Oh, WOW! A bonus, surprise episode with Watchhouse? Yes! And it is a treat.
We are pleased to have Jacob Sharp of Mipso as our guest host in conversation with his friends Andrew Marlin and Emily Frantz of Watchhouse, talking about their new studio album, Rituals. The record was co-produced with Ryan Gustafson of The Dead Tongues and finds the North Carolina duo exploring themes of identity, awareness, and evolution.
We are so pumped about this pairing on the pod! We are also huge fans of Jacob’s music – with Mipso as well as in his solo endeavors – from his attitude to his vibes. Not to mention how super talented he is. This is a really fun conversation between some old pals. Jacob was based in California, but now moving back to North Carolina, so it’s cool to have a little homecoming for these North Carolinians. Thanks for listening!
Chances are you’ve cultivated a few personal routines to help you navigate the world: one for daily life, one for weekly, monthly, and so on. There’s also likely a handful of individual habits that affect how you choose to go about your routine. The former, at times, can influence the latter, fitting within each other like a pair of nesting dolls, adjacent and similar in their roles.
Then there are rituals. Though these three recurring sets of actions – routines, habits, and rituals – would seem like easily overlapping bedfellows, rituals carry an intrinsic quality the other two lack: mindfulness. Rituals bear a sense of intention like the other two, but it’s often coupled with an element of symbolism or custom. It’s not just a matter of doing something and saying it’s done; there are other connotations or expectations that may influence why doing it matters.
Holding this notion in mind, it’s Rituals that Andrew Marlin and Emily Frantz of North Carolina duo Watchhouse have decided to name their new album. Through its 11 tracks, the married musicians posit an abundance of questions and actions, their contemplations placed in settings that are as clear as a simple back porch and as abstract as a space “through the looking glass,” “beyond this to and fro.” Settings that exist outside of not only any kind of routine, but separate from time and space all together.
Though Watchhouse’s new writings don’t seem to present rituals in their conventional form, the title still feels wholly appropriate. Marlin and Frantz’s reflections, wistful pining, and open-ended ruminations don’t lead to a sense of clear, expected structure that rituals would traditionally provide, but each song is lined with an abundance of intention, mindfulness, and hope for various outcomes. Sometimes these are overtly stated – Oh,I’m dreaming of a life with you in the sun/ And I hope our time together has only just begun… – and sometimes they are dressed in metaphors: Go fire your cannonball, go and fire away/ When the ashes fall we’ll start a brand new day.
There are defined ideas that Watchhouse put forth on the album: identity and awareness, the distinction between patterns and truths, how to develop a positive relationship with change, and what it means to evolve. All the same, while our internal responses to these songs may change over time, the very act of revisiting, replaying, and reconsidering their meanings, and how we are affected by them, can be a form of ritual in its own way.
Amid an extensive tour that will take them all over the U.S. and into Canada through summer and fall, Watchhouse spoke with BGS about their collaborative dynamic, how their individual artistic instincts influence the direction of a song, and the prevalence of duality in the album – as well as in their lives.
It’s been about four years since your last album and eight years since both your lives changed from bandmates to family. Given that Rituals focuses on patterns and the perception of change on our lives, how has the ever-growing longevity of your union in marriage — and all the ways marriage transforms a relationship on its own — changed the way you perceive and interact with the music making process?
Andrew Marlin: When you hit the road and join forces with other people to play music, it’s kind of like stepping outside of the norm and stepping outside of the daily life to go up there and almost take on a role or take on a character in order to get inside the music. You kind of just forget everything that the day often requires of you, because all of a sudden those requirements aren’t there. It’s just the stage and the music and the people that are there rooting for you to go deep, you know?
I think finding that zone with Emily has had its challenges in the past, because we’re so closely tied to each other. We raise kids together and we live together, and so doing all this traveling together and playing music together too, it makes it harder – or made it harder for me at the beginning, I think – to leave the daily routine and expectations behind on stage and just shed all of that and take on that character. It’s one thing to look at your bandmates’ eyes and get a little nod or whatever’s happening during the music. It’s kind of like this understanding of, “I’m not here right now. This is just me playing music.”
Getting to that zone with Emily, now that we’re 16 years into it, has taken a while to get to that point to where it’s an acceptance of all of it, instead of just leaving things behind to get on stage. It’s like we’re carrying all of it with us at all points in time. People that come to see us get a real and honest version of ourselves, trying to go deep in the music but also being completely aware of each other too.
Emily Frantz: I was just thinking about how much things changed in 2020 and 2021, living our mundane day-to-day lives in our house, and the transition back into being on the road again and touring. We’ve obviously been doing that for a few years now since COVID, but that experience made us relearn what the relationship is between our daily life at home and touring and [figuring out] how can they coexist in a healthy way.
Ironically, the album’s opening track, “Shape,” avoids the traditional shape or structure of a song (all verses, no chorus) while the actual narrative of the song embraces ideas that lean into a sense of purgatory and a nebulous state of being — the very opposite of what would help establish a sense of shape, boundaries, identity, direction, patterns, or truths. What were the mental and emotional motivations that inspired you to take the song in this direction?
AM: It’s like establishing the shape or the pattern in order to separate yourself from it. That’s what a lot of those verses are doing, kind of outlining the things that often make me feel like I’m in a box and I’m trying to get outside of that box. The only way to do it – because there’s no real form to it – is to imagine the parameters, imagine the spaces that it ends up kind of confining you in, in order to step outside of those [boxes]. I think that was the intention with “Shape.”
EF: And the way that “Shape” came into its final form, at least final the way it appears on the record, was a lot of the things that you said about it: It didn’t ever really conform and it got rearranged and had things added and taken away from it so many times, a lot more so than other songs. But it always did feel like the backbone of this record in a lot of ways, which is why it felt really right as the opening track of this record.
AM: If there was a shape to define that song, I’d say it’s a spiral.
How have you fit rituals into your lives and have they helped you maintain a sense of stable continuity as a family and as musicians?
AM: I feel like since having kids, the day has taken so much more form. Because I think that, and Emily [is] really brilliant about this, giving structure to the day is super helpful for them. So that they don’t have to wonder what’s happening, so that they can really pay attention to what is happening. I’ve watched both of our kids blossom in that environment. Emily’s really good about helping to create that and make sure we stick to it. Carrying that on the road has been really helpful, too and something that I didn’t realize I was going to benefit very much from. Because I definitely, when left to my own devices, am like a sheet left out to dry – just flapping in the wind. To have a little bit of structure to the day, and have to enter into these mental zones with the kiddos, has added a lot of mental structure to my existence. I think that’s the biggest thing for me.
And within that, it’s about realizing what the day actually requires of me, instead of what I imagined today to be expecting of me. Finding those real anchors and a little more gravity to the things I’m working on have helped me shed old expectations of myself and what I think I’m supposed to be doing. I think that’s what led us to be okay with changing the band name and changing up some of the sounds and approaching this thing we’ve been doing for a long time in a whole new way.
EF: I think the thing that we are [focusing on] 16 years in is finding where the balance is between freedom and artistic expression, and also just daily life and figuring out how to have those two things like coexist and make each other better and not be in a constant sort of push and pull.
The first verse in “Beyond Meaning” is intriguing. The statement of your “gentle” disposition is nice, but its seemingly conditional nature gives pause — particularly when considering that life is noisy and out of our control more often than not. What is it that you’re trying to say about your own identity and awareness of how you cope with the noise and bustle of everyday living?
AM: I feel like what I was getting at is to view it as though it’s external noise. But it’s actually internal noise. That’s often the thing that keeps me from my peace and keeps me from being gentle. It’s my own defenses and my own self-consciousness that end up creating all of this noise. It paints the external noise in a negative light. When I can control that and remember to keep my own defenses at bay and be open and actually present, the idea that maybe this external noise is not a malicious one keeps me gentle and then often what comes from that is a gentle interaction. So it’s more about controlling the internal noise in order to actually experience the external factors.
Out of the 11 songs on the album, Emily is the primary vocalist only for “Firelight.” Why was Emily the right fit to sing the story of this one song? And more broadly, what went into your shared thought process on when, and for how long, you two would sing together? Is it a purely harmony and arrangement-based decision, or do the emotions of a song influence how each vocal arrangement is structured?
EF: A lot of times it can be pretty cut and dry. If we’re deciding who should sing lead on a song, it might just have to do with the range or the key, where we think it sounds good. Sometimes that plays into it maybe even more than the lyrics or the subject matter. With Andrew doing the songwriting, he’s always been more of the primary lead vocalist. Oftentimes, by the time we’re arranging a tune and finding out how we want to present it, it’s very cemented in his voice. But then a lot of times, there will be tunes that we’re struggling with and we’re not quite finding it. By switching out who’s singing, it reframes the whole song and allows us to not just change the lead vocalist, but to find a whole different zone for the song in terms of what we hear and how it gets arranged and recorded. That was the case with “Firelight.” We had so many different versions of that song over the years leading up to recording – different time signatures, different instrumentation – and that was one of the last ones that came together for this album. Most of it got done after the initial tracking session because we were searching on it for a long time and I think I like it more and more the longer I sit with it, the more I hear it.
AM: Often people do want to know why Emily’s not singing more tunes or why the roles are what they are. But I think it’s really important to shine a little light on what Emily does behind the scenes when she’s not singing. The way she plays rhythm and plays violin or whatever instrument she’s on, it ends up being this anchor for everyone in the band. The way that offers complete structure to what we’re doing and allows everything else to sway around that a little bit, I feel like even when she’s not singing, her musical voice is such a strong presence in the music. I’ve heard her say this before, like when she’s playing violin, she’d rather not sing lead because it’s almost like having to sing with two voices. That became part of the structure of what we’ve been doing all along, not just with the lead vocal. The feel of the song and the rhythm and the chord structure and the flow of it all often is hinged on what Emily ends up doing. I think that’s just as important as her taking a lead vocal.
EF: I’ve really, over the years of us playing music together, come around to enjoying singing lead when we find the song that feels good in my range. But for the most part, I’d rather be singing harmony to Andrew and that definitely brings me just as much, if not more, fulfillment than singing lead on a song.
“Endless Highway (Pt. 1)” and “Sway / Endless Highway (Pt. 2)” leave a much heavier state of reflection than that of “Patterns,” the song you chose as the album’s finale. Were the lighter tone of the music and the lyrics a driving factor for why these last three songs are in this order? Did you want to avoid an ending that leaves the listener with a more uncertain emotional state?
AM: I’ll start off by saying Ryan Gustafson, who produced this record with us, actually ended up coming up with this track order. Having not listened to it that way and then taking Ryan’s perspective on it, it was like being able to listen to these songs in their entirety for the first time. All of a sudden, I was getting feelings from these recordings that I hadn’t gotten yet.
“Endless Highway (Pt. 1)” is a heavier song and talks about a really traumatic event that Emily and I went through and that long drone at the end of it kind of dances around the dread of that. Then into “Sway,” it’s more of a coming out of that [feeling]. How do we peek our heads out of the hole once we’ve gone down and slowly crawl back out? To finally get into “Endless Highway (Pt. 2),” where it feels like a real revelation and a real triumphant part of the record? So, you get to the top of the mountain on this song. But I do believe that while those revelations come, we get to the top of those mountains, everything’s clear, and there’s so much lightness and clarity around us, we still have to wake up the next morning, make coffee, make breakfast, get kids to school, go and run errands and carry that little mountain of revelation with us everywhere we go.
I think that the heaviness and the profoundness of that idea ends up giving way to these smaller, mundane parts of our life. That’s what “Patterns” feels like to me. It’s an admission that if we can hold on to those little revelations and the clarity they offered us, hopefully it’ll keep us light by offering us that little reminder of hope.
EF: Going back to what Andrew was just saying about having these big events or these heavy, emotional things happen, and then having to go on with our lives, and the push and pull of that – there’s frustration and beauty in it. I love the order of those [last few] tracks, because I feel both the “Endless Highways” and “Sway” are songs that were written in the middle of this album being written and there’s a lot of anguish from a lot of different sources in those songs. And then “Patterns” was the last song that was written for the album before we recorded it, so it feels like it has a certain clarity to it. Going down in the trench and making your way back up, even though it’s still really just posing a lot of the same questions [as the beginning of the album], but from a more settled state of mind.
