Tag: Americana

Exploding Trees & Airplane Screams

Posted on by Justin Hiltner

Most people know Patterson Hood as the frontman (really one of two frontmen) for the long-running rock band Drive-By Truckers. Had they come up in the 1970s instead of the ‘90s, the Truckers would have been mentioned in the same breath as bands like Lynyrd Skynyrd and The Allman Brothers Band. Led by Hood and fellow singer-guitarist Mike Cooley, they play kickass Southern rock — but the caveat is that this is intelligent kickass Southern rock. And much of the band’s sensibility is informed by Hood’s unique youth. He grew up in Alabama, but was raised by liberal parents (his dad is legendary Muscle Shoals bassist David Hood). As Patterson says, “Dualities have always been an obsession of mine and to some extent [of] the band itself.”

Over the years, Hood has also kept a solo career going on the side. But his new album, Exploding Trees & Airplane Screams, is unique for a couple of reasons. For one thing, it’s his first solo record in 12 years. For another, it’s a somewhat different beast, musically, from most of his albums – both with and without the Truckers. There’s considerably less guitar-based rock and roll, and other instruments, such as piano and even woodwinds, have been pushed more to the fore.

This is still very much a Patterson Hood disc. You can’t miss his distinct, gravelly vocals. His storytelling – often stories of what it was like to come of age in 1970s Alabama – retains a sharp eye for detail and the aforementioned dualities. There’s a lot of pathos in Hood’s writing, but there’s always some humor as well. Exploding Trees features appearances from the Truckers’ Brad Morgan and Jay Gonzalez (on drums and keyboards, respectively), not to mention Lydia Loveless (on the heartbreaking “A Werewolf and a Girl”), Steve Berlin, and producer Chris Funk, among others.

Good Country recently had the pleasure of catching up with Patterson Hood.

You’ve been very prolific with the Truckers, but Exploding Trees & Airplane Screams is your first solo album in more than a decade. Why a solo album now?

Patterson Hood: That’s a great question. The reason, I guess, is that I’ve been super busy with the band. The Truckers have been in a really good place for over a decade now. So I wasn’t particularly eager to do a side project just for the sake of doin’ one.

But [with] every album, there’s always a couple of songs that somehow get lost in the shuffle. Particularly after the record comes out – they turn out to be great tracks on the record, but they never get played live. So they are kind of forgotten songs that I care a lot about. I kind of started a file some years back for those songs. It’s not that the band can’t play them; the band played the shit out of ‘em. [It’s] more just the way our shows are, the flow of the show, the rooms we play. You know, the emphasis live often gets put on a certain level of rock, for lack of a better way of puttin’ it. There are songs that might be a little more introverted. So I’ve had a stack of those songs that were sitting there.

And I also, about 10 years ago, became friends with [producer] Chris Funk. We would play together from time to time, usually in the Northwest, because we both live in Portland. We had this cool chemistry. So for a long time, we’ve been talking about making a record together. And during the lockdown – when I was stuck and couldn’t go anywhere or do anything – I spent a lotta time up in my music room. I wasn’t really able to write a lot during lockdown, because my brain was just not functioning very well. I was very depressed. It didn’t make for good songs. But I could go back and go through song fragments and hone in on things. I could really edit like crazy! So I spent a lotta time working on those songs – instead of thinking in terms of what I would do in a rock band format, what I would do in not a rock band format. You know, like “I could hear woodwinds on this song!” Things like that.

We cut it pretty quick. But I spent a long time working on it before we recorded it, you know? Including Funk telling me a few months before we went in, “I hope you’re practicing that piano, because I want you to play it on the record.” I’m like, “No, that wasn’t the plan. The plan was to have someone who can actually play the damn thing!” I’m thankful, because if he hadn’t kicked my ass, I probably wouldn’t have played piano, to be honest. It forced me out of my comfort zone, which I think was as much the point as anything for him. I think he wanted to keep me in a state of perpetual terror! [Laughs]

I had been wondering if that was you playing most of the piano, whether it was Jay Gonzalez or someone else?

I played a lot of it. I mean, I’m not playing all of it; Jay’s definitely playin’ on it. And I think Funk and I both play piano on one song. Funk played a lotta synthesizers. Jay’s playing some old vintage weirdo keyboards that have names that I can’t even remember. Phil Cook played that organ part on “The Forks of Cypress” too. But as far as the songs that seem to be built around a simple piano part – that tends to be me. That’s what I play: simple piano parts! [Laughs] I’m not Randy Newman.

Can I ask you about a few of the specific tracks? I understand that “Exploding Trees” was based on an actual event.

Yeah. It was kind of like a meteorological phenomenon, I guess. It was in my hometown in February of 1994. It was right before my 30th birthday [and] right before I moved to Athens, Georgia. The weather had been warm and it rained a lot for a couple of weeks. It just rained and rained, you know? Borderline flood conditions. There’s a lot of pine trees, particularly in my home area. And they all got completely waterlogged by all the rain and with the warm temperatures.

Then there was this sudden freeze; the temperature dropped like 40 degrees in a couple of hours. And all the water in those trees froze. Particularly those pine trees – I guess they splinter easier anyway. The trees basically exploded all over town, kind of at the same time. Thousands of fucking trees! I mean, flattening cars, buildings, people. It was really awful. … And I had been out of town. I had ironically visited Athens a couple of nights before for the very first time – which directly led to me living there shortly after. I was driving back home as it happened; I basically drove right into the middle of it. I was trying to get to my grandmother’s house to check on her. I got to the house and there were, like, pieces of trees that had gone through the roof. And I couldn’t find her anywhere. [It turns out] she was fine. She was at a neighbor’s house.

I love the line “beauty queens in hospital gowns.”

Right. Well, one of the worst injuries of this storm was a girl I knew. I worked at a restaurant with her. She had just won Miss UNA, the beauty pageant, and was like two weeks away from going to compete for Miss Alabama. Lovely, lovely young woman. Very sweet – super Christian. And an oak tree fell on her car, with her in it. And it knocked her head down into her body cavity. It completely pulverized her neck and back – but she lived! She’s a quadriplegic [now, but] that accident led to [that line].

Oh God. That’s awful.

It feels like there’s a theme on a few songs of reckoning – coming to terms with past events, maybe.

Sure. Or trying to make sense of things. “Miss Coldiron’s Oldsmobile” – I was too young when that was happening to really wrap my head around what all of that meant. But as an adult, you can go, “Okay. She was being gaslighted, you know?” Every time she would ask for money, she’d get reminded of the mental hospital she had spent some time in. Things like that. It was pretty fucking insidious.

“The Van Pelt Parties” – you know, that was some of my first experiences with drinking and how adults partied. I was a little kid, sneaking booze from the punchbowl. I was the only kid at the party and we would go every year. And the older I got, the drunker I got. And the grownups were too drunk to notice! [Laughs]

Was Van Pelt a part of Alabama?

They were a family. He was a college professor, she was a schoolteacher. Their daughter was a painter who had been my babysitter. And my parents were right in the middle of their ages – kind of ended up becoming friends with all of them, with the daughter and the parents. So they were a big presence in my life growing up. You know, I loved ‘em. Their daughter, who’d been my babysitter, taught me a lot of cool stuff. She turned me on to some cool music. I actually have a painting she made after tripping on acid at a Doobie Brothers concert!

Maybe it was because we were young, but I think the ’70s had a much cooler vibe than the present.

Well, about anything’s better than [now]. I hate saying this so bad because I’m not prone to romanticizing the past; I’ve always rebelled against glory days. But right now sucks! The level of fucking misinformation and just the insanity right now is so insidious. It’s hard right now not to feel a certain amount of nostalgia for any time in the past.

You and Mike Cooley have been playing together for almost 40 years or more. And other members of the Truckers have come and gone. But the drummer, Brad Morgan, has been with you guys forever and we don’t hear a lot about him. Tell me a little about Brad and what he brings to the band.

The band wouldn’t exist without Brad. Brad was the glue that kept all this crazy shit together all these years. You know, he’s that guy that’s really even-keeled. And he brought that to the table at times when the band was far too tumultuous and emotional for our own good. We call him Easy B. There’s a golden rule in the band and that’s “Don’t piss off Easy B!” Because if you’re fucking up enough to where Easy B gets mad at you, you are fucking up! And you don’t want the phone call from Easy B! He doesn’t get mad often so if he’s mad, there’s a good reason for it and you better take heed. He’s also a colossal drummer. He so often takes such a subtle approach to things that people don’t realize what a bad-ass drummer he is.

I know you have some solo dates lined up. What can people look forward to when you’re touring with this album? I assume it’ll be a little different than a Truckers show?

Yeah! Very different. But at the same time, it’s the same universe. [Lydia Loveless] is in the band that’s touring this record. She’s gonna open the show and she’s gonna play bass and sing harmonies in my band.

I think anyone who’s into the Truckers – if they can tolerate my voice, they’ll probably like this too. [Laughs] If you’re there for the big frontal assault and guitars and sweat and spit that comes with a Truckers show, it’s very different. Although I’m not ruling out those things happening, too. But it’s a quieter show. It’s gonna be built around these songs, with some other stuff that stylistically or thematically works with this. And it’s cool.

