Pert Near Sandstone and The Way Down Wanderers
Under 21 with Guardian
It was roughly a decade ago that Pert Near Sandstone first gathered around a microphone in a Minneapolis basement to record their debut album, 'Up And Down The River.' So much has happened since then: highs and lows, personal struggles and artistic triumphs, new faces and new sounds. The winding road they've traveled over the years makes it all the more meaningful for the band to come full circle on their dazzling new release, 'Discovery Of Honey,' which finds them once again recording in a basement and reuniting with founding member Ryan Young, who's spent the past seven years touring the world playing fiddle with bluegrass stars Trampled By Turtles."Besides playing with us, Ryan was also our first recording engineer back when we were just starting out," says mandolin/fiddle player Nate Sipe. "Working with him again on the new album, we were able to recapture that feeling of lightning in a bottle from the early days."
"We all learned how to do this together," adds banjo player Kevin Kniebel. "We have more tools in our kit now and we've evolved as musicians and songwriters, but what hasn't changed is the chemistry between us."
That chemistry has been abundantly clear from the very first days of Pert Near Sandstone, when the band—whose current lineup features Sipe and Kniebel, founding guitarist J Lenz, bassist Justin Bruhn, and clog & fiddle player Matt Cartier—burst onto the American roots music scene in a flurry of fiddling, picking, and stomping. They followed their debut record with a string of four critically acclaimed albums that had No Depression hailing them as "stellar" and The Minneapolis Star Tribune praising their songs as "masterfully and jubilantly plucked." NPR's Mountain Stage celebrated the band's "Midwestern stamp on Appalachian [sounds]," while The Current described their live performances as "a frenzied string shredding spree that takes audiences under its spell."
The band earned performances everywhere from the prestigious Telluride Bluegrass Festival to A Prairie Home Companion, and shared bills on the road with the likes of Trampled By Turtles, Del McCoury, and Yonder Mountain String Band. As their reputation grew, they cemented their status as linchpins of the Midwestern scene by founding their very own festival, Blue Ox, which has featured performances by Bela Fleck, Preservation Hall Jazz Band, Shovels & Rope, Justin Townes Earle, Blitzen Trapper, and more.
"People get really wrapped up in genre and labeling," explains Kniebel, "but Blue Ox allows us to showcase all these different aspects of roots and American music that are really important to us and to the fabric of folk music today."
"Whether you have drums and an electric guitar or a jug and a fiddle, it's all part of the same voice," adds Sipe. "It's a blessing to be able to present a festival that can incorporate all of those elements."
That same voracious musical appetite and disregard for the strictures of genre and tradition fuel much the music on 'Discovery Of Honey,' which finds the band setting their sights higher than ever before and pushing the complexity of their songwriting and the sheer energy of their performances to remarkable new peaks. With Young back in the fold recording and co-producing, the band gathered just outside of Minneapolis at their old friend's new home—which had originally been constructed by an end-times prepper to withstand a nuclear apocalypse—for the recording sessions.
"There's a huge ham radio tower in the back and catacombs of rooms with storage for cans and everything," explains Sipe. "The two-foot-thick concrete walls of the bomb shelter had a 1-inch iron plate in the middle, and when they were wiring up the house, the electrician couldn't even get through it at first."
It proved to be the perfect mix of seclusion and comfort, with the basement serving as both a familiar setting and an ideal place for Pert Near Sandstone to unleash their explosion of string band energy and excitement. Sitting in a circle and performing live together, they knocked out basic tracking for the album in just two-and-a-half days. Over the following weeks, they'd revisit the songs individually, cutting vocals and solos and experimenting with layering up additional sounds to flesh out the rich, acoustic orchestration.
The album kicks off with the stately "Bloom Again," a Kniebel-penned track about the fragility and beauty of love. Propelled by clawhammer banjo and tremolo mandolin, the track features rich, triumphant harmonies and rides on a wave of ethereal organ swells, showing off the folkier side of the band's personality. They follow it up with a trip to the opposite end of the spectrum on the rollicking, rag-time, jugband-inspired "Nothing I Can Do," from which the album draws its title.
