Marlon Williams’ ‘Te Whare Tīwekaweka’ Is a Homecoming Like Never Before

Posted on by Justin Hiltner

When he was in his early twenties, Marlon Williams watched a series of major earthquakes flatten Ōtautahi/Christchurch, the largest city in Te Waipounamu (the South Island of New Zealand). In the wake of that tragedy, the Māori New Zealand artist ascended onto the national and later international stage as a singer-songwriter, guitarist, and actor with a million-dollar smile and a golden, heaven-sent voice.

As a narrative device, it would be easy to enshrine his experiences during the earthquakes as a baptism by fire, a star emerging from the flames. However, as he puts it, “It’s tempting to say that experience fostered the folk scene here, but we’d been building something for a while before the earthquakes. When you look backwards through the haze of time, it’s easy to start telling yourself stories.” It’s a fitting reminder that things are never as simple as they look on the surface.

Now, fifteen years on, Williams is on the brink of showing us how deep things go with the release of his fourth solo album, Te Whare Tīwekaweka (The Messy House). In a similar tradition to the outdoorsy, range-roving sensibilities of his previous three records, the album represents an antipodean blend of country and western, folk, rock and roll, and mid-to-late 20th-century pop, connecting the musical dots between America, Australia, and Aotearoa (New Zealand).

This time around, however, Williams – a member of the Kāi Tahu and Ngāi Tai iwi (Māori tribes) – made the decision to step away from English and sing in his indigenous tongue, te reo Māori. Therein, his guiding light was a traditional Māori whakatauki (proverb), “Ko te reo Māori, he matapihi ki te ao Māori,” which translates into “The Māori language is a window to the Māori world.” As displayed by the album’s lilting lead singles, “Aua Atu Rā,” “Rere Mai Ngā Rau,” and “Kāhore He Manu E” (which features the New Zealand art-pop star Lorde), he’s onto something special.

During the reflective, soul-searching process of recording Te Whare Tīwekaweka, Williams found solidarity in his co-writer KOMMI (Kāi Tahu, Te-Āti-Awa), his longtime touring band The Yarra Benders, the He Waka Kōtuia singers, his co-producer Mark “Merk” Perkins, Lorde, and the community of Ōhinehou/Lyttelton, a small port town just northwest of Ōtautahi, where he recuperates between touring and recording projects.

From his early days performing flawless Hank Williams covers to crafting his own signature hits, such as “Dark Child,” “What’s Chasing You,” and “My Boy,” Williams’ talents have seen him tour with Bruce Springsteen and the Eagles, entertain audiences at Newport Folk Festival and Austin City Limits, and appear on Later with Jools Holland, Conan, NPR’s Tiny Desk, and more. Along the way, he’s landed acting roles in a range of Australian, New Zealand, and American film and television productions, including The Beautiful Lie, The Rehearsal, A Star Is Born, True History of The Gang, and Sweet Tooth.

From the bottom of the globe to the silver screen, it’s been a remarkable journey. The thing about journeys, though, is they often lead to coming home, and Te Whare Tīwekaweka is a homecoming like never before.

In early March, BGS spoke with Williams while he was on a promo run in Melbourne, Australia.

Congratulations on Te Whare Tīwekaweka. When I played it earlier, I thought about how comfortable and confident you sound. Tell me about the first time you listened to the album after finishing it.

Marlon Williams: It was that feeling of nervously stepping back from the details and seeing what the building looks like from the street. I felt really pleased with how structurally sound it was.

What do you think are the factors that allow you to inhabit the music to that level?

I’ve spent my entire life singing Māori music. No matter my shortcomings in speaking the language fluently and having full comprehension in that world, the pure physiology of singing in te reo Māori has been my way in. There’s a joy and a naturalness that has always been there. That gave me the confidence to take the plunge and really enjoy singing those vowel sounds and tuning on those consonants.

We’ve talked about this before. Part of what facilitated this was singing waiata (songs) written in te reo Māori by the late great Dr. Hirini Melbourne when you were in primary school (elementary school). 

Those songs are so simple and inviting, especially for children. They really help you get into the language on the ground level. A lot of what he did for this country can feel quite invisible, but most of us have some knowledge of the sound and feeling of the language as a result. It feels like a really lived part of my upbringing. His songs gave me a push forward into something that could have otherwise felt daunting and deep.

For those unfamiliar, could you talk about who Dr Hirini Melbourne was?

Hirini Melbourne was a Tūhoe and Ngāti Kahungunu educator and songwriter from up in Te Urewera [the hill country in the upper North Island of New Zealand]. He was born with a real sense of curiosity about the world and a sense of braveness and self-belief about taking on Te ao Māori [the Māori world] and bringing it to people in a really straightforward way. Hirini decided the best way was writing songs children could sing in te reo Māori about the natural world around us.

If you listen to his album, Forest and Ocean: Bird Songs by Hirini Melbourne, you’ll also see a lot of Scottish influence in terms of balladeering, melodies, and instrumentation. Later, he started collaborating with Dr. Richard Nunns. They’d play Taonga pūoro [traditional Māori musical instruments] and go into some very deep and ancient Māori music. Hirini’s whole career was this beautiful journey that was tragically cut short [in his fifties].

When I think about your music, I think about historical New Zealand country musicians like Tex Morton and John Grenell, who emerged from Te Waipounamu before finding success in Australia and America in the mid-to-late 20th century. 

I wasn’t super aware of that tradition until I learned about Hank Williams and completely fell in love with country music. After that, I realised there was a strong tradition back home. I guess it gives you a sort of reinforcement, a sense of history, and a throughline you can follow to the present moment.

I also think about New Zealand’s lineage of popular singers. People like Mr Lee Grant, Sir Howard Morrison, John Rowles, and Dean Waretini, who I see as antipodean equivalents to figures like Roy Orbison, Scott Walker, and Matt Monro. What does it say to you if I evoke these names around your album?

A lot of the celebration around this record is the celebrating the ability of Indigenous people – in this case, Māori specifically – to absorb what is going on in the world and make something from it. You can think about it in other terms, but I think about it in the sense of creativity. If you think about Māori religions like Ringatū [a combination of Christian beliefs and traditional Māori customs], there’s this willingness and this sort of epistemological elasticity to be able to go, “Oh, these things make sense together.” I can wield this tool. I’m going to come to it with my own stuff and create something unique and strong that is a blend of worlds. The main energy that was guiding me on this record was that tradition of synchronisation.

When do you consider to have been the starting point for Te Whare Tīwekaweka?

The literal start point was May 2019. That was the first time I sat down, had the melody and the structure of “Aua Atu Rā” and realised there was an implication in the music of what the song was about. This lilting lullaby was emerging. I’d say it was boat stuff. That was the first moment when I realised I was writing a waiata. I didn’t quite have it yet, but the phrasing was in [te reo] Māori, and I knew where it was telling me to go. At the time, I had a [Māori] proverb in my head, “He waka eke noa,” which means, “We’re all in this boat together.” I’ve always struggled with it. I believe it’s true, but we’re also completely alone in the universe.

