Tag: Americana

Drayton Farley Asks the Big Questions

Posted on by Justin Hiltner

You’ve got to have some durability to name your album A Heavy Duty Heart. For Drayton Farley, paying a decade’s worth of dues is an important part of the story.

After a slow but steady build of recording albums and relentless touring, Farley picked up four significant synch placements in 2025, with songs “Blue Collar,” “Touch and Go,” and “It’s Called Doubt” heard in the Paramount+ series Landman, and “Turn Around” appearing in the CBS show Sheriff Country. That remarkable achievement seemed like a perfect way to set up A Heavy Duty Heart, which was recorded with his touring band and produced by Sadler Vaden.

“What I found is, usually the biggest enemy is me when it comes to how I’m feeling about how it’s going,” Farley says. “When things like that happen, it pulls you again out of your head and reminds you, ‘No, everything’s going great, actually. You’re doing really well, and you should just keep doing it and get out of your head a little bit.’”

In an interview with Good Country, the Birmingham, Alabama-based singer-songwriter retraces his trajectory to becoming one of roots music’s most promising performers. He explains why he considers Robert Earl Keen a role model and shares the song that still makes his wife cry.

The opening song, “Love We Mean,” captures that moment in a relationship where you have a rare moment to reflect. What was on your mind as that song was taking shape?

Drayton Farley: Yeah, it was pretty much that. I wanted to write a song about that moment where the kids are gone and you’re not on the road and there’s not a lot going on. All of a sudden, you’re both just at the house and there’s nothing to do or worry about. [Laughs] And you’ve both been going a hundred miles an hour, sometimes in the same direction, sometimes in the other direction, but all of a sudden, everything just kind of stops and gets quiet. Then you’re both looking at each other like, “What the hell just happened?” And you start kind of taking stock and checking in.

I sensed a theme throughout this album of assessing where you are in life and asking those big questions. Then I looked you up and saw that you’re just 30 years old. Have you always been the kind of guy who’s willing to look inward and analyze the world around you?

Yeah, I think so. I don’t know why. I think that feels easier to do. I celebrate my 10th wedding anniversary in May. You know, I’m only 30, but I guess I’ve worked enough of the real jobs and been married long enough with two daughters now, these kinds of things feel required to do.

What were the day jobs you had before you could finally dedicate yourself to music?

Out of high school, I spent about three and a half years working on the railroad [as a subcontractor for Norfolk Southern doing derailment cleanups]. I got married while I was working there, then quit that job, and I got a job working for Mercedes-Benz. I worked on the assembly line building cars for the next four years. During that last year is when I started releasing music. I spent the last two years there, kind of gigging after work every day that I could, just trying to build whatever local presence I could and release as much music as I could and build a catalog. And this is just me and a guitar with a few microphones. Just lo-fi. It’s really demo tapes. They’re live recordings really, just in the house.

Then I left that job so that I could gig more. I got a job working for Safelite, doing auto glass for about two months. Then I booked myself opening a few tours and I booked a little headline run for myself. I told my boss, “Man, I gotta do music. I thought I could just open my schedule a little more and that would make me happier. But it’s pretty obvious now that music is what I have to do.” In the next month or two, I met my agent at CAA, met my manager, and hit it off with David Macias at Thirty Tigers. All the dominoes started falling immediately. Within three months of quitting that last job, I was already booked to open two shows for Willie Nelson. So it all happened fast, and it’s like reassurance that I’d made the right choice.

I’m going to quote a lyric back to you, which is “Somewhere deep inside I knew/ And I know you knew it, too/ Couldn’t be more proud to see we saw each other through.” That’s got to be the best feeling to know it actually happened for you. You held onto the dream. How did you stay motivated when things weren’t exactly going fast for you?

I think, especially for those times, the struggle was the motivation. It came pretty naturally. That song specifically, “Dream Come True,” that is mine and my wife’s story. I spent those years working the jobs – and even on the railroad I brought my guitar with me to write songs in the hotel rooms. I played open mics after work. We traveled for work on that job. So, those days, all the way leading up to, I guess around ‘22, that was it.

It was always just like, “How do you even make a career in music?” You know, “I’ve never been to Nashville. I don’t know anybody in Nashville. I really don’t know anyone in the Birmingham music scene. I don’t even know where to start or what to do, other than use social media to try to get my stuff out there.” And then fast forward to Mercedes. I was gigging after work for a few years, like Thursday, Friday, Saturday, as many shows as I can play, and I’m releasing EPs that I’ve self-recorded. The dream was always to do music and just find a way to be able to support us with music, instead of these other jobs that aren’t what I’m supposed to do.

We were trying to have kids and start a family and we ended up losing the first pregnancy. We kept trying after that, we had a second pregnancy, and we lost that one. So there for a while, it just felt like music wasn’t going to happen. How do you get that to kick off? And we’ve lost two pregnancies, so who knows if we can even have kids? That was our shared dream. That is what the whole song is about. We have two daughters now and this is what I do. When my wife hears that song now, she cries.

Being married myself, I appreciate these songs about the depth of that relationship, just leaning on each other and trusting each other.

I just needed something in my catalog that would reflect those parts of my life, because I’ve written so much about other things. Just looking back through all the songs, I was like, I have a severe lack of love songs going on, you know? Why not write an entire album of it?

I also picked up on the Robert Earl Keen reference in “Feel Like Getting High.” What do you enjoy about the music that he’s made over the years?

It spans a lot of different moods and I want to be more that way. So far, a lot of my projects and albums and catalog have had a similar atmosphere around it all. What he’s talking about, and what he sings about and writes about, is a pretty broad spectrum. As a writer, I want to get more in that direction where I’m not gridlocking myself to a certain topic or a certain mood. I would say that’s inspiring from him.

Why did the album title, A Heavy Duty Heart, seem to fit?

That was the hardest part of this whole thing, just naming it. It had me stuck for a while, trying to figure out the name. I don’t know where that came from. It was just a thought and I kind of liked the way it rolled off the tongue. Looking through the songs, almost all of these songs say the word “heart,” and it’s talking about the inward, deeper, zoomed-in struggles and details of my life, being a touring musician and having children and a wife, and our journey to get there. So, it felt like it would take a pretty strong heart and will to keep going through all that and keep your eye on the prize. I thought that title reflected the overall idea of the album.

I really like “Turn Around” right there at the end of the record. What was going on in your life when you were when you wrote that song?

That was a similar thing to what I was talking about earlier, where it was kind of throwing yourself a pity party and losing perspective. “Why is this going on?” “Why are these tickets not selling more?” “Why is this artist doing more than I’m doing? Two years ago, we were at the same place.” It’s just a game of comparison on social media and that can really begin to affect you, just wondering if you’re stalling, or if you’re doing well or not.

But the truth is, that’s just your mind going to those places because you haven’t kept your own perspective on everything. Like, me five years ago wouldn’t believe anything that me right now would have to tell them about all the things I’ve done and accomplished. That’s the real perspective. And when you lose it, you get too far in your head, for no good reason. And then stopping and turning around, kind of taking stock of where you’re at, and what all you have, and measuring yourself again.

Photo Credit: Leah Dockery

A One-of-a-Kind Conversation with Jonny Fritz

Posted on by Justin Hiltner

It is deeply joyful sitting with Jonny Fritz at a restaurant he suggested (Pollos Puebla #1) in an area of Los Angeles he’s an expert on (Pasadena/Altadena border) and talking about subjects he thinks about a lot, ranging from rebirthing ceremonies to alimony to how…“different” Nashville is now. He’s keenly honest about his life, his work, and his thoughts about any question thrown his way. Nothing is out of line or off limits. Nothing is filtered by a publicist or an agenda. It is off the cuff and real and wild.

We met over grilled chicken, rice, and beans to discuss his newest work, Debbie Downers (Woodwinds), a reimagining of the original 2025 album Debbie Downers. The conversation unfolded much like the album, with unexpected turns and humor that expose raw nerves about an unfriendly music industry, the beauty of PG Tips, the subtlety of serving a song, and the goal of taking a ride on the wave of a sliced open above-ground pool.

Well, let’s talk about Woodwinds. I’m a huge woodwind fan. How’d this come about?

Jonny Fritz: Oh, yeah? Me too. I love woodwinds. I’ve always loved them. I think they’re so great.

It’s so expensive making a record. It’s just stupid, you know? For example, the last record I made, Sweet Creep, I made it pretty cheap. I think it cost about 12,000 bucks. But ATO Records had an option on it so they could pick it up. They bought Dad Country, the record before that, for 5,000 bucks. It cost me five grand to make. “We’ll pay you five grand for it.” All right, fine. And then, hidden in the contract – or at least hidden to me – they got the option on the next one. Same deal. So when I made Sweet Creep they picked up the option. So for $5,000, they got this record that cost me $12k. I was like, “Jesus, man, this business is so rough.” And I just knew it was going to be something similar with the next one.

By this one, Debbie Downers, I thought, “What do I really want to do?” I might as well just do what I want, because there’s nothing worse than having something be expensive and unsatisfactory. I just decided I really wanted to make the record over and over and over again. I have a bunch of different visions for how it should go and I wouldn’t call any of them the one.

The Woodwinds one was something I’ve always just wanted to do. So I’m pretty pleased with it. I got this amazing guy in Highland Park who does film and TV stuff. There’s not a lot of work going on right now, so he was willing to do it. And the first couple of arrangements that he came up with, I was just giddy. I couldn’t believe how cool it was.

Were there any revelations for you? When you heard them in that arrangement, was there anything that shocked you about it?

Hmm… Yeah, some of the versions with the woodwinds really lent themselves to the winds better than any other version. I wrote this song called “Have You Seen Her.” I wrote it coming off of anesthesia. I was out of my mind. I got a hip replacement at UCLA 10 years ago. You know, coming off anesthesia affects people in weird ways. I’m one of them. It really got me, I wrote this song and I felt like it was the most brilliant thing.

