The ’90s might be cool again, but there was more to the era than Friends and Seinfeld. In the shadows of the dot-com boom and bust, NAFTA and off-shoring, life wasn’t as slow or quirky as those shows made it seem. American women had more independence than ever before – but they were still waging battles for gender equity from kitchen tables to C-suites to recording studios.
Sarah McLachlan was just reaching the peak of her powers in 1997, enjoying international success but frustrated by radio programmers’ limited ideas of how their audience received women. McLachlan and other women were constantly pitted against each other, told that no one would listen to two songs by women in a row – and certainly no one would want to see women tour together. So, McLachlan set out to prove the world wrong, reshaping popular music in the process.
Lilith Fair: Building a Mystery is a new documentary produced by ABC News and released in September 2025. Available to stream now on Hulu, the project captures the festival’s revolutionary three years with pride and exuberance, encapsulating Lilith Fair’s confident strength and joy. Archival footage of shows and interviews with some of the hundreds of thousands of fans who flocked to the event are resolute testaments to the festival’s enduring impact – if only people remembered it.
The film, directed by Ally Pankiw, premiered at the 2025 Toronto International Film Festival in early September. Dan Levy (of Schitt’s Creek fame) co-produced the film under his Not a Real Production company. The documentary follows the story of Lilith Fair from its genesis, examining the festival’s place in history, the misogyny women artists faced at the time, and the trails it blazed for women artists today. Featuring McLachlan, Sheryl Crow, Erykah Badu, Paula Cole, and more in interviews, the film explores how McLachlan’s forward-thinking vision animated Lilith Fair into something much more than a package tour.
Lilith Fair’s Place in History
“The cultural memory of Lilith is clearly very skewed,” observes co-producer Cassidy Hartmann, who spoke to BGS. “There are a number of reasons for that. Women’s achievements in history have often been overshadowed or skewed in some way and there’s often been backlash against that.”
The documentary opens with a series of TikTok videos featuring half a dozen Gen Z-ers breathlessly recounting the massive package tour devoted solely to women artists of all genres. In 1997, 1998, and 1999, Lilith Fair main stage featured McLachlan, Badu, Cole, Crow, Tracy Chapman, The Indigo Girls, Jewel, Missy Elliot, Bonnie Raitt, and many more – while the “village stages” featured then little known up-and-comers like Christina Aguilera, Dido, and Nelly Furtado.
McLachlan and her team led the massive undertaking with a steady hand and, as the documentary shows, a willingness to learn from critiques. By the festival’s third year in 1999, the event boasted artists of many genres, cultures, and ages – though the sound leaned predominantly folk.
“I don’t think that any genre classified us,” Paula Cole demurred when speaking to BGS.
“I think that everyone was so unique and had their own music, and we fall into different classifications. I personally hate genre classification, because it’s limiting. Great music is usually a blend, anyway.”
Cole, who was nominated for three GRAMMYs for her 1996 album This Fire, would know about great music. Yet, a half hour into Lilith Fair: Building a Mystery, you’d be hard-pressed to miss her twang and carefully crafted lyrics forming the backbone of, well, Good Country.
But Cole has a point. While Lilith is often remembered in pop culture as a collection of (white) folk-inspired dryads, the festival featured an array of talent across all genres of music. As the documentary illustrates, McLachlan received feedback that the tour’s first year was too racially homogeneous, so she sought to build a tour that encompassed the totality of women working in music: Badu, Missy Elliott, and Queen Latifah all played the festival. (The documentary details a hilarious anecdote about Missy Elliott’s ride to the show after her tour bus broke down – we won’t spoil it here, but it’s the kind of thing that simply doesn’t happen in the age of smartphones.)
According to Badu, her time with Lilith Fair inspired her to create the Sugar Water Festival with herself, Queen Latifah, and Jill Scott in 2005 and 2006. Like Lilith, that event brought together community orgs that addressed women’s (and in this case, Black women’s) concerns.
Rippling Energy
Cole was a part of Lilith’s story from the very beginning, joining McLachlan on short, experimental runs to see if an all-woman lineup could indeed draw a crowd.
“It was uncommon for women to open for women. Every night I would tell the audience, I want to thank Sarah for having me here because this is uncommon,” Cole says. “This doesn’t happen. And audiences would erupt into applause when I would tell them that. It felt like a zeitgeist. You could feel the energy ripple.”
But Lilith Fair did not happen in a vacuum. It stands as one chapter in a long-ignored legacy of self-made movements among women in music. In the ’60s and ’70s, there was, in fact, an entire movement-turned-genre known as “women’s music.” The folk-inspired sounds were championed by queer record label Olivia Records and Michigan Womyn’s Music Festival was one of the scene’s organizing forces from 1976 to 2015. MichFest, as it was known, was an annual convergence of feminist women across the sexual and gender spectrum. But, the festival’s refusal to admit trans women in 1991 contributed to its decline. (The silver lining here is the subsequent organizing of trans rights groups and cis allies, but that’s a story for another time.)
While the Indigo Girls and Chapman performed at both Lilith Fair and MichFest, the headlining artists on Lilith’s lineup already had major label backing and widespread commercial success by 1997. Yet, history has collapsed and often conflated the two.
“A lot of people think Ani DiFranco was at Lilith,” executive producer Hartmann observes. “Clearly there is some overlap there. I think all of these women had a righteous anger and were super blunt about it.”
Indeed, while DiFranco has earned her reputation as that decade’s feminist iconoclast, Cole’s This Fire would certainly belong right next to DiFranco’s records on the shelf (likely much to the dismay of ’90s rock critics.)
Lilith Fair received quite a bit of criticism from women critics – certainly, McLachlan’s gentle forcefulness may have been more palatable to record labels than, say, riot grrl, but with time sanding down the edges of the record bins, it’s easy to see how they all form part of a whole.
“Women often don’t get to hear and understand the stories of generations of women before them, because culture has a tendency not to platform those stories. That lineage is often broken,” explains Hartmann. “Another thing that Lilith did really well was it had multi-generational artists. Emmylou Harris and Bonnie Raitt were there, bestowing their own wisdom and experience to these younger women. I think that’s also a really powerful element to keep in mind and hopefully replicate in the future.”
Building a Documentary
According to Hartmann, the documentary was inspired by Jessica Hopper’s Vanity Fair article “Building a Mystery: An Oral History of Lilith Fair.” Co-produced by Dan Levy and directed by Ally Pankiw, the film draws upon footage from MTV News, band members, and festival staff – plus a trove of 600 unreleased tapes gathered by Lilith on Top, a 2001 documentary that was only released in Canada.
There were plenty of reasons to resurface the story.
“Many of these people are at a point in their lives and careers [now] where I think they can reflect on that moment and have some perspective on it as well,” Hartmann says. “Unfortunately, I think the themes of the Lilith story are as relevant as ever, in terms of what’s happening in our society and culture at the moment with women’s rights being rolled back. It’s a moment to be reminded of what’s possible.”
Cole echoes that sentiment.
“Politically, things are so frightening as we’re witnessing the formation of autocracy without checks and balances and a lot of backlash [to liberalism],” she says. “I think Lilith is needed now more than ever. Anytime that someone’s talking about it is important. The conversation must go on, must go on, and we must keep telling people about it. It just gives hope, it gives breath, it opens doors, it lifts the ceiling.”
Indeed, if the film’s archival live footage conveys just a micron of the incredible energy in those venues, then Lilith was a revolution indeed.
Passing the Baton
McLachlan has repeatedly stated that, while the world needs something like Lilith Fair again, she is not the one to lead it – and that it would need to be very different than Lilith Fair was.
“I think Lilith was its own unique entity,” Cole reflects. “There are artists that, you know, sell a lot more tickets than Sarah that could drive this and that could do such a thing. I’m calling on the younger women of today to create their own version of Lilith Fair.”
But one message should still resonate: that quiet defiance Lilith Fair proudly bore – proving conventional wisdom wrong.
“When someone tells you something’s not possible, If you believe in it and you commit yourself to it, look what can happen,” Hartmann observes. “If it comes from a true organic place, the sky’s the limit.”
“Culture change, feminism, fresh thinking, intersectional thinking, it takes time,” says Cole. “It’s like a slow, long, quiet revolution.”
Images courtesy of ABC News Studios; Paula Cole photo by Merri Cyr.
Artist:Jess Jocoy Hometown: Bonney Lake, Washington (South Seattle region) Latest Album:Cul-de-Sac Kid (released October 24, 2025)
What’s your favorite memory from being on stage?
There have been so many cool moments on stage, but the first one that comes to mind would probably have to be the first time I played a Sunday Spotlight show at the Bluebird Cafe here in Nashville. My mom has a picture hanging on the wall of me, almost in this euphoric state, and I think that encapsulates the night perfectly. It was my first time playing the Bluebird and it just so happened to be my birthday. The Sunday Spotlight shows are full band, so I had the privilege of sharing the moment with some dear buddies and my family and friends. It was just really, really special.
What has been the best advice you’ve received in your career so far?
