Tag: Americana

25 Years of Greensky Bluegrass Connecting the Dots

Posted on by Justin Hiltner

On a recent afternoon, Paul Hoffman is standing in a parking lot in Harrisburg, Pennsylvania. Lead singer/mandolinist for Greensky Bluegrass, Hoffman is pacing around the backstage lot before the gig at XL Live that evening deep in reflection about questions posed over the phone – the core of which focus on the upcoming 25th anniversary of the groundbreaking jamgrass outfit. A while back, in the depths of rural New Hampshire, I interviewed Hoffman for another project and I asked him just what the original intent was behind Greensky Bluegrass.

“To play heavy metal music on acoustic instruments,” he replied, a sly grin emerging across his face.

Now, 25 years since its inception, Greensky Bluegrass has adhered directly to Hoffman’s sentiments. These days, the group has become a marquee live act, one which uses its string instruments to transcend all genres of music, whether bluegrass or blues, rock or country, funk or soul – or even heavy metal.

Case-in-point, the ensemble’s latest album, XXV, is not only an ode to a quarter-century of passion, purpose, and performance, but also a mile marker by which Greensky Bluegrass can measure their own road to the “here and now” – this realm where the passage of time doesn’t necessarily matter, only fleeting moments onstage with the ones you love do.

XXV brings together many of those dear friends and collaborators of Greensky – Sam Bush, Billy Strings, Lindsay Lou, Nathaniel Rateliff, Aoife O’Donovan, Holly Bowling, Ivan Neville, Natalie Cressman, and Jennifer Hartswick. Each of these special guests represent chapters of the band’s continued journey to something – somewhere, anywhere – that kind and curious folks congregate in the name of fellowship, compassion, and sonic joy.

With the starting line of Greensky Bluegrass being an impromptu Halloween gig in 2000 in Kalamazoo, Michigan, other pivotal dots pop up quickly along the way. Like the inevitable camaraderie between the group and other Michigan artists like Strings and Lou, who came up in the same scene and have supported each other ever since. Or, like Sam Bush himself – Bluegrass Hall of Famer and the symbolic face of the Telluride Bluegrass Festival – being featured on the project, reminding how the Telluride stage brought Greensky Bluegrass into the national spotlight when they won its famed band contest in 2006.

For Greensky, the friendships made along the way brought endless opportunities to play alongside one another at a show, a festival, or late-night jam. Opportunities that would always be too good to pass up – don’t forget, fun is the original point, and should remain so.

XXV is also a fresh snapshot of Greensky Bluegrass. The songs are pulled from across the entire timeline of the outfit, from their early days in Kalamazoo to the mountains of Colorado. From the bright lights of Nashville to the backroads of Southern Appalachia. From the blue skies of Anytown, U.S.A., to the sandy beaches of some international destination.

After 25 years, what remains is a band of genuine souls where gratitude is only matched by hunger and curiosity for what resides just around the next corner. Greensky Bluegrass, decades later, remain ready to surprise the listener and to carry on the pure intent that emerged those many years ago.

Now that this album’s coming out, whether consciously or subconsciously, the celebration of 25 years is currently underway. What’s been kind of rolling through your mind?

Hoffman: Primarily gratitude. I’d be remiss to not be grateful that we’ve been able to [do this for 25 years]. It’s a celebration, truly. It feels so cool. We’re doing [the anniversary shows] in our hometown and playing the [Wings Event Center in Kalamazoo] for the first time, which we’ve talked about since we were a very young band. And, you know, something interesting I’ve learned is how excited people are about this retrospective project. In true Greensky fashion, it’s this unique, hybrid idea. Like, “What if we did this? What if it took this turn? What if we recorded this and revamped this?”

We didn’t just make a new record, we stopped to reflect and commemorate in a way that was meaningful to us. And it seems like it’s translating. It’s not even out yet. It’s a unique perspective on gratitude that maybe I didn’t expect. [For XXV], I don’t want to say that it was easy or something. Because we did it pretty quickly and we didn’t have to write any material and we didn’t have to make huge choices about how to present it, because there already is an arrangement and an idea. But, in some cases, we did things differently because we could and we were not beholden to some authority on how it needs to go.

[The recording process] was so casual and creative in this really innocent way – “Let’s just record this and see what happens.” And we just kept recording stuff. We didn’t even know what we were going to do next. Every moment is monumental in some way or another, but 25 years is nothing to scoff at. And this all was birthed from, “What could we do?” With making new music and new albums, there’s a pressure to create something better than we’ve ever done. Or genuine to the brand we’ve created and to ourselves, but also exploratory enough [and] a departure from the norm enough that it’s new and exciting. It feels like such a relief to do [XXV], to approach creating new material from a different perspective.

How did you decide on the guests?

I wanted to find guests that celebrate our story, that are close to us and collaborators and such, but also elevated the material in some meaningful way. And there were real pleasant surprises along the way there.

What did it mean to have Billy and Lindsay on the record, seeing as all of you emerged from the same scene in Kalamazoo and have always supported each other?

I mean, to say that it was sort of obvious and natural is probably an understatement. We joked about why we chose “Reverend,” because Billy plays it [live]. But, I also feel it’s an important song. And for me as a writer, it’s kind of a landmark in my journey as a creative. But again, even though I knew [Billy] would crush it on the guitar solo, some of the phrasing choices he makes are subtly different than mine – I love it. And, man, I can’t stress enough, what a gift [“Reverend” is]. I wrote that song almost 20 years ago. It means something different to me now, and it has throughout my life singing that song.

You’ve always been a very sonically elusive band. Was that by design or just how things evolved?

I think that we just have a spirit to not be limited. So, if we want to emulate all the things we love – and we’d love a diverse amount of things, musical things – we honor the acoustic nature of our heritage as a band, but we want so much more. We want [things] to keep us interested and engaged. We’ve allowed ourselves that creative freedom to try anything. And we think we’ve jumped the shark many times. [Laughs]

With getting older, you also start having different perspectives on what you were creating and how you want to present it.

Yeah. You know, art is timeless in some ways, because you can change your opinion about it or the way you relate to it as you mature.

When you had mentioned that you guys “jumped the shark many times,” I think that’s one of the things I appreciate about Greensky – you’re not afraid to just take a leap.

It’s one of my favorite things about musicians I admire, too, are the ones that I watch struggle to either challenge themselves, push themselves, push their boundaries, or convey a message with emotion that’s challenging, you know? If you’re willing to make a mistake, if you’re willing to truly find the line of your capacity, you have to be willing to cross it to know where it is. I’ve always said – in my later maturity – that I wonder if I’ve crossed it too many times, and in sort of a noble quest with noble intentions. [Laughs]

That’s something I love about Billy’s playing a lot. Despite being one of the greatest guitar players I’ve ever seen, I’ve watched him up there grasping for things and struggling. Struggle doesn’t always have to have a negative [connotation]. To not struggle would be complicit and boring.

The upcoming Halloween shows in Kalamazoo are the official 25th anniversary of when the stars aligned, when you, Mike [Bont], and Dave [Bruzza] played together as Greensky for the first time.

When you started asking the question, my brain went to right about now, [25 years ago]. We met [a few] weeks before Halloween. I was a college freshman and I went to this bar called the Blue Dolphin, where there was a bluegrass open mic. I saw Dave and Bont play and approached them after the thing and was like, “Hey, I just bought a mandolin,” that I’d gotten in late August before moving to college. So, I’d only had it for four or five weeks.

I didn’t know what the hell I was doing at all or what bluegrass even was. I bought the mandolin because of David Grisman, who’s so bluegrass-adjacent that I didn’t know who Bill Monroe was. I knew “Shady Grove.” [All of] which is still just a remarkable thing for me to think about. Like, what hell would my life have been had I not made that choice [to play mandolin]? What a bizarre twist of fate and then here we are 25 years later.

So, you guys met and you said, “Let’s jam”?

Yeah. A couple days later, I showed up at Bont’s house for a rehearsal. Him and Dave would just get together and pick. They were both learning bluegrass. Everything was so casual and just for fun. They would have band practices where we would get together and learn songs and stuff. And I just showed up for the next one and then didn’t go away.

What was the name of that [open mic] band?

Greensky Bluegrass. They were already playing as Greensky Bluegrass, which was named by a friend of Dave’s that played mandolin with him a little bit for fun. It was a joke in jest, “Wouldn’t it be funny to have a bluegrass band named Greensky Bluegrass?”

I don’t think I ever knew that you guys were called Greensky before the official [2000] Halloween show.

Well, I mean, what is “official” is interesting to think about. They were already [Greensky]. It wasn’t their first open mic, either. So, the first time the three of us [“officially”] played was the Halloween show. But, I think I joined them at open mics for a week or two or something [before Halloween]. And Halloween was a party. There was a poster made for fun or something. We were on the bill. Dave was in another band called Seeds & Stems. It was a house party in a house that Dave lived in. [Laughs] A pretty wild party, if I may say so.

So, it was billed as Greensky Bluegrass?

