BGS Class of 2024: Our Year-End Favorites

Each year, when we begin the process of curating our year-end round-ups with our BGS and Good Country contributors, our prompt is never about superlatives or true “best of year” selections. We don’t strive to craft these lists based on “shoulds” – what record should be considered the best of the year? What should a list of the best bluegrass, old-time, Americana, and folk music include?

We perhaps couldn’t be less interested in such a list. Are they entertaining to read? Oh, yes. There’s almost no better year-end pastime than quickly scrolling through a “best of” list to find if you agree or disagree, or if your favorite album is included, or if your obvious choice is another’s glaring omission. But the beauty of music – especially these more traditional and folkway-adjacent forms – isn’t objectivity; it’s the intricately personal, particular, and subjective that’s hardest to capture.

Still, each year, as fall transitions to winter, we try our best to capture just that. In 2024, we tasked our BGS contributors with collecting their most favorite, most impactful, most resonant, and most persistent albums, songs, and performances. A quick Google search will reveal dozens of collections of the “most important” music of the year, but rather than wading into that very crowded space we hope our BGS Class of 2024 reflects the most ethereal, intangible, and fantastic music we encountered this year.

As such, our Class of 2024 has ended up with a lovely variety of albums and songs spanning the entire, expansive American roots music scene. You’ll hear picks like troubadours Willi Carlisle and Amythyst Kiah, there are straight-ahead grassers like Bronwyn Keith-Hynes, AJ Lee & Blue Summit, and Brenna MacMillan, and we’ve got buzzworthy acts like MJ Lenderman and Katie Gavin represented here, too. It’s not all bluegrass – it’s not any one thing, really! – but we hope you’ll find plenty to love and, hopefully, much exemplary roots music you might not have found anywhere else.

Scroll to find a playlist version of our BGS Class of 2024 below, plus stay tuned for more year-end collections coming your way, including our favorite musical moments, 2024 Good Country, our music book picks for the year, and more. – Justin Hiltner, editor, BGS and Good Country 

Willi Carlisle, Critterland

I didn’t catch on to Willi Carlisle until this year, which might be because he’s only just beginning to garner more broad commercial success – or, if I’m being honest, it could be because I mistakenly assumed he was just another white guy with an acoustic guitar and a microphone. But I was wrong.

Carlisle is a rare storyteller, a poet, an openly queer man from the South, and one of the most meticulous folk songwriters releasing music right now. This year, he dropped his third full-length album, Critterland, underlining his status as all of the above and proving he can masterfully weave old-time, country, folk, and honky-tonk influences into a cohesive style all his own. Whether he’s singing about spiritual existentialism, rural queer experiences, or his many meandering journeys across the U.S., Carlisle’s lyricism is captivating, rich, and alive. If you haven’t already listened to Critterland, don’t let the year roll over without doing it. – Dana Yewbank

Jake Xerxes Fussell, When I Am Called

Jake Xerxes Fussell’s version of the work song “Gone to Hilo” on his 2024 album, When I Am Called, is gorgeous. It reveals part of how he revitalizes and contextualizes new folk songs. Fussell is a man of great learning, but he wears it loosely and with pleasure. “Hilo,” the song, has a number of versions – some are about Hawaii and some are about Peru (a town called Ihru). Some are about a sailor named Tommy, others are about someone named Johnny. Usually it’s Johnny in Hawaii and Tommy in Peru; Elijah Wald’s 2024 book about Muddy Waters suggests that it might not be Hilo or Ihru, but “the Hollow,” and could originate from the vernacular of enslaved people.

Fussell, playing live in Toronto, didn’t interpolate the Hollow, but in a perfect three minutes, traded lines and verses, sometimes about one place, sometimes about the other, in a delicate blending of received wisdom. The smartest and most moving moment highlighting what it means to make music that I heard this year. – Steacy Easton

Katie Gavin, What A Relief

For years now I’ve been making an incredibly silly joke about how “MUNA are my favorite bluegrass band.” With her first solo album, the group’s lead singer and central songwriter, Katie Gavin, brings their resplendent and queer musical universe decidedly into our roots music realms. Producer Tony Berg (Nickel Creek, Molly Tuttle, Amythyst Kiah, Andrew Bird) in the control room and Sara & Sean Watkins as session players are just two of the inputs that make What A Relief delightfully folky, fiddley, and string band-infused. MUNA’s acoustic set at the iconic Newport Folk Festival this summer – and Gavin’s totally solo, side stage Newport performance of much of this material – further solidified the dancey, club-ready group as a true folk ensemble.

At first it was a joke, but I don’t think it’s a joke anymore! Like all of Gavin’s work, these songs are both fun and gutting, poignant while light and convivial. What A Relief is a standout for 2024. – Justin Hiltner

Liv Greene, Deep Feeler

Liv Greene is a huge cry baby – and a liar. She even comes right out and admits it on the first line of her new album Deep Feeler:

“I’m aware I’m a liar. Always lying to myself about my expectations/ I’m aware I’m a crier, and I know. All this crying doesn’t help the situation…”

Greene, who is the Deep Feeler in question, has grown tremendously on her sophomore album. She’s become one of the most promising young artists to create songs that tap right into the center of your heart. This is enormously true on her 2024 album through songs like “Wild Geese,” “Flowers,” and “Made it Mine Too.” She attributes that growth to honestly writing about being queer for the first time. Deep Feeler crawls in and stays with you. Who knew honesty could feel this good? – Cindy Howes

Brittany Haas & Lena Jonsson, The Snake

On their second duo album of fiddle tunes (their first, self-titled collab dropped in 2015), Brittany Haas of Nashville and Lena Jonsson of Stockholm went even deeper into what’s possible in the blending of their native countries’ fiddle traditions. This time, they leaned far more on the Swedish end of the collaboration, emphasizing harmony over chord progressions, exploring the possibilities inherent in “second voice” dueting. They also tried their hand at writing a suite in the style of J.S. Bach – no small feat. The result is an utter delight for music geeks and casual fans alike, as folks can appreciate the languid lines and danceable moments they weave together throughout. – Kim Ruehl

Humbird, Right On

I remember where I was the first time I heard Siri Undlin sing, “There is an old barn on a ghost farm / Hollowed out and filled with stars…” the opening couplet of Humbird’s take-no-prisoners roots rocker “Cornfields and Roadkill.” I will reluctantly admit to some initial resentment that a songwriter who wasn’t me had written a song of such poetic efficiency and political potency. Undlin’s songwriting shines throughout the nine tracks of 2024’s Right On: the quiet earnestness of “Quickest Way” would have been at home on an early Kacey Musgraves album, and “Song for the Seeds” lays out both practical and spiritual methods for liberation, Farmer’s Almanac-style. But the palpable chemistry between musicians playing in a room together is the star of the show here. Humbird is an essential band to listen to as we watch the American empire crumble in real time. – Lizzie No

Katelyn Ingardia, “Silence”

This year, Katelyn Ingardia’s “Silence” got me feeling some type of way. I don’t know what they injected into this song, but I’m quite literally addicted to it. Bad day? I’m playing “Silence.” In a long line for coffee? I’m playing “Silence.” Cooking up girl dinner? I’m playing “Silence.” I scream a little on the inside every time I hear the fiddle kickoff.

The timbre of the song is so nostalgic of an early Union Station or Sierra Hull record, but Ingardia’s performance sets herself apart as something completely fresh and original. The writing, delivery, and production are all impeccable and her voice is like honey. And if all that wasn’t enough for ya, Ingardia just dropped her debut record, entitled Getaway. Some of my favorite tracks are “Lost Love” and “Talk to Me.” Y’all keep an eye on this gal as she continues to blossom into her career so we can all say we were here at the beginning. – Bluegrass Barbie

Cris Jacobs, One of These Days

Within the rock and jam realms, the name Cris Jacobs has been well-regarded and sought-out for many years, especially with his early project The Bridge, a vastly popular Baltimore-based rock ‘n’ soul ensemble up and down the Eastern Seaboard in the early 2000s, only to disband in 2011.

But, for the guitar wizard himself, it was Jacobs’ 2024 release, One of These Days, that really catapulted him into the national scene, especially in the Americana, bluegrass, and folk arenas. Produced by Jerry Douglas and featuring the Infamous Stringdusters as its backing band, the album includes appearances by Billy Strings, Lee Ann Womack, Sam Bush, and Lindsay Lou. At its core, One of These Days circles back to Jacobs’ early bluegrass, folk, and blues influences. But, more so, the record finally tells the rest of the world what a lot of us have already known for some time now – Cris Jacobs is one hell of a talented singer, songwriter, and musician. – Garret K. Woodward

Bronwyn Keith-Hynes, I Built A World

The longtime fiddler for Molly Tuttle & Golden Highway shows off captivating songwriting alongside her impeccable playing skills and impressive vocals on I Built A World, her first album in nearly four years. Featuring the likes of Tuttle, Sam Bush, Dierks Bentley, Brit Taylor, and her husband Jason Carter, the 11-song adventure from Keith-Hynes – up for Best Bluegrass Album at the 67th Annual GRAMMYs – follows her journey from being homeschooled to making a living as an independent musician on her own terms.

