Interview: The Wild Feathers tighten brotherly bonds with ‘Greetings from the Neon Frontier’ -

Taylor Burns, Ricky Young, Joel King and Ben Dumas have been together for eight years. That’s almost an eternity in the music business. The Wild Feathers‘ first proper studio record, 2013’s self-titled, produced by industry titan Jay Joyce (Eric Church, Brandy Clark, Little Big Town), cemented their groovy, genre-blurring template. Comparisons to ’70s country-rock gods The Eagles were and are inevitable but only with their newly-released third album, Greetings from the Neon Frontier, did that parallel make total sense.

From the shiny jingle of “Wildfire” to the guitar-slapping “No Man’s Land” to the rambling of “Golden Days,” The Wild Feathers feel like they’ve finally come into their own. Echoes of the past are seared into the album’s hide, exerting a relentless and altogether timeless electricity. “Quittin’ Time,” which opens the album, is the kind of honky-tonk shuffle that throws caution to the wind. It’s as warm as a leather jacket slipped onto shivering bare shoulders at last call when the midnight chill is just setting in. Burns and Young trade off vocal duties, a rather endearing shift patrol that further illustrates their strength and devotion to not only the song-craft but each other. They’ve split their bodies and their time and a growing sense of unease between home life and the open road, taking a much needed hiatus before putting down the new gaggle of songs. Three of the four bandmates had kids, but that proved to be a suitable time to reconfigure their approach.

Greetings from the Neon Frontier, which sees Joyce return to the producer’s chair, perhaps for the last time for the band, more on that below, culls together “all the venues, dance halls and bars we tend to spend a lot of time in on the road and even here at home,” says Burns over a recent phone call with B-Sides & Badlands. And so, the album’s title only made sense in the grander scheme of the stories they sought to uncover. Their lives, too, never seem to slow down much, flickering, fizzing and sometimes blowing out completely like a neon sign you might see at a truck-stop out in the middle of nowhere, middle America. The once-vibrant hues of pink, blue, red and green now are only ghosts roaming the halls of yesteryear. But it’s comforting, and the discontent life might provide seems to subside ⎯⎯ at least for the time being.

That’s The Wild Feathers for you. “Stand by You,” coos and all, is effervescent and joyously sobering, another moment of clarity that waxes romantic about a lover (“You stand by me, I stand by you / There ain’t nothing we can’t get through”). “All those experiences [we] gathered along the way and all the people we met and all those shared stories, collectively, as a band, brought us here, creatively and spiritually and everything else,” reflects Burns. “We kind of took it back to basics as far as how we write songs and how we approached the first record. It kind of came full circle after touring so much.”

Even when they’re licking their wounds and finally learning to let go (“Sometimes the love, it’s just not enough,” Burns sings on “Two Broken Hearts,” not a trace of bitterness in his voice) or grasping for a shred of solace (“Hold onto Love”), there is an irresistible camaraderie buried deep within the album’s walls. You could easily pinpoint their creamy harmony work as the logical conductor for such a towering presence, but it’s their history, their tireless passion for the work itself and the understanding that the relationships they’ve forged are what really matter. “It’s hard to put into words into a distinct thing. I think the main thing we learned as a band is just to stand by one another and to hang in there together and that as long as as we’re united then we were a force to be reckoned with,” says Burns, “and don’t let people divide us or get into our heads. Don’t get too negative about what’s going on. We’ve been road-dogging for a lot of years now, and we’d hoped to be a little further than we are in our career. But I think us sticking by each other and doubling down and really just believing no matter what has kept us together.”

In the age of speedy social feeds, it’s pretty easy to get trapped in your own head. A recent Twitter exchange got Burns thinking about a lot of things, but most of all: the looming feeling of still being the new kids on the block. “We do feel like we have to prove ourselves, and we relish the opportunity. We like going out there and trying to blow people off the stage or just put on a hell of a show and to make people take notice.”