“Billed” is still kind of generous. But, yeah, we played a set in the basement and in the living room. I think the living room upstairs was just acoustic and then the jam band played downstairs in the basement, like colleges do, you know? A couple days later, we played a show at a venue in town, Club Soda in Kalamazoo, that was kind of a legendary rock club through the ‘90s and stuff. It was small, but we played there on a triple bill November 5 or something, [just] days later. And that one, I [still] have the poster. I think that was our first paid show.

Were you doing covers or did [Dave and Mike] have originals, too?

They were playing just bluegrass standards for the most part. It’s funny, that [first] night [I met] Dave, he gave me CDs – Seldom Scene, Live at The Cellar Door, a Rounder Records bluegrass compilation, and a Bill Monroe live show. And [he] was like, “Listen to these. See you on Tuesday at Bont’s house.”

In hindsight, man, to be 18 and have that kind of freedom, you know what I mean? I’ve been recently jamming on electric guitar at my house by myself for fun. And I’ve been thinking, “I wonder if I could find some dads around to start a band with for just fun.” And that experience is so foreign to me now, because I’m so immersed in this thing that’s become my life.

Looking back on it, you kind of jumped into the deep end pretty quickly.

I didn’t take a mandolin lesson until COVID. [Laughs] I was self-taught, because I already knew how to play the guitar – “knew how to,” I use that a little loosely, too. Took some [music theory] classes in high school and college and I’m sort of classically trained. But, I was able to teach myself my own instrument for a really long time. I should have sooner harnessed the strength of learning from another, because when I took a lesson during COVID from a friend, I was like, “I should’ve done this a lot sooner.” [Laughs]

You know, so much of what I was learning in those early days was how to express myself as a writer and find my voice. That stuff always superseded my need for technical prowess. I think we all kind of share that sentiment, all five of us – how to present this passion piece is more important than how to do it. We took on this every-other-week gig and stuff like that [in Kalamazoo]. And the commitment to go play shows for the same crowd every other week inspired us to grow, because we needed to. We had that jam band sensibility of satiating the fans. What can we do next week that’ll keep people excited? What can we do that’s new? How can we make this better?

When you look back, you can see where the dots connect. But, when it’s happening in real time, you don’t realize what the domino effect is, where all of a sudden you’ve found yourself in this band that you’re still in 25 years later.

Yeah. I was 18 [when we started the band]. I’ve lived with Dave and Bont for 25 years of my life. I didn’t even live with my parents that long. [Laughs] I’ve spent 200+ days of [every] year of my life with those two guys for 25 years, and the other ones for many years, as well. It’s kind of wild. It’s so cool that we created this project, [which has become] just a celebration of our relationship and that’s so much more important than what it has become. We care about each other and we genuinely have a lot of aligned goals, artistically and personally. We’re still grinding for it, and I’m grateful for what we have.

I think we’ve been very successful. I feel less “grinding” now and more, “Let’s just go and have some fun and play some shows.” Play where people want us to play and not measure our success by how many tickets we sell. And I’m starting to learn that more now. It took 25 years for me to figure out that what we have is great. We’ve got something cool, let’s just keep doing it.

And that’s got to be a nice place to get to, because you don’t get to 25 years by accident. The fact the original three members are still there is amazing, because that story is not that common in the grand scheme of things in this industry.

Even in our culture. It’s not even [common] in business partnerships, families, friendships. And the reality of that – that I’m learning with age – is that relationships change and everything shouldn’t be measured by the testament of time. I want to find value in a moment that is for the sake of “now” and not some transactional [thing]. Like, if I’m nice to you “now,” then we’ll have this friendship that serves us both and we’ll be there for each other. All that kind of stuff is great, but I want to live in the moment.

I think what’s remarkable is that we’ve stayed together, because we’ve all grown and changed in similar ways and our journeys have aligned the whole time, or for the most of the time. We’ve veered away from each other and back to each other many times. But, when one of us has wanted something different, we’ve all kind of shared that desire. In a way, we’ve been able to all be very sincere to ourselves and grow and change together.

I don’t mean to speculate what other bands are like or anything like that, but I don’t have a lot of relationships in my life that have lasted this long. And not just people, but to things like food or activities I enjoy. The only thing maybe is the way I’ve worn my hair for 30 years. [Laughs] When we grow, our tastes change for all things. But, my [creative, intrinsic] tastes for these four other men have not changed.

Continue to explore our Artist of the Month content on Greensky Bluegrass here.

Photo Credit: Dylan Langille

How “Guidelines” Made Madison Cunningham’s Ace Feel Totally Free

Posted on by Justin Hiltner

It is no news that Madison Cunningham is among the top tier of artists and musicians doggedly pursuing their craft; her newest record, Ace, casually echoes this. Soberly confronting a mountain of grief at home and transmuting its impressions through her open-minded, mature songcraft, the record encourages listeners through a seamless track list whose performances take on the form of open letters to its subjects. She treats an album as the dignified platform it once was and should be and this stance feels radical in today’s streaming-focused world.

A most striking feature of Ace (released on October 10, 2025) is the presentation of her vocals in a more expansive and spacious light, putting aside her much-associated – and anticipated – guitar for the piano, a more than suitable vehicle for this new terrain. Cunningham returns to her native instrument, the keys, as a “lost sojourner,” using it to strip away all but the most critical aspects of the record’s narrative, while highlighting its grooves and timbres.

All the songs played on piano started on guitar and later migrated to it. This practice seemingly grew out of her fascination with embracing the uncomfortable, like the open tunings she is known to use in her celebrated approach to the guitar as an instrument to be challenged and played with. From a new-to-her tuning, to the piano, and then to her band, this game of telephone still allowed Cunningham to sound more like herself.

The game doesn’t stop there. At a lair in Woodstock, New York, in the fall of 2024, Madison and her band committed themselves to a few simple principles: No demos. No vocal comps. “Do the thing that feels most musically true and curious.” And, “Don’t give a shit about what people have known you for.” These rules, in many ways, allow the anthropology of the moment in time during which this record was made to speak loudest. It goes without saying that this path is impossible to tread without a rigorous knowledge of oneself, trust in the folks around you, and, most centrally, the chops to back it up. The consequence of these choices is a record with a narrative “spine” throughout, animating what Cunningham likens to a ballet in its transitions – something she has been working toward both in the studio and on the road since her triumphant, full-length debut in 2019, Who Are You Now.

The song “Wake,” a duet with Robin Pecknold of Fleet Foxes, evokes the kaleidoscopic nexus of Alison Krauss & Robert Plant’s Raising Sand, the orchestration of Gillian Welch & David Rawlings, and the cinematic flair of Gustavo Santaolalla on top. More stripped-down performances, such as “Take Two” and “My Full Name,” demonstrate Madison’s subtle confidence as both a devoted curator and a fearless innovator. Woodwinds underscore and bookmark this collection’s ethereal climate, thanks to the work of Jesse Chandler. Taken as a whole, Ace brings the listener into the same trenches Madison found herself in and onward toward truth in the face of its hardships.

BGS reached Madison Cunningham via Zoom in mid-September to discuss Ace, its making, and the guidelines and rules by which she brought these songs into the world.

I noticed that you described the record as “light” when making it, despite its sober depiction of difficult subject matter. Which aspects were light to you?

Madison Cunningham: That’s a great question. The mission for making the record was really clear and all the “guidelines” were set up well in advance, which was something I had never done before. In the past, my process has been more about figuring it out as we go. This time, my band and I were very prepared. I used the touring band that I’ve been with for the last five years, and the deep collaboration and shared language we’ve developed over that time made everything feel so fluid.

We were all “cracked open” in this special way and we laughed the whole time. That’s probably what I mean the most about the record being “light,” how joyful it felt. I didn’t feel much fear while we were making it. I just had a picture of how I wanted it to sound, and it already was sounding like that. That felt like a relief.

Did you feel like you had less to prove in a superficial sense?

I guess there’s always something to prove. I don’t mean to erase the feeling that I had, which was, of course, a certain amount of pressure or wanting it to level up in some way. But, in light of being quite devastated in my personal life, everything else felt so small compared to the mountain I felt like I was climbing at home.

And maybe that was the gift and that’s why everything felt like it. For whatever reason, everything felt like green lights. It just couldn’t have been easier. Also, I’d never had a more fluid relationship with my label; there was no argument about how this was going to happen. It just was like, “Go. Do it.”

How would you describe the guidelines you had in place for this record and how did they differ from your usual process? Also, did playing the piano more for this record affect your writing style, perhaps making it more expansive in some ways?

I started as a kid on piano first and it had a resurgence in my life in the last three years. I fell back in love with it and I enjoyed the feeling of being a lost sojourner on it, just being like, “Oh, I’m finding all these things that I now am – I found a style here that I’m injecting into my guitar playing.” I wanted to play guitar more like a pianist.

One of my guidelines was, “Just don’t give a shit about what people have known you for, what they might expect. Do the thing that feels most musically true and curious.” And that sounds a lot like permission, but it was also a guideline. Another guideline was, “Make sure that there’s emotional delivery over anything that sounds too perfect. And don’t compromise on that.”

The other set of guidelines were between me and my band: we did a lot of rehearsal beforehand, but we didn’t record anything, so there were no demos. That was a huge rule. I also said, “I don’t want to do any vocal comps. I just want to sing the songs live.” That was helpful. It was another way of being like, “Okay, focus, and be in the room for the moment that these songs are being captured.” So, yeah, there was no previous, “Ah, but shit, we gotta out-beat that one demo we made.” Because that slate was so clean, I think everything was clearer.