It was so embarrassing. I wrote everybody who I knew who was high up at Rolling Stone, and all the Newport Folk Festival team, and all their PR team. I mean, I wrote everybody. And I wrote these really incoherent emails. I haven’t actually looked at them in a long time. I looked at them right after I wrote them and I was so ashamed. But I wrote all these emails being like, “You’re gonna want to get Scarlett Johansson down here. I need to perform this for her. And you need to get Joaquin [Phoenix] here, too.”

I’m not a social climber, but there was something in me that was like, “You need to make some moves. Call out a lifeline.” I was so ashamed of it for so long, because it was one of the most embarrassing moments in my life, for sure.

All of that to say, I didn’t want to play it or record it. I had to overcome it, admit it, and start talking about it. When I heard it with the woodwinds, I was blown away.

Years ago, I worked with Chris Crofton on a comedy event at Third Man Records that involved a compilation of found video footage that was submitted. There were so many submissions of people coming out of anesthesia, and I remember Chris immediately going, “No, that isn’t funny.” It really isn’t; you aren’t in your right mind.

God bless that man. He always knows exactly what the fuck is up. He is driven by pure heart and knows exactly where his morals should be. He’s incorruptible.

Do you spend a lot of time on social media? What is your relationship to it as a creator?

Pretty passive. I like social media. I feel like I’m kind of floating above social media. By like eight feet, just kind of looking down at it. Like, “What are you guys doing? That’s insane.” Then I dive into it to interact, and then just kind of get out of it. I get a little hooked on it for sure, but I hear about the addictions and the stuff that people fall for, and just like the amount of engagement. But it’s like engagement versus quality of life. I get so much fulfillment from everything else. I like playing with it. I always have fun with it, but I try not to let it get sticky.

Well, one of my favorite social media posts in the past bit is the one with your kiddo singing “Tea Man.”

Oh, wasn’t that so sweet?

So sweet.

She’s 6.5 now. She was like 2.5 then. And I just was like, I can’t post this. It felt so…I don’t know…

Personal?

It was personal, but I didn’t have a problem with that. I definitely want to protect her, you know? But that’s not her anymore. She doesn’t even look like that. She’s like doubled since that song came out. But then I was like, “Oh, fuck yeah, I’m posting this!” There was no risk of seeing her in public and recognizing that she’s the girl from the video.

Are you a tea man? In real life?

I got a PG Tips tattoo. I really like tea. I drink enough tea to float a canoe every day.

Really? All caffeinated?

Usually. Well, when I’m on tour, yeah. I get so tired. I can’t really mess with coffee. It just makes me so jittery. But I can just drink tea all day.

Are you an equal opportunist, or is it mostly black tea?

Oh, I like it all. Really like it all, but I love the black stuff, though. I think it happened when I was on tour 10 years ago with Josh Hedley. We were in England somewhere on a train, and they came down the lane with a steaming cart and it was £1 for a cup of tea. I don’t have an addictive personality. I don’t care about alcohol or anything. But I felt like, “Oh, I’m in trouble.” Just sitting on a cold, rainy train going through England with a cup of PG Tips.

It reminded me of something I heard about Andy Warhol. Although I’m not a big fan, I don’t know much about the guy. But what I do know about him is that one thing that made me really like him. I heard that he doused his whole world in a certain scent for a season. For example, in the summer of ‘63, he would just cover everything with lavender oil. And then come winter, it would be a totally different scent. And you’d put lavender away, and it’d be bergamot. So then the sense memory of whatever happened around that time would be so strongly connected to that scent that you could be completely brought back. And I really love that.

I think there’s something to it with the tea thing, because that tour was really big for me. It was a fantastic time. It was a really, really wonderful, lovely tour, and drinking PG Tips like that, I just got into English culture too. Everywhere you go, somebody’s like, “Well, you want a cup of tea?” Like, yes, I fucking do. I decided I’m never turning down a cup of tea. And I never have since.

Tell me about writing “Hot Chicken Condos” with Jordan [Lehning] and Skylar [Wilson]. I deeply connect with that song because I also left Tennessee, and for many of the reasons you list in the song.

Yeah, that was the point. Everybody who really gets this place will really understand these things, even like Pit Bull puppies in parking lots.

And humidity.

Fucking unrelenting humidity.

Were those things you were storing? How did that song come about?

God, why I love writing with Jordan and Skyler is because they don’t bring any ego to the write. They don’t fucking care. They’re just such good vibes. I’m really pretty neurotic about writing and also I’m pretty protective of my words, too. When I get into the writing space, I’m just so sensitive about what’s being said. So if somebody says or suggests the wrong thing, I can quickly be like, “This is the wrong association.” I can be a little trigger-happy.

But with Jordan and Skylar, they’re always just like, “Just play what you got.” And they usually edit everything that I have. With that song, one of the lyrics was “Mustard in the corner of his tiny little mouth.” And Jordan said, “Why don’t you say, ‘Mustard cracking in the corner of his tiny little mouth?'” And it was perfect. Mark Twain said the difference between the right word and almost the right word was the difference between lightning and the lightning bug.

It’s so true.

I got to hang out with Guy Clark once in Nashville, and it was like one of the best moments of my Nashville career. I was going through really bad writer’s block. And I asked him, “Do you ever get stuck?” And he said, “Yeah… Do you ever write with other people?” And I told him, “I don’t like the idea of giving somebody 50% of the song just because they’re sitting in the same room.” He leaned over and he goes, “Well, you never would have fucking wrote it if they weren’t sitting there.”

I was like, “Damn, old man schooled me.” Because so much of writing, I feel like, is picking up on something else that’s happening. And who’s to say you don’t owe somebody credit just because they’re sitting there?

The other thing that Jordan suggested for [“Hot Chicken Condos”], which was so right on, was that he asked me how high I could go on the Tennessee part. I told him I could go falsetto, and he told me to try it. I hit it and he said, “That’s it.” He took an idea of a song and made it a song. I just so appreciate those guys.

I just feel it is like a pedal steel player who plays about eight notes per song. That’s the best player in town, ‘cause all the other players are nonstop. Same with fiddle. Take Josh Hedley. The guy just stands there most of the time, then he pulls out something incredible, and he sets it back down. He doesn’t overplay. If you don’t overwrite and you don’t overplay, those are heavy attributes.

Those are both things to do in service of the song, not in service of self.

Absolutely. You know who I saw last night was Erin Rae. Kevin Morby and I were standing next to each other, just like, ”Oh my god, she’s so good.” One of the most amazing things about her is that she underplays the guitar. She’s playing the whole time, but if you really focus on how much she is actually playing, it is barely. It’s just enough to fill in where she’s not singing and she works the mic so well.

All those things are so important, but nobody teaches them, you know? You have to kind of know it. It’s innate, right?

Or you got to learn it trial by fire. And you have to be playing with players who know what they are doing to learn that.

Yeah. That’s right. Sometimes people are technically good, but they just don’t stop noodling, and it sucks.

You took a long hiatus from music, huh?

I did. I took nine years between records. I didn’t mean to. And I didn’t actually think that I was doing it. I was playing shows here and there. I blame it on real estate. I got into real estate because my heart got broken from music so many times from wanting to do better. Wanting to succeed more. Really, really caring what people said and thought and comparing myself. All the things you really shouldn’t do ever in any aspect of life. I mean, if you did that in a relationship, then your therapist would be like, “That’s your problem. Stop. Don’t do that.”

I couldn’t get out of it. I just felt so bad about how it was going. And I know what I’m doing is not for everybody, and it’s not gonna take off. But I love what I do. I’m not putting myself down, but I just knew my ambition was a lot faster than everybody’s interests. It was just wearing on me and I needed to do something that’s purely about money and doesn’t have anything to do with creativity, because I’m just getting my feelings hurt. And I got polyps in my vocal cords. I was touring too much. It just wasn’t going well.

So I thought, “I’m just going to pivot. I’ll still do shows and if somebody asks me to do something, I’ll do it. I love music.” I stopped prioritizing writing. I stopped prioritizing recording, and then the pandemic happened, and I had a kid, and real estate took off, and I looked up, and it was 9 years. It really was like, “Oh, crap, how did that happen?” It shocked me.

What’s your writing process like typically? Do you write everywhere?

I write everywhere. I use my voice memos a lot. I really love just making up new country songs and fake country songs – like, really bad ones. I find that if I can get them out, I can expand upon them or delete them and move on.

I was writing with Skylar [Wilson] one time and we were trying to write a song called “Remember the Alimony?” We wrote for hours and hours and it was a stupid song and it didn’t go anywhere. It went, “I’m just a poor man. All I eat is beans and write checks to my ex, one and only. I rolled the dice, but I lost my wife. But I remember the alimony.” So stupid. God. But we were writing all day and just hanging out, and neither of us thought to finish it. It just didn’t work. But then I got home and I had like 6 other song ideas that went on Sweet Creep. It’s that muscle thing that everybody talks about.

I’m also a pleasure seeker to the nth degree. If things aren’t fun, I just drop them so quick. I’m really bad about that. So I just make sure that it’s really fun and get the idea out quickly. I try to stay hovering above it, just stay light. Because as soon as I dig into it, that’s when I’m like, “Oh, my God, right. I don’t know how to do this.” Just keep it fun and it will grow. But I like to write all the time, every day.

Do you wake up and do it?

It is in the shower, on the way to school, washing dishes. You know, when you have a great idea and no way to write it down.

Soapy hands! Sometimes it happens when there’s an absence of anything else and those ideas pop up.

I have to really protect myself when I’m diving in. I wash all the dishes, do all the laundry, sweep up a bit, and make sure no one is going to ask me for anything. I’m really self-conscious about that. If nobody is home, I’m going to the basement and putting on Ken Burns’ Civil War, and I turn the radio on at low levels where it is just kind of humming. I drink a tremendous amount of caffeine. That’s my favorite.

But it is intense. I can get really emotionally rocky after diving in pretty deep.

I was thinking about Roger Miller when you were talking about the “Alimony” song. I’m drawn to that kind of writing because you can get really dark while staying very light.

People think that the meat is deep, but the nerves are on the surface. There’s meat down there, but it’s dead. I feel like the most cutting and incredible songs kind of sound like an email to an old friend. My favorite Lucinda Williams songs all sound like they were written to a buddy.

