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.
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.
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.
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).”
“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.
Need support? Eachof thesedirectories includes instructions for submitting your own fundraiser, if applicable. Giving support? Find countless fundraisers and offer direct support here, here, and here.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
BGS is pleased to announce a new partnership with its signature podcast, Basic Folk, which is now an official BGS production! Hosted by Cindy Howes & lizzie no, Basic Folk had been previously distributed on the BGS Podcast Network since 2021, but now officially becomes part of our brand’s stable of first-rate, original shows. We’re excited to continue to invest in this superlative folk podcast with creative visuals, more live appearances, and our commitment to fresh and envelope-pushing editorial content front-and-center. This announcement follows the recent debut of Basic Folk’s brand new logo (designed by Belhum) and theme song (composed and performed by Dietrich Strause), which both festively mark this new era of collaboration.
“BGS is one of the coolest media platforms in any musical space,” the hosts share via press release. “As the landscape of podcasting, social media, and roots music evolves at hyperspeed, we are stoked to be docked on ‘The International Space Station’ known as BGS. Our evolution is tied in with theirs. Cheers to another year of telling folk stories and making queer mischief on Basic Folk.”
2025 is already destined to be big for Basic Folk. The show and its hosts will be back onboard Cayamo’s signature roots music cruise, Journey Through Song – and with even more live events to come throughout the year. Already we have brand new interviews with the legendary Dobro player Jerry Douglas and visceral folk-artist Lutalo on the docket for January. Later this winter, Basic Folk will reach the momentous mile marker of their 300th episode.
“The spirit and mission of BGS are completely in line with Basic Folk,” Howes says. “It’s an honor to create this platform alongside BGS to dig deep into artists’ perspectives of the human condition. It only makes sense for Basic Folk to do the work of dignifying folk musicians in collaboration with one of the most rad music orgs operating today.”
Since 2018, Basic Folk has uplifted under-the-radar roots musicians by providing a platform that they might not otherwise have, alongside interviews from GRAMMY-winning guitar gods like Molly Tuttle, or Haitian American folk legends like Leyla McCalla, or deep feelers like legendary songwriter John Hiatt. The show is dedicated to showcasing the best in folk, bluegrass, acoustic, and Americana while including Black, Brown, and queer folx who have been excluded from the folk world or felt like they did not belong.
Cindy & lizzie each bring unique perspectives to their honest conversations with folk professionals. Basic Folk is equally dedicated to repainting the broad landscape of folk music as we are to tearing down the ivory towers of the music industry. BGS is proud to welcome the show into our family of programs.
Artist:Lily Talmers Hometown: Birmingham, Michigan and Brooklyn, New York Album:It Is Cyclical, Missing You Personal nicknames: To most people I’m just Lily or LT. Though… I’ve long been just a hair away from changing my moniker from my real name to “Scary Magdalene.”
Which artist has influenced you the most – and how?
Judee Sill has been so huge for me – there is such musical intricacy to her work and to the metaphors she works with in writing. She just goes beyond the script of singer-songwriter in every way. She is really playing! With texture and tone and size and scope on every level – lyricism, meaning, arrangement, melody, harmony. She was just so devoted to every facet of the craft, and her songs thematically are themselves devotional.
As far as contemporaries go, though, Madison Cunningham has also totally changed my hopes and dreams. Her ways of being and writing have granted me permissions and reminders as simple as, “Women can be forces on the guitar!” and as wide as, “You can trust your audience to hold depth and complexity!” Her devotion to craft, like Judee’s, is the underlying thing that moves me.
What other art forms – literature, film, dance, painting, etc. – inform your music?
Does teaching count as an art form? I have taught or studied literature formally for the last 10 years off and on. I could rattle off a bunch of titles or something, but to be honest a huge part of my music and craft has to do with performing. I’ve learned so much about the type of performer and space holder I want to be by trying and failing at teaching and witnessing some really brilliant colleagues. It’s influenced everything – my body language, my attention, my ability to embody and to really mean what I’m saying or singing.
I taught literature to college students for four years at an alternative/outdoor education program called the New England Literature Program. I’ve been hugely impacted by the many ways one can go about instructing someone else to undergo a creative act, be it writing or interpreting writing. I’m always floored by what can be done by a group of people just paying attention to a work of art or piece of writing. And that practice of noticing and paying attention is like 80% of how I’ve gotten any good at writing songs or playing music.
