What does it take to make a band? For the most part, it requires a strong work ethic; a willingness to play your heart out as often as opportunity allows.

This is the path that Fort Collins-based WoolEye knows best.

A four-piece group that has known almost as many drummer changes as Spinal Tap, WoolEye shows a willingness to go the distance playing their self-described brand of psychedelic Southern funk.

It’s too early to tell if they’ll reach their ultimate destination—trading their day jobs for careers as musicians—but if going on tour in a bus retrofitted to run on vegetable oil in the middle of winter is any indication, then this band’s future just might include playing to the masses at Bonnaroo.

Genesis of a Band—No Phil Collins Required

WoolEye was started in 2005 by Mike Rouse, a North Carolina native who now calls Fort Collins home.

Mike originally came to Colorado for a day job, but naturally looked to connect with others so he could continue to pursue his primary passion: music.

Music has always been a major influence in Mike’s life; he took an active interest as a teenager. But it was while following the Grateful Dead on tour in his late teens that Mike realized the kind of music he wanted to make.

He was overcome by the Dead’s ability to bring people together with their music. So Mike set out to make music that would not necessarily sound the same, but which would have that same effect. Now at age 32, it seems like his first legitimate chance at making his dream happen has arrived.

While Mike had spent a lot of time in a variety of different bands, none of them ever seemed to work out—until WoolEye. He attributes WoolEye’s current success to the talents and personalities of its remaining members. Glenn Manna on bass was the first to join, followed by a drummer that has since left the band. After playing as a three-piece for a time, they added Matt Goldberg on the keyboards to round out the squad. Finding someone on skins has been somewhat elusive, but Eric Garcia has recently joined Team WoolEye and the band is happy to be whole again.

Together, they’re able to make music without much of the infighting and personality clashes that plagued previous bands. The result is a sound more robust than the initial three-piece group allowed, but lean enough to give WoolEye more of an edge than most jam bands ... that is, if you consider WoolEye a jam band.

To Jam or Not To Jam

When it comes to music, it’s hard to resist the temptation to categorize a band, even if it means concatenating several genres and bands together until you come up with something that makes about as much sense as a fish on a bicycle.

But when you have songs clocking in at over 11 minutes, it’s clear this band likes to jam, and to the untrained ear, it’s hard not to toss them in the bin with the same name.

However, it’s not something that Mike and the band necessarily try to avoid or are surprised at.

If there’s any aversion to being labeled a jam band, it’s because of the doors that it closes rather than opens.

Like any musicians worth their salt, WoolEye prefers to be judged by the music it makes rather than the music people assume it makes. They have a genuine desire to play music that appeals to a diverse community.

So perhaps it makes more sense to examine how WoolEye differs from other bands in that unmentionable category.

Mike notes that WoolEye’s sound has been compared to everything from the Reverend Horton Heat to Widespread Panic. And while the latter might be more appropriate, Mike feels WoolEye’s sound has more of an edge than most jam bands, boasting, “We’re not afraid to play rock 'n' roll.”

Additionally, he also cites strong song structure and being more lyrically driven than his jammy counterparts.

Mike’s lyrics deal strongly with connections—to each other, the environment, the music, and the universe, but he doesn’t like to spend much time explaining it.

“It’s like giving away the ending of a movie,” he says.

Instead, he prefers people come to their own interpretation, and in the process, discover something new about themselves.

In the end, the real judge is the audience, and Mike is at peace with leaving it in their hands: “I don’t care what label you put on us. We’re just playing the music that we feel. We put our heart into this, and people can tell when you’re doing that. I think that’s part of our appeal.”

Better Touring Through Vegetable Oil

The key to success for almost any band is a strong base.

The Grateful Dead had their Deadheads and Phish had their Phish-Heads (or Phish-Phans).

It is these legions of followers that help sustain bands for years when mainstream radio turns a deaf ear. See Widespread Panic and String Cheese Incident.

WoolEye is no exception, and they’re slowly building their base of ... wait for it ... "Woolies" (not "Wool-heads," thankfully).

WoolEye has had good success in their hometown of Fort Collins. They’ve also done reasonably well in Denver playing places like Dulcinea’s. The mountain towns have shown them some love as well, but breaking into the Boulder scene has been difficult.

Mike attributes that to the sheer amount of talent residing in Boulder.

Overall, though, the Colorado support has been good enough that they’ve been able to sock away some of their earnings to help support their touring efforts by headlining their own shows or opening up for bigger acts like Kan’Nal and Garaj Mahal.

However, the best tonic to apply when building a base is touring. Over the past year, they’ve gone on four tours in a vegetable-oil-powered bus; a diesel pusher that has been altered to run on vegetable oil, biodiesel, or just plain ol’ diesel by Matt Jaye of Fried Rides in Longmont.

The impetus to drive such a vehicle was initially to save some money while showing their green side.

However, they’ve found that the connections they’ve made as a result of running on vegetable oil have provided some unanticipated benefits and plugged them into a new community.

On their past tour, they were able to run the bus 80 percent of the time on either biodiesel or straight-up vegetable oil harvested from various restaurants at their tour stops. One such pizza place in Madison, Wisc., powers their delivery fleet on the stuff and has a pump out back they allow WoolEye to use when they’re in town.

With touring comes stories of being on the road, and WoolEye is no exception.

On their winter tour of the Midwest, the band was belatedly nearing their destination of Grand Rapids, Mich., in the middle of a blinding snowstorm, only to have the lights of the bus go out.

In a move that would make MacGyver proud, they quickly gathered together some flashlights and duct-taped them to the front of the bus. Running even later, they didn’t make it much further before being pulled over by a cop. It appeared that all hope was lost, but after hearing their story, not only did the policeman let them carry on, he gave them an escort to their gig where they arrived to a standing ovation.

The road has been good to WoolEye.

Frequently, they’ve been able to draw bigger crowds in places like Iowa City than they would locally. Perhaps folks are drawn to the “Colorado Homegrown Rock” that WoolEye advertises, but more likely they are drawn to their high-energy performances.

Many times Mike and the band will take chances with their live shows, an experience that Mike equates to “climbing a tree and having the wind blow you off a limb and somehow you find your way to the ground without cracking your head.”

The risk seems to be paying off with an ever-growing fan base that’s not just reflected in their audience numbers, but on their MySpace page as well.

Opening Eyes One Gig at a Time

WoolEye plans to record a CD tentatively named “Sit Outside and Dream,” which, if all goes well, will be out in the early part of the summer.

Once the album is completed, they plan to tour extensively to support it. They already have one festival booked: Dogstock in Melvern, Kansas; and they plan to play more—like Bonnaroo in Tennessee and 10,000 Lakes in Minnesota—even if they’re only on the bill by boldly setting up in the campground and jamming to the masses.

Additionally, they hope to hit towns in the South and California before heading back to Colorado, committing everything to video with the hopes of releasing a DVD by the end of the season.

The name WoolEye comes from the phrase “Can’t pull the wool over your eyes.”

In WoolEye’s case, it’s meant to be taken as “lifting the wool from your eyes.”

WoolEye is not out to deceive you (thankfully), but rather to help folks come to an understanding about themselves and the world around them (or at the very least, to get you to rock out some). A tall order, perhaps, but Mike and the band are clearly up to the task. Just look for the big yellow bus that smells like home cookin’.

Full Disclosure: Matt Goldberg, WoolEye's keyboardist, is Justin's wife's cousin. Justin will write about your band too if you let him marry into your family.