The Tillers

So much has happened in The Tillers’ universe that it’s overwhelming for the band to consider events that have transpired between their 2009 sophomore release, By the Signs, and their new album, Wild Hog in the Woods.
“We got haircuts,” guitarist Sean Geil deadpans, alluding to his closely cropped hair and vocalist/banjoist Mike Oberst’s obvious lack of braids.

In addition to their tonsorial shift, the Cincinnati-based Folk trio changed bassists in February of last year, from Jason Soudrette to Sean’s brother Aaron. It was an easy transition, as Aaron and Sean had played in various Bluegrass outfits together and Aaron had been filling in for Soudrette when he was unavailable (all four Tillers played Soudrette’s last show).

“It was when the band first started traveling hard,” Aaron says. “It was a lot of catching up on songs that were already staples in the set. We were learning songs in the van. That first tour, those two learned a song and Sean was yelling chords at me as they were playing while I’m driving so I could play it that night at the show. It would have been harder if I was trying to play.”

“That was difficult when that happened,” Oberst says over beers at Northside’s Comet on a quiet Monday night. “It’s a weird time when you lose a member that’s one of the originals, and you’re a three-piece. But bringing Aaron into the band was a must, and he knew exactly what we needed to do.”

The past 24 months have also seen the airing of The Tillers’ segment on Tom Brokaw’s Route 50 documentary, American Character Along Highway 50, their featured track on a Relix Magazine sampler, a pair of opening gigs for the legendary Doc Watson, their second Cincinnati Entertainment Awards win for Folk/Americana Artist (and their third nomination) and tons of touring miles traveling to music festivals all over the country, including events in Wisconsin, New York, Virginia and Austin, for their first South by Southwest.

“We’ve been going (on tour) wherever we can,” Oberst says.










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SHAREPRINTCOMMENTFONT SIZERATE “We went to SXSW, and played on the streets in New Orleans. And we went to Woody Guthrie’s hometown, Okemah, Okla., almost like a pilgrimage to view the tumbleweeds. It wasn’t a business venture for us, we went to be there and feel it.”

The release of the all-covers Wild Hog in the Woods brings more good news for The Tillers. A collaboration between the band and local Bluegrass legend Uncle Mike Carr, Wild Hog’s release will be celebrated with a combination festival/benefit at the Southgate House this Saturday (Carr will be on hand for The Tillers’ set). The event, dubbed “To Sing with You Once More,” has been planned for nearly a year and will feature The Tillers along with a variety of supporting acts to raise funds to battle multiple myeloma, a plasma cell cancer that claimed the lives of famed Folk singer Mike Seeger and Oberst’s mother.

“There’ll be 17 acts there, including us,” Oberst says. “It’s a benefit/memorial show for my mom and Mike Seeger, Pete Seeger’s younger brother who was an old-time banjo player and member of the New Lost City Ramblers since the late ’50s. We’re going to be raising funds for the Mike Seeger Scholarship Fund, which is a music scholarship.”

Wild Hog in the Woods is a return to the more traditional old-time sound of The Tillers’ 2008 debut, Ludlow Street Rag, even more so given Wild Hog’s complete lack of originals. It was a direction the band had considered for some time.

“We wanted to put out the stuff we play at shows that aren’t originals and release it at the (memorial) show,” Sean says. “Then we met Uncle Mike and started jamming with him, and we thought, ‘That would be cool, too, and it’ll be different enough from the other albums we’ve put out.’ We recorded everything live, shortly after we learned the songs, because we learned them from Uncle Mike.”

Carr and The Tillers met at Mark Utley’s “Music For the Mountains” benefit earlier this year; both had tracks on the corresponding compilation and were involved in the subsequent show. Like all good collaborations, Wild Hog was borne of great mutual admiration.

“Uncle Mike’s song, ‘Sugar Hill,’ is the oldest sounding song on the (Music For the Mountains) CD, and we thought, ‘Man, that’s awesome. We want to meet him.’ ” Sean says. “We thought about jamming with him.”