Photo Credit: Jason Thrasher

A Women’s Lib Boat: John Hartford Fiddle Tune Project’s ‘Julia Belle’ Embarks

Posted on by Justin Hiltner

A quarter century removed from his passing, John Hartford’s music and overarching legacy may have a stronger hold on bluegrass and American roots music than ever before.

From modern-day stars like Billy Strings and Sam Bush playing his songs in front of thousands each night, to popping up in books, old-time jams, workshops, films, and other functions, Hartford’s songs are officially a part of the Americana zeitgeist.

This trend continues on Julia Belle: The John Hartford Fiddle Tune Project Volume 2. Released February 28, the follow-up to 2020’s inaugural installment of the Fiddle Tune Project features another 17 songs from the always grinnin’, GRAMMY award-winning, steamboat-loving singer – this time performed entirely by women. Nearly 50 artists, musicians, and singers feature throughout, ranging from Rachel Baiman, Phoebe Hunt, Ginger Boatwright, Brittany Haas, and Deanie Richardson, to Allison de Groot, Della Mae, The Price Sisters, Uncle Earl, Kathy Mattea, Alison Brown, and Sierra Hull.

According to Julia Belle co-producer Megan Lynch Chowning (who was joined in that role by Sharon Gilchrist and Katie Harford Hogue, John’s daughter), once the decision was made to move forward with an all-women cast it came time to narrow down who to include on it–something that was as much of a dilemma as it was “an incredibly cool revelation.”

“We decided about halfway through to just make it a reality rather than a selling point,” she jokes. “It’s in the same spirit of whenever you open up a record from the Bluegrass Album Band, nobody says, ‘Wow, what a great all-male band that is!'”

Ahead of Julia Belle‘s release, Harford Hogue, Lynch Chowning, and Gilchrist spoke with BGS about their involvement in the project, preserving John Hartford’s legacy, and favorite moments from recording.

(Editor’s Note: The following are three separate conversations combined into one and edited for brevity.)

Nearly 50 artists are involved in Julia Belle. How did you go about deciding who to include on the project and which songs they’d play on?

Sharon Gilchrist: It was really important for us to have a multi-generational presence on this record. One of Katie’s personal wishes for the album was that every artist on the record have some personal connection to Hartford. With it being an all-female record, I was also curious to find women who had actually worked with or had some kind of rapport with him. For example, Laurie Lewis, Kathy Kallick, and Suzy Thompson are all on “Champagne Blues” and were all peers of Hartford’s back in the day. Ginger Boatwright actually inspired the song that John wrote which she sings on, “Learning to Smile All Over Again.”

In addition to the sheer number of people involved, I love how you also really allowed them to lean into their own creative tendencies while at the same time staying true to the style and spirit of John Hartford.

Katie Harford Hogue: Since Volume I the whole premise of this album series has been to choose artists that play this vein of music or consider my dad a mentor or someone they look up to. We hand them the book [John Hartford’s Mammoth Collection of Fiddle Tunes] and tell them to choose the tunes that speak to you, then come to the studio and put them through your filter.

For me to tell an artist how to do art – why would I do that? The whole point of being an artist is that you’re putting yourself into it and are using your own expressions, your own metaphors, and your own way of relating to the music. So we wanted their expression in it and the really cool thing is that Dad comes through no matter what we do. His DNA is in these tunes and there’s no way to get them out, not that we would ever want to. Having people come in and just go for it was risky, but an incredibly fun way to make an album.

Megan Lynch Chowning: A lot of the tones, audio, and overall vibe check comes from Sharon, who has been a John Hartford fan her entire musical life and is somebody who is so incredibly in tune with the sounds and feel that comes from his songs. She worked tirelessly listening to everybody’s work before they came in to record to get an idea of what’s going to help each person be the best possible version of themselves while they’re here.

Then there’s the issue of none of these songs – at least the fiddle tunes – having any chords assigned to them. When John wrote them there were no chord progressions, so every artist had to write their own. That in itself was a big part of people getting to take each song in their own directions. It was amazing to watch over and over again, and Sharon handled it all like an absolute rock star.

While some people’s legacy fades over time, it seems like John Hartford’s only grows stronger. What are your thoughts on that and how this project aims to further propel that legacy forward?

KHH: I’ve heard it said before that the way he communicated wasn’t limited to a particular generation. I don’t know if it was the way he thought about things or if some of the ways he did things were more universal. … You can go back to the masters of music and art – da Vinci, Bach – and their methods of creativity are still very valid now, they simply don’t go out of style.

When you hone into the foundation of it the relevancy goes with it, because everyone’s just going back to what’s real, which is what I think my dad also did. He was very true to the way he made music and the way he thought. A lot of people trying to make a career might stop and think, “What does the public want?” or “What do the masses want and how can I provide for them?” There’s nothing wrong with that, but there is another way to do it, making the music you want to make and not worrying whether or not it’s commercially viable.

That being said, “Gentle On My Mind” [Hartford’s most successful song, written in 1966] was very helpful in allowing him to do that full-time. Most everyone else has to get a full-time job and do the music on the side to stay true to themselves, but he got the best of both worlds in that way. He was able to take the success of that song and then go do his art with his heart and soul in it. I mean, who else writes about steamboats? Who else would write about the things that he wrote about and try the things he did on stage or just go out on a limb? And it all worked! In a way, everything aligned for him. That’s why I think he continues to be so relevant – he took a big risk and it paid off.

MLC: In the very first meeting the three of us had to discuss Volume II, preserving and carrying on the Hartford legacy was the focus of what we were trying to accomplish. On any given day you’ve got Billy Strings and Sam Bush playing John Hartford songs in their live shows. The biggest takeaway I have from this whole thing is John Hartford’s unceasing dedication to learning. He started transcribing and learned to write standard notation after he was diagnosed with cancer and instead of saying, “Oh no, I’m sick and this is going to slow me down,” he took it as a sign to move forward and learn a bunch of new things. That’s what led to him becoming obsessed with the fiddle, traditional styles and all that. That to me is the whole message behind these albums, that there’s so much more to do and so much more to write, play and learn. That’s been the most inspiring thing about being a part of this project.

SG: He was both a student and innovator of traditional music who forged his way forward by not sounding anything like anybody else. John is one of the largest beacons shining the way forward on how you do that.

What were your favorite moments from recording these songs? I personally can’t get enough of “Spirit of the South.”

KHH: What was so fun for me about these sessions was that even in rehearsals everyone was shredding. Upon walking in the room you’re hit with this energy and you just want to jump in. It was so exciting talking with everyone and feeling their joy around each song. Then there were the stories from Ginger Boatwright and Kathy Chiavola – both good friends of my dad – and Alison Brown telling me about his influence over her on the banjo.

Not being a musician, that all fed me, because that was a part of my dad’s life that I wasn’t necessarily connected with very much when he was alive. But now I can hear his music and I can see what he was doing and it just has a whole different impact on me. I’ve now had my own kids, raised them, done some things, and can relate more to what he was doing, so every time someone comes back to the studio and records a song, tells a story or talks about his influence, it feel like there’s a drawing of Dad and everyone’s going in and adding details that I hadn’t known about before or that just flesh out the picture that little bit more.

MLC: One favorite was getting Katie’s mom and John’s first wife, Betty, to sing on “No End of Love,” which is a song that John wrote for her. She is an incredible musician who first met John when they were both up for a radio show slot in the St. Louis area. After they got married Betty put her singing career on hold to manage the family, so being able to get her in the studio to sing that song with Katie and her granddaughter Natalie [Hogue] on guitar and hearing her voice – which has been on hold for a long time as she lives other aspects of her life – gave me chills. To me, stuff like that is the essence of folk music and why we do what we do in terms of keeping these songs and traditions alive.

Megan, didn’t you play John’s Tambovsky & Krutz violin on “No End 0f Love”? What was that experience like?

MLC: I actually have John’s fiddle here at my house and play it in the John Hartford Fiddle Tune Project live show, so I’ve been handling it for a while now. Talk about chills – it’s the fiddle he used the last five or so years of his life. It was his main fiddle for the “Down From the Mountain” shows and The Speed of the Old Long Bow record. It’s actually the fiddle on the cover of that album. Katie called me last year out of the blue and said she was moving houses and had taken the fiddle from one closet to another before questioning why it was there in the first place and not in my hands being played at these shows.

To play it on [“No End of Love”] was funny, because it sounds a lot different than my fiddle even though both were set up by the same person. It always felt comfortable to play, but the first few months I had it it was kind of dead from sitting in a closet for two decades. Since I’ve been playing it regularly it’s really come to life. Just the metaphorical part of this fiddle coming to life at the same moment these tunes are being brought into the world is special. It’s how I believe everybody who has the opportunity to be involved in traditional music should be thinking about it. We should constantly be honoring the stuff that came before us while also bringing it into new spaces.

Katie, you mentioned not being too connected to your father’s music when he was still alive, but what do you remember most about those times?

