Sarah Jarosz Looks to Her Texas Hometown for Inspiration (Part 1 of 2)

After years spent living in New York City and traveling the world on tour, Sarah Jarosz has turned to a source of inspiration she’s never mined before: her hometown.

With her fifth album, World on the Ground, the Grammy-winning artist gleaned her own folktales from the everyday rhythms of her life in Wimberley, Texas. Her time away from Friday night football games and the shadows of cypress trees allowed her to look on Wimberley’s details with fresh eyes, from the Ford Escape her parents drove and the dusty trails it kicked up to conversations about out-of-reach dreams with old friends (that she examines on “Maggie,” which came from an actual heart-to-heart she had with an old friend at her high-school reunion).

Jarosz found a breakthrough in the most familiar folds of her memory, but this perspective was also molded by the city that guided her as she retraced her steps through the Texas Hill Country in her lyrics. On “Pay It No Mind,” the single that gives World on the Ground its name, Jarosz alludes to this ability to find meaning and movement at a distance: she sings of the frightening, and often destructive, churn of life in our current moment from the point of view of a “little bird stretching her wings” who takes in the chaos from the seventh floor.

“I think being able to write and make this record mostly about my hometown, in New York, from far away, was an interesting part of the process,” she says. “It’s almost what allowed me to take on the role of the little bird on the seventh floor in a way, because I think it took leaving Wimberley and being away from it for quite awhile to be in a place where I could actually write about it in this way.”

In the first half of our two-part interview, Jarosz walks BGS through the little Texas town that became her muse, how her work with bluegrass supergroup I’m With Her left an impact on her creative process, and more.

For some people, going back to their hometown is a traumatic event, a negative, damaging experience. There’s clearly a lot of compassion for the voices you explore on World on the Ground, which was inspired by your own hometown. If you were to visit Wimberley with fresh eyes, how would you describe it?

Jarosz: One of the things that stands out about it compared to other towns of its size in Texas — and I think this would be obvious, even if you’d never been there and were taking a drive through town — it seems like it’s a little more balanced. It has one high school, and one football team, and a lot of the small town culture does revolve around that, around this sort of Friday Night Lights idea of a small Texas town.

But there’s also this incredible artsy kind of community in Wimberley. One of the big draws of Wimberley is its market days, which I think happens once a month — maybe it’s every weekend in the summer, I can’t remember. Arts and crafts and even the fact that there was a bluegrass jam every Friday night, that was why I fell in love with all this music in the first place. It feels a little more balanced in that way.

I truly feel, probably in a biased way, that it’s a very magical place. A lot of people who drive through it, if they’re driving around the hill country in Texas, would agree that it’s one of the towns that stands out from the rest. It has this kind of shimmery quality to it — that’s the word that comes to mind.

I love the contrast of “Maggie,” then, in which you’re singing from the perspective of a friend of yours from high school who can’t wait to leave the small town behind. I appreciate “Maggie” because it’s a real conversation you could be having with anyone who’s stuck where they are. The location is almost insignificant, because it’s about whatever’s holding you — it doesn’t necessarily have to be the town you’re in.

Exactly. The “football games and processed food” line definitely puts it in a place, but I feel like [the song] could also be anywhere. I purposely tried to make that happen. It was such an eye-opening thing for me to actually have this conversation with this friend — we were really close friends in childhood, then just drifted apart over the years, and ran into each other at my tenth high school reunion. She actually didn’t go to my high school, she went to a different school and that’s why we drifted apart.

She was asking me about my touring and my life and everything, and I think I was probably saying, “I wish I could be in one place more. I wish I had more of a home sense at this point in my life.” She was sort of saying, “All I want is to do what you do, travel and see the world.” It’s funny how sometimes the things that seem so obvious take just a simple moment of someone saying it to your face, and then you realize, “Oh! Duh!” That really happened for me there. That song is all about empathy and compassion for anyone who wants their circumstance to be different than it is and might not necessarily have the means to make that happen, but still having the dreams to hopefully one day change.

“What Do I Do” is a companion song to that, in a way: It’s sung by someone who wants to be home more, who wants to be still for a minute. What inspired that song?

A lot of these songs feel like gifts, in the sense that I generally feel like a very, very slow lyrical writer. The music comes more quickly to me, but that song and a lot of the songs that I wrote with John Leventhal were similar experiences. If he had the music written and sent it to me, the lyrics seemed to come very quickly. “Pay It No Mind” and “Orange and Blue” were two of those.

“What Do I Do” was another one where it almost felt like a dream to write. It’s similar to “Maggie” in the sense that it’s that same sort of longing for wanting something else than what you currently have, but then it’s also a thankfulness and acceptance in that. It almost feels like a mantra-type song where it’s repeated and it goes to a different place — very simple chords in the verses, and then it opens into this washy vibe in the, “What do I do, what do I do?” It was one of those gifts of a song.