From there, everything locked into place.

It strikes me that feeling connected could be considered an act of faith. You have to believe that it’s more than just you.

If I think about faith, I think about surrender, being humble, having humility, and going to a place I can acknowledge as new ground. I think faith is a useful word here.

Tell me about the conditions under which Te Whare Tīwekaweka came together.

It was pretty patchy in terms of the momentum of it. Once I had “Aua Atu Rā” loosely constructed, I took it to Kommi [Tamati-Elliffe], who helped me make sense of the grammar. After that, it sat there for a bit.

Kommi is a writer, rapper, poet, activist and lecturer in Māori and Indigenous Studies and te reo Māori. They perform te reo Kāi Tahu, the dialect of the largest iwi (tribe) within Te Waipounamu (the South Island of New Zealand). How would you describe them?

Kommi is a shapeshifter. I can’t work out how old they are. I found it hard to work out what they thought of me, but I knew there was this lovely softness there that belies a lot of deep thinking and some real sharpness. They’re very enigmatic as a person and a creative entity. One time, we got drunk at a party and talked about some work they were doing on phenomenology through a Te ao Māori lens. We were talking about that and making the most crass puns imaginable. There was this dichotomy of high-level and low-brow thinking that felt really playful.

What you’re telling me is you felt safe with them?

I guess. That’s all I can hope for in a collaborator.

Let’s get back to Te Whare Tīwekaweka. 

After I’d been sitting on “Aua Atu Rā” for a while, my My Boy album came out. In retrospect, you can also hear a lot of the direction that eventually went into Te Whare Tīwekaweka was already starting in My Boy. That took off for a bit, but all the while, I was back-and-forthing on songs in [te reo] Māori with Kommi. They’d send me lyrics all the time and I’d play around with them without really committing anything to paper.

Once I was near the end of touring My Boy, I started to turn my attention back to Te Whare Tīwekaweka. Then I agreed to let the director Ursula Grace Williams make a documentary about me [Marlon Williams: Ngā Ao E Rua – Two Worlds]. I thought, “Right, they’re filming me, so I better do what I’m saying.” Part of the intentionality was that the documentary would frame it into a real thing and make it happen. There was nowhere to hide.

Across the album, you sing about living between worlds, love, the land and sea, the weather, solitude, and travel, often through metaphors that invoke the natural world. Why do you think you gravitate towards these themes?

On a very basic level, I’m a very sunnily disposed person in terms of the way I comport myself. I feel desperately in love with people in the world and feel terrified of losing people, situations or understandings. These are the things I think about. The fact that I write songs like this is my outlet for ngā kare-ā-roto [what’s going on internally] and my darker side. I like to be warm and friendly in how I deal with people, but a little bit more severe when it comes to matters of the heart.

What do you think it has meant to make an album like this right now in Aotearoa and Te Waipounamu (New Zealand)?

Personally, I have a sense of achievement from having built something in that world. It also does something for my sense of family, in terms of representing a side of them very publicly that hasn’t always been accessible to them. There’s a lot of Kāi Tahu dialect on the album, so in terms of iwi, it feels good to put something on the map that speaks directly to the region. At the same time, this all sits within a very heated and fractious national conversation. On one level for me, it’s by the by; on another level, it’s great to have Māori music accepted into the mainstream. Whatever the political conversation going on is, if you can compel people with music, you’re really winning the battle on some level.

Taking things further, what do you think it means to be presenting Te Whare Tīwekaweka to a global audience?

Most places I go overseas, there is a sense of goodwill and excitement about marginalised languages being platformed. There’s a broader appetite due to people having instant access to a range of music through the internet. The threads you can draw together now are so vast and ungeographically constrained that I think people’s Overton window of what they’ll sit with and take in, even without knowing they’re not fully comprehending it, has shifted. I think people are generally either really open to that or completely shut off, which is something I don’t personally understand.

We can’t get around talking about Lorde singing on “Kāhore He Manu E.” It felt like she really met you where you were standing.

This speaks to the album in general. It was about bringing things to where I was standing. I didn’t want to jump into anyone else’s world. I had it in the back of my mind that I wanted her to sing on it. In the past, she kindly offered, “If you ever want me to sing on something, I’ll do it.” I could hear her on it from the moment I started writing it. There have been a few songs like that which have been very easily labored. They don’t take much writing and are always my favorite songs. It was important to me to get her involved in a way that wouldn’t be a post-hoc addition. She had to be part of the stitching of the record itself.

How do you feel in this moment, as you prepare to see what happens next?

I’m just excited to get these songs out into the world and see what they morph into when I start getting on stages and seeing what they do in a room. That’s going to change the way they feel and the way they want to be played. The second creative part of it is getting to the end of the tour and realising that the songs have become completely different from on the record. That can be a fun thing. Sometimes, it leads to remorse that you didn’t record them in the way they’ve gone. Other times, you realise you’ve completely ruined the song and gone away from what was good about it. I’m excited for the deployment.

Well, there’s always the live album.

Exactly.

Photo Credit: Steven Marr

Six of the Best Alison Krauss Covers

Posted on by Justin Hiltner

Alison Krauss has been recording and releasing music with her band, Union Station, for longer than she’s been able to legally drink or vote. Along the way, she’s been a key influence in the lives and careers of countless other musicians, many of whom have recorded and performed covers of their favorite Alison Krauss material.

Famously signing with Rounder Records when she was just 16, Krauss has spent the past four decades offering inspiration to multiple generations of artists spanning many genres, from bluegrass and country to Americana, folk, and beyond. She’s collaborated with fellow legends like Dolly Parton, Neil Young, and Robert Plant, and her list of honors includes not one, not two, but 27 GRAMMY Awards. In fact, she’s the fifth-most GRAMMY-awarded musician of all time, across all genres and categories.

As we highlight the vibrant legacy of Alison Krauss & Union Station, our Artist of the Month, in celebration of Arcadia, their first album in over a decade, we’re carving out some space for the performers who have skillfully and reverently covered Krauss and her music over the years. From big names and bluegrass stalwarts to some less expected artists that land a bit further off the beaten path.

While not all of our selections are Alison Krauss & Union Station originals, you can tell each of these musicians have been distinctly inspired by Krauss and her musical legacy. The internet is chock full of Alison Krauss covers, and we think these are six of the best.

“Whiskey Lullaby” – Kaitlin Butts and Flatland Cavalry

Originally released by Brad Paisley on his 2003 album, Mud on the Tires, “Whiskey Lullaby” was penned by Jon Randall and Bill Anderson and remains one of Krauss’s most popular songs as a featured guest artist. This cover by country phenoms Kaitlin Butts and Cleto Cordero of Flatland Cavalry – and featuring multi-instrumentalist Kurt Ozan on Dobro – infuses fresh grit and intimacy into the somber sensitivity of the original. While it’s hard to compete with Krauss’s bright, soaring vocals, Butts honors them well while staying true to her own rich vocal timbre.

