An Open Letter to Seashell Radio

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Dear Seashell Radio,

I love you. There, I said it, but it doesn't mean I'll feel better. It just means I have to get my ass to your show tonight at Plush so I can confirm that my love for you is real and true.

Really, I don't know what it is I love about you most. Your laugh, although sometimes you can take things a little too seriously. It could be Esme's cello, or the way Fen pounds his drums (his glasses are nice, too), Courtney's way of pulling us into a song and toying with us a little bit, and, of course, Cassie's dreamy keyboards and songs.

Whew, OK, that's enough.

I have a sickness Seashell Radio, and the only cure is tonght at Plush at their record-release party, 9:30 p.m., 340 E. Sixth St. Gene Armstrong captured your spirit well here.

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