People often ask us how to pronounce our band name.

Is it SHAY-mus? SHY-mus? Shay-moose? Shy-moose?

The last one is my favorite. If that was how to say our name, we could have a very bashful-looking moose as our mascot. Alas, it is incorrect.

The correct pronunciation is the first one: shay-mus, said identical to the Irish name spelled Seamus. That’s usually how people say our name, but I don’t blame anyone for being a little unsure. We did choose to spell it in a slightly odd way.

But I decided to give you all a little help in case you forget. I’ve drawn up a cartoon to illustrate what we are not:

There. That should settle it once and for all!

Because I recently got the opportunity to have an artist endorsement with one of my favorite guitar manufacturers, Music Man, I decided to make room for a new addition to my guitar lineup by selling one of my current guitars. After some deliberating, soul-searching and a few games of Tetris, I decided to bid a fond farewell to Sparky, my trusty Music Man Luke model guitar, seen here:

Sparky, which I named after its beautiful Black Sparkle finish (I tend to name all my guitars based on their color), has been a mainstay for me both live and in the studio. I’ve used it on the recordings of most of the “signature” Shaimus songs (”All Of This,” “Like a Fool,” “Tie You Down,” and many others). But the fact was that I always felt something lacking in various aspects of that guitar for my personal style, so I decided it was time to set it free. (I did make a note of the serial number just in case I run into it again someday!)

So the guitar I got to replace Sparky is far more ideal for me in many ways. It is a Music Man Albert Lee HH (double DiMarzio humbucker) model, in tobacco sunburst finish, with a vintage white pearloid pickguard, African mahogany body, and all-rosewood neck.

This is “Sunny:”

It complements my other main guitar, an Albert Lee model (in pearl blue, appropriately named “Pearl”) with three Seymour Duncan single coil pickups, an ash body and an all birdseye maple neck, in so many ways–they both have the same body shape (a very odd and unique angular cut which I love) and neck style which gives me some uniformity on stage. And because they are so different otherwise, I have a wide variety of sounds to choose from.

Sunny and Pearl will make a great team. And there’s also Sonic, the Fender Mustang that was the first guitar I ever bought, but it doesn’t see too much action these days (semi-retired from battle after serving me very well during my high school years).

Thanks to Derek at Music Man for helping to make this happen.  When I opened the case for the first time I actually got chills!  I plan to debut Sunny on stage in Seattle next week. Can’t wait for you all to hear her!

A long time ago, I was constantly receiving requests for “All Of This” guitar tabs. So I gave in to peer pressure and transcribed my part note for note into tab form. Well, almost… I skipped one section of my solo because I played so recklessly on the recording that I just didn’t feel like figuring out every note that was there. But everything that I did transcribe was perfectly accurate.

Everything, that is, except for one single chord.

I unintentionally included an incorrect B minor chord toward the end of the B section:

D    -   E   –   Bm    -    Em
(Take me where my heart says yes…)

Not only that, but I realized at the time that I had been playing that part of the song wrong myself for months. For reasons possibly akin to a game of “Whisper Down the Lane” (or “Telephone” for some of you kids out there), that one chord slowly transformed from a B5 power chord to a Bm in my mind and my fingers over the course of months of playing the song live.

It didn’t matter too much at our live show, which mostly consisted of loud noises in tiny rock clubs which masked any minor wrong notes in a rocker like “All Of This,” a song that wouldn’t win any awards for nuance or subtlety. And it made sense that in a song filled with so many chord changes I might let one little detail slip my mind. So I went back and changed the tab (which was on our website at the time) to a B major, the correct chord.

But it was too late. The original had already been spread to many guitar tab sites across the web, and the B minor was there to stay, forever nagging at me. So to let my troubled mind rest a little easier, I’m taking this opportunity to set the record straight: if you’re playing that B minor, you’re playing the song incorrectly.

There. It feels good to clear the air.

On May 1st, Shaimus made our very first appearance at the Whisky a Go Go, one of the most legendary rock clubs on the Sunset Strip.  The Doors, Motley Crue, and Guns ‘n’ Roses have all called the Whisky home with residencies there in the past, and a huge list of other notable bands have graced its stage over the decades.

We’re happy to add ourselves to that list and can only hope that someday we’ll be looked at as another “notable” example.  It was a beautiful Saturday night, and although we were squeezed between many other bands, we felt welcome and at home on stage thanks to over a hundred fans who came out to see us.

The only problem of the night?  We sold more tickets than the venue gave us to sell, and we had to scramble for more at the last second.  But that was a wonderful problem to have.  Selling out the Whisky a Go Go is certainly a musical highlight for us so far, and it didn’t hurt that the crowd was SO cool, as usual.  So we decided to treat them all with the debut of a brand new song, “Without a Sound.”  A little thank you from all of us.

Until next time, Hollywood…

When I used to read stories of the glory years of rock ‘n’ roll, I couldn’t help but lament the lack of a “scene” there seems to be these days.  When Eric Clapton would come tour America, he’d hang out with Hendrix in New York City, where they’d roam around with their guitars strapped to their backs and pop into smokey clubs just to jam with whoever happened to be around.  Back in England, the bars he frequented were populated by the likes of Pete Townshend and Mick Jagger well before any of them were household names.  When Motley Crue played at the Whiskey A Go Go in the early ’80s, the Sunset Strip was a community party.  The whole LA music scene seemed like a big leather pants-wearing, blow-snorting family.

This isn’t to say I wish that Shaimus shows were knee-deep in cocaine.  I don’t.  (I don’t want leather pants, either.)  But the fact is, I have long felt that there has been a lack of fellowship among bands lately.  The days of bands that stuck it out together in their town, offering support and companionship as they all worked toward that common goal of musical euphoria have seemingly begun dying out as technology has slowly moved the majority of band members’ time from the streets and into cyberspace.  It’s not that there is no fellowship at all, but there is a lot less of it–we’ve noticed this as we try to build relationships with like-minded, talented bands that will stick this brutal industry out with us.

