‘Exploding Trees & Airplane Screams’ – Patterson Hood Returns with Stellar Solo Album

Most people know Patterson Hood as the frontman (really one of two frontmen) for the long-running rock band Drive-By Truckers. Had they come up in the 1970s instead of the ‘90s, the Truckers would have been mentioned in the same breath as bands like Lynyrd Skynyrd and The Allman Brothers Band. Led by Hood and fellow singer-guitarist Mike Cooley, they play kickass Southern rock — but the caveat is that this is intelligent kickass Southern rock. And much of the band’s sensibility is informed by Hood’s unique youth. He grew up in Alabama, but was raised by liberal parents (his dad is legendary Muscle Shoals bassist David Hood). As Patterson says, “Dualities have always been an obsession of mine and to some extent [of] the band itself.”

Over the years, Hood has also kept a solo career going on the side. But his new album, Exploding Trees & Airplane Screams, is unique for a couple of reasons. For one thing, it’s his first solo record in 12 years. For another, it’s a somewhat different beast, musically, from most of his albums – both with and without the Truckers. There’s considerably less guitar-based rock and roll, and other instruments, such as piano and even woodwinds, have been pushed more to the fore.

This is still very much a Patterson Hood disc. You can’t miss his distinct, gravelly vocals. His storytelling – often stories of what it was like to come of age in 1970s Alabama – retains a sharp eye for detail and the aforementioned dualities. There’s a lot of pathos in Hood’s writing, but there’s always some humor as well. Exploding Trees features appearances from the Truckers’ Brad Morgan and Jay Gonzalez (on drums and keyboards, respectively), not to mention Lydia Loveless (on the heartbreaking “A Werewolf and a Girl”), Steve Berlin, and producer Chris Funk, among others.

Good Country recently had the pleasure of catching up with Patterson Hood.

You’ve been very prolific with the Truckers, but Exploding Trees & Airplane Screams is your first solo album in more than a decade. Why a solo album now?

Patterson Hood: That’s a great question. The reason, I guess, is that I’ve been super busy with the band. The Truckers have been in a really good place for over a decade now. So I wasn’t particularly eager to do a side project just for the sake of doin’ one.

But [with] every album, there’s always a couple of songs that somehow get lost in the shuffle. Particularly after the record comes out – they turn out to be great tracks on the record, but they never get played live. So they are kind of forgotten songs that I care a lot about. I kind of started a file some years back for those songs. It’s not that the band can’t play them; the band played the shit out of ‘em. [It’s] more just the way our shows are, the flow of the show, the rooms we play. You know, the emphasis live often gets put on a certain level of rock, for lack of a better way of puttin’ it. There are songs that might be a little more introverted. So I’ve had a stack of those songs that were sitting there.

And I also, about 10 years ago, became friends with [producer] Chris Funk. We would play together from time to time, usually in the Northwest, because we both live in Portland. We had this cool chemistry. So for a long time, we’ve been talking about making a record together. And during the lockdown – when I was stuck and couldn’t go anywhere or do anything – I spent a lotta time up in my music room. I wasn’t really able to write a lot during lockdown, because my brain was just not functioning very well. I was very depressed. It didn’t make for good songs. But I could go back and go through song fragments and hone in on things. I could really edit like crazy! So I spent a lotta time working on those songs – instead of thinking in terms of what I would do in a rock band format, what I would do in not a rock band format. You know, like “I could hear woodwinds on this song!” Things like that.

We cut it pretty quick. But I spent a long time working on it before we recorded it, you know? Including Funk telling me a few months before we went in, “I hope you’re practicing that piano, because I want you to play it on the record.” I’m like, “No, that wasn’t the plan. The plan was to have someone who can actually play the damn thing!” I’m thankful, because if he hadn’t kicked my ass, I probably wouldn’t have played piano, to be honest. It forced me out of my comfort zone, which I think was as much the point as anything for him. I think he wanted to keep me in a state of perpetual terror! [Laughs]

I had been wondering if that was you playing most of the piano, whether it was Jay Gonzalez or someone else?

