LISTEN: The Devil Makes Three, “Ghosts Are Weak”

Artist: The Devil Makes Three
Hometown: Santa Cruz, California
Song: “Ghosts Are Weak”
Album: Spirits
Release Date: January 22, 2025 (single); February 28, 2025 (album)
Label: New West Records

In Their Words: “‘Ghosts Are Weak’ is about breaking free from destructive habits and patterns. It reflects on how leaving behind a substance or lifestyle often comes with losing certain friends along the way. The song also carries a warning– escapism only works for so long. Sooner or later, the drugs lose their grip, but the ghosts of those choices grow stronger. Through raw lyrics and a haunting melody, ‘Ghosts Are Weak’ captures the struggle of moving on and the shadows left behind.” – Pete Bernhard


Photo Credit: Jin Lee

BGS 5+5: Shane Pendergast

Artist: Shane Pendergast
Hometown: Corran Ban, Prince Edward Island, Canada
Latest Album: Winter Grace

Which artist has influenced you the most – and how?

I’ve really spent a lot of time studying the music of Gordon Lightfoot. From his lyrics to his intricate melodies to his fingerstyle picking, I keep coming back to him for inspiration. He was able to create strong music over a long period of time. I admire his work ethic.

What has been the best advice you’ve received in your career so far?

Al Tuck told me, “Stay humble, stay serene, keep instigating.”

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

I live on a small island where the ocean is always close by. Whether it’s the rhythm of the waves or the salt in the air, I think it impacts my songwriting. I’m always thinking about how location impacts arts and culture. In terms of storytelling through song, I find myself writing a lot about things like fishing, rum-running, and the romance and ferality of the sea.

What is a genre, album, artist, musician, or song that you adore that would surprise people?

I really enjoy songs from old musicals such as The Sound of Music, Fiddler on the Roof and Oklahoma! There’s something about the playfulness and grand production of the songs that I can’t resist. Before I die I’d like to perform in a musical. Guess I’ll have to work on my dancing…

Since food and music go so well together, what is your dream pairing of a meal and a musician?

Maybe eating PEI oysters with Stan Rogers. If my uncle, chef Robert Pendergast, was doing the shucking it would turn into a great kitchen party.


Photo Credit: Justin Rix

Watch Post Malone Make His Grand Ole Opry Debut in New Video

Back in August 2024, in tandem with the release of his earth-shaking country debut, F-1 Trillion, Post Malone took to the heralded Grand Ole Opry stage for the very first time. The special edition show, “Post Malone & Friends Live at the Opry,” was filmed for an Opry Live and Circle Now livestream broadcast and featured performances by Malone, Lainey Wilson, Vince Gill, Brad Paisley, The War and Treaty, and many more.

As usual, the incredible Opry content team was backstage and on hand for the momentous evening, capturing Malone’s debut as they do for each artist who takes to the stage, stepping into “the circle” – the inset portion of stage taken from the Ryman Auditorium in downtown Nashville and installed into the floorboards of the Grand Ole Opry House. Hundreds, if not thousands, of iconic artists, musicians, and celebrities have strode the hallowed circle.

“Stepping into the circle today is very much like the Super Bowl,” Malone says in the video released last week. “It’s terrifying, but it’s so exciting – and I’m ready to rock.”

And rock he did, bringing the drive and swagger of his mainstream background onto the Opry stage, packaged in rugged, honky-tonkin’, and fun F-1 Trillion vibes. The video showcases just how excited and even giddy Malone is to share in the legacy of the Opry. It’s a common, nearly universal feeling for every artist – of every level and every genre –who has stepped onto that stage.

With words and thoughts from Wilson, Gill, and Post Malone himself, the video includes sweet backstage moments, clips of once-in-a-lifetime performances, and a heaping helping of the welcome and hospitality of the Grand Ole Opry family. It’s a testament to how open and warm this genre can be to newcomers and visitors in these styles – when it wants to be.

Enjoy a taste of Post Malone’s iconic Opry debut above and read more about F-1 Trillion and Post Malone’s history with the genre on Good Country here.


Photo Credit: © Grand Ole Opry, Photo by Chris Hollo. Left to right: Brad Paisley, Post Malone.

For Guitarist Jordan Tice, “Perfect” Recordings Are Never the Goal

Bluegrass. Newgrass. Chambergrass. Jamgrass. Thrashgrass. So many sub-genres, so little time. For guitarist Jordan Tice – solo artist and longtime member of Nashville-based Hawktail – there’s no time at all, because labels don’t define art and they don’t factor into his creative process.

“I don’t necessarily think about it,” he says. “I mostly do what I feel like doing and incorporate sounds that feel relevant, that I have a personal connection to and an excitement to explore, and the ability to replicate and share. I’d like to think that personality can unite disparate things if the heart is pure.”

Tice weaves a thread of musical connectivity on his new release, Badlettsville. The EP features two covers, Bob Dylan’s “Tryin’ to Get to Heaven” and Randy Newman’s “Dayton, Ohio – 1903,” as well as the originals “Mean Old World” and the instrumental title track. The four are staples of his live shows, but only now have they been committed to recordings.

“They’re all fundamental to my show and are requested as much as my other songs, but they didn’t have a place on either the last record or the next one, so they belonged in Badlettsville,” he says. “They fit together sonically as well. As soon as we got those four things down, I was like, ‘This is something.’”

Ever busy, Tice isn’t slowing down in 2025, although the emphasis is shifting somewhat. After two hectic years, Hawktail is dialing back a bit on gigging and Tice is devoting time to another solo album. “Hawktail has an EP in the can that will hopefully get out sometime soon,” he says. “We’re doing a few festival gigs but taking a much lighter year. I’m doing some dates in support of [Badlettsville], in addition to festivals with Hawktail. But I’m trying to take a little bit of a step back to focus on making this new record.”

Your website bio begins, “Jordan Tice is a musical seeker of the most dedicated sort.” What does the term “musical seeker” mean to you?

Jordan Tice: I’m always exploring my own interests and creativity, and also exploring the music that I do play, the roots of that. I want to understand myself and everything I do, and everything that came before me, better.

