When Rushmere was released in March of this year – Mumford & Sons’ first album in seven years – critics noted its homecoming feel. The songs, the sound, the oh-so-yearning lyrics; they all combined to take the listener back to the beginning.
Tracks like “Malibu” and “Caroline” do not, perhaps, hit the wild highs of “Little Lion Man.” There’s a subtler expression at play in the album, reflecting an evolution from youthful exuberance to the quiet wisdom that only comes with experience. But a decade and a half on from Sigh No More, the band have clearly doubled back from their more experimental forays – 2018’s Delta; Marcus Mumford’s solo project, (self-titled) – to celebrate what brought them together in the first place. In Rushmere they had returned to their rootsy roots, and found peace there.
This month, the band heads back out on tour to Chicago, Philadelphia, Montréal, and more. In November, they’ll return to Europe, and ultimately to the UK, where their final leg will climax at London’s 20,000-capacity O2 arena. Months on the road this year and playing to sold-out venues have proven one thing: people still can’t get enough of them.
And yet the world is a very different place to when their debut album hit the shelves in 2009. When Mumford & Sons first toured Sigh No More, Barack Obama was President of the United States. In the UK, the biggest question on people’s lips was what Kate Middleton would be wearing at her royal marriage to Prince William.
Today’s social backdrop feels meaner, more fractious, less optimistic. Widening rifts in society have made it harder for people to celebrate shared values, even cherish the same moments together. Mumford have split with one of their own band members as a direct consequence of our rapid political polarization. What is it, then, that felt so fresh back then – and that still appeals today?
Matt Menefee first encountered the Mumford sound when his progressive bluegrass band, Cadillac Sky, were at their peak. “We were heading up out of Texas to play Telluride in 2010, and we played some gigs en route,” says Menefee. “So we’d stopped at a hotel, and there was Marcus on MTV, and someone said, ‘Oh, this band’s headlining the festival.’ Our lead singer already had the record and so we listened to it all the way up there.”
For a group of musicians that favored a raucous, punk rock vibe, Mumford’s gleeful-yet-soulful energy was something new. “We were like, ‘Oh man, this is something else!’” Menefee recalls. “To hear these cohesive, in-your-face anthems… it was raging. The melodies and the lyrics were beautifully crafted as well. It was a force that blew our guys away.”
Mumford’s Telluride set became an instant classic (it’s still spoken of in awe today). “It was just a party,” remembers Jerry Douglas, whom the band had asked to join them on stage. “The guys looked so excited. I’ve been to that festival so many times and you can get jaded. But I’m watching them jump up and down and I’m going, this is what it’s supposed to feel like.” He describes that electric closing set as one of the best he’s seen in Telluride’s 51 iterations.
Douglas is one of the many Americana musicians that Mumford and bandmates Ben Lovett, and Ted Dwane sought out to learn from in their early years and have built enduring relationships with. They included Douglas in their performance at the SNL 50th anniversary show, after he had recorded lap steel for Rushmere track “Caroline” – although he laughingly points out that it didn’t make the final mix. “It changed it, it took the band away from just sounding like themselves. I kind of Jackson Browne-ed them a little bit…”
Those collaborative relationships are one of the reasons that Mumford & Sons continue to matter, not least to the musical communities they’ve done so much to elevate. After their first meeting, Menefee became a regular guest artist with the band and has been their go-to banjo player since Winston Marshall’s departure. “You watch them interact with people,” says Menefee, “and they’re so humble, so sweet, so encouraging. They really look after everybody. They’re good, good dudes.”
In August, Mumford & Sons relaunched their Railroad Revival Tour, whose 2011 iteration involved travelling the Southwest in vintage trains alongside Old Crow Medicine Show and Edward Sharpe and the Magnetic Zeros. This summer’s rolling festival picked up where that one had left off, traveling between New Orleans and Vermont. The long list of musicians joining them on board ranged from Nathaniel Rateliff and Ketch Secor to Lainey Wilson and Molly Tuttle to Trombone Shorty and Chris Thile.
Lucius’s Jess Wolfe was one of the musicians sharing the stage with Mumford, after forging a bond with Marcus at celebrated, now infamous jams arranged by Brandi Carlile in Joni Mitchell’s living room. “Sitting listening to our hero sing – that’s such a humbling experience, it’s going to bring people close quite quickly,” laughs Wolfe. She describes Mumford & Sons as “natural collaborators – they feel like brothers from the minute that you step foot in the room with them.” It’s that comforting familiarity that expresses itself in their music and forms a major part of their appeal.
Having first heard their sound while working on the Brooklyn open mic circuit, Wolfe was struck by how it reflected the songs that her peers were writing, “except that these were songs that everyone could suddenly, with ease and without thinking, just sing along to. It was like a conversation you were having with an old friend.”
Their pulsing, anthemic melodies, underlaid with a signature stomp, quickly became an in-demand and much replicated sound in the industry. Banjo and mandolin players found themselves getting far more calls for session work. For musicians like Menefee who had spent years justifying their choice of instrument and trying to persuade a sceptical mainstream of its charms, the change was remarkable. “When Mumford hit, it was like, banjo’s cool!”
“I’d go do demo sessions for songwriters on Music Row and for years the publishers would ask you for ‘like, a Mumford thing,’” Menefee continues. “And I should say that’s not all they do – their Delta record is one of my favorites, with its beautiful marriage of electro pop and effects. But I witnessed the success of the other bands that followed in Mumford’s wake. They had a huge influence.”
Douglas believes it’s no exaggeration to say they changed the sound of the musical landscape. “And people either liked it or they didn’t. But it’s a heartbeat, you know? That’s the thing about it. It gets people excited and it makes them feel good. That endorphin rush happens and everybody goes to their happy place. And we need that right now. We need to go to our happy place.”
There, perhaps, lies the key to their successful return after seven years away from the limelight. Every night they play, Menefee sees crowds “losing themselves” in the singalongs. “There’s an anger and a vulnerability that really pierces the heart,” he says. “And it’s so freaking singable.”
The band themselves have admitted to be “stoked” to be headlining festivals in the UK again and there’s little sense of ego at their appearances. Instead, they host shows that have the feel of a party at which they themselves are enthusiastic guests. “It’s just so much fun,” says Menefee. “There’s a real joy in it, a rest from all the chaos.”
Perhaps, right now, we all need a bit more Mumford in our lives.
A fantastic new off-Broadway play, titled The Porch on Windy Hill: A New Play with Old Music, has been performed across the U.S. in Vermont, Pennsylvania, and Illinois, before landing at Urban Stages on West 30th Street in New York City where it’s currently playing until October 12, 2025. Written by Sherry Stregack Lutken, Lisa Helmi Johanson, Morgan Morse, and David M. Lutken, and directed by Sherry Lutken, The Porch on Windy Hill was born during the pandemic, when Sherry Lutken found herself having extensive conversations with one of her closest childhood friends, one who happens to be biracial, about their personal perspective and experiences. Sherry Lutken’s formal idea coalesced around April 2021 and the first full performance took place that September in Ivoryton, Connecticut.
The show centers on Mira, a biracial Korean-American classical violinist, and her boyfriend Beckett, a Ph.D. student passionate about the history and connections of folk music in America, as the couple leave their isolated apartment in Brooklyn and head for the lively pickin’ parties and folk festivals in Atlanta, Georgia. When their navigations and a fussy van engine take them on a detour into the Blue Ridge Mountains of North Carolina, a pit stop leads to a run-in with Mira’s estranged white grandfather Edgar, and Mira and Beck both find more than they bargained for. The encounter goes on to change the three characters in incredibly profound ways.
The music serves as a beautiful and powerful reflection of the many emotions that run high throughout the play, as well as a story-rich catalyst that fills in the blanks of who these people are, what they know and don’t know about one another, and, of course, why Mira and her grandfather grew apart after being so close during her childhood.
The boldness of The Porch on Windy Hill comes from its many contrasts and complements. The story unfolds entirely on the front porch of Edgar’s North Carolina home, which sits in the shadow of an unseen Mount Mitchell. David Lutken, Morgan Morse, and Tora Nogami Alexander – who play Edgar, Beckett, and Mira respectively – move in, about, and out of the setting in very natural ways. A tension rises between Mira and Edgar for most of the first half and the confined space only heightens the impact of the actors’ moods on the audience. The discomfort, though, isn’t just social anxiety. The core narrative mysteries and tensions of Porch are tied to its real world relatability around the ways different folks view race, politics, and in this story especially, folk music.
The first half of the play is also music-heavy, with an abundance of different folk tunes showcasing Lutken, Morgan, and Alexander’s skills on a potpourri of instruments from banjo to guitar to violin to the Chinese erhu, to dulcimer – an instrument that’s key to the story and one special aspect of the cross-generational bond between Mira, her mother, and Edgar. Over the course of the show, Edgar’s home becomes part pickin’ stage and part time capsule for Mira and Edgar to rekindle their long-lost connection. This isn’t without its thorny moments, which peak at the revelation that Mira and Edgar’s estrangement comes from trauma she experienced as a child when her cousin cruelly called her a racial slur, only for her grandfather to turn a blind eye to the incident. The subsequent chasm that formed left Mira and Edgar unsure of how to even begin addressing their discomfort, before their musical connection – and a bit of moonshine – helped to clear the air and start to mend decades-old wounds.
The Porch on Windy Hill isn’t about safe spaces. It isn’t about breaking into folk song to comedically cut the tension, and it isn’t about being a modern PSA for Asian-Americans. But what it does do is give its audiences a reminder of what it means to share space with people who don’t hold a carbon copy of one’s own views. It also gives permission to express anger, hurt, and confusion over the unique pain that comes with discrimination and ignorance of others’ lived experiences.
These characters think, react, question, demand, and forgive in wholly believable fashion. The Porch on Windy Hill gets and keeps you invested. From the first time Mira, Beck, and Edgar play “Little Old Log Cabin in the Lane” together to the moment Mira walks off saying, “Kamsahamnida” – “thank you” in Korean – to Edgar, before he goes inside to finally call Mira’s parents. It’s everything a stellar musical is: thought provoking, entertaining, emotionally stirring, and something that imparts a feeling of growth. The depth of personal stories that hold The Porch together make this play ideal for partnering with the legacy-laden nature of folk music.
David Lutken, Sherry Lutken, Morgan Morse, and Tora Nogami Alexander jumped on a group call and spoke with BGS about the multi-layered nuance behind The Porch on Windy Hill and how all the aspects of the play, from the conflicts to the specificity of the music utilized – even the story behind one made up fiddle convention! – had meaning and purpose to enhance the impact of the characters and the story.
What drove the decision to set Porch on the Windy Hill in the mountains of North Carolina, as opposed to another part of Appalachia or even a completely different part of the U.S.?
