Majors Junction twangy but not country

It all started in the middle of nowhere. Three buddies - including Mike Mulcahy, a budding writer and lyricist from St. Charles - found themselves on a months-long, cross-country road trip thanks to a radio gig they landed in Chicago. They'd been driving for weeks, calling in their travels to the station and exploring the countryside, when on one lonely night in the middle of the Nevada desert, they spotted a beacon alongside a stretch of abandoned road: "a neon beer sign in the distance, no town for 30 miles in either direction," Mulcahy says.

Sorely in need of a drink and a break from the road, the friends took a chance and pulled their van up to the front door. It was indeed a bar, run by a couple of guys who lived there as well. After a few introductions, the owners invited Mulcahy and his friends to bunk there for the night. They accepted and spent the evening telling stories and playing old country songs on the jukebox. It's still one of the friendliest, most hospitable places Mulcahy has visited.

Driving away the next morning, Mulcahy knew he wanted to memorialize the place via the Americana/country project he'd been working on - and he did. More than five years later, Mulcahy doesn't know if the Majors Junction bar is still open or if the owners even stuck around, but Majors Junction the band is in its fifth year and still prides itself on the friendly country karma that inspired the name in the first place.

"This is something that I'm going to do forever," he says.

Majors Junction started out as an alt.country writing project between friends, including drummer Colin Williams, who's stuck with the band as one of its core members. Eventually Mulcahy's wife, Heather O'Brien, was cast as the harmonizing yin to her husband's decidedly Johnny Cash-charismatic voice. Since then, they sprouted into Chicago's indie scene in 2003 with their debut, "A Desert Oasis," and continued their buzz-worthy track record last April when they released "Confluence," a warm, twang-induced love letter to the kind of dusty contemporary country-rock that's making Cash tunes popular again in the indie market.

Being pigeonholed among the poppy Carrie Underwood set remains a background struggle for Majors Junction, but the band's bluesy, grassy tunes immediately make clear that anyone who "hates" country yet loves "Ring of Fire" should rest assured that this is their type of music. "Confluence" sets the tone for the kind of campfire rock that Majors Junction does the best. And the fact that Mulcahy and O'Brien front the whole thing - well, let's just say, newbies should expect to be considered part of the family by the time they leave their first show.

"There's always a special guest," Mulcahy says of their concerts and recordings. "You never know who will pop up on stage."

Lately, the most frequent onstage cameo is being made by 8-month-old Finn Mulcahy, the couple's first child. Dad says he and O'Brien don't plan to slow the band's progress as they have kids, and to prove it, Finn received his own sound-canceling baby headphones and a special spot on stage, where he's been known to "really get into" the music.

Meshing family and music is nothing new for this husband-wife duo, though, who grew up surrounded by both. O'Brien calls her experiences with rock music as a kid in St. Charles as "kitchen singing." When her dad got home from work, he grabbed his guitar and O'Brien and her nine siblings gathered around - usually in the kitchen - to sing along. About half of her siblings are musicians, and even her dad formed his own rock act with a couple of his brothers. It's standard issue that someone from the family jumps onstage for a few minutes.

For Mulcahy's part, his childhood was immersed in classical music (from his mom) and old country (thanks to his dad). He fell in love with both, and as an English major graduate of the University of Iowa, Mulcahy transformed himself into a lyricist and has explored topics ranging from countrified love tales to politics and pop culture, Starbucks and stem cells.

"I'm a history and political buff, so I watch a lot of Discovery Channel, a lot of History Channel, so I pull a lot of themes from there," he says.

Of course, one thing never changes: the smooth, well-seasoned folk underbelly that's provided by their band of rotating musicians. During the past five years, Mulcahy suspects Majors Junction has gone through about six lead guitarists and four or five bassists, many of whom return now and again.

"I've been lucky enough to hook up with some of the best country musicians in town," he says.

As of late, Majors Junction has tested their chops at the House of Blues, Chicago's Hideout and even at the Sundance Saloon, where the group raised $25,000 for the Saving Tiny Hearts Society, which benefits kids with congenital heart disease. In November, the band is producing its own fundraiser for the society at the Congress Theatre. The all-day Chicago Blues and Bluegrass Festival will feature bands such as the Avett Brothers, Ha Ha Tonka and David Grisman, the famed bluegrass mandolinist.

They hope to have their third album released by then, produced via their label, North of Nashville Records.

"I've got to keep moving forward," he says. "Heather and I will do this forever, and Colin will, too."