“One of Cincinnati’s musical treasures, The Hiders, returns this week with another spectacular album, Totem.Despite the winter scene depicted on the cover and the fact that it was recorded last winter in a cabin in Kentucky’s Red River Gorge, Totem is an album of incredible warmth, something that should transfer well to the LP’s vinyl release. The music is more like the warming fire that draws everyone close in the midst of a deep freeze, thanks both to the songwriting and unfussy production. Frontman/songwriter/singer/guitarist Billy Alletzhauser’s songs are brought to life on the album by the excellent current edition of The Hiders, which now features fellow original member Beth Harris on harmony vocals and percussion, keyboardist Kevin Carlisle, bassist Glen May and drummer Brian Moeller. The Hiders’ sound is a unique brand of rootsy Rock that’s sometimes spacious and ethereal and sometimes relatively straightforward, but almost always transcendent. There is a soulfulness to songs like the creeping “First Real Blues” and the beautiful “Live at the Long Goodbye” that is hard to describe, but that’s part of The Hiders’ magic. Though all are superbly talented musicians, the album works more due to the feel and emotive qualities than any sort of instrumental virtuosity. There is a vibe that just works and sticks with you like a haunting memory after just one listen. When Harris and Alletzhauser’s voices meld together on choruses, for example, they often cause goosebumps. That’s something that has nothing to do with the order of the notes or any sort of musical theory. It’s just great songwriting with equally great, emotive performances.Totem is a start-to-finish gem (the band will perform the album in order at the release show) that deserves to be experienced as a whole, but certain tracks stand out.“Motherlode” is one of The Hiders’ all-time best songs, a slow-building, psychedelic drone with ominous guitar riffs, some inspired soloing, eerie melodies and a spectacular, serpentine chorus that winds its way into the listener’s consciousness. Elsewhere, “Loaded as a Gun” is a wonderful slice of Hider-ized classic Country; closing track “For the Sun” is a gauzy ballad laced with guest Sylvia Mitchell’s elegant strings; and “She Brings the Fall” is a hazy, dreamlike beauty that adds Middle Eastern-like percussion and melodica to the band’s traditional instrumentation. ” - M.Breen

“The Hiders’ Tremendous ‘Temenos’ Consistently excellent Cincinnati Rock band The Hiders celebrate the release of their latest full-length, Temenos, this Saturday at Hoffner Lodge (4120 Hamilton Ave., Northside). The album release performance kicks off at 10 p.m. The band will play the new album from start to finish, followed by a set of older material. Admission is $5; $10 if you want a CD (which you should). The event is also BYOB. Since 2006’s Valentine, The Hiders have received acclaim outside of the city for their work, but it’s been hardly the attention they deserve. Temenos could be the one to right that injustice. It’s a natural progression from 2010’s stellar Four Letter Town— not a jarring change from singer/songwriter Billy Alletzhauser’s previous work, but a culmination of everything that works so well in his gifted hands.  There are rootsy elements to The Hiders’ sound, but labeling them “Alt Country” or “Roots Rock” never feels right. Like avowed influence Mark Linkous, Alletzhauser is one of those rare songwriters whose work transcends easy genre specification and magically takes the listener somewhere that feels familiar without resorting to retro-minded clichés. He also has a knack for working with exceptional, like-minded musicians who, especially on Temenos, take the moody, evocative qualities of his songs and create the perfect backdrop. Each song on Temenos has a hypnotic quality and is loaded with exquisite soulfulness. There are no “rockers,” per se, on the album — each song gracefully melts into the next, buoyed by the band’s distinctive, slow-burning sway. Alletzhauser’s vocals and melodies (punctuated by the fabulous harmonies of singer Beth Harris) recall Neil Young and My Morning Jacket, but, while fans of both would certainly fall in love at first listen with The Hiders, over the course of four albums, the group has found and strengthened its own unique identity. In a word, Temenos is timeless.From those haunting melodies, flowing rhythms and some stellar guitar work to the unfussy production and the arrangements’ compelling structures and ornamentations (which include Mellotron sounds, pedal steel guitar and various organ and keyboard support), someone unfamiliar could be easily convinced that the album was released in 1972.    There are some fantastic individual tracks on Temenos — the soaring “A Love in Between” (which one could imagine a Joshua Tree-era U2 covering), the folksy, glassy-eyed, romantic opener “Under Shooting Stars,” the phenomenal, spooky, Neil Youngian closer/title track — but I highly recommend absorbing the album in full. Maybe not while driving — the album’s mesmerizing songs take you to The Hiders’ enchanted world and have the capability of grabbing and holding on to your undivided attention for Temenos’ entire nearly hour-long run time.” - M.Breen

