It’s been a difficult week in the world of music publications after it was announced that outlets like BrooklynVegan, Alternative Press, Revolver, and Goldmine all had their staffing gutted by corporate owner Veeps (who connects to Live Nation, coincidentally). While this is disappointing to see more names I know/respect on their way out, this hasn’t filled me with despair. In fact, I’m fired up to see music industry journalism continuing to change. Do I want people to lose their jobs? Absolutely not. But I am ready for these dinosaurs on top and their old way of thinking to be shown the door.
Why, you ask? Because (if you somehow don’t know already), I work heavily with independent artists and bands here on OTBEOTB. Eye-catching talents everywhere, both on Substack and off-platform. They’ve been ignored by the “big players” for far too long, and a new door is opening that independent journalists like myself want to help take them through. I (along with many others) see this as a communal effort where major change can happen the more we work as a team at building this new bridge together. How else might you discover someone like San Francisco Bay-based singer-songwriter Chris Ahlman, for instance?
Ahlman has been honing his craft for nearly two decades, expanding his musical footprint both around the Bay and as far away as New Orleans, Nashville, California, and Oregon. The artist has released six studio albums, with his latest (Santa Barbara Songs) dropping earlier this year. Recorded in Nashville back in 2025 with a roster of some of the finest creators around as a backing band, Ahlman has material on this LP that’s not to be missed. While the Rolling Stone-level names in the music world prepare their tenth tired article on the same small roster of played-out chart toppers.
Take opening Santa Barbara Songs track “The Perfect Fit,” for instance (bit of a perfect name to prove my point in this piece actually). Ahlman’s voice has the steady grit of West Coast sandy beaches, with a folk-rock backing that accents his words without overwhelming them as the focal point. He reminds me a bit of earlier John Mayer here, but without the cheese Mayer was known to spout on dreck like “Your Body is a Wonderland” or “No Such Thing.” Ahlman is all earnest, professing that his love for another is true without seeming like the emotion is thumbtacked together. Instead, this is the real deal. “The Perfect Fit.”
“Broken One Down” tilts our perspective toward the twilight, with the beauty of the stars above seeming like a million miles away in the dusky dregs of these wounded lyrics. Ahlman has a subtle ability to not need to affect major alteration in his voice to still key change into a heavier-weighted hand of storytelling. The musician does a lot between the smallest lines of these songs, and that’s really powerful in how effective it is.
Lightly-grazed piano, guitar, and percussion pull us into the spell of “Six Strings of Freedom,” which initially made me think of protesting or pulling away from the status quo. What I found might not have been quite as rooted in current events as I momentarily speculated, but instead speaks to a different type of wide-open space. “Six Strings of Freedom” is the privilege to be able to pick up the guitar as Ahlman does and tell us his stories through wood, metal, and strings. These simple components give us a road map into his gently-touched, personal writing, and that pulls upon the heartstrings.
The verbiage doesn’t need to be composed from the ancient language of complicated arithmetic, either. What I mean by that is that Ahlman can take us through the simplicities of a day comprised of mixed emotions (as with “Oh My Friend”), and still reassure us that “this is not the end.” Backed by female harmonies, guitar fills soloing out and back into the mix, and Ahlman’s sturdy vocals, you feel the heart in his words. The world is a rough and heavy place, but it isn’t without light and (in Ahlman’s words) “the love I send.”
“It’s True With You” has a very coffeehouse vibe, mixing acoustic/electric guitar with more delicate vocal blending to convey a lighter heart as Ahlman evaluates the validity of the weight inside of a relationship. It feels like the artist knows he has to improve as a person and has “some living to do,” but that he’ll come back because this connection is real for him. He may question the outcome, but can’t stop coming back to the same whispered, devotional line of, “it’s true, with you.” Ultimately, this is the love story that lasts.
There’s a bit of vintage Tom Petty in the lightly stripped heart of “Slide Into Eternity,” with a story in the lyrics that almost feels like an extension of “It’s True With You.” As though Ahlman has finally reached his decision on how his narrator feels about this other person, and wants to go out into the world and be with them. Or maybe this is even the beginning, when the explosion of first connection and the breathtaking beauty inside of that meaning is all you can feel down to a molecular level. This is it, and eternity already seems to be a beautifully embraced inevitability.
Santa Barbara Songs closes out with “I’ll Be Okay,” which makes the last few songs feel like they were only part of a beautiful dream. This desired person so close and so wanted is now merely a ghost, and Ahlman can only travel onward on his journey. The lightly-soaked alt-rock within absorbs each moment with a gentle balance, as the musician seems to find acceptance in his present despite the hurt of what has gone away. There are so many West Coast themes of sand, sun, and the heat of long-winding roads on Santa Barbara Songs, and Ahlman is prepared to fade off into them once more.
The artist embraces the role of singer-songwriter with such well-toned strength, as he seems like the penultimate guy with a guitar in a dive bar or small venue meant to tell stories everywhere his feet may fall. True, false, or somewhere in between (we’ll never know entirely). Just be lucky to catch him while he’s there to sing; tomorrow it may only feel like another dream that’s gone up in smoke. Because as the album cover of Santa Barbara Songs demonstrates, whether seas are choppy or as smooth as glass, Ahlman is ready to sail, sail on.
Ahlman is an example of a name we get to know more about because of independent journalism. He may not be leading a Top 40 chart, featuring on a streamer like Spotify, or capturing the cover of a magazine in every store. But the artist is out there “livin’ the dream” (as his website says) because Ahlman is getting to do what he loves. He’s worried more about loving that job than about being rich or “at the top.” To paraphrase the great musician Warren Zevon, that leaves more time to be creative, and “to witness the human exchange of ideas at the bus stop” (rather than being rich and always on the phone with your accountant instead).
Chris Ahlman is one (of many) reasons why I do what I do on Substack. What WE as a community are trying to do. As the out-of-date and out-of-touch continue to fall, albums like Santa Barbara Songs will continue to rise with dedicated writers like me backing them all the way. Real music from real storytellers, out there witnessing those human exchanges at the bus stop. That’s what music fans are looking for more and more, and we have it with an LP like this right here. Now let’s go out there and sail.
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