Tag: Americana

Out Now: Melissa Carper

Posted on by Justin Hiltner

Melissa Carper’s new album, Borned In Ya, was released today. The album travels through stories and experiences that explore journeys of self-actualization. The songs gather many proficient and accomplished musicians – Dennis Crouch, Chris Scruggs, Jeff Taylor, Billy Contreras, Rory Hoffman, Sierra Ferrell, and more – to create a collection of sounds that are carefully shaped into a captivating work of art.

Carper stitches innovation with tradition, creating something that is new and exciting while also feeling familiar and warm. Her storytelling and authentic style shine, making her music both personal and relatable. In this interview, we dive into her new album, why she creates music, and her release and touring plans for the next year. We’re so excited to highlight this incredible artist and her new album, Borned In Ya.

What excites you most about this new album?

Melissa Carper: This is my favorite album I have made so far; the material is fresh and demonstrates an evolution in my writing and singing. I feel more confident and relaxed and many of these songs allow me to “croon.” I am excited for people to hear it and to see how they respond and how they like it. I can’t wait to take these new songs out on the road and play them for people.

How do you cultivate a balance between traditional and innovative sounds?

The traditional is easy for me, because I’ve mostly listened to older music, so those are my influences. I don’t “try” to be innovative, but I feel like having a really good grasp on roots music these days is almost innovative, in a sense. A lot of people have lost touch with that music. My goal is to bring the roots back, but perhaps with some new lyrical ideas, a unique and personal expression of pain and growth (that I hope is relatable), and combining styles that I love together. Together with the producers and musicians that I have been working with on my albums, I think we’ve taken innovative approaches to the songs as well as maintained traditional feels and sounds.

What was your experience collaborating with such an incredible team of highly skilled and accomplished musicians?

I feel so lucky to get to work with everyone you mentioned. They bring my songs to life in a way I could have never imagined. Chris [Scruggs] plays straight or console steel, rather than pedal. The straight steel is the older instrument and is perfect for most of the songs I write. Chris also played guitar, rhythm and lead, on my albums. Rory Hoffman played guitar on about half of the songs on Borned In Ya. They both did such an incredible job. I’m really in awe of all of these musicians.

Dennis Crouch is the best I’ve heard on upright bass and as an upright player, I listen to his bass parts and try to learn them. In the process of doing that I realize what a genius he is. Jeff Taylor, on piano, often sets the tone of a song and always has brilliant ideas. Billy Contreras blows my mind (and everyone else’s) with the fiddle parts and layers he comes up with. On “Lucky Five,” he really outdid himself on the fiddle solo section. Also, I had Doug Corcoran on horns for this album. He played trumpet and saxophone on five songs. Having horns on my songs is new for me, and I think that sets this album apart from the previous ones.

Rebecca Patek wrote an absolutely gorgeous string arrangement for my song, “There’ll Be Another One.” It is my favorite part of the album, when the strings come in on this song. Jenn Miori Hodges, an old bandmate of mine from The Carper Family, sings stellar harmony on several songs. It felt great to have her on this album, we have such a long history of playing together and she plays with me now quite a bit, whenever she is available. And Sierra Ferrell sings an amazing harmony on my cover of a jazz tune from the ’30s called “That’s My Desire.” Sierra actually recorded that harmony back when we were recording the Ramblin’ Soul album. I had too many songs to fit on that album, so I saved it for Borned In Ya. It is really a dream to work with all these folks and I hope I get to continue to do so. I feel like I lucked into a good thing, a formula that really works for me.

The title track, “Borned in Ya,” focuses on being shaped by life experiences. What are your thoughts on how nature (genes) versus nurture (environment) shape musical ability?

I believe, in most cases, it’s probably a lot of hard work and obsession with something you love that makes someone good at something. I definitely have musical genes in my family, but I had the advantage of my parents having me sing and play from an early age. I had a great bass teacher in junior high and high school and got to study music in college with great teachers, then I kept on learning from each band I was in. I was obsessed with old-time music – country, blues, jazz. I listened in an obsessive way until it became a part of me. I feel my learning process has been a steady, slow one, but the great thing is, I continue to grow.

This album is a compilation of stories and experiences written in song. What was it like to craft one collective album that travels through desire, love, heartbreak, life on the road, and growth?

I had a lot of fun writing the songs on this album. Three of them are co-writes with Brennen Leigh, and we always have a good time writing together. I think I’m having more fun than ever with writing and I hope people can feel that in the songs. I love having a combination of heartbreak and also some fresh romance in this album. Not everything is autobiographical of course, and I’m getting better with that – writing from imagination, pulling from some old experiences and emotions to make it real, or imagining someone else’s situation.

I would call a couple of these songs “spirituals” that go a little deeper with life philosophy. It feels good to write about something besides romantic love and to speak of spiritual growth. Hopefully people who listen find the album inspiring. I feel like Borned In Ya is an expression of some of my past and some of the present, but with a wiser and more experienced soul – more has been “borned in me.”

What’s your ideal vision for your future?

I’d love to have a great balance between performing/touring and getting to spend time at home and in nature. To me, that would be the ultimate, to feel like I’m successful enough financially so that touring doesn’t turn into a grind. I don’t mind touring, but when I’m away from home too much it makes me feel disconnected from life in general, being exhausted, not getting enough alone time to be still and to be in nature. I am in a phase currently where I need to take the opportunities offered to me, even if at times it feels like I have too much on my plate. I’d also love more time to focus on creating a nonprofit to help those who are experiencing homelessness and struggling with mental illness. I dream of creating a center with a working organic farm, providing homes and a healing atmosphere.

Why do you create music?

I get melodic and lyrical ideas in my head and they just start developing, it’s one of the most fun and rewarding things that I do in my life. Once I know I’m onto something good, I’m quite obsessive about finishing it – usually within the day if the flow is there. If it is a song that I am forcing a little, or maybe the song has something good and promising in it but isn’t ready to be fully realized yet, I’m pretty good at coming back to it, sometimes even a few years later, and finishing it when the time is right. The process is the most fun, but I also love getting to present the song to an audience. It’s rewarding in a completely different way. Being able to record the song with great musicians and producers to see what it can sound like in its ultimate form, is an especially rewarding part of the process.

What is your greatest fear?

Even the idea of holding onto fear is fearful; my goal is to keep growing and confronting any fears I have that keep me from being the best possible version of myself. I guess that would be my biggest fear, that I allow myself to be too distracted to actually work on myself and confront any fears that I have.

Why do you think LGBTQ+ representation and community are important – in roots music and beyond?

When I came out, there were very few ‘out’ people in our culture. Seeing k.d. lang and Ellen DeGeneres coming out for me was just an affirmation that there were lesbians that existed in the world besides myself. It was really helpful for me to move to a community where it was normal and acceptable, which was the small and diverse town of Eureka Springs, Arkansas. If you are feeling uncomfortable with yourself, being in a community of folks that are accepting of who you are is a great thing. What I loved about Eureka Springs is that there were a couple of gay bars, but the gay people just hung out in all the bars and it didn’t feel like an isolated thing. It just felt normal and accepted to be part of the LGBTQ+ community there for the most part – except for maybe at the Walmart. [Laughs]

What are your release and touring plans for the next year?