Honestly, the best advice I’ve received hasn’t come from the industry, but rather my family. There are a lot of “best practices” and “you need to do this in order to achieve that” kind of advice that goes around and all of that can get overwhelming. In a time when I was really carrying the weight of anxiety from this (especially in my younger years), it was offered to me that I should “filter in what I need and filter out what doesn’t serve me.” It took a little bit for that notion to sink in, but once it did, I started to enjoy music more in the same way I did before I started chasing it as a career.
Genre is dead (long live genre!), but how would you describe the genres and styles your music inhabits?
I think my music is a collection of what moves me: I have always loved country music – the twang, the storytelling, the fearlessness to be real. And sometimes just the simplicity. I’m also influenced by music that is ambient and ethereal and almost cinematic, often found in post-rock instrumentals or even movie scores. I’ve been leaning into this idea of “cul-de-sac country,” because my music hasn’t really ventured too far into twangy (just yet! but there’s always room to keep exploring), but I so appreciate the depth of a good story in a song and a “swelly” instrumental, so my goal is to find a crossroads somewhere in there.
What is a genre, album, artist, musician, or song that you adore that would surprise people?
I love Irish/Celtic music (instrumental, ballads, jigs/reels) — all of it. One song I love that might surprise people is “The Parting Glass” (ironically enough, though, my favorite version I’ve heard thus far is Abigail Washburn’s). I just love everything about that genre and style of music. It can be fun and dance-y or lilting and heartbreaking. It’s great!
If you were a color, what shade would you be – and why?
I blame my roots in the Pacific Northwest for my love of a deep green! It’s earthy and moody and can go with dang near everything!
Normally, when singer-guitarist Nick Hexum plays a gig, it’s fronting legendary hard rock band 311, performing for massive audiences in huge venues around the globe. But, on a recent evening in Knoxville, Tennessee, he was backed by Americana/bluegrass act Water Tower in front of a small crowd at the Open Chord, a cozy space on the west side of the city along Kingston Pike.
“I’ve always been drawn to music that has energy, and there’s so much energy in flatpicking, the banjo, the tremolo picking of the mandolin,” Hexum tells BGS backstage. “This stuff has rock and roll energy that predates rock and roll.”
For Hexum, this deep dive into bluegrass, country, and Americana of late has become something of an intrinsic mission from within. It’s the current soundtrack of a 55-year-old rock star carefully aiming to dig up and examine the melodic roots of his past – these existential anchor points needed to move forward.
“This whole experience is just bringing it really full circle, like a home,” Hexum says. “My mom is from Nashville, so this is me getting in touch with [memories of] when we used to go to visit my great aunt Margaret in Gatlinburg and she’d play the autoharp.”
Retracing old routes, both geographically and sonically, was no more apparent for Hexum than when he and Water Tower appeared at Americanafest in Nashville. The stop in Music City was part of a larger tour throughout the Southeast in an attempt for Hexum to not only reconnect with his past, but also create an opportunity to break new ground for his craft – especially outside of the hard rock juggernaut that is 311.
“I’m just grateful that fans are showing up and are open to seeing me do something completely different,” he says.
During the intimate set in Knoxville, Hexum and Water Tower crowded around a single microphone, weaving in, out, and around each other in a whirlwind of acoustic instruments and Hexum’s signature vocals. The show ran a gamut of material, whether it be classic 311 numbers or selections from Hexum’s latest solo record, Phases of Hope and Hollow.
“The intimacy [of the show], it’s wonderful to be so up close. It’s totally different [for me] from a technical situation – it takes silence,” Hexum reflects.
This project is the brainchild of Hexum and Water Tower’s Kenny Feinstein. Water Tower is a rising ensemble from Los Angeles, one which initially started as an old-time/punk group, only to lean further into becoming a high-energy string band. They raised more than a few eyebrows when they performed at the recent Telluride Bluegrass Festival in Colorado.
“We’re walking into another side of Nick,” Feinstein says. “311 is all about bringing people together through unity and different styles of music, so this is another slice of Nick’s personality.”
For Feinstein, working with Hexum has been this surreal experience, personally and professionally. As a millennial growing up in the late 1990s and early 2000s, Feinstein was a huge 311 fan, so much so he vividly remembers their video for the smash hit “Amber” and seeing 311 guitarist Tim Mahoney sporting a mohawk haircut.
“My friend and I saw the video and [decided] we needed mohawks,” Feinstein reminisces with a laugh. “So, all three of us went to a party [that night] and got our heads shaved into a mohawk.”
This latest musical chapter for Hexum and Water Tower happened serendipitously through the sober community both Hexum and Feinstein are part of in Los Angeles. Leading up to their crossing paths, Hexum had been heading down the rabbit hole of an Apple Music playlist that featured singer-songwriter Faye Webster. His ear perked up.
“I really like her songs, the pedal steel [sound], and the beautiful arrangements,” Hexum says of Webster. “And then, I reached out to Drew Vandenberg, who produces her music. We started talking about working together and one of the things I wanted to do was learn some of those instruments. So, I bought a pedal steel and took some lessons.”
Making space in his studio for the pedal steel, Hexum wanted to add a few more instruments into his creative arsenal, including the mandolin. Cue Feinstein. Meeting him through the sober community, Hexum asked Feinstein if he would teach him how to play the mandolin.
“I had [Kenny] over and I was like, ‘Let’s do something that sounds like [Faye Webster],’” Hexum says. “And he was just a cornucopia of ideas.”
At that juncture in his career, Hexum “mostly had played six-string guitar,” with these other instruments “a new world” for the artist. And yet, even though he was just learning how to play them, he was already well-versed in the sounds of bluegrass and country.
“Nick saw a dulcimer on my wall and I was really impressed that he knew what that was,” Feinstein recalls. “He told me about his heritage and [growing up] in Omaha and how he loved country and bluegrass. Then I said, ‘We should jam sometime.’”
That initial jam session between Hexum and Feinstein resulted in the duo writing five songs right out of the gate. Soon, Feinstein brought in Water Tower banjoist Tommy Drinkard and wrote several more.
“And now we’re on tour. It’s so special to see the humility that [Nick] carries, the gratitude and appreciation for all of his fans after so many years of doing it,” Feinstein says. “It just inspires us to have gratitude for where we’re at now, and to know the journey we’re on is about continuing to lessen the suffering [of others through music].”
“There’s so many people out there in the crowd crying, really taking it in,” Drinkard adds. “These are very intense subjects and Nick does a good job of explaining where he’s coming from with the songs he’s writing.”
For Hexum, this recent journey into the bluegrass realm has become this incredibly cathartic experience. He found himself not only dissecting his past and that of his parents, but also that of his ancestors going back generations.
“My mom is from Tennessee and my grandpa was a Southern Baptist minister,” Hexum notes. “Half of my family does have these southern roots, so when I hear bluegrass, it just feels like part of my DNA.”
Beyond the new music itself, Hexum views this ever-evolving project as part of his ongoing quest to find himself through this vibrant kaleidoscope of sound and purpose. It’s about stripping everything down, focusing on the essence of a particular melody, and always being aware of the beauty of the sacred platform that is live performance. Turn off the amps, pick up the acoustic guitar and huddle around a lone microphone, together.
“It has gotten to a point where I’m like, ‘All right, time is limited here, and I want to make the most of the time that I have now,’” Hexum says humbly. “I mean, when you see your kids get older and get their driver’s license and stuff like that, you just feel this passing of an era. And so, for me, it’s getting into a different mode of songwriting – really focusing on sincerity and simplicity.”
The sheer variety and singularity of the Grand Ole Opry – whether in just one of its shows or in just one of its many eras – would be paralyzing enough, if tasked with telling its complete, unabridged story to a broad audience. The assignment of taking the entire century-long history of the world’s longest running radio show and condensing it between the covers of a book would have to be heart-stopping. How could one ever take such a complex story full of twists, turns – and plenty of the idiosyncrasies found in human beings who make and love country music – put it down in 350+ pages?
It’s hard to imagine, but that’s exactly what writer Craig Shelburne, historian Brenda Colladay, and a host of Opry members have done with the brand new book, 100 Years of Grand Ole Opry. Shelburne – a BGS contributor and former managing editor for our website – worked with Colladay to penetrate the vast, lush archives of the Grand Ole Opry to posit its history decade by decade, chapter by chapter in the new hefty, coffee-table-ready tome. They completed dozens and dozens of interviews with Opry members, artists, musicians, employees, executives, and broadcasters and, as a result, the history book feels remarkably alive and vibrant – just like the show itself.
The book, released in April of 2025, demonstrates and reiterates time and again that the Grand Ole Opry isn’t a relic – nor has it ever been. It’s a living, breathing, adaptive being that’s enacted by a strong community of stakeholders not only from across the company that owns the brand, Ryman Hospitality, but the music industry as a whole, too. 100 Years of Grand Ole Opry showcases a country and cultural icon not waning or winding down after a century of triumphs (and trials and bumps and scrapes, too). No, instead, this book finds the Opry, beloved by all of us, merely at its next transition point, moving purposefully from the last 100 years to the next 100 years.
We sat down with Craig Shelburne on the phone to chat about the immense undertaking of writing this book, the surprises found and lessons learned along the way, and what makes the Grand Ole Opry so special, all for our Artist of the Month celebration of Opry 100.
