MIXTAPE: Mother Banjo’s Womenfolk Playlist for Hard Times

Long before I picked up a banjo and started writing songs, I was a fan — an awkward teenage girl that stayed at home on Friday nights so I could listen to WKSU’s Profiles in Folk show. I found solace in the singer-songwriters that shared their heartfelt stories of hope and heartbreak. I most identified with the women artists like Dar Williams and Shawn Colvin, who spoke to me in every stage of life and became a key part of my road trip mixes and my playlists as I hosted my first college radio show more than 21 years ago.

I still host a radio show to this day — Womenfolk, highlighting the best in women’s folk/acoustic music on KFAI 90.3 FM Minneapolis. I’ve gotten to interview some of my biggest sheroes, including Joan Baez, Indigo Girls, and of course Dar and Shawn. It is the best way for me to stay connected to the next generation of songwriters, find new inspiration and introduce today’s awkward teens to female voices that speak to being yourself, finding love and embracing the hope that exists even in the darkest of times. I created this particular mix of mostly new songs to help me through pregnancy, reminding myself to be ferociously authentic and kind, no matter what life hurls at us. — Mother Banjo

Our Native Daughters – “Black Myself”

One of my favorite albums of 2019, Songs of Our Native Daughters features four African American banjo-playing singers (many of whom have been staples of my radio show), including Rhiannon Giddens, Allison Russell, Leyla McCalla and Amythyst Kiah. Like this opening track, the whole album speaks to standing tall no matter what.

Vicky Emerson – “The Reckoning”

I have known Vicky Emerson a long time and have had the privilege of playing shows around the country with her, including a double release show we did this year in Minneapolis. Taking the production reigns, Vicky has released her most fully realized album to date with songs like this that speak to these times and showcase amazing voices, including Kari Arnett, Annie Fitzgerald and Sarah Morris.

Lena Elizabeth – “Get It Right”

One of my favorite young talents to come out of the Twin Cities music scene, Lena Elizabeth just put out her first full-length album featuring this title track. She’s embarking on her first tour this year so catch her if you can.

Jillian Rae – “Free”

Minneapolis fiddler Jillian Rae has played with many notable acoustic bands including The Okee Dokee Brothers, Brass Kings and Corpse Reviver. But around these parts, she’s probably better known for her own songwriting project that mixes Americana, rock and pop. This song is from her more acoustic EP, Wanderlust.

Tracy Grammer – “Hole”

Dave Carter and Tracy Grammer were hugely influential on my songwriting. (I even covered the tune “Anyway I Do” on my gospel record.) When Tracy released her first EP after Dave’s death, I was blown away and eagerly awaited her next solo project. Fourteen years later, we were finally blessed with Low Tide, featuring this awesome non-radio friendly tune.

Emily Haavik & The 35s – “Candle”

Duluth native Emily Haavik writes terrific songs with honest lyrics and infectious hooks. This song always makes me feel better no matter what state I’m in.

Heather Styka & The Sentimentals – “Love Harder”

I’ve known Heather Styka for years, but I’ll never forget when I first heard her sing this at a late-night showcase at Folk Alliance International Conference. I cried as everyone joined her in this cathartic anthem. If you haven’t already, check out her new album North–this song won’t be the only that will make you cry.

The OK Factor – “Love Song for Lucy”

Originally from Iowa, this dynamic string duo can do anything they set their mind to–re-interpreting pop songs, putting their own spin on traditional tunes and writing timeless pieces like this. The OK Factor’s new EP is a collection of love songs and lullabies.

The Lowland Lakers – “Time to Move Along”

Haley Rydell’s voice never ceases to move me, nor her deceptively simple songwriting. Although The Lowland Lakers are currently on hiatus while songwriting partner Nate Case is studying in Germany, Haley continues to play music solo and with the band Buffalo Gospel.