How often do you hide behind a character in a song or use “you” when it’s actually “me”?
In a word, “often”! I think we’re only really capable of seeing in others the things that we most intimately witness in ourselves. So, if a song is about betrayal, it’s writing both of the betrayer and the betrayed, as if they’re separate people. But, usually, I’m reporting with a real understanding of both sides because I am both, the betrayer and the betrayed, at once! And, if I don’t realize at the time of writing the song that I am both, usually my life reveals it to me somewhere down the line. I hear the accusations and questions and outcries of the songs differently with time. People in my life have a deep impact on me, but a lot of my best songs emerge from the many binaries and paradoxes of my internal world and less often from literal features of my life.
Does pineapple really belong on pizza?
Absolutely. I feel like people who can’t accept this are still crying themselves a river over Dylan going electric. Things that seem like they shouldn’t work often do work! Get with it!! Having a pineapple-goes-on-pizza attitude bodes well with making music too – you should always say yes to inspired ideas that sound weird or impossible. And if it works, it just does. There doesn’t need to be theoretical sense-making of it all.
What is a genre, album, artist, musician, or song that you adore that would surprise people?
HA! I love this question. May the world know that I love Celine Dion. Particularly her French records – D’eux or On Ne Change Pas. When I’m sad I like to watch this video of her singing a Christmas song on TV when she was a teenager and being surprised by her family. I was shown her music in high school French class and have always loved her drama and the way she really dignifies the figure of “singer.”
We decided to kick off 2025 on Only Vans with a conversation with one of my oldest friends in the music biz, Kyle Park. He is a brilliant and hilarious mind with lots of great insight into being a professional musician. We talk about gator hunting, Texas wine country, his new band The Texas Trio, and even sleep schedules. Hope you enjoy!
On today’s episode of Only Vans, I talk to my longtime friend Kyle Park, who is a staple of the Texas music scene and beyond. He keeps impressing us with his records and, of course, his newest project, The Texas Trio, which I love. The members of the trio are GRAMMY-award winning fiddle player Jason Roberts and George Strait’s Ace in the Hole band keyboardist John Michael Whitby. (John Michael made me play piano with them one time at Steamboat Musicfest after I had drank a bunch of beers and I meant to call him out on that on the podcast! What the heck?)
I also think it’s crazy that 70 shows a year is cutting WAY back for people like Kyle and I. That’s still a lot.
Quick note: I talk about my favorite recording engineer in Nashville and I totally blank on his name because, hello no sleep. Sorry Chad Carlson, I totally know your name and you’re the dang best!
Check out Kyle’s new ventures and for sure the beautiful Cross Mountain Vineyards wedding and event venue online or on Instagram! It is in wine country in Fredericksburg, Texas, and it’s gorgeous (we filmed the podcast there and producer Kyle and I got a private tour). I am so thankful to my great friend Kyle Park for joining me.
Thanks to our sponsors, Hand Drawn Pressing & CH Lonestar Promo!
When one really digs below the surface of Mon Rovîa, there’s this intricate kaleidoscope of self, this winding path where the road to the here and now for the singer-songwriter has truly been one of restless resilience, dogged passion, and spiritual curiosity.
The rising artist has already lived this whirlwind existence of trials and tribulations, but also one of triumph and transcendence. Born in the West African country of Liberia, Mon Rovîa (taking his stage name from Liberia’s capital city) was adopted by Christian missionaries and taken from his homeland in the midst of an extremely violent and daunting civil war,
From there, Mon Rovîa bounced around the United States in a highly religious household, one where he wasn’t exposed to modern culture or the endless depths of music, either new or old. But, nonetheless, he fostered many existential questions about his unfolding life, with one main query in the forefront: Who am I?
The intricate nature of Mon Rovîa became heavy and tumultuous within his heart and soul, these deep layers of internal conflict. Being an immigrant in America. Being a Black man raised in a white family. Being adopted with no sense of his biological parents. And being filled with survivor’s guilt about leaving Liberia.
Yet, it was writing in his journals that launched the long process of healing and understanding within Mon Rovîa. Those words, thoughts and emotions soon took shape as songs, all while he began to learn to play the ukulele, guitar and other instruments. Add into that, his continued exploration of recorded music itself.
What has resulted is this unique tone, a vibrant crossroads of indie-folk, Americana, and shoegaze pop stylings, with many viewing Mon Rovîa as a talented rising voice in the Afro-Appalachian folk scene.
