Billy Strings Draws a Line in the Sand with Sobriety, Not Bluegrass (Part 1 of 2)

From carving out a name for himself on the road as a teenager to winning a Grammy for Best Bluegrass Album (2019’s standout Home), the prodigious 29-year-old guitar player Billy Strings has cultivated a devoted following and collected an impressive list of accomplishments along the way. His latest Rounder Records release, Renewal, capitalizes on the confidence and artistic growth those experiences have delivered, with experimental new instrumentation, contemplative lyricism, and trademark picking. Produced by Jonathan Wilson (Roger Waters, Father John Misty), the sixteen-track opus offers a glimpse at an artist who is continuously rediscovering himself.

“I’m going through a part in my life where I’m looking through the windshield instead of in the rearview,” he says. “I think of a new day, the morning light, a spider molting, or a snake shedding its skin: It’s a renewal.” In the first of our two part BGS Artist of the Month interview, we caught up with Billy Strings about those new beginnings — on the stage, in the studio, and in his day-to-day life.

BGS: Renewal is mostly acoustic, but it pulls from a lot of different sources of inspiration — and not all of those are necessarily bluegrass. Is there any particular moment on the record where you noticed the influence of a genre that may be unexpected to some listeners?

Billy Strings: “Hide and Seek” is a song that maybe draws more from my influence of playing in metal bands — trying to write a song that’s more like a metal song, but with acoustic instruments… using odd time signatures, diminished chords, and avoiding the major scale. I grew up listening to a lot of death metal, and a lot of that music is just not verse-chorus-bridge, verse-chorus-outro. The songs are like 10 different parts. They’re hyper-composed, and that stuff’s sort of neat.

Was there anything that you did in the studio that took you out of your comfort zone?

I mean, I wouldn’t say it was uncomfortable, but it was different playing synthesizers and different instruments hands-on. I think I gained a little confidence when I won that Grammy — the next time I went into the studio, I was the one calling the shots: “Hey, do you have a triangle? Let’s all come together and do a singalong.” I was the one coming up with the creative ideas and feeling confident in myself to do that. On “Heartbeat of America,” I’m playing some old synthesizer, playing with the pitch wheel and stuff. That shit’s fun.

Hellbender” stands out as a reasonably upbeat, fun song when you’re listening to it, but the lyrics are… kind of dark. What was going on in your head when you were writing that?

That song’s about a real bad headache and a real bad hangover — being lost in the demons of alcohol, not knowing where to stop, saying, “Fuck it, I’m going to drink until the night’s over.” I haven’t drank in over five years: I haven’t had a sip of alcohol because I had a real bad headache one day. So it’s not really about me, but I wouldn’t really call it a fictional song either. I have been there and done that: woken up like that. It’s about a guy who can’t freakin’ stop.

“Know It All” on the new album talks about learning from your mistakes. Has there been any kind of a difficult learning experience that you feel shaped you as an artist?

Well, maybe that headache I was talking about.

Oh yeah?

One day we had this awesome gig. A lot of people showed up, and we sold a bunch of merch, and I thought we were fucking rock stars. I had been up all night and drinking beer and liquor and a bunch of shit. We got to the bar after and I was all, “Old Fashioneds! Get one for everybody, on me!” I was raring and tearing. But the next day, we barely made it to our gig, because I was puking every 10 minutes. We made it there in time to set up our stuff and play — we had to set up our gear in front of the audience. This was at a time where my career was really starting to take off, and I saw that as an opportunity to draw a line in the sand.

How so?

I think it’s about being conscious of my surroundings, being aware of the vibe that people are giving, and also being aware of the vibe that I’m putting off. I don’t want to be a drunk asshole when some fan comes up to me and says, “Hey man I really enjoyed the show.” I want to be there. I want to be able to say, “Thank you, man. Thank you for coming. I fucking appreciate it.” I just came off four gigs back-to-back. We played Spokane, Washington; Portland, Oregon; Seattle; and then somewhere in Montana. And right now I’m on my way to Salt Lake City. I can’t do that if I’m drinking. It’s all I can do to take care of myself. There’s no time for that shit.

You won Breakthrough Artist of the Pandemic from Pollstar —probably the first time anybody was awarded something like that. What motivated you to try new things when you lost your outlet on stage? Was there anything that struck you as a special moment even remotely connecting with your fans?

