Spud media

Have you heard of Raccoon Tour? Well, dig the wax out of your ears! They’re only the biggest band to come out of Boise since Built to Spill! They went from packing local venues wall-to-wall to filling out the Treefort Main Stage, invading the echelon of bands like Dinosaur Jr., in only a couple short years.

My personal interactions with Nate Burr have only been positive, between his support during the Great Spud Cancellation around Issues 3-5 and his valuable constructive criticism from Issue 6. It’s worth mentioning now that he’s been a Patreon supporter for ages, doing his part to keep this rag up and running, because supporting local art is just in his DNA. It’s high time we gave Nate the Great a feature in this magazine- too bad it had to be the one where we say goodbye.

Raccoon Tour have release the single LP The Dentonweaver and singles Sofarinrunning and Sorry Sarah through I Surrender records. Now the time has come for Nate and the gang to travel to the distant shores of New Jersey to create new stuff on a level that most of us can only dream of. Before his departure, Nate met with us at The District coffeeshop to talk about his meteoric rise, what it’s like to work in big budget studios, what he loves about Boise, and to offer some advice for up-and-coming stars like you and me.

S.U. Raccoon Tour came out pretty quickly and just exploded, from what I can tell. What was it like going from just starting to playing Treefort Main Stage in such a short amount of time?

N.B. Stressful. The thing is, part of being a musician is sucking. You need to be terrible at music for a while, and that’s how you get your sea legs. It’s really important to have that time where you’re dog shit, playing in living rooms, and just learning as you go. Because Raccoon Tour took off so quickly, there was none of the fun DIY living room scene stuff that would normally come with any other project I was doing. I feel kind of cheated, to a certain degree, that I wish I had taken some more time to be shitty before I started really pushing it. Whenever I’m chatting with musicians now, I tell them, don’t be pushing social media and stuff until you’re ready to take off.

There are still things that I want to improve on, in terms of my performance and the live sound, it’s just trial by fire every single time you go out anymore. Because there are such heightened expectations.

Is this your first musical project?

This is number two… technically? I used to play bass in a band called CAEDUS, and that was where I first entered the music scene, was playing with an established band. Bass is easy, anyone can play bass. They handed me a bass guitar and in 6 days I was on a stage playing in high school. It’s really not hard, assuming it’s root notes of course.

That’s not something bassists like to hear.

I’m surprised they can comprehend sentences. That’s a pretty recent development, good for them.

Basically, through doing that little punk band when I was 15-16 years old, [I learned] how to book shows and meet people. It’s a fun social event, and that really opened up my eyes. I worked behind the scenes booking shows for a lot of people, and eventually just threw myself back out there.

In the time between playing in Caedus and getting back into the scene, I started a YouTube channel that talked about alternative music. Then I started an alternative music project so that fanbase carried over. I had a lot more friends at that point so we had a serious head-start. Things kind of spiraled out of control. I’m OK now, I hope!

Is that more fulfilling that being in somebody else’s band?

It has a trade off. For example, when I was playing bass in somebody else’s project, I felt I could be more loosey-goosey and experimental. Because at the end of the day, it’s not my baby. I can fiddle around with stuff. When it is my project, I’m a control freak and kind of an asshole sometimes. I need to really try to get things working the way that I want them too. The way things sound, they way they look, the way that things are presented, verbiage used, I’m very particular about a lot of stuff. It’s not as fun as being in someone else’s project, but it is more fulfilling. It’s the difference between a hookup and a marriage. It’s the kind of thing that you get more out of for your soul, if it’s primarily your vision.  I’d love to play in other people’s bands, someday. I’m just a terrible musician.

“…what I was into was very niche and a lot of people really like the niche thing as well. As ironic as that may be.”

I understand the YouTube thing is pretty popular. What was the transition like between music and that?

Natural. It was easy, actually. I’ve had a showman’s flair since I was a little kid. I was hosting my middle school talent show. I even did acting, and even a few commercials. Nothing crazy, you know, a local PSA about how you need to turn off your car in parking lots, but you know, it all just came naturally. Having a background in writing and doodling, and now music, YouTube kind of just came naturally. The thing is, there are a lot of people who participate in DIY scenes around the country. There is an audience and an appetite for smaller projects. I kind of, for a time, had a reputation of being in tune with that sort of audience of weirdos who are into music that had 30 listeners. I was trying to shout out and elevate a lot of projects I believed in but had 40 followers at a time. A lot of people really felt… very endeared by it. I think I was better off having some DIY under my belt because that became a huge thing that separated me from a lot of other music channels.

