Tag: Americana

Queen Esther Made a Civil War Album Unlike All the Rest

Posted on by Justin Hiltner

Civil War albums are all too common in roots music, bluegrass, country, and Americana. Usually, these concept projects romanticize and valorize one of the darkest periods in our nation’s history, while cheerfully and cartoonishly detached from reality and untethered from the nuances of this horrifying and violent period of tumult in the U.S. Revisionism and imperialism are enacted by fiddles and banjos in loose, contrived musical period garb.

Audiences seem to devour this kind of idyllic reimagination of the Civil War and the issues that gave rise to it. Though chattel slavery and its foundational role in our economy were central to the conflict, Civil War concept albums rarely interrogate those facts, instead leaning on listeners’ love for story songs and cursory understanding of “brothers against brothers” narrative paradigms to sell records and tickets. The sketchiness of this practice is overlooked across the board, perhaps due to the sheer ubiquity of such efforts.

On February 6, artist, musician, songwriter, actor, and playwright Queen Esther released a very different sort of Civil War album, Blackbirding. Enabled by a grant from The National Parks Arts Foundation, Queen Esther worked and lived in residence at Gettysburg National Military Park in Gettysburg, Pennsylvania, for a month in 2020. During that time, she communed with the land, the place, and the losses and griefs seeped into the blood-soaked soil, plumbing stories, myths, memory, and feelings to craft her 12-song reckoning with the Civil War. Original songs, songs from that time period, and fascinating covers combine into a work of roots music and theater, dramatization and storytelling interwoven with knowledge-bearing and memory-keeping.

Queen Esther being a Southern Black feminist multi-hyphenate creative is exactly why Blackbirding stands out among its peers in the curséd Civil War concept album space. There is no idealization or revisionism happening in Queen Esther’s songs. Instead, there’s a tangible humanity and an awe-inspiring alchemy of grief, loss, and crimes against humanity into beautiful, redemptive music.

Queen Esther first brought Blackbirding into the world as a piece of performance art with a staged reading in 2024. Even now, in its LP form, these songs lean forward, doing narrative work perceptible whether on stage or off, and coaxing listeners to abandon passive listening and – as all theater asks – inhabit a third, artistic, creative space together in our interaction with these compositions.

The central point of the album is made over and over again across the 12 tracks and throughout our lengthy and in-depth BGS conversation. “Blackbirding,” the 19th-century practice of kidnapping free Black folks and selling them into slavery or back into slavery, never really went away. The Civil War was not won. Reconstruction failed. Slavery itself was not abolished, but rebranded. As such, Blackbirding, whether from the perspective of its content or its genre aesthetics, isn’t a throwback or time capsule album. This is music made in the present, for the present, about the present, and it calls on all of us – again, in the present – to reckon with and consider how we each contribute to or act in defiance of the continuation of racial apartheid and imperialism in the United States.

Do not fear, though, because Queen Esther’s approach to such musicmaking is remarkably joyous, grounded, and compassionate. It’s clear she’s not only ready to engage in the conversations this music evokes, but that is exactly her purpose. And the ultimate culmination of her many talents. In this way, she yet again distinguishes herself from other such concept albums in Americana.

I’ve been a fan of yours for a few years, ever since we discovered your TED Talk. When I first watched it, it was so revelatory. It felt like you supplied vocabulary – and knowledge and expertise – that I wish I would’ve had my whole life to help describe the multi-ethnic origins of roots music and bluegrass and country. If all of this came from “Scotch-Irish tradition,” then why does bluegrass sound like bluegrass? Why does country sound like country? Why doesn’t it sound like Irish music or Scots music or music from the British Isles? It sounds different.

I just wanted to start by saying thank you for that talk – and thank you for all of the insight, feeling, and emotion that you bring to these intellectual topics that people tend to forget are about real humans, real experiences, and real music.

Queen Esther: Absolutely. I really appreciate you saying that. I think more often than not, Black people have these conversations amongst ourselves. We wait until the door is closed and then we talk. I think we should have more conversations with everyone in the room. As long as they’re willing to listen. That’s a tall order. Much more so than you would think.

I’m really happy about this album, especially because people are starting to have conversations around the songs, topics, and everything that I’m bringing up. The fact is that slavery has never ended. It was just modified. The Civil War has never ended. It just evolved. “Blackbirding” has never ended. It just got a lot more inclusive.

Those three things are standing in the way of America being America. There is the America that is on paper – the one that is in the brochure with the Statue of Liberty, the flag behind it, and mom, and apple pie, and all of this stuff. And none of it is true. It’s all a marketing ploy. The actual America that really exists, that’s the one that Black people have had to endure and survive for hundreds of years. That’s the America that turned its back on us.

You know as well as I do that there are so many Civil War albums in bluegrass, folk, string band music, and Americana. So many are built upon the revisionist history that you’re talking about. The manicured, sanitized “picket fence and 2.5 kids” version of the “American Dream.” So, normally when I get a pitch about an album like this, it just goes straight to my email archive. Knowing you and knowing your work – and especially the way that you bring theater and all of your multi-hyphenate titles into crafting and creating – I was so excited to have a chance to talk about approaching the Civil War and approaching Gettysburg as an inspiration for music.

Blackbirding is set in the present. You’re talking about how slavery never went away, how reconstruction failed, and how the Civil War was not won. You’re contextualizing this art in the present sonically, as well. Because, like you’re saying, the Civil War never ended, slavery never ended, blackbirding never ended. Can you talk a little bit about placing all of this discourse in the present and not just in period garb, as it were?

I have to say perspective is a powerful thing. As a Black woman, as a Southerner, as someone that’s two generations removed from slavery, as a creative, I never heard any of this told from a Black perspective. It was always “the lost cause”: “These Yankees came and they just attacked us from out of nowhere. We were living this beautiful life and they just ruined everything.” When nothing could be further from the truth.

They literally terrorized Black people. They tore us apart, they raped our children. They did all manner of evil constantly, under the guise of Christianity. And it was even uglier than anyone would dare to imagine. Which is why they’re struggling to hide Black history, to hide lost history, to make sure that it stays lost. To not have anyone like me turn over the rock to see what’s underneath.

At the same time, these songs from minstrelsy, these songs from not that long ago, they’re important songs. They should be rediscovered. The problem that I’ve always had is that once you have that technical prowess as a musician and once you plumb the depths with that music, no one was bringing that music forward into the present. Not unless they were … putting it in a historical context, and that’s important, but to bring it into the now [is just as important]. …

Having a sense of intellectual curiosity, it’s really important. It doesn’t matter that you’re not the smartest, but that you are curious intellectually and that you are brave enough to explore that curiosity is way more important. That’s really my bedrock. That’s where I’m coming from now.

I’m a generative performing artist. … We are the ones who generate our work and we perform that work. Some people don’t necessarily perform their work. They just write it or they create it and they’re looking for other people to do the work, to perform the work, so that they can get their work out there. Lots of songwriters like that. Lots of lyricists are like that. That’s beautiful. That’s great. …

The songs would come to me, they would just float up in my head. It’s like a patchwork quilt. You take all these different kinds of fabric and all these bits and pieces. But you’re making this mosaic that turns into this overall image that is bigger than whatever bits and pieces you brought to it in the first place.

Talking about that mosaic, it makes me think that of course we would end up at this point, with a project like this, with a conversation like this, and with a body of work that couldn’t have been made if you had tried to step outside of yourself or your own identity to make it.

Exactly. All of that fueled me. I was reaching out in different genres, not just musically, but in the world. I was doing a lot of alternative theater, I was doing cabaret. I was doing performance art, I was doing solo performance. I was doing storytelling. I’d get up on stage and I would do just about anything. That was a world in and of itself.

Now, after a certain point, when you’re a generative performing artist, you’re looking for grants so that you can develop the work in general. It takes seven to nine years to develop a musical. It takes five to seven years to develop a play. When you see someone go, “Oh yeah, my new play, it’s up.” They put in a heavy grind! That’s five years of rewrites and workshops and readings. Some theater taking them on with their theater company and developing that work until it was ready for a test audience, not even necessarily ready [to open]. It’s just a lot of hard work and a lot of heavy lifting. There are certain grants that make that possible, where you just have to go away and you have to write and create.

I found a grant that would let me do that with this album through the National Park Service. The National Parks Arts Foundation has grants to at least a dozen National Parks. You can go to the park, you can live on the park, and they will pay you.

This project is also a work of theater. What jumped out to me first and foremost in that regard is what you’re talking about – the residency, the grant, being on location. Bluegrass, roots music, country music, they all ask us to be in a place together, but not in the same way that theater does. Theater is very much created so the audience are not passive participants. It actively invites listeners and collaborators and bystanders into a space and into a place.

You are doing that with this body of work – and with your residency at Gettysburg. I thought that was one of the most fascinating things about this project. Using theater, with a capital T, to help do that work of transporting all of us to the battlefield, to Gettysburg, to the geographical place that you are evoking with these songs.