What truths about yourselves and how you view the world have you discovered and accepted since finishing Rituals? How many of the questions you’ve posed through these songs do you feel you’ve managed to settle on answers for?
AM: I don’t think I would often look closely enough at how I was making a person feel, as much as I would look at the way the person was. I think that’s becoming more of my truth these days, just to trust that showing up open-minded with awareness and consciousness, focused on experiencing rather than projecting, is probably the closest to any truths that have come out of writing these songs and getting to the end of this record. The takeaway is that it’s not like we found answers, necessarily.
EF: It’s all just a pursuit, always.
AM: You know, it’s not always about finding answers. It’s about finding out–
What picker doesn’t dream of a bluegrass jam meet-cute? For Andrew Marlin and Emily Frantz, a fateful inauguration day jam in 2009 not only introduced each to their lifelong beloved, but also sowed the seeds for a renowned roots duo – Watchhouse.
In a radio interview with WNCW, Marlin recalls the pair’s chemistry felt immediately apparent, with Frantz’s harmonies lending new life to The Carter Family standard “Bury Me Beneath the Willow,” one of Marlin’s jamming mainstays at the time.
The North Carolina-based duo got right to work, gigging across the backyards and front porches of their Chapel Hill community. Both multi-instrumentalists and vocalists in their own right, Marlin took on the role as primary songwriter/guitarist/banjoist/mandolinist/vocalist, with Frantz augmenting via fiddle/vocals/guitar throughout their articulate arrangements.
By 2011, the pair had released two full-length albums, Quiet Little Room (2010) and Haste Make/Hard Hearted Stranger (2011) under the name Mandolin Orange. Though they would later outgrow the moniker, Mandolin Orange utilized just two instruments to primarily sculpt the duo’s sound – the mandolin and the orange fiddle. With lyrical depth and sensitive instrumental synastry, they established themselves as adept songweavers in the roots scene.
The year 2013 saw the pair signed to Yep Roc Records, a celebrated North Carolina label, starting a distinct shift in their visibility and distribution. Their debut release under the new label that year, This Side of Jordan, earned attention from an expanding national audience, with NPR deeming the record “effortless and beautiful.” They would go on to release three more albums with Yep Roc before shedding the Mandolin Orange title in 2021. Having conceived of the name Mandolin Orange in their early twenties, Marlin remarked that the shift to Watchhouse signaled leaning into intentionality, as the two had “long been burdened by the dichotomy between our band name and the music we strive to create.” As their palates developed, the sense of intimacy in Marlin’s songwriting ripened over time. Their 2019 release, Tides of a Teardrop, an album brimming with tenderness, honesty, and grief, reckoned with Marlin’s mother’s early death.
Propelled to rename the project with similar authenticity, the name Watchhouse emerged after a year of percolating during COVID quarantine. Their subsequent self-titled album, Watchhouse (2021), centered a sonic expansiveness that reached past the confines established and upheld by their moniker of old. Additionally, the duo gained full creative control as their own label, Tiptoe Tiger Music, released the record, partnering with Thirty Tigers for distribution. Layered with novel tones that veer into the vicinity of pop, Watchhouse maintains its makers’ telltale warmth and intimacy while dressing the project in a new glow.
Notably, many of these evolutions occurred in tandem with the birth and growth of Marlin and Frantz’s daughter, Ruby, who was born in late 2018. When asked by BGS back in 2021 about the influence becoming a parent has had on his songwriting, Marlin responded, “I would love to help pave a safe path for my daughter and hopefully inspire some of our listeners to be kind and open up a kind world for her to go into. And that’s made its way into my perspective even in songs where I’m not talking about it.” The songs grapple with a wide range of muses, from parenthood to life during climate change, remaining buoyant despite the weightiness of it all.
That tenor of pondering accompanies Watchhouse into the release of their 2025 album, Rituals, which entered the world on May 30 via Tiptoe Tiger Music/Thirty Tigers. The provocative 11-track collection, true to the duo’s thematic strengths, interrogates the circular nature of humanity, inspecting the relationship between steadfast, cyclical ritual and ever-evolving change.
Of the title track, Marlin states in the song’s press release, “When my circumstances change, who I think I am changes, and then my established rituals and patterns no longer serve me. This song is a leap of faith, a message to anyone feeling like they are struggling to leave a former self behind. We cement ourselves through constant sharing and projection, and it feels like it’s in direct conflict with staying present and evolving. ‘Rituals’ is a song of empathy, both for myself and for others – an acknowledgment of the celebrated nobody in us all.”
Throughout the album, Marlin’s songwriting investigates these themes, brought to life by a stunning range of vocal and instrumental performances, from harmonium to pedal steel to drum kit. Frantz and Marlin strike a vocal blend as warmly entangled as ever; listening to the two sing in harmony feels akin to being mesmerized by a crackling campfire dancing beneath the starlight. Frantz even graces listeners with a rare display of lead vocals on the track fittingly called “Firelight.”
In 2019, following the release of Tides of a Teardrop, Frantz told The Boot, “I like to play more of a supportive role, as someone who’s not doing much of the songwriting and someone who likes to sing harmony more so than lead. It’s always been what I’ve gravitated to – trying to complement the song as honestly as I can without taking too much ownership over it.”
“Firelight,” therefore, feels like a glimmering gem, a highly yearned-for showcasing of Frantz’s lilting vocals. Her timber and sway sift thoughtfully through Marlin’s lyrics of memory and connection, further infusing the album’s universe with a soft haze of timelessness.
The album art adds yet another dimension to these motifs. Its subtle depiction of domestic ritual (clotheslines, coffee machines, mugs, pots, etc.), emulates the familiar tenderness with which Watchhouse posits their profound inquiries. Reckoning with the simplicity of this imagery provokes listeners to explore the songs’ ponderings in the mundane alongside the larger overarching picture. Grown with an immense deal of care and attention, Rituals is a sonically transcendent record that begets deep inner stirrings within its listeners.
With Watchhouse presently in the midst of their album release tour, the entire BGS team is simply elated to name this dynamic pair our Artist of the Month. For all of June, we’ll be resharing articles, interviews, and music from the incredible duo from the BGS archives. Plus, don’t miss our brand new, exclusive interview with Marlin and Frantz and a special edition episode of Basic Folk featuring the duo in conversation with Jacob Sharp (of Mipso), as well. Check out our Essential Watchhouse Playlist below and, if you’re lucky, catch these wondrous performers on the road this festival season!
From the onset of the Chatham Rabbits‘ new record, Be Real With Me, the North Carolina-based husband and wife duo are at a crossroads of sorts.
On one hand, its opening track, “Facing 29,” is filled with the despair of growing older, but on the other it also relishes in the wisdom and knowledge that comes with making it another year around the sun, as one half of the pair Austin McCombie sings of “Grabbing 30 by the strap of his boots.”
That relationship with age, the maturity that (typically) accompanies it, and the people that come and go along the way are a constant through line of the album in what Sarah McCombie describes as a journey of self discovery. “This is very much a millennials record,” she says.
Their fourth album, Be Real With Me is the duo’s most personal and vulnerable yet, a touch that’s already resonated well for them through things like 2020’s COVID-inspired 194-show Stay At Home Tour and an appearance on PBS’ limited series On The Road. “I strongly believe that putting the fans first, instead of the industry or the mystique of being an artist, has been what’s carried us to where we are now and keeps us motivated,” Sarah asserts.
The album is also set to be their most sonically diverse to date, with drum machines, synthesizers, pedal steel, and other new layers being brought into the mix. Ahead of its release, we spoke with the McCombies about the varying means of growth and evolution within it, how a pen pal inspired one of its songs, the family farm that keeps them grounded when not touring, and more.
You mentioned this being a very “millennial” record due to the heavy themes of growing up and growing away from certain people or things. Are there any other big themes that help to tie these songs together?
Sarah McCombie: Another thing that came up a lot when I was writing the songs for this record is the way we often tell others we’re doing the best we can even when we’re not, which is the case on songs like “Collateral Damage” and “Gas Money.” Sometimes you’re just completely maxed out with nothing left to give a situation other than just being a hindrance to yourself.
I thought about that a lot on “Matador,” which I wrote from a place of repeating the patterns of trusting people too fast or getting into situations that aren’t healthy, ignoring red flags along the way. Looking back, if I slowed down or was more mature I never would’ve found myself in those situations in the first place.
It all ties into the overarching theme of growing up, looking yourself in the mirror, and having these real, maturing moments. Sometimes we have to go through tough experiences to come out the other side. Where we’re at now, in our late 20s and early 30s, is when you typically come to grips with a lot of that and being real with yourself, like the album title suggests, so you can move forward in an authentic way.
Speaking of moving forward in an authentic way, your song “Gas Money” came about through an organic exchange with a longtime fan of the band that has evolved into your close pen pal. Care to explain?
SM: In the past, I’ve overcommitted or maxed myself out with friendships due to music, moving, or other circumstances that I can no longer be there for in the way I used to be. So when my pen pal Eve, who’s going to be 87 this year, sent me one of her letters containing a card with an orange sticky note with a $20 bill on it that said “for gas money for the long road home,” I knew I had to get it in a song. It’s such a cool line that reminded me of Patty Griffin’s “Long Ride Home” and turned into a story about wishing you could give more or that a friendship could be more, but you’re just maxed out at your current life stage and cannot possibly give more to that relationship.
Whether it’s pen pals like Eve or just the personal way you interact with your fans in general, it seems like both have gone a long way in pushing your career forward, in some cases almost more than the songs themselves.
SM: I couldn’t agree more. We draw so much inspiration for our music from our fans. None of what we do would be possible without them keeping us going. In addition to “Gas Money,” there’s a song on our 2022 record called “You Never Told Me I Was Pretty” that a fan also inspired.
Regarding “Gas Money,” I think there’s also a beauty in not wanting to over promise and under deliver in a relationship while still wanting to make a connection or stay in touch. And what kinder thing [is there] to do than pop a $20 in the mail in a letter to say, “Hey, I’m reaching out because you mean something to me”? I remember sending Eve the press release for the song when it came out to let her know how she inspired the chorus and to invite her to our next show in Charlottesville near where she lives. She got back to me saying she’d love to, but she’s already committed to a date that night. I thought it was so sweet how she let me down respectfully and had her boundaries about it, because that is something that’s a big part of this record as well.
Another big part of not just this record, but your lives as a whole is the family farm you live on in North Carolina. Mind telling me about that and how your work on it inspires and informs your music?
SM: The farm has been in my family since 1753, but we bought it from my grandfather a couple years ago, right before he passed away. It used to be 640 acres, but is 65 now; we still own the original cabin and home site, horses – it’s like its own entity.
It’s taught me that working really hard feels really good on a blood, sweat, and tears level. Moving fences, hauling water, and other physical work feel great to accomplish, but so do the aspects of planning ahead and working with others to build a vision. It’s very similar to how we collaborate in the band with other musicians or with graphic artists and other creatives. On that note, we work with another couple who are Angus beef farmers to help keep up our property, because it’s so much land and we’re gone so much of the time. No matter what though, the intentional behavior of putting time and effort into something, whether that be our land and the farm or songwriting and interacting with our fans, is definitely a place where you reap what you sow.
In addition to what we’ve already discussed about the record’s themes of growth, I’ve also seen you describe this project as a “new chapter” for the band. How so?
SM: We’re writing a lot more about ourselves and present-day experiences and less about older stories from our family. I went through a big phase earlier on writing Civil War-era ballads, but now we’re getting more comfortable being vulnerable with our fans and writing about our relationships and what we’re individually going through, which is huge.
Sonically, we’ve had the pleasure of working the last two years with Ryan Stigmon, an incredible pedal steel player who now tours with Zach Top. Getting to play with the pedal steel and its ambient sounds overlaid on guitar and banjo was really fun, new, and different for us. We also brought in a keys player on this record and have been touring with one as well. And “Gas Money” is an example of where we used a drum machine for the first time. We were taking a lot of ’90s pop influence from artists like Robyn and Annie Lennox. It’s led to us becoming more aware of how people are coming to see our shows and like our music because of the song, not because of the genre. We don’t care about labels, we just want to write what feels good.
