Taj Mahal & Ry Cooder Reunite to Honor a Duo That Few People Have Heard Of

“No, no, no, no.”

Ry Cooder is quick to put something to rest as he talks by phone from his home in the hills above Pasadena, California.

Yes, he and Taj Mahal went a full 54 years between recording projects together — from Cooder playing on Mahal’s 1968 solo debut, which grew from them co-fronting the band Rising Sons, to right now for the duo album Get on Board: The Songs of Sonny Terry and Brownie McGhee. The thing is, in the decades that harmonica master Sonny Terry and Piedmont blues virtuoso Brownie McGhee worked regularly together, from 1939 to the early 1980s, they were often at odds, sometimes not even speaking to each other off stage.

But no, there were no rifts between Cooder and Mahal, no disputes, no bad feelings that kept them apart.

“Nothing like that!” Cooder insists. “No, no, no!”

The time between projects?

“Musicians, you know,” Cooder says. “He travels around all the time.”

Yet, in other regards…

“It’s funny,” says Mahal, on a separate call between tour stops, “because we’ve actually become the men that we admired. We’re the new version of it, you know? So, it’s like full circle. It’s a wonderful thing to have really accomplished that, to be in a life in music.”

The way Cooder and Mahal have become the men they admired, presumably, is in the role of elder statesmen keeping traditions alive. They are honoring and, in highly personalized ways, refreshing the music with deep ties to past generations and cultures. That full circle — global circumnavigations, really — has seen them explore a wealth of music and cultures, from Cooder’s key role in Cuban group Buena Vista Social Club projects, to Mahal’s drawing on the Afro-Caribbean roots of his musician/arranger father. Their individual efforts include collaborations with musicians from Africa and India, just for starters. But with this album they each go back to where the sparks for all that first happened.

For Cooder, it started with the first Terry/McGhee collaborative recording, also called Get on Board, a key release in the essential catalog Mo Asch created on his Folkways label. In fact, the new tribute album not only uses the title but has cover art that is an homage as well. The full title of that 1953 album was the now archaic Get on Board: Negro Folksongs by the Folkmasters.

Sonny Terry had come to some mainstream recognition as part of the original cast of Finian’s Rainbow on Broadway in the late 1940s, and as a pair he and Brownie McGhee were featured in the Broadway productions of Tennessee Williams’ Cat on a Hot Tin Roof and Langston Hughes’ Simply Heaven. They were also championed by Pete Seeger, Woody Guthrie and Harry Belafonte, among other prominent supporters. But for young Cooder, this record was a discovery marked by its vibrant energy, with Terry and McGhee joined by one Coyal McMahan on vocals and percussion.

“It’s a great record,” Cooder says. “You’ve got the mysterious Coyal McMahan on bass voice, sort of a church bass, and maracas. They should have kept him on. I don’t know why they didn’t. He added a whole other quality to it. I don’t know who he was and nobody knows at this point.”

The new album features three of the eight songs on the Terry/McGhee set — “Midnight Special,” “Pick a Bale of Cotton” and “I Shall Not Be Moved.” Its remaining songs are part of the icons’ other recording and live repertoire, from the reverent “What a Beautiful City” to the carousing “Drinkin’ Wine Spo-Dee-O-Dee” to the double-entendre “Deep Sea Diver” to the down-and-out “Pawn Shop Blues.”

Adding their own touches to the songs, Cooder and Mahal recorded mostly live in the living room of Cooder’s son, Joachim, who also played various percussion instruments and bass, sort of filling the McMahan role (and more). They didn’t seek to recreate the originals. What they did do, was have fun.

“That was the intent,” Cooder says. “I mean, it seemed to me that we could pull it off and keep that feeling that those guys had back then. I don’t want to say ‘jolly,’ but foot-tapping, nice music. They had gone for a white audience, I’m pretty sure, at that point anyway. So, you couldn’t very well play very dark music at white people in those days. They wouldn’t know what you were talking about, what it was for. By the time they started recording together, I guess, black popular music had changed radically.”

