welcome to the deep dive today we're setting
the gps for south carolina um not just to check
out the music scene there but really to track
a fascinating story yeah it's one of those stories
about like musical self -destruction but also
radical reinvention pretty compelling stuff exactly
we're unpacking this well almost violent transformation
of a group of musicians they had regional success
you know but then It seems like they found their
whole identity fundamentally flawed. It's way
more than just a rebrand, isn't it? It feels
more like an artistic exorcism, like you said.
Right. We're tracing the journey of Sequoia Prep
School, a band that was successful as a folk
rock act. And then looking at that specific moment,
that philosophical choice that basically forced
them to just erase that identity. And then reemerge.
Right. Spiritually, artistically renewed as this
other band, S .U .S .T .O., who are now critically
acclaimed. That's the core mission for us today.
Yeah. Understanding the why behind this really
dramatic high stakes shift. And our sources,
thankfully, give us some pretty precise details.
We've got info on the musical influences, the
timelines, and importantly, the really profound,
dramatic language they use to explain the break
itself. Which is key. And the link, the through
line connecting these two completely distinct
eras is the band leader, Justin Osbourne. He's
the central figure here. Definitely. He's at
the heart of this story, which is really defined
by rejecting the past in favor of finding some
kind of deeper truth. So we have the data. Basically,
to map this whole transformation from that geographically
specific, kind of hard to define folk rock sound
of SPS back in the early 2000s. Right. To the
much more focused contemporary indie rock and
Americana sound that STO has today. And I'd like
to really get the pivot. We have to start by
looking at what they were actually leaving behind.
So let's dive into the foundation, into Sequoia
Prep School first. Okay, let's unpack this first
chapter then. Sequoia Prep School, or SPS, they
got started pretty early, 2003, and based out
of Atlanta, South Carolina. Alanta, I mean, that's
a small town, right? It feels pretty far removed
from the big music industry hubs. What does that
specific location tell us? Well, that geographical
base is pretty telling, I think. Alanta isn't
Charleston. It's definitely not Nashville or
Austin. Right. Starting there kind of roots them
firmly in the rural southeast. And that often
means you develop this local... really organic
following first, driven by, you know, touring
the regional circuits, word of mouth. Before
maybe getting any major industry attention. Exactly.
It suggests a very grassroots, probably hardworking
beginning, digging in locally. Okay, so let's
look at the band's lineup, the roster, because
right away we hit this little contradiction,
which maybe speaks to how things get documented
for early indie bands. Ah, yeah. What is that?
Well, the source material describes SPS as a
five -piece band, but then it lists six members.
Oh, interesting. Justin Osbourne, Harrison Boyd,
Wes Jones, Jordan Hicks, Joel Ivey, and Johnny
Matthews. Six names, but described as five pieces.
What do we make of that little inconsistency?
Hmm. That's a good point. It does raise questions
about, you know, clarity in the early days of
a regional band like that. Yeah. It could suggest
maybe a fluid lineup. Perhaps one member stepped
away right when that description was being finalized,
or maybe they had slightly different lineups
for live shows versus studio stuff. Could be.
It's hard to say for sure. But either way, the
six names confirm it was a substantial group,
a pretty active unit, and Osbourne is clearly
the front man. But he's surrounded by these versatile
musicians. Definitely. And what really defines
this initial phase, maybe more than the personnel,
is the sound itself. They got labeled as having
a unique style, trying to combine folk. rock
and alternative influences, which the source
says ultimately led to a sound that was, quote,
a hard to define genre. And that difficulty in
pinning them down, that's actually critical,
I think. How sad. Because when you look at the
influences they actually cited, you see exactly
why they were hard to categorize. On one hand,
they pulled really heavily from that big, polished
1990s rock sound. Oh, yeah. Matchbox 20, Counting
Crows, Third Eye Blind. Think about that. Sound
earnest vocals. Big guitars, kind of polished
production. That radio -friendly adult alternative
vibe. Okay, I can hear that. Big sound. But then
they brought in this totally different force.
