Sam Lewis, A Blue Jeans Type of Person

Would you jump at the opportunity to hang out with Americana singer/songwriter Sam Lewis at a bowling alley while he waxes poetic about style? We would — and we did. He may describe his simple, blue jean style as “mediocre,” but his eye for detail, his love of functionality, and the sentimental value of pieces that some would consider everyday or commonplace set his looks apart. 

I’m clueless when it comes to style and fashion. I’m rarely comfortable wearing the clothes that make up my wardrobe and that’s probably why I despise shopping and will happily wear any article of clothing someone might give me before they donate it to a charity shop or, frighteningly enough, throw it away. It truly sickens me that some people throw away clothes… they’re probably the same people that leave the faucet running full blast while they are brushing their teeth.

I got into work boots recently. I’ve been wearing a pair of work boots since November. I don’t remember where they came from, or why I started wearing them, but I love them. It’s been a “get shit done” few months for me and I’m almost compelled to credit my footwear for helping me complete so many tasks. I’m a blue jean type of person — always have been and always will be. I love t-shirts with silly sayings and socks that compliment them. Long johns — thermal underwear, or whatever you call them — are in daily rotation from October through March. I’m not kidding. Ask anyone that knows me well enough and they’ll either agree or ask you to leave them alone. I hate being cold; it hurts!

Accessories can be very telling and extremely personal items; they typically find you and they certainly have stories to tell. The few I own are beyond being called “accessories.” I have a long, beaded necklace with a ceramic dove at the end that’s been with me since 2012. I purchased it from a registered nurse at a fire department fundraiser in Southwestern Virginia. She had a table filled with jewelry she made in her spare time. She told me the beads on the necklace I was holding were given to her by one of her favorite patients, who passed the year prior. They are similar to rosary beads and in place of the crucifix that you usually find sits a small dove that the nurse told me signifies peace.

I also have a leather belt that I wear almost daily that I purchased from a charity shop in 2003. It was already worn in when I found it and you can imagine the shape that it’s in currently. A few years ago a friend of mine gifted me an elaborate silver and turquoise belt buckle that now proudly holds the belt together. There’s a ring I wear most days that I found in New Orleans (my favorite city) that has a feather design that unintentionally matches the feathers on the belt buckle. These three items have been with me all over the world yet their stories were shared with very few people. I truly believe most things in life find you and not the other way around. Almost everything I truly cherish was either gifted to me or found me at the right place and right time.

Donelson Bowl is one of my favorite spots in Nashville. If they had better coffee and rented cots for overnight slumbers I would probably be paying rent there right now. Other than that, they have everything else you could want or need. Lots of room too; I like space. Space is so underrated. Space is my favorite instrument in music, but we are not talking about music right now so I’ll spare you anymore insight into that topic.


Photos by Kelly Amber Garcia

WATCH: Worry Dolls, “Tidal Wave”

Artist: Worry Dolls
Hometown: London, England
Song: “Tidal Wave”
Album: Go Get Gone (Deluxe Edition)
Release Date: July 13, 2018
Label: Bread & Butter Music / SFE

In Their Words: ​”​The first verse of the song was a voice memo on ​my phone for nearly a year that ​I kept coming back to but couldn’t really figure out what it was about. I knew tidal wave was a metaphor for when it feels like life is coming at you at full force and there’s nothing you can do to stop it. But it wasn’t until I lost an extremely close family member last summer, very tragically and suddenly, that I came back to the song and realised it was about grief. When you’re grieving they say it comes in waves, but for me it felt like a tidal wave.

