Bear | Marquette Music Scene
If you’ve spent any time near live music in the Upper Peninsula over the last few years, chances are you’ve found yourself in front of The Make-Believe Spurs.
This Marquette County-based trio has made their mark the old-fashioned way—through relentless gigging, heartfelt songs, and a whole lot of sparkle. Bars, houses, festivals, street corners, you name it—they’ve probably played it. And we’re lucky for that, because these three are the real deal.
Their debut album A Thing With Feathers drops June 11, and I couldn’t be more excited to see it shared with the world. Last week, I got to hang out with them at my office for an afternoon—talking music, regional roots, a bit of activism, and the delightful weirdness of life as a hard-touring band in this wild corner of rural America.
The Beginning
Bear: Let’s start at the beginning—how did you all end up coming together as a band? I saw it sort of unfolding online, but what’s the official story?
Brian Wallen: It’s a fun story.
Molly Wallen: (To Brian) You’re already smiling.
Brian: Molly and I are married—we’ve been playing music together since 2017 as a duo. We moved to the U.P. about three and a half years ago. One of our good friends, Mavis, kept telling us about each other. She’d say, “I think you guys would really hit it off.” We’d see each other at parties or around town, and I’d always tell her, “Anytime you want to sit in or jam, let me know.” She always said, “Okay, I’ll think about it.” That went on for about a year and a half.
Then one night she came to one of our gigs. I gave her the same invite, and this time she just said, “I’ll start tomorrow.” She showed up at the next gig—and we’ve been a band ever since.
Molly: And the wild part? We’d never actually heard her play before.
Mavis Farr: That’s what made it fun. Total leap.
Bear: That’s awesome. I’ve seen it happen before—my uncle (MMS HOFer George Bengtson) joined a band the same way. He just pulled up a piano at a bar one night, started playing, and they (MMS HOFer Kurt Gronvall) couldn’t shake him after that. Still the best piano player I’ve ever seen.
What’s in a Name?
Bear: So, the name—Make-Believe Spurs. There’s something pointed but playful about it. What’s the story behind that?
Mavis: I wrote a novel called Make-Believe Spurs during NaNoWriMo. We’d been texting back and forth trying to come up with a band name—two weeks of ridiculous ideas. Then I remembered that one. I’d basically been sitting on a band name for 16 years without realizing it.
Bear: Honestly, I expected something deeper—but that still tracks. The name hits a certain tone, especially with, y’know, the atmosphere out there right now.
Brian: Funny you say that. You’re the second person this week to ask if it’s a Trump reference—like, “Make-Believe Spurs,” a twist on “Make America Great Again.” Totally unintentional, but I kind of love that it can be read that way.
Bear: Well, I wasn’t actually quite thinking of the “bone spurs,” but that is pretty hilarious.
Sounds and Sparkle
Bear: Now, genre-wise—I know labels are imperfect, but I do think they help create a kind of universal language to describe sound. So for someone just discovering you, how would you describe your sound?
Molly: Our business cards say “sparkly alt-folk.” But that only kinda scratches the surface.
Brian: Yeah, we say “alt-folk” mostly because we’re not strictly a traditional folk band. We’re not country, not bluegrass. We’ve got elements of all that, but we don’t want to fully commit to any one lane.
Mavis: Yeah, it’s more like…
Molly: We just want people to have fun. We pick songs that let you escape for a little while. And we’re always sparkly.
Bear: You’re definitely sparkly sitting here. You try, and it works.
Swamps, Birds, and Feathers
Bear: Alright, let’s talk influences. Not just bands—but songs, scenes, maybe even non-musical stuff. What’s shaping the way you write and perform?
Brian: Swamps.
Mavis: And birds.
Brian: Swamps and birds, for sure. We all love nature. Mavis has been deep into birding and swamp-walking for a long time, and she pulled us into that world too.
Molly: Or “Here’s every bird I saw on my drive today.”
Bear: That sounds a lot like my messages with my partner lately.
Have you seen the wolf-corgis?
Molly: What?
Bear: They’re these wolf-looking dogs, but they’re corgis. I just saw a picture today. Little corgi butts, big wolf faces. It’s ridiculous.
Brian: We love dogs, and drifting around looking at dogs. It’s a whole vibe.
On Hope and the Album
“People are struggling to find hope right now… and birds don’t give a f***. That’s inspiring.” —Brian
Bear: Since we’re already talking birds—does that tie into your album title, A Thing With Feathers?
Brian: Absolutely. It’s a double reference—to birds, obviously, but also to the Emily Dickinson poem. People are struggling to find hope right now, and birds… well, they just don’t give a f*ck. That’s inspiring.
Molly: That’s what we’re working toward. Just… being in nature, staying light, letting it fly.
Bear: I could use a little more of that in my life. I like to tell myself I have more of it than I do.
Road-Tested Tracks
Bear: The album really caught me off guard, in the best way. It kind of blew me away. If the right person hears it, they’re going to wonder why this isn’t on New West or something. You all are out there working your asses off, and it shows….
Molly: We have. We really have.
Bear: That’s why I think there’s a real shot here. You’re not tied down by businesses or brick-and-mortar career obligations. A lot of people I know with great records aren’t in a position to run with it, but you just might be.
So, are you playing most of these songs live now?
Brian: Yeah, most of them.
Bear: Has anything surprised you once you started playing them out? Maybe a song that came together unexpectedly, or one the audience latched onto in a way you didn’t expect?