These deep folk roots. And they specifically
cited Old Crow Medicine Show. Ah, okay. So we're
talking about that more raw, traditional, sometimes
rough -around -the -edges Appalachian folk. Sound
famous for, you know, wagon wheel. Exactly. That's
the tension that defined SPS. You had the commercial
polish and that sort of emotional introspection
of post -grunge alt rock. Yeah. Trying to mesh
with the raw acoustic authenticity of Americana.
So that blend meant they didn't sound quite like
anyone else, right? But maybe it also meant they
lacked that immediate punch of a pure genre band.
Like you couldn't instantly say, oh, they're
that. Precisely. It gave them uniqueness, but
maybe less clarity for listeners or industry
folks trying to pigeonhole them. Well, whatever
they were doing, it definitely clicked with people
pretty quickly. This hard to define blend, it
found traction fast, at least in the regional
scene. It did. In 2005, they were actually declared
the number one unsigned band in South Carolina.
Wow. By the online music industry, apparently.
That's a pretty massive endorsement back then.
Validates what they were doing. Absolutely significant,
especially thinking about 2005. That was peak
MySpace era, right? Pre -major label hype being
the only way. Totally. And speaking of that era.
Their success is just completely tied up with
MySpace. Their commercial highlights, the source
notes, are directly linked to how powerful that
platform was for music discovery then. Their
songs about rain and hurricane. Yeah. They racked
up over 800 ,000 plays just on MySpace. 800 ,000
on MySpace. That's incredible for that time.
That wasn't just local buzz. That was serious
digital reach. Building a real fan base beyond
radio or anything. Exactly. And that online momentum,
it clearly translated into actual sales too.
Okay. Their most popular release seems to be
the 2008 album Ghost Town. Reportedly sold over
20 ,000 copies in the first year. 20 ,000 copies.
For an unsigned or very indie band back then,
before streaming really took over sales. That's
substantial. That's real money. Real artistic
achievement. Oh yeah. They weren't just some
local curiosity playing bars. They were a commercially
viable act. And you can see that dual nature,
the folk rock blend, reflected perfectly in the
instruments they were using, too. It wasn't just
like they added a banjo player occasionally.
No, the instrumentation details really give you
the technical fingerprint of their sound. Right.
Justin Osbourne, he wasn't just the singer. Right.
He also played acoustic guitar, mandolin, and
piano. Mandolin. And then Wes Jones handled guitar,
vocals, banjo, and piano. So the mandolin. the
banjo. That's the literal folk texture. Yeah,
layered right onto the standard rock setup. Exactly.
They had the core rock tools, but they also had
the texture and that acoustic feel of Americana
baked right in. It shows the genre blend wasn't
accidental. It was built into how they played.
So their active years stretched for, what, nearly
a decade? From starting in 2003 up to their last
release mention, a single called Spells in 2011.
Yeah, a good run. And during that time, they
were definitely a touring machine. Yeah. Hitting
the Southeast, obviously, but also the Northeast
and Midwest. Getting out there. Constantly on
the road. And look at who they shared stages
with. It's incredibly diverse. You've got Anne
Berlin, who are like a major alternative rockamo
act. They're better than Ezra. Classic 90s rock.
And then also roots guys like Corey Smith. Wow,
that is diverse. It really confirms that their
hard -to -define sound actually worked across
different audiences. Yeah. It was versatile enough
to fit on different bills. Truly cross -genre.
And anchored in places like the New Brooklyn
Tavern in Columbia, South Carolina, which is
kind of a legendary venue down there, right?
Solidifying that regional legacy. Definitely.
They put in the work, built a real following.
Okay, so we've got this picture. A successful
band. Established regionally, selling albums,
big online numbers, almost a decade of touring
under their belt. Real momentum. Yep. They'd
achieved something significant. Then we hit this
huge narrative turn. And this is where the story
shifts from, you know, musical success to something
more like existential crisis. Right. That jump
from having commercial success to suddenly expressing
this profound self -doubt. Yeah. That's honestly
the most intriguing part of this whole deep dive
for me. Yeah. And it starts simply enough. The
band took an eight -month break in 2010. Okay.