You knew what you were talking about.

Not necessarily more so, but the things I was talking about were things that others weren’t talking about. I think there are a lot of people more knowledgeable than me about a lot of music stuff but, what I was into was very niche and a lot of people really like the niche thing as well. As ironic as that may be.

From YouTube to Raccoon Tour was another natural transition?

Yeah. That was completely by accident. For my senior project, I wrote a song called Sofarinrunning, and I recorded it with a friend in a basement of a little bike shop in Twin Falls on an iPad. It was just a big room with a curtain and brick walls. You can hear the room in the original recording. I threw it on YouTube because, you know, I had a YouTube. I threw it on SoundCloud and eventually Spotify. I made my own Photoshopped cover. Even in that cover, I actually misspelled my own band name! You see, there’s one C in Raccoon Tour right there. I told people is was a purposeful [sic] choice, but it was completely by accident. But it had already been uploaded to everything. Very DIY.

It really took off. I think it went from 0 to like 10k-20k streams, like, overnight. Which was crazy. For a lot of bands locally, that would comprise of all streams they’ve ever had. To have that overnight was rediculous, absurd, and goofy. That layered on a lot of pressure, immediately. Within like a month or two of putting that out, I got an email from a fairly prominent record label who I’d heard of. I’d listened to their stuff as a kid. I got on the call with them and they were like, yeah, we want to give this project a shot, going off of an iPad demo. We will hook you up with recording funds, press your work on vinyl, connect you with people who know what they’re doing, and stuff like artwork, assets, merchandise, the things you need to make this as fully realized as possible. We want to help you see that through. The deal that they wound up shooting me was absurdly in my favor when you compare it to industry standards, where you get 20% of revenue after profit and stuff like that.

That really helped move things forward, where all of the sudden you go from an iPad in a room with a blanket down the middle to this crazy studio in New York City, staying in Brooklyn, using the same toilet as the Front Bottoms and Brand New just a few months prior. Crazy! I remember, the recording studio that we were in had a slight give in the floor. Everything felt the tiniest bit mushy. Subtle enough where you think you’re going crazy if you point it out. Eventually I asked about it and they’re like, there’s like, springs underneath to even out the acoustics. It makes like 0.000001% of a difference and it cost like $4 million to install, but we have it. Goofy, rediculous stuff like that. Zero to that. It was crazy. The imposter syndrome that comes with that, and the terror of having these crazy resources and wondering if I am capable enough to take advantage of those and see them to their fullest potential… it’s a lot of pressure for your first solo project. I had nightmares for weeks prior.

When you think about YouTube music projects, they’re shit. Generally. And that’s because most people would be coming from a background of video games or something like that. And they don’t know where to drop a rap project. When you build something from the ground up that is music oriented, then you make more of that music and share it with the people you’ve already found, it becomes a lot more sustainable than other channels. That wasn’t a calculated thing, it just worked out. I guess the term is serendipity, where you set yourself up for good opportunities.

Are you still doing the YouTube channel?

Yeah, I mean, I’m always tossing around ideas, it’s just… I think I have close to 330,000 subscribers. When it was just me in high school in my bedroom with an all-in-one computer with built-in graphics and nothing crazy, I could just make a meme and throw it online. I had a picture of Spongebob and a voice cap of Tom Kenny swearing. I threw that on. There was a nice freedom to post whatever, but now that that kind of audience is built in, that’s almost like the population of Wyoming, watching shit. That’s another level of added pressure, like, Oh my God, that’s a lot of people. I’m a lot more careful of what I’m posting but it’s kind of shooting me in the foot. I’m asked every day if I’m still doing the YouTube, and I’m like yeah, just give me 8 months and I’ll make something new! I have to fine-tune and tweak everything so I don’t freak out. I’m a little ball of anxiety, in case you can’t tell.

I want to talk a little more about the music scene generally, what are you most excited about in Boise?

I’m a big proponent of Duck Club. I like to think I’m pals with Eric Gilbert and that whole crew. Their recent moves this past year, of Treefort Music Hall, now the El Korah building, that’s very exciting. Those are all-ages spots, we’re running out of those. Those are well-built, professional spaces, and I’ve been seeing this huge influx of indie/DIY gigs being booked there now. So, not only are these incredible facilities, but now they’re being made available to the smaller art scene in Boise. They’re balancing the big touring stuff with Boise locals. I really like that. That makes me excited and it’s something I’ll miss seeing when I move.