Or she’s talking to somebody over tea.

So true. And John Prine, too. Everyone’s like, “How did they do it?” They just did it. They’re just talking.

Will you play any live shows with the woodwinds?

Yes, actually, April 14, we’re doing a free show at Zebulon. It’s going to be good. I have this giant golf ball, it’s like a concession stand, and I’m bringing that to the show. The whole point of it is to give away free tea. It’s my tea ball. The tea is free, just buy a house from me!

What will the live configuration look like? How many players will you have?

Four, but they play multiple winds. It’s the players on the record. They’re such pros. They’re all symphony kids.

There’s something about stripping it down to just woodwinds; it’s so cinematic. It takes you directly to the meat and it makes you lighter when it is time, as music does for film. It helps direct your emotional experience.

I like that. I’ve always loved demos of songs. Sometimes I just want to hear someone play the songs, not the record. Or just hear someone sing it. As close to the song as I can get, I’m most happy. I love a cappella stuff. Sometimes the most powerful way to arrange a song is to remove everything.

With winds, too, it’s nice because that’s pretty much it. There’s the vocal and then there’s some wind behind it. I love that.

At the top of my notes that I took while listening to the record, I have the words “jello rebirth” scribbled down regarding the song “Polished Turd.” Can you tell me more about that concept?

For this record, it was a bit of a cynical and fatalistic career thought, but I wanted to make a record of real estate songs. The whole idea behind it was that people would hear it and would say, “This sucks.” And my reply can be, “Yes. That’s what happens when you give up on your dreams.” Music really suffers when you just write about what you’re doing. It’s like this martyrdom thing.

You know the three D’s in real estate are like death, diapers, and divorce – all the things that make people sell their homes. So I wrote one that went, “Death, diapers, and divorce. And the lottery, of course.”

During the pandemic, I had this fantasy of buying someone an above-ground pool. Have you heard of rebirthing ceremonies?

No.

Oh, rebirthing ceremonies are a thing. A fucking thing. People simulate a mother’s vagina in like a mega fucked up Christian ceremony. They make you relive your birth so you can be reborn and let go of all your childhood traumas. They have a gelatinous vagina and people push themselves through it. So anyway, I got that in my mind and thought, “What the hell is this world?” But I could see that for real estate, like a used car salesman going, “We are doing rebirthing ceremonies, come on down!”

And I have always wanted to slide through the tsunami of an above-ground pool that gets sliced open.

Yeah, that does look fun.

Right, who hasn’t wanted to do that? But then I want to turn it into jello. And then I thought maybe I should do that for my clients or have a commercial about it. I could cut a slice in the pool with a katana sword, then they’d ride in slow motion through the incision of the above-ground pool, I could hand them the keys, and they’d be reborn into home ownership. Follow me?

Yep.

That is a song very near and dear to me, but it is a hard one to explain. What was your experience with it?

Well my first thought was that wherever it was coming from and whatever it meant, you have thought a lot about it.

Fair enough, that’s true.

Photo Credit: Bobbi Rich

12 Fantastic Merle Haggard Covers

Posted on by Justin Hiltner

April 6 would have been Merle Haggard’s 89th birthday – and was also the tenth anniversary of his death. So, before these anniversaries get too far in the rearview mirror, I wanted to take a moment to remember one of country music’s all-time legends – and one of the great singer-songwriters in all American popular music.

One lesson of Haggard’s career is that you best honor your musical heroes, not only by playing their records at home or talking up their influence in interviews, but by continuing to perform their songs – on stage and in the studio. Merle released tribute albums to Jimmie Rodgers, Bob Wills, and Elvis Presley, and across his catalog cut at least an album’s worth of Lefty Frizzell songs.

Since his death, it’s been nice to see how often Merle’s musical contemporaries and descendants have taken Haggard’s model to heart, recording his songs and even releasing entire Merle Haggard tribute albums.

In recognition of his ongoing legacy, I’ve chosen 12 of my favorite cover versions of songs by Merle Haggard. I shared a kind of companion piece to this list last week, at No Fences Review, pulling choices from the 20th century only. Now, for Good Country, I’m focusing my dozen picks on Hag covers from this century.

I could assemble similarly strong lists every week for months without running out of possibilities. But these dozen Hag covers are among the very favorites.

“You Don’t Have Far to Go” – Candi Staton (from His Hands, 2006)

Co-written with trucker-song specialist Red Simpson, “You Don’t Have Very Far to Go” was the earliest of Merle’s songs to have legs. Recorded more than a couple dozen times through the years (including three versions from Hag himself), it’s proven a special favorite of first-name-basis country women. Bonnie and Connie, Rosanne and Lucinda, and others all seem to sing the song directly to some toxic asshole: “If I’m not crying, you’re not satisfied.”

My favorite reading of the song in that way is by Candi Staton. She became renowned for her disco and gospel recordings, but when first establishing herself as an R&B star circa 1970, it was with striking country soul takes on hits by Tammy Wynette and Patsy Cline. Decades later, she deploys Merle’s old song to deliver a master class in soulful, thought-by-thought phrasing. Staton sounds fragile and beaten down yet, by the end, her tone hints she may finally have had enough.

“Hungry Eyes” – Leona Williams (from Leona Williams Sings Merle Haggard, 2008)

Leona Williams may be best known as Haggard’s third wife, but she’s a tremendous artist in her own right, a country music lifer who played bass behind Loretta Lynn in the 1960s, enjoyed a solo career worth tracking down, and wrote or co-wrote chart toppers “You Take Me for Granted” and “Someday When Things Are Good” for Merle in the early ‘80s.

Leona’s version of “Hungry Eyes,” from her superb 2008 Haggard tribute, always stops me in my tracks. In the verses, she sounds haunted by her parents’ long-ago struggles. At each chorus, she gulps and springs to the top of her range, once again meeting her mother’s dissatisfied gaze. “She only wanted things she really needed!”

“The Running Kind” – Marty Stuart & His Fabulous Superlatives (from The Marty Stuart Show, c. 2009 or 2010)

“The Running Kind” is both one of country music’s great declarations of independence and, for Haggard, a great self-own: Merle boasts that he’s always on the run from one thing or the other even though, “I know running’s not the answer” to anything. The sentiment can serve as a kind of thesis statement for the Hag’s own restless life and career, so it’s ironic that my favorite version of the song isn’t Merle’s but this live cut from Marty Stuart. From an episode of the singer’s television series, Stuart and his Superlatives rage noisily and headlong, while staying absolutely controlled, through Merle’s tune. The solos from Kenny Vaughan and Stuart are my idea of Telecaster heaven.

“Ramblin’ Fever” – Tanya Tucker (from My Turn, 2009)

My pick for the best-ever “Ramblin’ Fever” is this version by Tanya Tucker. Riding an outlaw thump spiked by country disco high-hat, Tucker honors a musical hero, a former paramour, and a kindred rambling spirit. To that end, she loves it when some good-lookin’ fella rubs her back, but what really turns her on comes in the a.m. when she can drink a cup of coffee before leaving. The series of guitar solos that play out the final 1:20 here sound like she’s already out the door.

“How Did You Find Me Here?” – k.d. lang (from Sweet Relief III: Pennies from Heaven, 2013)

“How Did You Find Me Here?” was among Merle’s finest new songs of this century. From 2010’s I Am What I Am, Merle sings the number like a grim but grateful gospel ballad – his savior has come for him in his grave. “Thank you, Lord,” he prays at the close.

k.d. lang’s spare, ethereal reading feels less straightforwardly religious but, if anything, more spiritual. She’s desperately alone, at her nadir, but now someone – a lover or friend, her sponsor or her community – has seen her for who she is, taken her in. Lang’s contralto sounds bleary-eyed and dumbfounded, but she gains strength as she goes, ready to move on up.

“I Think I’ll Just Stay Here and Drink” – Suzy Bogguss (from Lucky, 2014)

Back in 1989, one of Suzy Bogguss’ earliest charting singles was a cover of “Somewhere Between,” still my favorite version of that great Haggard ballad. So my expectations were unreasonably high for Lucky, a full-length Merle Haggard tribute that she released in 2014. But the album’s a gem straight through, and I especially recommend her take on “I Think I’ll Just Stay Here and Drink.”

Most versions of Merle’s boozy romantic complaint have been done by rowdy dudes who sound like they’re slamming shots while ordering their fourth pitcher ahead of passing out. Bogguss, by contrast, comes off country-jazz cool, sipping a good bourbon and commiserating with herself in some dark corner. Don’t wait up. She’s going to be here awhile.

“Shelly’s Winter Love” – Lonesome River Band (from Turn on a Dime, 2014)

Merle’s most haunting song is about depression: Shelly’s depression each winter, the narrator’s the rest of the year round when the sunshine’s lured her back to town. This Lonesome River Band rendition from 2014 is the most haunting I know. Brandon Rickman sings beautifully but frighteningly too, and LRB’s pacing, like seasonal affective disorder set to a melody, reflects the long, slow days of a long dark winter. Midway through, Sammy Shelor’s banjo plunks a drip, drip, drip, that quickly gathers to a stream. A thaw’s coming; spring is on the way. It won’t be long now…

“A Working Man Can’t Get Nowhere Today” – Rob Ickes & Trey Hensley (from Before the Sun Goes Down, 2015)

This was a savvy cover choice by Rob Ickes, 15-time winner of the IBMA’s Resophonic Guitar Player of the Year award, and Trey Hensley, the association’s pick for Guitar Player of the Year in 2023. For one thing, the song is an underappreciated gem of the Haggard songbook, recorded maybe not even half a dozen times since Merle had a hit with it in 1977. More importantly, this Hag number lets Ickes and Hensley trade elegantly exhausted solos while tapping into a perpetually frustrating and common condition: Working your ass off every day to to put food on the table yet still coming up short. Hensley moans, “I’ll still be deep in debt the day that I fall dead.”

