Wanted! The Outlaws
Turns 50

It’s strange to say about an album widely regarded as one of the 20th century’s most iconic, but maybe the most notable element of 1976’s Wanted! The Outlaws was its highly stylized cover. An old “wanted” poster associated with the wild, wild west of the American frontier (or at least movie depictions of the same), it depicted sepia-toned parchment with a trio of bullet holes. And it pictured the album’s four artists in mugshot form with Waylon Jennings as top headliner over Willie Nelson, Jessi Colter, and Tompall Glaser.

That appeared to be an unlikely quartet for a supergroup. But Wanted! The Outlaws turned out to be one for the ages, topping the country album charts and spinning off hit singles the artists performed for the rest of their careers. Wanted! even reached the crossover promised land in reaching No. 10 on the Billboard 200, a pop-chart peak for everyone involved except Nelson. When all the dust settled, it was the first country album to earn the then-newly introduced platinum certification for sales of over 1 million copies.

Despite the album’s thematic packaging, its 11 songs play less like a cohesive, organically conceived new work than the compilation it actually was. Each of the four headliners got a couple of songs, together as well as separately, and whatever unity it had came in the form of a musical vibe much closer to the progressive country coming out of Texas roadhouses than the traditional Nashville sound.

Considered as a collection of songs, Wanted! The Outlaws is a great record. And yet it emerged from a peculiar set of circumstances because it really, truly is a music-industry version of a breakfast sausage – appealing and tasty in spite of rather than because of how it was made. It’s fair to describe the feelings of many observers as mixed.

“More than anything else, it really was a triumph of Nashville marketing,” says Joe Nick Patoski speaking to Good Country. He’s the author of the 2008 biography, Willie Nelson: An Epic Life, and many other key writings about Texas music over the past half-century. “And it kind of crystalized everything Waylon, Willie and others had been doing. It almost seemed like a joke, but it worked and it sold. So who am I to kvetch?”

If Wanted! The Outlaws was a culmination that added up to more than the sum of its parts, it would not be such a key milestone without all the individual breakthroughs of its principals, starting with Waylon Jennings. A longtime journeyman who became a star, native Texan Jennings was only still alive in the 1970s because he’d given up his seat on Buddy Holly’s plane to Jiles Perry “The Big Bopper” Richardson Jr. on that fateful night in Iowa in February 1959. He’d been working the honky-tonks ever since, and by the mid-’70s his brand of too-rock-for-country-but-too-country-for-rock was landing commercially. On the strength of the statement-of-purpose hit “Are You Sure Hank Done It This Way,” Jennings’ 1975 album Dreaming My Dreams was his first to go gold.

And yet Jennings wasn’t even the biggest pop star in his own home. That was his wife, singer Jessi Colter, who had a massive No. 4 pop single in 1975 with “I’m Not Lisa.” That would remain her mainstream peak.

By 1975, however, Willie Nelson was breaking through at an even bigger level than Jennings and Colter put together. Long revered as one of the 20th century’s great songwriters, Nelson penned for-the-ages hits for the likes of Patsy Cline and Faron Young – “Crazy,” “Hello Walls,” “Night Life,” and many more. Yet success under his own name eluded Nelson, though not for lack of trying. He made album after album for RCA Records’ Nashville division, but the city’s prevailing sound just wasn’t a good fit for him. Nelson seemed doomed to be remembered as songwriter first, performer a distant second.

It took parting ways with Nashville and its assembly line – going home to his native Texas and leaving RCA to sign with Atlantic and then Columbia Records – for Nelson to finally establish himself as a viable recording artist. What finally put him over the top was 1975’s Red Headed Stranger, his 18th studio album but first for Columbia, and also the first where Nelson had complete artistic control. Spare, downcast, and terse as a Hemingway short story, the album’s sound and feel was miles removed from the Nashville sound. It was his first to crack the pop charts, selling millions, and “Blue Eyes Crying in the Rain” remains a beloved classic five decades later.