I’m With Her – “Overland”

I’m With Her is a folk supergroup needs no introduction. From my first listening, this song was one of my favorites as it hearkens to the best old folk songs–telling a personal story in the context of a changing country. This tune just feels timeless.

Amy Helm – “Michigan”

One of my all-time favorite singers, Amy Helm put on one of my favorite shows of the past year at the Dakota Jazz Club, blowing me away with this Milk Cartons Kids cover. This studio version from her new album features some amazing harmonies by Allison Russell (Our Native Daughters, Birds of Chicago) and Russell’s partner JT Nero.

Sarah Morris – “Confetti”

Sarah Morris does the impossible, writing songs about being kind without being saccharine or condescending. I love everything about this track–the message, the melody, her singing and her amazing band that bring this song to life.

Mavis Staples – “We Go High”

Quite simply, Mavis Staples is my favorite–as a singer, an activist and a relatable human that brings joy to all who get to experience her music. Although she is 79, this latest studio album proves her best days are not behind her. Thank God.

Mother Banjo – “Will Your House Be Blessed?”

Written by British songwriter and crime novelist John B. Spencer, this song is one I learned from Rani Arbo & Daisy Mayhem. It has become a favorite of the Mother Banjo Band and a staple of our live shows. It feels even more relevant now in our political climate and has become such a personal anthem for me, I couldn’t imagine not putting it on my new album, Eyes on the Sky.


Photo credit: Elli Rader

WATCH: Korby Lenker, “I’m Tryin'” (feat. Eliot Bronson)

Artist: Korby Lenker
Hometown: East Nashville
Song: “I’m Tryin” (feat. Eliot Bronson)
Album: Morse Code Soundtrack
Release Date: March 29, 2019
Label: Soundly Music

In Their Words: “Morse Code is the name of my dramedy web series, about a smart-but-dumb folksinger trying to make good in music without alienating everyone around him. Each episode features a new original song, and today marks the release of Episode 3 and its accompanying song, ‘I’m Tryin’.’ I wrote this one with Eliot Bronson, who joins me here for a live take. It’s a song written from the perspective of the main character, Simon, to his 10-year-old daughter. Life on the road has all but undone Simon’s family life, and at this point in the story, he’s realized he wants to change; he just doesn’t know how.” — Korby Lenker

The first season of Morse Code will run for 10 episodes.
Watch Episode 3: Turd Free
Watch all three episodes of Morse Code


Photo credit: Cody Duncum

Over the Rhine Hold on to Hope in ‘Love & Revelation’

In the 30 years since Karin Bergquist and Linford Detwiler made their debut as Over the Rhine, the husband-and-wife duo have established themselves as thoughtful storytellers painting cinematic scenes with their poetic lyrics, pastorally beautiful soundscapes and Karin’s sultry vocal delivery. On Love & Revelation, Bergquist and Detwiler take a nuanced approach, exploring grief as it relates to saying goodbye to loved ones and questioning what it means to hold on to hope as an American in 2019.

BGS: Love & Revelation begins with “Los Lunas,” a song about saying goodbye to a longtime love. That theme of dealing with loss seems to open up and run throughout the album.

Detwiler: A lot of what we’re processing on our new record is this idea that certain things are carried with you for a lifetime. The record opens with the words “I cried.” It sort of tips our hand to the fact that there’s a fair bit of grief on this record. When I mentioned that to my 87-year-old mother, she said, “Well, Linford, that sounds like the Psalms.” All of us like to sort of tout our roots and older music that we’re listening to. I like the fact that my mom immediately went to the oldest songbook that I know of, which would be The Psalms in the Old Testament and immediately began talking about how so many of those songs and poems begin with some kind of lament.

The lyrics of “Los Lunas,” like so many Over the Rhine songs, have a cinematic quality, though the specific details of what led to these two people parting ways in that song isn’t clear. Other songs’ meanings seem to open up after repeated listens. They paint pictures that don’t necessarily solidify into something that can be explained using literal description. How do you pull that off?

