Inspired by Black Culture Overseas, Buffalo Nichols Makes His Blues Debut

As the first solo blues artist signed to Fat Possum Records in 20 years, Buffalo Nichols faces high expectations. But on his self-titled debut, the musician (whose given name is Carl Nichols) more than meets them, stitching Black history and musical traditions with current events and experiences to craft the sonic equivalent of a quilt. And the story it tells is an important one.

Nichols was born in Houston and raised in Milwaukee, but when he got the urge to roam and the money to do it, he took off, immersing himself in creative scenes across Europe and West Africa. Although he’s been based in Austin since the fall of 2020, Nichols channels the Delta, North Mississippi and Chicago through his nimble fingers or resonator slide while wrapping his warm voice around words that cut to the core of oppression, and the many forms of heartbreak it causes. While the poetic lyrics in songs such as the sad, beautiful “These Things” might be open to interpretation, there’s no mistaking the point of “Another Man,” adapted from the chain-gang lament, “Another Man Done Gone”:

When my grandpa was young
He had to hold his tongue
‘Cause they’d hang you from a bridge downtown
Now they call it ‘stand your ground’
Another man is dead.…

No need to hide behind a white hood
When a badge works just as good
Another man is dead…

It’s a protest song for today — clearly connecting the dots that for Black people in America, as the song says, “it might as well be 1910, killing women and killing men.

BGS: Do you remember when you discovered blues music?

Nichols: I guess I discovered it as a genre when I was 12 or 13, through my mom’s music collection. She had the stuff that everybody had in the ’90s: Robert Cray, Strong Persuader, and that Jonny Lang album (Lie to Me); stuff like that. For the most part, I skipped the blues-rock thing. That was never of much interest to me; I went from contemporary blues straight to country blues and folk blues.

So how did you get from Milwaukee to West Africa and Europe?

Airplane.

Thanks for the smart-ass Greenland answer.

(Both laugh.) I didn’t travel much as a kid or into my teens. When I finally had the money and independence to do it, I decided to go as far as I could. That’s where I ended up.

And how did your travels help you find this path you sought to connect the Black experience, as expressed in early blues, to Black lives today?

I just saw a respect for Black art and Black culture that didn’t exist, and still doesn’t exist, here. And it is upsetting, but I just felt like, if there’s something that can be done about it, even if it’s futile, it’s still worth trying. I saw so many people in Europe making a living off of (music), and in Africa, really living and dying for it. So I felt like I could contribute in my own way.

The lyrics in “Another Man” are particularly chilling, and quite effective, I think. Listeners tend to assume lyrics are autobiographical even when they’re not, but the lines “Police pulled a gun on me. I was only 17” sure sound like they come from actual experience, especially in a place like Milwaukee. Is that a fair assumption?

Yeah. That is fair. “Another Man” is an older song that came from a time when I mostly wrote autobiographically, when I was deeply immersed in — or at least trying to be immersed in — the folk and Americana world. Ironically, the reason why I felt like leaving that and going to the blues is because I got really tired of this sort of outsider perspective, like trying to explain my humanity to a bunch of white people. That’s what Americana was, and still is, to me. So I stopped talking about myself so much, because I felt like my experience should be valid enough without the trauma. They really love that stuff in Americana. In the blues, it’s not much better, but now I make more of an effort to write stories and not always write about myself.

I’m sorry that you felt invalidated in those genres. Country and Americana … a lot of these genres are trying to be more inclusive, but sometimes it feels like they’re forcing it. Where’s the balance, and how do we find it?

As far as I can tell, so much work has been done to keep it this sort of white-boys club, that any effort for inclusivity is naturally going to be forced. Until there’s this real structural change, the same people who made it what it is are just going to be cherry-picking which voices they allow to break through every once in a while. It doesn’t feel natural; it feels … like it’s all been sort of orchestrated from behind the scenes.

I guess if it feels forced now, maybe one day it won’t. Going back to the music, there’s a really elemental sound to these songs. A lot of them are just your vocals and resonator. When I saw you live, I noticed a lot of effects being added that aren’t on the album. What’s the decision behind that?

I had a more ambitious idea of what I wanted to sound like, and I didn’t get to do it on the record, so I try really hard to be more creative live.

I think it’s a great album, but I can understand if it doesn’t express your artistic desires, why that might be frustrating.

That certainly ties into my gripes with Americana. Everything is like, “Oh, this is great progress.” But at the end of the day, the people who orchestrated it are the same people who kept us out of it.

