Tag: amy ray

Mixtape: Yarn’s Songs Of and About Pop Culture

Posted on by Justin Hiltner

I make a lot of references in Yarn’s music about other bands, artists, movies, actors, etc… I didn’t realize how much until I started working on this Mixtape.  Just a few of the things I mention are Jim Croce, Dolly Parton, The Allman Brothers, George Burns, Bob Wills, Waylon Jennings, Velvet Underground, Rex Moroux – and the list goes on. This Mixtape will include references to other artists, food, and places famous in the world of pop culture during its given time of release. – Blake Christiana, Yarn

“Play Freebird” – Yarn

I figured I’d start and end with two of our songs from our new album, Born, Blessed, Grateful & Alive. My wife started writing this one about her father and I took it over and finished it. The entire song is based around another super famous song that Mandy’s dad used to play around the house when she was a kid. And now, if anyone yells out ‘Free Bird’ at one of our concerts, we’ve got something to give ’em.

“You Never Even Called Me By Name” – David Allen Coe

Such a perfect song for this Mixtape. Coe even impersonates the singers he references in this song as well as poking fun at the entire country music genre. Pretty brilliant. Waylon Jennings, Charley Pride, Merle Haggard, and he even references his own name.

“Calling Elvis” – Dire Straits

We could do a giant Mixtape with songs that just reference Elvis alone. I love this one, because just about every lyric is a reference to Elvis and the songs he recorded. Also, Mark Knopfler is THE MAN. More Elvis to come on this list.

“Bette Davis Eyes” – Kim Carnes

I had to include a quintessential ’80s tune on here and this is it. Great voice on Kim Carnes, the perfect sultry rasp. Of course she references the actress, Bette Davis, as well as Greta Garbo.

“Mrs. Robinson” – Simon & Garfunkel

Here’s one with a sports icon reference. Paul Simon has done a lot of these kinds of references in his songs, too, and I’ll include one of those later in the tape. Joe DiMaggio, the famous New York Yankee who married Marilyn Monroe, is mentioned here as ‘Joltin’ Joe.’

“Candle In The Wind” – Elton John

Nice little transition here from The Yankee Clipper to Marilyn Monroe. This entire song is written about Monroe.

“Man on The Moon” – R.E.M.

Lots of references here, but the main star of the song is Andy Kaufman, the brilliant comedian who starred in Taxi in the ’70s. Love Andy Kaufman and R.E.M. Great song. Other honorable pop-culture mentions in this song are 21, Checkers, Chess, and of course Elvis. Also a great Elvis impression from Michael Stipe.

“Nobody Home” – Pink Floyd

The Wall might have been my favorite album as a kid. And in this particular song off that album, Roger Waters sings ‘the obligatory Hendrix perm,’ a direct reference to Jimi Hendrix and his hair style. Glad I got to include Pink Floyd on here. Beautiful song.

“Walkin’ In Memphis” – Marc Cohn

This song just had to be on here. More Elvis for ya, along with WC Handy, Beale Street, Al Green, and more. Another fantastic song.

“Graceland” – Paul Simon

What do you know, more Elvis. I think I need to write a song about Elvis now. This song is too good, it paints a picture as good as any song ever written. Enough said.

“Dairy Queen” – Indigo Girls

I thought we needed some pop-culture food references, so I included these next two songs. Not to mention, Indigo Girls and Amy Ray are my wife’s favorites. Amy Ray’s recent solo records have all been really great and everyone should have a listen.

“Factory” – Band of Horses

I love this tune and its reference to the candy of my youth, Now and Laters. To me, Band of Horses is like a modern day Beach Boys. Great band, great songs, and great harmonies. This song reminds me how half my life is spent in a hotel room.

“I Want You” – Yarn

I reference the 1980 movie, Honeysuckle Rose, with Willie Nelson & Diane Cannon. Not sure anyone saw it, but it’s about an affair on the road between musicians Nelson and Cannon, and the song itself follows a similar plot line. I wrote this song with my longtime writing partner, Shane Spaulding.

Photo Credit: Bob Adamek

BGS 5+5: H.C. McEntire

Posted on by Editor

Artist: H.C. McEntire
Hometown: Durham, North Carolina
Latest Album: Every Acre

What’s your favorite memory from being on stage?

Probably playing on stage at the Ryman Auditorium in Nashville, and getting to open for and perform with the Indigo Girls there. It is often considered the church of country music in the U.S. You can feel it, from the church pews, to the stained glass, to the energy of everyone who’s ever played there—most of them iconic in the American music canon. Honestly, I cried a little in the dressing room after we came off stage that night. I didn’t expect to be so moved, but I was. Full of gratitude. Hugged each of my bandmates for a little longer than usual. It’s like you have arrived somewhere, wherever that is, when you finally get to play the Ryman. I remember driving home to North Carolina the next day, going across the Blue Ridge mountains, and thinking something like “I don’t have anything to prove now” and just smiling.

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

I find art created in mediums other than music incredibly inspiring and their influence reaches me probably even more impactful than other music. I love to read poetry, prose, memoirs, mostly nonfiction, and mostly in short-form. Historical documentaries are often a part of my week; they seem to stimulate me and help me relax a bit. Though I’m certainly not someone who keeps up with current or cult films—in fact, often I forget the details and plotlines relatively quickly after watching full-length dramas—the process of learning how to make basic music videos to accompany singles from Every Acre has been pretty exciting. Just editing in iMovie, you know—but it’s letting me see my work in different perspectives and interact with it on a different level, especially in the pacing and space. As I’ve gotten older, I’ve become really fascinated by movement and dance, the choreography and execution of it—both modern and experimental as well as traditional forms like ballroom and folk. Most significantly, whenever I hit a creative wall with my own work I tend to switch gears and go to an art museum, let the creations of others move me, pull me out of myself for a while.

