It seems some bands are destined for stardom. Emerging from quaint Midwestern hovels, fame thrust upon them, before they ever have a chance to reflect on what’s happened to them. While others claw their way out from the obscurity of an oversaturated throw-away cultural landscape, lifted up only by the hundreds of dirty hands they might have shaken once in some skeezy rock club or DIY club on the indie circuit. The dirty handprints on Quiet Hollers’ 21-year-old van tell which story is theirs.

In 2013, the band’s debut album I Am the Morning was called a “reverb-soaked dive into the stream-of-consciousness confessionals” (No Depression) of songwriter Shadwick Wilde. It featured a drummer whose neck was literally broken-- the band refused to postpone their session at the coveted Funeral Home studio of analog guru Kevin Ratterman (My Morning Jacket, Murder By Death, Grace Potter) after a waterfall-diving accident near Bonnaroo in Tennessee.

Although the album won moderate praise in Europe, and a smattering of indie music writers included it in their “Best of 2013” lists, it flew mostly under the radar in their hometown of Louisville, KY before being picked up by the local NPR affiliate and nominated in the Roots category for best album in the inaugural Louisville Music Awards.

Having earned a cult following, booking a slew of their own tours across the eastern half of the US (and often using connections from Wilde’s days as punk rock guitarist-for-hire for the likes of Dischord Records’ Iron Cross), Quiet Hollers were able to produce and press their forthcoming sophomore effort without a label.

With a release slated for October 2015, the self-titled sophomore effort runs the proverbial gamut of the band’s eclectic influences: indie, punk, 90’s college rock, post punk and alt. country, to deliver heady, literate, hook-laden narratives, blasting through tube amps in swirls of violin and piano. Quiet Hollers confirms the band’s departure from the confines of the “Americana” label, and ventures into stranger territory where there’s room to breathe, and the road goes on forever.