Cooder is conscious of the radical changes since then in music and culture, in particular noting “Pick a Bale of Cotton.”

“They’re still really good songs,” he says. “And I think people will like hearing them as much now as they liked hearing them back when Brownie and Sonny did them. It’s a different time now. Of course everybody’s consciousness is totally different. I mean, everything is different.”

That’s part of the point, not to let the music that inspired them get lost.

“It just feels like old times,” Cooder says. “I have those records from when I was a little kid, so I can dig it. I remember how it used to make me feel listening to the record, how tremendous it was, how exciting it was.”

The circle for Mahal goes back to the early 1960s, when he was a student at the University of Massachusetts.

“There was a whole network for folk music and blues and bluegrass and country and all that old-time stuff in and around the Northeast sector,” he says. “I was like 19, 20 years old. And those guys were coming through and playing at local coffee houses. You could get to see them quite a bit. And I thought they were just an incredible powerhouse duo.”

A couple of years later, Mahal, who had started playing on the folk circuit himself, encountered a guitarist with a great feel for blues.

“I said, ‘Well, where the heck did you learn how to play like that?’” Mahal remembers. “And he said, ‘Well, you know, I took some lessons from this guy out in California named Ry. I said, ‘Do you think that guy might like to be in a band?’ And he said, ‘Well, he’s only 17 years old.’ I said, ‘Are you kidding me?’ And I said, ‘I guess I have to go to California.’”

And he did. When they connected, a love for Terry and McGhee was one of their bonds. Cooder, too, had seen the duo play a few times by then, the first coming when they played at the opening night of the Ash Grove, a Hollywood club that would become the center of the California folk and blues scene.

“My mother took me down there,” Cooder says. “I was 13 or so. I sat there and watched them. My gosh! It was something to see the whole thing come to life. You know, it was a tremendous impression when you’re young like that.”

And when they’re not-so-young. (Cooder just turned 75 and Mahal will be 80 in May.) They first chatted about teaming for a project after Cooder joined Mahal at the 2014 Americana Music Honors & Awards at Nashville’s Ryman Auditorium on Blind Willie McTell’s “Statesboro Blues,” a staple in the Rising Sons repertoire and a standout on Mahal’s 1968 album. That latter version, which featured Jesse Ed Davis on electric slide guitar, is reputedly the recording on which the Allman Brothers’ rendition was modeled.

When Cooder suggested an album honoring Terry and McGhee, Mahal was, well, on board. “Those guys are foundational titans,” Mahal says. “Here’s a guitarist and harmonica player that spanned 40 years, at least.”

But these musicians are also largely forgotten, which adds a sense of mission to this project, to rekindle interest in the guys whose recordings and concerts meant so much to them.

“If you stood on a corner and did an exit poll and talked to a million people, none of them would know who they are,” Cooder says. “They’ve been completely overlooked. I don’t know anybody that’s ever heard of them or remembers who the hell they were, except for musicians who have made it a point to keep certain things in mind. It’s like bluegrass. If you keep Bill Monroe or Reno & Smiley in mind, it’s that kind of thing. That’s how you live, and that’s how you evoke things, this memory that you have of these records.”


Photo Credit: Abby Ross

LISTEN: Brittany Haas with Paul Kowert & Mike Gaisbacher, “Ninety Degrees”

Artist: Brittany Haas with Paul Kowert & Mike Gaisbacher
Hometown: Nashville, Tennessee
Song: “Ninety Degrees” (by Brad Leftwich)
Album: Impromptu Sessions No. 1: Brittany Haas
Release Date: March 18, 2022
Label: Padiddle Records