I played a lot of it. I mean, I’m not playing all of it; Jay’s definitely playin’ on it. And I think Funk and I both play piano on one song. Funk played a lotta synthesizers. Jay’s playing some old vintage weirdo keyboards that have names that I can’t even remember. Phil Cook played that organ part on “The Forks of Cypress” too. But as far as the songs that seem to be built around a simple piano part – that tends to be me. That’s what I play: simple piano parts! [Laughs] I’m not Randy Newman.

Can I ask you about a few of the specific tracks? I understand that “Exploding Trees” was based on an actual event.

Yeah. It was kind of like a meteorological phenomenon, I guess. It was in my hometown in February of 1994. It was right before my 30th birthday [and] right before I moved to Athens, Georgia. The weather had been warm and it rained a lot for a couple of weeks. It just rained and rained, you know? Borderline flood conditions. There’s a lot of pine trees, particularly in my home area. And they all got completely waterlogged by all the rain and with the warm temperatures.

Then there was this sudden freeze; the temperature dropped like 40 degrees in a couple of hours. And all the water in those trees froze. Particularly those pine trees – I guess they splinter easier anyway. The trees basically exploded all over town, kind of at the same time. Thousands of fucking trees! I mean, flattening cars, buildings, people. It was really awful. … And I had been out of town. I had ironically visited Athens a couple of nights before for the very first time – which directly led to me living there shortly after. I was driving back home as it happened; I basically drove right into the middle of it. I was trying to get to my grandmother’s house to check on her. I got to the house and there were, like, pieces of trees that had gone through the roof. And I couldn’t find her anywhere. [It turns out] she was fine. She was at a neighbor’s house.

I love the line “beauty queens in hospital gowns.”

Right. Well, one of the worst injuries of this storm was a girl I knew. I worked at a restaurant with her. She had just won Miss UNA, the beauty pageant, and was like two weeks away from going to compete for Miss Alabama. Lovely, lovely young woman. Very sweet – super Christian. And an oak tree fell on her car, with her in it. And it knocked her head down into her body cavity. It completely pulverized her neck and back – but she lived! She’s a quadriplegic [now, but] that accident led to [that line].

Oh God. That’s awful.

It feels like there’s a theme on a few songs of reckoning – coming to terms with past events, maybe.

Sure. Or trying to make sense of things. “Miss Coldiron’s Oldsmobile” – I was too young when that was happening to really wrap my head around what all of that meant. But as an adult, you can go, “Okay. She was being gaslighted, you know?” Every time she would ask for money, she’d get reminded of the mental hospital she had spent some time in. Things like that. It was pretty fucking insidious.

“The Van Pelt Parties” – you know, that was some of my first experiences with drinking and how adults partied. I was a little kid, sneaking booze from the punchbowl. I was the only kid at the party and we would go every year. And the older I got, the drunker I got. And the grownups were too drunk to notice! [Laughs]

Was Van Pelt a part of Alabama?

They were a family. He was a college professor, she was a schoolteacher. Their daughter was a painter who had been my babysitter. And my parents were right in the middle of their ages – kind of ended up becoming friends with all of them, with the daughter and the parents. So they were a big presence in my life growing up. You know, I loved ‘em. Their daughter, who’d been my babysitter, taught me a lot of cool stuff. She turned me on to some cool music. I actually have a painting she made after tripping on acid at a Doobie Brothers concert!

Maybe it was because we were young, but I think the ’70s had a much cooler vibe than the present.

Well, about anything’s better than [now]. I hate saying this so bad because I’m not prone to romanticizing the past; I’ve always rebelled against glory days. But right now sucks! The level of fucking misinformation and just the insanity right now is so insidious. It’s hard right now not to feel a certain amount of nostalgia for any time in the past.

You and Mike Cooley have been playing together for almost 40 years or more. And other members of the Truckers have come and gone. But the drummer, Brad Morgan, has been with you guys forever and we don’t hear a lot about him. Tell me a little about Brad and what he brings to the band.