David M. Lutken: [Porch on The Windy Hill] could be set in many different parts of the United States, but [choosing North Carolina] had to do with several things. The music that I have been most familiar with all my life kind of emanates from a little bit of bottleneck down in the southeastern United States. And also it had to do with the specific instrument – the dulcimer – being something that comes from the Appalachian region, even though its earlier ancestors come from different places as well.
But it had to do with that, with instrumentation, the draw of the entire Appalachian region of the United States, and the metaphor in the show of Mount Mitchell and the highest point in all of the Appalachian region of the United States and all of those things stated there. I have to say, the fact that North Carolina is a decidedly “purple” place these days also has to do with it, particularly Western North Carolina, where you have places like Asheville that are very, very liberal, surrounded by counties that are very conservative, which happens in many other parts of the United States. But all of those things together I would say, pointed me [toward choosing North Carolina as the play’s setting.]
Morgan Morse: I’ll add one last very silly reason that influenced our decision, which is just geography. We have this couple, which is traveling from the East Coast, and they’re on their way to Atlanta, [Georgia], and that’s their next goal. So in general, we were also looking to find a location that sat pretty nicely between those two places.
(L to R) Morgan Morse, Tora Nogami Alexander, and David M. Lutken perform ‘The Porch on Windy Hill.’ Photo by Ben Hider.
When it came to determining how the music of the show would not only link the characters and the scenes together but also keep them together, how did you discern the balance of realism, optimism, idealism, and cynicism in the pickin’ performance scenes – particularly the early ones when Mira hesitates to participate – especially given how uncertain and outright tense the characters’ interactions become over the course of the play?
Tora Nogami Alexander: That is the most difficult part of the play and that is the thing that we focused on the most, with me being sort of the new addition to this version of this play. We practiced a lot of this music before we really dug into how the performance would translate. And so, as we were in the real meat of the rehearsals, [director] Sherry [Lutken] was really, really helpful in crafting the balance of the emotional baggage that Mira has and that everybody has within the play.
For me, what’s awesome about doing this play and what’s really fun for me, is that I do think I discover something new every time I do it. Every night, I really listen to my partners and we all listen to each other. It might change every day – how certain things hit us, how we process things. The bones are there but it’s been really interesting to try and tightrope that every night because it is a little bit different every single night, which is exciting and cool. Working with Sherry, she was so helpful in translating it because she’s watching the play and so she’s able to give us tools to help tell a story in a way that people can understand.
MM: Because there are so many emotions sitting under the surface in the first act, especially the first half of the first act, you want to strike a balance of making sure that it’s coming through without feeling like you’re overselling everything that’s happening underneath. So, throughout the results of that – Tora said “tightrope,” that was a word that we used a lot during rehearsals – especially for the character of Mira, she is figuring out what she wants from this situation and she’s figuring out how comfortable she is, how much she wants to engage. It’s something that Tora [does] so beautifully and it’s so fun to watch every night to see exactly how [the emotions] are hitting her and how she translates that to the way she plays [her violin].
DML: Well, the interesting part to me has been Tora’s ability to convey things musically. We set out to make a musical play where the music is a part of the dialogue and the ability to express vulnerability and frustration and a spectrum of emotions without opening your mouth, just playing violin, or even the erhu, or the other things that we all play. But particularly for Miss Alexander, I think that’s a unique talent of hers, and a unique thing to this show, particularly the first half of the first act. That’s a big part of what is happening with the music; it’s [songs] that certainly [Morse and Alexander] are familiar with, and they’re having to play them in a really weird situation.
You all mention in another interview that you wanted music that was “intrinsic rather than performative.” That the songs “aren’t decorative.” That said, the folk songs selected for Porch On The Windy Hill seem like they aren’t exclusive in their ability to convey or heighten the specific emotions desired in a scene. As such, what is it about the songs in the play that make each of them essential in a way other folk songs are not?
MM: On one hand, I can tell you all the reasons why these particular songs ended up there. And I do think that they work very well and they serve very specific purposes. At the same time, you’re kind of right that there are a billion other folk songs that could also fit into those slots. To me, that’s actually the amazing thing: American folk songs cover so many themes and some of them are universal themes and that’s what was so cool about putting these songs into the show.
There’s consideration like, “We need a fast song here.” “We need a slow song here.” “We need a song with this particular mood.” “Okay, we want to break up the flow of things by having an instrumental, what instrumental can we have?” So there’s those kinds of nuts and bolts and there’s the little ways in which, even though these songs were not written for the show, they still managed to reference and inform the action within their lyrics as well, because we’re singing about these universal things like love and loss and family and travel and childhood.
The question is, “What’s going to move these characters in this moment?” Whether that’s moving them emotionally or moving them forward story-wise. And sometimes it’s something like the history or the context of this song that can lead to a really interesting conversation. There’s a couple moments like that in the show, where the history of the song [being played] then becomes a catalyst for conversation between the characters and that leads to explorations of the themes of the show in that discussion because they’re all intertwined: the music, the country, and all those various things.
At a certain point, Beck abruptly recalls from where he recognized Edgar’s name. It was on a specific live recording of the 1972 Charlestown Fiddlers’ Convention, where Edgar is credited as performing with the likes of Roscoe Holcomb, Ola Belle Reed, Lily May Ledford. What was the inspiration behind this fictional recording and why select Holcomb, Reed, and Ledford as the artists meant to be Edgar’s connection to the real world?
DLM: I had met Bascom Lamar Lunsford on a couple of occasions when I was a boy and went to the Asheville Folk Festival regularly in the late 1960s. The others, Roscoe Holcomb and Ola Belle Reed, I will confess they had partly to do with Edgar’s politics. I was trying to keep Edgar a bit ambiguous in his set-in-his-ways old guy [personality] and make him a little bit more open-minded.
The particular selections we chose for the fictional Charlestown Fiddler’s Convention of 1972 were to try to make something that sounded real and give it a little bit of a historical novel perspective, and also to raise Edgar’s banjo playing – elevate it greater than mine could ever be – and to make it so that he would have been in on something like that if it indeed had existed. And with West Virginia being a little bit different from Virginia in its history, and also the history of music there, we just tried to pile on the old-time music references without skewing too much in one direction or the other. In terms of picking for the Bill Monroe Bean Blossom Festival or the Newport Folk Festival, if you know what I mean. So it was really just to put all of that together in a little bit of a historical novel sense and also to paint things with a little bit of an open minded brush.
Over the course of scene five to scene seven, the show moves from the American folk song, “Mole in the Ground,” to the Korean children’s mountain rabbit folk song, “Santokki (산토끼),” and finally the murder ballad “Pretty Polly,” which brings the unique sound of the Chinese erhu from the former into the latter and prompts a conversation about musical traditionalism – which instruments “fit” in a pickin’ party and which don’t.
What are your thoughts on Edgar’s view on the sounds that belong at a pickin’ party or jam? Furthermore, what do each of you think of as the central quality that makes something “folk” music and, in what way do you think people who may share Edgar’s view might be persuaded to consider a wider scope of sonic acceptance?
DLM: Well, I wish you had been at our last post-show hootenanny. Morgan, Tora, Hubby Jenkins of the Carolina Chocolate Drops, and a couple other folks were there and we all did a version of [Chappell Roan’s] “Pink Pony Club.”
It’s instrumentation, it’s sonic qualities of what’s going on, and it’s also the people who are doing it that are all part of how music becomes what it is. I personally am all for the erhu and the tuba and the bagpipes at a hootenanny all playing “Pink Pony Club,” because, it’s as Louis Armstrong said, “All music is folk music. I don’t see no horses listening to it.”
MM: I’m very much in the same boat. And it’s a very, for lack of a better term, fiddly question because it’s another one of these moments where it’s like, “Okay, [Edgar’s] got an open-minded streak about him but he still has limitations, you know?” Like, “Don’t bring an electric guitar, don’t play stuff out of your computer.” So there’s that technological line, which I think you could make an interesting argument for in this day and age, that this technological line maybe shouldn’t exist as much as it does.
You can make the argument that the kind of musicians who could really be considered to be making folk music at this point, and who definitely share a lot in common with the evolution of American folk music, are those who write hip-hop and rap. It’s the same kind of communal development where all of these different people are getting together for essentially, jams, where they’re taking things that they know and they’re remixing them, they’re learning from each other, and advancing with each other. So, you know, I’d be curious to have somebody come in with a little turntable to a hootenanny one time – that could be fun!
TNA: Folk music has to do with people and folk music exists everywhere, not just here. So yes, you know, mixing it up doesn’t seem too crazy to me, since organically it’s what would happen as our world gets more globalized.
Tora Nogami Alexander and Morgan Morse perform an intimate moment during ‘The Porch on Windy Hill.’ Photo by Ben Hider.
When Edgar, Beck, and Mira all exchange heated words with each other and Mira eventually picks up her mother’s dulcimer to play “My Horses Ain’t Hungry,” she’s obviously coming down from a tense and vulnerable place. What combination of emotions is Mira leaning into when she turns to the dulcimer and this song for a short reprieve and, as an actor, what kinds of thoughts and/or experiences are you calling upon to bring out the expression Mira is feeling at that moment?
TNA: In that moment, I think a lot about Elmira, [Mira’s grandmother]. I think a lot about her grandmother and the relationship of her grandmother and Mira’s mother. And I think about that relationship a lot during that song. For me, I think that moment is basically when all the shit blows up, it sucks, and Mira’s in this place where she’s finally alone and working through what happened. But [she’s] also realizing, through this song – one that was her mom’s favorite song and that maybe Mira learned from her grandma – that [it] wonderfully encapsulates the whole story. That [Mira’s] mom needed to get out of North Carolina and she chose the life she did for whatever reason. For me, that moment is sort of thinking about the mom-and-grandma relationship, how they got there. That also is why it leads to Mira calling her mom. She’s thinking through this song and then realizing that she needs to tell someone about it, someone who understands, and that would be her mom.
Sherry Lutken: I think for me, sort of what we talked about is that the dulcimer is the embodiment, in some ways, of Elmira – this sort of ghostly figure that hangs over the play and is there and ever present. They keep talking about her, they keep going back to her. That moment is very much about the matriarchy.
Mira’s surrounded by men the entire show and so the dulcimer and that line of women – of her mother, her grandmother, and the women before who are the reason for Mira’s birth – they mean that emotionally. That’s what I think Tora captures so beautifully and what that moment really embodies, that need to reach out to her mother even though she doesn’t really know what to say, even though she’s in a moment of flux, and even though she knows it’s going to be an upsetting thing. Still, she wants to talk. She’s not gonna let her mother evade the subject anymore. And she’s not gonna let Edgar avoid talking about it anymore – it’s time. That’s a wonderful moment of decisiveness. We get to see Mira’s decisiveness and this is a moment of the emotion really informing what she does next and the choices that she makes in the moment.
Given that the polarization of the U.S. has only become more aggravated since Porch On The Windy Hill was first performed in 2021, how much and in what ways would you say the impact of the story’s vision for self-reflection, forgiveness, and understanding has been affected?
