MIXTAPE: Flamy Grant’s Songs for Healing Gay Religious Trauma

Posted on by Justin Hiltner

Welcome to the playlist you probably didn’t have on your bingo card this year: a series of songs spanning from gospel music to ’90s folk to contemporary singer-songwriters, all curated by a drag queen with a number one Christian album under her belt. I’m Flamy Grant, and I’m honored that BGS invited me to share the songs that healed my very gay, very religious trauma.

My first record was called Bible Belt Baby, so I know a thing or two about growing up in the shadow of a religious fervor that wants boys to be boys, girls to be girls, and gays to keep it in the closet. Here are a few of the songs that helped me not only to come out, but to let this little light of mine keep shining in the faces of a lot of people who’d prefer it were hidden under a bushel. Not today, gatekeepers. Not today. – Flamy Grant

“If You Ever Leave” – Flamy Grant

Oh, hello darling. I’m a drag queen with wares to sell. Of course I’m starting off this playlist with my new single! It is, at least, very much on topic. This ballad from my forthcoming record, CHURCH, pretty much speaks for itself, but I will offer this one, brief, supplemental thought: if there’s a God demanding your worship, but as you get to know him you discover that you are capable of loving people better and more completely than he is… don’t worship that God. Girl… it’s a trap.

“Undamned” – Over the Rhine

Outside of Amy Grant, no artist has had as much of an impact on me as Ohio-based duo Over the Rhine. Karin and Linford have saved my life ten times over. “I’m not your little lost lamb, God might still get my world undamned.” This song somehow manages to be both defiant (personally, my favorite posture) and repentant. Brazenly owning your apostasy while unabashedly surrendering to a cosmic, supernatural love at the same time? Slay. (Bonus: Lucinda Williams delivers an absolutely divine featured vocal. Undamn me anyday, Over the Rhine.)

“Wrap My Arms Around Your Name” – Sarah Masen

When I was growing up, I was only allowed to listen to Christian music. Sarah Masen was always a bit of a square peg in a round Christian music industry hole, and one of the first songwriters I encountered who addressed the conflict, doubt, and dissonance inherent to the faith everyone else around her was putting such a sheen on.

From the first line, “Mystery’s walking on my head again,” I was hooked on this song about yearning to feel deeply spiritually connected. “Does hallelujah wear the same old face?” Excellent existential question, Sarah. Thanks for giving my teenage angst a place to freely ask it.

“Amy’s Song” – Matt Simons

Back in 2018, I was a worship leader for a queer-affirming church in San Diego and we decided for Pride month that year that we would put on a worship service that was 100% produced, led, and delivered by our queer members. I even wanted to make sure every song we sang had been written (or co-written, in this case) by a card-carrying member of the alphabet mafia. I found “Amy’s Song” and loved the music and the message: “Does your God really give a damn” about who I love?

The twist for me was in discovering that one of the song’s co-writers, and its namesake, Ames, and I had played a show together years before in when we were both closeted and going by different stage names. I led “Amy’s Song” at our church that Sunday and Ames and I have since reconnected online. We’ve even been talking about writing something together one of these days. “Amy’s Song 2: The Ballad of Flamy,” perhaps? (Pro tip: after you listen, go watch the music video and making-of mini-doc, both on Matt Simons’ YouTube page. Bring Kleenex.)

“breathe again” – Joy Oladokun

Honestly, it was hard to pick just one song from Joy Oladokun’s extensive repertoire of musical remedies for the religiously wronged. She is both plainspoken and poignant, capturing the heartbreak so many queer people experience when we grow up in families and cultures that suffocate us in a shame-inducing, manipulative desecration of divine love. Joy’s voice in this song just melts me, and it’s a breath of fresh air for the closeted kid I used to be when she uses it to sing, “If I hold my breath until I’m honest, will I ever breathe again?”

“Someday You’ll Wake Up Okay” – Spencer LaJoye

This is inner child work of the highest order and nobody translates the specific into the universal with such clarity as my friend Spencer. “You won’t hear me, but I’ll think it from the future.” Oof. Also, who knew healing your inner child could be such a bop?

“Holy Sunlight” – Steven Delopoulos

Something about the music of Stephen Delopoulos, who fronted the ’90s Christian band Burlap to Cashmere, just feels reverent. It’s like high-church Paul Simon. This song reminds me that even when we’re leaving, we’re really not. “Pack my luggage, fake a smile/ Don’t cry, we’re all connected like the ocean sea.”

“Faith” – Semler

No one is more emblematic of a reckoning for the Christian music industry to me than my pal Semler, who was the first out queer artist to have a number one Christian record a couple years back. In “Faith,” they are eye-level with the abusers of power in the church they’re confronting. “Don’t pretend I’m not your body.” GOOSEBUMPS, HUN. And it’s a song that somehow doubles as a powerful worship anthem of sorts for the disenfranchised? We’re here, we’re queer, and we still have faith, dear. I live.

“Shiloh” – Audrey Assad

I had stopped listening to CCM by the time Audrey got her record deal with juggernaut Christian label Sparrow Records back in 2010, so I missed most of her early career. But during the pandemic, I learned about this (wildly-talented) artist that Christian media outlets were criticizing for “backsliding.” Don’t tempt me with a good time, I said. Audrey and I have become friendly on social media since then, and she’s so much more than a good time. She’s a healer. This song in particular patches up a new part of me every time I hear it. God bless the ones who leave the church but never stop providing care for souls.

“The Way You Get Found” – Story & Tune

I’m proud to say I was the first person to ever hear this excellent song, in the basement of the San Diego house I shared during pandemic with its writers, Karyn and Ben. The line that got me then still gets me today: “I bless the way you carve your name on the gate-kept inner sanctums where they said you couldn’t stay.” Absolute pros, these two, crafting an artful turn of phrase that not only perfectly fits the demanding cadence of the song, but delivers a well-placed gut punch to folks who know what it’s like to stand up to religious bullies when they say we can’t be on their playground.

“Jacob from the Bible” – Jake Wesley Rogers

This song came through my Spotify algorithm one day and stopped me in my tracks. Of course, now Jake is a world famous colorful crooner and besties with Elton John, etc., but when this song came out, I was able to reach him online and successfully petitioned him to be on my podcast. You can still listen to that conversation. We talk about this song, where it came from, what it meant to each of us, and why Jake should definitely be our first gay president. For me, it feels like a life-giving extraction from all the oppressive weight of religious expectation. “I don’t want to be held down by a heavenly man.” Makes me think of Jacob from the Bible when he defeated the angel in an all night wrestling match. (Hot!) And honey, wrestling with God? Relatable.

“Testify to Love” – Wynonna

Okay, this might be the only bonafide CCM hit in the mix. It was originally recorded by Christian supergroup Avalon and if you were anywhere near Christianity in 1997/98, this song is In. Your. Bones. Every once in a while when I’m playing to an audience of a certain age — the ones who were in youth group about the same time as me — I’ll bust this out as a cover during my set and, well, let’s just say it’s so cute to watch half the room have a dramatic That’s So Raven-style flashback. But I propose to you that at the end of the day, it’s a gay song. I mean, the opening lyric is, “All the colors of the rainbow!” It’s all about how love wins!

What really seals the deal is Wynonna Judd’s countrified cover of the song from a very special episode of Touched by an Angel. I dare you to listen and not agree that Christianity peaked in 1997 and we should frankly just ignore everything that’s come out of evangelicalism since this song ruled the airwaves.

“House of Spirits” – Allman Brown

London-based singer-songwriter Allman Brown taps right into all of our generational trauma and father wounds with this achingly gorgeous spiritual about how it feels to sit vigil by the deathbed of a parent who “damned my soul to the fires.” As someone with a damaged and deeply strained relationship with an ultra-religious father who’s still alive, this song gives me a glimpse into the journey ahead, and I find myself praying along with Allman that one day that house of spirits “will feel like home.”

“What You Heard” – Amy Grant

An Amy Grant song on this list was inevitable, but far less likely is a song from a parent who learned better communication skills by going to family therapy with her kids. But that’s exactly what we have in this, the first new song from the Queen of Christian Pop in a decade. I saw Amy perform it last year and she told the story of how group therapy with her family helped her understand that some of the ways she thought she was communicating love to her kids weren’t exactly landing that way on their ears. It’s the kind of thing most survivors of religious trauma can only dream of: a God-fearing parent gaining perspective later in life and using therapy tools to change behavior? A better relationship through effective communication? May we all be so fortunate. But even if we’re not, my favorite diva (she would never call herself that, so someone has to) has gifted us with this beautifully-written song that shows it’s possible. Amy and amen.