KHH: People saw his stage persona when he was out, but even when he was home he was still playing. He didn’t go home and just say, “Oh, I’m tired of that.” He played some more. “Obsessive” is not too strong a word to use when it came to the way his brain worked about music or art. It would be Thanksgiving or Christmas and he’d be working out melodies in the living room with Benny Martin simply because they enjoyed it.

Later on, my wedding reception was held at my dad’s house and we had originally set up music on a sound system so as not to burden him, but he, my brother, and my uncle ended up all grabbing their instruments and playing as a trio for it. He wasn’t a musician because he was trying to be famous; he was a musician because he couldn’t not be one. As much as his right hand was a part of him, his fiddle and his banjo were a part of him too.

What has working on The John Hartford Fiddle Tune Project taught you about yourself?

MLC: These experiences have taught me that I’m capable at parts of this job that I previously shied away from. I grew up as a contest fiddler; that was my background. Because of that I was very good at learning specific arrangements of things and then executing them with precision. While that’s all great and fine – one: it’s not a very good living, and two: it’s not all that great for having a very broad musical vision or sense of yourself. That’s why I started playing bluegrass and working for country artists. My skills and musicianship both expanded, but working on these albums – both as a player on Volume I and as a producer/player on Volume II – I’ve learned much more about my internal ability to hear things I didn’t know that I could hear and to make decisions I didn’t know I could make.

It reminds me of this exercise that John Hartford used to do with people at his jams or in his band – called the “window exercise” – where everybody who’s playing has to do something different than everybody else and then has to change that thing every eight bars. If you’ve got five or six people sitting around in a circle, one person can be chopping, one person can be playing longbows, melody, harmony, shuffle pattern… but only for eight bars. It requires you to not only come up with new things, but also be aware of what everyone else is doing simultaneously.

It was a musical brain exercise he invented that we teach at our workshops and sometimes even at the live show. To me, working on these albums has been like a real-life window exercise. It feels like even from beyond the grave John Hartford is challenging me to go bigger, be more creative, and more aware all the time. He’s just expanded who I am as a musician and what I now know that I’m capable of that I didn’t know I was capable of before. It’s weird to be grateful to someone who’s been dead for 25 years, but that’s how I feel because I’m a different person and a different player than I was before I started this.

SG: It showed me the importance of being hands-off with other people’s musicianship and to give them every opportunity to bring as much of themselves to any project as possible. That’s when you’re going to get the best music out of somebody. This project was a lesson in learning to do that, but also knowing when to jump in and direct or provide guidance when necessary.

Katie did a great job of that as well. This whole project is her brainchild and was a huge undertaking and the coolest part is the way she’s doing it. She’s doing it just like her dad. He would be so honored and pleased to see her fostering that in his own tunes and giving others the opportunity to share in and carry on that tradition.

KHH: I was a stay-at-home mom when my kids were born and poured a lot into them growing up, but once my youngest got to high school I began backing off and looking to do some of the things I’d been putting off. Coincidentally, the fiddle tune project was coming to fruition around the same time.

It was like walking out on a limb – especially as an older woman – to go out and start on some of these things not having been in the industry or corporate world in quite a while, but I did it. I have learned so much about not just the music industry, but things like how to use computer software like Photoshop and Illustrator and doing video for social media. It’s a lot of fun and something I’m very proud to be able to say that I did. I want to encourage other women to do the same. Don’t worry about what other people are saying, what you’ve done before, how old you are or what stage of life you’re in – don’t let anyone devalue your experience. If you’ve got an idea, go do it!

 

Artist of the Month: Rose Cousins

Posted on by Justin Hiltner

Rose Cousins is nothing if not intentional. With her new album Conditions of Love – Vol 1 (out March 14), Cousins demonstrates a controlled discipline as she considers the most unruly of our emotions. The JUNO award-winning artist is a student of love, from the sweet certainty of “One Love” from her 2016 album If You Were For Me to the entirety of her 2017 masterpiece Natural Conclusion to “The Agreement,” a consideration of the liberties and drawbacks of a long-distance open relationship from her most recent prior full-length project, Bravado.

Over the years, Cousins has honed her approach to her craft as carefully as her music, even taking a five-year break between albums to recover from burn out and focus on songwriting over performance. That commitment to her art is just one small part of what has earned Cousins the recognition of being named BGS’ Artist of the Month.

Conditions kicks off with “To Be Born,” an instrumental channeling of the rural Prince Edward Island where Cousins grew up. Buzzing wonderment introduces us to a song cycle of love in all its forms: romantic, platonic, a sense of one-ness with the universe – and what causes them to grow and die. At the beginning of it all, Cousins tells us, is that sense of wondrous possibility.

“I Believe in Love (and it’s very hard)” harbors a desire that Cousins hinted in a 2012 interview with No Depression – a fascination with songs that are upbeat and poppy, but communicate something serious. The song is a catchy thesis statement for this album: that as much we depend on our bonds with others to survive, we crave our individual freedoms and yearn for balance.

I know in love it’s hard to be
Everything that someone else could ever need
While holding onto “wild and free”

Wild and free
Wild and free
Wild and free
Wild and free

But there are certain types of love that require obligation. “Needed You” weaves bitterness and compassion together with the opening salvo,

Yeah I turned out fine
It’s what we do
I spent my time looking for clues
So I became a wishing well
And I don’t need water
Is what I tell myself

In this moving piano ballad, Cousins considers both the person she’s become and the inner child who needed nurturing. While the song seeks to find reconciliation between that vulnerable inner core and the people in our past who make us lock that core away, the song also invites us to empathize with the legacies of intergenerational trauma that can lead to a family’s failure to meet a child’s emotional needs. It’s an astonishing track, one that efficiently wraps years of therapy into four minutes.

“Denouement” is even more precise – an airy collection of word associations that invite us to fill in the blanks in the arc of a relationship.

Happenstance
Vast expanse
Circumstance
Second glance
Take a chance
New romance
Take my hand
Can I have this dance

Cousins’ abstraction is delightful, a wry acknowledgment of how cliche love can be, even as we revel in its glorious highs (and pray that the lows stay away as long as possible – forever, ideally.) But the cycle eventually starts again – after all, we’re only human – and the dance can feel as familiar as it does wondrous.

That feeling extends to another shade of love: gratitude. “Borrowed Light” asks us to reflect on the ways we connect with everything around us, and to appreciate the all-too-brief length of time we have to experience it.

I am borrowing light
From the moon, who is borrowing light
From the sun who comes back every time
Every time

“Borrowed Light” is anchored by a questing piano line, an instrument that Cousins feels is her first love. As the instrument – a 1967 Baldwin grand that Cousins and long-time collaborator/producer Joshua Van Tassel fell in love with immediately – traverses the cosmos, Cousins is buttressed by a backing chorus momentarily, sublimely, at the song’s apex.

Conditions of Love – Vol 1 doesn’t offer many answers and, of course, the title hints at further dives into the topic. However, Cousins does offer one example of how to live, a waltz dedicated to her late friend and colleague, Koady Chaisson, “K’s Waltz.”

Your heart
It did not give out or give in
It gave everything
It gave everything
It gave everything
It gave everything

As hard as it is, Cousins begs us to be as open as possible, to feel all of it – love and joy, yes, but also grief at partings that are inevitable, no matter what. It’s only when we push through our defenses to embrace radical openness, when we “give everything,” that we can say we have lived well.

We are so very excited to name Rose Cousins our March 2025 Artist of the Month. Dive into our exclusive interview with Rose all about the new album here, listen to Rose in conversation with her longtime friend Edie Carey on Basic Folk here, explore our Essential Rose Cousins Playlist below, and follow along on social media all month long as we go back into the BGS archives for anything and everything Rose Cousins.

Photo Credit: Lindsay Duncan

BGS 5+5: Amy Irving

Posted on by Justin Hiltner

Artist: Amy Irving
Hometown: San Francisco, California
Latest Album: Always Will Be (out April 25, 2025)

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

I’ve been an actor all my life. I began on this new path, making music with the band GOOLIS, a few years back. And I’ve been learning so much from them, especially our band leader Jules David Bartkowski.

I remember going into the studio to record our sophomore album, Always Will Be, and Jules suggested I improvise some. Well, let me tell you, as an actress, I had been traumatized in acting school improv class. I was never comfortable acting without a script. I’ve always considered my gift was in interpreting playwrights’ words. So, when I sang, I followed the notes exactly. But Jules and Aaron, our keyboardist, insisted that I try. I complained my mistakes would be so loud and they replied, “Oh yeah, Amy, we never make mistakes here.” Okay, I got it. I did it. And now you can’t keep me down on the farm.

What rituals do you have, either in the studio or before a show?

Before every show, after sound check, I retreat to my dressing room, to meditate and rest my voice. It’s a time to conserve my energy. I eat some protein that will not talk to me on the stage. Half a beta blocker keeps my hands from shaking. I do a vocal warmup, either alone with a taped class or over FaceTime with my wonderful vocal coach, Celeste Simone. Gabriel Barreto, my son and manager and record producer and photographer, then digs his elbows into my tight shoulders. When it’s five minutes to showtime, I usually run to the bathroom and have to throw up (yes, I get terrible stage fright), knock back a shot of tequila, then Jules leads us all in an exercise of shaking all the tension from each part of our bodies.

