BGS 5+5: Creekbed Carter Hogan

Artist: Creekbed Carter Hogan
Hometown: I live in Saint Paul, Minnesota, but before that I spent most of my life living in Austin, Texas. I wasn’t born and raised in either, but they are the places that have shaped me the most and I think that counts for something.
Latest Album: PEASANTS REVOLT! (out July 24 2026)
Personal Nicknames (or rejected band names): Creekbed, Creeky, Peepaw Creekbed

Which artist has influenced you the most – and how?

Like a Catholic cliché, my life has been changed forever by two women named Mary.

The first artist is Mary Chapin Carpenter. Watching your mom sing along to “He Thinks He’ll Keep Her” with her eyes closed while she presses folded laundry to her chest, both wistful and hopeless… that does something to a person. In a family so Catholic, so conservative, so isolated – not just because of rurality, but also because of my difficult, isolationist father – Mary Chapin Carpenter was one of the few non-Christian rock-related musicians that scored my childhood, and her ferocious form of empathic songwriting has never left me.

The second Mary is Mary Gauthier. I remember the intersection I was stopped at in Austin, late at night, my now-girlfriend putting her on the aux. The first lines of “Slip of the Tongue” hit me like a gut punch: “Honey sit down, I got something to say/ Last night I drowned. I got carried away.” I remember gripping my girlfriend’s hand, crying and laughing and brimming with new, terrifying love as I listened for the first time to one of the few publicly queer Americana artists to really break through. Mary Gauthier made my life as a trans country artist possible. Nobody can see through to the soul of something like she can. It was an honor to release my cover of “Slip of the Tongue” this year, and it’ll be an honor for the rest of my life to know that my songs are in a lineage that includes her.

What other art forms – literature, film, dance, painting, etc. – inform your music?

Man, I just really love art a lot. I’ll watch anything, read anything, listen to anything. I don’t think you need any special schooling or whatever to look at something bold and wrestle with how it makes you feel – you just need a lot of curiosity.

I’m putting out a new record in July called PEASANTS REVOLT! and in my liner notes I credit two books as inspirations: Fernando A. Flores’s Texan magical realist novel Brother Brontë and Julius S. Scott’s The Common Wind, a beautifully rendered examination of how word-of-mouth led to the Haitian Revolution, the most successful slave revolt in all of human history. Those two books gave as much to my new album as Hazel Dickens, Bobbie Gentry, Tracy Chapman, and ANOHNI did.

So did a whole library! The East Side Freedom Library in Saint Paul, which makes formerly private collections of union organizers, activists, thinkers, and artists available to the public. The Twin Cities United Performers, a musicians’ power org I’m a member of, helps me explore the art of organizing with fellow musicians for better conditions. Picket lines are an art form, and I remain inspired every day by the people who hold them. And my songs would probably sound completely different if I weren’t spending so much of my time watching movies like John Sayles’s Matewan and Cheryl Dunye’s Watermelon Woman and Abbas Kiarostami’s Close-Up.

Before I could leave my small rural community, art was a way of exploring the world. Now that I can live on my own terms, art is a way of understanding the world. As an artist, why wouldn’t I try as many forms of understanding as possible?

What’s your favorite memory from being on stage?

This is a long answer, but it’s a story worth telling:

This past winter, as ICE invaded the Twin Cities and abducted and killed our neighbors in our streets, I received a grant from the Cedar Cultural Center in Minneapolis to write new labor and union songs. It was a jarring juxtaposition: how could I justify research and writing songs in my room when I needed to be out on the streets with a whistle in my hand, standing my ground with my neighbors against the federal government? But the truth is, I’d already cashed half the money and it had been a lean winter, so I had to make something to show for it. I went to the East Side Freedom Library, did a boatload of research, and then I wrote songs about regular Minnesotans who’d fought the government for dignity for all. From the 1910s miners of the Mesabi Iron Range to the Indigenous founders of the American Indian Movement in the ’70s to the Willmar 8 who held a two-year picket line every single day in every single kind of weather to an Appalachian-styled ballad that tied in the history of labor resistance to what we were all doing now to protect one another, as our own mayor and governor left us in the ice and the snow to fend for ourselves.

On February 20, I took the stage at the Cedar Cultural Center in Minneapolis with a four-piece bluegrass band and presented my grant work to 250 Minnesotans. I was terrified that what I’d written hadn’t done enough justice to this incredible place that had taken me in, given me lifesaving healthcare, and taught me new things about what it means to show up for your community – and even more worried that my performance wouldn’t be good enough to raise rent money for my neighbors who were trapped in their apartments, hiding from ICE. But when I started playing these songs, the reception filled me with awe. All 250 of these people sang with me, clapped with me, cried with me, felt pain and joy and despair and hope together, out loud, with me. After the set, we got a standing ovation – and then at the merch table, the line went out the door as neighbor after neighbor came up to me to tell me about the picket lines they were holding or had held, the Minnesotans they’d recognized in my lyrics, the pain they felt and the hope that sat right beside that pain that they could now feel because of what we’d just sung together.