Another new route y’all take on this album is with the song “Big Fish, Small Pond,” the band’s first instrumental. What led to its creation?
SM: Austin came up with the melody and we tracked it completely live in the studio, Small Pond, that we named the song after. We had an octave mandolin, banjo, guitar, and upright bass on it that we jammed on after popping gummies one night sitting around our microphones. It was around midnight or so and we got into this state and played through it a bunch of times until we got the right take.
It never had any lyrics – an instrumental is just something Austin and I had always wanted to try. We both typically just get by playing our instruments and take much more pride in our songwriting, but we still wanted to try our hand at it and challenge ourselves to place in the middle of the record that would be a breather – or intermission – from everything else we’re singing about.
Since you just mentioned that song being like an intermission, tell me about the song sequencing and how that’s helped to shape this record?
Austin McCombie: We’re really diligent about the song order. It’s not a perfect chronological order, but it does start with the first song written for this record, “Facing 29,” which helps to set the tone of getting older. As the record goes on, we also strategically placed the instrumental in the middle as a breather followed by some heavier songs like “Did I Really Know Him,” “One Little Orange,” and “Pool Shark’s Table.” It was a fun way to show how after all this reflection, we can still look in the mirror and acknowledge that we’re young, have problems, and may not be ready to change it all yet. Sometimes you have these heavy conversations where you leave trying to work on yourself and other times you table things because you aren’t ready for it, and that’s fine too.
What has the process of bringing Be Real With Me to life taught you about yourselves?
AM: It’s pushed me to realize I have more musical ability than I thought, in terms of co-producing and playing so many different instruments. In our genre you have the Andrew Marlins and Billy Stringses of the world and other folks who absolutely rip, but Sarah and I don’t really fit into that category. While that’s still true, it’s been fun to push ourselves with this record, which has given me more motivation to continue leaning into our songwriting in a deeper, more meaningful way than just a fun story about our family members. There’s still room for that, but clearly the magic is happening for us when we dig deeper.
SM: It’s taught me how to confront things I’m uncomfortable with and to not hold back as much. For instance, the song “Collateral Damage” starts with me singing, “I want my freedom and I want a baby.” It makes me cringe just saying it, but that song and phrase has wound up being a big talking point amongst fans and one of our most well-received songs during shows.
What do you hope others take away from listening to this record?
SM: I hope this record feels relatable to people in our age demographic and others wanting to look back on that time in their own lives, serving as a reminder that we’re all just trying to figure things out. It may be difficult, but if we can be real, honest and vulnerable with each other then it will ultimately help us be in a better place.
Each year, when we begin the process of curating our year-end round-ups with our BGS and Good Country contributors, our prompt is never about superlatives or true “best of year” selections. We don’t strive to craft these lists based on “shoulds” – what record should be considered the best of the year? What should a list of the best bluegrass, old-time, Americana, and folk music include?
We perhaps couldn’t be less interested in such a list. Are they entertaining to read? Oh, yes. There’s almost no better year-end pastime than quickly scrolling through a “best of” list to find if you agree or disagree, or if your favorite album is included, or if your obvious choice is another’s glaring omission. But the beauty of music – especially these more traditional and folkway-adjacent forms – isn’t objectivity; it’s the intricately personal, particular, and subjective that’s hardest to capture.
Still, each year, as fall transitions to winter, we try our best to capture just that. In 2024, we tasked our BGS contributors with collecting their most favorite, most impactful, most resonant, and most persistent albums, songs, and performances. A quick Google search will reveal dozens of collections of the “most important” music of the year, but rather than wading into that very crowded space we hope our BGS Class of 2024 reflects the most ethereal, intangible, and fantastic music we encountered this year.
As such, our Class of 2024 has ended up with a lovely variety of albums and songs spanning the entire, expansive American roots music scene. You’ll hear picks like troubadours Willi Carlisle and Amythyst Kiah, there are straight-ahead grassers like Bronwyn Keith-Hynes, AJ Lee & Blue Summit, and Brenna MacMillan, and we’ve got buzzworthy acts like MJ Lenderman and Katie Gavin represented here, too. It’s not all bluegrass – it’s not any one thing, really! – but we hope you’ll find plenty to love and, hopefully, much exemplary roots music you might not have found anywhere else.
Scroll to find a playlist version of our BGS Class of 2024 below, plus stay tuned for more year-end collections coming your way, including our favorite musical moments, 2024 Good Country, our music book picks for the year, and more. – Justin Hiltner, editor, BGS and Good Country
Willi Carlisle, Critterland
I didn’t catch on to Willi Carlisle until this year, which might be because he’s only just beginning to garner more broad commercial success – or, if I’m being honest, it could be because I mistakenly assumed he was just another white guy with an acoustic guitar and a microphone. But I was wrong.
Carlisle is a rare storyteller, a poet, an openly queer man from the South, and one of the most meticulous folk songwriters releasing music right now. This year, he dropped his third full-length album, Critterland, underlining his status as all of the above and proving he can masterfully weave old-time, country, folk, and honky-tonk influences into a cohesive style all his own. Whether he’s singing about spiritual existentialism, rural queer experiences, or his many meandering journeys across the U.S., Carlisle’s lyricism is captivating, rich, and alive. If you haven’t already listened to Critterland, don’t let the year roll over without doing it. – Dana Yewbank
Jake Xerxes Fussell, When I Am Called
Jake Xerxes Fussell’s version of the work song “Gone to Hilo” on his 2024 album, When I Am Called, is gorgeous. It reveals part of how he revitalizes and contextualizes new folk songs. Fussell is a man of great learning, but he wears it loosely and with pleasure. “Hilo,” the song, has a number of versions – some are about Hawaii and some are about Peru (a town called Ihru). Some are about a sailor named Tommy, others are about someone named Johnny. Usually it’s Johnny in Hawaii and Tommy in Peru; Elijah Wald’s 2024 book about Muddy Waters suggests that it might not be Hilo or Ihru, but “the Hollow,” and could originate from the vernacular of enslaved people.
Fussell, playing live in Toronto, didn’t interpolate the Hollow, but in a perfect three minutes, traded lines and verses, sometimes about one place, sometimes about the other, in a delicate blending of received wisdom. The smartest and most moving moment highlighting what it means to make music that I heard this year. – Steacy Easton
Katie Gavin, What A Relief
For years now I’ve been making an incredibly silly joke about how “MUNA are my favorite bluegrass band.” With her first solo album, the group’s lead singer and central songwriter, Katie Gavin, brings their resplendent and queer musical universe decidedly into our roots music realms. Producer Tony Berg (Nickel Creek, Molly Tuttle, Amythyst Kiah, Andrew Bird) in the control room and Sara & Sean Watkins as session players are just two of the inputs that make What A Relief delightfully folky, fiddley, and string band-infused. MUNA’s acoustic set at the iconic Newport Folk Festival this summer – and Gavin’s totally solo, side stage Newport performance of much of this material – further solidified the dancey, club-ready group as a true folk ensemble.
At first it was a joke, but I don’t think it’s a joke anymore! Like all of Gavin’s work, these songs are both fun and gutting, poignant while light and convivial. What A Relief is a standout for 2024. – Justin Hiltner
Liv Greene, Deep Feeler
Liv Greene is a huge cry baby – and a liar. She even comes right out and admits it on the first line of her new album Deep Feeler:
“I’m aware I’m a liar. Always lying to myself about my expectations/ I’m aware I’m a crier, and I know. All this crying doesn’t help the situation…”
Greene, who is the Deep Feeler in question, has grown tremendously on her sophomore album. She’s become one of the most promising young artists to create songs that tap right into the center of your heart. This is enormously true on her 2024 album through songs like “Wild Geese,” “Flowers,” and “Made it Mine Too.” She attributes that growth to honestly writing about being queer for the first time. Deep Feeler crawls in and stays with you. Who knew honesty could feel this good? – Cindy Howes
Brittany Haas & Lena Jonsson, The Snake
On their second duo album of fiddle tunes (their first, self-titled collab dropped in 2015), Brittany Haas of Nashville and Lena Jonsson of Stockholm went even deeper into what’s possible in the blending of their native countries’ fiddle traditions. This time, they leaned far more on the Swedish end of the collaboration, emphasizing harmony over chord progressions, exploring the possibilities inherent in “second voice” dueting. They also tried their hand at writing a suite in the style of J.S. Bach – no small feat. The result is an utter delight for music geeks and casual fans alike, as folks can appreciate the languid lines and danceable moments they weave together throughout. – Kim Ruehl
Humbird, Right On
I remember where I was the first time I heard Siri Undlin sing, “There is an old barn on a ghost farm / Hollowed out and filled with stars…” the opening couplet of Humbird’s take-no-prisoners roots rocker “Cornfields and Roadkill.” I will reluctantly admit to some initial resentment that a songwriter who wasn’t me had written a song of such poetic efficiency and political potency. Undlin’s songwriting shines throughout the nine tracks of 2024’s Right On: the quiet earnestness of “Quickest Way” would have been at home on an early Kacey Musgraves album, and “Song for the Seeds” lays out both practical and spiritual methods for liberation, Farmer’s Almanac-style. But the palpable chemistry between musicians playing in a room together is the star of the show here. Humbird is an essential band to listen to as we watch the American empire crumble in real time. – Lizzie No
Katelyn Ingardia, “Silence”
This year, Katelyn Ingardia’s “Silence” got me feeling some type of way. I don’t know what they injected into this song, but I’m quite literally addicted to it. Bad day? I’m playing “Silence.” In a long line for coffee? I’m playing “Silence.” Cooking up girl dinner? I’m playing “Silence.” I scream a little on the inside every time I hear the fiddle kickoff.
The timbre of the song is so nostalgic of an early Union Station or Sierra Hull record, but Ingardia’s performance sets herself apart as something completely fresh and original. The writing, delivery, and production are all impeccable and her voice is like honey. And if all that wasn’t enough for ya, Ingardia just dropped her debut record, entitled Getaway. Some of my favorite tracks are “Lost Love” and “Talk to Me.” Y’all keep an eye on this gal as she continues to blossom into her career so we can all say we were here at the beginning. – Bluegrass Barbie
Cris Jacobs, One of These Days
Within the rock and jam realms, the name Cris Jacobs has been well-regarded and sought-out for many years, especially with his early project The Bridge, a vastly popular Baltimore-based rock ‘n’ soul ensemble up and down the Eastern Seaboard in the early 2000s, only to disband in 2011.
But, for the guitar wizard himself, it was Jacobs’ 2024 release, One of These Days, that really catapulted him into the national scene, especially in the Americana, bluegrass, and folk arenas. Produced by Jerry Douglas and featuring the Infamous Stringdusters as its backing band, the album includes appearances by Billy Strings, Lee Ann Womack, Sam Bush, and Lindsay Lou. At its core, One of These Days circles back to Jacobs’ early bluegrass, folk, and blues influences. But, more so, the record finally tells the rest of the world what a lot of us have already known for some time now – Cris Jacobs is one hell of a talented singer, songwriter, and musician. – Garret K. Woodward
Bronwyn Keith-Hynes, I Built A World
The longtime fiddler for Molly Tuttle & Golden Highway shows off captivating songwriting alongside her impeccable playing skills and impressive vocals on I Built A World, her first album in nearly four years. Featuring the likes of Tuttle, Sam Bush, Dierks Bentley, Brit Taylor, and her husband Jason Carter, the 11-song adventure from Keith-Hynes – up for Best Bluegrass Album at the 67th Annual GRAMMYs – follows her journey from being homeschooled to making a living as an independent musician on her own terms.