In Their Words: “This album is a reimagination of 12 old-time tunes. Of the 12, this is the only modern one — written by the great fiddler Brad Leftwich. As primarily a fiddler myself, playing all these tunes on the banjo really freed me up to explore the melodies and each tune’s personality without thinking about living up to any standards on my instrument. The layout of the banjo is obviously totally different from the fiddle, which was a challenge for this tune so I ended up ‘inventing’ a tuning so I could get all the notes (maybe other players use this tuning, I just hadn’t tried it before! fCFBbC). The melody goes up a fifth in the second part and there are a lot of major second intervals. The funkiness of this melody inspired some very cool ideas from Paul Kowert and Mike Gaisbacher on the basses. Brad wrote a good one!” — Brittany Haas


Image Credit: Chris “Critter” Eldridge

WATCH: Tone Dog, “Salt Creek / Gold Rush”

Artist: Tone Dog
Hometown: Durango, Colorado
Song: “Salt Creek / Gold Rush”
Release Date: April 15, 2022

In Their Words: “Each of the three members of Tone Dog has a unique musical background outside of bluegrass, ranging from grunge to jazz, the Dead and beyond. Though we each come from a different musical perspective, what we all share is a love for the oral/aural tradition and lineage of fiddle music. The web of connections and interpretative journeys make these tunes resonate in a special way. Simply put, ‘Salt Creek / Gold Rush’ is a mash-up of our favorite fiddle numbers. We’ve maintained the essence of what makes these tunes special while shredding them as hard as we can, just like we do live. This is our ode to the pure velocity of flatpicking, the storied past of the fiddle tune and the unknown future of bluegrass music.” — Alex Graf, Tone Dog


Photo Credit: Carrie Phillips

LISTEN: Railroad Earth, “It’s So Good”

Artist: Railroad Earth
Hometown: Formed in Stillwater, New Jersey
Song: “It’s So Good”
Album: All for the Song
Release Date: April 22, 2022

In Their Words: “‘It’s So Good’ is a song about the celebration of reuniting, coming together with friends, and surviving what happens in between. It’s also about what happens on the way to those reunions. Specifically for us, we like to say we get paid to travel, because the shows are too much fun to call a job. Getting to the gigs are often an adventure, and not always fun. Everyone can relate and has their own version of this experience, and perhaps without the struggle the rest wouldn’t mean as much. ‘It’s So Good’ was written and recorded before Covid, and obviously reflecting on the joy of seeing everyone again carries more meaning now.” — Carey Harmon, Railroad Earth


Photo Credit: Liina Raud

Basic Folk – Mason Jennings

Mason Jennings has the most interesting songwriting process I’ve come across. Since he was around 13 years old, the Minneapolis songwriter has had songs just come to him while randomly playing guitar and singing. He gets in touch with his subconscious and discovers his songs there very naturally. He also never writes the songs down. That’s right, he commits each song to memory and only writes them down for liner notes.

 

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Born in Honolulu and raised in Pittsburgh, he chose Minneapolis to settle into his music career. There, he found lots of success and managed to avoid the ever-tempting major label record contracts, which were being offered as high as $1 million. Wanting to remain in control of his creativity, he opted to stay independent until he signed with Glacial Pace, a subsidiary of Sony’s Epic Records headed by Isaac Brock of Modest Mouse. He released Boneclouds in 2006 and gained much acclaim. An album with Jack Johnson’s label and an appearance on the soundtrack to Todd Haynes’ Bob Dylan film I’m Not There, solidified his presence in the folk mainstream.

Fast forward to his latest album (his 14th studio record), Real Heart, co-produced by Pearl Jam guitarist Stone Gossard, is an ode to the acoustic guitar and a love letter to songwriting. Lately, Mason’s been working on himself through therapy and self-reflection. In the last few years, he’s been working on conquering and controlling depression, agoraphobia and living a sober life. He’s also gotten married again to Josie Jennings and the couple just recently welcomed their son Western in March 2022. A lot of these themes appear on Real Heart. We dig into those as well as his painting, the lake he lives on and Painted Shield, his synth-based rock and roll band with Stone Gossard and Matt Chamberlain. Mason’s a very special person and I’m grateful for this conversation!