As he watched Nelson’s Red Headed Stranger success, RCA executive Jerry Bradley wanted in on it. Bradley had taken over as head of RCA Nashville from Chet Atkins several years earlier, and chief among his label’s assets was having Jennings under contract. While Nelson was long gone, RCA still had a voluminous catalog of recordings he’d left behind. RCA was already reissuing Nelson’s recordings as best-of compilations and doing some business, but taking them to the next commercial level was going to require an angle. It started with Waylon and Willie’s relationship as kindred-spirit friends and collaborators.

By the mid-1970s, Waylon and Willie had known each other for a decade. Both had artistic identities in contrast to staid Nashville, fitting in alongside other Texas-based acts like Michael Martin Murphey and Jerry Jeff Walker in an upstart wave dubbed “progressive country.” The music came out of that era’s back-to-basics ethos and was scruffier than Nashville’s assembly line. Author Jan Reid captured this particular moment with a landmark book, The Improbable Rise of Redneck Rock, first published in 1974.

Bradley’s idea was to put out an album where Jennings and Nelson joined forces, with songs both solo and in tandem. But if it was really going to take off, it needed fresh branding and a new descriptor beyond progressive country or redneck rock. That’s where old-fashioned marketing necessity entered into the equation.

Nashville writer Hazel Smith, who was working as Jennings’ publicist at that time, is widely credited with coining the phrase “outlaw country.” With that image in mind, Bradley came across a vintage “wanted” outlaw poster in a Time-Life illustrated encyclopedia about America’s 19th century western frontier. He took it to designer Herb Burnette with instructions to model a cover based on that, and then it was time to present the concept to the artists.

“He showed that to Waylon, who told him, ‘This is your idea, do whatever the hell you want,'” Patoski said. “And Jerry said, ‘Thank you’ and walked out the door. That poster on the cover really gave people something to grab onto, and ‘outlaw country’ is easier to say than ‘progressive country’ or ‘alternative country.'”

In Patoski’s telling, Nelson’s manager Neil Reshen was initially less than enthusiastic about the concept. But Bradley made it clear that RCA still had ownership and control of Nelson’s old catalog and an Outlaws album would come out with or without their blessings. It turned out that Nelson was more amenable to the idea, having just bought the Texas Opry House in Austin. He was happy to have an advance payment from his former label to fund its refurbishment.

Jennings regularly produced Colter’s music (including “I’m Not Lisa”), so she was an obvious addition to the lineup. The fourth piece of the puzzle, Tompall Glaser, also came from Jennings’ camp and was added at his insistence. Formerly of the Glaser Brothers, he too was peaking in 1975 with his cover of Shel Silverstein’s “Put Another Log on the Fire (The Male Chauvinist Anthem),” his highest-charting single on the country charts.

And thus The Outlaws were born, with success that was both immediate and long-lasting. The Academy of Country Music Awards named it album of the year for 1976, with “A Good Hearted Woman” winning the Country Music Association’s single of the year, and the album was added to the GRAMMY Hall of Fame in 2007. It also created another niche for country artists.

“My joke when people started telling me we were part of the ‘outlaw movement’ was to say, ‘No, we’re part of the in-law movement,’” said Ray Benson of the long-running Texas swing band Asleep at the Wheel in a conversation with GC. “We all thought it was kind of stupid, because everybody’s music was completely different. It was a style of marketing, not music, but it did create a shorthand to label and sell something. Honestly, the only ‘outlaw’ thing about it was the dope. What did we all have in common? We did drugs. Everybody liked something different, pot or coke or speed. But they were all illegal.”

Released in January 1976, Wanted! The Outlaws was accompanied by all the fanfare and major-label marketing of a new-music release. But the album mostly consisted of previously available material. As selected by RCA’s Bradley, seven of the original album’s 11 songs had been released in different versions as far back as 1970. But it did have a big ace in the hole, the dynamic of the Waylon and Willie show – “a juggernaut that was big and getting bigger,” said Patoski.

