MIXTAPE: In the Same Room with Ethan Lipton & His Orchestra

Last year, my bandmates and I went into the woods to a studio that wasn’t a studio to record this collection of songs, Did You Do The Thing We Talked About? (Out February 16.) Some were songs from before the pandemic that meant a lot to us, and others were new songs I needed to write coming out of it.

Usually, when you go into the studio, you’re trying to maximize control, right? You put everyone in different rooms, isolate each sound, get a basic track, then have everyone redo their part until they’re happy with it. Then you add other instruments, effects, color.

We didn’t do that for this album. Coming out of the pandemic, we needed to share space again. We needed to be in the same room, to see each other’s fingers, to watch the crumbs clinging for dear life to each other’s shirts.

I wanted to make a record that sounded like the four of us communing.We all set up in one big room. Made baffles out of couches and blankets, like you do. We recorded in whole takes without overdubs or extra instruments. Our guitarist, Eben Levy, engineered the tracking. Our saxophonist, Vito Dieterle, and I did the cooking. Ian Riggs, our bass player, kept the tempos and the peace. The album sounds a lot like what our band sounds like on any given night after playing together for 20 years, and that’s just what we were after.

In creating this Mixtape of songs recorded “in the same room,” I was just trying to think of recordings by artists I revere that contain a sense of intimacy and life – I can’t say for sure how they were all recorded. More than anything, these songs make me feel like I’m listening to humans saying human things to other humans. That always makes me feel less alone in the world. – Ethan Lipton

“Walter Johnson” – Jonathan Richman

This is an a cappella recording, so how could it not be intimate? Still, I love this song about one of baseball’s all-time greats, and on this version, Richman sounds like he’s making it all up — lyrics, melody, tempo — as he goes. No one else could do a recording quite like this. Richman occupies a unique space in music, blending folk, garage rock, and proto-punk (?), but it’s his chops as goofball raconteur that I love most. This song also reminds me of my big brother, who introduced me to Richman and a lot of my favorite songwriters.

“Christmas Card from a Hooker in Minneapolis” – Tom Waits

Two pianos, Tom (acoustic) and George Duke (electric). And they create a whole universe together. To me it sounds like Tom is drunk and George is trying to hold him up. There’s so much air and grease and love in it. Blue Valentine isn’t my favorite Waits album — there are too many other exceptional ones — but I’m devoted to the epic narratives of this song and “Kentucky Avenue.” And “Christmas Card” has my favorite lyric ever: “I don’t have a husband / he don’t play the trombone.”

“I’ve Loved You All Over the World” – Willie Nelson

A nearly perfect album, and of course Daniel Lanois got Willie to record it in an old Mexican movie theater. It sounds like every musician on this track is dialed in to every other. I mean, if Bobbie Nelson’s clankity piano doesn’t break your heart, I don’t know what will. And Mickey Raphael’s harmonica is something I hear in my dreams. The drumming takes us into this whole other world. Lanois once said: “We had some nice risers set up for Willie and Emmylou [Harris] and the drummers. So we had a nice time setting it up like a club, and it sounds as though the fun that you’re hearing in the track was definitely in the building at the time.” Amen to that.

“Stardust” – Hoagy Carmichael

I don’t know how this recording was made, but the intimacy of it feels so honest and assured, you almost can’t believe there was a time when it didn’t exist. Nobody sings Carmichael’s songs like he does, and this version is full of his idiosyncratic phrasing. It’s hard not to see Hoagy sitting at the piano when you hear it. And the song itself, I mean ranking is ridiculous, but it has to be one of the best ever written.

Here are a couple of faves from our saxophonist, Vito Dieterle:

“Alone Together” – Lee Konitz, Brad Mehdlau, Charlie Haden

Lee Konitz was a huge inspiration to me. A true improviser. Brad Mehldau took the scene by storm with his virtuosity, but I always knew his roots were in the old masters, and this group showcases all facets of Brad’s talent in ways that few other albums do. And Charlie Haden brings everybody together in a grounding way like only he could.