Part of the art of music is communicating to anybody, not particularly musicians. The more you understand about music in general, the more you understand what works and what doesn’t. The more you do it, get out there, and play and make records, the more you understand how things register and land with people – different types of thoughts and sentiments, things like that. Music is the art of sculpting sound within a given amount of time for someone who’s giving you their ear.

How has that manifested itself over the course of your solo albums and Hawktail?

With everything you do, there’s something you want to repeat about it, but there’s also things you want to do differently. I mostly grew up writing instrumental music and Hawktail is entirely instrumental. Long about 2015 or 2016, I started writing songs like crazy, just out of nowhere, and I realized I needed an outlet for that. But the instrumental stuff is still near and dear. Keeping a foot in both doors allows me to scratch this itch and this love for both of these things I do.

Did moving to Nashville have something to do with your songwriting?

I think so. I can’t provide concrete evidence, but the coincidence is too great – the fact that I started writing songs right when I moved to Nashville. So the answer is yes, but I couldn’t tell you exactly how. I also started hanging out with a lot more songwriters. My community was more instrumental-based in Boston and New York, where I lived before, so there’s definitely the influence of some new friends I made upon moving down here.

You’ve been playing guitar since you were 12. Does it sometimes feel the same today as it did then?

Yeah. I actually started taking lessons again, from a classical guitar teacher, just because I have some time off the road this winter. There’s things I wanted to improve and I decided I needed some help. I’m always trying to improve, always listening to things, and even in the music I love, there’s still the same sense of mystery of, “How did they do that?” The breadth of everything you’re aware of and assimilated expands, but at the same time it’s the same old [thing].

What led you to classical training?

We’re not doing classical music per se, I should clarify. But a lot of the things I was hoping to work on were technical-based, and classical guitar has such a codified, rigorous, technical study and a pedagogy related to technique in a way that other genres don’t necessarily have.

I’ve studied a lot of facets of music, but I’m not formally trained by any stretch. I took some jazz guitar lessons here and there, and I studied composition, but in terms of guitar I’ve never had formal technical training. I felt I was up against some roadblocks and walls with my playing and decided I needed the help of an expert, a teacher. This [teacher] came strongly recommended from my friend Chris Eldridge from Punch Brothers, and it’s been rewarding to expand the technical facility side of things.

You played a Preston Thompson Brazilian Rosewood and your main guitar, a Collings, on Badlettsville. Tell us about those guitars.

I was at Laurie Lewis’s house in Berkeley with Brittany [Haas] from Hawktail. We were in town playing and we were helping her move some furniture. She had this Preston Thompson in the corner that she was trying to sell and I was interested. It’s from 2016. She hand-selected the cut of Brazilian rosewood, a beautiful piece of wood, and had them make it with this wood that she had sourced. I absolutely love it. It’s going to be my main touring guitar for my solo stuff coming up.

The Collings is a D1A mahogany dreadnought that I bought in 2014. It’s perfectly balanced. It almost sounds like an old guitar. The overtones are exactly right. I have a relationship with Collings, but I bought this one at The Music Emporium in Boston because I liked it so much. It’s been my main axe for the last ten years. It’s what I play in Hawktail and what I recorded my last solo record on.

I brought both of those guitars to the studio, in addition to this new Yamaha FG Indian rosewood guitar that I’ve been working with them for the last couple years to promote and develop. They’re great guitars, and it was a fun process getting to work with them and help get the word out. They’re really fantastic.

How do your picking styles with Hawktail, on your solo work, and with other artists come together to create your style?

I write a lot of music, so my identity as a writer maybe puts those things in the same world. So I would say that it’s filtered through the same mind, and also the conceit is that it’s my music. Hawktail is collaborative, obviously, but it’s part of the same musical world.

I’ve always looked up to Norman Blake and Doc Watson. Norman Blake does a lot of different things, but you don’t really think about it. He plays fingerstyle, flatpicking, traditional music, writes his own music, but it all makes sense in the context of his world. I’ve always admired that as an archetype for a folk musician. He’s himself first. He’s not a historian. He picks and chooses things that work in his musical world, as opposed to something outside of himself. He’s an artist that happens to combine all these folk music techniques and sources into something that’s his own.

You’re thought of primarily as an acoustic player, but you also play electric guitar. Which ones?

I grew up playing rock and roll, in addition to bluegrass and things like that. My first music was the Allman Brothers. I got together with this guy in my church and he showed me the twin lead thing. We’d learn the two leads and then we’d switch. That music is near and dear to me – Jimi Hendrix, the Allman Brothers. So I’ve always played a little electric too. I think it’s going to work its way into the next album.

My main electric is an American Standard Telecaster that I swapped out some of the pickups and modified a little bit. I put a higher-output Seymour Duncan pickup in the neck position and I made it a four-way switch, so you have the humbucker setting in addition to the normal three settings.

Also I have a Yamaha Revstar Professional that they just sent that I’ve been having fun with as well.

What do acoustic and electric guitar each bring out in your playing?

An electric allows you the opportunity to fill up a room with less effort. You can saturate a room with sounds with less notes, with less physical effort. An acoustic is a parlor instrument. It’s meant to be played in a small room with your head right up against it. As soon as you stop making noises with your hands, the noise goes away. With electric, a lot of times less is much more, and with acoustic, a medium amount is a medium amount.

With this new record, I’m going to do it with drums, so I’ve been messing around with pickups on electrics and … I don’t want to say effects, but ways to expand the breadth of the sound, get a little bit of that electric expanse, but still treating it like it’s an acoustic. That’s been a fun and interesting pursuit.

How does collaborating with other musicians push you musically?

I have a little home studio setup, but I love going to the studio. I love there being, “This is the time that we’re making the record. What happens, happens.” I think that urgency puts you into a superpower mode. Also the camaraderie. There is truly no substitute for live chemistry. AI can try all it wants, but it will never get it. The communication and sound that happens … there’s so much subconscious and physical factors that are changing constantly. You can’t substitute it.

I love the element of not trying to perfect things, of a record being a snapshot in time. Treating it that way helps you bring your A-game because it’s, “I need to be able to do this at any given time.” It makes you focus on delivering a performance, crossing all your T’s and dotting your I’s, so that it’s all there when it’s time to push “play,” or when it’s time to play with other people, or time to get in front of people.