The duo’s live version of “A Good Hearted Woman” was one of the album’s four new tracks, and it would be its highest-charting pop single at No. 25 on Billboard’s hot hundred. It also launched Waylon and Willie’s ongoing partnership, which blew up even bigger the following year with “Luckenbach, Texas (Back to the Basics of Love).” They went on to make a series of hugely popular Waylon and Willie albums, plus their Highwayman supergroup with Kris Kristofferson and Johnny Cash.

Jennings opened Wanted! The Outlaws on a somber, solo note with “My Heroes Have Always Been Cowboys.” And yet that song is associated with Nelson, too. Four years later, he’d have a solo hit version of his own in the soundtrack to the 1980 Robert Redford/Jane Fonda movie The Electric Horseman.

Along with serving as foil to Jennings, Nelson’s key contribution to Wanted! was to give the album its main outlaw artifact in “Me and Paul,” a 1971 song chronicling some of his misadventures over the years with his drummer and partner in crime Paul English. That song’s good-natured sense of never-do-well scruff is in the DNA of some of Nelson’s singer-songwriter descendants like Robert Earl Keen and the late Todd Snider.

Colter’s most notable contribution to Wanted! was as Jennings’ duet partner on a cover of the 1969 Elvis Presley hit “Suspicious Minds,” foreshadowing their 1981 duet album Leather and Lace. Glaser’s contributions fall at the very end, with his take on Jimmie Rodgers’ “T For Texas” and “Put Another Log on the Fire” as the final two tracks. They’re classic songs rendered well, but they do feel kind of tacked on.

Wanted! would be enough of a success that the niche it created was soon viewed as problematic. Just two years later, in 1978, Jennings asked in song, “Don’t You Think This Outlaw Bit’s Done Got Out of Hand?” By then, outlaw country was bumping up against disco, and the 1980 movie Urban Cowboy was the result. Mainstream country descended into a not-great state in the early ’80s until the next wave of insurgents came along mid-decade – Steve Earle, Dwight Yoakam, Lyle Lovett, k.d. lang, and other artists who didn’t quite fit in with Nashville’s ways.

Through all of that, Waylon and Willie both kept on keeping on, separately as well as together. Jennings would remain a beloved elder statesman of country music (as well as Colter’s husband) until his 2002 death at age 64. He is still well-remembered. Glaser passed on in 2013 at age 79, but Colter is still around, making music, and released her most recent studio LP in 2023. And Nelson is, at the time of this writing, still kicking at age 92 – The Last Leaf on the Tree, as he put it on the title of his 2024 album.


Although he lives in North Carolina nowadays, San Antonio native David Menconi’s Texas bona fides include co-writing 2011 “Texan of the Year” Ray Benson’s memoir, Comin’ Right At Ya: How a Jewish Yankee Hippie Went Country or, The Often Outrageous History of Asleep at the Wheel (University of Texas Press, 2015); and his University of Texas journalism Master’s thesis, Music, Media and the Metropolis: The Case of Austin’s Armadillo World Headquarters (1985). His most recent book is Oh, Didn’t They Ramble: Rounder Records and the Transformation of American Roots Music (University of North Carolina Press, 2023).

Lead Image: Wanted! The Outlaws via Sony Music Entertainment

Want more Good Country? Sign up to receive our monthly email newsletter – and much more music! – direct to your inbox.

50 Years of the Paisley Family Business

Danny Paisley is a quintessential bluegrass tradesman. He began playing music around the age of 10 and soon after was sneaking into bars and clubs with his dad Bob Paisley, Ted Lundy, and their band, the Southern Grass. Danny was already gigging and touring at the age of 13, and now, five decades later, he’s enjoyed 21 years at the helm of the Southern Grass – with the next generation of Lundys, T.J. and Bobby, and the next generation of Paisleys, his son Ryan, in tow.

