Free Times: The Playlist-Perfect Sounds Forever written by Pat Wall

Perfect Sound Forever: The storefront of the former Rosewood Drive branch of Sounds Familiar sits empty, save for a few posters. Owned by Pete Smolen, Sounds Familiar was a seminal Columbia record store for more than three decades before shuttering in early 2009; when it closed down, it left Travis Bland and Preach Jacobs, two longtime employees, out of work. Both had ended up at the Rosewood location after the Parklane Road branch shut down. The Parklane branch is in rough shape; its brick-and-glass façade is covered in graffiti.

“If I drive down Parklane,” Jacobs says, “I have to go out of my way to not see it. It hurts that much.”

So when Bland and Jacobs decided earlier in the year to start a record label, they didn’t have to think long and hard for a name.

A few months and a blessing from Smolen later, Sounds Familiar returns to Columbia in Sounds Familiar Records, which officially launches at Thursday’s Mo’ Betta Soul event at Immaculate Consumption. The shindig also doubles as the release party for Preach’s latest EP, Rebel Radio, Sounds Familiar’s first official release. Like such famous do-it-yourself record label endeavors as Dischord and K Records, Sounds Familiar was conceived as a way for Jacobs and Bland to release their own music and to celebrate the music of their scene.

“We started this label to promote ourselves,” Bland says. “But we’re using ourselves as guinea pigs, too.”

Sounds Familiar, the record label, isn’t anything fancy. Not yet, anyway. Its website is a simple WordPress page, offering blog posts, a few digital downloads and some artist information. The label’s run out of Jacobs’ small Maple Street apartment; its office is adjacent to Jacobs’ bedroom and doubles — triples, even — as his kitchen and makeshift studio. Its walls are decked with prints of jazz giants like Miles Davis and with signed posters of Common and De La Soul.

Bland and Jacobs seem an odd-couple pairing: Bland is short, white, rail-thin and plays in the Clash-indebted folk-punk ensemble Sons of Young; Jacobs is tall, black, dreadlocked and a well-respected local emcee. Jacobs is an almost-full-time musician; Bland works three jobs, one of which as a representative for the Warner Music Group, and considers the label his fourth.

Jacobs is a local jack-of-all-trades, a modern-day renaissance man: He’s a photographer, a promoter, writer, and, now, label head. (Full disclosure: Jacobs is also a frequent Free Times contributor.) But first and foremost, Jacobs is an emcee; he’s been rapping under the name Preach since high school, and his music, an intimate and conscious brand of neo-soul-inspired hip-hop, has taken him on tours of England and Japan. He’s flirted with major labels; after releasing Garveyism in 2006, Jacobs was approached by Warner Bros., Motown and Sony.

“I got approached,” he says. “And I put a lot of faith and energy into it.”

He plops down in a chair takes a sip from his coffee mug.

“And nothing ever came out of it. And I got depressed as hell.”

acobs eventually landed on a label: R2, a small indie based out of London. He released Maple Street Sessions on the label, but the experience, still, was less than he’d hoped it’d be. He had done most of the legwork himself; he did his own recording, designed his own artwork, generated his own press.

“We said, ‘F#!k it,’” Jacobs says, shrugging his shoulders. “Let’s do it ourselves. And we’ve been doing it ourselves for years. So let’s claim it. And that’s essentially what Sounds Familiar is. It’s us claiming it.”

“We have people that are doing some really good s#!t here,” he adds. “And we just need to nut up or shut up about it. We need to embrace it.”

Jacobs’ Blackberry chirps; his bank account’s been overdrawn as a result of rush-ordering the inserts for Rebel Radio.

Jacobs shrugs it off. He’s had an epiphany.

“I had one of these dorky moments where I’m up listening to Rebel Radio again, and I’ve got my earphones on,” he says. “And it hits me: We’re putting this record out on my label. And I thought about it: Sounds Familiar has been closed for the past year. And between me doing freelance writing and consulting work for the Nickelodeon, I’ve been a musician. And I’ve been paying my bills. So what if I have insufficient funds in my bank account? I had insufficient funds in my bank account when I f#!kin’ worked at Sounds Familiar. And I know people that have jobs that have insufficient funds.”

So while it can’t offer financial backing, what Sounds Familiar can offer is the benefit of experience.

“I feel like I’ve made all the mistakes,” Jacobs says. “I made all the mistakes spending all that money on Garveyism … because I didn’t know what I was doing. The mistake I made with the ‘Falling’ video was that I didn’t hype it.”

“I learned to fly while I was falling,” Jacobs says, cracking a wry grin at his self-reference.

“We just have a knack for doing stuff that a lot of artists just don’t have a knack for,” Bland says. “And a lot of the stuff we do, we were forced into it.”

To wit: Jacobs taught himself Photoshop because he didn’t have anyone to design a cover for an album; Bland booked his own tours and recorded his own music.
Now, they’re ready to offer assistance.

“If we’re in a position where we can find a way to help these artists that we’re affiliated with and introduce them to a fan base that they couldn’t have found on their own, and see them get some success out of this, I think that’s awesome,” Jacobs says.

Jacobs and Bland have already lined up a stable of artists; Sounds Familiar is working with local acoustic soul duo DayClean, Asheville funk ensemble The Secret B-Sides and Philadelphia indie-soul singer Res. To keep overhead low, Sounds Familiar, at least for the time being, is limiting physical distribution of product — Jacobs says the few hundred copies of Res’ upcoming EP will sit in a few select, boutique record stores — and maximizing digital output. The benefit: Low overhead means maximized profit, so all funds made by the label go right back into it. Money from Mo’ Betta Soul events go toward pressing records and toward advertisements into magazines like Wax Poetics; the idea, Jacobs says, is to build Sounds Familiar into a luxury-brand label in the same way Wax Poetics is a luxury-brand magazine.

“To me, that’s the business model that I go by,” Jacobs says. “It’s ten bucks an issue, so the people that aren’t interested in it, they’re not going to buy it. But the people that do buy it, they understand what they’re getting.”

Smart thinking from two dudes who’ve worked with record stores and dealt with major labels — and seen them fail.

“I think major labels want to be like us right now,” Jacobs says.

“Things are changing so rapidly,” Bland says. “We’re re-evaluating the indie label process. We’re going about re-evaluating the way a record label can work. We were in the record stores. I worked for a major label. Preach has dealt with major labels; I’ve dealt with indie labels. So we know a lot of what people wouldn’t necessarily know. We’re re-evaluating that process completely, even for indie labels.”

He squirms in the office chair, searching for the right words to say. He shifts his weight and crosses his legs.

“There’s different tiers of indie labels now,” he adds. “And I feel like we’re a part of …”
Bland trails off; he leans back and puts his hand to his chin, collecting his thoughts. He uncrosses his legs and leans forward.

“I wouldn’t call it a revolution,” Bland says.

Jacobs leans back and smiles.

“I would.”

Immaculate Consumption is at 933 Main St. The show begins at 8 p.m. on Thursday. Photographer Pat Wright is the featured artist of this installment of Mo’ Betta Soul; Preach will be backed by DJ Prince Ice, who’ll also serve as host. Doors open at 8 p.m.; admission is $5. Visit soundsfamiliarrecords.com for more information.

The Playlist is a discussion of life, the universe and everything —but mostly music. Let us know what you think: Email music@free-times.com.