DLM: When we were talking on opening night, Lisa’s [Helmi Johanson] husband was there with us at the party and he said it was ironic that what was written in 2021 has now become a period piece in several ways, because things have changed.
SL: Our relationship to the pandemic and to that time has changed. It’s amazing how quickly we forget that when we were in it, we thought we would never get out of it. We would never get to move forward because we were all stuck and it felt like forever. And now everything has changed. I think the thing for me is that, yes, the play rings differently now, but it’s still such a universal story. I think everyone can see themselves in each one of these characters in some small way, if they’re open to it. I think the play lends itself to self-reflection and also what we still want is the idea that there is hope and that there is a possibility of seeing each other’s humanity.
MM: I completely agree. I think it’s very easy right now to feel like there is no hope and that the wounds are just too deep. And whether it’s realistic or not, whether or not you think it’s idealistic or not, I think the thing that’s wonderful about the show is that it does open up a space where reconciliation is possible. Growth is possible. Forgiveness is possible. Owning up to your mistakes is possible, which is something that we’re missing a lot right now.
That and I think being really willing to admit that one is wrong and to take accountability for those things as well. I think stories like Porch on the Windy Hill do exist in the world and also I want more of them to exist in our world. So it’s a wish for how I think the world is in some ways and very much for how I wish the world could be.
Banjoist, songwriter, and podcaster Hilary Hawke has had a meandering journey with music, starting with guitar and clarinet before finding her musical home in the banjo and “becoming obsessed with it” during her late teens. Inspired by the storied folk tradition of upstate New York, Hawke now makes her home in New York City, where she leads her own bluegrass band and plays for various other groups as part of a close-knit roots music community.
New York City is uniquely ripe with gigs in theater and Hawke has found herself playing on Broadway for musicals such as Oklahoma! and Bright Star and composing music for puppet shows, among many other diverse projects. She has also started her own podcast, Banjo Chat, where she speaks about the banjo and banjo music with folks that love the instrument as much as she does.
BGS connected with Hilary Hawke to discuss the making of her new album, Lift Up This Old World, her time on Broadway, her new job teaching bluegrass at Columbia University, and more.
Can you tell me a bit about how you got started on the banjo?
Hilary Hawke: I actually went to school for classical music on clarinet and guitar, but I realized I didn’t know how I was going to get a job in music or what kind of job I wanted… composition? Teaching? Music therapy? I got to a point where I was like, “This all seems very serious and I’m not actually having much fun with music.”
During that time, I was writing songs on guitar and I just picked up a banjo for fun, to do something outside of school. I grew up in upstate New York and we have a lot of folk music and a lot of great banjo influences up here like Tony Trischka, Béla Fleck, Pete Seeger, the Gibson Brothers. And, honest to God, it was just the thing I started creating music on all the time. I started playing it nonstop. I ended up moving into New York City just on a whim. There were lots of opportunities to perform and I was able to take some lessons with Tony Trischka. New York is like– you just think you’re going to try it out and then suddenly 5 years have gone by.
Influences like the New Lost City Ramblers, Mike Seeger, Bruce Molsky, and Fred Cockerham seem to be threaded through your old-time and bluegrass style. Do you have a specific moment you can remember that sparked your love for these musicians?
I think that it’s always through popular culture that you get inspired to dive into the deeper stuff. Alison Krauss had a record called Too Late to Cry and I remember I heard the banjo on that and was like “What’s that sound?” It was Tony Trischka playing on her record. Similarly, I heard the banjo on the Dixie Chicks’ albums and wanted to know how it worked. Through those more popular bands, I got interested in banjo. And then I went to the festivals and I heard about the old guys. People would give me rides and we’d be listening to their CDs in the car. It was a lot of word of mouth like, “Oh you gotta hear Fred Cockerham and Tommy Jarrell!”
You started teaching banjo in Brooklyn at the Jalopy Theatre back in 2006. How has that community influenced your growth as a teacher and performer over the last 20 years?
I really cut my teeth at Jalopy. I was there for 10 years or so and I was able to develop a curriculum for teaching. I learned how to tear things apart and break them down, as far as playing the banjo. I gained the skills I’m now using to teach at Columbia University. I think Jalopy is a great breeding ground for performers, artists, and teachers to develop. It’s open-minded and exploratory.
Tell me about your new album, Lift Up This Old World. Where does it fall in the trajectory of your music-making?
This is the third album I’ve released under my own name. The first album I made was more of a singer-songwriter album; writing songs was really my entry point into folk music. Then I released an instrumental old-time album. This one combines songwriting and picking, but it is much more bluegrass-forward.
I noticed that you play both clawhammer and bluegrass-style banjo on the record. How do you relate to the two different styles and where do you feel more at home?
I started with fingerpicking and got into bluegrass first, but I just wanted to do it all. I wanted to be involved with a wide range of music. Sometimes a person would ask, “Do you want to come play with my old-time band?” And I had to say no because I couldn’t play that style. I quickly realized I didn’t like to say no! I wanted to be able to do it. So I started learning clawhammer from some Ken Perlman videos and taught myself. Now I feel like they take up an equal amount of space in my life and I pick the style based on the music.
With my original material, I approach the banjo with the kind of song I want to write in my mind, so if I want to write a honky-tonk song I might use fingerpicking, but if I want to do something with a shout chorus, for example, I’ll approach with clawhammer banjo. I listen to a lot of Tim O’Brien and I feel like he does that, too. Being able to play both styles, I have a little bit more of a tool kit for what I want to do.
Tell me about your approach to songwriting. There are a lot of songs about lost love and relationships on this album, some about relationships with people, but even your relationship with New York City. “NYC Waltz” is a track I particularly love. Is there a common theme that you see that brings these songs together?
I think this record is about overcoming struggles in confidence, specifically struggles in the music industry. I had the realization that you have to be your own cheerleader, you have to believe in yourself, and find that happiness in yourself. If you’re doing what you’re supposed to be doing, things are going to happen. Making this album was me having the belief that I could do this thing, overcoming fears and doubts in myself, striving, and coming out on the other side.
The way you recorded this album, it sounds live in a way that is rare for modern recordings. Can you tell me about how the record was made?
We did it live to save money. We started a year and half ago and I didn’t have the resources to do separate tracking, so we rehearsed it for a couple of days and then just went in and tried to nail it. We recorded pretty much the whole thing live with a full band in Williamsburg, one day with each of two fiddle players, Bobby Hawk and Camille Howes, at Waldon Studios in Williamsburg.
Ross Martin [who plays guitar on the album] and I have been playing together for two years as a duo and we have worked up some of these songs over that time. I felt like these album songs were a good representation of the music we have been making for a good while now. “Dreaming of You,” the last song on the record, is the only one that we arranged and tracked out separately; it has a very different feel than the rest of the album.
Yes, I noticed that! It’s a bit orchestral.
Yes, that was all arranged and written out by me. I produced this album myself and I think going forward, I would like to do more collaboration with visionaries and people I trust in the making of a record. I think I learned that it’s great to have another trusted set of ears for a project. It’s hard to step away and see things for yourself. I have a pretty clear vision about what I want things to sound like, but you also have to be gentle and kind to yourself. It’s hard to find that line.
You also have a podcast about the banjo called Banjo Chat. Can you tell me about how that got started and how you’re enjoying it?
It’s good! It started because I had a lot of questions for banjoists about the way they write songs, form solos, and think about music that I didn’t hear asked or answered on other podcasts. Also, I wanted to amplify the voices of people whose playing I loved who were female identifying, queer, gay, minorities, or just didn’t really fit into a bluegrass or old-time genre with their music.
So I started this podcast. I got some new software for editing and now I do the research, recording, editing, and mixing all by myself.
Before I let you go, I wanted to ask you about your time on Broadway. In 2016 you subbed on Broadway playing banjo for Bright Star – a show that brought bluegrass and old-time to the stage in a major way. Looking back, how did that highly choreographed experience change your approach to live shows?
Bright Star does have a huge regional presence. For me, that was my first Broadway subbing gig, subbing for Bennett Sullivan. Being in that environment made me realize that when you play live shows you need to get out of your own head, you can’t just be standing up there not giving any energy out to the audience. You have to have a lot of love to give out and to have your message clear in your head when you’re performing. Be happy to be there.
That’s what I learned from the theater. All these people bought tickets to see the show, they’re here to see a show and have a good time – not to see you in your head worrying about your performance.
Photo Credit: Aidan Grant
Madeline Combs contributed research and interview prep for this feature.
Happy Friday! There’s plenty of new music to enjoy this week in our latest edition of You Gotta Hear This, our regular roundup of upcoming and just-released tracks and videos.
Kicking us off, innovative banjoist Wes Corbett (who currently tours with Sam Bush) shares the second single from his upcoming album, Drift. “Eagle Harbor” was inspired by the vibe and structure of Jackson Browne’s music and the picturesque ferry ride to Bainbridge Island in Washington state, where Corbett grew up. Guitarist, poet, and singer-songwriter Courtney Hartman is returning with new music as well; this time it’s a lush and whimsical neo-folk song co-written with Ana Egge about how being a mother and raising a child transformed the way she saw everything around her. It’s set to an intimate and cozy new music video you’ll love to watch.
New Mexico-based artist and songwriter Michael Rudd will release a new track, “Not Today,” next week and below you can find a preview of the number. It contemplates war, history, loss and their legacies; Rudd was spurred to write “Not Today” by the many wars ongoing today, especially in Gaza, and by his recent travel to Germany, Poland, and to visit monuments of the Holocaust.
Lauren Morse is ready to get you dancing with her new track and music video. “Let that Fiddler Fiddle” is a message we can certainly get behind. Inspired by Nashville’s ever-popular Honky Tonk Tuesday, it’s a two-stepping song sonically found where country and bluegrass meet – and perfect for toe-tapping or hip-swaying (or both). Trey Hedrick brings us a very enjoyable bluegrass track as well; “Passing Through” began to come together while Hedrick was out west and longing for the hills of home. With a talented roster of pickers and musicians on the song, Hedrick says it’s “a self reminder to go, to try, and to not leave the important things undone.”
Rounding us out, a group we’ve loved and collaborated with for a very long time, The Infamous Stringdusters, have a brand new single and a video to go with it. “Dead Man Walking” was written by Jeremy Garrett and Larry Keel. Don’t be fooled by the title, this is a song of uplift and positivity, set to the grooving and gritty style of bluegrass we all know and love from the Dusters.
It’s another stellar collection this week, if we do say so ourselves, and You Gotta Hear This!
