The Roadhouse Band is a relatively new entity, but Ryan Davis has been at this forever. The Louisville-area singer-songwriter spent over a decade making “punked-up country gunk” with State Champion, a band he formed with close friends, born out of youthful abandon. In 2007, to release State Champion’s earliest music, he launched the record label Sophomore Lounge, which has built up a fascinating, diverse catalog — “everything from Chicago footwork records to noise rock records to folk records,” he explains on a video chat from the front porch of his father’s countryside Kentucky home.

New Threats From The Soul — the second album from Ryan Davis & The Roadhouse Band, out Friday — shows evidence of that kind of broad palette. At their core, these are epic-length roots-rock songs steeped in wry classic country and off-kilter indie rock. But this is also the kind of album where synths and beats intermingle with pedal steel on “Mutilation Falls” or a violin-strewn drum ‘n’ bass break unfolds on the same track with the lyric “The doorbell doesn’t work, but it don’t need to when the Rottweiler’s home.” The Roadhouse Band grew out of electronic instrumentals Davis began crafting during the pandemic while taking a break from singer-songwriter fare, and after years spent hewing to genre boundaries with State Champion, he’s enjoyed letting these tunes grow in whichever directions they may.

Davis’ lyrics and vocal performance may be even more appealing than the subtly shapeshifting music, though. In a deep, sardonic drawl that has been inspiring comparisons to Davis’ old friend David Berman (much to his consternation), he draws out the resonance in plainspoken lines like “I can’t remember the last time the good times got so bad” and inspires grins with referential bars like “I left my wallet in El Segundo/ I left my true love in a West Lafayette escape room.” The record presents a distinctive vision mapped out by a songwriter leveling up before our ears — and yet, with guests like Will Oldham, Grace Rogers, and Myriam Gendron in the mix, it feels less like a solo album than a community project crafted with loving care.

Below, check out the video for new single “Better If You Make Me,” directed by Tijah Bumgarner, and read my interview with Davis.

I went to see you at the Nelsonville Music Festival in June. It was really hot, and I really enjoyed what I saw. I left partway through to go see Jerry DeCicca. I think you put out his new album?

RYAN DAVIS: Yeah, it’s funny that he was playing the same festival as me and I didn’t get to see his set.

I used to write about Black Swans all the time when he lived here in Columbus.

DAVIS: Would you guys have crossed paths back when he lived in Ohio?

Yeah, I worked for Columbus Alive, which was the weekly paper here for a long time.

DAVIS: When we played at Nelsonville, our drummer had to bail at the last second, like the day we were leaving town, because he had some really intense stomach pains. So we just got the drummer for the [Styrofoam] Winos to back us up. So we were kind of like winging it, but I think I still felt pretty good about the set.

It didn’t come off as unprepared or anything.

DAVIS: Well, that’s because he’s a pro. If it was anybody else I probably would have played solo or something, but he just learned songs in the van.

Do you play a lot with the Winos?

DAVIS: Yeah, I would say that like 2/3 of the Winos are kind of like full-time Roadhouse people. LT [Lou Turner] especially, she plays bass and sings for us like virtually every tour at this point. And then Trevor [Nikrant], her husband — they all play everything in that band —but he comes with us most of the time. He also has been playing with MJ Lenderman, so he kind of goes back and forth depending on scheduling stuff. And then Joe, who was drumming for us at Nelsonville, we don’t ever play with him. That was just kind of like he was just jumping in, but I’m sure we’ll do it again at some point.

You had State Champion for a long time, but then, two years ago, we got the first Roadhouse Band album. What were the circumstances for changing things up and kind of rebooting?

DAVIS: I mean, that could be its own hour-long conversation. But really, to boil it down, I’d just done that band for so long. And I started it when I was 20, and it was just me, and I kind of had some other people in the early days. And then it became what it was with the same four people for the better part of another decade on top of that. So I think it went on for almost 14, 15 years or something like that. And when I started, I don’t think I really knew what I wanted out of making records or being a songwriter, and I just wanted to make stuff with my friends and see the country, see the world, travel around and see what it was like to be a touring musician, and made records to support that. And I think at a certain point I was just wearing myself down and thinking about songwriting so much. And maybe the songwriting that I was wanting to do wasn’t what I was really able to do within the constraints of that band.