We also recommend checking out this version where Paisley and Krauss perform the track at Carnegie Hall back in 2005.

Plus, the pair recently reunited on the special Opry 100: A Live Celebration TV broadcast to perform the song, as well. It was one of our favorite moments from the event.

“The Boy Who Wouldn’t Hoe Corn” – Dan Tyminski

You might know Dan Tyminski as the voice of Ulysses Everett McGill (AKA George Clooney’s character in O Brother, Where Art Thou?), but he was also a longtime member of Alison Krauss & Union Station. In 2001, Tyminski arranged and recorded a version of “The Boy Who Wouldn’t Hoe Corn” for the band’s album New Favorite.

In this video recorded for BBC Four, Tyminski leads the charge, belting this stunning rendition of the American folk traditional. While admittedly not a cover in the truest sense of the word (since Tyminski also sings lead vocals on the original), we couldn’t help but include this heart-stopping performance with Jerry Douglas, Russ Barenburg, Aly Bain, and more.

Tyminski performs the song as a member of Alison Krauss & Union Station in this equally impressive video from a 2002 performance in Louisville, Kentucky.

Tyminski left AKUS before the release of Arcadia and has been replaced in the band and on the recordings by bluegrass veteran Russell Moore. Still, Tyminski does appear on Arcadia on a couple of tracks and he also co-wrote “The Wrong Way.”

“My Love Follows You Where You Go” – Lori McKenna

Another unconventional cover, Lori McKenna co-wrote “My Love Follows You Where You Go” for Alison Krauss, but she didn’t record or release it herself until 2013. Alison Krauss & Union Station had recorded and released it on their acclaimed 2011 album, Paper Airplane.

This offbeat love song captures the richness and complexity of Krauss’s singing and performance style; hearing McKenna perform it adds another layer of depth. McKenna wrote the track with Barry Dean and Liz Rose as a bittersweet love note to her children. She shared her feelings about it with American Songwriter in 2013: “I was able to sing it pretty well. Not as beautifully as Alison Krauss, of course. But I’m happy that one made my record because it is such a message to our kids.”

Watch AKUS performing the number on a live television performance from 2011:

“Let Me Touch You For A While” — Mary Spender

Mary Spender isn’t too well-known in the American bluegrass scene, but she’s an acclaimed British singer-songwriter and YouTuber. Guitarist Magazine even called her “one of the most dynamic, expressive young British singer-songwriters working today.” She’s one of many young musicians who draws inspiration from Alison Krauss.

Spender has one of those rich, soulful voices that makes you stop and catch your breath when you first hear it. It’s hard to anticipate and it’s also very distinct from Krauss’s light, angelic voice. But in this cover of “Let Me Touch You For A While,” Spender offers a simple yet jaw-dropping performance that boldly honors the original while taking things in a unique direction. Accompanied only by her guitar, Spender brings a sultry, driving energy to the song’s emotional complexity and leans into her impressive vocal range.

Originally recording the track in 2001 for New Favorite, it would go on to become one of their most recognizable hits. Krauss & Union Station performed “Let Me Touch You For A While” alongside Jerry Douglas at the Opry 100 celebration last month.

“No Place to Hide” – Adam Steffey

If you’re a diehard AKUS fan, you’ll definitely recognize Adam Steffey’s name; he’s another past member of Union Station from 1990 to 1998. Here, Steffey and his own band (including Tyminski) give a raucous rendition of “No Place to Hide,” a song Steffey recorded with Union Station on So Long So Wrong (1997). A straightforward “mash” bluegrass track, “No Place to Hide” booms and rolls with the band’s strong vocal harmonies and tight, effortless timing.

Here’s a much earlier live version of the song that’s got a more traditional bluegrass sound by Krauss and band:

“The Lucky One” – Jessica Willis Fisher, Gavin Trent

One of Krauss’s major country hits, “The Lucky One” was originally released on New Favorite in 2001. That same year, it won two GRAMMY Awards: Best Country Song and Best Country Performance by a Duo or Group. This stripped-down cover by Jessica Willis Fisher and Gavin Trent honors Krauss’s voice and musicianship in a way few other musicians can. Fisher has a similarly bright, soprano voice, and she can definitely hold her own on the fiddle, which she’s been playing since she was a child. As soon as you start listening, it’s clear Fisher is inspired by Krauss and this rendition serves as a fitting tribute.

A lifelong musician, Fisher has received praise from CMT, American Songwriter, and Billboard, and she’s worked with some of the same songwriters who write for AKUS – but it’s still possible you’ve never heard of her. Fisher has intentionally stayed out of the public eye in recent years (despite releasing her debut solo album, Brand New Day, in 2022) due to significant personal trauma tied to her family history. Fisher now uses the trauma she’s endured to help others heal, both through her music and her writing.

Alison Krauss & Union Station performed “The Lucky One” live on CMT in 2005:

Explore more of our Artist of the Month content on Alison Krauss & Union Station here.

Photo Credit: Randee St. Nicholas

GC 5+5: Rebecca Lynn Howard

Posted on by Justin Hiltner

Artist: Rebecca Lynn Howard
Hometown: Salyersville, Kentucky
Latest Album: I’m Not Who You Think I Am (out May 2, 2025)
Personal Nicknames (or rejected band names): My family and friends call me Aunt B

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

The best advice I’ve ever received is to tell the truth, no matter how hard, no matter how messy. People don’t connect with perfection, they connect with honesty. When I started writing from that place, everything changed. Music became more than just a craft. It became a way to heal, not just for me but for my fans too.

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

Honestly, the hardest songs to write are the ones I need to write the most. There was a time after my dad passed away when I couldn’t write at all. Every time I tried, it felt like I was staring into this giant void of grief and I didn’t have the words to make sense of it. Eventually, I stopped trying to force it and just let myself feel everything. When I finally sat down to write again, the song came out in one sitting. It was like the words had been there, waiting for me to be ready.

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

Water, hands down! There’s something about being near water, whether it’s the ocean, a river, or even just a hard rain that takes away the noise in my head. It’s where I think the clearest and where my best lyrics come from. It helps me know that everything moves in seasons, especially the hard things.

If you were a color, what shade would you be – and why?

I’d be a deep blue… the kind that’s somewhere between dusk and the ocean just before a storm. That kind of blue is my favorite color cause it holds a lot of depth, beauty, a little bit of sadness, but also an understated kind of strength.

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

I’d love to sit down to a slow, home-cooked Southern meal. Something warm and comforting, like my mom’s homemade biscuits and honey butter, with a side of conversations about Jesus. And the perfect soundtrack? Probably someone like Johnny Cash or Brandi Carlile. Something raw – and real – and full of stories.

Photo Credit: Allister Ann

MIXTAPE: Tony Kamel’s “We’re All Gonna Live” Playlist

Posted on by Justin Hiltner

Life is weird. In the words of Dan Reeder, “What the fuck is that about?”