Photo Credit: Benson Ramsey

The Show On The Road – Penny & Sparrow

This week, The Show On The Road is back with an intimate talk with Texas-born folk pop collaborators Andy Baxter and Kyle Jahnke, who for the last decade have toured the USA as symbiotic harmonizers Penny & Sparrow.

 

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Their lush 2022 release Olly Olly showcases their unique lifelong friendship and was their first collection where they relied only on each other from beginning to end. There is a field-recording looseness to some of the songs with sounds of nature and a cinematic string section lifting their effortless harmonies throughout. “Need You” could be about lovers re-finding each other in a dark time, or really it could be about Andy and Kyle themselves, reaching out to connect in every tumultuous season of their lives. Indeed they did mention that they’ve probably slept in the same bed more times with each other on tour than with their partners at home.

While they both grew up in religious families, the act of two men, best friends in so many ways, diving into their fantasies and fears like in the sensuous “Voodoo” for all to hear might be considered a radical act, but they’ve been making these kinds of confessions in sonic form from the beginning of their songwriting partnership. Their standout 2013 record Tenboom started popping up in playlists immediately, and their now beloved songs have been streamed nearly 100 million times and counting.

BGS 5+5: Jessica Willis Fisher

Artist: Jessica Willis Fisher
Hometown: Nashville, Tennessee
Latest Album: Brand New Day

Which elements of nature do you spend the most time with and how do those impact your work?

I spend a lot of time outdoors with my husband, Sean Fisher aka Mr. Bootstraps. He’s a wonderful adventure and lifestyle photographer and our work together has been such a huge part of my new life. Time out in nature has been extremely healing to me. I find the rhythm of seasons to be very grounding, and I believe travel widens my capacity for empathy. I recharge outside and feel most resilient when I can be close to the earth for long periods of time. Whether others can see it or not, I recognize strong nature themes woven throughout this Brand New Day record.

What other art forms — literature, film, dance, painting, etc — inform your music?

Ultimately, I love stories and I am fascinated by the power of ALL forms of art to help us articulate the wide range of human experience. So many things encourage me to explore and be creative. I’ve been an avid reader ever since I was young, and now also find inspiration in movies and TV shows, many mediums of visual art, fashion, preservation efforts, architecture, and textile crafts. The list is constantly growing!

What was the first moment that you knew you wanted to be a musician?

I sing because I am a writer and I feel compelled to share my work with people. However, being on stage or being a “performing artist” was never my strong suit or the end goal and I struggled to embrace it early on. I was inspired to learn to play fiddle and write tunes by attending Irish and folk festivals in my childhood. It wasn’t until I was maybe 17 years old that I ended up singing (unplanned) a 10-minute a cappella ballad on stage on St. Patrick’s Day in Irish pub that I truly felt the magic for the first time. The room of rowdy people was absolutely silent and I’d never felt simultaneously so vulnerable and powerful. It felt like being transported, transcending time and space and I was just lucky to be a part of it, a vessel for something much bigger than me. That hooked me for sure.

What’s the toughest time you ever had writing a song?

I think it’s the toughest whenever I am writing 100% truth, no fiction intertwined, no artistic liberties to hide behind. I’ve now written some excruciatingly honest songs and they are equally painful, beautiful, and rewarding to share. “My History” comes directly from some life-changing therapeutic breakthroughs after processing the trauma from my abusive past. “Hopelessly, Madly” was the first love song fully inspired by my happily married love life and it was so emotional and overpowering to write, it took me so long. I had to add a line or two and then take a cry break!

How often do you hide behind a character in a song or use “you” when it’s actually “me”?

I used to do this all the time when I started writing songs! I grew up in an environment where what I was allowed to say, do, and believe was heavily controlled and therefore plausible deniability was super important for me to have. I would usually feel like I could get away with only a seed of truth and the rest of the song had to be constructed to protect that seed. I wanted to get it out there and see if anyone could recognize it and if so, I would feel such a strong bond and connection, a bit like passing notes or sharing clues in ciphers. I don’t feel I have to do that anymore and tend to go forward with less protection these days. Changing the character or making historical fiction is still a great way to write and I’m sure I will do that more in the future, but I just had so much to say “for real” in this Brand New Day record.