You know, we were kids when we started it, and we were all growing apart in different life directions, and it just wasn’t as fun anymore at the end of the day. I decided to end that band right after our last European tour at the end of 2019. And then it was like two months later, COVID happened. So then, the good thing was I didn’t have to cancel any tours or anything because we had already broken up the band like right before that. I just had the rare situation, as we all did, of being alone with my thoughts and my partner and kind of just at home for a year or two, and thinking about — really not thinking about coming back from that at all. But when I started to think about that — thinking, well, if I did come back to making songwriter records again, how would I do it? And what would I want to do differently? And could I expand the constructs of that to make it more fun and more enjoyable and more exploratory? And basically just started demoing some stuff on my own.

I started with more instrumental stuff, and then I started piecing in some written word stuff. And then eventually I wrote that record. And it wasn’t until we got in the studio and started arranging it, like as we were recording, that I started to have an understanding of where it could go. And I think we just try to keep that version of it afloat because it seems like it’s working so far.

I’m surprised to hear that you started with instrumentals because it seems so lyric-driven.

DAVIS: Well, part of my coming off of the whole State Champion thing, and just feeling like my identity was so wrapped up in being a songwriter for so long, was this inherent rejection of that for a couple of years. During COVID I started drawing again a lot, and I got really obsessed with just buying crappy drum machines and weird keyboards and MIDI equipment, and kind of chaining it all up and reading instruction manuals on how to — like, how would I make beats? How could I make this janky version of what I understood techno to be? How could I just do something that’s creative that isn’t me like sitting down with four chords and writing a song? And I just kind of wanted to reset my brain and use a new muscle. So I started. We’d just moved into a house in Southern Indiana. We lived in Louisville for like 10 years before that, and moved over to this new house, and I had a little more space and set up a tape machine and learned how to use that. I just wanted to have a moment of education.

When I started State Champion, we hit the ground running. I never really honed in any sort of skills beyond that. And so I took a year or two and just made a lot of weird synth music and weird — you know, just music. It was just music. It really didn’t fit into any one classification or genre. I was just doing it ’cause it excited me or it was fun or funny or whatever. And then I slowly started feeling like, “You know, I still do have some lyrics I wish I’d used for something,” and, “What if I could use these drum machines to just create a foundation for making another acoustic album or something?” I didn’t ever really know that it would be another band. But the more I was working on it, the more I was like, “Oh, I could have somebody come play bass on a couple of songs,” or, “I could maybe get a piano player,” you know?

Then I just hit up some friends that I thought would be fun to make a record with, with really no preparation. We never rehearsed before we made that record, we all just — I traded demos with people when we got up in the studio, and we just spent the night drinking some beers in the little band bunker before and saying, like, “Let’s try this tomorrow when we start.” And then the record kind of just happened. And we’re like, “Well, that was fun.” Like, “Let’s see if we can do that again,” with the record that’s about to come out. I do love how adventurous it is.

Maybe this is an intentional misdirect on your part, but I feel like calling it the Roadhouse Band, you have a certain expectation of what it’s gonna sound like. So when you get the synth parts and the drum ‘n’ bass breaks and stuff like that, it’s a pleasant surprise.

DAVIS: Yeah, well, funny enough, what I was just talking about where I was making a lot of four track recordings, I had made a couple records — just small-run things, or I think we did some stuff that we didn’t even release — that I called Roadhouse. It was just called Roadhouse. And I would go play shows. Like I did a show in New York City opening up for Malcolm Mooney, and it was just billed as Roadhouse. And it was me just chaining up tables full of all this gear and starting up a MIDI chain and just trying to keep up with it as I was going.

So I kind of had this moment where I was playing shows, just making instrumental music. But then I started not being able to fight off the desire to continue making songwriter music, and I decided I was gonna give a go at it. I just wanted to alter the spirit of the Roadhouse thing because it felt still very much a part of that sonic universe that just was gonna have singing now. So I called it the Roadhouse Band.

Also I’ve always liked band names with these ominous images of a place, like Roadhouse, Palace, Whitehouse, Parliament, sort of these institutions, these blank institutions. And so calling it the Roadhouse Band is a bit of a nod to that. And in my mind, it could just be whatever I wanted it to be. But I guess you’re probably not the only person that expects it to be some sort of blues rock band or something.

Yeah. I appreciate the subversion, So New Threats From The Soul is the title track, and it’s the opening track, and it’s the lead single. Why is that kind of the banner under which we’re flying this time?