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

These are boring, but they are honest. On tour, I go on a morning run and spend time stretching and meditating, setting intentions for the day, centering myself mentally and psychically. Closer to show time, I do some basic vocal warmups for a few minutes, get the guitar in my hands and go over a few songs so my fingers feel ready. Cough drops, hot water, honey. In the studio, I like to cleanse the space by burning dried herbs and bringing in a couple personal items that bring me a sense of safety and sacrality. Also, there’s something about recording on a full moon; I always lean into that if the calendar allows.

What has been the best advice you’ve received in your career so far?

I was blessed early on in my career to befriend and be mentored by Amy Ray (of the Indigo Girls) and she has taught me so much—like how important it is to rigidly retain your integrity above all else, to hold it with more gravity than any accolade or opportunity; how self-preservation is crucial to sustaining a healthy relationship with music as a career; take performing seriously and practice regularly; never take one audience member or listener for granted and in fact be explicit and liberal with showing earnest gratitude for their support—make time to shake hands and connect whenever possible, with the house production crew and the person who drove hours to see you play; the importance of putting your heart and full spirit into whatever you’re performing; to write honestly, even if the truth is uncomfortable to others, even you; and perhaps most importantly, she has shown me how important it is to champion contemporaries, especially women and minorities, and be convicted in causes you believe in.

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

I’m grateful to live in an area with many hiking trails and nature preserves—my favorite being the Eno River State Park. The natural world plays a large part in my life—it inspires, educates, and mesmerizes me every day. I grew up in the countryside of western North Carolina, so I find great security in being surrounded by nature. It is holy to me, it is real, it is honest; it reminds me of how interconnected everything is, how vast, how even small ecosystems have a power and purpose; it helps me center and ground which also allow me to push creatively. Nature offers endless enamorment and I have deep gratitude for and honor every bit that welcomes me to stand in it, even for a moment.

Photo Credit: Heather Evans Smith

Basic Folk – Amy Ray

Posted on by Shelby Williamson

Amy Ray is best known for being one half of Indigo Girls with Emily Sailers, a band that’s been going strong since the late 80’s. She’s also known for her activism and love for all types of music. On her latest solo album, If It All Goes South, Amy’s bringing us songs of comfort and healing. Recorded live to tape in Nashville, this album features an incredible lineup of guests like Brandi Carlile, I’m With Her, Allison Russell, Phil Cook and Alison Brown. She’s confronting racism, homophobia, religion and mortality in her songs and we go deep into those topics in this episode.

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Aside from exploring gender identity and being comfortable in your own body, I had an agenda in our interview. I’ve talked about this a little on the podcast, but recently our dog Willis suddenly and unexpectedly died. Amy’s new album features the song “Muscadine,” which was written when her oldest dog passed away. The song’s about “learning to love and receive love in the purest way, and to not be picky about life, but to stay the course with curiosity and gratitude.” I was grateful for Amy’s words of wisdom about the loss of a dog and am happy to share them with you. Actually, Amy’s full of wisdom and is always so open to whatever questions come her way. Enjoy this conversation with a very, very good person.

Editor’s Note: Basic Folk is currently running their annual fall fundraiser! Visit basicfolk.com/donate for a message from hosts Cindy Howes and Lizzie No, and to support this listener-funded podcast.

Photo Credit: Sandlin Gaither

The BGS Radio Hour – Episode 216

Posted on by Shelby Williamson

Welcome to the BGS Radio Hour! Since 2017, this weekly radio show and podcast has been a recap of all the great music, new and old, featured on the digital pages of BGS. This week, David Crosby and Sarah Jarosz join up for a Joni Mitchell number, husband-and-wife duo Darin and Brooke Aldridge bring us some beautiful bluegrass harmonies, LA’s own Los Lobos share their rendition of a favorite Jackson Browne tune, and much more.

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The Wallflowers – “Maybe Your Heart’s Not In It Anymore”

25 years after their breakout hit and almost a decade after their most recent release, The Wallflowers are back with a new album, Exit Wounds. In our interview with Jakob Dylan we talk about the project, singing with Shelby Lynne, the documentary Dylan executive produced, Echo in the Canyon, and more.

Ric Robertson – “Carolina Child”

We spoke with Ric Robertson about playing a popcorn kernel in a musical as a kid, his kite surfing aspirations, his new album Carolina Child, and more in a recent edition of 5+5.

Amy Ray Band – “Chuck Will’s Widow”

Amy Ray of The Indigo Girls finds herself often haunted by the song of the nocturnal songbird, the Chuck-will’s-widow: “I find that I witness the most profound moments in the midst of their songs, when everyone else is asleep. While I am often in need of rest, the respite I find in being awake under a miraculous and melodic night sky is too tempting for me to sleep. It’s a conundrum that inspires me, but also leaves me bleary-eyed.”

Darin and Brooke Aldridge – “Once In A While”

Bluegrass husband-and-wife duo Darin & Brooke Aldridge hope that every aspect of their music makes you smile — even more than “Once in a While!”