Photo Credit: Sean Fisher

Carolina Calling: the Wilmington Effect

From Blue Velvet to One Tree Hill, scores of movies & TV shows have been filmed in & around Wilmington, North Carolina. Perhaps the best-known is Dawson’s Creek, the popular late-’90s coming-of-age drama series. While the show tried to tackle progressive storylines, its stark lack of diversity made Dawson’s Creek frequently cited as the whitest show ever. Nearly two decades after it went off the air, tourists still come to Wilmington in search of the show’s landmarks.

But Wilmington has a more difficult, less visible side to its history, politically as well as culturally, going back to the 1700s. Long before North Carolina became one of America’s original 13 colonies, there were thriving Indigenous communities throughout the region. There was also a time when Wilmington’s most famous musician was a man of color, Frank Johnson: fiddler, composer, and bandleader – and one of the biggest stars in American music in the years before the Civil War.

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During Reconstruction, Wilmington was an unusually progressive, forward-thinking town. In contrast to the state of things elsewhere in the South, Wilmington elected a racially diverse local government, led by both whites and freed Black people.

That came to an abrupt end in 1898 with a white-supremacist coup, a bloody rampage that left numerous people of color dead and Black-owned businesses destroyed. Those the mob didn’t kill, they chased out of town. That left Wilmington with a mostly white population, an all-white local government – and a whitewashed version of the city’s history in which Black people’s contributions were erased from the official story.

This might seem like ancient history, but it’s not. Wilmington’s most famous native-born musician is probably Charlie Daniels, the country-music star who died in the summer of 2020. Daniels was born in 1936 – less than four decades after that 1898 uprising. The real story of the 1898 coup is finally coming to light in recent years, thanks to works like the 2020 Pulitzer-winning book Wilmington’s Lie. But it’s still not widely known.

In this episode of Carolina Calling, we explore Wilmington – a town that keeps its secrets even as they’re hidden in plain sight – through the life and career of Frank Johnson, whose his story and stardom were all but lost to time – or rather, to the erasing effects of the 1898 massacre on Wilmington’s history.

This episode features John Jeremiah Sullivan, a writer and historian who lives in Wilmington and has written extensively about the city’s music and history for The New Yorker and New York Times magazine, as well as Grammy winner Rhiannon Giddens, and musicians Charly Lowry and Lakota John.

Subscribe to Carolina Calling on any and all podcast platforms to follow along as we journey across the Old North State, visiting towns like Durham, Asheville, Shelby, Greensboro, and more.


Music featured in this episode:

Paula Cole – “I Don’t Want To Wait”
“Saraz Handpan C# Minor”
Charlie Daniels – “Long Haired Country Boy”
Traditional – “The Lumbee Song”
Lakota John – “She Caught The Katy”
Ranky Tanky – “Knee Bone”
Lauchlin Shaw, Glenn Glass & Fred Olson – “Twinkle Little Star”
Marvin Gaster, Rich Hartness, Beth Hartness & Harry Gaster – “Rye Straw”
Evelyn Shaw, Lauchlin Shaw, A.C. Overton & Wayne Martin – “Money, Marbles and Chalk”
Marvin Gaster, Rich Hartness, Beth Hartness & Harry Gaster – “Chickens Growing at Midnight”
Rhiannon Giddens w/ Franceso Turrisi – “Avalon”
Rhiannon Giddens w/ Franceso Turrisi – “There Is No Other”
Joe Thompson & Odell Thompson – “Donna Got a Rambling Mind”
The Showmen – “39-23-46”


BGS is proud to produce Carolina Calling in partnership with Come Hear NC, a campaign from the North Carolina Department of Natural & Cultural Resources designed to celebrate North Carolinians’ contribution to the canon of American music.