Bands take breaks. But this wasn't just a standard,
let's recharge, write some new songs kind of
break. The source material is really explicit
here. How so? This time off was used for deep,
like, thematic and philosophical self -reflection,
and apparently driven primarily by Osborne. Okay.
In the language they used to describe this reflection,
this is where it gets... It stops being about
just music and starts sounding almost like, well,
morality. Yeah. They apparently engaged in looking
back on what's described as a life of sin. Right.
A life of sin. Wait, hang on. A successful folk
rock band touring the Southeast is looking back
at their run and calling it a life of sin. That's
an incredibly severe way to frame it. It's extremely
high stakes language, isn't it? It suggests this
massive gap had opened up between their public
success and how the core artists felt. internally
privately but why why would the music itself
this polished folk rock blend be considered sinful
what does that even mean in this context that's
the million dollar question perhaps and this
is just speculation based on the ship that followed
Perhaps that polished, radio -friendly side,
the 90s rock influence they embodied. Maybe that
started to feel inauthentic or too commercially
compromising compared to the raw Americana side
they also clearly loved. So the art itself, or
maybe the lifestyle that came with promoting
that art, became the sin. It seems like it. And
if the music and the touring life were viewed
that negatively, then the need for radical change
becomes much clearer, artistically speaking.
Yeah, it sets the stage. And this identity crisis,
it really climaxes with this incredibly dramatic
statement that the source highlights, that they
had, quote, entered the darkness and can no longer
return. That's not just rebranding talk. That
sounds like a public declaration of some kind
of foundational trauma or irreversible change.
That statement. absolutely serves as the explicit,
super dramatic catalyst for everything that follows.
It implies that the path they took as Sequoia
Prep School led them somewhere they ultimately
found, untenable. Or maybe even morally corrupting
from their perspective. Like they felt they crossed
some line. Exactly. They crossed the threshold.
And the only way forward was to just completely
abandon the vehicle, the band identity that took
them there. This level of self -criticism, it
almost makes the band sound less like a business
and more like, I don't know, the subject of a
morality play or something. It really does frame
it that way. So what was the practical outcome
of this intense internal conviction? What did
they actually do? Well, the result was this.
conscious, very purposeful effort to, quote,
dissociate themselves with the music produced
when they were called Sequoia Prep School. Dissociate
themselves. Think about what that means. It's
huge. They were actively rejecting their most
popular songs, their biggest successes, their
established name and identity. That's a staggering
business decision, even before you get to the
philosophical weight of it. You sell 20 ,000
albums, you have 800 ,000 plays building an audience,
and you consciously say, nope, we reject all
that. You risk alienating your entire original
fan base and giving up potentially significant
income from that back catalog. Why take such
a drastic, almost punitive step? It seems because
the philosophical need, the need for a clean
break, just completely outweighed the commercial
risk for them, or at least for Osborne. The darkness
was too real. Apparently, for them, the name
SPS and its music were just intrinsically linked
to that life of sin. So to achieve whatever artistic
redemption or clarity they were seeking, they
had to declare that past identity dead. Finished.
So the dissociation makes the next step. The
new band, S .U .S .O., seem not just like an
evolution, but like a necessary rebirth, a cleansing.
Exactly. It transforms what could have just been
a name change into this really profound statement
about the connection between your personal ethics
and what you create artistically. So emerging
from that self -declared darkness, this new identity
starts to form. The band ASIO, often in all caps,
S -U -S -T -O, began their activities around
2013, 2014. So a couple of years after that,
SBS hiatus. Right. And now based in Charleston,
South Carolina. OK, so we see a time shift, but
also a geographical one. They move from Atlanta,
that small town, to Charleston. Charleston's
a much bigger cultural hub, right? Especially
for Americana, roots music, that kind of scene.
Does that move seem strategic, like reflecting
a new focus? Oh, absolutely. I think so. Yeah.
The move to Charleston signals a kind of... Professional
maturation, maybe. How do you mean? Well, they're
now embedding themselves right in the city with
a really robust contemporary music scene. A scene
that's known for being friendly to exactly the
genres they were moving towards, Americana and
indie rock. So it helps them shed that maybe
limiting regional folk rock tag from the Atlanta
days? Yeah, and enter a broader, maybe more sophisticated
cultural conversation. It positions them differently.