This is such a gargantuan task, staring down the entire 100-year history of the Opry and being asked to turn it into a book. Where do you even begin? How did you take that first bite? What did it feel like to you to enter this process of creating a book?
Craig Shelburne: Yeah, 100 years is a massive undertaking and we – my co-writer Brenda Colladay and I – spent some time at Frothy Monkey in East Nashville sketching out some of the important Opry milestones in those eras when things really seemed to be shifting. As we did that, we realized that we could probably have each chapter be roughly a decade. At one point, we realized we wanted to have some breakout sections, but we didn’t know how to do that.
I wanted the book to be very readable, [without] a whole bunch of sidebars. So instead of designing sidebars, we have these pages that are interludes in between the decades, in between the chapters. You have the history of bluegrass, or the ways that the Opry has been on television, or what the Opry looked like when it went into the 21st century and a new era of technology. [That] was our chance to expand on one particular theme, rather than try to weave [those themes] into the narrative or take away from the narrative. It could be distracting if you dropped [a sidebar] into the manuscript every time the Opry was on television. Those interludes also gave us a chance to use some of these magnificent color photos [from the Opry archives] just because they’re beautiful photos. We didn’t have to necessarily set them up within the text. …
It was intimidating for a while until one night, late at night, I was writing and I realized that the main character of the story is the Opry itself. There are so many people that have passed across the stage, from Roy Acuff and Minnie Pearl up to the modern era. I wanted the artists and the cast members to be represented well, but really the main figure throughout this 100 years is the show itself. And it’s a show. It’s not a stage, it’s not a building. It’s a show.
Once I could get my head around the fact that this was the leading character in a 100-year story, the narrative started to fall into place. That was a breakthrough for me.
I also love how that format parallels the structure of the show itself. That you have segments, sets of artists performing, you have commercials and announcers and little games with sponsors, and you have talk-back sessions from artists. When you go to a show, it’s not just one thing from start to finish, it’s a bunch of different things – and there are obviously lots of interludes built in. So there’s something about the structure of the book that parallels the show in a nice way.
And telling the story of how the segmented portions of the Opry came to be was one of my favorite parts of writing the book. Basically, the Opry hired their music librarian – who was a very organized individual – to try to reign in some of the chaos from when the Opry was at what is now the Belcourt Theater [in the 1930s]. I think back then it was called the Hillsboro Theater. His name was Vito Pellettieri and he realized if he could wrangle three or four artists within the same timeframe, then these performers would now have a rough idea of when they needed to be standing side stage, instead of disappearing as musicians might have been wont to do.
Then of course, being the Opry, owned by an insurance company, the business people sensed an opportunity there and thought, “Let’s sell those segments to sponsors and advertisers.” And so that’s how the 30-minute segments came to be. Whether it was dog food or condensed milk or tobacco, if there was a sponsor for each segment, the Opry made more money that way, too. The Opry has been pretty creative in how it positions itself and how it can take advantage of good ideas quickly.
I know you spoke to dozens of artists, stakeholders, musicians, executives, broadcasters, and announcers. You and your co-writer Brenda Colladay must have done hours and hours of interviews for this book. Can you tell us a bit about that process and who you most enjoyed or were most excited to sit down with?
On one hand, the general narrative crafting you’re talking about sounds like really grueling work, but on the other hand, it sounds like doing that through these interviews was probably the most fun part of this process.
I would say the interviews were the most fun. I agree with you on that. I have the Opry show schedule as a shortcut on my smartphone now, because I would always try to figure out who was playing and who we needed to talk to.
As it should be, we started our interview series with the one and only Jeannie Seely. We felt like she needed to be first, and she deserved that. She only got about halfway through what she wanted to say [during our first meeting], so we set up another interview. It was wonderful to talk to her. Both of those afternoons were great, because with Jeannie, she’ll tell you the way it actually was. Some of it was very positive and some of it was critical, but it’s her perspective. And she was there! I didn’t get to see the Opry in the ‘60s or ‘70s, and she did. Getting to hear it directly from her was fantastic. She was also hilarious, when you got to sit down and joke around with her a little bit.
It was really important to talk to people firsthand and to go deeper than just, “Hey, what do you think of the Opry? Why is it important?” So the Opry opened up its entire archive to me, which was videos, books, newspaper clippings – pretty much anything that I wanted to look at, read, or watch. When I knew I had an interview coming up, I would spend several hours reading clippings and reading stories in order to come up with questions specific to their Opry experience. Rather than just, “Tell me about when you moved to Nashville. Tell me about this. Tell me about that.” Those aren’t questions, those are just prompts. When the people came in to talk to us, we were usually in pretty much a supply closet for camera equipment. It was a really small room. We didn’t have any cameras. We wanted everybody to be casual and comfortable and not worry about makeup and hair.
Then it became a very comfortable conversation. We started every interview with the same question, which was, “What is going through your mind in those moments before the curtain comes up?” Everybody had a different answer. That put them in the frame of mind of talking about the Opry, I think, more than talking about themselves. They went pretty deep, back in their memories, of how they discovered the Opry and what it’s meant to them. Quite a few of those artists went to the Opry as kids. So then they started talking about their family and what the Opry meant to their family, there were a lot of emotions.
I think some of those artists expected it to be like a 10 or 15 minute interview to grab that [sound] bite that says, “I sure do love the Opry.” But we went really deep and spent more than an hour talking with some of these artists. You don’t get to put everything like that into the book, but suddenly now we have an oral history from these modern contemporary performers that will live forever. When somebody writes about the Opry in 50 years from now, they have it straight from the artists, [speaking] about their path to that stage.
I think that’s one of the best accomplishments of this book, that it tells the story in such a rich, full way that isn’t just the mythology and isn’t just the good parts and the glitzy parts. It sounds like part of how you were able to accomplish that is by having these interviews set up in such a way that you could build trust with folks, so they didn’t feel like they were just giving you that marketing sound bite. They could really tell you those full stories.
I think a lot of that came from the Opry headquarters. They wanted us to tell [it] the way it happened. A woman named Jenn Tressler, she handles a lot of the talent requests there and I think she primed most of these artists about what the interviews would be like and what the goal was. Just [so they would] be comfortable and [know] no topic is off limits. Artists were asked some pretty sensitive questions sometimes about the relationship with the entertainment industry in general, including the Opry and the artists rose to the occasion.
We wanted to tell the actual story. I’ve often felt that nobody wants to read a book where everybody’s happy and there’s no conflict. There’s conflict in this one.
From your interviews or from writing this book, what was a story or two about the Opry that stuck out to you or surprised you? Or, that brought you to learning something new that maybe you wouldn’t have tripped over into if you hadn’t done this book? Is there a story or two that stand out to you?
The first one would be just how young everybody was when they got involved with the Opry. George D. Hay was a young man; Harry Stone, who was one of the early program directors, had just turned 30 when he took on that role. The artists were [in their] 20s and 30s. You had a very young Bill Monroe, Roy Acuff, Minnie Pearl, coming on the stage and changing the game for country music.
Sometimes the Opry is perceived as the elder statesman of country music – and that’s true and they’ll always have a place there, it’s wonderful. But a lot of the shake-ups at the Opry and a lot of the progress that’s been made was because of these young, innovative perspectives. That happened over and over. I think without that viewpoint from people who were younger, the Opry would’ve struggled through the last hundred years. There would’ve been times somebody might’ve said, “I want it to stay the same way, ’cause this is how we’ve always done it.” It’s never the right answer, to do it just because it’s always been done that way. I think that was pretty fascinating to me.
The other thing I didn’t realize was that it was not until I believe 1978 that the Opry was ever aired on television. It was a PBS special. If you wanted to see the Opry, you had to come to Nashville for the first 53 years. After that one night on the PBS special, it didn’t happen again until the following year. Being able to see the Opry, you had to come to Nashville, and I think executives at that time feared that if you put it on television, people would stay away from the show and they wouldn’t sell tickets anymore. But time has proven just the opposite. People saw it on television, how exciting it was and they felt like they needed to be there, myself included. I watched it growing up in Nebraska as a teenager and I just was fascinated by it. By that time, of course, it was on TNN.
I watched it many a Saturday night with my grandparents and I didn’t always know who those legendary figures were that were sharing the stage with Alan Jackson or Clint Black or Alison Krauss. But because of the Opry, I got a country music education as a teenager before I moved to Nashville in 1994. By the time I got here, I feel like I had a leg up on other people who wanted to write about country music that were my age.
You’re pointing out another fact that we often forget about country music, hillbilly music, these traditions that made these musics. It’s that all of them are constantly changing and growing, morphing and adapting to the future – and responding to the present.
Like, the reason the Opry became what it is today was because of technology, because of the “Air Castle of the South.” Because of radio, because there wasn’t a lot of competition on the literal bandwidth, and because the tower was so tall it could reach so many people all across the country. To think that, nowadays, when we view “tradition” in 2025, we think that means not changing something.
Wrong!
But the Opry has always been changing and always been using cutting edge technology to do that. And country wouldn’t exist without technology, without the railroad, without industrialization, without radio, without recording technology becoming portable and handheld.