You’ve been collaborating with your friends Sara Watkins and Aoife O’Donovan for years. Now that you’ve written albums and toured together, do you hear, or did you feel, the imprint of your time with I’m With Her going into this record in a new way?

I felt it in a creative way, personally. I think all of us were just so positively influenced by that experience [of] touring and putting out that record. What that allowed all of us — I’m speaking for myself, but I’d imagine they probably feel a similar way — was just the chance to step back and take a breath. Not in a busy sense, because we were just constantly working and on tour, but creatively.

I had never been in a band before; I had only ever put out my solo records. I think after Undercurrent, I couldn’t really imagine going straight into another solo record or album push because I just wasn’t inspired to. I had reached a point where I had wanted to experience something new. There was something so rewarding about feeling like I was a part of a team. We were all on each other’s team and carrying the load together. It was just so wonderful and magical. It definitely gave me the creative juice to just be so psyched about making this record.

With Sarah and Sean making their Watkins Family Hour duo project, and Aoife making Bull Frogs Croon, I love those projects so much because [we] all seem so inspired. I think that is because we all allowed ourselves this chance to step back from our own things, be a part of a team and give ourselves the gift of this renewed inspiration, almost. I definitely felt that. I hope they do, too. I’m so grateful for them.

Editor’s Note: Read the second half of our interview with BGS Artist of the Month Sarah Jarosz here.


Photo credit: Josh Wool

Artist of the Month: Sarah Jarosz

Sarah Jarosz heeded the advice to look outward, rather than inward, as she began to write for her fifth album, World on the Ground. Those words of wisdom came from producer John Leventhal, who told Jarosz in the studio that they would first record demos for her original songs — and, as Jarosz later realized, those no-pressure recordings often ended up on the final project.

“Because of that, I think there’s a magic that comes through in the songs,” she says. “Instead of judging myself or getting in my head too much, we were just creating true music in the moment.”

World on the Ground marks Jarosz’s full transition from a promising newcomer from Wimberly, Texas, to a cornerstone of the acoustic music community. A gifted guitarist and songwriter, Jarosz won two Grammys for her prior album, 2016’s Undercurrent, and a third for the song “Call My Name,” which she recorded as a member of I’m With Her. Now living in New York City, Jarosz still draws on her hometown experiences on songs like “Orange and Blue,” which she performed on a recent episode of Whiskey Sour Happy Hour (watch above).

“As I was writing this record, it was the deepest I’d ever gone in terms of getting down to the very specific details in the way I told each story,” she says. “The details are what make people feel something and connect the story to their own lives, and that’s really all I want for my music.”

Read our two-part Artist of the Month interview here: Part One. Part Two. And while you’re at it, enjoy our Essentials playlist, too.


Photo credit: Josh Wool

Laurie Lewis & Friends, “Dear Old Dixie (Live)”

This edition of Tunesday turned out to be an oddly circuitous task. We often take this space to highlight our Artists of the Month, pointing out instrumentals from throughout their catalogs and across their careers, but for singer, songwriter, guitarist, poet, frontwoman, and long-distance hiker Laurie Lewis, the tunes are simply in too-short supply. Not because they don’t exist, but because Lewis’ cosmic level lyricism tends to eclipse her virtuosic command of the majority of bluegrass’s titular instruments. You may most often see her with a dreadnought strapped around her shoulders, but rest a fiddle there instead and you’re bound to enjoy some of the best bluegrass fiddling — with an even sprinkling of contest style, West Coast country, and the melody-driven old-time of the Pacific Northwest throughout.
In this clip from a live performance on The Texas Connection in 1992, Lewis is joined by longtime musical partner and bandmate Tom Rozum as well as Sally Van Meter, Alan Munde, Peter Rowan, Peter McLaughlin, and Cary Black on a sleek and stupefying rendition of “Dear Old Dixie.” It’s a banjo number, naturally, so Munde kicks it off with an uncharacteristically normative, Scruggs-like play through the melody. The remaining bandmates each take a turn, but the fire’s really lit when Lewis saws out her own solo, reminding all of us that she only ends up placing herself behind the guitar more often than not because she chooses to. With slippery, deliciously dissonant double stops she capitalizes upon the signature energy and showmanship concentrated within every note, every bow stroke, and every string pluck she issues.
While a quick stroll through her catalog, especially on streaming platforms, may not immediately land you in a pile of recordings of burning Bill Monroe tunes, or contemplative waltzes, or danceable hornpipes, you’ll probably find yourself confounded by the natural imagery, tender emotion, and raw spiritual power of her lyrics instead. That’s understandable. With a little digging, though, that picture of a legendary artist’s work can be expanded to include lifelong rations of indomitable pickin’ like this, too. And it ought to.