“Some of Us Fly” – Bonnie “Prince” Billy (from Best Troubador, 2017)

Merle’s “Some of Us Fly” served as the concluding track to his underrated release Chicago Wind, from 2005, and featured a guest vocal from Toby Keith. Because both men had already experienced such heights in their career, the message of each chorus – “Some of us fly but all of us fall” – comes off a little like superstars performing their humility. But where Haggard and Keith share hard-won wisdom, Bonnie “Prince” Billy casts a spell. With his duet partner, Irish singer/flutist Nuala Kennedy, he surrenders to a mystery.

On the remarkable 2017 Haggard tribute album, Best Troubador, Billy (AKA indie songster Will Oldham) and Kennedy whisper their way through Merle’s song in cautious harmony, their hands clutched tightly. The whole performance feels so fragile a strong wind might blow it way.

“Today I Started Loving You Again” – Eli “Paperboy” Reed (from Down Every Road, 2022)

Eli Reed specializes in making over all manner of roots-adjacent material into cool, committed soul music. Down Every Road does that for the Haggard songbook with thrilling results straight through. (A duet between Eli and Sabine McCalla on Merle’s most covered song, “Today I Started Loving You Again,” was inspired by a famous, but officially unreleased, 1969 version by Buck Owens and soul singer Bettye Swann.)

I especially appreciate Reed’s take on Merle’s celebratory kiss-off “I’m Bringing Home Good News,” which he relocates from Merle’s dusty, country-rocking San Joaquin all the way down to Louisiana for some funky Tony Joe White-styled swamp.

“Workin’ Man Blues” – Willie Nelson (from Workin’ Man: Willie Sings Merle, 2025)

One of Hag’s signature hits, “Workin’ Man Blues,” is usually framed as a purely blue-collar anthem, but it’s good to remember he identified the song as a blues. Having to work to survive while hoping your body holds out as long as you’ll need it is something to be cursed more than celebrated.

From last year’s Workin’ Man: Willie Sings Merle, a 92-year-old Nelson delivers his friend’s lines with a bit of a slur, weary and resigned but also grateful still to be working, to be on the road again until he runs out of road. Similarly, Willie’s arrangement sheds Merle’s Elvis-y fanfare for some hard, use-it-or-lose-it swing. “Play it, little sister,” he says, introducing one of the hot-jazziest solos in the career of the late Family band pianist Bobbie Nelson. Willie’s solos up top and midway through, meanwhile, are things of singular beauty, guitar work that sounds like play but refuses to hide the callouses and the miles. “As long as my two hands are fit to use…”

“Daddy Tried” – Jade Jackson (single, 2026)

Merle’s “Mama Tried” has been covered well over 100 times since he wrote it for the Killers Three soundtrack in 1968. But the song’s indelible ascending chorus and its universal theme – Merle sings it as if he’s as proud of defying his mom as he is remorseful for disappointing her – have encouraged people to use the song in all kinds of ways. Country comic Don Bowman parodied it as “Pappa Tried” as early as 1969 and more recently Angeleena Presley was clearly in conversation with Merle’s classic when she released “Mama I Tried” in 2017. As was Keith Urban when he sampled its lick for “Coming Home” in 2023.

Jade Jackson grew up in a small Cali town between Bakersfield and the Pacific, and her updated, gender-flipped take on Merle’s tale sounds just like that: Her voice feels a little dusty and a little sunny. Switching out Merle’s locale from “prison” to “Nashville” is funny because those two aren’t at all alike, but also because maybe they’re a little alike. For sure the ache in her voice reveals her as another singer-songwriter in a long line of kindred spirits to Merle; she’s going to go her own way, no matter her dad’s good advice.

David Cantwell is the author of The Running Kind: Listening to Merle Haggard, the co-author of Heartaches by the Number: Country Music’s 500 Greatest Singles and the co-creator of No Fences Review. His byline has appeared at Rolling Stone Country, The New Yorker, Slate, and No Depression, among other publications.

Photo Credit: Workin’ Man: Willie Sings Merle on Legacy Recordings

You Gotta Hear This: New Music From Don Williams, Victoria Bailey, and More

Posted on by Justin Hiltner

This week it’s absolutely packed in our weekly roundup of new roots music! You Gotta Hear This…

From the Blue Ridge Mountains of Western North Carolina, the Asheville Mountain Boys kick us off with a new performance video for “Don’t Take Me Back Again.” It’s a track from their debut self-titled album, which was just released in February. It’s straight-ahead bluegrass that will transport you right back to their beautiful home turf in Southern Appalachia. Also in bluegrass, from just down the ridge from NC in Boiling Springs, South Carolina, husband-and-wife duo Benson (Wayne and Kristin Scott Benson) have a new single out today, “Maybe It’s You.” Featuring their friend Heath Williams on the lead vocal, it’s a clean and crisp example of modern bluegrass with traditional bones.

You’ll also get to hear a lovely bluegrass-gospel-western rendition of a Randy Travis cut, “He’s My Rock, My Sword, My Shield” below, brought to us by Southern California singer-songwriter and roots artist Victoria Bailey. She effortlessly combines bluegrass, classic country, country & western, and gospel with her version of the familiar tune. The loping, cowgirl feel is just perfect. Plus, impeccable fiddler and multi-instrumentalist Andy Leftwich has a new album out today, Aced. To celebrate, we’re sharing “Crossville” from that collection, a tune from the catalog of Ricky Skaggs – Leftwich’s former boss, who’s a friend and a mentor – that has a transatlantic and somewhat Celtic feel. It features Leftwich on both fiddle and mandolin.

From further territory on the roots genre map, Paula Boggs Band calls on both Blind Boys of Alabama and Valerie June as special guests on their recording of “Ain’t Gonna Let Nobody Turn Me ‘Round.” Soulful string band folk is a perfect backdrop for the languid, marching track – one that remains all too timely and applicable in 2026. Watch a new lyric video for the song below and join the sing-along party, and the struggle for justice, too. Don’t miss Serafima and the Shakedowns’ paean to Seattle, the Queen of the Pacific Northwest. “Shivers” is a chill and vibing Americana track with lush guitars backing gentle ruminations on friendship, community, and place. Whether you have or haven’t felt the “shivers” in a while, this song will be there for you when you do again.

Keep scrolling, as there’s more gold to find. For instance, Gregory Alan Isakov and Sylvan Esso released a track together earlier this week, “Fade Into You.” It’s a lovely cover song of the cult favorite ’80s and ’90s alt-rock band Mazzy Star. For a while, Isakov wasn’t sure the track was finished – that is, until he called upon Amelia Meath of Sylvan Esso to complete the number with her vocals. Like Isakov, we love how it turned out. Finally, a legend of country music returns, posthumously, with a new album on May 29. Don Williams passed away in 2017, but his powerful legacy lives on. We spoke to his son, Tim Williams, about the latest single from Epilogue: The Cellar Tapes, a collection of found recordings made by Don himself dating back to the ’70s. The new single is an alternate version of a favorite track, “I’m The One,” that puts a magical focus on Williams’ vocals. You won’t want to miss it.

So much to love and enjoy is waiting for you below – You Gotta Hear This!

The Asheville Mountain Boys, “Don’t Take Me Back Again”

Artist: The Asheville Mountain Boys
Hometown: Asheville, North Carolina
Song: “Don’t Take Me Back Again”
Album: The Asheville Mountain Boys
Release Date: February 12, 2026 (album)

In Their Words: “‘Don’t Take Me Back Again’ is an original song written by our guitar player, Marshall Brown, and is featured on our new self-titled LP. Marshall brought the song to the group about a year ago and we had so much fun working it up into an early ’50s-style bluegrass song. Zeb and I wrote exchanging mandolin and banjo riffs for the song instead of normal solos; we felt that was an homage to how early Jimmy Martin songs would have more melody-based riffs than conventional solos. We shot the video at Asheville Guitar Pedals in West Asheville as sort of a tongue in cheek reference to our motto: ‘No Plugs No Pedals Only Bluegrass.’ We loved working with Rebecca Jones (video) and Carter Giegerich (audio) on this in-person, fully live take of the song. “ – John Duncan

Track Credits:
Marshall Brown – Lead vocal, guitar
Jacob Brewer – Tenor vocal, bass
John Duncan – Banjo, baritone vocal
Zeb Gambill – Mandolin

Video Credit: Videography by Rebecca Branson Jones, audio by Carter Giegerich. 

Victoria Bailey, “He’s My Rock, My Sword, My Shield”

Artist: Victoria Bailey
Hometown: Huntington Beach, California
Song: “He’s My Rock, My Sword, My Shield”
Release Date: April 24, 2026

In Their Words: “My cover of this Randy’s Travis gospel song, ‘He’s My Rock, My Sword, My Shield,’ truly sets the tone for where I am in music and with my faith. It’s been a few years since my album release (A Cowgirl Rides On) and I continue to grow a deep love for bluegrass and gospel. It only made sense to go in and record one of my all-time favorites by Randy Travis before I dive into my next record.

