Tag: Banjo

From Lonesome, Gorgeous Texas Hill Country
to the World

Posted on by Justin Hiltner

There’s little to no stage banter when the Droptines play a show, with the Austin, Texas-based band sometimes cramming 30 songs into a 90-minute set. However, as their new album, Drought Flower proves, they still have plenty to say. Their original songs touch on broken relationships (“Old Tricks”), family grief (“Mamaw,” featuring Sarah Jarosz), and losing loved ones to addiction (“What Ate My Friend”). As a nod to classic country, there’s often a little bit of clever wordplay to offset the drama, too.

Named for the downturned deer antlers that are prized by hunters, the Droptines (rhymes with “stop signs”) first took shape with an EP release in 2019. Lead singer-songwriter Conner Arthur has since guided the group through indie albums, relentless touring, and now their debut set on Big Loud Texas, the label founded by Miranda Lambert and Jon Randall. The five-piece band hasn’t yet moved into a tour bus, though. Instead, they travel in a retrofitted school bus with upgrades that would impress any road musician. (It sleeps 10 people and has a bathroom, two air conditioners, and a built-in trailer space.)

Growing up in the Texas Hill Country town of Concan, Arthur watched countless musicians play at his family’s venue, House Pasture Cattle Company, during the summer season of city folks floating the Frio River. But the rest of the year, when nothing was really going in town, influenced him just as much.

“I learned how to be alone in Concan,” Arthur says. “I learned how to clear my mind and ignore my hunger pangs. But I would always watch and study people. Especially because if you’re driving through Concan in, say, January, and you see a car that you don’t recognize or someone you don’t recognize, you’re shocked and you want to go talk to them. You’re just caught in your own little village for so long. Having an outside perspective from my little narrow worldview was very, very important to me.”

A few days ahead of a full slate of tour dates (and just before stocking the school bus), Arthur called into Good Country to talk about what inspired the new music.

For people who haven’t been to the Texas Hill Country, how would you describe it?

Conner Arthur: The drama of the limestone bluffs, the crystal clear waters of the Frio River – man, it’s hard not to have a religious experience every other day. Especially when it rains and the floodwaters start moving. Everything there is so dramatic and explosive and chaotic. From the summer to the off-season, you have three months of complete and utter chaos, then the rest of the year is just silent. There are some days where I’d walk out and just sit there looking at River Road waiting for a car to drive by. And I was starting to freak out, thinking that I was the last person on Earth.

More than likely I think that made its way into my personal life. It’s just a large juxtaposition, and a dichotomy of high highs and low lows. But I learned how to handle it, growing up there. We didn’t get internet or cell phone service until 2012, and that’s a great way to grow up. My backyard was 200,000 acres. I could ride horses without hitting a fence line for miles. I wish that more people had that upbringing. I wish that I could provide that for my kids.

If you didn’t get the internet until 2012, then you got to experience live music at your family’s venue before the cell phones in the air and people documenting every show.

Oh yeah. The funny thing about House Pasture is [that] it’s changed hands but it stayed in the family. My biological father and my uncle started it. They failed, so my grandpa bought it from them. And then it was kind of a “break even” type of venue. It was just an addendum for someone who’s gonna go down to Concan and float the Frio anyway. Like, “Oh, we can go see so-and-so.” I mean, I’ve got scars all from being this tall and women ashing cigarettes out on my collarbone. Not on purpose!

I learned more about what I didn’t want to be, seeing the evolution of the Texas country scene come through there. I saw that evolution get commercialized in the mid-2000s, like 2005 and 2006. But when I was a little guy, I got to see the Great Divide. I got to see Gary P. Nunn. I got to see John Conlee. I got to see Earl Thomas Conley. I got to see all these really high-class acts. Reckless Kelly is still one of my favorites from that era. Robert Earl Keen, the list goes on. Even if I didn’t like it, the song’s going to be in my head. It is still red dirt Texas country. I still know every word to all these other musicians’ stuff that I’m not a fan of, because it’s just ingrained in you. You can’t avoid it in that environment.

What were you doing before you jumped into music?

I was in construction throughout high school and I’ve gone back and forth over the years when I needed money. But when I was 18 years old, my mom pretty much gave me an ultimatum. She said, “If you don’t go to college, you’re cut off.” And I was like, “Well, I don’t really care. I don’t like ultimatums.” So I grabbed my banjo and I hitchhiked the country for about a year and a half.

I got back home, and that was like going 90 miles an hour into a brick wall. The fantasies in my head were dashed out by my mom’s disappointment. She said, “You’re gonna have to get a job.” So I went back to construction for a little bit, then I joined up in the oil field. I was an oil field mechanic for about two years, and I said, “I’m not going to die out here in the Eagle Ford Shale.” So I made a decision. Just to give me some more confidence, I went to the bluegrass program in Levelland, Texas, at the [South Plains] College. I did that for two years and went home and knocked out our first EP with David Beck.

I knew you played the banjo, but I didn’t know that you had studied bluegrass.

Dillon [Sampson], our bass player, and I both went to South Plains and he’s way more of a bluegrass cat than I, but my story about how I got into playing banjo is just kind of happenstance. My older brother came into some money when we were young, and I won’t go into the details on how he got it, but it was burning a hole in his pocket. He bought this Deering Goodtime open-back banjo and it was sitting in the back of his truck. I was about 14 and I had plenty of guitars floating around the house. And I had a piano, but I never really broke through on it because it was just an instrument for me to get a song out.