Standouts range from the frenetic, longing “Will You Ever Be Mine” to the waltz-like, Dobro-heavy “The Last Whippoorwill,” proving that Keith-Hynes is poised to be a power player in bluegrass and country music for years to come. – Matt Wickstrom

Amythyst Kiah, Still + Bright

The sparkling singer-songwriter Amythyst Kiah sought a different direction this year for her third solo LP. She’d previously shown her ability to deliver emotionally powerful, socially relevant, and poignant material. But she wanted her music to reflect other aspects of her personality in her latest work, both her warm and humorous side, plus her interest in Eastern philosophy and spirituality. All these things are nicely balanced in Still + Bright, with Butch Walker’s production touches incorporating unexpected musical contributions like nifty pedal steel licks or fuzztone guitar riffs, plus Kiah’s own supportive and inspired banjo colorations and edgy lead vocals.

It was a tour de force that was even more impressive in live performance, and Kiah got rave reviews throughout her tour that included highly appreciative responses from the crowds who saw her performances during Americanafest in Nashville. In addition, Kiah’s been part of Our Native Daughters (an all-women-of-color supergroup also featuring Rhiannon Giddens, Leyla McCalla, and Allison Russell). She extended her collaborative outreach on Still + Bright, working with such co-writers and features as punk legend Tim Armstrong, Sadler Vaden (a guitarist-vocalist for Jason Isbell’s 400 Unit), former Pentatonix member Avi Kaplan, and Sean McConnell (a singer-songwriter who’s also written with Brittney Spencer and Bethany Cosentino). All this reveals a dynamic artist willing to continue exploring new areas, while making some of the year’s most intriguing and exciting music. – Ron Wynn

AJ Lee & Blue Summit, City of Glass

In case you have any doubts about the absolute magnitude of AJ Lee & Blue Summit, I will personally fund your one-way ticket to this transparent metropolis. City of Glass presents precisely what its title suggests – an entire ecosphere generated from its contents. The 12 tracks on this album cultivate a moving array of sensibilities, from tender love ballads to humorous narratives to honeyed poetics to grade-A yodeling. Brimming with multi-hyphenate talents, AJ Lee, Sullivan Tuttle, and Scott Gates all contribute lead vocals and songwriting credits to the compilation. Jan Purat’s fiddling serves as a raconteur, always perfectly delivering each narrative. Tuttle’s sister, Molly, even makes the trip from her City of Gold to join in for a tune. All in all, this album is a wondrous sonic journey that anyone would be remiss not to make! – Oriana Mack

MJ Lenderman, Manning Fireworks

From Hurricane Helene-ravaged Asheville, North Carolina, singer-songwriter MJ Lenderman has always been more than solid in the field of twangy indie-rock. Nevertheless, he took a quantum leap forward this year with the spectacular Manning Fireworks album, especially the song that falls in the exact middle of the track list. “She’s Leaving You” is the heart of Manning Fireworks, with verses that sketch out a tawdry Las Vegas hookup. But the part that resonates is the chorus, sung by Lenderman in a raw voice that falls somewhere between deadpan and shellshocked: “It falls apart, we all got work to do/ It gets dark, we all got work to do…” Lenderman repeats the line a half-dozen times and you would, too. If ever a chorus summed up the exhausted anguish of a moment in time, it’s this one. – David Menconi

Brenna MacMillan, Dear Life

Bluegrass, as an industry, operates about a decade behind the curve. As such, it feels more than remarkable when you find a straight-ahead bluegrass artist who’s not only on the cutting edge, but may be the actual blade. Brenna MacMillan’s debut solo album, Dear Life, displays all of the ways this picker, songwriter, singer, content creator, and online personality is pushing the trad envelope and establishing new models for success in the genre. Bluegrass has always felt like a direct-to-consumer business, but never with this level of intention – or with such ease on new media and social media.

Dear Life is a gorgeous collection, filled with MacMillan’s Nashville community and several legends, too – like Ronnie McCoury, Peter Rowan, and Sarah Jarosz. It’s down-the-middle bluegrass, but it’s entirely fresh and unique, with engaging songwriting and often surprising contours and melodies. There are many exciting things about MacMillan’s artistry, but the music is the most entrancing of all. – Justin Hiltner

Andrew Marlin, Phthalo Blue

This quietly-released full-length instrumental album from Watchhouse’s Andrew Marlin was far and away the record I found myself returning to over and over again in 2024.

The name Phthalo Blue refers to the family of blue and green pigments most often used in painting (I had to look this up). At first I wondered why Andrew might choose a title so obscure and hard to pronounce, but the more time I spent digging into both the music and the color family, the more they took me to the same calming, centered place.

I have loved all of Andrew’s non-Watchhouse endeavors over the last few years – from his multiple 2021 releases to Mighty Poplar to his recent release, Wild Rose of Morning with Jordan Tice and Christian Sedelmyer. Hopefully he continues to deliver more of this prolific, purely creative output, seemingly unfettered by commercial expectations; simultaneously reverential to the instrumental traditions it pulls from and inherently perfect for our modern age. – Amy Reitnouer Jacobs

Middle Sattre, Tendencies

Middle Sattre are part of a movement of queer artists brewing down in Austin. Their brand of indie folk is as devastating as it is finely crafted. Tendencies is a painful autobiographical work, presenting vignettes of growing up queer and Mormon. The collective navigate these stories with care and delicate musicianship, building a portrait of sorrow – and a determination to survive. This kind of documentation, of people who stay true to themselves no matter the cost, are essential now more than ever. There is a deep and serious artistry in Tendencies, haunting, beautiful, and impossible to forget. – Rachel Cholst

Aoife O’Donovan, All My Friends

It was difficult to imagine what would follow Aoife O’Donovan’s Age of Apathy, her reflection on living through the pandemic. However, with All My Friends, O’Donovan shows how well her creativity and artistic style can thrive in new musical and lyrical territory. I love how this album includes guest artist, orchestral, and choral collaboration, making the music itself feel as grand and complex as the album’s themes: the women’s suffrage movement and one of its leading figures, Carrie Chapman Catt. O’Donovan’s wordplay is as sharp as ever and she doesn’t shy away from historical details or present-day truths, whether celebratory or sobering. The production and arrangements do everything possible to complement and enhance the impact of the songs, even if that means turning everything down to let the implications of O’Donovan’s words sink in. Be prepared to feel so much, but then want to start it all over again. – Kira Grunenberg

Katie Pruitt, Mantras

Katie Pruitt possesses a voice for the ages. In 2020, the powerhouse made an incredible splash with her debut album, Expectations, a raw and cosmic set that drowned out all others. Her songwriting pen proved to be as potent and razor-sharp as her vocal cords. Four years later, Pruitt still defines the soul-crushing Americana genre on her own terms. With Mantras, she expands her musical sensibilities and stretches her creative muscles in impressive ways. Such moments as “Jealous of the Boys” and “Blood Related” serve as needle-prick moments of sheer vulnerability, woven together with her signature mountain-rattling peaks (“All My Friends”). Pruitt pieces together a tattered photo book, one that gives a glimpse into her very soul. – Bee Delores


Photo Credit: Amythyst Kiah by Photography by Kevin & King; Katie Gavin by Alexa Viscius; Bronwyn Keith-Hynes by Alexa King Stone.

Becca Stevens Strips It All Back on ‘Maple to Paper’

In her dynamic, restless career, Becca Stevens plans to never repeat herself, like the proverbial waterway that’s never the same river twice.

Since being noticed by New York Times jazz critic Nate Chinen in 2008 as a 24-year-old “best kept secret,” she’s collaborated with: David Crosby and his Lighthouse Band; jazz orchestra Snarky Puppy; the modernist ensemble Kneebody; pianist Brad Mehldau; harmony genius Jacob Collier; the neo-classical Attacca Quartet; and others. Her five solo studio albums, especially the mind-stretching and richly grooving Regina (2018) and Wonderbloom (2022), have mingled folk-grounded melodies and jazz-deep harmonies with pop dazzle. The common denominator has been her uncommon voice, which is conservatory-trained, but utterly unique and enthralling. She is, in my humble opinion, one of the finest overall musicians making song-based music today, a peer to 21st century savants St. Vincent and Madison Cunningham.

One frontier that remained for Stevens was, ironically, the most obvious for a singer-songwriter – the solo acoustic album. Her version of this venerable format finally arrived in late August with Maple to Paper, a 13-song collection that was shaped at every level by a series of landmark life events. After marrying Nathan Schram, violist in the Attacca Quartet, she gave birth to daughters in 2022 and 2024. Their family moved from New York to Princeton, New Jersey. Her mother died, as did her close collaborator and friend David Crosby.

Stevens alchemizes this season of change, love, and loss through songs that challenge conventional forms with rich and fearless lyrics that play at times like Emily Dickinson set to classical guitar. On the cover, she’s demurely naked behind a guitar. In the grooves, she’s as vulnerable as we’ve ever heard her. As she told me of her emotional multiverse of the past few years, “I felt uncomfortable about sharing it, but I also was like, well, if I’m going to do this, I might as well make it completely exposed.”

It’s easy to suppose that the changes of the past few years – moving, having children, losing your mom – made a solo acoustic record sound more appealing at both artistic and practical levels?

Becca Stevens: Absolutely, yeah. You’re spot on. Two things can be true. So the choice to do this album completely solo and from home both served the concept and integrity of the album. But it also was maybe the only way that I could have gotten it done during that time.

Just to put that into perspective, you know, there was the logistics of the grieving. The loss of my mom was super fresh, and I had a six-month-old who was part-time in daycare. And then towards the end of the recording and writing process, I was pregnant again. So there was the logistics of being a new mom, of having morning sickness, of being in a new place, of grieving my mom, and all of that was so much more possible to do from home. But I resisted it.

