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The Ruralists

 

True believers in Dave Kramer's ruralist platform know that art and beauty can be found hidden in the back of any old garage. One late summer evening, they hoisted a broke-spring garage door and gathered together rusted gas tanks and ancient oil pans, barn wood and bailing wire, all the best bits of whatever sound and strain they could uncover or acquire, constructing something stratified and sound, a mellifluous mouthful of sharp and shiny teeth, nuanced and narrative, northwest of nowhere, seeded in the silvery soil of soybeans and cornstalks, flavored by the very salt of the earth.

 

Vocals, Guitar / Luke Hawley

Electric Guitar / Laremy De Vries

Bass / Jake Miller

Drums / Christian Lief

 

 
The city, of course, is a thing of the past. There was a time during the middle ages when it was the only source of culture. There was no way of acquiring this thing we call culture except by direct contact, see.

—Frank Lloyd Wright
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Guitar driven … an incredibly powerful sound to back up The Ruralists’ poignant and personal lyrics. … wonderfully written songs … a powerful set and performed as a cohesive unit.

– Sioux City Weekender
At the center of all this—the swelling noise, the sweaty crowd—is the band’s anchor and heart … songs deeply shaped by a storyteller’s sensibility.

– The Voice
Norman Rockwell meets Nirvana.

— Dave Kramer
Pulled me out of my funk.

— Andy Roetman
A helluva surprise.

— Ron Suir, Anthem

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booking contact: fullyruralized@gmail.com

 
The only thing worth writing about is the human heart in conflict with itself

—William Faulkner
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In their debut full-length album, The Birth of Birds, the Ruralists take Luke Hawley’s simple folk shuffles and, using all the instruments in their machine shed, run them against the grain. Howling electric guitars create a lush landscape of sound, sharp strokes over the fundamental and foundational rhythm section. Splashes of color like basement brass, the odd accordion, and a century-old pipe organ brighten the corners. And at the center of this curious carousel, Hawley’s songs of loving, longing, leaving, and coming back again, the fight for fidelity, grabbing and grappling at the impermanent, the interlocular, the veiny and visceral mess of the here and now stacked against the dream and desire of better days ahead. The songs are melodic, even down to the drums, hooks hooked with hooks, like the old barrel-of-monkeys game. They’re narrative both in lyric and music, dynamic and surprising, at times bombastic, at times almost uncomfortably intimate.

Don’t fly over these songs. Invite them to Sunday dinner, push back from the table and listen. You’ll find yourself in it, humming quietly along with the themes and variations on the heart in conflict. And don’t worry about it, the band will do the dishes.

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We’re excited to announce EP 2! We had four new-ish songs that felt like they needed a home and it seemed like the best way to find that home was to cut them over the course of one afternoon—we wanted the songs to have the same life and breath as they do when we played them in the Back Back (or anywhere else for that matter). So on a beautiful fall day last October, we hauled all our gear over to Luke’s house and set up in his 100 year old barn. We kept the doors open and let the sun in (and with it some of the sounds of outside—children, dogs, the occasional train).

EP2 (or as we refer to it: The Barney P) covers over a decade of Luke’s songwriting run through the Ruralist ringer. “Right‽” has become our 2019 anthem, the closer to nearly all of our sets. “Your Bones Get Old” first appeared on Luke’s The Northwoods Hymnal in 2013 (as did “Favorite Season”), but we gave it a proper barn treatment, complete with Laremy’s faux pedal steel guitar. Favorite Season also got filled out, with beats and riffs and Jake’s ghostly oohs on the singalong outro. And Little Bird got all of it—that riff, both played and sang by Laremy, the frenetic drums of Titus, the octave squeal of Jake’s bass, and all the breath Luke had in his chest. It’s a strange range of songs, a little split in its personality, asking some of the most serious questions in the world and laughing at the lack of answers. It’s complicated. Right‽