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

Working with bandleader Jules is a thrill, because our music covers so many genres, once he decides on his arrangements. He has taken the songs of Willie Nelson and transformed them from punk rock to samba.

Broadly speaking, Jules was going for a kind of golden age of mid- to late-century global pop/rock approach. To offer a more specific example: the first song of the record Always Will Be, “Dream Come True,” was, for Jules, an attempt to channel 1960s Italian rock acts like Mina and Adriano Celentano, while throwing in some Vegas-style late Elvis maximalism and some doo-wop baritone sax. On the song “Getting Over You,” he was trying to find an intersection between The Clash and The Supremes. On “Everywhere I Go” he was trying to mix the Mexican influence of the original with the connected worlds of Klezmer and Balkan music and 1970s Ethiopian jazz.

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

I’d like to eat foie gras and fig jam on a baguette with a glass of pinot noir while Édith Piaf sings to me “Non, je ne regrette rien.”

Does pineapple really belong on pizza?

I think anything goes. I remember a long time ago when Wolfgang Puck first opened Spagos on Sunset Boulevard in Los Angeles, I was appalled to see “Jewish Pizza” on the menu. Well, it was smoked salmon and cream cheese pizza and I’m here to tell you it was delicious!

Photo Credit: Gabriel Barreto

Mark Knopfler’s ‘Shangri-La’ Rearranged Adam Wright’s Artistic DNA

Posted on by Justin Hiltner

(Editor’s Note: No Skips is a brand new feature from BGS that asks artists, songwriters, musicians, and industry professionals what albums they regard as perfect, with every track a masterpiece – i.e., No Skips!

For the first edition of the column, songwriter-artist-musician Adam Wright highlights Mark Knopfler’s seminal album, Shangri-La, as we look ahead to Wright’s own upcoming project, Nature of Necessity, coming later this year.)

There are only a few times in your creative life when someone’s work hits you so hard it rearranges your artistic DNA. I could probably count those moments for me on one hand.

Shangri-La was a big one. It told me that you can write away from the outside understanding of things. That you can start from the inside of your own knowledge and continue inward. It also taught me that you can write about anything you find interesting. That being understood is not as important as whether or not you’ve put something down worthy of working out for whomever decides to try to understand it. And that there are so many things to write about that are not falling in and out of love. (People probably could have stopped writing love songs in 1950 and we still would have too many.)

The depth and perspective of the storytelling, the crafted excellence of the writing and the sublimely tasteful musicianship make it, to me, Knopfler’s masterpiece. He’s done this on all of his albums, they all include brilliant gems of songs, but Shangri-La is just perfection from top to bottom. – Adam Wright

“5:15 AM” (Track 1)

Like all of the songs on this album, “5:15 AM” is exquisitely written and recorded. It is the story of a coal miner on his way home from the night shift discovering a murder victim who turns out to be involved with organized crime. It is chock-full of lingo and references to specifics about gambling machines, nightclubs, and lots of mining terms. The way Mark weaves all of this language into lyricism and brings it back to the tragic lives of the coal miners at the end is exceptional and beautiful writing. The recording is gorgeous and still somehow earthy as dirt. Just a masterclass in songcraft.

“Boom, Like That” (Track 2)

“Boom, Like That” is about the rise of Ray Kroc from a milkshake salesman to a fast food emperor. Like “5:15 AM,” there are plenty of specific references in this one. “Going to San Bernardino, ring a ding ding. Milkshake mixes, that’s my thing now.” You’re in the middle of the beginning of a story right off the bat. I love songs from the character’s perspective and few writers do that as well as Knopfler.

The movie The Founder was filmed in my hometown of Newnan, Georgia. I noticed the town when I saw it, so I looked it up and read a bit about the filming. While the song was inspired by the book about Kroc, I’d read the movie was actually inspired by the song. Even if the song weren’t so well-written, the riff at the end of the chorus is enough to keep any guitar player happily busy for days.

“All That Matters” (Track 11)

Much of Shangri-La is written from the perspective of the characters in its songs. The title track and “All That Matters” seem to be more personal. “All That Matters” is just a sweet, simple song from a father to his children. Again, beautifully written and pretty as porcelain. It has some surprising chordal and melodic turns in the B section to juxtapose the nursery rhymey-ness of the verses. Just perfect. And a nice respite from the mostly cynical tone of much of the album.

“Stand Up Guy” (Track 12)

“Brew the coffee in a bucket/ Double straight man and banjo/ If you don’t got the snake oil/ Buster, you don’t got a show.”

Again, you’re right smack dab in the middle of someone’s story. This time it’s a musician in a group of traveling, Victorian-era pitchmen. They apparently have teamed up with “the Doctor” who peddles snake oil medicine to townspeople and does it well enough to keep them fed on beefsteak and whiskey. Just wonderfully interesting, both lyrically and musically.

If you wanted to become a very good songwriter (or musician or producer, for that matter), you could only study Shangri-La for years and get a very long way toward the goal. I’ve been mining this album for inspiration for twenty years. It always gives me something more.

Photo Credit: Jo Lopez

You Gotta Hear This: New Music From David Starr, Darren Nicholson, and More

Posted on by Justin Hiltner

For our final New Music Friday of February and as we look ahead to March, here are a half dozen brand new songs and videos you simply gotta hear.

Kicking us off, JD Clayton reminds himself and all of us that the speed of the internet, the news cycle, and social media is too damn fast. His new video reminds us of the power of “Slow & Steady” with a glitzy and gritty alt-Americana sound. A modern blues picking icon David Starr brings a new video for “Hole In The Page” as well, writing the book on lost love, lessons learned, and a liberal dose of longing with wailing organ and plenty of licks. Rounding out our videos this week is a frolic by Miss Georgia Peach, “Dusty,” that was inspired by her independent Maine Coon cat, Dusty Springfield, but ultimately celebrates autonomy and agency soundtracked by Americana meets Southern rock.

From the bluegrass realms, Darren Nicholson and band perform an original that Darren penned with Charles Humphrey (Songs From the Road Band). The pair regard their number, “Any Highway,” as a “modern classic” – and we think you’ll agree when you’ve heard this propulsive traveling song. Nicholson’s labelmate, Jaelee Roberts, can be found with a new track below, too. This gospel selection, “He’s Gone,” was written by Kelsi Harrigill (formerly of Flatt Lonesome) and features special guest vocalists Ricky Skaggs, Sharon White, and Cheryl White Jones joining Roberts.

You won’t want to miss a new single from new acoustic-infused Colorado string trio Salomé Songbird, who debut the lovely and contemplative “I’m Alright.” It’s a bit of a musical mantra, pushing through darkness and precipitous mental health to find strength with mandolin, violin, and guitar lending bluegrass and old-time touches.

It’s all right here on BGS and You Gotta Hear This!

JD Clayton, “Slow & Steady”

Artist: JD Clayton
Hometown: Fort Smith, Arkansas
Song: “Slow & Steady”
Album: Blue Sky Sundays
Release Date: February 28, 2025
Label: Rounder Records

In Their Words: “‘Slow & Steady’ is about a young carefree couple taking life easy in the summertime, living in the moment, fully content with living the slow life. My generation is crippled by depression and anxiety with me chief among them. We’re addicted to our phones and the attention we receive from strangers on the internet. I can’t go more than five minutes without checking to see if someone texted me or shared my post. I don’t want this for my life anymore. I want to change. I know things can be better! ‘Slow & Steady’ is more than a song, it’s a mindset. It’s a movement. I’m going to love and live in each moment. Slow and steady, easy does it. This is going to be the greatest summer of our lives.” – JD Clayton

Video Credits: Drifters Productions
Directed by Hannah Gray Hall.
Director of Photography – Ryan Mclemore

Miss Georgia Peach, “Dusty”

Artist: Miss Georgia Peach
Hometown: Saint Paul, Minnesota
Song: “Dusty”
Album: Class Out The Ass
Release Date: February 14, 2025
Label: Rum/Bar Records

In Their Words: “Technically, this song is about our feral, gorgeous Maine Coon cat, Dusty Springfield. The song practically wrote itself, following the opening hook, ‘Dusty’s goin’ out tonight,’ which came to me as she ran in looking perfectly happy and unworried after being gone for a number of days. The lyrics are for any wild independent beauty who can’t or won’t be tamed and knows what’s best for herself. She’s going out all night, doing exactly what she feels like doing, and despite your worries, she knows what’s what. She is mysterious and unknowable and incredibly fascinating. The music conveys love and frustration, confusion and devotion. The one left [at] home is the one going crazy and trying to figure out what’s going on, not experiencing the adventure Dusty is having. The video puts it in the context of a teenage girl living with her grandma in the country, testing her boundaries, wondering when her life will start. Like most teens, I felt trapped at home, ditching school and running wild at night with my friends. I was home in the morning and for dinner, but the in-between times were mine.” – Miss Georgia Peach

Track Credits:
Miss Georgia Peach – Vocals
Ruyter Suys – Guitar, backing vocals
Blaine Cartwright – Guitar
AJ Srubas – Fiddle
Mark Hendricks – Bass
Travis Ramin – Drums
Heather Parrish – Backing vocals

Video Credits: Directed and shot by Miss Georgia Peach.
Edited by Wendy Norton, Norton Video.

