B-Side Guys

Bars breed ghosts. Will Rainier knows this instinctively, having spent enough nights observing the way certain patrons seem to flicker between presence and absence, their stories dissolving into whiskey and returning as something else entirely. His “Dance with the Dead” transforms this observation into country-rock communion, where the living and departed share the same barstool.

Rainier’s production approach reflects his multi-band past without being enslaved by it. The track carries his indie rock sensibilities into Americana territory, creating arrangements that breathe with unexpected space. Jen Garrett’s harmony vocals float behind his lead like smoke from a barely-lit cigarette, while the pedal steel provides emotional punctuation rather than constant commentary. Each instrument serves the song’s narrative rather than competing for attention—a restraint that speaks to Rainier’s understanding of when not to play.

The lyrical imagery operates through deliberate juxtaposition of movement and stasis. “Old man shake your bones / Just like an old xylophone” transforms aging into percussion, making mortality feel rhythmic rather than final. This metaphorical framework allows Rainier to explore death without succumbing to morbid fascination—the dead aren’t tragic figures but potential dance partners, companions for those willing to acknowledge their continued presence.

Rainier’s vocal delivery embodies the “stumbling romanticism” that defines his approach. His phrasing carries the loose timing of someone telling stories after several drinks, but maintains enough precision to ensure every word lands with intended weight. The performance suggests someone comfortable with uncertainty, willing to let emotions develop organically rather than forcing predetermined conclusions.

What separates “Dance with the Dead” from typical Americana mortality meditations is Rainier’s refusal to treat death as resolution. Instead, he presents it as transition—another phase requiring different social skills but not fundamentally different from life. The invitation to “dance with the dead” becomes less supernatural suggestion than practical advice: acknowledge what’s gone, learn from it, keep moving. Sometimes wisdom arrives through whiskey and conversation with people who might not technically be there anymore.