Danny learned the bluegrass ropes from his father, crafting and carrying on a traditional sound that draws directly from Bob’s musical foundation but also sounds distinct and personal. When Bob passed away in 2004, Danny had already taken over some of the leadership roles in the band while the elder Paisley had been battling cancer. Danny was determined to continue the group’s legacy, and over the last two decades he’s honored that legacy while consciously expanding it. Along the way, he’s earned four IBMA Awards for Male Vocalist of the Year, while he and the Southern Grass were awarded Song of the Year in 2009 for “Don’t Throw Mama’s Flowers Away.”

His 2025 album, released in May on Pinecastle Records, finds Paisley continuing that expansion, looking for new challenges and focusing in on a fresh sonic sparkle. Bluegrass State of Mind would sound like a straight-ahead traditional bluegrass album to a layperson, but to devoted fans of the Southern Grass, it’s a much more Americana-steeped and forward-looking endeavor. The usual five-piece lineup is augmented by Dobro, snare drum (gasp!), and a healthy dose of “what if we tried… this?” all across the project.

The result is charming, engaging, and downright excellent – it’s one of the finest bluegrass albums of the year, to be sure – showcasing how Paisley’s longevity is built upon a keystone of innovation and looking to the future, rather than being entrenched in the past. For someone who sounds entirely dyed in the wool and is held up by chair-snapping traditionalists as well as jamgrassy rebels, any level of “coloring outside the lines” of the genre would be remarkable. But Paisley isn’t stopping at new challenges and fresh sparkles; he wants to take his Bluegrass State of Mind to as many brand new audiences as he can find.

Fifty years into his career, Paisley is not resting on the assumption that he can keep performing and plying his trade by doing the same ol’ same ol’. No, Danny Paisley & the Southern Grass are still committed to bringing the bluegrass they love and hold dear to anyone and everyone who may enjoy it, by showing folks this kind of music can be for everyone. All the while, he’ll be turning over plenty of new leaves and passing along the family business in real time, too.

We caught up with Paisley at the Industrial Strength Bluegrass Festival in Wilmington, Ohio, between sets, when he and his son Ryan sat down with BGS to chat about his most recent album, what he wants to accomplish next, and the absolute unforgivable sacrilege of including drums on Bluegrass State of Mind.

Right on the album cover for your latest project it says, “Celebrating 50 years of bluegrass music.” To me, you’re a bluegrass tradesman. It’s very clearly your trade, it’s what you’ve done your whole life, and it runs in the family. It began with your father, Bob, and is continuing in the next generation with your son, Ryan. Can you talk a little bit about the meaning that you’re holding right now at 50 years, as you put together this record and were thinking about that anniversary, and that longevity?

Danny Paisley: I didn’t want to do a record rehashing old favorites. I kept hearing different songs and I kept saying, “I want to try this,” just for me to try this new approach. A “new challenge.” We recorded it and some of ’em were not standard Danny Paisley-type songs, but I felt they were awful good songs and I wanted to try it.

So Ryan and I worked it out, and he come up with a different approach for some of the tenor lines I would’ve sang previously. Now Ryan is singing them, so that added a different flavor. We just tried to sparkle the music, just to tweak it.

We added a Dobro for the first time, only ’cause I kept hearing it through so many of the songs. I’m more of a fan of the newer approach to Dobro than the older school. Mike Auldridge was the one that turned me [onto it], the way he was getting tones out of a Dobro.

You’re 50 years into doing this and have such an established sound as your own frontman, your own bandleader. People see you as so solidly traditional, but for you, five decades in, it’s clearly still important for you to turn over new leaves, to find that sparkle you’re describing.

