Ian Schultz
Emma O’Shea, left, and Kate Ruland: fragile and mournful.
The Spine Stealers’ music brims with the kind of mixed fortune you might hear sputtering from a transistor radio behind the counter at a last chance West Texas gas station. The duo of Emma O’Shea and Kate Ruland claims the influence of Jewel and Canadian folk legend Basia Bulat, but when they play I think of the searing, emotional presence of Texas trailblazer and songwriter Kimmie Rhodes.
The Sun Prairie natives never picked up an instrument with any determination until COVID-19 hit in March 2020. At the time, they were roommates.
“I started learning guitar during the pandemic,” says Ruland. The guitar belonged to her grandfather, a gift to him from her grandmother. O’Shea finally picked up a gift guitar from her father. “My dad bought it off of Craigslist and it just sat in my room. I was afraid to learn it.”
But learn they did. Then came the singing, and the original lyrics and the melodies began. There was a liberation that came with making music with no expectations of ever taking it out of their shared apartment. Nothing like a pandemic to make you less self-conscious in the midst of creative isolation.
When the virus lifted they were ready to hit some open mics, namely at Mickey’s, which they attended nearly every week. Their first live performance other than an open mic came in July 2022. Things roared along from there. “We went from being terrified at playing open mics at Mickey’s to playing 89 shows in 2023,” says Ruland.
Last summer they released The River Teeth Tapes; a four-song EP that includes “Lake Life,” a circular song that crackles like a cast iron pan in a fire. Ruland tends to write their melodies, O’Shea the lyrics.
This is not dance music. It’s trance music. The Spine Stealers aren’t concerned with up-tempo, or even mid-tempo paces. In fact you’re better off just sitting down for it. At a March show at The Weary Traveler, the usual loud drone of patron voices simmered away little by little, one song at a time, until the duo had the full attention of the crowd. The Spine Stealers seem to understand what songs of isolation and loneliness can do to the heart of a listener in a tavern. Or in a restaurant.
“We’re stoned at the Waffle House,” goes the first line of their song named after the roadside diner chain. Then things get decidedly more drastic:
Say let’s go.
Never really ask what I think.
Man I hate all the ways you love me.
All that you are and all that you be.
I hate all the ways you love me.
Whether it’s articulated in this song or others in their growing catalog, “I can really see Emma’s voice and creativity,” says Ruland. “She’s always had a dark sense of humor especially when the music is so sweet and melodic.” That contradiction explains what the Spine Stealers are up to as much as anything. Like powdered sugar on a lump of coal.
All of this is made more fragile and mournful by pedal steel accompaniment from Verona native James Grenier. Loaded with squeals and filled with fury, the pedal steel is a hard instrument to play with restraint. Grenier is a great listener and his instrument adds just the right amount of heft to the lean, skin-and-bones sound.
Forging more confident vocal harmonies will take them to the next level. That said, not many self-taught pandemic prodigies have emerged with the force that the Spine Stealers. Certainly not in Madison. They’re getting more and bigger gig offers — in addition to their “residency” at The Weary Traveler, last month they supported Chicago folk-punk rebel Ike Reilly at the High Noon.
Still, the Spine Stealers seem to approach their live set with the same care, caution and respect that they might have back in the Mickey’s open mic days. “A lot about getting on stage is crazy to me,” says Ruland. “Our journey has been very unexpected,” adds O’Shea. n
The Spine Stealers next show at The Weary Traveler is on April 25. They’ll perform on the Waterfront Festival’s Cottonwood Stage in Yahara Place Park on June 9 at 1 p.m.