Fast-forward to 2025, where Mon Rovîa has become a very popular star on TikTok, yet his soothing sounds and melodies echo far across the massive social media platform. Several studio EPs have been released to wide acclaim, with the latest, Act 4: Atonement, putting a period on this chapter of his art – his eyes now aimed at the unknown horizon of his intent, head held high and optimistic.
When you’re looking out the window these days – in terms of your career, where the music’s going, and also where you’re going – what are you seeing?
Mon Rovîa: From even last year, I think things have accelerated a lot faster than I would’ve hoped in music, to be honest. It still seems really fresh though. It’s a lot of taking in the new fans and a lot of the joy that’s come with the acceptance of the music on a broader scale. At times, I wonder if I was really prepared for all of it, because a lot of these songs and a lot of the roadmap was written from a place of deep sadness and things that I was going through at the time. It’s crazy when you get to the place of living the thing you hoped for and realize that, “Oh man, there’s longevity that needs to be tied along with it now, since it’s becoming something that people are really desiring.” But, I’m very thankful. I try to be truly in tune with my energy and spirit. The world is super heavy and I tend to feel it a lot.
As things get crazier for you, expectations may shift and things change. How do you keep that piece of you that’s honest and real intact in your music?
A lot of it is, for me at least, having perspective. I know that’s easier said than done. But, being able to understand that you’re doing what you love and to be honest with whatever it is you’re presenting. Write what you know, write what you feel.
Your popularity soared through TikTok and now you’re playing more live shows. Has that been an interesting transition in being face to face with your fans that normally see you from behind a screen?
Absolutely. It’s totally different. I’m a pretty quiet, shy person. So now, transitioning to moving from the screen and having that barrier, that river that can divide, all the little things that come into play when you’re face to face? It was a little bit scary at first, especially with the first couple tours we did. With being in front of a crowd, the most important piece I think that I’ve learned now is the stories that I’m telling are the tales of my journey with each song. As I play music, that’s helped me become a lot more confident onstage, because I know what I’m speaking about and I know what the songs are about. It’s not this kind of idleness and just good music to listen to. I try to take the listener a little bit deeper, and that’s fun for me to do that. It creates a lot more fun. I’m just not someone that likes to be in front of a lot of people or be the center of attention, to be honest. I prefer writing things in silence, being in my room and contemplating.
With all of this going on, you’re also on this journey of finding yourself and figuring out who you are, where you came from, and where you’re going.
I think every adopted kid eventually hits the point where they want to know so many different things about their life, their story, what their background was. And that’s what was happening to me around the time of [my 2021 album] Dark Continent. And that’s even before we were taking this route of Afro-Appalachia. But, it led me to dive deeper into music and I just happened to be [living in Chattanooga, Tennessee]. Being in this area helped me to dive deeper into where all this music kind of came from and the history [behind folk, bluegrass, and Americana]. So here I am, just a Liberian refugee, but somehow in the perfect hands of history learning from where I was, not necessarily anything else. It is a very full circle moment.
That’s got to be a lot to wrestle with as you get older and you become your own person. I mean, there’s a lot of layers there.
So many layers. But don’t forget, there’s that layer of being the Black kid in a white missionary Christian family. And then the experience of growing up Black in that private school kind of world, having no tie to the African American experience. Being exiled as well from that group, because I didn’t have the same upbringing. I was always looked at as being a white Black person, a Black person that spoke white, because I spoke pretty properly. Kids that have my experience are very lonely, you know? There’s not really a place you fit, because you don’t fit with the white kids because you’re Black in their eyes, clearly. And then the African Americans don’t accept you because you don’t know their world either.
It was a very tough upbringing. I was very quiet and I watched a lot. I learned how to be what I am in social settings, how to relate to [others] and keep things to myself a lot, just try to fit in as best as possible. It was tough. It was lonely. Music didn’t really come to me as Mon Rovîa until 2018, and that’s when I really started to take music a little bit more seriously. [Growing up], it was more of an outlet. It was just a fun thing I did with my brothers. I didn’t think of a career or me being good at it, because nobody said I was good at music or writing music. My friends did like my writing. They thought I was very clever, but I didn’t consider it for myself at that time. I just did it.
With this period of your life and career, it seems Act 4: Atonement seems like the end of the beginning of this chapter of your music and your journey.