Because I was feeling… maybe I was [feeling] stale, and after my health issues, I felt I really need to do this – for maybe a couple years, now. I regret that I didn’t try it [sooner]. So I tried it and I loved it. Had a great time, had a great producer [Greg Cole] and great help with Ryan and his influence and I think it’s a great CD. Different approach.

You’re still looking for new challenges and you’re looking forward. Obviously, with this record, with the way that you operate as a musician and a creative, you aren’t just somebody that’s like a lot of bluegrass people, with one foot in the past, one foot in the future.

Right.

Looking ahead – ’cause it seems like you’re looking ahead right now – what are the goals you haven’t done yet? Or the bucket list items you haven’t checked off yet?

I want to take our band – and this is a real goal – to reach other audiences. I think there’s a real audience and a real needing, almost, at some of the more jammy festivals. And we’ve done ’em and I’ve realized it really works well, presenting a straight-out, hardcore bluegrass band. We pick out songs that sort of go to that crowd, but we just play ’em in our style and we try to keep it upbeat, just to draw people in for a new audience.

I know the music has gotta move on. I’m a firm believer of it. We revere the past, but we look to the future – and I’m in that category. I look to the future, but I love the past. I don’t want to dishonor it, ’cause it’s the music I love and feel. It’s what’s inside of me. That’s the music I love.

So that’s my goal. I want to bring it out [to new audiences], and I really feel in today’s world, you’ll have to adapt things, but I really wanna make it traditional bluegrass. There’s a real audience for sincere, true bluegrass.

It makes me think of how we have Molly Tuttle, Billy Strings, and Sierra Ferrell–

Exactly.

All who are, at their core, traditionalists. So they’re shining a light on the folks who sound like you. I definitely think there’s space for a band like you in that constellation.

And Billy loves hardcore bluegrass! But he made it an event. People will pay money for an event. He puts it right down in their faces with some straight-out bluegrass, and it’s great.

Our mutual friend Jon Weisberger always talks about how one of the most valuable things you can do as a bluegrass band is to be the most traditional bluegrass band in a non-traditional space. The music can stand out for what it really is and doesn’t fade into the grayness of it all being the same.

There’s so many traditionalists who don’t want any variation, which I respect. We all do. I wanna revere that. But we also gotta realize these people, young folks today, are not coming into the music. With all the outside influences and modern day [stuff], Facebook and all the different Instagrams. [Laughs] They’re not coming into the music the same way. We need to respect that and bring it to them and bring them in.

We can’t expect some young person that’s just getting into music, that’s 18 or 19, to be really drawn in by singing another cabin song. We sing cabin songs, but we can’t [only do that]. And we’ve all had heartbroke and there’s a world of songs about heartbroke. Your lover has passed or left you, boohoo! We have to present it in a fresh way. And meet people where they’re at, for sure. That’s the best line, that’s truly it. And I’m a firm believer in that.

I fully believe in the intrinsic charm of bluegrass. I think everybody’s a fan, they just don’t know it yet. So if you can reach them with music that doesn’t show them or tell them that they’re not allowed to like bluegrass, it happens. Bluegrass can feel exclusive. Or it can feel like, “Oh, that’s music for other people, not for me.”

“Not me,” yeah! Or, “I’m afraid.” “I’m not sure that’s good enough, or that I would be accepted.” Or, “I hear it, but I don’t really want people to know I like it.” Because that stereotype has to go! It has to move on. It’s music for everyone. I don’t care what kind of music you’re in, music is for everyone. And you have to accept that or live in your little corner of the world and think everybody else is wrong.

I’ll probably get in trouble for that. [Laughs]

No, no! But speaking of traditionalism and traditionalists… so, bluegrass drums, huh? [Laughs]

Uh huh! [Laughs]

You’ve got bluegrass drums on the album. And what a lot of people don’t know – maybe our audience on BGS will know – but a lot of people don’t know that bluegrass drums are a traditional bluegrass instrument. I hear the “sparkle” and the difference in these songs, but I also still hear you. It sounds like your personality.