Borned In Ya is out July 19th, 2024! I am doing a whole lot of touring around it – Montana, Colorado, Wyoming, Oregon, Washington, then venturing into Missouri, Arkansas, Illinois, Minnesota, Michigan, Wisconsin, Kentucky, and lots of Texas before making my way to Nashville for AmericanaFest. And, I just got back from performing in Europe! It’s a busy year, birthing Borned In Ya!

Photo Credit: Aisha Golliher

Kayla Jane on Only Vans with Bri Bagwell

Posted on by Shelby Williamson

(Editor’s Note: Only Vans with Bri Bagwell is the latest addition to the BGS Podcast Network! Read more about the podcast coming on board here. Find our episode archive here.)

Kayla Jane is unapologetically herself, as evidenced in her new track, “Queen of Bad Decisions.” Before the episode taping, she texted Bri that nothing is off limits; this raw, unfiltered conversation is personal, honest, and fun! The pair get into topics such as being a female singer and how that can affect relationships when it’s not the right partner.

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Thanks to our sponsors for this episode, The MusicFest at Steamboat, Lakeside Tax & CH Lonestar Promo!

The Many Folk Art Threads of Jake Xerxes Fussell’s ‘When I’m Called’

Posted on by Justin Hiltner

Two weeks before the release of his new folk album, When I’m Called (available today via Fat Possum), Jake Xerxes Fussell’s sister, Coulter, who is a quilter, had a show of her work in Oxford, Mississippi. In this show, Coulter patchworked 24 small quilts with fabric sourced from her friends and fellow quilters. There was one quilt for every hour of the day.

Though Fussell has said that he and his sister do not talk about her work very much, there are some profound resonances between her quilts and his music – the idea of updating tradition by the use of unusual materials and freer forms, for example, or the idea of using old material to make new texts, but also something deeper. The songs and the quilts mark time, but not in conventional ways. Instead, they track time in a looping, stuttering fashion. Time is both abstracted and made concrete, as a quilt can appear like midnight and a song can be both a work song and a travel song; but also how a quilt or a song can be a mark of a 19th century technique using 21st century material.

The sources for these records and quilts are a network of people. They include those as close as their parents or close family friends, but also as wide as academic song catchers from the 1950s and 1960s, the folk revival of the same era, the careful annotaters of 1990s web forums, or 2020s Instagram accounts. In the time I spent talking to Fussell, he was careful to note these networks, where and who he learned from, the songs he picked up, but also the methods.

These methods were not only adapted from family and friends, but also professional contacts and music legends who pursue a similar ambition to extend what “folk” means. They include Blake Mills, who has been a session musician for everyone from Bob Dylan to the Avett Brothers; or Robin Holcomb, the avant garde vocalist and multi-instrumentalist whose estranging 1992 album, Rockabye, provides a conduit from artists like Bill Frissell and John Fahey to contemporaries like Blake Mills or Daniel Bachman.

For Fussell, the creation of a drawing, painting, quilting, or song-making can come from the same geographical site, the same kinship network, or the same historical records. His parents were academics who painted, sang, wrote, and quilted, but he also had friends like Art Rosenbaum, who painted, gathered songs, taught them in and outside of the University of Georgia, and won the 2008 Historical Recordings Grammy.

Rosenbaum died in 2022 and the songs on this album are in his memory, absorbing captured Scottish songs from the 1970s. The track “Feeling Day” is both bright and mournful, moving in the body of Rosenbaum from Georgia to Scotland and back, where it was taught to Fussell and then captured here. The intermingling of technology, memory, curiosity, professional competence, and ancestor work all made contemporary by skill and memory. (Like the quilts.)

Fussell talks about reclaiming and re-interpreting these songs, versions of versions, updated for contemporary listeners. The album includes the work of Rosenbaum, but it can also be seen on the very first track, about the Mexican painter Maestro Garry Gaxiola, whose decades-long (and most likely one-sided) feud with Andy Warhol centered on questions of what populist art is and what folk art is.

It can also be seen in how Fussell sings “When I’m Called,” a song partially composed from a found paper scrap (again, the quilting) containing a child’s to-do list. It reminds me of the folk anthologist Harry Smith, who spent a long time cataloging paper airplanes he found on the street. It can especially be seen on Fussell’s version of “Gone to Hilo.”

Depending on who you ask, the song’s original title is either “Johnny’s Gone to Hilo” or “Tommy’s Gone to Hilo.” For most versions, those who sing “Tommy” think that the song is about Ilo, Peru and those who sing “Johnny” think it is about Hilo, Hawaii. Fussell sings “Johnny.”

The song is not really a sea shanty, because they require a stronger beat to function as a work song; but it was intended as a song for sailors, a kind of lament, and the gap between forms here has deepened as it has moved further from the sea. The work quality dropped, and the lament quality ratcheted up. It has been sung by dozens of people, one of those tracks that criss-crosses the Atlantic with the folk – Peggy Seeger sang it when she was in England with Ewan McColl, for example.

Perhaps the saddest version of the song is by Paul Clayton. I think maybe three people in the world care about Paul Clayton, and Fussell is one of them. Clayton grew up in New Bedford, Massachusetts, and collected songs about that town’s whaling history since before he was 20. He went to UVA and studied under the legendary song collector Arthur Kyle Davis, traipsing through Appalchia finding songs and then moving to the East Village, integrating himself with Van Ronk and especially Dylan. Fussell claims that his version of “Hilo” is directly in the tradition of Clayton – that how he weaves a song is how Fussell weaves a song.

Between 1954 and his too early death in 1967, Clayton made almost a dozen records of revolutionary war songs, sea shanties, timber shanties, songs of marital discord, songs which Dylan ripped off, and songs which are only remembered by enthusiasts. Fussell is an enthusiast, his version is the lament that Clayton created from the work song and the interweaving of the lament and the work song – the doubling down on the historical memory, the absorbing of a technique renewed in the knowledge of history – is key to the whole enterprise.

Listen to how Clayton emphasizes certain words – for example, “bully boy” – but also listen to how it’s just Clayton; a clarion voice, and a melancholy one. Listening to Fussell’s, with Robyn Holcolmb singing harmony, the sadness is still there, but the tradition is too. The tightness of the version traps tradition, that it is in the middle of the album, that it’s a single, marks a network of relation, an aesthetic about public choices, and a wrestling with tradition.

Folk music asks again and again, “Why are we making these choices?” and, “Whose choices are we making?” Fussell, at his best, makes choices that are smart, open, generous, and mark a time and place – be it Georgia or Hilo or Oxford, Mississippi or a room where Clayton and he can have a conversation with all those 19th century sailors.