Around the same time, I had just got my first Gibson and it was this gorgeous Sheryl Crow edition Southern Jumbo with this beautiful rich, warm bass. Zoe was using a vintage Earl Scruggs banjo and when we got the instruments home, this song just poured out. It was like the stars had finally aligned. Quite soon after finishing it, we produced it ourselves and recorded it live in a converted cowshed just outside of London!​” ​– ​Rosie Jones, Worry Dolls


Photo credit: Finlay O’Hara

At Your Service: A Conversation With Nicki Bluhm

Nicki Bluhm is venturing out on her own with her newly-released solo album, To Rise You Gotta Fall. The aptly titled album chronicles her life since her split from her husband and musical collaborator, Tim Bluhm, and subsequent departure from the Gramblers two years ago. Seeking a change of scenery and a new challenge, the lifelong California resident acted on impulse and made a cross-country move to Nashville in 2017.

To Rise You Gotta Fall, produced by Matt Ross-Spang (Jason Isbell, Margo Price), features a collaboration with Ryan Adams (“Battlechain Rose”), as well as a Dan Penn cover (“I Hate You”). It was recorded in the legendary Sam Phillips Recording studio in Memphis and captures the raw emotion she poured into her writing over the two-year period. Each song is a different phase in a process of grieving and letting go — a testament that sometimes something beautiful comes out of our darkest times.

When you’re paying homage to that Memphis sound, you get something that’s tinged with nostalgia, but also totally its own and new. Did recording at Sam Phillips Recording play into that sound?

Yeah, I think so, for sure. Matt Ross-Spang produced the record and he’s a Memphian. He basically started working at Sun Records when he was a teenager. His parents got him a session for his birthday to record there. He quickly realized that he wanted to be on the other side of the experience, in the control room, and he started working at Sun as a young teenager.

Then when they started to understand his commitment and passion, and love of that era, and all of the gear that they were using at that time, the people at Sun were like, “Well, we’ve got Sam Phillips Recording Service.” which Sam built in 1958. It has really been left untouched. I mean, it looks the same. All of the decor is the same, everything short of the cigarette butts in Sam Phillips’ office. Sam’s office is exactly the same. So Matt has really been like a steward of reviving Sam Phillips.

How did that factor into you working together?

His love of that era of music is very pure and real. We have so much overlap of the things that we love in music. From my first meeting with him, I knew that we were going to agree on a lot sonically, and also pull inspiration from similar places. One of the records that he sent me to listen to was a Bobby Charles record, which, unbeknownst to him, is one of my favorite records. It’s just like, “Okay, we have a lot of commonality.”

Your record was all done analog, too, right?

Yep. We did it all to tape. We recorded it live and we tracked, I think, everything in five days. At the time, I didn’t really think – I thought that the band would get the songs and I would sing scratch. But I realized I had never met the band before. I entrusted Matt to choose the players and he did a spectacular job. I was beyond happy with the guys who played on the record but I hadn’t met a single one of them. They really hadn’t heard any of the demos either. Maybe Matt had shared the demos with them but it was really day-of stuff.

I realized really quickly that I was going to have to sing for real, because I needed to show them where I wanted the energy and where I wanted the arc of the song. It was a really cool experience. I had a straight sight line to all of them. Particularly Ken Coomer on drums. There was a realness to it. That was really inspiring. It made me fall back into that time where I knew I wasn’t going to, nor did I want to, overanalyze or bring out the microscope. I just wanted to capture the moment, and not get in my head about all the small details and nitpick stuff. So it was a great space, and a great group of people to make that happen.

Obviously, you’re a songwriter, so all songs are personal in some sense, but these are especially personal. Is there ever a fear when you’re writing that something is too personal? Or is it more of a relief that those thoughts and feelings are going to be out there for people to relate to?

Totally. It’s super vulnerable. I felt like I didn’t really have a choice. I tried not to be cruel, but I had to speak my truth, and that was important to me. I didn’t have the opportunity to have a lot of closure or conversations towards the end of this relationship that ended. So this was kind of my way of getting through that, and coming to terms with it, and getting those ruminating thoughts out of my mind, because I knew the toxicity of keeping them in. You have to allow those feelings to happen, you know?

Definitely.

