As Marquette rolls into Pride Month, it’s only fitting that The Bootstrap Boys are rolling into town with their outlaw brand of Queer Country grit and soul. Kicking off June with a heavy dose of heart, harmony, and honky-tonk, the band brings their Heavy Hearts Honky-Tonk Tour to the Ore Dock Brewing Company just as the country starts flying its rainbow flags.
Bear caught up with them for a quick e-mail Q&A ahead of the show to talk grief, grit, road life, and the stories behind the songs:
Bear: The Heavy Hearts Honky-Tonk Tour — that name hits with some weight. I know you lost someone close last year… has the tour been a way of carrying that memory forward?
Jake Stilton: We have been no strangers to grief and great loss in this band, but this was one of our own founding members, and it hit real hard. We go on because there is no other option that honors his memory or the years of hard work and dedication that we, as individuals and a group, have poured into this project. Yes, it is with very heavy hearts, but we do go on.
Bear: You’ve always blended tradition with grit — where would you place The Bootstrap Boys on the country music map? Closer to Cash, or just way out in the woods on your own?
Jake: Out in the woods on our own is how it feels, but I honestly don’t know if that sentiment translates to the gen pop or not. Johnny Cash is definitely still spinnin’ on the record player.
Bear: Songs like Poverty Line and ’57 Chevy paint vivid pictures. Can you share the story or inspiration behind one of those — or a newer one?
Jake: ’57 Chevy tells the story of my father buying a car from a guy — before he shipped off to Vietnam — that didn’t think he would be returning. He bought it for $10 and then took it out in a field and rolled it, just for kicks. That’s the story as I remembered it when I wrote the song, anyhow.
Poverty Line is semi-autobiographical and the first song I wrote for this project, back somewhere in a blurry 2012–14 range of time.
Bear: You’ve hit a lot of rural spots across Michigan. How does playing in places like Marquette or Grayling compare to more metro crowds in other states?
Jake. We find the weirdos wherever we go. It’s like some invisible bat signal or something goes up, and the people that are tuned into that frequency just show up. It’s like, “Oh, you don’t fit in? Come say hi!” Or, “Oh, your friend group thinks you’re strange? Well, we think they’re strange! Get over here!”
The main difference is more about the time you get to spend with a smaller town’s more intimate crowd, versus sometimes being rushed with a larger metro crowd at a venue that’s ready for the next act as soon as you’re finished.
Bear: Touring can be both exciting and exhausting. How do you keep the energy up and the camaraderie strong on the road — or do you just fight it out in the van and hug it out later?
Jake: We have become adept at blowing off a little steam and then getting over it immediately. At this juncture, we mostly know what buttons not to push. I love a good view when traveling, and the drummer loves a good nap. Lil Mama likes to curate songs, and the bass player likes to game with headphones on. We give each other as much space as five adults rambling around in a 30-year-old RV can give each other, I would think. We also have a healthy inside joke catalog to draw from, and humor helps everything.
Bear: For someone hearing you for the first time at Ore Dock, what’s the one song they have to catch — and what does it say about The Bootstrap Boys?
Jake: Apropos to the tour name, Strong Drinks for Heavy Hearts is a song that’s resonating a lot with me right now. I suppose that’s saying we like to drown our sorrows. Inasmuch — come out and cheers us! Don’t make us drink alone. We’ll do it, but we’d prefer to cheers y’all back.