"'Discovery Of Honey' really encapsulated the overall theme of the record," says Sipe. "A lot of the songs are about finding a new fertile ground, about approaching love for the first time again."
Indeed, several of the tracks (including Kniebel's "Uncover Me" and Sipe's "Again And Again") look at old love in new ways, but the album covers a broad spectrum, both musically and thematically. "Rattlesnake" is a breakneck fiddle-tune inspired by Sipe's relocation to southern California and his forays into the desert, while the toe-tapping "Bay Road" came to him during a solo retreat to a family cabin in central Minnesota, and "Don't Need You" is a fingerstyle blues written by Lenz in the tradition of Charlie Parr or Spider John Koerner. In addition, Bruhn contributed his first writing credits on the album with "Animal Instinct" and "Biting My Nails," an unplanned recording that found the band pushing themselves to experiment with detuning their instruments and layering on unexpected sounds like pedal steel guitar.
That musical fearlessness is part of what makes the group so difficult to pin down and also such perfect stewards for string band music in the 21st century. The sweetest honey awaits those brave enough to risk being stung, and the band reaps the rewards of their musical courage here in spades. 'Discovery Of Honey' is Pert Near Sandstone's finest work to date, and that's buzz you can believe in.
https://pertnearsandstone.com/
The Way Down Wanderers sing like angels but write songs with guts that are unmistakably earthbound: a soon-to-be dad, excited but scared, fighting for self-growth; someone recovering from alcohol dependency, devoted to healing but with a confession to make––there are no fairytales here. And yet, the music begs an unapologetically Pollyanna question, like a big-hearted dare: Can a song help save you?
“I think when we strive to be the best versions of ourselves, and to accept other people that we don’t understand, that all works toward creating a culture we strive for,” says Collin Krause, one of The Way Down Wanderers’ two lead songwriters and vocalists. “Part of that process really is working on yourself––and self-forgiveness. At the end of the day, we’re not going to be perfect. The idea is to recognize that, and to try to forgive yourself if you can––and to try to move on and make progress.”
“Right,” adds Austin Krause-Thompson, the band’s other frontman and core writer. “And this record does lend itself to some of those messages.”
Austin and Collin are discussing More Like Tomorrow, the Way Down Wanderers’ third full-length release. The project is the anticipated follow-up to their 2019 breakthrough album Illusions, which earned praise from Rolling Stone Country, No Depression, Relix, and more. The band's gorgeous harmonies and string-band virtuosity still anchor the new album, but the sonic borders the Way Down Wanderers once flirted with crossing have been beautifully breached. Their lyricism has also evolved, giving way to true stories that cut deep. “I think more so on this record than ever, the songs are just more direct, with acute meanings in our own situations,” says Austin. “Each’s song’s story is less broad. I think, at least for me, writing is definitely growing more and more personal.”
With More Like Tomorrow, the five-piece band from Peoria, Illinois, has emerged not just as quirky bluegrass kids with a habit of experimentation, but as confident purveyors of some of the most sophisticated roots-pop anywhere.
“I love it when the song itself dictates the sonic arrangement––the pop sensibilities or Americana we can throw in there,” Collin says. “I think just allowing the song to exist as its own entity is really important.”
Every song on More Like Tomorrow stands alone but works with the group to achieve something bigger––much like the Way Down Wanderers themselves. Collin and Austin met as teenagers––at 15 and 19, respectively. Multi-instrumentalist Austin was drumming in a rock band at the time, while Collin was playing mandolin and fiddle in a bluegrass-leaning folk outfit. The two felt like brothers fast. A few years later, Austin married Collin’s older sister, making the two men who met and connected as boys actual family.