They’re going to happen. And I felt like this was a healthy way for me to move through it. Now, singing them on the stage in front of a bunch of people — I’ve had to do that for the last six months by myself, because I’ve been on these solo tours, and I have solo tours opening for Lukas Nelson, and Josh Ritter, and just recently, the Wood Brothers. I’ve definitely felt what that was going to feel like.

Is it more difficult to do it in a live setting?

It was super vulnerable but at this point it’s almost like a service. It sounds weird but it’s almost like a service I’m providing because we all go through this stuff. For me, music has gotten me through so many hard times. It is comforting to know you’re not the only person that’s suffering and struggling.

While it’s really vulnerable and scary to get up and voice that in front of strangers, it’s really inspiring and comforting when, after the show, I go to the merch table, like I do every night, and people come up with tears in their eyes because they’re going through something similar. Or something has helped them.

For sure. One of the songs on the album that got my attention, and I think it’s because there’s such a cool juxtaposition, was “I Hate You.” It’s not what you expect it to be.

It’s a fantastic song. I didn’t write that. I wish I did. But it’s so good.

Your vocal on it is fantastic because it’s just so raw. But then, you’ve got that Hammond organ in the background, and it reminds me of walking into a Southern Baptist church or something. There’s such a cool contrast there, and that it could be such a melancholy kind of song, but it’s got this odd optimism behind it, too.

It’s interesting because there were definitely many conversations over that song between the creative and the business roles within my camp. The business side was like, “Oh, this is really harsh. This is really harsh language.” And from the creative side, we were like, “You’ve got to listen closer.”

It sounds at first listen like it’s scathing, and by the title, you might think that. But it’s not. It was written by a guy named Dan Penn. When I got together with Matt, he suggested we put a cover on the record. I was like, “Well, if we’re going to do that, I want to pay homage to Memphis. I want to do something that is of that area.” Matt is obsessed with Dan Penn. I heard that song, and I was like, “Wow. That’s it.” So we recorded it, and a month later, I was at my friend AJ Croce’s album release show, which turns out Dan Penn produced, and Dan Penn was there.

So I was introduced to Dan Penn and his wife, and my friend was like, “Dan, I want you to meet Nicki. She just put your song, ‘I Hate You,’ on her record.” His wife’s face just lit up and she was like, “I love that song so much.” She goes, “It sounds mean but he said, ‘I’m trying to hate you.’ And I should know, because that song’s about me.”

It was just so cute, and such an amazing moment to have recorded that song — and to meet the very person who it was written about, and written by. It was this really amazing, full-circle Tennessee moment for me. It’s true. Emotions aren’t always straightforward. You can love someone and hate them at the same time, and that’s confusing. Human emotions are very complex. I think that song does a great job of displaying that in a really simple way. But you have to be open to hearing that juxtaposition.

The first thing that struck me listening to the title track was that it’s probably not one of the first ones you wrote. Was that one that came toward the end?

It did. I had moved out. I had moved into what I call my healing nest, which was this amazing studio in Sausalito, California, owned by my dear friend. I don’t know if you’ve ever been to Sausalito but it’s beautiful and it’s on the water. I had this gorgeous view from where I lived, and it was just me and my cat. I was really feeling the support of my girlfriends and my family.

I had come out of such a dark place. Again, not that I didn’t return back to that dark place after I wrote that song, but it was definitely a respite in time, or a part of that process where I saw some blue sky, which was a huge relief. When you’re deep in it, any relief from that darkness is so welcomed, and for me, that song was a gift because it just made me feel better. I remember the day I wrote it. I was literally smoking a joint on my deck with my cat, and I got into that groove, and it just happened. It was one of those songs that happened quickly, and it just made me feel good.

This is a record that a lot of people could pull off the shelf and use it to make themselves feel better about anything they’re going through. What are some albums that you pull out when you’re going through a hard time?

