Where some alt/country bands try to sing and pick like their forefathers so desperately that you can smell their formal musical training a mile away, you get a sense that the Pine Hill Haints (itâ€™s an arcane Southern way to say â€œhauntsâ€ â€“ I looked it up) get their legitimacy not from aping some Smithsonian Folkways compilation or other but from, well, from just making sweet Appalachian porch music. The Alabama skater friends thread together the romance, anxiety, religion, determination, and abandon that makes the American South such an enigma â€“ and such a fertile breeding ground for a band that inadvertently keeps the old traditions alive while creating one all of their own.
4 Replies to “Pine Hill Haints”
Just so you know, "haints" (or as it is sometimes shown, "ha'nts") is indeed a way of saying "haunts," but it means "haunts" in the sense of "ghosts," and not in the sense of "hangouts."
From one of your Southern friends,
Check out my favorite song:
"Whiskey Broke My Fall"
and come back to San Pedro!
I grew up in Northwest Alabama. I was raised being told the meaning of "haint" was a ugly haggard woman. I have never heard it used otherwise.
Nah, I'm from the Tennessee River valley (Huntsville) and a "haint" is definitely a ghost.
With that being said, Haints, please come to Boston!!!