Oh, absolutely. Well said. It has to change, and the Opry does figure out a way to reach new listeners and engage with people that have never been there. Obviously, when you go to the Grand Ole Opry House for a show now, the emcee will say, “Who’s never been to the Opry before?” And a lot of hands go up. They’re constantly marketing the show – as they should be. They want people to have a seat in the Ryman or the Opry House to see how special the world’s longest running radio show is. I give them a lot of credit for always trying to reach new people and not just looking for what they’ve done already in the past. They take a lot of pride in the fact that no two shows have ever been the same.
I was just listening the other night [on the radio] and I was able to catch the Opry debut of Grupo Frontera. I thought it was such a perfect example of what you’re talking about, that a Spanish-speaking, Spanish first language group that makes country. Of course, it’s Mexican folk and Tejano and Latin folk and all these other things as well – but it’s certainly country & western. [They were] making their debut and you could hear the building shaking through the radio. It felt like one of those iconic ovations we hear about from the old days, with everybody stamping their feet in the balcony of the Ryman. The Opry is still doing that. And not only are they doing it, but this year for Opry 100, they’re doing it over and over again where they’re having these shows with these special moments, reaching new audiences.
And it was a brilliant move, because those fans now have a general idea of what the Grand Ole Opry is, how it is performed, and they got to hear some music from people they maybe hadn’t heard of. I know Frank Ray was on the show that night, he might’ve gained some fans from those who came to see Grupo Frontera. It’s a win for everybody when an artist of that caliber plays the Opry.
There was a great moment, after doing some digging, where I found the full performance of when Porter Wagoner invited James Brown to come play the Opry. It was like a 20-minute segment – there are some things online where you hear bits and pieces of it. But the Opry archive had it from start to finish, so I just sat there and listened to it. There was some screaming and hollering going on that night, too. It was exhilarating to listen to it. Then I found an oral history from Porter Wagoner – I quoted it in the book – that said, when you bring someone of world-renowned stature to the Opry, it benefits the Opry. You want the Opry to be in the news, because it draws attention to the show.
We’ve already talked about Jeannie Seely, but I wrote my concluding question with her in mind, as well. She passed in August of this year and when she did she had performed on the Opry almost 5,400 times. (The number is 5,390-something.) That longevity is incredible. So thinking about longevity, we’re standing here at the milestone of a hundred years of the Grand Ole Opry, looking at potentially another 100 years of the Grand Ole Opry coming up.
Do you see this modern era of the Opry as its golden age? Do you think the golden age of the show is yet to come? And who are you seeing that’s just getting their start “in the circle” nowadays that is gonna be like Jeannie Seely in a few decades, thousands of appearances into their Opry career?
Yeah [the future] looks strong to me, too. Something I never put into context until I wrote the book was that in the 1990s the Opry lost Roy Acuff, Minnie Pearl, Grandpa Jones, Bill Monroe, and Dottie West. And you just think, “How do you recover from that?” They did. They figured out a way to press on.
There were definitely growing pains and bumps, but some of those figures that they picked out in the early 2000s have become advocates for the Opry, champions for the Opry. The ‘90s country stars that I love, like Lorrie Morgan, Pam Tillis, Vince Gill, Steve Wariner, and Marty Stuart are still out there. They still play the Opry – and they’re the elder statesmen now. I do think the cast members that joined in the ‘90s and 2000s are gonna become a foundation for the show.
I think you’ll be seeing Trisha Yearwood out there quite a bit as she settles into the “twilight years” of her career. I sense that she will be out there singing alongside Kathy Mattea and Suzy Bogguss. I think Opry is in really good hands with the young women that they’ve invited to be part of the cast. More than once, without any prompting, artists like Carly Pearce and Lauren Alaina have said they feel the responsibility to be here. And I think Lauren Alaina is very likely to inherit the comic routines of Jeannie Seely – she’s pretty much already there. She had us rolling in laughter in her interviews. She’s got the natural timing of a comedian, but she’s got hit songs, too.
I think the Opry is in really good shape right now. They’ve done a good job of connecting to a younger audience that wants to play it. It’s a career goal now for a lot of inspiring artists. I think when I moved here in the ‘90s it was seen as living history and you had to have some history to get on that stage. But now you just have to have a good story, some musical talent, and an ability to connect with an audience. That’s easier said than done, but if you can have those three things, the Opry will take a chance.
I think they’ve found a recipe for success. They set themselves up to succeed. There are times in the music industry where it seems like things are crumbling or those pillars are not as strong as they used to be. But I think right now the Opry is as strong as it’s ever been. I don’t see it going anywhere anytime soon.
Lead image courtesy of Ryman Hospitality Properties.
Ready for another batch of new songs and videos? Great! ‘Cause You Gotta Hear This.
It’s a roundup full of friendship and interpersonal connections this week. First up, Americana rockers Chamomile & Whiskey bring a new video for “Friends Are Falling Out.” In the vein of classic, folky alt-rock sounds, the track and video explore the fragility of relationships with a deep groove, distortion, and fiddle and banjo. But keep scrolling, as you’ll also find singer-songwriter Kim Moberg’s testament to the all-too-rare true friend with her new track, “I’ll Always Be A Friend.” The jangly modern folk number was born from Moberg’s desire to communicate to her old and new friends how important they are to her. The paeans to friendship continue with a new video from old-time/folk duo Paper Wings, who debuted their new single “Fumblin” earlier this week. It’s a double-guitar track about awkwardness, eagerness, and how we all stumble through life and through relationships.
There’s still more to enjoy elsewhere in our collection, too. Bluegrass icon Laurie Lewis has announced her upcoming 2026 album, O California! with a new video for “Look Down That Lonesome Road.” Lewis took the mournful ballad, wrote new verses, and set the lyric to a jammy, driving bluegrass tune that drips with her signature sounds. Plus, fiddler Andy Leftwich calls on his pal, guitarist Cody Kilby, to trade licks on a new original fiddle tune he’s just released called “Old Hickory.” You might never guess he first wrote the melody on guitar.
You won’t want to miss “The Doldrums” from New York Americana string band The Mammals. They’ve just dropped an animated video for the track from their recent project, Touch Grass, Vol. 1. The song might just be a cure for its own namesake; it’s a perfect selection to take with us into the often doldrums-heavy winter months. Finally, don’t miss a brand new single from iconic folk trio The Lone Bellow. Today they announced their upcoming record, which will release in February 2026 and was recorded in Muscle Shoals, Alabama. “You Were Living” finds the band with an expansive, resplendent sound that certainly sounds like The Lone Bellow, but steeped in the Shoals.
There’s plenty to find and enjoy in our conglomeration of new music. Scroll on for more. You Gotta Hear This!
Chamomile & Whiskey, “Friends Are Falling Out”
Artist:Chamomile & Whiskey Hometown: Charlottesville, Virginia Song: “Friends Are Falling Out” Release Date: November 19, 2025
In Their Words: “I wrote the line ‘that broken heart might just catch a break’ after meeting up with a friend of mine. She had regaled me with her latest story in a long line of bad relationships. I live in Charlottesville, which isn’t very big, and we’ve got plenty of small-town drama. The song kind of came out of some of that and the fragility of friendships. I finished writing it just before we celebrated 1,000 shows as a band.
“In preparation for the show, Marie and I did an in-studio performance at WNRN, a station we’ve long had a good relationship with. I thought it would be fun to try a brand new song. A few days later they told me that NPR Music had shared the video as their live song of the day. We felt like it must have some juice and we decided to record it ASAP. We all liked the mysterious, Southern Gothic aesthetic that we felt in the studio. Critter added the banjo on top of fiddles before laying down a glass slide part on the guitar. Marie and I grew up in Nelson County and that first Old Crow Medicine Show record, O.C.M.S., was huge in our circles and reminds me of driving around those beautiful backroads as a teenager. To have Critter put his signature sound on one of our songs was special and felt full circle.” – Koda Kerl
Track Credits: Koda Kerl – Guitar, lead vocals, songwriter Marie Borgman – Fiddle, backing vocals Bobby St. Ours – Fiddle, backing vocals Brian Gregory – Bass, backing vocals Critter Fuqua – Banjo, slide guitar, backing vocals Jesse Fiske – Baritone guitar, backing vocals Drew Kimball – Electric guitar Stuart Gunter – Drums
Video Credits: Directed by Johnny Saint Ours and Jenny Carhartt. Filmed at Dürty Nelly’s Pub
Andy Leftwich, “Old Hickory”
Artist:Andy Leftwich Hometown: Carthage, Tennessee Song: “Old Hickory” Release Date: November 21, 2025 Label: Mountain Home Music Company
In Their Words: “Every once in a while, you sit down with your instrument, a melody just falls out, and within a few minutes you have a fun, catchy melody! This is exactly what happened to me with this song. Even though it’s a fiddle tune, I actually wrote it on my guitar. After a few small changes to the melody, I finally landed on something that flowed well under the fingers – not only for the fiddle, but the lead guitar part as well. I was honored to have my good friend, Cody Kilby, take the lead guitar on this one! It’s so much fun to play and was named after ‘Old Hickory,’ a town near where I live.” – Andy Leftwich
Track Credits: Andy Leftwich – Fiddle, mandolin Byron House – Upright bass Cody Kilby – Acoustic guitar Matt Menefee – Banjo
Laurie Lewis, “Look Down That Lonesome Road”
Artist:Laurie Lewis Hometown: Berkeley, California Song: “Look Down That Lonesome Road” Album:O California! Release Date: November 21, 2026 (single/video); February 13, 2026 (album)
In Their Words: “I have been playing around with this song since I heard Gaither Carlton sing it decades ago as a mournful ballad. I love it that way, but it seemed to me that sometimes parting needn’t be so sad, if you know you get to meet again (maybe at a festival next year). I started writing verses for it and when I got up to about eight or ten, I decided it was time to get serious. I love the loose arc of the story and the way the band responds to it. We winnowed down the verses to the essentials, leaving the others for the extended jam version.” – Laurie Lewis
Track Credits: Laurie Lewis – Lead vocals, acoustic guitar Brandon Godman – Fiddle George Guthrie – Banjo, harmony vocal Hasee Ciaccio – Double bass, harmony vocal
Video Credits: Produced and directed by Bria Light. Recorded at the Strawberry Music Festival in Grass Valley, CA.