This group was together only briefly but it captured the essence of playing jazz live and being in the moment with little ego, with true spontaneity and freedom within the confines of the traditional forms of the American songbook. These three were playing live all in the same room/club. The result was just magic. And pure sensitivity and support. I encourage everyone to explore the entire record.

“Fall” – Miles Davis Quintet

This composition by Wayne Shorter is a perfect example of what I consider a “musical trust fall.” A moment when you know everyone in that room has your back, so no matter what, you feel like you can’t fail. The tempo here is liquid, and the chances taken are mighty and bold. You can feel each musician digging into and supporting each other’s choices, and in some cases making those choices even more bold and beautiful in real time. This track changed my life. The first piece of music that truly made me aware of teamwork being the dream work, in a musical context.

Our bass player Ian Riggs wrote about two of his favorites, including another classic by Tom Waits: (The four of us come from different points of musically, but it’s rare for only one of us to like a particular song. In almost every case, one or more of the other three has big love for the same tune.)

“Semi Suite” – Tom Waits

From the quiet count-off to the rousing peak, this song is a wonderful instance of a group of people listening and breathing with each other in the same room. Bones Howe, the producer on this (The Heart of Saturday Night) and other early Waits albums, came from a jazz background and preferred to record musicians that way, without separation. I suppose a multi-tracked version of this song could have also been great, but I’m sure glad they gave this way a shot first.

“Switch Blade” – Duke Ellington, Charles Mingus, Max Roach

The stories about these “Money Jungle” sessions are legendary. They say it wasn’t the best day for Charles Mingus. Apparently he packed-up and stormed out more than once. Duke Ellington and Max Roach (an idol and longtime friend of his) talked him into staying each time. Mingus’ playing is wildly erratic but also beautiful and full of raw feeling. Thank goodness for wise friends who ask you to stay, especially on the bad days.

And here are a couple of picks from Eben Levy, our guitarist.

“Little Ditty” – Cyrus Chestnut

Pianist Cyrus Chestnut’s 1993 album Revelation, with Christopher J. Thomas on bass and Clarence Penn on drums, feels so alive because it’s so live. The liner notes state, “Recorded live to two-track analog at Clinton Studios, Studio B on June 7 & 8, 1993. Complete takes only, with no additional mixing or editing.” It’s all tightrope playing and tightrope engineering. Everyone involved nails the landing, like Kerri Strug. There’s zero filler on this album, but the track “Little Ditty” kills me every time. When Chesntut goes into the very highest keys after the break at about 1:40, the swing is so hard and so light at the same time. Philippe Petit!

“Tight Like That” – Asylum Street Spankers

The 2004 album Mercurial by the Asylum Street Spankers was recorded live in a 100-year-old church direct to a 2-track reel-to-reel tape deck. I love how much the room itself is a voice on the album. The drums are way in the back. The singer is right up front. Wait, holy shit! That harmonica is right in my face! And check out the old 20s barn burner “Tight Like That.” Great solos, and the Spankers mix in some of Jim Carroll Band’s “People Who Died” just to fuck with me.

Now that I see the tunes everyone picked, I can’t wait to listen to this mix-tape!!! There are pieces of all of us in each of these songs. – Ethan Lipton


Photo Credit: David Goddard

Out Now: Julia Cannon

Julia Cannon is one of a kind. Energetic. Witty. Sparkly. Bold. Creative. Unapologetically and fully herself. Her energy is captivating, outfits intriguing – she sometimes shows up in a full ball gown on stage – and her music is catchy and relatable. With a magnetic presence and unapologetic authenticity, Julia brings a fresh and vibrant energy to the music scene. In addition to being a songwriter, instrumentalist, vocalist, and performer, she also produces and mixes her music. 

Julia has played many Queerfest showcases and was part of Queerfest 2023, taking the stage at The Basement East. In this interview we talk about her dedication and the hard work required to pursue her career in music, her experience as an LGBTQ+ artist, and her pursuits as both an artist and producer.

What’s your ideal vision for your future?