What snapshot does Badlettsville represent?

The tunes weren’t created or arranged with the idea that they’d be on a record, so in some ways it’s like a snapshot of the live show I’ve been doing over the last couple of years. It’s really organic in that regard.

All these arrangements came about from playing live, specifically with Paul Kowert and Patrick M’Gonigle. Patrick’s been playing a lot of shows with me, and Paul is my BFF partner in crime in Hawktail and beyond, so it represents my relationship with those two guys in a big way.

Also my interests, the fact that there’s cover songs by Randy Newman and Bob Dylan. If I had to pick my two favorite songwriters, it would be them. It’s a snapshot in time of the manner in which I’m playing and thinking about music and the people I’m doing it with right now.


Photo Credit: Cameron Knowler

Larkin Poe Continue to Bloom

Megan and Rebecca Lovell are Larkin Poe, a band that nestles into a myriad of genres – and the sisters are good with that. Their newest full-length album effort, Bloom, out January 24, comes fresh off the heels of a GRAMMY win for Best Contemporary Blues Album with last year’s Blood Harmony. They also landed Duo of the Year at 2024’s Americana Honors & Awards, proving that by digging into their own stories, collaborating even when it isn’t easy, and filtering it all through what the music will feel like on stage, they carve a sound that knocks down doors into multiple genre territories.

Independent spirit permeates everything the sisters do, from the way they write and produce the music to how they map out the aesthetics of how they present the work. Bloom is no exception, finding the women delving deeply into personal and social themes in a way they say they have not before, the result of getting real with each other and learning how to collaborate through the writing process.

In “You Are the River,” we find them contemplating a common theme throughout the album, that sometimes the best and the worst are married inextricably and tie us to each other.

The sand in the oyster
The pressure on the coal
The sum of the parts is greater than the whole
A chain of reactions
A butterfly’s wing
My hand holding yours to form another link

For our Artist of the Month interview, BGS spoke with Megan and Rebecca via Zoom from their respective homes in Nashville. The Lovells discuss the challenges and joy of writing together, the evolution of their relationship with their fans, and the pressures of public life in the age of social media.

You all have been lauded in multiple genres, from blues to Americana. You are also identified as a rock and roll band and here we are talking on a bluegrass outlet. What do you think about genres in general, and do you consider them at all during creation of the music?

Rebecca Lovell: One of the greatest pieces of advice that we’ve ever received was from Mr. Elvis Costello. Many, many years ago, he advised us to defy the temptation to put ourselves into a genre box. He has lived up to that creed himself, having made bluegrass, gospel, country, punk, rock records, operatic records, and musical records.

For us, having been able to sample all the different facets of who we are as people and music lovers allows us to connect with the people who are consuming our music. I think increasingly, all of us consume music from a wide range of genres. I do think that that’s one gift of streaming platforms. The very barest of silver lining is that it opens up your mind to the fact that there is great music to be found in every genre, and I think genre-blending is the way of the future.

So we call what we do roots rock and roll, which is intentionally very vague because we get great joy out of letting the many flavors of our musical heritage be represented. That allowed us this past summer to play at a bluegrass festival and then play at a world music festival, play at a pop festival, a rock festival, a country festival, and it keeps it fresh. It keeps it exciting.

You’ve won awards in multiple genres, especially in the past few years. I was curious: are awards ever a motivator for you? Do you ever think about them when you’re creating?

Megan Lovell: Winning awards is a very new thing for us. We’ve always made music with a different focus, because we’ve always felt that the real reward is people being willing to stand in line or travel and buy a ticket and wait at the venue for us to come and play. So that’s always been our focus. Not to say that winning an award isn’t a cool experience, and definitely something we’re super appreciative of, but I don’t think it’s something we consider when we’re writing or recording.

We’re definitely thinking about our live show. We’re really writing intentionally, thinking about how it will feel when we’re touring. Because that’s what we do most of the year is tour.

Tell me about your writing process, both when it’s just you two as sisters, bandmates, and business owners and then also when you bring in other folks to collaborate.

RL: I think Bloom represents a really cool point in our evolution as creative collaborators. Since the ground up, Megan and I have been projecting together since we were little kids. It’s felt like [there was] a lot of foreshadowing in our childhood that we would work together, because we’ve always been so collaborative. But songwriting was one of the last holdouts of our working relationship that there was friction in. I’m sure it has to do with the fact that there is a piece of this sibling rivalry thing. But getting older, being more comfortable with and accepting your flaws, and being able to then have the self-confidence in a writing session to throw out ideas – that inherently, because they are ideas, they’re not fully fledged. They can be misunderstood or sound stupid.

I think we’d had some writing experiences in the past where we had not had the best of times. It just felt like a lot of false starts. We typically had written separately, but something clicked in the last 6 to 8 months leading up to the writing process for Bloom. We made the commitment to and had many conversations about writing the record together, and I really think you can hear the progress that we made as a team in manifesting that true creative collaboration. I think the songs are so much better.

There was a real commitment to being very intentional with everything that we said on this record. Being a songwriter and a performer, there is always this temptation to self-aggrandize, or build a character for yourself, or be the movie theatrical version of who you are and what your life feels like. I specifically have written from that space in the past and listening back, we wanted to do something different this time. That was our consensus. We went through every song, every lyric on this record with a fine-tooth comb, to ensure that real vulnerable authenticity was represented in the lyrics. That took a lot of courage and I am really proud of us for making that commitment, and being able to actually pull it off with this album.

ML: You know, what’s funny is, when we were thinking about bringing in a third collaborator, did we go outside? No, we actually end up working with Rebecca’s husband [Tyler Bryant] a lot. So we have that sibling dynamic and the husband-and-wife dynamic. We really like to complicate things.

RL: There is a certain shorthand that exists when someone knows you really well, when you know someone really well, and especially between Megan and myself – and also Tyler. We all have very closely mirrored musical upbringings and we have a lot of kindred spirit energy in the records that we’re all referencing for the production and the songwriting.

It does create this space, when handled correctly, for being really truthful, being really genuine, and allowing yourself to actually go to those spaces. I was the big crybaby on this record. I was weeping in these co-writes, like inconsolable. But that allows you to really channel some specific, detailed stuff from your own experience. The more specific you’re able to get with yourself, the more likely it is you’re going to be able to connect with other people. And that is our biggest motivator.