I’ve played a lot of incredible shows to incredible audiences, many of them much bigger and “much bigger deals.” But that show on February 20 this year was the single most important performance of my life. It meant everything to me. And it taught me, again, why I’m still here, writing songs, doing something every single day to take my place in a lineage of resistance and make a new, better world for all of us.

If you didn’t work in music, what would you do instead?

Way before I wanted to be a musician, I wanted to be a nun. The nuns I’ve known work really hard for the liberation of all people, even from within the confines of a restrictive, colonialist, organized religion. The Sisters of the Holy Names were the ones who first taught me about protesting at the School of the Americas, for example, and the Catholic Workers movement introduced liberation theology to me,and taught me about fighting for a dignified life for every living thing. I’m not a Catholic anymore – Catholicism remains closed to me as a trans person – but then again, secular convents existed in medieval Europe for people who didn’t want to convert to Catholicism, but still wanted to live in community. So maybe being a secular, liberationalist nun is still an option?

What would a perfect day as an artist and a creator look like to you?

I would wake up and every single person in the United States would have universal basic income, healthcare that serves all of our needs, and the knowledge that our taxes are funding public services instead of wars and genocides and detention centers. I’d get up to eat vegetables from our garden and groceries I could afford, in a house I share with my friends that isn’t owned by a landlord or a bank, in a neighborhood where everyone has the housing they need. I’d pick up my guitar and head out the door to a park or a third space where other people would be playing music, sharing skills, and enjoying rest for free without fear of the cops or some arbitrary law that regulates who gets to rest where. And we’d all get to that space on free public transportation that runs well and doesn’t contribute to climate change.

We’d sing and play in the heart of a food forest and then we’d take a break to swim in water that’s clean in a park we all care for. I’d go to the library and read a book about moss or something, just because it sounds interesting, while people around me use public resources to sew quilts or study or listen to CDs, our phones nowhere in sight. In the evening, I’d go to a show with my girlfriend at a venue that receives funding from the government so they don’t have to rely on alcohol sales to make their business work, and I’d happily pay money that I know goes entirely to the bands playing that night. I’d dance and dance and dance, surrounded by all kinds of people who all have the basic things they need to thrive in the bodies they have, whose bodies are no longer regulated or targeted for state violence or kept out because of a disregard for accessibility. The bands would be shit hot, because they’d know they were making a living wage and that no one was gonna come into the venue to gun us all down.

And when I’d leave the venue with my girlfriend to get on our bikes and go home to sleep, the night air would feel clean. There’d be no wildfire smoke in the air. The stars would be out, and I’d be able to see them all. I’d pass neighbor after neighbor, grinning, happy to go home to a safe place, knowing that Palestine was free and Cuba was free and Puerto Rico was free and that “Land Back” had supplanted capitalism as our guiding principle and that every worker was treated fairly. And while nothing would be perfect, because there’s always work to be done, things would feel possible. Hope would feel tenable. Every living creature would feel valued. That would be one hell of a day, I think.


Photo Credit: Emily April Allen

BGS 5+5: Dustbowl Revival

Artist: Dustbowl Revival
Hometown: Venice, California
Latest Album: Change Your Mind (released June 26, 2026)
Personal Nicknames (or rejected band names): The Atomic Mushroom Cloud of Love, The Colt 45s

(Editor’s Note: Answers supplied by Z. Lupetin.)

What’s your favorite memory from being on stage?

There was a full-circle moment when we got to open for the Preservation Hall Jazz Band out of New Orleans at the beautiful Ford Amphitheatre in LA. Seeing Del McCoury’s bluegrass band combine with that famous brass squad on a tour in 2008 or so was one of the foundational moments for us – most people thought we were crazy combining a string band and brass band – and being in that gorgeous canyon theater felt magical and surreal.

What other art forms – literature, film, dance, painting, etc. – inform your music?

Personally, I came out of university as a playwright and screenwriter hoping to break into Broadway and Hollywood telling stories. Being in a band turned out to be a much more direct way to write and have your voice heard. It’s a lonely world putting on plays in New York and LA and hoping ten folks might come. Music is the obsession that never went away and there are dialogues right in many of the songs – “Change Your Mind,” the title track of this new record, is case in point. It’s really about a relationship breaking own in real time and picking up the pieces as they fall. You can have a whole drama in one song and bring it to audiences instantly which I love.