What my approach and my thought is, is I want it to still be me. I’ve had some people criticize it and say they didn’t appreciate that drum. Why? ‘Cause it was listed? [Laughs] It’s there to add some rhythm. And it was only there for a little sparkle, a little snap. And a little rhythm. If you didn’t really know it was there and we didn’t tell you, you probably wouldn’t know it. There’s nothing wrong with that, no. Drums are in a lot of bluegrass.

Exactly. We could list the folks who’ve had drums: Bill Monroe, Jimmy Martin, the Osborne Brothers, J.D. Crowe – the list goes on and on and on.

For you, as a traditionalist, straight-down-the-middle bluegrasser, this album is a few clicks towards Americana. But if you played this album for an Americana audience, it would just sound like traditional bluegrass.

It would be traditional bluegrass, yeah. I’m gonna draw those people in. That’s my goal.

The album sounds so warm and live. You know how bluegrass records nowadays, especially the ones made especially for satellite radio, all sound really compressed. They sound canned and sometimes stale. This album feels really warm and live and fresh.

I think ’cause they all want radio airplay. They have a certain– I don’t know the technical way [to describe it], but sometimes you start compressing the music too tightly. You miss guys like Jimmy Martin who threw his voice real up there and really stood out on a certain line. He popped –I call it popping – he’d pop his voice and stuff. It might have been there, but then they compress it with the recording or the engineering. I try to not let that get too overtaken in the music, even in straight bluegrass, ’cause that adds energy and life.

I do wanna talk about some of the songs on the album. I love these three in the middle: “Diagnosis Broken Heart,” “Two Old Church Pews,” and “Cream in My Coffee.” Let’s start with “Diagnosis Broken Heart,” ’cause that one, I think the sparkle and the challenge you’ve been talking about is there.

We had it recorded and I didn’t really like it. I felt it didn’t really work. So we redid it after we had it all done and mastered, we redid it. That’s a different approach for me. I said, “Let that sink in.” And after it sunk into me, I go, “No, I don’t wanna do it that way. I’m gonna go back and just sing it my way.” And that’s what I did. Then that one, we added the snare. I wanted a little pop – and the groove on that one is great. We brought the tempo up and that one worked.

The most challenging song was “Cream in My Coffee.” David Stewart wrote it along with some other gentlemen and David kept saying, “I want you to do this. I hear this.” And I kept saying, “I do too, but I don’t know if I can.” And so there’s your challenge!

So I did it and it wasn’t right. We’re in the studio and David Stewart’s there and he’s telling me how to do it and I’m not doing it the way I hear it. I’m listening to the way he’s singing it and I go, “I can’t really do it that way.” I’m listening back and forth. Finally, David comes in the studio and he says, “Think of a marching band.” We did a take and next thing I know he’s standing in the [control] room while I’m doing the vocal and he’s in there marching. [Laughs]

More people come and say, “I never thought you would record the song like that,” but I love it. I said that was a challenge, but it was a good challenge.

I also wanted to talk about “Two Old Church Pews.” Can you tell me about where that song came from? That line about how a church is wherever you are, that really resonated.

That was the major part of that song that grabbed me! That song was pitched to me by Brink Brinkman and Daryl Mosley. They sent it and I immediately said, “This is beautiful.” I said, “This wraps up basically how I feel.” You can talk to your deity wherever you are. Some people need to go to church. Some people just go out, have a quiet moment, and sit in the yard or a quiet spot in the house. That’s how I believe. And the two old church pews were [the singer’s] church. He took ’em home and he sat there and he would talk to the Lord in that way.

That’s how I feel and it’s a beautiful song. It rings thanks to Ryan and Greg. It come out excellent. And that’s probably the most traditional feeling, one of the new songs on that CD.

I love the text painting of it. It really feels like you’re seeing the imagery.

That’s what I tried with my singing. Tried to present that way. And the wording of it was excellent. That’s a once in a lifetime song.