Julia Cannon: It would include a lot more peace and a lot more freedom. I’ve been working since I was 12, sometimes two jobs trying to get to college or help my mom with her alterations shop or pay off my private student loans. I just want to be able to fully invest more time and more of the money that I make into my craft.

What is your greatest fear?

Not reaching my full potential and never being able to invest fully in myself.

What is your current state of mind?

I’ve been in the grind mindset my entire adulthood. I’m 30 now, and I’m finally starting to be able to do some of the things that I want to do. I just finished my first little tour and had a blast. I’m transitioning as I pay off my private loans in the next year or so.

What would a “perfect day” look like for you?

I’d sleep in until 10 a.m., go and have some tea with my cat, and then start playing guitar. Hopefully I’d end up making music somehow, and then a shitty rom-com and I fall asleep on the couch. Can you tell I’m an introvert?

Why do you create music? What’s more satisfying to you, the process or the outcome?

It’s the first way that I learned how to process and communicate my feelings and thoughts. And it’s still the best way to root around in there. And then I get to share it and that’s magical.

Do you create music primarily for yourself or for others?

It’s selfish. And I’m not even motivated by external validation, which is hell. But it’s also freeing. But sometimes my inner critic is a dick.

What’s the best advice you’ve ever gotten?

Recently I was freaking out about god-knows-what and my Uncle Vic said, “Just go where the joy is,” and I was like… damn, it is that simple.

Who are your favorite LGBTQ+ artists and bands?

I saw The Collection at Queerfest 2023 and instantly became a fan. I am also a big Carmen Dianne and Kentucky Gentleman fan. Purser is still my fav queer artist in town for sure, though!

For anyone reading this who might not be out of the closet, were there any specific people, musicians, or resources that helped you find yourself as a queer individual?

Find your people and go where the joy is. And also therapy.

What does it mean to you to be an LGBTQ+ musician?

Queerness in general just means freedom from following the norm. Life outside of the box. I think that translates to the art that we make as well.

What are your release and touring plans for the next year?

I have no idea. While I’m still working full time to pay off my loans, I’m taking it day by day. I’d love to release some EPs and keep playing in new cities. I had so much fun on tour.

Your album, How Many, came out this year. What was the process like for you to write, record, and release this collection of songs?

It was really fun and fulfilling. I want to keep growing as a producer and a mix engineer and I feel like I did that with this album. I got to see where I need to continue growing and have new goals for future projects. I crowdfunded How Many, so I was able to hire and work with a lot of people that elevated the project as well. It made me so happy.

You’ve collaborated with other LGBTQ+ artists like Purser. What is it like for you to work with other artists in the community?

My inner child is so stoked about it. I grew up in such a small town in Alaska. Being able to collaborate with inspiring artists who are also queer is incredibly healing.

What has your experience been as a queer woman of color in Nashville?

Mixed bag honestly lol. I feel tokenized sometimes and sometimes I’m happy to be representation for younger generations. I think, in general, things are trending upward. I feel safe and supported.


Photo courtesy of Julia Cannon

LISTEN: The FBR, “Empty Room”

Artist: The FBR
Hometown: Franklin, Tennessee
Song: “Empty Room”
Album: Ghost
Release Date: January 19, 2024

In Their Words: “Tim and I had hardly spent any time apart at all for nearly two years during the pandemic. There are times, especially in the winter, that I seem to struggle spending time on my own. I don’t like being left alone with my thoughts too long. He was heading out of town for a long weekend in Colorado, and I found myself riddled with the same old apprehension and anxiety about being alone for four days.

“I usually get kind of moody/cold and distant, so a few days prior, as the feelings began to surface, I communicated that I was struggling. I asked him to work on some sad lyrics for me to write music to while he was gone, so it would give my unwanted energy an outlet. I came home from a day of running around to the words of a tune, at the time titled ‘An Empty Room,’ sitting on the piano.

“He said the first thing that came to his mind when sitting down to write was quite literally an empty room, kind of symbolizing that loneliness. The first night he was gone I sat at the piano just reading the words over and over, and trying to find the right chord progression.