Thinking again of Coulter’s quilts, they both mark time in an abstract sense – the idea of what noon or midnight looks like – but they also mark the time it takes to create a work. There is this idea that time is linear, that it marches forward relentlessly. The quilts mark the history of their creation, the actual moments that Coulter made them, but they also weave together the stories of those who gave her their scraps, the interlacing of decades of commercial and domestic enterprises intended to make an object which shows its sources/seams.

Everytime someone sings a traditional song, this kind of citational practice renews the song, the text, the material. Like a quilt, when Jake sings, time bends and loops, inviting other people’s time, other people’s lives. In a worst-case world, this could be greedy, or wolfish, consuming without respect; in Jake’s work, a much better world, this is a kind of kinship network, sharing and consuming mutually.

Photo Credit: Kate Medley

You Gotta Hear This: New Music From Josh Shilling, Talia Rose, and More

Posted on by Justin Hiltner

After a quiet holiday week last week for new music releases, we’re back with quite a few excellent song and video premieres on this fine Friday. Fiddler-songwriter Chris Murphy brings us the title track for his new EP, The Red Road, and folk legends Cathy Fink & Marcy Marxer team up with Chinese hammered dulcimer player Chao Tian for another single from their From China to Appalachia project.

Don’t miss a new video and radio single from Wilson Banjo Co. called “Memphis Anymore,” plus, indie-folk singer-songwriter Talia Rose brings us a video for a surprisingly holiday-inspired track, “In August.” To round us out, multi-instrumentalist and hit bluegrass songwriter Josh Shilling performs “Main Street” by Bob Seger for a new Bob Seger bluegrass tribute album, Silver Bullet Bluegrass, that you’re sure to love. And, you’ll want to catch our latest DelFest Session with East Nash Grass, which we premiered on the site earlier this week.

It’s another collection of incredible premieres on BGS – and You Gotta Hear This!

Chris Murphy, “The Red Road”

Artist: Chris Murphy
Hometown: Los Angeles, California
Song: “The Red Road”
Album: The Red Road
Release Date: July 5, 2024
Label: Teahouse Records

In Their Words: “I went to Hawaii for the month of January 2024, ostensibly on vacation. I discovered there was a recording studio next door to where I was staying, so I spent twelve of my vacation days in a 14′ x 16′ room with no windows making a new EP. ‘The Red Road’ is a song about the joy and magic of life, a red-headed girl, and the great riddle of what it means to be yourself, in the best of times & the worst of times. I send this out to all of us still brave enough to keep searching for the light on ‘The Red Road.'” – Chris Murphy

From China to Appalachia, “Three Rules of Discipline and Eight Points for Attention”

Artist: Cathy Fink & Marcy Marxer with Chao Tian
Hometown: Silver Spring, Maryland
Song: “Three Rules of Discipline and Eight Points for Attention”
Album: From China to Appalcahia
Release Date: July 9, 2024 (single)
Label: Community Music

In Their Words: “‘Three Rules of Discipline and Eight Points of Attention’ comes from both Chinese traditions and Pete Seeger. Chao grew up with this melody, but brought it to the trio when she heard a Pete Seeger and Arlo Guthrie recording from 1975 performing this song and getting the whole audience whistling along. We did many concerts with Pete and needless to say, he was an early practitioner of Cultural Diplomacy, plus a banjo hero, friend, and mentor. Our live audiences were recorded in Piedmont, Virginia during three concerts with schools and community members. We hope you’ll sing along, too.” – Cathy Fink

Read our interview feature on From China to Appalachia here.

Talia Rose, “In August”

Artist: Talia Rose
Hometown: Boston, Massachusetts
Song: “In August”
Album: Carry it Closely
Release Date: July 16, 2024 (single); August 20, 2024 (album)

In Their Words: “This song was written on request – I was doing a string of holiday shows with Naomi Westwater, who asked if I had any winter-y songs to add to the setlist. I didn’t, but I got to work, and came up with a song called ‘In August’ – oops. I ate up the challenge of trying to find rhymes for all those months; I love syntax challenges like that. As I started performing the song, I added that breakdown section in the middle, originally to play by myself during solo gigs to give my voice a break. Arranging that part with a rhythm section was fantastic, Chris and Gen picked it up right away. The version on the record’s got some really funky organ sounds from Jack Broza, who co-produced the album, and luxurious stacks of harmonies from Heather Scott. Bringing other people into the development of a song is such a gift.” – Talia Rose

Track Credits:
Talia Rose – Lyrics, composition, arrangement, guitar, voice
Heather Scott – Guitar, voice
Chris Sartori – Bass
Gen Yoshimura – Drums

Video Credits:
Micah Nicol – video
Dan Cardinal – audio, mixing

Josh Shilling, “Main Street”

Artist: Josh Shilling
Hometown: Martinsville, Virginia
Song: “Main Street”
Album: Silver Bullet Bluegrass 
Release Date: July 12, 2024
Label: Lonesome Day Records

In Their Words: “I’ve toured with bluegrass bands like Mountain Heart for years and recorded with Del McCoury, Rhonda Vincent, Tony Rice, and everyone between, but I cut my teeth on Bob Seger and similar artists. I’ve always covered classic rock songs live and I’m sure that’s why Randall [Deaton] thought of me.

“I mainly remember listening to my vocal repeatedly and worrying that it wasn’t good enough. Seger’s original performance is ridiculously good with so much character, tone, soul, and cool phrasing. I was terrified of not doing the song justice somehow. I hope he’d be proud of how this one ended up!

“Bob Seger is one of the artists that my parents love. I grew up with his albums. Silver Bullet Band, Live Bullet, Beautiful Loser, Greatest Hits, and so on… I had all his records and I knew all of the songs vocally and on piano and guitar. I could have sung every song on this project without a lyric sheet! I sang Bob’s songs in every honky-tonk between Martinsville, VA and Nashville growing up. His voice doesn’t even sound human to me at times. There’s a magical soulful growl that he pulls from that only he can. You would have definitely heard the music of Paul Rogers, Ray Charles, Gregg Allman, Bob Seger, as well as Tony Rice, Blue Highway, and many others blasting from my bedroom growing up. Bob is definitely a major influence of mine.