For a long time, I had the idea of recording the demos at home and then going into the studio. But I went back and forth a lot with Nic Hard, who mixed it with me. He also did Wonderbloom. And the deeper that we got into the material, the more crystal clear it was that the songs were best served if performed live – guitar and singing at the same time – and performed at home, where I was really in the character and in the feelings.

Did writing and making art feel like what you wanted to do under all those cross-cutting pressures and changes, or did you have to force yourself a bit through the work?

“Want” is maybe the wrong word. I felt like, at least for the grieving part, I had to do it because it was like I was going to explode if I didn’t do something. And it was a confusing loss – something that left me with a lot of questions. Ever since I was a kid, I’ve been somebody who processes confusing emotions through writing songs or stories, or art in some way.

I felt like I needed to do it. But also, yes, there were times where I just absolutely did not want to and just wanted to lie on the floor. And I had to find a way to incorporate that as part of the process, so that I could forgive myself. I literally had a futon on the floor of my workspace, where I told that part of my brain, “You are invited to lay down there whenever you need to. You’re not at a studio. The clock’s not ticking. You’re not paying for this.” I called it my Womb Room. And I would put on salt lamps and put the lights down really low and lay down. And then some of the songs came from that space.

Some of these feel more like classical art songs than folk songs, in that they’re not shaped around a set number of measures or predictable beats. Did they feel a bit like that to you?

Yeah, the song “Payin’ to be Apart” comes to mind. It definitely felt that way; a little less folky, more like poetry that just happens to be on a wave of music. It’s interesting to hear you say that, because in the writing process – harmonically and in the accompaniment – I took a much simpler approach than what I have done before, on Regina or Wonderbloom, on everything really. Because I put so much intention and honesty and, like, blood, sweat, and tears into the lyric, I gave myself permission to let the waters that it was floating on be a little less turbulent artistically, a little less complex and a little more like I was trying to cradle them and deliver them in a way that takes care of them and makes it easier to metabolize – or something.

Was your mindset different, knowing there’s not going to be the grid of the drum beat? Can drums be a bit of a cage sometimes?

Yeah, they can be a cage. But they can also be like something that’s really cozy to lean on in the arrangement. Like, I can drop everything and have it just be drums and vocals for a verse and it feels really good. But for this album, I set a goal that the songs are meant to be performed as just me and the guitar, because that’s how they were recorded. That means that whatever break that I gave you in Wonderbloom by stripping down the arrangement and going to drums now needs to be created with whatever tools I have by myself, whether that’s narrative, or a right hand finger pattern, or fill in the blank.

This made me wonder how much you have performed solo acoustically in your career, given the emphasis on arrangement on a lot of your records.

Quite a bit, yeah. I have a lot of respect for my bandmates. And if there were ever gigs that we were offered where I felt like I couldn’t cover their fee and treat them well, I would just take it solo. I’ve done that a lot. I’ve done a lot of solo tours. A lot of my writing has started out solo, and I have solo versions – for example, “You Didn’t Know,” the song from Wonderbloom that was inspired from watching the documentary about R. Kelly. That song, I poured my heart out solo and then stripped the solo version back when I was in the studio turning it into the Wonderbloom version.

Solo feels like a home base to me, and it’s something that I think I’ve resisted, because maybe I felt like it wouldn’t be enough. There’s this narrative, especially in the booking world, that they don’t want to book you unless you have more than one or two people on stage, because it’s not enough to create the energy to get the focus of the audience. And maybe it’s not loud enough, you know? I also had that in mind. This might not be very marketable, but I’ve got to do my best to just serve these songs to the best of my ability. And it’s got to get done anyway, because this is how I’m processing this part of my life,

Meanwhile, your tempo of collaborative work never seems to let up. I have my personal favorites, but can you address some of your favorite partnerships here in the last few years?

We haven’t mentioned this yet as part of the story of this record, but knee-deep in the writing and recording stages of this album, we also lost David Crosby. I’d already gotten punched in the face and then I was like, kicked on the ground. Not that it’s about me. The whole world grieved that loss. As I mentioned, when I lost my mom, it was a very complicated grieving process. I took a lot of inspiration from listening to albums like Sufjan Stevens’s Carrie & Lowell, where it’s okay for grief to be ugly and complicated and to show that. But with Croz, it was so sad, because I loved him so much, and I loved being in his band, and I loved writing music with him. But the presence that he held in my life didn’t diminish. I couldn’t hug him, but there was this sort of heavenly presence when I was writing the songs for this album, where I could hear him and see him in my mind, kind of rooting me along.

And tell me about Michael League of Snarky Puppy and the universe that he inhabits with the GroundUP record label, which has been supportive of you all this time. It’s such a fascinating record company. I feel like they’ve got a lot to teach the music industry about curation and cultivation of a tribe, and I’d love for you to remark on how that model has served you.

I like the word tribe. I often think of it as family, but I think tribe is even stronger. I feel safe with that label in a way that I’ve never felt safe with labels before, especially major ones, where, if you’re not performing exactly the way that they want you to, you get kind of put on a shelf, and then your art doesn’t get heard because, because you’re not pleasing the corporation.

With GroundUP, I’ve always felt like whatever I’m getting into is what they want me to do. They’re like, “Your health and happiness and artistry come first and if that’s what you need to make right now, we’re behind it.” And I can’t tell you how liberating and comforting that is as an artist to know that the people that are helping you put your music out have your back. And we all love each other too. We all play together and love each other too.

And speaking of Sufjan Stevens, you got to be on Broadway in his Illinoise musical. What did that add to your world?

Yeah, it was a limited run on Broadway and I did half of the run. So I had Isla, my second daughter, on February 24 of this year. And then I got a call from Timo Andres, who did the orchestrations, saying, “I know you’re on maternity leave. This is crazy. I shouldn’t even be calling you, but I can’t not think of you for this role. Is there a world where you would ever audition for this?” I was like, “Yeah, I could audition and see what happens…” and didn’t expect to get it. I came in with my newborn baby. I handed her to my manager, did the audition, and they called me within a day and said they’d love for me to do it.

Initially I thought, “There’s no way.” I’m giving you all of this extra detail because a huge part of the experience for me was the chaos and the balance of the life that I was living at home for the first half of that day in Princeton – nursing my baby and being a new mama – and then handing her to my husband and jumping on the train for two hours, going into the city just in time to perform, and then coming back home and doing it all again and nursing through the night. It was this superhuman thing that initially I thought, “Oh, there’s no way this is going to work.”

The whole experience was like a dream state – being on stage and singing that music, which I’ve loved for so long. And also, having it not be about me was very refreshing. I’m not the band leader and I’m singing someone else’s music as a narrative that’s coming from the bodies of the dancers. We can lean on the coziness of the production, and just enjoy it.

I would say coming out of that helped me to be less self-absorbed. The headspace that I was in for Maple to Paper was very me, me, me, me, me, me. And then Illinoise was like, “No, it’s not about you. It’s about being in service to something greater than you.” Whether you’re writing a song about your feelings or singing somebody else’s, that’s always what it’s been.


Editor’s Note: Need more Becca Stevens? Check out our recent Basic Folk conversation with Stevens here.

Photo Credit: Shervin Lainez

25 Years On, Yonder Mountain String Band Keep Redefining Bluegrass

For a quarter century Yonder Mountain String Band has inspired a generation of bluegrass fans with its fusion of traditional sounds and intricate jams. That trend continues on Nowhere Next. The band’s first full-length album since 2022, it showcases the abilities of its two newest members – mandolinist and vocalist Nick Piccininni and fiddler Coleman Smith – front and center.

Piccininni connected with the group in January 2020 and Smith was added earlier this year, joining the band’s longtime core of bassist Ben Kaufmann, guitarist Adam Aijala, and banjo player Dave Johnston, collectively bringing a new energy to the band that harkens back to its early days – when they also consisted of the frenetic and oftentimes unpredictable Jeff Austin. Despite being in the band for nearly five years now and co-writing nine of the album’s 11 songs, Piccininni says that joining up with such an established collective was intimidating at first.

“It’s definitely daunting when you come into something that’s been around as long as these guys have,” Piccininni admits to BGS. “But working with Adam, Ben, and Dave has actually come very naturally. They’ve made me comfortable in expressing opinions about the music and giving my two cents. They’ve not once made me feel like I was an outsider.”

In our latest installment of First & Latest, we chart the band’s evolution and trailblazing nature from their 1999 debut, Elevation, all the way to their brand new album, Nowhere Next, a collection that features old favorites familiar to longtime fans alongside new songs sure to make you fall in love with them all over again.

Two songs on this record – “Didn’t Go Wrong” and “River” – have been a part of your live show for years, even making it on to different iterations of your Mountain Tracks compilations. What made y’all want to finally give them a proper studio treatment?

Adam Aijala: Ben sings on and had been pushing both of those. We have about 30 songs we’ve written over the years that aren’t on a formal record yet. Even before Nick joined the band, we’d been thinking about getting into the studio and recording some of them. That being said, I still prefer to write new stuff. When people ask me how you keep going after a quarter century, I always say that if we weren’t writing new material I don’t know that we would still be around. You’ve got to keep things fresh, whether that’s learning new covers or having your own new stuff to perform.