To form the Way Down Wanderers, Collin and Austin welcomed jazz percussionist John Merikoski, classical upright bassist John Williams, and banjo player Travis Kowalsky. The quintet’s years on the road have built a devoted grassroots following, which the band cherishes. Collin points to the connection with audiences as a key cultivator of their latest songwriting. “Having a group that listens and absorbs your music who you can identify with as a community rather than just fans opens us up as writers to feel more comfortable about openly discussing personal things that we’ve been through in a song,” he says.
Album opener “Codeine, Rest, & Loneliness” is a stunning example of what the Way Down Wanderers can do with that comfort. Co-written by Collin and Austin, the song is a breathtaking vocal and instrumental showcase, filled with soaring harmonies, intimate solos, and dizzying strings. Part mournful cry, part joyful tribute, “Codeine, Rest, & Loneliness” was inspired by the loss of two friends who died young. Both of the writers count the song as their favorite on the record.
With piano-pounding, jam-band swagger and a message of interconnectivity and hope, “The Wire” is a singalong just waiting to be shouted back to the stage. Leaning into a scratchy pop-train beat, “Hard Times” points to the rejuvenation made possible in the trenches of tough stuff. With poignant guitar tone that rings out like a bell and tender lead vocals, “Dark Marks” rests easily and gratefully in the comfort of home and love.
Stark bass kicks off “Forever,” a moving meditation on the changes demanded after becoming a parent. “My wife and I recently had a son, and it’s been absolutely amazing, but it’s definitely brought about some of the more stressful situations we’ve been through,” Austin says. “Having kids just shows you parts of yourself that you need to fix. It really shows you what you need to do to be the best person you can be––more so than anything else I’ve found.” Bouncing “Two Parts One Heart” captures fatherhood’s wonder and joy in line after witty line.
A feat of melodic funk, “Hiding” is a warm embrace of self, from expression to acceptance. Full of claps and stomps, jaunty album closer “Everything’s Made of Sand” peddles kindness for kindness’ sake rather than to please a higher power, and luxuriating in transience instead of fearing it.
Highlights “Parkside Drive” and “Love is My Gospel” carry the record’s overarching messages of self-accountability and love in different ways. Heart-heavy but determined, “Parkside Drive” relies on vulnerable vocals that swell into a chorus of powerful repetition. Collin wrote the song, a complex dual narrative inspired by true stories. As he documents his own recovery from alcohol dependency, Collin also memorializes a neighbor who sometimes wanted a little more time than Collin wanted to give. Suffering in silence, the neighbor ultimately took his own life. Collin pays tribute, searches for strength, absolves himself, and commits to a better standard in less than three mesmerizing minutes. “I guess I felt a personal responsibility to write the song, and it was a hard song to write. It’s a really emotional song to perform,” he says. “I think it’s some of the most vulnerable lyrics I’ve ever written. I also think it’s crucial to my recovery process. It’s affected the way I treat people or even think of strangers.”
Warm and full, “Love is My Gospel” balances gratitude for love and partnership with the knowledge that everyone doesn’t have it. Praise for love as a guide rolls into musings on inequality and privilege. “I have this idea as a writer that a song doesn’t have to follow one specific message,” Collin says. “I was just realizing how fortunate I am in my life to have a partner I love so much, but then, I was thinking simultaneously about how there is a lot of sorrow in the world. Just being a white person in America––my privilege could be the cause of someone else’s deprivation. That’s something I try to be aware of.” The messages emerge as two sides of the same coin: By trusting love, we are open to empathy––which means we must hold space for sorrow and other’s experiences. The song is masterpiece of writing and performance.