“This song is such a classic. Everyone recognizes the song within the first two seconds of it coming on. That beautiful guitar melody right out of the gate, the storyline, and that magical scene change when the chord progression goes to the bridge. It’s a masterpiece that’s as good today as the day it came out. I could sing any song by Bob Seger. I love them all including the deep cuts. That said, I must have performed ‘Main Street’ a thousand times in clubs growing up, so that song was an obvious choice. I’m pretty sure I was the first person to record a vocal for this project, and this song was where we quickly landed.” – Josh Shilling

Track Credits:
Shawn Brock and Gary Nichols – Guitar
Shawn Brock – Mandolin
Mike Bub – Bass
Megan Lynch Chowning – Fiddle
Wayne Bridge – Dobro

Producer: Randall Deaton
Engineers: Randall Deaton and Jimmy Nutt
Tracking Studios: Lonesome Day Recording Studio, Booneville, KY and The NuttHouse Recording Studio, Muscle Shoals, AL
Mixing Studio: The NuttHouse Recording Studio, Muscle Shoals, AL

Wilson Banjo Co., “Memphis Anymore”

Artist: Wilson Banjo Co.
Hometown: Westminster, South Carolina
Song: “Memphis Anymore”
Album: Memory Lane
Release Date: July 12, 2024 (radio single); March 22, 2024 (album)
Label: Pinecastle Records

In Their Words: “We are very excited to release ‘Memphis Anymore’ as a single to radio and had so much fun making this video. This is easily one of our favorites on the record and the writers, Jessica Lynne Witty and Karli Chayne have our deepest gratitude for such a great song. There’s a lightness and joy in this otherwise ‘breakup’ song, it’s just a fun listen and just as enjoyable to play with the band.” – Steve Wilson

Video Credit: Bonfire Recording Studio

DelFest Sessions: East Nash Grass

Our DelFest Sessions continue this week with East Nash Grass, as we relive the iconic Memorial Day weekend festival and return to the banks of the Potomac River for another stellar live performance. In the shade on the river’s banks, BGS contributors and videographers I Know We Should captured a high-quality handful of sessions with artists and bands from the DelFest lineup.

This time, we’re featuring an multiple IBMA Award-nominated band known for their long-running East Nashville residencies and their critically-acclaimed 2023 album, Last Chance to Win – from which they pulled their first selection, “Papa’s on the Housetop.” It’s a slinky and bluesy track that demonstrates just a few of the many styles synthesized and metamorphosed into bluegrass by these cracking players.

Watch the entire DelFest Session and read more here.

Photo Credit: Cathy Fink, Marcy Marxer, and Chao Tian by Jeff Fasano; Josh Shilling by Thomas Crabtree.

Folk Singer Sam Lee Instills Hope and Inspires Action With ‘Songdreaming’

Posted on by Justin Hiltner

Sam Lee’s musical career grew out of his environmental activism, from the Mercury-winning album, Old Wow, to his ongoing conservation project Singing with Nightingales. The British folk star’s fourth album, songdreaming, released earlier this year, is his most creative venture yet. It’s a manifesto for reconnection with nature constructed from luscious, haunting reinterpretation of the songs of the UK’s Traveller communities.

Its title comes from the summer retreats Lee leads that bring people together to connect to their land and ancestry through song: “Singing to the land happens across the world in Indigenous communities that still have their relationship to nature very much intact,” says Lee. “It’s ceremony, it’s devotional work, it’s prayer.”

We spoke to Lee about songdreaming, how he sources material, queerness, connection to nature, and much more.

Sam, your music is usually based on traditional folk song, but these songs go far further from the source material than you’ve ever taken them before.

I had done a little bit of original writing on Old Wow, but this is an album where almost everything is written by me, some to the point where there’s no semblance of the primary folk song left. And that was a big risk, because I’m quite shy when it comes to thinking of myself as a songwriter. It’s not like I’m a seasoned Johnny Flynn or Anaïs Mitchell. It’s not my training, and I’m a very reluctant writer, because I failed English at school. I’ve always had a great sense of inadequacy.

What prompted you to step out of your comfort zone?

It actually came about in an unusual way – the songs were originally commissioned for a movie, The Unlikely Pilgrimage of Harold Fry. It was an adaptation of a much-loved book about a man who walks the entire length of the UK, a portrait of our connection to the land and the healing power of passage-making. I was already a great fan of its director, Hettie Macdonald – her first movie, Beautiful Thing, was seminal for me when it came out in 1996 – so I was really excited to be involved.

We arranged and wrote lots of songs to capture the mood of the film and some were used, but there were all these, dare I say, leftovers? Being the resourceful, waste-not-want-not type, I said, “Well, these all have something in them that is powerful.”

What was your writing process?

I don’t have one particular method, but the way I work is a bit like the way I interact with nature. I’m a forager for sonic and lyrical opportunity, seeing relationships within words in the way that I see relationships within the ecosystem. You start to find what Simon Armitage, Britain’s beloved poet laureate, will call the “neon” moments, things that suddenly shine.

Can you give an example?

Absolutely. “McCrimmon,” the third song on the album, is a ballad I learned from my late mentor Stanley Robertson, who was a Scottish Traveller. There’s a lyric in the original which is, “no more, no more,” but I heard it as “in awe, in awe.” Suddenly a whole song about the state of awe appeared.

There’s another track which is a love song between a fair maid and a plowboy – I recalibrated and reframed it, so it’s a more complicated relationship between species that are in a state of separation. The folk songs say everything already. I’m like someone taking a Shakespeare play, resetting it, maybe adapting some of the language, like West Side Story from Romeo and Juliet.

Which of the songs came easiest?

“Green Mossy Banks,” which is actually about pilgrimage, was so easy to write. It was like, “Oh my god, I’ve been wanting to write this song forever.” And they didn’t even use it in the film!

What is it in that song that you had been longing to express?

The story of the film paints this wonderful portrait of free passage – there’s never a moment where it deals with trespass or permissions or this idea of private land. No barbed wire fences, or angry landowners going, “What do you think you’re doing here?” One could walk from Devon to the borders of Scotland and never have any issue.

But there is no person in England who goes on a country walk and isn’t affected by our punitive, archaic, and utterly unequal private ownership laws. That’s why I was a founder member of the Right to Roam movement. For all its avoidance of politics, “Green Mossy Banks” is a deeply political song. Social and ecological injustice is at the roots of so much of our international crisis.

Is the UK not quite a good place to walk compared to, say the US? The English have ancient rights of way that allow them to walk across private land, whereas try it in the US and you might get shot…

Absolutely. But where does the US get their notion of land rights from? They were inherited as an enhanced version of British law at a time when, in England, if you were caught poaching a hare or something, that’s it, you had your hands cut off, or you were hanged, or sent to Australia.

On the music video for “Green Mossy Banks” we see you surrounded by various mesmerising English landscapes.

It’s a combination of many of the pilgrimages that I’ve made with Chris Park, a druid, and Charlotte Pulver, an apothecary. At cardinal points of the year – the solstices, the equinoxes – we lead communal pilgrimages to places like Stonehenge, or the South Downs.

Are there any songs on the album that were inspired by specific places?

“Meeting is a Pleasant Place” is very much about the Dartmoor landscape, down to the very tor that we filmed the video on. The exact location shall remain nameless, because it’s one of the few tors that exist in a forest, as opposed to Dartmoor’s sheep-wrecked landscape of denuded grassland. It’s deep in beech and oak forests, which makes it especially stunning.

And the song itself came out of a Devon Gypsy folk tune.

Yes, and it contains this rather mystical language that had become something of a mantra to me. “Meeting is a Pleasant Place/ Between my love and I/ I’ll go down to Yonder’s Valley, it’s there I’ll sit and sing…” It’s bad English, but at the same time so powerful in its ambiguity. It could be a love song between two people, but in that Gypsy corruption of the words, suddenly it speaks about something so much bigger. So then I wrote my three verses as a love song to the land.