I’ve been doing theater ever since I could stand up straight. Think about the cavemen, just standing in front of their brethren and telling a story about what happened to them that day. If my grandmother were here right now and in on this conversation, she’d tell you that I was telling stories ever since I could talk. I would just make things up. She would be sitting there washing dishes and I would try to distract her by making up something wild or crazy or imaginative. I don’t know, I just gotta say something to make her drop that dishcloth or at least laugh or something. [Laughs]

What is fantastic realism? Fantastic realism is when you have ordinary circumstances and then something extraordinary just pops right in. … So the idea of theatricalizing whatever was happening around me as a little kid, [that’s fantastic realism]. If we were sitting here at a table talking, for example, and then an elephant came along and took the hat off your head – that kind of a thing. Just the outrageous Southern tall tale. Bombastic storytelling is always floating just beyond your reach, I think, as a Southerner. It’s just how we do.

And of course, like everything in the South, this is an African tradition. This is an oral tradition handed down from West Africa. West African traditions [are] something else that people have a really hard time saying out loud and acknowledging. It’s not that other cultures didn’t tell stories, but our influence as Africans, as enslaved Africans, of our African ancestors on the South and on America, is seismic. It’s time for people to make the shift however small, however great, and center that and acknowledge it. They can’t even acknowledge it. …

I’m going to tell you a story. I almost always start [performances] with, “You wanna hear a story? I got a story to tell you.” Sometimes I’ll sing it, sometimes I’ll say it with music happening around me or behind me. But this is a story that you’re gonna want to hear. And every single song on [Blackbirding] is wrapped up in a story. There’s a story that’s around it that’s historical. There’s a story that resonates into the now, and there’s a story that I bring to you as an audience when I’m performing the song itself.

I’m thinking about how there’s so much music made in these genre spaces that is also putting on a costume, or telling a story, or doing theater, but that often isn’t grounded in reality at all. It’s all construction. So where some people might interface with your art and think, “Oh, this is a musical, this is theater, this is going to be a play, this is going to be ‘make believe.’” It’s actually so much further from that.

Oh no, it’s reality!

Exactly. And to me, that’s the whole story here. The thing I wanted to talk about most about Blackbirding is the point that you made right at the top – and that you’ve made throughout this conversation. You’re not talking about something that was happening a while ago and isn’t happening today.

Look, the 13th Amendment said slavery’s over “except.” Except? That’s a gigantic loophole. Except for what? Except for incarceration. That means if you’re incarcerated, you’re a slave. What if someone said to you, “You’re fired except on Tuesdays”? Then I’m not fired. You have to come in on Tuesday for four hours. Other than that you’re fired. You don’t work here. How much sense does that make? No one would hear an employer say that and go, “Am I fired or not?” Am I free or not?

You are free. Except they had to make that exception. They had to. Why? Because when the Civil War ended, this country was in absolute shambles. And because Black people were the actual currency. There were 4 million of us and we were basically worth trillions in today’s money.

We went off and we started our own little hamlets and towns, and we started working for ourselves. Suddenly there was this massive tilt. Black people were the money and had all of these resources, energy, and power. And just by sheer force of will, we started building for ourselves, which is why they started tearing us down. Showing up to each and every single community and just murdering people, burning people [alive] in their homes. Coming up with all of these lies built on pseudoscience to justify all of the things that they did. …

But it never ended. Pulling Black people over on the road, out in the middle of nowhere for no reason whatsoever. Beating them up. Maiming them, murdering them in some instances. This has always been the way. This has always been the case.

I’m imagining you on site at Gettysburg. How do you take that sort of emotional devastation or the intrinsic triggering and challenging nature of these topics and turn them into something beautiful? Do you see them as beautiful to begin with? I’m trying to imagine how you take care of yourself emotionally and psychically as you’re doing this important work. Because I think there must be an emotional toll to it, but you clearly are built for it as well. This feels like your wheelhouse – and the way you talk about it and the comfortability you have in having these conversations.

Simple. I am not an atheist. I am not an agnostic. I believe in God. I believe in Jesus. I’m a Christian, and I know that God is with me. I feel God’s presence upon me. I feel God hovering over me, protecting me divinely. I feel that I’m walking in divine purpose and in divine order. I know that I am divinely protected, that the blood of Jesus covers me everywhere I go. …

There’s this point at which inspiration takes over. There’s a point at which you are no longer there, and inspiration is there instead. An actor prepares– the idea is that you have technique, right? Your technique is there whether you’re playing an instrument or singing or washing the dishes or driving the car.

Let’s say driving the car. I don’t know how to drive. So, every time I get behind the wheel and the car is moving, even if it’s moving slightly, I’m screaming like a banshee. I’m so excited. But when I get in a car [with my partner], he just does what he’s been doing. He doesn’t think about it. He adjusts the window here and he readjusts this here, he puts the key in, and he does all of these dozen or more motions. He just does it automatically.

That’s the idea. When you make art, when you’re on stage, when you’re performing, when you’re creating, there has to be something that takes over. Inspiration takes over. Once you’ve got the technique, set the technique, learning how to drive the car, what do you do? Something else takes over. And I’m telling you, that’s something else for me, personally, is not my ego. For me, that’s the Holy Spirit.

I remember when I got to the house [at Gettysburg], everything was explained to me, and they gave me the keys. I’m sitting there in the parlor, I’m arranging everything, and it’s still light outside. I thought, “You know what? Why not?” I took my camera and I walked to Devil’s Den. The first song that I wrote was “The Devil May Care (But Jesus Knows).” I came back and I wrote that down like I was writing someone a letter. It just poured right out of me.

I can’t even begin to explain the process. I wrote it down and I wrote down the chords. I shaped it around everything that I did and I thought, “This is a complete song.” What is that song about? It’s about Devil’s Den, the Valley of Death, which is what they called that area in between Devil’s Den and Little Round Top. These soldiers would climb into Devil’s Den, which is these hulking, gigantic rocks. There was this big snake that lived there. It was huge. They called it the devil. It was so huge, it was as big around in the middle as a grown man’s waist. There were children that liked to play around that rock, so the townspeople got up the courage and killed it.

They would climb inside of that perfect coverage for a sniper and they would shoot Yankee soldiers that they could [see] from Little Round Top and they would fall into the Valley of Death. That was a run, Plum Creek – a run is a creek – and it was so filled with blood they just called it a bloody run. From where the creek started, all the way past the house that I lived in, all the way through that valley of death, was just nothing but human blood.

To be a soldier caught in [Devil’s Den] meant that you could not be saved. Someone would have to come and get you if you were wounded. More often than not, those soldiers died, not because they were shot and they fell down and they died. They died because no one came to get them. They died because they were wounded and the wounds got infected and they just bled out or [succumbed].

That Valley of Death comes for you, not just at the end of your life. It comes for you at any given moment, at any crisis that you have. Over and over and over again.

Can you talk a little bit about how you approached genre on these songs? Because I really love that you didn’t make a “time capsule” record that’s trying to sound like it came from the 1800s. At the same time, you’re collapsing time musically and creatively so that you can draw on those textures and on those sort of old-timey elements to do that storytelling for you, sonically. How did the production process actually look or feel as you were putting this collection together?

I think that when you have a kid or when you give birth to a kid, you just let that kid be the kid. You’re not sitting there going, “I want this kid to be this,” or “I want this kid to be that.”

That’s a really good metaphor. Just let them be themselves.

And what you’re doing, really, is sitting back and waiting to see what that kid turns into. You have no idea how they got so great at math. This kid is a mathematician. You can’t balance your checkbook. This kid is just explosively running in this whole other direction that you can’t even fathom. You have no idea what your children will do, what they will become. And none of it really has anything to do with you.

It’s the same thing. These songs came to me and when they came to me, sometimes fully formed, I literally wrote down what I heard in my head. And that really is it. Each song is its own world. I just let the song be what it is, whatever it is. However it came to me, I just let it be what it is.

I consider myself to be a transcriber of the song. I’m sitting there. The song is in my head and I’m just writing it down as quickly as possible. I’m someone with a butterfly net chasing the butterfly through the jungle. I’m running after the butterfly and I’m hoping that it doesn’t get away. It’s fluttering. It’s right above my head. Sometimes I capture it, sometimes I don’t. My job as a producer is to make sure that song sounds exactly the way it did in my head.

Even the cover songs, the Olivia Newton John song, “Magic.” When Olivia Newton John is singing that, it’s one way. It’s interesting. But I’m a Black woman and I’m singing that about my ancestors, and my family, and all of us in community. It turns into a completely different song.

You have to believe that we’re magic. Nothing can stand in our way. You have to believe that because, ultimately really, Black people never thought we were supposed to survive any of this.
Toni Morrison says that in an infamous speech that she gave, we were not just supposed to survive any of it. …

When the song comes, it comes as it comes. I knew that I had the goods as a producer, because the song sounded in the room the way they did in my head. That’s the best feeling. But moreover, more than anything else, you have to develop your own aesthetic. You have to know what’s good, what’s not good, and why. You have to know your own mind. You have to know your own aesthetic. And you have to have the courage and the willpower to stand on it.