“We actually met Mike at the show,” Oberst says “He’d been looking for a band to work with, and he seemed very into what we were doing. Originally, we thought our new album could be all old-time songs, but after meeting Uncle Mike, we thought, ‘Why don’t we see if that guy wants to play on it?’ We figured if we were going to work with him, let’s showcase him, but it turned out documenting him in a big way. There are only a few that are traditional songs that we did before he came. The whole thing has been unforgettable.”

As The Tillers’ lessened their concentration on origi - City Beat Magazine

2010 promises to be a huge year for this great Queen City. Can’t you feel it, y’all? There’s something in the air, I tell ya! Take it all in now and don’t you dare worry cause it’s gonna linger all year long, baby doll! Lucky for you, beloved, the good news fell into my lap early this year, and I'm here to spread the gospel! It’s the first shot fired out of the chamber in the Cincinnati campaign to take over the landscape of popular culture. It comes in the form of a record made in a west side basement by three unshaven men in their mid-to-late twenties -- The Tillers.

While their first LP, Ludlow Street Rag, was an immediate call to action filled with a large dose of the forgotten gems from the Industrial Workers of the World’s Little Red Songbook, By the Signs is an infinitely more focused, developed & ambitious record. It isn’t just a collection of songs recorded for the sake of simply recording them to have something to sell at shows for a little extra gas money to get them a little further down the highways and state routes. It is an A-L-B-U-M, and it is somethin’ else.

From the first hammer claw banjo plucks & fiddle licks courtesy of the hands & fingers of Mike Oberst on his tune, “Cardinal Train,” this album displays an already tight unit (you should see them live ASAP, and you‘ll know exactly what I mean) growing by leaps and bounds before our very eyes as songsmiths of the timeless variety. Mike means it! Hell, if you didn’t already know it, he wrote this here song just for YOU! He did all of this for YOU! A modern day Johnny Appleseed? MAYBE! I do know this, though, he’s movin’ down the trail and doesn’t know when he’s gonna stop; but when he finally does, pals, rest assured that he’ll stop to smell them roses.

Oberst’s propensity for neglected “little people that make the world go around” history is best displayed on a track called “George St. Beat.” It tells of the long-forgotten juke joints & honky tonks of a pre-depression Cincinnati. Jason Soudrette’s bass drives this tune down them west end roads. Oberst rips apart a kazoo, too! And is that some percussion I hear at the track's end?! Aw, boys, you shouldn't have! In any event, this track absolutely smokes. It makes you feel real damn good, too. After a long day of slaving away at an unfulfilling job downtown, you'll want to go down there to those streets of which he sings and take in the memories of whiskey-crazed bluesmen chasin' tail and degenerate gamblers takin' your bucks after a vicious round of three card monte. You’ll shake that George St. Beat with every listen. You don’t know what you’re missin’.

The other side of the songwriting falls into the hands of the gentle giant of Milan, IN, Sean Geil. A disciple of the blues, Geil sings the sins of the loves gone bad as he's headin' down to the water to cleanse his soul on “Down at the Bottom.” Sure he’s done wrong, a few times even, but he’ll stop at nothing to get it right this time 'round. You will believe it, too, as you see yourself in the reflection of that mighty, muddy Ohio River with every word of the story he's tellin'. Hell, no one’s perfect, but you do your absolute damnedest for them ladies, right?! They’re precious & sweet as a ripened Georgia peach in the August heat, after all. He’ll be callin’ alright!