Portrait of Frank Johnson via the National Portrait Gallery

LISTEN: Drew Cooper, “Darker and Darker”

Artist: Drew Cooper
Hometown: Born in Springfield, Illinois, raised in Tucson, Arizona
Song: “Darker and Darker”
Album: This Life
Release Date: April 15, 2022
Label: Atomic Javelina Records

In Their Words: “‘Darker and Darker’ is about addiction, from all sides of it. I struggled with the use of pain killers some years back and staying present in the moment when all you wanted to do was hide in the feeling they [pain killers] gave you. I was lucky that I was able to move away from it, but now being on the other side you can see what it does to the loved ones of the people struggling with addiction. I think the fallacy in addiction is that it’s a personal problem, in reality it tends to drag on everyone around it. That’s what I was trying to get across with this song.” — Drew Cooper


Photo Credit: Charlie Stout

Molly Tuttle & Golden Highway Make Room for Everyone on ‘Crooked Tree’

Crooked Tree is Molly Tuttle’s third full-length album and her first officially fronting a bluegrass band, but the 29-year-old-picker has been pushing the genre forward for the better part of her life. She started playing guitar at 8 years old and playing live onstage by age 11, often performing alongside her father or as part of a family band. In 2017, she released a debut EP, Rise, and became the first woman to be named (or even nominated as) IBMA’s Guitar Player of the Year; she then promptly turned around and took home the award again in 2018. She’s collaborated with Buddy Miller, Béla Fleck, and Bobby Osborne, and participated in a supergroup with fellow trailblazers Alison Brown, Sierra Hull, Missy Raines, and Becky Buller.

So it’s no surprise that Tuttle nabbed an impressive roster of guests for the new project, including producer Jerry Douglas. Ketch Secor, with whom Tuttle has toured and collaborated frequently, co-wrote eight songs on the album and joins Tuttle with his band Old Crow Medicine Show for “Big Backyard.” Gillian Welch offers a clever duet on “Side Saddle,” a song that makes an apt metaphor for busting up Nashville’s old boys club. Billy Strings—once a roommate of Tuttle’s—appears on standout track “Dooley’s Farm,” while Hull, Margo Price, and Dan Tyminski also join the party.

Even as the new collection demonstrates a close-knit music community coming together, its takeaway is just as much about the beauty of setting yourself apart. “I named the record Crooked Tree because I want it to be about embracing your differences,” says Tuttle.

Here, BGS catches up with the Nashville-based musician about the bluegrass voices that inspired her, the long road to embracing her own perceived imperfections, and why it felt right to dedicate this latest work to her paternal grandfather.

BGS: Were there any bluegrass artists that you turned to for inspiration, either for the first time ever or the first time in a while?

Tuttle: I did go back to people like Peter Rowan, John Hartford, Gillian Welch. Those were some of the people who influenced the songwriting on this record. I think those artists have a way of telling stories that you don’t always hear. I wanted this album to feature a lot of different perspectives, ones that maybe you don’t always hear in Bluegrass songs. John Hartford in particular has such a playful way with his lyrics. He obviously was a master of bluegrass, but with his songwriting and with his albums, he took it in new directions that were maybe a little more folky sometimes. He definitely pushed it into new territory.

Hearing what an influence Gillian Welch had on the record, I imagine it must have been wonderful to have her collaborate with you on a song. How did “Side Saddle” come together?

It was so exciting to have her come into the studio. I sent her a couple different songs—I knew that it would just be amazing to have her voice on something, but we wanted to let her choose and she chose that one, and I was so happy. We wrote that song from the perspective of a cowgirl who wants to be taken seriously, and that’s how I felt a lot, as a guitar player, especially. I’ve often been the only female guitar player around, and Gillian Welch is one of my biggest heroes. She’s been such an amazing role model for me, as an incredible musician and also just such a strong woman who writes amazing songs.