Oh, well always Joni Mitchell’s Court and Spark, because I love her. Talk about articulating feelings and situations and scenes. She is a master of that. And then, I will just go and binge on J.J. Cale. I’ll listen to J.J. Cale for like a month straight. I love Stan Getz. I love a lot of jazz. I don’t know if it makes me feel close to my dad. But like, you know, a glass of white wine and some Coltrane or Getz, or something like that, always makes me feel relaxed and good. I mean, the list just goes on and on.


Photo credit: Noah Adams

LISTEN: I See Hawks in L.A., ‘My Parka Saved Me’

Artist: I See Hawks in L.A.
Hometown: Los Angeles, California
Song: “My Parka Saved Me”
Album: Live and Never Learn
Release Date: June 29, 2018

In Their Words: “A doo-wop ballad literally based upon our drummer Victoria’s true story about a car crash in the dead of Chicago winter on the banks of Lake Michigan; with narrative and a happy ending. One day in rehearsal, Rob just started playing along and singing her narration as she told the story. Then Paul and Paul chimed in with back up vocals and it felt like we had something unique right there. It’s pretty much just as we created it in that moment in the rehearsal studio.” —Paul Lacques, I See Hawks in L.A.


Photo credit: Melissa Shane

Closer to Self-Acceptance: A Conversation with River Whyless

Bands grow. Styles evolve. Lineups shift. Genre identifiers morph to accept those changes while the music industry holds certain expectations for reinventions and reimaginations. It’s refreshing, then, when you happen across a band that isn’t bogged down by those precedents, choosing to just follow their songs and their true selves wherever they may lead.

The folk-pop outfit River Whyless finds themselves on this trajectory with their third album, Kindness, A Rebel. The product is not gratuitous, heavy-handed, or obvious, and it never stumbles or attempts to assert that “the old River Whyless is dead,” because true reinvention is never about demolition and rebuilding. It’s about finding the skeletal structure that was already there and allowing it to shine on its own, set apart. Drummer Alex Walters jumped on the phone to unpack the integral aspects of self-acceptance and self-celebration that blossomed on this beautiful testament to allowing oneself to just be.

This record seems to be as much about personal growth for each of you individually as it is about changes for the band as a whole. Why do you think those two things coincided here?

Alex McWalters: I think those things are always connected in some way. Whenever you make a piece of art, your life is always factored into that, there’s always growth. [It’s partly] because we’re now in our early 30s and feeling really lucky that we’re still able to make music and be a band. With that, there are a lot of adjustments you have to make as you head into the next phase of life. Ryan [O’Keefe] just got married, my girlfriend and I just bought some property and we’re working on building a house, and Halli [Anderson] moved to Oregon with her sweetheart. A lot of big life things are happening.

I guess this is a record about grappling with how to be a band in a different phase of your life. It’s honestly a little more challenging when you have more responsibilities outside of a band. Whereas, when we were in our 20s, it was like we were homeless. We lived on the road. Our whole lives were the band. It’s a much different way of operating professionally and creatively than it was 10 years ago. It’s exciting, but also challenging to continue doing it in this way.

How do you all feel that growth comes through the music, overtly? I hear it in “The Feeling of Freedom” and I hear it in “Another Shitty Party” — which I feel echoes my own personal growth through young adulthood — but how do you feel that perspective comes through?

I think “Another Shitty Party” is a great example. I hold this new record up against the one we did before, two years ago, in terms of the way it feels — I sort of have an inside view as to how it was made, so it’s a little hard to convey to someone who wasn’t there. It feels like we sort of embraced whatever came out of us this time and didn’t try quite so hard to be a certain way or accomplish a certain thing with the music. There were a lot more growing pains in the last record, as far as figuring out how to make three or four songwriters coherent.

This time we just went with it. We just let the songs be the songs. With that, the idea of “Another Shitty Party” is sort of connected to a bigger idea of coming a little bit closer to self-acceptance and trying to be honest with who you are in the world. The idea of going to a party and walking away from that feeling like, “There’s no reason I had to be there!” is a metaphor for the larger feeling of being in a band and trying to be cool. Let’s just stop trying to be cool and just be us.