“It is really cool listening back to the earliest phone recordings I took that weekend, and slowly hearing the song come to life. It was a monumental moment for me, being able to be vulnerable enough to express my struggles and for both of us to be able to communicate it through a song.

“After he returned, we both felt the song needed a bridge, so we worked on the music and lyrics together to wrap it up. A few months later, while at rehearsal, the guys were upstairs taking a break, and I had asked Brandon (our keys player) to run through the song with me, as I had pictured it as a piano ballad up to that point.

“After the first verse, the guys were inspired, came quickly back downstairs and jumped in at the perfect time on the perfect beat, and we had what I call a ‘Holy Shit!’ moment. The intensity was so awesome that we all knew that is how it needed to be recorded!” – Malarie McConaha

Track Credits:

Lyrics by Tim Hunter
Music by Malarie McConaha
Produced by Tim Hunter, Malarie McConaha
Mixed by Jim Scott
Lead Recording Engineer – Kevin Willis
Assistant Mix Engineer – Martin Cooke
Vocals – Malarie McConaha
Background Vocals – Malarie McConaha, Zachary Goforth, Tim Hunter
Drums – Mike Malinin
Bass Guitar – Chopper Anderson
Rhythm Electric Guitar – Kevin Willis
Lead Electric Guitar – Evan Opitz
Acoustic Guitar – Tim Hunter
Keys – Brandon Mordecai


Photo Credit: The FBR

LISTEN: Steve Lewis, “Tale of Woe”

Artist: Steve Lewis
Hometown: Nashville, Tennessee
Song: “Tale of Woe”
Album: Exit to Mystery
Release Date: September 8, 2023
Label: Broken Hip Records

In Their Words: “This song was written while I was in the group King Wilkie and while we did record it, it didn’t fit the winsome vibe of the album at the time. We did pitch it to Levon Helm & co. during the Dirt Farmer era, but they were all set for material. Happily, we have a new (better) recording of a song with a lot of history and a lyric about being distant from the modern fast-paced world – and we can all relate to that.” – Steve Lewis


Photo Credit: Robbie Hall

WATCH: Leon Creek, “High Hopes”

Artist: Leon Creek
Hometown: Los Angeles, California
Song: “High Hopes”
Release Date: June 28, 2023

In Their Words: “The origins of Leon Creek as a band stems from our love of story songs in the country tradition. ‘High Hopes’ incorporates this approach, creating a song that is our ode to perseverance. We got the band together in the studio and cut this to capture the energy of our live show blending newly-mined honky-tonk influences with our singer Chris Pierce’s powerful soul vocals.” – Leon Creek (Chris Pierce, Matthew Stevens, and Erik Janson)


Photo Credit: Caitlyn Phu

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

WATCH: Natalie Jane Hill, “Plants and Flowers That Do Not Grow Here”

Artist: Natalie Jane Hill
Hometown: Austin, Texas
Song: “Plants and Flowers That Do Not Grow Here”
Album: Solely
Release Date: October 29, 2021
Label: Dear Life Records

In Their Words: “‘Plants and Flowers That Do Not Grow Here’ is one of my more personal songs on the album. It’s about trying to navigate through a time of addiction while in a disassociated state. I had spent some time trying to distinguish reality from illusion, and I wanted this song to capture the dreamlike quality I was lost in. This video was captured in places that are very familiar to me. It’s based around my neighborhood in San Marcos, Texas. And it ends in the town where I grew up, in Wimberley, Texas. I wanted there to be more of an urban feel to this video while still intertwining some natural aspects. The opening scene is actually footage from a house show I played. It’s meant to portray the idea of me continuing on into the night after the show. I do a lot of aimless walking when I need to clear my head and I felt like this song needed that to be the essence. I love how Jordan Moser captured the early light as dawn approached. There’s definitely a dreamlike quality to this song as these revelations sort of unveil with the morning sunrise. ” — Natalie Jane Hill


Photo credit: Julian Neel

From the Scrap Pile, James McMurtry Crafts a Frank (and Fictional) Album

Holding a conversation with James McMurtry is similar to experiencing his music. He is frank, eloquent, and gets to the heart of the matter with few words. On The Horses and the Hounds, his first album of new material in nearly seven years, he tells sometimes complicated emotional stories through his fictional characters, crafted within the limits of rhyme and meter. His deft chronicling of human nature woven with descriptions of place and scene give the listener context beyond the experience, almost like each song is the essence of a short story or novel. In “Fort Walton”, he describes a knotty internal conflict in three lines as his grumpy narrator admonishes himself for losing his temper at his hotel:

The internet’s down and they don’t know why
And I damn near made the desk clerk cry
And there wasn’t any reason for that

McMurtry dialed in to Zoom for this conversation with BGS.