As I mentioned, part of this lack of conviviality is due to the Internet.  Whoring yourself out on the web is a prerequisite for any band’s success these days (ourselves included), and while it can be great to reach so many more fans that you never could before, it can be so easy to get lost in the mix.  It’s not hard to drown in a sea of faceless bands with MySpace pages.

But as I sat around complaining about something I couldn’t change, I soon realized something: this vast, uncontrollable deluge of musicians doing whatever they feel like–this complete and utter worldwide anarchy that has been unfolding before our very eyes–is the very essence of rock ‘n’ roll in modern times.

Artists are doing everything they can to stick it to the man and do things their way.  Bands are doing more on their own without the help of the suits than anyone could have imagined even ten years ago.  Major labels are literally crumbling around us as bands are finding the empowerment and personal resourcefulness not only to get their music heard by the masses, but to personally play a hand in the downfall of the very corporate entities that have tried to control rock music for decades.  Bands aren’t looking for record deals as much anymore.  Instead they are doing their craft on their own terms without being at the whim of the labels.  Rock music’s essential spirit has been one of rebellion, of taking on the people who were so uptight as to think that a backbeat was going to cause kids to go crazy and destroy the moral world.  (And what a “moral” world it is in the first place!)

Major labels are just becoming another casualty in the battle to keep rock and roll in line.  That’s always going to be a losing fight in the long run.  And it’s not even as though I wouldn’t want to sign a contract with a major label.  Under the right circumstances, I certainly would.  The point I’m trying to make here is that there is a scene, even if it’s not quite the same as it was before.  Things are always going to change and evolve, and will continue to do so.  Remember when TV networks didn’t want to show Elvis from the waist down so that kids wouldn’t be corrupted by his sexual, gyrating hips?  The anarchy of music on the Internet is today’s Elvis hips.

Yep, the music scene just isn’t what it used to be.  And it’s a scene that I’m proud to be a part of.

Inspiration comes in myriad forms.  The many facets of life during one’s personal pursuit of happiness have more than enough fuel for the inner fire.  That makes for a medley of possibilities that may spur a guy like me to write a song or play a guitar part.  Besides the strictly musical, here are a few things that spark my flame.

Amplifier volume knobs
Speaking in volumes, when done in a manner not detrimental to your ears’ physical health, can be like straight visceral moonshine.  Guitar tones gain nuance, transparency and immediacy with each ascending number of the volume knob.  My guitar becomes the tool, my amp the channel, as whatever is inside me at that moment gets spewed forth unceremoniously from the speaker cone and into the ears and, hopefully, hearts of the listener.  If all goes well, I can pass on my inspiration (and maybe a little attitude) to you.  I don’t care if the neighbors complain.

Extended road trips
Despite their tendency to expel greenhouse gases into the atmosphere, I often feel one with the universe in my car with the windows down, music blaring, sunshine warming my face, barreling through the wilderness at speeds I can’t reach with my body alone.  Prolong this experience, add some ever-changing scenery for a constantly fresh perspective, maybe include a few riding mates, and soak in the pleasures of life.  This is the inspiration of the road trip, often exemplified by a rock band’s shoestring tour.

Dented bottle caps
It may not be the caps themselves so much.  But the image of a delicately bent bottle cap so often accompanies a conversation to challenge the mind’s exploratory capacities.  The gentle hum of a jukebox tune hovering over the warm scent of Irish pub food.  Inquisitive minds scattered in a circular pattern as one smile gives way to another, camaraderie uniting them if only for a moment’s time.  The cool, crisp flavor of hops and malted barley lubricating both the taste buds and the social curiosity.  Maybe a half-empty bottle of Jameson showing that nobody is concerned with how sharply this memory will be retained.  This is inspiration in the truth of the now.

What inspires you?

It may not have been a massive, globe-spanning excursion, but it’s always fun to hit the road if only for a short time.  Here are a few more pictures from our tour up the West coast earlier this month!

Rocking out on a teeny stage at Ella Street Social Club in Portland.

While Steve, Phil and Cam were at the NACA conference, Lou, Johannes and I occupied ourselves with various tasks, such as learning how to milk a goat.  Yep, seriously.

Just about to leave Portland, Here we are being super-cool rock stars in front of my mom’s house.  She pretended to enjoy putting up with the six of us invading her nice, new place.

Cam preparing for our show at Nectar Lounge in Seattle. A ton of people were there. Seattle rocks.

If America had an official photo, it would probably be this one involving a Swedish guy standing in front of a glowing Seattle skyline.  At least he has a green card.

Gathered in Cam’s basement in Seattle to watch “Left to Dry” on the CW show “One Tree Hill.” We were the second song played, and we had the honor of accompanying Sophia Bush’s “I might be pregnant” bomb.

Last night we finally got to be on stage again for the first time in months, this time at one of our favorite venues, The Troubadour.  We had never played there before, and everyone kept telling us that the sound in the audience was the best it’s ever been at one of our shows.  The turn out was amazing, the show went off without a hitch, and special thanks to Lou for kicking ass on guitar as former Shaimus axe-wielder Dave Middleton got his first experience from the other side of the stage at a Shaimus show (which was really weird, but also fun to hear him cheering us on).

It’s good to be back.  Many thanks to everyone who came out!  The setlist looked a little something like this:

Let Go
All Of This
All The Good Ways
Don’t Want the Story
Tie You Down
Like a Fool
Stuck Around
Left to Dry
Turn the Other Way
Interview > Knights of Cydonia
While We’re Young

E: Everlong