“May I Suggest” – Susan Werner

I’ll leave you with the best benediction that’s ever been spoken (sung) over me. I wish someone had invited me to the Susan Werner party years ago, so I’m making it my mission to bring as many plus-ones as possible now that I’m here. Actually, in a way, I’ve been here since high school, I just didn’t know it. The first time I heard this song was as a cover by Ellis Paul and Vance Gilbert back in the late ’90s, but I just assumed it was theirs. Then about a year ago, a friend sent me a track by Susan called “Our Father,” in which she expertly/hilariously reimagines the Lord’s Prayer (“Deliver us from those who think they’re you”). I was hooked and started working my way through her catalog, but it wasn’t until I saw her live at the Kerrville Folk Festival earlier this year that I learned she was the composer of this song I loved when I was 17.

When she sat down at a baby grand and soulfully set out to convince a field full of festival-goers that “this is the best part of your life,” I openly wept. It’s tempting after you escape from oppressive, high-demand religion to fall into the trap of regret for a lost youth and years of missed chances. Susan invites us to consider the other side of that coin: thanks to the trauma you’ve survived, “Inside you know what’s yours to finally set right.” The next time Susan is anywhere near you, drag yourself (yes I said DRAG) and everyone you love to the show — and hope that she sings this benediction over you, too.

Photo Credit: Sydney Valiente

Emmy-Nominated Docuseries Highlights the Impact of STAX Records

Posted on by Justin Hiltner

It all began way back, nearly seventy years ago in Memphis, Tennessee, when an almost unremarkable thing happened: A record store opened its doors.

That a record store might exist in the home of the blues in 1957 was itself no remarkable thing. But this store, Satellite Records, was quite literally a sister operation to the recording studio next door. Satellite’s owner, Estelle Axton, was the older sister of the studio’s founder, Jim Stewart.

Stewart was a fiddler with a passion for country music. Long before the dominance of indie labels, Stewart had the idea to start his own studio and label, to get his music out to the masses. As luck would have it, his original country songs were… just fine. Nothing groundbreaking. But his work sparked the imagination of a young musician named David Porter, who strode into the studio one day and asked if he could lay down some tracks.

Long story short, Porter recruited some other artists who became a band known as Booker T. and the M.G.s – eventually the studio’s de facto house band. Suddenly, the label – named STAX as a combination of Jim and Estelle’s last names – was off to the races.

Now, a three-part docuseries from HBO titled STAX: Soulville USA is available for streaming on MAX. The series premiered at South by Southwest earlier this year and earned two Emmy Award nominations (Outstanding Documentary or Nonfiction Series and Outstanding Sound Mixing for a Nonfiction Program). While the series did not prevail in those categories, it is a powerful, thorough, emotional telling of the relationship between music, its makers, and the world in which they live.

The series’ director – Peabody, Emmy, and NAACP award-winner Jamila Wignot – strung together an incredible array of rare and never-before-shared footage of the rise and fall (and rise again) of STAX Records between 1961-1975. But footage isn’t just from inside the studio walls. We see musicians on their first trips to Europe, relaxing in the pool at the Lorraine Hotel – a frequent STAX hangout before it became the scene of Martin Luther King, Jr.’s assassination. There is footage from civil rights protests and speeches and moments of great grief and outrage. There are contemporary interviews with the musicians and staff of STAX and Satellite Records, including Axton and Stewart.

And always, at the heart of it all, there’s the music.

In a For Your Consideration panel also available on MAX, Mignot admitted that, when she was approached to direct the series, she was “really just into it for the music.”

“I thought it was going to be this great-big, beautiful music story,” she adds. “As I started to do more research, and particularly looking into the work that [STAX biographer] Rob Bowman had done, I understood that it was a much bigger story that touched on social issues, history, and [it] really was this beautiful story of these folks who were, I think, led by intuition and desire, and weren’t necessarily trying to do more than the things that they loved. But they were very responsive to the world that was around them.”

Of course, outside the walls of STAX studio and Satellite records, Black people were subject to the cultural and legal realities of living in the Jim Crow South.

“[Jim Crow] was too strong a system to tear down,” bandleader Booker T. notes. “In Memphis, you had to keep your mouth shut and hope for the best. Or fight.”

While that was the rule of the road outside, inside STAX studio, Booker T.’s band had two Black members and two white. Together, they developed an approach to Southern soul music that would become one of the most influential sounds of the 20th Century.

Granted, as the civil rights movement went through its various waves in Memphis and beyond, and STAX players marched on picket lines without their white bandmates beside them, this complicated interpersonal relationships in the studio. But the music continued to compel everyone forward. As a result, music fans got to find solace in some of the greatest roots recordings ever made.

The docuseries’ executive producer Michele Smith commented on the artists’ legacies in a recent phone conversation.

“Those artists were just teenagers who had a love for the music,” she says. “[They] just wanted to be heard. What they did not know at that time was they were forging a path to history. They were working, they did know that what they were doing was technically illegal in the Jim Crow South. … They were young people who just wanted to make music. And they did a whole lot more than that. Their music, to this day, will … outlive all of us. It’s globally renowned and it’s some of the best R&B soul music out there, sampled by young people today.”

Being able to watch this music get made is certainly one major draw of the series. Isaac Hayes and the Bar-Kays developing the “Theme from Shaft”; Sam & Dave rolling out “Soul Man” for a live audience the first time; and Otis Redding onstage at the Monterey Pop Festival.

In interview clips, STAX alumni recall how out-of-place Redding and his band were – sober and polished in their well-pressed suits – among the mostly white hippie, dropped-out crowd. Recognizing the one thread that connected him with his seemingly polar-opposite audience, Redding started his set by asking, “This is the love crowd, right? We all love each other, don’t we?” The crowd roared, so he closed his eyes and lit into “I’ve Been Loving You Too Long” with a passion and emotional clarity that was absolutely intoxicating.

“Otis Redding hit the stage,” recalled trumpet player Wayne Jackson. “All those hippies got quiet. They ain’t seen anything like us.”

Though that was the truth, it often was in those days of STAX artists making the rounds with their groundbreaking sound. But, certainly, nobody present for any of it – no matter if STAX was on its way up or its way down – would ever forget the way the music turned their soul.

Watch STAX: Soulsville USA via MAX.

Images courtesy of HBO.

You Gotta Hear This: New Music From Mason Via, Golden Shoals, and More

Posted on by Justin Hiltner

Our weekly premiere round-up kicks off this fine Friday with a new video from singer-songwriter Kelley Mickwee from her upcoming release; it’s the title track and her favorite song from her upcoming album, “Everything Beautiful.”

We continue with some bluegrassy old-time from duo Golden Shoals, showcasing “Milwaukee Blues,” a staple on their set lists and at their live performances. And, fellow bluegrass artist and songwriter Mason Via brings us his brand new single co-written with Charlie Chamberlain entitled, “Falling.”

To wrap up the week in premieres, don’t miss two new BGS-produced video sessions that hit the site this week. First, the latest in our Yamaha Sessions featuring shredder Trey Hensley, followed up by a bonus DelFest Session from Mountain Grass Unit celebrating their new EP, which dropped today.

It’s all right here on BGS and frankly, You Gotta Hear This!