Photo Credit: Whitney Browne

You Gotta Hear This: New Music From John R. Miller, Eilen Jewell, and More

Posted on by Justin Hiltner

Welcome to another edition of our weekly roundup of new roots music! You Gotta Hear This…

First up, country singer-songwriter Erin Gibney gives us a preview of a brand new version of “Risk It,” one of the first true love songs she had ever written. In this iteration, it’s stripped back to a more simple and acoustic approach, but still with a pop country sheen and plenty of big, energetic moments. Also in country, Carly King has announced her upcoming album, Loving You Is Easy, with a lovely and tender lead single, “Three Martinis.” King wrote the song about a fated trip to New York City where she fell in love with the man who would become her fiancé. It’s full of memories, nostalgia, and lush with imagery of falling head over heels, all wrapped in a cozy and gauzy folk-country package.

In the bluegrass world, North Carolina’s Unspoken Tradition highlight their working-class bluegrass bent with a new single, “Company Man,” which celebrates and interrogates the reality of blue-collar, hard working folks in this day and age. As they describe it, “The song tells the story of a man who seems to live to work, not work to live. There’s pride in that, but also a sense of stoic sadness.” Also speaking to the social and political climate of today, folk artist and singer-songwriter Eilen Jewell has released her own version of Woody Guthrie’s important and sadly still applicable song, “Deportee.” Jewell’s rendition is twangy, honky-tonking, and plaintive, drawing inspiration from the first time she ever heard the song as a teenager. She tells us that story – and about how the number has “haunted” her since – below.

Roots music fans will also enjoy watching singer-songwriter Adam Klein perform “Burnin’ Love,” an original song, in a brand new music video. Previously released in 2015, Klein returned to the track with collaborator Adam Poulin for a simple duo, acoustic reimagination of the song, which Klein wrote while on a Peace Corps mission in Mali in West Africa. And be sure you don’t miss a brand new single – and live performance video, to boot! – from West Virginian Americana troubadour John R. Miller. “If You Could Only See Me Now” is Miller’s take on a song written by a dear friend and musical compatriot, William Matheny. It’s another two-stepping, honky-tonk ready track perfect for sliding across the shiny floorboards or leaving a tear in your beer. Miller inhabits the lyric intuitively, with languid and laid back phrasing while the lyric, fiddle, and pedal steels pull him along.

There’s plenty to listen to and love. You Gotta Hear This!

Erin Gibney, “Risk It (Stripped)”

Artist: Erin Gibney
Hometown: Southington, Connecticut and Nashville, Tennessee
Song: “Risk It (Stripped)”
Release Date: April 3, 2026
Label: Rock Ridge Music

In Their Words: “I wrote this song after meeting my now-fiancé and it is one of the first true love songs I have ever written. ‘Risk It’ really describes the feeling of falling in love knowing that it could either end in marriage or the greatest heartbreak of your life. During the beginning of the relationship, I felt all the fears and excitement that come in the early stages of love. I brought this experience to Kipp Williams when we began working together and this became the first song we created. It was so much fun to not only try something new with my sound, but explore new themes in my music. This song is so close to my heart and I can’t wait for the world to hear this reimagined version of it!” – Erin Gibney

Track Credits:
Kipp Williams – Producer, songwriter, all instruments
Erin Gibney – Vocals, songwriter

Eilen Jewell, “Deportee”

Artist: Eilen Jewell
Hometown: Boise, Idaho
Song: “Deportee”
Release Date: March 24, 2026
Label: Signature Sounds

In Their Words: “I first heard ‘Deportee’ when I was a teenager. I can’t recall which version it was, but I remember I was babysitting a little girl who was about six years old. She put it in the CD player, cranked it up, and started singing along loudly in a sweet and mournful tone. I could tell it really resonated with her so I listened closely and realized it resonated with me too – the grief in the sudden separation of friends, the ripping away of a shared humanity – it’s haunted me ever since. I’ve heard just about every version of it there is, searching for one as anguished as the one in my memory of that night with the little girl howling along.

“My search never yielded one that quite fit so I altered the song a bit by putting it in a minor key and choosing only the verses that felt closest to the bone. It’s disheartening to think that Woody Guthrie wrote ‘Deportee’ nearly 80 years ago and it still rings true. What can I do but join him in fighting fascism the only way I know how? With my conscience, with my guitar, with my voice.” – Eilen Jewell

Track Credits:
Eilen Jewell – Acoustic guitar, vocals
Jason Beek – Drums, vocals
Jerry Miller – Electric guitar
Matt Murphy – Upright bass

Carly King, “Three Martinis”

Artist: Carly King
Hometown: New Jersey and Nashville, Tennessee
Song: “Three Martinis”
Album: Loving You Is Easy
Release Date: March 25, 2026 (single); May 15, 2026 (album)
Label: First City Artists

In Their Words: “I wrote this song about the first time I went to New York with my fiancé, who at the time was my boyfriend of one month and my brother’s best friend of 15 years. We stayed in a tiny hotel room and spent the whole day wandering Manhattan, falling in love, and ducking into dive-y music shops. I found a guitar I fell in love with and bought it and we carried it around the city all day – well, mostly he did. I remember feeling how simple and lucky everything was. Later, over martinis at the Carlyle Hotel (my namesake), guitar beside us, we talked deeply about our past, our families, and our future, and I knew I wanted to build a life with him around music. This song is the first date – it’s the taxi cab that takes you into the album.” – Carly King

Adam Klein, “Burnin’ Love”

Artist: Adam Klein
Hometown: Tucker, Georgia
Song: “Burnin’ Love”
Album: Live at Leesta Vall Sound Recordings
Release Date: April 3, 2026
Label: Cowboy Angel Music

In Their Words: “This album is a mix of previously released and unreleased songs. ‘Burnin’ Love’ was originally released on my 2015 album, Archer’s Arrow, with a full band presentation. Here, like all the songs on this new record, it’s stripped back to just acoustic guitar, vocals, and violin. But it still feels like it packs a punch. It randomly occurred to me to play it on tour in this duo format a couple nights before the session at Leesta Vall, so it’s fresh and a bit off the cuff. If the Archer’s Arrow version gave a nod to Neil Young & Crazy Horse in the sound of the electric guitar, somehow Adam Poulin’s fiddle playing here achieves something similar in its abandon.

“The song itself was written on my first full day in the village I lived in for two years during my Peace Corps service in rural Mali in West Africa. I was listening to the metal roof of my two-room mud house crackle from the blistering sunlight and questioning all my decisions – did I really want to spend two years here on my own in this curious land? It all loomed before me like a joke. I remember thinking of the feeling of solitude and emptiness that accompanies the end of love, and channeled it into this two-chord song.” – Adam Klein

Track Credits:
Adam Klein – Acoustic guitar, vocals
Adam Poulin – Violin, vocals

Video Credits: Filmed and edited by Jeff Shipman.

John R. Miller, “If You Could Only See Me Now”

Artist: John R. Miller
Hometown: West Virginia
Song: “If You Could Only See Me Now”
Release Date: March 27, 2026
Label: Rounder Records

In Their Words: “I’ve been fortunate to collaborate with William Matheny for a majority of my musical life at this point. Probably 15 years or so now, definitely in the widest variety of musical situations. The first time I saw him play at 123 Pleasant Street in Morgantown, West Virginia, in 2004 I passed out on a bench and somehow remembered his set that night. I’d get to meet him a few years later and we’ve been playing shows together ever since.

“William’s been playing in bands since he was in the single digits, and his body of work as a songwriter is huge and detailed, with recurring motifs and great riffs. His way of zooming in on the minutiae of viscerally familiar settings in his writing is something I have always admired, and his songs are imbued with literary and philosophical references that reward repeated listening.

“This is my take on a country song of his, one that we recorded some years back for his album That Grand, Old Feeling. I’ve always loved this song, feels like some unearthed forgotten classic country gem every time I hear it. It’s an evocative, tongue-in-cheek ode to the gutter that reads like a drunk postcard to a lost loved one back home.” – John R. Miller

“I’ve played a lot of music with John R. Miller over the years. Sometimes it was my band, sometimes it was his, and sometimes it was something else entirely. When the subject comes up, I usually tell people that we’ve been giving each other the same hundred dollars back and forth for 15 years. I say that completely in jest, of course. We’ve only recently started making that kind of money. When John played [the song] for me, I was incredibly flattered. I mean, it’s certainly not as if he’s hurting for material. On a completely selfish level, I got a huge kick out of hearing such a great singer interpret it and the Tulsa players putting their own spin on it.

“I love songs that bury the lede on the listener a little bit. Stuff like Tom Waits’ ‘Christmas Card From a Hooker in Minneapolis,’ Tom T. Hall’s ‘The Homecoming’ or ‘The Green, Green Grass of Home’ by Tom Jones. I didn’t want to let guys named Tom have all the fun, so I wrote this.” – William Matheny

Unspoken Tradition, “Company Man”

Artist: Unspoken Tradition
Hometown: Western North Carolina
Song: “Company Man”
Release Date: March 27, 2026
Label: Mountain Home Music Company

In Their Words: “When Unspoken Tradition first started trying to find our niche, we branded ourselves as ‘working class bluegrass.’ Though we’ve grown and evolved, that is still very much who we are. ‘Company Man’ perfectly exemplifies this slogan. Our nation was built by folks just like the man portrayed in this song. I’ve known and was even raised by a few of them. I’d like to think that the men and women this song was written about would appreciate our music.