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

“Mr. Steady” came right after I got home from the hospital when my daughter was born. I knew I had to process the horrifying events that led to my wife nearly losing her life (the birth triggered a rare syndrome), but this song was written down then hidden away for a long time. It was too raw – singing about a single parent telling their daughter what a cool mom she had and admitting that being the “stable and steady one” might be impossible. But maybe being honest about those dark days helped move me through it. And I adore how the strings recorded by our old fiddle player Connor Vance lift the song so beautifully.

What would a perfect day as an artist and creator look like to you?

Unlike many musicians, I tend to love the feeling of recording a song right after you learn it, like when you’re still in love with it and you’re white-knuckling it a bit through the changes, totally un-jaded, just going for it. Some of the songs on our new record like “Listen, Come On Try” are full of excitement and live-take fear – just hold on and nail it! I would love a day to write, record, and put out a song, no breaks! OK, maybe a good lunch in between.

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

I do get a bit crazy about finding the best food on the road. Korean specialities are my all time favorite. Maybe an epic KBBQ meet up with Paul McCartney would be fun? Hell, let’s get Paul and Bob Dylan together and let them chat over banchan – that would be heaven.


Photo Credit: Molly Hudelson

BGS 5+5: Sweet Undertow

Artist: Sweet Undertow
Hometown: Alphabet City, New York, New York
Latest Album: Days Without Names (releasing July 17, 2026)
Personal Nicknames (or rejected band names): Fast Eddy; Slow and Steady Eddy

What other art forms – literature, film, dance, painting, etc. – inform your music?

I read a lot – like a lot a lot. Language is such a strange thing: these agreed-upon movements of our mouths and these little scribbled symbols allow us to build civilizations. New York and Paris are built out of words way more than they are brick and steel.

And make no mistake, speech and the written word are the same thing as singing. When you order coffee or curse the guy who cut you off – you are singing. There’s melody and rhythm and all that in speech. So listening to some author build castles inside your head. It’s the same thing as song. Listen to Marx here: “You have nothing to lose but your chains.” Put it on a loop in your head, you’ll start to groove to the rhythm. The 4-on-the-floor beat marches like a dialectic. Or take Christ, “My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?” That’s music – you can imagine Kurt or Aretha or anyone else singing that line.

In fiction especially, narrative and voice and imagery and sound – it’s all there. You get to dig around inside of these lunatic genius minds all from the comfort of your own home for like 10 bucks a throw. And they don’t even really charge more for longer books – you can’t say no to that kind of bargain these days.

Read these and tell me I’m wrong:

One Hundred Years of Solitude
The Wind Up Bird Chronicle
2666
Infinite Jest
Blood Meridien
Never Let Me Go

What was the first moment that you knew you wanted to be a musician?

It;s tricky. The word “artist” suffers a great deal of abuse from global culture writ large and the music industry in particular – from Subway’s sandwich artists to most of the “artists” you hear on the radio. But for artists, you’re born an artist and it’s a matter of how quickly you can find your medium. It’s long been said that the most dangerous thing in the world is an artist without a medium, and for me it’s hard to say when I found mine. I sang in a punk band in high school, then stole a guitar at 19 and taught myself to play from Muddy Waters records. And I’d play gigs from time to time, but it just never occurred to me to be a musician.

This is the important thing – it never occurred to me to want to be anything. I didn’t think about things in those terms. The best way I can describe my thinking at the time is this: Every year was so totally different than the year before that even the thought of making a long-term plan sounded laughable. Hubris in the face of the capricious gods of time. But I never even really had the thought. Being anything just didn’t occur to me.

So I didn’t have money or stuff or a home, but I traveled the world. Lived in half a dozen countries. There was love, adventure, terror, sickness, laughter, lonesomeness. Damn near got eaten by alligators and, later, a leopard. I worked as a firefighter, a garbageman, a teacher, a student, an organizer, a newspaper reporter, a salesman, and a security guard. Mainly a rambler, Odysseus-ing around, but not trying to get anywhere exactly.

But I guess if there was a moment when I realized I was a musician it was in Singapore. I was playing tunes at this bar in Geylang and this pilot named Spinks came up to me after, grabbed my shoulders, and said, “Brother, you’re a musician.” And like a punch to the chest I realized he was right.

Genre is dead (long live genre!), but how would you describe the genres and styles your music inhabits?

Genre is 99% marketing speak – so it isn’t dead in as much as it has essentially nothing to do with music at all.

That said, Sweet Undertow makes country disco, outerspace Americana, hardcore folk, and babymakin’ rock ‘n’ roll.

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

People’s sense of surprise is their own business, so far be it from me to try and influence that, but here’s some fun facts:

When I get the blues (surprise surprise, I get the blues!) I put on the Rebirth Brass Band, Dr. John, the Meters, Curtis Mayfield, and Parliament. And while it doesn’t cure the blues, per se, it is definitely harder to be sad when you’re dancing.