Darren Nicholson, “Any Highway”

Artist: Darren Nicholson
Hometown: Canton, North Carolina
Song: “Any Highway”
Release Date: February 28, 2025

In Their Words: “‘Any Highway’ is one of the first songs I ever wrote with Charles R. Humphrey III. Not only is it one of my favorites, but the No Joke Jimmy’s always had this one in the set list, so I felt I needed to get a good studio recording of it. It’s a story of a man who is so heartbroken by a free-spirited young lady he feels compelled to leave immediately. No plan, no direction, he just knows he has to go elsewhere. Sometimes, the best way to get over a heartache is by just getting to a place where you don’t have to stare it in the face it anymore.” – Darren Nicholson

“‘Any Highway’ is the first song Darren and I wrote. We had met years ago in Alaska while playing in separate bluegrass bands together. I was, and still am, a long time admirer of Darren’s singing, picking, and larger-than-life personality. These are qualities I look for in co-writers. In my opinion, the song itself is a historical fiction account of ‘the one that got away.’  The song style pays tribute to the bluegrass greats that perfected the hard-driving slick style of playing. I think it’s a really cool song, and it’s been the start of a fruitful co-writing friendship with Darren. ‘Any Highway’ is a modern day classic!” – Charles Humphrey III

Track Credits:
Darren Nicholson – Mandolin, lead vocal
Zach Smith – Upright bass
Colby Laney – Acoustic guitar
Deanie Richardson – Fiddle
Kristin Scott Benson – Banjo
Tony Creasman – Drums
Kevin Sluder – Harmony vocal
Jennifer Nicholson – Harmony vocal

Jaelee Roberts, “He’s Gone”

Artist: Jaelee Roberts
Hometown: Nashville, Tennessee
Song: “He’s Gone”
Release Date: February 28, 2025

In Their Words: “As the songs were coming together for my new album, I was still in need of a gospel song to record so I reached out to my very dear friend and mentor, Kelsi Harrigill, to see if she had written anything recently. She sent a few songs to me that I really liked but none of them felt like ‘the one.’ However, a few days later while she was vacuuming, she was inspired to write the song ‘He’s Gone’ and I knew after the first listen it was absolutely the one for me to record. This gospel song tells the incredible story of how Jesus was crucified, buried, and rose again. ‘Praise God the tomb’s empty, He’s Gone.’

“I am so happy that I got to record this special song and thrilled to be joined by amazing musicians: Ron Block (banjo), Stuart Duncan (fiddle), Cody Kilby (guitar), Andy Leftwich (mandolin), Justin Moses (dobro), and Byron House (bass/producer). To top it off and make a dream come true, three very special people in my life came to the studio to sing with me – Sharon White Skaggs, Cheryl White Jones, and Ricky Skaggs. I feel very blessed and honored to have their voices on ‘He’s Gone.’ I love this song so much and I am thankful for the message of ‘He’s Gone’ and I hope that each of you will love it, too.” – Jaelee Roberts

Salomé Songbird, “I’m Alright”

Artist: Salomé Songbird
Hometown: Colorado
Song: “I’m Alright”
Release Date: February 28, 2025

In Their Words: “Broadly, ‘I’m Alright’ is about being stuck someplace and needing to escape. It is full of imagery from every place I’ve ever been desperate to leave. There are a lot of references to following the sun or heading west, which would be a return home in my mind. On a personal level, this song is about suicide. I hope anyone listening who is also feeling that kind of darkness feels a little less alone. There is always someone who wants to help you and there is always another door that’s not that one.” – Joy Adams, songwriter, mandolin, vocals

“‘I’m Alright’ is a song that has been an important part of finding our voice and an audience that voice resonates with during live performance over the last couple years. I’m glad it’s now one of the first songs we’re releasing as a band.” – Bryan Dubrow, guitar

Track Credits:
Joy Adams – Songwriter, vocals, mandolin
Ariele Macadangdang – Vocals, violin
Bryan Dubrow – Guitar

David Starr, “Hole In The Page”

Artist: David Starr
Hometown: Cedaredge, Colorado
Song: “Hole In The Page”
Album: Must Be Blue
Release Date: January 24, 2025 (song); February 28, 2025 (video)
Label: Quarto Valley Records

In Their Words: “I am so excited to share my first release with Quarto Valley Records! It’s kind of ironic, because this song was the last song written for the album that happened by accident. The idea came about because of something I misheard on a radio show, thinking they said ‘hole in the page,’ which got the wheels turning. While I can’t remember what they actually said, I am so grateful for that spark of creativity. It’s funny that this song then turned into being the one to kick off the rest of the project. I love the energy of the track and that it packs a punch. Jason Lee Denton and I have collaborated on a number of videos together and I knew he would knock this one out of the park. I love the direction he took, it is the perfect visual representation of the song!” – David Starr

Track Credits:
David Starr – Acoustic guitar, vocals
Greg Morrow – Drums
Jeff King – Electric guitar
Mark Prentice – Bass, keyboards
Michelle Nicolo Prentice – Background vocals
Joe Starr – Electric guitar

Video Credits: Jason Lee Denton, Solar Cabin Productions

Photo Credit: David Starr by Jason Lee Denton; Darren Nicholson by Jeff Smith.

Basic Folk: Gary Louris

Posted on by Justin Hiltner

(Editor’s Note: This special episode of Basic Folk featuring Gary Louris is guest-hosted by singer-songwriter and friend of the podcast Mark Erelli.)

You probably know Gary Louris as the leader of The Jayhawks – or as they refer to themselves, “a band from Minnesota.” The Jayhawks are pioneers of roots rock, alt-country, and Americana. Whatever you wanna call it, they’ve been making records where rock, pop, country, and other forms of American roots music overlap since the mid-1980s.

But Louris’s hidden superpower is that he’s kind of like a musical Swiss Army knife – he’s basically got a creative skill for any application. Want him and his band to serve as accompanists for some of the most distinctive singer-songwriters, like Wesley Stage and Joe Henry? He can do that. Looking for achingly perfect, near-fraternal harmonies on hit songs like Counting Crows’ “Mr. Jones”? He can (and did) do that. If you’re Tedeschi Trucks Band or The Chicks and looking for someone to write you some catchy, melodic, roots-pop songs? Gary’s your guy. If that’s not enough, he has also produced records for artists like Dar Williams, The Sadies, and The Jayhawks, too. Whatever your musical need may be, chances are that Gary Louris can do it.

LISTEN: APPLE • SPOTIFY • AMAZON • MP3

In between all these varied musical roles, Louris has also found time to release several solo albums, the newest of which – Dark Country – was released earlier this month. He recorded it mostly solo in his home studio and the word on the street is that this collection of songs, inspired by his wife, is his most intimate and romantic album yet. I’ve been a big fan of Gary Louris for basically my entire adult life and enjoyed our wide-ranging Basic Folk conversation, touching on the way technical limitations can shape an artist’s style, what he’s learned from a career’s worth of collaborations, his process working on his new solo album, the relationship between versatility and longevity, and what the influence of romance on his songwriting looks like now, in the fifth decade of his music career.

Listen to Mark Erelli guest on Basic Folk here.

Photo Credit: Steve Cohen

Americana Agnostic: How Cristina Vane Developed a Sound All Her Own

Posted on by Justin Hiltner

A blues, old-time, and Americana alchemist, singer-songwriter-instrumentalist Cristina Vane has just released a striking new album, Hear My Call, a collection that defies categorization and tidy genre labels.

Something of a roots music influencer – though she perhaps would never self ascribe that title – Vane has built a remarkable following around her agnostic approach to borderless, post-genre roots music that effortlessly calls back to eras before all of these styles were stratified and separated.

Vane’s Americana agnosticism stems from a variety of inspirations and inputs, but is largely derived from circumstances, taste, and whim. On the seventh track of Hear My Call, “My Mountain,” she sings along with loping frailed banjo:

I was born across the sea
At the feet of the mountain
I left young and it left me
Lost a piece of my grounding
I watch you and how you speak
Belonging is astounding
I watch you, but what of me?
The history that I’m bound to…

She’s referencing her upbringing in Europe, born at the foot of the Alps and raised in Paris before moving to the U.S. in her youth. What does it mean to be a purveyor of “mountain music” when the mountains you claim are not Appalachia or the Ozarks or even Celtic highlands? How can you be an expert and interpreter of these art forms, while ultimately sensing – consciously and subconsciously – that your identity is not or cannot be interwoven with them? Perhaps it brings a certain unbridled freedom and ease? Or perhaps it means your entire relationship to the musics you love will be informed by this kind of daunting existential question: Can you belong?