I’ve been doing this since I was 19 and I went on my first tour across the country. It’s all I’ve really known, just keeping this going. I’ve been “striking while the iron’s hot” for 10 years. [Laughs] So when all of a sudden I don’t have anything to do, it’s like, “Well shit. We need to keep doing something to engage the fans. We can’t just stop.” We started doing little streams at my house, and then that moved to doing a streaming tour around venues and stuff, and then eventually the whole Capitol Theater run, which was six nights, including this whole experiment where we tried to interact with our fans through telekinesis. That was really special. Even though there wasn’t anybody there, it felt like we were really connected with the audience.

You are out there day in and day out, and I’ve also seen you talk candidly about having anxiety and nerves before going on stage. Is there anything in particular that you do to manage that?

I mean, it’s been a journey. I hit the road when I was 19, playing 200 gigs a year, and for a while there, I was invincible, untouchable. I thought I could drive the van, sell the merch, book the hotels, settle up at the end of the night, write the songs, perform the shows, do everything. It was all on my shoulders. But I hit a wall where all of a sudden, instead of being confident, strong, and untouchable, I was fragile and scared of the world. Anxiety really fucked me up. I started having these crippling panic attacks where my whole body would go into convulsions.

I’m not trying to be a tough guy. I’m trying to be an honest guy. It’s uncomfortable for me to pretend like I’m feeling any way that I’m not, so if I’m angry, sad, anxious, mad? You’re going to know it because I don’t want to hide that shit. I’ve been going to therapy ever since 2019 and it’s helped me a bunch. I had a lot of trauma from my childhood that I had to sort out so I could keep moving forward and stop looking back. That’s what Renewal is all about.

Editor’s Note: Read part two of our Artist of the Month interview here.


Photo credit: Jesse Faatz

LISTEN: Tobacco City, “AA Blues”

Artist: Tobacco City
Hometown: Chicago, Illinois
Song: “AA Blues”
Album: Tobacco City, USA
Release Date: July 30, 2021
Label: Scissor Tail Records

In Their Words: “‘AA Blues’ is one of those songs that writes itself. My ex was having to go to AA meetings because of a brush with the law. It was cutting into our plans and I wrote her this ditty to make her feel better. The character in the song is trapped between working in a brewery and staring at beers all day and trying to walk a sober line. I think regardless of your sobriety status we can all relate to those kind of blues.” — Chris Coleslaw, Tobacco City


Photo courtesy of Tobacco City

While Making ‘Strawberry Mansion,’ Langhorne Slim Learns to Be Still

Langhorne Slim didn’t intend to make his new record, Strawberry Mansion, but he found a musical path through a crooked piece of time. He isn’t escaping the chaos of the era. Instead, we find him traversing it, soaking it in, and sharing a real-time creative reaction.

In “Sing My Song” he writes, “I’ll sing my song when my song appears.” By facing his own addiction and the many hardships the world has been dealt this past year, he cleared the path for the 22-song record to appear. With the support and musical collaboration of friends like Paul DeFiglia and Mat Davidson — as well as his family, label, and management — Strawberry Mansion stands as a fruitful monument to Slim’s hard work as a person and as an artist.

BGS: Will you talk a little bit about what you were experiencing leading into making this record?

LS: Well, I wasn’t writing music to write a record. I had been working for a long time trying to finish another project (the unreleased Lost at Last Vol. 2). I quit drinking and drugs about seven and half years ago and I relapsed with prescription medication that was prescribed to me and one thing led fairly quickly to the other, where I became dependent on that medication. That led me to about a year out West and a decision to come back to Nashville where I’ve lived for almost a decade. It is where I got sober the first time.

So the conversation in my head was, I’m going to go back home and get healthy. Right now, I’m actually in the apartment of my friend who came and drove me from Los Angeles back to Nashville and it was a brutal trip. And he’s a brother to me. He didn’t know that I was in bad shape and weaning myself off of these prescription pills. Prescription medication is a motherf***er and I have all kinds of thoughts and feelings about that. He found me in a place that he had not ever seen me in. I could see through his eyes that he did not recognize me and I don’t mean that poetically or metaphorically. My boy was clearly disturbed, frightened, annoyed, sad, and confused. When I dropped him off, he looked at me and I looked at him and I knew it was bad. He was just a mirror and I could see where I was at.