Everyone tells me I seem mellow and laid back – and I am. That said, if anyone were to take one step into my head, they’d be bombarded with a maelstrom of wonderings about death, intrusive thoughts, forgotten location of keys and wallets, constant attempts (mostly failures) at descriptive alliteration, wildly sweeping feeling of love, wildly sweeping feelings of grief – and constant hunger. All of which eventually spin back around to complete peace and acceptance.

Music tends to get me back to that point. These songs bring peace to my ’90s-fuzzy-porn-like mess of a mind by reminding me (in one way or another) that it’s somewhat preposterous that we exist at all. A lot of these tracks are attached to personal moments in my own timeline, but hope they bring you peace too. – Tony Kamel

“Deep Breath” – Riley Downing

“Take a deep breath, it’ll be alright…”

I love this guy’s tunes. He has a poignant way of presenting life’s weirdness. Also as a recent yogi, it’s a good reminder to come back to my breath.

“Monster Truck” – Ramsay Midwood

“You don’t like it, you can kiss my ass. ‘Cause I drive a monster truck…”

This record, Shootout at the OK Chinese Restaurant, is funny, odd, and just a fantastic timeless reflection on the insanity we’ll always exist inside. Is he celebrating or making fun of these people? I don’t know. I don’t care. It’s funny.

“People Talkin’” – Hurray for the Riff Raff 

“People, they’re trying to tear us apart…”

Alynda Segarra is a national treasure. This record just blows my mind and has been a staple for me for a long time. It reminds me that I’m old now and I’m glad to be.

“Sue” – Tony Kamel

“If you’re livin’ and breathing, and doing that right, you ought to be lovin’ with all of your might…”

The second verse of this tune holds the keystone to my upcoming record, We’re All Gonna Live. Obviously, our relationships with other people define much of our lives. Sue was a wonderful person. I miss her dearly.

“Waxing and Waning” – Melissa Carper

“Waxing and waning, wishing and waiting…”

Melissa is one of the best writers and singers out there. Her retro voice puts me at ease.

“Don’t Tell the Boys” – Petey USA

“Lets talk about how childhood trauma guides our actions as adults…”

This tune reminds me of me and my old buddies. I’m lucky to have them. We’ve been friends for 30+ years and we can be ourselves and tell each other anything without fear or judgment – something I treasure deeply.

 “Louie” – Arcy Drive

“Baby remember, this is our December…”

I just love this song and it’s reminiscent of ’90s alternative rock Weezer era. It makes me happy to see Gen Z-ers throwing down with a rockin’ live band like this. It feels cyclical.

“Problem Solver” – Slimdan

“Maybe I should be someone who listens and not try to fix it/ … You don’t want a problem solver…”

This is a beautiful love song about being a typical dude and doing typical dude things like I tend to do in my marriage. I’ve come a long way though… so has this guy.

“Joyful” – Kelley Mickwee

“The beauty of life is the movement of change…”

Kelley rocks and this album rocks. That’s all.

“The Illinois River Song” – The Brother Brothers

“I proclaim the Illinois River gonna swallow me up whole and not a soul will know that I am missing…”

I’m a sucker for a good river/life metaphor. The melodies that weave in and out of this tune are infectious. It could be about anything and I’d love it.

“Everything Is Everything” – Cappadonna

“Everything that you see ain’t reality, they’re just illusions…”

Hip-hop on a bluegrass website? Duh. Can always count on a member of the Wu-Tang Clan to remind you that we might live in a simulation.

“They’ll Never Keep Us Down” – Hazel Dickens 

“We won’t be bought, we won’t be sold…”

Just because everything is uncontrollable bullshit doesn’t mean we don’t fight. This tune speaks for itself. Bless Hazel Dickens.

“Born a Worm” – Dan Reeder

“Born a worm, spins a cocoon, goes to sleep, wakes up a butterfly. What the fuck is that about?”

I do not know, Dan. None of us do. I implore everyone reading this to listen to Dan Reeder’s songs.

“We’re All Gonna Live” – Tony Kamel

Yes we are.

I’m tired of talking about myself. Y’all can figure it out. Love you.

Photo Credit: Josh Abel

MIXTAPE: Michigan Rattlers’ Rebirth of Spring Playlist

Posted on by Justin Hiltner

Spring is a transformation. A reawakening. A rebirth.

Time marches on and no matter how cold the winter may be, the spring arrives and reminds us that we can start again. These songs represent that sound and spirit.

The past three years have felt like a long spring for our band. From writing and recording our album, Waving From A Sea, to now playing those songs every night on tour, we have found the warmth and growth within ourselves. – Michigan Rattlers

“You Must Believe In Spring” – Bill Evans

Bill Evans’ music sounds like the 30 minutes before sunrise or after sunset. It’s like wet soil for me as an artist – refreshing and fertile. – Graham Young

“Everything Is Peaceful Love” – Bon Iver

I’ve heard Justin Vernon talk about this record as finding what he loved again about making music, it’s a rebirth of sorts for him. Even the GOAT loses the muse sometimes; an inspiration for us all to keep trying. – GY

“Inconsolable” – Katie Gavin

I found a shaky fan video of this months before it ever went live and haven’t stopped listening since. To me, this song is about nurture versus nature and choosing to defy patterns and spring a new path for yourself. – GY

“Geranium Day” – Michigan Rattlers

This is a song from our new album, Waving From A Sea, that is about those moments that bring your life into focus. Times that make you feel the ground beneath your feet. It’s about making it through the transformation of spring into summer and soaking up every bit of the day that you can. – GY

“Joy Spring” – Clifford Brown, Max Roach Quintet

I love the melody in this song, it reminds me of spring. The standard’s title is the pet name Clifford Brown gave to his wife. You can’t go wrong putting Clifford and Max together. – Tony Audia

“Spangled” – Fust

Fust’s latest album, Big Ugly, has been in my heavy rotation this spring. The song “Spangled” features moments of frustration and doubt. I get the sense that many Americans are feeling the same way this spring. – TA

“Countdown” – Phoenix

The line in the song, “We’re sick for the big sun,” sums it up. You’ve gotta have a Phoenix song if you’re talking about the rebirth of spring. – TA

“The Birthday Party” – The 1975

This song feels like waking up to me. The muted instruments and the intimacy and fragility of the vocal all feel like thawing out after a long winter. Both outside and in. – Christian Wilder

“Tinseltown is in the Rain” – The Blue Nile

I fell in love with The Blue Nile about a year ago. I’m perpetually obsessed with how they make this song switch feels and sway using pretty much all synthesized and gridded out sounds. This song is for standing outside pub at 2 a.m., rain coming down, it’s April fools day. – CW

“Bright Future in Sales” – Fountains of Wayne

Every spring carries with it an inherent sense of optimism. This is gonna be the big year, this is the year it all happens, this is the year I get my shit together. Almost never pans out the way you think, but it’s fun to pretend. I got a “Bright Future in Sales,” baby. – CW

“Under a Stormy Sky” – Daniel Lanois

This song feels like spring up north. The weather is chaotic and awful, yet you notice the birds returning and there is reason to celebrate change. Also, those lines about feeling pulled toward the city resonate with me. Winter where we’re from is pretty isolating, and I associate this time of year with anticipation for summer festivals and baseball games and just being among people again. – Adam Reed

“Light of a Clear Blue Morning” – Dolly Parton

This is a springtime song if I’ve ever heard one. It’s practically perfect, I don’t think I need to explain it. – AR

“To-Do List” – The Felice Brothers

For me, spring always brings an aspirational feeling, more daylight, more possibilities. This song gets right at that manic but euphoric headspace that comes right after thinking, “What the hell was I doing all winter?” – AR

Photos courtesy of Michigan Rattlers.

