Whatever about ignoring publicity as musicians, the brothers certainly walk the walk when it comes to daily life. Living on a compound in the countryside outside Olympia, Washington, the two Weavers and their wives live a simple life-style, farming and building when not making music. “We’re trying as best as possible to live in the 19th century I suppose,” says Weaver, with qualifications. “Maybe a 19th century with a DSL connection and a power hook-up and a flushing toilet and those modern amenities that are hard to let go of. It’s just your average sort of quiet, small town, rural lifestyle. At the same time we always have a need to have an artistic outlet. I think that maybe we look at things through more of a spiritual lens or an occult lens than most people do. It’s not like we’re just your average rednecks in the woods, we’re definitely coming at things from a black metal hippy, visionary perspective.”
This way of living, attempting to be more in tune with the natural world than is common today, provides a distinct set of influences and artistic preoccupations that has driven the band’s output to date. Aspects of every-day life are intertwined indefinitely with the rush of sound that constitutes a Wolves song and Weaver is deeply aware of the effect that his surroundings have on them. “It’s purely geography really,” he says. “For me, everything comes from geography. It’s all about the landscape that sustains our life and influences our consciousness and influences the choices we make and out mind-set. Our music has always been about connecting in a deep way with the pacific north-west, on a spiritual level, trying to understanding the occult aspects of the forests and mountains of the north-west. We try to live a life that integrates those metaphysical realities into every day existence. We try to do that in the band as well. If you’re living out in the countryside, the music you make is going to sound like the countryside. We do that in a very conscious way, it’s something that’s always on our mind and I’m always thinking about how we can convey the spirit of the countryside or the spirit of the woods in the music.”
Celestial Lineage is the concluding part of a trio of albums, started with 2007’s game-changing Two Hunters and continued with the release of Black Cascade in 2009. Both records are wildly different in execution, though the tone remains similar and Celestial Lineage feels like an amalgamation of the two. The conclusion of this triptych has led to talk of Celestial Lineage being the last Wolves record. Weaver sounds non-committal on the subject. “We’re always going to do music and Wolves In The Throne Room will of course continue, but it’s just going to be different,” he says. “We’re looking at this as a time of really intense transformation for us as people and moving onto a really different mindset, a different place in our lives. Nathan just turned 32 a few days ago and I’m 34 so we really have different aspirations than we did ten years ago. So it’s necessary for us to take this time to reassess what we want to do in the future with Wolves In The Throne Room and the other things we have in our lives. There will definitely be more things coming from us but it’s going to be different.”
He briefly mentions plans for a new record, which might even appear as early as next year. “I don’t know when we’ll get to it, we might even start tracking some material this winter if we have enough time at home.”
“Time at home” is an important factor. The nature of farm work allows certain freedoms compared to more typical jobs, but also implies personal responsibilities and seasonal strictures not likely to concern your average office worker. Weaver is certain of his path though and confident the choices he’s made. “We work every day. I don’t think either of us have had a day off in years, in terms of just sitting around drinking coffee and reading the newspaper. But it’s very different when you have a job working for the man you know? Punching a clock at a job for a boss or working in an office, I’ve never had that kind of job and I probably never will. I really have appreciated the past couple of years, where we’ve been able to focus so strongly on just making music. We’ve been touring so much that we’re able to make enough money to scrape by when we’re not on tour. We could focus almost entirely on music and that’s been a really good thing for us.”
While the free time allowed the brother to put more effort than ever into the monumental Celestial Lineage, the way things were had its own appeal also. “In the past, when we recorded Diadem of the Twelve Stars and Two Hunters, I’d be working on building houses during the day, or working on my house or a barn or something like this, then I’d come inside at night and work on music. That’s a really good thing, to have to struggle like that.”
One of the side-effects of full time musicianship we touch upon is the need for the music to be financially successful or viable. There is a need, once you make that choice, to make music that will pay for itself. The complications implicit in that, especially for a band as wilfully obtuse and disconnected as Wolves In The Throne Room, do play upon Weaver’s thoughts. “Yeah, that’s part of the equation,” he says, practically. “You have to be able to pay the bills or your crew or pay for gas for the bus when you pull up at the gas station. I’ve got no problem with that.”