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Trying

by The Ruralists

When we first started tracking these songs, I joked about calling the record “Existential Love Songs from Middle Age.” It’s probably still somewhat appropriate—these songs certainly are existential and many of them started as love songs. But as we kept adding tunes (and taking away) and the thing took shape it was obviously about more than just love songs or middle age or even existentialism. When Laremy suggested TRYING as a title, I laughed it off; I’m sure we were in the middle of a long text thread about different possible titles. But I just kept going back to it—and realized that the songs did too. Before We Know starts with a version of the serenity prayer: “I keep trying not care about the things I cannot change.” (dis)appear centers around the idea: “I am trying the best I can/to hold this life both loose and tight”. It’s all over Mother Mary, trying to see the holy in the everday, trying to tell someone just exactly how you love them, trying to understand how we’re made of atoms and yet. In Murmur—the most love-song song on the record—the idea is at the center of the chorus: part of loving a person is to keep telling them how and how much you love them, despite never quite getting it right. And getting it right? What takes more trying than doing the right thing? Right‽

Every time I make a record I think it’s my finest work and I hope that’s always true, but I’m as close to certain as I get on that with this record. But even better than that? We had loads of fun. We did it our way, holed up in Back Back, slowly making progress. We invited friends, like the venerable Reverend Doctor Jeremy Perigo who saxamaophones his way into my very marrow (that one great blue note makes me grin every time). People Are People Too includes some of my favorite musicians—my brother Caleb, old band mates Jacob Champlin and Josh Engen, Christian Lief doing non-drum, super-Christian things. And a master of music history to boot in Joe Mann’s string work.

This is a strange life I’ve found myself in, making my favorite music with my literal neighbors for a specific place and time. And I think it’s that strange specificity is what makes the act of TRYING into the art of TRYING, something the four of us practice to differing degrees of success everyday. We hope you like the record, hope you love it really. We tried our best.

 
 

HereNow

I pray to the saints of empty gas tanks

And to the God of the bottom of the ninth

I wait on a word on a whisper never heard

Though I listen with all my might

 

What if all there is

Is this?

 

Right here. Right now.

 

You hope for the best for the long peaceful rest

And the resurrection of the dead

And you fear silly things that the future may never bring

Oh how your heart pounds

 

And what if all there is

Is this?

 

Right here. Right now.

 

Is enough enough?

(Enough is enough)

Is enough enough?

(Enough is enough)

Is enough enough

(Enough is enough is enough is enough)

 

Right here. Right now.

 

Mother Mary

I keep trying to see the face

Of mother mary full of grace

In an apple core

In a sticky bun

In a stretch of clouds

In the setting sun

 

But all that’s there is just the flesh and peel

Just the carmeled crust and the pink and teal of harvest dust

 

I keep trying to tell you how

I have always loved you like I love you now

But my tongue gets thick and my brain brain goes slack

And all these words come out bric-a-brac

 

And all that’s there is just the metaphor

It’s not the whole of you

It’s not the crux and core

It’s not the through and through

 

I keep trying to understand

How a dram of atoms makes the man

And the woman too

Is that the whole of us?

Just a clump of dirt?

Just a cloud of dust?

And that’s there is just some chemistry

The arithmetic of you and me

And the human heart is just a fine machine

Not a work of art filled with kerosene

Not a mystery of colossal scope

Not a duffel bag of fear and hope

Not a megaphone of love and hate

Not a talisman to keep us safe

Not a rattletrap always breaking down

Not a spiderweb

Not a shantytown

Not a creaking bridge

Not a tank brigade

Not an oracle

Not a masquerade

Just a thing that bangs and beats and pounds

And throbs and churns and wails and sounds

And maybe all we are is dust

Maybe that’s the whole of us

 

But maybe we are magic too

Impossible and completely true

Through and through

 

Time

What is this ache

Threatening to break my heart in two?

This tender skin

I’ve been living in can feel it too

 

Might be a change in the weather

Might be I’m losing my mind

But I find myself a beggar

Bartering with time

 

The trouble with time is

The line that it flies is straight and true

It don’t give a damn about

All of the plans I’ve got with you

And there’s nothing we can do

 

For heaven’s sake

If I could only take this life with you

And run it back

You know that’s exactly what I’d do

 

Might be impossible to promise

Might be a vow we’ll bend

But let’s swear our love’s forever

And there is no end

 

The trouble with time is

The line that it flies is straight and true

And part of the deal is

The love that we feel is tinged in blue

And there’s nothing we can do

 

Of course a shortness of breath

Doesn’t always lead to death

And though life is hard

And the earth is mostly just a bone yard

It’s pretty in the sunlight

 

Strange Machines

When I can’t sleep

I don’t count sheep

Instead I try to recall

Where all that I have lost might be

And I never can

After all I’m just a man

Who’s forgotten more

Than I could ever understand

 

Aren’t we strange machines?