I don’t like listeners to feel lost and sort of at sea when they’re listening to our songs. I like them to have some sense of what they’re participating in. [Laughs] That being said, our friend Joe Henry talks about “abiding the mystery” and sort of welcoming and recognizing the mystery that’s part of the process and art of songwriting. There is something on an intuitive level that’s sometimes being communicated.

As somebody that’s marking 30 years of writing, recording and life on the road now, I do find myself trying to simplify my writing. What is the most concise, direct way I can break a heart wide open? [Laughs] I hope our songs are like that. There’s something immediate that invites anybody on any level to enter in and begin participating, but I hope there’s some fine print in there, too, where you have to work a little harder.

There’s a line in “Let You Down” that describes grief as “love with nowhere to go,” which really stopped me in my tracks. What inspired that concept?

I was thinking about some friends and family members that were struggling. So many of us have been called upon to lay loved ones to rest. We have friends who have lost children or friends and family that are facing chronic illness or some kind of daunting cancer diagnosis. Just from my perspective now, I realize it’s so much more important just to show up and be with somebody and listen. I don’t necessarily come from the orientation that everything can be fixed.

So, that concept of grief being a kind of love with no place to go, that’s a conversation I’ve had with people that have lost children. There is this sense of holding this love for somebody and not knowing really what to do with it. At this point, if you lose a child, that’s not something that you should get over. You should carry that with you. That’s part of your life experience. That’s something that you’re going to think about every day.

Another thing about “Let You Down” is you, Linford, are singing a full-on duet with Karin, which I don’t think I’ve heard before on an Over the Rhine album. You’re also singing together on “Betting on the Muse.” What led you to step out as a vocalist after all these years?

I had a real stumbling block about singing. I didn’t like my voice. I’m sure some smart therapist could help me figure out where the seed of that was planted. It’s not like I didn’t want to sing, necessarily. I just didn’t enjoy it, and it didn’t feel good. So, Karin was very patient with me and encouraged me for years to remain open to the idea of singing more.

I remember five or six years ago, there was a little bit of a breakthrough, and I said, “Well, actually, when I sing for any extended period of time, I have some physical pain.” She said, “Well, why don’t you try singing through that and just see what’s on the other side?” I accepted the fact that maybe something painful was part of this process, and at some point, I began to let go of some of that and began to tentatively sing some harmony with Karin. It’s so amazing to sing harmony with somebody.

Karin wrote the title song, “Love & Revelation,” which has a very propulsive feel to it. Lyrically, it conveys a belief that even with all this grief, hope can still break through. Tell me about creating the music to complement those lyrics.

When Karin and [drummer] Jay Bellerose began sort of leaning into the song in the studio, we all just sort of backed away slowly because it felt like something so vivid and complete was happening, which is the voice, acoustic guitar and drums. So, I thought it was a powerful moment on the record. It’s very unadorned. It’s kind of that righteous parade and Karin’s voice, and that’s it.

I think a lot of Americans are feeling a little off balance, to put it mildly, and feeling the need to be sort of vigilant and a very necessary instinct to sort of stand against almost a daily tide of cruelty and deception that’s coming at us. We’re looking around and saying, “Well, this is not who I believe we are.” In this kind of environment, sometimes I think we forget to circle back to what it is we actually do stand for, or believe in. So, Karin sort of planted this reminder that actually it comes back around to love and revelation. I like that idea of remembering what we’re for.

That’s a pretty evolved way to look at what’s going on in America in 2019. How do you get to that point of making an album that goes beyond just running around screaming with your hair on fire about injustice?

I was not opposed to recording a protest record. Maybe on some level it is, but it’s interesting that the record we really ended up making was a record that acknowledged that we are grieving. It’s a record that acknowledges that people we love are hurting, and it’s engaging that on a heart level. It’s a little bit less about being on the street corner with a megaphone. I did write some megaphone songs, and maybe they’ll come back around. At some point, speaking softly can be just as powerful as yelling.