Something that we aren’t necessarily taught as kids or teenagers is that sort of self-acceptance, that acknowledgement, is such an integral part of what we refer to as “maturity.” It’s getting to a point of being able to accept yourself as whomever you are, having been morphed by all of the factors of our lives. What brought that to the surface for you?

I’m not sure if it was conscious. Maybe it was also having reached some level of, I guess, gratification in terms like, “Oh, the last tour we did went really well.” I think part of maturity is you have to learn what works and what doesn’t. Some people aren’t as lucky to reach that point of self-acceptance to where you can say, “No, I don’t want to partake in this.” Or, “I don’t agree with that and I’m not going to do it.” It can sometimes require a lot of work to get to the point where you’re able to be mature. Some of that was just us being a little more confident than we were before.

Also, it’s just hard to avoid the elephant in the room as far as the current political situation and feeling like we didn’t say or do enough. Not that we could have done anything [specific], or that we even knew what to do, or maybe we shouldn’t have done anything, but we had that sense of, “Oh man, what just happened and how do we go forward?”

Taking responsibility of that and taking it onto ourselves is also a very mature idea.

Precisely.

And kindness really is a rebellious act right now. I think that was one of my biggest takeaways from the album. Like, “Oh shit, yeah, being just a kind human being at this point in this weird political, divisive period, is rebellious.”

Absolutely. You hit that right on the head.

I hear you reckoning with that on “Born in the Right Country.” This is something that I think about a lot right now, about how we can address these sort of personal perspectives we have while we also acknowledge our own privilege and our own complicity, too. How did you reconcile that conflict with yourselves and through that song?

The song was written by Ryan and I think it’s interesting, because, like I said, we all had a very intense reaction to the election. There’s a lot to have to work through once you realize that Donald Trump is your president. We are four white people in a band and our life has been pretty peachy and, for the most part, is continuing to be pretty peachy, so anything we say about Donald Trump or the people who voted for Donald Trump has to be self-aware. You have to go through a process of recognizing where you’re coming from when you speak and how you sound and what your actions actually say without you realizing you’re saying it.

There was a point at which that song was introduced to the band and we all wondered if we even wanted to go there. What does this mean? How will it be interpreted? What good does it really do? What is this song really going to accomplish besides sounding like four white people complaining about Donald Trump? And maybe it still does, but I think an important part of it was trying to get into that three-minute song a part about us having a certain responsibility that we have to figure out how to own, as far as being who we are and what we could or could not have done more of.

Personally, I thought 100 percent that he was going to lose, so I was very complacent and complicit in terms of the whole thing. That alone says to me that I was kind of blind. There was a whole lot I wasn’t seeing or that I was refusing to see. And what does that say about my situation and how removed I am from the pain that people are feeling?

Talking about growth and maturity as a band, there’s an expected trajectory in these roots genres for bands to go from string band into more pop-influenced sounds. You guys seem to be on that track. But your music seems to be on this trajectory because it feels like this music is song-driven first. Why do you think that is?

I don’t know if I have a very concrete answer, but I think some of it has to do with the organic evolution. On our first record, we had a different bass player, so we introduced a new player to the band and that inevitably has an effect on how it sounds. With that, there’s also a shift in the power dynamic of the band, for lack of a better way of putting it, where one lead songwriter’s vision isn’t steering the ship anymore — at least not totally. That has a lot to do with how the evolution has happened.

Again, also just letting go. Just letting what comes out come out and not trying to steer it any direction, genre-wise or sound-wise. We obviously have influences and things we’re into and that’s what influences the sound of the moment we’re in, but outside of that I think we just kind of let go of what we want to be and just let it be what it is. It’s so much easier said than done.

Another outgrowth of self-acceptance.