Matt the Electrician – “Home Again”

Folk singer-songwriter Matt The Electrician will return with a new album called We Imagined an Ending in November. A new track, “Home Again,” takes inspiration from the point of view of his teenage daughter. “The conundrum of parenthood, that as you finally start to figure some things out, and try to pass along some of that hard won wisdom, you’re greeted with your own teenage face staring balefully back at you.”

Tobacco City – “AA Blues”

Says Chris Coleslaw of Tobacco City’s latest single, “The character in the song is trapped between working in a brewery and staring at beers all day and trying to walk a sober line. I think regardless of your sobriety status we can all relate to those kind of blues.”

Jesse Daniel – “Clayton Was A Cowboy”

Jesse Daniel spoke with us about his new album, Beyond These Walls, about growing up catching crawdads and fishing, the chills-inducing feeling when a crowd sings along with his lyrics, and more in a recent 5+5.

Joy Oladokun – “Judas”

Joy Oladokun is able to do more with just an acoustic guitar and her voice than many artists can in an entire discography of work. And going from Arizona to L.A. then across country to Nashville with a new outlook and perspective, her music stands on a plane with a unique vantage point.

Luke LeBlanc – “Same Blues”

A new video for Luke LeBlanc’s co-written tune with Roy August, “Same Blues,” attempts to capture what the song is about: the tug of war between the status quo and what you’re currently doing versus that thing you really want to do.

Midnight North – “Silent Lonely Drifter”

“Silent Lonely Drifter” is an original folk melody reminiscent of timeless Appalachian string band music. Each verse references a different full moon, speaking to the natural balance that exists in the universe.

Los Lobos – “Jamaica Say You Will”

The Jackson Browne tune “Jamaica Say You Will” always resonated for the fellas of Los Lobos and the narrative and storytelling were attractive, too. So, they recorded their own rendition of the track on their latest project, Native Sons.

Aoife O’Donovan ft. Milk Carton Kids – “More Than We Know”

New music from Aoife O’Donovan is here and we’re loving it! Hear tracks created with Joe Henry and the Milk Carton Kids — one inspired by the modern classic re-telling of Peter Pan, the movie Hook.

John R. Miller – “Shenandoah Shakedown”

Depreciated, the new Rounder Records release from singer-songwriter John R. Miller, combines many of his string band and bluegrass influences with a satisfyingly melancholy and dark mood — plus plenty of fiddle.

David Crosby ft. Sarah Jarosz – “For Free”

Legendary singer, guitar picker, and songwriter David Crosby keeps his love for collaboration alive on his new album, For Free, which features guests and co-writers such as Sarah Jarosz, Michael McDonald, his son James Raymond, and more.

Photos: (L to R) Joy Oladokun by Nolan Knight; Aoife O’Donovan courtesy of Shorefire Media; David Crosby by Anna Webber

BGS 5+5: Amanda Anne Platt

Posted on by Editor

Artist name: Amanda Anne Platt & The Honeycutters (answered by Amanda)
Hometown: Asheville, North Carolina
Latest singles: “Desert Flowers” and “There May Come a Day”
Personal nicknames (or rejected band names): I was in a band with my brother and my cousin when I was 8 that was called Crusty Chinchilla Rejects Recently Escaped from a Mental Institution…

What’s your favorite memory from being on stage?

I feel really lucky as I sit here and try to work out what my favorite memory of being on stage is… it’s nice that there have been so many. I think one of my favorites from recent memory was the last show of our 2019 tour opening for Amy Ray. It was at Club Café in Pittsburgh and I got to get up on stage for her last song, “I Didn’t Know a Damn Thing,” which is one of my favorites from her album Holler, and then the encore which was Tom Petty’s “Refugee.” I was enormously pregnant and the stage was already crowded so it was a tight squeeze! But I felt so cool just getting to sing along and dance. The energy in the room was fantastic.

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

Probably literature and film, the most. When someone can tell a story in a highly relatable, moving way, I am very inspired by that. When I finish a good book or leave the theater after a really well-made film I almost always want to sit down and write a song.

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

I really enjoy making my band “quack” like the Mighty Ducks, but I would be lying if I said they were as into it as I am. And you can’t do it alone. So, mostly I just cry in the bathroom. Actually I am usually just scrambling to write a set list and eat something moments before we go on stage.

Since food and music go so well together, what is your dream pairing of a meal and a musician?

I grew up in the land of all-night diners, and I’ve really been missing that especially now during the pandemic. So I would love to have a post-show burger at a proper diner somewhere… I feel like John Prine would have been a great guy to share a booth at a diner with. I have some questions for him about his songs that I kind of always hoped I’d have a chance to ask him in person.

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

I might actually do the reverse more… I tend to always use “I” even though I don’t write autobiographically very often. So in that way I guess I turn every character into “me” and I hide myself in that way…?

Photo credit: Sandlin Gaither

Indigo Girls Expand “Country Radio” With Black, Brown and Queer Musicians

Posted on by Justin Hiltner

Hollywood, the 2020 Netflix series from director-screenwriter Ryan Murphy, is a resplendent show dripping in Art Deco that does not wholly reimagine Los Angeles’ golden era, but rather subtly inserts a quintessential question: “What if?”