Wes Corbett, “Eagle Harbor”
Artist:Wes Corbett Hometown: Nashville, Tennessee Song: “Eagle Harbor” Album:Drift Release Date: September 15, 2025 (single); October 3, 2025 (album) Label: Adhyâropa Records
In Their Words: “As a kid, Jackson Browne was playing around the house a lot so that music has always filled me with a sense of warm nostalgia. As an adult I’ve realized how gorgeous his music is and how profound of an impact I think it’s had on me as a musician. ‘Eagle Harbor’ is a reflection of this both in vibe and in structure – wide warm sounds, open space, and what I hope is a strong melody. It’s named after the main harbor on Bainbridge Island where I grew up, which looks particularly beautiful during golden hour as you approach on the ferry with the Olympic Mountains as the backdrop. This group of musicians is an absolute dream to make music with! With so much emotional depth and their masterful touches as a bedrock it has become one of my favorites on Drift. I feel so lucky and honored to have the chance to cut this track with them.” – Wes Corbett
Courtney Hartman, “Bright Eye”
Artist:Courtney Hartman Hometown: Eau Claire, Wisconsin Song: “Bright Eye” Album:With You Release Date: September 17, 2025 (video); August 27, 2025 (single); November 14, 2025 (album)
In Their Words: “I began writing ‘Bright Eye’ the first summer after my daughter was born. Loving her transformed the way I saw everything around me and I found myself surprised by the joy of seeing our life through her eyes. I believe that this is what love does: love of any kind changes how and what we see. It lets the light in.
“Ana Egge is a favorite songwriter of mine, she has a wonderful way of articulating melodies. I sent her an early version of the song and we finished it together. ‘Bright Eye’ also features harmonies from my dear friend and fellow Eau Claire artist and mother, Sarah Elstran (The Nunnery).
“I wanted the video for the song to give a real sense of the spirit behind With You – the community, the care, and the laughter. The album came about during a season of heaviness, but the women who co-wrote the songs with me, along with the friends who recorded them, truly helped to carry me through.” – Courtney Hartman
Track Credits: Courtney Hartman – Voice, guitars, songwriter Ana Egge – songwriter The Nunnery – Harmony vocals Ben Lester – Synth, pedal steel S. Carey – Drums, piano, synth Shane Leonard – Percussion Zoe Guigueno – Electric bass
Video Credits: Filmed by Kyle Lehman, edited by Erik Elstran.
In Their Words: “‘Passing Through’ started with my time living out West. I went out there looking for adventure, and I found it – mountains, open skies, and a pace to life that felt more open. But even then there was always a pull toward home, toward the hills. The song is about moving through places and seasons, chasing what you need to see while you can. It’s also about how all of us are just passing through in life, and how easy it is to get stuck only talking about the things we want to do. I’ve never wanted to live that way. That’s where the line ‘I ain’t afraid of dying, just the things I never did’ comes from. It’s a self reminder to go, to try, and to not leave the important things undone.” – Trey Hedrick
Track Credits: Trey Hedrick – Lead vocal, acoustic guitar, songwriter John Mailander – Fiddle Ethan Ballinger – Mandolin Frank Evans – Banjo Phillipe Bronchtein – Piano Jamie Dick – Drums Rhees Williams – Bass Maya De Vitry – Harmony vocals
The Infamous Stringdusters, “Dead Man Walking”
Artist:The Infamous Stringdusters Hometown: Nashville, Tennessee and Colorado Song: “Dead Man Walking” Album:20/20 Release Date: September 19, 2025 (single); January 2026 (album) Label: Americana Vibes
In Their Words: “I had this idea about a pitiful character that needed to snap out of their life and take a bigger view of everything before it was too late. I kept having Larry Keel’s voice in my mind as I worked through the melody of the song a bit, so I sent him a verse or two and he sent me back some. His lyrics were awesome, uplifting, and on the positive side. In a few sessions, we came up with what feels like a powerful chorus and a cool hook. It felt so natural for Dusters to make this one as country as we could and I just hope it resonates with everyone who listens, as it did with Larry and me as the songwriters.” – Jeremy Garrett
Video Credits: Directed and edited by Jack Gould at Ninja Video Production. Craig Babineau – Second camera
Lauren Morse, “Let That Fiddler Fiddle”
Artist:Lauren Morse Hometown: Jackson, Michigan Song: “Let that Fiddler Fiddle” Album:The Sweetest Sound (EP) Release Date: September 12, 2025 (video/single); January 2026 (EP)
In Their Words: “I wrote this song after a Nashville Honky Tonk Tuesday. I was being spun around by a man old enough to be my grandpa at the American Legion and I thought, ‘This is so much more fun than my date was the previous night.’ I immediately wanted to write a song folks could two-step to and that’s what I set out to do. Playing it out around Music City, I was always getting compliments on how it felt like nostalgic country music. It is the best feeling in the world to see the intention for the song to be played out in a music video with the same people who inspired it! I think it’s a real special song people get excited about and can’t help but clap or dance along.” – Lauren Morse
Video Credits:Directed by William Gawley. Produced by Michelle Robertson, Charlotte Avenue Pictures. Director of Photography – Wayne Taylor with Giovanni Gotay Drone pilot – Wayne Taylor Edited/color – Color Synch Visuals
Michael Rudd, “Not Today”
Artist:Michael Rudd Hometown: Albuquerque, New Mexico Song: “Not Today” Album:Ways of the World Release Date: September 26, 2025 (single), February 27, 2026 (album) Label: Invisible Road Records
In Their Words: “‘Not Today’ is about the legacy of war, both for the vanquished and the ‘victor.’ In a time when wars seem to be everywhere, the song considers not just the impact on those fighting now, but also on generations to come. ‘Not Today’ is from the perspective of a man who has lost everything – his family, his home, his land – but not the knowledge of who he is. It was most directly inspired by the war in Gaza and settler violence in the West Bank, as well as my visit last year to Berlin, Warsaw, Krakow, and Auschwitz. As an American Jew who grew up with the cornerstones of Israel, Jewish ethics, a knowledge of historical antisemitism, and the specter of the Holocaust, I wonder how future generations will process the current war and the influence it may have on how they see themselves and the world.” – Michael Rudd
Track Credits: Michael Rudd – Vocals, electric guitar Pat Malone – Electric guitar Mark Clark – Drums Brant Leeper – Hammond organ Asher Barreras – Electric bass Kelly Kuhn – Backing vocals
Photo Credit: The Infamous Stringdusters by Daniel Milchev; Courtney Hartman by Michelle Bennett.
I was fortunate to grow up in a time and place where some of the first generation of bluegrass artists were still out performing – and that is my heart. To see these guys on stage made me want to dive in the music more and learn all I could from the people that helped create it. Bobby Osborne is part of the reason I play bluegrass music for a living. I wanted to be like him. He’s also one of the reasons I still play music for a living. At one time, I was gonna give it all up – several times actually – but Bobby’s love for the genre 70-plus years after he started was encouraging. He also believed in me and I can never thank him enough for that.
I met Bobby for the first time in 2004 and got a picture with him (that is included in the new album’s liner notes). The kid in that picture would have never guessed what the next 20 years would hold for him.
Touring with Karl Shiflett’s Big Country Show and then The Po’ Ramblin’ Boys, I was around Bobby a lot on the circuit and always made time to visit him. I later joined him for a few months at the Kentucky School of Bluegrass & Traditional Music in Hyden, Kentucky, where I took lessons from him. From there, we somehow became buddies. I started visiting him at home and stayed in constant communication with him.
The new album on Turnberry Records, Keep On Keepin’ On, is a reflection of our friendship. It started as a project with Bobby, then was shelved for quite a while. I couldn’t bear to hear his voice on this record after his passing in June 2023. Then, with a little help from friends and Bobby’s spirit, the project became one that was for Bobby. The original idea was awesome, but what it has bloomed to be with all these amazing guests to help me out– I would have never imagined. I hope folks enjoy it as much as I enjoyed making it, and Long Live Bobby Van Osborne! – C.J. Lewandowski
March 17, 1973 was an extremely historic moment for bluegrass music. In this video you are viewing the very first time that bluegrass was played in The White House with the most iconic bluegrass song of all time, “Rocky Top.” Bobby was so proud of this moment and spoke of it often. You can see the joy in his face.
This features a 1970s Gibson mandolin that he later traded for a 1924 Gibson F-5. It was plugged right into an amp, which was also a historical moment for bluegrass. Bobby gave me the strap he is wearing in this video and it now resides in the Bluegrass Music Hall of Fame & Museum in Owensboro, Kentucky.
The Osborne Brothers were all over network television for decades and this is an example of such with “Ruby.” Even in his 40s, Bobby is stretching his boundaries. The instruments are tuned up 1/2 step, playing a E flat in D position. These are suits that were made by all the wives of the band members, as well.
“Rosie Bokay” is probably my favorite song on the new album. Paul Brewster sings the album cut and is also featured on the guitar in this video. Bobby heard Lincoln Hensley kick this off in the studio, just toying around, and he immediately said, “Let’s do that.” So we did! What Bobby wanted, Bobby got. He sang a scratch vocal, but was never able to get back in the studio.I think Bobby would be very proud of Paul’s vocals on the song.
The look in Bobby’s eyes was incredible in this video. I have a feeling he was proving a point to someone for some reason. Could it have been the divorce he was going through? Could it be the heart surgery that was near to this video taping? Who knows. I just know that Bobby was singing his ass off and I love it!
This has nothing to do with Bobby’s music, but I feel like this needs to be recognized. This is an hour-long interview pertaining to his time in the Korean War. A huge part of Bobby’s life. It may be a long video, but if you want to learn about Bobby Van Osborne, this is mandatory.
He was truly an incredible force of a human being in every aspect. Thank you for your service, Bobby.
This is live at Bean Blossom in 2009 featuring a song from Bobby’s solo career that he recorded on Rounder Records. Bobby talked about cutting this song again on the newest project, but we didn’t get to it. What a great message, right? Bobby’s compassion for people was always present.
Bobby did a YouTube series of him playing his favorites. Here is an example of Bobby playing his own piece, “7th of December.” Mind you, he was in his late 80s and could still play great. This is one of the actual tunes of his own that he taught me while visiting him at his house.
Twin banjos, steel guitar, the Grand Ole Opry, the best singing – can’t ask for anything else.
Bobby worked for several months with The Stanley Brothers before being shipped off to basic training and planned to return to work with them when he came back home. He had no idea his brother was working with Bill Monroe.
This video was filmed at the most important place to Bobby, the Grand Ole Opry. The twin banjos of Sonny and Bobby’s son, Wynn, are just amazing, This song is also featured on the new project. Bobby singing it at 91 years old is a different kind of hurt.
Photo Credit: C.J. Lewandowski (left) and Bobby Osborne (right) by Jeff Daugherty.
Artist:Bonnie & the Mere Mortals Hometown: Avella, Pennsylvania Latest Album:Take Me to the Moon (available August 29, 2025) Personal Nicknames (or rejected band names): I get Bonald a lot. Bon Bon, Bonners, Bonnie Romano.
What’s your favorite memory from being on stage?