That’s so wonderful. Speaking of, what is your relationship with your fans like? And do you see it evolving as you change your process and become more open that way?

ML: We have a lot of musically deep music lovers and they’re really cool, knowledgeable people. I think because we’ve kind of always been a little bit left of center, we’ve attracted a cool audience; people who appreciate the do-it-yourself attitude and people who just really want to support a grassroots effort.

We’ve had people who have been following now for decades, which is strange to be able to say, but they’ve really stuck with it. Of course, those relationships do shift over time. And certainly through the pandemic. That was a huge shift in the way that we related to people, because we were using the internet to connect. We had these pretty spiritual conversations with people that I’m not sure would have happened if we hadn’t been online and talking all of the time. We came out of the pandemic with a lot more intimate fans.

Can you talk about the recording process? Where did you cut this record? How did you decide to bring in your husband as co-producer?

RL: I do think the pandemic played a big role in the shift of Megan and myself bringing Tyler Bryant in as a co-producer because, for the last 10 years, we’ve been self-producing our records. At Megan’s behest as the big sister, she was like, “It’s time. We need to self-produce our records.” That was very scary at first, but we got our feet wet and got our bearings.

Ultimately, we’re so grateful that we made that shift, because it allowed us to hold the reins in the studio and steer the music in the direction that we wanted to go. Through the pandemic, we built a state of the art recording studio in the basement of our home, and we wanted to make records. We didn’t want to hold up our creative process. We were still distancing in our bubble. But it was the group of us, and by necessity we started recording in that home studio; we’re kind of blown away at the sounds we could get. There was an effortless nature of being in a really safe home environment.

When Megan and I tour with our band, we’re a four-piece, so we set up as a four-piece in the studio and went for it. Hopefully, that will allow our records to age gracefully because they are very true and very stripped down to who we are as a band.

ML: But honestly, when we were going to studios, we were experiencing a lot of Keurig machines and we like really nice espresso machines. So we made the decision to stay home.

Let’s talk about the song “Pearls.” It seems to be built around the idea of maintaining a sense of self while you’re navigating the world that’s constantly reflecting you in such a public way. I wanted to know, as family and as bandmates and business partners, how do you navigate the ever-changing and tumultuous world of being in the public eye, especially in the age of social media?

RL: I think it’s one of the hardest things. It is so challenging to exist in a space where you need to have just enough ego to get on stage and perform. But you can’t identify too much with that ego, because then you’re creating a very limited, narrow lane for yourself. But don’t have too big of an ego, because then you’re going to be a bitch and nobody’s gonna like you. So it’s this weird straddling of all these different elements of our identities. And then we’re having to do that together.

With so much shared experience between us, Megan knows the true me. I think that you and I have cultivated a great deal of grace, allowing that true nature to evolve. Who we were when we were 5, is simultaneously the same as who we are now, and also very, very different. Allowing that leeway for ourselves is only something that we’ve started really engaging with in the last 5 years. Right, Megan?

ML: Yeah, we’ve had a lot of conversations over the last couple of years. We are coming to more of an understanding of where the tension was coming from, from who we are as people, and then who we expect ourselves to be on stage. Then also that sort of external pressure that everybody has that we also felt from a very young age from the people around us. There are people in the industry who expect us to be something and then fans who come and meet us. There are a lot of opinions flying around, but you really don’t have to take anything on board that you don’t want to.

Whether it’s that one negative comment on a post that you for some reason have to obsess about, even though there are 99% positive comments. You just can’t get that negative comment out of your head and I don’t even know if I trust that person’s opinion. It’s a good reminder to just steer your own ship.

You mentioned different kinds of festivals, different genres of festivals. When you think about your tour, what kind of stage do you feel the most at home on? Is it a festival? Is it a club or theater? Is it a genre of festival?

ML: 2025 is going to be a big year for touring. Last year we played a lot of festivals. This year we are playing a lot of headline shows and we’re going to start in the U.S. and go through the spring. Then we’re gonna do a big fall European tour. And it’s shaping up to be really, really amazing. We have a really substantial following over in Europe. We have done a lot of work over there. There’s some bucket list venues that we’re gonna play.

I love a headline show. You know, where the place is packed, and there’s that energy in the audience, and everybody knows the lyrics. There’s nothing that beats that vibe and you can find that anywhere. You can find it in a tiny rock club to an arena or a festival. The important thing is that people are engaged from the stage to the audience, and vice versa.

Same for you, Rebecca?

RL: Yeah, I agree. I love a headline date, I think, especially because Megan and I are album people. We like a body of work. I like to sit down and listen to an artist’s album from the beginning to the end to try and get a sense of where they were at when they were writing the record. Megan and I, when we make our records, we obsess about the content, about the story arc, about the sequencing of the record, about the packaging, about the font.

And I think we get that same kind of energy in a headline show because we’re thinking about the colors of lights and which of the songs we are going to include and how much of the old material. We really want to have that space with the music and the emotional content of the music, and you feel that energy, and you feel that resonance. If everything goes right and everyone has their hearts open, you gain access to this portal where I think a lot of transformative change can happen between humans. And that’s what we seek.


Photo courtesy of the artist.

You Gotta Hear This: New Music From Seldom Scene, Swearingen & Kelli, and More

You’ve reached the end of the week! For a little treat, how about a few brand new songs and music videos? You Gotta Hear This!

If you’re looking for bluegrass, we’ve certainly got it this week– Chris Jones & The Night Drivers share their first recording of a Tom T. Hall original, “Mama Bake a Pie (Daddy Kill a Chicken),” since their dear friend and Bluegrass Hall of Famer passed away a few years ago. Plus, bluegrass legends Seldom Scene preview their upcoming album, Remains to Be Scene, with a new single, “Last of the Steam-Powered Trains.” And, wrapping up our bluegrass trifecta, banjo player Max Wareham pays tribute to NHL team the Boston Bruins with an excellent shredding instrumental tune, “The Black & Gold.”

From elsewhere across the roots music landscape, duo Swearingen & Kelli offer “Break Me Down,” a powerful acoustic number with plenty of grit, slide guitar, and blues influence. Plus, don’t miss Justin Wells’ new music video for “Sad, Tomorrow,” a contemplative slow burn of a song that focuses on mental health, melancholy, and forging ahead.

