On ‘If You See Me Riding By,’ the Chatham Rabbits Consider Life and Friendship through a Pandemic Lens

It was 98 degrees in downtown Durham the day Sarah and Austin McCombie performed at the funeral of a man they had never met.

What led them here is a testament to the duo, broadly known as Chatham Rabbits, and their abiding efforts to connect through music. What most would call a “stranger” Sarah and Austin consider “a friend I’ve never met.” The success of this married couple’s musical pursuits hinges on this kindredship.

Looking around at the gathering, they found only one familiar face: Miss Becky, the grieving wife whom they had met just a few weeks before, at a pandemic-friendly performance in her neighborhood. It was one of several stops on Chatham Rabbits’ “Stay at Home Tour” that brought live music from a safe distance to the Triangle and beyond—a creative solution to a dismal situation.

Miss Becky, in turn, had never heard of Chatham Rabbits before the pair pulled up her street on a trailer turned stage, hitched behind their sprinter van ‌they could no longer use to tour their sophomore album The Yoke Is Easy, The Burden Is Full, which was released in May 2020. So, the McCombies were surprised when she emailed them a few weeks later to request that they perform at the funeral of her husband, Henry Wood.

“In normal times, we wouldn’t have had the time to do something like this,” Austin says. “And we were really honored to do it.”   

In the planning process, Miss Becky described her vision for the service as “beautiful, Southern, and all about Jesus.”

And that it was.

“It was like something out of a movie,” Austin continues.

Despite the blistering heat, attendees gathered around the American flag-draped casket and honored Wood and his hard-fought battle with lung cancer.

Beneath the ancient oaks of the historic Duke Cemetery, the duo leaned into their bluegrass roots, paying their respects with a traditional take on the hymn “I’ll Fly Away.”

“By the end of the service, we were both super emotional; we felt like we knew this man,” Austin says. “It made us think what it would be like to be flies on the wall at our own funerals. If we heard what people had to say about us, maybe we would focus less on the little things that bog us down and more on what Sarah says are those ‘eulogy moments’—who we are as people. The essence of who someone is can be described so quickly.”

Their song “Flies at Our Funeral” is the product of a friendship that formed in the face of suboptimal circumstances. Drawing on intimate moments like these, Chatham Rabbits crafted their third album, If You See Me Riding By. Due June 3, the record is a bold step forward for the Americana duo who, in 2018, opted out of their more conventional roles as a teacher and financial adviser to pursue the path less followed as full-time musicians.

Threaded through all three of their albums is a recurring theme of friendship found along the way.

“You Never Told Me I Was Pretty” is told through the endearing lens of a fan’s five-year-old granddaughter, Eleanor. This track—their first song added to Spotify curated playlists (“Indie Bluegrass” and “Grassroots”)—was commissioned as a gift for the fan’s husband to honor his relationship with their grandchild.

“She said that he never tells Eleanor that she’s pretty or cute or anything about her physical appearance, but he focuses on how she can do anything she sets her mind to,” Austin says.

At its core, If You See Me Riding By is a pandemic album. Not in the sense of slapping a label onto a COVID-19 project but because the album blossomed from the depths of uncertainty, with an emphasis on how people live and connect in isolation.

“It’s a compilation of experiences we had during a time we could pick our heads up and look around and connect with people we haven’t had time to because we were all in this predicament together,” Austin says.

“If You See Me Riding By” transports the two back to what they jokingly referred to as the “honeymoon phase” of the pandemic. Until then, the song was just a melody and the first two verses.

“It’s centered around the notion of not taking whoever you’re close with for granted, and learning to be a person who can be more humble in this situation,” Sarah says.

The title track is what they consider a “true co-write”—a deviation from their previous process.

Their 2020 album is an artistic union of two sets of separately penned songs. But their new practice is even more personal, revealing their individual personalities more so than writing on their own. This tag-team approach is reflective of their day-to-day life as a married couple: Austin is a self-admitted high-level idea guy, and Sarah brings the concepts back down to earth.

“Austin’s ability to look at the big picture is awesome, but then he gets super overwhelmed by tedious details,” she says. “And I’m the opposite. I love a to-do list, then get freaked out by high-level plans. That definitely falls into our songwriting; it’s apparent all over the album.”

“Kill the Snake” considers the cost of wishing time away with a retrospective romanticization of aspects of pandemic life. Like many, it took shape with an Austin melody, and again Sarah swept in to tie loose ends with tangible lyrics that bring the message to life, like “Eatin’ supper on the floor / Our height marked on the door.”

The Chatham Rabbits’ musical approach honors old-time music through modern interpretation. Maintaining elements of age-old instrumentation without rigid sonic boundaries expands their audience, further sanctifying the tradition.

To build out the album’s expansive sound, the pair turned to the producer Saman Khoujinian, a friend and previous collaborator. Together, they worked to relinquish the tight grips of what could have defined their artistry.

Austin describes Khoujinian as a “scientist” and “total standout,” adding, “We came to him saying, ‘We want your fingerprints all over this album.’”

The album took shape with an intimate pod that included Khoujinian and bassist Alex Bingham at the quaint Bedtown studios. A few months later, when deemed safe to gather, they brought their full band to Sylvan Esso’s Chapel Hill studio, Betty’s, to infuse the project with its full sonic potential.

“I feel really proud of my effort to surrender to what we wanted to make with this record and to not feel beholden to ways that people think we should sound,” Sarah says. “I love that imagery of just letting go and creating the art we wanted to, and letting the mess of the pandemic sort itself out on the record.”

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