The appearance of the Trans Voices choir on the chorus turns it into something epic and anthemic…

It’s English folk gospel, as I call it. ILĀ, who runs Trans Voices, is an old friend and when the choir was set up I said I’ve got loads of songs that I’d like to speak to the queerness of land. Folk song often tends towards the heteronormative, and I want to break that down.

In the liner notes you also talk about the queerness of nature, what do you mean by that?

When you look at relationships within the natural world, sexual or otherwise, what you see is massive diversity in roles and identities. In the fungi world, for instance, there are hundreds and hundreds of genders, working collaboratively in community. Humans, too, need to start to recalibrate the way we behave in nature. So much of our subjugation and exploitation of nature has come through a male-dominated worldview and it’s not working.

One of the species you have a great connection with is the nightingale – as well as singing with them in secret woodland gigs every year, you recently wrote a book about their threatened extinction.

Yes, and when I’m with them, for seven weeks each spring, I get this sense of what is it like to be in a relationship that’s falling apart. That heartbreak, saying farewell, and knowing that it has a time limit to it. That’s what inspired the opening track, “Bushes and Briars.” It was the first folk song Ralph Vaughan Williams ever collected, and it’s a lament of a man and a woman who are separating. As somebody who spends a lot of time in bushes and briars trying to keep a relationship with a bird going extinct happening, that’s a space that is very familiar to me.

Coming from a background of singing acoustically, outdoors, how do you work up the big, dense sounds that populate your albums?

I do my writing with James Keay, who plays piano in the band. We both want a richness of sound, so that what are often very repetitive lines and melodies can take the listener on journeys through different emotional states. It’s about trying to paint as big a painting as possible.

As well as strings and horns and pipes, you’ve added a more pan-global feel with a Syrian Qanun, and a Swedish Nykelharpa.

We wanted to create textures that gave a sense of both the ancient and the unusual. I’d never used a Qanun in an arrangement before, though I have used dulcimers before on almost every album, which are part of the same family.

Maya Youssef, Britain’s best-known Qanun player, features on the one folk song that you haven’t changed, “Black Dog and Sheep Crook,” about a shepherd being thrown over by his lover because he’s “just” a shepherd.

I’ve kept its truth and entirety – it just felt so wonderful bringing the tragedy and the melancholy of the Qanun into that song.

So often in this album you’re grieving our detachment from and devaluing of the natural world. But the spirit and purpose of the music, as you describe it, is also to re-establish those connections. What are your current priorities for climate activism?

At the moment, there’s a big campaign to get young people voting, and voting for nature, in the UK. Hope for me is always about having a plan. And there are many brilliant plans out there. It’s about overcoming apathy and resistance and reawakening people to what we have to lose.

I can’t speak to what I think the outcomes will be, I think that’s a dangerous thing to do. But I hope that the album has as many opportunities to instill hope and beauty as there are moments of doom and tragedy.

Photo courtesy of the artist.

Alisa Amador’s New Album Contains ‘Multitudes’

Posted on by Justin Hiltner

After getting a preview of Alisa Amador’s new album, Multitudes, I was excited to catch up with her and hear more about it. The production and strings on songs like “Nudo de raíces” and “Extraño” reminded me of the work of Brazilian artist Tim Bernades, someone I have recently been addicted to. When I brought that up in our interview, Alisa got very excited and showed me a playlist she had made on which Bernardes was the first featured artist – as it happens, she is also a huge fan!

Thus, our conversation started off with a bang of enthusiasm for Bernardes’ Mil Cosas Invisíveis – while it turns out Amador’s Multitudes string parts had been recorded before she ever heard the Bernardes record – and we continued by talking about her life as the child of touring musicians, her guitar inspirations, and how she interacts with songwriting as a bilingual musician.

Multitudes is full of wide, spacious arrangements with lyrics that shoot straight to the point: “I love my life/ But I hate it sometimes,” she sings on “Love Hate Song.” On “Milonga Accidental” she sings, “Cuando miro el agua / Cuando miro el cielo / Cuando miro el agua otra vez…” Roughly translated, this means: “When I look at the water / When I look at the sky / When I look at the water, once again.”

Through our chat, I learned the reasoning behind these direct and simple lyrics – and how her reasoning differs depending on the language she’s working in. Amador is an artist that has found a rare confidence in the way she makes music. I couldn’t help but feel inspired by her calm demeanor and rooted presence. I soon learned that she had been on a long journey to reaching that place for herself.

I want to ask you about your time growing up playing with your parents, who are folk musicians in the band Sol y Canto – what did you take from those experiences and what did you want to do differently?

Alisa Amador: My parents are Latin folk musicians who are touring to this day. They are amazing, and I would not be the musician I am without that primary education. It’s interesting to think about what I’d want to do different, I am always wondering that without being conscious of it I think.

The big thing is just trying to take care of myself better. I think the culture of the music industry is that of completely running yourself into the ground and then some. It seems that being an artist and being a human are often at odds with each other…

I just witnessed my family work so hard, and not have a lot of breaks or self care or healing factored in, we were always [in] survival mode and worrying about money constantly. Although, at the time, that part didn’t traumatize me at all, I don’t know why.

As a kid we just had such a rich life; traveling everywhere, seeing live music, being around people who really care. Getting to experience that much art from such a young age, while really taking touring life in stride, it was a fantastic way to grow up. But I do look back and realize how exhausted and how stressed my parents were and I don’t want that for myself.

So is this something that you realized more recently? Given that as a kid you didn’t feel affected by it?

I think there was a moment – because what my bio says about winning NPR Tiny Desk contest, that just at the moment I was going to give up, that is really true. I was going through the logistics of leaving music, it was terrifying and really painful, but I was at a point in my career that I had done everything for everyone else and had no idea how to advocate for myself. It had ruined me; I was playing gigs where I didn’t feel safe and not being paid wages that were sustainable. … Consequently, I felt like a life in music was not feasible for me.

When I got that call that day from NPR, I almost told them to call someone else. Eventually I decided to say yes, but I had to treat that “yes” as a total reset, a complete reimagining, almost a starting over, and this time I had to take care of myself.

With this reset, did the actual music you were making change at all, or was it only your intentions with how it would be made?

I had been in a period of writers block for two years and I didn’t come out of that for another year after winning the Tiny Desk Contest. I felt like an imposter, I was like, “Little do these people know that I don’t write songs anymore…” But I chose to relearn how to write songs and to try to meet myself where I was, instead of trying to making something perfect or good.

I just had to remember, how did I start writing? I was 15 and struggling, I didn’t know how to coexist with painful things, and I started writing because it helped me get through it. I didn’t write because it needed to be good or I needed to sell it. At that time, I had all these other creative practices, [like] journaling and dancing around my room, and I had let go of all of them during that period, and I felt like I couldn’t make anything. I wasn’t ready to process what I had been through.

When I did starting writing again, it had to come from this place of childlike curiosity and wonder and I had to tell myself every time I wrote, “It will probably be bad.” And letting it be bad is what allowed me to write anything at all.

As a bilingual writer, you have access to another tool – choice of language – that many of us don’t have. How and why do you approach your songs in one language or the other, and how does it color them?