Molly: I’m trying to think—we usually play our songs live for a while before recording, so they really settle. But it has been a minute since some of them were written.
Brian: One that stands out is our first single, “Crow.” I literally wrote that while walking around our neighborhood in Ishpeming… He said, “What if you gave it some drive? Make it more Black Crowes.” That changed the whole energy of the song.
Mavis: That “crow energy.”
Brian: Exactly. First time we played it live, people really responded. And that’s when I knew—okay, this one’s a keeper. It ended up being our first single.
Roots and Reach
Bear: Your lyrics are pretty rooted in the region. Do you ever worry that might limit your reach? Or do you think people outside the U.P. will connect with it the same way folks connect with music from-about Appalachia or the Delta?
Molly: I actually think that kind of specificity makes it more powerful. People up here are used to feeling overlooked. Having music that speaks directly to this place matters—and we have people all over the country who’ve followed us and really connected with that.
“These songs are like chapters in a bigger book.” —Brian
Brian: I just write what I see around me. That’s how I’ve always written—whether it’s the Southwest, Indiana, or the U.P. I guess I’d call myself an observational songwriter. These songs are like chapters in a bigger book.
Molly: It’s kind of autobiographical, in that way.
Activism and Identity
Bear: So switching gears a bit—you’ve been visibly involved in some anti-fascist organizing around here. How does that activism blend into your music? Are the two always connected?
Brian: At first, I thought they were separate. But it didn’t take long to realize they aren’t. I started writing songs that were more directly political, and when you’re standing in front of a crowd at a protest with TV6 filming, you’re going to be associated with that. We had a talk about it as a band, like—are we okay with that? And it took about five seconds to say yes. Because it’s the right thing.
Molly: There was a little hesitation at first, because we were worried about losing gigs.
Brian: Yeah, but the reality is—we still have to pay the bills. We were worried, but we haven’t lost much. We’re not out there preaching every night. We’re just being us.
Molly: And we’re pretty good at reading the room. We want people to have a good time.
Brian: Right. We play the songs that feel right, and people take from them what they want.
Community Rising
Bear: Have you noticed other local acts starting to get more outspoken lately?
Brian: Yeah, actually. There was an event at Ore Dock Brewing Company recently—kind of a soft protest with the theme “music by the people, for the people.” The Knockabouts, Union Suits, Cold Spring… great lineup.
Molly: We had a solid crowd. Everyone was supportive.
Mavis: I’ve done tons of shows like that, and this was the first time I’ve ever seen every band stick around to watch the others. Nobody bailed. That felt special.
Bear: That’s the heart of it.
Freeform Flow
Bear: You hate setlists, huh?
Mavis: We hate setlists. The adventure of not knowing what we’re going to play is half the fun.
Brian: Sometimes I’ll launch into something brand new without warning. Mavis just rolls with it. Molly scrambles for lyrics.
Molly: He’s a creative handful.
Mavis: We treat it a little like the Dead—never the same twice.
The Chaos Chronicles
Bear: Alright—fun question time. If your band had a spirit animal?
Brian: Crow.
Molly: Crows. Or maybe two wolves and a bunch of crows.
Mavis: Or an alpaca in a crow hat.
Molly: …or yeah, we can’t decide.
Bear: So all of them?
Molly: Yeah
Bear: I can accept that. What are you listening to right now that would surprise your fans?
Molly: I’ve been listening to Taylor Swift’s new album. Again.
Brian: That might surprise some people.
Mavis: SZA and All the Yes records up through 1981.
Brian: Also SZA. And a lot of Springsteen lately.
Bear: I don’t really believe in “guilty pleasures” myself: I mean I like black metal and No Doubt.
Bear: Touring rural America always brings out some chaos—got any best, worst, or weirdest gig stories?
Brian: Oh yeah. There was the guy who randomly started chanting “Trump!” at a show. Totally unprompted. We were about to play a Dolly Parton song, and I was just talking about how much I admire her. Out of nowhere, he yells that the only place Dolly belongs is in the kitchen or my bed—and then just starts yelling “Trump!”
Molly: He kept trying to get me to drink so I’d dance more. Definitely one of the worst.
Mavis: That was one of the few shows where I was like, “Molly, I’m not leaving your side tonight.”
Brian: Then there was the haunted band shell in Manistique. Dead bird inside. Windy as hell. When we got home, Mavis’ daughter’s bed was literally on fire. And her mom almost got blown off the porch by the wind.
Molly: It was chaos. That was the night our car blew up right there too.
Brian: Oh yeah, we had to drive Mavis’ car home.
Mavis: Yep, that was a wild night…
Brian: But the best nights? Playing outside at Blackrocks in the summer. People dancing, weather’s perfect—it just clicks.
Bear: That’s the dream.
Molly: Except for the noise ordinance kicking in at 9 p.m. and everyone yelling at us to keep going.
Bear: Classic.
Start Listening
- Whippoorwill – three-part harmony (Jason Molina cover)
- Crow – swamp rock with energy
- Lady Superior – part of the rock set
- Late September Dreaming – a slow burner
Find The Make-Believe Spurs
themakebelievespurs.com
Instagram & Facebook: @themakebelievespurs
Streaming on: Spotify, Apple Music, etc.
Bear: Perfect. I think that’s a wrap. Thanks for the stories—and the sparkly vibes.