For Vane, it’s clearly a smattering of many factors that has led her to this delicious and carefree combination of styles, sonics, and songs. She is truly an expert on blues, bluegrass, old-time, and beyond, spurred to excellence on one hand by her feeling of imposing in these traditions and on the other by a devout love and gratitude for the people who also inhabit these spaces and who passed the art along to her.

Cristina Vane may have not felt truly at home in the roots music scenes that claim her until recently or maybe she needed to still grow, easing into her current confident, unapologetic sense of self. At any rate, she’s ready for the world to hear her call – and to understand that she alone decides who she is, how she sounds, and where she belongs. Whether “her mountain” is found in the Alps, in the southeastern United States, in Los Angeles, Music City, or anywhere else. Vane knows that she, too, is a part of these timeless traditions and that, above all else, could be the primary reason she moves between these folkways so gracefully and entrancingly.

Your sound feels like it hearkens back to a time before roots music was split up into all of these different genres, when blues and folk and old-time and bluegrass and country were all technically considered the same thing. I feel like you combine sounds in a really similar way. How do you approach your sound? To me it feels like you’re pretty agnostic, you are very fluid in the way you approach genre. Especially with this album, as it feels so fully fleshed out, built up, and lush.

Cristina Vane: It is a really fine line to walk and I’ve had this struggle since forever where I just don’t want to choose. I don’t feel like I should have to really, either, and I do think that’s what I was hoping would come across in all my albums. Specifically this one in many areas of my life, includes this question of, “Who am I?” “Where am I from?” “Who am I in my community?”

“Who am I” applies to genre as well. Every time I feel this voice of self-doubt that’s like, “It’s just too confusing. If you wanna be appealing to more people and get better opportunities and festivals, they have to know what you are.”

Every time that comes up it’s a difficult feeling, but I ultimately always just say “fuck you!” [Laughs] It’s really affirming that you feel positively about that because I also agree, in the sense that I come from the ‘90s and 2000s, listening to different music and genre was important, but not in the way that I feel like it can get tiresome in Americana music. Where there’s this legacy and tradition that you have to uphold if you’re gonna fit within the parameters of a genre. Whereas, in indie music you can do whatever you want and if it sounds kind of like the other bands in the genre, then I guess you’re indie!

I guess I approached the older traditions with some hesitancy, because I knew that traditional-leaning people are [going to question me]. “You’re not really a blues woman” and “You’re not really a bluegrass artist” and “You’re not really an old-time player.”

Honestly, I think one of the people that, in a lot of ways inspired me on my first album to just stay the course, was Sarah Jarosz. It was more than the fact that she played different instruments and didn’t feel bound to be just a mandolin player. She’s just so talented, obviously, and I think it was very full circle when her last album came out and it was a completely different world than the string band sound stuff. I was like, “See? We all have it in us to want to explore different things.”

To answer your question a little more directly, I don’t worry about genre. If I wrote this song and I am proud of the song, I want to flesh it out in a way that just intuitively feels good to me. That being said, there are some songs where I lean towards more bluegrass, but there’s also a song like “Storm Brewing,” where it’s a clawhammer song. I wrote it on the banjo and then when we dressed it up, it just felt really good to put some electric guitar in there. I’ve added drums to everything because that’s how I wanna play my live show.

I love that you mention Sarah Jarosz, because that’s definitely an artist that this album reminds me of, but also Larkin Poe, Bonnie Raitt and Susan Tedeschi specifically, because you have these big bluesy modern tracks, but you’re a picker as well. I think that changes the music, when the bones of it or the origins of it are coming from someone who’s an instrumentalist-performer-songwriter-vocalist.

I also think that’s part of why the music, even though it comes from a variety of genre backgrounds, feels so engaging and charming, because you can play around with those sounds freely. Even if you were just playing the songs solo, just you, yourself, and your instrument – whatever instrument that may be – they would still work, but they also work fully realized.

Can you talk a little bit about how being a picker informs you and inspires you as a songwriter and as a frontwoman?

You kind of already hit on it. From the outset every song starts with me and my instrument – and they usually start either like “Storm Brewing” in a tent in Utah or like “Getting High in Hotel Rooms” getting high in hotel rooms in Las Vegas. I sit down with an instrument and the music always comes first.

“Everything Is Fine” actually started as a more fingerstyle thing on my resonator [guitar]. I wrote the words and then I was feeling the chorus. The vibe is more rock, and I wanted a strumming electric guitar. So it can be malleable, but pretty much [most of the time] it’s like, “I wrote this riff on this instrument and now I’m gonna write some words to it.” Then, in the case of this album, I bring it to my touring band, who I trust immensely and we can collaboratively work, play around with it, and they give their input as well.

Let’s talk about the title track. “Hear My Call” is like Ola Belle Reed meets Gillian Welch meets modern, head-bobbing bluegrass mash. I love that. I thought it was interesting to pick this one as the title track, given that it’s one of a handful of string band songs on the record among many much “harder” sounding tracks. I wanted to know more about the inspiration behind it, choosing it as the title track, and having it be the keystone of the project. How did you write it and how did it all come together?

You know, I’m actually deeply dismayed to say that I don’t even remember when exactly I wrote this riff! I think I was on a very long, grueling West Coast tour, but you know the West Coast is also always filled with magic. I’m very partial to the nature and landscape out West. I would’ve definitely written the riff first and then I started just hearing this chorus over and over. I was playing it at soundchecks.

I guess I didn’t even think about choosing a song that best represents the album. I was struggling to name the album, just because it’s hard to do that. Do I choose another title or do I do a title track? But I actually chose it because this whole album [is about] the way I was mentally, the way I still am feeling about my place in music, my place in the world, and the general sort of comfort level I have with being exactly who I am.

I’m in a time of changing my energy from being an observer and a student of a lot of different cultures and musics, from looking at other people and taking all of that with deep gratitude, realizing that I have a story as well. The unique blend of things that make up my cultural history, and geographical history – all of those things I should be proud of and not uncomfortable with. Until the last couple of years, I was just uncomfortable with how complicated everything is in my my personal history and my musical influences and not knowing how to marry being a girl from Paris that went to Princeton with being someone who loves down-home music. I just spent [a lot of] time almost apologizing for things that I really can’t change [about myself].

“Hear My Call” is reflective of the shift that happened. Maybe it’s just growing into yourself and realizing I’m actually proud of where I’m from and I’m happy to have had the experiences I have. I have learned a lot from other people, but other people can maybe also learn from me. It’s not all just “take take take.” I can give something back. It’s an assertion of reclaiming space. That’s really what this song is about.

It’s interesting to hear you say that you’re giving yourself permission to be exactly who you are and love the music you love and make the music you make, because I think part of the “trad” music world is that we’re all policing ourselves all the time.

I actually didn’t realize it, but I think a lot of what influenced how I went into the studio [for this album] was that, around that time and a little before, I was delving deep back into the music I listened to when I was, let’s say, 11 to 18. After so many years of being a true student of the blues and then old-time – like, “I have to learn every tune and I have to read all the books!” Well, I wanted to. I went back into this music that felt so familiar and not being stupid and young anymore thinking, “I can’t listen to Blink-182, ‘cause it’s not cool.” I missed The Strokes and Bon Iver and Elliott Smith and all these things that, while I’ve always loved them, I kind of pushed to the wayside as all this new music came in, which is natural.

I loved this feeling around the time of doing this album of just reconnecting with my teenage self and remembering that that [music] has [also] informed the way I write. I want it to be just as present as someone that I discovered much later, like Gillian Welch. I’m hoping that mix comes across, to some extent.

I also wanted to ask about your “online community.” You have a huge social media following and you have so many amazing collaborators that you make content with. Personally, I think part of why you’re able to approach genre without being contained by categories is because you have built this direct-to-consumer business model. You’re directly interfacing with so many of your listeners, so none of them are gonna be surprised to see you code-switch on a project, genre-wise or sonically.

It jumped out at me that the way that you operate online – creating on your own terms with the door open and the window shades up so that everybody can be part of that process and also take ownership of it – must somewhat allow you to do what you want. You aren’t beholden to anybody but yourself, especially given that you’ve created this ecosystem and this community for yourself and your fans already know that’s what to expect from you.

Wow, I just love doing interviews, ‘cause I feel like when they’re insightful people like you they’re telling me things about myself! Because that’s so, so insightful and I have never thought about it that way!

So much has been dictated by circumstance or necessity – and partially just me being batshit crazy and honestly not scared of anything. [Laughs] Like, I would go on the beach in Venice, [California] when I lived there and busk. Instead of playing songs that would make me a lot of money, I played my own songs over and over and over, because I was like, “I’m playing my guitar. I need to get good at it. I think it’s cool and they’ll think it’s cool, too.”

When I first went on the road, I was like, “Well, I’m gonna bring my electric guitar, because my acoustic is gonna explode when I’m in Zion and Moab and all these crazy places.” I was on the road for six months in a tent, mostly. That was a big factor in choosing why a lot of my songs are performed on electric. Then I brought my banjo, ‘cause I liked it and I was like, “I don’t really care if it’s confusing, but I’m gonna like play my blues stuff.”

