Ever since I was a little kid, the topic of cryptids has fascinated me. As a young boy, I would check out literally piles of books. Some of my favorite ones were about mysterious, elusive creatures that may or may not exist, such as Bigfoot and Nessie. And it was always super easy to find these books, because in the Dewey Decimal System, most books about cryptids are shelved near where the numbers start! As I grew up, I learned of cryptids I hadn't heard of before, such as Mothman, The Dover Demon, and my personal favorite... Ohio's own Loveland Frog! Not every folklore creature is classified as a cryptid (for example, the "fearsome critters" of the tall tales lumberjacks of yesteryear used to tell), but every cryptid is a folklore creature. Whether or not they actually exist, cryptids are part of a very real and powerful cultural phenomenon. As big a fan of cryptids as I am, it almost doesn't matter to me whether or not they exist, because even if they don't people keep their vibrant legends alive with plenty of books, movies, festivals, museums, memes, and art. I now count myself among those people. I've had the privilege of visiting the places where the legends of Mothman and The Loveland Frog originated multiple times, and each time I did, I felt like the areas where these cryptids had been reportedly seen so many years ago had some kind of super mysterious, oddly alluring yet slightly ominous vibe to them. Just having heard the stories of the local cryptids and the details of how they intersected with other things that were happening in times now gone and out of reach and to a large extent obscured to those of us living in the present imbued those areas with a strange beauty. If you have the opportunity one day, drive down Loveland's Riverside Road on a clear summer night, roll down the window and listen to the sound of frogs (the little frogs!) and bugs... Visit Point Pleasant's Mothman Museum, walk along the Ohio River at sunset, go looking for the abandoned WWII-era igloo-shaped bunkers in the McClintic Wildlife Management Area (aka The TNT Area), and you might start to understand exactly what I mean. It's this sort of ineffable, deeply mysterious vibe that evokes all things that are unknown and maybe unknowable that was one of my biggest inspirations for making a cryptid-themed concept album. Also, of course, the anecdotes of the eyewitnesses themselves! Cryptids are often associated with campy fun. This is part of their appeal! What cryptid enthusiast doesn't want to touch the Mothman statue's big stainless steel booty and then gleefully post about it on social media? Understandably, many songs about cryptids are silly ones. Cryptids are not taken very seriously a lot of the time (even the name Mothman is pretty tongue-in-cheek!), and sometimes, neither are those who have claimed to see them. Eyewitnesses live with a stigma, especially those residing in places like small town Ohio or Appalachia. They are all too often subjects of ridicule, and their accounts are frequently dismissed as nonsense from hillbillies who were drunk or stoned out of their minds. However, this is simply not the case most of the time, at least in the most well-known and widely-reported accounts of cryptids. Many people are sincerely convinced they saw cryptids such as Mothman with their own eyes and terrified about what they saw. Some are so terrified they don't tell people for years, or insist on remaining anonymous. They're certainly not attention-seeking types. While many of us go to places like Point Pleasant hoping against all odds we catch a glimpse of Mothman as we explore the area, some people wish they could forget their encounters entirely. I've actually spoken to one such person who claims to have seen Mothman, and it was a haunting experience. I wanted to attempt to do the spooky and surreal more serious side of the cryptid phenomenon justice musically and write some tunes about cryptids that are sincere and at least somewhat somber or ominous in tone, as opposed to jokey and campy like the Mothman parody of "YMCA" by Village People. I tend to be skeptical, but at the same time I like to keep an open mind. Some might say I'm not being skeptical enough, and maybe I'm not. Maybe I’m biased by my desire to “want to believe”. I just feel more comfortable saying “I don't know and maybe never will” about certain things than "this person was obviously delusional, case closed", etc. Maybe Mothman and other cryptids that remain enigmas are a mostly psychological phenomenon, maybe some of them are undiscovered animals, or maybe the reality is more out-of-this-world than we can imagine. Whatever the case, cryptids have captivated the imaginations of many people, and I'm one of them (in case you hadn’t noticed!). And I've had a big imagination since I was a toddler. Before I even knew about cryptids, I was describing monsters that appeared in my dreams and speaking enthusiastically of the lions and tigers and monkeys I was so sure were lurking in the little wooded areas of local parks (and thankfully my parents captured some of my wide-eyed ramblings on video!). Imagination is still a big part of me to this day. And in retelling some stories of some of my favorite cryptids in the form of songs, any slight embellishments are intentional, reflecting both the artistic license of my imagination and the reality of what happens sometimes when stories of folklore creatures are widely told--such as describing The Loveland Frog as green despite that color, to my knowledge, not being a part of any of the original reports (and not mentioning in the song that in the original 1955 report there was more than one such creature). However, at the same time, I was also intending to be mostly accurate in my retelling of anecdotes. Some of these songs reference actual places (such as Twightwee Road) and have nods to the influential works of real people. For example, "Where the Waters Mingle" is an homage to Mary Hyre (one of the iconic figures in Mothman lore) who once had a newspaper column of the same name that reported all sorts of strange happenings. "Year of the Garuda" references John Keel's famous book The Mothman Prophecies. Incidentally, "Where the Birds Gather and Rays of Light Show Through" (the title of the final track of my previous album Deeptime Dreamforest) also references something from The Mothman Prophecies. I guess you could say it foreshadowed this newest addition to The Strange Hours oeuvre before I ever thought of making it. Life is so unpredictable, and that can certainly suck sometimes, but that's also part of what makes it so exciting! As imaginative as I tend to be, twenty years ago I never imagined singing in front of another human being, ten years ago I never imagined releasing multiple albums of music I wrote and produced myself on a small budget, five years ago I never imagined I could pull off making a cryptid-themed concept album, and one year ago I never imagined one of my all-time favorite musicians and legendary icon of coolness, Michael Ivins, a founding member of my favorite band The Flaming Lips (bassist from 1983 to 2021 and now part of The Lolly Bombs with his partner Julia) would be collaborating with me on a song about Mothman! I don't believe in fate, but can't help finding it interesting that Mark Pellington, who in addition to directing the music video for what is to my knowledge the most famous song ever written about a Jeremy (the one by Pearl Jam), directed one of the music videos for The Flaming Lips' most famous song ("Do You Realize??") and also directed the 2002 movie adaptation of The Mothman Prophecies! Perhaps that foreshadowed Michael's future involvement in some obscure indie musician's Mothman song. Or maybe I'm seeing patterns where there are none, committing the fallacy of looking back in retrospect and sentimentally assigning significance to pure coincidence and luck. But I think that's part of what makes us humans what we are. We're tiny creatures floating in space on a big world spinning round, trying our best to convey thoughts and experiences and ideas and feelings, constantly looking for or finding meaning in a whirling jumble of mundane, funny, sad, awe-inspiring, heartbreaking, delightful, infuriating, amazing, confusing, grotesque, beautiful, and wondrously strange events that make up the epoch we find ourselves in.
- Jeremy Rubinow, July 2023