Kelley Mickwee, “Everything Beautiful”

Artist: Kelley Mickwee
Hometown: Austin, Texas
Song: “Everything Beautiful”
Album: Everything Beautiful
Release Date: September 27, 2024
Label: Kelley Mickwee Music

In Their Words: “My favorite track on the record. A love song, which are rare and hard for me to write. This one started as a poem, sitting on my back porch one late afternoon as the dragonflies swarmed the yard and the hummingbirds fought over the feeder. I was all of a sudden just overcome with such deep love in my heart. Sent some words to my dear friend, Seth Walker, and he put this beautiful melody to it before I even woke up. It’s the first song we have written together of what I hope is many more to come.” – Kelley Mickwee

Golden Shoals, “Milwaukee Blues”

Artist: Golden Shoals
Hometown: Nashville, Tennessee and Vancouver, British Columbia, Canada
Song: “Milwaukee Blues”
Release Date: September 27, 2024

In Their Words: “‘Milwaukee Blues’ has been a staple of our live show for years. It’s got a fun, silly vibe, but it’s about the very real perils of hoboing in the 1920s. That smiling on the outside/crying on the inside dichotomy is one of the most fascinating things about bluegrass and old-time music. Though we focus more on our original songs, our early tours were always based around fiddler’s conventions – Mt. Airy, Galax, Clifftop, etc. Playing old fiddle tunes and songs is how we started to forge our own sound and how we met our dearest musical pals. We’ve released collaborative old-time albums before (Milkers and Hollers and Tune Hash), but this is our first time stripping it down to the duo. We usually do one or two of these tunes at each show and we wanted to get them down for posterity, and for the old-time fans! Tracks will continue to trickle out over the next year, culminating in a full 14-track album.” – Mark Kilianski

Mason Via, “Falling”

Artist: Mason Via
Hometown: Nashville, Tennessee
Song: “Falling”
Album: Mason Via
Release Date: September 20, 2024 (single)
Label: Mountain Fever Records

In Their Words: “I co-wrote this song with Charlie Chamberlain, who’s known for his work on several Songs From The Road Band albums. We initially crafted this track as a companion piece to ‘Melt in the Sun,’ another song on the upcoming record. Originally, we intended for it to be recorded with my psychedelic electric side project as a rock and roll party anthem. It wasn’t planned for this bluegrass album, but after bassist and dobro player Jeff Partin singled it out as his favorite from the extensive list of songs I shared with him and the producer, I decided to include it at the last minute. I’m glad we included it because it blends that distinctive Mountain Heart newgrass drive with lyrics that are perfect for getting people moving.” – Mason Via

Track Credits:
Written by Mason Via & Charlie Chamberlain.
Mason Via – Lead vocals, guitar
Aaron Ramsey – Mandolin
Jason Davis – Banjo
Jim Van Cleve – Fiddle
Jeff Partin – Bass, Dobro
Kyser George – Guitar
Brooks Forsyth – Baritone harmony
Nick Goad – Tenor harmony

Yamaha Sessions: Trey Hensley, “Can’t Outrun the Blues”

Our Yamaha Sessions continue, highlighting the top-notch Yamaha FG series of acoustic guitars and the killer musicians who utilize them. This time, we’re back with guitarist, singer-songwriter, GRAMMY nominee, and reigning IBMA Guitar Player of the Year Trey Hensley. For his second session in the series, he performs a growling original, “Can’t Outrun the Blues,” that highlights the grit and attack of his custom Yamaha FG9 R, resonant and bold in open E.

Hensley’s techniques are bluegrass through and through, with clarity and athleticism to his flatpicking that stand out even among his incredibly talented contemporaries. The ‘grassy skeletal structure behind his approach to the instrument is merely a springboard into other textures and styles. Here, in a modal and bluesy number, you can certainly hear the influence rock and roll, down home and contemporary blues, Southern rock, and country chicken pickin’ have on Hensley’s own writing and composition.

More here.

DelFest Sessions: Mountain Grass Unit, “Lonesome Dove”

For a special bonus edition of our DelFest Sessions from earlier this year, we return to Cumberland, Maryland and the banks of the Potomac River for an encore performance by bluegrass four-piece, Mountain Grass Unit. On September 20, the group will release a brand new EP, Runnin’ From Trouble, which features this original number, “Lonesome Dove,” as the lead track. In fact, at the time of the session’s taping, the band had just recorded the song a week prior.

“We had an amazing time at the riverside DelFest Session performing our new song, ‘Lonesome Dove,'” said mandolinist Drury Anderson via email. “Watching people float down the river while we recorded made the experience even more special. It was an honor to be part of such a unique series!”

More here.

Photo Credit: Mason Via by Michael Weintrob; Golden Shoals by Mike Dunn.

Basic Folk: Bruce Molsky & Darol Anger

Posted on by Shelby Williamson

The names Bruce Molsky and Darol Anger have come up more often than not when talking to fiddlers on Basic Folk. The pair have single-handedly mentored hundreds of our favorites in fiddle music at Berklee College of Music in Boston, Darol’s online music school, music camps, festivals, and more. The pair joined us on the occasion of their newest folk music collab, their new album Lockdown Breakdown. Folk music has often been associate with nerdiness, so we get right into their nerdy roots with Bruce’s love of fountain pens, his background in mechanical engineering, and all facts about American roots music, bluegrass, and fiddle music you can stand.

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Both talk about their origins: Bruce in the Bronx and Darol in Northern California, which eventually led him to become a co-founding member of the David Grisman Quintet. We discuss the social aspect of the old time and bluegrass world and how that has translated into the way they each approach socializing. Then, we get into the thousands of fiddle lessons they’ve given younger players and why they like to mentor younger generations.

And of course, we chat about the album, which was recorded live in a Nashville studio in just a few days. Darol and Bruce talk about what the energy was like in the room for all their live takes during the session. It was a pleasure to speak with these two very funny, very influential musicians! They are doing incredible and important work.

Photo Credit: Jeppe Blomgren

For the First Time, Willie Watson Uses Original Songs to Tell His Own Stories

Posted on by Justin Hiltner

Willie Watson has been a solo act for well over a decade, since leaving Old Crow Medicine Show way back in 2011. And while he’s put out records since then, in many ways his self-titled third release marks a new beginning. A lot of that comes from the fact that it’s Watson’s first solo work with original material, following two volumes of Folk Singer albums drawing from The Great American Folk Song book.

Watson worked with a co-writer on the original songs on Willie Watson, Morgan Nagler from Whispertown 2000, and the results sound like the sort of songs you’ll hear traded around folk festival campfires for years to come. The co-production team of former Punch Brothers fiddler Gabe Witcher and Milk Carton Kids guitarist Kenneth Pattengale capture the tracks in spare, elegantly understated arrangements with the spotlight firmly on Watson’s voice.

The album begins with a literal trip down to hell on “Slim and The Devil” (inspired by 2017’s white supremacist riots in Charlottesville, Virginia) and ends with “Reap ’em in the Valley,” an autobiographical talking gospel about Watson’s own long, strange trip. In between are songs about love, fear, the occasional murder. One of them is another cover, Canadian folkie Stan Rogers’ stately “Harris and the Mare,” and you’ve never heard a song that’s both so beautiful and so horrific.

BGS caught up with Watson on the eve of his album’s release.

So after so many years playing old folk songs, what got you into writing your own?

Willie Watson: I’ve always written songs, but never thought of myself as a “real” songwriter, like Gillian Welch or Dylan or Ketch [Secor]. That just didn’t seem like what I was engineered toward. I wanted to be that kind of songwriter, but told myself I didn’t measure up. So I got into traditional music. When I’d get together with friends at parties, I’d be more likely to sing songs that were traditional or someone else’s. Being in Old Crow was great, because I got to write with other people, mostly Ketch. Co-writing was easier on me.

Once I found myself on my own, I was very scared to write by myself. Being completely responsible for everything is scary and for whatever reason I could not bring myself to do that. Now I understand that no matter how simple, complicated, mature, childish or anything else I put into a song might be, it’s okay. I don’t have to tear apart and criticize, say terrible things about it before I’ve even written it down on the page. Left on my own, that’s typically what I’d do. It’s only now at age 44 that I can get past that. What a long road.

Do you remember the first song you ever wrote?

“Roll On” when I was 15 or 16. It was wintertime at my house in Watkins Glen, late one night when everybody else was asleep. I went out to smoke in the back yard and it was quiet. As I looked at the nighttime winter sky, I had this story come into my head about a cowboy in an old town. I wrote the words out quick, almost as I would have been playing it. Just looked up at the sky and thought of it and it washed over me fast. It was a pretty powerful first song, but I ignored it and have the most regret about that. For whatever reason, there was something in my life that made me not give it enough credit.

How did you connect with your co-writer, Morgan Nagler?

She’s a great songwriter who has made a few records, does a lot of co-writing with people you know. You’ve heard songs on the radio that she co-wrote. I was afraid to sit down on my own and write, and Dave Rawlings said I should call her. I was apprehensive about presenting ideas and words and parts of myself to a person I didn’t know, but it was immediately fruitful. The first day, four hours later we had a song I really liked, “One To Fall” – it’s on this record. That we came up with something I felt strongly about right a way got me fired up, so we kept going. Every time we got together we wrote a good song.

What was it like to appear in the Coen Brothers movie, The Ballad of Buster Scruggs?