Standouts range from the frenetic, longing “Will You Ever Be Mine” to the waltz-like, Dobro-heavy “The Last Whippoorwill,” proving that Keith-Hynes is poised to be a power player in bluegrass and country music for years to come. – Matt Wickstrom
Amythyst Kiah, Still + Bright
The sparkling singer-songwriter Amythyst Kiah sought a different direction this year for her third solo LP. She’d previously shown her ability to deliver emotionally powerful, socially relevant, and poignant material. But she wanted her music to reflect other aspects of her personality in her latest work, both her warm and humorous side, plus her interest in Eastern philosophy and spirituality. All these things are nicely balanced in Still + Bright, with Butch Walker’s production touches incorporating unexpected musical contributions like nifty pedal steel licks or fuzztone guitar riffs, plus Kiah’s own supportive and inspired banjo colorations and edgy lead vocals.
It was a tour de force that was even more impressive in live performance, and Kiah got rave reviews throughout her tour that included highly appreciative responses from the crowds who saw her performances during Americanafest in Nashville. In addition, Kiah’s been part of Our Native Daughters (an all-women-of-color supergroup also featuring Rhiannon Giddens, Leyla McCalla, and Allison Russell). She extended her collaborative outreach on Still + Bright, working with such co-writers and features as punk legend Tim Armstrong, Sadler Vaden (a guitarist-vocalist for Jason Isbell’s 400 Unit), former Pentatonix member Avi Kaplan, and Sean McConnell (a singer-songwriter who’s also written with Brittney Spencer and Bethany Cosentino). All this reveals a dynamic artist willing to continue exploring new areas, while making some of the year’s most intriguing and exciting music. – Ron Wynn
AJ Lee & Blue Summit, City of Glass
In case you have any doubts about the absolute magnitude of AJ Lee & Blue Summit, I will personally fund your one-way ticket to this transparent metropolis. City of Glass presents precisely what its title suggests – an entire ecosphere generated from its contents. The 12 tracks on this album cultivate a moving array of sensibilities, from tender love ballads to humorous narratives to honeyed poetics to grade-A yodeling. Brimming with multi-hyphenate talents, AJ Lee, Sullivan Tuttle, and Scott Gates all contribute lead vocals and songwriting credits to the compilation. Jan Purat’s fiddling serves as a raconteur, always perfectly delivering each narrative. Tuttle’s sister, Molly, even makes the trip from her City of Gold to join in for a tune. All in all, this album is a wondrous sonic journey that anyone would be remiss not to make! – Oriana Mack
MJ Lenderman, Manning Fireworks
From Hurricane Helene-ravaged Asheville, North Carolina, singer-songwriter MJ Lenderman has always been more than solid in the field of twangy indie-rock. Nevertheless, he took a quantum leap forward this year with the spectacular Manning Fireworks album, especially the song that falls in the exact middle of the track list. “She’s Leaving You” is the heart of Manning Fireworks, with verses that sketch out a tawdry Las Vegas hookup. But the part that resonates is the chorus, sung by Lenderman in a raw voice that falls somewhere between deadpan and shellshocked: “It falls apart, we all got work to do/ It gets dark, we all got work to do…” Lenderman repeats the line a half-dozen times and you would, too. If ever a chorus summed up the exhausted anguish of a moment in time, it’s this one. – David Menconi
Brenna MacMillan, Dear Life
Bluegrass, as an industry, operates about a decade behind the curve. As such, it feels more than remarkable when you find a straight-ahead bluegrass artist who’s not only on the cutting edge, but may be the actual blade. Brenna MacMillan’s debut solo album, Dear Life, displays all of the ways this picker, songwriter, singer, content creator, and online personality is pushing the trad envelope and establishing new models for success in the genre. Bluegrass has always felt like a direct-to-consumer business, but never with this level of intention – or with such ease on new media and social media.
Dear Life is a gorgeous collection, filled with MacMillan’s Nashville community and several legends, too – like Ronnie McCoury, Peter Rowan, and Sarah Jarosz. It’s down-the-middle bluegrass, but it’s entirely fresh and unique, with engaging songwriting and often surprising contours and melodies. There are many exciting things about MacMillan’s artistry, but the music is the most entrancing of all. – Justin Hiltner
Andrew Marlin, Phthalo Blue
This quietly-released full-length instrumental album from Watchhouse’s Andrew Marlin was far and away the record I found myself returning to over and over again in 2024.
The name Phthalo Blue refers to the family of blue and green pigments most often used in painting (I had to look this up). At first I wondered why Andrew might choose a title so obscure and hard to pronounce, but the more time I spent digging into both the music and the color family, the more they took me to the same calming, centered place.
I have loved all of Andrew’s non-Watchhouse endeavors over the last few years – from his multiple 2021 releases to Mighty Poplar to his recent release, Wild Rose of Morning with Jordan Tice and Christian Sedelmyer. Hopefully he continues to deliver more of this prolific, purely creative output, seemingly unfettered by commercial expectations; simultaneously reverential to the instrumental traditions it pulls from and inherently perfect for our modern age. – Amy Reitnouer Jacobs
Middle Sattre, Tendencies
Middle Sattre are part of a movement of queer artists brewing down in Austin. Their brand of indie folk is as devastating as it is finely crafted. Tendencies is a painful autobiographical work, presenting vignettes of growing up queer and Mormon. The collective navigate these stories with care and delicate musicianship, building a portrait of sorrow – and a determination to survive. This kind of documentation, of people who stay true to themselves no matter the cost, are essential now more than ever. There is a deep and serious artistry in Tendencies, haunting, beautiful, and impossible to forget. – Rachel Cholst
Aoife O’Donovan, All My Friends
It was difficult to imagine what would follow Aoife O’Donovan’s Age of Apathy, her reflection on living through the pandemic. However, with All My Friends, O’Donovan shows how well her creativity and artistic style can thrive in new musical and lyrical territory. I love how this album includes guest artist, orchestral, and choral collaboration, making the music itself feel as grand and complex as the album’s themes: the women’s suffrage movement and one of its leading figures, Carrie Chapman Catt. O’Donovan’s wordplay is as sharp as ever and she doesn’t shy away from historical details or present-day truths, whether celebratory or sobering. The production and arrangements do everything possible to complement and enhance the impact of the songs, even if that means turning everything down to let the implications of O’Donovan’s words sink in. Be prepared to feel so much, but then want to start it all over again. – Kira Grunenberg
Katie Pruitt, Mantras
Katie Pruitt possesses a voice for the ages. In 2020, the powerhouse made an incredible splash with her debut album, Expectations, a raw and cosmic set that drowned out all others. Her songwriting pen proved to be as potent and razor-sharp as her vocal cords. Four years later, Pruitt still defines the soul-crushing Americana genre on her own terms. With Mantras, she expands her musical sensibilities and stretches her creative muscles in impressive ways. Such moments as “Jealous of the Boys” and “Blood Related” serve as needle-prick moments of sheer vulnerability, woven together with her signature mountain-rattling peaks (“All My Friends”). Pruitt pieces together a tattered photo book, one that gives a glimpse into her very soul. – Bee Delores
Photo Credit: Amythyst Kiah by Photography by Kevin & King; Katie Gavin by Alexa Viscius; Bronwyn Keith-Hynes by Alexa King Stone.
Counting John Prine, Linda Ronstadt, and Wendell Berry among her fans, Laurie Lewis is arguably one of the most diversely influential figures in American roots music culture. She’s a songwriter, fiddler, frontwoman, performer, producer, teacher, and mentor. She’s been nominated for multiple Grammy awards and graced the stage at the Grand Ole Opry. The International Bluegrass Music Association has twice named Lewis Female Vocalist of the Year, and the association’s former executive director, Dan Hays, once called her “one of the preeminent bluegrass and Americana artists of our time and one of the top five female artists of the last 30 years.”
Lewis’s latest release — her 24th full-length record — pairs the artist’s musical mastery with her willingness and courage to face the full spectrum of life’s experiences. From personal grief to environmental despair, Lewis does not shield her eyes from difficult truths. In many ways, the album pays homage to its namesake, trees. When asked why, Lewis notes their tenacity. When something is tenacious, it grips firmly, with determination and persistence. Even in the face of immense challenge and uncertainty, trees abide in their purpose and work — and so does Laurie Lewis.
TREES is a long-play collection of songs that tenderly, earnestly, and sometimes joyfully explore what it means to exist on a vulnerable planet through times of loss and love. Supported by a band of masterful collaborators — Haselden Ciaccio (bass, vocals), Brandon Godman (fiddle, vocals), Patrick Sauber (banjo, vocals), George Guthrie (banjo, vocals, guitar), Tom Rozum (vocals, cover art), Andrew Marlin (mandolin), Sam Reider (accordion), and Nina Gerber (guitar) — Lewis dives into the deep end of sorrow and change with tenderness, authenticity, and Americana storytelling prowess.
In the album’s liner notes, Lewis shares that TREES is the first project she’s made in nearly 30 years without the mandolin accompaniment of her partner Tom Rozum, who recently developed Parkinson’s disease. “This collection represents a difficult transition in my musical life,” Lewis shares. “Think of it as ‘Music Minus One.’”
From bright bluegrass tracks like “Just a Little Ways Down the Road” to the somber invocations of “Enough” and “The Banks Are Covered in Blue,” this album is intricate and complex, much like a healthy forest. The album brings us “Quaking Aspen,” showcasing Lewis’s characteristic lyrical fiddle style, and title track “Trees,” an a cappella bluegrass-gospel ballad that gently yet hauntingly denounces the violence of industrial civilization.
Always looking to the natural world for strength and guidance, TREES is about love — for life, for land, and for people. But love isn’t a purely hopeful or romantic thing; it encompasses both loss and pain, and Lewis gracefully and vulnerably reckons with both on this album.
You just returned from a string of shows playing songs from the new album. Where did you go?
Laurie Lewis: My string of shows was actually mostly a river trip. So I did play every night, but I was mostly spending the days in the canyons… On the Yampa River, which starts in Colorado and goes into Utah and flows into the Green River. It’s a really, really beautiful canyon.
I love that. When you were playing shows, how did it feel to share these new songs with the world?
I’ve been doing a lot of songs from the new album, yeah, and I’m really enjoying that. But also, in any of our sets with my band, we pull out the old ones, too.
Speaking of the older stuff, I listened to your first solo record, Restless Rambling Heart, directly after listening to your newest record from start to finish. The first thing I noticed was that the tempo has downshifted quite a bit from that first release. Does TREES feel more introspective to you than other records you’ve made?
Oh yeah, it definitely does — especially compared to Restless Rambling Heart.
You’ve collaborated with the great poet, writer, and activist Wendell Berry — he asked you to set some of his poems to music. What was that experience like?
It was really fantastic. I’m such a fan of Wendell Berry’s writing. It came about because I was putting out a songbook and the publisher said, “Well, you need to get some blurbs for the back.” I happened to be at a writing workshop and one of the writers there said, “Hey, do you know Wendell Berry?” And I said no, and he said, “Well, he’s a big fan of yours.” [He had been] at a writing conference with Wendell and Wendell asked if he knew me and, you know, small world sort of thing.
So I thought, Well, how do I get in touch with him? Maybe he could write me a blurb, who knows? But [Wendell] famously doesn’t do e-mail or anything like that, so I got his mailing address and wrote him a long-hand letter on one of those yellow legal pads, you know, and I sent it off to him. And lo and behold, he wrote back. He said, “Well, I really don’t know anything about music, and my wife says I can’t carry a tune in a bucket, so hadn’t I better say no to writing a blurb?” And I thought, Well… that’s a question, so it deserves to be answered. So I wrote back and said, “Of course you should say yes, because really, the only prerequisite for saying you like something is that you actually like it. It doesn’t matter that you don’t have a background in music. It’s a personal response.”
And he said, “Well yeah, okay. I’ve been telling people I’m not writing blurbs anymore because too many people ask me, but didn’t I write something in that first letter that you could take out [and use]?” And there was this really nice thing…
So we just ended up having this back-and-forth conversation. He sent me some books. I sent him some CDs. I finally got a chance to meet him, but eventually I just felt like this is a person who is so conscientious, he’s going to respond to whatever I write. And he’s so busy, and he’s got so much stuff to do, I don’t want to bother him anymore. So I kind of dropped the correspondence. I wish I hadn’t, but it felt like the right thing to do. I just didn’t want to be that pestering voice that he felt he had to write back to.