Given the mix of new and old on this record, both in terms of the song selection and rotation of band members, what are your thoughts on where Nowhere Next stacks up with the rest of the Yonder catalog?

AA: When Get Yourself Outside came out, I thought that was our best record, but now I think this one is. I still hold an affinity for albums like Elevation and Town by Town, but I’m really happy with Nowhere Next and what we were able to do on it. It’s still bluegrass, maybe not the traditional kind, but Yonder Mountain’s bluegrass with varied rhythms, tempos, and styles.

One of our biggest influences is The Grateful Dead, and they’re the same way. In the years between their albums – from their self-titled first album to their Skulls & Roses live album, Wake of the Flood, Terrapin Station, and Workingman’s Dead – they evolved in different ways, but always stuck to a similar blueprint no matter what musicians happened to be around them. Similarly, you can still hear elements of what we did on our first few albums today, which songs like “Didn’t Go Wrong” and “River” further help bridge the gap to.

One song that I feel ties together all of the elements that make up “Yonder Mountain’s bluegrass,” that you just spoke of really well, is Nick’s song, “Secondhand Smoke.” Mind sharing a bit about how that one came to be?

Nick Piccininni: The basis of that is that I went through a divorce and when I separated from my wife the first apartment I got had my landlord living downstairs. He was unfortunately confined to a wheelchair and just sat there chain-smoking cigarettes one after the other. I only lasted a month there before I went out and found a new place. In that sense the song was very literal, but there was also the aspect of going through a big change in your life while living in a small town and feeling like everyone is watching you and talking behind your back.

Interesting. I picked up on the themes of deceit, but the literal reference to secondhand smoke is a nice touch. What does the band’s songwriting process look like as a whole, especially with Nick and Coleman now part of the band?

AA: Everybody in this band has written songs that I really like. With that in mind, I don’t think it’s a “too many cooks in the kitchen” kind of situation. It’s more like, I trust that we’re going to get the best song by letting everyone have a listen, peek at it, and hear what they have to say, whether it’s with one of my songs or someone else’s. I’m not someone to hold my ideas close. It’s better not to be married to them, for me at least. For instance, when Dave tells me he doesn’t like something of mine, it doesn’t bother me because he’s not saying it to be hurtful, he’s just giving his opinion and I trust him when it comes to that.

For me most of my songwriting ideas start with music first. I don’t have a great writing regimen or practice, I just wait for something to spark interest and roll with it. But if it’s music first and I don’t really have an idea on what it would be about, I think on the mood of the music and what those chords and potential melody makes me feel and go from there.

What about you, Nick? And has your process changed at all since joining Yonder?

NP: Historically, for me, I’ve been a music-driven ideas guy too. On most days I’ll sit down at home, pick up my guitar and record or work on a few voice memos. Lately I’ve also gotten into a better habit of working on a lyric while on an airplane or sitting at a hotel because we have so much downtime with all of our travel. At the same time, things have changed a lot in the last four and a half years of being with Yonder though. Prior to joining them I’d never co-written. Getting that outside perspective on my songwriting is something I’d not experienced before and has been incredibly beneficial to me.

Although it’s not Nowhere Next or new songs, I wanted to briefly discuss your I’d Like Off EP, a previously unreleased project from 2010 featuring former member, Jeff Austin, that dropped earlier this year. What was the motivation behind finally sharing those recordings?

AA: When we recorded it our intent was to do a full album. We recorded about 13 tracks for it in pre-production at my house, some of which ended up on the EP and others that were never recorded. We’ve had a couple projects like this that we’ve sat on so long that we didn’t see much of a point in releasing so far down the road, but with this one we decided to move forward since everything was done aside from it being mixed and mastered. We’ve been playing “What the Night Brings” and other songs from it live regularly, as well. It helps to keep us interested, which in turn keeps the crowd interested and connected to what we’re doing as well.

What has your time with Yonder Mountain String Band taught you about yourself?

AA: It’s helped to hone my social interactions. If there’s one thing in life I’ve learned it’s that the world doesn’t revolve around you, especially when you’re a traveling outfit with multiple people. You’ve got to learn to roll with things and when we first started the band I wasn’t like that. Before I joined the band, I traveled all over the country in my own vehicle by myself. I got so used to going where I wanted when I wanted, but in a band it’s the exact opposite.

NP: It’s taught me how impatient I can be. Musically, it’s been cool because I’ve usually played banjo, fiddle, and more melodic instruments, but stepping into a mandolin role has taught me just how much of the snare drum of bluegrass it really is and learning to just do one very simple thing repeatedly and lock in on it. It’s been one of the most challenging things I’ve had to take on and pushing myself to do it to the best of my ability has been neat.


Photo Credit: Robin Vega

MIXTAPE: Thomas Cassell’s Songs to Pass the Time

2024 is winding down and like any other year, there’s a lot to say goodbye to as we welcome in the future. Memories (the good and bad), loved ones, homes – all seem to eventually become markers in time.

A marker in my ‘24 was the release of my third record, The Never-Ending Years, in October. The theme of time is common throughout (as the title would suggest), and when BGS asked me to put together a playlist in celebration, I considered the many topical songs that have had an impact on me.

There may be some obvious players left out (sorry, Pink Floyd and Jim Croce) but really, these are simply the songs that have meant the most to me, songs I listen to in eternal recurrence, all having something to do with the fact that time moves on – with or without our blessing. – Thomas Cassell

“Where Did the Morning Go?” – Blue Highway

Blue Highway has had an incredible impact on everything I do. They really set a bar with thoughtful, original material in bluegrass music. This song in particular pulls a heartstring, as the every-quickening pace of life only blurs with time.

“Childish Things” – James McMurtry

There’s an innocence that we lose every day and much of our wonder and curiosity tends to disappear with it. But for me, the contentment of looking back brings calmness and comfort for the future. James McMurtry is on my Mount Rushmore of songwriters and this song (I think) is as good as anything he’s ever written.

“Mama’s Hand” – Lynn Morris (written by Hazel Dickens)

Leaving home is tough, as most anyone knows. Inevitable as it is, it can be hard to say goodbye, no matter the opportunity that awaits. Lynn’s music has brought me a lot of comfort in this life.

“Today” – John Hartford

John Hartford’s songwriting certainly doesn’t need my endorsement, but I think his early records are often overlooked. This song was released in 1967, Hartford’s LA era that gave us “Gentle On My Mind,” “No End of Love,” and so many others. There ain’t nothing but today.

“Last Time on the Road” – Nashville Bluegrass Band (written by Carl Jones)

This song found me at the right time. I was getting burnt out from touring and music in general had become a daily commitment that brought little joy. It was nice to know that others felt the same, but also that they were capable of salvaging the good and moving forward making great music – in the NBB’s case, four more great records.

“Needed” – Robbie Fulks

Robbie Fulks has been a favorite for a long time, partly for his unpredictable performance style – check out Revenge! (Live) – but also for his thoughtful lyricism and vulnerable storytelling. This song highlights the latter, and all the reflection and regret that comes with getting older.

“Blackberry Summer” – Dale Ann Bradley

Is it possible to be nostalgic for a childhood you didn’t have? I think so – at least that’s how I feel when I listen to this song. Dale Ann takes me back to all of my childhood summers, as similar or different as they may be.

“Nail” – Ed Snodderly

Ed is a songwriter’s songwriter, and one of the coolest musicians I know. His group The Brother Boys is an all time favorite, but this song from his 2017 solo record really fits the current theme. The nothin’ here leaves no more.

“Don’t You Know I’m From Here” – Brennen Leigh

Prairie Love Letter is one of those records that I downloaded before a flight and then proceeded to listen to three or four times through before landing (still do sometimes). The writing is incredible front to back, but the opening track really hit me hard. I’m from a very small town and every time I go home, I find I have less of a connection to the place – only a growing longing for one. This song of Brennen’s couldn’t articulate that feeling any better.

“Bed by the Window” – James King (written by Marnie Wilson and Rob Crosby)

The Bluegrass Storyteller. I’m not sure there’s a song that earned James King that title more than this one does. Here’s your reminder to go and visit the elderly in your life, wherever they may be.

“The Randall Knife” – Guy Clark

I couldn’t finish this playlist without including Guy Clark’s magnum opus. There’s a lot I could say about this song, but none of it as well as him.

“Autumn Leaves Don’t Fall” – Thomas Cassell

And if you’ve made it all the way to the end, I’ll reward you with a little bit of self-promotion. Jon Weisberger and I wrote this song after thinking about how the more people we lose, the quicker we seem to lose them. Time is exponential.


Photo Credit: Scott Simontacchi

BGS Wraps: Roots Music For the Season

Each year, the BGS Team likes to “wrap up” the year in music by featuring holiday, seasonal, and festive tunes and songs throughout the month of December. It’s a perfect way to generate holiday cheer while shining a light on some of the high quality new – and timeless! – seasonal music we’ve got playing on repeat each winter. And, it gives us the chance to infuse our veteran/stalwart holiday playlists with some new life, too.

This year, we’ll be sharing songs, albums, shows, and events each day for the first three weeks of December, a musical bridge to bring us to the peak holiday season, the end of one year, and the beginning of another. Check back each day as we add more selections to these weekly posts, highlighting roots music that will soundtrack our solstice, Christmas, Hanukkah, Kwanzaa, and New Year.

What are you listening to this time of year? Let us know on social media! Scroll to find our complete BGS Wraps playlist for 2024 below. You can check out Week 2 of BGS Wraps here and Week 3 of BGS Wraps here.