It was amazing. They had me audition for another movie I did not get the part for, but they already had me in mind for the one after that. But it was terrifying. Little cameras scare me enough and the big gigantic ones are even scarier. Like a gigantic eye and you’re not supposed to look at them even when they’re right in your face. I’m no actor. I knew my lines, but did not know what to do. I called Joel [Coen] a month before to ask if there was anything he could tell me to prepare me. “The only thing I’ll tell you is your first instinct is probably right,” he said. Which didn’t help at all. On-set, I was still scared. I had to learn to get on the wrong side of the horse because of the camera shoot, which was awkward. So I was not knowing what to do until they took me to wardrobe. Once I had on the costume and the hat and looked in the mirror, I suddenly knew exactly what to do. When I saw how I looked, it all made sense: Just go out and be Clint Eastwood.

Fear, even terror, seems like a recurrent theme in your life as well as your work.

It’s a recurring thing for every human, if they’ll admit it. It’s so freeing to admit I don’t know what’s going on, I’m scared, I need help. So much of the time I’ve done the opposite and gotten nowhere. The only person making my life hard was me. Touring with different people, I see them get into stressful situations and I think, “It must be hard to be them today.” I was just like that for a long time, tearing through things everywhere I went. I was afraid and my way of dealing with that was to try and control things. A lifetime of that proved disastrous.

I got to the point of trying other things and eventually learned about humility. That started me changing and growing and recognizing that the only reason I made my life so hard was being afraid of everything. It’s so risky doing this and I am scared of it. I’m apprehensive about even saying that. The public wants you to be confident onstage and I am that. Sometimes not, though. It’s hard to put it out there and not be afraid. I’m gonna cry a lot in front of people onstage, and that’s brave and good for me. This record is me understanding that there’s power in those uncomfortable moments, and embracing them. There’s a lot of healing in being able to go ahead and do that.

Who are you dancing with in the video to “Real Love”?

That’s my wife Mindy and the song’s about her. Once we got together, it went quick with us. But there was not romantic interest when we met, we were just working together. She’d quit her job as a fast fashion designer wanting to do something fun, cool, more fulfilling. A mutual friend was trying to get us together, knowing she was interested in getting into denim work and that’s what I do. The friend knew I needed help. So she started as an apprentice, got good fast, and we ended up working together. For a year we sat and sewed together and became best friends, she’s the best I ever had.

I was careful about that relationship, didn’t want to ruin it. So that song’s about how it started and what it meant, how true our love feels. It outdid everything else I’ve experienced my whole life. It shows how every other relationship I’ve ever had, I wanted the wrong things and, I daresay, they all wanted the wrong things from me, too. It went both ways. I’m not even talking about romantic love. It ends up being about everyone in my life. The story of my love life is the story of my life, love in all its forms. It’s a bold statement that she is the only real love in my life so far.

How did you come to know Stan Rogers’ “Harris and the Mare”?

I’m a Stan Rogers fan and that song comes from Between The Breaks, a live album recorded at McCabe’s in Santa Monica. I was thinking, “Do I want to put this on a record with my songs?” I’d written simple rhymes, couplets that are almost kinda childish – and I’m gonna put them next to a well-crafted song by a master songwriter? But Kenneth and Gabe had heard me sing that one at shows for a while and really wanted it on tape, and I guess I did, too. And after the recording came out so awesome, how could it not be on the record? I found out it did tie into my life. We made this record and I was unsure if any of it made any sense. Once it was sequenced and I lived with it for a month or two, it came into focus. That’s a violent song about a man who doesn’t want to be angry and violent. And I’ve been that man in my life. I relate to this guy.

The other cover, “Mole in the Ground” – did you know that one from Anthology of American Folk Music?

Yes. I love Bascom Lamar Lunsford, he’s so weird and interesting to listen to. Those old recordings, I can’t listen to a lot of Carter Family or Blind Willie McTell. Three or four songs and I don’t want to hear more. But Bascom, I can listen to a good 30 minutes and that says a lot. Like “Harris,” that was a big puzzle piece where I was unsure how it would fit. What made it were the string arrangements. That tied it in with “Harris” and “Play It One More Time.” Gabe directed the string arrangement, but let them find their own way. It was a cool every-man-for-himself arrangement.

The closing song, “Reap ’em in the Valley,” really tells a lot about how you came to be who and where you are, describing an early encounter with a singer named Ruby Love.

I’ve always talked too much at my shows. But being alone onstage, I had to find ways to make it more interesting. Switching from guitar to banjo is a great tool in the arsenal, but people still got bored of that. Folk singers traditionally tell stories and lead sing-alongs. So I learned how to talk to people in a real personal way about mundane things, relating our lives to find common ground rather than tear each other apart. Just me up there, whether it’s in front of 15 or 50 or 1,500 people, it becomes a battle if it’s not working. Me against them. Sometimes it was a disaster, when I was not speaking from experience or the heart, places I knew. But once I started telling stories about me simply walking down a country road, they’d perk up and listen. So I became a storyteller. I figured I’d put one on this record, and that was one Kenneth and Gabe really wanted me to do.

I hope it translates. It’s my experience of looking back at evidence of what I call God in my life, how you can’t deny it. What I am now, Mr. Folksinger. That’s what people recognized me as, the place I ended up. It could have gone differently, but this is what I’m here for. Those impactful moments. I didn’t think much about Ruby Love over the years, until I started thinking more realistically and honestly the further I got from it. Meeting Ruby Love when my heart was so broken and how that felt, that’s what I never forgot about that night.

That’s the thing that stayed with the picture of it all, like a scene in a movie. That’s what vivid memories look like, movies. All that imagery rattling around my head. I relate a lot of that to the nature of God and God’s power in my head. It goes hand in hand with the moon and lake and sky, and how the moon affected Ruby Love. What Ruby Love did for that party and what the orchard did for his guitar.

Photo Credit: Hayden Shiebler

The Remarkable Rootsiness of the 2024 CMA Awards Nominations

Posted on by Justin Hiltner

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The headline takeaways from this year’s CMA Awards nominations may be the inclusion (and exclusion) of pop superstars, with understandable interest in what that says about today’s country format. But the 2024 field features plenty of roots and bluegrass influence, too. Regular BGS and Good Country readers might even be surprised at the confluence of the modern mainstream and its traditional tributaries.

We want to highlight that dynamic as well. Country has always been a big tent, but is it now becoming more receptive to its roots?

Let’s start with the superstars. These days, many can claim a rootsy kind of rebelliousness, and chief among those is Chris Stapleton. With his long history – in bluegrass, in Southern rock, in classic country songwriting, and with a train load of CMA trophies – Stapleton vies once again for what would be his first Entertainer of the Year award – after a record-setting eight nominations. Yet he still sings with the fiery Appalachian soul he debuted at the front of The SteelDrivers.

Others earning top billing this year include Zach Bryan and Lainey Wilson – and both have a reputation for gritty, creative realism. Some of the hottest new names country has to offer, Bryan has been selling out stadiums with his confessional alt-country and Wilson’s bluesy Louisiana swagger earned her last year’s Entertainer of the Year title. Those are not the only established artists holding true to the cause, though.

Kacey Musgraves continues to show salt-of-the-earth songcraft is not mutually exclusive to shimmering pop decadence. And while Ashley McBryde has perfected the art of making arenas feel like a massive, county-line roadhouse, Cody Johnson proves the appetite for hardcore Texas twang did not die with King George’s (semi) abdication. All have become perennial fixtures in the format’s upper echelons.

Likewise, this year’s nominees offer excitement for the future, awash with fresh talent. Shaboozey turned heads with the Number One ear worm, “A Bar Song (Tipsy),” but dig beyond the single and his catalog marks an elusive missing link between the hard-times inspirations of both hip-hop and country. Artists like Zach Top – who also came up through bluegrass – accept no substitute for twangy telecasters and shuffling, two-step beats. And while The War and Treaty continue their mission to bring soul and gospel back into the heart of country, The Red Clay Strays find a home for their blend of heady roots rock and commanding, fire-and-brimstone vocals.

Even the behind-the-scenes nominees highlight this rootsy resurgence, with the Musician of the Year category dominated by keepers of the instrumental flame. Fiddle phenom Jenee Fleenor goes head to head with steel-guitar legend Paul Franklin and the multi-talented guitarist/Americana artist Charlie Worsham – while the other two, guitarists Tom Bukovac and Rob McNelley, are certainly no slouches when it comes to six-string scholarship.

In fact, the commonalities between this year’s CMA Awards nominees and the artists covered by BGS and GC are so striking, we wonder what you think. Take a look at the full list of nominees below, and let us know.