Photo courtesy of the artist.

A Role Model and Mentor, Laurie Lewis Still Seeks Out Bluegrass Masters (Part 2 of 2)

Laurie Lewis’ new album, and Laurie Lewis, is as much a tribute to her strong relationships as it is to her musical talents. Featuring old friends like Kathy Kallick, Todd Phillips, and Tom Rozum, and younger collaborators like Tatiana Hargreaves, Molly Tuttle, and Leah Wollenberg, her embrace of great friends and great music is on full display. In the second half of our conversation, the IBMA Award-winning artist talks about her history in the Bay Area, her aspirations and challenges, and the things that give her joy.

Editor’s Note: Read part one of our BGS Artist of the Month interview with Laurie Lewis.

BGS: Years ago, you and Kathy Kallick gave bluegrass a female voice. Were you conscious of breaking barriers at the time? And are you aware of what a model you are to women our age?

I appreciate that in hindsight. In the moment, we were just trying to make the best music we could make together, and we were both in a musical community in the Bay Area that didn’t have the barriers that the outside world had for women in bluegrass. We were doing what we wanted to do, what was fun for us. And not thinking that it was the most special thing or groundbreaking or ceiling-shattering stuff.

It was when I started performing more outside the Bay Area that I began to realize that what we had been doing was unusual. But at that point, I was just headstrong and I was just going to do what I wanted to do and not be stopped. I had disdain for festivals that would only book one girl bandleader at a festival, while they would book 12 male bandleaders at a festival. It pissed me off, but it didn’t stop me. And things are still a little bit like that — it’s amazing how slowly things change.

Did you set out to mentor young women?

Life for me just sort of unfolds, and I have to say I don’t set out to do these things in advance. I didn’t decide, “Now that I’m a wise older woman…” to mentor younger people. What actually started it was when younger people started showing up at music camps. I was a little afraid of that, because most music camps I had been doing were with adults. And I was a little afraid of my ability to relate to and coach young people.

When I was first asked to teach at a fiddle camp specifically for young people, I was sort of daunted by it. But the relationships that grew out of that camp have been incredibly important to me. Tatiana was there — she also went to Bluegrass at the Beach when she was like seven, that’s when we met. And Emily Mann, who wrote one of the songs I sang with Molly, was a preteen at that camp.

It has been a thrill to watch them blossom. It has been so gratifying to me. I don’t have children, and that’s a choice on my part, but I really appreciate them. I really enjoy hanging out with them and being able to have them in my life. I didn’t decide to focus on young women, but I suppose just because I am a woman, that has happened. People want role models – to see someone who’s like them. I am more like a young woman than I am like a teenage boy!

Any comments about being a role model?

Well, I feel very, very grateful that that’s happened. I’m really just trying to do the best I can do and play what’s in my heart and express myself in the best way I can, which seems to be through music. I am very gratified that people see me as a role model. I have a feeling of responsibility about that — so I better not fuck up.

Why is teaching important to you?

I get very excited teaching about things that excite me. Music excites me, and I want to spread the gospel. I am evangelistic about things like Chubby Wise’s fiddle playing, and how his solos are the bedrock of bluegrass fiddling. Singing harmonies, and how to work on making a vocal blend, are is endlessly fascinating to me, so I like a chance to talk about it and explore it with other people.

It also helps me, because when I am teaching I go back to the masters and I listen again to things maybe I haven’t listened to in 10 years. I always hear new things and I always learn myself. It keeps the music fresh for me in that way. It’s not just a one-way street. Teaching’s definitely a two-way street.

Do you want to talk about your shyness? You’ve said you are incredibly shy, and yet when you are on stage you fill auditoriums with your presence and your energy. How does that work?

I’ve certainly conquered a lot of my shyness. Shyness is really fear-based. You have to learn to face your fears. And in many, many instances, by facing them they just melt away. They are like a wraith. They just go away. I have learned that over the years. I used to be afraid to talk on the phone. It was so hard for me to call people up and just be a regular person on the phone and have a one-on-one conversation. I made myself do it. I made myself get on stage. I made myself open up to an audience. Sometimes it’s easier to open up to an audience than it is to open up to three people in the room with you. Strength in numbers when it comes to shyness.

I was really shy — and I’m not so shy any more. I still very seldom will talk to strangers. I told Tom yesterday that I was on a hike, and I met this young man and we talked a whole lot (this guy was named after Superman’s father, Jor-El). Tom said, “How did you start talking to him?” And I said, “I don’t know, it was a beautiful day….” and Tom said, “This is so unlike you.” It is unlike me that I would talk to a stranger, but we had a very great conversation. It turns out we were both born in Long Beach, we have a lot in common. … I’m still breaking down my barriers. By the time I’m 90 I’ll be talking to anybody and everybody. You won’t be able to shut me up.