The band wouldn’t exist without Brad. Brad was the glue that kept all this crazy shit together all these years. You know, he’s that guy that’s really even-keeled. And he brought that to the table at times when the band was far too tumultuous and emotional for our own good. We call him Easy B. There’s a golden rule in the band and that’s “Don’t piss off Easy B!” Because if you’re fucking up enough to where Easy B gets mad at you, you are fucking up! And you don’t want the phone call from Easy B! He doesn’t get mad often so if he’s mad, there’s a good reason for it and you better take heed. He’s also a colossal drummer. He so often takes such a subtle approach to things that people don’t realize what a bad-ass drummer he is.

I know you have some solo dates lined up. What can people look forward to when you’re touring with this album? I assume it’ll be a little different than a Truckers show?

Yeah! Very different. But at the same time, it’s the same universe. [Lydia Loveless] is in the band that’s touring this record. She’s gonna open the show and she’s gonna play bass and sing harmonies in my band.

I think anyone who’s into the Truckers – if they can tolerate my voice, they’ll probably like this too. [Laughs] If you’re there for the big frontal assault and guitars and sweat and spit that comes with a Truckers show, it’s very different. Although I’m not ruling out those things happening, too. But it’s a quieter show. It’s gonna be built around these songs, with some other stuff that stylistically or thematically works with this. And it’s cool.


Photo Credit: Jason Thrasher

BGS Top 50 Moments: Newport Folk Festival

Dylan going electric in 1965. Lomax making his historic archive recordings in 1966. Joni taking the stage after 50-something years in 2022. Newport Folk is a festival full of milestone moments and lots of surprises. And for a brief moment in time in 2014, BGS was a small part of Newport Folk Fest’s long and storied history too, when we presented our Bluegrass Situation Workshop Stage inside the intimate Whaling Museum building on Sunday at the Fort.

Amidst a festival lineup that included such stalwarts as Nickel Creek, Trampled by Turtles, Dawes, Valerie June, Hozier, Jack White, and Mavis Staples, the BGS crew – helmed by co-founder Ed Helms and his Lonesome Trio bandmates Ian Riggs and Jake Tilove – hosted a few “up and coming” acts we were very excited about, singing songs about significant “firsts” in their lives. Some of those young whippersnappers you might have heard of, like Shakey Graves (joined by Chris Funk of the Decemberists and Langhorne Slim), Aoife O’Donovan, Wilie Watson (with special guest Sean Watkins), and Watchhouse (who were still going by Mandolin Orange at the time), which marked Andrew and Emily’s very first – but certainly not last – appearance at Newport.

That big “first” for us was significant – to be welcomed into the “Folk” Family and made to feel like we were all part of something big and wonderful. And it’s that feeling that’s brought us back to the Fort year after year ever since.


Photos by Samara Vise

BGS Top 50 Moments: A Tribute to Jerry Garcia

 

If my words did glow with the gold of sunshine
And my tunes were played on the harp unstrung
Would you hear my voice come through the music?
Would you hold it near as it were your own?

On a warm spring evening in Los Angeles, a revered mix of musicians gathered to lift up the legacy of Jerry Garcia and “to hold the music near as it were their own.”  JUBILEE: A Celebration of Jerry Garcia was a very special, one night only benefit concert paying tribute to his 75th birthday, produced by BGS, Goldenvoice, and the Garcia Family.

With an all-star lineup that included the likes of Hiss Golden Messenger, Billy Strings, Molly Tuttle, Margo Price, Stephen Malkmus, Chris Funk, Sam Bush, David Hidalgo (Los Lobos), Jamie Drake, Josh Ritter, and Amos Lee, supported by a house band lead by Benmont Tench and Mike Campbell (of Tom Petty & the Heartbreakers) and Sean and Sara Watkins (of Nickel Creek and Watkins Family Hour), the evening was a love letter to the man whose influence has continued to reach far beyond the confines of the Dead.

Relive some of the amazing collaborations in the photo gallery below:


Photo Credit: Elli Lauren

BGS Long Reads of the Week // June 12

Don’t look now, but we’re approaching the mid-point of June and another week has passed us by. YIKES! Luckily, we have another week’s worth of long reads for you, too!