During the recording process, do you listen to other music for comfort or do you stay entirely within the feedback loop of your own project? I’m also curious if the recording period was a continuous block of time, which would obviously influence your ability to listen to music.

We did record it continuously, and I don’t usually listen to music while I’m making a record. Honestly, destination recordings help so much with that, because you’re just immersed in the physical and spiritual environment of the whole thing. We were up at a lair and it was fall – it was this time last year – and there’s this beautiful hike that allowed you to look over the reservoir and the golden, brown, red leaves. I felt so romantic that whole time. Even if there was something that wasn’t working, I just had such faith it was going to get there.

We also had a crazy sort of work cycle, which was [that] we would start the skeleton of the song in the morning and then we would record until 2:00 AM and finish it. Again, I think because we all had the guidelines, we were like, “We want every song to have woodwinds pretty much, unless it doesn’t call for it, so we’re going to try and flesh it all out in the same day.”

Jesse Chandler did all that. He’s a genius. We would both talk through things we were both hearing, and then he would just play it all. It was like building a puzzle in real time, and it felt so wonderful to be able to see it all and to feel moved by it. We barely did any overdubs. We did another session in LA a month later after those two weeks up at Woodstock and did a few little overdubs, but we had mainly done everything while we were there.

Ace feels like a return to the “record” as a dignified format. In the lead-up to making it, did you think about the songs as individual tracks – as it relates to streaming culture – or did you focus on creating a cohesive narrative for the entire album?

There are so many examples of records that feel like a full statement and we’ve lost that. That feels radical now. I feel like I’ve made records that have been molded to the current format and I was so disinterested in that this time. I am so over the, “Hey, let’s just do what everyone else is doing,” and, “It’s guaranteed to work.” I really mistrust people when they say that to me, and that mistrust has usually been right.

Even if I see the “format” working for someone else, I’m like, “But that’s not me. That’s not my music, so we can’t say that’s the target, that’s the answer.” I was so interested in making the record feel like a ballet and feeling like the transitions were seamless. It was the first record I felt like I made that had a spine that connected the whole thing and I still find such value in that.

To be honest, we also made efforts to make sure that the songs were not too long. They were separated from their instrumental tracks so that it could work for playlisting. We weren’t, like, fully in protest.

When working on a song like “Wake,” where did that start? How different does it look from when you’re playing it on the couch, versus sitting down with Robin [Pecknold] to record it? Could you walk me through how that song got made? I love how active the guitar parts are, the closeness of the vocal harmonies, and how relaxed everything feels in the recording.

MC: I love that. I really appreciate that it comes across that way. That was the goal and the way that it was written. I wrote it with another songwriter named Will Taylor and we were both just playing these counterparts. And that’s where the seamlessness of it kind of took place; on the recording, that’s the direction I wanted it to go in. Then I just added some different flavors.

All those guitar parts you hear were added and layered, but I didn’t do very many takes of them, so that’s how it might feel live. I didn’t get in there and try to overly correct things. I wanted it to breathe. That has to be one of my favorite songs on the record because we wrote it in a Nashville blizzard and it sounds like that. The guitar part sounds like snowflakes falling in different directions to me, and Robin’s voice is just like a warm fire.

Did you record that in Nashville, or did you just write it in Nashville?

Wrote it in Nashville, recorded it in Los Angeles a year later, and we did all of that, everything that you hear, in one day. I recorded the main guitar and sang at the same time and then Robin sang in the other room. And once we figured that out, we added all the guitars, then Daniel Rhine added upright bass, and then we did the foot stomps at the end. And that was the song.

For the guitar-centric people, is “Wake” in an open tuning, and do you mind sharing what that is?

No, I always forget it, but I’m going to pull it up on my “favorite tunings” column.

It is C-G-D-F-A-C, from low to high. It’s basically an open suspended chord and it’s so tricky. At first, you’re like, “There’s no possible way through this tuning.” And that’s the tuning I wrote all the record on. Every guitar here, it’s in that tuning.

Your music contains rhythmic feels that seem to be informed by drums or percussion, outside of the guitar. I know you’ve played percussion – does your drumming experience influence your songwriting on other instruments? Do you workshop things back and forth with your drummer, Kyle [Crane] in this way?

I feel like if I were to show you the original demos of these songs, there was already such a strong, informed rhythmic thing, more than in the past for me. And Kyle, I think he was playing into, “How do I make this feel like we thought of this at the same time? Or, “How can it feel like that?” For example, “Break the Jaw” came out of a band jam. I wrote the lyrics to it, but the feel of the song wasn’t something Kyle tried to figure out after the fact. We were figuring it out in real time and I think that’s why it came out so cool. Everybody put their stamp on it.

The whole process was us trying to figure out the skeleton of rhythm and how to make it feel like it wasn’t fighting with itself.

I’m wondering how you approach sequencing an album. When you consider the interludes, the streaming world, live performance, and recording, are there specific ideas, people, or records that have helped you learn how to think about the flow and energy of a record from start to finish?

Ooh, yeah, I’m sure. Radiohead is a big one for me. I think the sequencing of their records is so specific. Their opening track is always perfect to me and their closing track is always perfect. From the beginning of making this record, before all the songs were written, I knew which was going to be the first and which was going to be the last. And then Robbie Lackritz – who made the record with me – and I spent a lot of time delineating over sequencing.

The story of the record is important. Obviously, the tempo arc, and the keys melded together. The story has a plot, so that was a big thing. I wasn’t trying to write it like that, but from an aerial view, I was like, “Oh yeah, this is how it connects.”

In the song “Take Two,” you mention a fear of writing simple songs. Did this perceived fear influence the guidelines you set for yourself when writing the album? Also, were the initial ideas for the songs primarily written on guitar or piano?

For every song that ended up on piano, it actually started on guitar – with the exception of the instrumental pieces, which were formed from the piano.

For example, “Shore” started on guitar and so did “My Full Name,” but they felt like piano songs to me because I was doing a lot of transposing between instruments to see if the song was good. I would transfer it between instruments and say, “Yeah, it still has a message.” In doing that, I fell in love with “My Full Name” on the piano.

“Take Two” also started on guitar, and I was like, “I don’t like this song very much. I love what it’s saying, but I find it to be so boring.” It was a song that everybody on my team was attached to. When we got to Woodstock, the song came together on the piano before we were going to record it and I was like, “I love this song.” Something made me say, “Hell yeah.”

On a more technical note, I’m curious about the guitar sound for “Skeletree.” It sounds like a low-tuned nylon string guitar with a contact mic. What was it?

Killed it. That’s exactly what it is. There was this big bedroom with a tall ceiling and that’s where we stored the amp. The contact mic was also sitting in a really big room, which contributed to the fairy dust.

Very cool. Were there any other notable guitars on the record that were new to you or were just lying around the studio?

I used a hollow body for the bridge of “Break the Jaw.” I think it might have been a 330 or something. I really love that you can hear a crunchy, kind of reverb thing just break out for a second. I also used my Collings acoustic. I know I had that for a few, but mainly it was just that nylon string that I stuck with. A little bit of the Collings, and then that electric guitar once, for one section of a song, and then all piano after that.

I did play electric bass for “Golden Gate” and “Mummy” too.

Do you ever write on bass or play along with records on bass?

I do, and I wrote “Golden Gate” on bass. That line that you hear at the beginning, it started with that.

Do you have any advice for people who want to feel like they don’t have anything to prove, especially if they are working toward a platform in the process?

I feel like the thing that I’ve learned the most from is, even if you don’t fully have your sound yet, make it a mission to just make music you like the sound of. Even if you haven’t fully found yours yet, you will, by way of learning what it is that you love and what you like coming out of your own body and mouth and fingers.

I think the things that have spoken the most to people is going, “I can tell that you love what you’re doing.” And even though in my earlier years, you could definitely see a lot of comparisons, I needed those because those were the things that made me believe in music and what I was doing. And then I think those faded away and now this record is the first time I’ve ever been like, “This is what I’ve always wanted to make. This sounds like me.” It just took a minute, but I enjoyed the whole ride.

I also feel like I was never not myself. Everything that I did, I felt was a risk in some way or stretched me as an artist. … What I loved the most about making this record was that all of it felt in balance. Finally, my voice was the loudest.

That’s just because I finally, like you said, trusted myself, trusted the process. I knew enough to know that even if something isn’t working the first time, there’s always a second, third, or fourth to try. So, trust your curiosity and do whatever it takes to make sure your curiosity is above the fearful, negative self-talk.

Photo Credit: Sean Stout

BGS 5+5: Olivia Barton

Posted on by Justin Hiltner

Artist: Olivia Barton
Hometown: Maitland, Florida
Latest Album: For Myself and For You (released October 10, 2025)
Personal Nicknames (or rejected band names): Liv

What’s your favorite memory from being on stage?