THE 58TH ANNUAL CMA AWARDS – FINAL NOMINEES (by ballot category order):

ENTERTAINER OF THE YEAR

Luke Combs
Jelly Roll
Chris Stapleton
Morgan Wallen
Lainey Wilson

SINGLE OF THE YEAR
Award goes to Artist(s), Producer(s) and Mix Engineer(s)

“A Bar Song (Tipsy)” – Shaboozey
Producers: Sean Cook, Nevin Sastry
Mix Engineer: Raul Lopez

“Dirt Cheap” – Cody Johnson
Producer: Trent Willmon
Mix Engineer: Jack Clarke

“I Had Some Help” – Post Malone (Feat. Morgan Wallen)
Producers: Louis Bell, Charlie Handsome, Hoskins
Mix Engineer: Ryan Gore

“Watermelon Moonshine” – Lainey Wilson
Producer: Jay Joyce
Mix Engineers: Jason Hall, Jay Joyce

“White Horse” – Chris Stapleton
Producers: Dave Cobb, Chris Stapleton, Morgane Stapleton
Mix Engineer: Vance Powell

ALBUM OF THE YEAR
Award goes to Artist, Producer(s) and Mix Engineer(s)

Deeper Well – Kacey Musgraves
Producers: Ian Fitchuk, Kacey Musgraves, Daniel Tashian
Mix Engineers: Shawn Everett, Konrad Snyder

Fathers & Sons – Luke Combs
Producers: Luke Combs, Chip Matthews, Jonathan Singleton
Mix Engineer: Chip Matthews

Higher – Chris Stapleton
Producers: Dave Cobb, Chris Stapleton, Morgane Stapleton
Mix Engineer: Vance Powell

Leather – Cody Johnson
Producer: Trent Willmon
Mix Engineer: Jack Clarke

Whitsitt Chapel – Jelly Roll
Producers: Andrew Baylis, Brock Berryhill, Zach Crowell, Jesse Frasure, David Garcia, Kevin “Thrasher” Gruft, Austin Nivarel, David Ray Stevens
Mix Engineers: Jeff Braun, Jim Cooley

SONG OF THE YEAR
Award goes to Songwriter(s)

“Burn It Down”
Songwriters: Hillary Lindsey, Parker McCollum, Lori McKenna, Liz Rose

“Dirt Cheap”
Songwriter: Josh Phillips

“I Had Some Help”
Songwriters: Louis Bell, Ashley Gorley, Charlie Handsome, Hoskins, Austin Post, Ernest Keith Smith, Morgan Wallen, Chandler Paul Walters

“The Painter”
Songwriters: Benjy Davis, Kat Higgins, Ryan Larkins

“White Horse”
Songwriters: Chris Stapleton, Dan Wilson

FEMALE VOCALIST OF THE YEAR

Kelsea Ballerini
Ashley McBryde
Megan Moroney
Kacey Musgraves
Lainey Wilson

MALE VOCALIST OF THE YEAR

Luke Combs
Jelly Roll
Cody Johnson
Chris Stapleton
Morgan Wallen

VOCAL GROUP OF THE YEAR

Lady A
Little Big Town
Old Dominion
The Red Clay Strays
Zac Brown Band

VOCAL DUO OF THE YEAR

Brooks & Dunn
Brothers Osborne
Dan + Shay
Maddie & Tae
The War And Treaty

MUSICAL EVENT OF THE YEAR
Award goes to Artists and Producer(s)

“Cowboys Cry Too” – Kelsea Ballerini (with Noah Kahan)
Producers: Kelsea Ballerini, Alysa Vanderheym

“I Had Some Help” – Post Malone (Feat. Morgan Wallen)
Producers: Louis Bell, Charlie Handsome, Hoskins

“I Remember Everything” – Zach Bryan (ft. Kacey Musgraves)
Producer: Zach Bryan

“Man Made A Bar” – Morgan Wallen (feat. Eric Church)
Producer: Joey Moi

“you look like you love me” – Ella Langley (feat. Riley Green)
Producer: Will Bundy

MUSICIAN OF THE YEAR

Tom Bukovac – Guitar
Jenee Fleenor – Fiddle
Paul Franklin – Steel Guitar
Rob McNelley – Guitar
Charlie Worsham – Guitar

MUSIC VIDEO OF THE YEAR
Award goes to Artist(s) and Director(s)

“Dirt Cheap” – Cody Johnson
Director: Dustin Haney

“I Had Some Help” – Post Malone (Feat. Morgan Wallen)
Director: Chris Villa

“I’m Not Pretty” – Megan Moroney
Directors: Jeff Johnson, Megan Moroney

“The Painter” – Cody Johnson
Director: Dustin Haney

“Wildflowers and Wild Horses” – Lainey Wilson
Director: Patrick Tracy

NEW ARTIST OF THE YEAR

Megan Moroney
Shaboozey
Nate Smith
Mitchell Tenpenny
Zach Top
Bailey Zimmerman

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Ruination & Revival: Our Exclusive Interview with Gillian Welch & David Rawlings

Posted on by Justin Hiltner

In the catalog lore of Gillian Welch & David Rawlings, it’s April 14 that’s known as “Ruination Day”— the historically resonant date marking the “Black Sunday” of the Dust Bowl, the Titanic’s sinking, and the assassination of Abraham Lincoln. Themes of hard times and disaster have long floated throughout the duo’s music, but they found themselves facing catastrophe with new urgency on March 2, 2020, when a tornado laid waste to their Woodland Studios in their home city of Nashville.

That studio, which the duo took over in 2001, has the unusual distinction of being hit by three separate tornadoes over the years: it’s an unassuming icon of ruination and revival that’s withstood decades of change in personnel, technology, and weather. It became foundation and the namesake for August’s Woodland, a collection of new, original material from Welch and Rawlings after two deliciously deep archival releases and a set of covers titled All the Good Times (Are Past & Gone).

Having rescued their tapes, guitars, and other equipment from calamity, throughout 2020 Rawlings and Welch set about rebuilding Woodland around its original mid-century imprint. The creation of the record and the reconstruction of the studio became two spiritually intertwined processes, the rooms rechristened with songs that excavate the nature of change; Rawlings wrote violin, cello, and viola parts that friends laid to tape in the room he’d restored to its 1960s-era use for recording strings.

Even with the substantial building project, the extended pandemic circumstances offered ample time for writing new material together and the duo amassed dozens more tunes than they could ever release as one record. They ruminated on making a double album for a while. “We had so many songs kicking around because we didn’t want anyone to feel shortchanged if we were both singing,” Welch says.

A single-album concept instead snapped into place around “Empty Trainload of Sky,” which opens Woodland with Welch’s reflections on an unsettling optical illusion. The two tussle with loss and weariness across the record, gesturing at questions of how to keep moving through life’s seasons without hammering into any hard answers. Woodland feels like a statement of renewal and endurance from Welch and Rawlings, the sort of subtle roll forward that’s set them apart from other songwriters for so many years. The musicians spoke with BGS about their new material, old ideas, and what they still feel like they have left to do.

Prior to Woodland, the two of you had spent a lot of time working with your archival material for the Boots releases in 2020. What was the relationship you had between spending so much time working with this older material and then focusing your attention on a new record?

Gillian Welch: Not to put the Lost Songs stuff down, because I’m really happy that we, one, saved it from the tornado, and two, at that point, decided, “Why did we save this? Do we think it has value?” We decided yes, so we put it out. We haven’t given people a lot of opportunities to connect the dots between our albums. Years tend to go by, and I don’t know if they think we’re just on vacation or what, but we’re always writing. I’m happy that stuff’s in the world now.

I still stand behind our decision to not make an album out of that stuff. We’re really album-oriented artists,and if we can’t find a narrative that at least we understand, then it’s not an album. Sometimes people will put out a record and four or five years later, maybe they’re playing one song off it, maybe two. Traditionally, if we put it out, we’ll keep playing it, so we really have to like the song a lot.

So, did that archival material influence this record? Honestly? No. It just reinforced our yardstick, the filter we have in place, like, are we making a record? And the answer for all those lost songs was, “No, we’re not making a record.”

David Rawlings: We were working on some of the songs in late 2020, early 2021, but in general, they are not close in my mind. A lot of the stuff either took more final shape afterwards, or a few of the songs were kind of in shape before. But boy, working on those 50 songs was an awful lot and didn’t leave a lot of space for other things around it. It was really important, because that was one of the first things I was able to do here at the studio as I started to bring it back to life, post-tornado.

You’ve talked about having enough material to make a double album, how did you narrow everything down to the 10 songs that made the cut? What did you feel held these together?