“The song tells the story of a man who seems to live to work, not work to live. There’s pride in that, but also a sense of stoic sadness. The lines, ‘Only thing waiting is a watch and chain’ and, ‘Old men are really what the company makes’ hit so hard, and could have only been written by Tim Stafford and Mark Bumgarner. These guys are two incredibly talented songwriters and we’re honored they shared this song with us. Evoking images of the hard-working people we all know and love, this song is a bittersweet reminder to work hard but not make work your master.” – Audie McGinnis

Track Credits:
Audie McGinnis – Acoustic guitar, lead vocal
Sav Sankaran – Upright bass, harmony vocal
Tim Gardner – Fiddle, harmony vocal
Ty Gilpin – Mandolin
Zane McGinnis – Banjo

Photo Credit: John R. Miller by Larry Nieuhes; Eilen Jewell by Damu Malik.

Joshua Burnside’s It’s Not Going To Be Okay is an Absolutely Shattering Album

Posted on by Justin Hiltner

Irish folksinger Joshua Burnside has always shown an affinity for expressing grief, once calling it the reason he began writing songs as a precocious 13-year-old. He’s 36 now, and that sense of grief has never felt as overt as it does on his latest music. Burnside’s It’s Not Going To Be Okay is absolutely shattering, an album that more than lives up to its title. Written and recorded in the wake of the death of Burnside’s best friend Dean Jendoubi, who died of a drug overdose in August of 2024, the album is a bittersweet requiem.

Burnside’s previous albums combined Irish folk with electronic flourishes, worldly rhythms, and elements of sonic collage. His multi-layered experimentation reached a peak with 2025’s Teeth of Time, a record that felt like a major statement and milestone. Barely a year later, It’s Not Going To Be Okay could almost be his Nebraska move – bare-bones stark with minimal embellishment, focused on unadorned voice and guitar in the service of deep, deep mourning.

It’s a state of mind where everything brings back memories of the departed, like the opening of “The Last Armchair”:

Oh, the last armchair you ever sat on
Before you overdosed
Is the one I sit in every morning
To eat my egg and toast…

Ahead of the album’s release on March 20, 2026, we caught up with Burnside for a Zoom interview about his musical past, present and future plans.

It’s Not Going To Be Okay is quite a title. How did that come to be the name of this body of work?

Joshua Burnside: These songs are about the inevitability of pain, suffering, and death, which is what I was dealing with while accepting the loss of my friend. But it was at least a little bit tongue-in-cheek, too, such a ridiculously depressing statement to make. I thought it would be funny in a way. In Northern Ireland, we have a very strong sense of gallows humor. So I was drawing on that a wee bit. I don’t think it’s supposed to be taken literally.

How did you and Dean Jendoubi first meet?

Our paths crossed briefly in school and then we met playing music. Formed a band with a few other people. He and I were maybe 14 and got on immediately. Then there was a trio when we were 16. He played drums, I played guitar, and another friend played bass. We didn’t really gig, just played for the fun of it at his parents’ house. He was a great musician and songwriter himself. His music is amazing and beautiful and weird and dark, like him in many ways. He released a few EPs. The last one is called Skin Hunger and I sing on one of those tracks. Recorded in his mum’s greenhouse, our summer shed 10 years ago.

Since it’s been not much more than a year since Teeth of Time was released, when did you make It’s Not Going To Be Okay?

My sense of time has been so terrible the last few years. It was maybe a few months after Dean passed away in 2024, which is strange to say now. So, end of 2024 is when I started writing and recording and I finished it up autumn of 2025. I was recording it as I was writing it, and the last song I wrote was “It’s Not Going To Be Okay.” It was in the last month of making the record that that one happened.

Is it unusual for you to be working ahead like that, on the next record before the last one was even released?

It’s not typical. It was five years between Teeth of Time and Into the Depths of Hell. That one was a similar dark-humor title, but then COVID hit not long after I’d written those songs. That was some strangely perfect timing. So no, it’s not really normal for me to write and record this quickly. But I just felt an urgency, because one of the main ways I’ve always processed painful feelings is writing and singing about them.

The songs came quickly and easily. I had not planned to focus on just one topic, but most of what came out happened to be that. It felt natural to have them all together like this, almost like a grief journal. That’s the story. A lot of people thought some songs on Teeth of Time had been about Dean’s passing, but they were all written before that. Some of those songs seem resonant with this new record. That seems to happen to me a lot, I’ll write a song and then it seems like life imitates it. If I were not of sound mind, I’d start to worry about ever writing anything tragic or sad.

Was it your intention from the start for this one to be so sonically spare?

Absolutely. I’d been listening to Bill Callahan and Smog, A River Ain’t Too Much To Love. I love how sparse his records are – guitar and cymbal and voice – and they’re still so alive and rich. So sparse, you hang on every word. His voice is so clear. I wanted to do something like that.

Teeth of Time had a lot going on, so I wanted to go with more of a less-is-more principle. See if I could make the songs simpler, almost minimalist, and keep attention with straightforward and very to-the-point lyrics. So I challenged myself. Before that, I was almost hiding behind production and layered instruments. I’d maybe felt a little insecure. But after all these years, I’m feeling more confident.

What has the response been to this record and these songs?

It’s been interesting. I’ve already been playing a lot of these songs live, and so many people come up afterward to say how they lost a friend, dad, uncle, and how much it means to them to connect with my music in a time of grief. That’s powerful, makes me think it’s worthwhile to make music and do this at all. It’s special. I feel a great responsibility not to take this lightly.

I did send the album to Dean’s family, my family, his closest friends, to make sure it’s okay and wouldn’t upset anyone to put this out in the world. My brother and dad knew Dean as well and they told me they couldn’t finish it at first. Just too painful. It took them a while to come around to it. It’s so raw for people who knew him. A bit of an emotional whirlwind in general.

Touring with a record this intimate and personal seems like it would be challenging. Does it feel like you’re delving into difficult feelings every night?

Actors have an ongoing debate about performance technique, whether you should act an emotion or actually feel it. I think it’s similar to performing as a musician. I don’t know what’s more correct or authentic, but the main thing seems to be to stay present in the moment. Playing these songs does make me revisit those feelings a little bit. But I have to be careful with that because I only have so much emotional bandwidth. In performance, I try to remain as present as possible with the feeling of the song, the melody, sound of the words, and craft of the song, as opposed to tapping directly into the original emotion. Sometimes I’ll do that and it’s powerful. But I can’t do that the whole gig or every night, because then touring would be too much.

How many of these It’s Not Going To Be Okay songs will be in your every-show setlist this go-round?

I’ve been toying with the idea of playing all of it start to finish. I was thinking of it that way while writing these songs, how I wanted to play every track and have it hold up even if it was just me. I need to get into the rehearsal room with my bandmates to see if we can crack it. Would be nice to make some different arrangements with electric guitar and cello. We’re a three-piece most of the time.

What were you listening to while growing up?

Lots of heavier stuff, hardcore and post-hardcore, new metal, funk, grunge. Nirvana, Offspring, Fall of Troy. An endless list of screaming, shouting, loud bands, which I still love. But alongside that, I also got a heavy dose of what mom and dad were listening to – Simon & Garfunkel, Fleetwood Mac, Alanis Morissette. Jagged Little Pill was a favorite of my mom’s and I still love that one. Great pop record.

You’ve often cited the experimental duo The Books as a major influence and the source of some of your experimental tendencies.

I saw The Books playing when I was a student in Manchester 15 years ago and they just knocked my socks off. It did not sound like any music I’d ever heard before. All the sampling and found-sound collaging was just eye-opening, a completely different way of making music. I loved the aesthetic, the sound, the folksiness of banjo and cello with all that. It was just inspired.

I would not think about music the way I do without The Books. I still listen to them all the time, and you can hear their influence on loads of my tracks. “Under the Concrete” has city noises I recorded in a park in Belfast, sirens in the distance. I wanted that song to have the feeling of being set in that park in that city. It felt like that’s where it had to take place emotionally.

After two such vastly different records back to back, what’s next for you?

I don’t know yet. I need a bit of time for gestation and recalibrating why I make music and to try to come at it from a different angle. I’m very excited at the prospect of making something new that goes away from what I’ve done before, something a bit more experimental. That’s where my head is at now. Maybe someplace percussive. At the moment all I’ve got are loose imaginary mental soundscapes, but that’s enough to keep me happy for now.

Photo Credit: Tom Johnson

10 Fiddlers We Know You’ll Love

Posted on by Justin Hiltner

When it comes to fiddlers, we all know that more is more is more.

Lonesome fiddle? Great. Twin fiddle? Even better. Triple fiddle? (Who called Bob Wills?)

