Split Lip Rayfield performs Sunday, June 8, at the Bartlett Arboretum in Belle Plaine.
The gig marks the first Wichita performance from the venerable trio this year and one of the first shows that guitarist/vocalist and mandolinist Wayne Gottstine has played since undergoing a lobectomy and having a lymph node removed in December 2024.
His and his bandmates -- co-founding member Jeff Eaton and guitarist/banjoist/vocalist Eric Mardis -- have been rehearsing at Eaton’s Lawrence home to prepare for the show, and Gottstine says those rehearsals have found the band in great shape.
In some ways, it seems unthinkable that Split Lip would have lasted this long.
In short, it started as a lark. Gottstine and Kirk Rundstrom had played in a succession of bands in the Wichita music scene before forming Scroat Belly, which Gottstine has referred to as “country music from hell.”
The band toured extensively in the 1990s, and the members invited Eaton to come on the road with them. A gifted visual artist and jack-of-all-trades, Eaton brought along a bass he’d built from a gas tank and a hunk of hickory, strung with weed whacker line. Dubbed The Stichgiver, the bass would become an integral part of Split Lip’s sound.
Eventually, Rundstrom and Eaton recruited friend David Lawrence and built a following, mixing original songs with the occasional obscure cover song. When Lawrence exited the group, Mardis joined and solidified the lineup that would record the outfit’s debut recording.
Gottstine joined in time for the sophomore release, “In The Mud,” and continued to perfect the musical partnership that he and Rundstrom had been homing in their early years across two more albums, “Never Make It Home” and “Should Have Seen It Coming.”
The latter would be Rundstrom’s final studio recording with the group. He died in 2007, a year after being diagnosed with esophageal cancer. Within months, Gottstine, Mardis and Eaton had reconvened and demonstrated that the musical foundation they’d laid remained unshakable.
There would be other tests for the band in the coming years, more recordings, and periods of quiet during which the members tended to personal matters and gigged with other musical projects or, in Eaton’s case, focusing on running a small business.
Speaking from his home in Lawrence, Gottstine points out that one of the keys to Split Lip’s longevity has been knowing when to take time off to preserve the personal relationships central to the group. He also spoke about the earliest Split Lip days, the trio’s enduring body of song, and what his life has been like since being diagnosed with lung cancer more than four years ago.
The following interview has been edited for clarity and length.
When Split Lip started it was a side project of sorts, not really serious.
Scroat Belly was doing a lot of stuff. We were going to New York, all sorts of stuff. Jeff had built this bass, and we were dragging it around. Scroat Belly played the College Music Journal conference in New York. We played early and then had a Split Lip jam out in the streets, which was much more successful. We had this great crowd and had a lot of fun. The next day Scroat Belly had a gig at a botanical garden in New Jersey, which was a weird gig for Scroat Belly. People came out and liked it. After that, I told Jeff to get his bass out and the people really liked that. It kind of grew from there.
I always think that time plays a role in how music connects with people. Do you think there was something about the timing of Split Lip’s forming that allowed it to take off?
There was that grunge thing in the ’90s, and I totally missed it. I was in Scroat Belly, doing my own thing. We weren’t listening to the radio; we were practicing, jamming. Split Lip was this weird, incredibly organic product that made you think anybody could do this. “This is something I could do on my porch.” That’s the beauty of acoustic music. When you look at band like Tool or some crazy prog rock band, that’s not something you think you can do on the porch. [Laughs.]
But with Split Lip Rayfield, you can connect with that. I get people asking me all the time, “What’s the lyric on that? What’s the chords on that?” I love that. I love that people play our songs on the porch. That, to me, is incredible.
Although this music is rooted in country, bluegrass, whatever, there’s something very punk rock about all that. “You, too, can write songs like this and put together your own band.”
Exactly. There is the punk aspect to what we do. There is the country aspect to what we do. Sometimes we’re a rock band. Sometimes we can get pretty heavy. Sometimes we can even get tender. It depends on the atmosphere in which we’re playing. This weekend, we’re going to play the Bartlett Arboretum, which I love playing. The last time we played there was for a benefit for Jenny Wood. We had this beautiful crowd. There was so much love there. It was a beautiful field of listeners. Everybody’s coming there to listen. That changes the dynamics of the band. We’re able to hear ourselves. It’s a special place to play.
Robin Macy from The Bartlett reached out to me this morning about something else, and she mentioned that the gig is either sold out or just about sold out. It didn’t surprise me, but I would guess it’s not something you take for granted. You can still have a bummer show after all these years, one where people don’t turn up.
You absolutely can, and we’ve had a bummer show in Wichita before, in the past 10 years. It happens sometimes. It’s just the rock ‘n’ roll business. There can be myriad reasons a show doesn’t take off on a particular day. But as a band that has played for 30 years, and we’ve been all over, we’ve had nights where five people showed up and then those five people got maybe the best show we’d ever played. Sometimes, when there’s no pressure like that, you can just let it go and play any way you want. Sometimes it’s a gigantic crowd and the pressure is on, and you’ve got to get up there and be aggressive. You never know what to expect, but what you want to do is just get up there and get it done every time.
I’ve heard people talk about their bands and say it’s a little bit like the Mafia. You get in and then that’s it.
[Laughs.] Yes.
You’ve certainly had moments over the last 30 years where it looked like maybe the band was over. Each time you’ve come back from that and proven that there’s still life in the group.
We’ve got this thing; it’s hard to describe. We can’t do it forever. We can do it for a while. It’s a full contact sport, especially for Jeff. It’s a lot of work for him; it’s a lot of work for me now. We still enjoy it. We had a little warm-up show last week, just a little Sunday afternoon pop-up show here in Lawrence. And we had a really good time. We’ve been practicing in Jeff’s garage; that’s different. Our dynamics, the way that Eric and I work off of each other, is a little bit different that way. When you pump electricity into it, it turns into a different monster.
