On Motorcycles and Music

Words by Dale Spangler | Photos by Ryan Handt

“I had a neighbor who was a mechanic,” recalls Schultz. “And one time he came over and took it apart and put it back together and made sure that the governor wasn’t working on it anymore. You could haul ass on that thing!” Not long after, when he was 11 years old, Schultz got his first dirt bike, a Honda XR80 that his dad bought for him. He learned to ride in the woods near his home in Ramsey, New Jersey, located in the northeast part of the state close to the New York border, and near the Catskill Mountains and Hudson River Valley. “I created a little dirt track in these protected woods nearby,” remembers Schultz. “I raked out a path from a walking path that was already there, created a jump, and a couple of friends and I would go out there and ride laps and see how fast we could go and how high we could get.”

Like most kids that age, his riding often involved a bit of mischief. “I remember calling my friend and saying, ‘Look out your window in 10 minutes.’ I was way across town, so I took the dirt bike on all these side streets, made it all the way there, rode by him and gave him the finger, kept going, and then got home and called him again on my landline and said, ‘Did you see me?’” Schultz has many fond memories of his childhood in New Jersey, riding bicycles and motorcycles, for which he is grateful. “I wasn’t very good at it, but I loved doing it,” says Schultz. “I remember riding dirt bikes and getting in these little accidents, falling on the dirt and wet leaves and things like that. Whereas concrete is not nearly as forgiving. I feel like just having an awareness of how fast things can happen, I think that that’s a really great way to learn. You take a little fall, so you don’t take a big fall.”

Fast forward to the present, and despite his success as a musician, Wesley Schultz is a man who still loves riding motorcycles. As the frontman of the band The Lumineers, he helped the band gain worldwide recognition and a massive following with his instantly recognizable, raspy-yet-soothing voice, honest and heartfelt lyrics and songwriting, and incredible musicianship. Add to that the other band members’ musical abilities, catchy melodies, infectious live energy, and a refreshingly raw sound, and the result is nearly 11 million monthly Spotify followers, with a combined 1.5 billion listens to its top five songs. They are a magical combination of extremely talented artists who put in the hard work and paid their dues by grinding it out on the live music circuit until they achieved success with their breakout 2012 self-titled album, The Lumineers.

With the Lumineers based in Colorado, Schultz spends most of his time in the Denver area, but he still tries to visit where he grew up and the Catskills as often as he can. To Schultz, the area has a special allure, and for many music fans and musicians, the area is hallowed ground—with the likes of Jimi Hendrix, Van Morrison, Bob Dylan, David Bowie, Janis Joplin, and other well-known musicians having lived and recorded in the area at one time or another. Schultz is also drawn to the Catskills because of the well-maintained, scenic, and twisty roads that are perfect for motorcycle riding.

Spending time in both Colorado and the Catskills throughout the year, Schultz believes that in their own ways, both places play a big part in his life. “I grew up about two hours south of where I’m at now, in the Catskills. This whole region just feels like home,” explains Schultz. “When we came out to make our second record, Cleopatra, we were about to record in Colorado. We were going to do a 1970s move and turn a barn into a studio. Then the guy renting us the barn found out who we were and tripled the price, and we were like, what?” With the band scheduled to record in three weeks, Schultz called upon his friend Simone Felice (of the band The Felice Brothers) to help them find a studio to record in. Felice, who’s from the Catskills, lined up a studio called The Clubhouse in Rhinebeck, New York, where bands like The National and others have recorded.

“So, it was sort of by happenstance that we came back out here,” recalls Schultz. “And when we got here, I started to realize there was this power to the area. It’s like a vortex. Something happened. It’s like what I’ve heard about Taos, New Mexico, but it happened here. All these people in the past, Van Morrison and Bob Dylan… I mean, Jimi Hendrix used to plug in his amp and play on his deck, and it bounced off the mountains. He loved that sound, and the neighbors never complained. So many iconic artists came up here and called this home for a while. It’s got a power to it that’s kind of hard to describe, other than to say it’s an energy that stirs something in you.”

