SEAN COSTELLO Source: Southwest Blues Magazine Date: 07/2008 Writer: Sarah Baker

Sean Costello: In Memoriam, 1979-2008

Until I heard Sean Costello play, I was a blues traditionalist. I mean I listened mostly to early blues musicians, like Bessie Smith and Lonnie Johnson, and on their original 78s, no less. But thanks to Austin City Limits, I heard Susan Tedeschi play. Once I bought her CD Just Won't Burn, I heard Sean Costello. And at that point, it was as if he took me by the shoulder, spun me around, and said, "This is where we're heading." I have been a huge fan ever since.

What made Costello unique among young blues musicians is that he had, at an early age, developed his own style. While he was clearly influenced by those who went before, he was never a pale imitation. In a land awash in covers, Costello was also a skilled songwriter and innovative arranger. In his brief lifetime, he took the blues in a new and exciting direction.

My greatest regret is that I never got the chance to see Costello play live, despite his relentless tour schedule. His one trip to Dallas in 2005 I missed. I spent three more years trying to see any of his Texas concerts, but he never came back. He was slated for a concert in Texarkana in '07, but that fell through. I finally wrote to him in March '08, to see if any concert plans for Texas were in the making. He wrote back almost instantly: "Agents say there are no gigs in Austin. How is that possible? Too many killer regional bands, I guess. I hope it won't be long. Thanks for listening." In a perfect world, Costello would have received the kind of media exposure he rightly deserved as one of the standard bearers of American music for a new generation. But he was able to land gigs in Europe more readily than here, and that should not rest easy with any of his Texas fans.

Sean Costello's music has been the soundtrack of my life for years. So much so that when my daughter was born, we found that playing "A Simple Twist of Fate" was one of the few guaranteed ways to get her to sleep. An unlikely lullaby, but we never questioned it. My husband and I have heard that song so many times that it has worn a groove in our brains. I can instantly replay it in my mind, from Levon Helm's opening drumroll to Costello's wailed "aaaiiiigggghhhtt" as he launches into the final, soaring solo. I wonder if, for the rest of her life, my daughter will feel sleepy when she hears that song.

Since his passing, the outpouring of love and grief from his family and fans, and the stories they have shared about his modesty and kindness have made me feel a double sense of loss. Not only have I lost my favorite musician, but the world lost a sincerely nice person. It sounds as though Sean had his share of demons, as we all do, and that his music was often his salvation. Surely the blues is a form of meditation, of finding peace or even joy through despair. His songs certainly did that for our family. Listening to his music sustained us, as bewildered new parents, through the first six months of our daughter's life.  Thank you, Sean Costello.

To make a donation to the Sean Costello Memorial Fund for Bipolar Research, please visit http://www.myspace.com/theseancostellofoundationforbipolarresearch.