I called around some places and people and found some help. Shortly after I got home, the tornado hit. And then of course the pandemic. So energetically and physically, it was such a crazy wild time for everybody. On a deeply personal level, I think in retrospect, the slowing down and forced confrontation of things that needed immediate dealing with, there’s just so much that has been revealed in this. For me, who am I when I’m not a touring musician? Who am I when I’m facing my anxiety, my fear, whatever it might be? Some might say life on life’s terms.

For this record, I read that you had a friend that suggested that you write every day, which you had not done prior to that. Is that right?

It is right that you read that but it’s not the entire story… One of my friends, who I’ve known for many, many years sort of jokingly said, “If you just write a song every day, come over and we’ll record it.” As soon as the quarantine started, some songs started to come and at that point, it almost seemed like they were quarantine jingles. They were kind of on the nose for the situation but it felt good to have these new little songs. I would finish a song. I would not overthink the song. I would take it to my friend’s house in its rawest form. We would record it and I would post it and then I wouldn’t think about the song again. It was a cathartic thing. Catch, release, and on to the next one. And that wound up going on for a couple of months.

Were you interacting with fans over social media about the songs? And if so, did it wind up affecting the output?

Let me put it this way, I think what it was allowing me to do was to scratch an itch. I don’t know what would have happened if I wasn’t having some interaction, some connection in that way without being on tour. In this raw and intimate way, I was writing the song that day, making a little video, and putting it out to people who care or like what I do. It means a lot to me that other people not only relate but are feeling uplifted if only for the two minutes that they are listening to it. I’m sure that was a fuel and energetic force that allowed me to continue to do it.

When did you know that Strawberry Mansion was a record?

I’m superstitious and one time I told my good friend Jonny Fritz that there had been a black cat that was stalking my lawn and he laughed and rolled his eyes and said, “You know what is bad luck? Being so superstitious.” He’s a smart boy. When these songs were flowing, I didn’t want to call my manager or the record label because I thought it was taking it out of the spirit world and putting it into the more tangible physical one. After about 20-25 songs I had the idea for it to be a record, but wanted to keep writing and they finally called me and said, “We think that you should just record a stripped-down record,” which is what I wanted. A stripped-down, raw, immediate, and true to how the songs came about kind of record.

One of my favorite lines from the record is from “Panic Attack,” when you say, “I’m feeling things exponentially.” And that line can be for the good and the bad. What are you feeling exponentially right now in this moment?

I’m excited about the record. I’m proud of the record. I am looking forward to continuing to write songs and getting busy with whatever comes next. The feeling feelings exponentially can be positive. It can be negative. That was in terms of, obviously, a panic attack. I have been a sensitive boy my whole life so what I’m trying to do is to not let every feeling take me over or guide my next step, because if I’m not looking out for it, a certain kind of thought can manifest into an intense feeling very quickly.

There is going to be a lot of talk on this record about sobriety. This isn’t the first time I’ve gotten sober and I’m not trying to market or promote my sobriety. I’m trying to take that very seriously. It is part of the real shit that is in my life and it had to stop before more songs came. It seems dishonest for me not to discuss it. I still feel feelings very exponentially and would be lying to say that by getting sober or by writing a record that that cures any of it. It is a daily practice.

What are you most looking forward to musically after the pandemic has passed, and what are some things that you might do differently from having had this quiet time?

I think I am going to realize how much I miss the live experience. I think because I have been so fortunate to be able to write a bunch of music during this time, it has really fed that need. If I hadn’t been able to do it, I think I’d probably be really missing touring and being on the road. It feels weird to say but I don’t have that craving to be back out on the road. I miss performing for people.

For me personally, I could absolutely see touring a lot less and continuing to practice some semblance of stillness, whatever that means for me. More home time, I think would be healthy for me. Perhaps because I haven’t been under the delusion that touring is coming back any time soon since the beginning of this, I haven’t been constantly disappointed. I’m just trying to keep my shit together and have a healthy attitude about it and not have any expectations for what might be waiting for me down the street.


Photo credit: Harvey Washington