• Courtesy
• Whiskey Priest, Whiskey Priest

(Self-released, digital)

When a teacher, a poet, a builder and a painter walk into a bar in southern Vermont, a priest walks out. In this case, the teacher is Chandler Poling, a music educator who shares the joy of playing guitar and ukulele with his students. The poet, Mike Snide, works alongside his brother, Paul Snide, at their family construction business. And the painter, Bob Wiegers, crafts inky canvases with acrylics and augmented reality. But when the day is over, the four friends swap their work tools for guitars, banjos, harmonicas and mandolins to form Whiskey Priest, an old-timey string band.

Their self-titled March debut delivers what the band calls "good times with a twist." It's an eclectic blend of folk with a bit of blues, a little gospel and a lot of heart. The name Whiskey Priest comes from a literary archetype the group jokingly relates to: a man of the church who has good intentions, despite his vices.

Live footage on YouTube shows the band clad in classic New England fashion — work boots and flannel — performing songs that range from a 1940s tune about a meatball to a timeless lamentation about whiskey. The group's southern style is an ode to a bygone era, reminiscent of the rustic score of the 2000 Coen brothers comedy O Brother Where Art Thou?

Since recording the songs at Old Mill Road Recording in Arlington, Whiskey Priest have been gigging at markets and bars in the Bennington area and across the border in New York. According to the band's Facebook page, Wiegers played his last show with the group in June; Whiskey Priest now continues on with three members.

The album starts off with Josh White's 1944 comedy classic "One Meatball," setting a tone of musicianship that, despite being traditional, doesn't take itself too seriously. Poling's voice breaks into startling high notes in this ominous story of a man who can only afford one meatball — not too much of a stretch in today's world.

Contrasting the upbeat choruses of earlier songs, "Sitting on Top of the World" slows things down midway through the record with a rocking-chair groove. Crooning lyrics tell the story of moving on from a lover who left, complete with a heartfelt harmonica feature.

Then the mood switches again. Comedy makes a comeback in "My Give a Damn Is Busted," whose title phrase — perhaps the laid-back, country translation of IDGAF — came from Poling's friend during a sermon. (It's also the title of 2005 Jo Dee Messina song.) The homegrown chorus is relatable to anyone whose "get-up-and-go got up and went."

A few songs later, "Whiskey" is a fitting final track. While Whiskey Priest comprises a versatile mix of slow and fast tunes, the Tejon Street Corner Thieves cover keeps a driving pace, ending the album cold turkey on a final strum.

Although good-humored, the debut is a little rough around the edges. There are places where the beat catches or notes bend in search of the right pitch beyond what might be considered stylistic choices. Still, the songs have an undeniable plucky charm. Unexpected laughs and lively harmonica solos are high points in the spirited folk band's first studio recording.

Whiskey Priest is available on all major streaming platforms.