“I saw The Beatles’ A Hard Day’s Night when I was 10, and that’s the movie that made me want to play music,” says Jay Cobb Anderson, one of Fruition’s three guitarists, vocalists and songwriters.

Born Jacob Daniel Anderson, he was raised in Lewiston, Idaho, a 30,000-person town known for its high number of retirees and for sharing a valley with Washington State. The local paper mill means that Lewiston literally stinks, but it was a safe, scenic place to grow up and, surprisingly, it had a stellar music scene.

Anderson was partial to everything from punk to ‘50s-pop harmonies and, at age 14, he started writing his own originals. This was around the time Fruition’s drummer, Tyler Thompson, moved to town, although he was younger, and the two circled each other for years. When they jammed on guitar in 2003, and finally on guitar and drums in 2008, Thompson was ecstatic.

“I always respected Jay,” says Thompson. “But he broke away from doing his harder rock thing and started playing some of his solo, singer-songwriter-style tunes—I was blown away.”

One night, Thompson recorded Anderson on his laptop and took the sample to his new home in Washington. There, he and roommate Jeff Leonard filled out the track with drums and bass.

Meanwhile, in Southern California, Fruition guitarist, vocalist and keyboardist Kellen Asebroek traded his pop-punk band for a singer-songwriter persona that felt in-line with an area where Jack Johnson reigned supreme. On the opposite end of the country, Mimi Naja—vocals, mandolin, guitar—started making music in a strip-mall suburb of Atlanta and was planning her move to Portland, Ore. Slowly, Asebroek, Anderson and Thompson migrated, too, and Fruition formed, with another Lewiston native, Keith Simon, on bass.

Over the years—as Naja began playing the mandolin less and the band evolved—Fruition expanded their folk/rootsy/ Americana sound into a broader palette that’s less easily pigeonholed, and Thompson’s old roommate, Leonard, eventually replaced Simon on bass.

“Our sound was already getting blown open and evolving,” says Asebroek, “but once Jeff joined the band, that kind of expedited that process and blew it open even further. He has a background in soul, gospel and funk, which is right up our alley as a band.”

Fruition’s blend of influences are perhaps most apparent on Asebroek’s standout contributions to Fruition’s latest release, Labor of Love. Fruition has also been known to flirt with a traditional rockband sound on songs like Led Zeppelin’s “Hey, Hey What Can I Do” or Naja’s “I Don’t Mind”—the record’s climax. Another track off that album, “The Meaning,” has a more pop sensibility, while “The Way That I Do” channels Paul Simon, and “Death Comes Knockin’” recalls a breathtaking Gillian Welch track. With Fruition, genres are irrelevant: Songwriting and three-part harmonies define the sound.

Leonard, who lives in Tacoma, Wash., was already a fan when the band asked him to join. “I’ve been playing music for 10 years professionally,” he says, “and I’ve never believed in any music more.”

If their increasingly large crowds are any indication, then a lot of people agree. After stints on Jam Cruise and at Strings and Sol in 2015, as well as two shows at Red Rocks in the span of a year and a summer chock-full of festivals—as varied as Northwest String Summit and Colorado’s new Vertex—fame is taking hold. With it comes the desire to keep putting out new music.

“We demoed more than 50 songs for Labor of Love,” says Thompson, emphasizing the band’s productivity and, in particular, Anderson’s ability to write a tune a day.

“I’m stoked with what we did on this last album,” says Anderson. “But, to be honest, I’m ready to go record another one.”

Singer-songwriter, fellow Lewiston native and frequent Fruition collaborator Brad Parsons has watched the group’s progression for nearly a decade. “They could be one of the biggest bands in the world,” he says. “I think with the songs and chemistry they have, the way the three vocals go together— it’s a really unique sound.”

Despite tunes that clock in under five minutes, with little to no bluegrass influence, Fruition has found a home in the jamgrass community, amid bands like Greensky Bluegrass, Railroad Earth and The Infamous Stringdusters. The quintet isn’t looking to abandon that base—they are simply interested in seeing what happens as things drift further afield.

“I wonder, what would it be like if we got to open on a tour for the Alabama Shakes or My Morning Jacket or Father John Misty—any of these more mainstream rock or indie-rock acts,” says Naja. “I think our sound would be very well received.”

And for those who have never heard the band, she adds: “Just check it out. The too-cool-to-explore thing? People should get over that.”