“This song was recorded live in studio with my bluegrass band at Station House Studio in Los Angeles, produced by my good friend Brian Whelan. It was a sweet reunion being back in that room and to honor such a beautiful, spiritual song. I often describe my sound as ‘a little bit gospel, a little bit bluegrass, and everything in between.’ This next single is a perfect recipe of all those things and I’m looking forward to more of it this year!” – Victoria Bailey

Track Credits:
Victoria Bailey – Vocals
Brian Whelan – Producer, lead guitar, BGVs
Ted Russell Kamp – Bass
Luke Adams – Drums
Philip Glenn – Fiddle
Leeann Skoda – BGVs

Benson, “Maybe It’s You”

Artist: Benson
Hometown: Boiling Springs, South Carolina
Song: “Maybe It’s You”
Release Date: April 17, 2026
Label: Mountain Home Music Company

In Their Words: “We love the tried-and-true themes of classic bluegrass songs. Cabins, farms, and mountains were relevant to the writers then. In fact, if you can find a new song that is reminiscent of those standards, it’s a real find. I think ‘Maybe It’s You’ is a nice representation of a modern bluegrass song, lyrically. Troubled relationships are timeless, but this is a contemporary take on that same theme.” – Kristin Scott Benson

“Heath Williams sang lead on ‘Maybe It’s You’ and we are so lucky to work with him. He has been a huge part of many Benson songs, like ‘Oh Me of Little Faith’ and ‘Lay ‘Em Down.’ He’s not from a bluegrass background, but is perfectly suited for it and has a really fresh, special take. In fact, Terry Herd, one of the co-writers, specifically mentioned him because Terry thought his approach would be ideal. After years of going to church with Heath and playing with him on occasion, it’s a joy to be recording with him now.” – Wayne Benson

Track Credits:
Heath Williams – Lead vocal
Wayne Benson – Mandolin
Kristin Scott Benson – Banjo
Cody Kilby – Acoustic
Kevin McKinnon – Bass
Zack Arnold – Harmony vocals

Paula Boggs Band, “Ain’t Gonna Let Nobody Turn Me ‘Round”

Artist: Paula Boggs Band
Hometown: Seattle, Washington
Song: “Ain’t Gonna Let Nobody Turn Me ‘Round” featuring Blind Boys of Alabama and Valerie June
Album: Sumatra
Release Date: March 27, 2026 (album)
Label: Boggs Media LLC

In Their Words: “Our cover of the civil rights anthem, ‘Ain’t Gonna Let Nobody Turn Me ‘Round,’ feels more relevant today than when we recorded it. To highlight its American roots heritage, we incorporated bluegrass instruments like banjo and fiddle. The featured artists, Blind Boys of Alabama and Valerie June, further enhance the song’s messages of hope and determination. The lyric video grounds the song in present times.” – Paula Boggs

Track Credits:
Paula Boggs – Lead vocals
Tor Dietrichson – Percussion
Jacob Evans – Drums, percussion
Darren Loucas – Acoustic guitar, Dobro, banjo, ukulele
Paul Matthew Moore – Acoustic piano, percussion
David Salonen – Upright bass, fiddle
Blind Boys of Alabama (Ricky McKinnie, Sterling Glass, J.W. Smith, Joey Williams) – Co-lead vocals
Valerie June – Co-lead vocals

Gregory Alan Isakov and Sylvan Esso, “Fade Into You”

Artist: Gregory Alan Isakov and Sylvan Esso
Hometown: Gregory Alan Isakov: Born in Johannesburg, South Africa; grew up in Philadelphia, Pennsylvania. Sylvan Esso: Durham, North Carolina
Song: “Fade Into You”
Release Date: April 16, 2026
Label: Dualtone

In Their Words: “I grew up listening to Mazzy Star and sort of sketched this song out one afternoon. I had read an article about Hope Sandoval (the singer of Mazzy Star) the week before and there was this paragraph about how she played a few shows at the Sydney Opera House in almost complete darkness. Some of the crowd was super disgruntled about it and walked out. I remember thinking, ‘Wow, what a hero.’ I sat on the recording I made for a long time, thinking it wasn’t quite finished, and reached out to Amelia of Sylvan Esso. She has one of my favorite voices of all time. Once I heard her on it, it felt ready. I really love how it came out.” – Gregory Alan Isakov

Andy Leftwich, “Crossville”

Artist: Andy Leftwich
Hometown: Carthage, Tennessee
Song: “Crossville”
Album: Aced
Release Date: April 17, 2026
Label: Mountain Home Music Company

In Their Words: “One of the greatest joys of playing music with Ricky Skaggs was getting a chance to jam on his original instrumentals! They all have great melodies and are structured in a way that gives you an opportunity to stretch out and push yourself. This song is certainly that. Ricky has always inspired me with his creativity and heart behind each note that he plays and I always looked forward to playing this one with him each night! It’s one of my favorites! I thought I’d pay homage to my friend and former boss by recording one of his wonderful compositions, ‘Crossville.'” – Andy Leftwich

Track Credits:
Andy Leftwich – Fiddle, mandolin
Byron House – Upright bass
Cody Kilby – Acoustic guitar
Matt Menefee – Banjo

Serafima and the Shakedowns, “Shivers”

Artist: Serafima and The Shakedowns
Hometown: Seattle, Washington
Song: “Shivers”
Album: Ride Easy
Release Date: April 14, 2026 (single); May 1, 2026 (album)
Label: BWGiBWGAN

In Their Words: “‘Shivers’ is an ode to Seattle, Queen of the Pacific Northwest – a cloud-soaked rumination that finds the song’s lonely voice wondering, is there anyone out there? My friends have left the city and I’ve heard I’m supposed to have a guardian angel – but where is she? Maybe she’s hiding behind the marine layer.

“This is a song about the city I grew up in, missing all your friends that have moved far away, feeling like they lied to you about stuff like having a guardian angel, and wondering if heaven is a real place – either up there or down here.” – Serafima Healy

Track Credits:
Serafima Healy – Vocals, guitar
Sam Burrows – Guitar
Joe McPhee – Bass
Jules Tennyson – Drums
Finn O’Hea – Trumpet
Aaron Khawaja – Piano
Jay Kardong – Pedal steel

Video Credits: Hand animations by Serafima Healy.

Don Williams, “I’m The One (Alternate Version)”

Artist: Don Williams
Hometown: Nashville, Tennessee
Song: “I’m The One (Alternate Version)”
Album: Epilogue: The Cellar Tapes
Release Date: April 17, 2026 (single); May 29, 2026 (album)
Label: Craft Recordings

In Their Words: “I remember this song very well from when I was 13-14 years old. I always loved the song. Obviously, Daddy did too, or there would not have been strings on it. Strings are always about the last thing before mixing (sometimes percussion). When I realized that it was one of the songs on the tapes in the cellar, I was excited. I did, though, want to take a crack at stripping it down a bit or making a little more room for Dad’s vocal, which was my intention and the approach I took. The original version is definitely cool and pretty complicated, actually, but I wanted a version that would be a platform from which maybe there’d be a little more focus on the vocals.” – Tim Williams, son of Don Williams

Photo Credit: Don Williams by Jim McGuire via the Grand Ole Opry Archives; Victoria Bailey by Dylan Gordon.

Tenille Townes:
In Her Own Words

Posted on by Justin Hiltner

Editor’s Note: Earlier this month, we shared our exclusive Artist of the Month interview with Tenille Townes exploring the many factors and creative processes that brought about her excellent new album, The Acrobat.

That interview, with BGS contributor Alison Richter, included many more golden moments and special tidbits that ended up cut for length, so we’re excited to share portions of those edits here as a bonus follow-up to our feature conversation. Below, enjoy Townes’ insight, wisdom, and feelings about her songwriting methods, collaborating with Lori McKenna, trusting herself at the helm of her new album, and more.

And, continue exploring all of our Artist of the Month coverage of Tenille Townes – and our Essentials Playlist – right here, on Good Country and BGS.

Songwriting

I have a notes thing on my phone that I’m always picking at. I also have random voice notes in my phone from airplane windows. There’s something about the perspective of zooming out. I think about songs differently up there, so there’s plenty of voice memos of me singing into the window seat with the hum of the engine.

Songwriting is so interesting because it calls you to be present in the moment. When I’m more present, I notice songs around me anywhere. It’s the gift of paying attention. I push myself to keep working on that, striving to notice what’s happening around me and how I feel about it. That’s what inspires me to keep writing.

Working with Lori McKenna

I love Lori so much. Talk about somebody with lived experience, and also she has this way of completely disarming any sort of fear. Obviously she’s a legend. She’s a hero to me. She’s been that forever. When I first moved to Nashville, I saw her play a round at the Bluebird [Cafe] and I was like, “I want to write songs like that someday.” I dove into her whole catalog and learned so much from studying her work. There’s such vulnerability to her writing and there’s so much she isn’t afraid to say. She’s paved the way for so many writers. We’ve all learned from her.

I’ll never forget when we got to write for the first time. I was so nervous, but she made me feel at home and listened to and valued all the things. I had the best day. A lot of times people will say, “Be careful about meeting your heroes.” That could be the farthest thing from the truth about Lori. She’s over and beyond what you would expect. From that, we struck up a friendship and have gotten to write a ton of songs through the years.

She invited me to Boston and I got to spend a few days with her, writing in her music room. I loved every second of that trip. A lot of the songs on this record came from that time with the two of us together. She was always so encouraging about my work tapes. She was like, “You should really make a record of that someday.” So it’s full circle to me to have some of our songs together on this project.

It made sense to extend the invitation, in case she was up for singing on “the acrobat,” and she ever so graciously said yes. It was such a great experience getting to work on that with her. She starts singing as the fortune teller in the song. She enters around that line, which is such a timely entrance because she’s got this perspective of wisdom that comes from lived experience and from somebody who’s a complete master of the craft. I respect her so much, and I’m so glad to call her a friend.

The Work Tapes Were the Album

@tenilletownes anybody else feel this with me? This song is gonna be yours on Friday… thanks for pre-saving!! #newmusic #indiemusic #theacrobat #canadiancountrymusic #folkmusic ♬ original sound – Tenille Townes

I was maybe four or five songs in. Honestly, if I’d sat down at the beginning of it and gone, “I’m gonna produce a record,” I’m not sure I’d have ever started. I had so much fear and anxiety at that time – that plan never would have worked. But it’s like this record guided me along its way.

I got a few songs done and sent it to a producer friend I’ve worked with in the past. I was like, “This is something I’m excited about. Who should I get to mix this or would you want to maybe guide the rest?” He was like, “I don’t think you need anybody. You should see this through. This sounds wonderful. Just follow your gut and enjoy the ride.” That was so encouraging to hear in that pivotal moment. I kept going and I really enjoyed the process beyond that point.

I think I’m hardwired … in my family system and everything I was always the peacekeeper, and it’s in my nature to make sure everybody else is okay. It was really strengthening to not have to check on anybody else in this process and to trust my own compass again. I’m glad I gave myself permission to do that, but it was never the initial plan.

The Challenges of Self-Producing

Once I decided I was doing it, I had reached the part in my healing, my mental health journey, where I was starting to recognize that the imperfections of this project were actually where the magic was. I think the music guiding me [toward] that was a little bit of a spiritual letting go. That’s the practice.

One of the themes in this record is letting go. Even making it was a practice of that and going, “I could do that fifty more times and get it perfect, or I could accept that I think it sounds beautiful and human just like that,” and that’s what I did.