“Capturing the HidersThe Hiders' new album is a secretive, intricate place and an artistic web of sound There are ghosts, and they float within the 14 tracks of The Hiders’ Four Letter Town. Both spooky and concrete, the searching lyrics are clear and important, revealing stories of celebration and confusion, of love lost and wisdom found.A ghost in its own right, the title track is one that lead singer/guitarist Billy Alletzhauser kicked around for years before The Hiders even existed. Although he calls it a “simple song,” he recorded various versions, enveloped in a tricky, drawn-out struggle to harness and reveal the tune’s true essence. Some songs sit and smolder before they rise up to burn and glow. Some apparitions do indeed come alive.At times, the overall feel speaks of sweeping land, train tracks or the simplest row of straight trees that blend to touch. Other times, a curious, quiet night, a blue-green-gray sky or the echo of the cover of The Hiders’ first album — the black howling wolf. And then it just rocks out. Beyond the lighthearted crush, the lyrics dig into complex situations — the longterm lover by someone’s side and the rich history there, both dark and light. Sometimes a shadowy place, but it’s one you’ll want to revisit.Between extra verses, catchy guitar riffs and lyrics, keys, sweet harmonies and more, this is The Hiders’ most artistically creative and dense album to date, packed with everything from Country to ’70s Rock to vintage, piano-driven dreams. Some could be called Americana with a melancholic vibe, but fresh and historic sounds spider-crawl out; each layered song telling its own story, standing alone as a musical painting with a definite place in time.“The only thing I consciously set out to do on this one was to write a lot of lyrics,” Alletzhauser says. No three-minute rule here.Blue-eyed Alletzhauser drinks Irish coffee, describing the real wolves he encountered recently at a nearby sanctuary. Wearing a simple plaid shirt and jeans, his hair sticks up, jutting out in the back. Even when quiet, it seems as if there’s a constant internal dialogue occurring, that he’s thinking hard. Or maybe he’d rather be playing.Upstairs from his recording studio, The Batcave, he sits at the dining-room table and there is a strange secretive vibe, as if it’s not a home, but rather a captured hideout with many bizarre collectibles — a pine cone, an enormous painting by artist Victor Strunk, ancient Punk magazines and a random skull. (Deer skull. There’s a full skull chart on the wall). Dr. Phil, the cat, sneaks into the room to check things out.The Hiders’ current central core includes Alletzhauser, Beth Harris (vocals), Kevin Carlisle (keys) and Glen May (bass), although many others contribute. Always adding talent, The Hiders are very welcoming.“Too welcoming,” Alletzhauser says, laughing (member turnover has been fairly high over the group’s history). “Yeah, it’s been ridiculously hard. I’ve tried to keep it together. I started this band in my thirties, and that’s a whole different ballgame. But the four of us, through this record, became a good core, so we’ve just tried to bring in people as we can. If people have the desire and they’ve done some homework, we can make it sound good.”Originally, The Hiders skyrocketed out of Batcave jams, and after the 2006 debut Valentine was recorded in Nashville they gained a startling amount of attention, including being named an “Artist to Watch” on NPR's World Café. Many labels chewed on their work, leading to film score opportunities. Recently, from the 2008 Penny Harvest Field album, “Plastic Flowers” played in the 2009 filmAdam. Penny Harvest Field ventured into heavier guitars and drums, a sound influenced by a massive snowstorm, when some musicians were trapped, missing recording sessions.Alletzhauser explains, “We had to make a lot of decisions to flesh it out and we had to do it quick. That’s why it’s a little more diverse, I guess.”But on Four Letter Town, The Hiders worked from home, recording at The Batcave and Ultrasuede. The result is an intricate, blended sound “with more overdubbing and experimenting” that gels with the first album’s longing, melodic songs as well as the Rock punch of the second.