And the name itself, S. Ute Stiro. This provides
that ultimate aha. Moment, doesn't it? I feel
like it directly justifies all the philosophical
drama of the break we just talked about. It really
does. The name S .U .T .O. It's the Spanish word
meaning an intense fear understood as a condition
of the soul. Wow. I mean, that perfectly encapsulates
the whole crisis narrative, right? It's actually
brilliant branding if you think about it purely
on that level. Yeah. Because it creates this
direct thematic link. Back to that identity trauma.
If they enter the darkness as SPS. Yeah. The
new band is used to is literally named after
the condition that crisis created. It's like
saying, OK, that intense fear, that spiritual
unease, the susto that's now the central subject
of our art. We're not going to ignore it or cover
it up with polished rock anymore. And the source
adds a little more texture to noting the name
also had some derivation from Cuban roots and
even letters within Justin Osbourne's own name.
Right. Which adds these layers of. personal,
maybe spiritual cultural significance. It grounds
the new identity, not just in a big philosophical
concept, but ties it right back to the band leader's
own identity and maybe heritage. It makes it
feel very intentional. Very personal. Yeah. And
crucially, this new identity came with a much
clearer sound, a clearer stylistic definition.
Okay. SCU is defined pretty clearly as an American
indie rock band, but also incorporating Americana
and alt country. So that resolves that old SPS
problem of being hard to define. Exactly. Yeah.
They seem to have found their lane by taking
those folk elements they clearly loved the Americana
part and synthesizing them with a more contemporary
approach. the indie rock edge. It's a clearer
target. Now let's talk about continuity, because
even though this was framed as this huge philosophical
break, it wasn't a total clean slate with personnel,
right? Osbourne's still the main guy. Yes, he's
the central visionary providing that continuity.
But there was at least one other key member shared
between the bands, which proves this new thing
was still built on an existing foundation. Yeah,
that's an important detail. Jordan Hicks. He
was listed as a versatile player back in SBS
guitar, banjo, vocals. Right, the banjo especially.
And the source explicitly notes he was a past
member of STO2. Okay, so why is that vital? Because
Hicks represents that specific technical continuity.
The banjo, that folk sensibility, it wasn't just
discarded. It wasn't thrown out with the bathwater.
Ah, I see. It was just repurposed, given a new
context within the STO framework. So it wasn't
really a rejection of the sound entirely maybe,
but more the meaning or the associations tied
to that sound back in the SBS days. Gotcha. The
tools were kept, but the mission changed. Something
like that. And the current roster seems to solidify
SDO as a cohesive unit now. Justin Osborne, Marshall
Hudson, Kevin Early, Johnny Delaware, and Ian
Kleem. And importantly, this new structure, this
new identity, it seems to have quickly led to
much more prolific output and definitely greater
industry visibility than SPS ever achieved. The
trajectory is pretty steep, yeah. They put out
their self -titled debut in 2014 that was on
Hearts and Plugs, which is a solid local regional
label in Charleston. Okay. But then look at the
label progression after that. It really demonstrates
how quickly they ascended and got validated within
that American indie world. They moved to Missing
Peace Records and Acid Boys for their second
album, And I'm Fine Today, in 2017. And then
came a really significant step up, one that anyone
following this kind of music would recognize.
They signed with Rounder Records for ever since
I lost my mind in 2019. Yeah. What does signing
to Rounder specifically signal in this context?
Americana, alt country, Rounder's a big name,
right? Oh, Rounder's a huge signifier. It's one
of those respected, most storied labels in American
roots music, period. Often associated with Grammy
winners, genre legends. So that move instantly
does what? Lifts them up. It instantly validated
Susto's commitment to authentic Americana and
alt country. It lifted them from being maybe
a cool regional indie band to having serious
national industry credibility. It confirmed they
weren't that hard to define local rock band anymore.
They were serious players in the roots genre.