And for the lightning round:

1) Marvin Gaye is maybe the greatest musical genius of the 20th century.
2) Django Reinhardt is the greatest guitarist player who ever lived.
3) Ella Fitzgerald is some kind of goddess who briefly took mortal form.
4) Standards by Tortoise – chef’s kiss.
5) My favorite band for a goodly while was Los Crudos.

If you didn’t work in music, what would you do instead?

If I couldn’t play music I’d jump off a goddamn bridge – it’s the only thing I like.


Photo Credit: Jessica Lee

BGS 5+5: Eighteen Mile

Artist: Eighteen Mile
Hometown: Central, South Carolina
Latest Album: Peace Be Still (released June 12, 2026)
Personal Nicknames (or rejected band names): We were almost “Campbell House.” Bert and Gretchen Campbell opened their home to us in our early days of traveling as a band. That is where our direction was set early, and a lot of our first songs were written as a band!

What other art forms – literature, film, dance, painting, etc. – inform your music?

We all come from families that placed a high value on art of various forms. If you come to any of our houses you will see paintings on the walls created by family members and we will be using handmade pottery mugs given to us by family and friends. Being surrounded by quality handmade art has always set the standard high for our music and all our art!

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

You have to believe that the best music rises to the top. Work hard on creating the best songs that you can, and then work hard to create quality recordings. If you can keep believing the best music will rise to the top, then it lets you relax a little bit once you have given it your best!

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

All of us love being in nature. Jack, our banjo player, is an avid outdoorsman and is known to bring a fly rod on tour. Hallie is a photographer and has jaw-dropping photos from backroads (and off-roads) throughout the Southeast. Savannah comes from a mountain-climbing family in Idaho, so I [Carson] have found myself being dragged along on all sorts of adventures now that we are married. All of this impacts our work because we, as primarily gospel bluegrass musicians, think a lot about how to reflect God’s creativity in our music. What better inspiration is there than to be in the original creation itself!

What is the most random interview question you’ve ever been asked?

On The Dailey & Vincent Show (sponsored by Springer Mountain Farms Chicken), we were asked what our favorite chicken recipe was. We weren’t quite ready for that one, and I don’t remember what I said. So tune in on August 8th, 2026, to find out!

If you didn’t work in music, what would you do instead?

We are all still working our non-music jobs in addition to our work with Eighteen Mile! In a lot of ways, we are doing the things that we find fulfilling. Hallie is a coach, Carson works for a software startup, Savannah is a stay-at-home mom, and Jack owns a painting startup – in addition to teaching banjo!


Photo Credit: Sandlin Gaither

BGS 5+5: Benny Bleu

Artist: Benny Bleu
Hometown: Hemlock, New York
Latest Album: When I Am a Fossil (released June 5, 2026)
Personal Nicknames (or rejected band names): My real name is Benjamin Haravitch. I like it just fine, and maybe someday I’ll release music as that guy. For now, Benny Bleu helps out.

Which artist has influenced you the most – and how?

Early on in my old-time journey, I became obsessed with the fiddling of Rayna Gellert. I said to myself, “I want to play the banjo like she plays the fiddle.” And that goal still stands. I love the way she records and releases music, especially her latest duo albums with Kieran Kane and also alongside Joachim Cooder. The music is accessible and rooted in traditional old-time music and also totally fresh with a clear point of view. Most importantly, it feels good and flows with perpetual motion. All things I try to do with the music I make.

What was the first moment that you knew you wanted to be a musician?

When I was about four years old, a new neighbor moved in next door. Gary. He had a band called Wilderness Family (banjo, fife, snare drum, upright bass, accordion) and I remember them playing for us in my driveway. When I was eight or so, the band threw a party in my backyard and invited all their freaky musician friends who camped out and jammed and juggled all weekend. I eventually grew up, but I don’t think I ever left that party. For a while I tried to work a 9-to-5 as a geologist. But the songs never stopped ringing in my head! I knew there was no avoiding the fact that I make music and that’s just what I do.

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

All of the music I make is an echo of my relationship with the earth. Even the way I tour reflects this, primarily getting around on Amtrak. My new record When I Am a Fossil is entirely focused on our place in nature. In the title track, I reflect on my past life as an environmental geologist. Scientists in the deep future might find vast evidence of our human experiment, but will they ever find the steps we didn’t take?

I live in upstate New York, in a region known as the Finger Lakes. Two of these lakes – Canadice and Hemlock – have been lasting muses for me. Ancient worlds that have witnessed glaciation, generations of native cultures, colonial progress come and gone, and now provide water for the city of Rochester. This is a story I tell in the song “Abbey Lovely.” And “All I Want to Be” is a meditation on awe and the simple pleasure of being “here” in our place in nature.