When it comes to authenticity in blues, do you believe race makes a difference?

I think it does. I mean, I’ve been hearing that word a lot, authenticity, and I don’t even know what it means anymore. Obviously, it’s complicated, but … there’s so much about the blues that I don’t even understand, being born in 1991 and being raised in the Midwest. And it takes me a lot of conscious effort to — you know, part of it is this real ancestral connection that I feel, and part of it is stuff that I have to learn like everybody else. But I really think that white people are so far from the actual music and the culture of it that I just don’t understand; I mean, it’s great music, but white people can do whatever they want and be anything they want. I don’t know why you would want to be a depressed Black person. (Both laugh.)

A blues scholar I really respect told me that one reason it seemed like Black people gravitated away from the blues is because it was the music of a depressed culture, a time of oppression, and hip-hop is music of aspiration.

I think that’s a myth. Hip-hop and the blues both cover the entire — I mean, I jokingly say it’s depressing, but both cover every aspect of Black existence, the joy and the darkness. There are a lot of theories on why Black people moved away from the blues. But I think a pretty good example is somebody like Elvis, where the music industry found a way to make the music without the people, and when people don’t see themselves in it, they look for something else. I think that’s really what it is. You can even see it in real time. When things get commodified, regardless of race, the people who create the culture feel like, “OK, now we have to move on because it’s not ours anymore.”

Well, how do you respond to that? Is there any way that makes sense?

I really don’t know. Some of my peers are a little further ahead of me, but Kingfish (Christone Ingram), Adia Victoria and Jontavious Willis, everybody’s doing their part. But we’re also scrambling around, figuring out how do we, in this limited time on this earth that we have, carry on this tradition that these people dedicated their lives to and went through hell to preserve, this little piece of culture that we are able to make a living off of. I think the best thing we can do is just keep creating, because each one of us is going to inspire one or two or three artists to take on that burden and turn it into something that we’re all proud of.

Every time somebody says the blues is dead, there are always people who seem to be picking it up. Maybe it goes in and out of popularity, but it doesn’t feel like it’s going away; at least, I think people who want to find it are still always going to find it.

It does kind of go in and out of fashion — and people make a bigger deal out of it than they should, because this music predates the music industry. It doesn’t have to be profitable; it doesn’t always have to be in vogue. It is a genre, and there is an industry surrounding it, but it also is a cultural art form. It doesn’t need anybody’s attention to be valid.


Photo Credit: Merrick Ales

LISTEN: The Whitmore Sisters, “The Ballad of Sissy & Porter”

Artist: The Whitmore Sisters
Hometown: residing in Austin, Texas, and Los Angeles, California; from Denton, Texas
Song: “The Ballad of Sissy & Porter”
Album: Ghost Stories
Release Date: January 21, 2022
Label: Red House Records

In Their Words: “Several of the songs on Ghost Stories were inspired from the loss of friends. I penned this tune with Bonnie Montgomery via The House of Songs and it was inspired by the love and close friendship of Chris Porter, a singer-songwriter who died tragically on tour in 2016. Porter was many things to a lot of people, but his humor and his ability to spin a yarn was pretty remarkable. Even when you were present in the events of the story, Porter had a way of telling it that always seemed more interesting than what my mind could recall. The tall tales of Porter live on in the song that is dressed in Cajun fiddle from my sister Eleanor and accordion from Dirk Powell.” – Bonnie Whitmore


Photo Credit: Vanessa Dingwell

BGS 5+5: Matt the Electrician

Artist: Matt The Electrician
Latest Album: We Imagined an Ending
Hometown: Austin, Texas

Which artist has influenced you the most … and how?

As a songwriter, I have to go with two, often copacetic, though possibly somewhat diametrically opposed forces, Paul Simon and Rickie Lee Jones. The way they both use language in their storytelling has always been inebriating to me, and feels very much like home. They both often stuff words into spaces that feel, all at once, both incongruous and at the same time, absolutely perfect in their placement. It encompasses for me the way I aspire to be as a writer. And musically, they both have a lot of influences in their own songs from early ’50s rock ‘n’ roll and doo wop, which I’ve always felt speaks to me as well. I think that hearing artists that seemed unafraid to change or break whatever rules around the ways you’re allowed to use words and language in a song was always very liberating to me, and made me not feel not quite as weird writing about whatever I wanted to. And all of that freedom, couched in the confines of the pop rock idioms, feels comforting to me, like a cartoon Tasmanian devil wrapped up tightly in a cozy blanket.