You and me

Aren’t we strange machines?

Human beings

 

When you dream

It always seems

Like I’ve wandered off

And you cannot find me

But it’s in your head

All that fear and dread

And I’m right where you left me

Asleep in your bed

 

Aren’t we strange machines?

You and me

Aren’t we strange machines?

Human beings

 

Bones and blood and hair and skin

And the multitudes within

 

Aren’t we strange machines

Human beings

Aren’t we strange machines

You and me

 

People Are People Too

People are people too

Just like me and you

From the tops of our heads

To the foot of our beds

People are people too

 

You seem to think they’re not

You seem to think they’re not

You treat them like things

And not human beings

But people are people too

 

Of course it’s the same for me

Of course it’s the same for me

It’s hard to admit

But I often forget

That people are people too

 

So then what can be done

So then what can be done

Just what do we need

For us to agree

That people are people too

 

People are people too

Just like me and you

From the buds of our tongues

To the air in our lungs

People are people too

 

People are really strange

People are really strange

We do what we won’t

And believe what we don’t

But people are people too

 

Sometimes they drive you nuts

Sometimes they drive you nuts

So we try to negate

With our labels and hate

But people are people too

 

Time here is really short

Time here is really short

So let’s make up a plan

To be as kind as we can

Because people are people too

 

Helluvathing

When you talk about stardust

And how it’s in all of us

The picture in my mind

Is so pretty I could cry

And when I mention Jesus Christ

I know how you roll your eyes

And if I’m telling you the truth

Most days I do it too

 

You and I

Don’t see eye to eye

On loads of things

But you and me

We both agree

That to believe in anything is a helluva thing

 

So you play the scientist

And I’ll take the alchemist

You can measure what you see

And I will read the leaves

And then when the sun is set

We’ll lay our bodies into beds

Skin covering ghosts

Knows dark matter matters most

 

You and I

Don’t see eye to eye

On loads of things

But you and me

We both agree

That to believe in anything is a helluva thing

 

It might not be as simple as I think

And we both might find ourselves awake

Asking what all of this means

And it might be the voice of God

Or it might be nothing at all

The answer is the same

 

We’re here because we’re here because we’re here

 

Before We Know

I keep trying not to care about the things I cannot change

But it remains my resolution every year

And though I’m tired of being angry

I’m still shouting myself hoarse

Which of course makes it difficult to hear

All the ticks and all the tocks

From all the hands on all the clocks

And all the chimes on all the bells

From all the time that always tells me

That the world is fading fast

And the future will be past

Before we know

 

Maybe this year will be different and I’ll be wise enough to know

And just let go of all the things I cannot change

And I’ll finally find a way to just sit still

And pass the time

Reminded of what’s lovely and strange

Like a January thaw

Or that woodpeck I saw

Or the buds bursting from trees

Which soon will turn to leaves

Until the time again next fall

When the trees will drop them all

Before we know

 

I’ll be gone before I know it

Life it passes in a flash

Back to ash our bodies wash out to the sea

But before all of that happens

I resolve to do my best

To address just what could use some change in me

Less preaching and more prayer

More tenderness and care

Less judgement and more love

Less worry about stuff

More attention to what’s dear

Because it all will disappear

Before we know

 

(dis)appear

I would know you in the darkest dark

Your slope and shape

Your neck and nape

And the slow sound of your steady breath

The lovely scrape

As it escapes

 

We appear.

We disappear.

But while we’re here

I would know you in the darkest dark

 

I am trying the best I can

To hold this life

Both loose and tight

But my mind can’t

Quite keep it straight

My touch is light

My knuckles white

 

We appear.

We disappear.

But while we’re here

I am trying the best I can

 

Take a long look at the things you love

Don’t be afraid

Don’t look away

We’ll be gone on before we know

Nothing made

Fails to decay

 

We appear.