How is today feeling for you? You have this great new album – and the world is upside down.

It’s frustrating, but — it’s just my own little personal problem. It’s really too bad, but so many people are suffering so much right now. I don’t have it in me to be all upset about it being a bad time for me. The album will still be here, the music will still be here when the virus has run its course. The virus is not going to kill my music.

How are you keeping your spirits up?

I go up into the hills and I walk. And right now it’s springtime, it is so beautiful. The world is just so gorgeous. There are wildflowers everywhere. If you can get out into nature, it is the most healing balm that I know of, and that’s what works for me. It makes the human problems seem so small, and it connects me to the universe. It takes me outside of myself.

What’s next for you?

I’m loving playing with the current Right Hands configuration: Brandon Godman on fiddle, Patrick Sauber on banjo and Haselden Ciaccio on bass (along with Tom). We’ve been planning a new album. We’ve got so many things we’re cooking up: new songs and old stuff that we’ve been doing. I feel like we need to have a record of how we sound together.

Do you have a special goal, something that you want to achieve that you haven’t done before? 

I would really love it if other people would sing some of my songs and make them part of the folk tradition. That would thrill me more than anything. I would like to get interviewed by Terry Gross. That would be pretty great! Of course, because I’ve been doing this for so long I would like to get broader recognition, but I’m fine with things the way they are. But mostly I’m just very, very grateful that I get to do what I want to do. I can put together a life out of it and I can keep playing. I’m in my 70th year. I just feel lucky.


Photo credit: Jeff Fasano

On New Duet Album, Laurie Lewis Gathers Old Friends and Close Companions (Part 1 of 2)

Laurie Lewis has lived most of her life in Berkeley, California, yet she’s primarily associated with music from Appalachia. A highly respected producer, she is admired equally for her singing, songwriting, fiddling and arranging, and her influences range from old-time and bluegrass to swing and jazz.

In 1986, Lewis released her first solo album, Restless Rambling Heart, which included seven original songs. Since then, she has recorded more than 20 albums with a variety of musical friends. She holds numerous honors from the International Bluegrass Music Association, as well as Grammy nominations for her own albums and collaborations.

Now nearly 35 years into her career, Lewis regularly pays tribute to female bluegrass pioneers, performs with and fosters a new generation of female musicians, and teaches at many of the nation’s most acclaimed music camps. BGS caught up with her by phone to discuss her new duet album, and Laurie Lewis, featuring old friends and new musical partners alike.

BGS: Why a duet album?

Lewis: It came about accidentally. I had an idea that I wanted to record a duet on (the Carter Family song) “You are My Flower.” Molly Tuttle and I got together to try it out and we had so much fun playing and singing that we went upstairs to my little studio. We turned on the microphones and just sang and played. It was so musically full, it didn’t need anything else. I thought, “Thank heavens, I have finally gotten around to singing this duet the way I’d wanted to for the last 20 or 30 years.” Then I got together with Tatiana Hargreaves. When we toured together, she and I worked up a tune I had written that she played on the fiddle, and I just loved that and I wanted to capture that. Then we got excited and did another song – and then I had three songs! I thought, “Maybe I’m making a duet album.”

Tom Rozum and I had worked out the Monroe Brothers’ version of “Will the Circle be Unbroken” for a Monroe tribute, and I just loved the way that sounded, and I thought we definitely should record that. It snowballed from there. I had lots of duet ideas where I thought a particular friend would be perfect on a particular song. So I went about collecting the versions of the songs. I recorded more things than are on the album. I have a few that are held back, just because I didn’t want it to be super-long and have people lose interest halfway through thinking they would never get to the end!

How did you decide to keep the instrumentation so spare – no more than two voices and two instruments?

After listening to what I recorded with Molly and Tati, I really liked what I heard. I fell in love with playing as a duet with Tom. We’re both essentially band musicians and used to having a whole band surrounding us, not just picking up the slack, but filling out the sound. When we started playing as a duo many years ago, it seemed really scary to both of us – and really empty. But we kept doing it, and I fell in love with the emptiness, that loose weave that you get with just two people and two instruments. And the way it becomes a conversation – my favorite way to have a conversation, just one on one.

How did you choose your partners and songs?

