As a solo artist, I play in many different band scenarios, anywhere from a duo to a 6 piece, and I love hearing the songs portrayed in different ways, so it's nice to get the different versions out there. All in all I feel that from now on I will just be letting the songs dictate themselves.

- The Examiner

Days from the start of CMJ's 2011 Music Marathon, Portland Music Foundation contest-winner Billy Libby chats about his evolving sound and being inspired by Sufjan Stevens, and hints at what's in store on his next EP. Billy Libby combines folk and pop music with and indie twist, and his most recent release, "Pitter Patter," came out September 20.

So, first off, how long have you been making music? Have you always known this was the sort of project you would want to work on?

I have been making music and writing songs since I was about 14. As soon as I learned a few chords I was feverishly writing songs. My first band Even All Out was a pop rock band that achieved a lot of local success and some national. Our album, "Things I Forgot to Say" had a single that was the #2 requested song of the year on Portland, Maine's alternative rock station in 2003. We also showcased for labels and played with national acts, as well as being on CMJ's top played college radio bands. The success of this band happened all right out of high school, and I felt pretty sure I would be on that path for a while. I fronted that band until 2005, but after losing some other founding members I called it quits with that, and took some time to figure out music, and my life in my early 20's. I did some solo recordings over the next few years, and also played in other bands, doing some touring nationally and internationally, but it took quite sometime for me to figure out what music meant to me, and how I wanted to pursue it.


Over those years I knew I wanted to make music that was intelligent and artistic, but felt very deep rooted in pop as well. I would not have guessed that the music I'd be making would necessarily sound like this, but I am very happy with the sound I have achieved and am very happy to have crafted a sound that encompasses the many different aspects I love about music.

Your first EP, "The Little Bird," has a very acoustic aesthetic, whereas "Pitter Patter,"your most recent release, has much more expansive arrangements. How do you account for this change in your sound?

It's actually kind of funny how that came about, and sort of confusing based on the sound of the two ep's and the order they were released. I actually started, and almost finished, the recordings for Pitter Patter, quite some time before recording The Little Bird. I always considered Pitter Patter to be the sound I was going for, but didn't want to officially release it until the time was right. The summer of 2010, I recorded The Little Bird with my guitar player as a quick EP to have something to get out into the world, while building my career as a solo artist. We had been playing a lot of shows as a duo, and decided to do some very stripped down recordings. So even though Pitter Patter came out later, it actually was recorded first. The same goes for my next EP I am finishing up, which was mostly done before Little Bird as well. Little Bird is actually acoustic stripped down versions of these songs as they were originally intended.

What bands and artists do you find yourself most influenced by as you write, play, and record music?

For this batch of songs, there are quite a few artists and bands that really had a huge affect on my music. As far as recording Pitter Patter, it was actually an article I read about Sufjan Stevens, and how he recorded one of his albums himself, using just a couple mics. I really love his music, and felt inspired to take the same approach. Musically I felt very inspired by and drew influence from bands like, Radiohead, Bon Iver and Blonde Redhead as far as how they arrange their music. As a guitar player I also draw a lot of influence from Kaki King.

I know you just released an album about a month ago, but what do you envision working on next? Do you see your next release as expanding on the fuller, more layered sound on "Pitter Patter," or returning to the simplicity of "Little Bird"?

I actually have at this point, a pretty clear idea of what's next. I recorded quite a few songs around the same time that I recorded Pitter Patter and at first planned on releasing a full length, but later decided on two EPs. So as of right now I am putting the finishing touches on another batch of songs, which are similar in arrangement to Pitter Patter, but a little more rhythmic and loop driven. I really look forward to recording a full length. Recording and writing for me are very specific and in order for me to do it I really need to let myself be consumed by it, so it may be some time until that happens again, but I can't wait until it does. I would also love to do some more stripped down recordings as well. As a solo artist, I play in many different band scenarios, anywhere from a duo to a 6 piece, and I love hearing the songs portrayed in different ways, so it's nice to get the different versions out there. All in all I feel that from now on I will just be letting the songs dictate themselves.