Yeah. That’s what Atonement is. It’s the end of the beginning. Everyone is a hero in this story of life. So, everyone has their hero’s journey, whatever that is to them. Some don’t make it to becoming the hero, which is a tragic thing. And some do, but everyone has that journey in their life. For me, this atonement ending is the start of what I am now. I think it gets me to this place where I’ve gone through a lot of difficult things. Hopefully now, in my next chapters of Mon Rovîa, whatever that is, I can atone to the people – people that are hurting and going through different things. The point is, I can hopefully now be some kind of light to these people, where I can tell them things I’ve learned along the way. And hopefully it helps them through their things and through their time. That’s the important piece of what atonement is – the knowledge then turns hopefully to wisdom.
Have you been back to Liberia at all?
The last time I was there I was 10 or so. But, I’m supposed to go back next year to see my sister and brother. They still live there.
Have you tracked down your parents?
My mother passed away during the war and my father also did. I keep in contact with my sister, and that’s only recently. Growing up, these people were not in my thoughts. I tried to forget a lot of these things and just assimilate to American culture. It wasn’t until I was older that that guilt set in where I realized, “Man, I hadn’t even thought about anybody else in my country or the gift that it is to be chosen,” because it could have been my sister or brother that was chosen to come to America. I was just picked out of the group of them like, “Hey, he should go with this missionary family.” So, a lot of those things didn’t even come to my mind until I was older, to really see how much time I wasted absolutely doing nothing for anyone else but myself in this place. At that time, I was going through a lot of different vices and dealing with a lot of different bad things. I was constantly drinking and deep into my depression and lack of understanding of what my purpose was at all.
Or who you are.
I didn’t know who I was. I didn’t really know my past and history. I had glimpses of it from just some things my adopted parents had told me. But, I hadn’t dove into it until I contacted my sister and heard the real thing, the truth of it all. The goal is to go back [to Liberia] and try to get some colors from my native country and, and just, you know, spend some time with people that I haven’t seen in a long time and learn. The last time I went was really difficult. When I was there, it was in the middle of the second civil war and we ended up staying longer than expected because the child soldiers had taken over the capital city of Monrovia. It was a really scary time and that was the last memory of Liberia during the conflict. That’s a whole other cathartic piece of my journey, to [once again] step foot on that soil. I think once I step foot on that soil, I’ll probably weep. A lot of things have been bottled up and lodged into different areas of my body, [and will be] released onto the continent. But, not until I go there. My story won’t end until I go back. That’s a major piece.
You have such an interesting perspective, because I think a lot of times people in this country take things for granted, where they’ve either never traveled out of this country or they’re not from other countries. I would surmise that you probably see things that are beautiful in this country that a lot of us don’t acknowledge.
Yeah. There’s so much beauty in this country. Through all of the tirades against each other, there is still so much goodness. I mean, being able to walk out your door and be able to get anything you want at a store that’s there and not be–
Afraid to go for that walk.
Not afraid to go, yeah. Not afraid to go on that walk knowing I might not come home today, and there’s many countries like that currently. People don’t even have that freedom to go out their door and just see something and or go walk in the woods.
Or make an album.
Or make an album. It’s crazy to me that we forget so easily the good things when times are tough. And when times are tough, you think that the good won’t come back again. Man’s memory is so short and it’s really the plague.
That’s really what kills us all is that our memory is terrible. In times of famine, you never think good will come again. So, you lose hope. But, everything’s cyclical as well. Good comes back and hard times come again. And then you weathered the bad time before, but you forget that you weathered it, so you suffer. That’s us. That’s humanity.
As usual, it’s Friday and we’ve got a handful of videos and tracks you gotta hear this week!
Kicking us off, bluegrass and old-time duo Golden Shoals offer their fresh, topical take on a classic from the American songbook with “New White House Blues.” Then, singer-songwriter Heather Maloney brings us along through a “Labyrinth in the Weeds,” a nostalgic track about the circuitous, non-linear quality of grief and loss.
GRAMMY-nominated bluegrass supergroup Sister Sadie return to the round-up with a new single, “If I Don’t Have You,” a Dani Flowers-penned love song that’s as good as love songs get – because it keeps it simple. To wrap up this edition, Evan Westfall (who you may know from CAAMP), debuts a fascinating and ethereal instrumental, “SISDM,” that’s timeless and modern all at once.