This is actually going to offend people if you print this, but I would play through my [Fender] Blues Junior and then I would just plug my banjo into it, because, “It’s an amplifier and it fucking works, so…” [Laughs] It didn’t sound that bad actually, to be honest with you, but yeah, I would be playing some random brewery somewhere that I’ve never been and I would go from playing Son House to “Angeline the Baker,” because that’s what I was learning at the time.

I guess in some ways, of course I’m like everyone else and I worry deeply about what people think of me and how I am perceived, but in other ways, I just don’t care. That can be really freeing. I think that’s carried over a little bit. I had experimented with paring myself down – “OK, I need to just be a blues player” and then I would show up to the gig and there would always be one or two people that were disappointed I didn’t bring the banjo. And vice versa when I just did the string band stuff, it felt like I was missing a huge part.

I mean there was no way I was gonna not play my guitar. That’s like my main instrument, but there was a time in Nashville where I was just playing with a string band and I didn’t ever play my resonator. I just played acoustic and the banjo. It didn’t feel complete. I don’t have it figured out. I don’t know that there is a “figuring out” that’s going to happen. I’m just gonna play what I like.

You contain multitudes!

Yes! Thank you, I try. [Laughs]

Photo Credit: Stacie Huckeba

10 of Our Favorite Roots Cellists

Posted on by Justin Hiltner

Though an uncommon encounter in the roots music scene, the BGS team will always applaud a roots, folk, bluegrass, or old-time cello moment. With velvety, rich tones and a unique percussive capacity, the cello deepens the flavor of every tune it encounters. While not considered a traditional bluegrass instrument, it carries an ancestry boasting many folk interweavings – and its proximity to both the upright bass and fiddle grant it a certain amount of creative leverage while integrating into roots music.

The cello’s undefined yet familiar positionality allows cellists an unconventional playing ground for innovation; without the same distinctly canonized roots traditions as say, the fiddle or the banjo, cellists can access a broadened range of textures and styles.

This list, though it is by no means comprehensive and is curated in no particular order, pays tribute to some of our favorite cellists in a variety of roots music contexts.

Leyla McCalla

A prolific multi-instrumentalist and multilingual singer, Leyla McCalla’s impact on the roots music scene continues to be nothing short of profound. An alumna of the GRAMMY-winning Black string band the Carolina Chocolate Drops and founding member of Our Native Daughters (alongside Allison Russell, Rhiannon Giddens, and Amythyst Kiah), McCalla also has five solo releases under her belt. She is the daughter of two Haitian immigrants and activists and her work is widely informed by Afrofuturist thinkers and Afro-diasporic musical influences. The 2022 recipient of the People’s Voice Award by Folk Alliance international, McCalla’s work has been recognized time and again for her deep commitment to ancestral study and social change.

More Leyla McCalla content here.

Mike Block

Ever seen a cellist perform standing up? If you have, they’ve probably heard of Mike Block. Among the inaugural wave of cellists to perform using a strap, Block was the first cellist to ever perform standing at Carnegie Hall and he did so using his own patented creation, the Block Strap.

Sonically, Block has also explored an expanded range of motion, as he is well known for his cross-cultural collaborations. While BGS fans may know him best from the Mike Block trio, his acoustic string band with Joe K. Walsh and Zachariah Hickman, Block also tours with an electric trio called Biribà Union, a duo with Indian tabla player Sandeep Das, a six-piece American/African fusion band, and the Silk Road Ensemble, a collective formerly spearheaded by fellow cello luminary Yo-Yo Ma. Block, astoundingly, has also released 20 albums of his own music, in addition to recording, performing, and arranging for other musical giants such as Miley Cyrus, Elton John, Raffi, and more.

Yo-Yo Ma

Perhaps one of the most renowned cello players of all time, Yo-Yo Ma is widely recognized for his feats in classical music. His discography includes over 120 albums (19 of which earned GRAMMYs), both paying tribute to the classical Western canon and forging revolutionary cross-cultural connections. One of our personal favorite examples here at BGS is Ma’s participation in the Goat Rodeo Sessions, a stellar 2011 collection of classical and Appalachian entwinements featuring Ma, Stuart Duncan, Edgar Meyer, and Chris Thile, with vocals from Aoife O’Donovan showcased as well. The result is nothing short of breathtaking – truly an original fusion of soundscapes that remained unparalleled until the supergroup’s release of their sequel album, Not Our First Goat Rodeo (2020).

Read our exclusive 2020 interview with Yo-Yo Ma on Not Our First Goat Rodeo.

Monique Ross

Hailing from Milwaukee, Wisconsin and now based in Nashville, cellist Monique Ross is one half of the dynamic sibling duo SistaStrings. She and her sister, Chauntee Ross (violin), blend their classical training with gospel, R&B, and folk influences to yield music that once again proves the age-old wisdom that there is nothing quite like sibling synastry. The pair’s vocal and instrumental prowess enrapture with both distinctive emotive execution and precise relationality. Both also perform as members of Brandi Carlile’s touring band and Carlile will serve as the producer for their upcoming project currently in the works.

Find more Monique Ross and SistaStrings here and here.

Larissa Maestro

Larissa Maestro is a Filipinx multi-hyphenate talent based out of Nashville, Tennessee. Named “Instrumentalist of the Year” at the 2022 Americana Music Awards, Maestro was the first cellist and the first member of the AAPI community to receive that honor. A composer and activist as well as a musician, Maestro arranges chamber music, co-founded a community orchestra (The Nashville Concerto Orchestra), and often fundraises for non-profit organizations through their craft.

Maestro’s ability to weave lush string arrangements into a vast array of genres positions them as a highly coveted collaborator, having worked alongside the likes of Hozier, Margo Price, Gillian Welch & David Rawlings, Ms. Lauryn Hill, John Legend, Allison Russell, and more as well as fronting and collaborating with various projects and bands.

Natalie Haas

Known for her impeccable traditional cello playing, Natalie Haas keeps centuries of Celtic traditions ablaze. She and Scottish fiddler Alasdair Fraser have toured together for twenty-three years, reviving and reimagining the tradition of cello/fiddle duets, popular in 18th and 19th century Scottish dance music. Though historically these duets featured a droning cello and melodic fiddle, Haas’s curiosity coupled with her virtuosity explore the cello as a dynamic instrument, capable of harmony, melody, percussion, and every blended iteration thereof. As Peter Winter once said, “Natalie basically wrote the book on the cello’s place in Celtic music.”

Read more about Natalie Haas and her collaboration with her sister, Brittany, here.

Ben Sollee

Ben Sollee is a Kentucky-based cellist and activist whose interdisciplinary work seeks to connect and elevate his communities. His most recent solo album, The Long Haul, interpolates both American influences and inspirations from the global south to deliver a dynamic album that, in part, processes the many griefs he faced during COVID’s inaugural years while maintaining a buoyant sense of resilience and growth. In addition to his innovative cello playing, Sollee works as a composer, having scored several films and the podcast “Unreformed.” Sollee has also recently helped spearhead a non-profit called Canopy to support local Kentucky businesses mindful of having a positive social and environmental impact on their community.

Read more about Sollee and The Long Haul here.

Nancy Blake

A pioneer for glimmers of cello in the modern American roots landscape, Nancy Blake is a cross-genre hero. Nancy began her relationship to the instrument at age 12 and grew up playing cello in the Nashville Youth Symphony. On a fortuitous day in 1972, her band Natchez Trace opened up for prolific picker Norman Blake. The two eventually married, and Nancy aptly fused her cello playing into Norman’s musical landscape. She also picked up several other more traditional roots instruments, such as guitar, fiddle, and upright bass, appearing on many of Norman’s releases throughout his career.

Joy Adams

Dr. Joy Adams is a versatile multi-instrumentalist, vocalist, composer, songwriter, and educator from Washington state who currently resides in Denver. While you may know her best from her extensive touring with Nataniel Rateliff, Darol Anger, and the all-women powerhouse group Big Richard, she has accrued a sprawling list of collaborators throughout her career. From recording on the Emmy award-winning soundtrack of The Queen’s Gambit to performing with the likes of Chick Corea, Kenny Loggins, Ben Folds, Waxahatchee, and more, Adams weaves energetic innovations into each of her collaborations.

Read our recent interview with Big Richard on their brand new album, Girl Dinner.

Casey Murray

Like many of our favorite cellists, Casey Murray is a talented educator in addition to their performance and compositional ventures. A Berklee grad based in the luscious roots scene of Boston, Murray finds much inspiration in blending Celtic, old-time, folk, classical, and improvisational sensibilities – like in their work with forward-looking string band Corner House. They particularly enjoy providing musical accompaniment for contra dances around the New England area, an exercise of their keen attunement to the rhythmic possibilities the cello has to offer.

Of course, even with ten incredible entries, our list of roots cellists barely scratches the surface of this vibrant community in folk, bluegrass, and beyond. With plenty of examples – like Rushad Eggleston, Nathaniel Smith, Kaitlyn Raitz, and many more – still to pull from, we’re already prepping a Part II to our roots cello exploration. Who would you include?

Photo Credit: Ben Sollee courtesy of Big Hassle; Leyla McCalla by Noé Cugny; Yo-Yo Ma by Austin Mann.