Did he get back in touch with you at some point? Is that how his request came to light?
In the midst of all our back and forth, he sent me a poem in the mail and asked if I wouldn’t mind terribly trying to put it to music. So I did. That was “Burley Coulter’s Song for Kate Helen Branch.” It was quite a puzzle, because it’s not a standard rhyme scheme or anything. I had to make it loop around like a little crooked fiddle tune to make it really work.
Trees aren’t just the theme of this album — they’re growing all over your creative imprint. Your label is called Spruce and Maple Music, for example. What is it about trees specifically that inspires you?
I love the tenacity of trees — the way they just wait ‘til you get out of the way and then come back. … There are too many humans on the earth. We take up way too much space and way too many resources and we’re crowding everybody else out. And by “everybody else” I mean all the animals and plants and everything that also shares our earth. I just feel that, you know, trees are these beneficent beings that just wait and take their time and come back whenever they’re given a chance. They’re responsible for the oxygen we breathe and for taking in the CO2 we release. They’re sort of purifying everything. So it makes me feel very hopeful… If we just get out of the way a little bit, trees can come in and help set the planet right again.
Speaking of trees, the title track on this album is written from such a unique perspective. You literally embody the voice of the trees. How did this idea come about? Had you written from the perspective of the natural world before?
Well actually, “The Maple’s Lament” … I think that was the first time I tried to embody a tree. But I’ve done a few songs like that since. “American Chestnuts,” from my Skippin’ and Flyin’ album is from the voice of the American chestnut trees, which were the main tree along the Appalachian Mountains before the Chinese chestnut blight.
You know, I have, and I thought, Well, this is my song! [Laughs] But I wasn’t inspired by the book.
I personally take comfort in the knowledge that the world will go on spinning without us, despite how powerful we imagine ourselves to be. What sustains you as a sensitive person who feels the weight of what’s happening in and to the world? What carries you through?
Well, that’s that hope – [in] the other beings on the earth, their ability to repair the damage we’re doing. But I don’t hold out a lot of hope for human beings to rein in our excesses. I just don’t. I unfortunately do not see that happening in a timely enough manner to prevent, for instance, desertification of much of the earth’s crust. I’ve never said this stuff in an interview before, but yeah– I do not hold out a lot of hope.
I really appreciate you saying that. I feel like we’re often pressured to feel hopeful, but sometimes it feels more important to just be present with our grief about what’s happening to the world. Where did your deep relationship with and love for the natural world begin?
Oh boy, well, lots and lots of places. From ages three to eight, I lived in Ann Arbor, Michigan, in this new subdivision a block from the country. I loved to ramble in the woods and just see the farms and stuff like that. When my family [moved to] Berkeley, California, it was really a shock for me, and I have to say, Tilden Park probably saved my life. It’s a big regional park that’s up over at the top of the Berkeley Hills. It’s a huge park — you could get lost in it for days. Being able to take the bus to the top of the hill and disappear into Tilden Park when I was a kid was the best thing ever, and it really helped me through a lot. So I would say Tilden was maybe the first place where I really sought refuge in the natural world.
In addition to environmental grief, you’ve spoken about the role personal grief played in the creation of this album, and the presence of these feelings is very tangible throughout. Has some part of you had to practice becoming more vulnerable as an artist over time, or did the process of sharing your pain through your songwriting come naturally?
I have been accused throughout my career of writing songs that are a little bit too easy to figure out, you know, where they’re from. They’re personal songs — people have noted that. [But] maybe they’re putting stuff in them that’s not actually there, and I believe that to be the case on some of the stuff. Writing has always been my best source of communication with the world and I think I’ve always just written from an emotional place. If my songs are deeper now, it’s because events in life are a lot harder when you’re 73 than when you’re 23 or 33 or 43.
One of the more uncommon forms of grief is the grief over the loss of one’s own voice. A few years ago, you lost your singing voice for six months. What was that experience like for you, as someone who’s spent so much of your life using your voice to connect with the world?
It was terrible. It was paresis, [so] the right side of my neck muscles were paralyzed, and I couldn’t move my larynx on the right side. It made singing very, very difficult, until it got to a point where my voice just quit. And I thought, I’m not gonna sing anymore. It took about six months to recover, and it hasn’t completely recovered. My voice is different now.
It was a very difficult time. I went to many doctors, and one said, “Well, you have about a 50/50 chance of getting your voice back.” And I’m going, “Those odds are just not good, you know? It could happen or not — it’s a coin toss.” That freaked me out.
But some amazing things happened in that time. I have an annual gig, the concert I do at the Freight & Salvage here in Berkeley, my hometown, over Thanksgiving weekend. When I had no voice, I didn’t want to give up my night, so I asked my friends to come and sing my songs. I put together a folder of tons of songs and nobody picked the same song. It was amazing. It was the most incredible healing night of music for me. I mean, it was really the best Laurie Lewis show ever and I never opened my mouth except to speak a little bit. It was really lovely. Out of anything, I think that helped me get my voice back.
I’m honestly tearing up a little hearing you talk about that. It really speaks to the power of community. Speaking of community and audiences, who do you write music for? When you’re writing a song or recording an album, do you have a particular listener or audience in mind?
Just myself, really. It’s very selfish. [Laughs] I mean, I just write for myself, what I’m feeling or what I’m observing. … That’s always the starting point. If I think up a story, it’s because I want to tell the story, you know? I want to hear the story. If it’s an emotional thing, it’s because it’s something I’m dealing with or going through. But after the initial thought, I try and use my craft to make the songs better so that somebody can actually understand what I’m singing about and talking about in my music. And that’s really the most gratifying thing, when a listener really responds. It’s just great.
You’ve described your music, particularly on this album, as a way of interpreting the voices of the landscapes you adore. How do you experience or receive the voices of the natural world? How did you learn to listen for these much-needed voices?
I’ve always been a fairly quiet person. I listen more than I speak. I’ve had to actually learn to speak, you know, out loud. But I think I just have an observational approach to the world. I would rather listen and observe people talking to me than jump in and add my own spin or make a lot of noise myself. The same thing is true in my relationship with the natural world. I’m an avid walker and I find that walking and listening and looking in the natural world is my favorite thing to do.
Do you have a favorite song on the album?
I like a lot of them actually. You know, they’re different moods. Speaking of walking, “Just a Little Ways Down the Road” I find to be just so fun to sing and play. And of course, “Enough.” It’s heart-wrenching for me. It’s still hard for me to play that song in public. It requires a really different audience. It’s not a festival song. It’s much quieter, so I hold it back a lot. I just love the sound of the instruments on that cut. But I really like them all, from “Just a Little Ways Down the Road” to “Rock the Pain Away.”
It depends on the mood too. If I talk about John Prine and I sing that song [“Why’d You Have to Break My Heart?”], that really goes over well with audiences. I truly appreciate that people connect with that song.
Do you have a favorite tree?
[Laughs] No. I do not have a favorite tree.
Fair enough. [Laughs]
The California buckeye – I think it’s the prettiest little tree ever. But then I see another, you know? I was just out in Colorado among the junipers. That was the main tree alongside the river, junipers and cottonwoods. Every one of those trees was astoundingly beautiful – and so tenacious.
Is there somewhere special close to home where you’ve been going recently to be with the trees?
Well, yes. I stick around home quite a bit, because I have a lot of caregiving to do with my partner. We had to cut down a tree in our yard a couple of years ago and I was very, very sad about cutting down this great big old blackwood acacia. But we had to do it – it was gonna fall over and wreak havoc. But it cleared the way for me to view these two enormous birch trees that are like four-stories high in the neighbors’ yard. Those two trees are just remarkable, through all the seasons. They’re so graceful, and they change so much. I’ve been enjoying those trees a lot from the kitchen.
And Tilden Park is still my go-to. It’s five minutes up the road, so I can get out and walk amongst the oaks and the laurels and, unfortunately, eucalyptus, which is an invasive fire-hazard tree around here, but they’re still beautiful.
It’s so special that you still get to spend time in the same place that meant so much to you as a kid. There’s really so much we could talk about, but is there anything else you’d like to share about the album?
I did it mostly with a very small group of fantastic musicians – my bandmates Hasee Ciaccio on bass, Brandon Godman on fiddle, Patrick Sauber on banjo, and then George Guthrie also on banjo and some guitar. It’s just been really great working with these wonderful people. What they bring to the songs and how they help shape the music, they really are part of the fabric of what makes this album what it is, and it feels important to me to share that.
Year-end lists can be so problematic – pitting distinct sounds and music against each other, peddling absolutes, attempting objectivity in a demonstrably subjective field. Each year, as we consider the music that impacted us over the course of twelve months, we try to challenge ourselves and each other, as BGS contributors, to think outside the year-end round up “box.”
For the BGS Class of 2023, our intention is to highlight music, songs, albums, and performances that have stuck with us, or that we know will continue to stick with us into the future. We wanted to deliberately look beyond the music and creators that merely have the resources, networks, and access to reach us; we wanted to utilize genre as a checkpoint or touchstone, but never as a blanket criterion; we wanted to broaden what forms of media or formats are included; and overall, we wanted to attempt a holistic look at what a year of listening, learning, watching, and hearing can look like to this particular group of people.
You’ll find ravishing and large indie folk, earnest and literary – and raucous and silly – bluegrass, legendary legacy artists and brand new lineups, soundtracks and live shows, and more. Ultimately, whatever the year, we always want our retrospective lists to be a starting point, a springboard, for our readers, followers, and for roots music fans. This is not the end-all, be-all “Best of 2023” list. Instead, it’s a reminder of the music that scored a year absolutely filled to bursting with excellent, exemplary, ecstatic roots songs, albums, and shows.
boygenius in Pittsburgh, June 2023
When I saw boygenius this summer, I was milktoast about the whole thing going into it. As soon as I arrived, I realized I was surrounded by young people – and not just any young people: All the beautiful freaks were out for Lucy, Julien, and Phoebe. The energy was palpable and something that I have not experienced in over 20 years. Everyone knew every word. They were FaceTiming friends who cried and sang along remotely with these heroes on stage. It was inspiring!
boygenius feels like an important band. I so wish they had been around when I was an outcast teenager feeling such confusing, wild emotions. Music has a way of helping the world make sense. boygenius radiates communion and it felt like an honor to be a part of their world. – Cindy Howes
Caitlin Canty, Quiet Flame
My favorite bluegrass album of the year is often an album that, through no fault of its own, ends up receiving little to no bluegrass radio airplay or IBMA Awards recognition, and as I listened to Caitlin Canty’s Quiet Flame over and over this year, I couldn’t help but expect it would end up criminally underrated by the general bluegrass community. It’s made by bluegrass pickers – Canty assembled Chris Eldridge (who also was the project’s producer), her husband Noam Pikelny, Brittany Haas, Paul Kowert, Sarah Jarosz, and Andrew Marlin for her band – and as a result Quiet Flame, more often than not, is just an unencumbered string band album that’s as much bluegrass as it is Americana and singer-songwriter folk. But while Mighty Poplar, with a similar lineup of folks, takes off in bluegrass circles, it raises an eyebrow that this impeccable, heartfelt, and complicated set of songs hasn’t seen the same trajectory. Not that that was Canty’s goal – it’s obvious her priorities in music making are grounded and community-minded, part of why this album is such a stunner. “Odds of Getting Even,” co-written with another BGS favorite, Maya de Vitry, is one of the year’s best songs, bar none. – Justin Hiltner
A Homeplace Pilgrimage to Earl Scruggs Music Festival, August 2023
L: Nina Simone’s homeplace in Tryon, NC. R: Earl Scruggs’ homeplace in Boiling Springs, NC. Both photos by Justin Hiltner.