GW: They seemed, in a way, to address the present moment. They were the most clearly about now and because of that, they seem to all fit together. Even though there’s plenty of contradiction within the album, there are these crazy undercurrents of loss, destruction, resurrection and perseverance; sadness, joy, emptiness, and fullness. It’s ripe with contrast. That’s just how we were feeling.

DR: There were different ideas, but I didn’t realize there was that large of a group, that there was the collection of 10 songs that felt like they amplified each other. I think all of the records that we’ve made that feel the best to me, one song sort of affects the way you think of the next and the whole album has a feeling that you’re not going to get if you just listen to your three favorites. I think that that feeling is heavier, or better. That, to me, is the benchmark of what you’re aiming for when you’re trying to make a record. One hopes that these other songs – one that you love for this reason, or that reason – that they eventually fall into some group like that. Or maybe we just start putting out singles.

Gillian, to what extent did everything you went through with the tornado recovery change your relationship with the natural world?

GW: I’m not sure that it did. I’ve always been really comfortable with the fact that there are things larger than us that are out of our control. It’s always sort of been a great relief to me, because I try so hard to navigate and control the things I can. Dave and I are such perfectionists. I don’t know how else to put it, except that it’s a great relief to just give it up for the things that are completely beyond your control. So I don’t worry about it really. The weather is going to be what it’s going to be. Woodland’s been hit by three tornadoes. Every tornado that’s come through Nashville has hit Woodland, but it’s still there. So I think I’m just not going to worry about it.

How do you feel like you both still challenge each other?

DR: Well, I think it’s the same as it ever was. If there’s something that doesn’t hit one of us right about something we’ve written or played, we will eventually come into agreement about that. I think we have a kind of way of taking what the other does, seeing what’s good about it and what isn’t. And that kind of ping ponging back and forth with thoughts, ideas, structures, and everything is what leads us to the stuff that we end up liking the best, and, more importantly, that other people respond to the most.

GW: I think we’re both still completely committed to trying to write better songs. It’s really interesting, because decades go by –we’ve played so many shows, and your voice changes. It just happens with the miles and it doesn’t have to be for the worst. There are things we can do now that we couldn’t do when we were kids, and certainly there are things that we can’t do now that we did in our early 20s. But I’m just so glad that there’s still a lot to explore. Musically, topically – I definitely don’t feel stale or tired of this. I feel like we both have a crazy sense of adventure.

What are some of those things that you feel like you can do now that you couldn’t do when you were younger artists?

GW: I feel like I’m able to listen while we play now, in a more elevated way. I can both listen to the smallest nuances of what I’m playing and singing and I can listen to what Dave’s playing and singing. I can make all these micro-adjustments to our four instruments, but at the same time, I can hear the sum of what we’re doing. I can also just listen to the whole sound and adjust for the whole thing. I’m not sure I used to be able to do that, or it didn’t occur to me to do it.

It sounds like a mixing board of the mind.

GW: Yeah, it’s like that! There are things that I admire so much in other musicians and sometimes I can see little echoes of that stuff that I like in our music, that we’re now able to do.

Whatever happens, at the end of the day, Dave and I are always pretty confident in, “Well, we did our best.” We really don’t slack off. If we missed the mark, whatever. You’ve just got to say, “We really tried.” It’s very exciting to feel like we’re getting closer to the music that inspired us to do this in the first place. We have a couple songs that I know came from my deep love of Jerry Garcia’s music and the Grateful Dead.

Sometimes, when we’re sitting playing in the living room, we’ll hit a passage and I’ll think, “Oh boy, Jerry really would have liked that.” That’s a good feeling, and that’s always been a great motivator – to try to do stuff that you think your idols would approve of. “Barroom Girls” got written because I thought Townes [Van Zandt] would like it. He was showing up at our gigs and stuff, and so I wanted to write a song that I thought Townes would like.

David, when Nashville Obsolete came out, you talked about this idea of keeping a place for old ways of doing things when the rest of the world has kind of pushed them aside. The last few years have had so much change, so fast – how has that idea developed for you?

DR: All of this equipment [in Woodland], almost none of it is new. It’s all the same stuff. It’s taking it a step further and maybe optimizing it for our own purposes. We’re still cutting on two-inch tape, mixing to quarter inch tape, and going through all analog equipment. The final step of going digital is the very last thing that happens. It’s not a museum, in the sense that I use a computer system – we’ve designed a bunch of DTMF code and different relays and stuff to run a lot of the equipment that we’re using. I will use modern technology in any way that I can that doesn’t touch the audio, in order to have things reset to where they are, or to have the lacquers cut with a particular precision. I will design whatever I need to in that department.

So, the goal is never for it to be a museum. The goal is always, how can you make the best sounding art? How can you do any of the stuff as well as you can? It feels the same with songwriting and music. There are modern songs that I admire so much, that you look and go, “How is that put together?” There’s stuff that goes back to the dawn of recorded music, from the late ’20s and ’30s that I think the same thing of. You just look around and cast your net at what moves you and what touches you, and then try to use those things as a jumping off place to contribute yourself.

At this point in your career, what do you still want to do that you haven’t gotten to do yet?

GW: I could say something quippy, like I still want to write a song as good as “Me and Bobby McGee” or “Like a Rolling Stone” or “Blue Eyes Crying In the Rain.” I still want to write a song that people will be singing for a long time. I still keep trying to do good work. Each song that we write is something that hasn’t existed before. So each time we start a song, I want to fulfill that inspiration.

So, you know, it’s like breadcrumbs— “Oh, I haven’t done that,” and you take another little step forward. Where will it ultimately lead? I have no idea. I’m sort of inching forward. Dave and I have never really had a grand plan. We just keep wanting to make music, so that’s what we do.

DR: I just always think that I want to get good at this. I really love the process of writing and performing in front of people, and have since the very first time I was able to get up on stage and play guitar. That was winning the lottery. When we started writing our own material and having people respond to it, there’s nothing really better. It’s a question of longevity, how long can we keep doing things and keep thinking of things that people feel are meaningful in their lives? How long can we stay relevant?

I don’t think that I’ll ever have a feeling of arrival. It’s all pushing forward. How can I play guitar better? How can we write better songs? How can I sing better? How can we record things better? It’s the learning that’s fun, it’s not even necessarily about getting better. It’s about wanting to explore and the pleasure in that process and the doing of it. I’m not real goal-oriented, there’s never been a statue I wanted to win. We’ve gotten some lifetime achievement awards over the past few years, and I’m like, “Are you kidding? We’re just starting to do this! I don’t know what you’re talking about!” It’s not memoir time, and it never will be.

Photo Credit: Alysse Gafkjen

BGS 5+5: Max McNown

Posted on by Justin Hiltner

Artist: Max McNown
Hometown: Bend, Oregon
Latest Album: Wandering
Personal Nicknames (or rejected band names): Almost went by Max Winter (Winter is my middle name)!

What rituals do you have, either in the studio or before a show?

My pre-show rituals remain somewhat consistent from show to show. I stay hydrated throughout the day leading up to soundcheck and I typically take it easy on my voice while I rehearse the songs (because I haven’t warmed up at that point). Post-soundcheck, I rest in the green room and use a steam inhaler to clear my sinuses before letting my vocal cords cool down from the heat for at least 30 minutes. After that, I kill time until around 30 minutes before I hit the stage, occupying myself with iPhone games to distract me from the pre-show nerves. At 20 minutes before the show I do a 10 minute vocal routine. At the 10 minute mark I call a circle with my band and say a prayer of thankfulness, asking that whatever happens, we impact the crowd for good. Minutes before stepping on the stage I conduct a box breathing exercise to slow my heart rate, and I’m off to the races!

If you had to write a mission statement for your career, what would it be?

Growing up, I leaned on music to get me through some of my most difficult moments. If I could summarize my “mission” it would be to return that healing… To repay what music has done for me to those who hear my own songs.

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

Considering nearly all my songs are directly influenced by my own life, I hide behind characters often. I purposefully keep it vague when discussing which lines in which songs are fully “true stories.” Some of the most impactful films of my life are “based on a true story” and I take that knowledge into every writing room. Occasionally I take liberties when storytelling, but a lot of my work is pretty accurate to my own life journey.

Does pineapple really belong on pizza?

Considering Hawaiian-style pizza is one of my favorite foods, I strongly believe if you enjoy the taste, you can put whatever you want on pizza!