I heard Allison Russell talk about this in an interview. I’m paraphrasing, but I think she said something like, “Writing in different languages is like accessing different channels of the unconscious …” and similarly, I feel like I don’t make a conscious choice about what language I write in, but it could come from a different place.

I have noticed that writing in English, it tends to be more conversational. I just tell what I’m feeling, literally, and try to trust that the feelings will reach people, as long I’m being honest.

When I’m writing in Spanish, even though it’s my native language, I’ve always lived in the U.S., so I just have a limited vocabulary. There was a period of time where I was only speaking Spanish at home, it was the strict language at home, so I think it’s my childlike language, but it gets used in new and poetic ways. Whatever words can capture that feeling are the ones that I’m gonna stick to, because I don’t have that many to choose from! I don’t have trick phrases or literary devices, and maybe I have a little less judgement in Spanish as well. Limitation is really a gift in that way.

That’s really interesting! So with that in mind, how do you feel about language translation with songs? Is it helpful or harmful to the meaning?

I actually love translating and when the first album review came out from No Depression about Multitudes, the headline was “…Alisa Amador is Found in Translation.” I was so happy about that. Because really, my best language is Spanglish, switching in between is where I’m most comfortable, and that in-between-ness is where I’m always existing.

In my parent’s band, they would often give a translation of the song for an English speaking audience; my dad would play the progression of the song and my mom would stand there dramatically, looking fabulous, telling the lyrics in a beautiful way, always within the frame of the chord progression.

So I really enjoy giving a translation before singing the songs now as well, and so many people have come up to tell me they love it. The translation being in time with the song makes it possible for them to even follow along while I sing it in Spanish.

There’s something so metaphorically perfect about that, because when you’re living in between you feel like you’re always missing something, but there’s something gained from that, too, because it makes it possible to give grace when someone isn’t understanding, or bring them in when they aren’t feeling heard. And that is what I’m able to do when I give a translation.

Can you tell me about your guitar style? It’s really beautiful. Who or what influences the way you play? And how did you learn?

I started because I idolized my dad. He is a classical guitarist and he’s trained in flamenco. As a kid I studied flamenco dance, too, so I used to dance while he would play. He gave me one of his old foot stools and I played nylon-string guitar for a long time, that was my first instrument. I just studied folk songs like “Monster Mash” and “Blackbird” and “American Pie.” My dad was super technical, but I didn’t study with him, and I knew I wanted to become a better guitarist.

Then in college, I saw a musician just playing solo electric guitar and singing and I had no idea an electric could sound like that. I love electric – but nylon-string acoustic will always be the origin of my playing, so I approach the electric guitar that way. Resonance is really important to me and noticing how chords feel. A lot of my writing is just simple chords and adding and taking away notes. I’m very much still learning guitar, I’m in this stage of guitar learning where I get lost in self doubt, so I practice whatever I play live so much in order to feel confident performing.

I’m sure there’s a lot of Spanish language folk music that folks in the “Americana” scene are really missing out on, myself included. What are some other artists that sing in Spanish or in other languages, that you think folks should know about?

One of my big inspirations for the overall sonic work of Multitudes was the album Domus by Sílvia Pérez Cruz. I listened to it obsessively seven years ago without realizing it was the soundtrack of a film, Circa de Tu Casa, which is about the real housing crisis in Spain. [Pérez Cruz also stars in this film.]

Something I thought Cruz did so well on this record is that she is so feelings-oriented. What she feels is what dictates how she sings the song, which is a philosophy that I share. But she also has this riveting voice, so it’s all about telling a story. The production on the record completely holds what she’s singing, but it is also musically and technically beautiful. You want to have a record you can turn to again and again and notice new things to love.

Is there anything else you want readers to know before we end?

I guess I’d like to give a gentle reminder to human listeners, to the people listening and reading, that you really matter to independent artists. Every listener is the life force behind our careers. When someone comes to a show, and then comes back with a friend or presses play on a record they’ve not heard before, those things are what make my job possible, so thank you to the individuals of the world who press play and pay attention!

Photo Credit: Sasha Pedro

MIXTAPE: Blackwater Railroad’s Music From the Last Frontier

Posted on by Justin Hiltner

Alaska is an incredible melting pot for artists. Despite our sparse population, we are filled with wonderful creative types and a bustling music scene. Lots of our music and tradition stems from bluegrass and string music, the roots of which can be seen in so many of our incredible acts. As a band, we seek to celebrate our state and our scene, both of which are thriving and yet largely ignored by the lower 48. – Blackwater Railroad

“Heirlooms” – Josh Fortenbery

Josh’s new album is so immediately captivating. His voice is incredible, the instrumentation divine, and his songwriting is top notch. You can lose yourself instantly in the images he paints in your mind. He’s also part of Muskeg Collective, a Juneau-Based supergroup of folk musicians.

“Call Me a Fool” – Erin Heist

Erin is also part of the Muskeg Collective and another great example of the high standard that Juneau musicians bring to the world. Her smooth voice and raw lyrics speak directly to our hearts. Be sure to listen for the wonderful mandolin work by her husband, Andrew Heist, on this track. Power couple much??

“Sundays” – Wiley Post

We’ve had the pleasure of sharing the stage with these folks a few times now. They have an eclectic indie vibe that is so characteristic of our scene. Enjoy soaring fiddle lines, tasteful piano, and angelic vocals on this one!

“Brand New Love” – Black Barrel & The Bad Men

One of the more recent additions to our Alaskan scene, BB&TBM have hit the ground running. Their debut EP is gold and their live performances are top-notch. They ooze passion in their vocal arrangements and instrumentation. Their songs get stuck in my head constantly. I would not doubt big things to be coming to these (really good) Bad Men.

“Sink or Swim” – Zen Trembles

Becky Kotter has one of the most unique approaches to guitar and music that I’ve ever seen. She uses multiple capos and open tunings, playing entirely by ear to create her special brand of folk. Her voice is so nuanced and creative and every song you hear is creative and fresh!

“The Cuckoo” – Annie Bartholomew

Annie B is an undeniable talent. Her songwriting and lyrics resonate so strongly for us, and her aesthetic in general is delightful. Every time I’ve had the pleasure to see her perform live was an enchanting experience. The world needs more Annies!

“Orbiting Things” – Fireweed Fiddle

Ok, ok, yes, Fireweed Fiddle does happen to be our very own fiddle player, Rachel DeTemple. When she’s not sitting in with us all across Alaska, she’s writing brilliant music of her own. Rachel’s new album showcases her wonderful skills as both a singer and a player, all while being wrapped in a perfect folky bow.

“Traveler’s Waltz” – Hope Social Club

This is one of the most iconic acts we have in our state. They have a rich history of incredible music and live performances. Enjoy their entire catalog, and if you’re lucky enough to see one of the few shows they play a year, you’re in for a treat!