What’s your favorite memory from being on stage?

As much as I’m a bit of a planner, I also love it when plans fail, and as a performer, I think I’m often better when I’m improvising. Once when playing a showcase at the Folk Alliance conference, the sound system went out in the room I was playing. It was a smallish room, but was very full of people. The sound guys were gonna go get some more equipment, but knowing I only had a short set time, I stopped them, and did the show unplugged. Everyone gathered in tighter. A friend in the crowd came up on a couple songs and sang backup, unrehearsed. The community vibes were in full effect and the warmth of that particular room is how I wish all shows always felt. I’ve played giant festival stages in front of thousands, and none of it compares to being huddled in a small room with people singing along with you.

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

I’m a voracious reader and a film buff. I’d say that both inform my music a great deal. It never feels super linear, like I rarely sit down to write a song while directly referencing a movie or book, but I know in retrospect, that quite a lot of both filter into the process all the time. I think I tend not to like looking directly at any of my influences per se, but rather, hope to allow them to seep in sideways, when I’m not paying attention. That being said, book-wise, I’m currently reading John Lurie’s memoir, The History of Bones, and watching lots of 1950s film noir.

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

Watching my dad play rhythm 12-string electric guitar in a ’60s rock cover band at a pizza joint in Rogue River, Oregon, when I was 4 or 5 years old. A few of us kids were allowed to watch the first set, and then we were relegated to a camper in the parking lot for the rest of the night. There was a sax player in the band named Willie, and although I don’t remember watching him play the trumpet, he had one in a case at his feet, and I decided then and there that I wanted to be a trumpet player. Soon after, my parents found a $5 trumpet at a garage sale and gave it to me for Christmas. I played that same trumpet through sophomore year of high school before getting a new one and went on to study trumpet in college.

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

I married into a backpacking family, so we spend a good chunk of time every summer in the Sierra Nevada mountains, and I love those wooded forests, always have. But my main draw is the Pacific Ocean. I grew up alongside it, in California and Oregon, and even being in Texas for the last 25 years, I manage to get back to it at least a couple times a year, every year. The overwhelming power of it absolutely hypnotizes me. I think it is literally the rhythm of my thoughts, and I aspire to my actions falling under its spell someday as well.


Photo Credit: Allison Narro

‘Hard Luck Love Song’: It’s Americana Music, But as a Movie

Filmmaker Justin Corsbie’s Hard Luck Love Song is a caring homage to Americana music and specifically to the music and culture born in Corsbie’s hometown of Austin, Texas. The story is based on the famed Todd Snider song “Just Like Old Times” and uses a plethora of songs from many pillars of Americana and folk music. From Townes Van Zandt and Emmylou Harris to Gram Parsons and Daniel Johnston, Hard Luck Love Song sews Snider’s lyrics into the fabric of this timeless music, creating a truly authentic film that immerses the audience in the ethos of Americana.

Asked about music as inspiration, Corsbie says, “Good music creates such a visceral experience, and storytelling songs have always offered a great window into the less explored corners of American life. Todd’s song was a great jumping off point for this film because it set up an amazing vibe and introduced characters that I wanted to know more about. Todd has an uncanny ability to blend drama, humor, grit and wit, and I humbly tried to infuse this film with those ingredients through my lens as a filmmaker.”

As this debut feature has made its rounds at film festivals, piling up awards along the way, it has become clear that Hard Luck Love Song remains a passion project. This talented filmmaker has created a movie using stories, settings, and songs that are incredibly dear to his heart. The film arrived in theaters this month via Roadside Attractions. Check your local listings and see what the heart of Americana music looks like on the silver screen.