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

If I were a color I’d have to think I’d be my favorite one, forest green… Simply because of my upbringing in the lush Oregon trees, my green eyes, and my love for nature!

Photo Credit: Benjamin Edwards

Bluegrass Memoirs: The Earl Scruggs Revue Beginnings

Posted on by Justin Hiltner

Nearly 50 years after the Earl Scruggs Revue concert I saw at the University of Maine, an internet search led me to Jaime Michaels of the opening act, Beckett. He still has vivid memories from that night in Orono. I sent him a copy of my report. He wrote back, saying:

I have no idea about the song titles but it was nice that my ’63 Gibson J50 got a mention … I still have it.

He has vivid memories of his time backstage with Scruggs.

… at the very end of Earl’s set as he walked back out for his 3rd or 4th encore he stopped and said to me “If I’d just play the darned thing right, I wouldn’t have to keep going back out …”

A little later as we were all loading out Earl came up to us and said, “Do you guys want to see my new bus?” He took us for the grand tour. I was still pretty young and had never seen a real tour bus before.

He was such a sweet guy with this humble self-effacing humor.

Earl was proud of that bus, I reckon; he’d named an instrumental after it.

When I saw them in 1975, the Earl Scruggs Revue was a polished Nashville rock act that had been together since 1969. Debuting at a folk festival that May, not long after Scruggs split from Lester Flatt, it featured Earl’s sons.

The two oldest, Gary (then 20) and Randy (then 16) were already Nashville recording studio veterans. They’d been in the Columbia studios multiple times (Gary 11 sessions, Randy 15 sessions) since May 1967, helping on the last three albums Lester and Earl made before their split (Changin’ Times, The Story of Bonnie & Clyde, Nashville Airplane).

Also new to Flatt & Scruggs, in the fall of 1967, was Columbia producer Bob Johnston, then 35. Concerned about declining record sales, Columbia had replaced Frank Jones and Don Law, highly regarded Nashville veterans who’d been producing F&S since the fifties, with Johnston, who was producing Bob Dylan.

Dylan had stunned the folk world when he went electric at the Newport Folk Festival in 1965. He first recorded in Nashville in 1966, completing Blonde On Blonde there using mainly Nashville studio musicians. In the next two years he returned, making John Wesley Harding and Nashville Skyline.

Flatt & Scruggs’ final albums reflected their move to Johnston, a leading producer at forefront of Columbia’s move from acoustic folk into electric folk rock.

Later, when asked about what led to the split with Earl, Flatt spoke of his difficulty in singing the band’s new songs. “Johnston,” He said, “…also cut Bob Dylan and we would record what he would come up with, regardless of whether I liked it or not. I can’t sing Bob Dylan stuff. I mean, Columbia has got Bob Dylan, why did they want me?”

Of the final three F&S albums, both Changin’ Times and Nashville Airplane had folk-rock repertoires. At the very first session for Changin’ Times, four folk-rock favorites were cut, three Dylan hits, one by Ian Tyson: “Don’t Think Twice,” “Four Strong Winds,” “Blowin’ In the Wind,” and “It Ain’t Me Babe.” Here, Earl’s boys Gary (singing) and Randy (lead guitar) were together for the first time in the studio with Flatt & Scruggs and Johnston.

Imagine the dismay of Lester (who, soon after splitting with Earl, would record “I Can’t Tell The Boys from the Girls“) at this session! It seemed as if the young longhairs with their strange new music were taking over.

Released in January 1968, the back cover of Changin’ Times was filled with the image of a rock poster. Unsigned notes beside it read:

With their smash appearance at the Avalon Ballroom (a West Coast temple of rock and light-shows) when they turned on the whole of San Francisco, there are no new worlds left for Flatt and Scruggs to conquer. Flatt and Scruggs are for everyone.

One of the album’s 11 tracks was a remake of Earl’s “Foggy Mountain Breakdown,” which had just become a hit through the soundtrack of Bonnie and Clyde. Five tracks were by Dylan; the album closed with Woody Guthrie’s “This Land is Your Land.”

Gary and Randy Scruggs personified the Lovin’ Spoonful’s “Nashville Cats,” but also in the studio for that album were other, older, Nashville cats – Charlie Daniels, Grady Martin, Bob Moore, Charlie McCoy and other A-team studio musicians. Randy and Gary would come to know these men well as they built life-long careers in the Nashville studios. These careers were forged during their years (1969-82) with the Earl Scruggs Revue.

Fortunately, the Revue’s earliest days were chronicled in a television documentary. David Hoffman’s ninety-minute NET TV special, Earl Scruggs: The Bluegrass Legend – Family and Friends, was recorded in 1969-70. It has been issued on DVD several times since then and can be seen on YouTube.

It’s fascinating to watch Hoffman’s documentation of Scruggs as he narrates his past, voices his present, and sets out his future directions. Along the way, Hoffman captures Earl’s music-making with a wide variety of performers and audiences. By the end of those 90 minutes, Scruggs’ cultural and political perspectives are manifest; likewise the breadth of his musical tastes.

Hoffman filmed in New York, North Carolina, Nashville, Washington, D.C., and California. The documentary opens with a five-minute jam session: Earl, Gary, and Randy are in upstate New York visiting Bob Dylan at the home of illustrator and sculptor Tom Allen, who had done many Flatt & Scruggs album covers. After Bob sings “East Virginia Blues,” Earl asks him if he’d like to hear their version of “Nashville Skyline Rag,” the instrumental title track from Dylan’s most recent album. I don’t know when this jam took place, but in mid-August of 1969, when Earl was in the studio with Lester to record Final Fling: One Last Time (Just For Kicks), an album they’d agreed to make after their split, the first track they recorded was “Nashville Skyline Rag.”

The tune became a fixture in the Revue concert repertoire, used, for example, as the show opener at Orono in 1975 and in 1977 when they played PBS’s Austin City Limits. Earl had recorded it again in 1970 for his first solo album, Nashville’s Rock.

After the jam with Dylan, the film’s next twenty minutes take the viewer with Earl and the boys to his North Carolina home with visits to the Morris Brothers (the first group he’d worked with), Doc Watson, and Scruggs family and friends in the Flint Hill community. It closes with a shot in which Earl speaks of how he’d taken the banjo to different types of music: “Now it’s easy to blend with today’s music. It works very well. I’m really happy. I had dreams of this.”

The next five minutes come from a jam session with the Byrds at a ranch outside Nashville. It begins with them doing “Nothing To It” (the title Earl used for “I Don’t Love Nobody,” when he recorded this tune with Doc Watson) followed by “You Ain’t Goin’ Nowhere,” a Dylan tune that was on the Byrds’ Sweetheart of the Rodeo, the 1968 album that is often thought of as a foundational statement of country rock.

It’s followed by four minutes with electronic music pioneer and composer Gil Trythall, who plays along on Moog synthesizer with Earl and Randy doing “Foggy Mountain Breakdown.”

Then comes an interview with Charlie Daniels, at the time an associate of Bob Johnston, soon to become one of country rock’s leading figures. The focus shifts as he, Earl, and the Revue attend the second Moratorium to End the War in Vietnam, held in Washington, D.C. on November 15, 1969 – generally considered to be the largest demonstration ever in Washington. After performing “Foggy Mountain Breakdown” there, Earl speaks of his opposition to the war.

Back in Nashville, Daniels is co-producing (with Neil Wilburn) All The Way Home, the first Scruggs Brothers album, for the New England folk and classical label Vanguard. The film follows them into a Nashville studio.

Earl is also working on an album, his first post F&S solo project, Nashville’s Rock. After listening to a demo of one track at the Scruggs home, we see an old friend of Earl’s, Dr. Nat Winston, give testimony to his character, and then Earl demonstrates how he creates his music, explaining that he’s self-taught. Next, we meet Earl’s wife Louise, who’s worked as his manager for fifteen years. She points out that Earl was immersed in the music from age five and that their son Randy has had the same experience.

A shift of focus to Randy follows, as we see him picking “Black Mountain Rag” (a guitar performance reflecting the Scruggs affinity for Doc Watson), and then go with him to class at Madison High and have a chat with his principal, who talks about Randy’s “skipping school.”

After hearing from Louise about how she met Earl at the Grand Ole Opry, we drive on a spring afternoon (in 1970) with the Scruggs family from home to the Ryman Auditorium in downtown Nashville. Inside, Earl, with Randy, joins Bill Monroe and the Blue Grass Boys in a backstage dressing room for a jam and then we witness the Revue’s debut on the Opry stage.

