The story of The Hoot Hoots, like most good stories, starts in the Midwest. This one starts with the births of the Prairie Brothers in Clifton, Illinois. Born into a happy family - named for the lack of geographic features afforded by the land they had settled - the brothers Adam and Chris both caused quite a shock upon their arrivals.
Adam rocketed out of his mother's womb wielding a beautiful sunburst finish Telecaster and slammed a power chord that caused malfunctions in all of the surrounding hospital appliances. Then he patiently waited three years until Chris sprung forth in a similar display of pomp and glory, but wielding mighty tree trunks as drum sticks and with these, Chris began thundered mighty beats on the thighs of his poor exhausted mother.
It wasn’t long before the two sought grander venues and similarly epic band mates for their rock, so like the Denny brothers before them, Adam and Chris headed west for the coast.
The road was a strange and adventurous place. One day the brothers Prairie found themselves smoke jumping somewhere in the foothills of Colorado. Deep in the woods they found bassist Geoff Brown, fighting a forest fire with his bare hands while leading animals to safety with his ground-shaking bass. Together the three quickly snuffed out the blaze with the combined force of their sheer epic-ness.
Being epic felt good, but there was no reason the band couldn’t be prodigious. The three continued west with great success until they neared Pacific and became hopelessly lost on Bainbridge Island. There they struck upon Christina Ellis levitating in the Lotus position with a keyboard in her lap and a trumpet floating at her side. Taking this as a sign the band asked for directions and invited her along on their trek to the sea. And the foursome was prodigious indeed. So the band, with the help of the Orcas, rode into Portage Bay, and set up shop in Seattle’s U-District. Where they now (mostly) reside.
And that is the story of The Hoot Hoots.