Last year I played my second ever headline show in Philly. Kind of everything was going wrong… The venue was weird, you could hear Mariachi music playing from the kitchen my whole set, the sound guy was (you guessed it) an asshole. But there were about 40 of the most passionate, present, beautiful fans there with me. And during this one song called “Fun” they started singing the lyrics so loud on the second verse and I just lost it. Sometimes I can miss beautiful moments like that, because it’s almost too much to take it in – but this was too good to miss. I started sobbing, like genuinely crying really hard, and they sang the whole verse for me. It was magical.

Which artist has influenced you the most – and how?

Carole King. She and James Taylor were among the handful in constant rotation in my house growing up. There’s a “chicken or the egg” situation here – do I relate to her because she shaped me, or did I gravitate towards her because I already had similar qualities within me? She’s earnest. She’s not trying to sound smart or unique. She’s saying it like it is and saying it with her chest. She’s gritty and sensitive. No fluff. Songwriting over production, always. Sometimes heartbreaking, sometimes fun, most of the time both. I have a lot to learn from her still.

What other art forms – literature, film, dance, painting, etc. – inform your music?

I love abstract art. I’ve never considered myself to have synesthesia, but I do feel colors when I write. There’s this one abstract artist that’s done a lot for my music. Their name is Brit Chida and we’ve become friends. They make abstract art (mostly watercolor) coupled with their writing on trauma, queerness, finding joy – kinda everything. The first song on my record is called “There’s a Part of Me That Was Never Injured,” which is the title of one of Brit’s paintings. The painting and the title inspired me to write a song based off of that idea. Our deep friendship began from me asking their permission to use it.

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

Cook! My very favorite person is Julia Child. I’ve read and watched everything there is to read and watch about her. That’s more about me relating to her whole philosophy on creating than it is about me loving to cook, but I do also love to cook. I love food so much and I also associate my mom with cooking. When I was in high school she would light candles and pour a glass of wine and put on Norah Jones and sauté stuff without knowing what she was doing. So I do that now (without the wine) and if I wasn’t a musician, I think I’d go to cooking school and have dinner parties with my friends.

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

Charli XCX. I mean, not totally a surprise, who doesn’t love her? But I have thought a lot about what it is about her music that I’m so drawn towards since our genres couldn’t be more different. I’ve landed on the fact that her records (particularly Brat) are direct, minimal, brave, candid, bare, and liberating. I would say those are all things I strive to do in my music too. But beyond all that, Charli teaches me how to have fun.

Photo Credit: Blaire Beamer

Ray LaMontagne After 20 Years of Trouble

Posted on by Justin Hiltner

In the fall of 2004, it seemed like everybody was getting into Trouble. Even with that major label debut album, Ray LaMontagne managed to keep a low personal profile while maintaining the rigorous pace of a promising new artist. Meanwhile, the title track of Trouble got covered by that season’s winner of American Idol and ended up in an inescapable but kinda cute insurance commercial. Other cuts on the album ended up in films such as The Devil Wears Prada, Prime, and She’s the Man. In addition, Zac Brown Band recorded “Jolene” and Kelly Clarkson often performed “Shelter” in her shows (and recently revived it for Kellyoke.)

Now, LaMontagne is bringing Trouble back around for a 20th anniversary remaster and re-release (which dropped this summer) and North American and European tour dates set for 2026. He’ll be singing every song on the record to commemorate the collection two decades after its release.

“It’ll be interesting to see how my spirit reacts to learning these songs again, to going back and listening to them again in that way, to bring it to people again,” LaMontagne tells BGS. “I’m looking forward to it. And I feel like it’s important to do to mark this moment, because these are the songs that brought people to my music in the first place.

“Listening to it again now after all these years, I’m very proud of my younger self, for having the strength of will amidst all the pressures of the music business at the time, and about my writing and the way I wrote, to make the record that I did, and to leave the songs the way I wrote them and not take any advice.”

What was your day-to-day life like before Trouble was released?

Ray LaMontagne: Well, we lived off the grid. I was already married for six or seven years at that point. My two boys were five and three and we lived on a piece of land I bought in Maine. I had built a small cabin on it and we had a hand-dug well that we used for water. We had an outhouse. It was back-to-the-land living and that was just because I couldn’t stand renting. I wanted to have my own piece of ground. But it was really hand to mouth, and we were broke. And that’s putting it mildly. I mean, we were broke, broke, broke. I was working carpentry, sometimes seven days a week, because I would take anything I could get on the weekends just to get a little extra money, because I constantly was trying to improve the cabin. And I never had a car that ran.

You’d made some independent records before Trouble and I’ve read a couple of accounts of how you got your music in front of Chrysalis Music. How did that actually happen?

Someone heard me at a festival and they gave a disc to a college friend who was in the music business. Then he brought it to his boss. I went out and met with Hollywood Records first. I felt that I was in a room with a bunch of cynical people who made me feel kind of gross. I went back home and that guy called and said, “I think they’re gonna offer you a record deal.” And I said, “I don’t want to do it.” He said, “Are you crazy? What do you mean, you don’t want to do it? They’re gonna give you a record deal!” And I was like, “I didn’t like them. They made me feel gross.” So I went back to being a carpenter again, as I was, and went back to my life.

Then it was close to a year later when that guy called me again and said he had gone to a different company. Now he was with a publisher and that was Chrysalis. He said, “I played your stuff for my boss and he really likes your songs and is interested in you as a songwriter. Would you come out and meet my boss?” I talked to my wife about it and then I said, “Okay, I’ll come out.” I went out and I met his boss and played a couple songs in the office. We talked about songwriting and he said, “We want to help you as a songwriter.”

So, they were looking at you as a songwriter rather than as an artist.

And that’s how I got into the studio to make this record, because I was supposed to go in and make demos. What happened was, Ethan [Johns, who produced Trouble] and I met each other for the first time. We’re very different people and we couldn’t quite read each other. Especially at that time, I was very much a closed book, very much an observer. And he’s a type A personality, big ego, big presence, loves to talk – mostly about himself. And I don’t say that critically, I say it with humor! Anyone who knows Ethan will agree with me!

So anyway, it was this strange thing, but I began to realize as we were starting to record demos or talk about songs, that they didn’t really feel like these songs were finished. They thought they were promising. But I was getting a lot of input coming at me very quickly about, “This song doesn’t have a bridge. This song is just two verses. Is that even a song? This song just has four verses and then it ends. Is that a song?” And it was like that right down the line.

The first demo we recorded was “Hold You in My Arms.” We got to a point in the song where Ethan stopped me and said, “This song is just not finished. It needs a bridge.” He started throwing lyrics at me for this bridge and my shield started to go up. I thought, “These lyrics, first of all, aren’t right…” I was resisting and resisting, and he was getting more frustrated with me. He said, “I’m gonna go make a cup of tea. You write a bridge.” So, he went to make a cup of tea and I wrote an instrumental bridge by the time he got back. I said, “It’s just gonna go into an instrumental bridge and then back into the chorus again.” And he said, “OK. I’ve always been told you gotta do this in the moment. So how many points do you think that’s worth?”

I knew nothing about the way these things happen, but in that moment I knew what was going on and I knew why I was there. From that moment on, I was a brick wall. Nothing was changing. I was changing nothing. I’m recording the songs exactly as I had written them and then I’m going home. If you like them and you want to shop them around, great. If you don’t like them, I’m still going home. It doesn’t matter to me, but I’m not playing this game. So that’s what we did. We recorded this record, which is basically the demos the way I wrote them.

How did the recordings go from demos into becoming the Trouble album?

Six months easily passed and the publisher called me and said, “You know, the songs are just… no one wants to sing the songs. No other artists are gravitating towards the songs, but weirdly, record labels are coming forward because they like your voice and they like what they’re hearing, but they like it delivered by you. It works when you sing it, but it’s not working for any other artist.” And that led to the next step of going back and meeting record labels and talking to people about me as a performer, which was not even on my radar.

So it was a whole other challenge. It was like me against my biggest fear. I was much more interested in being a songwriter at that time. So, that’s how it happened. Slowly, and one step at a time, and one thing led to another, and led to another. But again, that’s why, when I hear these songs at this point in my life, listening to it again for the first time, it really hits me, just where that 28- or 29-year-old guy had that strength of will to know at a gut level that what I was doing had value. Just me being me had some value and I wanted to protect that. And it just makes me very proud of him.

It’s interesting to hear that no other artists wanted to record your songs, because when this record came out, a lot of people were singing these songs. What’s the personal reward for you as a songwriter when someone does take one of these songs from the album and makes it their own?

I really like that. It always makes me happy. I think any songwriter would be happy if even one song gets covered by someone else. You feel lucky if one song you wrote even makes it into people’s lives in some meaningful way. If you’re a songwriter and that happens to you once, you’re grateful. I mean, it’s just the truth of it. It’s like any other art form. It’s not easy, and it either will work or it won’t work, because music is a complex language. … It’s probably the same with painters, with dancers, with writers. You just don’t know if it’s going to connect to people, or if people are going to understand what you’re saying, or if it’s going to speak to them in a real way, speak to their spirit in some way. So I’m very grateful. I’m so glad that there are people in the world, all over the world, who understand my language.

Something that struck me about this record, then and now, is that dynamic in your voice. At what point did you become aware of that range, that you could go loud when it when you needed to?