Chapel Hart, Hartfelt Family Christmas

Artist: Chapel Hart
Album: Hartfelt Family Christmas
Release Date: October 25, 2024

In Their Words: “The Hartfelt Family Christmas album feels like a true classic with a fresh, updated feel that I can’t get enough of. The mix of songs on the album range from ones that make you want to get up and dance to ones that will have you driving and bawling your eyes out. This album is a must-have for the holiday season, as it truly captures the spirit of Christmas, and I believe gives you a warm welcome into the Christmas season with Chapel Hart! I highly recommend adding this album to your holiday music collection.” – Danica Hart, via press release

From The Editor: “One of our favorite groups in country, Chapel Hart are continuing collectivist country sounds a la the Chicks, Pistol Annies, Little Big Town – while keeping it in the family. Sisters Danica and Devynn Hart and their cousin Trea Swindle render classic holiday songs and originals with crisp, mainstream production plus a cozy, living room family reunion vibe. Plenty of special guests appear on the project, too, from Gretchen Wilson and Rissi Palmer to Vince Gill and the Isaacs. It sometimes feels tough to discover new holiday music when the classics we return to each year are such high quality; Hartfelt Family Christmas fits right in, though, and is sure to become a wintry stalwart for many Christmas playlists to come.”


The McCrary Sisters, A McCrary Kind of Christmas

Artist: The McCrary Sisters
Event: A McCrary Kind of Christmas
Date: December 6, 2024
Location:
Riverside Revival, Nashville, Tennessee

In Their Words: “I have always loved this time of the year, because people seemed to love or like each other. We should love all year long, but unfortunately we don’t. So I will take a season of love, rather than no love at all. We take this time of the year to be a blessing to others. It brings my heart joy to be able to give to others. When you have lived without yourself, then you know how it feels when someone takes the time to acknowledge you and bless you. It is important to us to be a blessing to others. This annual benefit show has blessed so many families over the years, and each year we want to give more and more. St. Jude Children’s Research Hospital helps so many families, so it is an honor to be able to give back to them along with local Nashville families. IT IS A BLESSING TO BE A BLESSING.” – The McCrary Sisters, via press release

From The Editor: “The McCrary Sisters are a Nashville institution, as is their annual holiday celebration, A McCrary Kind of Christmas – now in its 15th year. Happening tomorrow, December 6, at Riverside Revival in Nashville, Tennessee, A McCrary Kind of Christmas will benefit St. Jude’s Children’s Research Hospital and will feature performances by Emmylou Harris, Jim Lauderdale, Buddy Miller, Raul Malo, Dave Pomeroy, the McCrarys, and many more.

“This is a Music City holiday extravaganza not to be missed! Tickets are already sold out for A McCrary Kind of Christmas, but for those who didn’t get a chance to support the music and the cause, donations can be made directly to St. Jude’s here. And, lucky for all of us, the McCrarys released their essential Christmas album, A Very McCrary Christmas, back in 2019 – so make a donation, put on the album, and enjoy your own taste of A McCrary Kind of Christmas wherever you are.”


Väsen & Hawktail, “The Tobogganist”

Artist: Väsen & Hawktail
Song: “The Tobogganist”
Release Date: September 20, 2024

In Their Words: “We can’t really believe that we got to make this album with our heroes in Väsen. But we did! It’s called Väsen & Hawktail…” – Hawktail, via social media

From The Editor: “Two virtuosic, groundbreaking trad instrumental groups join forces and cross-pollinate continents – and generations – on Väsen & Hawktail (released in September by Padiddle Records and Olov Johansson Musik). This is a standout acoustic album of the year, certainly; a perfect selection among the album’s stunning tracks for BGS Wraps is ‘The Tobogganist,’ a composition we first highlighted when it was recorded by Hawktail for their album Formations in 2020. Bluegrass, old-time, and fiddle music from any/all countries of origin have catalogs packed full of seasonal and holiday tunes that may be connected to holiday and year-end festivities by title alone. ‘The Tobogganist’ is a perfect example of the form, though its peaks and valleys text paint an exciting and joyous wintry scene for listeners, lyrics or no.”


Caylee Hammack, “Blue Christmas”

Artist: Caylee Hammack
Song: “Blue Christmas”
Release Date: October 18, 2024

In Their Words: “I never knew ‘Blue Christmas’ needed a steel guitar solo until I spent some time reimagining this song, and Bruce Bowden brought the twang we needed to country fry this classic Christmas canon. I take the holidays as a time to revisit old memories and old songs, even when it wasn’t always a happy time for me, but I’ve come around that bend. Every year that I get to produce another Christmas record to share, makes me feel more in love with this season.” – Caylee Hammack, via press release

From The Editor: “Every holiday playlist needs some Good Country – and Caylee Hammack certainly checks that box with her Blue Christmas EP released in October. Don’t miss her playful, personable reimaginations of ‘Christmas (Baby Please Come Home)’ and ‘Hard Candy Christmas’ alongside her twangy rendition of ‘Blue Christmas.’ Hammack has been on the Music City beat for years, the groundwork for the well-deserved momentum she’s enjoying at the moment being laid deliberately and intentionally over time.”


Adam Chaffins, “Layaway Momma”

Artist: Adam Chaffins
Song: “Layaway Momma”
Release Date: November 15, 2024

In Their Words: “I’m not sure co-writer Eric Paslay and I knew we were actually writing a Christmas song when we started on ‘Layaway Momma.’ Little by little, we unwrapped this tale of overcoming adversity while staying true to yourself – told through the story of a mother’s determination to ensure her little boy has a good Christmas. I think in the end, we wrote an anthem to the single parent who is not looking for pity, but is working her way towards the American Dream.” – Adam Chaffins, via press release

From The Editor: “Country and string band textures combine on Chaffins’ timely and tender seasonal track, ‘Layaway Momma.’ While much noise is made in the media, pre- and post-election, about ‘the economy’ and its performance, Chaffins – an accomplished multi-instrumentalist, vocalist, and songwriter in bluegrass, Americana, and beyond – and his co-writer Paslay point out that for many, our economy has never functioned properly. This is especially clear this time of year, as consumption snowballs and those with less feel the financial pinch even more prominently. Chaffins treats his subject, the Layaway Momma herself, with dignity and care – this isn’t just your typical holiday poverty porn, and that’s certainly a breath of fresh air.”


 

‘Welcome to the Plains’ and to the Red Dirt Universe of Wyatt Flores

Each year, the country music machine and its many fans and acolytes turn over, again and again and again, the quintessential question of “What is authenticity?” We’ve asked that very question quite a few times on Good Country over the last year ourselves, and we know as long as roots music and folk music are made, listeners will continue to ponder what is or isn’t “real,” “raw,” or… “authentic.”

Wyatt Flores has been chosen as authentic. Country Music has spoken, and this quickly skyrocketing young artist has been riding a wave lately surfed by folks like Sierra Ferrell, Tyler Childers, Colter Wall, and Zach Top. Like these real country “poster children,” Flores’ music is realistic and grounded. It isn’t idealized revisionism in outlaw trappings. His songs never attempt to sugarcoat or mythologize, paving over the complications of rural life, red dirt realness, or the gritty patina of a rural places – like his homeland of Oklahoma.

Flores’ new album, Welcome to the Plains, is decidedly and delightfully trad country with nearly universal critical and listener acclaim. He currently racks up 3.5 million streams a month on Spotify alone, bolstered by a series of incredibly popular and consistently viral singles and EPs leading up to this, his full-length debut. For so many writers, diehard fans, and critics, Flores has long been “one to watch,” but that visibility stretches further and wider, to listeners across the country and around the world from so many different backgrounds and starting points.

Part of the reason why such a young artist with a relatively nascent career could have already amassed such a coalition of followers is that realistic, unguarded, “I know who I am, even though I’m still figuring out where I’m going” approach. It’s evident in his artistry, his performing prowess, and his skill for songwriting – all of which are evidenced prominently across this album.

Welcome to the Plains is one of the most remarkable records of 2024; it continues a tone long set in Flores’ career and music, even before this current inflection point and its substantial momentum. Wyatt Flores is bound for longevity, for many more successes, for many more millions of plays, as long as he remains exactly who he is: Wyatt Flores.

Your music has such a strong sense of place, so I wanted to start by talking about Oklahoma and growing up there. You’re down to earth in the way that you talk about Oklahoma from the beginning of the album, from the first notes of the title track. You’re viewing it in a very realistic way, not just in an idealized way. Can you talk about how Oklahoma inspired the album and what “home” means to you?

Wyatt Flores: When you think about Oklahoma, you have to [barely] scratch the surface to know that the history behind it is pretty screwed up, how Oklahoma came about, and we’re not one of the best states, if that makes sense? We’re 49th in education. And we’ve got a lot of people from California moving there just because it’s cheaper and everything else, but to live in Oklahoma, you gotta bear through the weather.

Then also, every year is a coin toss if things are going to grow, right? This year’s been a struggle up until this past couple of weeks, [during] which we just got like a foot of rain. But yeah, it’s been one of the hardest places to really build. And the people are so damn nice in Oklahoma, but it’s a tough place to live. Most people don’t want it. But I love it. “Welcome to the Plains,” it’s trying to describe [Oklahoma] … in the verses I really wanted to try and find more of a nature side to it, and then by the chorus just really tell the truth about it.