I would say so. I never really thought of it like that, but now that you say it…


Photo credit: Shervin Lainez

Ben Glover: The Restless Spirit Finds His Shore

With one foot in his native Ireland and another in his adopted Nashville, Ben Glover has exhibited a restless spirit in the ten years since he released his debut album. But with his new album Shorebound, the singer-songwriter has reached a new kind of land. “I feel I know myself better and know my place better within the world,” he says over the phone from Nashville.

Glover’s newfound stability arose from major life events like getting married and turning the big 4-0, but also from investing in the kinds of creative relationships that can themselves become homes—at least for the wandering troubadours of the world. He largely co-wrote Shorebound with songwriters on both sides of the Atlantic, fusing together the geography that formed him with the creative path that has taken him far afield. With contributions from Gretchen Peters (who co-wrote the Americana Music Association UK’s 2017 International Song of the Year “Blackbirds” with Glover), Irish artists Malojian and Matt McGinn, and many others, Glover has found a port in the storm.

If we look at Shorebound as a truth you’re heading towards, what would you say that is?

It’s the inner sense of knowing that I’m on a path, that I’m heading towards a direction. There’s nothing more frightening in life than when you feel completely untethered and rudderless; that’s when the fear comes in, that’s when the doubt comes in. But at least if you feel you’re on a path or on a direction to something, it allows you to trust the process, and that’s all we can do is trust.

Honestly, I’m not even sure what the shore actually is. I know what it feels like. It’s the feeling of belonging ultimately to myself, and connection—connecting to myself and to the people around me. Knowing that we’re heading somewhere and trusting that we’re getting somewhere.

So many of these songs involve other voices, but on the title track—a solo effort—the piano offers this compelling call and response in absence of someone else joining you on the song. How did you see it functioning?

You’re right that it is a kind of call and response.

It works in the way that voices do in other songs—as a dialogue.

I guess it wasn’t planned.

One of those happy accidents?

You know! I played the song for the boys in the band, and they just fell into that part right away. It’s interesting that you say that because I like the idea that there’s a call and response, because it’s the shore calling. When I wrote that song, it felt very important to me personally because it’s the first time I’ve ever written a song that felt so open and vulnerable.

Basically it’s about my wife. It’s a strange song because if all the songs were people in a room, that probably wouldn’t be the most brass person. It’d probably be standing over in the corner. But of course the album takes its title from that. A lot of people may pass it by, but I like the subtlety of it and there’s a sweetness to it.

It’s a beautiful song. There’s a soft rippling effect that you would get as you approach the shore and you hear the water lapping closer to the land.

That’s really beautiful that you say that. I hadn’t even picked that up in the way that you did, but I’m actually going to tell people that was intended.

Go for it! Getting back to this idea of shores and truths, I love “Northern Stars” for a similar reason. Your imagery about being blinded and losing your way feels so pertinent in this day and age. What do “northern stars” symbolize for you?

The stars are what we map our way with. Well, I guess the ancients did–we’re not so good at doing now.

But it’s nice to think back to that kind of primal connection to the earth, because there’s something inherent there.

I think instinct is vitally important and that all comes from an internal force. Wife, location, all those things are my northern star—they’re all part of it. As well as my instinct. The two guys I wrote it with, Matt McGuinn and Malojian, they’re both from Northern Ireland; I wrote the first verse and I wrote the chorus and I sent it to them.

Even mentioning the word “northern” was deliberate on my part because I wanted to convey the sense of Northern Ireland. Ultimately the message of that song is that sometimes it is so easy to lose your way, and sometimes all we want to do is lay our head down and be at ease in a moment of peace. Ultimately feeling that ease with yourself and with somebody else.

Speaking of ease, restlessness and searching and themes of movement have been pretty predominant in your catalogue. Shorebound, however, radiates a greater sense of stability. How did you cultivate that internally? Or was the process more exterior at first?  