Does pineapple really belong on pizza?

All toppings belong. Especially the under-represented ones, like pineapple. If a pizza is provided with a supportive crust, a zesty sauce, and savory cheese, then all toppings will manifest greatness. I don’t do the social medias, but in my newsletters I like to let my fans know where my favorite pies are as I travel around. I usually go for a simple slice of cheese.

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

The element of music that speaks to me most is rhythm. So I tend to love drummers and rhythmically adventurous musicians. I love Latin music. I love Fela Kuti and James Brown. Music that holds the groove above all else. Bernard Purdie, the legendary session drummer, is one of my favorite musicians and I hear a lot of similarity in how he keeps a song moving with how an old-time fiddler creates that perpetual forward motion. My desert-island-all-time favorite track would have to be “Sugar” by Stevie Wonder.


Photo Credit: Kyle Sackett

BGS 5+5: TANASI

Artist: TANASI
Hometown: Asheville, North Carolina
Latest Album: TANASI (released May 8, 2026)

What’s the most difficult creative transformation you’ve ever undertaken?

Becoming one third of Tanasi was and continues to be a real challenge for me technically and creatively. Incorporating a lot of different styles into our music from different corners of the globe naturally stretches my comfort zone. Whether playing in odd meters, alternate tunings, providing percussion and even flatfoot dancing while playing my guitar, there is always lot to learn. In addition, being a trio, every moment requires a lot of dynamics from all of us. So we have to work very closely to make each moment count. Luckily we have a lot of years of shared effort that makes it all possible. I am grateful for the opportunity to learn new things. – Anya Hinkle

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

I heard that when you are doing the work you are meant to do, it doesn’t feel like work. That is always a great measuring stick for everything we are “working” on. Of course, there is a lot of hard work that goes into being a musician and a lot of it isn’t exactly fun. Bfut at the end of the day, it feels natural and right and I’m grateful for the opportunity to do what I am doing with my life. – AH


What’s your favorite memory from being on stage?

We played together [recently] after having a couple month hiatus from the trio, because of other projects we’ve been working on. It brought me such a ridiculously large amount of joy to be up there creating a moment for the good people of Waleska, Georgia, at the Falany Performing Arts Center. Billy had just gotten back from teaching in England at Sore Fingers. The creative juices were overflowing and Anya was feeding off of it, rockin’ her heart out, and our harmonies were digging into each other. I was so aware of the power of that moment, the happiness that I feel performing music that inspires with these people whom I love, and getting to share that with the sweet folks sitting in their lawn chairs, enjoying a peaceful evening under the trees.

Getting to play at the Ryman with Vassar Clements is also surely a highlight. – Mary Lucey

What would a perfect day as an artist and creator look like to you?

One version of a perfect day would be having an entire day free to do nothing but write, study, and practice. Our German Shepherd sitting at my feet, howling at the occasional D note (he loves them, not sure why), fresh fruit in the fridge, nice tea and coffee – and while we’re at it, might as well be overlooking a beautiful ocean with the occasional break to go surfing.

Other versions of the perfect day involve collaborating with others, hearing original compositions come to life, co-writing something new, and still with the Shepherd, fruit, and ocean or forest. – Billy Cardine

If you didn’t work in music, what would you do instead?

I would either be a veterinarian or working on marine biology projects. – BC


Photo Credit: Gen Kogure

BGS 5+5: Aidan VanSuetendael

Artist: Aidan VanSuetendael
Hometown: Stuart, Florida
Latest Album: Old Imagined Future (releasing June 25, 2026)

What was the first moment that you knew you wanted to be a musician?

Seeing my parents play music when I was little. I loved watching my dad play guitar – we’d sit together, he’d let me strum the strings, and it felt like magic. I got the same feeling when my mom would sing, too. I loved her voice. That was really formative for me. My parents weren’t working musicians, so I wouldn’t see professional musicianship modeled for a while longer, but those experiences made it clear to me that I wanted to hold that magic feeling as closely as I could.

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

Maybe not the toughest, but the most intentional. I wrote one song on the album, “Bow River,” one day at a time on a road trip through the Canadian Rockies. Every day I wrote down a couple of lines about what we were up to on this insanely beautiful trip and the song came out like a memoir of a long journey. It made that song feel very special, like it’s a little snowglobe where I can see myself and my Canadian friends frozen in time.

What’s the most difficult creative transformation you’ve ever undertaken?

Making this record, I think. Prior to this record, which I recorded about a year ago now, I really only performed and created music that was a lot more traditional in nature. I had joined a band called Bill and the Belles during the pandemic and in that band I played mostly three-finger banjo, sometimes clawhammer. Making my own record was a big departure from that. I intentionally didn’t play any banjo on this record. I was in such a post-breakup headspace – I was totally grieving the end of that band and the connectedness to that creative world. I leaned into fingerpicked guitar for these songs instead.