“she plays the piano”

This song is so special to me and it’s been a special one to me for years. I wrote it with Lori McKenna, Alex Stacey, and Amy Wadge over Zoom during the pandemic. I remember finishing it and going, “This song is so special. I don’t know when its moment is going to be,” because it wasn’t quite in the vibe of what I was releasing at that time. But I knew the song would tell me when it was time and I’m so glad the time is now.

The idea came from visiting my great-grandmother at her nursing home. She was there for close to 10 years and was on the Alzheimer’s and dementia ward. It was so tough, especially watching my grandmother. She went all the time, and watching her with her mom in that space was devastating. The fact that she didn’t recognize any of us or know where she was, that she was always time traveling, that was heartbreaking to have a front row seat to.

We went to visit and have lunch one day and there was this woman, this other patient, in the cafeteria. They had a keyboard, and at lunchtime she would sit and play this polka over and over. This sweet woman couldn’t tell us her name, she had no idea where she was, but she could play that polka like nobody’s business. She’d play the song and then glance around her shoulder and wait for us to clap. We’d cheer every time. It was like she played Carnegie Hall or something. We would applaud her and then she’d turn and face the piano and start the song over again.

I sat there, as a teenager, thinking how music can remember who we are even more than our mind can sometimes. That’s such a powerful thing. I’ll never forget witnessing that. I’ve wanted to write that song for a lot of years, so I’m glad it’s a part of this project. I think of that sweet woman and my great-grandmother every time I play it.

Want more? Dive into our Artist of the Month coverage of Tenille Townes here.

Photo Credit: Robert Chavers

Basic Folk: Dawes

Posted on by Justin Hiltner

We are so excited to kick off our Interviews at Sea series with DAWES! We had the chance to talk to brothers Taylor and Griffin Goldsmith aboard Cayamo: A Journey Through Song in front of a packed audience during the music cruise’s 18th voyage in March 2026. The guys have been performing as Dawes since 2009, but the band has been a duo since their 2024 album, Oh Brother.

The Goldsmiths have been singing and playing together their whole lives inspired by their musician father, Lenny Goldsmith, who toured as the lead singer of Tower of Power in the 1980s. Taylor was never told it was hard to play guitar or sing, so he just did it. He always knew he wanted to be a professional musician. We talk about the ways his musical career turned out as not quite what he had expected. We also touch on how their singing has evolved over the course of their lives together.

Both Taylor and Griff are fathers, so of course we asked about the freedom that comes with priorities changing in their lives and careers – as well as what toys they may have regretted ever letting their kids have.

LISTEN: APPLE • SPOTIFY • AMAZON • MP3

One thing following Dawes around for the past year is the aftermath of the January 2025 Eaton Fire in Los Angeles. Both brothers and their parents suffered immense loss due to the flames sweeping through Altadena, California, destroying thousands of homes and causing over 30 deaths. Griffin’s son was born two weeks after the fire, a month early. Dawes became the musical face of the disaster with an emotional performance on Jimmy Kimmel Live! and opening the GRAMMYs with Randy Newman’s “I Love LA” with a veritable supergroup: Sheryl Crow, Brad Paisley, Brittany Howard, St. Vincent, and John Legend. The brothers get into what the experience taught them about healing and reaching a place where this tragedy does not define them. We hear a bit about Taylor’s love of collecting first editions and his fear of the comment section and we wrap up with a fun “Which One?” lightning round. Thanks to Dawes!

Photo Credit: Joel W. Parks

Check Out Lucinda’s, a Bustlin’ NYC Honky Tonk

Posted on by Justin Hiltner

(Editor’s Note: Enjoy our tour of New York City honky-tonk, juke joint, and cocktail lounge Lucinda’s as a special postlogue to our Artist of the Month coverage of Lucinda Williams during March 2026.)

It’s the first springtime Sunday in Manhattan and after a bitter winter, the East Village is humming with human activity. Around the corner from the throng of Tompkins Square Park, where Girl Scouts hawk cookies and roller hockey players clatter their sticks and skates, tumbles of acoustic guitar spill from a storefront, attracting curious passers-by. Some folks pause and lean toward the open windows, and a few cross the threshold to meet wafts of fresh popcorn. Welcome to Lucinda’s.

The bar’s tin ceiling interior is catnip to music history aficionados and Americana-kitsch collectors alike, the walls hung with poster prints, vintage memorabilia, and velvet paintings (among them Kitty Wells, Robert Johnson, and Elvis Presley shaking hands with Jesus Christ). There’s a jukebox ready to sling beloved feels-good-to-feel-bad hits, and peanut figurines with Jimmy Carter grinning and holding court over the liquor. These accoutrements all play second fiddle to the spot’s main attraction: live music meant for casual socializing every day of the week.

This robust programming – along with some of the bar’s most prized decorative items – is the work of Kelley Swindall, a musician and New Yorker of 20 years who grew up in Stone Mountain, Georgia. She takes pride in a large round aluminum Coca-Cola sign, an item on “permanent loan” from her family and one of several wall-hung nods to Georgia’s most lucrative liquid export. She’s more proud of filling a void in New York City nightlife. “There’s a lot of Southern people in the city that went to SEC schools that want to have some Southern culture again, like college football, or listening to music that they love and don’t normally hear in New York,” Swindall says.

Though the city has a handful of country-themed, sometimes Western-leaning bars – Williamsburg’s hootin-hollerin Skinny Dennis, the self-explanatory Honky Tonkin’ in Queens, the West Village’s Tex-Mex-y Cowgirl – Swindall wanted to develop a place to celebrate the early country, blues, folk, and other vernacular music that shaped generations of American song. She yearned for the sort of places she knew growing up and got to know as a touring musician, rooms where casual live music fosters socializing instead of hampering it. “That’s what the juke joints and honky-tonks were back in the day – it was live music as the soundtrack of the evening, but you were hanging out, drinking, dancing, and socializing,” Swindall says.

Swindall found a business partner in Laura McCarthy, who has a storied history of her own at 169 Avenue A running prior venues Brownies and Coney Island Baby. The pair found a namesake and patron saint of sorts in Lucinda Williams, with whom they connected through mutual friends. Williams agreed to endorse the place, her multi-stranded artistry anchoring the team’s vision for honoring the deep musical roots of the American South. She christened the stage with a set as part of the bar’s opening-night festivities last July.

On a Saturday night, Lucinda’s is rollicking, packed front to back with revelers before some New Yorkers have even gone to dinner. There’s college basketball on one TV, and The Best Little Whorehouse in Texas on the other. I want to mill around and make conversation, but the bar is thick with boisterous, overlapping shouts converging with mid-1990s Tim McGraw and Shania Twain songs that radiate in my bones.

The mission of Lucinda’s is evidently working. With my elbows pinned to my sides, I chat with Emily from Texas and two girls who rolled up for one of several birthday gatherings in progress. After his friend paws at my unattended leftover garlic knots, Gavin, an Irish ex-pat and country music fan, tells me it’s his first time at Lucinda’s after hearing about it on TikTok. “We were in the neighborhood, and we wanted to come in. We already had plans somewhere else, and we made it our business to come back here,” he says, enthralled with the room’s unique decor. I don’t get a chance to ask his thoughts on the Dolly Parton or Johnny Cash bathrooms before he peels off with drinks in each hand.

Spirits are high, but by Lucinda’s standards, the fun has barely started: a few musicians are shouldering their way through to the corner stage. Nightly music programming is a staple at Lucinda’s, which Swindall accomplishes with standing residencies and open mics alongside other ticketed events. There’s a loose structure week to week; weekends are for the big sing-along bands, Sunday evenings are for classic country, and bluegrass and some old-time are on Tuesdays. “I was an artist first, and I still am, so I wanted to focus on the kind of music that I’m into,” Swindall says, adding that Thursday night is for two-stepping.

The Sunday open mics are a binding force to Lucinda’s operating concepts. Sign-ups start at 1 p.m. every Sunday, running through the afternoon until another outfit takes the stage for the evening. There are some gentle guidelines (no covers, no backing tracks), aimed toward bringing a pleasant and equitable atmosphere to the gatherings. Swindall prioritizes the artists’ experiences at these weekly forays, remembering open mics as essential to her relationship-building and development as a young musician.

“It’s more important to have people able to come in and play their songs, everyone listen, rather than have a thriving bar culture that day,” she says. Drawing further on her artist’s perspective, Swindall fosters the open mic knowing the challenges of getting a foothold in bigger booking circuits. “A lot of places, they don’t want to book you unless you can bring a crowd or you can show them live footage. It’s really great to give people an avenue to get comfortable on stage and get feedback for their songs,” Swindall says.

Moreover, the shindigs help Swindall expand her pool for her month-to-month bookings, strengthening the network of relationships that are essential to the arts-forward community that McCarthy and Swindall hope to nourish.

Almost a full year in, Swindall is eyeing a steady growth pattern. She worked her way up to music every night of the week and now sometimes has two shows a night; she’s starting to entertain ideas for a small festival. “From a bar point of view, there’s so much to do,” she says.

The space isn’t zoned for a kitchen, but Swindall wants to figure out some kind of food element; in the meantime, patrons can bring in takeout or ask a bartender nicely for a Moon Pie, a bag of Zapp’s chips, or a bowl of popcorn. Swindall will stay busy as she aims to make Lucinda’s even more of a place for the “all” in “y’all.”

Stop in, sit down, shake loose. Connect with a song, or maybe a stranger.

All photos by BGS Staff.

Explore our Artist of the Month coverage of Lucinda Williams here.

The Other 22 Hours: Derek Trucks

Posted on by Justin Hiltner

What happens to the creative spirit when you have been a professional “lifer” since the age of nine? Derek Trucks, widely considered one of the greatest guitarists of all time and a veteran of the Allman Brothers Band and Eric Clapton’s touring lineup, joins the Other 22 Hours to discuss longevity and leading a 12-piece musical circus. with his Tedeschi Trucks Band co-founder and wife, Susan Tedeschi. We explore the gradual shift from student to teacher, the grounding force of a musical marriage, and the essential practice of “turning the crops” to stay inspired.