It’s a lovely collection of new roots music to take you into the weekend, and you know what we think – You Gotta Hear This!

Chris Jones & the Night Drivers, “Mama Bake a Pie (Daddy Kill a Chicken)”

Artist: Chris Jones & The Night Drivers
Hometown: Nashville, Tennessee
Song: “Mama Bake a Pie (Daddy Kill a Chicken)”
Release Date: January 17, 2025
Label: Mountain Home Music Company

In Their Words: “This is an old and lesser-known Vietnam War-era song of Tom T. Hall’s and the first song of his I’ve recorded since his passing a few years ago. I think I didn’t feel ready to until now. He had a unique ability to incorporate bits of humor into a sad story, and this is definitely one of those. This song is vivid and poignant in a way that is vintage Tom T. I was going to record this several years ago, but when I brought it up to Tom T. and Dixie, they wrote ‘Hero in Harlan’ that very day to give me something new to do instead.” – Chris Jones


Seldom Scene, “Last of the Steam-Powered Trains”

Artist: The Seldom Scene
Hometown: Bethesda, Maryland
Song: “Last of the Steam-Powered Train”
Album: Remains to Be Scene
Release Date: January 14, 2025 (single); March 14, 2025 (album)
Label: Smithsonian Folkways

In Their Words: “This song was written by Ray Douglas Davies and recorded by the rock group The Kinks in the 1960s. The Scene has always looked outside the box for material, and we thought this one fit the bill.” – Lou Reid


Swearingen & Kelli, “Break Me Down”

Artist: Swearingen & Kelli
Hometown: Nashville, Tennessee
Song: “Break Me Down”
Release Date: January 24, 2025
Label: Gone Rogue Music

In Their Words: “I wrote this song a few years back, but it never really got its due. I was also really obsessed with slide guitar at that time. It’s a little gritty, and when Jayne added her vocals on top, I thought, ‘Ok, this is exactly what this song needs.’ I love the discovery process of writing and recording. Sometimes it takes a while to find the exact combination of sounds with an arrangement to tell the story the way you really want to.” – AJ Swearingen

Track Credits:
AJ Swearingen – Guitars, drums, percussion, bass, vocals
Jayne Kelli – Vocals, organ


Max Wareham, “The Black & Gold”

Artist: Max Wareham
Hometown: Boston, Massachusetts
Song: “The Black & Gold”
Album: DAGGOMIT!
Release Date: January 17, 2025 (single); February 21, 2025 (album)

In Their Words: “Sports and music might have more in common than we think – this tune is a tribute to the Boston Bruins’ legendary ’22-’23 season, during which they broke most NHL records. Musically, the A part was inspired by Bill Emerson and the B part is a nod to the style of banjo legend, Rudy Lyle.” – Max Wareham

Track Credits:
Max Wareham – Banjo
Laura Orshaw – Fiddle
Chris Henry – Mandolin
Chris Eldridge – Guitar
Mike Bub – Bass
Larry Atamanuik – Snare


Justin Wells, “Sad, Tomorrow”

Artist: Justin Wells
Hometown: Lexington, Kentucky
Song: “Sad, Tomorrow”
Album: Cynthiana
Release Date: January 15, 2025 (single); February 20, 2025 (album)

In Their Words: “The title of the song comes from a story Nicole Kidman told Marc Maron on Maron’s podcast, WTF. Kidman talked about how she often took her characters home with her, acting in front of a mirror. Her young child had grown accustomed to seeing and hearing her mother work on these roles. A day or so after Kidman’s father died, she was grieving at home, and her kid heard this. Her kid asked ‘Mom, why are you crying?’

“‘Well, I’m crying because I’m sad, because Papaw died.’

“Her child, accustomed to seeing her Mom go in and out of emotions while working on her acting, replied, ‘Well, are you gonna be sad tomorrow?’

“I wanted to write this song about that feeling of helplessness you have when a friend is struggling with depression, when the only thing you can do sometimes is just be there. I ended up asking my dear friend Adam Lee to help me finish it, which was considerably apropos, because we’d both been each other’s therapist through lockdown, when we were kinda losing our minds. Considering all of the above, the song carries an even bigger weight because it’s one of the last songs that my friend Robby Cosenza played on before he passed. Robby was a Lexington icon, playing on hundreds of albums including a Ringo Starr record as well as my debut album, Dawn in the Distance, and he was instrumental in helping me get my legs under me when I started my solo career.” – Justin Wells


Photo Credit: Seldom Scene by Jeromie Stephens; Swearingen & Kelli by Daniel Shippy.

Combining Classical and Bluegrass, Scroggins & Rose Improvise and Inspire on ‘Speranza’

Acutely expressive, profoundly innovative, and ceaselessly gripping, Scroggins & Rose are masters of sonic storytelling. The project consists of Alisa Rose (violin) and Tristan Scroggins (mandolin), both virtuosic talents with a sprawling list of credits each in their own right. While Scroggins primarily forays in the bluegrass sphere and Rose spent her musical upbringing largely studying classical music, the two alchemize a blend of genres to achieve their distinct style.

The duo’s third collection, Speranza, relays a moving dialogue between fiddle and mandolin, drawing upon a diverse range of musical influences to weave together a thoughtful assortment of colors and textures. Initial ideas for the project began back in the quarantine days of 2020, and Speranza – which consists of six immersive instrumentals, a dynamic assortment of original and familiar tunes – now arrives nearly five years later in a moment where its intonations of hope feel just as crucial.

BGS had the pleasure of sitting down with Scroggins & Rose to discuss their origins, influences, and the percolation of their most recent release.

Congratulations on the album release! To start us off, could you talk about how the two of you came into playing together?

Alisa Rose: We both taught at NimbleFingers, which is a camp in British Columbia.

Tristan Scroggins: It’s a bluegrass week of workshops that has been going on for a couple decades. I always describe it on stage as “sleepaway camp for adults who want to learn how to play the banjo and drink.”