The long-winding catacombs of the BGS annals and archives have so much to offer. As we share our favorite longer, more in-depth articles, stories, and features to help you pass the time, take a minute to follow us on social media [on FacebookTwitter, and Instagram] so you don’t miss a single #longreadoftheday pick!

This week’s long reads travel from the canyon drives above Hollywood to Pavement to a former Oregon poet laureate to everyone’s favorite five-stringed instrument. Check ’em out.

Stephen Malkmus of Pavement Ventures Down Acoustic Road on New Album

Stephen Malkmus, of the bristly, brainy 1990s indie rock band Pavement, joins a host of fellow alt-rockers in dabbling with folk and acoustic sounds. On a brand new album, Traditional Techniques, which was produced by Chris Funk of the Decemberists, Malkmus expands on the flickers of folk interest that have permeated his career, though he may not claim mastery of any of them. [Read our #CoverStory interview]


Sara Watkins Wants Us to Ride Along on Watkins Family Hour’s brother sister

Earlier this week we celebrated Sara Watkins’ birthday (June 8, for the record) with a revisit to our recent Artist of the Month interview where she walked us through her recent Watkins Family Hour album, brother sister. For the first time in their lifelong musical careers, Sara and her brother Sean focused on creating music centered on their own duo. brother sister was the result. [Celebrate Sara’s birthday with a read]


Aoife O’Donovan Finds Her Heart in the Verse of Others

Aoife O’Donovan’s latest EP, Bull Frogs Croon (And Other Songs), arrived in March. Our Cover Story unspooled the inspiration she gained via poet Peter Sears, the former poet laureate of Oregon, whose verse is utilized in three songs O’Donovan wrote and arranged with Teddy Abrams and Jeremy Kittel. The project is rounded out by a Hazel Dickens cover and a classic folk song, giving listeners a sampling of each of O’Donovan’s folky expertises. [Read the interview]


The Byrds’ Chris Hillman Reflects on Laurel Canyon and Why He Had to Leave

A new, two-part documentary, Laurel Canyon, traces the comings and goings of several generations of folk rockers down Sunset Boulevard and up into the hills. Chris Hillman (The Byrds, The Flying Burrito Brothers), one of the canyon’s earliest and most famous residents, about the new film, the community, the music, the neighborhood, and why he had to leave. [Read the full story]


Mixtape: Ashley Campbell’s Banjo Basics

With her classic 2018 Mixtape banjoist and singer/songwriter Ashley Campbell reinforced the deeply held BGS belief that– MORE!! BANJOS!! From songs by her late, legendary father Glen and her godfather Carl Jackson to classics from folks like J.D. Crowe, John Hartford, and the Dixie Chicks, this mix has a little bit of everything and a whole lot of five-string. [Read & listen]


 

Stephen Malkmus of Pavement Ventures Down an Acoustic Road on New Album

Pop and rock performers of mainstream and indie varieties alike, and their promotional teams, tend to make a production out of explaining sudden embraces of stripped-back production. Often, they spin tales of artistic ennoblement — of Justin Timberlake and John Mayer escaping the glossy trappings of their home genres to do soul searching in more pastoral musical settings; of Kesha and Lady Gaga staking their claims to singer/songwriter approaches that seemed slightly more grounded and organic than the club bangers of their pasts.

They temporarily tether themselves to seemingly sturdy, sincere, rooted approaches, and enlist musical guides and collaborators knowledgeable in those lineages. Even Beck, one of the leading postmodern shape-shifters of the alt-rock era, treated venturing closer to folk as a means of trading a reliance on irony for reflection, and Thurston Moore, long associated with the artfully discordant squall of Sonic Youth, consciously personalized his songwriting approach on an acoustic project that Beck produced.

Stephen Malkmus, whose bristly, brainy 1990s indie rock band Pavement was a distant descendant of Sonic Youth and a contemporary of Beck, isn’t at all oblivious to the fact that there are scripts for lending meaningful context to newly cultivated folk leanings. But Malkmus has carried his slouchy, self-deprecating demeanor into his 50s, and it’s his style to be amiably noncommittal. He’s ventured down the acoustic road himself on an album helmed by Chris Funk of the Decemberists and Black Prairie and wryly titled Traditional Techniques. Coming from Malkmus, that’s not meant to come off as any sort of claim to mastery.