LISTEN: APPLE • SPOTIFY • AMAZON • MP3

In This Episode:

– Tedeschi Trucks Band
– Allman Brothers Band
– The Beacon Theater
– Eric Clapton
– Kofi Burbridge
– John Lee Hooker
– Koko Taylor
– Ace Moreland
– Colonel Bruce Hampton
– Buddy Guy
– Joe Walsh
– Gregg Allman
– Jim Scott
– Tom Dowd
– A Love Supreme
– Krishnamurti
– Mad Dogs & Englishman (movie)

Go Deeper:

Watch: View this entire conversation above or on YouTube.
Explore: Find similar conversations in these themed playlists.
Connect: Join the conversation on Instagram.

The Other 22 Hours is hosted by Aaron Shafer-Haiss (producer, mixer, musician) and Michaela Anne (songwriter, artist, creative coach). More about Aaron’s work. More about Michaela Anne’s work.

Produced by Aaron Shafer-Haiss. Original music written, performed and produced by Aaron Shafer-Haiss.

Photo Credit: Chapman Baehler

Melissa Etheridge: Rock and Roll and Resilience

Posted on by Justin Hiltner

Few people have experienced the highs and lows of the music business to the degree that Melissa Etheridge has. Since releasing her self-titled debut in 1988, she has won two GRAMMYs (and been nominated for many others); been hailed as the second coming of Janis Joplin; won the Gibson Award for Best Female Rock Guitarist; become a mom several times over; been a social activist both for the LGBTQ+ community and for people addicted to opioids; written a memoir; and performed a one woman show on Broadway. Not bad for a kid from Leavenworth, Kansas.

That said, Etheridge has also suffered more than her share of setbacks. She has weathered a couple of high-profile divorces, battled breast cancer – who can forget her duet with Joss Stone at the 2005 GRAMMYs when she took the stage bald after undergoing chemotherapy – and, in 2020, lost her son Beckett to addiction.

The one constant throughout all these ups and downs has been her music, a brand of heartland rock that manages to be personal and universal at the same time. Etheridge is nearly as popular with blue-collar men as she is with lesbians, owing to her raspy vocals, formidable guitar chops, and unpretentious persona. And she’s racked up an impressive list of hits over the years including “Come To My Window,” “If I Wanted To,” “Ain’t It Heavy,” “Similar Features,” “I Want To Come Over,” “Bring Me Some Water,” and “I’m the Only One.”

2026 is shaping up to be a big year for Etheridge. She returned on March 27 with Rise, her first studio album in five years. On the eve of its release, she and her band kicked off a six-week tour in Detroit. And for the first time, Etheridge was nominated for induction into the Rock & Roll Hall of Fame this year.

Rise was recorded in Los Angeles with co-producer Shooter Jennings and includes 11 songs. While they’re diverse musically, the album as a whole feels like a complete statement. It’s a testimony to resilience, to sticking with life through all its ups and downs.

The title track and “Bein’ Alive” (which opens the disc) are both life-affirming rockers. “The Other Side of Blue” is a contemplative duet with Chris Stapleton. The playful “If You Ever Leave Me” puts an Americana spin on Mental As Anything’s ‘80s hit, “If You Leave Me (Can I Come Too).”

The shuffling, midtempo “Matches” was inspired by Johnny Cash’s 1970 concert at the U.S. penitentiary in Etheridge’s hometown. But the two final songs on Rise are also its most personal and poignant. “Call You” is a moving tribute to her son Beckett, while “More Love” was written for her daughter Bailey when she got engaged.

BGS recently had the pleasure of catching up with Melissa Etheridge for a Cover Story interview.

Let’s start with Rise. This is your first new album in five years, which is a significant amount of time. But you’ve been very busy in the last five years; I read your book and saw your show on Broadway. So it’s not like you’ve been sitting around! What do you get out of recording an album that you might not get from doing theater or writing a book?

Melissa Etheridge: Even though I haven’t had an album out in five years, the [last] album I put out, One Way Out, was a previous recording that I’d done seven years before that. So it’s really nine years since I’ve written. And I’ve lived so much of life – from loss to the pandemic to just growth. That’s the part about making a record. I knew that I could create a collection of songs that would make an album.

I love the art form of an album. You know, 45 minutes to be with the listener and take them through an emotional journey. That’s my favorite part; the real crafting of it was the writing. And it was about a year’s worth of pulling things together and then writing [in] December of ’24 and January and February. Then going in the studio [last] March. Going in, it’s so much fun with the road band that I have. It’s like putting on a favorite pair of jeans. Then getting Shooter Jennings to produce it! His studio, Sunset Sound, is so amazing. So it was a pleasure recording there.

It really does flow as an album, but it touches on a lot of different moods. Listening to it as one piece, I felt a sense of renewal and also resilience.

Yeah, that’s something I wanted to get across. There’s so much I experienced through the loss of my son five years ago. That’s about the most devastating thing you can go through. Having gone through that loss, [I] decided that I wasn’t going to drown myself in guilt and shame, I wasn’t going to die – that I was going to experience this, heal with my family, keep loving ourselves, knowing that everyone makes their own choices. I could not save him, he had to make the choices for that. And then making art from that – you know, loving yourself enough to be able to say, “God, I love being alive.”

Writing those songs – especially in this day and age when I find such negativity – if you start believing that, then that’s what you’re gonna see. So I wanted to put [out] positivity without being patronizing or [using] platitudes. You know, lifting people up. Going, “Yeah, you’re gonna fall sometimes. You’re gonna taste the dirt. You’re gonna rise.”

[“Rise”] came after the LA fires. That was something I went through with my family. We had to evacuate. It came right up to our neighborhood. I gotta tell you, LA firefighters are heroes. Every single one of ‘em. They were able to keep it from our neighborhood. But there was a moment, when we were watching the fire reports, where it was like, “Okay. There’s a good possibility that we might lose everything.” I was in a hotel with people who were losing everything. To experience that and then say, “They’re just things. We’ve got our health, our family, our pets.” You know, you’re gonna still rise. There are gonna be these things that knock you down, but man! You’re gonna be stronger and better for it. It’s hard to hear but it’s so true.

I was gonna ask you why “Rise” was the title track but you kind of just told me!

The second to last song on the album is “Call You,” which is really moving and I know you wrote about your son. I don’t have children, but two months ago I lost two of my best friends, one to suicide and one to early onset Alzheimer’s. So I’ve been struggling the last couple of months with a lot of existential stuff and wanting to call my friend Mark – and I can’t. So that song really resonated with me. I guess I wanted to share that with you.

Yeah. Life is full of loss. It really is. You’re not living if you don’t have some loss. And the older you get, the more you’re gonna see it. That’s when the existential stuff [comes in]. I am more than just my body, I am a separate soul here experiencing it. The greater part of me is that non-physical place that I’m connected to – that source that everyone is [connected to].

In “Call You,” I tried to simplify that. Because to me, the times when I miss him the most are the times when it’s like, “I wanna call you!” Even my father who died 30 years ago, you know? When I was nominated for the Rock Hall, I was like “Oh, I just wanna call my dad!”

[“Call You”] was actually the first song I wrote for the album. I knew I had to get that emotional experience down. I had to write that song first.

I also wanted to ask you about “Matches.” When I spoke to you last, you told me about Johnny Cash playing in Kansas when you were just a kid and how one of your thoughts was, “Prisons must be the place where you find entertainers.”

[Melissa laughs]

Tell me more about that and maybe your thoughts about The Man in Black.

Well, growing up in a small town, Leavenworth, we have no places for big artists. Kansas City is 45 minutes away. But our town, in the ‘60s, that just wasn’t a thing. All of a sudden, in 1969, he came to the prison. He came to our town! “Oh my god!” Someone who I’d only seen on his television show or [heard] on the radio and was such a cultural icon – he’s in the same space as me! That really kind of said to me, “Whoa. Maybe I could do that.” It felt close to me. [Cash] always made a big impression on me. I always loved his music, his individuality.

“Matches” was supposed to be a scratch pad song for me. I had just come from the I’m Not Broken [docuseries]. I did a concert in 2023 at the Kansas Women’s Penitentiary. So I was still sort of playing off of that and singing. Scratch songs for me are songs [where] I’m writing for fun and it starts the juices flowing. I kept writing these verses and I played a little bit for my wife, [Linda]. And she said, “You have to put that on! What do you mean that’s a scratch song?”

Can you tell me some wonderful things about Linda?

[Laughs] Yes, I can! That’s easy. For 12 years we’ve been married. We were together four years before that. And before that, we were best friends for 10 years! I married my best friend.

She is… everything I needed or wanted or dreamt about. The only way you really get someone like that in your life is to understand your needs and wants. And to have the love for yourself that you are looking for in other people. The minute I really got in contact with myself and understood what I wanted and loved, I was able to see the best kind of love for me. And she was it.

There’s just a constant partnership that is astounding – a love and desire that never goes away. And it’s because I’m not looking for her to fix me or make everything great. I’m looking for her to be by my side as we both make our choices and walk through this world together.

Tell me a little about “The Other Side of Blue” and what it was like duetting with Chris Stapleton.

Ah! Chris Stapleton is just a national treasure. His soul and his talent and his mind and his heart are so beautiful and so rare. He’s such a unique talent and an incredible man.

I really didn’t know him at all, I just was a big fan. And I didn’t really want to do a duet on this album. But I remember telling my manager, “If I ever did do a duet, I would love it to be with Chris Stapleton. Maybe ask him if he wants to write a song together.” So my manager sent out the request. He said yeah, and that made me so happy. I went down and we wrote the song.

We were writing in RCA Studio A in Nashville, which is where Chet Atkins [recorded]. A massive, huge, historic studio! I just walked in and, “Hello, hello.” We sat down and had guitars in hand. We were just talking and five minutes go by and he asked me about my kids. I said, “Well, I had four but I lost one.” He said, “Oh, I’m sorry.” And I said, “No, no. He was my greatest teacher.” He looked at me and he goes, “You talk in song.”

That was the first line: “Sometimes, I listen when she talks in song.” We were writing within 15 minutes of showing up. It just appeared – every line. It took us maybe an hour and a half to write that song.

