There's an old adage that if you love something, let it go, if it comes back then it's yours. For Nicholas Marshall and his latest musical quest this understanding is a deep one. His project Sabertooth stemmed from a farewell-to-all-that endeavor to write and record a final record and wave goodbye to the dream of life as a musician of the serious variety. That's not to say that Sabertooth's album Old Days And The Island isn't serious business, with its heady, breathy vocals and poignant lyrics it isn't the type of record that you simply put on and forget it's playing. Each song is intense and yet gentle, conjuring up an aural landscape containing a longing and a need, similar to a memory that arrives without warning on a rainy afternoon. There is a devastating and melancholic magnetism to Sabertooth's sound, a rare depth that is refreshingly seductive and powerful when held up against the intentionally ironic and overly clever slickness of current indie pop music. Marshall might have tossed the idea of a musical triumph out like an unwanted pet, but like the fabled cat, what he shut out came right back.

Originally an album was constructed, the tracks laid down and compiled as a solo exercise in processing emotion and experience, but this proved to be a false start, leading to a period of deeper reflection. In a dark hour Nicholas deleted the entire endeavor, a fatalistic feeling of loss crept in and kept him in a creative chokehold for a time. Giving up on the dream of musical success, Marshall allowed himself one final set of swan songs, self-reflexive, born from affecting ordeals and tender recollection. On these tracks he gave up control and reached out to a select few trusted friends and included them in the process. Jesse Richter played guitar and pedal steel, Daniel Sparks played bass and piano, Jim Rizzuto and Chris Hutton contributed drums and Amanda Lawrence provided viola, violin and cello. Additional assistance was provided by the multi-talented Laurel Simmons and Heather Broderick. All of these cohorts re-energized Marshall and resurrected the composing process, it was through this union that enthusiasm was reborn and a band was built. Sabertooth crept up from the depths of nostalgia and emotion, and its tracks are pure, fluid, raw. The sound was different than Nicholas' previous solo attempt. The trash on his computer remained empty, though his resolve to put his melodic past behind him remained somewhat strong until the idea of touring began to paw at the door.

Although it hadn't been their intention the Saberteeth have moved the Island out of the basement and have begun playing live shows to a warm reception. As will be evidenced by the anticipated release of Old Days And The Island on ARRCO, Sabertooth's sound is unforgettable, with a beauty that persists, just like the best kind of memory.

'Sabertooth traffic in melancholy, reciting devastating lyrics set to beautifully somber melodies. It's beautiful--like watching a sinking ship'
-- Seattle Sound Magazine