AR: There’s a really nice feel at that camp. Tristan was in a band with his dad at the time, so I did some shows with them there. Then one night, I remember the two of us improvising by a picnic table and we just had a really nice musical chemistry where we follow each other’s ideas around. Immediately it felt like, “Oh, this is a good musical fit.”

TS: At that time I was playing with my dad in Jeff Scroggins & Colorado, and we were touring full-time. So I just ended up in California a lot and I would tack on extra time to come hang out with Alisa. And we started writing music and playing shows. I live in Nashville now, so these days it’s more of a deliberate effort when I come out to collaborate.

At this point you’ve been able to flesh out that musical chemistry over the course of three collections. What would you say unites your musicality or differentiates it?

AR: I think when we improvise, it’s playful and creative and experimental – we’re not afraid to leave what may be reasonable behind, and sometimes that takes us to good places, and sometimes we fall on our faces. We also have a similar sense of rhythm and how we respond to it. It allows us to improvise freely because we feel rhythm in the same way. So that’s where we unify, but we have really different musical backgrounds.

Could you tell me more about that?

AR: Sure. Growing up I played a little bit of fiddle, but mostly I grew up in the classical world. I was a Suzuki kid, so I learned by ear initially, which I think has allowed me to play a lot of different music, but I was learning primarily classical violin growing up. Tristan grew up very much in the bluegrass world, and I’ve studied bluegrass and I’ve played in bluegrass bands, but I still have a different sense of melody and expressiveness. I think a lot about how to make music really expressive emotionally and I play with timings – those two things are less common in the bluegrass world.

TS: I think it’s been really valuable for me, generally musically and especially in the context of this project, to be exposed to those different ways of thinking about playing. I grew up playing with my dad, and in mandolin contests just learning how to play bluegrass, which does instigate this question of, is bluegrass expressive or not? I think it is sort of, but it’s so different from how classical music is expressive or how jazz is expressive. I’ve had to work a lot on navigating that challenge, because for me, I didn’t go to school at all for music. So much of how I play is very instinctual and this project often has me figuring out how to adapt those instincts in order to have more options, especially since there’s just two of us. We have to really be on the same page a lot of the time and work together to fill in spaces or leave holes where we want them to be – they have to line up, and it’s really obvious if they don’t.

Speranza does an excellent job at combining those classical and bluegrass sensibilities to achieve expression while still leaning into roots-like melodies. Can you tell me about the impetus behind your latest release? What drove you to create this third collection?

AR: So our first collection, Grana, was very improvised and we were a new duo. Basically we set out to make a demo – we wanted to record, like, three tunes and get some gigs. We got an Airbnb, rented some recording equipment, had our awesome engineer friend set it up for us, and we just hit record over and over for a weekend. By the end it seemed like it was an album, so that’s how that one came to be. Very improvised, very sort of exploratory. There were like 1000 takes of everything. Well, not actually 1000 because we didn’t have that long, but there was definitely a sort of trial and error of figuring out what we wanted to create.

And then for the second album, Curios, we worked out everything. We rearranged everything and really sought to emphasize the strength of melodies. A lot of that album was about making the melodies come out. To me, it’s also an exploration of different sound colors. We worked with Wes Corbett on that one and he helped bring that out in that album. We really tried to shape each tune into a little story, so they’re more composed. Some have solo sections, but they’re more like little pieces and arches – I mean, I would call them miniatures, but really they’re sort of standard length for bluegrass. In the classical world they might be considered miniatures– little, crafted, sparkly gems.

But we put [Curios] out in the pandemic, which was very anticlimactic. We were supposed to have a release tour and we worked really hard on that album for a long time. We had received a great grant from FreshGrass and were able to do a lot of things in the way we wanted. We worked with Dave Sinko as our engineer, who was awesome, and recorded in this pretty church in Nashville with Egyptian stained glass.

So the third one, Speranza, is more organic. We’ve grown as a duo in terms of creating, so we decided that instead of writing a whole record of stuff we would write and record as we went, or write and improvise as we went, and do some of both. So I believe this album combines the freedom of the first album and the shape and craft of the second album. And the material for Speranza came out of the pandemic – that was such a crazy time. Life seems sort of normal now, but a lot of the tunes started in that time and then we finished them once we could get back together.

TS: I think that in a lot of ways Speranza feels very shaped by the reality of the pandemic, 2020, things getting shut down – the first stuff that we worked on remotely, because we had to. It feels wild that we’ve been working on this for years now. It’s funny, similarly to the pandemic, it doesn’t feel like that was five years ago. We recorded it over different sessions and then mixed it over different sessions.

AR: “Pandemic Buddy” and “Reaper” are the darkest ones – those I did write in like that first month of the pandemic, but I just came up with the beginning idea and then as a duo, over two or three or four visits, we finished writing the pieces together. We’re often coming up with ideas, kind of sitting with them, and then recording voice memos and listening to them. It takes us a fair amount of time to do it and we really flesh out the arrangement and how our parts fit together in person. That tends to be pretty time-intensive. Basically we’re writing the pieces, but we’re memorizing them at the same time, with space for improv – everything is fluid, but the basic composition is pretty worked out. So our compositional process is pretty spacious and lengthy.

What was inspiring you during the composition of these pieces? Any art that you were ingesting or other cultural touchstones of during that moment?

AR: In the beginning of the pandemic, Tristan did a tune challenge, which is where some of these songs started. There was a word prompt every day to write a tune about. For example, “Reaper” began with the prompt “death.” “Pandemic Buddy” was for the prompt “friend.” It was a really nice way to channel energy at the beginning of the pandemic, when everything was crazy. I spent hours every day writing these tunes and trying to get a good video, and I think I got a little better at them as I went.

TS: I mean, it’s sort of an obvious one, but we talk a lot about Mike Marshall and Darol Anger. It’s the same mando and violin pairing, but I love listening to them and listening to other people who do this kind of new acoustic music/composing. I spend a lot of time in Nashville with Wes Corbett. Wes produced our second album, but he’s also a friend of mine, and I helped him with publicity for his first album, which has a lot of really beautifully written instrumental pieces.

It’s interesting – we spent so much time working on this in chunks and that was a very different part of my brain than the part of that was working very hard on, like, Texas-style fiddle tunes. Those weren’t crossing over, exactly. I think rather than being influenced by something specific, it’s more that I try to cultivate something within myself by listening to both stuff I like and new stuff. Absorbing all of that, letting it ferment inside, and then figuring out how to express that all together, rather than trying to emulate any one thing.

