Photograph by Brian Richwine

The Fatted Calf String Band performs at their regular Thursday night gig at the Runcible Spoon. The "old-time folk machine" has several gigs scheduled in the Bloomington area in April and May.

Not a single member of The Fatted Calf String Band is "terribly thrilled" with the demo they recorded in guitarist and fiddler Brad Baute's living room last year. And they offer little more than a noncommittal yawn when asked if and when they might record again soon. That's because The Fatted Calf String Band, not unlike all the unrecorded "old-time" bands of the pre-Library of Congress folklorist explosion of the 1920s, is an adventure better experienced live, in shoes made for kicking up dirt.

Indeed, for over a year now, with evangelical ardency, the band has been moving hippies and hip, head-nodding taste makers alike to dance to the venerable tunes of their great grandmothers' songbooks. From Southern Appalachian fiddle-driven jaunts to a Lotus Dickey tune that was once a square dance staple in the hills of southern Indiana, the band has honed an expansive repertoire of old-time songs to airtight perfection.

Looking like John Boy Walton's hipster cousin from the city, Baute says the band started when he got together with fellow punk-turned traditional fiddler and guitarist Joel Lensch and porch-playing banjoist Chris Mattingly in late 2006. Bloomington's recently deceased beloved multi-instrumentalist Evan Farrell played upright bass for the outfit briefly before Alex Mann took over in January of 2007.

The band landed a regular Thursday night gig at The Runcible Spoon and played area bars and private parties before really taking off in June of that year when they hosted the first of several old-fashioned square dances.

"They started haphazardly," Baute recalls. "A friend of Joel's from when he lived in Portland was in town and he suggested we have a dance. Some other friends of mine in an Asheville, North Carolina, band called Woody Pines also played and it was great."

In that setting, Baute and crew realized most fully their kinetic, back-to-the basics, less-is-more brand of musical mirth, bringing disparate subsets of Bloomington's underground together in a most intimate way.

"It's a simple, infectious kind of music we play," says Baute. "Since it's fairly simple, free of complex melodies and time signature changes, we're able to put a good bit of energy into it."

"Because of that," Lensch adds, "anyone can get into this kind of music. It's very unifying in that sense."

Mattingly, whose grandfather played banjo and mandolin, says the democratic nature of this style of music is what captivated him when on a family vacation in North Carolina he found himself at a down home shindig a few years ago "I was really drawn to the community aspect of it, even the communal nature of the passing of the instruments between musicians, all that made an impression on me."

Mann, who comes from a family with classical music leanings, and who himself is in three other bands, concurs. "That sense of community at live shows is what we all draw from. That's when we're best"

Do the 20-and 30-somethings, all with Indie creds and decidedly more urbane than agrarian lifestyles, fret much about the inevitable questions of authenticity and cooptation when it comes to playing a musical form so steeped in tradition and hardship? Is it possible for musicians of the Fraggle Rock and pop tart generation to play this music without bleaching it of its gritty tones?

Baute admits, "The notion itself of the 'folk experience' is pretty much nonexistent because few people actually live off the land anymore. But that doesn't mean you can't capture the essence of that experience in your music. I may never have a cabin in the mountains, but it still evokes a certain feeling when I play a song about having a cabin in the mountains."

That sense of breaking out of one's own experience is not unique to traditional music, Lensch adds. "All great music is about escape, losing yourself for a little while."

"The real question about authenticity," Mann asserts, "is that we keep in mind why we're making this kind of music. As long as the reasons are pure and about preserving that sense of community, that's the important thing."

And besides all that, Mattingly says, "Everyone who plays traditional music has their own interpretation, which raises the question about what is 'authentic' in the first place."

A tad ethnographical or not, The Fatted Calf String Band does not plan on slowing down its old-time folk machine anytime soon, with several shows slated in and around Bloomington for the months of April and May, as well as the regular Runcible Spoon Thursday night slot.

Their tightly crafted and earnestly delivered presentations of early Americana make for possibly the most perfect Saturday night or Sunday morning in town right now.

The band also has its sights set on gigging out of Bloomington more, both in Indiana and beyond. Aside from the high of playing for out of town audiences, Baute adds, "A little money would be nice. Gas is very expensive right now."

Lori Canada can be reached at locanada30@yahoo.com.

For a complete and up to date listing of all upcoming Fatted Calf String Band shows, as well as several free downloads of their music, please visit the band's MySpace Page.