Okay, huge step. And they kept that momentum
going, didn't they? Eventually moving to New
West Records. Yeah, for Time in the Sun in 2021
and then my entire life in 2023. And New West
is another powerhouse label in that contemporary
Americana and roots rock world. Absolutely. So
it confirms this. really calculated strategic
progression through high caliber genre appropriate
labels they weren't just randomly signing deals
they were moving up the ladder within their chosen
scene and creatively they're still going strong
it shows the new identity is sustainable my entire
life was their fifth studio album just last year
2023 right and they're already prepping another
release apparently a more niche focused one called
susto string band volume one slated for 2025
interesting string band Yeah, it shows they're
not only prolific, but actively exploring those
acoustic Americana textures even deeper within
the Esteoso sound, really leaning into it. And
all this increased visibility, it also translated
into playing bigger stages, major festivals.
Definitely. The source mentions them playing
the High Water Festival, which is right there
in North Charleston in 2018. Makes sense geographically.
Yeah. But also, crucially, the South by Southwest
Festival, SSSW, down in Austin, Texas in 2019.
And playing SXSW is, that's kind of a rite of
passage, isn't it? It's huge. It's a strategic
necessity, really, for any band seeking national,
even international exposure. It's where the industry,
the media, thousands of fans all converge. So
that performance really solidifies their status
as a national level act, a buzzworthy band. Exactly.
It demonstrates that this really profound personal
shift from SPS to Sisto ultimately resulted in
undeniable commercial and critical elevation
for them. The gamble paid off. OK, so now we
have the full arc of the shift laid out. Let's
circle back and actually look at the music itself,
the discography side by side, because the lyrical
themes, the song titles. This feels like the
most concrete evidence of that shift we've been
talking about. From SPS's perceived life of sin
to Esto really exploring that condition of the
soul. Absolutely. This is where you really see
the change manifest. So starting back with Sequoia
Prep School, they had three main studio albums
listed. Weights Are Heavy in 2005. We said hello
in 2008. And also Ghost Town in 2008. The titles
themselves, Weights Are Heavy, Ghost Town, they
kind of lean into that introspective, maybe slightly
dramatic, emotional vibe of early 2000s rock,
don't they? They do. Weights Are Heavy, it feels
classic, earnest, maybe a bit vaguely angsty.
Yeah, emo adjacent, maybe. And if we look at
some specific track names from SBS, the picture
gets even clearer. We've got About Rain, Hurricane.
Okay, weather themes. Sensibility. Interesting.
Literary reference. Right. Feels sort of safe.
Yeah. Emotionally grounded in that 90s rock storytelling
style. Then Holy City and Lucille. Holy City
likely referring to Charleston or the area, a
bit of local pride maybe. But overall, lyrically,
SPS seemed to be operating in a pretty recognizable
tradition. Meaning? Writing about love, loss,
the weather, maybe some local references. but
without really pushing into overtly provocative
or like confrontational theological territory.
Right. They were a successful band writing solid,
accessible folk rock songs, nothing inherently
sinful looking from the outside, you know. Exactly.
But the contrast, when you pivot to susto singles
and album titles, it's seismic. It's immediate.
Yeah. This is where the band just explicitly
delivers on the promise of that susto identity.
The themes immediately jump to this very explicit,
often kind of irreverent or darkly humorous engagement
with faith, doubt, God, the darkness they mentioned.
Okay, give me an example. This is where the depth
really lies, like you said. Okay, consider this
single title. Yeah. Chilling on the Beach with
My Best Friend Jesus Christ, released in 2016.
Wow. Now, compare that directly to an SBS title
like Sense and Sensibility. Worlds Apart. One
is polite, literary, observational, maybe. The
other is shocking, casual. It's this juxtaposition
of the most sacred figure imaginable, Jesus Christ,
with the totally mundane image of chilling on
a beach. Exactly. It feels like a complete thematic
liberation. The titles themselves become confrontational.
They challenge your expectations. They seem to
embrace the complexity, the messiness of faith
and doubt, rather than hiding it behind safer,
more vague emotional language. And that continues,
right? There was another single, Hyperbolic Jesus,
that came out before the My Entire Life album
in 2023. Yes. Even the language itself feels
more sophisticated, maybe a bit satirical, using
a word like hyperbolic to talk about theological
ideas. So these songs, these titles, they directly
fulfill that journey. Osborne started with the
whole life of sin reflection back in 2010. It
really seems like it. They're taking those intensely
personal, maybe spiritual conflicts, and turning
them directly into their art, their repeatable
commercial art. The new music just isn't afraid
to ask. tough questions or be irreverent or get
deeply personal about that search for meaning.