I would like to do some intimate, acoustic shows with this band. One, I think it would be helpful for Jeff’s hand if we could do some mellower shows sometime. Two, I think it’s this part that most people have not seen from this band. I hope that we can do some kind acoustic video concert format. I’ve been having ideas about that because we do sound different when we’re just acoustic in Jeff’s garage. We sound fantastic in there. Those practices to me are just as much fun as having a show.
When I got to a Split Lip show, I’m surrounded by people who know the words to the songs; they sing along. It’s really powerful. I would have to think that for you on stage it’s magnified.
It’s the reason that keeps you going. Split Lip’s not a huge band. We’re just a little bitty band from Kansas. But our fans, the fans that we do have, are so dedicated and these songs have touched their lives and to watch them sing them makes it worth a lot of the sacrifice that we put into this world. There’s a lot of sacrifices you make when you’re a musician. When you can reach people, and you can bring them joy, and you can see them sing your songs, that is huge. That helps you think, “OK, I made the right decision.” By the time you get to year 30, you’ve made a lot of hard decisions about your life when it comes to music and your livelihood and your family. A lot of hard decisions come with 30 years of being in a band.
You’ve known Jeff and Eric longer than 30 years, and you still have these friendships that have endured through a lot of difficult times.
It’s incredible. I don’t think a lot of people get that. I’m so fortunate in so many ways in my life. I’ve known Jeff since I was 21 years old and last Friday night, I was at his art show. That’s incredible to me. I’m incredibly grateful for the friendships that we still have, regardless of how long we can keep Split Lip Rayfield going. Our bodies can’t do this full-contact sport forever. We’ll always be close. Jeff’s probably the closest friend I have. We’ve endured [a lot in 30 years with this band], and it’s tough.
There were years where we did a lot of shows. It was super hard. It was not easy. We would get up there every night and get it done. That brings this camaraderie. We’ve been to this different plane of existence. We’ve done these challenges and come out the other side. A lot of bands, their friendships don’t survive these stressful challenges that come with being a band for so long.
How far out from your diagnosis now? About five years?
About four-and-a-half years. I had the full fun chemo radiation project first, and then after that playing shows was incredibly important to me, so I had a little reprieve where I was able to do shows for two years. And then I got this second round [of cancer], and I wasn’t given a very good prognosis, so I went and got a second opinion and that’s when I had most of my lung removed. That’s been five months. I’m sore still but I’m feeling pretty good.
Some people will hear me say this and think it’s glib, but I would imagine that music was a big motivator in your recovery.
Oh my god, absolutely. I was a lunatic for a month before my surgery. I was terribly frightened that I would never be able to really sing again. They took two thirds of one of my lungs. Turns out they weren’t working anyway. They were super ugly. [Laughs.] That lung was ugly. The surgery was long; it was a big one. I was in ICU, and I just started singing. I sang a whole song, and then I knew I was going to be OK.
I recently went to a memorial service for someone who had major health issues. They lived well beyond what everyone said was possible, and doctors and nurses had a lot of opinions about what this person should do — think about hospice, think about palliative care — and they refused to let anyone determine what their life looked like. It was powerful to realize what you can do when you take hold of things and say, “This is my life, and I’m going to live it the way I see fit.”
You gotta be ready to fight. There’s a lot of luck involved. It’s a lot like real estate: location, location, location. Even at this point with no evidence of disease, I’m not out of the woods yet. I’ve got to be mindful of my positivity because that’s incredibly huge. You’ve got to appreciate all the things around you and live every day. I’m at my first prognosis. Four-and-a-half years ago, they were saying, “You probably have five years left.” Four-and-a-half years I’m going to go do some big rock ‘n’ roll shows with my band, and right now I am at point of no evidence of disease, which is different than cancer free. But I know that I have some time to live. I’m going to do it as positively as possible, as healthily as possible; I’m not going to try to overwork myself.
I don’t ever see me … giving up music. It’s been so important to me. I was booking shows with Split Lip when I still had a tube in my side. I said, “I will be ready to play that show then.” I will play it.” It’s given me this reason to get healthy, to get over this surgery, to get back, to get my one lung strong.
I feel like I can sing stronger than ever. Yesterday, with the Wayne Gottstine Band, I sang with Jamie Briggeman for an hour and 45 minutes. She’s a powerhouse. You’ve got to bring your A game when you’re singing with her. I’m tired today, but we made it. I’ve been singing with Eric for over 25 years. Singing on top of him, I’ve got to get pretty high vocal-wise, and I can do it. I’m so grateful that I still have the wind to do that. I love singing with Eric. We don’t have to think about it. That’s a super special thing to me.
This whole thing has been motivation to get healthy. It’s not easy with cancer. I’ve lost five or six friends during the time I’ve had cancer. I feel grateful that I am where I am, but also, I’ve lost these wonderful people to this same disease. It keeps you humble. It keeps you grateful for the world around you.
To bring this back to music before we say goodbye, I wondered if there’s a song that when you play it, you’re doing it for yourself. It’s great that the audience likes it, but you start the song and think, “This is for me.”
That song is “River.” I just love to jam on that. It has everything. I’m proud of that song. Lyrically I give it a B+. Musically, I give it an A+. It’s got strong mandolin, it’s got strong banjo; it’s got a time change. It’s got strong bass licks. It’s got excellent harmonies. I get to shred on the mandolin. Eric gets to shred on the banjo. I think it showcases everything that this band can do. It kind of sounds bluegrass, but it’s also kind of metal, and it also gets a little bit reggae at the end. [Laughs.]