I don’t really know. I feel like I learned to sing just by doing it. There’s some truth to this, that I really didn’t know how to sing even when I went in to make the record. But I was learning by doing it. I had gotten to a certain point where I knew when I was singing incorrectly because I would be uncomfortable or something would hurt in my throat. And I knew that that wasn’t the right way to do it. At some point, I realized you had to really breathe and sing from your gut.

In 2004, before streaming and social media, how did you find an audience?

It was just live shows. I mean, I toured a lot. A lot. And in the beginning, even being signed, I was still just like anyone. I was in a rental car, just me and my guitar, a box of harmonicas, and getting myself from one gate to the next. Those early shows, again, it’s no different than anyone. It’s two or three people and the next year you go back and there’s 20 people and the next year you go back, there’s a hundred people. When people connect to what you’re doing, they will tell their friends about it, and they’ll bring them the next time you come around. But there’s nothing anyone can do outside of yourself to make that happen. It either works – people connect to what you’re doing, to your performance, to the music, and then they’ll tell their friends – or it doesn’t work. But being signed to a record label doesn’t mean anything. It just means they’re investing and they’re gambling. And if you build a career for yourself, then they win that bet, and if you don’t, then they move on.

I’ve read that you saw Townes Van Zandt play a show in the mid ‘90s and I wondered how much of an influence did he have on your writing and your musical direction for Trouble?

I don’t think he had a real heavy influence. I wouldn’t say that, especially at that time. It was too early. I just remember being really moved by watching him play, for a few different reasons. It’s kind of tragic in some ways. He was right at the end, but I could hear the poetry in the songs. That’s what moved me the most, to hear a song and be so close to somebody, eight feet away from him, and hear “Pancho and Lefty.” That story was completely immersive and took me somewhere else. That was really the most powerful thing I took from that particular night. He transported me. That’s powerful. Music can be really powerful if you’re receptive.

To me, your song “Narrow Escape” feels like a spiritual brother to “Pancho and Lefty.”

Yeah, I’m sure it is. I mean, it’s my take on a story song of this kind. They’re very different stories, but I’m sure that’s my “Pancho and Lefty.”

There’s a reference to “Liula” in that song and I noticed that fictional town shows up again, now, as the name of your own record company. So, are you fully independent these days?

I am, yeah. I still have all my same team around me, but I’m making records on my own and releasing them on my own. That’s a natural progression, too, in the way the music business has changed. It was a very different business when I entered it and at this point, especially for me, there’s no reason to be with a publisher or a record label at all. I left my publisher a long time ago, 10 years ago probably, and the record label followed.

I did want to ask about the illustration on the cover of Trouble. It’s not a picture of you. It’s this beautiful image from Jason Holley. What was it about that image that worked for you?

I just thought it was poetic. I saw the poetry in it. You can take lots of different things from that image, but it’s also just a powerful image. And of course, I have always been reticent to have my photograph taken, or to use my photos anywhere. Which, you know, we all have these things. If you’re comfortable doing it, that’s great. If you’re not comfortable, you should feel you have the right to say no.

Other than seeing you in concert, I don’t know that I really saw your face that much back then, when Trouble was out.

I remember telling my manager, “I want to be like the Lone Ranger. I don’t need to be seen and to be known. Just leave them with the music. And that’s it.” You can imagine how that went over. It was really, really difficult, and there were a lot of frustrated people, I’m sure, at the record label and with management. It frustrated a lot of people because they felt like I missed a lot of opportunities that I could have otherwise had. I knew that at the time as well.

But I’ve always felt like I know who I am. I could say no to a magazine cover back then because I know that that’s going to be a day out of my life where I’m going to be miserable, and it’s going to make me uncomfortable. … I’ve never felt like anyone in the press or who had a camera really cares about you as a person. They’re not sensitive to you, and your well-being doesn’t matter to them. They’re just doing their job. And whatever they capture there, they choose what they want. If you have your head in your hands, if you’re doing this, if you’re looking miserable. That’s power and they’re going to use it.

So, I turned down all of that stuff. You lose that opportunity, but I felt, well, I’ll lose that opportunity, true, but you know what? I’ve got a show tomorrow night, and I’m going to sing my ass off, and people are going to feel it. And if they feel it, they’ll come back next time. That’s what’s important, to build a career that is sustainable. And to do that, you need people to fill the seats. If they don’t come out to see you live, you have no career. That’s all there is to it. So that’s the most important thing. And that was then, and it still is.

Photo Credit: Brian Stowell

“Ohana Means Family”
to Ohana Music, Too

Posted on by Justin Hiltner

When Ohana Music founder Louis Wu says, “Ohana means family,” it’s not hyperbole; it’s the tenet upon which the company was built.

“On an unspoken level it drives everything, including staff, dealer interactions, customers, and products,” says Chris Wu, who oversees the ukulele company’s operations and product marketing.

The Ohana story, which is also Louis Wu’s story, is an inspiring journey of determination and accomplished goals. Wu grew up in Hong Kong and relocated to the U.S. after high school to study engineering. In 2006, after twenty years in his chosen field, he decided on a career change, primarily to spend more time with his wife and two young children. That priority – family – became and remains the basis of Ohana.

Chris Wu was 10 years old when his father launched Ohana. He spent his teen summers alongside his father “doing a little work here and there.” In 2018, after college and a career in accounting, he says, “Things fell into place where it made sense to come onboard full-time.”

From Louis Wu’s Long Beach, California, garage to a 6000-square-foot warehouse, Ohana’s slow and steady growth has taken them from a small business serving one customer at a time to leaders in their field with both their expansive product line and custom shop.

“I have to give full credit to Louis as the visionary leader of the company since day one,” says Wu. “He knows how a company should and needs to be run. Myself and all the staff are here to support that vision, and that really drives the growth. As a team, we’re improving internally every day, and that has been life-changing. It’s wonderful seeing our employees grow in what they do and in their passion for their jobs.”

Ohana’s international reach stems from the dedication of a surprisingly small workforce. “We’ve never had more than ten people at one time,” says Wu. “It is a small company, but the size helps our operation run smoothly and efficiently.”

Ohana ukuleles are available across a spectrum of styles and price points, from beginner models to pro series. Built overseas, the instruments are individually inspected in Long Beach to ensure flawless playability. “At the core, again, we view our customers as family, and we don’t want family to end up with subpar instruments,” says Wu. “Every instrument is given a full inspection and proper setup before it goes to our worldwide dealers. This does affect our output, our capacity, per day, week, month, or year, but that is the way it should be done. We’ve always been proud to do things that way.

“When you receive your Ohana ukulele, you can rest assured that you can take it out of the box and start playing. At the end of the day, being able to connect people to their instruments and spread the joy of music – it feels like introducing another family member to something we love, something we know they will love, and that will work for them.

“As a disclaimer, I will say that there are manufacturers who offer things that we do not, for example, plastic or carbon fiber instruments. Those materials can take a beating on long journeys or camping trips, if you need an instrument to meet those needs. Those ukuleles have their place, but we stay away from making them.

“We focus on sound, acoustics, wood choice, and the quality of the instrument you’re getting right off the bat. Between our 150 to 200 different models, there’s something for everyone. When you buy an Ohana ukulele, you know there is love behind it. Our team has set it up with you, our family, in mind. We want you to have a good instrument, plain and simple, for the right price and the right value. With our custom shop we’ve expanded that range while still keeping the value, the quality setup. We’re just covering a larger market.”


Ohana Music founder Louis Wu peruses the Ohana showroom.

All Ohana tonewoods are sustainably sourced. Most popular, says Wu, are redwood variations from the Pacific Northwest, which feature prominently in limited-edition models. They also source Hawaiian Acacia Koa, Canadian Engelmann spruce, and mahogany, cedar, and other wood sets from local harvesting companies. “We take our time to go through which sets look and sound the best, but are also in compliance with CITES,” he says. “Anything on that list, we won’t touch.”

Ohana Ukuleles will celebrate their twentieth anniversary in 2026. The lead-up to that milestone began unofficially this year at the 2025 NAMM Show with the introduction of their Custom Shop electric tenor and baritone ukuleles.

“Louis and our master luthier, Brad Kahabka, go all out when it comes to planning and executing things that come from the custom shop,” says Wu. “After building acoustic instruments and getting the shop going, it was a question of ‘What’s next?’ We made simple custom instruments, more elaborate custom instruments, and we even built one with wood from The Tree. We had explored the whole range of acoustic instruments and electric was the natural progression. We were excited to enter the market with electric instruments this year. That’s really been our focus for 2025.”

This month, Ohana debuts their Custom Electric Bass, also built by Brad Kahabka. The new instrument, which the company describes as “a counterpart” to their OBU-22 short-scale acoustic-electric bass, features a solid mahogany body, maple top, custom pickups, cutaway design, and 28-inch scale.


The brand new Ohana Custom Shop Electric Bass, which launched this month.

“We’re super excited to bring the first 28-inch-scale bass to market,” says Wu. “There are short-scale basses out there, but after trying different scales, Brad and Louis wanted something portable that we could make here in the shop. We wanted to come to market with this middle ground that still gives you the proper electric bass sound, but is more affordable and still does a lot.”