- The Examiner

Since the mainstream commoditization of the traditional folk movement in the mid-60’s, acts like Simon and Garfunkel and Bon Iver have relied heavily upon crafting folk-pop albums that hope to recall scenes of autumnal and pastoral landscapes. On USM graduate Billy Libby’s new “Little Bird” EP, this trend has been all but abandoned with a four-song collection that relies on a perfect mixture of pop-music craftsmanship and candid intimacy.
The first song, “What’s There’s Still There,” sets the track of the overall sonic aestheticism for the album. Songs of urban isolation and personal reflection are hauntingly paired with sparse acoustic accompaniment for a strikingly melancholy narrative: “And now I find my self seated beside what I left behind; it took me three months time/Next we stepped outside to see the sun/Spring was quick to come/Perhaps too soon for some.”
For some listeners, the substance of “Little Bird” will hit a little too close to home, but that is Libby’s greatest strength as a songwriter; it is a meditative practice for the artist, that allows anyone listening to feel a personal and immediate connection with his music. This is exceedingly apparent in the track “Dearest Gwen, Do You Love Me?”
With the same unapologetically retrospective lyrics present in the rest of the EP, “Dearest Gwen…” illustrates the uncomfortable contemplation that anyone experiences when reconnecting, even momentarily, with someone they once shared their lives with on a personal level.
Feelings of nostalgic idealization are countered with self-assured convictions and wash over the song, as the songwriter is urging himself to not give in and just push through the anguish of the reconnection: “Dearest Gwen, I’m so glad you’re here/Maybe we should hop the pond just once more?/But I know, I know we will never get this back, we will never get this back.”
Libby’s dismissal of previous conceptions of what a folk-pop record should sound like comes together in a four-song collection of tracks that connect with the listener, serving the ultimate role of any EP: leaving the listener wanting more. - The Free Press

Since the mainstream commoditization of the traditional folk movement in the mid-60’s, acts like Simon and Garfunkel and Bon Iver have relied heavily upon crafting folk-pop albums that hope to recall scenes of autumnal and pastoral landscapes. On USM graduate Billy Libby’s new “Little Bird” EP, this trend has been all but abandoned with a four-song collection that relies on a perfect mixture of pop-music craftsmanship and candid intimacy.
The first song, “What’s There’s Still There,” sets the track of the overall sonic aestheticism for the album. Songs of urban isolation and personal reflection are hauntingly paired with sparse acoustic accompaniment for a strikingly melancholy narrative: “And now I find my self seated beside what I left behind; it took me three months time/Next we stepped outside to see the sun/Spring was quick to come/Perhaps too soon for some.”
For some listeners, the substance of “Little Bird” will hit a little too close to home, but that is Libby’s greatest strength as a songwriter; it is a meditative practice for the artist, that allows anyone listening to feel a personal and immediate connection with his music. This is exceedingly apparent in the track “Dearest Gwen, Do You Love Me?”
With the same unapologetically retrospective lyrics present in the rest of the EP, “Dearest Gwen…” illustrates the uncomfortable contemplation that anyone experiences when reconnecting, even momentarily, with someone they once shared their lives with on a personal level.
Feelings of nostalgic idealization are countered with self-assured convictions and wash over the song, as the songwriter is urging himself to not give in and just push through the anguish of the reconnection: “Dearest Gwen, I’m so glad you’re here/Maybe we should hop the pond just once more?/But I know, I know we will never get this back, we will never get this back.”
Libby’s dismissal of previous conceptions of what a folk-pop record should sound like comes together in a four-song collection of tracks that connect with the listener, serving the ultimate role of any EP: leaving the listener wanting more. - The Free Press

Billy Libby's new EP, Pitter Patter, is such a step forward for him that I half expected he'd have slapped the name William Elizabeth on the packaging. (He's heard that one before, certainly.) The care and attention to detail with which he's put it together is unmistakable. The songs, the playing, the style are all enough to grab your attention, but this is a whole-package kind of attraction.