Working in that sweet spot where self-acceptance and rejection of the status-quo collide, the Way Down Wanderers hope listeners can find their own personal applications and understandings of the new songs. “Connection, release, relatability––maybe hope, or confidence, or reassurance,” Austin says. “I hope that people kind of weave these messages into their lives in their own positive way.”
https://thewaydownwanderers.com/
It was roughly a decade ago that Pert Near Sandstone first gathered around a microphone in a Minneapolis basement to record their debut album, 'Up And Down The River.' So much has happened since then: highs and lows, personal struggles and artistic triumphs, new faces and new sounds. The winding road they've traveled over the years makes it all the more meaningful for the band to come full circle on their dazzling new release, 'Discovery Of Honey,' which finds them once again recording in a basement and reuniting with founding member Ryan Young, who's spent the past seven years touring the world playing fiddle with bluegrass stars Trampled By Turtles."Besides playing with us, Ryan was also our first recording engineer back when we were just starting out," says mandolin/fiddle player Nate Sipe. "Working with him again on the new album, we were able to recapture that feeling of lightning in a bottle from the early days."
"We all learned how to do this together," adds banjo player Kevin Kniebel. "We have more tools in our kit now and we've evolved as musicians and songwriters, but what hasn't changed is the chemistry between us."
That chemistry has been abundantly clear from the very first days of Pert Near Sandstone, when the band—whose current lineup features Sipe and Kniebel, founding guitarist J Lenz, bassist Justin Bruhn, and clog & fiddle player Matt Cartier—burst onto the American roots music scene in a flurry of fiddling, picking, and stomping. They followed their debut record with a string of four critically acclaimed albums that had No Depression hailing them as "stellar" and The Minneapolis Star Tribune praising their songs as "masterfully and jubilantly plucked." NPR's Mountain Stage celebrated the band's "Midwestern stamp on Appalachian [sounds]," while The Current described their live performances as "a frenzied string shredding spree that takes audiences under its spell."
The band earned performances everywhere from the prestigious Telluride Bluegrass Festival to A Prairie Home Companion, and shared bills on the road with the likes of Trampled By Turtles, Del McCoury, and Yonder Mountain String Band. As their reputation grew, they cemented their status as linchpins of the Midwestern scene by founding their very own festival, Blue Ox, which has featured performances by Bela Fleck, Preservation Hall Jazz Band, Shovels & Rope, Justin Townes Earle, Blitzen Trapper, and more.
"People get really wrapped up in genre and labeling," explains Kniebel, "but Blue Ox allows us to showcase all these different aspects of roots and American music that are really important to us and to the fabric of folk music today."
"Whether you have drums and an electric guitar or a jug and a fiddle, it's all part of the same voice," adds Sipe. "It's a blessing to be able to present a festival that can incorporate all of those elements."
That same voracious musical appetite and disregard for the strictures of genre and tradition fuel much the music on 'Discovery Of Honey,' which finds the band setting their sights higher than ever before and pushing the complexity of their songwriting and the sheer energy of their performances to remarkable new peaks. With Young back in the fold recording and co-producing, the band gathered just outside of Minneapolis at their old friend's new home—which had originally been constructed by an end-times prepper to withstand a nuclear apocalypse—for the recording sessions.
"There's a huge ham radio tower in the back and catacombs of rooms with storage for cans and everything," explains Sipe. "The two-foot-thick concrete walls of the bomb shelter had a 1-inch iron plate in the middle, and when they were wiring up the house, the electrician couldn't even get through it at first."
It proved to be the perfect mix of seclusion and comfort, with the basement serving as both a familiar setting and an ideal place for Pert Near Sandstone to unleash their explosion of string band energy and excitement. Sitting in a circle and performing live together, they knocked out basic tracking for the album in just two-and-a-half days. Over the following weeks, they'd revisit the songs individually, cutting vocals and solos and experimenting with layering up additional sounds to flesh out the rich, acoustic orchestration.
The album kicks off with the stately "Bloom Again," a Kniebel-penned track about the fragility and beauty of love. Propelled by clawhammer banjo and tremolo mandolin, the track features rich, triumphant harmonies and rides on a wave of ethereal organ swells, showing off the folkier side of the band's personality. They follow it up with a trip to the opposite end of the spectrum on the rollicking, rag-time, jugband-inspired "Nothing I Can Do," from which the album draws its title.