It feels really authentic and grounded, but you can still hear that you love Oklahoma in it, too. I think that’s a really interesting combination. Country is really good at rural America propaganda – and I love rural America, so I’m for it, to a degree – but to me, your album doesn’t feel like it has to close an eye to the history of Oklahoma to love it.

Yeah, it was a fun journey to try. I was sitting there just trying not to write songs about the road, because that was the only thing that I was doing. I was like, “This is the only life I’m living.” And not many people know what it’s like to be on a bus or on tour – at that time we were still in the van. It was more so daydreaming about home, missing the place, and then just trying to find the memories to piece everything together.

And I had a lot of weird influences, like “Little Town,” I was really trying to find the same feeling as listening to “Pink Houses” by John Mellencamp. I don’t write too many happy songs, and I was not in a good headspace in that time period. For some reason, I guess I was just daydreaming of a better life, and I kept writing about home, but in a different format of not always missing it.

Another song that really captures this topic is “Stillwater.” I love that it has this sort of dark, contemplative tinge and it feels gritty. Could talk a little bit about writing “Stillwater” and about your relationship with “home” and the construction of “home”? That’s such a country tradition as well, not just talking about home and missing it, but understanding that home is a nebulous, intangible thing, even if it literally exists.

There’s a lot of bands that say they come from Stillwater, but they really just started in Stillwater and they came from a different area, since it is a college town. But I was born and raised there in Stillwater. All my life the college has been my backyard. When I wrote that song in the summer of ’22, I had my guitar player with me and my fiddle player’s husband and we sat down to write that. It was more so just trying to give people a different perspective on what it’s like to actually grow up in a college town, because it’s a vicious cycle of the same shit – like, no one else sees it, because they’re living inside of the four years of going [to college].

And me also being a college dropout, I never got to actually go to [Oklahoma State University]. I went to OSUIT in Okmulgee, Oklahoma. And that did not last long. [Laughs] But yeah, I was like, “No one’s ever actually talked shit on a hometown and actually put the name in it.” So I was just being ballsy with it. I had to change quite a few lyrics, because I kind of went a little too far. I probably would have pissed a lot of people off.

The song was intentional. I don’t know, [I wanted to] make people think differently. Because that is my home. A lot of times, you just see people take advantage of the town, and the town keeps growing. Every single time I come back home now, there’s another chicken place and another damn car wash. I was like, “How many do we need?” Good lord. I was really pissed off in the mindset of it. I’m glad that we captured it, because for a while, I was scared to release it just because I was like, “People are gonna think that I hate Stillwater.” But really, it’s still a love song towards it.

It feels like you’re loving Stillwater, you’re loving Oklahoma, but your love for it requires you to look at it through an accurate lens and not an idealized version of it.

And it’s a relationship. My relationship with that town has just been back and forth. You’ll have that resentment, and you’ll have that frustration with it, but you still love it. It’s crazy to think about it that way, through that lens, but that’s what it is.

You touched on your co-writing process and I was excited to see how forward your own writing and your own perspective is on this album. Can you describe your co-writing and collaboration process for these songs? I noticed, too, that Ketch Secor co-wrote the title track.

When I wrote with Ketch, that was super cool. ‘Cause I had just gotten done watching Killers of the Flower Moon. I was already so inspired by that and wanting to really speak some truth. But not just by absolutely laying into people on the bad shit that’s going on – you can’t force-feed people. When we sat down [to write, Ketch] said that he wanted to write shit about Oklahoma and I was like, “That works out great!” The song just came together and it was it’s one of the coolest things, because I didn’t know how to feel about it quite yet. I was like, “This has some good shit in there…” and then when we went to record it, I was like, “Here it is! This is the way it’s supposed to go.”

But with the writing of this entire album, I was scared shitless. I didn’t think I was good enough, and I didn’t think these songs were good enough for an album. I started overthinking the entire thing. People can get mad at me all they want for doing co-writes, but I’m still writing. It’s not like I just sit in there and wait for these people to write these songs for me. This is all me.

The other thing is, my music taste [has] so much variety that I think it’s only better if I sit down with other people that have other strengths, to get to where I want to go – into these different styles of songs. I don’t want to do the same song, different chords, you know what I’m saying? I wanted it to be so unique and to keep it the way that I’ve always done it, which is to have different styles of songs. For that, I feel like you have to have different songwriters come in and give you different pieces.

I also have to ask you about bluegrass. One of the first things that we shared on our site of yours was a Tyler Childers cover that you recorded with Sierra Hull at Red Rocks. Our audience loved it so much. I think part of why your music resonates across diehard country fans to indie fans to bluegrass fans is that you’re not just a performer and a songwriter, but you’re a picker, too. What is your relationship like with bluegrass music? Is it something that’s prominent in your listening and in your influence?

So, I will first and foremost say this: I am not that good of a picker. [Laughs]

That stuff, that is something that I love. That is a different art. That is so beautiful. But my love for it– everyone in Oklahoma started listening to Tyler Childers and that’s when he came around, I want to say in my high school days. That’s when everything took a shift. I was like, “I don’t know what this is…” because we all grew up listening to red dirt [country], which is what I am. But my influence has really changed. In the summer of ‘22, Laurel Cove Music Festival was the first time that I had seen Nicholas Jamerson, Charles Wesley Godwin, Sierra Ferrell, Cole Chaney. That changed everything for me. It changed the entire way that I looked at music, and from that point on I started listening to every single one of those artists. It just led to more.

I love bluegrass and I try to have a couple songs [in that style], but I can’t call myself bluegrass. As much as I love what they’re doing and I try, I have my influences, I’m still red dirt. The way that those artists do what they do, it’s because they are them. I have my influences, but I am still just me. So whatever comes out, it’s just me loving and respecting it. But I can’t fully call myself a bluegrass musician, because I’m not. I’m jealous of it though, I’ll tell you that much. I’m jealous, I wish!

The production style and the different aesthetics that you’re utilizing on the album feel like classic country and old country plus dashes of country & western. There are moments that are really rocking and there are moments that are really subdued. It’s also really modern and crisp. How much of that is coming from you or from the ensemble and how much is coming from your producer, Beau Bedford?

A lot of that was Beau. I learned so much from him. [Before,] I really didn’t ever get the experience of being in a studio with musicians that are just wizards. Beau really took care of me.

It was a challenge, because we recorded in three different places. We were in Nashville, in North Carolina, in LA, and then we finished in Nashville. We were scared that it wasn’t gonna flow together, being in these different studios and then also just having this [group] of songs. Luckily, it all came together and as different as they do sound, they still flow. That was all just luck. We’re all we’re all sitting there going, “Huh? Hope this goes right!” I had my doubts, too, and [Beau] goes, “Wyatt, everything’s gonna be all right, because you are the main character that runs through this entire thing.”

That’s the constant throughout the entire project. I’m just lucky that it worked. When you go from different styles of songs – red dirt, and then you got this beachy [thing], old-time. It’s just crazy how they all go along together. Then it goes into this weird psychedelic rock and “Falling Sideways.” It was a wild adventure, and I’m so grateful for it. I just can’t believe the way that it turned out.

I ask this last question often, especially with people like yourself who are so effortlessly traditional country. There are a lot of folks out there who are excited about you – and artists like Zach Top and Tyler Childers and Zach Bryan – because these listeners sense that there’s this “new movement” that’s going to save country music, that’s going to renew country. That country is going to be what it used to be before “murder on Music Row.”

I wondered what your thoughts and feelings are on that paradigm? Because I sense that you don’t care so much about what is or isn’t traditional or what is or isn’t “inside” country. Does country music need to be saved? Do you see yourself as part of that saviorship? Do you care?

There’s something to be said about it, because yeah– I have my opinions about commercial country. There’s some really good songs and then I also think there’s some songs that say absolutely nothing. I guess as a songwriter, my goal is to keep writing about real shit and keep expressing myself with vulnerability. And to still write good songs.

I have a very important person in my life who’s been a mentor to me; his name’s Shane Lamb. I used to talk about writing these super-poppy melodies. And he goes, “Yeah, it’s because it’s popular music. … Who are some of your favorite artists?” We started going through Tyler Childers, early on in the days of me being in Nashville. [Shane] was like, “Listen to the fucking melody, Wyatt. It’s a pop melody. It’s for popular music. That’s why it works. But his arrangement is country.”

And I was like, “Oh… when you think about it that way, yeah, I guess you’re right.” So, I do try to have poppy melodies as much as I can, but I still try and keep my verses very needy, if that makes sense. I like putting a whole bunch of detail and really trying to focus in on the verses and let the chorus speak for itself.

That’s so perfectly put; yes, country has always been popular music. It’s one of my favorite Tyler Mahan Coe quotes, the creator of Cocaine and Rhinestones, the podcast and the book. He talks regularly about how country music has always been popular music. That’s not to say that fact absolves Music Row and Music City from all the truck and beer songs, but it certainly helps remind us that hand-wringing over “Is country music going to be okay?!” is not something that’s ever going to go away, but it’s also not something we really need to worry about.

And I think for the first time ever with social media, people are able to find new music that’s always been there. They’re just now finding out about it for the first time, because the radio stations aren’t playing it. That’s its own deal. But now they’re able to find all this new music and I feel like country is still going to be country. Like you said, when it comes to beer and truck songs, I think the thing that’s missing is them not explaining what they love about it. They’re just talking about it, not being vulnerable with it.