But with all this great fiddling, it’s hard to keep up with who is who. We are here to help. It turns out that for all the fiddlers that you may know and love, there are probably 10 more that you haven’t heard of – even if you’ve heard their playing!

Here are some fiddlers making big waves and sawin’ big figure eights who may be flying under your fiddle radar.

Ellie Hakanson

Originally from Portland, Oregon, Ellie Hakanson grew up playing music in her family band. Bluegrass fans will have heard her blazing solos as part of Jeff Scroggins & Colorado, with whom she toured and recorded for five years. She now lives in Nashville, where she plays with Missy Raines & Allegheny and Kristy Cox among many other artists.

Ellie’s fiddling is defined by its traditional bluegrass sound and deep study of the genre. The International Bluegrass Music Association agrees, as Ellie has been nominated for several IBMA Momentum Awards – in 2017 for Instrumentalist of the Year, in 2018 for Vocalist of the Year, and in 2019 for both Vocalist and Instrumentalist of the Year.

Here, she plays “Sally Goodin” with the incredible Michael Cleveland during a workshop at Cowichan Valley Bluegrass Festival in Lake Cowichan, British Columbia, in 2024.

Evan Snoey

Multi-instrumentalist Evan Snoey approaches music with a wide lens. Equally comfortable playing old-time fiddle and jazz saxophone, Snoey’s breadth of musical knowledge finds him playing with everyone from young shredders (like the Litch Brothers) to country artists (like Dylan Gossett). Originally from Seattle, Snoey’s stylistic interests include old-time, bluegrass, Scandinavian, Scottish, swing, jazz, and contemporary improvisational music.

In this video, he performs a medley of tunes – “Busta,” “Sjøvald,” and “Primrose Lass” – with Alex Wilder on piano for the Nashville Contra Dance.

Omar Ruiz-Lopez

Chapel Hill, North Carolina-based fiddler and multi-instrumentalist Omar Ruiz-Lopez may be best known for his work with folk duo Violet Bell. Ruiz-Lopez is currently making a name for himself as a sideman (playing cello, guitar, and fiddle) with artists such as the War and Treaty, Franklin Jonas, Lizzie No, and Langhorne Slim. And he has just announced a crowdfunding campaign for his first record of original music. Born in Panama and raised in Puerto Rico and Florida, Ruiz-Lopez is a bilingual singer-songwriter who brings a cross-cultural perspective to his music.

In the above video clip, Ruiz-Lopez performs “Panavueiro da Rabeca” and “Panariqueño,” an original fiddle tune, accompanied by Jamey Haddad and Clay Ross at Casey Driessen’s Blue Ridge Fiddle Camp in 2025.

Josie Toney

Soon after moving to Nashville, Josie Toney hit the road as part of Sierra Ferrell’s band, which went from a DIY van tour to a bus operation during her tenure. In 2022 she released her solo album, Extra, featuring her songwriting and guitar playing as well as extraordinary fiddle work. Originally from Olympia, Washington, Toney studied at Berklee College of Music before moving to Music City. She now tours with country star Hailey Whitters and appears often around Nashville fronting her own band and picking with others.

In 2022, she was a guest on Cameron DeWhitt’s podcast, Get Up in the Cool, performing a version of “Smith’s Reel” that perfectly shows her style.

Libby Weitnauer

Libby Weitnauer grew up in the shadows of the Great Smoky Mountains and studied classical violin in Chicago before returning to her roots in Tennessee to play old-time and country fiddle. An endlessly curious and evolving musician, she has played for Margo Price and Kelsey Waldon and has performed on Broadway in New York City, as well as founding indie band Dallas Ugly and fronting her own songwriting projects. A solo album is rumored to be on the way.

In this video, she performs “Swannanoa Waltz” for the YouTube channel The Old-Time Fiddler.

Amy Alvey

Old-time expert Amy Alvey is a fiddler from California who focuses on building community wherever she goes. In addition to recording and touring with her duo, Golden Shoals, and her indie solo project Mild Windago, she fronts the string band Hometeam Advantage, hosts a radio show on Middle Tennessee’s WMOT, and has cultivated a weekly old-time jam in Nashville. Amy is an encyclopedia of old-time tunes and sources with a wide range of stylistic ability.

Here, Hometeam Advantage includes George Guthrie (banjo), Charlie Fuertsch (guitar), and Ethan Hawkins (bass) performing “Tanner’s Farm.”

Jamie Fox

Montana-based fiddler (and pilot and aircraft mechanic) Jamie Fox grew up on the Fort Belknap Indian Reservation and is part of the Agniih and Nakoda tribes. Jamie, along with her brothers, learned Métis fiddle styles from traditional players on the reservation such as Old Fatty Morin, as well as Métis fiddlers like Jimmie LaRocque, Mike Page, and Johnny Arcand. She currently tours with her band The Fox Family Fiddlers, and as a solo performer.

This video, uploaded in 2019, showcases three reels in the Métis style performed in Denmark with Malene D. Beck accompanying on piano.

Katie McNally

Scottish fiddler Katie McNally grew up in the Boston area and was mentored by the legendary Hanneke Cassel. Her style is fierce and energetic, drawing inspiration from traditional Scottish and Cape Breton styles – as well as Scottish-American players. Katie records and tours her own music and is also a member of The Pine Tree Flyers with Emily Troll (accordion), Benjamin Foss (guitar), and Neil Pearlman (piano).

In 2024, the Pine Tree Flyers performed “Vidita” together for Seirm during Celtic Connections 2024, taped for BBC Alba. Watch above.

Austin Derryberry

As deeply rooted as they get, old-time fiddler and luthier Austin Derryberry plays with the groove of generations. Originally from Unionville, Tennessee, Derryberry’s duo album with Trenton “Tater” Caruthers focuses on the less well-known fiddling of the Middle Tennessee area. He apprenticed with legendary fiddle maker Jean Horner and now makes and plays fiddle in the region.

In this video, Derryberry is joined by his wife Courtney Derryberry and Greg Reish to perform an Ed Haley version of “Chinese Breakdown” in Ireland for the Westport Folk & Bluegrass Festival in 2023.

Connor Murray

Originally from the Chicago area, Connor Murray Ostrow polished his bluegrass chops studying with Michael Cleveland and he can currently be found gigging all over Nashville and around the country. Connor’s playing is clean and focused, with bluegrass drive and country sensibilities.

A graduate of Belmont University, for his senior recital in 2022 he performed a hot club jazz rendition of a Kenny Baker tune, “Bluegrass in the Backwoods,” illustrating the way his approach to the instrument has cross-pollinated with many styles.

Photo Credits: Lead image (L to R): Ellie Hakanson by Nico Humby; Josie Toney by Natia Cinco; Omar Ruiz-Lopez by Phyllis B Dooney, PHOTOFARM. Alternate image: Ellie Hakanson by Nico Humby.

BGS 5+5: Aidan VanSuetendael

Posted on by Justin Hiltner

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Photo Credit: Oceanna Colgan

Country Ain’t a Man’s World

Posted on by Shelby Williamson

Editor’s Note: Each issue of Good Country, our co-founder Ed Helms will share a handful of good country artists, albums, and songs direct from his own earphones in Ed’s Picks.

Cat Clyde
Cat Clyde

We loved Cat Clyde’s 2023 release, Down Rounder, and on her brand new album Mud Blood Bone the Canadian singer-songwriter turns the dial a few more clicks toward alt-country, indie, and rockabilly. There’s a raw, gritty quality to the collection that’s remarkably refined for how unhinged it lands – and very country, too.

Ella Langley
Ella Langley

Ella Langley’s megalith hit, “Choosin’ Texas,” has brought her to the top of the charts, but we’re zooming in on a new single she just released a little over a month ago. “Be Her,” one of four tracks unveiled so far from her upcoming April release, Dandelion, might end up being the best mainstream country song of the year. Delightfully coy, jealous, and longing, it’s a bop that’s as deep and thoughtful as it is fun.

Megan Moroney
Megan Moroney

No one is making mainstream, crispy, hyper-stylized country like Megan Moroney. Her new album, Cloud 9, is certain to lift you up. With a lyric video showcasing beaches, palm trees, and Los Angeles sunshine, the title track perfectly illustrates how Moroney combines pop and twang, city and rural into a country style all her own. Right at home on Top 40 radio, but certainly Good Country, too.

Kacey Musgraves
Kacey Musgraves

Kacey Musgraves ended her post-Deeper Well dry spell with “Dry Spell,” a hilarious, catchy, and craveable song to bridge eras and albums. Her next LP, Middle of Nowhere (coming May 1), will expand the rat-race-opt-out universe Musgraves began building with Deeper Well. And we’re more than happy to see dashes of the wit and wordplay of Same Trailer, Different Park and Pageant Material infused in the lead single.