If that wasn’t enough, Oberst/Geil do their best Lennon/McCartney on the one song they co-wrote, “Mountain Song." It sounds like a Beatles For Sale or Help! outtake melodically, to be completely honest with you. You'll be humming the chorus for days. Mark Utley of Magnolia Mountain penned a work song about ridding the country's greed and sharing the wealth with the folks that he felt only the boys could sing, “There is Enough,” as well. Wouldn't you know it, that tasty little number fits perfectly into their canon. A small handful of traditional tunes that you’d recognize from their blistering live sets are also proudly sang: “Lonesome Day,” “Bed on the Floor,” “Ezekial Saw the Wheel” & a beautiful rendition of “Trouble in Mind.”

Sonically, the LP holds up with the best Ethan Johns or anyone else in Nashville can give our ears. It’s raw and honest but doesn’t suffer from acoustical flaws. There’s no lo-fi hiss. Everything sounds crisp and clear. Every note is heard. Nothing is buried. THIS ALBUM WAS MADE IN A BASEMENT! As Geil said to Tim Bradshaw, “folk is the new punk.” I think he may be correct. This record is for the common folks who got a raw deal, a bad shake, a short hand. Yeah, we’re all broke and pissed off, but we couldn’t be having more fun in these troubled times!
- Boil It First Magazine

Tonight The Tillers play for bar tips. But they've also been known to busk Clifton's street corners for burritos and dimes.

For these three, it's not about scoring the prettiest stage. It's about conjuring up lost songs, keeping them alive. It's about tackling classics, putting a progressive spin on old-time music. Embracing the past, this formerly Punk-ish trio combines forces to rekindle the spirits and sounds of the Depression Era.
First, Mike Oberst (banjo, vocals, harmonica, guitar, fiddle). With patched jeans. Oberst is smooth in manner, but focused. A soft, persistent cat. With gauged ears, his Punk roots show, but he is a gentle operator. Sean Geil (guitar, vocals, banjo) wears a "Black-n-Bluegrass" T-shirt. Square, thick-rimmed glasses frame his face. Geil, a smiley giant, also plays in The Mt. Pleasant String Band, a Bluegrass outfit. Numerous tats peek out from under the shirtsleeves of Jason Soudrette (upright bass). His speech is slow and deliberate with a slight Kentucky drawl.

Their looks give them an interesting edge, an imagery mix of modern tattoo joints and lush, historic farms. It's a strange duplicity apparent in their music as well.

In 2000, Soudrette and Oberst played in the Punk band Disarm, but Oberst and his dad had always played Folk together. Oberst was further inspired from the Punk zine Politburo Punk when he happened to flip to an article on Country/Roots music, celebrating the time "when guitar was a learning tool to get issues out."

Geil says, "We all played in Punk bands. I always liked Folk, early Delta Blues. I just fell in love with that early Folk."

After joining Irish/Folk group The Blue Rock Boys, Oberst started playing solo, drawn to the songs he heard on old recordings. Learning the five-string banjo, he studied Pete Seeger, who brought Old-time music to New York City in the ..40s. Oberst was intrigued with The Almanac Singers, a rotating cast of ..40s Folk musicians that included Woody Guthrie, all of whom were versatile, ever-changing and political.

Oberst says, "We try to blend a mix of a time before Bluegrass music was popular back then it was called old-time music... The Bluegrass term didn't come until the late ..40s. All they really did was take that old-time music and speed it up."

Geil adds, "Old-time music is a little dirtier, a little looser."

Meanwhile, Soudrette was in Downhill Luke, a Punk band that "fizzled out." Soudrette says, "Mike called me up one day and asked me if I'd play an upright bass. I was a little hesitant. I'd never (knew how to play) upright, but I really enjoyed playing it."

Oberst says, "Jason has always been a bass player and can pick up things really easily."

On their debut CD, Ludlow Street Rag, Oberst says, "They're very important old songs and our job is to keep them alive. The idea is that this music is simple and not over-produced. So much sound (today) is perfect. This music isn't by any means perfect sounding, there's a lot of freedom with it."