You mentioned being nominated for the Rock Hall. Tell me how that feels after all this time.

Well, I was eligible for about 12 years. [Laughs] I was like, “Don’t think about it! It’s not a comment on your music.” I didn’t make my music so that I would be in the Rock & Roll Hall of Fame, that’s not what it’s about. It is lovely and feels really good to be recognized by your peers – by a group of people in the music business who say, “Your contribution to rock and roll has meant something.”

I’ve been on the voting body for exactly 10 years now. Obviously, certain things are subjective, but I thought this year there were a lot of good nominees. More diverse than last year’s group.

Yeah, I love Sade. I love Pink. Lauryn Hill I think is a good one. And then Iron Maiden, come on! It’s time, guys!

I always like to ask you about one older song. My favorite, which I’ve already asked you about, is “Ain’t It Heavy.” Is it okay to ask you about one of the really popular ones? I try not to ask the same things everyone asks. But I am curious about “Bring Me Some Water.”

Oh, that’s good! At least it wasn’t “Come To My Window.” No, “Bring Me Some Water” – that’s fun, that’s an older song.

I’d been playing women’s bars in Los Angeles for five years and a lot of record companies came and turned me down. But Chris Blackwell [finally] comes in and signs me right on the spot, for Island Records. Bam! I’d never made a record and I had no idea [what to do]. So my manager gets this producer, Jim Gaines, from San Francisco. This is 1986. It’s the middle of the ‘80s sound – that sort of Steve Miller, Journey [thing]. We made this record and I play it for Chris Blackwell and he hates it! Because it doesn’t sound like the girl he saw at the bar. It sounds overblown – lots and lots of keyboards and my voice way at the top. He hates it and I’m like, “Oh my God, he hates my album.”

I convinced him to give me four days to try it again in the studio. But in between the time that I finished the first album and went into record again – which became the debut – I wrote “Bring Me Some Water” about this relationship I had with a lovely woman named Kathleen. We lived together and we had this open relationship – which is just a mindfuck! [Laughs] I wouldn’t advise anyone to do that.

This is her being gone and me sitting at home in the middle of September, in Los Angeles. I’m living on Melrose and it’s hot. It’s so hot! So I sit down and I’m like, “Okay. I gotta get back to traditional blues stuff.” I’m just playing [the riff], it’s old Muddy Waters but it’s speeded up. I’m singing about, you know, the foul air. I’m just hot and uncomfortable and I’m mad. So, I wrote this song and Chris Blackwell loved it.

Photo Credit: Candice Lawler

The Band of Heathens Leave Nothing on the Table

Posted on by Justin Hiltner

Don’t be fooled by their name, as the Band of Heathens actually give us something to believe in.

Coinciding with their 20th anniversary as a band, their new project Country Sides is equally feel-good and philosophical. The band’s co-founders and songwriters Gordy Quist and Ed Jurdi called in to Good Country from their homes in Austin and Asheville, respectively, to talk through their inspirations for the album, their writing (and rewriting) process, and how banjo fits into their house of music.

Just a few weeks after our visit, Country Sides and the single “Take the Cake” topped the Americana Music Association’s album and singles airplay charts simultaneously, a new feat for the well-established group.

“We have been really fortunate as an independent band,” Quist says. “We’ve never been on a label or been a part of the machine, and we just have a lot of gratitude for the 20 years we’ve had together as a band.

“This record is like a message of gratitude for all that we do have. And as much as we love making records, the live show is certainly my favorite part of this career. That’s what’s special about this band. When we get on stage, I feel lucky to be a part of this thing that really is fun live, so I would encourage people to check out a live show if you haven’t done it.”

As I was listening to the album, I was picking up a lot of messages of encouragement. It feels like a positive record to me. Is that a fair statement, do you think?

Ed Jurdi: Yeah, I think so. It’s like the musical retrospective of the band, in a way, sort of our history as an entity. Maybe in the background, with the realization that we’re making it 20 years at this point, there’s a little bit of a celebratory nature. I don’t know about Gordy, but in my writing process, I tend to almost have the opposite reaction to everything going on around me, outside in the world. If everything’s really negative, and the messaging is really negative, and there’s a lack of hope – maybe it’s a form of escapism for me, but I tend to lean into that [opposite reaction] a little bit more in my messaging.

And insofar as sharing music with people, it’s almost like the internal pep talk that I’m having with myself turns itself into the art and into the lyrics and something to share as a message with other people. We’ve never really been ones for beating people over the head with the message, but things are pretty wild and wooly – and not in a good way out there, in a lot of ways. So, I think some messages of community and togetherness and rallying around a common good – we could certainly use more of that.

Did you have a certain sound in mind as you made this record?

Gordy Quist: I think we talked about trying to make a country soul record. We were listening to some of the early Dobie Gray records and thought, “OK, what if we took a mix of soul music and country music melodies and textured it…” We put more pedal steel on this record than we probably ever have on any record. And that was intentional. From the beginning we knew we wanted to do that. I guess it was intentional to try to make a country soul record. Whether we did that or not, I’m not sure. But that’s how we arrived at whatever we did.

I like the spirit of fellowship in the song “High on Our Own Supply” and there’s a lyric in there about hearing the banjo playing soft and slow, like a stereo. This being the Bluegrass Situation (and Good Country), I’m curious, do you often reach for the banjo?

EJ: I do. I’m a terrible banjo player. You know, my buddy Graham Sharp in Steep Canyon Rangers is an amazing banjo player. So if I need a banjo on a record, I’d probably call him.

I think writing “High on Our Own Supply,” it was almost like we’re building a house of music. You know, if you were to go into any room in that house, there might be this different scene going on. You open the door and there’s someone in there playing the banjo, and it’s so good, it sounds like it’s just coming out of the stereo.

The song “Pleasing People” reminded me of soul music from the ‘70s and I wondered about that soul influence. How does that show up in your music?

GQ: I guess there’s two elements. I think the rhythm section is the foundation of soul music and the groove. That was something on this record we really tried to dig into. The band right now – Clint Simmons on the drums and Nick Jay on bass – are a deep and heavy rhythm section, so that lends itself to a style of American roots music that leans into soul music. But also, simplicity. Lyrics that sound conversational and simple but have some depth to them. It’s hard to do that well. That’s part of what makes soul music great – that it’s simple but it’s good.

It takes skill to make it look easy or sound simple. What’s your editing process and your rewriting process like for you?

EJ: It never really ends. Even after we record these songs, I definitely change lyrics to songs as we play them live. The cool thing about these songs, especially making a recording, it’s a snapshot in time. But songs, I think of all the artistic mediums, they kind of move with you through time in a really special way. What a song means to you at 16 can mean something completely different to you at 40. You’ve piled up life experiences and you view the world in a little bit of a different way. So that’s always fun, but editing is constant.

I would say Gordy and I both are doing a lot of lyrical editing and we’re doing a lot of musical editing, too. When we get together and make records, it looks something like Tuesday morning, 10 o’clock: “Hey, Gordy, what do you got?” You know, Gordy grabs an acoustic guitar, sits in the middle of the room… And I’ve [already] heard these songs we’ve worked on, the two of us, but that’s the first time that Trevor Nealon (our keyboard player) and Nick and Clint have heard the songs.

So it’s like, “Hey, OK, first impressions? Go!” and then we start filling the canvas up, taking stuff away, adding stuff, changing colors, all these different things, until we’re at a point where we feel like we’ve edited something down to a nice, presentable format. So, it’s a work in progress, always. To your point, the more you can tolerate the editing, the better things become. It certainly is the most challenging part of the job, but it can also be the most rewarding.

“Take the Cake” has a great vibe. I’m sort of a workaholic, so it’s a nice message to hear, to hit pause and go do something fun. What were you hoping to convey in that song?

GQ: I think I was playing with the idea of giving versus taking, in life. I’ve been working on that song and editing that song for a couple of years actually. I’ve had it for a while. You know, there’s a weird juxtaposition of giving and taking. If you are always taking, in theory you should have lots of things because you’re receiving them. But in reality, you usually end up empty, whether it be friendships or whatever.

The opposite is true also. If you’re always giving and generosity leads, in theory the fear side of you thinks you’re going to run out of stuff. But the opposite actually is true. And that’s kind of what I was playing with, just the idea of letting go of that consumerism or just the [mentality of] “I need to keep what’s mine.” And being cool with letting go of that and letting generosity be the leading force.

As you mentioned earlier, this album is like a 20th anniversary celebration of the band. Are you enjoying this period of your life? You still have a lot of years ahead, but you’ve got 20 years of experience behind you too.

EJ: Yeah, I think it’s a good vantage point. I’ve heard Gordy describe it as standing at almost the peak of a hill. We’re all dads, so we can look down and look at our kids and remember being their age. Looking the other way on the hill, we see our parents, and we remember our grandparents being that age. So, it’s kind of a trip to be in this middle age of life. We still have the energy of young people. I think the fire is still there. There’s no lack of commitment or of energy or passion to what we’re doing. But we’ve assimilated a little bit more wisdom, and we have a few more tricks up our sleeve, a few more shortcuts. It’s fun exploring those things and trying to share them with people.

GQ: Talking about this phase of life that we’re in, I have this feeling like, when we were young, making our first records, we would put everything into it and the goal always was, “I hope this is good enough that we get to keep making records and make another record.” At the end of every record we’ve made I felt like, “Man, that’s the best thing we’ve ever done and I don’t know how we’re ever going to top that.” Whether it is truly the best thing we’ve ever done or not each time, that’s not for us to decide, but it feels that way to us.

EJ: We’ve always left nothing on the table when we’ve made a record. Now we’re just a little bit more conscious of our surroundings and what our intentions are. Again, I don’t think there’s ever been a lack of effort, but now there’s maybe a realization like, “Hey, every time we get on stage, every time we sing, every time we make a record, it might be the last time we do, so let’s make sure we’re doing it with everything we got. Let’s leave it all out there, because at the end of the day, that’s all you got.” You can feel good about that in the rearview mirror.

Photos courtesy of the artist.