They’re all right here, on BGS, and you know what we think– You Gotta Hear This!
Golden Shoals, “New White House Blues”
Artist:Golden Shoals Hometown: Nashville, Tennessee / Vancouver, British Columbia Song: “New White House Blues” Album:The Dream and the Hunger Release Date: January 17, 2025 (single)
In Their Words: “At the center of a Venn diagram featuring history, politics, and bluegrass music is a special kind of nerd. ‘White House Blues’ has always been a favorite of mine and I wanted to dive deeper into the story behind the McKinley assassination. The culprit, Leon Czgolsz (who is unnamed in ‘White House Blues’), was disillusioned by the inequity of the Gilded Age, and felt his actions would usher in a revolution for the working class. He truly was the Luigi Mangione of his day. The consequent presidency of Teddy Roosevelt looks like a win for the common man, but that idea is a house of cards. The motives of these assassins resonate with me, but these moments highlight this fact: without collective action, true and lasting change will never come. Through this 10-verse murder ballad, we pay tribute to Charlie Poole’s initial recording of ‘White House Blues’ by gradually speeding up, which builds tension and atmosphere.” – Mark Kilianski
Heather Maloney, “Labyrinth in the Weeds”
Artist:Heather Maloney Hometown: Northampton, Massachusetts Song: “Labyrinth in the Weeds” Album:Exploding Star Release Date: January 31, 2025 Label: Signature Sounds
In Their Words: “This song is an ode to one of my earliest and most favorite memories at my childhood home, which was at the edge of the Appalachians in northwest New Jersey. My dad would let the grass in the field grow until late summer. When it came time to mow, he didn’t cut it down all at once– he’d weave through on the John Deere, making a sort-of maze for us kids and we’d follow behind.
“I remember how it felt so viscerally; the smell of the grass, the crunch under my feet, and especially the giddy feeling of losing sight of him when he rounded a new corner. After he died this actually came to mind. I had a sense that my dad, who was always making a game out of things, had just rounded another kind of new corner I couldn’t yet see past. It was a comforting thought and the inspiration for the song.” – Heather Maloney
Sister Sadie, “If I Don’t Have You”
Artist:Sister Sadie Hometown: Nashville, Tennessee Song: “If I Don’t Have You” Release Date: January 10, 2025 Label: Mountain Home Music Company
In Their Words: “I don’t write too many love songs. Most of the songs in my catalog are admittedly pretty depressing. But ‘If I Don’t Have You’ is just that – a love song about loving someone so much that everything you’ve ever wanted or hoped to accomplish now pales in comparison to the need you have to be with that person.” – Dani Flowers
“Dani Flowers came to me with this sweet melody and the first two lines of this song. We finished it that day. This is my favorite kind of love song; simple melody and simple lyrics. It doesn’t get much better than Dani’s angelic voice singing about how going through life and experiencing the most amazing things wouldn’t mean half as much ‘If I Don’t Have You.'” – Deanie Richardson
Track Credits: Dave Racine – drums Deanie Richardson – fiddle Gena Britt – banjo Mary Meyer – mandolin, piano Maddie Dalton – Upright bass Seth Taylor – Acoustic guitar, electric guitar Dani Flowers – Lead vocals Jaelee Roberts – Harmony vocal
Evan Westfall, “SISDM”
Artist:Evan Westfall Hometown: Columbus, Ohio Song: “SISDM” Album:Is This Our Exit? Release Date: January 8, 2024 (single); January 24, 2024 (album) Label: Super Sport Records
In Their Words: “This song came together by accident after I started tuning my guitar with no direction and stumbled into the tuning of EBEF#BD#. This song title is a reference to an essay by the Columbus-based poet Hanif Abdurraqib about the transition from summer to fall. You can really feel that shift in seasons here in Ohio, the excitement that comes with the fresh start of something like a new school year or football season, even though that season ends up in bare trees and cold grey skies. It’s a hopeful melody, but overly dramatic.” – Evan Westfall
Track Credits: Evan Westfall – Guitars, banjo, drums Dan Alvarez – Guitars, banjo, bass, drums Jordan Dunn-Pilz – Guitars, drums
Photo Credit: Golden Shoals by Mike Dunn USA; Sister Sadie by Allister Ann.