I wrote all of these songs on a lovely little ’20s parlor guitar given to me by a dear friend. When I brought that guitar to the studio to make the record, though, it wouldn’t behave. Not sure if it was temperature or age or humidity that pushed it over the edge, but it was a disaster. It was buzzing and bridge pins kept flying out. Maybe the guitar was telling me it was happy to be a songwriting guitar, but it didn’t want to be recorded with. Maybe it marked the symbolic ending of that chapter of grieving. The guitar I ended up using on the record was a beautiful Waterloo guitar, made by Collings, which was lent to me by my sweetheart Anthony da Costa. I think that was symbolic, too.

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

I’m not sure if this would surprise anyone that much, but I love the Mountain Goats and have for a long time. I think I’ve listened to The Sunset Tree enough times that it’s just baked into my subconscious now. John Darnielle is such a fantastic songwriter – the way he writes characters and imagery is so compelling, he just pulls you into these different worlds. It’s amazing.

What would a perfect day as an artist and creator look like to you?

Honestly, my ideal day has a big grandma vibe. I’d wake up at 6:30 in the morning on a farm somewhere and let out my chickens and ducks. I’d throw a stick for Russo, our dog, then have an enormous breakfast. Afterwards, I’d write some songs and head into the studio for the afternoon. In the evening I’d make some pottery then play at a cozy little wine bar or late-night coffee joint. I’d get home and go to sleep by 9:30pm, and that’s the dream.


Photo Credit: Oceanna Colgan

BGS 5+5: Cold Chocolate

Artist: Cold Chocolate
Hometown: Boston, Massachusetts
Latest Album: Not Gonna Stop (released February 13, 2026)

(Editor’s Note: Answers supplied by Cold Chocolate’s Ethan Robbins.)

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

In May of 2020, smack dab at the beginning of the pandemic, my wife and I were expecting our second daughter. At the time, among other things, we were worried about whether or not I would be allowed to accompany my wife to the hospital to give birth – that’s the way the protocols were set. Fortunately I was able to, but unfortunately the birth didn’t go as smoothly as one always hopes it will and Casey, our daughter, had to remain in the hospital for 17 days after she was born. Because of the protocols at the time, my wife and I were not allowed to stay with her. So all we could do each day was call the hospital to find out when she was coming home. If you recall, back in the early pandemic days, each day felt like a year. Those 17 days really felt like 17 years.

It was an incredibly emotional time. I’d find myself crying out of nowhere, in the middle of the day, without any warning. It was during that emotionally charged period that I wrote “How You’re Feeling Today,” and although it was hard to find the right words to write and sing, it was incredibly cathartic in that moment. Through the writing of that song, I was able to start to see the light at the end of the tunnel. Now, when we play that song live, I get to revisit some of those feelings, but in a much more positive light – because Casey is 5 years old now. Incredibly healthy, incredibly beautiful, incredibly hilarious, and one of the best dressers I know.

Genre is dead (long live genre!), but how would you describe the genres and styles your music inhabits?

We call our music Americana. It’s a broad term that’s meant to encapsulate many different genres, as does our sound. Our band goes back a long way, over a decade, and has evolved considerably over that time. When we began the band over 10 years ago, we had a banjo player and an upright bass player and the music we were playing was very much bluegrass-forward – or at least, that’s what we considered it to be. We always had drums, so some people may never have considered us a bluegrass band, but we did.

The issue for us back then was that the entire time our banjo player was touring with us he was also studying to get his PhD in Physics from Harvard University. So when he graduated and became a doctor, he had to make the very difficult decision whether to pursue his career in science or his career in banjo. He made the wrong decision that day – and we obviously continued on as a band and our music continued to evolve as anything and everything does over 10+ years of time.

We began to get enthralled by the music of bands like the Wood Brothers and the Black Keys, and I started playing electric guitar live more than ever before. Ariel [Bernstein] and I delved pretty far into what this electric sound allowed us to do. We found we were now able to play things and express things that we’d been unable to achieve before. So we went forth as an electric “power duo” (trademark pending) and wrote and performed a ton in that duo setting. Then, bam! – pandemic hits, and we don’t see each other for more than two years.

In May of 2022, I showed up at Ariel’s house and he says, “Oh, I play banjo now!” Through his banjo and my mandolin’s addition to our band, we were able to revisit some of the bluegrassy material that we’d started with so many years ago. We breathed fresh life into tunes that were as old as the band itself and now they feel like some of our newest songs. It’s added an arc to our albums and live shows that we adore. So in a live setting, we’ll play everything from electric funk and rock with a drum kit and guitar amp to acoustic bluegrass and folk with banjo and mandolin around a condenser mic. It’s hard to put one word on what we do. It’s all… us.