NAMM 2026 will mark the official kickoff of Ohana’s 20-year celebration, with other events and activities planned for the coming months. “We’ve been thinking about how we want to expand the family brand, ways we can look at to differentiate ourselves,” says Wu. “We’ve been successful in trying that out with our custom electric instruments, which can be additionally customized with different finishes, tuners, and other features. I think the future is in offering options to buyers and customers. We’re looking forward to exploring that more and offering some exciting things for our 20th anniversary.”

Once a wildly popular, then somewhat more niche, instrument – and, to some generations, an accouterment for tiptoeing through tulips – only to regain and increase its “cool factor” during the 2000s, the ukulele continues riding the crest of its popularity. (What could punch the uke’s “hip card” more than Taylor Swift…?)

“They call this the ‘third resurgence,’ this explosion of attention and rise in the number of ukulele players,” says Wu. “The pattern of history is that, in the last century, there were a couple of other rises and falls in popularity and maybe that’s the natural lifecycle of any instrument.

“What really pushed it along this time was the import side – specifically, affordable instruments made overseas, usually in China, but now also in Vietnam and Indonesia. You can pick up a ukulele for anywhere from under a hundred dollars to a few hundred. Making the instrument accessible that way, people took a new interest in ukuleles and stuck with them. There are also companies with longer histories that kept the torch going, and they, too, are part of this resurgence. Ohana began in 2006 and we’re proud to be a part of it.

“It’s been a community effort to get the instrument back on its feet and it’s staying popular. Music is somewhat recession-proof, at least on the stringed instrument side. Throughout COVID, also, people needed music and the ukulele community was able to provide that.”

Ohana keeps eyes and ears on the changing wants and needs of their growing family of customers. “The stereotype of a ukulele player was someone maybe a little older, or retired, or a person with disposable income and the time to play and collect different instruments,” says Wu. “Now, however, we have a younger demographic that is eager to get out there and explore. They see ukuleles all over TikTok, and that’s something we can’t ignore.

“We see patterns, we get feedback from our dealers and customers, and we also see that people of all ages like the baritone ukuleles, the larger instruments. Or they’re developing tastes for certain features: beveled edges, slotted headstocks, armrests, cutaways, different pickups. The options and combinations are endless.

“All of this plays a factor in our innovation, coming up with new combinations and new instruments that people are after. Going back to the baritone, for example, what used to be a one percent demand for that size instrument is now ten percent or more. That number doesn’t sound large on its own, but it is a significant jump. We keep a pulse on what’s out there, what people like or dislike, and we innovate based on that.”

One of Chris Wu’s personal and professional goals is to further expand upon the relationship between bluegrass and ukuleles. “I’ve learned a lot from our bluegrass players, including local players,” he says. “I don’t have a background in bluegrass, but I’ve learned from watching them play bluegrass on ukuleles how much can be created musically from that and in combination with other instruments as well.

“One of our new team members, who helps us with social media, played in a bluegrass band. Watching them go at it was just amazing, and I would really love to explore more of that. Ohana makes banjoleles, and we tried our hands once at a resonator ukulele. It might be time to bring that back. Who knows? As a company, I think bluegrass is something we could tap into.”

@ohanaukuleles @Bernadette from Bernadette Teaches Music demos the Ohana BK-70-8 Baritone from the More Than Four series! #baritone #baritoneukulele #multistring #morethanfour #ukulele ♬ original sound – ohanaukuleles

Integral to Ohana’s legacy and footprint as they enter their third decade is their philanthropic work and community involvement, including ongoing assistance with music programs following the Los Angeles wildfires of 2025.

“As often as we’re able, we love supporting the ukulele community far and wide,” says Wu. “It’s not such a big world, once you’re in it, and it is closely knit. Brands, manufacturers, artists – everyone knows each other, and it becomes even closer when organizations need our support. We do that whenever we can. It’s one of the crucial foundational things that Louis has always worked for with Ohana.

“A lot of times it’s local – schools and, lately, libraries that have started ukulele programs or clubs. We’ve partnered multiple times with the Los Angeles Public Library System as individual libraries have started programs. We provide support and ukuleles.

“A couple of years ago, after the unfortunate wildfires in Maui, one of our music store dealers on the island contacted us about helping rebuild school music programs. We shipped two large pallets of ukuleles to them. We’ve also partnered with Four Strings At A Time, a ukulele nonprofit in Hawaii, to help their local schools. On the continental U.S. side, there’s Ukulele Kids Club, which provides music therapy to children and also instruments to children in hospitals.

“As small as the ukulele community can feel sometimes, especially compared to the guitar community, there are still endless ways that people need support. It’s a blessing and an honor to be able to provide that to them.”

As Ohana moves into the fourth quarter of 2025, prepares for holiday sales, looks ahead to NAMM 2026, and plans its upcoming anniversary, Wu reflects on the year-to-date as “interesting, especially with the tariffs. Everyone has responded a little bit differently, but everyone has also been hanging in there, as much as I can speak for our music stores, our retailers, and the players,” he says.

“We’re looking forward to next year for new things, exciting things. It’s been interesting, but we’ve been getting through it and that’s all we can ask for.”


Ohana Vintage Line, 39 Series.

All images courtesy of Ohana Music. Lead image: Ohana O’Nina and Pineapple models lounge on the beach. 

You Gotta Hear This: New Music From Brit Taylor, Benson, and More

Posted on by Justin Hiltner

We’re back with another excellent edition of our weekly roundup of new music, fresh videos, and sneak previews of tracks to yet to come.

Bluegrass power couple Benson – Wayne Benson and Kristin Scott Benson – call on Zack Arnold of Rhonda Vincent & the Rage for their new single, “Bully of the Town,” which drops today. You may recognize the track, which is usually performed as an instrumental, but its unique chord progression shines with Arnold’s vocal as the somewhat unexpected cherry on top. Also in a bluegrass space – bluegrass saxophone, of course – Eddie Barbash continues his mini-series with us of classic bluegrass and old-time fiddle tunes rendered superlatively, as only he could, on sax. This time, we’re sharing his new performance video of “Tennessee Mountain Fox Chase,” shot at Larkspur Conservation in Westmoreland, Tennessee. We can’t get enough solo saxophone fiddle tunes!

From the bottom of the globe, progressive New Zealand string band You, Me, Everybody returns to the pages of BGS with a new music video. “The Rest of Us” is a contemplative, introspective song set to sparkling newgrass that’s about leadership, abandonment, and rising above – if you can. From country, our friend Brit Taylor also debuts a new music video this week for “All For Sale,” her most recent single that released just last month. The new video, which only features a short cameo by Taylor, a new momma, is a fun-fueled yard sale spurred by heartbreak and readiness for a blank, clean slate.

To round out our collection this week, legendary blues master Robert Finley is celebrating a brand new album via Easy Eye Sound today, so of course we’re highlighting a track from Hallelujah! Don’t Let the Devil Fool Ya to mark the special day. “Can’t Take My Joy” is an infectious song with a perennial message that Finley holds at the core of his values system – you really can’t steal his joy. And, with music like this in our weekly roundup, you won’t be taking our joy, either!

It’s all right here on BGS and, just like every week before this one, You Gotta Hear This.

Eddie Barbash, “Tennessee Mountain Fox Chase”

Artist: Eddie Barbash
Hometown: Nashville, Tennessee
Song: “Tennessee Mountain Fox Chase”
Album: Larkspur
Release Date: November 28, 2025 (The album will be released one song at a time with the last track coming out Nov. 28.)

In Their Words: “This song was recorded during a spring sun shower on the porch swing at Larkspur Conservation’s cabin headquarters. A barn swallow was nesting in the rafters just over my head and I was inspired by all of the bird songs around me to improvise this introduction.

“I learned the tune late one night from Ric Robertson after a party/concert in his Washington Heights apartment in NYC. I believe he learned it from Nate Leath and my version is also inspired by his recording. I decided to slow it down a bit and give it a lazier, swingier feel that just feels so good to play on the saxophone.” – Eddie Barbash

Video Credits: Shot and edited by Jeremy Stanley. 

(Editor’s Note: Watch the first video in our mini-series with Eddie Barbash here.)