But, he stresses, he doesn’t exactly see them as inhabiting this “new but not new” space. “I think it could be for a lot of people, and sometimes, it’s a little frustrating. I’ll go back to our mentality. We’re all very humble and grateful that we get to play music for a living, regardless. So, if this is where our path leads, and this is what we’re going to go down, we’re not going to be spiteful or resentful that we’re not further along,” he says. “We’re just going to put our heads down and go to work and try to put on the best show we can do and try to write the best songs. Everything else is out of our control. I think if you tried to try to worry about that other stuff too much, you’ll drive yourself crazy, and you’ll burn out. It’s an exercise in futility.”

From beginning to end, Greetings from the Neon Frontier feels like a special, perhaps barrier-shattering, moment for the band. It’s whittled with heart and grit and is never so throwback you get lost in time. It’s woven with great care, and every syllable, guitar lick, drum pitter-patter is wrought with the purpose of moving the listener to feel something. Burns, Young, King and Dumas are simply the messengers asking you to come along. It’s guaranteed to be one helluva ride.

Below, Burns discusses working with Joyce (possibly for the last time), stylistic choices, working his way through his 20s and that tragic (but amicable) breakup that still lingers on his heart.

This album leans further into straight country than your previous records. Was there a moment you realized that was happening?

We’ve always skirted the line. We just make Wild Feathers music and then whatever people want to call it, they can call it. I think this day and age people are quick. They always want to put you in a box and label you so they can digest it accordingly. But we’ve been called a country band since the since day one by certain people and then a rock band by country people. So, we’ve always just kind of tiptoed down that line, and it wasn’t really a conscious thing. The only thing that was conscious was to get back to writing songs like the first record of sitting around with acoustic guitars and just writing songs that way. I think all of us growing up in the South and listening to what we listened to, we’re going to sound country because we come from the South.

It’s very much in line with the country-rock of the 1970s. Did you aim to tighten up that vibe on this album?

You know, we’ve always gotten the Eagles comparisons, and that’s very flattering because they’re an amazing band with incredible songs. But I think it’s because we sing harmonies, and the ‘70s was the golden age for that kind of country. You had Waylon and Merle and Willie and all those cats. Then, you had The Flying Burrito Brothers, the Eagles, all that stuff. We grew up listening to that era of music. So, maybe it’s just kind of coming out.

Was it a no-brainer to tap Jay Joyce to produce again?

We thought about it a little bit harder this time because we thought maybe we should change it up. But we just have this trust and this great working rapport with him. We wanted to do one more record with him. I think this probably will be our last one with him. I don’t know — for no other reason than just to go somewhere different, creatively. We Love Jay, and we understand him now. It was a natural fit, for sure. IWe all live within like 10 minutes of where his studio is, so it feels homey and doesn’t feel like “you’re going to LA to make a big time record, boys!” It feels like us.

Was the collaborative process any different?

A little bit, I think. On the first record, we had played some of those songs out for two years. And with the second record, we played a lot of them out on tour before we recorded it. For this one, we had about 60 songs or so, and we didn’t tour much. Three of the dudes in the band had babies this year, so we were home, and we didn’t get a chance to play these songs out at all. It was kind of nice to not have this concrete idea in your head of what the song has to be because you’ve already played it and it’s been formatted. We were three to change on the fly with less resistance. We had just written them, demoed them and then put them aside and went onto the next one. So, we didn’t have these preconceived notions. In that regard, it was a lot easier on us and especially on Jay because a lot of times, he would try to change something. And we’d say, “ We love this part. It’s killer live. He’s like, “I know that. I’m looking at it from an album standpoint.”

What about your harmony work? Were there things you wanted to experiment with this time around?

Not particularly. We approach harmony in a pretty organic simple way. We try not to think about it too much and just do what comes naturally to us. We’re not a pure harmony singing band. We’re not like the Beach Boys or [Crosby, Stills & Nash], and we would fancy ourselves more like how Keith Richards or Rick Danko would sing harmonies. We don’t think about it too much. Jay and Jason, the engineer, had had a couple of ideas that we really dug, but for the most part, we just kind of went with it and threw out ideas.

“Wildfire” has a pretty slinky, groovy rhythm. How did that song evolve?

