17 FEBRUARY 5-11, 2026 westword.com WESTWORD | CONTENTS | LETTERS | NIGHT+DAY | CULTURE | CAFE | MUSIC | FIND MORE MUSIC COVERAGE AT WESTWORD.COM/MUSIC Giddy Up HORSE BITCH DISCUSSES ITS HEADLINING DEBUT AT THE BLUEBIRD — AND DOLPHIN SEX. BY MIC HAEL ROBERT S It’s a conference call with Horse Bitch, and things are about to get weird. Make that really weird. Unless, that is, you think it’s commonplace for a musician to reveal that a primary infl uence on his outfi t’s upcoming album is hot man-on-fi sh action. Says Horse Bitch drummer and vocalist Alec Doniger: “Just to clarify — we are not dolphin fuckers. But we were inspired by one.” More on this claim later. But fi rst, a few words about the conversation at the heart of this profi le. Aside from a live gig, a phone sesh is the easiest way to assemble the assorted members of Denver’s most idiosyncratic and uncategorizable act, in part because there’s so damn many of them. Horse Bitch started at the dawn of the 2020s as a two- piece, but the group didn’t stay that way for long. Now, seven crazies are inmates of this vastly entertaining sonic asylum, and by the time they take the stage on Febru- ary 6 for their fi rst-ever headlining gig at the Bluebird Theater, they could add two or three more. Don’t put that, or anything else, past them. Still, the format presents no shortage of challenges, due in part to the personalities of the steeds in this particular stable: Doniger, vocalist/guitarist Dave Knodle, vocalist/tam- bourine shaker Ashley McKinney, vocalist/ bassist Adam Cabrera, vocalist/guitarist/ keyboardist Riley Merino, vocalist/fi ddler Olivia Shaw and pedal-steel purveyor Caleb Amelunke. Not all bandmates vibe when the tunes stop, and even when they do, they often try their best to keep their friendship separate from their musical career. But this septet’s players appear to be more than just friendly. They give every indication of being positively delighted with each other, laugh- ing early and often as they interrupt jokes with follow-up gag lines (the more bizarre, the better), and generally talking over each other with the enthusiasm of people who are utterly comfortable in each other’s company. The result is more overlapping dialogue than in a Robert Altman fi lm, and while everyone agreed to identify themselves while speaking, the pact lasted about thirty seconds before the conversation devolved into enjoyable but undeniable chaos. That’s a long way of saying I’m not totally positive the person to whom a quote is attributed was actually the one who delivered it — but that’s appropriate, since it’s clear Horse Bitch operates as a collective consciousness, Pluribus-style, albeit without the apocalyptic overtones. Just as important: With these folks, you simply can’t tell the true from the false. By my estimate, somewhere between 40 and 80 percent of their remarks could be variously defi ned as fantasy, mythmaking or good-natured lies. But they’re delivered in such a charming and witty manner that I didn’t mind in the slightest. Horse Bitch’s three record- ings to date — 2020’s Spacin’ Out, 2022’s RIP Pistachio and 2024’s UVA — are infused with a similar sensibility. HB’s oeuvre continues the proud Denver tradition of twisting the rudiments of roots music into unusual shapes. But the assorted artists infuse their tuneage with madcap energy and gleefully ribald wit — reference the UVA track “Can We Talk About the Sexual Tension (Right Now) [On This Airplane]” — that lacks a direct corollary. This unique blend came via a combina- tion of kismet and higher education. “I met Ashley at CU Denver,” Knodle says. “Actually, I met David through his sis- ter,” McKinney clarifi es. “We were in or- ganic chemistry class together. But David was a kindred spirit to me, and we bonded really quickly.” “I was just writing a bunch of songs, and then I brought them to her and we started writing an album together,” Knodle notes. “Our fi rst song was ‘Captain James,’ and we still play that song,” McKinney points out. “It’s a long song, but it’s really lovely – and writing it felt really organic and easy.” Adds Knodle, “It had organic chemistry.” Pause for thirty seconds of wild whoops and guffaws. Other contributors signed on at intermit- tent intervals over the next half-decade, and most had on-stage experience. According to Knodle, “Everybody in the band has played in a lot of other bands and done a lot of side- manning stuff.” “I have not,” McKinney says. “Except for Ashley,” Knodle corrects. “She’d just done a lot of chemistry.” “My twin brother Jeremy was at the re- cording sessions when they were working on Spacin’ Out,” Doniger jumps in. “He has a trumpet solo on it. Jeremy shared that album with me, and Adam and Riley heard it. Maybe Adam was friends with me, but we heard it and wanted to be involved.” “I think I was next,” Shaw says. She explains that she’d met Knodle at a show, but when he asked her to sit in for a house- party performance, she deferred because of a previous commitment. When that gig was canceled, she dropped by anyhow only to discover that “they’d hired another fi ddle player. So we had twin fi ddles. But natu- rally, I had to hire a hit man to eliminate any competition for the fi ddle position. And it was worth it, not to incriminate myself or anything.” “I also hired a hit man against another pedal steel player, but he didn’t die,” insists Amelunke. “It turns out he just got put into a witness protection thing in Nashville. I felt a little ripped off about that when I found out he was still alive.” “We’re an unexpectedly violent band,” Shaw contends. This tangent leads to a discussion about where each member ranks on the aggres- sion scale, with Shaw arguing that “David is the sleepiest. He has a severe Vitamin D defi ciency.” “It’s very serious,” Knodle stresses. “I could break a little bone at any moment.” Despite his alleged fondness for dozing, Knodle divulges that he and the rest of Horse Bitch have recorded a slew of new songs and aim to put out an album this year. And yes, he swears, one of the primary themes is dolphins. “I’m about to regret what I’m going to say,” Doniger maintains, “but we were all investigating this dolphin fucker, a guy who was famous for fucking dolphins.” The description fi ts Malcolm Brenner, a Florida man (naturally) at the center of the 2015 documentary Dolphin Lover. But Doniger throws some doubt into the mix. In his words, “I don’t believe it was the writer Malcolm Gladwell, but it was something like that.” At that point, the exchange veers into a discussion about whether I should con- tact Gladwell and ask if he has ever fucked a dolphin, with Shaw opining that, “if he declines to comment, I think that’s more incriminating.” In the end, I believe I am the only “no” vote. “Anyway,” Doniger eventually continues, “we were fascinated. It wasn’t like it was an awesome thing or a horrible thing, but we were defi nitely fascinated. And there are a lot of songs about dolphins and falling in love.” Is he serious? We probably won’t know for sure unless the next Horse Bitch long- player is ultimately entitled Do Me, Flipper. But the possibility that some of this material could be shared at the Bluebird date certainly provides an incentive for attendance — and if so, that’s fi ne by the musicians, who sound unnaturally sincere when talking about the show. “It feels like the biggest gig of our career so far,” Doniger allows. Cabrera concurs, admitting that “it’s kind of scary.” “We’re mostly just scared that nobody is going to come,” Merino says, in part be- cause the opening ceremony of the Milano Cortina Winter Olympics is slated to take place the same night as the performance. To compensate, he insists, “we’re going to be extra-athletic.” Promises Amelunke: “Even sleepy Dave.” Horse Bitch, with Cheap Perfume and Gestalt, 9 p.m. Friday, February 6, Bluebird Theater, 3317 East Colfax Avenue. Tickets are $32.54. Horse Bitch will headline the Bluebird Theater. MUSIC COURTESY OF HORSE BITCH
