Isolate And Medicate Seether

• 1 See You At The Bottom 03:38
• 2 Same Damn Life 03:20
• 3 Words As Weapons 04:01
• 4 My Disaster 04:34
• 5 Crash 03:41
• 6 Suffer It All 03:55
• 7 Watch Me Drown 03:10
• 8 Nobody Praying For Me 03:19
• 9 Keep The Dogs At Bay 04:26
• 10 Save Today 04:48
• 11 Turn Around 04:15
• 12 Burn The World 03:38
• 13 Goodbye Tonight 03:22
• 14 Weak 03:48
• Total Runtime 53:55

Info for Isolate And Medicate

On their sixth full-length album „Isolate and Medicate“, multi-platinum alternative rock trio Seether strip their trademark melodic thrash to its core and deliver the most poignant, passionate, and powerful record of their illustrious career. With rigorous minimalism and maturity, chief songwriter Shaun Morgan – long one of rock’s most unheralded melodists, has become a composer of deep emotion and clear-eyed vulnerability. The band too has developed into one of rock’s most fearsome units, playing with precision, grit and authority, yet still light on their feet. After 15+ years of hardscrabble success, it’s evident that Seether felt like survival was not enough. They had something to prove with this new album – somewhere farther to go.

One reason for the new approach must surely be Seether’s close partnership with ace producer Brendan O’Brien (Springsteen, Pearl Jam). More like a member of the band than a hired gun, O’Brien repeatedly championed Morgan as one of music’s most gifted songwriters and vocalists and Seether as one of rock’s most extraordinary bands. His unrelenting faith in their talent and potential has been something of a North Star for Seether, helping them struggle through and outlast some very dark times.

Shaun Morgan, vocals, guitar
Dale Stewart, bass, backing vocals
John Humphrey, drums

Produced by Brendan O'Brien

Seether
After forming in 1999, Seether (originally Saron Gas, a name they plucked from the back of a sound effects CD not knowing its sinister connotation) quickly gained notoriety in their home country's anemic rock market. The band's South African release, Fragile, became one of the best selling titles of the year, and Seether emerged as a top live draw. This was no small feat in a land where rock bands play second banana to indigenous music and pop. Still, Seether's monumental mongrel rock couldn't help but stand out, and Morgan's words built a bottomless bond between the band and its fans.

Everyone from disenfranchised teens to incarcerated individuals has felt his influence, but the foremost example is the impact first single "Fine Again" had on a family whose daughter overdosed. The song a stark, mid-tempo deliberation on life after a bleak period inspired the recuperating girl to right her life. The family bonded with the band and reacted emotionally upon learning Seether was headed stateside. "They were actually crying. That was the most surreal experience. They're all standing around and saying, 'We don't know if we should be happy for you or angry at you' and that's pretty cool. It's good to know we've had such a positive influence on someone."

Morgan's motivation and inspiration stems from a lack of acceptance. His parents divorced early on. His Afrikaans mother's devout Christian family held him in disregard because he was part English on his father's side. His paternal family shunned him for being into rock music and dressing the part. The hostile environs culminated in a defining moment, as Morgan sat with a gun in one hand and a guitar in the other, facing a choice. "It was suicide or the guitar. I picked the guitar and got rid of the urge to take myself out." He continued sneaking out to rehearse with any band that would have him. "This was all I ever wanted to do," he says simply.

Disclaimer, produced by Jay Baumgardner (Papa Roach, Drowning Pool) offers a brutally transparent glimpse into Morgan's childhood. As he scrubs at the pain of his past, the singer's scratchy, eerily familiar voice and his guitar work are cutting accomplices to the catharsis. The sum effect is as thrilling as it is consuming.

"Pig" picks at familial scabs, asking, "have you ever wished for fire/to burn away your mind restraints?" "Needles" rails further, demanding retribution, "Let me stick my needles in/let me hurt you again/fuck you for killing me!" over a torrid, towering wall of noise. "69 Tea" mocks salvation in a slow, rolling boil. "Gasoline" chugs and churns and spits at a woman who could be a lover or a mother it's impossible to tell. Therein lies a key to Seether's appeal: Morgan balks at expanding on his lyrics, opting to preserve both his own, and the listener's, interpretation. In his mind, offering one static explanation would dictate the effect on the listener which is simply unacceptable.

"I'm not trying to be a spokesman, because I wouldn't want to have a spokesman myself. This is a way for me to say how I feel now and get it out. Other people will paint something or draw something or dance it out or whatever. This, I suppose, is the only way I can purge, but it is therapeutic."

His convalescence manifests supremely in song and is chiefly evident in the cautious optimism of "Fine Again" and the plaintive, yet soaring, "Sympathetic," in which he sings "My words will be here when I'm gone." Even at this embryonic state, Morgan has made his statement and it bodes well, as the band waits on the cusp of success. Through it all, he remains the humble craftsman, ego and expectations in check - words preserved for posterity despite no immediate plans to depart the planet. Of course, he's happy to know he's made a difference.

"Even if it's just one or two people that say, 'Man, it's really sad that he's gone,' that's all I wanted to hear."

Booklet for Isolate And Medicate