“It’s kind of the first two smashed together,” Alletzhauser says, grinning.Four Letter Town is bigger in scope and harder to grasp on first listen compared to the other releases. As shown in “Hesitation Wounds,” Alletzhauser explains the theme of the album’s songs as “more about conditions. They all seem to have a sense of place, an enforced condition and trying to survive in that condition … there’s a lot of luck involved in your life, where you’re born and when. Some people escape and some people don’t. And it’s hard. It’s not easy. I just think some people don’t get a fair shake.”When times get tough, Alletzhauser says the band inspires him.“I don’t know what normal people do with their friends,” he says. “We get together and record or practice or play shows. I don’t have any other hobbies. It’s not like I’m going to start building wicker chairs.”Alletzhauser shifts uncomfortably when discussing labels and showcases.“Even when I was young, I didn’t like people looking at me,” he says. “I still don’t. I like making cool music, and performing is something you’ve gotta do.”Laughing at the irony that he’s become a frontman, he says, “I think sometimes you try harder when it’s against your nature.”To him, the real joy is buried within the music itself. Recently, someone drove through the badlands while listening to Four Letter Town and that, to Alletzhauser, equals success. Rather than one-hit wonders, he wants to create lasting, quality music, drawing devoted listeners.As for the rest, timing and luck. Although he makes the contacts and people are finding TV and film homes for the band’s songs, Alletzhauser says, “I’m still surprised by the music sometimes. There’s still something gnawing at me to make it better.”” - C.A. MacConnel

“Music: Hiders SeekThe Hiders do things their own way again with Penny Harvest FieldBY Brian Baker Billy Alletzhauser displays a quietly cautious manner when answering questions. It might be a natural byproduct of his experience in the Ass Ponys, when the Cincinnati quartet became a hot industry prospect only to be dropped by A&M after two albums.Alletzhauser finds lightning striking twice as his new Americana aggregation, The Hiders, bears the enviable -- or perhaps unenviable -- tag of "the hottest unsigned band in America." And while Alletzhauser has entertained label queries, notably from Bloodshot and Rounder, he's been through this process before and is a little wiser about the label situation these days.They want you to have done all the work," Alletzhauser says from the Batcave, his studio/rehearsal space in the basement of his Clifton home. "Plus there's not really a leader out there. They kind of need someone telling them, 'Yes, this is awesome, this is worth it.' Some people get lucky and get their band together and somebody's got a van and they play a bunch of shows and they get a song on a soundtrack, and then it's OK for people to go, 'Now we can check out this.' And then they take all the credit once they do."With The Hiders' excellent sophomore album, Penny Harvest Field, about to be self-released, Alletzhauser is confident in proceeding along the independent path he's been forging since the band unofficially came together nearly eight years ago as an acoustic outlet for Alletzhauser, Plow On Boy's Niki Buehrig and journeyman Dave Gilligan. The Hiders' 2006 self-released debut, Valentine, was a marvel, produced by Nashville veteran Brad Jones and championed by former WNKU and now WXPN Program Director Dan Reed, who passed the disc to World Cafe host David Dye, who in turn was captivated enough to add several tracks from the album into the syndicated public radio program playlist.I went into it with a pallet in mind," Alletzhauser says of Valentine. "I wanted to make a smooth, clean sort of Country/Rock album. Stuff I had in mind was like Willie Nelson's Stardust and Neil Young's Harvest, that was the sound I was picturing. It turned out, well, a little better than I intended."Since Valentine, The Hiders' lineup shuffled slightly with the departure of drummer Todd Drake nearly two years ago and bassist Victor Strunk last year. Since then, local drumming powerhouse Tony Franklin joined Alletzhauser -- they had been together in the late '80s with Grinch -- as has former Afghan Whigs drummer Michael Horrigan, who almost immediately filled the bass slot after returning to Cincinnati from a stint in Detroit. (Beth Harris provides harmony vocals.)We'd been in correspondence for the past few years," Horrigan says.We were just waiting for the opportunity to get something going together," Alletzhauser says. "It was like the same day. I had talked to Michael and he was thinking about coming back and Victor had called that same day and said, 'I don't think I can do it anymore.' "For Penny Harvest Field, Alletzhauser says he contemplated using other producers but ultimately chose to return to Nashville for another go-round with Brad Jones (with some local help from Ultrasuede's John Curley on a couple of tracks).Every time I thought I had something else set up, it would come back to Brad, for a couple of reasons," Alletzhauser says. "People were way more excited than I thought they'd be (about