He’s used to being interviewed by general interest outlets, not roots-versed ones, so he tries to temper expectations right off the bat when speaking to BGS, describing his knowledge base of folk forms as “sort of a crude appreciation.” He even tries a bit of deflection: “Chris, who I did the record with, he would be able to speak on more levels than me, you know?”

In reality, Malkmus’ catalog with Pavement and his subsequent band the Jicks betrayed flickers of folk interest. He’s admiring of Bert Jansch’s ’60s-era guitar innovations and appreciative of the Nickel Creek cover that introduced his songwriting to the virtuosic string band pop scene in the early 2000s. And he’s playing his 12-string more than ever.

The 10 tracks he recorded with Funk, bolstered by the contributions of guitarist Matt Sweeney and Qais Essar, renowned player of the rabab (an Afghani cousin of the lute), are accomplished and expansive. Malkmus’ sublimely oblique, thoroughly contemporary meanderings easily merge with spry, spindly rhythms and gently psychedelic interplay. It’s an experiment that paid off, and he stepped away from helping with his kids quarantine homeschooling to offer his measured musings on the making of it.

BGS: In the official narrative around this album, you make its origins sound happenstance — as though you were recording a different kind of project with Chris Funk and happened to get distracted by the acoustic instruments he had lying around.

SM: That’s somewhat true. But I did get into the 12-string guitar. I have all these dad images: “If you try one drug and then you try a pure, stronger version of it, you never want to go back.” That’s what it kind of feels like with the 12-string guitar, going back to the 6-string. Once your fingers get used to it, it’s just chiming and you’re hearing all these overtones. During this bunkering, I’ve been playing a lot.

You’ve downplayed your folk literacy, but I can hear at least a general interest sprinkled throughout your catalog in songs like “We Dance,” “Folk Jam,” “Father to Sister of Thought,” and “Pink India.”

Yeah, that’s true.

What music were you acquainted with in a British folk-rock or psychedelic folk vein that felt relevant to what you wanted to do?

Richard Thompson and the Fairport Convention, the whole British world, and also Bert Jansch that was a huge influence on Led Zeppelin and Fairport Convention. The English tradition, those kinds of spartan arrangements that were kinda catchy too. I guess I like catchy things. I was coming from a Beatles world, like, “Fuck, that’s getting in my head, that melody.” I also felt with the pickers of England, Richard and Sandy Denny, I would hear something catchy in there and grooving. There was, like, a groove.

In some other interviews you’ve mentioned Gordon Lightfoot as a vocal touchstone.

Oh, I love him.

But there were a couple of performances on Traditional Techniques that made me think less of Lightfoot and more of Beck’s Sea Change, like the calm, composed way you sing “Flowin’ Robes.” It made me wonder whether you learned anything from acoustic forays by your alt-rock peers.

Even the first song, “ACC Kirtan,” I thought it back on that one, just because it’s kind of slow and probing. It might be [Beck’s] Mutations instead of Sea Change or something. On all his acoustic albums, he had big world music vibes to it that I could see him jamming out, like throwing a sitar on there or something. Those albums by him, they’re super rich and high fidelity and beautifully recorded by Nigel Godrich. But I guess I don’t really think of those contemporaries when you’re making music at the same time.

How do you relate to the ways that rock or pop musicians’ excursion into folk-leaning forms are presented as personally significant moves, like they’re stripping away the noise and gloss and baring their souls, getting in touch with their roots?

That’s a classic way to see it, right? And also it goes with the sounds; it’s quieter, more direct, versus just naked or whatever.

Everything sort of happens quickly with me. I’ve said a couple times in some interviews, in the back of my mind I always wanted to play an acoustic record of some sort. I just didn’t know how or what to do. I wanted to do it because I thought people would like it too. It wasn’t only just ‘cause I was dying to do it. I also think about what I wanna release and what people might be interested in, and what I think I might be good at, of course. There’s no doubt that I’d think that most people have already heard me that are gonna buy the record. They would like to hear, “What would Steve do in an acoustic environment?”