We disappear.

But while we’re here

Take a long look at the things you love.

 

InBetween

If life’s a joke

I’ve always hoped

the laugh behind it is divine

And we’ve just misread the room

And what’s the point

Was not the point at all

It was too small

And the laughter was the truth

 

Is it a joke to be alive

Is it so serious to die

It seems to me

the truth is always somewhere in between

 

But here’s the problem

What I want is to believe

with all my being

In a sure and certain path

A guarantee

That all the choices that I make

Will lead me right

Like life is only simple math

 

Wouldn’t it be nice?

If all the wrongs and rights

Were clear to me

Instead of always somewhere in between

 

When I was young

I only wanted to be old

Though I am told

That the opposite is true

But when I am old

I want to say I’ve loved it here

All of these years

And I’m not worried that it’s through

 

Most times they look the same

Tears of joy and tears of paint

And it might be

That they are always somewhere in between

 

Murmur

You’re a murmur of starlings

Darling

All your ever-shifting parts

A work of modern art

That I cannot understand

And I can’t look away

Or convey

All my slip-sliding thoughts

All twisted up in knots

Explaining how I feel

 

So I’ll keep writing you all these love songs

All my life long

Trying to get it right

And you’ll keep asking me

Why I do it

Why I can’t quit

But I just don’t know how

It’s just like breathing now

 

I’m an old tv set

Trying to get

The picture to come in

With strips of kitchen tin

Wrapped around my ears

But it’s mostly just snow

Even though
I’m giving it my best

I just haven’t got it yet

As clear as it can be

 

So I’ll keep writing you all these love songs

All my life long

Trying to get it right

And you’ll keep asking me

Why I do it

Why I can’t quit

But I just don’t know how

It’s just like breathing now

 

There’s a word that I learned

From a friend

About saying what you’ve got

By saying what it’s not

Possible to say

So then all that I know

I suppose

Of language and of rhyme

Of being and of time

Means nothing without you

 

Hook

Yesterday afternoon I realized

All of my favorite friends are gadflies

Buzzing in my ears

Asking why we’re here

And half of my head is philosophic

The other side’s staunchly catastrophic

Running around town

Shouting the blue skies down

 

Saying the good old days were never good

 

I heard a sermon preached on Thomas

Said it wasn’t the doubt that kept him honest

He was desperate to believe

In the things he couldn’t see

And I got to thinking I’m a lot like him

An optimist caught in a skeptic’s skin

Hoping everything is fine

Despite the warning signs

 

Saying the good old days were never good

We just saw the world the best we could

 

You know I love my indignation

Righteous or not that warm sensation

Spreading across my skin

Boiling to the brim

And you let me spin like a top on fire

Shouting and squealing like an amplifier

Until I blow another fuse

And surrender to the news

 

The last few years have been real bad

 

But you wait me out ever-patiently

Biding your time to remind me

Of all the things I’ve got

That I’ve conveniently forgot

And you put your hands up on my cheeks

And I can almost believe love could calm the seas

You look me in the eyes

And all the panic dies

 

Maybe the last few years haven’t been so bad

We just lost the line on all we had

 

And you say:

Let yourself off the hook

Let yourself off the hook now darling

Let yourself off the hook

I know you want to do it all by the book

But you should let yourself off the hook

 

Right‽ 

Dear God

It’s complicated

All these ventricles and veins

Pumping blood up to our brains

From our wild and wooly hearts

Oh Christ

The incarnated

Is this what you could see

In the garden on your knees

Begging for another way

 

How do you do the right thing

You do the right thing

How do you do the right thing

You do the right thing

How do you do the right thing

You do the right thing right

Right‽

 

Oh my

Aren’t we frustrated

Taking sides and making stands

Drawing lines deep in the sand

For the wind to blow away

Dear me

The implicated

Always thinking I can tell

What is good and right and well

Without seeing the other side

 

How do you do the right

You do the right thing right

Right‽

 

It’s hard as hell to love your neighbor

Might be just as hard to love yourself

But if we want to get along

Then we’ve got to get along

It’s not like we’ve got anybody else

 

How do you do the right

You do the right thing right

Right‽