Joy Clark and Ani DiFranco connected over something unexpected: a Christmas song. Slated to perform at the same benefit show in 2022, the two singer-songwriter-guitarists were grouped to take the stage together and needed a holiday tune, ideally an original one. Clark’s “Gumbo Christmas” made it to DiFranco before the show, and the legendary artist and founder of Righteous Babe Records heard a hit. Once the pair synced up, they felt an instant musical kinship, and it wouldn’t be long before DiFranco signed Clark to her label.
Last October, Clark released her critically acclaimed debut album, Tell It to the Wind. Informed by her experience as a side player and imbued with a deep reverence for her craft as a solo artist, the record was one of 2024’s finest releases, announcing Clark as an artist with a keen sense of who she is and what she wants to create. The album sonically pulls from Clark’s roots as a Louisiana native and thematically from her experiences as a Black and queer woman making her way through the world. Highlights include “Lesson,” a bluesy, groovy reminder to keep your head up in the face of struggle, and the record’s vulnerable closing title track.
Before the holiday break, BGS caught up with DiFranco and Clark over Zoom to chat about Clark’s signing to Righteous Babe, her album Tell It to the Wind, and what she and DiFranco admire most in one another – as they prepare to hit the road together on tour next month.
Let’s start by having you share how you met and what drew you to one another.
Joy Clark: Well, it started with a Christmas song. It was 2022, and we were both on a Christmas show. There was a big lineup, with Big Freedia, John Goodman, and a lot of other people. So, they tried to group the performers together and I got grouped with Ani and Dayna Kurtz, and I happen to have a Christmas song called “Gumbo Christmas.” My agent contacted me and said, “Hey, can you make a recording of your song and send it to Ani?” He sent it to Ani and I heard back that it was a hit. She liked the song. So, they grouped us together and we performed it.
Ani DiFranco: It’s a total hit, this song. I mean, I don’t understand why people are not holding hands all over America singing this song right now.
JC: I wrote about my grandmother making gumbo every Christmas, it got to Ani, and I think that’s how I got on the radar.
AD: From my perspective, I’m asked to do a benefit and it’s just tons of New Orleans usual suspects involved, like she said. Then, I found out a little later everybody had to play Christmas songs for this thing. I was thinking I’d just show up and play a song or two of my own. I’m like, “Oh, man, Christmas. What the hell?” So, I’m combing through Christmas songs, and I’m like, “I don’t know.” And then I thought, “Oh, I’ll just write one. I’ll write a Christmas song.” I pounded my head against that wall for a few days and discovered that it’s harder than you think to write a Christmas song that anybody ever wants to hear.
Finally, somebody rescued me by saying, “Well, you know, Joy’s got a Christmas song. Maybe you could sing with Joy Clark.” And in comes this little video of Joy singing. I was like, “Oh, my God, that’s the best. That’s the best.” Now I know how hard it is to write a Christmas song, so my respect for this woman is already right up here for making this sweet, soulful Christmas song. And then [Joy] came and recorded it.
You don’t hear many artists getting signed off a Christmas song or even having that be their entry point to meeting their eventual label. That’s a great story.
AD: It was also just hooking up, you know, in person, doing a little rehearsal at Joy’s house, and then going and doing the gig. We got to hang out. It’s not just like I heard the song somewhere. I got to see firsthand that Joy can play and sing her ass off and was an artist in the world doing her thing. I always say that we’re not really a label with tons of resources that can create something out of nothing, or market somebody into existence or something. But what we can do is support working artists and try to get behind them and help facilitate what they’re already doing.
JC: I think that’s the cool part, because I’ve been a working musician for a long time. And not just being Joy Clark, just writing my songs and performing – I played in a lot of different bands, playing guitar, singing harmony. … I’ve really just been working, been doing the thing. I played as a side person for a long time, which is how you learn. That’s how you learn to just be a musician. I feel like that’s been a gift for me. So, now to be able to just to step out up front and write and put out music, I feel pretty lucky. But it also feels really right.
It sounds like you came into the picture with a fully realized sense of who you are and the kind of music you make and what you want to do. And it sounds like the label is a great home for artists like that, who already have strong senses of self and don’t necessarily need, like you mentioned, Ani, a lot of development and marketing.
AD: Certainly at Righteous Babe, you’re not going to have some pencil pusher telling you what you should do with your songs. The thing about an artist-run label is the artist has to follow their heart. That much is clear at Righteous Babe.