What if Hollywood hadn’t been as… ___-ist? (Sexist, racist, misogynist, ageist, etc.) If one happens to be born into a region, a folkway, a culture, an art form that doesn’t include you, or that doesn’t quite love you back, one often doesn’t realize it until it’s too late. And then what? Do we, the rural, country-loving queers, wait around for our Ryan Murphy to reimagine the world to better include us? Not quite.

For Emily Saliers and Amy Ray of Indigo Girls — and, for that matter, almost each and every queer who has ever loved roots music — that “What if?” question is existential, but it also doesn’t matter. What if country music loved LGBTQ+ folks? The lyrics of “Country Radio,” a track off the duo’s sixteenth studio album, Look Long, tell it plainly: “But as far as these songs will take me/ Is as far as I’ll go/ I’m just a gay kid in a small town/ Who loves country radio.”

While curating the following playlist of their favorites from country music airwaves and songs they wish were included there, Saliers and Ray offer a quite simple solution actionable in each present moment: Be who you are, listen to the music that brings you joy, love who you love — and be anti-racist.

Emily Saliers: [I began with the idea:] What are the songs that I listened to that I latched onto, that sort of gave me a feeling of “I can’t get into this song [because of its heteronormativity], but I love this song so much”? One of the first songs that came to mind is “Mama’s Song” by Carrie Underwood. 

I should preface this by saying, I don’t expect that there can’t be heteronormative country songs, or that queer life has to be explicitly represented in songs, it’s not that. It’s the feeling of the way a song moves me emotionally, but then it stops me a little bit short of being able to fully experience it because of the language or the obvious implications of man and woman.

I love Carrie Underwood’s voice and she’s taken more of a harder, pop direction since “Mama’s Song,” but she sings this so beautifully. She’s talking to her mother, “He is good… he treats me like a real man should,” and yet the beauty of her song [is in] her telling her mom that’s she’s going to be okay. 

Amy Ray: For me it’s a little different because I never had the experience of feeling like I wish I could put myself in a song. I think it’s because, gender-wise, I always just related to the male singers. I kinda have that gender dysphoria, you know? [Chuckles] I have these filters that sort of make it my own — probably out of necessity, from growing up loving the Allman Brothers, Pure Prairie League, and Randy Travis so much. [Sings] “Amie, whatcha gonna do?” Pure Prairie League!

It’s very odd — Emily’s perspective on this is something I can understand, and I agree that it’s this weird disconnect with country music. We have to kind of acclimate it to ourselves, in some way, using some kind of trick in our minds. But I’ve always had that internal translator…

ES: Another example is Brett Young’s “In Case You Didn’t Know.” Now this is a song that you can listen to and fit your own queer life into it — as far as I remember it doesn’t have any gender pronouns. Then I watched the video and of course he’s singing to a woman who comes into the audience and he plays to her, alone. It’s a love song to his girlfriend — or wife or partner or whatever — so I could live in that song and think back to relationships and apply it in my own life, but then I watched the video and that door shut a little bit.

AR: I love Angaleena Presley, the Pistol Annies. Presley is such a great writer. “Better Off Red” is one of my favorite songs that she’s written… Honestly, if I hear songs, if I like it, I just put myself in it. I don’t really think about it or worry about it. It’s a survival mechanism from my youth, not that it’s the right thing to do. It’s built inside me.

…I thought you couldn’t be a country singer if you were gay and left-wing and a complete dyke. That made me feel more alienated than the songs themselves, that idea of its inaccessibility. Or, if you went to a show and you were sitting there in that audience, in the early days before it all kind of busted open, you would feel scared. Or judged. Or uncomfortable.

ES: Think about what a splash that song by Little Big Town, “Girl Crush,” had. Just the implication of a lesbian relationship or feelings! That song was a big hit, but it got people talking. [Probably] the majority of the people in this world lean more heteronormative, so they’re representing themselves in these songs. There’s absolutely nothing wrong with that. 

I wouldn’t want to listen to just albums that are for and by queer people, oh my god. No way! But we have to have them as part. I think about what an influence Ferron was, how much Amy and I love Ferron. When her first album came out, it was like, “Oh my gosh this is one of the best songwriters in the country and she’s queer!” I can’t describe how important it was to have an artist like that.

Even Lil Nas X, who had the number one hit forever-ever-ever with Billy Ray Cyrus. It’s awesome to know that he’s queer! And a guy like Young Thug, a rapper out of Atlanta, who’s not gender normative by any stretch, to me. It’s interesting. It’s good to have a mish mosh! It’s not that the majority of songwriters out there can’t be represented in their own songwriting, we just have to have ours, as well.

AR: [We] should add Amythyst Kiah. Amythyst is amazing.

[Racism] is the pivotal struggle of the Americana scene and the roots scene. How do you honor Black and Brown folks who want to be in this scene — and maybe some of them don’t even want to be in this scene because even Americana is rooted in questionable legacy. How much do people of color want to be immersed in that scene when it still feels so racist? Even the best parts of it. It’s a huge question to unwrap and it has to do with such a long history of where country music came from.

We stole the banjo and put it in our hillbilly music in the mountains and called it our own. We forgot all the stuff we learned from “our slaves,” you know? It’s crazy to me, if you think about the racist roots of where a lot of this comes from. Merging this racist legacy with this incredible populist music — music for the people, like Woody Guthrie, like the Carter Family. You get those two things bumping up against each other constantly, how do you entangle that and make this a space where it doesn’t matter what color you are? Where it doesn’t matter what your religious persuasion, or your political party, or your gender, or your sexual preference, or anything.