The Lone Bellow, “You Were Leaving”
Artist:The Lone Bellow Hometown: Nashville, Tennessee Song: “You Were Leaving” Album:What a Time to Be Alive Release Date: November 21, 2025 (single); February 13, 2026 (album) Label: Thirty Tigers
In Their Words: “‘You Were Leaving’ is a song about the fleeting, transient nature of life. For us, the song is deeply personal, but it also feels universal. It invites people to find their own story in it, what it means to say goodbye, and what stays with us long after the leaving.” – The Lone Bellow
The Mammals, “The Doldrums”
Artist:The Mammals Hometown: West Hurley, New York Song: “The Doldrums” Album:Touch Grass, Vol 1 Release Date: November 1, 2025 Label: Humble Abode Music
In Their Words: “I wrote ‘The Doldrums’ during a stretch of isolation when joy felt out of reach and time moved so strangely. ‘Why do the good times go so fast? Why do the doldrums linger and last?’ We tend to remember the hardest part of the day when we lay down to sleep, but this song reminds me to appreciate every amazing moment. I’m grateful this recording sounds triumphant and energized – like an anthem to shake out of a low vibration and shine a bright light into the future. For all who listen, may music and friendship help carry you through the next windless day. The Mammals have your back.” – Ruth Ungar
Track Credits: Ruth Ungar – Vocals, guitar, songwriter Mike Merenda – Guitars, banjo, vocals Brandon Morrison – Bass, vocals Will Bryant – Keys, vocals Tim Morrison – Drums
Video Credits: Animated and Directed by Anne Beal.
Kim Moberg, “I’ll Always Be A Friend”
Artist:Kim Moberg Hometown: Cape Cod, Massachusetts, the traditional territory of the Indigenous Nauset and Wampanoag Nations Song: “I’ll Always Be A Friend” Album:All That Really Matters Release Date: January 30, 2026 (album)
In Their Words: “As an artist who grew up listening to the amazing singer-songwriters of the 1970s, Carole King’s ‘You’ve Got A Friend’ is embedded in my heart. I love that her song and its message about connection, support, and loyalty have endured all of these many years. I was a military ‘brat’ who attended 10 different schools in 12 years, so growing up I never lived in one place long enough to be part of a friend group or a clique. I was always ‘the new kid’ who was never included. The rare true friend meant more than gold to me.
“‘I’ll Always Be A Friend’ was born from my desire to share how important the friends in my life have been and how equally important the new friends I get to connect with through performing are to me. In these uncertain and trying times, community and friendship are paramount. (And Libra loyalty lives strong in this song!)” – Kim Moberg
Track Credits: Kim Moberg – Lead vocal, acoustic guitar Jon Evans – Bass, tenor guitar, drums, percussion, Fender Rhodes, harmony vocals
In Their Words: “‘Fumblin’ is about friendship and watching one another stumble and fumble through the joys and trials of life. We wrote this one together in the backyard in a sort of trance state, describing scenes from our lives. It’s definitely a romanticization of awkwardness and our eagerness to connect as a species despite inevitable failure at times. We played double guitars on this one which we’ve been having fun doing lately. It’s the first track in the world of ours that I recorded and mixed in my studio in Nashville, so that’s quite exciting as well. We have a lot more music coming from this space, so look out!” – Wila Frank
Video Credits: Filmed by Sami Braman, edited by Wila Frank.
Photo Credit: The Lone Bellow by Debbie Ewing; Laurie Lewis and band by Dawn Kish.
In the late summer of 2022, Courtney Hartman realized that the songs she had written for a new album were not the songs she needed to release. “I had found out I was pregnant a few months earlier, [and already] had a batch of material I was working on for a new record. I felt this quiet urging to set all of that aside and give my attention to what was happening in our life and in my body,” she says.
She discarded everything and began writing her third album, With You, a personal journey through motherhood set to music.
“What was happening in our life” refers to a tumultuous string of events that saw Hartman and her husband, John, through the best and worst of times. Best because the couple were expecting their first child, rebuilding their house in Eau Claire, Wisconsin, and Hartman was on tour; worst because her husband fell off a ladder, could not work for months, lost two jobs, she was dropped by her booking agent, and they totaled their car.
The cumulative effect left the couple in need emotionally, physically, and financially. They soon found themselves uplifted by their community – their immediate one and her music community at large. The experience left Hartman deeply grateful and dedicated to giving back even more than she received.
In September of that year, Hartman began writing “in earnest” the songs that became With You. She and her husband welcomed their daughter in February 2023 – more best of times followed by worst of times as Hartman struggled with postpartum depression.
“At the end of [2023] I had all this material and realized I wanted to invite in other voices and stories and perspectives, specifically those of other mothers,” she says.
Once again, she drew on her community, calling on a fellowship of songwriter mothers – Sarah Siskind, Dawn Landes, Ana Egge, Tift Merritt, Kristin Andreassen, and Emily Frantz Marlin of Watchhouse – to help take her deeply personal new songs to an even higher level.
“I spent another few months, December [2023] to February [2024], writing mostly over Zoom, finishing the material with those other writers,” she says. With You was recorded in June and July 2024, at The Hive studio in Eau Claire, with Hartman producing and Brian Joseph as co-producer and engineer.
As one might expect from Hartman, there are plenty of guitars on the album – her Lawrence Smart Archtop, Bourgeois Parlor, PreWar (modeled after a Gibson J-45), Bischoff Dreadnought, Martin 00, and a Telecaster – but if you’re looking for the lightning flatpicking work that makes her a bluegrass force to reckon with, you’ll be best served on YouTube. With You tells a story that calls for understated guitars as a palette for its songs.
“Things weren’t all bright and shiny in that season,” she says, “but the impetus to write and pay attention helped me pay attention to some of those lighter moments. Not all the songs on With You are about everything being light, because that’s just not how it is. But there was this extra attention to some of those details that do help buoy your spirit when things are a little more challenging.”
Courtney Hartman’s ‘With You’ album cover art, created by Claire Lindwall.
Completing the journey is With You’s striking cover art. The work of Hartman’s close friend Claire Lindwall captures the music’s delicate intimacy. “Claire is primarily a watercolor artist and illustrator,” says Hartman. “A special part of creating an album, for me, is giving the music to someone who then translates it into a visual piece of art. Every time, it’s surprising and expansive in a new way.”
Lindwall cast her own hand and that of her daughter’s, and positioned the casts so that one holds the other. “We experimented with drawings around it, then having just a splash of watercolor behind the piece,” says Hartman. “That’s all it needed.”
With this album now making its full debut, how do you feel about sharing so much vulnerability?
Courtney Hartman: The processing has happened in phases. I think it started just by saying yes to writing the material. There was an accepting of, “I’m writing about this thing that feels more vulnerable and more naked than anything I’ve written about before.” Bringing those songs to other writers, to collaborators, there was another level of vulnerability there.
A year ago I brought all of this material to my greater community and asked for support, because at that point I needed help putting the album out. Now, to give it to the rest of my community and listeners in the world, there’s a level of vulnerability, but I feel mostly excited. It feels like, “We made it.”
You’ve explained in other interviews that you had to use funding meant for the songs that came before these in order to get back on your feet. Needing financial assistance is also a vulnerable place and one that often brings publicly imposed shame and guilt. How did you process it?
You’re bringing up something that my husband and I have been talking about a lot, just with the news cycle and trying to get an understanding of what we can do for folks in our community. And having had small tastes of that in our life, because I know what we’ve experienced is so small compared to what so many people live through and are currently living through.
An important [word] that you touched on is shame – the shame of needing help; of not feeling like you can do it on your own or you can stand on your own two feet; of needing help for basic things like groceries. I think maybe accepting help and accepting care expands our capacity to feel compassion and to be able to then care for others.
In a podcast for Acoustic Guitar, you used the phrase “the intimacy of sound.” Could you talk more about what that means in the songwriting and guitar playing?