Joy, I’m going back to what you were saying a moment ago about being a side player and the opportunities that provides – or sometimes forces – for you to adapt and learn and be able to do things on the fly. How do you feel that those experiences have shaped your solo work?
JC: There’s pressure in it, but then there’s not really pressure, too, because it’s not about me. I think it allows me to just be and not think about, “What do I look like?” or “How do I feel about this certain thing?” It’s giving somebody else space to do their thing. And that gave me a lot of confidence, actually. It gave me a lot of freedom. … I think that helped me step into my work, because when you do need people, when you do need support, you get both sides of it. I think it’s made me more compassionate. I hope I’m not an ass. I don’t think I’m an asshole. [Laughs] I understand what it is to support somebody’s work.
AD: I can really relate, too. I remember the first time I worked on somebody else’s record that wasn’t my shit, and I was like, “Whoa. This is all the fun of making music without the crushing emotional baggage of exposing your guts and putting yourself up for judgment.” So, I completely hear what you’re saying about how it’s a different experience to make music when you’re not on the hot seat, when it’s not you being judged. I love working on other people’s music for exactly that reason. It’s so freeing emotionally. … And now we’re about to go out to make some live music together. That will be fun times.
I wanted to ask about that. As you get ready to hit the road together, is there anything you can share about your plans, or what you’re looking forward to, in particular, about getting to share a bill with one another?
AD: Another thing that is always in the back of my mind with Righteous Babe, if we’re considering releasing a record, is whether this is an artist we could have the means to help. Somebody came to us with a very different genre of music recently and it was a super cool record, but I just thought, “I don’t know how to get to the right audience and get this project where it needs to go.” But from the minute I met Joy and saw her play and interact with an audience, I thought to myself, “My audience will love this person.” So, that’s always in the back of my mind, like, if we put out a record on Righteous Babe, could we do shows together? That’s a really easy way for me to assemble a bunch of people and then point, “Look at her. Check this out.” I just know that they’ll eat you up, Joy. And I haven’t told you yet, but I was hoping to ask you if we could play a song or two together.
JC: Of course! Just let me know what you want. I’ve already been listening. You know it.
AD: I’ll text them to you.
JC: One thing I’m looking forward to is being on a bus. My dates have been fly, pick up a car, then drive, you know? And it’s not like I have a right hand. It’s me and my guitar, driving. When I’m driving, I can’t do anything.
AD: And it’s exhausting. Most of your energy is zapped when you get to the gig.
JC: Yeah, it’s like, “Can I just sit in the green room? Can I just recover from that?” I’m looking forward to having that tour experience of being on a bus and chatting it up and maybe even writing. We’ll see if I can actually write on the road.
AD: Yeah, you need a certain amount of space just to do that, like your own dressing room and your own hotel room. It’s so hard when you’re just out there driving around, doing all the things. Funnily enough, Joy and I were just at another benefit the other night, both playing a tribute to Irma Thomas, singing Irma Thomas songs and benefiting the New Orleans Musicians’ Clinic. We were joking and I was like, “You got to be careful because once you get on that bus, it’s so hard to get off.”
JC: I can feel that coming. I’m looking forward, too, because I’ve really only seen Ani perform once, at French Quarter Fest in 2023. Now, I get to check out the show night after night.
Ani, you mentioned a moment ago that feeling of knowing that your audience will love Joy’s music. I see a lot of connection points in what both of you do. There’s a lot of vulnerability there, for one – I think you described it as “exposing your guts” earlier, Ani, and that feels true for both of you, at least from my perspective as a listener. What points of connection do you see in one another’s music?
JC: I think Ani is a badass guitarist. I respect that, because it takes a lot to be able to play with the band and then to just be a person on stage with a guitar. I think I really connect with that fingerstyle picking. I prefer fingerstyle because it gives you a lot of different textures and it gives you different choices. Instead of strum – a strum is great, it’s just when you can pick, there are these other things happening. These little flavors and lines that I connect with, because that’s the type of player I am. I don’t have the picks on my fingers, it’s just my fingers. But I think that’s how I connect [to the instrument].
AD: Ditto for me. Keep those naked fingers, because it sounds so much better. I put on these plastic nails, but that’s just because I get so violent with my guitar and I bloody myself if I don’t have them. But the sound is so, so great with the real finger and the real nail. I’m really more of a rhythm player, and I just sort of play by ear, but you can play solos. You know what key we’re in and what the notes are supposed to go with that – all the things that I don’t actually freaking know. [Laughs]
I’m just super impressed with anybody who can legitimately play guitar like you do. There’s knowing how to play or knowing how to sing or this or that, and then there’s knowing how to stand there alone on stage and hold an audience. And Joy can do that, too.