Ron Pope Chases His Dream On ‘American Man, American Music’

Posted on by Justin Hiltner

It may look rough around the edges, but Ron Pope’s journey through life encapsulates the American dream. He buffs out those spots, uncovering a hefty dose of humility, wisdom, and empowerment on his 11th studio record — American Man, American Music.

On it, the New Jersey-born, Georgia-raised singer uncovers moments from his childhood (like waking up before school to unload semi trucks) to the present day that have shaped him into the man he is and made his musical dreams a reality. But despite its title, the album is anything but exclusionary. Just like our nation’s diversity, American Man, American Music is a patchwork quilt of sounds, stories and experiences that serve to remind us that we’re all dealing with the same struggles and desires no matter what we look like or where we came from.

“I want to make music that other people can take and put into the moments in their lives,” says Pope. “The goal is that if I’m doing it right they’ll feel less alone. I want to put that back into the universe because I’ve taken so much of it out that it’s part of what buoyed me to get me to this point.”

This manifests itself in heartfelt vignettes centered around his family and recently discovered meaning of “home” on songs like the ode to his wife, “In The Morning With the Coffee On,” as well as “Mama Drove a Mustang,” an homage to his mom’s “let it ride” attitude that he wound up carrying into his own musical pursuits. But he’s also not afraid to get political on songs like “Klonopin Zombies,” a story about losing his grandmother that directly calls out the callousness of the pharmaceutical industry and sees him painfully pleading, “I swear there must be a heaven, ’cause where the hell else would someone like you go?”

Speaking by phone from his Nashville home between a mid-morning job and picking his daughter up from school, Pope spoke with BGS about home, family, platforming the next generation of artists and the experience that make up American Man, American Music.

You duet with Taylor Bickett on “I’m Not The Devil.” What spurred you to bring her aboard for it?

Ron Pope: Lately I’ve been finding so much inspiration in new artists. Growing up you tend to fetishize the stuff that came before you, almost like hero worship. Luckily I’ve come up in an era where so many of my contemporaries are masters, from Jason Isbell to John Moreland, which is really cool. But now I’m at a phase in my life where I’m getting more and more inspired by the artists coming in behind us. I remember first hearing Taylor’s songs, reading her lyrics, and seeing people making posts about sunsets and storms with her songs in them and was blown away. That’s what I love about music – you’re always finding new ways to be inspired.

What are your thoughts on the practice of platforming younger artists and what you stand to benefit from it as well?

If you make records your whole life, it’s going to be an ongoing challenge to find things that keep you engaged and excited about making music. It’s like a game that I’m always playing with myself. I want to find things about music that make me feel the way I did when I was a kid. Sometimes when people imagine an artist, they assume you’re only listening to people who sound like the same handful of songs that they know and that’s it, but I listen to all different sorts of music. Just the other night I was making pasta with my daughter in our kitchen listening to Dean Martin. On any given day I’ll move from that to some Tony Rice, Jason Isbell’s new song, Turnpike Troubadours, people like Taylor on Instagram, and then John Prine. I find inspiration everywhere and love that the music I make still feels fun and exciting because of it.

You just mentioned your daughter. I know family plays a big role on this record, from “In The Morning With the Coffee On,” to “Klonopin Zombies,” “Mama Drove a Mustang,” and others. Mind telling me about how that helps to serve as a through line on this project?

The central message is that we all share so many of the same sorts of experiences. For instance, in “Klonopin Zombies” I’m talking about this point in my life when my grandmother passed away eight days after my grandfather, leaving me wildly devastated. In life, we’re all going to experience powerful loss in that way; it’s just a matter of if it has happened to you yet or not. It’s the nature of living. My goal for doing that was to reach people on a more general level. If you are blessed enough to love people, then one day you will suffer because you lose people.

When I was first starting out, one of the complaints that music industry people would have about my music was that my songs were too specific and didn’t feel general enough, which was weird because for me those are the [kind of] songs that I always felt the most attached to.

Think about the Eagles’ – “Standing on the corner Winslow, Arizona/ Such a fine sight to see/ It’s a girl, my lord, and a flatbed Ford/ Slowin’ down to take a look at me…” or James Taylor’s – “Just yesterday morning, they let me know you were gone/ Suzanne, the plans they made put an end to you.” You’re in the room, but you don’t know who he’s talking to or why. It’s like, how many times in your life have you watched someone struggle with the expectations people put on them? Even though he’s telling a very personal and very specific story, you’re brought in and it reminds you that there’s a human being on the other end of this.

We got to go to all these places and meet a lot of people, and what I have found as I have done that is most people want the same things – they want opportunities for themselves and for their children. They want to know that they’re safe, and that their kids are safe and are going to get educated. We have a lot more in common than we do that separates us, which can be hard to see when you’re just watching videos of people yelling or complaining about how differently they believe your neighbor is.

How does that idea tie into the album’s title – American Man, American Music?

It’s inherently political to say “I am an American man and this is American music.” It’s inherently political, but I didn’t want to make something to bash people over the head, because it’s hard to write stories that are both protest songs that feel like they matter and are actually good songs. So I decided to, with the exception of “I Gotta Change (Or I’m Gonna Die)” – which is a pretty open rebuke of the pharmaceutical industry expresses my anger towards it about the opioid crisis – I try to speak in more sweeping terms and not focus in on the things that I was angry about, instead focusing more on humanity and openness.

I’m following myself from when I was a child in these stories all the way to this moment in my life. I’m singing about the car my mother drove when I was six years old in “Mama Drove a Mustang,” then I’m singing a little prayer for my family that I wrote while I was out on the road in “The Life In Your Years” or how my wife and I have been together for almost 18 years on “I Pray I’ll Be Seeing You Soon.” It makes me realize that I have lived the American dream.

I’m just a regular person from a blue-collar family born to very good-hearted, well-intentioned teenage parents who didn’t have a lot of resources and did their best with the opportunities that were in front of them. There was no reason to believe at the start of my story that I would end up in this place. All of that is in there because I am an American and I am an American man, and I am making American music, but I don’t mean any of that to be exclusionary. So many people that are using all of those words do so to exclude others and I have lived the American dream and want others to be able to do the same. On this album I wanted to focus on telling great stories that highlighted my journey and my humanity and what it took for me to get to this place where I got to as a way of showing that I don’t think it’s something that we should hold hostage. We should want other people to be able to reach these things in a nation built by immigrants on stolen land.

What does “home” mean to you – both as a physical place and as an idea – in relation to this album?

My mom loved us a lot, but we also moved often, which can be destabilizing. When I got to the point in my life where I was out on the road I almost felt engineered to do it, because I never had a real sense of home growing up. When I went on tour it felt like I was supposed to be there, which made it easy to wake up whether I was in Lincoln, Nebraska; Minneapolis, Milwaukee, Pittsburgh, or Pompano Beach. For a long time I thought you had to live that way to write songs.

At one point I was living in New York and hung out with my wife during a break from the road, who at that point I’d known since we were kids in Georgia, but had never dated. Suddenly everything changed and I started feeling her no matter where I was and yearned to be back in New York. I didn’t feel at ease unless I was with her, before realizing that she had become home for me. I’d never understood that homesick feeling that others get until then.

I feel that even more now with our little girl. It’s different, because my wife chose me and knew what I was and what I wasn’t, whereas we chose to bring our daughter into this world. Because of that I feel an even stronger pull from home than I have in the past because this little girl doesn’t care that I sing songs for people, and at the end of the day she doesn’t need that – she just needs me to be her father. It’s important that I’m able to make a living with my music, but it doesn’t make up for the fact that I wasn’t there to witness her losing her first tooth and other core memories. You have to grapple with that every day if you’re going to do this for a living. At the end of my life, if people say I’m a family man before they say I’m a musician, then I did it right.

What has the process of bringing American Man, American Music to life taught you about yourself?

There are points in the process of making any record where you look at yourself in the mirror and ask “Am I full of shit? Or can I actually land this thing?” The content on this album, what I’m talking about, it felt heavier and deeper than some of what I’ve done in the past. And I hate the idea of taking myself too seriously. At the end of the day, I’m an entertainer; everyone who makes music is supposed to be one, no matter how much they call themselves poets and stare at their expensive loafers oh-so-thoughtfully. Whether you’re Bob Dylan or Jackie Wilson or Tom Waits, at your core, you’re fundamentally the same as a clown or a breakdancer. Your job is to bring people joy, to entertain them. Walking around with this understanding has always made me sort of sick to my stomach whenever I find myself taking any of this noisemaking I do too seriously.

But on this album? I surprised myself. We are making music about serious things and I didn’t feel embarrassed or disgusted by it. It’s serious because it’s supposed to be serious; I’m not being a self-important asshole. Somebody needs to talk about the opioid epidemic and no one else was doing it in a way that I felt satisfied with. I did it because I felt like I had to, not to feed some inflated notion I had of myself as a capital A “artistè.” So I guess I learned that I’m not full of shit. Or at least, not entirely full of shit.

Photo Credit: Blair Clark