AR: I tend to think that when composing, everything you’ve ever listened to, everything that ever resonated with you and definitely anything you’ve ever played with your body or had in your body – whether you danced to it, or you physically played it – is a part of your musical sensibility. I don’t know what I was listening to when I was writing these tunes, but I definitely love Darol Anger and Mike Marshall. I also love Schubert string quartets, I love Beethoven piano sonatas, and I love Debussy piano music – I love a lot of different kinds of music, and I think all of that is part of what comes out. That’s all part of what’s in my head when I’m conceiving of new material.


Photo Credit: Lenny Gonzalez

Basic Folk: Lutalo

In 2024, Vermont’s Lutalo released their debut album, The Academy. In this episode of Basic Folk, they share the profound influence of their father, whose deep love for artistry and creativity laid the foundation for Lutalo’s musical path. We dive into the broad variety of their influences, from underground hip-hop to African drumming classes, each shaping their unique sound and approach to music. Lutalo’s candid reflections on their experiences in a private prep school reveal the complexities of navigating expectations and identity as a scholarship student, offering insights into the pressures and opportunities that come with such an environment. We also get a glimpse into their life in Vermont, where they find peace and grounding in a tiny house on a mountain, learning carpentry, and building a future studio.

LISTEN: APPLE • SPOTIFY • AMAZON • MP3

Lutalo’s music speaks for itself. It feels like there’s a new generation of folk artists coming out, with creators like Lutalo who are dedicated to crafting new a type of folk – even if their music is genre-agnostic. Lutalo is making really cool songs, they’re making waves, and could be compared to so many legendary artists and bands. You can’t quite put your finger on what their sound is, but they are a heavy-hitting songwriter and we think they’re going to be huge.


Photo Credit: Courtesy of the artist.

Watch A New Live Video of Tommy Emmanuel Performing “Gdansk” and “Tall Fiddler”

In a black ruffled shirt on a brightly colored stage, Tommy Emmanuel sits with his guitar and, like always, amazes the audience with his music. His latest video, “Gdansk/Tall Fiddler (Live at The Sydney Opera House)” is an upbeat and beautiful showcase of his songs that demonstrates the excitement and ease Emmanuel brings to his music. The medley is a single from his forthcoming album, Live at the Sydney Opera House, out March 21.

The clip starts off with a new original, “Gdansk,” named after Gdansk, Poland, where Emmanuel wrote the tune. It’s soft yet energetic, emulating the feeling of calm ocean waves on a sunny day that at the same time brings energy and joy to the music. The peaceful and uplifting melody might make you want to get up and dance.

“Gdansk” then beautifully leads into another tune of Emmanuel’s entitled “Tall Fiddler,” a number off Emmanuel’s 2006 release Endless Road that was inspired by the great fiddler Byron Berline. With fast licks and a rock and roll feel, he effortlessly transitions between a bluegrass fiddle tune and a heavy, rocking vibe.

It’s easy to see the excitement Emmanuel brings to playing and performing. The way he just “goes for it” is utterly inspiring – you can see how the music takes over him as he becomes the vessel that brings it into fruition.


Photo Credit: Alysse Gafkjen

How to Help Musicians and Artists Impacted by the Los Angeles Wildfires

Even before The Bluegrass Situation was its own entity, pre-dating the existence of this website, we’ve been proud to call Los Angeles home. From our co-founder Ed Helms’ original shows at Largo, or our first, homespun blog, Bluegrass LA, or our debut festival, the LA Bluegrass Situation, to today – boosting and presenting shows across Los Angeles County, building our new variety show, the Good Country Goodtime, and beyond, staying connected with the myriad of folks who make this place so special and vital – Los Angeles has been the perfect cradle for growing our worldwide roots music community.

Last week, we watched anxiously with the rest of the world as an rare wind event in Southern California turned into one of the most devastating series of wildfires in the nation’s history. Many of these fires are still burning, causing the destruction of thousands of homes, structures, and businesses and torching countless acres, so many precious landmarks, and irreplaceable memories. While we are incredibly grateful our team members who are based in Los Angeles are safe and sound, we’re acutely aware that so many of our neighbors, loved ones, and community members have not been so lucky.

We spoke to musician, singer-songwriter, and Mipso member Jacob Sharp – who recently moved to Altadena – about his own experiences over the last week, as his and his partner Cate’s neighborhood burned down around their home.

“I’m from a tiny town the western North Carolina foothills,” Sharp explains via email, amidst phone calls with FEMA and filing insurance claims. “I’m obsessed with cities with expansive music communities only rivaled by their even more expansive food scenes. I couldn’t believe it when I found out there are tiny towns in the foothills of the San Gabriel mountains on the edge of America’s most-difficult-to-navigate city where the true wildness of nature meets the beauty of urban chaos. Altadena felt like the best kept secret in California.

“We moved out to the hills a few months ago inspired by the current creative community that calls it home, by the insane music and food hangs that casually happen here on a daily basis because of it, by its historically diverse intermingling of racial worlds (there are more historic Black homeowners in Altadena than basically anywhere else in LA), and by the ease with which you can fade from the urban landscape into some of the best hiking in Southern California. (We have friends who see a bear in their yard literally every day).”

 

View this post on Instagram

 

A post shared by Los Angeles Times (@latimes)

“It was everything I’d ever wanted in a community,” Sharp continues. “I’d drive back from other neighborhoods and feel my shoulders relax as the mountains came into view. Today I drove back to our still-standing but currently-unlivable home crying, seeing those same mountains now devoid of their greenery and smoldering in the hazy morning light and replaying the sequence of events that altered our little world forever.

“We could see the Eaton fire from our backyard well before the emergency notifications came rolling in. We grabbed a go-bag with a headlamp, change of clothes, toiletries, all my instruments, some comfort items for the pup, and we rolled down the hill towards safety. We spent the night in the downtown Pasadena Hilton, where we were cruelly upgraded to a ‘mountain view’ room perfectly situated for watching our neighborhood burn to the ground overnight.