I’m glad y’all brought up each other’s guitar playing, because there’s clearly so much passion and care there for both of you. And I don’t think we ask musicians about their instruments enough. People ask a lot of questions about songwriting and lyrics but not so much about, say, devising chord progressions. How does incorporating guitar into your songs work for each of you?
JC: It’s always different. When I write, there is no one way that it comes. But there is a feeling. There are colors that appear. Sometimes, there are sounds that come out. But one thing that I can say, for me, is that [writing] happens simultaneously with messing around on a guitar. I often sing as I play. I’m not usually writing. I do write, but the core of it is a feeling. If it’s something sentimental, then sentimental lines appear. Sometimes it happens if I’m driving, then I pick up my phone and I hum, and then when I pick up the guitar, I’m flowing. There’s an improvisation that happens and it’s a little bit mysterious. I don’t really understand it. It’s just mystery. But I love chords and I love to pick out cool shit. Then, I just put words to the thing that I’m picking.
AD: I can basically relate to everything you’re saying. Same for me. It’s different all the time. There’s no, like, set process, of course, and each song happens in a different way. But generally, it’s just being able to hang out with your instrument and just be with your guitar, hang out, and process your feelings with it. I miss that myself in life these days. I’m older and at a different point in my road than Joy. And I, many moments, wish I could put myself back where you are, Joy, just embarking on something and being really focused and having that guitar by your side all the time. Now, my kids are in the way most of the time, you know? [Laughs] … But that’s really what it is, having a relationship with the guitar that deepens and deepens. The understanding between you and this instrument deepens, and the guitar starts finishing your sentences.
JC: You can find some really pretty jewels in something that didn’t really feel good [while] writing it. But I want something to grow on me. Maybe it doesn’t fit so perfectly, but in time, “Oh, yeah, that does make sense.”
AD: I feel like that’s what you want for other people, too. It’s not necessarily to always be making songs that are instantly like, “Oh, Skittles! It’s sweet and fruity.” But, something that, maybe, on repeated listens, it takes its time to get under somebody’s skin. Then it really lives there. … What I’ve learned over many years and many albums and hundreds of songs is that, even after you get back to your disillusionment or you sour on something that’s not new anymore, you just have to have faith that somebody out there in the world is still going to have that first experience that you had with it. Somebody is going to feel that way about it, even if it’s not you anymore.
That feels like a lovely place to wrap. Before we sign off, do you have any parting words for one another?
JC: I’m really freaking grateful. I’ve been doing my work and I feel pretty lucky that people want to hear what I have to say. And I feel really lucky to have an album out on Righteous Babe, on your label, Ani. I feel like it’s right. I just turned 40 a couple months ago, and I think it’s pretty fantastic to feel like I’ve just started.
AD: Well, I would say – in a way that’s not weird, in a way that [reflects] that we’re on the same level – that I’m proud of you. It makes me so happy to see you stepping into yourself and your music and stepping out there in the world. You’ve paid a lot of dues and you completely deserve this moment. I can’t wait to see what’s next.
Photo Credit: Joy Clark by Steve Rapport; Ani DiFranco by Shervin Lainez.
Jerry Douglas is widely regarded as the best Dobro player in the world. Alison Krauss, Emmylou Harris, and James Taylor are counted among his many collaborators and his four-decade career has earned him 16 GRAMMY Awards and numerous other accolades. In our Basic Folk conversation, he shares stories about his upbringing in Warren, Ohio, where his father’s steel mill job and love for music instilled in him a strong work ethic and a passion for playing. He also talks about getting scouted as a teenager by The Country Gentlemen, one of the greatest bluegrass bands ever, who eventually took young Jerry on tour.
In addition, we discuss Douglas’ latest album, The Set, which showcases his mastery of the resophonic guitar and features a unique blend of bluegrass, country, and Americana sounds. He also opens up about his experiences working with Molly Tuttle, John Hiatt, and other notable musicians, highlighting the importance of collaboration and creative freedom. Our chat offers a glimpse into Jerry Douglas’ life, influences, and artistic approach through his humility, humor, and dedication to his craft.
Photo Credit: Scott Simontacchi
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