As always, you and Karin are credited as solo writers on most of your songs, but you seem to be on the same page in grappling with these ideas of grief and hope. Does that through-line in the theme happen organically because you’re living and working together as husband and wife?

We are sharing a lot of these experiences, and our lives feel pretty integrated. After two or three decades of trying to write a good song, eventually I begin to think, well, what I’m really trying to write is a good life. It becomes kind of inseparable. So, Karin and I, yeah, she’s a trusted editor. It’s a real gift to have somebody close by to bounce ideas off of and process ideas with. We are one of them there musical couples. It’s too late to turn back now. [Laughs]

2019 marks the 30th anniversary of your debut album. What conversations is that milestone bringing up for you and Karin?

We’re thinking a lot about sustainability. One thing we’re working on is restoring a historic barn on our old property, and we’re hoping to open our own 200-seat venue in the next couple of years. We’ve begun hosting our own music festival, and sort of inviting this community that have found our music to begin coming to us more. One nice thing about this possibility of owning our own music venue is we could offer some concerts throughout the year where we go back and take a fresh look at some of these records we made 20 years ago or whenever.

Some of the songs we still carry with us and play on a pretty regular basis, but we’re not really a nostalgia act. We’ll be very focused on Love & Revelation this year, and that’s the way people who engage our music want it. They are hungry for more.


Photo credit: Kylie Wilkerson

LISTEN: Andy Hughes & the Mighty Few, “Friday Nights”

Artist: Andy Hughes & the Mighty Few
Hometown: La Crosse, Wisconsin
Song: “Friday Nights”
Album: Songs for Sunday
Release Date: March 24, 2019
Label: Move Along Music

In Their Words: “‘Friday Nights’ is classic-sounding country. I knew I wanted to write a song like that as I was listening to a lot of George Jones and Johnny Cash at the time. It’s a personal song but also takes some liberties within the verses to make the story relatable and have some mystique to it. As a musician on the road I’ve certainly felt that line, ‘Singing my way home to you…’ and I know my wife has, too. I believe a lot of us have probably been in a bar like that, too. The Mighty Few really throw down on this track!” — Andy Hughes


Photo credit: Dylan Overhouse

Luck Reunion 2019 in Photographs

By all accounts, Luck Reunion may be the single best day of SXSW and this year they outdid themselves once again. BGS photographer Daniel Jackson was on hand through the seas of western wear and clouds of pot smoke, in the pit and behind the scenes, shooting stage photos and portraits, capturing the one-of-a-kind vibe and stellar lineup of Luck.


All photos by Daniel Jackson

WATCH: The Suitcase Junket, “Old Machine”

Artist: The Suitcase Junket
Hometown: Amherst, Massachusetts
Song: “Old Machine”
Album: Mean Dog, Trampoline
Release Date: April 5, 2019
Label: Signature Sounds Recordings

In Their Words: “A couple years ago I started working on a song and wrote the line ‘I made some moonshine.’ I hadn’t ever made moonshine so I kind of figured I didn’t have any business putting it in a song, but being the stubborn and curious sort I decided to go ahead and make the stuff instead of scrapping the song. I had been making wine and mead for a few years and had a basement full of bottles, some good, some questionable, some just bad. I made myself a stovetop still and turned a bunch of weird wine into even weirder moonshine. Then I finished the song. It came out better than the hooch.” — Matt Lorenz, The Suitcase Junket


Photo credit: David Jackson

Gig Bag: Mary Bragg

Welcome to Gig Bag, a BGS feature that peeks into the touring essentials of some of our favorite artists. This time around, Mary Bragg details the items she always has nearby when out on the road.

For me, there’s not a much better morning on tour than one that immediately starts with a good cup of coffee. My travel French press means all I have to locate is hot water; I bring my own beans, and voila, caffeine moments begin — usually paired with my journal full of scribbles, free-writing, and loads of to-do lists.


