For a decade (encompassing five well-received albums), Horse Feathers were known for delicately gorgeous acoustic folk songs, often dressed up with orchestral arrangements and anchored by frontman Justin Ringleā€™s cerebral lyrics. But on 2014ā€™s So It Is with Us, the Portland-born institution started prudently exploring new sounds, tempos, and textures.

That exploration blooms in full on the bandā€™s new record, Appreciation, released earlier this month via Kill Rock Stars, which finds Ringle, longtime violinist Nathan Crockett, and a new rhythm sectionā€”multi-instrumentalist J. Tom Hnatow and drummer Robby Cosenza, both Lexington, Kentucky-based session musiciansā€”ripping through country-rockers, stirring soul jams, 1970s-inspired pop, and gentle Southern boogie. These arenā€™t necessarily twang-punk scorchers, but they also arenā€™t reflective of the old Horse Feathers.

ā€œIn the past, I was always so afraid of going into these areas that perhaps could be really polarizing to our fan base,ā€ Ringle says. ā€œI got to this point where I was like, ā€˜I think Iā€™ve scratched [the folk] itch. Iā€™ve satisfied it.ā€™ I couldā€™ve continued to wear a deeper rut into that path, but I was like, ā€˜I gotta do something different.ā€™ā€



Ringleā€™s musical restlessness wasnā€™t the only impetus for growth. In fact, a perfect storm of change seemed to descend on Horse Feathers. First, Portland started to transform from the mid-2000s nirvana that welcomed Ringle into a post-Portlandia caricature.

ā€œThis place that I love got unceremoniously overrun and a culture that I knew and a community that I knew just disappeared,ā€ he says. ā€œI felt like I wasnā€™t at home in the place that was my home.ā€

So Ringle relocated to Astoria, and soon after moved to Asheville, North Carolina, where he produced a record for the band River Whyless and soaked up the Southā€™s ample supply of bluegrass, roots, and soul music. Around the same time, Ringle was adjusting to the realities of streaming platforms and the ephemeral nature of music these days.

ā€œFor years, the sequence was important,ā€ he says. ā€œThen all of a sudden, youā€™re in an industry where it doesnā€™t matter anymore. As an artist, that becomes an identity crisis.ā€

Finally, Ringle found himself questioning his place in the contemporary music scene. His strengthā€”acoustic folk musicā€”no longer felt timely: ā€œIā€™m a white guy playing guitar,ā€ he says. ā€œItā€™s not an under-represented demographic in the music world. Iā€™m aware of it. Iā€™m not crying about it, Iā€™m just saying that this isnā€™t really my time. I feel like thereā€™s other... voices out there, that this is their time.ā€

In other words, the universe gave Ringle an opportunity to do something new. He didnā€™t just recognize that, he embraced it.

ā€œFor a long time it was like, ā€˜Sure, I like Nick Drake a lot. I like Pentangle.ā€™ But at the same time, I really like Van Morrison and the Rolling Stones, too,ā€ he says. ā€œI just wanted to put out an offering that had more dimensions.ā€

Same goes for the live Horse Feathers experience. After 13 years of playing some of Portlandā€™s prettiest shows, Ringle has brought change to the stage as well. ā€œItā€™s got movement now,ā€ he says with a laugh. ā€œItā€™s not a ā€˜sit down and drink teaā€™ affair anymore.ā€ recommended