I think the way we deal with it is by all of us thinking all the time and being mindful of [that racist history]. And including [Black artists] in our playlists and touring with them. Some people are like, “What does it mean if you’re forcing this integration? Is it just going through the motions?” No! No, no, no.

ES: I’ll [echo] the things that Amy said, practically: Tour with Black musicians or Brown musicians or musicians who have not been able to feel that they’re welcome and make everybody welcome. Like Amythyst or Chastity Brown. Those are artists of color who have been discriminated against, who feel other-than in the world of their genres.

I think, first, we all — we white people, we people “of no color,” we “colorless” people — should dig deep, identify our own racism and how far it goes, how much we use it. Break it down, talk about it, identify it in each other. Really start from the core of things and hopefully act outwardly as a result of what we’ve dug through, inwardly. Try to heal and fix, you know? We’ve got to ask artists of color what their experience is like and why it’s like that. I’ve got to assume that there must be some Black artists, who if they hear a song from a white, country, roots singer about the freedom of driving down a dark, country road, they’re not going to feel the same way about the history of Black people down dark country roads. A lot of it is context and, as Amy says, there’s so much to be unraveled. But we are at a tipping point.

AR: Sister Rosetta Tharpe, I feel like there’s a lot of crossover, to me from that and the beginnings of early rock ‘n’ roll. That’s kind of what Elvis Presley was doing and borrowing from. I think about that sometimes, that territory. I like old recordings, like field recordings almost, of all the Alan Lomax type stuff he would collect. Field songs, prison songs. I think a lot of country writers have taken from that stuff, you know? 

I remember an interview with Kathleen Hanna that really resonated with me. She said, when they ask you who your favorite artists are, most of us name all these male artists. That’s who we can think of, because that’s who’s archived the best. Straight men, bands, and writers. If you sit down and really think about who you love and make a list of the women and the queer folks — this is what she was talking about, she wasn’t talking about color at the time or race or the social construct of race — and you take that list to your interviews and rattle off those names, you’ll be more honest, because you’ll be talking about who you really listen to and not just trying to remember [anyone] off the top of your head. 

People are so out of the habit — and so in the habit — of white supremacy that we don’t even know how to do the right things, just in our instincts. We have to learn, write it down, so we remember to do it.

Photo credit: Jeremy Cowart

This interview has been edited and condensed for clarity.

LISTEN: Indigo Girls, “Country Radio”

Posted on by Editor

Artist: Indigo Girls
Hometown: Atlanta, Georgia
Song: “Country Radio”
Album: Look Long
Release Date: May 22, 2020
Label: Rounder Records

In Their Words: “I can tell it’s resonating with people. When I get to that line, ‘I’m just a gay kid who loves country radio,’ there’s an audible verbal response from the audience. This song is the way I felt doing those four-hour drives from Nashville to Atlanta, listening to country music radio. I could almost put my own life story in these songs, but I can’t. There are gender divisions and heteronormative realities. There’s a lot of self-homophobia that I’ve had to work on in my own life that plays into this as well.” — Emily Saliers, Indigo Girls

Photo credit: Jeremy Cowart

Be Together: Newport Folk Fest 2019 in Photographs

Posted on by Justin Hiltner

Newport Folk Festival has always played host to singular, incomparable, once-in-a-lifetime musical moments. As you read this you can almost certainly think of at least a handful of examples, right off the top of your head. This year carried on that tradition and then some, displaying absolute magic across the festival’s four stages over the course of the weekend. Too many headline-worthy moments were sprinkled throughout, but BGS photographer Daniel Jackson was on hand to capture this folk and roots lightning in a bottle — from the performance debut of super supergroup The Highwomen to celebrating 80 years of Mavis Staples to surprise guests that make being green and looking cheap seem easy and effortless.

Perhaps the most meaningful take away from the festival, though, was not its star-studded stages, but its mantra — a timely reminder in this particular global moment: Be present. Be kind. Be open. Be together. Folk music, in all of its forms, carves out just such a space to allow for this togetherness. See it for yourself in these photographs from Newport Folk Fest 2019.

All photos: Daniel Jackson

Kacey Musgraves is Country’s Queer Icon, but These Roots Artists are Actually Queer

Posted on by Justin Hiltner

Kacey Musgraves’ dominance during Sunday’s 61st Annual Grammy Awards has certainly solidified her place as country music’s newest queer icon. She offered simply stunning, near-perfect performances during the primetime broadcast and took home four trophies: Best Country Solo Performance, Best Country Song, Best Country Album, and one of the most prestigious awards of the night, Album of the Year. So-called “Gay Twitter” devolved into a tizzy as the show unfolded through the afternoon and evening with Musgraves decidedly at the top.

Said Album of the Year, Golden Hour, saw a critical mass of LGBTQ+ fans embracing Musgraves’ music, but her relationship to the broader gay community has been percolating since her debut album, especially given its overt “Follow Your Arrow” message. All combined, her eye for gratuitous-yet-effortless glamour, her acid-steeped, anime-meets-California-meets-trailer park aesthetics, and her singular, pop-influenced countrypolitan sounds are gay country manna from heaven. And it’s not just in the music. This year, she made an appearance as a guest judge on VH1’s RuPaul’s Drag Race All Stars and she routinely advocates for LGBTQ+ fans and their causes on her social media feeds.