You can perhaps catch The Tillers.. freedom on Ludlow Avenue, where they randomly play the restless street, letting old sounds leak out of the gutters, crying up from the pavement, turning it into a dance floor. - City Beat Magazine

The crowd cheers as three musicians settle into one of their favorite tunes. People standing shoulder-to-shoulder clap, stomp and sing along as the banjo-picker croons and the acoustic guitarist at his side sings the accompaniment: "Rich man took my home and drove me from my door/And I ain't got no home in this world anymore." The upright-bass player in the faded baseball cap thumps away as the room full of twentysomethings move to the lyrics. "Oh, the gamblin' man is rich an' the workin' man is poor/And I ain't got no home in this world anymore."

The Tillers, a Cincinnati-based folk trio, specialize in creating scenes one might expect to have seen during the Great Depression, if not for the tattooed punk rockers sprinkled throughout the crowd and the listeners on cellphones in the back. "I Ain't Got No Home"--one of several Woody Guthrie melodies featured in this show--was first recorded about seventy years ago. But considering the sky-high number of foreclosed houses the recent economic crisis has spawned across the country, the music is eerily relevant today.

When The Tillers sing union hymns like "Which Side Are You On," they do so with an awareness of the history behind the songs. "Playing folk music, you have to be just as much a historian as a musician," banjo player and vocalist Mike Oberst says. "A lot of the things that were going on then are going on just the same now," guitarist Sean Geil says. So their fans sing along passionately when The Tillers sing, "Us poor folks haven't got a chance unless we organize."

As part of America's progressive folk tradition, The Tillers demonstrate that the political left has long been essential to the country's cultural fabric--even in those parts of the country that Sarah Palin might call the "real" America. The Tillers remind their young listeners that folk icons like Woody Guthrie were actually hardcore left-wingers. Artists like Lead Belly, Guthrie and Pete Seeger fiercely fought for progressive causes and later passed the torch to musicians like Bob Dylan.

The Tillers' banjo and fiddle player Michael Oberst began playing folk music with guitarist Sean Geil in 2007; soon after, they recruited bassist Jason Soudrette. The group had previously played in punk rock bands, but their love for history and the "old-time" music of the '30s and '40s made them set aside their electric guitars for banjos, fiddles and harmonica racks. The three musicians believe part of their mission is to teach people about the history of labor struggle in America, often peppering their shows with stories about coal mines and dust-bowl farmers. They hope to build the same sense of community that drove people to organize against economic injustice generations ago.


The Times They Are a-'Changin'
Many folk musicians and scholars divide the American folk tradition into two camps. The "rural" side is rooted primarily in social gatherings and draws from the diverse cultural backgrounds of ordinary Americans; the banjo and some of the blues-inspired song structures have African origins, while other instruments and dances originated from the Irish and German roots of Appalachian immigrants. Yasha Aginsky, a documentarian of traditional music and its origins, explains that rural folk music wasn't used explicitly for political purposes, but that because "it was everybody's music," it was inherently political. "It was the voice of the oppressed and poor people that crossed racial and religious boundaries," he says.

The other side of American folk music--the "urban" side--came to life in the '30s and '40s. Artists from big cities with classical music backgrounds stumbled upon the songs being played by "folk" in rural settings and were drawn to the raw authenticity of it. Many "urban" folk singers quickly took up the political goals of labor organizing and fighting racial segregation. Artists like Seeger, Bess Lomax Hawes, Lee Hays and Guthrie formed a group called the Almanac Singers, which explicitly aimed to mobilize working-class people for better workplace conditions and a fair wage.

In the blacklisting days of the postwar period, musicians like Guthrie and the Almanacs fell out of favor. But in the '60s urban folk was revived as a political force. People like Odetta Holmes, Phil Ochs, Joan Baez and, of course, Dylan, became musical and cultural leaders in the civil rights movement and campaigns against the Vietnam War.


Political and Personal
The Tillers draw from both folk traditions but always return to the theme of economic justice, which for them still means expressing solidarity with workers by emphasizing fair wages and a decent quality of life for everyday people.

