Schmidt’s Tobacco & Trading—known simply as the Pub—is more than a bar. It’s a place where conversations happen naturally, where strangers sit together, and where creative lives quietly intersect.
I’ve been going there since 2005.
Over the years, the Pub has been as essential to my musical life as any studio or session I’ve ever been part of. Not because of what happens on stage, but because of what happens at the tables.
The first thing people notice is the volume. It’s low enough to talk. Really talk. The seating encourages shared space rather than isolation. The room assumes you’re there to connect, even if all you plan to do is have a beer and listen.
That assumption matters.
In 2024, I made a conscious decision to re-enter community. To show up more, listen more, and reconnect with the people around me who were actually making music—not online, not hypothetically, but in real time.
The Pub made that easy.
I started sitting with people I didn’t know. Conversations unfolded naturally. Music came up. Projects came up. Lives came up. Some of those conversations turned into sessions. Some into collaborations. Some into friendships that now shape the rhythm of my weeks.
In the last year and a half, I’ve met musicians, engineers, producers, composers, designers, and artists of all kinds at the Pub. Some are now part of Panama Sound’s extended community. Some are people I trust for advice. Some are simply familiar faces that make the room feel grounded and alive.
You never really know who you’re sitting next to—or how important that conversation might become later.
The Pub matters to Panama Sound because it embodies the same values the studio is built on:
real connection, respect for people’s time and energy, and the belief that good work comes from environments where people feel safe enough to be themselves.
The same tone that makes the Pub work—low ego, high curiosity, unforced attention—is the tone I protect in every session.
If you spend enough time around Panama Sound, you’ll probably end up there. It’s where finished projects get celebrated, where long days unwind, and where the next collaborator often appears without fanfare.
It’s a reminder that music isn’t just something you capture in a room. It’s something you live alongside other people who care.
Pubsters: Documenting the Faces of the Community
Between 2022 and 2023, I began documenting the people who made the Pub feel like home.
The goal wasn’t polish. It was presence. I wanted to capture people as they were—unposed, unguarded, fully themselves. Some were amused. Some were hesitant. Most eventually leaned in.
Communities change. People move. New faces arrive. What stays constant is the feeling of the room during a particular moment in time.
The Pubsters 2022 and Pubsters 2023 collections are simply records of that moment—faces, expressions, and quiet histories that form the background of the creative network Panama Sound grew from.
Both collections are still available if you want to see the people behind the conversations.
Schmidt’s Tobacco & Trading is located in Albany, California, and if you’re looking for me and I’m not at the studio, there’s a good chance I’m there.
Schmidt’s Tobacco & Trading
1492 Solano Ave., Albany, CA 94706