The tiny journal that fits in any bag. I carry one with me all the time — at home and on the road, in case something interesting falls out of the sky. And a Sharpie, too, both for writing and the emergency CD-signing.


My sweet travel jewelry box that makes me feel at home, carved with a little inspiration from the one and only Eleanor Roosevelt.


A whole host of my favorite print media for moments when I can sneak in a little quality journalism. (Ahem, journalism major here.)


The trustiest road snack: homemade granola. Schedules can be pretty wacky on tour, and you never know when you’re going to need a solid protein boost. Granola does the trick for me, on its own or with yogurt; I make it at home all the time and keep a stash in the car, especially for moments when I’m unexpectedly hungry and in the middle of nowhere.




Photo credit: Laura E. Partain

LISTEN: Ky Burt, “Small Town Dream”

Artist: Ky Burt
Hometown: Portland, Oregon
Song: “Small Town Dream”
Album: The Sky in Between
Release Date: April 5, 2019
Label: Woodstove Records

In Their Words: “I wrote ‘Small Town Dream’ in honor of the small towns I’ve lived in and traveled through across America. This song is my observation of the oldest towns that are still barely hanging on, where the roots run deep but the pockets lay thin. It is a testament of the enduring spirit and struggles of a country that is modernizing quicker than its antiquated towns can keep up with. And for myself and others, the enduring small town represents a slower way of life, a struggle to preserve community, and a place where old stories still live on the front porch steps.” — Ky Burt


Photo credit: Chelsea Donoho

Shook Twins Pay Tribute to Honorable Men on ‘Some Good Lives’

Shook Twins — the duo composed of sisters Laurie and Katelyn Shook — have abided by the label “quirky” ever since they released their first album, You Can Have the Rest, in 2008. Their process of integrating unexpected sounds, looping, and multiple instruments (including a golden egg typically used for percussive flares) may seem unconventional, but those touches serve as thoughtful embellishments to elevate their honeyed voices.

On their new album, Some Good Lives, the Portland, Oregon-based musicians put those voices to use in praise of good men. At a time when women’s narratives have increasingly come to the fore, Shook Twins instead focus on the positive influence certain men have had on their lives. The choice suggests there’s room to strike a balance, rather than cast one gender aside to uplift another.

Following in the footsteps of their archivist grandmother, Some Good Lives is an amalgamation five years in the making — a blend of original songs and “found sound,” of a sort. Katelyn spoke to the Bluegrass Situation about the band’s new project.

BGS: Your grandfather played piano — you even include a clip of it on the album. So it seems like you have music in your blood.

Katelyn Shook: Yeah, that was our first musical experience. We’d go over to their house and lie under his grand piano. He was totally untrained, just [flying by] the seat of his pants. That’s why I had to put those snippets on there, because it’s so Grandpa. We started singing really young and fell in love with it. We chose to be in choir but we didn’t pick up instruments until we were 17.

“Grandpa Piano” and “Moonlight Sonata” aren’t really “found sound” pieces, but they provide an interesting texture to the tracks that you wrote. What was the thinking behind including those?

I wanted to sprinkle those in because it goes with the theme of Some Good Lives. I realized that a lot of the songs were about somebody or dedicated to somebody, and all of them happened to be men, which blew my mind. I was resistant to it at first, like, “Now is not the age of man!” I just wanted to honor women. But then I had to realize and keep in check that there’s a balance, and we need to remember and honor the good men in everybody’s lives.

We’d grown up with such good men, and that’s what made my life so balanced. Most of them have passed away, except for two, so I sprinkled in “Grandpa Piano” because there was not really a song dedicated to my grandpa, but he was such a big musical influence on us.

Considering that so many people want to make room for new stories, how have you made the case that now is a time to also share stories about men, even if they’re positive?