Valentine). That made me a little nervous about this one. So I felt like if I went to Brad, I knew what I was getting into and we'd be on the same playing field, at least."For both albums, The Hiders came into the recording sessions with close to 30 songs demoed for Jones to hear. The first time his schedule was open enough to consider all the options. But this time his schedule was so tight that the band needed to be a little more prepared when it came to the final track list.I think we decided at least the top 13 songs before we went down there," Franklin says. "We weren't on Hiders time ... Play a tune, let's have a drink. Brad's 'Go' button is unbelievable."Although Valentine earned an impressive response, Alletzhauser was not particularly concerned about how he would approach The Hiders' second set. He was content to let the album's material develop organically as the band evolved.In the process of playing with these guys -- and nothing against Todd and Victor -- music is what they do," Alletzhauser says of Franklin and Horrigan. "Music is what they do, and everything else comes second. When we started playing together, it really started to feel a little more passionate and we started feeling more cohesive as a band. Valentine sounds nice and clean but it sounds a little safe and easy compared to other things. I think we just started to sound like a Rock band so I wanted that to come out. I knew I wanted it to be a little more aggressive and a little more intense."With the addition of Franklin and Horrigan, Alletzhauser found his songwriting taking on a slightly different bent, which gives Penny Harvest Field a discernably different presence than its predecessor.I tried to not write a batch of songs where I didn't edit myself too much," Alletzhauser says. "A lot of times I'll write a song and I'll think, 'This isn't me,' and I'll toss it because I worry that it's too this or too that. This time I tried to not do that to myself."©” - Brian Baker

“Hiding and Seeking Bill Alletzhauser, the musician at the heart of The Hiders, still hasn’t found what he’s looking for. By Brent Donaldson     “I said, ‘Here’s a knife. Glad to help.’ ” Bill Alletzhauser, five-foot-eight, 36 years old, with shaggy brown hair and hangdog eyes, a slight slouch, and a love for plaid, just made a joke. We’re sitting amid a few scattered instruments and amplifiers in his cold, dark, basement-cum-practice studio, which is gift-wrapped from floor to ceiling in crushed velvet and Christmas lights.      One night, The Hiders—Alletzhauser’s tight, slow-burn Americana rock band with male-female vocal leads and soft steel guitar swells—had just finished playing a set at Northside Tavern, when a young woman approached him. “I’d never seen her before,” he recalls, “but she came up to me and said, ‘You guys make me want to kill myself in the best way.’ ” While Alletzhauser didn’t really proffer a knife, he might have, just to be funny. “Just kidding,” he says, laughing at his joke. “I know what she meant.” What she meant, perhaps, was that The Hiders’ songs can grip you like a tractor beam and draw you into the saddest moments of your life.       When the band’s steadfast rhythms and anodyne harmonies hit your ears—imagine _Zuma-era Neil Young backed up by a budding Neko Case—suddenly, you’re thinking about your mother crying, or a young and innocent you being abandoned. It feels theatrical and epic, like somewhere, across the universe or across the room, a camera is slowly focusing in on the alienated, teenage feeling behind your eyes. This isn’t to say that listening to The Hiders’ outstanding 2006 album, _Valentine, or hearing the band perform live isn’t fun. Each member of The Hiders is a hyper-talented music veteran (average age: 37) with half-a-lifetime’s experience performing. When their debut album was released last March, critical acclaim launched the band to within inches of a recording contract.       To make _Valentine, Alletzhauser spent thousands of dollars on a highly regarded Nashville sound engineer/producer named Brad Jones, whom he had worked with during his eight years playing lead guitar for the Ass Ponys. In little more than a week, Jones and The Hiders produced an eerily beautiful album with superlative performances and a ready-for-radio production value. Alletzhauser sent the record to Hamilton native and former WNKU music director Dan Reed, now music director and operations manager for WXPN in Philadelphia. “I took it to everybody at XPN,” Reed says, “and everybody at the station—David Dye and everybody—came back as fans.” By any measure, David Dye, host of WXPN’s _World Café, an NPR-syndicated music show with 500,000 listeners on 176 stations around the country (and Guam), is a good fan to have. Dye placed four songs from _Valentine into World Café’s rotation. WXPN also put the songs into its regular rotation, then spotlighted the band