They’re all people who I have had long musical relationships or long friendships with. I’ve known Molly and Leah Wollenberg since they were babies. As the project went on, it felt as if these are some of my closest companions in life. These are the core people who have made a huge difference to my musical life in one way or the other

One of the last things I recorded for the album was “Old Friend” with Kathy Kallick. As the album started to take shape, I realized, “Oh my God, I have to have Kathy on here.” We have been singing partners and friends for more than 40 years. I just have to have her on here. But I couldn’t think of a song. The idea came to me as I was backpacking in the mountains: “‘Old Friend,’ of course!” It was recorded originally in 1989 and we’ve been friends much longer. It seemed like the perfect vehicle for us at this point.

Do you write specifically for an album, or do you just come up with songs, say, when you’re hiking, and then it shows up on an album?

Yes. I would say yes to both of those. For instance, I never expected “The Pika Song” [to end up] on the new album. I was just making up a little poem about pikas when I was hiking on the John Muir Trail. And then I was sitting around playing the banjo one day and I started singing it. When I mentioned it to Tatiana, she told me that some friend had just said that she thought the pika was [a perfect animal to match] Tati. She got really excited – she’d never seen one, but she got to hear all about them and play on the song and sing about them, so that was pretty fun.

Sometimes I will write things specifically for a group or for an album. I have lots of songs that I just don’t finish and sometimes the impetus of recording an album is what pushes me to commit to being done. So in that way I do write for albums. And sometimes just because the creative juices start flowing when you’re in a recording situation, a new song just comes along. And I’m grateful for that.

Did you choose songs that represented your own versatility?

Oh, no. I didn’t think about that. I really just thought about who was the right person to sing with on a particular song. Like the songs I did with Nina Gerber. There is nobody I would rather do certain songs with than Nina Gerber. “My Last Go Round” is a Rosalie Sorrels song. Nina worked closely with Rosalie and I got to play with her a few times. I recorded that song on a tribute album for Rosalie, and when we played the tribute concert, I played it for the first time with Nina. It felt so deep and healing. Music has a real way of being able to soothe and heal grief, and it really felt good to do it with her, and we’ve been doing it every time we play together since then. Nina’s electric guitar is the absolute perfect thing for “This is Our Home.” She fell right into it, just knew exactly what to play. She’s a mind reader.

Todd Phillips and I occasionally play “Baby, That Sure Would Go Good” in concert. We did it for years, but I never thought about recording it. When suddenly I was doing a duet album, I thought it would be perfect. And of course it was really fun. Todd’s bass playing is just out of this world. I mean that in every way you can think of. It’s crazy, but it’s great.

Tell us about “Troubled Times,” which is so appropriate right now. When you wrote it, were you thinking of something specific?

I wrote that about 20 years ago. I honestly cannot remember what inspired me to write it. It had some other verses, at least one other verse which I left out, because it wasn’t as good as the ones I used. I think it was politically motivated at the time, motivated to the outside world and my reaction to what was going on, but I can’t remember what specific event or events inspired it.

I had only performed with Leah Wollenberg once, at the Freight & Salvage, although I’ve known her all her life. One day I said to her, “Would you come over and sing one of my songs with me so I would have a recording of it”? I really didn’t know how it would go. So she came over and we recorded it. When I listened to it I said, “This is good! This is great!” So I asked her if she would be on the album. I think that I’ve just been sitting on that song waiting for the right combination of events, but also the right combination of voices to sing it with me.

Can you talk about the role of friendship in your music? You sustain such long-term friendships and musical partnerships. Is that unique to you?

I don’t think that’s unique to me. Musicians communicate very deeply through shared music. It’s impossible to play heartfelt music with other people without loving them, or at least learning to love them. And once you love somebody, you want to keep them in your life. So if there’s a problem, you work it out. You address it. You don’t let things go by and be on the surface. It’s what we do — we forge personal relationships that are strengthened through music, or are begun through music and continue past music.

Editor’s Note: Read part two of our Artist of the Month interview with Laurie Lewis.


Photo credit: Maria Camillo

Artist of the Month: Laurie Lewis

Generously sharing her gifts as a fiddler, singer, and songwriter, Grammy nominee Laurie Lewis has remained a beacon on the West Coast bluegrass landscape for more than 30 years. While she’s considered a seminal figure for women in bluegrass, today she’s creating music that’s just as vital as her acclaimed albums of the ’80s, ’90s, and early 2000s.

For her newest album, and Laurie Lewis, she gathers a new generation of admirers and longtime cohorts alike for a mix of covers and originals that draw on her folk and bluegrass roots.

“There are things that you can communicate musically together, which are hard to put into words,” she has said. “To have those conversations with people I love and who have been so significant throughout my career is a beautiful thing.”

An IBMA Award-winning vocalist and an advocate for equality, Lewis possesses a compelling voice that commands attention.  Read our two-part interview with our May Artist of the Month, Laurie Lewis, here: Part one. Part two. And while you do, enjoy our Essentials playlist.