In the center is Earl on banjo, flanked by Randy on guitar and Gary on bass and vocals. Also in the band is Jody Maphis, a contemporary of the Scruggs brothers and son of country stars Joe and Rose Maphis, on guitar. He would subsequently move to drums and remain in the Revue for about a decade. On piano and tambourine is Leah Jane Berinati. Except for Earl, this was a group of kids, dressed like young flower power types. They perform two very conservative old traditional songs, “Nine Pound Hammer” and “Reuben,” to an enthusiastically appreciative audience.

The last twenty-five minutes of the documentary follow the Scruggs family as they travel, early in 1970, to California’s Bay Area for a visit and a jam in Joan Baez’s home. Joan, with her young newborn son Gabriel nearby, chats with Earl about their 1959 meeting at the first Newport Folk Festival. She sings two songs (both are Dylan compositions) and then, while photos are shown of her husband – Gabriel’s father David Harris, whose Vietnam protests had led to federal imprisonment for draft refusal – she sings “If I Was A Carpenter” with Gary. A heady mix of politics and music.

The film closes with Earl back in North Carolina talking again about his musical aspirations:

Keep up with the times and make as much progress with the banjo along with other instruments as long as it blends in as possible.

As the credits roll, we hear Earl playing “Folsom Prison Blues” using his tuners.

This documentary, aired at the height of the Vietnam war, included a forthright statement of opposition from a leading figure in Nashville, where there was considerable support for the war. The documentary was also a carefully crafted showcase of the Revue’s folk/country rock repertoire, musical style, and cultural connections.

The albums that Earl and his two oldest sons were working on while Hoffman was making the documentary released before its broadcast and both contain songs and tunes that appear in the film. A couple of examples: “Train Number Forty-Five” (F&S’s radio theme in the early days), which is heard in Earl and Randy’s backstage jam with Bill Monroe, is also heard on Earl’s album Nashville’s Rock. Similarly, Randy’s version of “Black Mountain Rag,” an acoustic guitar solo in the documentary, is heard on the Scruggs Brothers’ album, All The Way Home, in an extended version with not only acoustic and electric guitar breaks but also a banjo break in his father’s style.

In the next Bluegrass Memoir we’ll see how, by 1971 and 1972 when this documentary was broadcast, the Earl Scruggs Revue was appearing on a series of albums that realized Earl’s aspirations and helped launch his touring.

(Editor’s Note: Read our prior Bluegrass Memoir on the Earl Scruggs Revue here.)

Neil V. Rosenberg is an author, scholar, historian, banjo player, Bluegrass Music Hall of Fame inductee, and co-chair of the IBMA Foundation’s Arnold Shultz Fund.

Photo of Rosenberg by Terri Thomson Rosenberg. 

Edited by Justin Hiltner.

MIXTAPE: Rebecca Frazier Celebrates the Here and Now

Posted on by Justin Hiltner

I’m honored to create a playlist for BGS. I’ll share a Mixtape inspired by the theme of time and celebrating the here and now. I grew up in Virginia by the water and my musical life has been influenced by the seasons and the tides. Life (so far) has been a counterpoint of going with my gut and enjoying the moment while also considering intention and the bigger picture. But I’ve learned that I am more in touch with myself as an artist when I can remain in the present. The songs I’ve selected tend to resonate with my intuitive sense of joy and unconditional love – that deeply rooted part of ourselves that is free and unburdened.

It’s celebratory for me to share two tracks from my new album, Boarding Windows in Paradise, out now via Compass Records. Produced by Bill Wolf – who’s known for his work with Tony Rice and Grateful Dead – the album features the talents of Béla Fleck, Sam Bush, Stuart Duncan, Barry Bales, Ron Block, and a constellation of other bluegrass stars. The writing and recording process for the album brought me to a place of learning to create my own paradise through daily intention and action, and I’m grateful for this experience. – Rebecca Frazier

“High Country Road Trip” – Rebecca Frazier

I grew up on the water, so I love going with the flow and being taken for a ride. But I’ve got that philosophical side, where I’m also asking, “Where is this leading?” This song is meant to capture that moment of joy somewhere in the middle; that elevated feeling of loving the lightness of not knowing what’s around the bend and not necessarily trying to create a specific outcome.

“It’s a Great Day to Be Alive” – Darrell Scott

This song brings back great memories of living in Colorado and seeing Darrell Scott singing this one at music festivals out west. His song quickly became an anthem for savoring the present: “It’s a great day to be alive, the sun’s still shining when I close my eyes.”

“Sailin’ Shoes” – Sam Bush

This one is another anthem on the bluegrass festival scene. It’s about cutting loose and feeling liberated. When Sam Bush goes into his signature chop to kick it off, fans start to cheer like wild and dance in recognition. The freeing and soaring feeling of sailing – we definitely feel that when John Cowan joins in with his soaring vocals. As the lyric expresses, “Everyone will clap and cheer when you put on your sailing shoes…” Sam sings and plays it with abandon and you can’t help it but smile (or dance!) when you listen to this classic Little Feat cover.

“All I Want” – Joni Mitchell

“Applause applause, life is our cause.” Joni’s lyric speaks volumes about her expression of letting go. She sings about that feeling of dancing and unleashing herself in a dive bar, falling in love, and letting the best in herself emerge by forgetting about herself for a moment. “I want to have fun, I want to shine like the sun… I want to make you feel free.”

“Time in a Bottle” – Jim Croce

“I’d save every day like a treasure and then, again I would spend them with you.” This classic is a poignant reminder about the essence of time and what seems to have mattered most at the end. Croce sings about savoring time with a loved one and realizing that the metaphorical box of wishes and dreams can only be answered by memories of time spent with a loved one.

“Nick Of Time” – Bonnie Raitt

This song brings back powerful memories from the ’90s, when Bonnie Raitt received well-deserved acclaim as an artist after years of hard work as a blues musician. The message of time passing and realizing that we have almost missed a great life experience-but found that fruition in the nick of time-resonated with a wider audience. Her relaxed and soulful vocals portray the hopeful message in a calming way.

“Days Like This” – Van Morrison

In his relaxed and soulful way, Morrison sings about those rare worry-free days when the pieces effortlessly come together in a satisfying way: “When all the parts of the puzzle start to look like they fit, there’ll be days like this.”

“Cat’s in the Cradle” – Harry Chapin

This classic may be a tear-jerker, but it’s also a celebration of time. We’re reminded by Chapin to spend meaningful time with our loved ones now and not to wait for a speculative future time when our “schedule” is free. The lasting image of an adult son who’s now too busy for his dad – after spending years as a small child asking his dad to spend time together – is a powerful reminder about life’s priorities.

“Thunderclouds Of Love” – Tony Rice

Classic, powerful Tony Rice at his finest. This description of a thunderbolt moment can light up any heart, and Tony’s guitar solo takes us there with flashy, bluesy fireworks. Jimmy Headrick’s lyrics set the scene for Tony’s soulful and punchy baritone vocals: “I have been praying four nights on end for someone who could make me live again, and all at once from the darkness of my heart they came to light.”

“Alabama Pines” – Jason Isbell

This one snuck onto this list, because it always brings me into the present moment. Isbell’s writing and singing is just that good. Whatever you were thinking about or worrying about, it all tends to go out the window. Suddenly you’re driving in Alabama and seeing all of the imagery he describes, feeling all of the emotions he expresses.

“Help Me Make It Through the Night” – Kris Kristofferson

Kristofferson’s is my favorite version of this classic and I’ll admit that he also happens to be my celebrity crush. While he’s portraying relishing this moment, this night, I think many women are wondering if he really needs to ask for help with that cause? In all seriousness, he does pull us into the present with his poignant lyric: “Yesterday is dead and gone, and tomorrow’s out of sight.”

“Duck’s Eye” – Charles Butler

Banjoist Charles Butler is one of my favorite composers and this tune pulls me into an effortless feeling of gliding over an oceanic vastness. The call and response melodies bring the listener into a trance-like state, and the simple melody pulls the listener to that perfectly placed “eye” of the composition, echoing the David Lynch reference of Butler’s inspiration.

“Make Hay While the Moon Shines” – Rebecca Frazier

When I wrote this song with Bob Minner and Jon Weisberger, we wanted to express the feeling of unleashing ourselves and savoring the moment once the moon rises. We’ve all been told to “make hay while the sun shines,” but it’s just as important to put down our work and allow ourselves to be free and true to our inner selves.

Photo Credit: Scott Simontacchi