BGS: You recorded this album in L.A. at Jackson Browne’s studio. When you went to do that, did you have a precise amount of songs ready? Do you overcut or undercut?

McMurtry: It depends on the record. I’ve never really overcut by much. This time it was the way I used to do it when I was in my 20s. I sort of metaphorically do my homework on the school bus. The way this one worked out is Ross Hogarth, the producer, knew Jackson and he found a window when we could get into his studio to track, but he said, “You gotta finish the songs by this date.” Most of the songs were finished within the last month before tracking. Some of them I actually finished in a Rodeway Inn in Culver City the night before we tracked it. Sometimes that works. That adrenaline rush of having a deadline will get you through. Very few of the songs were started and finished from scratch for this record. Mostly I work from a scrap pile. I have a laptop. I scroll through my notes app. I scroll through my writing programs and look for lyrics that go together or something that I want to work on right then. But there were a couple like “If It Don’t Bleed” that I wrote specifically for this record.

How often do you write?

Not very often at all. I write when it is time to make a record usually. And that depends on when my tour draw falls off. When I started making records thirty years ago the strategy was to tour to support record sales. The business model was that you were supposed to sell enough records to make royalties and to live off them. That never happened. My records were very expensive to make when I was on Columbia. They never came near recouping their production expense and so I wound up learning how to tour cheap. That came in handy much later when Napster and Spotify turned the whole business on its head. Everybody had to figure out how to do what I and some of my contemporaries were already doing. Which was just drive around in a van and keep everything cheap and profit on the tour.

I’ve read that you don’t consider your songs to be autobiographical. Where do you find your characters? How do you bring them to life?

I am a fiction writer. There will be a little bit of my life in a song but it is gonna get rearranged for the sake of a better story. Usually, I’ll hear a couple of lines and a melody in my head and I ask myself, “Who said that?” I try to envision the character who would have said those lines then I work backward to the story.

Speaking of melody, when you are writing, rhyme and meter are clearly important to you and you are masterful at both. But do you consider melody as you are crafting lines from the get-go?

Definitely. I’ve put words to music a few times. I have had jams with my band that I did off the cuff and years later I’d put lyrics in them, like “Saint Mary of the Woods,” which was the title track to one of my records. That came out of a jam that we recorded just for the fun of it. But it is very hard to put words to music. I don’t think I have ever tried to start with just words and then tried to put music to that. I usually have to get a little bit of melodic sense.

In terms of the song “Operation Never Mind,” you hone in on the lack of information we have about what war and conflict are really like these days. Can you talk about your inspiration for that song?

When I was a kid, Vietnam was still going on in full force. We only had three or four television networks and everyone listened to Walter Cronkite. He was the voice of the center and everyone right left and center listened to him. That war did not end because kids were marching in the streets. We pulled out because Walter Cronkite got enough of it. His generation decided it was a stalemate and we were never going to get out of it so we left. … One of the things that has struck me over the years is that we no longer have actual war coverage. Back in Cronkite’s day, we’d watch the 6 o’clock news and we’d see actual footage from battles and shots of the troops walking along and looking bored and lonesome on a hot dusty day. We got more of a feel for what that war was actually like. Whereas now, we get nothing.

Now they say there are embeds out there with the troops, some of whom are doing very good journalism but it is not front page, because there is no front page. Everyone has their own channel to go to hear their own opinions shot back at them. We just don’t have coverage. We don’t have any idea of what the actual war is like. Or what it is about or why we are there, really. War is big money. I think there are a lot of powerful people who would have just as soon stayed in. That’s kind of what I tried to do in the song. Just remind people, “Hey, we got people in harm’s way over there. As citizens, we are supposed to question why and we are not doing it. Nobody is pointing the way.

