Light in the Attic

The name of the record label – Light in the Attic – suggests the sort of place in which one might stumble upon a lost treasure – say, a long-forgotten painting, a priceless vase, your great-grandparents’ love letters. Or, if you’re LitA’s Matt Sullivan, that treasure could be an obscure Jamaican-Canadian Soul-Funk album from 1970.Tucked away in a nondescript old building off Aurora in Fremont, under a large sign reading INSURANCE, the office of Light in the Attic Records looks exactly the way it should – like a relic of the time period most of its reissues come from, the 1970s. The décor is somewhere between late-period psychedelia, thrift-store chic, and 70’s soft-porn. Most Seattlites probably don’t realize that the people behind some of the most innovative and important reissues of the last five years – from the Lost Prophets to the Free Design to Karen Dalton – are shut away in this modest office, blinds drawn on a sunny day, making things happen.

Matt Sullivan, the label’s visionary and co-founder (LitA publicist Chris Estey calls him “the Wizard”), grew up on the Eastside, but cut his music-industry teeth in Spain working for Vampi Soul and Munster Records (labels for which LitA is now a distributor). Upon moving back to Seattle, Sullivan applied his music-biz knowledge by starting Light in the Attic, which began as a concert production company. Sullivan produced shows by Interpol, Saul Williams, and Clinic, but when he realized he had a bigger vision, he called in friends Josh Wright (the label’s co-founder and business mastermind) and Chris Ferraro (a silent partner who lives in Phoenix). The three came together to release the debut album of the Last Poets, whom Sullivan calls “the first rap group of all time.”

Soon after came a deal to reissue the albums of the Free Design, a jazzy pop group who were active in the late 60’s and early 70’s. There wasn’t a focus on Seattle; the label was more interested in getting worldwide distribution, said Sullivan. “At the time…we didn’t have anything local.”

That changed when LitA released Wheedle’s Groove: Seattle’s Finest in Funk & Soul 1965-1975. Mentions of the record (and the label) started popping up on local radio and in local press.

“I definitely see ourselves as a Seattle label,” Sullivan said. “It’s nice when you tell people outside of Seattle that we’re based in Seattle, because people kind of look to Seattle as a music city.”

The label would work in any other city, but being in Seattle has allowed LitA to benefit from the vibrant scene here, says Sullivan. He cites the booming indie record stores and KEXP as instrumental in the label’s success.

Today, Light in the Attic has two main foci: reissues and new artists. Their current roster includes Helsinki soul artist Nicole Willis, Austin rockers the Black Angels, and Seattle bands the Saturday Knights and the Blakes. It’s the label’s reputation for being conscientious and seeing things through – carefully creating a beautiful end product – that attracts new bands.

“We did the rounds with the majors and eventually realized what a joke they are, said Bob Husak of the Blakes via email. “LitA is ambitious, accessible to us (being local), and they're willing to work hard to make us (and in turn, them) successful. Also, they have impeccable taste.”

While LitA’s small staff handles licensing, distribution, publicity, and radio, Sullivan spends most of his days tracking down people involved with albums the label plans to reissue. This time-intensive process starts with a simple internet search, but can lead to a year-long sleuthing jag.

Sullvan used one LitA release, by Toronto soul artists Wayne McGhie and the sounds of Joy, as an example: “A guy in this group the Sharpshooters, who we used to release, tells me about it. He brings over the LP and I listen to it and I love it, and think, we gotta reissue this. I go to Google, type it in, and there’s maybe 4 or 5 Japanese websites that list it – no information about it, not even a cover, just they want to pay a zillion dollars for it. We start looking up names.”

The label tries to track down every single person involved in an original recording, from assistant engineers to bass players. It’s a nerve-wracking process, one that could be thwarted at any moment – if the artist is deceased, or if another label swoops in, it’s all over. Sullivan admitted his fears regarding the release last year of Karen Dalton’s album, In My Own Time.

The strength of LitA, though, is their ability to devote all their resources to the records they put out -- in almost five years, they’ve released fewer than fifty albums, giving their small staff the chance to focus on tasks like securing the Dalton reissue, even if it means working “a million hours a week,” Sullivan said. Such tenacity is what has gotten the label this far.


Today, the light sparkles off the swimming pool outside Sullivan’s office, and the future looks bright. Bushy-tailed intern Matt Harrow works on fulfilling mail orders, publicist Emily Cohen is trying to track down a sponsorship deal with an independent shoe company, and Estey is on the phone chatting up Entertainment Weekly. Things are happening.

With Light in the Attic’s profile steadily rising – their Betty Davis reissues garnered mentions by high-profile critics in the San Francisco Chronicle and the New Yorker – their plans remain relatively modest. Upcoming releases include a new recording by many of the Wheedle’s Groove artists, and more albums in the label’s Jamaica to Toronto series, of which Wayne McGhie’s was the first.

The plan is to sign some more new artists, but mostly to focus on the reason the label exists in the first place: to make brilliant lost albums available for a new generation of collectors and music lovers.