“I believe in the songs that I write,” says Joe Syverson, songwriter and singer for the rising Seattle rock group, Final Spins. Syverson is tall. He wears no socks and waits patiently for his tea to cool. His soft voice barely rises above the eclectic mix of music coming in over Mr. Spot’s Chai House’s jimmy-rigged sound system. “The songs work in themselves and no matter how we play them—we’ve played them a number of different ways over the months—they are good. They work.” To reference his idea of intrinsic musical goodness, he mentions The Kink’s “Lola.” “That song,” he says, “will always be good, no matter who plays it or when. It’s timeless. That’s how I try to write my songs.” He makes sure I know he does not write songs in a bubble, but neither does he let trends and The Hip Thing make him write songs a certain way. Joe Syverson is just trying not to go insane. The Final Spins’ debut album, “That Was Now/This Is Then,” (self-released) was put out with few vivid expectations. The group members have played music in various bands for a number of years. Syverson toured and played bass with Throw Me The Statue. Drummer Colin English also percusses for the hippie-rock group The Pica Beats. “We started jamming at a party back in May of 2008, playing a few songs I had written. It sounded good, I guess, so we just kept playing together, hanging out, having a good time.”That final phrase—“having a good time”—comes up often in our interview. Syverson has gone through too much, overcome addiction, tried to get his feet on the ground, kept taking one step after another in the right direction to let himself get torn apart for the sake of Capital A art. “You have to keep everything in perspective,” he says, still waiting for his tea to cool. “Sure, I try hard and am passionate about writing songs and playing music, but I am not going to beat myself up over it.” Syverson says he has numerous conversations with other songwriters about being able to let things go. “You can’t knock your head against a wall over and over and hope a song will show up from your pain. If I write and if something doesn’t come right away, I put it aside for a while. You can’t force it.” The dark and unorganized image on the cover of “This/Then” could make one think of a reflective album, a midnight homage to pain and confusion, an album based on Syverson’s time in the grips of addiction—a topic Syverson has no problem discussing. “Songs like ‘Battlewings’ and ‘Party Time’, nearly half the songs on the album, were written when I was using,” he says. “The other half, they were written after rehab and all of that. I learned that I don’t need to be depressed or under the influence to write good pop music. It has caused me to search other places within myself for inspiration.”There is a natural feeling in the recording of this debut album. When asked about the natural tendency to look for a label, Joe seems unexcited. He shrugs, “I think we just want to get it out there, you know.” Any success of the band does not show up on Joe’s face, but his even and realistic optimism in apparent. “We are going be doing shows outside of Seattle and we are all willing to do the work to get press, to play good shows, to meet people—but I want to always have fun playing music. Otherwise, you know, what’s the point killing yourself for an art that is always changing.” Syverson hopes to release a new EP from the band by September. He has worked hard to create new material, but remains always careful to keep his forehead from moving forcefully towards any walls. “I used to be very hard myself when I couldn’t write,” says Syverson, his tea still brewing in the white plaster on our painted table. “For a couple of years—I think around 2004 or so—when I didn’t touch a guitar.” Now, it seems that Syverson, along with his bandmates, plan to keep guitars handy at all times. They are eager to play, ready for fans that wish to have fun, less and less surprised by any attention they receive. “We played in Portland last week,” he says, finally taking a short sip, “and Isaac Brock and James Mercer were there. Isaac came up and told me that they set was great. That is an odd thing to hear from people who write songs you respect, that are people you respect.” Syverson smirks slightly then calmly changes subjects to something about getting back into skateboarding and his neighborhood in Madison Park. For a while after we shake hands and I walk towards the corner of Market Street and Leary, Joe sits alone at the table drinking the rest of his loose-leaf tea. He taps his feet that are inside blue sneakers but no socks.