"'Discovery Of Honey' really encapsulated the overall theme of the record," says Sipe. "A lot of the songs are about finding a new fertile ground, about approaching love for the first time again."
Indeed, several of the tracks (including Kniebel's "Uncover Me" and Sipe's "Again And Again") look at old love in new ways, but the album covers a broad spectrum, both musically and thematically. "Rattlesnake" is a breakneck fiddle-tune inspired by Sipe's relocation to southern California and his forays into the desert, while the toe-tapping "Bay Road" came to him during a solo retreat to a family cabin in central Minnesota, and "Don't Need You" is a fingerstyle blues written by Lenz in the tradition of Charlie Parr or Spider John Koerner. In addition, Bruhn contributed his first writing credits on the album with "Animal Instinct" and "Biting My Nails," an unplanned recording that found the band pushing themselves to experiment with detuning their instruments and layering on unexpected sounds like pedal steel guitar.
That musical fearlessness is part of what makes the group so difficult to pin down and also such perfect stewards for string band music in the 21st century. The sweetest honey awaits those brave enough to risk being stung, and the band reaps the rewards of their musical courage here in spades. 'Discovery Of Honey' is Pert Near Sandstone's finest work to date, and that's buzz you can believe in.
https://pertnearsandstone.com/
The Way Down Wanderers sing like angels but write songs with guts that are unmistakably earthbound: a soon-to-be dad, excited but scared, fighting for self-growth; someone recovering from alcohol dependency, devoted to healing but with a confession to make––there are no fairytales here. And yet, the music begs an unapologetically Pollyanna question, like a big-hearted dare: Can a song help save you?
“I think when we strive to be the best versions of ourselves, and to accept other people that we don’t understand, that all works toward creating a culture we strive for,” says Collin Krause, one of The Way Down Wanderers’ two lead songwriters and vocalists. “Part of that process really is working on yourself––and self-forgiveness. At the end of the day, we’re not going to be perfect. The idea is to recognize that, and to try to forgive yourself if you can––and to try to move on and make progress.”
“Right,” adds Austin Krause-Thompson, the band’s other frontman and core writer. “And this record does lend itself to some of those messages.”
Austin and Collin are discussing More Like Tomorrow, the Way Down Wanderers’ third full-length release. The project is the anticipated follow-up to their 2019 breakthrough album Illusions, which earned praise from Rolling Stone Country, No Depression, Relix, and more. The band's gorgeous harmonies and string-band virtuosity still anchor the new album, but the sonic borders the Way Down Wanderers once flirted with crossing have been beautifully breached. Their lyricism has also evolved, giving way to true stories that cut deep. “I think more so on this record than ever, the songs are just more direct, with acute meanings in our own situations,” says Austin. “Each’s song’s story is less broad. I think, at least for me, writing is definitely growing more and more personal.”
With More Like Tomorrow, the five-piece band from Peoria, Illinois, has emerged not just as quirky bluegrass kids with a habit of experimentation, but as confident purveyors of some of the most sophisticated roots-pop anywhere.
“I love it when the song itself dictates the sonic arrangement––the pop sensibilities or Americana we can throw in there,” Collin says. “I think just allowing the song to exist as its own entity is really important.”
Every song on More Like Tomorrow stands alone but works with the group to achieve something bigger––much like the Way Down Wanderers themselves. Collin and Austin met as teenagers––at 15 and 19, respectively. Multi-instrumentalist Austin was drumming in a rock band at the time, while Collin was playing mandolin and fiddle in a bluegrass-leaning folk outfit. The two felt like brothers fast. A few years later, Austin married Collin’s older sister, making the two men who met and connected as boys actual family.