Photo credit: Jeff Fasano

Sean Watkins Heeds Good Advice (or Not) on Watkins Family Hour’s Second Album

For brother sister, Watkins Family Hour’s sophomore album and first in five years, Sara and Sean Watkins decided to tighten their focus, writing songs that allowed them to shine as a duo. “It was an experiment, and it ended up being so fun and totally different from the first Watkins Family Hour record we did,” Sean says. “In this case, more than any other project, we were very deliberate about the style of the songs, how they came together, and how we recorded them.”

The effort paid off. Ringing in at ten tracks, including seven originals, brother sister ranges from glittering, harmony-driven folk (opener “The Cure”) to can’t-help-but-dance silliness (“Keep It Clean,” a Charley Jordan featuring vocals from David Garza, Gaby Moreno, and John C. Reilly). We caught up with Sara and Sean individually, chatting about the album and the forces in their careers that built them, including their early years with Nickel Creek. Read our Artist of the Month interview with Sean below, and catch Sara’s interview here.

BGS: You wrote a good portion of “Fake Badge, Real Gun” before you brought the idea to Sara. What inspired it?

Sean Watkins: I have a folder in my notes on my phone, Future Song Titles. I like to think about what a good song title is — you know, when you see a song title on a record and you’re like, “Oh, I really want to know, I want to hear that song.” A book title can be the same way. I heard the term “Fake Badge, Real Gun” in a hotel room on some kind of local news station. It was a headline, probably a story about a kid, or somebody who was pretending to be a police officer. When I heard that phrase, I put it in my phone, because I just thought, “There’s a lot more in there to be explored.”

There are plenty of people in power who don’t deserve to be. They have the power to destroy and create a lot of chaos, but they didn’t really earn it, or they don’t deserve to be there for one reason or another. Everybody comes into contact with authorities who affect you in profound ways, especially when you’re younger, without knowing how they’re affecting you negatively. At a certain age you get to a point where you unpack your childhood — what your teachers taught you, what you heard in church or what you heard in college — and you have to look at it objectively and figure out who gave you that advice, what they were meaning to get across, and whether you still believe it.

Did anything in your life specifically come to mind?

I went to a Baptist Christian school for a while. It wasn’t because my family was Baptist, but because it was the closest private school, and my parents were public school teachers and didn’t really like the way public school was going. The teachers were pretty strict, evangelical, and I remember this girl who was probably in seventh or eighth grade. She had a great voice, and she got vocal nodes on her vocal chords — it’s just something that happens when you don’t use the right singing technique. It happens to a lot of people. But she asked our Bible teacher, “Do you think God gave me these vocal nodes because I’ve been singing secular music?” I think she’d sang an Oasis song at a coffee shop or something.

And the teacher said, “Yeah, that’s probably why.” Like, in all seriousness, he told her that, because she sang a secular song, God gave her these vocal nodes. And he believed it! But who knows how long that stuck with her, that by singing a certain kind of song God will strike you. You can carry that with you for the rest of your life, whether you know it or not. So I try to think about that in my life: What are the things that I’m carrying around that I don’t need to carry around, because someone who had authority used their “gun” in a way that was, looking back, absolutely wrong? You can take the idea out to any number of places in the world.

The cover of the Charley Jordan song is so fun — what a way to end the record. Can you tell me about deciding to cover “Keep It Clean”?

A few weeks before going into the studio, and we were taking inventory of what we had, what kinds of things might be fun to add to the record, what was missing. We just thought it’d be fun to have one song that’s just a party song: what people know the Family Hour to be, which is kind of a wild, fun ruckus; a song that’s easy for anyone to jump in on, with different people singing verses. Something that sounds like what we do when we play our shows [in Los Angeles] at Largo.

Originally I heard this song when I did a month of shows with Lyle Lovett, playing in his band years ago filling in for a friend of mine who played guitar with him. He did that song every night, but totally different: His version was a bouncy, Texas-swing kind of vibe. I really liked it, and I asked him where it came from. He said it was a Charley Jordan song, but that he’d changed it a lot, and that I should check out the original. It’s so funny because it’s such an old song, but it has such a beautiful, almost current pop melody to it. The guitar line in the original version sounds like a Beach Boys melody. It doesn’t sound like ‘20s blues at all, and I thought that was a really cool element of it. So we based our version on that, although it evolved and sounds very different.

Another thing I like about it is that the lyrics are just quirky and weird; you can’t really tell what they are. The verses were based on popular off-color jokes at the time. So people hearing the song back then would have gotten these references that we’re not getting right now. [Laughs] And they might just be really dumb jokes! It’s like a museum piece. I thought it was so cool.