Hearing the lyrics to that song, I wondered: Is there any moment or memory where you felt like you were metaphorically asked to “ride side saddle” when you didn’t want to? How did that impact your path as a musician?

When I was a kid, I had so many amazing female role models in the Bay Area, like Laurie Lewis and Kathy Kallick, who both lead their own bands. It really felt like there were so many women who played music that I could be friends with and who could be mentors to me as a kid. But when I went to music school, I realized I was the only female in a lot of my guitar classes—it did feel like I was often the only woman in a room. Sometimes I had teachers making weird comments—one time a teacher told me that I “played really feminine”—so I just feel like people were often singling me out for that reason. I found that in jam sessions too: I remember one jam, in particular, when I knew most of the people in the circle. But there was one person I didn’t know, and he specifically skipped my solo every time I came around. The only woman in the jam circle, and I’m like, “Really? You’re going to go out of your way to skip my solo?” So yeah, I think there are times like that where I just feel like, “Come on!

There’s a line in “Grass Valley” that I really love about a shy kid with a mandolin, and it feels like an overt comparison to your own story as a young child excelling at music. Are there any things that you wish you had known when you were first starting to play?

I definitely knew as a kid that I had to work really hard, and I think I did work really hard at music. But I didn’t always know to believe in myself—to just feel confident. I felt like I always had to critique myself and always push to be perfecting my playing and singing. But really when I gave that up is when I made the most progress; when I felt more confident in myself.

What do you feel was your biggest challenge in getting this record together?

Well, I probably spent the most time on the songwriting, but that part felt pretty natural to me. I think the challenge came when we were cutting the album. We were doing it in a really short amount of time and wanted to keep everything really spontaneous and live. But it’s like we were saying before—you have to let go of perfectionism. It was hard for me to sing my vocals live and not want to critique every little note that I sang, go back in and overdo them a billion times. Jerry was really cool about that. He didn’t want us to have too much time where to go in and try to change everything afterwards. That was a new experience for me.

You co-wrote all of the songs on this album, several of them with Ketch Secor of Old Crow Medicine Show. One that stands out in particular is “San Francisco Blues,” which has plenty of modern-day references but feels somewhat timeless. How did that one come together?

We both love the old-school bluegrass sound and old-time music, and we both care a lot about songwriting and stories—and updating old stories. On “San Francisco Blues,” Ketch kind of helped me figure out how to incorporate some of those old song forms. That was probably like that song took the longest to totally finish… When I brought in the old format of a blues song or a song about having to leave home, that’s when it really clicked. I kept some of the current stuff, but also incorporated more old-school language into it. It really helped the song live in both worlds.

There’s a lot of rural imagery on this album. Was there any place or trip that specifically inspired those scenes?

Right when I was in the middle of writing the album, I drove up from Nashville to visit my grandma in Illinois. My dad grew up on a farm in a town called Yorkville. My grandma still lives on some farmland that my family owns, and while they don’t own the house where my dad grew up anymore, it’s still just down the road from her house so we drove out there one day. We probably technically weren’t supposed to be walking around but we walked around the old farm: All the buildings are all boarded up and it’s a little overgrown and the house is kind of run down now. It was a little sad to see, but it got me thinking about where bluegrass started for me. My grandfather was a farmer, but he also played the banjo, and he taught my dad how to play and my dad taught me how to play. That rural landscape really has influenced me, even though I didn’t grow up there.

You even dedicated the record to your grandfather, Gerald Tuttle. Are there any qualities that you feel that you inherited from him?

He was just such a hard worker. That definitely influenced my dad, and I think my dad tried to instill that in me and my brother. And then, of course, just seeing the farm and the music that he loved. And I think it’s cool that he worked so hard at his farming, but he also had this other side to him. He’d always show me videos of Elizabeth Cotten playing guitar and he loved Hank Williams. He just had such a strong passion for music—I don’t know if I would playing music if it weren’t for him. I thought that he would be happy that I finally made a bluegrass album.


Photo Credit: Samantha Muljat