Lead photo: Sophia Bush and Michael Dorman in Hard Luck Love Song
Photo credit: Andrea Giacomini. Courtesy of Roadside Attractions

LISTEN: Waylon Payne, “Sunday”

Artist: Waylon Payne
Hometown: Austin, Texas
Song: “Sunday”
Album: Blue Eyes, The Harlot, The Queer, The Pusher & Me: The Lost Act

In Their Words: “Back in 2003, my mom [country singer Sammi Smith] went through a divorce and moved back to Austin, Texas. She was really sick with lung cancer and was actively dying, but she reached out to her friends that lived in Austin hoping to get a little work. I was, at the time, right in the middle of both a terrible relationship and drug problem, and I wasn’t much help. I would come into town often though, as we finally were able to live in a house together again after a lifetime of trying. None of her friends would call her back, and she frustratingly looked at me one day and said, ‘We ought to write a song called “Nobody’s Home on a Sunday.”’ Being high at the time, and shamefully, I blew her off. A couple of years later she was dead, but had written some thoughts to be read at her funeral by her stepsister. ‘Waylon, the one thing I want for you is to get yourself off of speed.’ It killed me to hear those words. After I cleaned up and had a few years under my belt, I moved back to Nashville to pick up with my music career. I moved into my first home by myself in ten years at Thanksgiving. As I sat in my new place, alone with my thoughts, I clearly heard my momma say again, ‘We ought to write a song called “Nobody’s Home on a Sunday.”’ So, I did. I love the fact that my momma and I did something together, even if it was after she died. I love you momma, and I did what you asked. I hope you all enjoy this song as much as I do.” — Waylon Payne


Photo credit: Pooneh Ghana

Asleep at the Wheel Turns 50, But Ray Benson Didn’t Know If It Would Last

The term eclectic hardly seems broad enough to accurately describe either the approach of the marvelous band Asleep at the Wheel, or the energetic and fluid style of its lead vocalist and guitarist Ray Benson. The band he formed along with Lucky Oceans and Leroy Preston while farm-sitting in Paw Paw, West Virginia, 50 years ago is now an American cultural institution, although things didn’t really explode for them until they relocated to Austin.

Their latest release, Half a Hundred Years, pays homage to Asleep at the Wheel’s diverse and impressive legacy, although it’s one Benson freely admits he never seriously thought would continue for 50 years.

“Well, when you’re a 19-year-old kid, you don’t even know if the band will be around for 10 years,” he tells BGS with a laugh. “It really wasn’t something at the time that I had any notions about, things about legacy or impact. We were a band that wanted to play a lot of different types of music and enjoyed being around each other. That’s kind of been the trademark ever since.”

Country and Western swing are the foundational genres of their music, but the ensemble is hardly restricted or limited by them. Over their tenure Asleep at the Wheel’s repertoire has also included R&B, blues, jazz, rock and pop, while their albums and live shows feature a constantly evolving blend of originals and inspired covers. In addition, the band seamlessly maintained its trademark sound through numerous personnel changes, while navigating shifts in audience tastes and music industry practices.

“I’ve always been a real music lover, and that’s what’s driven the band all these years,” Benson continues. “Of course, the music business today is so different from the way it was when we started out. Hell, when we started they didn’t even have fax machines. You really thought in terms of radio and marketing a song, and you were trying to get your album played and then that would be the springboard for having it sold in the stores. Today, there’s such a focus on streaming. Vinyl’s made a bit of a comeback, but that’s because CDs are doing so poorly. Then the technology changed so dramatically, with the ability to sonically do things in the studio that we didn’t even dream about back in the ’70s.”

Indeed, Benson’s entire career — inside and outside the band — has been one of variety and experimentation. He taught himself to play the guitar as a 9-year-old. The first song he ever played completely came from a beer commercial he heard during broadcasts of his hometown Philadelphia Phillies. Benson teamed with his sister in a folk group The Four G’s at 11, then while in college he encountered a group whose concept he utilized (with variations) upon forming Asleep at the Wheel. It was that Commander Cody & His Lost Planet Airmen concert in Washington, D.C., where Benson saw and heard a band brilliantly mixing multiple genres in a free-flowing performance mode.

Following their time in West Virginia, Asleep at the Wheel relocated out west in the early ‘70s, playing in various East Bay clubs in California. A show where they shared the stage with Van Morrison, followed by his raving about them in Rolling Stone, began to open some doors. They toured with Black country vocalist Stoney Edwards in 1971, cut a debut LP that did well in the Southwest, then moved to Austin in 1973 after being encouraged by Doug Sahm and Willie Nelson. Upon their arrival in Texas, their second LP was issued by Epic.

However it was after their third LP, with the Top 10 country hit “The Letter That Johnny Walker Read,” that Asleep at the Wheel emerged as a top attraction. By 1978 they were winning the first of their 10 Grammys. They survived a lean period in the ’80s, then bounced back in the ’90s. Benson made another savvy decision that helped sustain the band’s success, recruiting several top country artists to cut two Bob Wills tribute LPs. Then came another hit in 2000, “Roly Poly,” with the [Dixie] Chicks. As a result, Asleep at the Wheel became one of the few country acts that’s managed to have chart records across four consecutive decades.