Two years ago for our Halloween show, I looked out in the crowd and saw a complete stranger scream-singing along for the first time. As an artist, I constantly question what I’m doing. This is a hard path we’ve chosen that can beat you down a lot, but you can’t fabricate that moment. You’ve reached someone, you touched their lives in some way. I’ve since had that experience dozens of times and have even gotten to do a Bonnie & the Mere Mortals tattoo on a fan, but you never forget your first.
What other art forms – literature, film, dance, painting, etc. – inform your music?
I truly think the difference between art forms is no wider than the difference of medium: oil or watercolor? Everything is how you choose to express your idea. I have a literature degree and I grew up in an abandoned coal town; I wanted to make music the way Southern Gothic writers like Michael McDowell made me feel. Southern Gothic is often seen as just slow Americana in a minor key, but I wanted to expand that thinking to include my experience growing up in a Southern Gothic tableau. I also dress up like a drag queen because I want the Mere Mortals to be as visual as we are musical. Our presentation is always firmly tongue-in-cheek because every murder ballad has a punch line and I never think you should take yourself that seriously.
What’s the most difficult creative transformation you’ve ever undertaken?
When I was growing up, it was the golden age of pop-country. Miss Shania Twain, Garth, the Chicks? Everywhere. I grew up on the values of Hank and “Raise Hell, Praise Dale.” Post 9/11 though, I really started to resent my upbringing. I discovered the Cure, Queen, and Bowie, and put aside Ralph Stanley. I moved to the city, came out as queer, and started a metal band. I never truly felt fulfilled though. I felt I had to hide a part of myself that made up so much of my character.
It wasn’t until I heard Gillian Welch for the first time that I started to dive back into myself and realized that I wasn’t really making art authentically. I bought a banjo and started to learn clawhammer. I rediscovered so many loves I had put aside and I began to feel myself again. I realized that what I loved about the Smiths was the same thing I loved about Jason Isbell, and I couldn’t see why they shouldn’t go together. Some of my folks couldn’t understand the transition, but they certainly do now.
What would a perfect day as an artist and creator look like to you?
Film an episode of The Muppets as a special guest and then head over to Dolly’s house to cook her a pasta dinner.
If you didn’t work in music, what would you do instead?
My day job for the last 15 years has been working as a tattoo artist. I co-own a shop in Pittsburgh called the Kindred Spirit Tattoo Co. It can be hard making it as an artist on both sides of the sun, but I feel so grateful I get to do two things I love so much.
At times frowned upon or occasionally slandered, covers are as deep-rooted as the songs and the emerald valleys that have produced them.
Indeed, covers stir discussion, spark research, and add another patch to the great heart-sewn embroidery of music. Fashioned in a similar vein to the original – that’s flattery. When a song circles across genre divides, well, that’s an enriching voyage.
The members of Kissing Other ppl – Rachel Baiman and folk duo Viv & Riley – see their endeavor not just as an individual artistic sojourn but as a larger opportunity to establish a collective conversation. Here, they’ve taken a handful of mostly rock and pop songs and blended, marinated, and sautéed them in unfamiliar flavors. The end results turned out nearer to their own identities.
“I grew up playing traditional Appalachian style,” said Riley. “This is not that!”
Baiman is a sincere and dogged lyricist, with a harmonious ear and a top contender’s punch. She grew up in Chicago, with a factory-made violin in her hands and an insatiable curiosity for why and how music could conform and contort to her swiftly evolving moods. Somewhere along the line, she started getting serious about music and purchased a John Silakowski five-string fiddle on a lengthy installment plan. She arrived in Nashville at age 18, riding fragile finances. Slogging on foot, lugging her fiddle in a hard, cumbersome case, she lacked the extra dollars to hail a taxi. Her odd jobs were many: dog walking; catering; reading novels and writing summaries for a sociology professor; she once even held a job organizing a comedy contest. But a fearless, tenacious sense of purpose compelled her to stick with music.
Pondering all of these circumstances in her heart, Baiman released several persuasive projects, including Shame (2017) and Common Nation of Sorrow (2023). Riley Calcagno, one half of the contemplative folk duo Viv & Riley, added stringed support and pre-production assets to one of Rachel’s albums.
Subsequently, Baiman asked Riley and Vivian Leva (the other half of the duo) if they’d be willing to join her on tour, where long hours on the road were spent in between gigs consuming, swapping, and contemplating music. Baiman’s traditional background taught her how to fully perceive a recording – whether an old fiddle tune or multi-generational, passed down ballad, or even a contemporary pop song – to not only hear it superficially, but to visualize its promise. Through prolonged stretches of asphalt and expressway, she’d oftentimes wonder what she, if given the opportunity, could bring to a certain song.
“The idea stems from Rachel’s musical generosity and curiosity and the extended times in those van rides,” said Riley. “Eventually, the songs included were the ones that we’d all individually had been listening to and were moved by. Songs that had stopped us in our tracks at different realms of our lives. Songs that hit us emotionally or otherwise… spontaneously contributed in the week that we recorded them.”
Some of Riley’s earliest memories are of his father’s fondness of traditional music. His father played the guitar, fiddle, mandolin, and banjo. At age 3, the younger Calcagno expressed interest in the fiddle. Though he was raised in an unrelentingly urban environment in the heart of Seattle he was never far from the folksy hospitality of music: square dances, jams, and potlucks. At the Wintergrass Music Festival in Bellevue, Washington, he formed connections with musicians originating from the sparsest, most countrified swaths of the state.
“I discovered an authentic-feeling bluegrass scene in the state and an old-time rural music scene on the West Coast that was kept going by people living in cities,” he explained, “and I don’t see that at all as contradictory.”
Like many other kids his age who grew up in Seattle, beginning in middle school, Riley burned liberal hours listening to local indie rock, though the attachment he had made with traditional music would override all else. He met Vivian Leva at a music camp in the Seattle area which emphasized the cultural importance of preserving long-standing traditions.
“I was a fan of Viv’s parents’ music,” said Riley. “We started playing music right away. Viv is a gifted songwriter. We started passing ideas back and forth. That was eight years ago.”
Vivian Leva was born and raised in Lexington, Virginia, in the Shenandoah Valley close to the abounding cultural and geographical influences of Charlottesville, Roanoke, and the Blue Ridge Mountains. It’s a small town with a deep worship of bluegrass and old-time narratives.
“Before I was born, it was a big hub of old-time traditional music,” said Viv. “Young people moved here for the rich, blossoming scene. My dad came here at 18 and stayed forever.”
Viv’s father, too, took a particular interest in the fiddle, traveling to neighboring counties and states to observe and jam. Her mother sang and guitar-picked, emulating and scrutinizing the local and regional ballads she had fallen in love with. They attended old-time fiddler’s conventions as a family. And when her parents formed a duo and headed out on the highway, sometimes she would share in such jaunts first-hand.
“When I was little I went on tour with them for a bit,” said Viv. “As a teenager, I was playing in my dad’s bands. As a kid he would bring me up to sing a song on stage.”
Certainly, music has long filled the souls of Rachel, Viv, and Riley with good things – and Kissing Other ppl is a remembrance of affection as much as it is a representation of impression. Indeed, Baiman said that Kissing Other ppl is a natural extension of her – and her counterparts’ – inquisitiveness, their attempt to understand the mysterious processes of expression, meaning, and memory.
“In reality,” said Rachel, “I don’t think any band or musical project should attempt monogamy, because you miss out on so many opportunities to learn and grow and bring new inspiration back to your main role.”
Similar to Rachel, Viv finds original songwriting to be a sacred, mysterious place to dwell. But she also believes that covers are a part of the whole process of an artist’s maturity, the recognition of the music of one’s friends, mentors, neighbors, and across-the-board community.
“There can be a stigma about covers,” she said. “You can’t make it your own. You are not creative enough to make your own music. It’s a shortcut. It’s a cop out. But as someone who has written a lot of songs and released a lot of records of original music, and plans to do so in the future, I don’t see it that way. It is an acknowledgment of how being inspired by other people’s music is such an important part of creating your own music. You can’t make your own music in a vacuum.”
“Anytime that you are playing a song, you are creating it again in the moment, and re-interpreting in your own way,” added Riley. “Whether it is a cover or an old traditional song, you still have the power to sing it and do it in a way that really moves someone.”
Baiman said the intuitive, empathetic nature of the type of music she plays requires that she be an attentive observer as well as a cordial, broad-minded learner – prerequisites for a collaboration of this sort.
“I think that having a background in old-time and fiddle music in general really prepares you to be a musician who listens,” said Rachel. “If you approach any musical situation with the mindset of, ‘Can I do something to help support the group musically here?’, that goes a long way.
“Old-time really prepares you for the idea that your best contribution might be not to play at all. The bar is really high for joining in, you have to make sure you’re adding something that isn’t already there, and you’re not dragging down the groove. That’s part of the etiquette of informal jamming and it translates to professional playing.”
A fine cover such as the group’s rendition of Wilco’s “Ashes of American Flags” not only illuminates a previous desire, elevating or enriching it with brand new urgency, but in some fashion it obliges the total re-evaluation of the original.
“There are people who are not able to handle ‘Ashes of American Flags’ because of the context, or they come from a different generation, or they don’t like Jeff Tweedy singing it,” said Riley. “Why not give a song like that another chance or give it another life? If you have a song that’s fun, or one that hits hard, emotionally, lyrically, or harmonically, maybe you can add to it, instead of just burying it on a playlist.”
Riley notes that many of the greatest records and biggest chart sellers are in fact cover-centric productions, though they might not have been advertised or promoted as such at the time. Many great albums are rife with songs written by others, sometimes entire roomfuls of songwriters on Music Row. Many memorable albums, such as Bob Dylan’s 1962 self-titled debut, only have a small number of originals; among the traditional folk and blues arrangements, Dylan’s had but two.
Indeed, Kissing Other ppl simply builds on a long tradition of artists rearranging songs that they like and then reinserting them back into the public sphere of approval.
“We seem to be obsessed with originality in our current moment and society,” said Riley. “But we are also at a time when art and – the pursuit of it – is less funded and less valued monetarily than ever. So many of the great records that we love are cover records. Ours isn’t heavy-handed.”
Perhaps one sterling example of a cover album that marvelously nudged old material into fresh fields was Tim O’Brien’s Red on Blonde, on which O’Brien grabbed a handful of Dylan songs, tinkered with their framework, and dragged them into bluegrass brightness. Many of these songs have stuck around since the album’s release in 1996 and bluegrass buffs routinely call out titles such as “Señor (Tales of Yankee Power)” and “Farewell Angelina.”
One of the record’s most memorable tracks is a rendition of Jason Molina’s “Hold On Magnolia,” which draws out the spookily and eerily beautiful essence of the inscrutable artist’s mystifying original. Rachel’s fiddle punctuates the abstract stylishness with characteristic splendor and aplomb.
“Jason Molina [1973-2013] was one of the greatest songwriters,” said Riley. “He grew up in Lorain, Ohio, and he went to Oberlin College, where I went. He had a rough life and died of alcohol-related complications. He left so much amazing music behind… if even one person hears our version and goes and listens to his records then it is a job well done.”