To be sure, Musgraves fits the diva-idolized-by-gays criteria impeccably, but there’s a certain passive erasure that can occur when fans consciously or subconsciously become myopic in their praise of and infatuation with straight, cisgendered, female artists. It’s true that Musgraves has played an important role in expanding country music’s borders — musically, socially, and otherwise — but at the same time a burgeoning community of LGBTQ+ writers, artists, musicians, and creators are carving out their own space within country, Americana, folk, and even bluegrass and old-time.

This writer would never go so far as to suggest that one ought not squeal with delight at Musgraves’ fierce-as-fuck costumes, her tear-jerking solo performance of “Rainbow,” or her impossibly long and flowy Cher-callback, bump-it wig. Rather, if you love Kacey Musgraves and Golden Hour — because queer identities can be seen and reflected within her work, because she opens the door to the idea that country isn’t a forbidding place for these identities, and/or because she’s unabashed and unapologetic in her pursuit of these goals — you’re going to love these eleven badass, talented, inspirational, openly queer roots musicians, too.

Time to get stanning:

Brandi Carlile

After last night’s show this name should no longer need mentioning or introduction, as Carlile and her twin collaborators, Tim and Phil Hanseroth, absolutely brought down the Staples Center with one of the most moving performances of the night, the soaring, galvanizing, overtly queer, and now Grammy-winning masterpiece, “The Joke.” Carlile is openly gay, married, a mother of two daughters, and a tireless voice for representation and progress in Americana and its offshoot genres. If “The Joke” resonates with you (i.e. if it makes you sob uncontrollably, as it does this writer), check out “That Wasn’t Me,” “Hurricane,” and, of course, “The Story.”

Mary Gauthier

Gauthier’s latest, Rifles & Rosary Beads, was nominated for Best Folk Album this year and though it didn’t take home the prize, the album has received universal acclaim for its message of hope, empathy, and visibility for members of our armed services and the struggles they face during and after their service. Gauthier collaborated with veterans of the military in writing all of the record’s heart wrenching, honest, raw songs — which might seem counterintuitive given gays’ historically tenuous relationship with the military writ large. But Gauthier’s own life story, and the trials she’s faced, make her the perfect writer to prioritize empathy above all else in these songs.

Don’t sleep on the rest of her discography, though. The simple profundity of her writing is consistently awe-inspiring. Check out “Mercy Now” after you’ve given Rifles & Rosary Beads a listen.

Karen & the Sorrows

Jewish New York City native Karen Pittelman may seem like an unlikely frontwoman of a country band, especially when you factor in her past punk and queercore experiences, but it turns out she grew up bathed in the country compilation albums her father produced and sold for a living. Her voice recalls country mavens of bygone eras — it’s delicate yet powerful, with a pin-up girl quality that’s as subversive as it is natural. Also check out “Take Me for a Ride,” a Pittelman original that plays like a trad-country, queer version of Sam Hunt’s smash hit, “Body Like a Back Road,” but without the cheese.

Little Bandit

All of the hollerin’, barn-burning, hell-raising country soul of your favorite outlaw country rockers, but with lacy gay edges, Little Bandit (AKA Alex Caress, et. al.) is as honky-tonk as it gets. It’s a beautiful balancing act, presenting as an impossibly big-voiced, piano-smashing, charismatic frontman while singing male pronouns without hesitation. He leans into a beautifully paradoxical queerness that equally embraces diamonds, Waffle House allusions, platform shoes, and plain ol drinkin’. If you like it — and you will — check out “Diamonds,” too.

Sarah Shook & the Disarmers

Outspoken outlaws in a crop of alt-country artists who align with that eponymous country movement of the 70s, Sarah Shook & the Disarmers are a road-dogging band that would seemingly fit that mold, excepting Shook’s deliberate efforts to challenge the inherent heteronormativity of country music at every turn. For Shook it’s not necessarily about having a political message, as she put it in a 2018 interview with BGS, “I feel like doing what I’m doing — touring relentlessly, putting out records, and being unapologetically myself — is a very powerful and political maneuver as well… I’ve never been concerned about that because I feel it’s important to be honest and forthright as a human being, and as an artist and certainly lyrically as well.”

Indigo Girls

Both Amy Ray and Emily Saliers — the two halves that make up the absolutely iconic Indigo Girls — have released solo albums in the past year, both of which draw heavily on folk, Americana, and country influences. This should be no surprise to even the most casual IG fans. Banjos, mandolins, ukuleles, and so many other hallmarks of roots music have been integral to the Indigo Girls’ sound all along. But the songwriting, devastating and personal and oh so very real, is the real takeaway from both projects.

kd lang

This list might as well not exist if it excluded kd lang. Before her crossover to more mainstream genre designations, kd pretty much originated the role of badass queer making unimpeachably trad country music that refused to shy away from its queer touchpoints. Just take a look at this video! “Honky Tonk Angels,” sung with Loretta Lynn, Brenda Lee, Kitty Wells, and finally, kd in all of her butch, gender-bending, binary-eschewing glory — complete with a Minnie Pearl cameo! Country has always been (more than) a little queer, y’all.

Lavender Country

A man well, well ahead of his time, Patrick Haggerty (AKA Lavender Country), released his debut, self-titled album in 1973. It was a groundbreaking work, but the world, let alone the country music community and its commercial machine, were not ready for it. A Seattle DJ was fired for playing “Cryin’ These Cocksucking Tears” on the airwaves, only one thousand copies of the album were printed, and the band was relegated to performing exclusively at LGBTQ+ events and programs. But, despite being largely shut out of the industry, Haggerty and Lavender Country never ceased. In 2018, at the age of 74, Haggerty took part in AmericanaFest’s very first queer-focused showcase.