Me, Joel and Rick were at Joel’s house. We were just sitting around with acoustic guitars, and we wanted to write an autobiographical road song — just something that’s purely about the band. The song is true to form as you can get. It’s about us. Everything is true, and we don’t always do that. A lot of times, we’ll try to have themes or imagery and stuff that’s not really exactly succinct. So, it’s like, who are we as a band? This is who we are as a band and put it in a song and that came out.

The most emotional and warming song on the record is “Two Broken Hearts.” What led to writing it?

I actually wrote that song before the last record. I had this long term girlfriend who I thought was the one. We’re still actually close today, but I’m sure as you know or have heard stories — music is just tough on relationships. It just kind of fell apart, and so I had to write that song. I have about 30 others too, but I’ve always liked that song. I was like, “Hey, it’s not really anyone’s fault.” Sometimes, love isn’t enough. Sometimes love can’t get you all the way there. And it was just one of those things.

The song isn’t bitter about the breakup in any way, either. That’s pretty evident in your vocal.

Yeah, it’s like…we’re both hurting, and it sucks, but just hang in there and it’s all gonna be all right for both of us. I’m glad you picked up on that because it was never like, “Fuck you, bitch, you broke my heart and stole my dog.” No, man, this sucks for both of us, and I can feel it.

Similarly, “Hold onto Love” has an inescapable intimacy and rawness to it.

I think Ricky had an idea of just a progression, and we all loved it. One day, we just sat down and just kind of finished it up. It’s not about a specific person or thing, but I think it strikes all those cords and took on a life of its own after we finished it. Before, that song was just kind of straight ahead. When we demoed it, it was almost more acoustic. Jay really made it go a lot of different places that we weren’t envisioning, originally. I think it really made it a lot better in the end.

With “Every Morning I Quit Drinking,” you really commit to pushing your stylistic depth, exploring sounds you haven’t before.

That’s my favorite song to listen to on the record. Ricky wrote that one all by himself. Then again, it was like one of those things originally that was just acoustic, just straight ahead like ballad. When we did the demo at Joel’s house, I had the cool delay idea, and then Ben started doing that Spanish-style beat. When we got in the studio, Jay played vibraphones. I think I love listening to that song because we’ve never had that style of song on any of our records. That outro? I can just loop that for like an hour and just listen to it over and over. It’s breezy and easy and feels good.

How did you relate to the story of this song?

To me, it’s that promise of “Oh man, I’m going to stop drinking tomorrow. I’m going to be better. I’m going to get my shit together. I’m gonna do all this stuff.” And then the night rolls around and you fall back into your same old habits and then you start over and then the cycle continues the next day.

How have you as a band grown together over the past eight years and through your 20s?

I think we’ve all slightly matured, just barely. [laughs] I think more importantly we have continued to love and support and push each other one another, individually and creatively as a band. I’ve never been around another group of dudes or a band or a group of girls or whatever that is as close us. I’ve seen some people who really hang out, but we’re like all brothers now. You know, we fight and disagree and stuff, but we always come back and apologize when you’re wrong and do all that stuff. The main way we’ve grown, we’ve grown closer and stronger together, and I think it’s really important. I think a lot of bands might have broken up by now. We’ve been through hell a little bit. We thought would be a little further along than we are, maybe this or that. But we just always kind of promised each other not to get divided, not to let people conquer and divide us and just stay the course.

What are some other important songs for you on the record?

I really dig “Stand by You.” I wrote it about my current girlfriend. We always have heartbreak songs, you know; it’s like, “Oh, I’m leaving, and I’m can’t come back. I’m gone.” So, it was good to get an actual love song on the album. We’re happy, upbeat, loving human beings, but we have never really captured that on any of our records. Most of them tend to be kind of sadder songs. I love “Daybreakers,” too, just because it’s really fun to play on guitar. But I’m really proud of the whole record, top to bottom. There’s not one song I’m not proud about. Songs kind of become like kids, you know.

“Golden Days” is a fun one, too.

That is really fun to play, too. I wrote on that one. That one is, I guess, the most rockin’ one to play live. It’s got a dropped beat and just struttin’ guitar stuff, which I dig.