You Gotta Hear This: New Music From Liam St. John with Molly Tuttle, the Faux Paws, and More

Posted on by Justin Hiltner

Hop aboard another edition of our weekly roundup of new music and premieres!

This time, we’re grabbing a ride on a Greyhound with blues rocker Liam St. John and Molly Tuttle for a special live performance video of “Greyhound Bus Blues” that’s a truly lovely roots duet. There are a few more stops for this bus, though, so hold on! Next, the Faux Paws take us to New York City and while that city (never) sleeps they cover Jimmy Martin’s “Night,” a new single and video, shot by Dylan Ladds.

Trad bluegrass innovators Chris Jones & the Night Drivers turn a familiar idiom on its head with “Plenty Ventured,” their latest single which drops today. And, Jones’ fellow Canadian Jadea Kelly brings an endlessly smooth and soulful original Americana song that sets a peaceful and calm tone for the weekend, entitled “Friday.” It’s a special track you can find on the deluxe issue of her most recent album, Weather Girl.

Don’t miss up-and-coming bluegrass and folk string band the Wilder Flower from the mountain-y portions of the North and South Carolina line. They close out our round-up this week bringing us back to Molly Tuttle, who with Jon Weisberger wrote “Every Time the Rain Comes Pouring Down.” The Wilder Flower successfully make the song their own.

It’s a perfect musical journey, all right here on BGS. You know what you gotta do? You Gotta Hear This!

The Faux Paws, “Night”

Artist: The Faux Paws
Hometown: Springfield, Vermont
Song: “Night”
Album: No Bad Ideas
Release Date: May 9, 2025
Label: Great Bear Records / Free Dirt

In Their Words: “When Andrew unearthed this great Jimmy Martin tune we all knew the groove hidden within would be well-served by our treatment. It slaps from the first note. We linked up with great filmmaker Dylan Ladds and all decided to head to New York to shoot this video. Jimmy may not have been thinking about ‘night’ in the city that never sleeps, but we love how open the lyrics of this song are and sometimes the loneliest place being surrounded by 23 million people, right?

“We’re really excited to release this along with the single from our upcoming record and tour all spring and summer to some of our favorite towns and festivals!” – Chris Miller, banjo, sax

Video Credits: Dylan Ladds, Filmed at Epiphany Recording Studios, Long Island City, New York.

Chris Jones & the Night Drivers, “Plenty Ventured”

Artist: Chris Jones & The Night Drivers
Hometown: Nashville, Tennessee
Song: “Plenty Ventured”
Release Date: April 11, 2025
Label: Mountain Home Music Company

In Their Words: “This twist on the old proverb ‘nothing ventured, nothing gained’ popped into my head pretty much out of the blue. The idea of putting too much effort or resources into a lost cause is certainly relatable, whether it’s in love or work or some other part of life. We’ve all been there at some point or another. Once I started working on it, it lent itself to a bluesy feel, and it really clicked for us in the studio. Mark Stoffel came up with the little melodic variation that starts the song.” – Chris Jones

Track Credits:
Chris Jones – Acoustic guitar, lead vocal, harmony vocal
Mark Stoffel – Mandolin
Grace van’t Hof – Banjo, harmony vocal
Marshall Wilborn – Bass
Carly Arrowood – Fiddle 

Jadea Kelly, “Friday”

Artist: Jadea Kelly
Hometown: Whitby, Ontario, Canada
Song: “Friday”
Album: Weather Girl (deluxe)
Release Date: October 12, 2024 (album); April 11, 2025 (deluxe release)

In Their Words: “This is a very simple, feel-good song about staying in and doing absolutely nothing on a Friday night. Since removing alcohol from my life two-and-a-half years ago and entering my late thirties, the weekend has a different mood and intention. It’s sacred, quiet, and filled with self-care. I also feel that the pandemic forcibly reintroduced us to home time in a new way. And I love it!” – Jadea Kelly

Track Credits:
Jadea Kelly – Vocals, songwriting
Peter Von Althen – Drums
Jim Bryson – Production, instrumentation

Liam St. John, “Greyhound Bus Blues” (featuring Molly Tuttle)

Artist: Liam St. John
Song: “Greyhound Bus Blues” (featuring Molly Tuttle)
Release Date: April 11, 2025
Label: Big Loud Rock

In Their Words: “Life as an artist is beautiful. It is unpredictable, it is incredibly fulfilling, and it is full of highs and lows. But there are moments in your career as an artist that act as pillars of affirmation. Moments that let you know you’re on the right track. For me, there are a few pillars: The first time I played a headline show where the crowd screamed every lyric with me. When I signed to Big Loud records. When I found out Molly Tuttle was going to feature on my song ‘Greyhound Bus Blues.’

“When I got the call that Molly was going to feature on this song, I could hardly believe it. I’m such a fan of her work and I admire her so much as a songwriter, singer, and musician. She elevates ‘Greyhound Bus Blues’ to another level with her world-class flat-picking and GRAMMY-winning bluegrass vocals. Collaborating with Molly, both in the studio and for the live recording, was a master class in combining professionalism and adoration of music.” – Liam St. John

Video Credit: Sean O’Halloran

The Wilder Flower, “Every Time the Rain Comes Pouring Down”

Artist: The Wilder Flower
Hometown: Brevard, North Carolina / Pickens, South Carolina
Song: “Every Time the Rain Comes Pouring Down”
Release Date: April 13, 2025

In Their Words: “As a group of developing songwriters, we couldn’t be more proud to release a song written by two distinctive stylists and heroes of ours. It blurs genre and generational lines, with the feel of fiddling ballads and bluegrass rhythm that colors our group. It’s a deeply emotional number that we connected with after the first listen. We’d like to thank Jon Weisberger and Molly Tuttle for the opportunity to take their work & make it our own.” – Danielle Yother

Photo Credit: The Faux Paws by Dylan Ladds; Liam St. John and Molly Tuttle courtesy of the artist.