Photo Credit: Shot by Rob Wasilewski, courtesy of the artist.

Kyshona on 50 Years of ‘Rags To Rufus’

(Editor’s Note: 50 years ago this month, Rufus released what would become a seminal album in American roots music, soul, and funk, Rags To Rufus, which featured Chaka Khan. To mark the 50th anniversary of this iconic recording, singer-songwriter Kyshona ponders the personal meanings of the project and how it relates to her own brand new album, Legacy.)

My mother is battling dementia, so car rides with her are the perfect time to play music from her younger years, when she was carefree, childless, and she and my Dad hosted an abundance of house parties for their friends and family. I have a playlist of songs from the late ‘60s and ‘70s I’ll put on when we’re shuttling her between doctors’ appointments.

On one of these car rides, I turned on Rags To Rufus. My mom was in the passenger seat, playing “brain games” on her phone to, in her words, “Exercise her mind and hold on to what she’s got.” I noticed she was singing, under her breath, the melodies and choruses of the first three tracks on the album. She turned to me and said, “I’ve never heard this before, who is this? I like it!” This got me thinking beyond personal family legacy and more about musical legacy.

This year marks the 50th anniversary of Rags To Rufus, the album that transformed the trajectory of funk band Rufus and propelled Chaka Khan into the spotlight. Chaka Khan’s music is a soundtrack that has woven itself into the fabric of not only my work as an artist, but also into my personal life.

There is an expectation to conform, to try to categorize and compartmentalize music; I can’t imagine enduring the pressure from the industry, and even society as a whole, as it was nearly a half a century ago, artists and bands trying to squeeze themselves into arbitrary molds. To my ears, Rags To Rufus is the sound of a group of friends hanging out and having a good time – there is a sense of celebration, camaraderie, a sonic journey of Black joy. It feels like an album made for the thrill of being creative, for the sake of unbridled artistic freedom. I have always wanted my music to feel like this, telling stories, playing around with sounds and ideas. When I’m creating, that’s my goal. I write in the style that serves the story that I’m telling, without regard to genre constraints or others’ expectations.

The record begins with empowered swagger and affirmation – “You Got The Love,” which I interpret as, “You belong here.” The sentiment is carried through in “Walkin’ In The Sun,” a song that brings a comforting sense of nostalgia. I can hear my “aunties” in the hook: “Even a blind man can tell when he’s walking in the sun.”

The title track is a funked-out jam session, and then the band brings out old-time fervor in “Swing Down Chariot.”

Think about it – Rufus takes an old gospel song, adds Chaka Khan’s powerhouse vocals, blends it with blues, jazz, funk, soul, and takes it to an entirely new dimension! Forget genre, industry rules, or album cycles. Back in the day, it was just music that made you feel good, it was about that vibe.

As a music therapist, I recognize the profound impact music has on those grappling with conditions like Alzheimer’s and dementia – it encourages lucidity and presence of self. As a daughter, I see how music bonds me to my mother.

In the past, when I’ve done music therapy in nursing home settings, I’ve used songs from the early 20th century – like “Let Me Call You Sweetheart,” “Heart And Soul,” and “Sentimental Journey.” But now, the memory care songs I reach for are songs I grew up listening to in our house, at family reunions, on road trips. How fantastic is it that Chaka Khan’s work throughout her 50-year career can provide a generation-spanning conduit for a mother and a daughter to connect? We can experience that freedom in her sound as we listen together, regardless of the chaos happening around us.

I can’t begin to put into words how much I admire Chaka Khan; with my new album, Legacy, I tell the stories of my ancestors and my family. Chaka Khan’s legacy is intertwined with generations of music-makers.