“Pray for John” – Roland Roberts

Roland is such a good storyteller. Even without guitar in hand you can listen to him wax poetic about anything. This is a slower tune, brilliant in all respects, but be sure to check out his other tunes for some more upbeat and rocking pieces as well. Roland also helped write one of the tunes on our new album, “Road to Make Believe”!

“Not Over You” – Evan Phillips

This tune has a wonderful vibe. I got to enjoy this one for the first time on a long trip back home in the band van. The dreamlike production paired with nature’s majesty on the highway made for one of the most delightful moments I’ve had in a long time. For a moment, I forgot I was stuck crammed in a van with five other stinky dudes for eight hours. I mean, that’s gotta count for something, right?

“Lucky Tennessee” – Bethlehem Shalom

This is such a cool track by such a creative artist. I think within a few seconds her iconic flavor will pour out of your speakers. A great example of the creative sounds and experiences you can get out of living in our wild state.

“Rock and Roll Man” – Blackwater Railroad

Hey, it’s us! This is the most rock-oriented song on our new album. It also might be the one that was the most exciting to make. The build up at the end features Taylor Vidic on vocals. We turned out the lights in the studio and just asked her to ad-lib based on how the track felt to her. She delivered 1000% and made for what might be the most iconic moment on the album.

“Lonely House” – Steve Brown and the Bailers

This is an awesome tune on the road. Alaska is huge and spread out so we spend a lot of time on the highway. Tunes like this keep the wheels turning and the spirits high. This song gets more and more creative as it evolves, so be sure to keep listening to see what happens. Spoiler: it’s sick.

Photo Credit: David Juarez

Basic Folk: Chris Smither & Peter Mulvey

Posted on by Shelby Williamson

Chris Smither has been Peter Mulvey’s mentor since back in 1993, when a young Mulvey opened for the already seasoned Smither. The blues and folk legend liked what he heard and enjoyed their similarities in creativity and quirks; he took that young man on the road with him. Their musical partnership has survived the digital age, the pandemic, parenthood, and the indictment of a former president. Along the way each has worked to influence their best habits and life lessons on the other. As far as mentor-mentee relationships go, this one is for the history books.

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In this rare joint interview on Basic Folk, we address the important questions: Why do they delight in calling each other by their last names? Smither shares that he was first called by his last name in Paris when he was in school. The two debate who has the better hometown, Milwaukee or New Orleans. Actually, it’s not so much a debate as a reflection on New Orleans music, since that is clearly the better spot to grow up as a musician.

Mulvey reflects on their musical differences, citing some of his main inspirations to be Kendrick Lamar and Ani DiFranco, versus Smither’s affinity for Joni Mitchell and Bob Dylan. There are nods to David “Goody” Goodrich, Jeffrey Foucault, Kris Delmhorst and the woman behind it all, Carol Young (AKA Smither’s long-time manager, AKA his wife). We break down how each feels about fatherhood and try to get Smither to spill his secret to longevity. Spoiler alert: It’s not from remaining still.

Smither’s 20th album, All About the Bones, is out now. Peter Mulvey’s latest is the acoustic retrospective, More Notes From Elsewhere.

Photo Credit: Chris Smither by Jo Chattman; Peter Mulvey by Paul Reitano.

BGS 5+5: JEMS

Posted on by Justin Hiltner

Artist: JEMS
Hometown: Los Angeles, California
Latest Album: Back Around
Personal nicknames (or rejected band names): Wild Valley Dream Weavers, lots of others!

Which artist has influenced you the most – and how?

I grew up with Joni Mitchell. For every season of life, her music feels like the soundtrack. I find myself returning to songs and finding new meanings as my scope continues to broaden and deepen. Her voice is unapologetically her own and I am so inspired by her journey. – Emily

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

When my dad played me the song “Eleanor Rigby” I had a major lightbulb moment. I don’t think I had realized how powerful music as storytelling was until then. I must’ve been 8 or 9 and my imagination burst wide open. – Jess

Probably when I started playing the songs I was writing as a kid for my Dad. He was both kind and critical in ways that confirmed that I wanted to work on and share my songs with not just him, but everyone. – Sarah Margaret

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

We each have distinct vocal timbres and have been influenced by the genres we grew up listening to, from jazz and soul to indie rock to classical and film scores to folk and Americana. That diversity adds a richness to our blend and has influenced how we approach melody, harmony, and storytelling. As a trio, we live in the folk world, but lean into many other lanes depending on the instrumentation and production of each song.

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

I’d be a hairdresser. I cut and color hair for fun/therapy and I truly love it. Although I don’t know if I’d love it as much if I had to do it…  – Jess

I’d be a private chef. I love going to farmer’s markets, learning from local farmers and artisans, and expressing myself through food. Maybe it’s the French in me! – Emily

A marine biologist, or boat captain, or something that lets me be in and around the ocean all the time. – Sarah Margaret

If you were a color, what shade would you be – and why?

Gold! I’d don’t know why, but I’ve just always felt like the sunshine. – Jess

Olive green. I’d like to be as warm, relaxing, and grounded as that color! – Sarah Margaret

Photo Credit: Jayden Becker

AJ Lee & Blue Summit’s ‘City of Glass’ is Funny, Sexy, and Empowered

Posted on by Justin Hiltner

At 26, the prodigy phase of AJ Lee’s music career has passed. It might take a little more time for the tendency to confuse her with a professional wrestler using the same name to fade away.

“I think I could take her!” Lee — the singing one — gamely pronounces at the conclusion of an interview on the third album by AJ Lee & Blue Summit, City of Glass (out July 19 on Signature Sounds), prompting laughter from the band’s Scott Gates, who asserts himself on the new album writing three songs on which he sings lead.

Rounding out Santa Cruz, California-based Blue Summit are fiddler Jan Purat and guitarist Sullivan Tuttle, one of the children of educator-musician Jack Tuttle and brother of breakout star Molly Tuttle. Lee also got her start with “The Tuttles with AJ Lee.”

A keen sense of humor dots City of Glass, which was produced by Lech Wierzynski of “retro-soul” band The California Honeydrops. It was Wierzynski who suggested Harlan Howard’s “He Called Me Baby,” on which Lee delivers a notably sultry lead vocal. The reference point for her version of “He Called Me Baby” is soul singer Candi Stanton, rather than Patsy Cline or Charlie Rich.

“I was raised to sing pretty straightforward. I wanted to remove as much ego as I could, because I just wanted to sing and have fun,” Lee said. “I’ve learned to put a little bit more of my personality into it and that, I think, is making me a better singer overall, which is why we wanted to work with Lech in the first place, because he’s such a powerful singer.

“That really resonated with me and I’m trying to move more in that direction.”

Gates pipes up at this point: “AJ’s not going to say this, but Lech brought ‘He Called Me Baby’ to the table because he had the foresight, coming from that soul world, he recognizes in AJ’s voice the ability to do this kind of thing.

“The cross-pollination of these American roots, is a smart move from Lech, I think,” he said.

BGS caught up with Lee and Gates as they rehearsed in Nashville, Tennessee, and prepared to do some lip synching for a video. As a seasoned bandleader, Lee takes pains to spread the credit for her success around and steers some questions toward Gates to try and ensure she doesn’t dominate the conversation.