as the “artist to watch” for the month of June, and twice invited them to perform at XPN-related festivals in Philly. The Hiders used one of those shows to kick off an East Coast tour. With the sudden prestige, it wasn’t surprising that independent record labels, including Bloodshot Records in Chicago and Rounder Records in Boston, started sniffing at the band’s heels. Indeed, when it came to attracting interest from record labels that could fund and promote The Hiders’ music, the band had done everything right. But sitting in Alletzhauser’s basement nearly a year later, there are a few big questions floating in the air that have yet to find a sufficient answer. Like, why are The Hiders still without a contract? And, if you insist on forging a career from your own music, as Alletzhauser has, what more do you have to do to succeed? And really, what the hell does that mean?       If you want to break up a rock band, lavish attention and credit only upon one member, and pit ego against ego until the band splinters. Knowing this can happen, it should be said that while Bill Alletzhauser writes The Hiders’ songs, the band does not begin and end with him. The rest of the group is made up of all-stars of the local scene who breathe life to Alletzhauser’s sparse arrangements. The 40-year-old pedal-steel and guitar player Toby Ellis, who made a name for himself in bands like Borgia Popes and Plow on Boy, has been a guitar instructor for 15 years. Singer Beth Harris, 35, a Baptist preacher’s daughter from Little Rock, Arkansas, once turned down a university scholarship for vocal music. Bassist Victor Strunk, 34, who also plays with Alletzhauser in the dream-rock band Ruby Vileos, among other projects, seems to appear on a different stage every night. And Tony Franklin, 41, is one of the most talented and sought-after jazz, rock, and blues drummers in Cincinnati. All four of these musicians bring something unique to the band.       But you can’t fully appreciate the dark, dramatic arc of The Hiders’ music without understanding Alletzhauser, the grown-up version of a lonely, latch-key kid whose penchant for getting into fights and skipping school knew no bounds Alletzhauser grew up in a modest house on Werk Road in Western Hills with his mother, father, and an older sister. When he was 5, a neighbor named Chuey sold Bill’s mother an electric guitar for $15, which she gave to the young master. Two years later, when mom and dad divorced, dad moved to Nashville to deal in antiques—the latest in a string of incongruous vocations that included insurance claims investigator and motorcycle racing. Bill stayed in Cincinnati with mom, an HR professional and country music fan who listened to Kris Kristofferson and Johnny Cash and Willie Nelson. “That’s probably when I first got into the depressing stuff,” he says. “The whole ‘Why me, Lord? What did I ever do to deserve this?’ ” Like many children of the divorce-riddled ’70s, Bill split his time between parents: summer in Nashville, school in Cincinnati; school in Nashville, summer with mom. But for all the tag-team parenting, custody battles were conspicuously absent. “My parents, were more like, ‘Who wants him? Will you take him this time?’ ” Alletzhauser says. “My dad’s pretty vocal about hating people. [He would say] ‘You’re staying here. Your mom doesn’t want you this year.’ ” Armed with that kind of encouragement, it was hardly surprising that Alletzhauser, a self-proclaimed “original hater,” grew steadily and predictably into a juvenile delinquent. “I got into a lot of fights,” he says, “because I dressed weird and I was pretty much of a punk. I’d go up to the most popular kid and kick him in the ass, just to see what he’d do.” He shrugs now, but after being expelled from Walnut Hills High School in ninth grade he attended Withrow High School, where he went from picking fights with preppies and jocks to having a dozen mulleted Motley Crüe fans, armed with boards with nails sticking through them, chasing him. Skipping a few classes turned into skipping a few weeks. “But because I was this normal-looking white kid,” he says, “I could go back and say, ‘Oh, I was in the hospital having surgery,’ and they’d believe me.” Eventually, after such shenanigans got him expelled from Withrow, he managed to talk his way into the School for Creative and Performing Arts, where he eventually…well, you know. “They kicked me out because I missed, like, 68 days in a row,” he says. Old habits die hard.       