After that fateful trip to the Catskills to record the album Cleopatra, the energy Schultz initially felt began to carry over into his motorcycle riding in the area. It’s something that has become a significant part of his songwriting and musical process. “I’ve been riding around on motorcycles a lot through this area for the last five years when I’m here, which is a lot, and I use it as a jumping-off point for lyrical ideas, and sometimes even melodies,” explains Schultz. “On Cleopatra, the song ‘Angela’ wasn’t even going to be on the album, and it became this defining song for the album. It wasn’t written yet. And then we started writing it while riding motorcycles. We were on bikes, Simone and I, just riding around, and we would stop randomly, and over the sound of the engines, we would shout lyrics. Sort of sing-shouting the lyrics, loud enough to hear, the verses of ‘Angela.’” On another occasion, he recalls riding at night on an eerie winding and narrow road, and coming upon a bank of fog. Fog he describes as the type that feels like one is riding through a ghost house. And that’s when the last verse of the song “Angela” came to him. 

And it keeps happening.

The Lumineers are currently in the process of writing a new record. Schultz feels like the best song on the album doesn’t even have a name yet, but it’s a song he thinks can be a foundational track. A track that Schultz wrote the majority of the lyrics for while out riding. Not that riding motorcycles is the end-all for how he writes music. But he does believe the two go hand in hand. “It’s not necessarily that I get on the bike and say I’m going to write lyrics today,” Schultz points out. “It’s more like it just sometimes happens. I think part of it is where you ride. I’m riding on backcountry roads that I know really well now after five years, so I’m not thinking about where I’m going. I plot out a big loop, and then I do that loop.” Back in Denver, Schultz used to ride back and forth to the band’s studio. But he didn’t enjoy riding in the city, with all of its traffic and people who don’t always see motorcyclists the same way they do cars. It’s not that he worried about rider error; he was concerned about getting hit. So, Schultz sticks to mountain and backcountry roads when he’s in Denver, because he finds it much more relaxing and enjoyable.

As it turns out, splitting his time between Denver and the Catskills is a perfect way for Schultz to keep himself motivated and focused on his music. He draws parallels between the two places. After moving to Denver eleven years ago, he realized the Rocky Mountains define the area in much the same way the Catskills define southeastern New York. “The Rockies are a young mountain range, they’re adolescents. They’re angry; they look aggressive. The Catskill mountains are old, and they’re wise, they’re smoothed over. There’s wisdom in those mountains,” opines Schultz. He senses a similar power and energy in the Colorado Rockies to what he feels when in the Catskills. “I go back home to Denver, and it’s like, ‘that’s my journey.’ I grew up around here [Catskills], but I wanted to go somewhere on my own. It wasn’t necessary, but I found it to be just such an incredible place.”

Like the rest of the world, life changed significantly for Wesley Schultz due to COVID-19. Bands are no longer touring. Music venues remain closed. Instead of dwelling on it, Schultz tries to take things in stride, not look too far ahead, enjoy spending time with his family, live in the moment and be present instead of always looking ahead to the future. “I’m just trying to write as much as I can, but I’ve also never had this time with my family. It’s like that Michael Jordan documentary, The Last Dance. The thing about Michael that they bring up is how present he was. He had this ability to be present … He wouldn’t get too far ahead of himself, and he wouldn’t live in the past, either. It’s a good example to remember.”

When asked if he thinks it will be an incredibly special moment when he and his bandmates finally get to play live shows again, Schultz’s reply is an emphatic yes. He believes it will be a celebration for everybody because “people can only stream so many shows online.” For him, it’s about the feeling one gets when they’re there. Live and in person. “Music can be that way for me, for [all] people,” says Schultz. “We’re getting together, having someone say something on a microphone, sing something. The communal aspect of it is healing, it’s cathartic, and you can’t get that by virtually being there. We’ve evolved to be social creatures, so when live shows come back, there’s going to be a renewed appreciation for the fact that we can all do that together. I think people are going to be more emotional than ever because we couldn’t do that for a little while, and we figured out how important it was to us.”

Even though Wesley Shultz and The Lumineers are unable to play in front of a live audience right now, he believes the adrenaline and everything else that goes along with playing live music has to go somewhere. It doesn’t just go away. Instead, he believes that energy gets redirected toward something else. Triumph Motorcycles recently presented Schultz with a 1200 XC Scrambler, complete with custom paint. The bike gave him a renewed reason to get out and ride motorcycles in the Catskills—a perfect way to redirect his energy. “I didn’t see the bike before it was unveiled in person. I had a discussion with Triumph and with the artist Daar, who did the custom paint,” describes Schultz. “And then they made this thing that’s just so perfect, and I’m super grateful because I love riding. I’ve been riding anytime it’s a clear day. It’s become a catalyst for coming up with lyrics and melodies. You feel like you have this hit of dopamine, but you have to be ready to react quickly. You can’t be on your phone. You can’t be anywhere else in your mind.”