And of course, we wanna surprise people and do it differently. If you imagined it in your mind, you might not have thought that it would have standup bass and Afghani-American guys playing eastern instruments. We’re sort of aware, or at least I am, of having a little bit of a risk, something gambled, besides not only that you’re just playing quietly. Putting yourself where you’re in a position with people you don’t know; we don’t really know how it’s gonna sound, a little more like a jazz situation in some ways. I didn’t really know what people were gonna play, but I had some rules for Chris and I, which were that we were gonna play it all live in the studio, and the drums were gonna be real quiet, and the bass too.

How much of the album would you say reflects you adapting to or embracing different musical forms and how much is you just framing the thing you do differently?

In the end, for better or worse, I feel like it’s just me putting a version on what I do. Because if you’re just self-aware, what is it really but that? When you’re writing the songs, you can imitate other people in your mind. There’s a lot of that going on. As you run through different ways to approach a riff, you’re usually thinking of not of yourself at first: “This kinda sounds like Led Zeppelin or PJ Harvey,” real basic broad strokes. Then I riff off that. I try to think of the best way. And also in the communal [setting], listen to other people; it’s really important to not have stuck to your own thing.

I’ve gotten the sense that people coming to this music with a working knowledge of your catalog with Pavement and the Jicks find some of these songs, like “What Kind of Person,” to be softer or more sentimental by comparison. Did you think at all about the kinds of tones that people tend to associate with singer-songwriters and folk songs?

Well, I would be thinking that there’s some really deadly serious lyrics about not only “my heart was broken,” but “I’m a poor man that died tragically or whatever and it sucked.” Most of the English ballads are really sad material. You can look at them in a Marxist way or something and say these people were screwed from the outset. I think of folk songs like that, but I also think of Michael Hurley and freaky geniuses like him playing acoustic music in a small bar to stoned people, and it’s not really deadly serious. Sometimes it is for a second, and then it’s funny, or we’re just being together making music, lower stakes. When I say low stakes, the stakes are as simple as just playing with some people in a room, like conjuring up music together, lyrics. Maybe you’re doing them to make the guitarist to your right laugh for a second, rather than make a song for a mother who lost her child young. You know what I mean? [laughs]

You’re talking about the tragic ballad tradition, the stuff that people think of coming over from the British Isles. The modern folk singer-songwriter movement has its own set of expectations in terms of tone and perspective.

Newer stuff, I don’t listen super closely to lyrics or what people are singing about, but it’s usually about love gone wrong.

Wait, you don’t listen that closely to lyrics in general?

Yeah, not really. Sometimes. It really depends. Most things I only listen to once or twice, for better or worse. Of course, other things I dig into super deeply. It’s probably to the detriment of my songwriting or people that like super-tight stuff. A line pops out and I’m like, “That was fuckin’ awesome.” It has to be set up by other things in the song. It’s not like you can just say that line with absolutely nothing around it. I’m more like I hear it in a song, or the way a person sings it, and I love it, rather than looking at it on the written page or thinking of it as just lyrics.

You seem to have a healthy amount of self-awareness about being a musician known for one thing, moving into a different lane.

It’s not only what I think, but also when I played it to other people before I put it out, I listen to others who say, “I like that one.” Or, “Why do you want to release that?” So it’s not only self-awareness but being self-aware enough to ask other people what they think. I think for all musicians, there are certain songs we make that we really like that other people like less. [Laughs]


All photos: Samuel Gehrke

The Decemberists Tackle Table-Top Gaming with Illimat

It's no secret that the Decemberists are seriously multi-talented. The genre-defying ensemble of Portland musicians first won our hearts with the cerebral folk-rock of their 2002 debut album, Castaways and Cutouts. Since then, while continuing to put out stellar music (like their most recent album, 2015's What a Terrible World, What a Beautiful World) band members have dabbled in other projects, including lead vocalist Colin Meloy's foray into the world of children's books with Wildwood, a series he co-created with his wife, illustrator Carson Ellis. 

Now, the band is bringing another project into the world: a table-top game called Illimat. 