Folk Trio the Wildwoods’ New Album is a Love Letter to Nebraska

Posted on by Justin Hiltner

The Wildwoods are not shy about the pride they hold for their home state, Nebraska. The Lincoln-based trio – guitarist/vocalist Noah Gose, violinist/vocalist Chloe Gose, and bassist/vocalist Andy Vaggalis – named their gorgeous new album, Dear Meadowlark (out April 11), after the state bird, while songs like “Sweet Niobrara” and “I Will Follow You To Willow” represent odes to specific Nebraska towns.

“The album really is about our home here in Nebraska,” elaborated Noah, who is the group’s principal songwriter.

The Wildwoods have been together, in one form or another, for over a decade. Noah and Chloe, who are now married, first started performing together as teenagers, while Andy had played in the Wildwoods on and off for several years before officially joining them as a trio in 2022. Dear Meadowlark is their fourth full-length, but the first with Andy as a full-time member, and this album showcases their marvelous vocal chemistry throughout its set of gentle, pastoral acoustic music.

Before heading out on an East Coast tour, the three spoke to BGS about their new album, their growth as a band, and how the pandemic actually helped them become more widely known.

You all have been really upfront with how the new album reflects your deep affection for your home state, Nebraska.

Noah Gose: You know, living in a place like Nebraska, you hear a lot about people wanting to move away. But we’ve just grown to really appreciate our life in Nebraska and appreciate having had the opportunity to grow up in a place like Nebraska.

Chloe Gose: As much as we leave, I think we’ve all always appreciated our home.

Dear Meadowlark also has a very smooth musical flow to it. The title track opens the album like a lovely overture, while the contemplative closer, “Postcards From Somewhere,” bookends it as something like a reflective travelogue-type tune.

CG: It kind of felt like [“Postcards From Somewhere”] was the perfect fit to tie everything all together.

Andy Vaggalis: I think it works super well at the end, too, because [the album] is almost like little stories being written on the postcard with the last song for the postcard to be sent off.

NG: And that song originally wasn’t going to be a part of the album. It was just going to be a single. I wasn’t too keen on adding it to the album, but you know what Chloe says goes, so it was her decision to put it on, but now I’m really happy that we decided to do that.

The album’s music is really rooted in your acoustic instruments; however, drums, keyboards, and cello are used to nicely fill out the arrangements. Was that a conscious choice?

CG: I’m glad that you say that, because with our last album, Foxfield Saint John, I feel like each song is very epic-sounding in the sense that it just has a lot going on in all the arrangements, and we really wanted this album to sound more like us like how we sound live.

NG: All those extra instruments don’t really have the main spotlight at any point throughout the album, but they’re definitely kind of underlying things that brought certain parts of the arrangement out.

Noah, you are the primary songwriter – how did you approach writing the songs for Dear Meadowlark, which sounds like it is a quite personal album?

NG: Yeah, our first two albums, Sweet Nostalgia in 2017 and then Across the Midwest Sky in 2019, were all songs that were music first, lyrics second. And Foxfield was kind of half and half. Most of the songs on Dear Meadowlark were lyrics first. I feel like the songs mean more to me personally when the lyrics are first, because all the lines feel more purposeful.

CG: Things that are happening in our life are inspiring the words. So, all the words are very truthful and mean something in real time… I can tell when certain songs were written.

NG: I don’t like writing songs that just feel like everything’s completely made up. I like to just relate every song I write to things that happened in real life.

Are the vocals something that you think about when you are writing the songs, Noah?

NG: I very rarely have Chloe’s vocal range or Andy’s vocal range in mind when I’m writing the initial bones of the song, because I don’t want anything to get in the way of whatever kind of creativity goes into the initial writing. Most of the songs though, I arrange with Chloe singing the melody. I just don’t feel as confident in my own voice as I do in Chloe’s voice. And just with her being the only female voice, I feel like her voice stands out the most and works the best most of the time as singing the melody.

Your wonderful harmony singing seems to have become central to your sound now.

NG: The whole album of Dear Meadowlark was written around three-part harmony being kind of the main focus of the album.

AV: When I joined the group, I had it in my head – “I’m playing bass.” I wasn’t envisioning doing all these three-part harmony stuff. … When I first came back into the fold, it was like learning the songs and just finding a part in between [their voices] that fit. I remember like one night we were trying to make a fun ad for a show, so we switched around the words to “Teach Your Children” by Crosby, Stills, Nash & Young. And I remember just feeling way easier than I normally would at [how] to put the three-part harmony together, and just like, “Oh, shit, that sounds good!”

Andy, while Dear Meadowlark was your first full album in the band’s trio setup, you have been with Chloe and Noah frequently over the years?

AV: I started playing with these guys in 2017. We were like a six-piece band. So, I was on Sweet Nostalgia and Across the Midwest Sky. Through the years, I’ve been lurking around.

CG: We’ve had different musicians playing with us throughout the years, but Andy has always been like a core member – basically since the beginning. … We were in choir together in high school. I think there’s kind of like an epiphany with Andy still playing with us. We’ve had other members and clearly that wasn’t like their dream to be doing that anymore. I feel like the reason why we are all still together and doing it is because we all have the same appreciation for what we’re doing.

Okay, speaking of beginnings, I must ask about the beginning of your musical partnership, Chloe and Noah. You two have been making music together since you were both teenagers.

CG: Noah and I met in 2012 when we were 14. I was playing music with my brother and we just like played for fun basically at farmers markets and stuff. [Noah] joined my brother and me, and we played all throughout high school [as] the Wildwoods.

NG: If you were to see videos of us playing at 14, you would probably turn your computer off. … I only really ever had this acoustic guitar that was my dad’s. So, I didn’t ever dive into any other kind of music other than songs that I would play on the acoustic guitar. And when I met Chloe and I learned that she played the violin, I think I just immediately felt like we should play music together. We really enjoyed each other’s company. And playing together so much over the past 13 years, I think it’s just there was no kind of epiphany at first; I think it’s been a 13-year-long epiphany

Andy, when you decided to formally join the band, you still hadn’t finished college yet – was that a big decision?

AV: I was going to college for music. When I would think about what I wanted to do after graduating college, it was travel around and play music. So, I figured might as well. I didn’t necessarily need college to do that at the moment. I can always go back, right? We’ve been great friends since before I was even playing with them. And then, after years of playing with them, it was a pretty easy decision to talk myself into it.

When you rebranded as a trio, it was also when your group started to get a lot of attention during the pandemic for the cover song videos you put up online.

NG: When we started posting his videos, the response that we were getting from the trio videos was just far better than anything that we had ever done in the past, and so we just felt, “This is what works best!”

AV: Then when the “Home” video (a cover of the 2010 Edward Sharpe & the Magnetic Zeros hit song) blew up, I think it was Halloween night. All of our phones were just notification after notification after notification, and we’re like “This is insane!” And then the next day, it dawned on us, “Okay, this is exciting, but also this is like a little opportunity here that we need to maximize.” We were trying to still practice together, because we were still kind of in the infancy of playing together as a trio.