“My partner Cate is a therapist. Between her community of therapists and mine of musicians we have only two friends out of 16 who live in the neighborhood that still have a home. And, we have our health. We are so, so lucky. But with smoke damage making the house currently unlivable and the National Guard standing watch on every cross street starting half a block from us, we’re realizing that whether your house is standing or not, we all have one loss in common: our beautiful community.

“We had space in our car as we evacuated, but no desire to stick around and load more,” Sharp describes leaving behind so many of their earthly possessions. “It was clarifying how easy it was to say goodbye to our physical things. They’re all replaceable.”

“Altadena was such a magic community we delayed our move back to the East Coast by a few years so we could have a kid here. We knew our neighbors, saw friends on every walk, and if you forgot your wallet while picking up coffee you could always pay them next time, because they knew you and knew you’d be back. It was that type of place. After traveling the world on tour the past 13 years wondering at every stop along the way, ‘Could I call this place home?’ I’m realizing what’s irreplaceable is having finally found that place. We’ll find our magic again, but it’s going to be a long road. There are so, so many people who could use your help if you have resources to give – below you can find some I’m giving to.”

Los Angeles is a city of makers. Of creators and dreamers, of actors, singers, writers, and poets. So many of those directly impacted by the fearsome power of these fires have been folks in our immediate roots music circles. From Altadena and Pasadena to Pacific Palisades and Malibu, this disaster has not discriminated. Whether well-known and well-loved superstars or pickers we know from the neighborhood jam, publicists and publishers and agents and managers alike; the flames burned through homes, livelihoods, histories, and futures with zero regard for name or notoriety.

Luckily, that same collective of creators and makers are a vibrant and robust community – and just as we watched the fires destroy, we’re watching the people of Los Angeles rebuild in real time. There’s much to be done and there are seemingly endless needs to meet, but solidarity, mutual aid, and togetherness are not in short supply.

“It’s hard to put into words what I and so many other Angelenos are feeling right now,” BGS executive director Amy Reitnouer Jacobs shares. “It waffles between shock, anxiety, despair, and exhaustion as we watch our friends lose everything and our city burn. But amidst those feelings of grief, there is also an immense welling of hope. People are showing up for each other in unprecedented ways.”

That’s what it’s all about. As the climate crisis worsens and we re-enter an exceedingly unpredictable political reality, this kind of community action will become more and more vital. We’ve seen this is true over the past decade, through periods of racial reckonings, police violence, unrest, and growing political activism. Community-centered collective action is what will get us through. In bluegrass, in roots music, and beyond.

“I have never been so proud of this place and have never loved this city as much as I do right now,” Reitnouer Jacobs continues. “Los Angeles will always be home for me, for BGS, and for our amazing musical community.”

Below, we’ve collected a few resources from our artistic communities in Los Angeles and from mutual aid and community organizations working on the ground in southern California. If you’re able, we encourage you to donate, to volunteer, to show up however you can and whenever you can for our friends and fellow roots music lovers who have had their lives permanently altered by these wildfires.

All we have is each other, but when we support and care for each other – no matter what – that fact is always enough.

Support the Music Community

Local on-the-ground organizers have compiled THIS LIST of fundraising pages, resources, and urgent needs for musicians, instrumentalists, producers, and artists in the Los Angeles area. As of this writing, it has raised more than $6,000,000 across its various fundraisers and donation pages. Hundreds of families and individuals have been affected and are listed in the spreadsheet. If you’re looking for a way to directly support, this is a great collection of options.

Additionally, you can find a directory of fundraising pages for folks impacted by the Eaton Fire here. Plus, you can find a directory of Black families fundraising in the wake of the fires here.

Need support? Each of these directories includes instructions for submitting your own fundraiser, if applicable.
Giving support? Find countless fundraisers and offer direct support here, here, and here.

LA Times Compiles Resources

 

View this post on Instagram

 

A post shared by Los Angeles Times (@latimes)

The LA Times has put together a lengthy and exhaustive list of local organizations working on fire relief. From dog and pet rescue orgs to the American Red Cross to the California Fire Foundation. There are plenty of options and plenty of missions to support.

Guitar Center Foundation – Grants for LA Fires

The Guitar Center Foundation has announced that they will accept applications from musicians to replace gear and instruments lost to the fire:

“Have you lost instruments and gear?” The foundation asks via social media. “If you’ve been impacted by this week’s fires, please visit our website for information and to request instrument replacement assistance. The Guitar Center Music Foundation is committed to supporting our music community in times of need.”

Those impacted by the disaster will be able to apply for grants of replacement instruments and gear until February 28, 2025.

Need support? Get more info and apply for replacement gear here.
Giving support? Donate to fund these grants and the foundation here.

Mutual Aid LA

Mutual Aid LA has been collating and disseminating shelters, resources, and relief programs for folks actively in crisis and for folks looking for a way to give and help. You can find their spreadsheet of resources here, but you can also find more information and learn how to participate in mutual aid on their website.

Need support? Find resources here.
Giving support? Learn more here and donate here.

MusiCares

 

View this post on Instagram

 

A post shared by MusiCares (@musicares)

MusiCares has long been an indispensable program of the Recording Academy with a mission of supporting music industry professionals in crisis or in periods of hardship. They’ve already begun dispensing emergency funds to music industry folks in need, as well as collecting donations specifically to support those impacted by the fires. You can donate to support MusiCares here. You can find ways to get help from MusiCares here.

Need support? Apply for emergency aid here.
Giving support? Donate to help fund fire relief MusiCares grants here.

Sweet Relief Musicians Fund

Sweet Relief Musicians Fund is a non-profit founded in the ’90s that provides financial assistance to musicians and industry professionals who are struggling to make ends meet. They’ve already begun accepting donations and applications following the LA fires.

Need support? Submit your application here.
Giving support? Donate to Sweet Relief here.

Entertainment Community Fund

Geared more towards actors, performers, and film industry and entertainment workers the Entertainment Community Fund (formerly The Actors Fund) has compiled a list of resources and organizations working on fire relief here. Entertainment professionals impacted by the wildfires can apply now for financial assistance and through the ECF can already access a variety of programs and aid.

Need support? Apply here.
Giving support? Donate here.


Photos by Amy Reitnouer Jacobs.