It's the aesthetic. A chilling warmth. A fuzzy crispness. There's something he's doing that just makes you want to listen, even though it can sometimes be hard to pick out a lyric or a hook or anything in particular that's going to make you sit up and take notice.

I was pretty well hooked from the open. "Bus Ride" starts with growing strings from Lauren Hastings (violin) and Emily Dix Thomas (cello), then moves into a gentle waltz, with the feel of the alps lent by chiming bells, and the lovely pairing of Libby's and Erin Sprinkle's (Plains) vocals. They sing nearly the entire thing in tandem, before a cool little trade-off piece:

Billy: "My plan is scribbling, I am"

Erin: "Writing a letter to myself"

Both: "Addressed to no one, really, no one, really."

Then there's lots of ethereal "ooh-oooh" stuff into the finish. It's very pretty, and Stu Mahan bowing the upright bass provides a nice bottom end onto which all of that light and airy stuff can hang.

That Libby recorded much of this whole album by himself is impressive, but he had help. Sean Morin (Cambiata, Daro) does a lot of things well and his fingerprints are all over this. He plays ukulele on "Bus Ride," guitar elsewhere, with some organ and percussion and vocals throughout. Old Cambiata friend Miguel Barajas lends a lead to "Leaves." Sprinkle gets co-writing credit on the three songs where we hear her wonderfully complementary vocals.

As with all of these solo projects populated by any number of Portland's talented musicians-for-hire/friends, there's a temptation to wonder just what the guy with his name on the record actually did. Bring in some demos on acoustic guitar and let the talent go to work writing their parts and laying down tracks to make him look impressive?

Sometimes, that's certainly the case. Here? Libby's stamp is awfully hard to shake. The bells he plays. The percussion. His resonant bass drum in "Leaves." The shaker that pops into the right then the left channel for just a couple of pops at the beginning of "Blue Eyed" that's such a nice touch for the headphones wearers. The clacking four-beat piece of percussion that wends its way into "The Winter Song."

There are so many elegant touches here, it's hard to believe this is anything other than the culmination of a vision that lots of people were willing to get behind.

There's definitely an air of Sufjan Stevens, as at the beginning of "The Dirtiest Spots" and where the EP gets its name — "The Constant pitter patter of a leaking kitchen sink" — before it gets slightly more aggressive and driving: "It's the transparent sea/Makes it easier to forget they're here/I tend to ignore, but sink a little more/To the dampest dank and dirtiest spots on this apartment floor."

There's also some Sondre Lerche in Libby's melancholy lilt, so that things are sometimes poppy but always in a way that's doesn't seem like it's in much of a hurry. That's the bit that sounds like Elliott Smith, too, especially when Libby reaches for a falsetto, as you'll hear in "Leaves." But with the complexity of the arrangement it's more of an album that draws on bits and pieces from artists without living firmly in a genre or seeming to mimic anyone.

The lyrics are worth listening for, too. "Dirtiest Spots," really the catchiest thing you'll find here, but not coming close to Libby's Even All Out days (their record was released back in 2003, if you can believe it), finds him soaring up for a bridge that includes the nice line, "I seem to have a knack for being the straw that breaks the camel's back." In "Winter Song," "all's well that/Weathers the storm." I found myself agreeing with that sentiment.

There will certainly be some who find the disc a little sleepy, especially if they're not keen on listening for the nuances and have some kind of expectations dating back to Libby's earlier work. He doesn't strain his vocal chords or make himself too prominent, but rather stands at the top of a layered foundation.

It's likely he can use this as a jumping off point. It's the kind of music that would sound great on a soundtrack (I kept thinking of The Squid and the Whale), backing a thoughtful movie where people get moody from time to time. Or maybe Parenthood on the telly.

Libby tells a story just with his sound here, and it's a story you may well want read to you again and again.
- The Phoenix - Boston

Billy Libby's new EP, Pitter Patter, is such a step forward for him that I half expected he'd have slapped the name William Elizabeth on the packaging. (He's heard that one before, certainly.) The care and attention to detail with which he's put it together is unmistakable. The songs, the playing, the style are all enough to grab your attention, but this is a whole-package kind of attraction.