CG: Yeah, it was kind of a stressful time during that time, because all three of us were teaching music lessons as well as doing the Wildwoods full time. So, we would meet up early in the morning. We’d start our days at like 8 a.m. and just go until 3 or 4, and then we’d all go and teach lessons. Then we would meet up after lessons to finish what we were working on.

Did the viral success of your cover song videos change what the makeup of the audiences coming to your shows?

CG: We went on tour not really knowing what to expect after our social media blew up. And then [on] our first tour, it was really amazing to see. We started just selling a bunch of tickets in cities that we had never even gone to…

@thewildwoodsband ‘Home’ by Edward Sharpe and the Magnetic Zeros🏠 #edwardsharpe #edwardsharpeandthemagneticzeros #home #folk #folkmusic #trio #folktrio #bass #uprightbass #fiddle #acousticguitar #harmonies #eartrumpetlabs #acousiccover #acousticmusic #vibes #sweatervest #fun #love #nebraska #tambourine #guitar ♬ Home by The Wildwoods – The Wildwoods

Did you fear that your cover of “Home” might become your “Free Bird”?

NG: Yeah, it was definitely a worry at first, just because we usually throw in one cover, maybe two. We’re mainly an originals band.

CG: I think it has evolved, now that it’s been a couple of years, where people are finding our original music. And they’re requesting them at shows more so than the cover songs.

AV: Even some deep cuts, too.

The songs on Dear Meadowlark, besides drawing inspiration from your home state Nebraska, also holds a warm, woodsy vibe that suggest to me about being out in nature. How would you describe your sound?

CG: Yeah, I think that’s the vibe we’re trying to go for, like aesthetically and musically. I feel like our music too is very soothing – even our upbeat songs. I don’t know if that’s just because of the harmonies fitting together. It’s very calming and soothing music.

Photo Credit: Emma Petersen

Basic Folk: Ani DiFranco & Carsie Blanton

Posted on by Justin Hiltner

Basic Folk is making trouble at sea with Ani DiFranco and Carsie Blanton! Hosts Lizzie and Cindy had the opportunity to speak with the two like-minded radical songwriters aboard the 2025 edition of Cayamo, a roots music cruise. Our conversation kicks off with Ani sharing her transformative experience performing as Persephone in the Broadway show Hadestown, delving into the challenges of acting and the lessons learned from stepping outside her musical comfort zone. We navigate through Ani’s journey of independence, discussing Unprecedented Sh!t, her first album with a producer besides herself in 23 years – BJ Burton – and what it means to relinquish control in the creative process.

LISTEN: APPLE • SPOTIFY • AMAZON • MP3

In Ani’s memoir, No Walls and the Recurring Dream, she writes about how her creativity is aligned with her menstrual cycle. She described the most creative part of her cycle as “THE WINDOW.” Cindy asked all three artists onstage to reflect on how their creativity relates to their periods. What resulted was a discussion on how creativity is impacted by not only menstrual cycles, but menopause and ovulation and how that has evolved over time. The conversation also touches on the significance of hair as a form of self-expression and how societal perceptions of women change with their appearances.

Ani and Carsie speak to the power of songwriting in addressing historical and political issues, emphasizing the importance of music as part of a larger movement for justice. They share insights on the necessity of community and collaboration among artists in a challenging industry, encouraging listeners to find strength in solidarity rather than competition. To wrap up, they reminisce about their parallel wild, youthful experiences and how those versions of themselves continue to influence their art today. As Ani had to leave the stage early, Carsie brought it home with an Ani DiFranco-themed lightning round.

Photo Credit: Brian Lasky

Sierra Hull & Billy Strings Do Traditional Bluegrass Justice with a Duet on Austin City Limits

Posted on by Justin Hiltner

Last week, Austin City Limits released an excellent bluegrass performance from their Austin City Limits Celebrates 50 Years broadcast, which debuted on April 4 on PBS. Mandolinist Sierra Hull and guitar phenom Billy Strings appeared on the special ACL show, performing a classic bluegrass number, “Midnight on the Stormy Deep,” a traditional song that entered the bluegrass canon via Bill Monroe himself. (Watch above.) It’s a popular duet, whether at jam sessions or on stage, and in this iteration finds the forward-thinking pair of Hull and Strings employing more retro sounds. Both are adept at these tones and textures, but tend to opt for more envelope-pushing picking on their own songs and creations. It’s lovely to hear both players in a bit more reserved a setting, with moments of star power shining through their tasteful playing and careful listening.

It’s striking how crisp, clean, and precise Hull and Strings render the song, but the grit and gristle that we tend to associate with bluegrass – and that “high lonesome sound” – are evident, certainly not in short supply. Hull’s solos are playful with zany touches and bluesy licks. Strings holds down the resonant lead vocal part while Hull adds the high harmony, both singing the lyric entirely in duet, because that’s how it goes! Strings pulls hard through his own solo with his signature confidence and boldness, while reminding his listeners how pivotal an influence Doc Watson has been across his career.

Hull and Strings are no strangers to collaborating, and in many contexts. Remember that time they covered Post Malone together? And well before Postie’s country foray and Strings’ track features on it. Hull has been known to guest on Strings’ shows, and vice versa. Their backstage cover of “What Does the Deep Sea Say” taped at the Ryman Auditorium has hundreds of thousands of views; “Midnight on the Stormy Deep,” meanwhile, has amassed nearly 200,000 views since it landed on YouTube late last week. Plus, Strings fans will recognize the track, not only from the bluegrass songbook, as it were, but from Strings’ own discography as well. He dueted with bluegrass legend and Hall of Famer Del McCoury on a version of the number a few years back. We never tire of it.

Whatever the many factors that led to Hull and Strings picking “Midnight on the Stormy Deep” together on ACL, they all add up to a live performance that’s easy, confident, and fun, and ultimately speaks to the deep and wide roster of young and younger bluegrass professionals who are keeping this music alive and in the limelight. For the coming generations and as-yet uninitiated new bluegrass fans, too.

Read our recent Cover Story interview with Sierra Hull on her brand new album here.

Read our recent exclusive interview with Billy Strings here.

Palmyra Shakes Off Anxieties With Oh Boy Records Debut, ‘Restless’

Posted on by Justin Hiltner

Palmyra is a bit restless. Their emotions knot into a mangled ball, almost suffocating them.

“Early hours in the morning, tossing and turning/ Everyone else in this house is asleep,” Sasha Landon pours into the microphone. “Palm Readers” emerges integral to the band’s new musical chapter. Aptly titled Restless, this album marks their debut with Oh Boy Records. It’s like reintroducing themselves to the world.

The trio – rounded out with Teddy Chipouras and Mānoa Bell – pounces from the get-go. Similar to The Lone Bellow’s tightly wound vocal work, their harmonies exude a vintage richness throughout as they do on the title track and opener. It’s quite evident that they take their work seriously, down to the lilt of their voices as they glide through the air. Palmyra makes you believe they’ve been singing together for decades, their harmonies are so electric and full of life.