Illimat is a two-to-four player table-top adventure designed by indie game phenomenon Keith Baker (of Gloom and Eberron fame) in conjunction with the Decemberists. The game's centerpiece, a cloth "board," is actually a relic of Decemberists days gone by, as it was originally a prop used as part of a fake, mysterious game in photoshoots to promote the band's 2009 album, The Hazards of Love. Inspired by the piece, which was designed by Ellis and photographer Autumn De Wilde, the band decided to make the fake game a reality. 

"It’s a totally backwards way to make anything, to start with a sort of finished product and implore somebody else to deal with it," the band's Chris Funk says with a laugh. "We had a lot of ideas for it — what it would look like and what it would feel like. There’s a famous game designer in Portland named Keith Baker who I had become friends with and I asked if he would work on it with us. He took the game board, which was the photo prop, and he had it sitting in his basement every time I would go over and he was ruminating on what this game could be, based on our asks. Eventually, he’s like, ‘Okay, I got it. Do you guys want to get together?’"

Funk attributes the band's interest in table-top gaming to downtime on the road and credits an increased camaraderie among band members to the analog hobby. "The inspiration for it was simply that, on the road, our band started playing games a few years ago to pass the time, typically in the downtime between soundcheck and showtime," Funk explains. "It’s kind of this lull period where people scamper off to their dark corners. Long story short, we have a lot of time on the road, so we started table-top gaming, which has been really great for community and getting back to ground zero. It’s very popular right now and people are coming back to it, as we get deeper and deeper into technology and people just staring into their phones constantly." 

Baker's Twogether Studios is currently hosting a Kickstarter for Illimat which, at press time, has raised over $205,000 in a little over a week, trumping the project's original goal of $42,812. Kickstarter backers have a number of support packages to choose from, with rewards including a limited edition tote bag and an official lapel pin. Funk attributes the project's success both to Baker's expertise and to the ever-growing table-top gaming community. 

"We did our homework and we worked with Keith Baker, who is, again, a very famous game designer," Funk says. "There’s a lot of muscle behind releasing the game. Kickstarter has become, for gaming, a really successful place. The people at Kickstarter have their own games division, which is really exciting. It’s become a platform to find out about new games."

As of now, Funk expects the game to be available for sale online by late Spring or early Summer of 2017. He also offered a glimmer of hope for fans of the band's music, hinting that, while the game is a primary focus right now, new music is on their radar, too. "We’ll get busy and start doing something next year and see where it takes us," he says. "But nothing solid and nothing to announce, just games."

MIXTAPE: Chris Funk

BLACK PRAIRIE‘s name has been popping up just about everywhere this month.  The Portland-based five piece band, which includes several members of The Decemberists, has appeared on countless Top Ten lists for their remarkable 2012 album A Tear in the Eye is a Wound in the Heart, garnering praise from the likes of NPR, Magnet, and Folk Alley.  But what songs and artists have been in heavy rotation for the members of BP?  Multi-instumentalist CHRIS FUNK, gave us a peek into his top picks for this month’s MIXTAPE (and those with a keen eye just might notice a theme…).

Track:  I Swear
Artist: Sallie Ford and The Sound Outside

‘Great Portland band that we like to collaborate with.  Plus our fiddler Annalisa’s brother is in the band!’

 

Track:  My Love is a Forest Fire
Artist:  Y La Bamba

‘Friends of ours again from the Rose City.  This song makes me weep.’

 

Track:  Navy Parade
Artist:  Agesandages

‘Guess what!  Another Portland band!  I dare you to buy their record and deny how these songs don’t creep around in your head for a month.’

 

Artist:  Caleb Kaluder Band
Track:  Hole In My Heart

‘That music doesn’t sound like Portland.  Rick Roll’d!  They ARE!  They also happen to be half of the Foghorn String band.  Look out!’

 

Track:  Red Pony
Artist:  John Fahey

‘Not from Portland but DIED 40 miles south of us.  I’m in a recently released documentary about his life (shameless plug) called ‘In Search Of Blind Joe Death’ and was reminded with how much I love his music.’

 

You can learn more about Chris and the band at their website www.blackprairie.com