Hey, what a couple of years, eh? Just a note to say we're still here. In fact, we've been cooking up the next album's worth of ditties for possible recording this fall. We hope you made it through the craziness and look forward to celebrating life and music in person with you sometime soon. 



Crikey. How do you misplace a whole year? We managed to find a way. When we recorded our new record, The Wait, grand plans were hatched to hit the road in 2020 and play to new audiences, old audience, new old audiences, old new audiences, etc. We'd play our new tracks and sell our new vinyl. It would be glorious! A year later, we find ourselves with quite a few records in boxes – and – haven't played a note together as a band all year other than sharing tracks back and forth. Worst of all, we didn't get to hang out on the tourbus with our friends, the Lazaretto Brothers. But hope springs eternal...and with light at the end of the COVID tunnel, we see potential 2021 gigs as a reality. 


In the meantime, we've been collecting the works of Gus and Giuseppe Lazaretto all pandemic long. Early in the quarantine, they started sending us new cover songs and videos. We ignored 'em the best we could at first, until there were just too many to ignore. We didn't know what to do with them other than slap 'em up on YouTube and Facebook. As you may or may not know, we're not the best self-promoters, let alone friends from the old country. But nearly a year to the day, we get a box in the mail with some cassette tapes of all the songs they'd recorded all year long, and not so surprisingly, they were all pretty good. So we offered to share 'em with whomever might happen upon our site. This sounded mighty good to the brothers, so here they are.


At the link below you'll find the best of the recordings from this year's COVID Sessions. The brothers originally had the idea to ask people to donate money in the amount of their choosing, giving it all to a charity (Doctors Without Borders) in exchange for downloading their favorite tunes. However, we convinced them nobody would want to pay for their silly little cover songs. They insisted we give our PayPal handle  We didn't know they even knew what PayPal was. But as promised here it is: 

PayPal: Seidelworks@gmail.com

But don't feel obliged or guilted, unless of course you do. In which case, it's going to a great cause, especially in these crazy times. 

At the link you'll find nineteen individual tracks of varying quality and recording value, but all with a little something we thought worthy of sharing to the world. We packaged 'em up in a couple different ways. That's the "album cover" on the left which you'll find among the downloads (in case they didn't encode properly and you're anal like we are about having artwork with our audio files). Not sure which brother is represented here, as they look strikingly similar. Very hairy. Anyhow, the brothers thank you. We thank you. And hope to see you live and in person real soon.  




 If you don't know the Lazaretto Brothers, you haven't been watching the COVID Sessions. If you haven't been watching the COVID Sessions, you've been missing out on some of the best homegrown entertainment this side of quarantine. If you have, you know Gus and Giuseppe have been cooking up their own take on classic tunes all years long. Songs like the slowed down, sultry version of Loverboy's Everybody's Working for the Weekend or AC/DC's You Shook Me all Night Long next to Pearl Jam, Echo and the Bunnymen and more. 

But what you might not is that the brothers play every song live, without overdubs? It's true. No lip-syncs in these videos. Every song has one of the brothers playing and singing straight-through. And the astute viewer will notice that as the series progressed, Gus and Giuseppe began accompanying themselves on other instruments or harmonies with the rule that it had to be a complete take. By all accounts, this  meant that one song could end up taking hours due to this arcane, self-imposed approach. 

We met the Lazaretto Brothers on  Recliner's western swing through Little Portugal a few years back and have been keeping tabs on them ever since. Being from the old country, the brothers certainly knew their way around a tune, but it became clear that social media, marketing and general hygiene were not their thing. So we decided to take them under our wings and post their stuff while we all sheltered home during the pandemic. 

We suggest you check them all out. What else do you have to do? 



Well, 2020 didn't quite go as planned, did it. We were excited to unveil our new record and sell it with a string of shows that were cancelled. So we're sitting on a "few" extra vinyl that desperately wants and deserves a home. We're selling them in as low-fi a way as you can imagine, essentially you send us an email to:


and say you want a record and we take payment any way that works for you and then ship the lovely gatefold album out to you. Couldn't be easier.

Want to read a lovely review of The Wait, as reviewed in I Don't Hear a Single? Have a look. Then have a listen. You'll be glad you did



Yup. It's hear. Find it on all your favorite streaming services, or have a listen here.