What I hear when you reflect that phrase back to me is the sound of the skin of your finger on the guitar string, or the sound of hands against a percussive instrument. When we went into the studio, I told the friends that were with me there on the first day, “Just as a guiding directive, whenever we imagine a sound that we want to create, let’s see if we can find something natural to create it with.”
Everyone took it in their own way, some on their instruments. Sean Carey was heavily involved on the record and he took that more literally in a lot of the percussion work. He found a nest outside when he was wandering around and that became the percussion on a track. Or even just the sound of skin on skin being a sound that we used as well; bringing in and magnifying some of these quieter sounds and allowing that to be a part of the soundscape [was part of the intimacy of sound].
Did you select the guitars around the songs or did some of the songs develop around your guitars?
Sometimes you think you know what a song wants before going into the studio and then you sit behind a mic and you’re like, “This isn’t serving it quite right.” And sometimes that experimentation takes a little longer than you think it will. Or sometimes you sit down with a first instinct and it’s totally right. That’s part of the reason it’s fun to have a good array of instruments in the studio.
Is the guitar as much a part of expressing your feelings as the lyrics?
It is. I think part of that comes from how long it’s been an instrument that feels like a voice to me. Songwriting came around the same time. I was about 12 when I started writing songs. Singing feels like something I still have so much exploration and learning to do.
How did working with other mothers, and their lived experiences, bring understanding to what you were going through?
What I was given [was the] shared experience and the acknowledgement of, “This is really hard. It’s really beautiful, but it’s also really challenging.”
So much of the caregiving that happens [as a mother], especially in that first year … so much of it is invisible. Maybe an aspect of that applies to all sorts of giving care – that it’s invisible other than to the one giving the care and the one receiving the care. When you feel invisible, it can also make you feel isolated and that can really feed into some of the struggles. A lot of folks have postpartum [depression] and societally we’re not set up to honor and support that season very well at all. It’s something I care a lot about, both from experiences with my family, but also as I’ve delved into work as a birth doula.
When you say, “Societally we’re not set up to honor and support that season very well at all,” what do we need to do?
We need to honor and uphold the importance of rest and nutrition and preparation. Parents are prepared for “Here’s what birth might look like,” but after that six-week checkup [traditional care usually ends]. Postpartum extends far longer than that.
A lot of [postpartum] mental health struggles won’t show up until maybe nine months or a year after a child is born. Better supporting [people postpartum] that would be the first thing I can think of. We live pretty isolated lives, as families in our insular homes, and so we’re not set up to receive support very well.
Or ask for it.
Yes, totally, [we need to be] preparing [people] to know that this is a time to accept and receive care. Preparing your heart for that is such a big piece of it, to know that we, as your village and your community, want to care for you in this time.
You’ve spoken openly about postpartum depression. What was that period of time like for you?
Moments of real happiness, but also moments of hitting my head against the wall … when I was struggling. [It was] hard to admit to myself and then to speak that [struggle] out loud to anybody. It wasn’t until afterwards that I could say, “That was hard.”
All depression is misunderstood and will often make people in your circle run away.
Let’s go back to your community, and the community of mothers, and how they lifted you.
I felt so cared for by our community in a way that was deeply humbling and in a way that somehow prepared me to do some of the caregiving that was going to be required of me. I was receiving so much love and support and meals and folks showing up. That kind of care is life-changing. It changes the way we see the world and our community around us.
My daughter was about nine months old or so when I started reaching out to other mothers, asking if they would collaborate on some songwriting. Having some tether creatively helped pull me through that season. It helped weave together the woman I was prior to having a child with the woman I was in that new space. … Sometimes it feels like … you almost can’t remember who you were before.
I was really afraid of [losing parts of myself]. I was afraid I wouldn’t create music again. There’s all these fears, irrational or not, that show up. Creating and being able to have these conversations that normalize what you’re experiencing. Having women who are [a] few years ahead of me be like, “It might be extra-challenging now, but it doesn’t stay that way forever.”
It’s almost 2026 and society still misunderstands and stigmatizes mental health, certainly PPD, and even some aspects of pre- and postpartum healthcare. Why are we uncomfortable talking about things that are so natural and important to discuss? Are we making progress or going backward?
I hope we’re making progress. It was a lot easier for me to ask, “Why don’t we talk about these things?” when I wasn’t part of the “we.” As soon as it was also part of my story to talk about and share, [I had to come] to terms with my own hesitancy. Why do I not want to talk about something as normal as pregnancy and motherhood in my songs? Why do I feel like if I put this music out, it will be discredited and potentially ignored, even though it may speak to so much of the population? …
I still don’t have an answer. Maybe it’s because there’s so many generations of women having to hide those things for fear of losing wages, or jobs, or discrimination, whatever it might be. For everybody’s sake, there’s so much we have to learn from mothers’ voices, and I hope we’re beginning to really listen.
On a podcast, The Other 22 Hours, you reflected on the period after Della Mae and the realization, at the time, that “Music was not a healing thing.” What role does music now play in your healing and mental health?
It has become healing again. Years ago, I was dealing with physical pain in my hands. That was magnified by touring all the time, being on the road so much, and the strain on my body. So I was speaking about it in a physical way. [Music] has become a lot more than just physically healing [for me]. I think this album exemplifies that.
You have worked with so many people. Who is your wish-list artist or artists?
Oh my gosh. The first person that came to mind – and maybe it’s because I’ve been listening to her record all week – I would love to play music in the same room as Brandi Carlile. She gives all of herself and it’s so good.
We had a listening party [for With You] and as I was listening to the album for the first time with a whole group of friends and collaborators, what I hear on it is my friends and heroes, which is such a joy. There are so many folks on this album that I look up to so much and who have been dream collaborators. So, in that way, a lot of it has been a dream list fulfilled.
When Joshua Ray Walker received a cancer diagnosis in early 2024, he thought he only had months to live. This led him to contemplate not only his life and what he’s done with it, but his possessions and what would happen to them if he were to perish.
His latest album, Stuff, is the culmination of that pondering. Across 10 songs, the Dallas-based singer breathes life into a variety of inanimate objects ranging from a brick to the scent of perfume on sheets, bowling balls striving for perfect games, and even Barbie dolls eyeing everlasting love. Despite its deeply personal nature, the record leans into universal themes of grief and mourning since we’re all ultimately destined to suffer the same fate.
“We’ve all had someone in our lives die,” he says. “That’s why love and death are go-to topics for most songwriters – they’re two of our most universal concepts.”
With his future uncertain, Walker threw the rule book out for recording Stuff. Teaming up with longtime producer John Pedigo inside his home studio, the duo laid down everything on their own in a week – even instruments like the synth and melodica that Walker had never tinkered with before. The result is the “Sexy After Dark” singer’s most personal, dark, experimental, and hopeful album all rolled into one.
“Growing up everyone wanted to make records in their bedroom, but I never knew anyone with nice enough equipment to actually do it,” says Walker, who’s now stacked up a year’s worth of clean CT scans. “In junior high and high school I remember recording vocals in my friend’s laundry room or sneaking into a friend’s house whose mom had a piano and recording parts on it on the fly. There’s just always been something really fun about trying to make something sound the way we wanted from a sound people wouldn’t expect.”
Ahead of Stuff’s release, Walker spoke with Good Country from inside his van stacked to the gills with merch ahead of a run supporting Molly Tuttle. Our conversation covered his health struggles, the healing nature of writing these songs, experimenting in the studio, and more.
How’d the idea for this album come about?
Joshua Ray Walker: Before I even got sick I had thought about writing a song or album from the perspective of inanimate objects. Once I fell ill, I made a plan with my best friend and producer, John Pedigo, to write a song every week so that at the end of my year [at] home doing treatment I could have 50 new songs. When you’re planning to write that much, it’s easier if you pick a theme.
At the time, I was also starting to do estate planning for myself due to the nature of my advanced cancer. Even though I had multiple family members die where I was the main person who had to deal with their belongings after they passed, it was an eye-opening experience. So somewhere between the inanimate object song idea and thinking about where all my personal belongings would go if I died, I came up with the idea to write a whole album of songs from the perspective of stuff that was left over at an estate sale.
Subconsciously I was feeling like a burden to people. Anytime you’re sick, it’s a lot of effort that your loved ones have to put in, and even though they reassure you that you’re not a burden, it doesn’t stop you from thinking that way. [On this album] I was trying to think about that while projecting onto these items how leftover stuff can be a burden even after its owner is dead and gone.
Were any of the songs on Stuff more difficult to bring to life than others?
There were around 30 different ideas for the actual items, so the ones that got made were the ones that came the quickest since we were in a time crunch to make the record. If it was difficult it just didn’t end up getting written.
That being said, there was definitely some unexpected stuff. Like on “Brick” – I wasn’t necessarily expecting a brick to make it on the record, but it actually ended up being one of my favorites. I’ve always been very nostalgic for physical items as well, which only made it easier to connect with these objects. It made for a fun challenge writing from these perspectives and trying to get people to relate to it or have some emotional response. I’m known for being able to write from a character’s perspective and have been fascinated by how fictional characters can conjure up real emotions. It made me wonder if I could take things a step further and get people to feel something for these fictional objects.
Well, I’d say mission accomplished!