We’re back in Alletzhauser’s basement on an icy February afternoon, and while the red wine helps, it’s still damn cold down here. Apparently the basement’s lone space heater—and not the bevy of amps, speaker cabinets, computer equipment, and stereos—blows a fuse whenever it’s turned on. Whether he’s writing and recording songs, packaging promotional material with copies of _Valentine for radio stations or record labels, booking shows, or checking record sales on CDBaby.com and comments on his suite of MySpace pages, Alletzhauser will pretty much stay down here all day. In fact, he’s down here all day almost every day. That’s because Alletzhauser is in the tiny minority of Cincinnati rock musicians in their 30s or 40s who don’t want—and more to the point, don’t _have—a regular “day job.” Alletzhauser’s commitment to making music, to following his muse and living an austere lifestyle, is firm. By all accounts, the band would be extremely lucky to earn $2,000 in a month. Divide that by five or six band members, and you’re earning far less than a part-time fry cook at Frisch’s. But Alletzhauser, who used music as a salvation from fighting and loneliness and failing grades, says he’s willing to chance it. “I remember reading a _Cincinnati Magazine article about Scotty Anderson,” he says. “He’s not a huge name in the guitar world, really; he just lives a low-key life in his own slow and steady way. You don’t _have to be some giant rock star. I think there is a way to sustain yourself—a way that can be gratifying. But it takes a long time.” Apparently, it also takes more than a great record and national media exposure, or critical acclaim and an army of fans, before record labels will do more than flirt with you. Although he’s had major-label experience with the Ass Ponys, who were signed to A&M Records in 1994, Alletzhauser quickly found out how ephemeral those deals can be. When A&M’s parent company, PolyGram, was bought out in the late ’90s, the Ass Ponys were released from their contract after recording only two albums; they went on to record their final two albums independently. “Even though it was very uncool to say so at the time, the major-label experiences were better than our indie-label experiences,” says drummer Dave Morrison, who also played with Alletzhauser in Ruby Vileos. “[A&M] had a staff that could execute what needed to be done. The indie labels were very nice and incredibly complimentary, but at the end of the day, they were woefully inadequate compared to what a large company was able to do when they put their mind to it.” It’s now Alletzhauser’s job to do those things—to act as The Hiders’ promoter, distributor, and PR rep, not to mention songwriter and lyricist. Because, despite the stellar reviews of _Valentine, or the _World Café exposure, or their 1,088 MySpace friends, the band is still on its own. “I think that the record is fabulous,” says Nan Warshaw, the cofounder of Bloodshot Records. “I think Billy’s songwriting is incredible. The performances are great, and within the noncommercial AAA [Adult Album Alternative radio] and Americana world, they probably have the biggest buzz going of any unsigned band out there. [But] there’s more to [getting signed] than just being good or even somewhat original. Even if there’s a band that’s as good as someone on our roster, we don’t need another band that fills that niche. Also, if it’s a singer-songwriter—one name and a bunch of hired players—that adds a lot of expense, because he or she is paying people out whether the band makes any money or not.” Translation: nothing personal, it’s just business. “Some [labels] came on pretty strong, but nobody’s made any kind of offer,” Alletzhauser says. “They’ve just poked around and made us jump through hoops, trying to decide if we’re a safe bet. If you’re in a band or doing art around here, you [have to] have your own ideas about integrity, of what you’re willing to do and what you’re not. My faith has always been in doing something honest and real. I think the reward is sweeter if you can do it like that. If what you’re doing is good enough, people will care.” By the look on his face, it’s clear that Alletzhauser would rather talk about his music.      So we listen to “Hawaiian Ice,” a somber song from _Valentine that’s based on an ex-girlfriend. The summer after high school, her plan was to move to England, marry an English guy, and stay there. “And it worked out for her,” he says. “But she had this list of things she wanted to do before she left, and one of them was to get Hawaiian ice.” The song features the kind of haunting melody that you feel as much as hear. It is also a testament to the superb craft of Alletzhauser’s songwriting, of his ability to creatively reinterpret a sentimental memory. And until someone with the capital to invest in the band actually does so, he’ll be right here, in the basement, not so much hiding as disguising harsh memories with beautiful music. “I go through phases where I’m good at getting up early and getting on the computer and making contacts and booking shows, or walking to the post office to send out records,” Alletzhauser says. “But I have no love for it, that’s for sure. I just want to sit down here and write songs all day.” It’s good work if you can get it.” - Brent Donaldson