I think about “Drive” by damn Alan Jackson, dude. That is just talking about driving. That’s really all it is, but the sentiment is there, because it has to do with the father and the son. And then, all of a sudden, there’s the father and the daughter – that is fucking awesome country music that I still absolutely love! I wish that I could do that, like that Zach Top thing. I told him that whenever I met him, I was like, “Dude, I wish I could do it.” I really do. ‘Cause he’s fucking killing it. There’s so many different styles of music and I’d rather just do what I want to do, which is all of them, rather than just settle for one sound.


Photo Credit: Natalie Rhea

BGS 5+5: Kasey Anderson

Artist: Kasey Anderson
Hometown: Portland, Oregon
Latest Album: To the Places We Lived
Personal Nicknames (or rejected band names): For a brief while in my early 30s I was convincing people to call me “T-Bone,” but it died out pretty quick.

Which artist has influenced you the most – and how?

I’m extremely fortunate in that the artists who influence me most are, by and large, my friends. I’ve been doing this a long time and had the opportunity to meet a lot of people, many of whom were heroes to me before I met them and remain so. Others have become heroes to me over time, through their work and friendship and their orientation to the world.

Hanif Abdurraqib, Kaveh Akbar, Melissa Febos, Brandon Shimoda, Lizzie No, Adeem the Artist… those are all friends whose creative work inspires and influences me – and whose orientation to the world, to their communities, and to their places within the world/their communities inspires and influences me.

One of my dearest friends, Ellen, runs a harm reduction program here in Portland and her approach to community and care has been an enormous influence on how I experience the world, and in turn, I see that influence in what I write. My family informs and influences me every day, in ways I sometimes don’t even realize until I hear them come back to me in my songs. I think when I was younger it would have been easier to say, “Bob Dylan, Steve Earle, Joan Armatrading,” whatever – Mike Watt, who I just spoke to last week. The list is long, you get the point – and of course that’s still true; there’s a long list of artists whose work influenced mine but, again, I’ve been doing this a while. The people who have a significant impact on my life, the people I love, they find their way into the work as much as anyone or anything else.

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

Eric Ambel taught me about the importance of lunch during a recording session. I’m not really a lunch eater – I never have been – but getting that break, that time to just be together, is important. My inclination is always to work from the second mics are set up until the second they come down. I’m glad I’ve been surrounded by people smarter than me who know when to take a break. It doesn’t matter as much when lunch happens, just that it happens. Just that people get a chance to extract themselves from the process for an hour or so.

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

I didn’t realize this until much later on, but I hid behind most of the characters I wrote on Heart of a Dog and Let the Bloody Moon Rise. At the time, and for years after, I talked about those songs as if they were all works of fiction – or at least about people other than myself – but once I had some distance from those records and had been in recovery for a while, I recognized myself in all those songs. I had been writing to myself, about myself.

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

I think what might surprise people more than anything I do listen to is the fact that I don’t really listen to Americana or country music much. I listen to my friends’ records, if something comes out that a lot of folks are talking about or someone recommends I’ll check that out, but I don’t really listen to the kinds of songs I write, at least not much anymore.

If you didn’t work in music, what would you do instead?

Well, I am currently the Deputy Executive Director at a nonprofit in Portland, so I’m not sure how much more of a “second job” I could possibly have.


Want more Kasey Anderson? Check out his recent podcast episode of Basic Folk here.

Photo Credit: Matthew Leonetti

Michael & Michaela Kelton on Only Vans with Bri Bagwell

Today we have one of my favorite couples on Only Vans! Michael is currently Pat Green’s drummer and also has a solo artist career. Michaela is the creator and artist behind More Than Music Creations. We talk about losing brain space, being parents, and their unique side hustle.

LISTEN: APPLE • SPOTIFY • AMAZON • MP3

On this edition of Only Vans, my friend Michael Kelton met Kyle and I on the RV when his wife, Michaela – you heard that right, their names are Michael and Michaela – also walked up. She is one of my dear friends, so I invited her to sit down and be a bonus guest on Michael’s episode of the podcast. Michael is currently the drummer for established Texas legend Pat Green (who also had a national hit with the song “Wave on Wave”), but Michael does a lot more than just drum for Pat. I loved talking to him about his Sideman Song Swap show, where “sidemen” such as drummers, guitarists, fiddle players, and even tour managers showcase their own “frontman” talents alongside Michael. It’s very impressive.

Michaela, meanwhile, is a master upcycler and has found a way to take used guitar strings from a bunch of bands – including my own – and turn them into one-of-a-kind jewelry items that we can sell at our merch tables with some of the profit going back to a good cause.

Oh! And the carbon monoxide alarm goes off at the end of the episode in the RV and it is loud. Super sorry about that, my deepest apologies, but I’m warning you now in case you’re driving. It’s also kind of funny! Enjoy!

Thanks to our sponsors, The MusicFest at SteamboatLakeside Tax, & CH Lonestar Promo!


Find our Only Vans episode archive here.

MIXTAPE: A Soundtrack of Life for Another Glory’s Nathan Trueb

Growing up in a musical family, I was exposed to a lot of different sounds from an early age – a lot of them, not by choice. I had a dad who preferred country radio and led gospel music at our church. My mom played classical and Civil War songs on the piano daily while I played with my toys. Next were two older siblings using seniority to lord over the dials at every chance – they also both played classical piano.

As I got older and carved away at my own musical sensibilities, these dictates became accidental influences to the soundtrack of my life and shaped who I have become as a songwriter and musician. This playlist includes some early influences along with music that has turned me on for one reason or another, which I’ll do my best to explain. Thank you to everyone who has helped shape the soundtrack of my life so far, especially my family and mentors. – Nathan Trueb, Another Glory

“Surfer Girl” – The Beach Boys

Some of my earliest memories growing up involve the Beach Boys. I remember the Endless Summer cassette tape and its painted album cover distinctly. We would listen to it on road trips and I remember my dad and his friends playing guitars and singing these songs. My older brother got really into the Beach Boys and I remember he loved this song. Even though he told me he didn’t know why, but it made him sad. It also became my 2-year-old daughter’s favorite song and band.

“Why Not Me” – The Judds

As much as I didn’t want to like country music, it started to become harder to make excuses as to why just as soon as I started to play the guitar and take music more seriously. If you were to ask anyone in my grade school what music they liked, the only acceptable answer was, “Everything BUT country.” The more discerning my ear became I couldn’t deny the masterful playing and even, dare I say, “shredding” of the players on these then-contemporary records. The other thing that country brought to the table were some perfectly crafted, three-minute-and-twenty-nine second pop masterpieces like this one. Although I couldn’t show it outwardly to my family, I was rocking out on the inside.

“Black Cadillac” – Lightnin’ Hopkins

We used to go over to my uncle’s house from time to time when my mom was at work. On one visit, around the time when I had just started playing guitar, I found out my uncle played a left-handed acoustic guitar that I really admired. I also had no idea that he had been learning some blues and showed me a few licks and we jammed together. He had a few records laid out and this one leaped into my hands. He put it on and I couldn’t believe my ears. The voice, the guitar, the storytelling and humor. I did that thing where I didn’t let go of the record until my uncle suggested I take it home. I still play that same copy to this day.

“Going to California” – Led Zeppelin

I owe the most to my brother as a musical influence – I guess just influence in general. He was always there with the next record I needed to hear. It was a pipeline from his friends to him, him to me, and then me to my friends. I’ll never forget the day that he played me Led Zeppelin and it completely blew my mind. Growing up in a conservative household, I had never heard anything like it and everything changed after that. I became obsessed with Led Zeppelin like people get obsessed with Harry Potter or WWII. “Going to California” came to me around the time of first loves and I really got it. “Sell the Farm” off of the Another Glory record is a direct hat-tip to this song. I love the way it made me feel and how it still transports me to long phone calls in my attic room in the summer time.

“Michelle” – The Beatles

My first memorable crush was named Michelle. She was my sister’s friend and would visit our house often. We grew up on a farm and that meant that my brand of flirting was often hurtling cow pies at my sister’s friends. Somehow that first love was unrequited.

I remember a trip to the Puget Sound where my brother loaned me his Beatles 1962-1966 disc (the red one with the whole apple/cut apple on the compact disc), popping it in the Discman, putting the headphones on, and listening to that song over and over. I loved it, but it made me sad. Now I knew how my brother felt when he listened to “Surfer Girl.” I sing this song to my daughter and it’s still amazes me that they wrote it. Like, how? I’m sure there’s a story about it somewhere, but I don’t think I really want to know. My wife and I have been together since high school and the first time I visited her bedroom she had every single Beatles album in a dedicated, spinning CD tower.

“Naptown Blues” – Herb Ellis

My mom was driving me to school one day my freshman year and I had the local jazz radio station on, 89.1 KMHD. I think playing the guitar a lot when I was homeschooled for a couple years took me on a trajectory from Led Zeppelin to Steely Dan to trying to understand jazz by listening to the radio. This song came on as she dropped me off. I said, “I don’t know what this is, but I want to play like that.” Bless her heart, she must have written it down as the DJ read that title after the song ended (in their soft, publicly-funded morning voice), because I unwrapped this CD for my next birthday and I remember listening to it while I went to sleep until I had every part memorized.