I don’t know. I don’t know that I’ve made that case. We’ve always lived by example, and talking with all the women around me, I honestly feel like Laurie and I are very rare in our generation to have such positive male impacts in our lives. It’s funny when a theme pops up. It’s not like we went into this record like, “We want to honor the good men.” It just came out.

On “Dog Beach,” which was originally written by your grandfather Ted, you added your harmonies to an old recording. How did you retain that original, almost old-timey sound quality?

That song is a trip! It’s a long story, but I’ll try to keep it short. My grandma was an archivist, and she had this tape recorder always going. Anytime we had a campfire with our family, we made [Ted] play that song, and he was always resistant to it because he never thought it was a great song. But it was the only one he ever wrote. Ted passed away in 2015 from this massive, traumatic heart attack out of the blue. It was terrifying, horrible. After he passed away, my dad was listening through those tapes, and we heard “Dog Beach” on there. We didn’t even know it’d been recorded — Laurie and I were 5 at the time.

I heard that, and I got the idea to sing this with him one last time. We were in Portland, and we had a whole bunch of friends over— including his ex-wife and his daughter, who’s our best friend — and I had the tape with me and a shitty tape player. I put it in to play it, and we’d sing along and record it. I hit play and it ate the tape. I was like, “No!” But I knew it wasn’t the only copy — we had another one at home — so I called my boyfriend, woke him up (because he was staying with my parents), and I made him go inside with my dad and look for this extra tape. They found the other tape, they found a tape player, put it in there, and it ate the tape.

It sounds like at this point Ted didn’t want you to share it.

Exactly, but I knew he was just fucking with us because he was always resistant to playing it at campfires. So they took the tape out and they put it together — it didn’t break, it just unwound. Then my boyfriend went to sit in the car, which was the only other tape player we had at the house. If you go back and listen to his recording, you can hear his puffy coat rustling. He’s in the car just voice memoing it on his iPhone, and then he emails me the voice memo, and we play the voice memo in the living room. This all took an hour. It’s emailed through time and space. I don’t know, it’s the way it worked out. It was such a crazy night.

What was the recording process like? I know it took a few years to get to that place after your last album, but it seems like it was worth that wait.

This process was a lot different. We normally block 20 days, and we go to the studio and knock it all out. But this time we took our sweet-ass time. We did it in several chunks. We’d been playing these songs live, and we might choose not to do that with our next album, but I really like to because it lets the song marinate. We recorded three songs first and then we’d listen back to them, and since we’d been playing them live, we added more stuff to it. It was a cool way to do it but it took forever.

I think “Vessels” might be one of my favorites on the new album, both for the message and for the vocals.

That one is really special to us, too. It’s dedicated to one of the men who’s still alive, but he has a brain tumor. We wrote it right after we found out he had it.

Is he around your age?

He’s four years older, but he’s super healthy and super young. It’s super nuts. When we wrote it, we were still in that phase where he could die at any moment. It’s a really gnarly brain tumor. Nobody survives this. It’s a total miracle that he’s come this far — it’s been like five years now. But we were in this state of shock and terror, we had our moments of coming to grips with it. That song was us accepting that we’re just vessels, and we have to say goodbye sometimes, and we have to be thankful that we got you at all. It’s narrow, singing to him, but it’s a broad statement to everybody about accepting your death, your friend’s death, and finding a way to be ok with it.

Vocally, we really like what Laurie did. That’s another song that Gregory Alan Isakov helped out on. She took four songs to him. She repeats lines, talking; I really like that effect because it made it this ghostly statement. Isakov helped make it sound more vibey; we call it adding “God noise,” where he adds all this weird ass-shit, and he tweaks it in Pro Tools, but the stuff he comes up with, he’s a total genius. His essence, his God noise, made that song extra special for sure.

Familial harmonies have their own kind of magic, but as twins you have similar vocal cords, which seems like it could pose a challenge at times. What kind of thought process have you put into your arrangements?