DAVIS: It actually wasn’t my idea to have that be the single. I’m really glad it was because I think it was a nice mission statement for the album. It’s the first song on the record. It’s the title track. It kind of doesn’t make sense: I don’t know, for whatever reason I wanted it to be, I think, either “Monte Carlo” or “Better If You Make Me,” or we talked about “The Simple Joy.” When I say we, I mean me and Tough Love, the UK label that I’m releasing [the album with]. And it was Stephen [Pietrzykowski] from Tough Love that, when he first got on board, he was like, “Everything looks good, the art looks good, the timeline looks good. I’m totally down. But the one thing I’m gonna put my foot down about is I think ‘New Threats From The Soul’ should be the single.” And I was like, “Alright.” Like, I’m down to give it a shot. And I’m really glad we did.

That phrase, “new threats from the soul,” actually, it’s funny. [Holds up a notebook] I wasn’t planning to use this, but this is the lyric workbook journal thing that I was using when I was writing the record. And I wrote “New Threats From The Soul” on it just as an idea. I think I was just calling the journal “New Threats From The Soul,” basically. It was just an idea or a theme I kept coming back to, and then started writing a song around. I just felt like it summed up a lot in terms of the record and the concepts within. And I just really like it.

The album has some — I don’t know if you would call it world-building or whatever. But, for instance, “Mutilation Springs” and “Mutilation Falls.” There’s kind of that reprise thing happening on the last album with “Bluebirds” too. Is that something that appeals to you, kind of having the songs in conversation with each other?

DAVIS: Someone brought that up recently, and I was like, I don’t really like that being like a trick I’m known for. I’m not trying to make that my thing. And then that person was like, “You know, you also did that in State Champion,” which I had forgotten, the song called “Sunbathing I” and “Sunbathing II” on the same record. So I guess maybe I get so deeply obsessed with these songs that I’m writing them and I’m kind of living in that world, and sometimes it feels like time to get off of one. But then I feel like there’s sometimes ideas lingering that exist within that same world, or that same set of characters or circumstances or whatever, that I feel like nodding back to in a way. Where the song can exist as its own — I don’t think you need to hear one in order to enjoy the other or something. But I do think it’s a nice little compositional tool within a record to connect it to itself in some weird way, if that makes sense.

I was also gonna say on that topic that those sort of janky four-track piano drum machine interludes, we had recorded those thinking that maybe I would write some words to them or that they would be used in some way on the record. I think that was just the piano riff that I was playing around with a lot in the studio leading up to making the record. And then I ended up suggesting that we sequence those two little pieces before the “Mutilation”s to almost operate as a TV theme song. Like, “On the next episode of Holy Fails,” you know? So it’s kind of got this little theme song moment before the two “Mutilation”s. I just thought that was kind of a nice device to break up the long-winded songs, and I think whether or not it feels that way to the listener, I kind of enjoy doing that.

You have a bunch of different guests on the record, and many of them are from Louisville. Not all of them — not Myriam Gendron, that’s for sure. So even though they’re not necessarily all locally rooted to where you’ve been, it feels kind of like this is an expression of this community that you’re a part of. I hesitate to say it’s built up around you, but this community that you that you’ve entered into and these friends that you’ve accumulated along the way.

DAVIS: Yeah, for sure. Whether or not that was totally intentional or not, I think it’s just a sort of an organic way for it to happen. Whereas these are the people that I’m playing shows with or hanging out with who are adding stuff to the live sets, or who I’m putting out records for in the label, and I have this stable of friends. Like before Dancing On The Edge came out, and maybe even a little bit after, I was tour managing for Will [Oldham]. So I was on the road with him, and we’ve gotten to be pretty close. Never in my wildest dreams would I have imagined giving him a song and asking him to sing on it, but I just knew that even if he didn’t want to do it or couldn’t do it, he wouldn’t be thrown off by me at least asking. So to that, when we started hearing his voice on that song, I thought, “Will’s a friend of mine.” Like, what’s the worst that could happen? He’ll just say no. And he said, “Yeah.”

I learned that with doing my festival those years. A lot of times like people are down for collaborating. People are stoked to have you throw ideas at them. So I think a lot of it, it just comes with asking and just being — I feel very lucky that I have such insanely talented friends that I have access to, who will willingly come spend two hours of their day laying down a flute part or a harmony or whatever. It’s pretty awesome. And I don’t wanna say I want to take advantage of it, but I want to utilize it to the best of my ability.