Alluding to Molina, Viv noted the deferential nature of covers and their special reward.
“That’s the cool element of doing a record of covers,” she said. “You can inspire people with that special song that resonates and if they haven’t heard of that artist, they can go back and listen to their work.”
On both “Hold On Magnolia” and “Ashes of American Flags,” Viv found herself in the new position of playing the drums. She sensed the two songs required the presence of drums and their inclusion was inspired by her simple desire to test the unfamiliar.
“One of the incentives I had to go to guitar lessons when I was younger was that my teacher would let me play drums for the last ten minutes of the lesson,” said Viv. “During COVID, Riley surprised me with a drum kit. He got an electric guitar. We were having fun during the lockdown in our basement. We were doing less folk music, and experimenting with instruments outside of the immediate folk genre. So, I took a crack at it.”
“I think it is a testament to the spirit of making the record that we felt comfortable putting her on the drums,” added Riley. “[Producer] Greg D. Griffith made the snare drums sound huge and awesome, adding a big element to the tracks.”
One song that Viv introduced to the project was “Born to Lose” by Waylon Payne, and the diversity in these respective arrangements is startling: Payne’s original was supported by a complete country band; the new offering is sagaciously stripped down, extracting every syllable of bitterness, sorrow, self-loathing, and private turmoil from the lyrics.
“I had been particularly into this artist, Waylon Payne,” said Viv. “His vocals are really fascinating to me. His ornamentation is really incredible. I spent a lot of time trying to figure out what he was doing. I was definitely interested in trying to get his vocal ornaments similar, because I think that they are really beautiful.”
The spacey, moody “Where’d All the Time Go?” by Doctor Dog was another one of Rachel’s proposals.
“That is a fun song to do as a trio, because of its echoing harmony parts,” said Viv. “I would have never picked that song for myself to learn. That’s what made it challenging. It took me outside of my vocal comfort zone, and that was a fun challenge for me.”
The name of the band, Kissing Other ppl, is a teasing affirmation of one of the pop songs covered on the album, a soft, mischievous Lennon Stella song released in 2020.
“It has a fun and flirty vibe,” said Riley, “but it also gets to something funny and true about relationships. It captures the lightness of the experience of playing music and hanging out, and not taking yourself too seriously. It was Rachel’s idea and she stuck with it. It is awkward and funny, and why not? Life is short.”
Baiman said the namesake reveals a good-natured admittance of the diversionary quality of art.
“Coming from two different projects that are based in original music and collaborating on cover songs,” said Rachel, “we chose the band name as a playful nod to the idea that we were cheating on our own projects by trying something different and new.”
The trio intends to take their reincarnated versions on the road. Beyond that they have no fixed plans to continue – or, for that matter, discontinue – sewing and hemming their skills and interests together.
Indeed, sustained in its own special love and humility, kissing other ppl expresses not just innovative lyricism and beautiful buzzes, but a powerful sense of understanding. What Rachel, Viv, and Riley all agree on is that the genre or style of its communication is less important than the nourishing energy and want that necessitated its assembly.
“In the end, a lot of the songs are ambiguous,” said Viv. “It is hard to say exactly what some of the songs are about. We are not spelling out what you should be thinking or feeling. It’s just cool to see how other people are able to communicate things in totally different ways than how you would communicate them. But somehow it still hits you.”
Alison Brown heard Earl Scruggs playing on the Foggy Mountain Banjo album when she was 10 years old – and it changed the course of her life. More than 50 years later, Brown is the newest honoree at the Country Music Hall of Fame and Museum’s Louise Scruggs Memorial Forum.
Yes, the circle really is unbroken.
Brown has received countless awards throughout her career as a groundbreaking banjo player. This time, however, she will be recognized for her many contributions to the business side of music.
The museum states that “The Louise Scruggs Memorial Forum recognizes a music industry leader who continues the legacy of trailblazer Louise Scruggs, a formidable businesswoman who set new professional standards in artist management.”
Michael McCall, CMHOF’s Associate Director of Editorial, said, “We always try to look at the people who are important in country music, but who the public may not know about.”
The forum began in 2007 with a mission to acknowledge Louise Scruggs’ remarkable contributions in light of the fact that “women don’t always get the recognition they should,” McCall said. “The forum is a way to shine lights where they don’t always shine.” Brown is the 17th honoree.
Marty Stuart once told writer Jon Weisberger that Louise Scruggs “was to the business what Lester and Earl were to the music.” While performing with Bill Monroe, the “Father of Bluegrass Music,” Earl Scruggs introduced audiences to the three-finger style that we now think of as bluegrass banjo. That driving syncopation was one, possibly the primary, feature that separated bluegrass from the other forms of what was then called “hillbilly music.”
Decades later, bluegrass banjo players, almost without exception, cite Earl Scruggs as a primary influence.
While Louise’s impact isn’t as widely known, she was an equal force in the music industry. She turned the management of bluegrass artists from a casual afterthought to a profession. And her instincts and cultural awareness started ripples that are still expanding today as bluegrass, folk, and country meet in the land of Americana.
Louise was born in 1927. Shortly before she died in 2006, she told The Tennessean, “My mother worked her fingers to the bone, and my daddy did, too, and I didn’t want to go out in a field chopping corn.”
She developed office skills to fulfill a desperate determination established during the Great Depression to escape farm life. Those abilities set her on a path that in some ways changed the trajectory of bluegrass music. At the time, the bluegrass world was totally male-dominated on both the entertainment and business sides.
“But Louise was so good at what she did,” McCall said, that she was a total success. She overcame any resistance with her “integrity, and by being both hard and fair in business.”
Earl Scruggs and Lester Flatt started an immensely successful band in 1948. But it wasn’t just Lester’s voice and Earl’s banjo that made Flatt & Scruggs household names. It was Louise.
Louise had been working as a bookkeeper when she fell for Earl Scruggs, seeing him on stage as a member of Bill Monroe’s Blue Grass Boys. After marrying Earl, Louise initially stayed home to raise their three children. In 1955, she took over management of Flatt & Scruggs, becoming the first female manager and booking agent in the music industry.
In addition to excelling at contract negotiation and other financial aspects of talent management, Louise was a visionary. She pursued the potential of various media previously untapped by bluegrass, as well as navigating shifting cultural trends.
When Louise negotiated with CBS for use of “The Ballad of Jed Clampett” and appearances on The Beverly Hillbillies, the sound of bluegrass banjo was heard in living rooms across the nation – well beyond the coverage of the Grand Ole Opry. The theme song to Petticoat Junction kept the momentum going.
With “Foggy Mountain Breakdown” featured in the popular film Bonnie & Clyde, banjo teachers were inundated with requests to take new students.
Louise established Earl as part of the folk revival when she booked him into the first Newport Folk Festival. New York City audiences opened their ears and hearts to Flatt & Scruggs when the band appeared at Carnegie Hall. Louise also encouraged these revered bluegrass musicians to incorporate songs written by contemporaries like Bob Dylan and Johnny Cash; Earl even made some recordings with saxophonist King Curtis.
Flatt didn’t appreciate the expanded repertoire and he split from Earl in 1969. Louise quickly helped form the Earl Scruggs Revue with their sons, a “beyond-bluegrass” ensemble enthusiastically received on college campuses and at festivals. They performed with acts like Steppenwolf and The Byrds and they appeared at a major anti-Vietnam War demonstration in Washington, D.C., in 1969.
The Country Music Association’s CEO Sarah Trahern said of Louise, “She was blessed with charm, intelligence, a puritan work ethic, and a wonderful sense of humor.”
The same can be said about Alison Brown, the 2025 honoree. To say Alison Brown is admired as a banjo player hardly touches the music community’s regard for her talents.
Once she heard Earl play at age 10, Brown never let up on the banjo, winning contests at a young age and working across her entire career to expand the banjo’s role in acoustic music.
She was the first woman to receive an Instrumentalist of the Year award from the International Bluegrass Music Association on any instrument. She has won GRAMMYs and has been nominated for others and she is in the Banjo Hall of Fame.
Kristen Scott Benson, six-time IBMA Banjo Player of the Year – the second woman to receive the honor – recalls hearing Brown’s Simple Pleasures CD. “It was the first time I had ever heard any banjo playing outside the bluegrass realm. I was completely fascinated and my ears were opened to a whole new world of writing and playing.”
These days Brown frequently writes and performs with fellow banjo player Steve Martin and receives rave reviews for numerous other collaborations.
When Brown graduated Harvard with a history degree, she faced the question of what to do next. Realizing that neither the humanities nor banjo playing were money makers, she adopted the attitude of, “A girl’s gotta eat, right?”
She was accepted into UCLA business school and spent three years in investment banking. Then Alison Krauss beckoned her back to professional banjo in the early days of Union Station.
This eventually led her to performing with Michelle Shocked and to meeting her husband-to-be, Garry West. Cut to an Alison and Garry discussion in a Stockholm café about the elements of a good life. They still have the napkin on which they jotted words like performing, recording, having a label, a studio, publishing – and family. That was how the idea for an independent record label was born.
Small World Music began with the goal of distributing music by little-known artists they heard while on tour. Initially, they worked with a tiny Australian company, promoting six products in their catalogue.
“There was a video called ‘Coral Sea Dreaming’ that was visual music – beautiful scenes of coral reefs, set to a new age soundtrack,” Brown described. She and West thought it would be perfect for the Nature Store chain, but the buyer ignored their overtures.
So, Brown said, “We started calling Nature Stores and saying that we’d heard about this amazing video called ‘Coral Sea Dreaming’ – did they have it in stock?” And a few days later, the buyer called them.
“That was one of the first big things that helped our cash flow, leading to the launch of Compass.”
While she had been happy to leave the dry work of entry-level investment banking, she appreciates the knowledge she acquired there and in business school. “Like how to put together a business plan and the financial projections to support it. It also gave me paper credibility,” with investors.
Compass Records has evolved to become one of the most respected independent labels in the industry, specializing in niche markets like Celtic, folk, bluegrass, Americana, jazz and many varieties of roots music.
The business environment Brown entered when she started Compass Records in 1995 was a far cry from the all-male world that Louise Scruggs operated in.
“I’m a firm believer that we all stand on the shoulders of the people who have come before us. And that’s incredibly true for me as a woman in business. I’ve never had to deal with those kinds of challenges [being undervalued or ignored] as a female.”
Brown and West planned their lives so they could start a business, support their love of music, and raise two children – building in the resources they needed for balance and family time. Technology and changing gender roles made all that possible in a way that wasn’t available in the 1950s. But while she didn’t encounter the same challenges as Louise Scruggs, she finds herself facing more profound obstacles.
“The digital transformation has changed the music business, maybe more than any other industry,” she said. “How do you exist in an ecosystem where you’re creating music and having to give it away for free?”