Well, it’s ongoing. That’s for sure. Certainly, when I started writing the record—probably two years ago—my thought was not, “I’m at ease now, let me write a record.” It often happens that you write a bunch of songs, and the theme only becomes apparent after you write those songs. As I say, I moved to Nashville 10 years ago, and I still have one foot either side of the Atlantic.

It can be hard in terms of an identity at times.

It can but I think when you’re in that position you have to dig deep to find your identity. It can be very unsettling. It makes you feel ill at ease sometimes because you love two places. Sometimes you feel your heart can’t cope with being connected to two places. I think overall it’s a benefit because you have to really explore that unease and explore what causes it, and how you deal with it. When I look back at my last record, The Emigrant, I was in the process of getting my immigration stuff sorted; my move between countries was very much at the forefront. I think I have two homes, but it’s the people that ultimately make that. My family in Ireland, that’s who I miss most when I’m away. When I’m away from America, it’s my wife and my friends I miss most. It’s the people at the end of the day.

Are you always in a state of missing somebody?

You know, it’s kind of tragic, but I guess I’m always missing somebody. I don’t mean this to sound depressing or sad at all, but my life the past ten years is a series of farewells and hellos. Every time you leave somewhere there’s a little bit of grief. Every time you land somewhere, there’s that joy that comes with it.

Also the older it gets, the harder it gets. You would think the more you say goodbye to people and leave home or whatever that it gets easier, but my experience is that it actually gets harder. There’s that inner thing where the older you get and the older your parents get, you’re more aware of the fragility of life. When you’re younger, you don’t think about that. You just do it. I guess there’s always that lament inside of me, for a place, for people, but I don’t see that as a negative thing.

I was struck by the imagery you used to describe co-writing—it’s a process of excavation so better to have more hands digging than fewer. Are those discoveries more poignant when they take place with another person rather than by yourself?

I think the shared experience is very important because if you find a song or a thought with somebody, you know at least it connects with one other person. It validates that thought a little more. If you’re writing on your own, you can be in a cocoon, you don’t really know the parameter of the thought, if that makes sense.

There’s a real power in sharing vulnerability with another writer. It’s not necessarily easier to be vulnerable with someone else in a creative aspect, but there’s something pretty deep with that because you’re exposing yourself with another human being, another spirit. When it happens on a deep level, it’s incredibly empowering, and that’s the thing that makes me go back and do it more. Ultimately, what I’m trying to do here is express the personal in the hope that it connects with the universal.

It does, and not to get too starry-eyed about it, but for those of us who lack one singular geographic home, our connections with people can become a new kind of home.

Absolutely. It’s difficult because once you start talking like that, you run the risk of sounding like magical surrealism, but it’s true though. You end up creating this concrete unit you live in as your creative home and that knows no borders. That’s what I love about how Shorebound turned out—the collaborations were from both sides of the Atlantic. When I write a song with somebody and there’s a real connection, I feel really at home, really at ease, really at peace. Also very, very excited. That’s ultimately what it’s all about. We’re all trying to connect—with ourselves, with other people, with the world around us.


Photo credit: Jim Demain

Baylen’s Brit Pick: Bennett Wilson Poole

Artist: Bennett Wilson Poole
Hometown: Rural Oxfordshire. Well, that’s where the group was dreamed up but two-thirds are from South London and one-third from Oxford proper.
Latest Album: Bennett Wilson Poole

Sounds Like: Hard to pin down but at a push I’d say Crosby, Stills, Nash & Young but there’s something of the Tom Petty about these guys and a little Schoolhouse Rock. Maybe a bit of Belle and Sebastian…. As you can tell they are pretty eclectic.

Why You Should Listen: Here’s the thing, I’m writing this in a pub. Try not to judge me, I’ve just moved and my broadband hasn’t been installed yet. However, even if I had Wi-Fi in the studio, I might be writing this in a pub anyway because: A) We do a lot of important things in pubs in the UK; and B) I can think of no finer three fellas to spend the afternoon in the pub with.