“Don’t Think Twice, It’s Alright” – Bob Dylan

Speaking of girlfriends, my first real girlfriend in high school had an older brother who was a Dylan fanatic. I remember looking through his 72-disc Case Logic CD case. I opened up the first page, Dylan. Second page, Dylan. The entire thing was filled with Bob Dylan. He asked me if I was a fan and I remember saying, “not yet.” For some reason I had a feeling I might be someday.

Well, I don’t remember how, but when I moved out of my folks’ place this song hit me like a freight train. Dylan’s influence is so obvious in any modern music, especially when you are a guy fingerpicking a guitar, but we have to give credit where it’s due. I’d like my old girlfriend’s brother to know that I finally crossed the Rubicon.

“My Funny Valentine” – Bill Evans & Jim Hall 

I’ve had a few guitar teachers in my life and had the pleasure of taking some lessons in college from Jerry Hahn. He had his own books and I think was a big fan of Jim Hall. He turned me on to this record and this style of walking bass with chords. He also taught me to keep a list of “must-have” or “must-find” records in my wallet for the record store. I still have a list to this day in my notes. He said this one should be on there. Years after taking from him, I found an original copy somewhere in California. This is one of my all-time favorite records.

“Run That Body Down” – Paul Simon

I got pretty into this record at some point and into Paul Simon’s writing in general. I used to have two enormous PA speakers that we used for band practice in my basement. Late at night I would sit between them and listen to music very loud. This song was on and the guitar solo caught me by surprise. I looked up the song to find out who played the solo. It was my old teacher, Jerry Hahn!

I ran into him at a jazz club not too long after and asked him about it. He recalled it perfectly and said he turned down the offer to come to the studio because he was “too busy.” They kept calling, so he went and remembered being frustrated. Take after take, Paul wasn’t getting what he wanted. Finally Jerry took the solo in a totally different direction, against his good sense, with the wah pedal and all. After the take Paul exclaimed, “That’s it!”

“One Mo’Gin” – D’Angelo

After listening to all of the Motown one can get their hands on, you start to wish there was more. Or, that it continued to evolve into modernity with class and style instead of flaming out, morphing into disco dances by designer drugs. Like when your parents started “raising the roof.” At some point you just have to put it down, like Old Yeller. Then decades later someone comes along who has filled themselves to the brim with that old tonic and others that had filled up on the same, and it comes spilling out in biblical proportions in a perfect statement. Voodoo is that album. D’Angelo is that prophet. I have listened to this record so much in my life that it’s hard to state exactly what influence it has had on me. “Fool For You” was a song written a long time ago and it was a direct attempt to do something in that vein.

“I Don’t Know” – Nick Hakim

As you get older it gets harder to get the same high from music that you did when stuff first really freaked you out – or maybe that’s just me. So, when you find that something or someone, it might become an instant obsession. Nick Hakim had that effect on me. I loved everything he was doing; it was so different, sonically, than most of the bedroom pop stuff or neo-soul. It felt like a modern psychedelic Voodoo, but also just heartbreakingly beautiful. His ability to mix his jazz-school-kid sensibilities with gospel and indie-rock set a high bar and still does.

“The Only Thing” – Sufjan Stevens

It seems that everyone has a favorite Sufjan. His prolific list of albums seem limitless in their scope and bending of genres. The only Sufjan for me is Carrie & Lowell. I don’t think there is an album that equals it in creating a soundtrack for sadness, grief, regret, love, life, and death – at least not that I have found. His lyrical imagery seems to be divinely inspired and it’s hard to pick one part of the song, so I’ll quote the first words:

The only thing that keeps me from driving this car
Half-light, jack knife into the canyon at night
Signs and wonders: Perseus aligned with the skull
Slain Medusa, Pegasus alight from us all

“The Magician” – Andy Shauf

This song came on the radio while I was driving in Portland over a bridge with a view of the river and the city behind it. (I often remember an exact time I heard a song with perfect clarity. Maybe everyone does? “Mo Money Mo Problems” I was passing the Chevron on Molalla Ave., Oregon City, circa 2001.)

After the 8-bar intro to this intriguing new single on the local indie radio station, I nearly crashed my car. I instantly remember being like, “OKAY!” and banging my head when the beat dropped. It’s a perfect song to me and a perfect recording that is perfectly produced. You can’t say that about every song you love.

“If I’m Unworthy” – Blake Mills

Every guitarist sooner or later was exposed to Blake Mills. A friend of mine turned me onto his first album early, before all the hype, and I quickly became a fan. His songs and voice weren’t typical and were totally unique to him. I had watched a lot of videos of him playing and he quickly became the best living guitarist that I was aware of.

His long-awaited sophomore album was finally announced. When he came to town to support the record he was booked in a small room, seated. His name was so unknown I couldn’t find anybody to go with me. I also had inside knowledge that his then girlfriend, Fiona Apple, was likely to make an appearance. So I stood silently in line to the sold-out night and kept my mouth shut.

During his set, I popped out to the bar to get a drink and bellied up to the bar. I let the woman to my left go ahead of me. It was Fiona Apple. She laughed when I nearly spit out my drink. “If I’m Unworthy,” in the moment it was released, became the new “guitar song” for guitar nerds. Every single guitarist has to learn it, as a rite of passage; like Stevie Ray Vaughan or “Sweet Home Alabama.” The song is a snapshot of the Blake Mills that revolutionized guitar once again and then quickly retired, confounding dad-rockers with little tube amps and glass slides adorned to their fingers. Will the real Blake Mills please stand up?

“Body” – Julia Jacklin

MLK & N Fremont, near the Chevron. That’s where I first heard this song. Maybe I only have autobiographical, photographic memories of songs if they involve a gas station, specifically Chevron. We were riding in a friend’s Subaru, which we always drove around in. A peace-sign necklace swinging from her rearview mirror, rain hitting the windshield, the music always blasting. I had never heard the song before and I was all-in from the downbeat. Such a heavy song and so personal.

Julia’s lyrics make you feel like it was you yourself on that Sydney tarmac. And the haunting question, “Do you still have that photograph?/ Would you use it to hurt me?” Like the photograph, the song is naked and circles around a singular progression, building tension until finally quietly cracking open for some light at the end.

“I guess it’s just my life, and it’s just my body…” which, on the first listen, could sound sarcastic, but on the repeat she sounds relieved or at least vindicated. And of course it is probably both. The progression gives hope that this chapter of her life, or ours, is closed. In my experience, that is what a lot of good songs do: close a chapter for the artist and the listener.

“Are You Looking Up” – Mk.Gee

Not a secret any more. Still mysterious, but not just the guitar-guy in the Dijon video. Still shy, but now he’s in the spotlight. The leap from his 2018 album to Two Star & the Dream Police might as well have been a tightrope walk over the Grand Canyon. I loved the old stuff, but when I saw the live video of “Are You Looking Up” with Mk.gee hanging out of a tour bus or train car – whatever it was – I nearly fell out of my chair. I had a hard time explaining why to some who just heard Doogie Howser synths.

His way of playing might not sound outwardly complex or groundbreaking, but in my opinion, it is. Everything about the homespun, demo-quality recordings reminds of me of how a Wu-Tang record sounds completely superior to anything else on MTV at the time, not due to its polish, but rather its grit. Mike’s voice has the perfect dichotomy of rasp and softness. He has a unique ability to sing almost indecipherable lyrics over such memorable melodies that the words could be an afterthought, not unlike Bon Iver.

I had the pleasure of meeting Mike when he came through Portland. He is shy and a lot of lyricists seem to guard their lyrics due to insecurity, but the lyrics are so good, too. I see Mk.gee as the new guitar gunslinger with his outlaw jacket as his cape. He’s single-handedly doing for guitar what The Mandalorian did for Star Wars.


Photo Credit: Ryder Medeles

Dierks Bentley Shines with Sierra Hull, Molly Tuttle, and Bronwyn Keith-Hynes on CMA Awards

A big night for country music ended up being a big night for bluegrass as well when Sierra Hull, Molly Tuttle, and Bronwyn Keith-Hynes joined country star Dierks Bentley on the CMA Awards stage for a show-stopping performance. The quartet, backed by Bentley’s band (including the evening’s winner of Musician of the Year, Charlie Worsham) played a rousing rendition of Tom Petty’s “American Girl,” a huge single for Bentley this year from the compilation album, Petty Country.

Bentley has released plenty of ‘grassy and string band tracks across his career, especially on his 2010 album Up on the Ridge, and he is close friends with many bluegrass musicians and legends. He used to haunt the World Famous Station Inn in Nashville well before his fame and recognition – and well after, too. He’s even gifted commemorative hit records to the bar (which still hang on the walls today) and he’s appeared at the divey listening room dozens of times. He’s also a friend of the McCoury family and has collaborated with Del and sons on multiple occasions. In addition, he’s brought Tuttle and her band Golden Highway out on the road as an opening act repeatedly, and he guested on Keith-Hynes’ now GRAMMY-nominated album, I Built a World.

Tuttle even shared an image to social media from a past MerleFest where Bentley can be seen braving the North Carolina rain to catch her band’s mainstage set in the very front row of the VIP section. It’s no surprise that he would tap Hull, Tuttle, and Keith-Hynes for the CMA Awards, even if the context feels a bit out-of-left-field for diehard bluegrassers.

“American Girl” was truly a highlight of the star-studded awards show, which despite more than a few perceived flubs and snubs highlighted plenty of Good Country, Americana, roots music – and yes, bluegrass! Here’s to plenty more primetime television moments in the future highlighting incredible bluegrass pickers such as these.