Brown was recently elected president of the Nashville Chapter of the Recording Academy. She has assumed a leadership role in promoting the rights of artists and labels and she is a determined advocate for equality of broadcast royalties – more important than ever when “streaming pays a third of a penny per stream.”
“That’s a rate conceived by the Copyright Board before people knew that a stream wasn’t a small river,” she said. “I feel like this is a critical time for creators, and I fear that, with so many people in Washington in the pocket of big tech, creators’ interests could very easily become marginalized in this race for AI.
“It’s a precarious moment, but at the same time, I feel like some of the best roots music and bluegrass music that’s ever been made is being made now, and I think it will stand the test of time.
“I think that cultivating your community is the key to succeeding – knowing who your fans and supporters are and making sure they know who you are. And now we have the tools to connect directly with our audience, which we didn’t have when we started 30 years ago,” Brown said.
She also reminds fans that, “If you want to support the artists, buy physical product. That’s still where the artists can make some money.”
Marian Leighton Levy, who started Rounder Records in the 1970s along with two partners, knows the challenges of an independent label. And she is well aware of how much more competitive the industry has become in the face of consolidation; artists’ ability to produce their own product; and the devastating effect of streaming on creators’ incomes.
Levy said of Brown, “She’s one of the few people who’s been a top-level musician, someone who knows her way around the studio as an engineer and a producer, has started and been running a record company with Garry and somehow or other had as balanced a life as one can have while doing all of those things. And she’s been doing remarkably well for a very long time – it is just incredible what she’s accomplished.”
At the Hall, McCall lauds Brown not only for her success with Compass, but with all the ways she contributes to the industry – from participating in IBMA to the Recording Academy to the Country Music Hall of Fame and Museum itself.
Brown feels deeply honored to be recognized at the Louise Scruggs Memorial Forum, “having been called Girl Scruggs for so much of my childhood.”
“Louise was such a wonderful, influential force in roots music, being acknowledged as following in her footsteps is incredibly meaningful.”
She sees the forum as a great contribution to the business of music by acknowledging how far the industry has come.
“One of the things that I think is so exciting about the moment that we’re living in is that women are peppered throughout the ecosystem in a way that wasn’t the case 50 years ago. We have women promoters, artists, DJs, running record labels. Now we have this golden opportunity to create the reality that we want to live in, and we can do that by supporting each other.”
Photo courtesy of the Country Music Hall of Fame & Museum.
The Earl Scruggs Revue’s only movie soundtrack, Where The Lilies Bloom (1974), is not well known. That’s a pity because in 1973, when it was recorded, the band had been together for four years and was a very solid outfit. At the beginning of 1973 the group included Earl, Randy, and Gary Scruggs, Josh Graves, and Jody Maphis. Steve Scruggs was an occasional member. Vassar Clements’ last credited appearance on record with the Revue was on Earl Scruggs‘ Dueling Banjos (C 32268), released early in 1973, and he was still with them when they recorded the soundtrack.
The movie was filmed between May and August 1972 and released in 1974 through United Artists. The soundtrack album, Columbia KC 32806, is credited to the Revue and their longtime producer, Ron Bledsoe. Movie soundtrack recordings are made after the film has been edited; the musicians perform in a studio setting while the film is rolling. This is a precision business, obviously; I have yet to find accounts of the Revue’s involvement in this process, which must have taken place in early 1973.
Soundtrack albums focus on eliciting memories of the film. Viewing and listening are, in the final analysis, two very different things. The music in Where The Lilies Bloom was, in the first instance, the musicians’ responses to the visuals, shaped by the movie producer and director.
Earl came up with new tunes and restatements of old ones; Randy contributed deft and creative electric and acoustic guitar, both flatpicked and fingerpicked; Vassar performed masterful fiddle from a point in his career when he was doing the old-time tunes brilliantly while developing his new jazz-inflected style; and Josh played the creative and brilliant Dobro that a generation would follow.
The film’s producer, Robert B. Radnitz, based the picture on Vera and Bill Cleaver’s award-winning young adult novel of the same title. It tells the story of the struggle of the Luther family siblings, four young Appalachian country youths – the oldest is 16 – to live at home together following the death of their widower father. They do this by “wildcrafting,” gathering and selling wild herbs as health supplements. The narrative focuses on the two teen daughters’ growth and relationships.
Where The Lilies Bloom was shot on location in Watauga County on North Carolina’s northwestern border. Producer Radnitz strove to employ workers from Appalachia, such as screenplay writer Earl Hamner Jr. and actor Harry Dean Stanton, who had a leading role as the older “Kiser Pease.” The young actress who had the leading role as 14-year-old “Mary Call Luther,” Julie Gohlson, was a Georgia native chosen after a nationwide search. She was nominated for a Golden Globe in 1975. This was her only movie appearance.
Radnitz worked with toymakers Mattel on this co-production, their second. The first was Sounder, released in 1973. That acclaimed film about young teens in Black Mississippi propelled Cicely Tyson to stardom and featured blues star Taj Mahal for its soundtrack. For his second movie’s soundtrack, Radnitz again sought music reflecting the cultural background of the film’s narrative – in this case, the oral traditions of Appalachia. He chose the Earl Scruggs Revue.
The film got a good reception, with prizes and nominations of various sorts. It’s well worth watching – not only is there a DVD with commentary, it’s also available VOD on YouTube and is available to watch via select streaming services. The album, on the other hand, pretty much sank like a stone – no ripples. But if you want to hear what the Earl Scruggs Revue sounded like when they were together just playing by themselves, with no added stars in the studio, this is the album to try. There’s plenty from them to appreciate on the film’s soundtrack, as well. A lot of nice creative moves here!
This was a hard album to find. By the time I finally got it in the ’80s I wasn’t as interested in the band as I’d been earlier. I listened once, filed it away, and only listened again recently. Holding and looking at the album cover during this playback reminded me why I only listened to it once before. The liner notes must have been composed by some 9-to-5er at United Artists. There’s nothing there about the music. Who’s the female vocalist? What’s the band doing? No mentions. The visuals and most of the copy are from the movie. Not much of a musical souvenir!
The album cover of Columbia KC 82806 announces at the top: “The Original Soundtrack Recording.” Below that comes “Radnitz /Mattel Productions presents, where the lilies bloom (all in large lowercase), then: “Music Performed by” and finally “The Earl Scruggs Revue.” All this is printed over a collage of color shots of herbs, along with nine little black and white stills from the film – one of which is the Revue.
On back of the album cover, we are told this is a ”Soundtrack Album Produced by Ron Bledsoe [for] A Robert B. Radnitz Film.” Cast members (but not band members) are listed. Next to this info are small columns, left and right, that list the tracks. Filling the center below all this is a large still of the film’s young lead actors; on either side of this are illustrations of wild herbs – three on each side.
In spite of the Revue’s lack of prominence on the album’s notes, I think that the band did a good job of coming up with new compositions and old-time tunes that represent their music in imaginative arrangements relating to the context of the film.
After relistening to the LP, I bought the film’s DVD, which was remastered and released in 2022 with an audio commentary by filmmaker and historian Daniel Kremer. The film opens (as does album track A1) with song “Where The Lillies Bloom” sung by its composer, Barbara Mauritz.
Singer-songwriter Mauritz (1949-2014), originally from Texas, was the vocalist with Lamb, an avant-garde folk-jazz-rock fusion group active in San Francisco in the early ’70s. Her first solo album, Music Box, was released on Columbia in 1972.
How did she end up on this movie’s soundtrack? I wish I knew! Being a Columbia artist was probably not coincidental. As we hear, she’s paired with another Columbia artist, Earl Scruggs, on the theme song at the opening. The Revue is laid-back in the track’s background at the start; eventually Randy’s guitar plays the melody, while Earl’s banjo sneaks up to end with beautiful 6/8 triplets in the background, and a few of Josh’s Dobro licks can be heard.
This is music meant to be heard in accompaniment to the visuals that open the film, aptly demonstrated by its trailer, which opens with the character “Devola Luther” (the oldest sister, played by Jan Smithers) singing “A Long Time Traveling” a cappella. The guitar is very much in the background, as is the banjo, which comes up only at the end.
The album contains three “Narrative” tracks by lead character Mary Call Luther which explicate the dramatic turning points in the film’s story. Following the first narrative track, A2, comes “Turkey Chase”, track A3, which plays beneath a scene in which the Luther children are trying to catch wild turkeys.
The Revue is actually playing the traditional fiddle tune “Chicken Reel,” led by Earl with brief interludes by Randy (lead guitar) and Josh Graves (Dobro). This is two minutes of really good straightforward old-time music, which the Revue knew well but rarely recorded.
The next track (A4) presents slow, moody instrumental music that plays behind scenes pertaining to the father’s death: “All My Trials,” a traditional spiritual with Bahamian connections popularized by Joan Baez in the ’60s. Randy’s lead guitar mixes with some nice piano, probably by Mauritz. It’s a pretty performance.
Track A5, “I Love My Love,” which plays behind a romantic sequence, was also popular in the folk revival. English composer Gustav Holst described it as a “Cornish folksong” in his arrangement of it. It’s sung here by Mauritz, over a finger-picked guitar which could be hers, or maybe that of Randy or Earl.
Track A6 repeats the theme, “Where The Lilies Bloom,” as a slow instrumental piece in 4/4 time. Randy’s finger-picked guitar plays it twice, and then Gary’s bass and Earl’s banjo join for two more verses. It really demonstrates Earl’s artistry – such control, economy, lyricism!
In the film’s soundtrack, The Revue plays Earl’s “Flint Hill Special” behind several action scenes – countryside automotive rambles – as Mary Call and the family are in conflict with Kiser. Here’s what that sounds like as played by Earl, Josh, and Vassar on the soundtrack:
The original pressing of the LP diverges from the movie soundtrack at this point, on Track A7, which is also identified as “Flint Hill Special.” No doubt that garnered Earl some royalties for his composition of that name, but the tune played on the original album is the traditional “Sally Ann,” a piece Earl recorded on his 1961 Foggy Mountain Banjo release. (This seems to have been corrected on digitally distributed versions of the album. Hear the LP’s version of “Sally Ann” below.)
It’s an interesting new version, opening with a couple of fiddle licks and then shifting to the percussive sound of the banjo strings being played with right-hand fingerpicking (a “roll”) while the strings are muted with the heel of the left hand. Then the fiddle steps up while at the same time Dobro, bass, and guitar enter – a powerful old-time bluegrass sound. Earl’s banjo takes over second time through, then the fiddle returns and finally Earl closes as he began, percussively. The “shave and a haircut” ending is dominated by Randy’s fancy guitar.
Side two of the album (track B1) opens with music from a scene in which the four Luthers, who’d been at the grocery store learning about wildcrafting, get a ride home from the store owner “Mr. Connell” (played by Tom Spratley). Here, the Revue is heard playing “Carolina Boogie,” basically an update of Earl’s up-tempo blues in G, “Foggy Mountain Special.” It features the entire Revue with a considerable amount of call-response between Randy and Vassar and a great ending.