Over the last 50 years, Khan has been a major influence on pop artists like Whitney Houston, R&B artists like Erykah Badu and Mary J. Blige, and on myself – and so many of my peers in the roots and folk scenes. I learned of her musical magic as a child, listening to my parents’ favorite radio stations, so being able to sing backing vocals for her at Newport Folk Festival a few years ago was absolutely surreal. I can’t imagine the journey she’s been on, but I hope she knows that her existence alone encourages artists like me to keep on being true to ourselves and our art.

Rags To Rufus is a part of my journey. For me, it’s the sound of “blackness.” I hope that 50 years from now, someone will listen to the music of myself and my peers and hear that same resonance of joy, love, and celebration of culture.

We all dream to leave a lasting musical legacy as deep and profound as Chaka Khan and Rufus.


Photo Credit: Anna Haas

The Band Revives a Landmark Tour on ‘Stage Fright’ Anniversary Edition

You may have heard The Band’s third full-length album, Stage Fright, but you’ve never heard it like this.

Released in August 1970, Stage Fright features two of the group’s biggest hits, its title track and “The Shape I’m In.” A year later, The Band embarked on their first European tour in five years after a regrettable outing backing Bob Dylan, during which folk fans booed the singer’s electric aspirations. Not sure what to expect, their 1971 European tour proved to be one of The Band’s most successful, as crowds all over the continent displayed frenzied adoration at their shows.

So to celebrate not only a classic album, but also the memory of a landmark tour, The Band has unveiled a 50th anniversary edition of Stage Fright. Its original multi-track masters are presented by Bob Clearmountain in a new stereo mix; guided by The Band’s Robbie Robertson, it’s also reissued in the originally planned song order. The set includes alternate versions of “Strawberry Wine” and “Sleeping,” plus seven unearthed cuts, compiled as Calgary Hotel Recordings, 1970, which capture a late night hotel jam session between Robertson, Rick Danko, and Richard Manuel.

The expanded album also offers a wealth of previously unheard recordings from that tour. Presented on a second disc (a simple continuation on the digital release), Live at the Royal Albert Hall, June 1971, bears witness to what was truly a peak performance for a group loved and revered by so many. The 20-song set, originally recorded to a four-track tape machine, has been remixed and remastered for a clearer experience of the electrifying performance, providing fans an opportunity to be transported right back to London, 1971. Hear The Band perform classics from their first three records as well as covers of Bob Dylan and Stevie Wonder with the deluxe 50th anniversary edition of Stage Fright.


Photo credit: Norman Seeff

WATCH: Richie Furay, “Go and Say Goodbye”

Artist: Richie Furay
Hometown: Yellow Spring, Ohio
Song: “Go and Say Goodbye”
Album + DVD: 50th Anniversary Return to the Troubadour
Release Date: April 23, 2021
Label: DSDK Productions, distributed by MRI Entertainment

In Their Words: “‘Go and Say Goodbye’ is one of my all-time favorite Stephen Stills songs. I’ve recorded it in every band configuration I’ve been in — Buffalo Springfield, Poco, and the Richie Furay Band. Stephen shared the song with me before there ever was a Buffalo Springfield as we sat in his apartment in Los Angeles on Fountain Avenue, learning all the songs he had written for what would become the first Buffalo Springfield album. Over the years I’ve given it a few arrangement changes, musically, while keeping the original feel and dynamic of the song.” — Richie Furay


Pictured: Richie Furay and his daughter Jesse Furay Lynch. Photo Credit: Howard Zryb

WATCH: David Crosby’s Tiny Desk Concert

Just in time for the 50th anniversary of Woodstock, David Crosby stopped by NPR’s Tiny Desk with the Lighthouse Band. This is not just a lineup that hinges on David Crosby — the Lighthouse Band has three other accomplished writers in Michael League (Snarky Puppy), Michelle Willis, and Becca Stevens. Reminiscent and smooth, reverent and fresh, these artists combine their talents to make something greater than the sum of its parts. Watch David Crosby and the Lighthouse Band on NPR.


Photo credit: Anna Webber