Their journey is duly reflected in Half a Hundred Years. “I looked at this album as a way to kind of look back and ahead at the same time,” Benson continues. “It covers everything that we’ve done and are doing.” Besides including such heavyweight guest stars as Lyle Lovett, George Strait, Lee Ann Womack, Willie Nelson and Emmylou Harris, the CD is sequenced in an intriguing fashion. The first 11 songs are new tracks featuring original band members. Songs 12-16 (with the exception of 14) feature the current band teaming with various band alumni. Cuts 17-19 are previously unreleased material, while track 14 combines the current band with two of Asleep at the Wheel’s former female singers. “We’re putting this out pretty much every way (configuration) that you can,” Benson adds.

Despite the pandemic, Asleep at the Wheel’s already done several shows and plans more in the near future. Benson has also branched out over the years to do things outside the band arena, among them being on the board of Austin City Limits, a role that led to his hosting the regional TV series Texas Music Scene for several years. He’s also been a prolific producer on LPs by Dale Watson, Suzy Bogguss, Aaron Watson, James Hand and Carolyn Wonderland, plus singles for Willie Nelson, Aaron Neville, Brad Paisley, Pam Tillis, Trace Adkins, Merle Haggard, and Vince Gill. Benson even cut a solo LP, Beyond Time, in 2003 and his autobiography Comin’ Right at Ya was published in 2015. In addition, he’s a founding member of the Rhythm & Blues Foundation, and the owner of a recording studio and label (Bismeaux Studios/Bismeaux Records).

Though it doesn’t seem possible that there are things in the music world Benson hasn’t done yet, he’s quick to list a few people he’d love to work with. “Well, I always wanted to record with Tony Bennett, but he’s retired now,” Benson says. “I’ve sung with Boz Scaggs, but have never done a whole album with him. I’d really enjoy doing that. Also, Billy Gibbons of ZZ Top. He’s someone else I’ve sung with, but really would like to do a complete project.”

He concludes, “At this point I really don’t even think about how much longer Asleep at the Wheel will go on because who would ever have given us 50 years? But I can say that I’m still really enjoying it, and this latest project and going out and playing to support it, and the reaction of the people even with everything that’s going on now… well, that tells me we’ve still got a lot of folks out there who enjoy what we do.”


Photo credit: Mike Shore

WATCH: Natalie Jane Hill, “Plants and Flowers That Do Not Grow Here”

Artist: Natalie Jane Hill
Hometown: Austin, Texas
Song: “Plants and Flowers That Do Not Grow Here”
Album: Solely
Release Date: October 29, 2021
Label: Dear Life Records

In Their Words: “‘Plants and Flowers That Do Not Grow Here’ is one of my more personal songs on the album. It’s about trying to navigate through a time of addiction while in a disassociated state. I had spent some time trying to distinguish reality from illusion, and I wanted this song to capture the dreamlike quality I was lost in. This video was captured in places that are very familiar to me. It’s based around my neighborhood in San Marcos, Texas. And it ends in the town where I grew up, in Wimberley, Texas. I wanted there to be more of an urban feel to this video while still intertwining some natural aspects. The opening scene is actually footage from a house show I played. It’s meant to portray the idea of me continuing on into the night after the show. I do a lot of aimless walking when I need to clear my head and I felt like this song needed that to be the essence. I love how Jordan Moser captured the early light as dawn approached. There’s definitely a dreamlike quality to this song as these revelations sort of unveil with the morning sunrise. ” — Natalie Jane Hill


Photo credit: Julian Neel

WATCH: Lyle Lovett, “Teach Me About Love” (From ‘Austin City Limits,’ 1997)

Artist: Lyle Lovett
Hometown: Klein, Texas
Song: “Teach Me About Love”
Album: Mighty Fine: An Austin City Limits Tribute to Walter Hyatt
Release Date: October 1, 2021
Label: Omnivore Recordings

Editor’s Note: This Lyle Lovett performance of Walter Hyatt’s “Teach Me About Love” was filmed in 1997 for Austin City Limits as part of a tribute to Hyatt, who was killed in a 1996 plane crash. Cut from the episode due to time constraints, the performance has been unseen until now, coinciding with the release of the full concert on CD and digital, titled Mighty Fine: An Austin City Limits Tribute to Walter Hyatt. Four unheard Hyatt recordings also appear on the album.