Tedeschi Trucks Band
Tedeschi Trucks Band

An Americana, Southern rock, and modern blues supergroup, Tedeschi Trucks Band’s 12-person ensemble returns with another no-misses album, Future Soul, released Friday. The project is strikingly diverse sonically and while it features some more genre exploration and subdued moments than you may expect from their stage shows, it’s still an absolute banger. The group kicked off their album release tour beginning a 10-show residency at the Beacon Theatre in New York City that runs through March 28 before they take the show on the road in the spring, summer, and beyond.

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Photo Credits: Cat Clyde by Julio Assis; Ella Langley courtesy of the artist; Megan Moroney by Cece Dawson; Kacey Musgraves by Kelly Christine Sutton; Tedeschi Trucks Band by Chapman Baehler.

Boy Golden is Rooted in Roots

Posted on by Justin Hiltner

Lots of people are taking a shine to Boy Golden lately. Radio stations in Canada sent his populist pop single, “Suffer,” to the top of the modern rock chart. He produced William Prince’s 2025 album, Further from the Country, which recently received a Juno nomination in the Contemporary Roots Album category. And he’s among the new additions to the esteemed Telluride Bluegrass Festival lineup in June.

Offstage, Boy Golden is Winnipeg-based musician Liam Duncan. (His mother’s maiden name is Goulden, so he conjured the stage name Boy Golden.) In addition to jumping across genres, he’s also crossing the Canadian/American border this spring, with dozens of U.S. tour dates to promote his new album, The Best of Our Possible Lives. Duncan recorded the project in Los Angeles with fellow Winnipeg guitarist Austin Parachoniak, producer Robbie Lackritz, and cream of the crop LA studio players.

Duncan called in to Good Country to talk about making the new record, though the conversation also gravitated toward his abiding love for bluegrass music.

“Suffer” has been a big hit for you in Canada. What do you remember about trying to get “Suffer” to sound the way you wanted it to sound? Was it hard to come up with that song?

Boy Golden: No, that was a quick one. I sat down and wrote it all in one chunk. I remember it taking about an hour, maybe. But then I did make several demos of it, and throughout that process, I did edit it a fair bit and experimented with different lyrics and arrangements. By the time I got to the studio, I was really confident in the foundation, the bare bones of it. I could trust the musicians there, and they nailed it.

On that song, Pino Palladino plays the bass, which is really cool because he’s a legend, and then Abe Rounds is on the drum kit and he’s a really great drummer and musician. We had a few drummers we were thinking about asking, but I listened to Abe’s solo album – which is called The Freedom to Make Mistakes – and his percussive sensibilities on percussion instruments, beyond just the drum kit, were so spot on. It made it an easy decision, because I really wanted a lot of percussion on this album.

Why is that?

A lot of records that I love have a lot of percussion, first off. I was listening to a lot of Ry Cooder. I was listening to a lot of Paul Simon. The percussion on those records is fantastic. But also I was thinking about the first record I made as Boy Golden and I really went overboard with the percussion on that album. I hadn’t listened to it in years, I was in a store in Portland, and the guy running the store put on my song while I was in there. I was like, “Oh gosh, this is really great!” [Laughs]

I went back and listened to the record and I was like, “I should do that again,” because the records that I made between that first one and this one were way more stripped back. I made both of them on different types of 8-track tape machines so there’s just not as much room to go crazy with it. And I knew I was gonna have the freedom to do anything on this record.

The album before this one [For Eden] had a lot of banjo. Are you still grabbing the banjo from time to time?

Oh, yeah. I made a demo yesterday that has a bunch of banjo on it. And I spent the Christmas holidays just shedding some old-time, which is a really fun thing to do and does not bother my family much!

When did you pick up the banjo originally?

When did I pick up the banjo… 2020? 2019? Somewhere in there. It wasn’t, like, always a thing, but I’ve always loved bluegrass, and I’ve always listened to a fair bit of bluegrass, but I was just in a big phase. And I think part of it was, I was like, “I am never going to be a good enough guitar player to really play bluegrass, so maybe I should try a different instrument.”

You included “The Year Clayton Delaney Died” on that first record. Is Tom T. Hall somebody that you gravitated toward?

Yeah, particularly his bluegrass record, The Magnificent Music Machine. It’s such a good album! Something I love about that album is, a lot of bluegrass is pretty dry, and that record is not. It just sounds like a bunch of people playing in a big room, like maybe a church or something. I don’t know how it was recorded, but I love the energy on that record.

What are some of your other favorite bluegrass records?

My favorite bluegrass records are the Bluegrass Album Band’s Volumes I through III. [Laughs] They’re my favorite. I love a lot of what’s going on in the old-time scene right now, like Nora Brown and Stephanie Coleman. And I love playing music acoustically with friends. I love sharing songs that way. I grew up going to the Winnipeg Folk Festival, and that was where I was first exposed to bluegrass, and it has been a lifelong love. And I feel like it does make its way into my music, even though I write kind of pop songs or something. I like to produce in all sorts of different ways, but on each song on this album, I tried to have at least one element that felt distinctly rooted in roots, whether that was a guitar part or a banjo part or a pedal steel or whatever. I just tried to always have some sort of grounding in the roots.

Reading up on you, I found that you were a Gillian Welch fan.

Yeah, I saw Gillian and Dave for the first time this [past] year at Winnipeg Folk Fest. It was very emotional for me. I cried a lot because I had a friend pass away right before we made this record. We had made a record together, me and this friend, and one of the songs was called “I Dream an Ocean,” which was inspired by “I Dream a Highway.” We would just bond over those records so much. … I could cry right now thinking about listening to Gillian and Dave when he was here. It was super affecting and really gorgeous.

I’ve enjoyed the videos that you put out so far and I think visuals must be really important to you. Can you talk about the concept of the video for “Cowboy Dreams”?

Yeah. I had a couple pretty specific visual references. One of them was the Brazilian tune “Águas De Março,” which has a great video you can find of Elis Regina and Antônio Jovian duetting that song together on an old stereo capsule mic. You can put [that mic] off-axis and then you can both sing into it. Anyways, it’s just a really beautiful video, and I love watching it because they have such chemistry. Me and my friend Cat [Clyde] have a great creative chemistry as well. We wrote that song together and made the demo together. So, I thought we could basically steal that concept and make it a little more cinematic by putting a 360-degree dolly camera around it. I love that shot.

The other one was a killer Sade video that’s all in black and white, and she’s galloping on a horse bareback, which is beyond my skill level, and it’s just so cool. Cat’s a really good rider. I was not a great rider. I’m still not a great rider, but I took a bunch of riding lessons leading up to that video shoot and got myself to the point where I could gallop comfortably. The ranch where we shot the horse stuff is run by some friends of mine, and they gave me, like, a Cadillac of a horse, so it was super easy.

You’re riding a horse in that video and you’re in Lake Winnipeg on your album cover. I’m assuming you’re pretty outdoorsy. Do you like the great outdoors?

I do, yeah. Yes sir. There are references to the natural world in my writing a fair bit.

Say you’ve got a free afternoon, what would you do?

Well, right now in the winter, I go cross country skiing. I go a couple times a week, usually. And I love cross country skiing, because it’s very meditative once you get into the flow and if the conditions are good – kick, glide, kick, glide. … And you can get into the woods with it, which is what I like about it. I mean, you can’t downhill ski where I live, because it’s just flat, but on cross country, you don’t need a lift pass. You don’t have to pay any money, usually. Maybe a trail fee of like $5 but once you get going, you can get onto this trail and you’re in the woods in the middle of winter. It’s a pretty special experience, not something everyone gets to enjoy, or even maybe realizes is as wonderful as it is. You know, to be out in the woods in the middle of winter, it’s sweet. And in the summer, I like to hike. I like to backpack.

That reminds me of the song “Blue Hills” from one of your past records. That one seems more of a country-leaning song to me. What inspired you to write that song?

I was thinking about being in high school actually. The town I grew up in is called Brandon and Brandon famously has hills [laughs] in Manitoba and they’re called the Blue Hills of Brandon, ostensibly because from a distance, they kind of look blue, I guess. And I was under the impression when I wrote that song that I had a great aunt or some ancestor who had written an old song called “The Blue Hills of Brandon.” I found out later from my dad that I must have made that up, because I don’t! That person who wrote that song is not my ancestor.

But either way, at the time, I thought she was, so I was like, “I’m gonna write my own version,” which I thought would be really special. I was thinking about high school, I was thinking about my late grandma and grandpa. Thinking about how those really early memories of love are so tangible, no matter how old you get. That’s why I say, “It’s the only thing I know to be true.” It’s like, that early love just was true.

When did the spark start for you as a songwriter?

I always wanted to write songs, but I was really blocked until I was about 21 or 22. And then I had a relationship end. It’s a common story, and I think I was so heartbroken that I didn’t really care if I wrote anything bad. And then it was like a spiritual revelation for me.

Had you been on stage a lot before that moment?

Yeah, I toured with my high school band all over. We played over 600 shows together. I’ve been in some sort of band with friends since I was like 14, so it’s been a lifelong thing. But I kind of thought I would just be a producer. To be honest, I never really thought I’d end up doing this.

When did you turn the corner? When did you decide, “All right, let’s make it happen”?