It’s been twenty years since Nickel Creek released its self-titled, breakout album. How do you feel like the success you had then influenced the way Americana and bluegrass are perceived now, or influenced the player you are now?

Every seven or ten years it seems like there’s a recurrence of some kind of music, and at that time, there was a confluence of things that happened that brought acoustic music way more to the forefront. A big one of those was the O Brother, Where Art Thou? soundtrack: a soundtrack for a movie that sells millions and millions of records, and is mostly old-time bluegrass, that’s a big deal. Alison Krauss was the only one selling millions of records playing anything related to bluegrass, and she wasn’t playing very traditional music. So that record came out, and Alison was — still is — just cranking away, hugely popular. We kind of got lumped in with all of that. People thought we were on the soundtrack a lot, which we weren’t. [Laughs]

There was just a wave. We have to give Alison credit because she saw the potential in what we could do. That first record is a very different record than we wanted it to be. We were so young, so green. We wanted to make a much more wild and aggressive type of record, and she was like, “Listen, that’s fine for your live shows. But it’s not gonna wear well. It’s going to be exciting to listen to the first couple of times, but people aren’t gonna want to listen to it a year from now — you’re not gonna want to listen to it a year from now.” She was really wise in restraining us in a lot of ways that we wouldn’t have.

Do you still take that advice to heart when you’re recording?

Absolutely. I have a mental bag of tricks that I’ve collected from different people over the years. A lot of the great producers will say something that really sticks with you, and it’s immediately like, “I’m gonna remember that and apply it the rest of my life.” I remember being in the studio one time for something that T-Bone Burnett was producing. We were in the control room, and he was musing and talking about the creative process, and he said, “People think about writing songs like writing songs. Don’t think about it that way. Think about writing a feeling. Like when you’re writing a movie, you’re writing a story. When you’re writing a song, just write a feeling — don’t write a song.” I was like, “That is soooo great.” Because that’s exactly what it is! A song’s supposed to make you feel something.

(Read our interview with Sara Watkins here.)


Photo credit: Jacob Boll

Artist of the Month: Watkins Family Hour

Sean Watkins and Sara Watkins have factored into some of the most accomplished and creative ensembles of the last two decades, while building a cool catalog of their own solo albums, too. Familiar to many as co-founders of Nickel Creek (with Chris Thile), the California siblings are once again teaming up as a duo for brother sister, their second album as Watkins Family Hour.

“From the beginning, our goal was to work on these songs to be as strong as they could be, just the two of us,” Sara says. “And with a few exceptions on the record, that’s really how things were. It was a tight little group of us, working dense days where we could squeeze them in.”

Sara won a Grammy earlier this year for “Call My Name” as a member of I’m With Her (with Aoife O’Donovan and Sarah Jarosz). In addition to producing, Sean has recorded with collectives such as Fiction Family, Mutual Admiration Society, and Works Progress Administration. Their appearances at the Los Angeles club Largo have inspired a number of impromptu collaborations on stage as well. Together, however, the siblings make a powerful unit, capturing a band sound with essentially two people — but incorporating a fresh perspective through producer Mike Viola.

“Mike brings a diverse musical history to his production work,” Sean says. “He’s worked with a lot of people [from The Figgs to Fall Out Boy] that surpass just bluegrass or folk, but his sense of the songwriting craft and melody is right in line with us. He was bringing ideas that we would have never had, and vice versa.”

Enjoy new tracks from Watkins Family Hour in our BGS Essentials playlist, plus choice cuts from throughout their brilliant careers.

Our Artist of the Month interviews are here! (Read part one here. Read part two here.)


Photo credit: Jacob Boll

WATCH: The Secret Sisters Welcome Solace of Spring with “Late Bloomer”

With spring just arriving, our BGS Artist of the Month has just given us a seasonal freshen-up with a lovely new release. Siblings Laura Rogers and Lydia Slagle, known as The Secret Sisters, released their latest album, Saturn Return, at the end of February. The new record was produced by Brandi Carlile along with Phil and Tim Hanseroth and was released on New West Records.

“Late Bloomer” and its accompanying video have the same glow that an old photo album or a home-cooked meal with your family might have: welcoming, heart-warming, and encouraging. The message of the song is one of affirmation and reassurance, reiterating that everyone’s story is different and every path is unique. For a peak into what Saturn Return holds, watch the Secret Sisters’ touching music video for “Late Bloomer,” a spring of solace for those who feel the familiar impulse to compare and pass judgment on their own experience.


Photo credit: Alysse Gafkjen

The Secret Sisters’ Lydia Slagle: Good People With Great Purpose (Part 2 of 2)

Hearing the Secret Sisters sing captivates you immediately. Known best for their entrancing harmonies, the Alabama-born artists write songs about everyday hardships and headline-grabbing injustices, with a balance of poetry and punch in every lyric. It’s made fast fans of many, including Brandi Carlile, who called sisters Lydia Slagle and Laura Rogers in 2015 and offered to produce their next record, 2017’s You Don’t Own Me Anymore.