Hey there. Happy Sunday! How's things? Enjoying the beautiful day here, and putting some final touches on a video that's been brewing for sometime. Anyhow, it's a single from our new EP:

 The Weightless EP

...which you can download from that link. But first, have a look. Leave a thought. Share it about.
Love, your friends at Recliner.



Hey there! It's been a while. But guess what? We've been busy. We've got new music burning a collective hole in our pockets. We're running a special pre-order on vinyl with lots of other goodies, including downloads, coffee table books, T-shirts, and more.

We couldn't be more excited to be finally share it with you. So head over to our pre-order page and put in an order.



Holy Fleetwood Mac Rumors, that took long. But hey, as you can see here, Joe taught us some new chords along the way. And 15 songs later, we're pretty dang happy with the outcome. We're putting the final touches as we master all the tracks and soon you'll be able to pre-buy your copy of our new record, The Wait, in digital and vinyl formats.

But even before that, we've got an EP to drop in your laps! Like early August! It's called Ocupado, and it's like a sneak peak at what you'll get with the new long playing record, with some odds and sods thrown on for good measure. Good things do come to those who wait. So stay tuned, there's going to be a lot of Recliner-related activity come late summer and early fall. Shows, music, videos. The works.

We can't wait to share it all. 



It's official. We've got new music. What started as simple demo sessions became the real thing and now it's quite frankly burning a hole in our pockets. We've got five tracks done and on the mixing boards as we speak, errr write. Now comes the decision as to whether we get 'em out in the world now or wait until the next five or so are finished. Dilemna.
Whatever we choose to do, we know the project has a name—The Wait.

There's some politics. Some angst. Are those both the same? Some old man ponderings. Some young man ponderings. Some navel gazing. It's all in there. A little punk, a little country tinged, a little Floyd. Some Hammond Organ! Yo Greg Jones! So yeah, a Recliner record. It's gonna be fun to share whichoo. Whatever we do, we should have something out 'bout it soon. Woohoo.



We're pleased to announce the first show of the year.

We'll be playing a couple new ones from our recent songwriting flurry.

Come celebrate spring and hoist a cold one.



Greg Jones was a benefactor, an engineer, a mathematician, musician, curmudgeon, athlete, fashion plate, son, husband, bandmate, problem solver, astronomer, sailor, waterskier, surfer, ship builder, havoc maker, shop keeper, craftsman, goalie, pyrotechnician, organ refinisher, scientist, tinkerer, educator and inspirer. And that's just a partial list. He was so many things to so many people. But best of all, he was our friend.

For a nanosecond, Greg was Recliner's first bass player. Watching him play music was a special treat as he approached playing like a scientist, his brain transposing everything into mathematics. But he was soon off to bigger and better things with the Extra Action Marching Band. Still he remained a big part of our band after that—freely lending us gear, explaining musical principles, frequencies and sine waves, and even lending us his house and playing a role in our first video All Pleasure. He graced the inside of our CD covers, played on a few tracks for us, and along with his lovely wife, he inspired the lyrics to our song, In all the World. Greg was the 5th Recliner, whether he liked it or not.

The man was bigger than life and I was always a little in awe of him for it. From the day I met him back in 7th grade, I admired his "my way or the highway" attitude. It's a rare gift to have confidence of that magnitude at that age, or any, with the intelligence to back it up. Greg had it his whole life. But more than anything, he had a huge heart and would go well out of his way for his friends. He was real. His unique humor and infectious laugh endeared him to anyone who had the good fortune to meet him.

I really don't know any other person who approached life in quite the same way as Greg—seemingly without fear or regret. When he told me he had cancer, it was a huge shock. But he approached it all in a uniquely Greg Jones way. I never heard him complain—not once—about being in pain or fearing the end. In fact, he kept playing goalie on our soccer team with the same reckless abandon he always had. It wasn't that he didn't care, he just wasn't giving in physically or mentally to this thing as long as he could help it. It was truly inspiring.

One day, he explained to me how cancer was really just an early ending to an amazing life.
He said that he'd got to do almost everything he'd ever wanted to do (except climb Mt. Everest) and that he was at peace with it. He was staring a death sentence in the face with courage, dignity, humor and a true appreciation for life.