BGS once again co-presented the Earl Scruggs Revue tribute set hosted by Tony Trischka at Earl Scruggs Music Festival, held just outside of Shelby, North Carolina at the Tryon International Equestrian Center in August. On my drive to the festival grounds, I made stops in Tryon proper, to visit Nina Simone’s childhood home, and also in Shelby, to visit the Earl Scruggs Center and to drive by both of the Scruggs homeplaces just outside of Boiling Springs, North Carolina. It was stunning to visit both homes on the same day, to realize the interconnectedness of so much of American popular music. Simone grew up with a view of the Blue Ridge Mountains from her front porch nestled in one of their hollers, yet we place Scruggs as an Appalachian musician and not Simone?
The festival and Scruggs Center, for their parts, did an excellent job of demonstrating how broad, varied, and intricate American roots music is, even while focusing closely on bluegrass, string band, and Americana music. Listeners of our podcast, Carolina Calling, will know how much BGS loves North Carolina music history – the show features episodes on both Scruggs and Simone. Seeing that history in person, while heading to a first-class, banjo-heavy festival was a favorite musical moment of this year, for sure. – Justin Hiltner
East Nash Grass, Last Chance to Win
East Nash Grass seems to be all the buzz on the bluegrass circuit these days and those who have ventured to Dee’s Country Cocktail Lounge on any Monday night since 2017 can certainly understand why. The band’s long-standing residency at the Madison, Tennessee dive bar has taken them from a weekly pick-up band to performing at the Grand Ole Opry, the Ryman Auditorium, and at bluegrass festivals across the U.S. Their sophomore album, Last Chance to Win, captures the band at their very best (albeit, without their lovable stage antics). Following a 2023 IBMA nomination for Best New Artist, it won’t be a surprise if we see this record, and these musicians, sweeping awards in 2024 and beyond. – Thomas Cassell
Alejandro Escovedo at Cat’s Cradle Backroom, Carrboro, NC, November 2023
There are countless good reasons why you should make a point of seeing the Texas punk/soul godfather if he’s ever playing anywhere near you. But what might be the best reason of all is it’s a lead-pipe cinch that everyone in your town worth hanging out with will be there, too – onstage as well as in the crowd. Escovedo was among a dozen stars drawn to the North Carolina Triangle for an all-star “Nuggets” tribute show overseen by Lenny Kaye in November. So, he came a night early and played a solo show, too, ably supported by local luminaries Lynn Blakey and Pinetops/The Right Profile guitarist Jeffrey Dean Foster. The love in the room was palpable on deeply moving originals like “Sister Lost Soul” and “Wave Goodbye.” And when Kaye and R.E.M.’s Peter Buck came on for a closing Velvet Underground cameo of “Pale Blue Eyes” and “Sweet Jane,” the circle was complete. – David Menconi
Ben Garnett, “Open Your Books” (featuring Brittany Haas and Paul Kowert)
Before I’d listened to the complete #BGSClassof2023 Spotify playlist and realized this track was one of our first additions, the app kept recommending “Open Your Books” to me – and it’s not hard to see why. From guitarist and composer Ben Garnett’s debut album, Imitation Fields, the track features bassist Paul Kowert and fiddler Brittnay Haas and is an example of what bluegrass music can be, and what traditionally bluegrass instruments can do.
The tune opens slowly, with guitar and mandola – provided by Molly Tuttle & Golden Highway’s own Dominick Leslie. Fiddle swells, orchestral arrangements, and dreamy acoustic production make for a piece that feels distinctly intellectual. It’s chambergrass, but it’s also highly listen-able. While there’s a strong melodic thread throughout, the surrounding instruments and their players are allowed to wander off up the guitar neck, throwing in trill-y banjo licks, and detouring outside traditional fills and solo styles. The record was produced by Chris Eldridge and also features Matthew Davis on banjo and additional guitar from Billy Contreras. I’d recommend this tune to low-fi lovers, roots music fans, and anyone looking for a chilled out moment. It’s perfect for an introspective drive or a rainy winter day spent drinking hot tea at the window. – Lonnie Lee Hood
Alice Gerrard, Sun to Sun
Never, over the course of her lifelong career in music, has Alice Gerrard stopped, having reached her musical destination. She has challenged herself, time and time again, not simply for reinvention’s sake, but because she is a consummate old-time and bluegrass musician, someone so solidly bitten by the string band bug that making music requires that constant movement, that aspirational looking into the future, girded by songs of the past. But Sun to Sun, her latest – and perhaps final – album, features songs decidedly of the present. A synthesizer of traditional art forms, Gerrard takes textures and colors we relate to “authenticity” and leverages them to serve the messages in these tracks. Aging, mortality, justice, apartheid, gun violence, community are all woven into this collection. Alice is their nexus point, around which the entire project revolves and reflects the cosmic light she continues to shine on all of us – and on roots music subjects too often hidden in the shadows. – Justin Hiltner
A Good Year for Soundtracks – Asteroid City, The Holdovers, and More
Between the Writers Guild and Screen Actors’ strikes, 2023 was a weird year for the entertainment industry. But for those releases that did make it to the screen, it was a great year for movie soundtracks, especially for roots music fans.
First up, Wes Anderson’s western sci-fi Asteroid City. In addition to the usual cadre of Anderson’s cast, the film was peppered with classic country and bluegrass recordings from the likes of Tex Ritter, Slim Whitman, Bill Monroe, and Johnny Duncan & the Blue Grass Boys (you read that right). That’s to say nothing of the incredibly catchy original ear worm, “Dear Alien (Who Art In Heaven)” which felt as classic as those twentieth century tunes of the frontier written decades ago.
Capping off the year was Alexander Payne’s The Holdovers, a beautiful ode to a particular style of 1970s filmmaking that stars Paul Giamatti. Set in snowy western Massachusetts over a lonely winter break in 1970, the soundtrack plays like an old, soft blanket – familiar and warming. Newer tracks from Damian Jurado and Khruangbin weave seamlessly alongside ‘70s AM gold and Mark Orton’s pensive, folksy score. But the real standout of this soundtrack is a rediscovery of British folk artist Labi Siffre. His music has been shamefully overlooked in U.S. folk canon. Hopefully this movie can help start to rectify that.
Finally, it would be criminal if I didn’t mention the key placement of Indigo Girls’ “Closer to Fine” in the biggest hit of the year, Barbie. Here’s to another generation of young women finding themselves in Amy and Emily’s music. Thanks, Greta Gerwig. – Amy Reitnouer Jacobs
Kristen Grainger & True North, “Extraordinary Grace”
Take the anvil from my chest…
I am gasping for breath at this opening line. In her extraordinary, intimate voice, Kristen Grainger is pleading, letting us know she has lost hope. And we are right there with her. Whether we believed salvation came from the church or the Voting Rights Act, we believe no more. We are a fractured world, and it seems there is no bringing us together. Kristen’s melodies pull you in as much as her words, and I sometimes wake with this haunting song emerging from my dreams. Her bandmates’ graceful harmonies and instrumental accompaniment support the stunning words.
I once believed in extraordinary grace I put my faith in saints and saviors In the mirror, I can’t bear to see my heroine Killing time until time returns the favor.
Still, there is cause for hope: the promise of more music from True North. – Claire Levine
Angélique Kidjo at New Orleans Jazz & Heritage Festival, April 2023
“We can’t hear! We can’t hear!” Not what a performer wants to hear an audience chanting – though Angélique Kidjo didn’t hear it for a couple of songs at the New Orleans Jazz & Heritage Festival in April. She was giving it all, singing and dancing with vigor and verve, as she does. But the Benin-born star’s voice and all but the drums and percussion from her band were not reaching the crowd, that had already waited out a 45-minute rain delay. Finally, the stage crew got the message, but it still took some time to get things working. When they did, Kidjo betrayed no frustration – just pure, joyful release as she packed a full set’s worth of spirit into the handful of songs she could squeeze in the remaining time slot, including a few highlights from her re-infusion of Talking Heads’ Remain in Light album. Closing with her idol/mentor Mariam Makeba’s signature “Pata Pata,” she was radiant, as was everyone who stuck around to see and hear her. – Steve Hochman
The Lemon Twigs, Everything Harmony
This album is, without reservation or exaggeration, one of the most beautiful records I have heard in my entire life. Building on inspiration from ‘60s/’70s pop-rock (think the Byrds,Todd Rundgren, the Beach Boys, the Flamin’ Groovies), the Lemon Twigs achieve a layered delicacy of nostalgia and innovation. Their creative impulses are so detailed, articulate, and inspired that the entire album feels unfathomable; how could music reach such timelessness that it tickles at the preterhuman? Brothers Michael and Brian D’addario share the songwriting credits for pieces that feel distinctly matured from much of their earlier work. They’ve pared down the theatrics, tightened the sprawling lyrics, and created from a place that strikes a quintessential balance of self and influence. Their result is something oceanic – music that calls upon its ancestry in a way that is pervasive, striking, and sublimates the query of eternity. – Oriana Mack
Ronnie Milsap’s Final Nashville Concert, October 2023
Ronnie Milsap’s final Nashville concert will resonate with me for many years to come, both because of the multiple memorable performances and because it represented the best of country music from the standpoint of diversity and inclusion. Various performers from across the musical spectrum covered Milsap hits, with songs from every arena – honky-tonk and straight country tearjerkers, reworked doo-wop, R&B, and pop classics, love songs, and slice of life retrospectives. The roster of artists who displayed their love and affection for Milsap’s music crossed racial, gender, and sexual orientation lines, and it was also great to see the legend himself conclude the proceedings. While the Nashville audience and community will miss Milsap’s performances, this last outing provided plenty of wonderful moments and lots of great music that will never be forgotten. – Ron Wynn
New Dangerfield’s Debut at IBMA Bluegrass Live!, September 2023
For years a growing number of Black musicians have entered the trad scene and reclaimed Black traditions key to its development and evolution. Their work has run the gamut from preservation to experimentation. Audiences at this year’s IBMA Bluegrass Live! were introduced to a new Black string band that does it all: New Dangerfield. Made up of powerhouses Tray Wellington, Kaïa Kater, Jake Blount, and Nelson Williams, New Dangerfield has, in their own words, “risen to carry the torch.” In their premiere performance the band delivered an eclectic set of early jazz, early blues — and even a cover of R&B musician H.E.R’s “Hard Place,” led by Kater’s deliciously lush vocals. Each member, proficient instrumentalists in their own right, also showed off their technical chops and drew whoops from the crowd. Their set was something historic, and I’m excited to see what comes next from New Dangerfield. – Brandi Waller-Pace
Railbird Festival, June 2023
Set in the heart of Lexington, Kentucky, under a deep-red Strawberry Moon, the 2023 Railbird Festival was an under-the-radar masterstroke, highlighting the confluence of roots music and the mainstream. Held June 3 and 4 on the spacious lawn of The Infield at Red Mile, a sold-out crowd of 40,000+ enjoyed a non-stop lineup of performers from across the “Americana” pantheon, expertly curated and spread out over three stages. With 32 acts in total, country, rock, folk, bluegrass and more were all represented, as headliners Tyler Childers and Zach Bryan topped a bill including Charley Crockett, Whiskey Myers, Morgan Wade, Nickel Creek, Molly Tuttle & Golden Highway – even Weezer and Sheryl Crow. Combine all that with a well-thought out fan experience and an off-the-beaten path vibe, and the weekend was an ideal kickoff to festival season. – Chris Parton
Sam Shackleton at the Horseshoe Tavern, October 2023
Country fandom has always been ideological, but in the last few years the genre’s politics have felt plainer – clear villains and clear heroes, but also messy interior politics. Through this time, I’ve mostly been listening to folk music far away from the fighting at home, from musicians like Sam Shackleton, a genius singer and banjo player from Scotland. He was supporting the Mary Wallopers, the radical Irish party band, in Toronto in October. Shackleton was great, working the audience, singing his songs, and classic folk tracks. The crowd was restless, the beer he was offered on stage seemed pro forma, but he tried. There was a version of “All You Fascists (Are Bound To Lose)” that gave me hope for a few minutes. We step out for a smoke, and Shackelton is on the patio, nursing a lager. I tell him I loved the show and that I wanted vinyl. He hugs me and thanks me. Walking back in, the room is filled with Irish expats who are singing along to the Wallopers in ways that feel a little hostile. I leave early, going for Chinese food. These couple of hours were country/folk in 2023 for me – inclusive, exclusive, hand shakes, hugs, and isolation – plus enough physical/emotional distance from the world that I didn’t ask exactly how the fascists would lose. – Steacy Easton
Sleeping in the Woods Festival, May 2023
At a time when money in the music industry is at an all time low, and expenses are at an all time high, I have immense gratitude for anyone starting new community projects to showcase and uplift musicians and songwriters. I was lucky enough to get to be a part of Nicholas Jamerson’s Sleeping in the Woods Festival in Cumberland, Kentucky in May of 2023, and this event makes my best-of list. The festival bills itself as songwriter specific and showcases many lesser known Kentucky songwriters and bands. The strategy is to create a listening environment and bring together a Southern audience hungry for more straight-shooting roots music and hard hitting lyrics after becoming fans of Tyler Childers, Sturgill Simpson, and of course, Jamerson himself. After a successful first year, the festival is poised to grow exponentially and become a beloved annual event for all of those involved. – Rachel Baiman
Billy Strings at Bourbon and Beyond, September 2023
After five years of programming the BGS stage at Bourbon & Beyond, the Louisville-based festival has become something of a homecoming for our whole team. But nothing was more special than this year, when we got to see Billy Strings headline the main stage in front of over 50,000 people. It seems like just yesterday (in reality it was more like 2018) that Billy played our own stage inside the Bourbon Tent, a memory made all the sweeter by his surprise appearance this year on our stage during Michael Cleveland’s set. Hopefully it’s one of many happy returns to B&B for Billy, his fans, and BGS for years to come. – Amy Reitnouer Jacobs
Sunny War, Anarchist Gospel
Nobody sounds like Sunny War. As her profile has risen over the past decade, Sunny has held onto her punk rock politics and direct lyricism, grounding her artistry in the blues. Listening to one of her songs is like looking at a diorama of a nearby planet, similar to our own, but with none of human society’s bullshit. 2023’s Anarchist Gospel features Americana heavyweights David Rawlings, Jim James, Allison Russell, and Chris Pierce, but always sounds exactly like Sunny. Her hypnotic guitar work and precise songcraft shine. Her vocals walk a fine line between eerie and inviting. And at the end of a year when riot grrl aesthetics have gone mainstream, Sunny War is a rare reminder of what the real thing sounds like. – Lizzie No
Photo Credit: Angélique Kidjo by Fabrice Mabillot; Billy Strings by Christopher Morley; boygenius byMatt Grubb.