City of Glass is AJ Lee & Blue Summit’s third album. How do you view the progression that got you to this point?

AJ Lee: The first album, [Like I Used To], we were looking for what kind of sound we wanted as a band. Because at that time, it was only four members without a fiddle player. So on that one, we had some more electric instruments and more drums. The second album, [I’ll Come Back], we went more acoustic roots, because we just wanted to play more bluegrass, because that’s what we grew up on and that’s what we do best. For this third album, we’re confident doing bluegrass, roots, and country, sticking with more stringed instruments, but also branching out. With Lech’s involvement, we’re leaning a little bit towards soul, R&B, and keeping it interesting, but still showcasing ourselves and what we like to play and what we like to do.

Several songs on City of Glass are funny. There’s one, “Toys,” making fun of a men who act like boys, another about getting “Sick on a Plane” and a humorous take on busking, “Solicitor Man.” Why so lighthearted this time around?

Scott Gates: I grew up playing bluegrass with a lot of silly guys. There’s a bouncy kind of lighthearted feel in a lot of traditional stuff. … I noticed that a lot of songs that I had written were kind of getting down into my feelings and whatnot, and I wanted to write one that I knew would be fun for my friends to play.

Are there models in bluegrass you’re following with the humor?

SG: There is a history of fun stuff like The Louvin Brothers. I’m also influenced by Jimmy Martin. Jimmy Martin is one of the pillars of bluegrass music, and he’s hilarious.

“Toys” is about a young guy or maybe an immature man. Is it about yourself, Scott?

SG: A little bit, yeah, probably as a teenager noticing the involuntary methods by which young, dumb boys go about thinking of themselves. It was mostly born out of that phrase, “The man who dies with the most toys wins.”

The title cut, “City of Glass,” is about leaving an artistic legacy. Aren’t you guys a little young to be concerned about that?

AJ: Yeah, I’m pretty young. I’m 26 now, but I have been doing music since I was really young. Collectively, we figured out that the band has about 90 years worth of experience. I’ve been playing on stage since I was about four or five years old. So I’m young, but I have been doing it for a long time. Legacy is having something that you’ve made be around even when you’re not doing it anymore. That’s a big theme of “City of Glass.”

As you say, you got started very young as musicians and Jack Tuttle was a common mentor. How did that develop?

SG: I met AJ when she was four. I knew her older sister Molly, ‘cause she’s my age. So I knew her more. But [Sullivan Tuttle] was around, and Sully and AJ had known each other since back then. I was probably about seven or eight when I first started going to the Father’s Day Festival and the music camp. So I got an opportunity to learn and play from people like John Reischman and Mike Compton and see musicians like The Osborne Brothers and Earl Scruggs. The picking scene is incredibly high quality.

AJ, you were the only non-Tuttle in the Tuttle family band when you were very young. What was that like?

AJ: I loved it. As a young kid, it’s kind of hard to be in the moment and really appreciate what you’re doing. As a seven-year-old to fifteen-year-old, I went about it as like, “OK, we’re playing a gig, I’m going to practice here and I’m going to sing my song. I’m hanging out with my friends, and that’s it.” But being in that band was definitely instrumental in my progress as a bluegrass musician, because I got to work directly with Jack Tuttle. Everyone loves Jack because he’s such a renowned teacher in the community and obviously all of his kids are talented beyond measure. So I was able to play with people who were better than me and also equal to me. My mom, growing up, she always said, “You always want to play with people who are better than you, because that’s how you’re going to get better.” And so I got to have that opportunity for many years.

Is there any competition now between yourself, Molly Tuttle and Bronwyn Keith-Hynes now that you all are competing musicians in the marketplace?

SG: Absolutely! [Laughs]

AJ: No, no, no, definitely not. For me and Molly, we’re branching off and doing our own thing. We were in a band for however many years, and now we’re off doing our own projects. And Bronwyn is branching off and doing her own projects in a similar way.

So, it’s the same in any community or genre of music, you played together and now you’re doing your own thing. Molly’s singing on our album as well, on a song [“I Can’t Find You at All”] that her dad wrote.

AJ, you could pursue a solo career, why do you prefer a band situation?

AJ: It makes me happy. I like playing with other people. I don’t really like performing by myself. I feel like I have a lot to offer, but I also like playing with people who also have a lot to offer and are amazing talents. And, you know, people compliment our band on how many singers there are. I always think that the more singers the better, the more talent you can showcase the better.

Pretty much anyone in the band could peel off and do a solo career. But I think what makes us really unique and strong as a band is that we all can be individual musicians, but we choose to play together, because it just makes the creative juices flow more and it makes us want to even continue on more than I would as a solo musician.

SG: At some point, I’ll probably do my own project. But right now, all I care about is playing music with AJ and the boys and see where this goes. I try not to plan too much. I don’t really scheme. I probably should scheme a little bit more, but I just don’t.

How does the California bluegrass scene differ from the South?

SG: A lot of people think of California as the jammy stuff, the Deadhead stuff that comes out of there. But even to this day, the California Bluegrass Association is very traditional. It’s one of the most traditional associations out there and there’s also a huge focus on singing. The singers that come out of a place like Tennessee are extremely good at blending. There’s a school of singing, and a lot of them sound very similar. Their harmonies are incredibly perfect. But California tends to reward individuality and uniqueness. The unique voices are kind of put on a pedestal.

AJ, your singing style is more subtle than showy. Why?

AJ: I agree with you. I’ve always really appreciated the subtlety of singing to where it’s not, “Look at me. Look at how well I can sing.”

“Hillside” uses the metaphor of a hill that aspires to be a mountain. What does the metaphor represent?

AJ: “Hillside” is about women empowerment. The metaphor is that you are this hill that is bombarded by all these outside elements trying to knock you down. But your foundation has become so strong and nothing’s really going to topple you over.

Have you experienced a lot of sexism in your career?

AJ: I’ve experienced some, of course. Especially after shows, you know a lot of older gentleman say things to me that obviously they mean well, but it just turns out to be very sexist. I get a lot of the, “If I was 20-years, 30-years younger” sort of statements, and it’s just like, “Ooh, gosh.”

How about general discrimination?

AJ: Yeah, especially jamming in the bluegrass community, as a woman sometimes you’ll just get into those circles that have that male energy so present and it’s really hard for women to join a jam sometimes. But I’ve learned to try to just get myself in there over the years with support from my mom and other strong women who are also in the community.

Are you on the record on where the “Blue Summit” band name originates?

AJ: Our first festival we played was a Kate Wolf festival. We actually didn’t really have a band name yet that we were happy with. The original name we hated. Our original bass player at the time, Isaac Cornelius, came up with The Highway 17 Savages, which doesn’t really resonate with our band at all. We totally needed to change this name. So we made these recordings to send in to Kate Wolf at Isaac’s house, which he grew up on the summit in Santa Cruz. So we were like bluegrass on the summit. So we became Blue Summit.

Photo Credit: Natia Cinco