Individually each of these guys are musical heavyweights in the UK. Danny Wilson is the mighty leader of Danny and The Champions of The World and formerly Grand Drive, who has been moving and grooving since before Americana was even a word in the UK. Robin Bennett is one half of the swoony brother group Dreaming Spires and Saint Etienne. Tony Poole is from Starry Eyed and Laughing (a.k.a. the English Byrds), all-around wizard of a producer, and master on the electric 12-string Rickenbacker.

Listen to any of these guys individually and you’re already having a great day, all together and you’re looking at a great week if not month. The three work wonderfully together, leaving egos at the door, each taking turns on lead vocals but joining in on perfect harmonies when the song calls for it.

Sonically the album is varied, rich and layered with echoes and mirrored sounds. Lyrically it’s just as deep with songs inspired by the murder of UK politician Jo Cox (“Hate Won’t Win”) and harrowing photos of refugee boats in the Mediterranean (“Lifeboat”). I hope I’m not damning them with faint praise when I say this is a well-rounded album in every sense of the word. An album for our times. Some say trio, I say UK Americana supergroup


As a radio and TV host, Baylen Leonard has presented country and Americana shows, specials, and commentary for BBC Radio 2, Chris Country Radio, BBC Radio London, BBC Radio 2 Country, BBC Radio 4, BBC Scotland, Monocle 24, and British Airways, as well as promoting artists through his work with the Americana Music Association UK, the Nashville Meets London Festival, and the Long Road (the UK’s newest outdoor country, Americana, and roots festival). Follow him on Twitter: @HeyBaylen

Photo credit: John Morgan

Gig Bag: Joshua Hedley

Welcome to Gig Bag, a BGS feature that peeks into the touring essentials of some of our favorite artists. With a guest appearance from his cat, Possum, Joshua Hedley details the items he always has nearby when out on the road.

Truck stop pillow: It’s cheap, it doesn’t need a pillow case, and it’s more comfortable than a van seat headrest.

Adidas Tracksuit: It takes up less room than a blanket because you’re wearing it.

Adidas Adilette Cloudfoam Plus slides: Just get a pair. You’ll see. P.S. definitely wear with socks.

Fanny Pack: It doesn’t matter what brand, I just like Adidas. Anyway you can keep all your stuff in it and it takes up less room than a backpack. It gets cramped easily in the van so minimizing clutter is key.

Bose QuietComfort 35 II headphones: I fly to Australia twice a year. That’s a long ass flight and the batteries in these things last FOREVER. They’re not cheap but they’re worth every penny.

My own hat: Idk, it’s a free hat.


Photo of Joshua Hedley: Jamie Goodsell

STREAM: Oliver the Crow’s Self-Titled Album

Artist: Oliver the Crow
Hometown: Nashville, TN
Album: Oliver the Crow
Release date: June 22, 2018

In Their Words: “This first album feels like a meeting of the future and the past for us. It is informed by the styles of music that make up both our personal pasts — a rogue classical cellist and a fiddle-jazz gun for hire — as well as the styles of music we have always so adored. Although it feels nostalgic, it also feels new. It has a modern sound of its own and we find it hard to describe its genre. Whatever it ends up being defined as, we are certainly proud of it. Oliver the Crow grew out of a love of us playing together and an urge to get outside of our comfort zone — this record is the first real product of that. When we listen to it, we smile. We hope others do, too.” -Kaitlyn Raitz


Photo credit: Taylor Noel Photography

LISTEN: Rodney Crowell, “Lovin’ All Night”

Artist: Rodney Crowell
Hometown: Nashville, TN
Song: “Lovin’ All Night”
Album: Acoustic Classics
Release Date: July 13, 2018

In His Words: “From time to time I am what you’d call lighthearted. The title of the song is, of course, hyperbole. However, I met my wife on the video shoot for the song back in ’92, and the sparks have been flying ever since.” – Rodney Crowell


Photo credit: Austin Lord