I guess when I had enough songs. And then I made a record that came out under my own name, which you can’t really find anymore. And then I came up with the Boy Golden character and idea and had a bunch of songs that I felt like were in the Boy Golden world. And ever since it’s been an obsession.

Photo Credit: Best of Our Possible Lives album cover

Laura Bryna’s Lipstick & Lightning Playlist

Posted on by Justin Hiltner

“Lightning & Lipstick” is exactly what it sounds like – strength with sparkle, power with personality. This is a Mixtape full of songs that remind us we can be fierce and feminine, gritty and glamorous all at the same time. These are the anthems that shaped me – the ones that say you don’t have to shrink, you don’t have to apologize, and you definitely don’t have to choose between softness and strength. That duality is who I am, and it’s woven into everything I’m creating right now, from the fire and fight in “Warrior” to the swagger of “Beauty Queen” to the passion of “Hearts On Fire.”

As I gear up for shows at Sturgis Motorcycle Rally, The Cutting Room in NYC, Vanish Hall in Maryland, CMA Fest, and beyond, this Mixtape feels like the heartbeat behind it all – loud, fearless, and unapologetically alive. – Laura Bryna

“Rise” – Laura Bryna

I believe my song “Rise” resonates so deeply with women because it speaks to that quiet strength so many of us carry. It’s about pushing through the moments that try to break you – the doubts, the setbacks, the heartbreak – and choosing to stand up anyway. I’ve heard from so many women who see their own story in that song and to me that’s everything. It’s not about being fearless, it’s about being brave enough to rise even when you’re scared.

“Queen Of The Night” – Whitney Houston

This one resonates so powerfully because it’s pure confidence. There’s no shrinking, no second guessing – just a woman standing fully in her power and daring the world to keep up. That kind of boldness is contagious. For so many female listeners, it’s not just a song, it’s a reminder that you’re allowed to take up space, own your presence, and rule your own night without asking for permission.

“Miss Me More” – Kelsea Ballerini

I love “Miss Me More” because it flips the breakup narrative in such a smart way. It’s not about missing him, it’s about rediscovering yourself. That’s such a powerful shift. It reminds women that sometimes the biggest glow-up isn’t finding someone new, it’s remembering who you were before you started shrinking. It’s confident, catchy, and such a great reminder that losing someone can actually mean getting yourself back.

“Stronger” – Kelly Clarkson

“Stronger” is one of those songs that just hits you in the chest in the best way. It takes heartbreak and turns it into fuel. I love how it doesn’t pretend pain doesn’t exist, it just refuses to let it win. For women especially, it’s such a powerful reminder that the thing that knocked you down might actually be the thing that builds you back braver, louder, and more yourself.

“Jawbreaker” – Laura Bryna

My song “Jawbreaker” is that no-filter energy I think every woman deserves to tap into. It’s about being bold, a little dangerous, and not watering yourself down to make anyone else comfortable. I wanted it to feel playful but powerful – like, yes, she’s sweet… but she’s also not someone you mess with. For female listeners, it’s a reminder that you can be soft and strong at the same time, and that confidence looks really good on you.

“Survivor” – Destiny’s Child

This track hits because it turns every setback into a statement. It’s not about pretending things didn’t hurt, it’s about saying, “You didn’t break me.” That kind of energy is so powerful for women. It reminds us that resilience isn’t quiet; sometimes it’s loud, proud, and sung at the top of your lungs. It’s the ultimate glow-up anthem: strength with rhythm and attitude.

“I Will Survive” – Gloria Gaynor

“I Will Survive” is the blueprint. It’s the original standing-ovation moment for every woman who’s ever been underestimated. What I love about it is that it doesn’t just move on from heartbreak, it rises above it with dignity and fire. It’s strength wrapped in melody. For female listeners, it’s a reminder that resilience is timeless, and sometimes the most powerful thing you can say is, I’m still here and I’m stronger than ever.

“Before He Cheats” – Carrie Underwood

“Before He Cheats” is just fun. It taps into that dramatic, slightly unhinged energy we’ve all joked about at some point, and Carrie delivers it with such sass and power that you can’t help but sing along. It’s not about actually keying a car (please don’t), it’s about reclaiming your power in a moment where you felt disrespected. It’s fiery, bold, and the ultimate girls’ night, windows-down anthem.

“Strong Enough” – Cher

This song is such a timeless empowerment anthem because it’s strength wrapped in attitude. I love how the production carries that steady, almost defiant pulse; the groove feels grounded and unshakeable, like the confidence the lyrics are claiming. Cher’s vocal delivery is cool and controlled, which somehow makes the message even more powerful. For female listeners, it’s that reminder that independence isn’t loud for the sake of it – it’s steady, self-assured, and completely unbothered.

“Pink Pony Club” – Chappell Roan

“Pink Pony Club” feels like freedom in glitter form. It’s about choosing the life that lights you up, even if it doesn’t look like what everyone expected for you. I think that’s why it resonates so deeply with female and LGBTQ+ listeners – it celebrates self-expression without apology. The production is big, theatrical, and dramatic in the best way, like stepping into your own spotlight. It’s not just a song, it’s a permission slip to be fully, fabulously yourself

“Over Being Under You” – Laura Bryna

This song came from a really honest place for me. I wrote it during a season where I realized I was bending over backwards trying to keep the peace, trying to make everything work and slowly losing myself in the process. The song is about that turning point, when you decide you’re not going to shrink or overextend just to be chosen. For female listeners, I think it resonates because so many of us have been taught to over-give. This song is the reminder that you don’t have to over-bring anything to be enough – you already are.

“Unstoppable” – Sia

“Unstoppable” is that anthem you blast when you need to borrow a little courage. What I love about it is how the production builds — those pounding drums and cinematic layers make it feel larger than life, like you’re stepping into your own movie moment. Sia’s vocal has that mix of vulnerability and steel, which makes the message hit even harder. For women especially, it’s a reminder that even if you don’t always feel unstoppable, you can choose to show up like you are.

“My Strongest Suit” – Sherie Rene Scott

This one is a little out of left field but it’s such a clever, empowering anthem because it flips the idea of vanity into self-confidence. On the surface it’s playful and glamorous, but underneath it’s about owning your presence and knowing your worth. The production is theatrical and bold – bright brass, dramatic builds, and that larger-than-life Broadway energy – which makes it feel like you’re stepping into your power with every beat. For us women, it’s a reminder that confidence isn’t shallow… it’s strength dressed up and shining.

“Born This Way” – Lady Gaga

“Born This Way” is one of those songs that feels bigger than music, it feels like a movement. Gaga wrote it as a direct celebration of identity and self-acceptance, inspired by conversations around equality and the idea that we’re all designed exactly as we’re meant to be. I love how the production is bold, anthemic, and loud – it doesn’t tiptoe around the message that you were born powerful

“Time To Say Goodbye” – Laura Bryna

This is one of the most personal songs I’ve written because it’s about that breaking point. The moment you realize love shouldn’t feel like walking on glass. I wrote it thinking about anyone who feels stuck in something that’s slowly dimming their light. The production builds intentionally. It starts restrained and vulnerable, almost fragile, then opens up into this powerful, emotional lift that mirrors the courage it takes to finally choose yourself. For listeners in toxic relationships, it’s not just a goodbye to someone else – it’s a hello to your own strength.

“Espresso” – Sabrina Carpenter

“Espresso” just has that effortless, confident sparkle to it. It’s playful but self-assured, like she knows exactly the effect she has and isn’t apologizing for it. It’s flirty without being desperate, powerful without being preachy. The production is slick and minimal in the best way – that tight groove, the punchy bass, the airy vocal stacks – it feels cool, modern, and addictive. It’s the kind of song you put on when you want to walk a little taller and remember you’re the energy in the room.

“Beautiful” – Christina Aguilera

One of those rare songs that meets people exactly where they are. The lyrics are so direct and vulnerable – there’s no metaphor to hide behind, it just says what so many people are afraid to admit: I don’t feel enough sometimes. That honesty is universal. Production-wise it’s intentionally stripped back at first, soft piano, space around the vocal, which make Christina’s performance feel intimate and raw. Then it swells just enough to feel like a release. It’s not flashy, it’s sincere. And that sincerity is why it resonates across every background, identity, and experience.

Photo Credit: Fernando Salazar

You Gotta Hear This: New Music From Dirk Powell, Daniel Grindstaff, and More

Posted on by Justin Hiltner

Need some new music in your life? You Gotta Hear This!

This time, our weekly roundup is kicked off – pun intended – by mandolinist and singer-songwriter Ashby Frank, who has just released “Stokes County Buck Dancing Man.” Written with Mason Via, the track pays tribute to the tradition of flatfooting and buck dancing at fiddlers conventions, old-time jams, and bluegrass festivals – especially giving homage to Todd “The Bod” Inman of Galax Old Fiddler’s Convention fame. It’s modern bluegrass with plenty of fun, down-home, mountain music infusions. Also in bluegrass, Daniel Grindstaff & the Uptown Troubadours have a brand new self-titled album out today. To celebrate, we’re sharing their cover of “Denver,” a song written by the legendary Larry Gatlin. Whatever the genre, whomever the artist, the song certainly shines; Grindstaff and company do it justice.