Amythyst Kiah

Amythyst Kiah’s booming, captivating voice, and her haunting, Southern gothic approach to Americana, bluegrass, and old-time set her apart from almost anyone else on the scene at this moment. Her reimagination of Dolly Parton’s magnum opus, “Jolene,” is a perfect example of how she carefully turns tradition on its ear. Based in East Tennessee herself, she draws on the rich musical heritage of the region, adding her own spin, creating space to allow herself to soar. And there’s plenty more soaring in her future, as she has opened shows for artists such as Rhiannon Giddens and Indigo Girls across the country and in Europe, and her collaboration album with Giddens, Allison Russell (Birds of Chicago), and Leyla McCalla, Songs of Our Native Daughters, is set to drop February 22.

Alynda Segarra

Singer/songwriter, activist, and Hurray for the Riff Raff frontwoman Alynda Segarra entrances with The Navigator, a concept project that focuses on the life and times of a fictitious Puerto Rican youth living in New York City. Themes of immigration, identity politics, displacement, disenfranchisement, and capitalistic overreach are threaded throughout the album, which offers its songs as tableaus of this girl’s — Navita’s — reality. It’s a stunning reminder that the intricacies and nuances that define us, and by doing so, separate us, are not so difficult for us to overcome with empathy and understanding. “Pa’lante!” (which translates to “forward!”) is the album’s battle cry, a song that turns utter despondency, grief, and a sore lack of humanity into a glimmer of hope.

Trixie Mattel

While almost all other drag queens who delve into the music scene release dance tracks, rap albums, or similar club-ready jams, Trixie Mattel (AKA Brian Firkus) draws upon her rural Wisconsin roots on two folk-adjacent, country-ish albums, Two Birds and One Stone. (Get it?) This isn’t just an opportunist attempt to punch up Trixie’s Dolly Parton-esque, country barbie aesthetic, she’s really got the chops. Not only is she a talented humorous-while-poignant songwriter, her technical skills on guitar and autoharp (yes, autoharp) are precisely honed to showcase her original music. This is no gimmick — though the Doves in Flight Gibson guitar and the custom, pink d’Aigle autoharp are jaw-droppingly perfect additions to Trixie’s lookbook.

 

Missy Raines: A Traveller Through Generations of Bluegrass

Posted on by Justin Hiltner

Bassist and singer/songwriter Missy Raines has spent the majority of her life on the road — she began professionally touring with bluegrass bands as a teenager. Early on, she supplied the low end to acts like Eddie and Martha Adcock and Claire Lynch Band, but the greater part of her past musical decade has been spent fronting her own band, the New Hip, and exploring genre-bending terrain on the fringes of bluegrass. Royal Traveller, her brand new album, sheds the New Hip moniker, but keeps the exploration, inspired by the handle of a suitcase and her ever-nomadic life.

But this isn’t an album that you’d simply file away as a musical fulfillment of the “it’s about the journey, not the destination” cliche. It’s an open and honest telling of the realities of a life in transit, a life in flux, in constant motion. The countless miles Raines has traveled are a gorgeous, weathered patina on her songwriting as well as the careful, intentional arrangements — and rearrangements — of these songs. That patina — which we temporarily coined “haggardness,” clearly  the word of the day during our conversation earlier this month — is balanced by a hopeful message, youthful joy, and the feeling that, despite that weariness, the album ultimately still looks ahead to what’s next.

There’s a beautiful kind of — and I don’t want this to sound insulting at all — haggardness or road-weariness, this totally relatable human feeling of, “wow we’re still doing this,” in the record. It’s kind of beautiful because it doesn’t feel depressing or downtrodden, it doesn’t drag you down, it feels like a musical sigh of relief. How intentional were you in fostering that feeling — or were you? Do you feel that in the record?

I don’t think it was an intentional “sigh of relief,” but I definitely chose these songs intentionally to say the same thing, hopefully in different ways, which is, “I’m still here. I’ve endured.” And, not just “I’ve Endured” — I chose that song specifically because I’ve always loved the words, I’ve always loved it, and wanted to do some kind of different version of it, but also, I wanted to be able to say, “Here’s a little bit about what’s happened to me through these years.” It’s that feeling like, “It is what it is.” I’m not going to sugarcoat it, it is what it is.

The guests on the album demonstrate, once again, how far your musical travels have taken you. Whether it’s 10 String Symphony or Amy Ray of the Indigo Girls, or your husband, Ben, singing harmony with you. You also collaborate so much across generations. It’s such an important part of bluegrass as a community, but it’s just as important to these sorts of conversations, right? What shaped the process of bringing all these collaborators together on the album?

A lot of it came from different configurations of the band and people I’ve worked with before. A lot of those guys are a generation below me at least. I just wanted them to be part of it. I do enjoy collaborating with people from different generations, I really do. I don’t know that we thought about it like, “Let’s get you paired up with somebody who’s not in your age bracket.” I don’t think we did that in that regard, specifically. I know that I do think about wanting to play music with different people just based on how much I like whatever it is they do.