On the new Saturn Return, co-produced by Carlile and Phil and Tim Hanseroth, the duo expands beyond their well-known harmonies by exploring the previously untapped power that their voices have solo, recording many segments separately for the first time in their decade-long career. In a nod to that milestone, BGS spoke to each sister individually in advance of the album’s release. Here, Lydia Slagle talks about Carlile’s strength as a producer, finding hope despite hardship, and the distinct pride in being a late bloomer.

Tell me about your upbringing and your first memories with music.

We’re from rural Northwest Alabama. We grew up running through the woods and making forts and playing in the creek. We spent a lot of time outside with our cousins, and it was really family-oriented. Our dad is in a bluegrass band, so we were going to bluegrass festivals every Saturday. We went to church every Sunday, and the church that we grew up in was all congregational. Everybody sang together, so from a very early age, you had to learn to sing harmony.

You were the main writer on “Late Bloomer,” one of my favorite tracks from Saturn Return. Has anything ever made you feel like a late bloomer? How did you reframe that feeling with the positivity we hear in the song?

I’ve always felt a little bit behind. People in my grade, or my age… I always felt like they got there before I did. Part of that is being a Southern woman. I think that we are a little more pressured to have children faster, or get married at an earlier age. Even though I’d been all around the world, I still felt that pressure — I still felt behind. When I wrote “Late Bloomer,” my husband and I had been trying for a baby for almost a year. That particular day, I was just really frustrated with the whole situation. I thought, of course, this happens to me. I’ve been behind in every other aspect of my life, so of course I’m gonna be last for this, too — which sounds dramatic, I know…

No, it sounds… relatable.

Well, it was September, and I was at the piano looking out the window. I had been told that March or April was when I should hang my hummingbird feeders, because that’s when they’d come to the house. And I had not seen a hummingbird all year until the day I wrote this song. It made me start thinking about that aspect differently: they’re late coming to the party, so it’s OK for me to be, too. It’s OK to feel behind. Whatever timeline you set for yourself, it doesn’t matter, because we’re all on our own path. It was a really encouraging way to look at it. I’ve tried to look at it like that ever since.

Brandi Carlile produced your third album, You Don’t Own Me Anymore, and you chose to work with her again on Saturn Return. What made her the right person to produce this album?

We had a lot of fun with our third record. Not that we didn’t with our others, but we were so serious in the beginning, so concerned with being perfect, with having every note be exactly right. With the third record, we were this big family, just playing music together, just jamming. We really wanted to have that same experience again with the fourth record, especially because we had gone through some stuff before this record that was really hard. I was struggling with infertility; I didn’t really understand what was going to happen with our careers. We needed the positivity that Brandi tends to bring to a situation. She always helps us remember that we do this for a reason — and that we’re good at it. It was a really great communal effort, and I would say we were more comrades this time around. It felt like a bunch of friends playing together.

She recommended you and Laura record your vocals separately for the first time ever. What was going through your mind, from the first time you tried it to when you heard it played back?

It felt like an out-of-body experience in so many ways, just because we were so used to singing at the same time, into the same mic. So it was a new, refreshing experience to remember that we are separate people, with our own voices and our own things to say. That’s what Brandi is so good at doing — helping us remember what our talents are. It was a really important part of this recording process itself: finding our own voices and being who we are separately, but still being a band; and learning how to still sing together, even when we have our own perspectives to draw from.

As the album’s closing track, “Healer in the Sky” has a deeply spiritual and peaceful theme — a message of hope. Through the making of this record, what’s something that made you feel hopeful?

Even though we were on separate paths, Laura and I, there was a common thread going through our situations when we were recording. We were kind of settling into adulthood. Our grandmothers had just passed away within a week of each other, and we could see that our parents are getting older and going through health issues. We were both at a time in our lives when we were trying to reconcile things that don’t seem fair, seeing how other people around us have struggled. The reality of adulthood had set in, and you can hear that in a lot of the songs on the record.

But what gives us hope is that we’re people of faith. You do hear it especially on “Healer in the Sky” — we try to remember that we have a bigger hope, and we have a reason for why we do this. It’s easy to get ‘in our heads’ about things that seem hard at the time, but when you look at the grand scheme of things, those things are usually actually pretty petty. So for us, it’s been important to remember our purpose, and to just try to be good people along the way. That’s all that really matters.

Read the first part of our Artist of the Month interview with the Secret Sisters’ Laura Rogers.


Photo credit: Alysse Gafkjen