In addition to the concept and lyrical depth of these songs I also adore the sonic direction as well, which pulls from your previous material at times while navigating into pop, electronic, and other territory elsewhere. What motivated you to take that approach?
Because of where I was at with my health when we were conceptualizing the record, I really just wanted to explore some sounds that I’ve always loved and been influenced by, but didn’t make sense for the projects I worked on previously. Since I wasn’t sure how many more records I would be able to make I wanted to have as few limitations on what I was making as possible. If you put yourself in a box it forces you to be pretty creative. The rules were that John and I had to play all the instruments and we could only use ones we already had inside his home studio. It forced us to stretch a bit from our normal production style and was a lot of fun to make. We did it all in a week, locking ourselves in the studio for as many as 14 hours a day to get it all done.
Were there any instruments you played that you hadn’t tinkered with much before, if at all?
I played a lot of the keys, which I’d never really done before.I’d never played synths or melodica before, either. There were also just a lot of weird ambient sounds on the record. At one point we even had a sponge tucked under the bridge of a guitar as I was playing the strings with drumsticks, giving it a dulcimer-esque sound. We also utilized paper clips on ukulele strings to make them rattle, the pull string from a lamp on a cymbal so it would sizzle and random cups and pillows as percussion on the song “Stuff” – we wanted to turn non-instruments into instruments.
One of the songs I love most on Stuff is “Barbie,” a song about playing with dollhouses that contains some of the best one-liners on the whole record like, “…Do you want to play house with me and practice making babies?” Tell me about how it came to be?
Like you said, it’s a song about kids playing house put onto the characters of Barbie and G.I. Joe. It’s Barbie looking out her window and seeing G.I. Joe get played with in the sandbox and pining for this love connection. For one reason or another, G.I. Joe makes it into the house one day and they have the chance to run off in her Jeep and canoodle. When you’re a kid you don’t even really know what that means, but if you watch kids play with dolls at some point they’re going to make them kiss. They know people fall in love, but they don’t understand how or why – they’re just acting out what they see their parents doing. Such a big part of childhood is trying to figure out what all that means, so I thought it’d be funny to have Barbie trying to work that out for herself in this song.
Sounds like it has the potential to lead to a lot of conversations about the birds and the bees between parents and their kids. [Laughs]
Another song I want to ask you about is “Bowling Ball,” which features by far your lowest vocal register on the entire album. Tell me about your decision with that along with what made you want to bring a bowling ball of all things to life?
I don’t bowl much anymore, but used to be in a league when I was a kid. There’s a local bowling alley in my neighborhood called Jupiter Lanes that I’ve been very nostalgic for since I had a birthday party there and won a Johnny Bravo bowling ball when I was eight. [John Pedigo] is also a good bowler who grew up with a mom who worked at a bowling alley. We both know more about bowling than the average person, which allowed us to write a song from the ball’s perspective pretty well.
It’s got the best beginning, middle, and end to any song on the record, because it’s one short story about someone getting ready to finally bowl a perfect game. Only a frame away they throw too hard and pick up a chip or crack in the ball return, leading to a “put me in coach” or Rudy moment. They’re contemplating whether to walk over to the pro shop to get a new ball to finish out their first perfect game or continue on with ole faithful that got you there.
In terms of the vocal delivery, that’s pitch-shifted down with a Whammy pedal – I simply don’t have that kind of range on my own. That’s also something you’re just not allowed to do on a typical country record, which is another rule I guess we broke.
I gotta know more about this Johnny Bravo bowling ball!
I got it from that bowling league I mentioned, which was sponsored by Cartoon Network. At the end of the league, if you placed in the top three you were able to pick out a custom ball with whatever Cartoon Network character you wanted on it. The color was called galaxy, which is this purple kind of nebula-like color with Johnny Bravo etched into the side. It was awesome!
I remember choosing between him and Dexter, but I wound up choosing Johnny because of my dad, who would jokingly do an impression of Johnny Bravo’s voice that I loved. I also just related to that character and had a blonde pompadour haircut of my own.
You mentioned the song being about the journey to bowling a perfect game. Have you ever tossed one?
Definitely not. [Laughs] The best I’ve ever done is in the 220 range. I peaked at bowling when I was around nine years old. If I were to go bowling right now I would not do well at all.
With how much you’ve stepped outside your comfort zone on Tropicana and Stuff, what direction do you see taking next, musically?
I have a lot of projects, but only thought I’d have a couple years to make them, so I focused on jotting all of them down since I tend to see records as entire concepts, not just collections of songs. I have an autobiographical project I’m wrapping up now, but I also have a western trilogy on my mind along with a bluegrass record and even something a bit heavier.
Hopefully I’ll get to keep making records and all of these projects will come to light. Even though my music sounds different record to record they’re all still country in my mind. I’m always trying to make country music, whether it sounds like that or not.
What has Stuff and everything you’ve experienced the last couple of years taught you about yourself?
I hold onto things a lot less now than I used to. But in general, I just want to spend more time doing things I like with people that I like. This health scare has taught me to make music however I feel like making it and to do it as much as I can while I still can.
Artist:Ocie Elliott Hometown: Victoria, British Columbia, Canada Latest Album:Bungalow (released October 24, 2025) Personal Nicknames (or rejected band names): Jon and Ra
What has been the best advice you’ve received in your career so far?
Keep playing, keep writing. Don’t be precious with songs. There isn’t one right way, be yourself goddamnit!
What’s your favorite memory from being on stage?
Somewhat unexpectedly being invited to join Zach Bryan for his song “28” when we opened for him at Red Rocks this summer. We were handed wireless mics backstage and, not knowing when to sing or where to stand, were instructed to “just go for it!” – in front of thousands of people wrapped in towers of sandstone formations enveloping the sound. It felt like my sense of self dipped and pure elation took its place… like there was nothing I could do to stop my entire body from singing.
Another experience that comes to mind was one of our earlier shows, playing for 10 to 20 people in a secret locker room during a local festival in Victoria, BC. – Sierra
What other art forms – literature, film, dance, painting, etc. – influence your music?
For me, it’s mainly literature and films that influence my music and I suppose they do so more in a lyrical sense, by informing how I see the world and interact within it. I know for me, the times I feel most inspired in life is when I have been reading a great book or have just finished watching a really inspiring film. I love foreign films, especially, because they can often give such unique and also universal perspectives and open your frame of mind. – Jon
What musician has influenced you the most – and how?
Kurt Cobain. When I first heard and saw Kurt Cobain in the “Smells Like Teen Spirit” video my life changed forever. I can still recall the weird feeling of hearing his voice and almost not understanding it, in a way, and being so pulled in that I was dumbfounded. Kurt Cobain and his songs and voice made me really fall in love with music in an intense way. The fact that sound could have such an effect and inspire such feelings of pleasure and energy was life-changing and life-affirming.
What is a genre, artist, song you adore that may surprise people?
I love hip-hop/rap music, not that that should really surprise anyone, since the vast majority of musicians listen to every style of music, I think. But there was definitely a long period of my life (four to five years, at least) where I mostly listened to hip-hop. A Tribe Called Quest, Wu-Tang Clan, De La Soul, People Under the Stairs, and Outkast being my favorite artists overall.
Hear ye, hear ye! A fresh collection of new music, premieres, videos, singles, and more is here. You Gotta Hear This…
To start off, Good Country purveyors, Texan duo Briscoe, offer a brand new music video for “Free.” It’s a track from their new album inspired by lessons learned by Truett Heintzelman from his grandfather, as well as an ode to the Texas roots he shares with his grandad – and with his bandmate, Philip Lupton, too. Also bringing a newly minted video, singer-songwriter Rachael Sage and her band the Sequins celebrate love, friendships, and togetherness on “Belong To You.” The adorable music video was created by hosting an open casting call inviting participants to arrive and join in the taping with whomever they “love the most.” Sidle up to your loved ones and click play.
Bluegrass guitar great Bryan Sutton sits down with mandolinist Sierra Hull for a new rendition of an instrumental classic, “Grandfather’s Clock,” this week, too. But, this time, Hull is playing a six-string instead. Did you know she’s an equally accomplished guitar picker? Meanwhile, Sutton quite fittingly performs the tune on a guitar once owned by his own grandpa. Elsewhere, you’ll find South Carolina-based gospel bluegrass band Eighteen Mile sharing a new single below. “What Mercy Means” is an excellent example of how the long relationship between gospel and sacred music and bluegrass and old-time continues today.
Keep scrolling, though, because we have two more videos for you to enjoy. If you have young roots music fans around – or if you’re young at heart – the Okee Dokee Brothers have an adorable new animated music video for their track, “Little Old You.” Sure, the Brothers make children’s music, but this is listenable at all ages, that’s for sure. The message of the track is sweet and timely, as they put it: “…We’re [all] infinitely big in all our little ways.”
And, finally, the cosmic and (literally) magical Valerie June has a new single out this week and an accompanying visualizer you won’t want to miss. “Rollin’ and Tumblin'” is raucous, impassioned, and brash – just how we like June’s music – and demonstrates yet again how complex and inviting this indie-string-folk mastermind can be. Especially when she brings the blues and the banjo together in exciting ways like this.