10 String Symphony was just the obvious choice to do this sort of bowed effect we did on “I’ve Endured.” I get so much out of playing with younger people. It’s a kick in the butt. It makes me want to keep playing. I feed off of that, I feed off of the people I’m around, the band that I tour with, when they have this freshness and this eagerness and joy. I still have joy, but I know that I can’t help but be jaded in certain ways and maybe cynical about certain things that they aren’t. It’s interesting to hear from their perspective and it helps me to maintain what I’m doing every day, because I’m getting this input.

Touring with those younger, joyful people is the perfect balance to that haggardness we were talking about, so the music doesn’t strike listeners as beleaguering or at the end of a long, tiring road. Even at the end of all these journeys, the music still sounds like it’s not retiring, it’s asking, “What’s next?”

That’s how I feel. I’m at the point in my life where I have definitely done a lot of miles and done a lot of things, but I’m in no way finished. It feels exciting to think about what the next thing is. I’m thinking about that and excited by that and ready for it. Yes, being around younger people feeds that, to me. I want to learn from them, I want to know who they’re listening to, I want to be turned onto things that I normally might miss, because I just can’t keep up.

We’re all in our little bubbles. I want to hear what their bubbles are. And on the flipside, I like hearing how young people are viewing how they’re struggling. I don’t mean to say just because they’re young doesn’t mean they don’t have struggles, I like hearing how they deal with their struggles. It helps me keep my shit in perspective. We’re still all fighting and we’re all moving in the same direction and that’s really empowering.

I hear your activism in the album as well; it’s simply you, your ethos, and your worldview coming through the music. You’re not only collaborating with all these women, but your deep pride in Appalachia shines through as well. You don’t fall into the trope of a downtrodden, helpless, bleak Appalachia and South. I wonder if this has been a conscious decision, to opt for this sort of hyper-personal approach to your activism, or is it subconscious, just you being you?

I’m just inspired by the fact that there are so many amazing women, both in my generation and coming up behind us, and the ones who came before, too. I’m inspired by the young women, by the women who are my age and kicking ass, and the women who are older than me who keep kicking ass. I’m also so encouraged and feel positive and excited and happy — I can’t find the right word… content. Not content with the way things are, exactly, but content with the fact that it is changing. I’m content that we are on a path. Things are changing. And that my nieces and grandnieces that I have are not going to be in the same world that I grew up in.

And I think it’s just me being me. I don’t think I’ve ever had anything together enough to make a plan that could’ve been contrived that well. [Laughs]

But see, I think that that’s why your music, and that more subtle activism, is so effective, because it’s not overwrought.

I appreciate that, I had tried to make those kinds of important decisions come from my gut. It sounds cliche, but it’s really true. The times that I haven’t done that, when I’ve done things that I’ve felt were what I should do or what would go over better, I’ve always regretted those decisions. When I’ve leaned back and allowed my gut to take me, it’s always been a better feeling and it’s always worked out better in the long run.

It’s interesting that you bring up the heritage and the Appalachian thing, because a few people have said this to me anecdotally or from fans, they’ll come up to me and say, “I can tell you’re such a proud person from Appalachia from this record.” I can tell you that that is the absolute last thing that I was going for. I feel that I am that [proud] person, it’s not disingenuous, but that wasn’t in my thoughts at all. All I was trying to do was to capture a bit of my story.

With “Allegheny Town” I just went to the feelings I get when I go back home, because I get all these really weird feelings when I go back home. I was trying to capture all of that in all of this — in “Royal Traveller,” in “So Good.” I leaned on a lot of visual images [of home] while I was writing this stuff. It’s fascinating to me that people are getting this from this! I’m thrilled, because when you’re not actively trying to get something across, but it is part of what you feel and part of who you are, it feels good when it’s worked.

You’ve played our Shout & Shine showcase at IBMA twice now. It’s not the first or only movement there’s ever been for inclusion in bluegrass, which is important for the record to reflect, but there is this new movement for diversity and inclusion in bluegrass and I wonder what you think, watching this unfold and being a part of it, after being in this community for your entire life and your entire career?

It fills my heart with joy. It’s like the fulfillment of something. Something that had been so missing is now being filled. It’s not completely full, you know–

But the spigot is on.

The spigot is on and I’m just thankful that I’m still alive and that it happened within my lifetime. I’ll hopefully be around for a lot longer, but to know that it’s happening feels like — you know, I’ve often talked about bluegrass is my family. It’s more than just music, it’s literally the family and community that I have chosen to be in. I don’t know where I leave off and where bluegrass begins, I really don’t. Despite all of my explorations into other kinds of music and my fascination with other kinds of music, I say I am bluegrass. I am of bluegrass.

It’s not where I end, but it does define the core of me. Without the community it’s nothing. It’s like being at a family reunion that lasts all year long. You’re at the family reunion and you’re sitting there, and you’ve just eaten a bunch of things, and you’re sitting with all your favorite people, but then you look over here and you see that two facets of the family that haven’t been speaking are now talking to each other. And you’re just filled with joy cause the family’s coming together more, becoming stronger.

All of a sudden it’s like a Fellini movie, people are hanging off of chandeliers and riding Ferris wheels that weren’t there a second ago, and we’re all just playing together. Because another link just got connected. That’s how I feel. We’re all in this family reunion where in the past, people wouldn’t have been connecting, and now that’s all starting to change. It makes me very, very happy. It’s an inexplicable feeling because it’s so important to me. I’m just happy to be a part of it.

Photo credit: Stacie Huckeba