“We definitely put a lot of effort into our harmonies. It’s something that always feels super important when we’re arranging a song,” shares Landon. “The three of us weren’t people who sang with others a lot before this band. When we formed, we learned a lot from old recordings of other bands and all sorts of stuff. We did a lot of transcribing harmony early on in the lockdown. The record needed to start with our voices and we wanted that to set the tone for the album.”

Perfectly performed harmonies underpin the album’s emotional currents. The trio builds guilt, frustration, and hope into the project’s backbone to create a coming-of-age story. “There was a moment when we understood what the album was about. There were separate songs that we found homes together through playing them live,” says Chipouras. “‘Palm Readers’ feels great right after ‘Restless.’ And those songs then became a pair. Their energies matched. The coming-of-age narrative emerged from the time period that the songs were written.”

Restless sprouts from the cracks between each song. Where “No Receipt” meanders through sun-caked uncertainty, the cheeky “Dishes” sees the band accepting domestication and finding peace. Along the way, they agonize over being present while time yanks them this way and that – the pressure that comes from being a working musician crushes their shoulders. The album, based on a “period of leaving college, going out on our own, starting a band, going out on the road, and just trying to figure out what the life of a musician looks like,” captures brutal truths of living, loving, and losing time.

Hopping on a Zoom call, Palmyra spoke to BGS about feeling restless, reenergized creativity, and mortality.

What is it about the title track that made sense to be the opener?

Sasha Landon: It made a lot of sense for us to have this song that starts with the three of our voices kicking off the record. Also, it is a song that has a through line to the record from the jump. The emotional center for this record is pretty heavy. And that’s not to say that there’s not a lot of light in the record. I think there’s a lot of fun on it, as well. But the overall emotional center is pretty heavy and restless, felt like a good way to jump into that.

In “No Receipt,” you lament that there just isn’t enough time. As you’ve gotten older, what’s your relationship with time been like?

Mānoa Bell: That’s the central theme of, not only the record, but questions we’re always asking ourselves. Specifically, the last line there about finding those quieter moments has proven to be such a challenge, to put it all to the side. Being an artist is such a consuming experience. Every moment of your day is a part of that journey and it can be hard to have separation from it, which is a really beautiful thing, but frustrating at times as well. You can’t get away from it.

“Can’t Slow Down” deals with a similar thematic thread. How did this one come together?

Teddy Chipouras: This one was a song that I wrote after a couple of years of not writing songs. I don’t think I wrote hardly any songs during COVID. This tune kind of came out all at once after being fed up with not writing anything for a while, and I think we had just gotten off the road. It was kind of like just throwing words at the page of how I was feeling at the time, just feeling exhausted.

That one’s funny, because it was a really big moment for me and I felt very accomplished that I had written something and finished something. I remember being nervous to send it to the band and then really not thinking anything would come from it. I did not think we would be playing that song every night. It’s one of those tunes that has changed meaning, or it means more to me now than it did when I wrote it.

“Buffalo” roots itself in a phone call during a show in Buffalo after one of your friends had taken their own life. Was this song a necessary cathartic exercise?

MB: There are songs that you try to write and then there are songs that you just have to write. I remember very clearly writing the beginning of it and immediately feeling better. It was a very therapeutic experience, not feeling good but feeling better. It’s a song that’s still hard to play. I feel a responsibility to try to connect emotionally with it every time we play it and not just phone it in. Sometimes, when you’re on stage, you’ve done something so many times, there’s a muscle memory aspect to it. But that song never really feels like muscle memory.

When someone dies, you begin questioning your mortality. Did that happen to you?

MB: I think suicide, specifically, when it’s someone who you see yourself in, and someone who you grew up with, makes you wonder what life would be like without them. It’s not just suicide. It’s just about loss and grief. There was never a point where I was like at such a level of grief that I didn’t want to continue living. But it definitely makes you wonder what life will be like moving forward.

The closing track, “Carolina Wren,” feels like a big sigh to let all the things on the record go. Why does it appear as primarily the demo you recorded?

SL: [Producer] Jake Cochran did such a great job of trying to make sure that the songs sonically matched their emotional core and that the version of the song that we were putting out felt really authentic to the lyrics and our live performance of it. This was a tune that I hadn’t played for anyone in the band yet. I wrote it right before we went to the lakehouse [to record] and played it on a whim. I think Teddy was out getting groceries or something and Jake pressed record. Mānoa is holding the bass and I think plays one note on it, and I am playing guitar and singing. We just felt, after hearing it, there was a consensus that that’s how the song is supposed to exist. It’s how it’s supposed to sound.

And Jake helped us get there, too. With some songs, like “Shape I’m In,” for example, we had to be mindful of how many performances we gave it before we exhausted it and weren’t going to get any more. When you have a song that takes a lot emotionally to perform, you can only do it so many times before it loses its meaning, or becomes muscle memory, or just wears you out from overuse. We had one take that felt earnest. It speaks to the song. It honors the song in a good way and it belongs as it is. Then we decided that it made sense as the last tune on the record. It is a nice little breath at the end.

What have been the biggest realizations you’ve had of being working musicians?

MB: I think maybe for me, I’ve learned that there’s kind of an endless amount of resilience needed. You’re constantly faced with just things you need to get through, to solve. I don’t even know if I would call that a music thing, though. I think that’s just like a growing-up thing.

TC: One thing for me is I didn’t realize how hard it would be to find creative time when you’re a full-time creative. We are full-time musicians, we’re on tour a lot of the time, and then we get home and there’s a lot of work to do. It’s almost harder to schedule the creative time than it is to schedule the work. I never thought it would be hard to find that balance.

Did this album change you in any way?

MB: This record showed all three of us that there was another level to get to and that there are endless places of growth that we will find. I think we dug deep as a band and it has continued to be rewarding for those reasons. The further we dig, the better it is. It does just keep getting better.

With the release, the songs no longer belong to you, but the world. What’s that experience?

TC: It will be interesting to see how this one feels, because this one feels bigger than our previous projects. We talk about this a lot with our songs going through different phases of us letting them go. I think the biggest one for me of letting songs go is starting to play them live. We’ve played all of these songs live before for a while. That moment, for me, is the biggest in terms of feeling like releasing full control of it, and it becoming the world’s and not ours anymore.

MB: We haven’t released something at this level before, so I don’t know. I’m excited to see how it feels releasing the whole project. Last year’s release was an EP. I think that if I’m defining what feels different about an EP versus an album, it’s like Teddy saying that this feels bigger than anything before; it’s the amount of energy we put into creating the music – the amount of energy we’ve put into getting it out to people. It’s just like we’re putting so much behind it.

SL: I’m so excited to see, to know that a listener’s first experience of Palmyra could be Restless, that the first thing that they hear is something that of all of the music we’ve put out, we have been proud of, and has been a really good snapshot of where we are at the present time.

Photo Credit: Rett Rogers