Benson, “Bully of the Town”

Artist: Benson
Hometown: Boiling Springs, South Carolina
Song: “Bully of the Town”
Release Date: October 10, 2025
Label: Mountain Home Music Company

In Their Words: “I’ve always loved to play this song and didn’t even know it had lyrics for years. The chord progression is just different enough to make it work either way.” – Wayne Benson

“‘Bully of the Town’ is a good example of a song that wasn’t originally a part of the bluegrass genre, but is versatile enough that you can play it many different ways and it sounds like it belonged there all along. Wayne and I are pickers first and this arrangement is really built around being able to play around this fun chord progression, but the vocals are the icing on the cake, because prior to this cut, people typically played it as an instrumental. A lot of people don’t even know it has words, so adding vocals differentiates it and we got a young gun to sing it! Zack Arnold, from Rhonda Vincent & the Rage, did such a great job. He delivers it with a lot of energy, power, and a spirit that accompanies youthful musicianship. He really added excitement to an already-grooving track.” – Kristin Scott Benson

Track Credits:
Wayne Benson – Mandolin
Kristin Scott Benson – Banjo
Cody Kilby – Acoustic guitar
Kevin McKinnon – Bass
Zack Arnold – Lead Vocal

Robert Finley, “Can’t Take My Joy”

Artist: Robert Finley
Hometown: Bernice, Louisiana
Song: “Can’t Take My Joy”
Album: Hallelujah! Don’t Let the Devil Fool Ya
Release Date: October 10, 2025
Label: Easy Eye Sound

In Their Words: “There’s an old saying that I used to hear folks say, ‘There’s joy in the world, can’t take it away.’ Joy is something that can’t be measured by man and can’t be controlled by man. That’s why I say, ‘You can’t take my joy.’ You can take everything else, but you can’t take that. You can take my freedom and I can still be happy. Though there are problems, there is still a way to look beyond the faults and accept the good things in life. Joy is something that no man has the power to give and no man has the power to take away.” – Robert Finley

Brit Taylor, “All For Sale”

Artist: Brit Taylor
Hometown: Hindman, Kentucky
Song: “All For Sale”
Release Date: September 5, 2025 (song); October 9, 2025 (video)
Label: RidgeTone Records/Thirty Tigers

In Their Words: “We wrote this song like a script. There’s so much imagery in the song that it just seemed natural for the video to follow the lyrics. I decided only to make a quick cameo in the video and let my friends be the stars of the show! While it seems counterintuitive to what the rest of the industry is currently doing, it felt right to me. After all, the song isn’t about me, it’s about a story that wants to be told. And, honestly, my friends should probably move to Hollywood, because they really nailed their parts!” – Brit Taylor

Video Credits:
Robert Chavers – Producer, director, cinematographer
Steve Voss – Director
Solar Cabin – Production company

You, Me, Everybody, “The Rest Of Us”

Artist: You, Me, Everybody
Hometown: Ngāruawāhia, New Zealand
Song: “The Rest of Us”
Release Date: October 10, 2025
Label: Southern Sky Records

In Their Words: “I woke up with the melody and the lyric in the chorus, ‘If you’re the one who’s going to give up, what are the rest of us doing here tonight?’ And as much as the melody kept hooking me in, it took a while to find an angle for a song that could only really be about leadership. Even though it’s from the perspective of the people who are left when a leader abandons them, I was writing this with an awareness of how I felt I was letting people down at a time when I wasn’t following through on a commitment I had made. That’s why it’s less about blame and more about the heartbreak of watching someone lose faith in something they’d once worked so hard for.” – Kim Bonnington

Video Credits: Produced and edited by Kim Bonnington. Filmed by Ethan Bryant.

Photo Credit: Brit Taylor by Sammy Hearn; Benson by Sandlin Gaither.

Country Songs for Fall

Posted on by Shelby Williamson

Fall marks the beginning of “over the river and through the woods season,” whether your destination is grandma’s house, an off-season beach, a u-pick apple orchard or pumpkin patch, a spangled and harlequin forest, or an autumn music and arts festival. As you navigate the changing season and enjoy leaf-peeping, apple butter, hot cocoa, and hot dogs roasted over the fire, there’s one genre certain to accompany you through each and every picturesque context the “-ber” months give us – that’s Good Country.

Country is perfect for fall, whether you’re raising a beer, whiskey, or cider alone or among friends. From driving through tobacco country during curing season in September, to tailgating at the football stadium, to winding your way over the Smoky Mountains, to soaking in the last bit of summer sun, there’s a country song ready to soundtrack your falling back in love with cozy season.

Dripping with nostalgia, evocative text painting, a rich and deep connection to nature, and a reverence for community, folkways, and tradition, country music just may be synonymous with fall – and our playlist certainly helps make that case. We hope you enjoy listening and we wanna know: what country songs always get you in an autumnal mood? Did they make the list?

Photo Credit: Album cover,  New Harvest… First Gathering, Dolly Parton.

BGS 5+5: We Met In June

Posted on by Justin Hiltner

Artist: We Met In June
Hometown: Currently living in Sogndal, Norway
Latest Album: Going Home (released September 19, 2025)

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

I remember my dad and I driving through Minnesota when I was about eight years old. He had bought Fleetwood Mac’s collection CD so we’d have something to listen to and we played it over and over again. I became completely obsessed and that’s when I found a deep interest in music. I knew I wanted to do what Stevie Nicks and Christine McVie were doing. – Sara

I think I was around seven when I saw the music video for “The Final Countdown” by Europe and I thought the guitar solo by John Norum was the coolest thing ever. I remember thinking, “I want to do that someday!” I’ve also always looked up to my dad, who’s a great guitar player. He was the one who introduced me to acoustic music and bluegrass, which has been the greatest gift. – Gjest

Genre is dead (long live genre!), but how would you describe the genres and styles your music inhabits?

We’d say it’s a blend of singer-songwriter, folk, Americana, and pop. Some journalists in Norway have called our music “Nordicana,” which is basically a Nordic take on Americana. We’re inspired by a lot of ’70s music like Fleetwood Mac, Jackson Browne, Crosby, Stills & Nash, and we also love Kacey Musgraves and the whole Nashville country-pop scene.

On top of that, we listen to a lot of acoustic music like Alison Krauss & Union Station, Gillian Welch, Nickel Creek, Molly Tuttle, etc. Our acoustic guitar playing is very influenced by those bands and the sound on our new record is a dreamy mixture of acoustic guitars, sometimes mandolin and banjo, plus drums, bass, keyboards, and synths. – Gjest

Which elements of nature do you spend the most time with and how do they impact your work?

Living on the west coast of Norway surrounded by mountains and fjords has given us a strong bond with nature – it’s part of our everyday life. I start every morning with a walk to clear my head and get some fresh air. It always seems to lift my mood a bit. – Sara

And then there’s the weather – we get a lot of cold, rainy days here, which makes it easier and more natural to stay inside and play music, write, and practice. We’ve been to Nashville, for example, and it’s hard to understand how people get anything done in that heat! – Gjest

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

I’d probably be a veterinarian. It used to be my dream before We Met In June. In Norway it’s really difficult to get into veterinary school and I’ve actually applied every year since high school just to see if I’d get in. This summer, for the first time, I was accepted – and I have to admit, it hurt a little bit to turn down the spot. [Laughs] – Sara

I honestly have no idea. As a kid, I thought excavators were the coolest thing, but I probably wouldn’t be good at anything else. I’m just glad I get to do music. – Gjest

What’s one question you wish interviewers would stop asking you?

We appreciate all questions, but there’s one that always comes up: “What’s it like being a couple and working so closely together?”

We get why people are curious, but for us it feels completely natural to spend so much time together. And, honestly, if you’re going to work that closely with someone, why not do it with your favorite person in the world? Of course it’s not without challenges, like any partnership, but most of the time it’s an advantage. That said, we could definitely be better at taking breaks – it’s music 24/7! – Sara

Photo Credit: David Zadig

Jack Schneider’s
Songs of Hope and Healing

Posted on by Justin Hiltner

Six years ago, I found myself in the hospital for a period of a few weeks with a mystery illness, unsure of whether or not I would make it out alive. I did survive, of course; but the experience changed me fundamentally. It brought me closer to many of my heroes, both living and dead, who have walked before me, people who know a whole lot more about life and its passing than I do. As near-death experiences do for many, it led me to live differently, cherishing each present moment and honoring life’s transitory nature rather than fearing it. Retrospectively, it was a gift, because it helped me to realize that I have been fortunate to have been given a free life and my hope is to use my experience of healing to help others heal too.

My new album, Streets Of September, marks my reflection upon the anniversary of that life-altering event. It is a collection of songs that, to me, honor the beauty of being alive and the magic of alchemizing grief into something beautiful, created out of thin air in the moment we have before us. It is an ode to brevity and the wonder that can be found there: to be appreciated for a moment before being washed away.

As I have navigated the path of healing myself, these songs have served as anchors during some of the darkest of times. They are beacons of light I’ve looked to when I was uncertain of how to shift my consciousness from a place of grief to one of hope. We are all growing and healing one day at a time, and everyone else’s reality is as real to them as our own is to us. Wherever this music may find you, my hope is that there may be something here to give you the courage to press on, to continue on your journey, whatever it may be. – Jack Schneider

“Looking For Space” – John Denver

I first discovered this song when I was in middle school. That was a dark time for me. I felt different and yearned for a place to belong, wondering if it was something that even existed. This song helped me to look inward, to find peace in the home within my heart. As I continue to grow up I keep coming back to it. It reminds me to stay true to that journey, to open myself up to the space of my soul. It’s not about arriving at that place. Ultimately, it is about the continuous practice of aiming for something that we know we will never reach within our consciousness, but that the growing is what makes us who we are, stronger and more resilient, committed to the path as it disappears, which is how we can tell that it is the right one.

“Secret Of Life” – James Taylor

My parents took me to see James Taylor perform a solo acoustic show when I was nine years old. He played this song and the idea of the “secret of life” stuck out to me. At that age I barely knew what living meant. I’m still not sure I do. But coming back to that song now, having survived a near-death experience, it has more depth than I ever could have understood before. Our task in being truly present and grounded is through the power of the now and “enjoying the passing of time.” No matter how dark or difficult the road gets, nothing is forever, and if we can remember to shift our awareness and accept the unfolding of things in the time that they are meant to unfold, we can surrender to the joy of living and experience the full extent of our aliveness.