To form the Way Down Wanderers, Collin and Austin welcomed jazz percussionist John Merikoski, classical upright bassist John Williams, and banjo player Travis Kowalsky. The quintet’s years on the road have built a devoted grassroots following, which the band cherishes. Collin points to the connection with audiences as a key cultivator of their latest songwriting. “Having a group that listens and absorbs your music who you can identify with as a community rather than just fans opens us up as writers to feel more comfortable about openly discussing personal things that we’ve been through in a song,” he says.
Album opener “Codeine, Rest, & Loneliness” is a stunning example of what the Way Down Wanderers can do with that comfort. Co-written by Collin and Austin, the song is a breathtaking vocal and instrumental showcase, filled with soaring harmonies, intimate solos, and dizzying strings. Part mournful cry, part joyful tribute, “Codeine, Rest, & Loneliness” was inspired by the loss of two friends who died young. Both of the writers count the song as their favorite on the record.
With piano-pounding, jam-band swagger and a message of interconnectivity and hope, “The Wire” is a singalong just waiting to be shouted back to the stage. Leaning into a scratchy pop-train beat, “Hard Times” points to the rejuvenation made possible in the trenches of tough stuff. With poignant guitar tone that rings out like a bell and tender lead vocals, “Dark Marks” rests easily and gratefully in the comfort of home and love.
Stark bass kicks off “Forever,” a moving meditation on the changes demanded after becoming a parent. “My wife and I recently had a son, and it’s been absolutely amazing, but it’s definitely brought about some of the more stressful situations we’ve been through,” Austin says. “Having kids just shows you parts of yourself that you need to fix. It really shows you what you need to do to be the best person you can be––more so than anything else I’ve found.” Bouncing “Two Parts One Heart” captures fatherhood’s wonder and joy in line after witty line.
A feat of melodic funk, “Hiding” is a warm embrace of self, from expression to acceptance. Full of claps and stomps, jaunty album closer “Everything’s Made of Sand” peddles kindness for kindness’ sake rather than to please a higher power, and luxuriating in transience instead of fearing it.
Highlights “Parkside Drive” and “Love is My Gospel” carry the record’s overarching messages of self-accountability and love in different ways. Heart-heavy but determined, “Parkside Drive” relies on vulnerable vocals that swell into a chorus of powerful repetition. Collin wrote the song, a complex dual narrative inspired by true stories. As he documents his own recovery from alcohol dependency, Collin also memorializes a neighbor who sometimes wanted a little more time than Collin wanted to give. Suffering in silence, the neighbor ultimately took his own life. Collin pays tribute, searches for strength, absolves himself, and commits to a better standard in less than three mesmerizing minutes. “I guess I felt a personal responsibility to write the song, and it was a hard song to write. It’s a really emotional song to perform,” he says. “I think it’s some of the most vulnerable lyrics I’ve ever written. I also think it’s crucial to my recovery process. It’s affected the way I treat people or even think of strangers.”
Warm and full, “Love is My Gospel” balances gratitude for love and partnership with the knowledge that everyone doesn’t have it. Praise for love as a guide rolls into musings on inequality and privilege. “I have this idea as a writer that a song doesn’t have to follow one specific message,” Collin says. “I was just realizing how fortunate I am in my life to have a partner I love so much, but then, I was thinking simultaneously about how there is a lot of sorrow in the world. Just being a white person in America––my privilege could be the cause of someone else’s deprivation. That’s something I try to be aware of.” The messages emerge as two sides of the same coin: By trusting love, we are open to empathy––which means we must hold space for sorrow and other’s experiences. The song is masterpiece of writing and performance.
Working in that sweet spot where self-acceptance and rejection of the status-quo collide, the Way Down Wanderers hope listeners can find their own personal applications and understandings of the new songs. “Connection, release, relatability––maybe hope, or confidence, or reassurance,” Austin says. “I hope that people kind of weave these messages into their lives in their own positive way.”
https://thewaydownwanderers.com/