In lieu of being able to tour, you’ve been streaming performances, right? How has it been connecting to fans online?

It is a different skill. I have yet to really elevate it to an art form. But it needs to be done. People need to do more of this. A lot of people looked at streaming as a stopgap measure. I’ve gone into it thinking, this might be what I’m doing. I might have to be this twisted Mr. Rogers guy for the rest of my life. I better figure out how to have fun with it. And I have. I can sit here with six or seven acoustic guitars, all of them tuned and capoed for whatever song I’m going to do. It is easy. I don’t have to move a lot of stuff. I’d never carry that many acoustics on the road. They’d take up half the van.

You have a dedicated page to COVID-19 on your website and you’ve been vocal about the pandemic. Have you had any revelations about how the music industry works or things you would like to see changed?

I’ve never had a firm handle on the music industry. I work my little corner of it. I really can’t predict what is going to happen but I do think that Jason Isbell’s mindset will prevail in the concert industry. I’m trying to impose that myself. I don’t play indoors unless you’ve got a vaccination card and a mask. Outdoors I’ll be a little laxer. We can’t have big indoor gatherings with the delta variant going on.

Austin is just rife with breakthrough cases now, especially amongst musicians. Seems like the drummers and the singers get it first because they are breathing down to their toenails. Drumming is an extremely aerobic activity and the same with singing. If there is some viral load hanging in the air, a singer is going to get it probably. It’d take two hands to count the cases — fully vaccinated COVID cases — among Austin musicians. And that’s just this morning.

I’ve played a couple of outdoor shows and I’m going to New Mexico and Arizona in early September. I had to cancel a show in Phoenix because they wouldn’t agree to my safety protocol but it turns out another venue in Phoenix was fine with it. Jason Isbell has really taken a big stand and he’s had to move a lot of big shows. Overall the trend is going to be towards his state of mind. If we are going to have a concert business in the future, it is going to be mask and vax. It will take a little while for people to flip over or else nobody is going to play.


Photo credit: Mary Keating-Bruton

LISTEN: Rod Gator, “Out Here in Echo Park”

Artist: Rod Gator (aka Rod Melancon)
Hometown: Wright, Louisiana
Song: “Out Here in Echo Park”
Album: For Louisiana
Release Date: September 17, 2021
Label: Blue Élan Records

In Their Words: “I wrote ‘Out Here in Echo Park’ during my last year living in Echo Park. Every evening I’d walk five miles down to the L.A. River and sit along the bank. It was one of the most peaceful times of my life. During the walk I’d hear Spanish music playing from windows and watch the sun slowly set. East L.A. means a lot to me. It’s where I go in my mind when I feel overwhelmed. I picture myself sitting along the L.A. River. I miss Echo Park everyday. It’s the place where I finally began to feel comfortable in my own skin.” — Rod Gator


Photo credit: David McClister

LISTEN: Chris Robley, “Love Is a Four-Letter Word”

Artist: Chris Robley
Hometown: Lewiston, Maine
Song: “Love Is a Four-Letter Word”
Album: A Filament in the Wilderness of What Comes Next
Release Date: September 14, 2021
Label: Cutthroat Pop Records

In Their Words: “Bob Dylan wrote a song called ‘Love Is a Four-Letter Word.’ I didn’t know that until I was on stage announcing my new song and someone shouted, ‘I LOVE Dylan!’ Anyway, you can’t copyright titles and I didn’t borrow any other lyrics — so we’re not in Darius Rucker or Old Crow Medicine Show territory here. It’s all mine, Bob! I don’t know if there’s much to explain except the obvious: love can be a double-edged sword. We can build beautiful things inspired by love. Or we can build walls, reactionary political movements, or just act like selfish shitheads, all because of the same basic force. One word, different outcomes.” — Chris Robley


Photo credit: Lauren Breau