Oberst grows somber when he talks about his own family's history with coal companies. In the late '40s his grandfather, an Indiana farmer, signed away his farm to representatives of the Sunlight Coal Company who were intimidating farmers into selling their land for mining. When Oberst' - The Nation

A couple of weeks ago, I finally got to check out the muched-buzzed about band The Tillers, nominated for a Cincinnati Entertainment Award in the Folk/Americana category. Playing in the Southgate House's "lounge" room, the trio (playing stand-up bass, guitar, banjo and more) huddled around a single, vintage-looking, multi-directional mic and delivered their sweet, accomplished spin on traditional Folk, Country, Gospel and Blues.

The band's debut, Ludlow Street Rag (released by Bloomington, Ind.-based label, Chestnut Tree Records), is the next best thing to seeing the band live (their harmonies are especially resonating in a concert setting). Some have called the threesome "Punk Folk," but that's likely because some band members have tattoos. This is straight-up "old-time" music — close your eyes and you'll swear you're at some jamboree in the Southern backwoods, circa 1925.

The next, next best thing to seeing them live? This cool music video, for the band's song "There Is a Road (Route 50)." - Mike Breen of City Beat Cincinnati

A couple of weeks ago, I finally got to check out the muched-buzzed about band The Tillers, nominated for a Cincinnati Entertainment Award in the Folk/Americana category. Playing in the Southgate House's "lounge" room, the trio (playing stand-up bass, guitar, banjo and more) huddled around a single, vintage-looking, multi-directional mic and delivered their sweet, accomplished spin on traditional Folk, Country, Gospel and Blues.

The band's debut, Ludlow Street Rag (released by Bloomington, Ind.-based label, Chestnut Tree Records), is the next best thing to seeing the band live (their harmonies are especially resonating in a concert setting). Some have called the threesome "Punk Folk," but that's likely because some band members have tattoos. This is straight-up "old-time" music — close your eyes and you'll swear you're at some jamboree in the Southern backwoods, circa 1925.

The next, next best thing to seeing them live? This cool music video, for the band's song "There Is a Road (Route 50)." - Mike Breen of City Beat Cincinnati

Back at Café Wha? when Robert Zimmerman was a bit of a pest singing Woody Guthrie covers with a made up name "Dylan" and the Weavers had a hit with a Disneyfied version of Huddy Ledbetter's "Good Night Irene," these boys were a couple of generations from taking their first breath. Back then most everybody sang covers with varying ability and cloying earnest sincerity, and that was a risk you had to take if you wanted a beer in a folk club. Some had the spirit and couldn't sing, and some pretended to be Irish and sang well while feeling false. If The Tillers could pop back then in New York at that hip spot they would have made a lot of folkies in their turtlenecks happy they got out the house to smoke a joint and drink a beer. These boys sing well especially in harmony, play it right with no showy embellishments, and have enough grit to sing a union song even if there were coppers brandishing billy clubs at the door in any small town with a brewing class war.

Sean Mountain, Michael Oberst and Jason Soudrette are not the singing history lesson that some folk cover bands have become. Michael, Sean and Jason were bona fide members of Punks Against Fascism in their early bands, with that amplified sound of fury and a spirit that could rage against the machine while rejecting racism and the false rush of skinhead bigotry. One day Michael read an article in a punk 'zene that advocated taking country back, with a healthy nod of respect to Woody Guthrie and Pete Seeger, and discovered that these icons of folk were "more punk than punk." He found a kindred spirit in Pete Seeger. Imagine that!

Michael's back story is one of responsibility since the age of 13, emotionally supporting an abandoned mother with bone and blood cancer, and taking bus trips to a Louisville hospital while other kids were playing video games and watching The Simpsons. He knows the value of healthcare and a living wage from far too young. After a conversation late into the evening, Michael showed me the new tattoo he got on his shin. It said "Bound For Glory" and the image of Mr. Guthrie. Each of these men have a story to tell. The Tillers were born from the outrage expressed in Woody's guitar with its slogan painted onto the wood, "This machine kills fascists."