In Their Words: “Sometimes songs I’ve written become less relevant and relatable for me over time, but this one has seemed to stick and grow with me, such that I reach for it during live shows, often as a closer. I’m grateful for the chance to re-present it with two of my favorite musicians!
“This version of ‘Young Love’ was recorded live in Knoxville with Andrew Marlin and Josh Oliver of Watchhouse. They have such distinct voices, vocally as well as on their instruments, and it’s amazing to hear this song transformed under their influence. Andrew and Josh helped launch my solo career with the album Shame, and just like this song I have continued to love their music and learn from them over time.” – Rachel Baiman
Track Credits: Written by Rachel Baiman. Performed by Rachel Baiman, Andrew Marlin, and Josh Oliver. Engineered by Kaitlyn Raitz and Ben Plotnick. Mixed by Sean Sullivan. Mastered by Jon Neufeld.
Photo Credit: Natia Cinco Video Credits: Owen Scarlett Productions, Owen Scarlett and Charissa Kroeger
Somehow, it’s July and more than half the year has already blown by! In many ways it feels like 2023 is still brand new, despite the calendar saying otherwise and the overabundance of amazing music that has soundtracked the past (nearly) seven months. With many more albums and songs yet to come, we wanted to reflect on the music that has stuck with us and become new favorites of ours since January. It’s a stout list – if we do say so ourselves.
We want to hear from you, too! What albums, songs, and artists have been the underscoring of your 2023? Who’s missing from our list?
Fiddler, songwriter, and activist Rachel Baiman has been a part of the BGS family for quite a while now, but recently she joined the ranks of our contributors, as well. (See her writings here.) Her new album, Common Nation of Sorrow, has been a standout for the entire team since it arrived in late March. Though she’s always helmed her creative and musical projects, in many capacities, this record marks the first time she’s been the sole producer on one of her own releases. Her fingerprints are indelible and striking; challenging and convicting. It’s introspective, but expansive.
boygenius, the record
An album so nearly perfect we just have to include it, even though some may believe its connections to roots music are tenuous at best. (We disagree, of course– and wrote an entire list of folk bands for boygenius fans to prove our point.) Julien Baker, Phoebe Bridgers, and Lucy Dacus somehow, against the odds, rise above the simple sum of their parts while reminding of former folk supergroups like Trio (that is, Dolly, Linda, and Emmylou) and Crosby, Stills, Nash, and Young.
Caitlin Canty, Quiet Flame
With its acoustic aesthetic and simple, string band underpinnings, Caitlin Canty’s Quiet Flame is a surprise superlative among bluegrass records released in 2023. Her past albums aligning more with folk, Americana, and singer-songwriter traditions, Quiet Flame was produced by Chris Eldridge and though the production values were quite intentional, the bluegrass result was more a happy byproduct than a deliberate destination. Filmmaker and playwright Noah Altshuler spoke to Canty about the project for a recent feature.
Brandy Clark, Brandy Clark
The BGS team has been fans of country singer-songwriter Brandy Clark for quite some time, so it’s more than a little bit enjoyable to watch as more and more listeners and fans discover Clark. And they have so many pathways to find her, whether through her hit, Tony Award-winning Broadway musical, Shucked, her collaboration with Brandi Carlile – who produced the new, self-titled album – or her many charting hit songs. There’s a point of view on Brandy Clark that we never knew we missed before, a maturity that she never lacked, but she has certainly distilled. It shines in its many spotlights. (Watch for a feature on Clark coming soon to BGS.)
Michael Cleveland, Lovin’ of the Game
Michael Cleveland has won IBMA’s Fiddle Player of the Year award more times than any other fiddler in the organization’s history. His obvious adoration for the instrument – and the life it has led him to – is front and center on his latest album, Lovin’ of the Game. Though he’s collaborated with virtuosos like Chris Thile, Béla Fleck, Billy Strings, and many more over the past handful of years, his perspective remains markedly down-to-earth. As is on display in our Artist of the Month interview from March.
Cat Clyde, Down Rounder
In mid-February, we premiered the music video for the lead single off Canadian alt-folk singer-songwriter Cat Clyde’s album, Down Rounder, and this collection has stuck with us since. For those of us with an affinity for a good red-dirt or red-rock hike, and for western, nomadic, cowboi (that is, all-gendered cowboys) aesthetics – since long before the recent rise of yeehaw culture – this album will provide such perfect daydream scoring. It’s ideal music for journeys internal as well as external.
Iris DeMent, Workin’ On A World
An album of hope – but zero toxic positivity. Iris DeMent knows how it feels to be burnt out, bedraggled, exasperated, defeated. But hope is a radical act and, in those dark moments where hope seems so ethereal and distant, existence is a radical act. The songs of Workin’ On A World never feel preachy or condescending, even while they remind of weeknight church – all-denominational, of course – and raising voices together in the face of oppression and fascism. DeMent isn’t just workin’ on a world, she’s imagining one, too. It’s our job to bring it to fruition, even if we never see it.
Amanda Fields, What, When and Without
Amanda Fields’ voice is impossibly tender, but do not let your guard down or it will bite you just the same. Especially when delivering a bittersweet, southwest Virginia-tinged lyric equally at home played by a bluegrass band or, like on What, When and Without, backed bya vibey, homespun, alt-country sound bed. For a voice and perspective as traditional as her’s, Fields still finds endless new ground to break and lines to color outside of. Her collaboration with guitarist and producer Megan McCormick (who has new solo music coming this year, as well) finds Fields’ musical output climbing to even higher levels of realization, innovation, and professionalism.
Ashby Frank, Leaving Is Believing
Mandolinist, singer, and songwriter Ashby Frank is in the running for IBMA’s Best New Artist award this year, and while reaching the second ballot in this category is certainly a well-deserved recognition, it’s a bit… inaccurate! Frank is not exactly a “newcomer,” as he has been a near permanent fixture in bluegrass, country, and Nashville for the greater part of two decades, performing with outfits like the Likely Culprits, the infamous Darrell Brothers, Special Consensus, Mountain Heart, John Cowan, and so many more. He’s even subbed regularly with the Earls of Leicester – and he’s a hit bluegrass songwriter, too, with charting cuts by Junior Sisk, Dale Ann Bradley, and more. His emerging solo career is where he’s truly hitting his stride, though, and in real time, with this outstanding “debut” on Mountain Home Music.
Brittany Haas & Natalie Haas, HAAS
Genre is dead, we know, but if it hadn’t already been dead, chambergrass, classical-meets-fiddle, string band music such as this would have killed it. It’s a glorious musical territory and is no better inhabited by anyone in this particular scene than sisters Natalie and Brittany Haas, who return to collaborating with one another in an “official” format on HAAS. Sometimes it’s easy to lose sight of just how toxically masculine improvisational, jammy, virtuosic bluegrass and chambergrass have become. An album like HAAS quickly grounds this aesthetic – so far outside the realm of similar more performative, self-indulgent projects – and reminds just how much newgrass and chambergrass are still out there to be discovered and made.
Jaimee Harris, Boomerang Town
A glut of queer country records are being released at this particular moment in time and Jaimee Harris’ Boomerang Town stands out in a niche that’s becoming more and more crowded. No one welcomes this quick change in country music more than ourselves – and Jaimee, too, we’re sure – but with more voices to be heard, one like Harris’ certainly cuts through. Boomerang Town isn’t exactly autobiographical, but it drips with Harris’ lived experiences and plays as if you’re sitting quietly with her, alone in her room, as she picks each intro on her favorite guitar and every track grows into a fully-realized number. It’s a not-so-idyllic snapshot of a hometown, like country does so well, and, like queer folks the world over know so intimately, the exact hometown really doesn’t matter.
Brennen Leigh, Ain’t Through Honky Tonkin’ Yet
We hope Brennen Leigh, a multi-hyphenate picker, performer, and songwriter, is never through honky tonkin’. With her latest Signature Sounds recording Leigh has raised the bar for honky tonk sounds – a bar that should never be re-lowered. Equally at home as a “sideman,” a bluegrass picker, a songwriter (with cuts by Lee Ann Womack and others), and as an in-town Nashville picker, Leigh typifies the country everyman archetype – or, perhaps, the country “renaissance man” archetype. Or both! – while doing it better than nearly everyone else in the game, currently. With Nashville’s best on the album’s roster – as band members or featured artists – Ain’t Through Honky Tonkin’ Yet is a gem.
Darren Nicholson, Wanderer
Mandolinist Darren Nicholson recently left Balsam Range, the North Carolina bluegrass group for which he’s known, after criss-crossing the country – and the globe – with the IBMA Award-winning and Grammy-nominated band for decades. He announced his departure from Balsam Range in 2022 and his first release as a solo artist, Wanderer, is a huge success. Nicholson stakes out and lays claim to his own brand of bluegrass – which is rooted equally in the high country of Western North Carolina (Nicholson hails from Haywood County) and in an effervescent joy. Besides his old-time influenced, traditional mandolin picking, his smile and laugh might be his most recognizable traits. The humor he relishes in life comes forward in his playing, too. Wanderer is a harbinger of many fine solo projects to come from Darren Nicholson.
Nickel Creek, Celebrants
Nickel Creek returned and millennial roots-music fans everywhere rejoiced, joining in the Celebrants celebration. After a nearly ten-year wait since 2014’s A Dotted Line, Celebrants seemed to once again impossibly capture the Nickel Creek lightning in a bottle. A Dotted Line felt mature and confident, self-assured but not cocky. On Celebrants, the throughline could be described as gentleness and gratitude; perhaps from Thile and Sara Watkins both becoming parents in the interim. Nevertheless, Celebrants would have been one of the most notable albums released this year – and for good reason – even without these subtle growth points and nuances.