What was the first moment that you knew you wanted to be a musician?

I started classical violin lessons when I was 4 years old. I studied with the same teacher until I went to college at 18. At the beginning, although there was certainly a level of enjoyment that I was aware of, I never connected with classical music in a way that made me want to take complete ownership of my music education. When I was 14, I started teaching myself guitar and my love of playing music started to grow. I was finally able to play things that I wanted to play. At the time, that was a lot of Dave Matthews Band – but it was the first time I realized that music could be so soul-fulfilling.

When I got to college at Oberlin, at that point listening to a lot of Grateful Dead, I met some people who were really into bluegrass. I didn’t know what that was at the time, but the first time I heard Old & In the Way I was sold. I went to the very first DelFest in 2008, right before spending the summer working for HeadCount – the voter registration organization – on a six-week tour with the Dave Matthews Band. It was that juxtaposition, seeing my favorite childhood band rock out every night then going to sleep listening to Peter Rowan and Vassar Clements in my headphones, that I started to visualize a life path for me as a musician.

It certainly took us some time as a band to figure out how to make that dream a feasible reality and, in some ways, we are still figuring that out. But truthfully, I just met the right friends at the right time, saw and listened to the right music when it mattered most, and that sparked the dream.

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

When I was at IBMA in 2024 in a meeting setting, as an icebreaker, someone asked what the first album each person had ever purchased was. Most people responded on-brand with a classic bluegrass or newgrass album, Bill Monroe’s Uncle Pen or Alison Krauss & Union Station’s Paper Airplane. For me, it was an easy answer: Third Eye Blind’s self-titled record. I know all of the words to all of the songs on that record and it’s still a personal fave of ours as a band. During late-night drives, we’ll blast that album front to back in the van. It still pumps us up, sets the vibe and energy high, and keeps us going full-speed ahead toward our next destination. ’90s pop, across the board, is a winner for this band, but that album specifically will always and forever hold a special place.

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

Great question. My top act to have seen live, hands down, would have to be the Band. Certainly Cold Chocolate’s musical vibe has been modeled after those raw, rootsy sounds of theirs. Their songs transcending genre, while being just so totally “them.” I’m not sure what food would pair best with seeing them. At The Last Waltz it was a Thanksgiving dinner, which is honestly one of my favorite meals of all time. But [with] a heavy meal, I’d want to dance my ass off at that show.

Southern BBQ is another obvious choice for Levon’s Arkansas-growl, but again maybe too heavy. I think I could get down with a fish boil at a show by the Band, thrown out across a table, family-style. Then I could grab little bites throughout the show while belting out “The Shape I’m In” with my idols on that stage.

WBUR recently wrote about us that our song “I Know This Girl” has “enough grit, drive and backbeat to make Cold Chocolate worthy heirs to The Band,” which is maybe the best thing ever written about us in the media.


Photo Credit: Lead image by Kelly Davidson, alternate images by Joe Navas.

BGS 5+5: Trey Hedrick

Artist: Trey Hedrick
Hometown: Wilkesville, Ohio
Latest Album: Sing, Appalachia (released February 20, 2026)

What other art forms – literature, film, dance, painting, etc. – inform your music?

Literature. It has probably helped my writing more than anything besides the act of writing itself. Wendell Berry has had a huge influence on me and he’s far and away my favorite writer. His prose is exceptional. There is a restraint and steadiness to it. He’s extremely prolific and consistent, which isn’t an easy thing to achieve. He says a great deal with very little and I learn from that every time I read a page.

There are many great writers I draw from in the same way: McCarthy, Kingsolver, McMurtry, Leopold, Abbey, Rooney, Hemingway, Faulkner, Burroughs – to name a few. I read widely, but tend to gravitate toward certain styles when I’m working on a project of my own. I’m always reading and if I’m not I make myself feel bad until I do. It’s a big part of the peace my wife and I have built into our days. When I’m in a creative season, I am a bit more intentional about my picks.

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

I love the out of doors. I grew up on a cattle farm in Appalachia and was usually either outside or in trouble. I still spend as much time as I can fishing and hiking and – something that is likely unknown about me – I love rock climbing and have traveled the world climbing. I am also a geologist in my straight job, which especially early on kept me working outside.

Nature shows up in almost every one of my songs. It is not something I reach for. It is just part of how I see things. Being outside has always been another place I find peace. If things are bad, going outside almost always makes them better to a varying degree for me

Admittedly, I do get tired of winter and the blues that come with it. That makes its way into the songs, too.

Genre is dead (long live genre!), but how would you describe the genres and styles your music inhabits?