It's the aesthetic. A chilling warmth. A fuzzy crispness. There's something he's doing that just makes you want to listen, even though it can sometimes be hard to pick out a lyric or a hook or anything in particular that's going to make you sit up and take notice.

I was pretty well hooked from the open. "Bus Ride" starts with growing strings from Lauren Hastings (violin) and Emily Dix Thomas (cello), then moves into a gentle waltz, with the feel of the alps lent by chiming bells, and the lovely pairing of Libby's and Erin Sprinkle's (Plains) vocals. They sing nearly the entire thing in tandem, before a cool little trade-off piece:

Billy: "My plan is scribbling, I am"

Erin: "Writing a letter to myself"

Both: "Addressed to no one, really, no one, really."

Then there's lots of ethereal "ooh-oooh" stuff into the finish. It's very pretty, and Stu Mahan bowing the upright bass provides a nice bottom end onto which all of that light and airy stuff can hang.

That Libby recorded much of this whole album by himself is impressive, but he had help. Sean Morin (Cambiata, Daro) does a lot of things well and his fingerprints are all over this. He plays ukulele on "Bus Ride," guitar elsewhere, with some organ and percussion and vocals throughout. Old Cambiata friend Miguel Barajas lends a lead to "Leaves." Sprinkle gets co-writing credit on the three songs where we hear her wonderfully complementary vocals.

As with all of these solo projects populated by any number of Portland's talented musicians-for-hire/friends, there's a temptation to wonder just what the guy with his name on the record actually did. Bring in some demos on acoustic guitar and let the talent go to work writing their parts and laying down tracks to make him look impressive?

Sometimes, that's certainly the case. Here? Libby's stamp is awfully hard to shake. The bells he plays. The percussion. His resonant bass drum in "Leaves." The shaker that pops into the right then the left channel for just a couple of pops at the beginning of "Blue Eyed" that's such a nice touch for the headphones wearers. The clacking four-beat piece of percussion that wends its way into "The Winter Song."

There are so many elegant touches here, it's hard to believe this is anything other than the culmination of a vision that lots of people were willing to get behind.

There's definitely an air of Sufjan Stevens, as at the beginning of "The Dirtiest Spots" and where the EP gets its name — "The Constant pitter patter of a leaking kitchen sink" — before it gets slightly more aggressive and driving: "It's the transparent sea/Makes it easier to forget they're here/I tend to ignore, but sink a little more/To the dampest dank and dirtiest spots on this apartment floor."

There's also some Sondre Lerche in Libby's melancholy lilt, so that things are sometimes poppy but always in a way that's doesn't seem like it's in much of a hurry. That's the bit that sounds like Elliott Smith, too, especially when Libby reaches for a falsetto, as you'll hear in "Leaves." But with the complexity of the arrangement it's more of an album that draws on bits and pieces from artists without living firmly in a genre or seeming to mimic anyone.

The lyrics are worth listening for, too. "Dirtiest Spots," really the catchiest thing you'll find here, but not coming close to Libby's Even All Out days (their record was released back in 2003, if you can believe it), finds him soaring up for a bridge that includes the nice line, "I seem to have a knack for being the straw that breaks the camel's back." In "Winter Song," "all's well that/Weathers the storm." I found myself agreeing with that sentiment.

There will certainly be some who find the disc a little sleepy, especially if they're not keen on listening for the nuances and have some kind of expectations dating back to Libby's earlier work. He doesn't strain his vocal chords or make himself too prominent, but rather stands at the top of a layered foundation.

It's likely he can use this as a jumping off point. It's the kind of music that would sound great on a soundtrack (I kept thinking of The Squid and the Whale), backing a thoughtful movie where people get moody from time to time. Or maybe Parenthood on the telly.

Libby tells a story just with his sound here, and it's a story you may well want read to you again and again.
- The Phoenix - Boston