Old-time, Cajun, and Americana musician Dirk Powell shares a new lyric video with us today, as well. “Down The Line” captures the musical itinerant lifestyle and career Powell has made for himself, reflecting on the journeys he’s taken from his home in Louisiana to points all over the map – but especially Powell’s beloved Southwest. From West Virginia, singer-songwriter Brad Goodall draws from the river town vibes of his native Huntington for “River Water.” Found at the confluence of clean, manicured soft rock and gritty Americana folk rock, Goodall plays with themes well-placed in roots music: home, belonging, leaving, staying, and – eventually – coming to terms with all of it.

Texan artist, songwriter, and cowgirl Candace Hastings has brought us her new song, “Loving Cowboys,” today as well. It’s a song about being left behind by the person you love, watching the dust kick up from their truck tires as they head off to make their living. Jazzy and swinging, it’s country steeped in the “& western” most of the genre has long since dropped, but Texas keeps well alive for all of us to enjoy. To wrap us up, SUSTO’s acoustic iteration, Susto Stringband, team up with Morgan Wade for “Hard Drugs,” off an upcoming second volume of Susto Stringband. The group wasn’t originally planning to include this song on the project, but were convinced by Wade – to the benefit of each of us.

There’s so much to check out and enjoy below! You Gotta Hear This…

Ashby Frank, “Stokes County Buck Dancing Man”

Artist: Ashby Frank
Hometown: Nashville, Tennessee
Song: “Stokes County Buck Dancing Man”
Release Date: March 20, 2026
Label: Mountain Home Music Company

In Their Words: “I wrote this song with my buddy Mason Via. We both attended fiddlers conventions and bluegrass festivals in North Carolina and Virginia when we were kids and, of course, flatfoot buck dancing and clogging are a big part of these events. There were always so many great musicians and dancers there, as well as some larger-than-life personalities, but Todd ‘The Bod’ Inman from Stokes County, North Carolina, might have been the biggest and brightest character of them all.

“We wrote this song as a tribute to Todd and we were able to send him a work tape version of it before he passed away from cancer in 2024. He loved being the life of the party and the star of the show and he seemed to really get a kick out of our song about him. Galax Old Fiddler’s Convention will never be the same without his iconic dance moves and sense of humor. I was so pleased that Mason agreed to sing harmony with me on this track and I’m so very proud of how it turned out. This one’s for The Bodman!” – Ashby Frank

Track Credits:
Ashby Frank – Mandolin, lead vocal
Seth Taylor – Acoustic guitar
Travis Anderson – Bass
Matt Menefee – Banjo
Tony Creasman – Drums
Mason Via – Harmony vocal
Jim VanCleve – Fiddle

Daniel Grindstaff, “Denver”

Artist: Daniel Grindstaff
Hometown: Elizabethton, Tennessee
Song: “Denver”
Album: Daniel Grindstaff & The Uptown Troubadours
Release Date: March 20, 2026 (album)
Label: Bonfire Music Group

In Their Words: “‘Denver’ lyrically paints a picture and tells a story of heartbreak set against the backdrop of the Rockies. Written more than 40 years ago by legendary songwriter Larry Gatlin, I felt it was the perfect time to introduce ‘Denver’ to a new bluegrass audience. There’s so much about the song that I loved when I first heard it – the melody, the storyline, and the vocal lift in the chorus all grabbed me. Being a huge fan of Larry Gatlin’s songwriting and the music of the the Gatlin Brothers, it’s an honor to put our spin on this great song and show how incredible lyrics and melodies can move through genres and generations and stand the test of time.” – Daniel Grindstaff

Brad Goodall, “River Water”

Artist: Brad Goodall
Hometown: Huntington, West Virginia
Song: “River Water”
Album: Hometown
Release Date: March 20, 2026 (single); May 1, 2026 (album)

In Their Words: “Biographical in nature, this song pulled from me a lot of the bittersweet feelings I have regarding my surroundings. ‘You can leave it, it’ll be there when you need it,’ in the hook. West Virginia isn’t going anywhere, and it’s home, but finding my own brand of happiness here took a lot of maturing, because I spent much of my twenties confused, frustrated, and wanting out. As my values changed, my outlook on it brightened.

“This song became more than I imagined in the initial demos. The record version scratches my soft rock itch and even leaves room for a hypothetical live jam in the instrumental bridge section – both of those qualities are pure to me. I was also lucky to have found a defining riff song, which has blossomed again in trending indie and folk songs of today’s landscape. ‘River Water’ is a personal favorite of mine for another reason, it’s malleable. On the road last year and now, I’ve played it as a solo piano ballad, which has brought me close to the tune in inspiring new ways.” – Brad Goodall

Track Credits:
Brad Goodall – Vocals, piano, songwriter, producer
Jason Boesel – Producer
Zack Owens – Guitar, vocals
Griff Goldsmith – Drums, vocals
Macey Taylor – Bass
Jack Tellmann – Engineer

Candace Hastings, “Loving Cowboys”

Artist: Candace Hastings
Hometown: San Marcos, Texas
Song: “Loving Cowboys”
Release Date: March 26, 2026

In Their Words: “I’ve loved a lot of leavers in my life. ‘Loving Cowboys’ is for all of us who stay home and watch the truck kick up dust on the way out of the gate at sunrise or the ship pull away from the dock for yet another six-month tour. It’s about loving someone with a divided heart, a touchstone for those of us who are left behind – how much are we willing to give up of ourselves to make someone else’s dreams come true? ‘Loving Cowboys’ is a song that gets folks to push back the tables in a crowded bar and dance in the dark. It’s a late-night, jazz-tinted country ballad you can’t help but sway to, a dive bar classic jukebox tune that closes out the night for every lonely heart in the joint. So close the blinds and turn down the lights – it’s time to dance.” – Candace Hastings

Track Credits:
Candace Hastings – Vocals, guitar
Lloyd Maines – Guitar
Glen Fukunaga – Upright bass
Chris Gage – Piano
Pat Manske – Drums

Dirk Powell, “Down The Line”

Artist: Dirk Powell
Hometown: Lafayette, Louisiana (Born in Oberlin, Ohio into a family with deep Kentucky roots.)
Song: “Down The Line”
Album: Wake
Release Date: April 17, 2026 (album)
Label: The Last Music Company

In Their Words: “Softly rolling banjos, stark guitars, and distant fiddles paint pictures of journeys from my home in Louisiana through places that have inspired me to lay everything on the line – and given me settings in which to do so. West. South. I’ll take either one, but both at once makes the blood rise in my chest. To feel the moisture of the Gulf give way to chaparral, then to scrubby plains, and finally to the bright desert. Danger and its opposite.” – Dirk Powell

Susto Stringband, “Hard Drugs” Featuring Morgan Wade

Artist: Susto Stringband
Hometown: Asheville, North Carolina
Song: “Hard Drugs” featuring Morgan Wade
Album: Susto Stringband (Volume Two)
Release Date: May 29, 2026 (album)
Label: Missing Piece Records

In Their Words: “‘Hard Drugs’ was written in the early days of SUSTO, shortly after the release of our self-titled debut. It’s a song about loss, and performing it for years has always taken me back to the moment when it was written. It’s one of the songs from our catalog that people have really latched on to over the years and I’m glad to have been able to revisit it for Susto Stringband (Volume Two). I wasn’t originally planning on including this track for the record, but after chatting with Morgan [Wade] about doing a feature for the album, she requested this one in particular and I’m really glad she did. Morgan’s vocals, along with the string band reimagining of the song, have really breathed new life into it for me and reminded me that songs written from the heart can continue to transcend when presented in new light. I’m so grateful for Morgan adding her voice to this song and the stories it represents, and I’m extra glad to finally share it with the world!” – Justin Osborne

Photo Credit: Dirk Powell by Karen Cox; Daniel Grindstaff courtesy of Bonfire Music Group.

The Working Songwriter: Fruition

Posted on by Justin Hiltner

Our guests this week got their start busking on the streets of Portland, Oregon, but it wasn’t long before their popularity pulled them onto the open road. Jay Cobb Anderson and Kellen Asebroek are pivotal and founding members of roots music band Fruition. They have toured with Greensky Bluegrass, the Infamous Stringdusters, Yonder Mountain String Band, and many others and have appeared at iconic festivals such as Telluride Bluegrass Festival, WinterWonderGrass, and the Northwest String Summit.

LISTEN: APPLE • SPOTIFY • LIBSYN • MP3

Fruition’s 2018 release, Watching It All Fall Apart, debuted at #3 on the Billboard Bluegrass Albums Chart. Billboard said, “Fruition have matured into one of America’s most compelling roots acts” while Rolling Stone Country noted, “The trio’s harmonies are as tight as anything coming out of Nashville.” No Depression declared that they’re “a band whose chemistry feels lived-in and wholly authentic.”

I got a chance to catch up with them a while back to hear about their musical journey so far.

Photo Credit: Kaja Sigvalda