“Sweet Seasons” – Carole King

When I was growing up, my mom had an art studio in our house that she used to paint in. Every now and then I’d get to go hang out with her in there and we’d listen to music together. My mom put this song on a lot back in those days and hearing it reminds me of those special memories, of being encouraged to connect deeply with my creative energy. “Sometimes you win, sometimes you lose/ And most times you choose between the two…”

The older I get, the more I realize that we really do get to choose how we show up to the present. The hope is to be able to embrace the passing seasons as they come and go and find the beauty in watching life flow.

“I Got A Name” – Jim Croce

Jim Croce was one of my first musical heroes. I can’t remember how I found my way to his music, but his songs sound as if they always existed. I especially love this one, largely because of the last line of the chorus, “Moving ahead so life won’t pass me by.” Healing is not a linear journey and the dark times are necessary to help build and reveal our character. Time continues to pass and it is in the forward motion that we find ourselves connected to the magic of life, continuing to be reborn every time we open our eyes.

“That Lucky Old Sun” – Big Mama Thornton

A favorite song of mine and my favorite version of it. Perfect in every way.

“Shine A Light” – Rolling Stones

This was my grandmother’s favorite song. At her request, we played it at her funeral. She used to quote the lyric all the time, “May every song be your favorite tune.”

“If You Want To Sing Out, Sing Out” – Cat Stevens

My dad first showed me this song, and I’ve always loved the simplicity of its message.

“Go Wherever You Wanna Go” – Patty Griffin

I remember listening to this song leaving home, on my way to college. I cried so hard. The possibilities of the future were endless. And with that came the necessity to accept the changes happening around me and within me and the loss of the grounding presence of my family and the home I knew. I was bound to chase my dreams with tremendous uncertainty, hunger, and hope.

“One Of These Days” – Emmylou Harris

I love the line in the chorus of this song “ I won’t have this urge to go all bottled up inside.” Writing and singing songs is my outlet for processing my emotions, but I often struggle to create the space to bring them to light in my day to day life. Growing is recognizing where or who you hope to someday be, and then each day waking up and striving towards that dream, one moment at a time.

“Good Again” – Sunshine Grocery

“For us, there is only the trying. The rest is not our business” – T.S. Eliot.

“Bells Of Harlem” – Dave Rawlings Machine

A song of hope and redemption, capturing the essence of the kind of clarity that comes through after a season of darkness. The sun rises again. “A little joy, at long last.”

“Pilgrim” – Steve Earle

I was fortunate to have been at the Grand Ole Opry a couple weeks ago when Steve Earle was inducted. After becoming a member, he chose to play this song. Emmylou Harris, Vince Gill, Don Schlitz, and Connie Smith sang it with him. It was such a special moment, and I am grateful to have witnessed that kind of history. We don’t know where our journeys will lead us, but the path is homeward.

Photo Credit: Annie Loughead

You Gotta Hear This: New Music From Eddie Barbash, Caitlin Canty, and More

Posted on by Justin Hiltner

You know what Friday means! New music, new songs, new videos – and of course, You Gotta Hear This.

Let’s begin with some Good Country from Idaho’s own Colby Acuff. His new album, Enjoy the Ride, is out today and we’re enjoying the ride ourselves with a lyric video for the title track from his excellent collection of country that’s both traditional and forward-looking born from beyond the continental divide. Singer-songwriter Kashena Sampson brings us a song from her brand new album, Ghost Of Me, that we find at the intersection of vibey Americana and contemplative indie. “Thick As Thieves” is a daydream in a song about teenage years, friendship, and holding onto – if you can – the ineffable magic of youth.

One of our longtime friends, Caitlin Canty, released her new album, Night Owl Envies the Mourning Dove, yesterday. Based in Vermont, the singer-songwriter crafts music that rests comfortably between folk, bluegrass, string band, and Americana sounds. To celebrate her new album, she’s shared a special live performance video of “Don’t Worry About Nothing,” inspired by parenthood, our frenetic day-to-day, and giving up control – and worry – whenever we can. Speaking of string band music, Damn Tall Buildings, a Brooklyn-based group playing on the fringes of bluegrass, old-time, and swing, have a brand new video for “Turkish Airlines,” a funny and all-too-relatable track they describe as portraying the haze of travel dreams, the desire to be seen, and late-night self-reflection.

And don’t miss your essential dose of bluegrass saxophone, as one of the foremost purveyors of the form, Eddie Barbash, begins a BGS mini-series sharing videos of solo performances of traditional fiddle tunes on sax. To begin, check out his rendition of “Forked Deer,” which Barbash picked up from Sierra Hull while touring with Cory Wong. If you aren’t familiar with Barbash, you may be surprised how perfect fiddle tunes can feel on saxophone. If you are already familiar, you’ll love getting to hear him offer his takes on these classic melodies. More sax-fiddle tunes are coming soon.

There’s a little something for everyone in this week’s roundup, as usual. We hope you enjoy, because You Gotta Hear This!

Colby Acuff, “Enjoy The Ride”

Artist: Colby Acuff
Hometown: Coeur d’Alene, Idaho
Song: “Enjoy The Ride”
Album: Enjoy The Ride
Release Date: October 3, 2025

In Their Words: “The title track of this project does not pull any punches. This song sets up the world where this story takes place. Like most of my songs, it takes place in the real world. In the plains of Oklahoma, the mountains of Idaho, or the heat of the desert. This record is for real people. People that we talked to on the streets and truly got a look into who they are. This song is meant to represent the people of this country for what it is. I hope people love this one as much as I do.” – Colby Acuff

Eddie Barbash, “Forked Deer”

Artist: Eddie Barbash
Hometown: Nashville, Tennessee
Song: “Forked Deer”
Album: Larkspur
Release Date: November 28, 2025 (The album will be released one song at a time with the last track coming out Nov. 28.)

In Their Words: “This performance was recorded in a dry streambed at the Larkspur Conservation natural burial ground in northern Tennessee. I learned ‘Forked Deer’ from Sierra Hull while we were on tour with Cory Wong. The harmonic lift in the B part is what makes the tune for me. Modulating to the 5 is a tried-and-true move at least as old as the Baroque. In my playing I tried to capture what I love most about bluegrass – the fast and hard-driving, yet still light and bouncy, groove and the thrilling rhythmic and melodic variations. To achieve the bluegrass backbeat, I made generous use of one of my favorite bowing techniques that I learned from Alex Hargreaves called the ‘Georgia shuffle bow.'” – Eddie Barbash

Video Credits: Shot and edited by Jeremy Stanley.

Caitlin Canty, “Don’t Worry About Nothing”

Artist: Caitlin Canty
Hometown: Danby, Vermont
Song: “Don’t Worry About Nothing”
Album: Night Owl Envies the Mourning Dove
Release Date: October 2, 2025

In Their Words: “I started writing this song to my son when his Magna-Tiles castle came crashing down in a spectacular heap. It felt like what was happening at that time to my view of the wider world. This song helps me wind down from worrying about what doesn’t matter so much and focus my powers on fighting for what does matter. It’s written from my own unshakeable mom’s point of view – I love how she sees the world and walks through it with a smile, even on the darkest days. I’m so looking forward to touring Night Owl Envies the Mourning Dove and playing this song each night with my full band! ” – Caitlin Canty

Video Credits: Filmed and edited by Brian Carroll. Mixed by Dave Sinko.

Damn Tall Buildings, “Turkish Airlines”

Artist: Damn Tall Buildings
Hometown: Brooklyn, New York
Song: “Turkish Airlines”
Album: The Universe Is Hungry
Release Date: October 8, 2025 (single); October 24, 2025 (album)

In Their Words: “We are honored to share this single from our fourth upcoming studio LP with BGS! ‘Turkish Airlines’ explores the sensation of being loved, but not being sure which version of you someone is loving. We’re always evolving and changing as humans, and this song floats through the uncertainty that can be triggered by that truth. We had a blast crafting this track to portray the haze of travel dreams, the desire to be seen through the complexity, and late-night self-reflection. Through creative experimentation in the recording and production of the track, we were able to bring a bit of studio magic to this song that we hope will become a DTB classic. Hit us up on the socials to let us know what you think!. Thanks for listening, see y’all on the road.” – Damn Tall Buildings

Kashena Sampson, “Thick As Thieves”

Artist: Kashena Sampson
Hometown: Nashville, Tennessee
Song: “Thick As Thieves”
Album: Ghost Of Me
Release Date: October 3, 2025

In Their Words: “I wrote this song for my best friend, Sulayla. It’s a daydream about our teenage years growing up in Las Vegas. It’s about those carefree days when the world felt full of endless possibilities. The song came to me after a conversation we had, realizing that adulthood isn’t quite what we imagined and wishing we could go back to those golden moments. Driving through the desert in my old Ford Explorer, listening to the Beatles and feeling like anything was possible.” – Kashena Sampson

Track Credits:
Kashena Sampson – Vocals, songwriter
Jolana Sampson – Songwriter
B.L. Reed – Guitar
Tom Myers – Drums
Jon Estes – Bass

Photo Credit: Eddie Barbash by Jeremy Stanley; Caitlin Canty by Brian Carroll.