The family’s funeral for the mountainside burial of their father includes “Been A Long Time Traveling” (track B2) sung a cappella by oldest daughter character, Devola. It’s heard twice, at the beginning and the close of the burial scene.
Following this, the film’s narrative shifts to wildcrafting, with Mary Call’s next visit to the grocery store to sell herbs backed by the Revue playing (track B3) Earl’s “Stash It,” a catchy banjo tune which starts slowly and speeds up.
Next, Mary Call’s poem about witnessing a starburst is heard on track B4, with subtle guitar and piano backup. It’s followed (track B5) by “All The Pretty Little Horses,” a traditional lullaby of African American origin, performed solo here by Randy’s fingerpicked guitar. In the film this plays behind a tender scene in which the Connells visit the Luther home.
Later, as the Luther children are depicted gathering herbs, the melody of the old Carter Family song “Keep On The Sunny Side” (track B6) is heard. First, it’s finger-picked by Randy on guitar, then Earl’s banjo comes in doing harmony. Neat! This is the ultimate father and son duet; Gary, on bass, is close by.
As the narrative approaches climax, we hear Barbara Mauritz singing her “All The Things Inside of Me” (track B7), accompanied by fingerpicked guitar, probably by Randy but possibly by Mauritz herself.
Mary Call’s final narrative (track B8) leads to the full band playing the theme; it’s heard at length as the film’s credits roll.
The preceding description, based on the album, does not point out all the places where the Revue’s music is heard on the film soundtrack – scenes where Randy’s guitar, Gary’s harmonica, Josh’s Dobro, and Vassar’s fiddle add aural nuances to the screenplay. Throughout the film, music editor Robert Takagi places in the aural background little quotes taken from performances like the final version of the theme. Randy’s guitar, in particular, is heard behind several scenes.
Other musical segments in the film are not heard on the album at all, but play a central role in evoking the film’s cultural milieu. Thus, while rambling in the car, they turn on a local radio station: the Revue is heard playing county-rock. Elsewhere, as they are walking home from wildcrafting, there’s a nice a cappella performance of “Feast Here Tonight” by youngest Luther daughter “Ima Dean” (played by Helen Harmon).
These musical segments remind us that the Revue, while featured on the album, is really playing in support of a story, a visual drama. As such their music here is different from that found on all their other albums. It does not sell the sound of the band – it speaks for images of the region’s atmosphere and its culture that emerge in the film’s narrative.
Country and folk, bluegrass and new acoustic music all come together in this week’s edition of our new music and premiere roundup!
First up, country singer-songwriter Dallas Burrow is joined by Ray Wylie Hubbard on a brand new music video for their duo track, “Read ‘Em and Weep,” from Burrow’s upcoming September release. The song was inspired by classic gambling songs, so of course Ray Wylie was the perfect special guest to tap for the track and the country & western-styled video. Also bringing a new music video this week are Americana/folk trio The Last Revel, of Minneapolis. “Static” is about the overwhelm and confusion of new love.
In bluegrass, Chris Jones & the Night Drivers tap Jim Lauderdale for a new track, “How Small of Me.” Despite knowing each other for decades, it’s the first time Jones and Lauderdale have collaborated in the studio. Jones’ labelmates Deanie Richardson & Kimber Ludiker debut another new twin fiddle tune, this time offering their take on a Frank Wakefield classic, “New Camptown Races,” with a mighty backing band.
From experimental string band fringes we have a few stellar selections, as well. Award-winning banjoist Tray Wellington readies a new EP – set for release August 8 – with a performance video of an original song, “Man on the Moon,” continuing his creative relationship and fascination with the earth’s celestial relative. It’s jammy, expressive, and contemplative and shows a blend of many of the different styles of ‘grass he often employs. Mandolinist and composer Ethan Setiawan has new music on the way, too. His next project, Encyclopedia Mandolinnica, arrives mid-August and to celebrate, he’s shared a track featuring Joe K. Walsh called “Mount Holly.”
Finally, you won’t want to miss the return of Thompson the Fox, Tokyo’s quartet of mind-bending pickers who combine jazz, bebop, new acoustic, bluegrass, and so much more. Volume 2 of The Fox In Tiger’s Clothing – entitled TIGER – drops next month, so we’re sharing “Minute Waltz Rag,” the group’s reimagination of Chopin’s quintessential composition that’s ragtime, bluegrass, classical, and jazz altogether. Still, it’s incredibly easy to listen to – and impressive in technique and artfulness, both.
It’s all right here on BGS and, truly, You Gotta Hear This!
Dallas Burrow, “Read ‘Em and Weep” featuring Ray Wylie Hubbard
Artist:Dallas Burrow Hometown: New Braunfels, Texas Song: “Read ‘Em & Weep” featuring Ray Wylie Hubbard Album:The Way The West Was Won Release Date: July 18, 2025 (video); September 26, 2025 (album) Label: Forty Below Records
In Their Words: “This song, which serves as the opening track of the album, is actually a musical sequel to a song I wrote with my good friend Charley Crockett called ‘The Only Game in Town,’ which I wrote all the verses for after he brought me a chorus and a chord progression. In that song’s third verse the narrator tells us, ‘The dealer is [his] friend and the house always wins.’ This song you might say serves as a challenge to its prequel, with the opening verse declaring, ‘I heard the dealer was your friend, I heard you know him well.’ Both, stylistically, were inspired by great gambling songs like ‘Mr. Mudd and Mr. Gold’ by Townes Van Zandt and ‘Dust of the Chase’ by Ray Wylie Hubbard. It was only fitting then that Ray Wylie would sing on this tune. I gave him the whole record to listen to and this was the one he picked out to sing on. It was quite the honor to have him sing the entire second verse, since he’s always been one of my biggest inspirations and heroes. The tune opens with producer Lloyd Maines counting it off and playing a striking harmonic guitar part. As the track continues to build it is further brought to life by Lloyd’s legendary Dobro playing, and Katie Shore’s immaculate fiddle work.” – Dallas Burrow
Chris Jones & the Night Drivers, “How Small of Me” featuring Jim Lauderdale
Artist:Chris Jones & The Night Drivers Hometown: Nashville, Tennessee Song: “How Small of Me” Release Date: July 18, 2025 Label: Mountain Home Music Company
In Their Words: “Jim Lauderdale and I have been friends for decades now, but this is the first time we have ever sung together on a recording, so I’m really happy about this. Meanwhile I co-wrote the song with John McCutcheon, somebody I first met when I was a teenager, and though more recently, he’s somebody who the band and I have performed with a few times at the Walnut Valley Festival in Kansas, we had never written a song together until last year, and ‘How Small of Me’ is one of our first results.” – Chris Jones
Track Credits: Chris Jones – Acoustic guitar, lead vocal Jim Lauderdale – Harmony vocal Mark Stoffel – Mandolin Grace van’t Hof – Ukelele Jon Weisberger – Bass Tony Creasman – Drums Chris Scruggs – Steel guitar
The Last Revel, “Static”
Artist:The Last Revel Hometown: Minneapolis, Minnesota Song: “Static” Album:Gone For Good Release Date: July 18, 2025 Label: Thirty Tigers
In Their Words: “It’s a simple little song about how overwhelming and confusing love can feel especially in the beginning. It’s about losing yourself and everything you have just to spend time with the only person that seems to be vibrating at the same frantic frequency while everything else seems still and static.” – Lee Henke
Artist:Deanie Richardson & Kimber Ludiker Song: “New Camptown Races” Release Date: July 18, 2025 Label: Mountain Home Music Company
In Their Words: “‘New Camptown Races’ is a song that Kimber and I played together last year and it went so well we knew it was one we wanted on this record. I went to a recording from one of my fiddle heroes, Randy Howard, on this. I will admit, I did steal a few licks from Randy on this one. Love that my dear friend is with us on this track.” – Deanie Richardson
“We have long loved Frank Wakefield’s great mandolin tune ‘New Camptown Races,’ which quickly became part of the bluegrass canon when he first recorded it in 1957. We set out to create a twin fiddle reimagining of this classic Bb tune with the spirit of a high-energy late-night jam with phenomenal playing by Tristan Scroggins on mandolin, Kristin Scott Benson on banjo, Cody Kilby on guitar, and Hasee Ciaccio on bass.” – Kimber Ludiker
Ethan Setiawan, “Mount Holly” featuring Joe K. Walsh
(Click to listen)
Artist name:Ethan Setiawan Hometown: Cornish, Maine Song: “Mount Holly” featuring Joe K. Walsh Album:Encyclopedia Mandolinnica Release Date: July 23, 2025 (single); August 15, 2025 (album) Label: Adhyâropa Records
In Their Words: “This one’s for the Fogels, at whose cabin in Vermont I spent a couple of great New Years, and who smoke the most delicious meat at all hours at festivals in the Northeast. I started to work on the tune in 2022 or 2023 up in Vermont and then finished it soon before tracking with Joe in early 2024. I finished it without a mandolin in hand, which lately has been a good exercise in letting my ear rather than my hands guide the composition. I’m playing mandola and Joe is playing octave mandolin, because we had to get in those low mandolins!” – Ethan Setiawan
Thompson the Fox, “Minute Waltz Rag”
Artist:Thompson the Fox Hometown: Tokyo, Japan Song: “Minute Waltz Rag” Album:The Fox In Tiger’s Clothing, Vol.2: TIGER Release Date: August 9, 2025 Label: Prefab Records
In Their Words: “Following our May release of The Fox In Tiger’s Clothing, Vol.1: FOX, we’re excited to announce the upcoming release of its sister album, Vol.2: TIGER, coming out on August 9.
“The album title is a play on two phrases from different cultures: the Japanese proverb, ‘The fox borrowing the tiger’s authority’ and the English idiom, ‘A wolf in sheep’s clothing.’
“While Vol.1: FOX consisted entirely of our original compositions, Vol.2: TIGER is a collection of cover tunes. Ahead of the album’s release, we’ve just shared a music video for ‘Minute Waltz Rag.’ It’s a reimagining of Chopin’s beautiful waltz, which I arranged in two-time for this quartet. We hope you enjoy it!” – Takumi Kodera
Artist:Tray Wellington Hometown: Raleigh, North Carolina Song: Man on the Moon Album:Spatial Awareness (EP) Release Date: July 18, 2025 (single); August 8, 2025 (EP) Label: Free Dirt Records
In Their Words: “‘Man on the Moon’ is one of the most personal songs I’ve ever written. I wanted to capture how easy it is to hide struggle behind a smile and how many of us carry that weight silently. Writing has always helped me process things I hadn’t fully acknowledged and I hope it can do the same for someone else. This track was also one of my favorites for production as it’s one of the songs I feel like we really captured the feelings of the song throughout.” – Tray Wellington
Video Credit: Rob Laughter
Photo Credit: Tray Wellington by Heidi Holloway; Dallas Burrow by Melissa Payne.
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