Mighty Poplar, Mighty Poplar
If ever a bluegrass, old-time, and/or string band supergroup convenes with a pun for a name and we do not react with unabashed glee, please check the collective team BGS pulse. Mighty Poplar checks all of the boxes and then some. Yes, with its particular convention of pickers this album could be seen as a “return” to bluegrass, but that’s perhaps the most boring angle on this fascinating record. It’s not merely a return to the format that musically birthed each of these instrumentalists (Chris Eldridge, Greg Garrison, Alex Hargreaves, Andrew Marlin, and Noam Pikelny), it’s a demonstration in bluegrass not just as an aesthetic and tradition, but bluegrass as expression.
Molly Tuttle & Golden Highway, City of Gold
Though we still have a couple of weeks until City of Gold drops, Molly Tuttle is our current Artist of the Month and we would be remiss to not include the most buzzed about bluegrass album of the year on this list. Singles “El Dorado” (above), “Next Rodeo,” and “San Joaquin” are out now, tempting and teasing another record influenced so heavily by Tuttle’s growing up in the bluegrass scene of California and the West Coast. Her band, Golden Highway (Bronwyn Keith-Hynes, Dominick Leslie, Shelby Means, and Kyle Tuttle) are featured heavily on City of Gold, for which Jerry Douglas returns to producing. Turns out it’s been Molly Tuttle & Golden Highway at the end of the rainbow this whole time!
Kassi Valazza, Kassi Valazza Knows Nothing
Kassi Valazza Knows Nothing, but she does know the power and magic of live recording. Her brand new album, tracked with backing band, fellow Portland, OR-based artists TK & the Holy Know-Nothings, was all tracked live, including vocals. As a result, the entire record buzzes with energy, whether toe-tapping or subdued. Sometimes, it’s a calm, warm, and honeyed patina that feels solemn and poetic, but ultimately, the entire collection is danceable. It’s tear-in-your-beer country and boot-scootin’ country – but that doesn’t make it simplistic. Which might be surprising, from someone who famously knows nothing.
Sunny War, Anarchist Gospel
Sunny War’s latest album, Anarchist Gospel, finds her sound having grown and expanded, while still held together by the most fantastic of glues: Her confounding and entrancing right hand. Yes, War combines DIY music, punk, and grunge with roots music and fingerstyle blues, but that’s decidedly not the point – certainly not the centerpiece – of her art-making. (Despite what the guitar bros might tell you.) The truth is, at times, so much more complicated. At others, it’s really quite simple and literal. As she told us in an interview from earlier this year, she just plays the songs, the licks, the hooks, the lyrics as they’re meant to be played. And anarchy isn’t just a concept.
Bella White, Among Other Things
Bella White’s breakout debut, Just Like Leaving, had already been released when she signed to Rounder Records, who then picked up and distributed the album. It received widespread acclaim as her Alberta- and Virginia-influenced bluegrass sound and Gillian Welch-like lyrics resonated with listeners and critics alike. Her brand new album, Among Other Things, then, feels like both a debut and a sophomore outing, devoid of any sort of “sophomore slump,” but capitalizing on the excitement she continues to generate in the bluegrass realm and well beyond it, too. We featured the new project with an interview in May.
Julie Williams, Julie Williams EP
We first became acquainted with Julie Williams’ music through Black Opry, the artist collective and revue who were our June Artist of the Month. In the Black Opry Revue’s simple, writers’ round format, her songs shone, gorgeous even in their very simple trappings. On her new EP, each of her songs are given the full treatment they deserve. Though they never feel lacking when delivered intimately and stripped down, unencumbered, Williams’ songs in this context soar, especially because they each give us an individualized window into her creative process, her songwriting imagination, and the production landscape she’ll continue to conquer into the future.
Jess Williamson, Time Ain’t Accidental
In May we premiered “Chasing Spirits,” a delightfully hooky number from Jess Williamson’s latest album, Time Ain’t Accidental, which we are glad to return to here. (Williamson, you may know, is one half of duo Plains with Waxahatchee’s Katie Crutchfield.) Time Ain’t Accidental finds its home base where Williamson was raised, in Texas, and while it processes and puts under the microscope a past, failed relationship, this album is about movement, regeneration, and forward momentum. That she accomplishes this with imagery that’s pastoral, stark, and bristling is not an accident, either.
At your average live music event on the folk and bluegrass circuit, the stage isn’t the only place where great performances are happening. There’s the campfire and parking lot picking scene at the big outdoor festivals, of course. But a lot of it goes on out of sight backstage, too, when musicians who don’t often see each other come together to play with and for each other. A close approximation to listening in on that is Mighty Poplar (Free Dirt Records), the self-titled first album by the group of the same name.
The bluegrass world’s newest supergroup, Mighty Poplar is a five-piece band centered around three virtuoso players from the Punch Brothers orbit — banjo player Noam Pikelny, guitarist Chris “Critter” Eldridge and original Punch Brothers bassist Greg Garrison, currently in the band Leftover Salmon. Out front as primary vocalist is Watchhouse mandolinist Andrew Marlin, with well-traveled fiddler Alex Hargreaves (currently knocking ’em dead in Billy Strings’ touring band) filling out the lineup. Over the years, various subsets of this quintet would cross paths out on the road and jam, generally falling back on the old numbers everyone knew as a common language. That’s how Mighty Poplar began to coalesce.
“There’s a pretty complex web of relationships between all five of us that began with a lot of hanging out,” says Pikelny. “There’s this beautiful thing about bluegrass, the amazing music and all the shared songs. There’s a great social component that can exist with the music if you let it, and it became a reason to get together and have fun.”
While none of Mighty Poplar’s members come from acts you’d really call “bluegrass,” you could say they’re all at least bluegrass-adjacent. And none of them have ever come down as top-dead-center old-school bluegrass as on Mighty Poplar. The album’s 10-song tracklist draws material from A.P. Carter, Bob Dylan, John Hartford and Leonard Cohen, with songs made famous by the likes of Hazel & Alice, Uncle Dave Macon and Bill Monroe fiddler Kenny Baker.
Monroe, the Father of Bluegrass, also figures into the proceedings in terms of inspiration for the ensemble’s name. Proposing Mighty Poplar as a moniker was Marlin, someone who definitely knows his way around names involving wordplay (witness the original name of Watchhouse: Mandolin Orange).
“I was listening to a Bill Monroe and Doc Watson live recording where they were about to kick off ‘What Would You Give in Exchange for Your Soul?’” Marlin recalls. “Bill said he and Charlie recorded it in ’19-and-36’ in Charlotte and it had been ‘mighty poplar down through the Carolinas.’ We had a huge text thread already going about band names, where my phone was always going BING at 2:30 a.m. So many names we considered, but everybody thought Mighty Poplar was a good awning to stand under.”
While Mighty Poplar is only now coming out in the spring of 2023, the album has actually been in the can for a couple of years. It might never have happened without the Coronavirus pandemic shutdown of 2020-21, which took everyone’s regular bands off the road for an extended period of time.
In isolation, everyone felt drawn toward bluegrass as the musical equivalent of comfort food. So they took this on as a pandemic project, convening with engineer Sean Sullivan at Nashville’s Tractor Shed for a brisk three-day session in October of 2020.
“There was a sense that we were getting away with murder, traveling across the country and podding up while everything was closed up,” says Pikelny. “There were logistical hurdles and we had three days, so we had one shot to get it all at once. So we worked out as much as we could ahead of time, even the sequence. The concept, if there was one, was that this was the closest thing to a real-deal, traditional, classic bluegrass project any of us have done in a long time, maybe ever.”
As lead vocalist on six of the album’s 10 songs, Marlin is the primary out-front voice of Mighty Poplar. But he felt like he had to step up his game on the instrumental side, to keep up with his bandmates.
“It was intimidating, but not because those guys are intimidating,” Marlin says. “As a musician, I’ve had to figure out how to feel like I can express myself in front of people I look up to. But that’s on me for projecting my own shit onto them, because they don’t wear that. So ‘Grey Eagle,’ an instrumental fiddle tune Alex brought forth, I was kind of sweating that one in the studio. That kicked off at 150 beats per minute and everybody else is just looking around, casually exploring the nooks and crannies of the tempo while I’m popping a vein and kind of being drug behind the horse. But I managed to keep it together. Ultimately all those guys still love a great song as much as anyone. There’s something about simple songs that leave it up to the player to bring whatever they want. I love it when the song’s not telling you how to play it, and I feel lucky that they were down to explore that approach.”
Song choice was pretty casual, mostly in favor of material from a bit off the beaten path. Even with a Hall of Fame list of songwriters, they focused on less-well-known songs from the repertoire of each — Dylan’s take on the A.P. Carter tune “Blackjack Davy” rather than “Will the Circle Be Unbroken,” or Hartford’s Mark Twang riverboat song “Let Him Go On Mama” rather than “Gentle On My Mind.”
“It all happened pretty organically,” says Eldridge. “In the initial text volley about what to do, there were a lot of songs we would’ve been happy to cut. It’s hard to say why we landed on these particular songs other than that they felt right. I would not say there was an overarching concept beyond good songs that felt right.”
While they considered including some originals, ultimately they decided to stick with covers, mostly of older vintage (the most recent song on it is Montana singer/songwriter Martha Scanlan’s “Up on the Divide,” from 2012). In that way, Pikelny looks at Mighty Poplar as a classic folk record.
“In other genres, people might call this a ‘covers album,’” says Pikelny. “But if you record solo Bach compositions, that’s not ‘Bach covers.’ It’s repertoire, reinterpretations of classics to pass down. It was born of a desire, almost a need for all of us, to gather around a bluegrass project. And it was such a joyous process. It felt like coming home for Thanksgiving or Christmas and being around family you’ve not seen in a while, in the home you grew up in with a turkey in the oven. It was that kind of comfort, the warm fuzzy feelings of gatherings like that.”
It went so well, in fact, that they were in no hurry to get around to the detail work of mixing and mastering the record after they finished tracking. Pikelny says they felt almost paranoid about not wanting to touch it, for fear of messing up a good thing.
“We’ve been sitting on this for so long because it felt like such a special session,” Eldridge says. “So effortless and deeply joyful. Magical, even. We didn’t want to let it go because it felt like all we could do was ruin it. But I kept coming back to it, listening now and then and thinking, ‘I really like this. We have to share it, plus it’s a good excuse for us to get together again.’ It’s ironic that we’ve not actually played it live yet, and we’re already kind of getting the next batch together.”
Indeed, Mighty Poplar’s first real touring commences in May. With Hargreaves busy playing arena-sized venues with Strings for the foreseeable future, John Mailander will stand in for him on the first leg of touring. And all the principles are cautiously optimistic that Mighty Poplar’s first album won’t be its last. Pikelny likens their hoped-for trajectory to Tony Rice and J.D. Crowe’s Bluegrass Album Band, which periodically convened to make albums and tours through the 1980s and into the ’90s.
“Bluegrass Album Band was never a full-time group for any of those guys, it was a very sustainable side project whose records served as homecomings,” says Pikelny. “They’d go off to do whatever else and then come back for another edition. It’s a celebration of our love for bluegrass. As long as it stays as effortless as this felt, I think we’ll keep doing it when we can.”
Photo Credit: Brian Carroll
This website uses cookies to improve your experience. We'll assume you're ok with this, but you can opt-out if you wish.AcceptRead More
Privacy & Cookies Policy
Privacy Overview
This website uses cookies to improve your experience while you navigate through the website. Out of these, the cookies that are categorized as necessary are stored on your browser as they are essential for the working of basic functionalities of the website. We also use third-party cookies that help us analyze and understand how you use this website. These cookies will be stored in your browser only with your consent. You also have the option to opt-out of these cookies. But opting out of some of these cookies may affect your browsing experience.
Necessary cookies are absolutely essential for the website to function properly. This category only includes cookies that ensures basic functionalities and security features of the website. These cookies do not store any personal information.
Any cookies that may not be particularly necessary for the website to function and is used specifically to collect user personal data via analytics, ads, other embedded contents are termed as non-necessary cookies. It is mandatory to procure user consent prior to running these cookies on your website.