It definitely feels like you did on the record.

DAVIS: Yeah, but I also don’t want it to feel like it’s like leaning on that too much or something, which I don’t think it does. I think the narrative voice and the singing and the storytelling is kind of the central part of it. I don’t want it to feel like a modern rap record where it’s like 100 features and it’s like a “Who’s actually in charge here? kind of thing. But I think everybody that I chose to work with on it really was just working in service of the song. Including me. There’s not really one spotlight on anybody, and I think that’s the mark of a great collaborative effort.

What was your connection to Myriam? How did she get involved?

DAVIS: I always really loved those records. When the first one came out, I saw her play up in New Hampshire or something. And then I was just a fan. I didn’t really know we had some mutual friends, Aaron Rosenblum, who plays on both records, was an acquaintance of hers. And she does records on Feeding Tube, which put out the last State Champion record, and they’re friends of ours. There were all these little associations, but I didn’t really know her.

And then one of the Bonnie [“Prince” Billy] tours that I couldn’t tour manage because of my sister’s wedding, she was the support for that. So we were constantly emailing and talking, just like professionally about the tour or whatever. And I think at the end of it, I was supposed to mail her something of Will’s, and I threw in a copy of my record. Because we had dinner at her house in Montreal, and I was like, “I’ll send you my record when I get home. You might like,” like thinking I would never hear back from her. And she wrote me a really sweet message saying that she and her partner really enjoyed it and had been listening to it.

So again, like the thing I just said, like, “This seems crazy to ask this person to do this who doesn’t even live in the same town as me.” But I’m just gonna ask her if she wants to sing on this song. And she was thrilled to do it, and rose to the challenge. And I think it’s such a cool song, and her performance is so — it’s not eerie, but I think it’s evocative in a way that suits the serious, somber nature of that song compared to the rest of the record. I think we maybe tried to get her on another song and it didn’t end up working out for multiple reasons, but I think just having her on that one, it’s such a perfect moment to the record, and I’m really proud of that collaboration coming to exist.

What’s it been like having the Roadhouse Band on the road like as opposed to your State Champion experience? I realize we’re talking about pre-pandemic vs. post-pandemic, and that could certainly alter it as well. But after hearing about how making an album might have been different, or the creative process, what’s the tour experience like?

DAVIS: They’re very different bands. It’s sort of hard for me to talk about this stuff. I hate to talk about State Champion in a way where it’s making it sound like they didn’t know how to play music or something. But we started that band and it was like, I had just started writing songs, and we were all just good friends. And the bass player, he’s like one of my best friends, and I was just like, “You should just play bass in this band and figure it out,” you know? That’s how it always was. The musical element was almost sort of secondary to just loving each other and being like brothers and sisters and seeing the country and driving around and seeing all these crazy things. But also then making records that did require a lot of decision making and rising the challenge of that.

But it did reach a point where maybe we all wanted different things, and maybe just creatively there are wider and wider gaps in terms of the kinds of songs we wanted to make and who was in charge of making those decisions. And I just saw it going in a way where it was less and less exciting for me. And rather than just drag a dead horse, I just put a nail in it and said, “I think we’ve done all we can do with this, and I’m really proud of it. I think this is kind of the end of the road for this project.” Again, not knowing if I’d ever do anything else like that.

When I did decide to start touring again to sell the new record and get it out there, I tried to pick some people that I knew had the same unbridled spirit in terms of improvisation and collaboration and just being a little more lawless about how we approach making a country-rock songs. And maybe the more traditional opinions of the people from State Champion, which is, for better or worse, we were kind of like a punk band. We played loud, we played louder live than we did on the records. We turned our amps up too loud. I often had to scream to get over the amps. We’d be playing, like, park spaces and basements and warehouses. And the whole thing just had this chaos to it, which really worked when we were in our twenties.

But once I got around to writing that last Champion record, I really just wanted to take things down a notch and focus on singing better and letting the story shine through a little bit more. And not only that, but kind of just bringing some more sonic elements into play. Like with listening to a lot of electronic music and dance music and experimental artists, I didn’t want to be pigeonholed to making this sort of noisy bar band music. And even though at times I think the Roadhouse Band can do that mode of operation, it’s not really — there are no rules, I guess is what I’m saying.