I don’t think much about genre. My songs usually start on an acoustic guitar, so there’s naturally some bluegrass and country in them. That’s the language I grew up around. But I’m not trying to recreate anything. I don’t read music or know much theory and I don’t really know what rules I might be breaking. I’ve always had a good ear and I let that guide me. I’m lucky to have close friends who are incredible musicians, and they’d dress me down if something was off.

If someone needs a label, Americana works fine. Beyond that, I try not to overthink it or limit myself.

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

I love hip-hop, R&B, neo-soul type music. I especially love ’90s early 2000s neo-soul. D’Angelo, Erykah Badu, Lauryn Hill, Tevin Campbell, Mario, etc.

I enjoy those genres as much if not more, at times, than bluegrass and country. It’s like reading, I put on the music I need in the moment and I don’t limit myself. I guess that would surprise people, but I think it comes across in my singing some and may present in future sonic choices as well. We’ll see.

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

Fried potatoes from a cast iron skillet, greasy beans from Mamaw’s garden, macaroni noodles with tomato sauce, and a chicken fried steak. I could think of a lot of musicians to share that meal with, but the one who keeps coming to mind is Jerry Reed. He was hilarious and super intelligent. A great singer with excellent tone, and he was even a writer for Elvis on a couple tracks.

There’s a story about Elvis asking for Jerry to play on “Guitar Man,” a song Jerry wrote. Folks on Elvis’s team had to go get Jerry from the river where he was fishing to come to the studio and play the guitar part. None of the other session musicians could get it quite right. Legend. He isn’t really revered in modern memory for how brilliant of a technical player he was. He’d be a fun person to share that meal with.


Photo Credit: Chris Heidl

BGS 5+5: Frank Viele

Artist: Frank Viele
Hometown: New Haven, Connecticut
Latest Album: The Silo (EP)
Personal Nicknames (or rejected band names): I have no personal nicknames. Really.

Which artist has influenced you the most – and how?

In my formative years, it was Dave Matthews Band. I saw them live 137 times before I graduated college and basically learned how to play guitar in the parking lots of those shows. That constant-strum acoustic style Dave is known for shaped my right hand as a player from day one and still guides the way I play.

Beyond that, I’ve studied all the great songwriters, but I always lean toward heart-on-the-sleeve emotion – that raw, unfiltered passion you hear in Bruce Springsteen or in old soul records like Percy Sledge and Otis Redding. The kind of singing where it feels like the person might crack open mid-line. That honesty is what I chase every time I write or step up to a mic.

What’s your favorite memory from being on stage?

Almost a decade ago, I got to open for Blues Traveler in front of nearly 5,000 people at a festival in my childhood hometown – on the same field I used to play tee ball on. That was a full-circle, surreal kind of moment.

The only things that might top it are the first time Zach Myers from Shinedown pulled me on stage to sing “The Weight” with his Americana project, Allen Mack Myers Moore. Or when John Waite invited me up on stage in the Boston area to sing backup and play guitar with his band on Led Zeppelin’s “Whole Lotta Love.” Those moments as a growing indie artist where one of the greats treats you like a peer… that stuff sticks with you forever.

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

My first run of shows opening for Lee DeWyze back in 2015 had me pretty nervous — I mean, that guy can really sing. I think he could sense it. Before the last show of the run, he came into my green room just to hang out.

He said, “I’m going to give you some advice Joe Cocker gave me before we sang together on American Idol. Remember, everyone out there is rooting for you to be great.” That completely changed how I see a stage. I had an incredible show that night, and I carry that with me every time I walk out.

A close second came from Christine Ohlman, who I perform with each year at the Rhode Island Rhythm & Roots Festival. I was nervous before a set because the crowd kept growing, and she just smiled and said, “Just take ’em to church, Frank.”

So now that’s the mission every time – remember they’re rooting for me, and always take ’em to church.

Does pineapple really belong on pizza?

Being from New Haven, Connecticut – the pizza capital of the world – I feel obligated to answer this one sternly. I respect the idea of using pizza crust as an edible plate and experimenting, but pizza basically reached perfection when Pepe’s put clams on a pie. After that, we were done. We nailed it.

If you want pineapple, call it something else. Flatbread. Dessert bread. A tropical situation.

But the word pizza needs boundaries. As I say this, I also want to stress that I’m joking. And as much as I love pizza my way, I love chefs that treat their meals like art, and art can assuredly be experimental.

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

After that last question, you’ve got me in a full Italian food headspace. So give me my mom’s pasta e fagioli, an arugula salad with fresh tomatoes and my dad’s homemade lemon vinaigrette, and a basket of garlic knots from Salerno’s in Stuart, Florida.

All of that on the table, a bottle of red open, and Sinatra’s Songs for Swingin’ Lovers! spinning on the turntable.

That’s home.


Photo Credit: Lisa Sanchez Gonzalez