There’s plenty to watch and hear, so let’s get to it! ‘Cause seriously, You Gotta Hear This.
Briscoe, “Free”
Artist:Briscoe Hometown: Austin, Texas Song: “Free” Album:Heat of July Release Date: September 19th, 2025 (album); November 14, 2025 (video) Label: ATO Records
In Their Words: “I’ve learned a great deal of lessons from my grandfather and the life that he lived so well. He was chock full of wisdom and always keen to share that wisdom with me and my siblings. Perhaps the most important thing he taught me was the art of moderation and the joy in being content with what you have. ‘Free’ is an ode to him and the Texas roots we both share, as well as a reminder for people of all walks to savor a life lived right down the middle.” – Truett Heintzelman
Artist:Valerie June Hometown: Humboldt, Tennessee (now Memphis, Tennessee and New York, New York) Song: “Rollin’ and Tumblin'” Release Date: November 12, 2025 (single) Label: Concord
In Their Words: “Working with producer and bassist Matt Marinelli and drummer Andy Macleod brings a wild, rambunctious twist to this old blues standard, “Rollin’ and Tumblin’.” I love taking the banjo out of its traditional comfort zone and driving it into a raw, heavy, metallic space – like someone tossing and turning through sleepless nights until they finally let go.
“Decades of digging into how the blues bleeds into every style have taught me one thing – those roots never die. Every time I twist that sound through my own work, I find new ways to grow and let those old ghosts roar again.” – Valerie June
Track Credits: Valerie June – Vocals, banjo Matt Marinelli – Basses, producer, engineer Andy Macleod – Drums
Video Credits: Filmed at Magnolia Pearl in Fredericksburg, Texas by Brights and in Big Sur, California by Dr. Ietef Vita.
Eighteen Mile, “What Mercy Means”
Artist:Eighteen Mile Hometown: Upstate South Carolina Song: “What Mercy Means” Release Date: November 14, 2025
In Their Words: “I’ve always been intrigued by the mental picture of Moses climbing up Mount Sinai to meet God in Exodus 34.The Bible paints a picture that the mountain was dark and terrifying and it even describes earthquakes and thunder, all because the holy presence of God was there. I wrote this song to capture the divine tension of a powerful holy God meeting an unholy man. The song then relates the Bible story to my personal story, that even though I deserve the punishment that comes from being a sinner before a holy God, he surprises me with overflowing mercy every morning instead.” – Carson Aaron
Track Credits: Hallie Ritter – Upright bass Carson Aaron – Acoustic guitar, lead vocal, songwriter Emily Guy – Harmony vocal Jack Ritter – Banjo, harmony vocal Savannah Aaron – Fiddle Andy Leftwich – Mandolin, mandola, acoustic guitar Steve Pettit – Mandolin
The Okee Dokee Brothers, “Little Old You”
Artist:The Okee Dokee Brothers Hometown: Denver, Colorado Song: “Little Old You” Album:Little Old You Release Date: November 11, 2025 (video); November 7, 2025 (album) Label: Okee Dokee Music
In Their Word: “This tune is a special one for us. It reminds us that we’re infinitely big in all our little ways. Even our tiniest feelings ripple like oceans, our dreams comfort the night, and our smiles can light the way for others.” – Justin Lansing
“It’s a gentle anthem to our place in the cosmos – showing that our smallest actions have big effects. We are silly and wise, young and old, and infinitely big in all our little ways.” – Joe Mailander
Track Credits: Justin Lansing – Vocals, guitar Joe Mailander – Vocals, guitar Dean Jones – Organ
Video Credits: Directed by Jack Carr. Art Directed by Zachariah Ohora. Animated by Tom Jolliffe & David Jenkins.
Rachael Sage & The Sequins, “Belong to You”
Artist:Rachael Sage & The Sequins Hometown: Hudson Valley, New York Song: “Belong To You” Album:Canopy Release Date: November 14, 2025 Label: MPress Records
In Their Words: “‘Belong To You’ is the first song I’ve intentionally composed as a gospel ballad. It meant the world to me that many of The Sequins ended up singing on the arrangement, rather than me performing all the harmonies myself (as has often been the case). Kevin J. Killen’s soulful Hammond organ and guitar playing and Will Wilde’s incredible blues harmonica add so much; Dave Eggar’s cello performance keeps everything grounded so beautifully.We all genuinely feel so much love and devotion for one another, so the vibe that was captured via our friendships really mirrors the lyrics and adds so many beautiful layers of emotion.
“Because it’s one of the more universal songs on the record, it’s been really magical to perform it live, and have audience members at the gigs share their individual interpretations of it with us. Trina Hamlin, who also sings on the track, has been singing it with me live lately and it makes it very easy to sing about unconditional love and friendship when one of your best friends is harmonizing with you!” – Rachael Sage
Track Credits: Rachael Sage – Lead vocals, background vocals, piano Doug Yowell – Drums Dave Eggar – Cello Kerry Brooks – Upright bass Will Wilde – Harmonica Kevin J. Killen – Acoustic guitar, electric guitar, Hammond B3 organ, background vocals Trina Hamlin – Background vocals Mikhail Pivovarov – Background vocals
Video Credits: Jenny He – Director, producer Shadow Play Pictures, LLC. – Production company MPress Records – Executive producer
Bryan Sutton, “Grandfather’s Clock” (with Sierra Hull)
Artist:Bryan Sutton with Sierra Hull Hometown: Nashville, Tennessee Song: “Grandfather’s Clock” Album:From Roots to Branches Release Date: November 14, 2025 (single) Label: Mountain Home Music Company
In Their Words: “I’m so happy to have Sierra Hull on this record. We chose the song, ‘Grandfather’s Clock,’ just because it’s a classic, beautiful melody. A lot of people know what a great mandolin player Sierra is, but I’ve always known what a great guitar player she is. This song meant a lot to us and, in fact, I’m playing my grandfather’s old Martin 0-17 guitar on this track.” – Bryan Sutton
“Bryan is one of my favorite musicians in the world to listen to and make music with. He knows how to elevate any musical situation he enters. Whether he is supporting a simple melody with pure tone and restraint or providing a wave of rhythmic brilliance and musical playfulness to ride along with, he always knows how to make things feel and sound easy. He’s one of my biggest heroes, so I’m both honored and thrilled to get to be a part of this new duets project with him!” – Sierra Hull
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.
When country singer-songwriter and community-builder Luke Bell passed away in 2022, he left an enormous vacuum in the scenes that made him and adored him. But, he left an even larger legacy. His only posthumous album, The King Is Back, was released last week after being lovingly compiled by his mother Carol, sister Jane, and his team, friends, and collaborators – many of whom perform the LP’s 28 Bell-penned songs. It’s a devastating and heartfelt collection that benefits the Luke Bell Memorial Affordable Counseling Program. Learn more and donate here.
Suzy Bogguss is a country artist and singer-songwriter who’s won a GRAMMY, two CMA Awards, and an ACM award, and has had eight original songs become top 10 hits on the country charts across her career. Now, she’s adding another impressive title to her resumé: Grand Ole Opry Member! Last month, while her longtime friend Kathy Mattea celebrated her own induction into the Opry, Mattea interrupted her performance of “Eighteen Wheels and a Dozen Roses” (with Bogguss, Trisha Yearwood, and Terri Clark singing along) to surprise Suzy with her own invitation. Congratulations, Suzy! (She’ll be inducted in early 2026.)
It would be hard to find a more prolific artist-producer-actor in country these days. Shooter Jennings is everywhere, producing albums for Jake Owen, Charley Crockett, Jeremy Pinnell, and the Turnpike Troubadours this year alone. In addition, he’s reached back into the archive of his outlaw father, Waylon Jennings, to release Songbird, the first in a three-album series of posthumous Waylon releases curated by Shooter. His influence is everywhere in modern country – and we’re glad about that.
Read our brand new feature on Shooter Jennings and the new Waylon project, Songbird, here.
We first heard about Memphian modern blues-Americana family band Southern Avenue way back in 2017 and now, more than eight years later, they’re nominated for a GRAMMY! Their most recent album, Family, dropped in April and gained the group their second GRAMMY nomination last week for Best Contemporary Blues Album. The band showcases how Memphis, though it’s often overlooked in favor of its nearby music city sisters, produces fascinating, genre-blending roots music dripping with personality.
Everyone’s favorite Canadian cowboy recluse is back with more of his signature raw, down-to-earth, and grizzled country & western sound. Memories and Empties, Wall’s first studio release in two years, is out today. Tracked in Nashville at the legendary RCA Studio A with his touring band, Scary Prairie Boys, and production by bandmate Pat Lyons, it’s a stellar collection of traditional, working-class, flatland-steeped country that wouldn’t even dare to try getting above its raising. Plus, it celebrates the communities and relationships often obscured or overlooked in songs and recordings that sound like this. Good Country? That’s for damn sure.
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Photo Credits: Luke Bell by Mike Vanata; Suzy Bogguss, Kathy Mattea, and Trisha Yearwood at the Grand Ole Opry by Chris Hollo; Shooter Jennings by Jared Christopher; Southern Avenue by Rory Doyle; Colter Wall by Jake Zielke.
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