Being on the road, we really enjoy each other’s company, but we also take criticism well. And I think everybody’s — I might be talking a little bit too much about this, but everybody’s identities were a little bit more tied up with State Champion. We all put our life into it, full speed ahead. And I think with the Roadhouse Band, a lot of it comes with being older, but we’re a little bit less fragile about it. It’s like, at the end of the day, it’s just music, and it’s just something that’s supposed to bring joy. And when people are asked to sit out a song or just scrap their part on the record or to do something on tour differently, everybody just says, “No problem,” and then we move on. So I think the communication is really good. It’s just a really communicative and fun group of people traveling.

So you’re still at the place in Indiana now?

DAVIS: Yeah, I live in Southern Indiana, right across the bridge from downtown Louisville, Any show that I would go to in Louisville, I could get to in a 15 minute drive or something like that. It’s weird. It’s like Jefferson feels weird, and then it doesn’t feel like a suburb of Louisville. It feels like its own weird little town outside of the city. But it’s very connected in a lot of ways too. I’ve always had a bit of a split personality or a split identity with that because I spent a lot of time in both Louisville and Southern Indiana. And there’s some stigma about Southern Indiana with the people from Louisville. But I like both places in their way. Both are really important to who I am and the songs I write over the years.

What’s the stigma?

DAVIS: It’s like — are you from Cincinnati, or where are you from?

I’m from Columbus.

DAVIS: Well, it’s like the Cincinnati thing, probably. Being from Ohio, people don’t like Northern Kentucky. Or people from Kansas City, Missouri don’t like Kansas City, Kansas. It’s just the brotherly — you know, it’s, I think people think Southern Indiana is sort of redneck, like low culture. There’s not as much going on there. You know, it’s not really rooted in anything. It’s just hard to get people over the state line for no real reason. I don’t personally experience that. I like both places.

Are you originally from that area?

DAVIS: Yeah, I was born in Louisville, lived there until grade school. And I grew up in Southern Indiana, but I continued to go to school in Louisville. My parents always worked in Louisville. So I just have been back and forth my whole life. I mean, it’s basically one core existence, it’s really not that different.

Louisville has never lacked for a music scene, but it does seem like there’s like a cool little wave of stuff happening with you and Grace Rogers being two examples of that.

DAVIS: Yeah. I mean, I don’t know much happening in Louisville because only two of us live there, so we hardly ever play there. So we don’t really cultivate a scene of any kind. But Grace is really like — I was very involved in the Louisville music scene for a very long time. In the last few years, I’ve kind of been checked out. I don’t really book shows anymore, and I don’t get out as much as I used to, just because I’m touring so much that when I’m in town, I lay really low. I’m kind of a homebody. But I went to Grace’s record release show, and it was just crazy. I mean, there were several hundred people there for an artist in her early, mid-20s, however old she is, making her first record. It was just so cool to see. And I think there’s other fans and artists sprouting up around her that are in her cohort too. It seems like they’re all sort of having a moment. It’s awesome to witness it.

How long have you been running Sophomore Lounge?

DAVIS: I started it in 2007 to put out the first State Champion CD of demos and some CD-Rs for the bands I started touring with way back in the day, and I just kept it going ever since. So I think New Threats From The Soul is like the 150th release or something like that.

What’s the division of labor within your life? Running the label, is that within the realm of, “This is my job?” I know you were tour managing, you said, and obviously you’re out touring your own music.

DAVIS: Yeah, I mean, it’s honestly in an unsustainable place at the moment. I’m so busy with — I mean, just the label alone is a full-time job, but I don’t make enough money to really have it be a career. So I’ve always historically just worked random jobs — restaurants, or I worked in landscaping. I worked as an art handler in art museums for many years. I’ve done a lot of dog sitting, house sitting, anything where I can make my own schedule and be able to leave whenever I needed to go on tour. And really the past year or so was the first time I’ve just been doing music full time. And I have side hustles here and there that I’ll work, gig-based stuff or whatever, and I do freelance art and things like that.

But for the most part, I’m focusing on music, with this new record coming out and doing the album cycle stuff and touring and doing label releases for other people, it’s all just gotten to be too much. And I don’t have tour managers or — the whole rest of my day is gonna be spent figuring out, like, logistics for renting vans and getting flights to get to Europe. And it’s just like every day I wake up and I’m just putting out fires. And hopefully I can have some help with that, but there’s no budget for it. But I don’t ever want to get to the place where I can’t do the label at all anymore and I have to put it to bed. So it’s just about finding the balance and not taking on more than I can chew, but taking on just as much as I can chew. I like to be a busy person, but not too busy.