But also, I’ve been seeing a lot more alternative bands that are more my flavor. There are certain little camps, you know, you’ve got the hardcore/metalcore kids. You’ve got the Modest Mouse/Built to Spill-esque types. I’m starting to see a lot more folks in my realm that would be more 2010s alternative, maybe a bit more pop oriented. I’m very excited for that. Bands like Amoeba Arena, I think kick ass. Ghost Beach is spectacular. Those are some new bands that I think are absolutely phenomenal. Maybe I’m just getting old, but going to local shows just doesn’t have the same excitement and fun as it once did, but these new bands are waking me back up.

I’m also seeing stuff like The Spud. Boise Underground Media is super cool as well. Do you remember BUMP? Stuff like that is super cool, and the fact that there’s stuff to write about! Things are happening in little ol’ Boise that are worth sharing and reporting on. I also really love Treefort as well. I know they’re a little bit bourgeoisie, but the influx of eyeballs that I see on Boise is amazing. I know a lot of musicians out east who’s only experience with Boise is Treefort, and that colors their perception of it. You go from people imagining Boise as this shitty little farm town to a place with an actually sustainable art scene. I think Treefort is really important in that regard.

Do you have any advice for new bands coming up in Idaho?

Take some time and be terrible. Play living rooms. Get your sea legs because nobody pops out phenomenal. The first few shows that we played were absolutely terrible. That’s because I didn’t give myself room to be shitty. Don’t go to local shows with the expectation that you’re going to be seeing something fully formed and realized. Find the friendships locally, because that’s the stuff that keeps you coming back. God knows, a lot of our music sucks out here but it’s the people who really make it wonderful. When you see your friends grow, you have an emotional stake in it and that just makes the whole thing a lot more sticky- to keep you around.

Don’t go all in on social media. I see a handful of bands now that are really pushing Instagram and TikTok and “how many likes and followers can we get,” where they spend more time focusing on posting instead of making good shit to post about. What you see, the best way to tell if a band is mis-allocating their attentions is if they have 10,000 followers on Instagram but 200 listeners on Spotify. That’s how you know your band sucks and you need to work on something, desperately.

Another thing to keep in mind is to not use your parents money. Even if it’s available to you. The thing is, if you are funding your own project, you have a lot more drive to see that it follows through. If you sign to a record label, that’s money that you’ve earned. You have people counting on you who want a return. Mom and Dad just want to see you have fun. Fun is not productive. Which is oftentimes where you see these shitheads with rich parents who just have cool setups, for sure, really fancy guitar amps, but they mis-allocate funds and let things flop.

Don’t talk shit. At all. Speak well about people behind their back, because shit does get around. It’s Boise, we’re small, we all know each other. You are better off speaking well about people behind their back, and if you have a personal problem with someone, you need to reach out to them directly and speak the them. You see a lot of rifts, you see a lot of dumb drama, especially among these gangs of high school kids who cancel each other over letting their cats fight, or something like that. I’ve actually seen that. Cool it. Be kind to each other, be chill. Be homies.

One more thing, watch your own shit. There’s this heightened sense of accountability that we’re seeing, like that cat example. There’s also some serious stuff too. Serious misconduct where you see people being real shitheads. Things are changing very quickly for a lot of folks who have some rough habits, and it’s going to bite them in the ass. Spend some time and really think about how you treat people. You could have a kickass album, but if you’re awful to work with, no one’s going to want to work with you. If you have a bad rep, folks know that you grope people, or you drug children, you’re not going to get gigs. Period. That would be the advice that I would give, having watched how some people crash and burn. I’ve kept my nose pretty clean, thankfully.

Record touchy conversations. If someone is being kicked out of the band, if there is some weird allegation going on, the state of Idaho has a one-party consent rule. That has saved my butt a few times. There are bad actors, and obviously, you want to cover yourself. Stick up for yourself, too. I had somebody post on a page that the drummer of Raccoon Tour has a thing for kids. There was conflict, like do you ignore it? You step in. You own your shit. You say, “hey, our last drummer was a shithead, we booted him out within 12 hours of learning what he did. That motherfucker’s gone, we have no love for him, and maybe that’s where you’re getting your information. The new guy that we have kicks absolute ass. My favorite thing of all: he doesn’t like to date kids.” And that went away really quick. Don’t do a whole song and dance, just call shit out. Stick up for yourself if you are truly in the right.