That's exactly how it feels. And even the STO
album titles like. And I'm fine today with that
sort of implicit qualifier or ever since I lost
my mind in my entire life. They all suggest a
much wider scope of psychological, maybe spiritual
exploration than the earlier, more contained
SPS titles like Weights Are Heavy. Yeah, the
scale feels bigger. And we also see their commitment
to the live show reflected in SDO's output, too,
right? They've released live albums. Yeah, things
like live from the Australian Country Music Hall
of Fame back in 2015 and more recently live from
Codfish Hollow in 2020. It demonstrates that
the SCO sound isn't just a studio creation, it's
robust and translates effectively live. Okay,
so when we put it all together, when we synthesize
this whole journey, it seems clear the break
wasn't just about changing the style slightly.
It felt like a philosophical necessity for them.
I think that's right. The original band, SBS,
was a success, sure. Built on that kind of hard
-to -define mix of polished 90s rock and traditional
folk. But the core musicians, they kept some
essential elements, didn't they? The acoustic
guitar, the... The banjo, the piano, thanks to
guys like Hick staying on initially and Osborne
leading. Exactly. The tools remained. Right.
But the context for those tools fundamentally
shifted. Also. Well, that instrumentation, it
was redirected. Instead of serving the sort of
emotional, maybe radio friendly folk rock of
SPS, it started providing the starker, more textured
backdrop for Vasto's intense thematic focus,
that spiritual fear, that existential searching.
So they moved from. just blending styles to landing
in this more mature American indie space where
the genre is defined as much by the depth of
the subject matter, the susto itself, as by the
instruments being played. Well put, yeah. The
ultimate conclusion, I think, is that this whole
transition just powerfully demonstrates the role
of self -evaluation, even harsh self -criticism
in art. That foundational break, that feeling
of needing to abandon a past they deemed sinful.
It paradoxically allowed Osborne and the group
to settle into a sound that's arguably far more
defined. So they found clarity by actually embracing
the crisis, the darkness. It seems that way.
The journey really proves that sometimes maybe
to find your truest sound, to really define your
artistic space, you first have to confront and
maybe even document the murky parts of your own
personal history. And then commit to... using
that darkness that complexity as your primary
source material going forward hashtag tag outro
wow what a deep dive that was into artistic reinvention
conviction maybe even redemption in a way it
really covers a lot of ground yeah we've traced
this evolution from sequoia prep school successful
but apparently deeply self -critical to sesto
who are critically respected prolific and seem
much more comfortable in their own skin musically
and thematically Yeah, it really is an exemplary
case of how an identity crisis, that feeling
of being on the long path, can actually fuel
a creative and ultimately successful breakthrough.
And if we zoom out, look at the bigger picture
here. Yeah. It raises this really essential question
for any artist, any creative person or entity,
really. It is. When an established identity gets
discarded. When do you know if it's just a strategic
rebrand, you know, fresh coat of paint, new logo,
versus when it's a genuine, necessary declaration
like we saw here? That feeling of having entered
the darkness and can no longer return, which
demands a complete artistic and philosophical
reset. That's a tough line to gauge from the
outside sometimes. But for Justin Osbourne and
the shift to Sesto, it feels like the music itself
became the direct exploration of that intense
fear that Sesto, the condition of the soul. Yeah,
they took what they perceived as a failure or
maybe that life of sin, and they managed to use
it as the launch pad for what seems to be their
most artistically sustainable and arguably most
successful chapter yet. So the final takeaway
for you, the listener, might be about the incredible
power, the potency of turning difficult personal
history into public art. right this story really
seems to prove that the deepest cuts those really
honest confrontations with your own past your
own morality your own fears they can ultimately
become the sharpest the most resonant and maybe
even the most successful force material for the
art that comes next it suggests that artistic
maturity sometimes is born from a kind of profound
self -rejection first