Is there any guiding principle behind what kind of stuff you put out through the label? Or it’s just vibes-based, like, “I like this record, so I’m gonna do it.”

DAVIS: It’s really just a vibe. And a lot of times there’ll be a record I really like, but I just don’t feel like it’s the Sophomore Lounge aesthetic, whatever that is. Because I’ve put out everything from Chicago footwork records to noise rock records to folk records. Like, it’s not genre specific, it’s just more like whether or not the spirit of something feels fitting and if I feel like I can provide the artist with something that they couldn’t provide for themselves. And if the answer is no — if I don’t feel like I have a way to push the record or an angle on it or a way to help them — I’ll just respectfully tell them that it’s not something I can really do.

I always have so little money that I really only pool it up to spend it and then pool it back up again. So I stay busy enough with it, but I’m never putting out, like, 10 things at once, or even 10 things in a year. It’s just like, I do what I can and I try to only take on as much as I know that I can still do a favor for people. Because otherwise like me putting “Sophomore Lounge” on someone’s record and not being around to do anything isn’t gonna help anybody out.

Well, you’ve got a cool assortment built up over the years.

DAVIS: I think so. Most of it’s just friends. Every now and then I’ll reach out to someone I don’t know. For the most part it’s just people I was already friends with or people that I’ve met on tour. Every now and then people will blindly solicit something to me, but it’s really just kind of a community of people that actually know and love each other.

TOUR DATES:
08/06 – Louisville, KY @ Whirling Tiger
08/07 – Jeffersonville, IN @ The Depot
08/08 – Chicago, IL @ The Hideout
08/09 – Spring Green, WI @ Shitty Barn
08/20 – Amsterdam, NL @ Tolhuistuin %
08/21 – Amsterdam, NL @ Tolhuistuin %
08/22 – Marlborough, UK @ Sound Knowledge
08/23 – London, UK @ The Lexington
08/24 – Cambridge, UK @ The Blue Moon
08/25 – Coventry, UK @ The Tin Music and Arts
08/26 – Huddersfield, UK @ The Parish
08/27 – Sheffield, UK @ Delicious Clam
08/28 – Norwich, UK @ Voodoo Daddy’s
08/29 – Luton, UK @ The Bear Club
08/30 – Moseley, UK @ Moseley Folk & Arts Festival
08/31 – Wiltshire, UK @ End of the Road Festival
09/01 – Bath, UK @ The Bell
09/02 – Winchester, UK @ The Railway Inn
09/04 – Kilkenny, IE @ Cleere’s Bar & Theatre
09/05 – Dublin, IE @ THe Workman’s Club
09/06 – Glasgow, UK @ The Flying Duck
09/07 – Amsterdam, NL @ Tolhuistuin
09/08 – Nijmegen, NL @ Merleyn
09/13 – Leffinge, BE @ Leffingeleuren Festival
09/16 – Stavanger, NO @ Folken
09/17 – Bergen, NO @ Landmark
09/18 – Oslo, NO @ Blå
09/19 – Stockholm, SE @ Bar Brooklyn
09/20 – Gothenburg, SE @ Pustervik
09/21 – Copenhagen, DK @ Amager Bio
10/23 – Memphis, TN @ Hernando’s Hideaway
10/24 – Dallas, TX @ Double Wide
10/25 – Austin, TX @ Chess Club
10/27 – Phoenix, AZ @ Last Exit Live
10/28 – Los Angeles, CA @ Zebulon
10/29 – San Francisco, CA @ Psyched Festival @ Thee Parkside
10/31 – Portland, OR @ Cravin’ Gravy Social Club
11/01 – Seattle, WA @ Clock Out Lounge
11/02 – Boise, ID @ Shrine Social Club (Basement)
11/03 – Salt Lake City, UT @ Urban Lounge
11/04 – Denver, CO @ Goosetown Tavern
11/05 – Omaha, NE @ Reverb Lounge
11/06 – Davenport, IA @ The Raccoon Motel
11/07- Milwaukee, WI @ Falcon Bowl
11/08 – Tolono, IL @ Loose Cobra

% = w/ MJ Lenderman & The Wind

New Threats From The Soul is out 7/25 via Sophomore Lounge/Tough Love. Pre-order it here.