It was a night like any other when Adam Hendricks walked into that dusty cantina, an old dive bar with cheap whiskey, good company, and a tiny stage in the corner. He wasn’t looking for much—just a place to play his songs. That night, Chad Russell was behind the drum kit, filling in for the house band. When Adam strummed his first chord, Chad jumped in instinctively, locking in a beat that made the walls shake. By the third song, something electric was happening—people were dancing, stomping, and hollering so hard that the worn wooden floorboards groaned under the weight of the music.
From that night on, Adam and Chad played that old cantina whenever they could. The crowds got bigger, the dancing wilder, and soon, the owners had to start hammering the floorboards back into place after every gig. It became a running joke—"Man, you guys are gonna bring the whole place down!" Then one night, someone shouted, "You should call yourselves The Loose Floorboards!" The name stuck.
The band found its missing pieces when Johnny Toulouse, a blues-soaked lead guitarist with a taste for bending notes until they wept, and Corey Mahler, a bassist whose grooves felt like a heartbeat, joined the lineup. Together, they honed their sound—raw, soulful rock ‘n’ roll, the kind that made you move before you even knew why.
Now, The Loose Floorboards are playing stages bigger than that old cantina, but the spirit of that bar—the sweat, the stomp, the feeling that anything could come unhinged—lives in every song. These songs are thoughtful but untamed; putting to words and music experiences of the human condition.
So, when you hear The Loose Floorboards, don't fight it. Let the rhythm take you. Dance a little harder. Who knows? You might just start to shake the whole place loose.