When local working class patrons of the Parkland Bar & Grill on February 27, 2008 saw that the first band in 60 years was walking in the door at 10:45 p.m. on hump day, a skeptical gray haired man looked up from his beer and wanted to know, "Wha?" He asked me if I liked these guys, and I said "Yep." By the end of the night these boys had made enough money in tips and CD sales to match the usurious renegotiated fee they had been asked to accept at a venue owned by a ubiquitous chilly establishment. One workingman left with two homemade CDs signed by each of the players. Another man made sure his name was on the mailing list and said he'd be their groupy. It's a rare three-piece cover band that can win the hearts and minds of a workingman in his local bar. An original they sing about Highway 50 calling them away from home sings fits fine among the classics. When the band sang the union song, "Which Side Are You On?" a woman looked up from her beer to shout "That's right!" This CD contains the spirit of Woody Guthrie. - Billy Sheppard (indie web reviewer)

Back at Café Wha? when Robert Zimmerman was a bit of a pest singing Woody Guthrie covers with a made up name "Dylan" and the Weavers had a hit with a Disneyfied version of Huddy Ledbetter's "Good Night Irene," these boys were a couple of generations from taking their first breath. Back then most everybody sang covers with varying ability and cloying earnest sincerity, and that was a risk you had to take if you wanted a beer in a folk club. Some had the spirit and couldn't sing, and some pretended to be Irish and sang well while feeling false. If The Tillers could pop back then in New York at that hip spot they would have made a lot of folkies in their turtlenecks happy they got out the house to smoke a joint and drink a beer. These boys sing well especially in harmony, play it right with no showy embellishments, and have enough grit to sing a union song even if there were coppers brandishing billy clubs at the door in any small town with a brewing class war.

Sean Mountain, Michael Oberst and Jason Soudrette are not the singing history lesson that some folk cover bands have become. Michael, Sean and Jason were bona fide members of Punks Against Fascism in their early bands, with that amplified sound of fury and a spirit that could rage against the machine while rejecting racism and the false rush of skinhead bigotry. One day Michael read an article in a punk 'zene that advocated taking country back, with a healthy nod of respect to Woody Guthrie and Pete Seeger, and discovered that these icons of folk were "more punk than punk." He found a kindred spirit in Pete Seeger. Imagine that!

Michael's back story is one of responsibility since the age of 13, emotionally supporting an abandoned mother with bone and blood cancer, and taking bus trips to a Louisville hospital while other kids were playing video games and watching The Simpsons. He knows the value of healthcare and a living wage from far too young. After a conversation late into the evening, Michael showed me the new tattoo he got on his shin. It said "Bound For Glory" and the image of Mr. Guthrie. Each of these men have a story to tell. The Tillers were born from the outrage expressed in Woody's guitar with its slogan painted onto the wood, "This machine kills fascists."

When local working class patrons of the Parkland Bar & Grill on February 27, 2008 saw that the first band in 60 years was walking in the door at 10:45 p.m. on hump day, a skeptical gray haired man looked up from his beer and wanted to know, "Wha?" He asked me if I liked these guys, and I said "Yep." By the end of the night these boys had made enough money in tips and CD sales to match the usurious renegotiated fee they had been asked to accept at a venue owned by a ubiquitous chilly establishment. One workingman left with two homemade CDs signed by each of the players. Another man made sure his name was on the mailing list and said he'd be their groupy. It's a rare three-piece cover band that can win the hearts and minds of a workingman in his local bar. An original they sing about Highway 50 calling them away from home sings fits fine among the classics. When the band sang the union song, "Which Side Are You On?" a woman looked up from her beer to shout "That's right!" This CD contains the spirit of Woody Guthrie. - Billy Sheppard (indie web reviewer)