There’s a certain kind of sound that doesn’t come from studios.
It comes from repetition. From late nights that blur into early mornings. From hands that don’t think anymore — they just go. It comes from small towns, long drives, borrowed couches, and the kind of belief you don’t talk about because you’re too busy chasing it.
That’s where The Steppers live.
Not in theory. Not in branding. In motion.
They’re rolling into Tulsa this Saturday for Terps & Chains, and if you’ve been paying attention — even a little — you already know this isn’t just another band passing through. This is one of those groups that feels like it’s figuring itself out in real time, right in front of you, set by set, mile by mile.
Ain’t No Hill for a Stepper
The name says everything if you know how to listen.
It didn’t come from a marketing meeting. It came from something older. Something passed down. The kind of phrase that sticks because it’s been proven true more than once.
And that’s exactly how these guys built this thing.
From Pauls Valley. From campfire jams. From playing wherever they could — including a literal flower shop — until the songs started to take shape and the sound started pushing back.
Not polished. Not perfect. Just real.
This Isn’t Background Music
Let’s get one thing straight.
This isn’t sit-down-and-clap bluegrass.
This is movement music.
There’s a pulse under what they do now — something tighter, sharper, more intentional than where they started. You can feel that shift. The edges are cleaner, but the soul didn’t get sanded down in the process.
If anything, it got louder.
The Live Thing You Can’t Fake
The Steppers are a live band first.
You don’t build what they’re building sitting behind a screen. You build it by getting out there and letting songs stretch, bend, and sometimes completely come apart before snapping back together.
That’s the magic.
And when it hits — you feel it.
Why Terps & Chains Makes Sense
Events like Terps & Chains aren’t just about music — they’re about environment. About people showing up open. About letting things unfold without overthinking it.
That’s where bands like this thrive.
Tulsa — Pay Attention
This Saturday isn’t about hype.
It’s about timing.
Bands don’t stay in this phase forever — this space where everything is still climbing, still sharpening, still dangerous.
Right now, The Steppers are in it.
Catch The Steppers
📍 Terps & Chains Fest — Tulsa, OK
📅 Saturday, March 21
⏰ 7:45 PM
The Steppers Biography, 2026
The Steppers are a fast-picking, hard-driving, mind-bending psychedelic string band out of Oklahoma City, Oklahoma, blending bluegrass roots with the freewheeling energy of improvisational rock, funk, and folk. With Jake Tobey on guitar and vocals, Theran Lantz on mandolin and vocals, and Lawson Popejoy on bass and vocals, the band has built a sound that gleefully ignores genre lines while honoring the traditions that inspired them. Their music stretches from tender to ferocious, weaving sharp songwriting with adventurous, shape-shifting musicianship that refuses to sit still.
The story begins in Pauls Valley, where lifelong friends Jake and Theran first started jamming around campfires. “We realized the chemistry was there,” Theran recalls, so they called on Lawson to join them on bass and took their living-room sessions into the world. Their earliest shows were held in Lawson’s parents’ flower shop, a humble and fitting beginning for a band grounded in small-town grit. Even their name carries that spirit. Jake’s father used to tell them, “Ain’t no hill for a stepper,” meaning there’s nothing you can’t do if you’re willing to endure. Today, that phrase feels prophetic, a reminder that carving your own path requires both patience and fire.
That fire first made its way onto record with their 2025 debut album, Head Over Hills, a collection that introduced listeners to their heartfelt songwriting wrapped in a string-band backbone. Fan favorites like “Let It Fly,” “Room Noise,” and “So It Goes” captured a young band stretching outward, balancing tight composition with exploratory jams. Follow-up releases, including material from Extra Special Regular and standalone singles such as “Ten Toes,” “Fall to Fall,” and “Bag of Colors,” showed a group steadily sharpening its identity, moving between driving acoustic grooves and introspective storytelling with increasing confidence. But even as their audience grew, the band knew they hadn’t fully unleashed the depth of their picking or the punch of their live sound.
“Our past albums have sounded mostly just like songwriters with a string band twist,” they admit. “This time we wanted to show the drive and punch that we can have, establishing ourselves as real pickers within the scene.” That determination fuels their forthcoming album due later this year, a project that marks a decisive step forward both musically and professionally. Unlike previous releases, the material was written in a concentrated window, giving the project a focused urgency. “This album was more thought out,” Jake explains. “Much more intent and arranging went into this process, and more thought into how our heroes blended the genre from old to new.”
Along their tour routes, the band studied the craftsmanship of artists like Yonder Mountain String Band, Billy Strings, Tony Rice, and Arkansauce, breaking down how those players honored bluegrass tradition while bending it into something new. Rather than imitate, The Steppers internalized the mechanics — phrasing, arrangement, dynamics — and filtered them through their own restless creativity. They expanded their sonic palette by recording as a full five-piece, bringing banjo, mandolin, guitar, bass, and fiddle together with greater precision and purpose. The result, in their words, is “fast, fun, and punchy.”
If the studio captures their evolution, the stage remains their natural habitat. “The stage is where we’re most
comfortable,” Jake says. “It feels like a perfect conduit of expression, a space where energy and creativity flow
freely.” Years of relentless gigging — from bars and pizza parlors to festival slots alongside Greensky
Bluegrass, Railroad Earth, Yonder Mountain String Band, and Del McCoury — have forged a
near-telepathic connection between them. “Our streams of consciousness coalesce into a single flow state,” they
explain. “Once that happens, it feels like you couldn’t hit a wrong note if you tried.” That exchange of energy
between band and audience fuels their performances, creating nights where improvisation blurs into revelation.
Recognition has grown steadily. A breakout set at Hillberry Music Festival marked the first time they heard
crowds singing their songs back to them, a surreal affirmation that their small-town jams had traveled far. Yet
for all the progress, their perspective remains grounded. “We just see ourselves as some guys from a small town
in Oklahoma with a song in our hearts and the means to show it,” Theran says. “We do a little pickin’ when
words won’t cut it.”
With their forthcoming album, The Steppers aren’t just releasing another record; they’re staking a claim. They
want to prove they aren’t simply a jam band orbiting bluegrass aesthetics, but a jamgrass band capable of
picking with the best while carrying their own flavor. They want listeners to feel represented, energized, and
compelled to dance — to find themselves in the stories while losing themselves in the jams. More than
anything, they see this album as a turning point. The earlier records were stepping stones, helping them discover
who they were. This one feels like arrival, the exact style they’ve been reaching toward, the sound they believe
can carry them into the next chapter of their career.
From flower shop shows in Pauls Valley to festival stages across the region, The Steppers have built their
momentum mile by mile, note by note. They remain driven by connection, creativity, and the belief that if you
endure and carve your own path, there truly ain’t no hill for a stepper.
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