istening to “Thistled Spring,” Horse Feathers’ 2010 slow-burner, in the dead center of a Michigan March gives somewhat of a cinematic quality to things, as if the music itself is forcing winter’s turn into spring like one of those artsy transitional sequences in an indie film. An album about burying last year’s rotting memories and picking beauty out of the present, deciphering Justin Ringle’s depressive, nature-tinged musings over cello-driven chamber-pop orchestration is something like spotting hidden road kill in a Thomas Kinkade painting. Ringle’s oh-so-soft vocals – only a couple notches above folk legend Nick Drake’s – nearly match the beauty of the music itself, which is articulately arranged, organically winding folk with no percussion to be found in its many layers. Like a slow but persistent snowfall, Horse Feathers albums are initially light and airy, building upon themselves with each listen until you’re ankle-deep in their thematic substance. If the title is any suggestion, their new album “Cynic’s New Year” could prove to be the most weighty and immediate, but I’ll let Ringle himself drop some more clues about the April 17 release. I had the chance to talk with Ringle a few days before he joined the rest of Horse Feathers on stage at SXSW:

How would you describe your music to someone who is unfamiliar with Horse Feathers?

It’s kind of based in songwriting, but at the same time there’s a lot of developed orchestration, I guess. To put it in a nutshell.

How did you first get into music and what drives you to create it?

I’m originally from Idaho, and I kind of got into music because it’s pretty sparsely populated and there wasn’t a whole lot to do. I had gotten into music as a fan and when I started to play it and write songs it became a way to entertain myself and pass time, and there was plenty of time to do that growing up. I did that for a long period of time and that’s how I developed into playing music and writing songs. In terms of what keeps me doing it, every time I do a record there’s different motivations. There’s different things to say – and eventually when you write songs long enough, it becomes how you end up expressing yourself in general. You kind of keep on topping, it’s the same process over and over. You get to a point when you’ve made enough music and that kind of becomes who you are, so you make music regardless of how it’s going to be received or how it’s going to be put out.

You mentioned that you started out as a fan – do you remember some of the first bands you were into?

Oh man, that was when I was fifteen or something… I was very intrigued by the idea of all underground music at that age – particularly stuff from the Northwest. You probably couldn’t tell that much from my music now, but I started out listening to everything from the grunger stuff like Mudhoney and Nirvana, then moving onto Built to Spill, Modest Mouse, all the Up Records stuff from Seattle, also Unwound who were on Kill Rock Stars at the time, and stuff that was happening with K records… That’s what I grew up with – indie rock in general – then it slowly evolved as I got older and I got more into acoustic and roots music.

Many of your songs tell stories. Do you write directly from experience, or more from combinations of experiences and feelings?

I’d say both. I think the newest record we have coming out, as far as the songwriting goes, feels a little more personal and literal. I kind of cherry-picked a little bit more from my life, but then there’s also places where it’s somewhat of a fictionalized account of something that’s interesting, or places where I feel like I can express emotion through the story more accurately when it becomes a device for that. But it’s never the same all the time – it constantly changes depending on which way the song goes.

I read that you began focusing on acoustic music sometime in 2004. What drew you to a more soft and intimate sound?

I played in rock bands since I was fifteen years old and did that for a number of years. Eventually I kind of started to gravitate towards the song being the most important part of the whole process, and I was being attracted to that even before moving to Portland. I became way more interested in songs themselves, and eventually what happened was I moved here to Portland, Oregon, and didn’t have the means to be in a band and couldn’t get a job. I ended up just starting from scratch playing acoustic music completely. So part of it were the practical reasons, the other part was just interest as well. I kind of just tired of playing with guitar, bass, drums, and wanted to try different things.

Can you tell me about “Cynic’s New Year” as far as what we can expect to hear as it compares to your previous work?

This record, for me, felt a little more personal. Also, it expands on different things that people are probably familiar with from the other records. It’s not going to be like a total non sequitur. It expands on some of those same themes and sounds but, to me, it has this slightly different feel. The process was different to make it. As far as expectations for what you’ll hear, I don’t know, I feel like it’s more of an album, even more than the last one. It’s kind of a musical idea from beginning to end in one way, but at the same time the songs are a little snappier and more concise.

You’re currently on a pretty extensive tour throughout the U.S. and Canada. What would you say are some of the pros and cons of spending so much time on the road?

Obviously it can take a toll on setting roots at home. It can be hard on your personal and social life because you’re constantly uprooted and moving to a different city every day. But I look at it a couple different ways now. I’ve done it enough so that I kind of know what to expect, and I’m kind of lucky because you’re going to work in a different city each day, so there’s the dynamic element of that. To have travel be a part of what you do is really refreshing – although sometimes it can be really annoying, too. It just depends on where you are and how you’re received sometimes. But that’s the best thing about it – it constantly changes.

Have you been to Ann Arbor before? 

Yeah, we’ve actually played The Ark one time before, but that was about two and a half years ago. I really liked it – it’s definitely a listening room and has the intimate thing and stage, for sure. It was comfortable for me, and seemed like a place that had a lot of history.

If you could spend a day with any musician, who would that be?

My kneejerk reaction is that I wanna say Bob Dylan, but that’s so ridiculously cliché. On one hand, I think everybody would. I wouldn’t mind spending the day with Graham Nash. I think he’s an incredible songwriter in a lot of regards, and his perspective on things is really interesting from the interviews I’ve read.

Horse Feathers will be performing at The Ark on April 27. Tickets can be purchased at theark.org.