In Their Words: “Walter Hyatt is one of the most creative souls to come out of the Austin music scene in the past two decades. Although raised in Spartanburg, S.C., and spent his last years in Nashville, he represented the spirit of Austin. An artist of personal vision, original style and artistic integrity. During the late ‘70s and ‘80s, Uncle Walt’s Band developed a strong loyal following in Austin thanks to their expressive blend of music styles, songs that were street smart, energetic, honest, and inspirational to a lot of younger singer-songwriters like me. Walter Hyatt explored many styles – New Orleans jazz, country honky-tonk, with a bit of Elvis and course Bob Wills. His dry sense of humor made him very special in the eyes of fans and critics. His death was a personal loss for those of us who knew him, and for anyone who ever heard his music. This program is a celebration of extraordinary music by an extraordinary man with a gift for reaching hearts and minds of so many people.” — Lyle Lovett

BGS 5+5: Kelley Mickwee

Artist: Kelley Mickwee
Hometown: Austin, Texas, by way of Memphis, Tennessee

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

All of the elements. Mother Nature, the universe and the natural world are my religion and informs my spirituality, so I’d say nature inspires everything I do. As far as on the daily, I have to do something outside at some point no matter what the weather or where I am or how busy I get. It could be anything, from digging and planting in the garden, pruning, cutting the grass, and watering the plants to taking long hikes with my dog, Moe. If I am in town, you can usually find me at one of our off-leash dog hiking trails with Moe. It’s very centering and really impacts my mental health and general well being. Especially when the sun is shining. And THAT, in turn, gives me the inspiration, energy and right mindset to sit down with a pen or with my guitar to work on a song. Or do anything, really.

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

Not enough. Ha! I learned pretty early on as a songwriter that for me to write the best lines I can, I have to just speak from experience from the first person and be as open and honest as I can or am comfortable. I definitely have many “character” songs about other people or from their stories, especially songs that are co-writes, because then you are sharing a narrative with another writer so who knows how many people/experiences are wrapped up in that one song? But, in general, I tend to write from a first-person experience or relationship. Especially if it’s a song I write alone or start on my own before sharing with a co-writer.

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

I think as songwriters, we are constantly getting input from all kinds of sources and storing it away for when we sit down to write a song. This could be anything from a conversation we had, or another song we heard on the radio, or a movie we just watched. I have written several songs from quick lines I wrote down while watching a film or a documentary. And I am always searching for inspiration and guidance from poetry, especially lately. I took an online poetry course in 2020 and it really gave me some new tools to use when writing lyrics.

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

This one was easy! A locally sourced vegan meal in London with Paul McCartney. I am actually a pescatarian who doesn’t eat or drink dairy, so not technically a vegan. But…when in London with Paul McCartney!

What’s the toughest time you ever had writing a song?

Every time! It is not easy for me to complete a song. Very very rarely do they just roll off the end of my pen, or float down from the sky, just waiting to be written down. I have many songwriter friends who have story after story of songs just spilling out of them and it makes me envious of that feeling. I do have one maybe two that came out, say, in a day. But even those were painful and agonizing at times. Like finishing a thesis that’s due the next day. Gosh! That sounds awful. I just mean, I want every line to count and be the best line it can be and as honest and original as possible. I think that’s where the good stuff lives. And so, if it takes me a bit longer to get there, so be it. Because the end result, a song I am proud of and can’t wait to sing, is SO sweet and rewarding, in all of the ways.


Photo credit: Taylor Prinsen

LISTEN: Carolyn Wonderland, “Fortunate Few”

Artist: Carolyn Wonderland
Hometown: Austin, Texas
Song: “Fortunate Few”
Album: Tempting Fate
Release Date: October 8, 2021
Label: Alligator Records

In Their Words: “Well, sometimes we write ourselves advice we don’t take for a while, don’t we? I started writing ‘Fortunate Few’ one hard, bleary-eyed morning on the road while holding my head in one hand and trying to count my blessings on the fingers of the other. It originally had a more John Prine feel to it (think: ‘In Spite of Ourselves’), but I thought better of trying to emulate the master in a form so closely related to that chord structure and started banging away on some acoustic blues. The title made me realize I also must have been listening to a lot of Delbert McClinton the night before. That is never a bad thing!” — Carolyn Wonderland


Photo credit: Ismael Quintanilla