Greg impacted a lot of people in a lot of ways. He leaves a lot of very sad people behind, including his lovely wife, his mom and the countless friends he touched throughout his storied life. But every one of us is better off for knowing him. As a band and as individuals we were privileged to call him our friend. I was so glad I got to see him just before he passed to tell him how much I, and so many others, loved him. He was one of a kind and we will never forget you Greg Jones. Quite frankly, there's just no way you could.



It may be anti-climactic to some, given that the CD came out in November. But hey, it's not every day your music gets printed on vinyl (apparently, you have to wait six months for the privilege). And so what if nobody seems to have a phonograph anymore—unless of course your hip, or um, a hipster? Or just old and never bothered to get rid of it. We are one of the above and bet you are too.

The point is—the record's done and we couldn't be any more excited about it. Except that we forgot about distribution. Where can you get yours, you ask? Good question. Whereas the digital revolution has made it easier than ever to get music into your hands via digital download or compact disc (remember those?), there's no easy way to get the record out. Unless of course you simply...

Email us and tell us you want one. 
Yes, it's that simple.

That's how we're doing it (for now). $30 gets you the gorgeous, red, translucent vinyl edition of Unfinished Conversations lovingly packaged and shipped to your door. We'll even send you a digital copy while you wait.

Get your copy! It's so easy:

1. Drop us a note that you want one to recliner@me.com
2. Let us know where to send it.
3. We'll send payment instructions and off it will go.



David Bowie is gone. How could this happen? Since I was thirteen, he’s been this immortal, immovable force in my life. From the minute I “discovered” him, he’s been there with me—for me. Those few times I stopped paying attention, he would whisper in my ear and soon have my full attention again. He was one of those icons that you thought would be around forever.

But he wasn't immortal. Like all of us, he had a finite amount of time on earth to make his mark. But unlike most of us, his mark happened to change the world. Here's a man that single handedly helped end the 60’s hippy dippy culture by ushering in a post-modern era of music, art and fashion that lives on to this day in many ways.

So sure, that’s partially why I am so sad. David Bowie, the titan of influence is gone. But as a thirteen year old, I never thought of him in those terms. I still don’t. Frankly, I don’t believe he ever set out to influence the world in the way he did. By being his own unique self, by being true to his own sensibilities, it just happened. And in doing so, he changed the world. I'm certainly cutting corners here by not listing more of his achievements and the barriers he broke.

Of course, all that is true. But that's not why I've been so gutted by this news. It's because, while I never knew him, he seemed to know me. And I will miss the way he spoke to me personally. Showing me it was okay to be one of the weird ones. To dress your own way. To think your own way. And to pursue your art with reckless abandon, not worrying about the consequences or commercial appeal (except for his own admitted brief late-80's missteps). He taught me that doing your own thing for yourself was more important than anything. Just being creative for yourself. Even when people stopped listening. Because they did. We're a fickle public. Bowie didn't seem to care. He kept doing what he did, staying true to himself. That taught me more than anything. Still does.

So did I dye my hair and wear dresses to school? Well no. Other than a little eyeliner here and there, I probably didn’t change outwardly much at all. For me, it was how he touched me on the inside. How he made me think. He made it okay to feel isolated, alienated and alone. But then he also showed the way out of those depths through creativity. If you draw nothing else from this man, you have to recognize his endless creativity.  

I know I'm one of millions and millions mourning his loss, but I've never felt so deeply saddened as I am in losing someone I never knew. It feels very personal. As I'm sure it does for so many. I am left with a strange mix of mourning and a feeling of mortality, like I've lost the last thing that connected me to my youth. But more than anything, I'm left forever indebted to him—for igniting my love of music and helping me see the world through an altogether different set of glasses. 

The man was cool until the end. The fucking coolest. Even as he knew he was about to move on to the next world, he put all his energy into turning those feelings and emotions into art that stands with some of his best work. He'd even started writing a new batch of songs in case he had time to bring them to life. He simply never gave up, or gave in to the the fashions of the day. Not many artists can say that. As the world rises in tribute, and it's been amazing to see how many he touched, I still mourn for the man as if I've lost one of my nearest and dearest friend. But I know I'm not alone. And I know that his music, influence and inspiration will live with me and so many others, forever. In that way, David Bowie will never be gone. And for that I am grateful.



Three ways to get your copy (CD or download):

Visit CD Baby for a download or CD copy
Visit Bandcamp for your download with digital booklet
Or visit iTunes

You won't be sorry.