We use that vocal identicalness to our advantage. We’ve started to experiment with more unison singing. It’s trippy because people try to achieve that in the studio, where they double themselves, and you can’t really tell there’s two tracks, but there’s an essence. That’s what it sounds like. Harmony-wise, it’s mostly Laurie; it just comes out of her. When we analyze it, sometimes we’ll totally overlap and all of a sudden one voice will naturally go lower and one will go higher. We don’t do the typical harmony. We intertwine. It’s very trippy.

As twins, how have you managed to forge a sense of individuality in the duo?

It sounds weird, but it’s never been an issue to express ourselves individually. We’ve always been Shook Twins. We actually strive to be more of a duo. Sometimes we play solo and it doesn’t feel right; we don’t enjoy it as much. I think we’re definitely strongest together. We’ve never had a competition issue. We always say, “We’re the twin-iest twins we know.” Most times we meet other twins and they all have their own lives. It’s kind of weird to us. We’ve always had the exact mindset about everything. It’s crazy.

BGS 5+5: Scott Mulvahill

Artist: Scott Mulvahill
Hometown: Friendswood, Texas (near Houston)
Latest album: Himalayas
Personal nicknames (or rejected band names): I played one show as “Scott Hill” towards the end of college. I was self-conscious about my rather different last name, but after that I just decided to embrace it. If Jake Gyllenhaal can do it…

What’s your favorite memory from being on stage?

A few years ago, I played a show in Nashville where I gathered a bunch of friends to cover all of Paul Simon’s Graceland album, which is one of my desert island records. It was as fun as it sounds!! But we had a moment of true magic when the power went out in the building. Everyone in the room gathered in and gave us light from their cell phones, and we sang the song “Homeless” acoustically — just my upright and about 10 singers, no PA [system]. It was so powerful, and a moment of chaos was turned into something beautiful. We actually captured it all on video and it’s on YouTube. After we finished the song, the power miraculously came back on and we finished the show. That was such a great moment that I recorded that arrangement of that song and included it on my album.

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

I just finished a new one that I re-wrote about five times. Eventually I had verses in a decent form, and I ended up writing the chorus with my brilliant friend Ben Shive. At that point it was good, but still not quite there, so I took it into a co-write with the great Beth Nielsen Chapman, and we edited it line by line and she made it so much stronger. So that was a long process, but worth it because I think the end result is pretty special. I’m excited to record it.

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

I don’t believe in pre-show rituals, besides a very simple warm-up of singing or playing just about anything. I’ll sing a few notes, noodle on bass, mostly just relax. If I had some elaborate ritual that I depended on, I think that would be a mental crutch more than a help. I’ll hear singers talk about certain warm-up routines, or how dairy will throw you off, how you must drink honey, and stuff like that. I want to get my technique and experience to a level where I’m not worried about things like milk ruining my show. Was it really the milk?

If you had to write a mission statement for your career, what would it be?

To always get down to the truth, to find the edge of my abilities, and try to spend as much time there as possible. A song can’t be too vulnerable or too personal in my opinion. The more personal and vulnerable, the more distinct and powerful it’s likely to be. People are looking to artists to be brave in their music, to speak truths from their own angle, and that’s my goal.

How often do you hide behind a character in a song or use “you” when it’s actually “me”?

At times I’ve done this without knowing it; I’ve written songs that feel powerful, and only half-way through writing it do I realize that it’s about me and my real-life events. I almost never purposefully write characters, and I wish I could… it’s a different approach that I just don’t know how to do convincingly yet. So my songs to date are almost all autobiographical. And that doesn’t prevent them from being relatable for people. For almost every song I sing, I have a person in mind that I conjure while I sing the song, and that helps me re-enter the emotional space of when the song was written. For songs that are about real events, I want them to feel as real as possible for the audience.


Photo credit: David Dobson