I don’t know if it was the open tuning or just the fact that it’s hard to not have a good time playing banjo, but I broke through on it. I could start developing an understanding of music theory and scales. I don’t know why it made sense in my mind that it was less intimidating than 72 keys or six strings. You go down that road, and then are you a gimmick banjo player or are you good? That’s what led me to South Plains. I’m not going to disrespect the institution of bluegrass or the instrument of banjo. I’m going to do my best to play it. But I need to play more. I need to stay on it, because that is not a bike. Your agility and endurance of playing the banjo collapses if you’re not tickling it once or twice a day.

Is that the same for writing with you? Do you need to consistently write, or can you put that away for a while and come back to writing?

I’m always kind of writing in my head and building concepts, then I’ll scribble it down. I’ll more than likely lose the piece of paper I scribbled it down on, but I’ve always said if it’s worth remembering, then I’ll remember it. But I probably lost a thousand songs that way. It’s like a floodgate. I sit around and I’ll have an idea, and I’ll get a quarter way through it, blah, blah… But it’s not until the band all sits down in a room and we all have the intention to write, and these things just… “Boom!” There goes the dam.

In several of your songs, there are references to pills or addiction. On this record, you have “What Ate My Friend.” That’s a reality for a lot of people. When you’re tackling a heavy topic like that, how do you get into that headspace, knowing you’re going to jump into something serious?

A lot of that, it’s lived in for sure. I’ve had men that came before me that did it so I didn’t have to. Back to, I know what not to do now. And my brother Landry being one of them. I lost him to all that shit a couple years ago. He and I were Irish twins. The same thing happened to my biological dad’s brother. At the same age, the same exact circumstance, and they both died on their birthday.

“What Ate My Friend,” I can’t even remember writing that one, but I know that I showed up with all of it, and that’s rare. I have this band to lean on, but I showed up with every bit of that. This was all here. It’s not just about my brother, but a couple friends I have. Just like, “I know you’re on meth, dude, but why is it making you a liar?” Like, you can be honest with me, just tell me. It’s getting in the way of our friendship if you’re going to turn into a liar.

I thought there was a nuance, kind of, what I refer to as the days of country gold, the wordplay of like, “She’s Acting Single (I’m Drinking Doubles).” That’s so important in country and bluegrass music – that play on words – and that one is like, “Hey man, what’s eating at you?” All right, what’s the extreme of that? “What ate my friend?” I thought it was pretty decent, but yeah, that’s a rough one, you know, but it’s real, unfortunately. It’s real for a lot of people. And I hate that. I hate that anybody has to suffer.

You’ve been around music from the time you’re a kid, and now you’re doing this full time. What has surprised you the most about this career path that you’re on?

The main one is that there’s viability. I said this in an interview before, but I just thought playing music was a good excuse to be a loser. And then to see it all pan out! It starts to feel like work, but work is good, especially if it bears fruit, which it is, and it’s starting to even more so. But to be able to build a foundation for my future family off of the back of these songs, that right there is top tier, number one, the most important thing. I can’t be more grateful for that and the blessings that God’s given us. Just having people come religiously to your shows, and singing words, it gives you faith in live music, for sure. It is a little shocking to me, at the end of the day that I didn’t make all this up.

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Photo Credit: Jessie Addleman

Unplugging Made Josiah and the Bonnevilles’ As Is Possible

Posted on by Justin Hiltner

By now, Josiah Leming is a master of reinvention. In the early 2000s, he signed a major label deal, then went indie for a while. Some of his albums leaned on his rock influences; others were more folk-oriented. He’s released a healthy number of covers projects, but can write songs as well as anybody who’s been in the business for 20 years. Leming also recorded under his own name before rebranding himself as Josiah and the Bonnevilles. And he’s about to be all over the map, literally, when he launches his Redline North American Tour in May with openers Max Alan and Brenna MacMillan.

Josiah and the Bonnevilles’ base should only grow with As Is, out May 8 on Rounder Records. Returning with a more electric approach, Leming co-produced the album with Konrad Snyder.

“It was important to me that the album sound different, but not so different that people don’t recognize it,” Leming tells BGS. “That was actually a pretty tough thing to do, because it’s easy to change things and really turn them on their head, but to have it still feel like it came from the music that came before it was something I thought a lot about.”

A proud native of Morristown, Tennessee, and now living in Nashville, Leming caught up with BGS to talk about how he picked up the banjo, the positive results of listening to Ralph Stanley, and how Jack Reacher helped him define his relationship with his fans.

I noticed the first line of the first song on the new album is, “I’ve been staying out and off the internet,” and after listening to the album a couple times, I realized that’s an important line for this whole record. Was there sort of a recentering, or a desire to disconnect, maybe, as you went into this album?

Josiah Leming: It was a huge part of it. And I still struggle with it a little bit, because the reason I got to where I am now is because I embraced the internet, I embraced social media, and I shared my life with people, day in and day out. I was 33 years old, fighting and scrapping to have a place, making music as a living. But I found as we got toward the end of 2024, the things that I was doing to sustain the level that I was at were coming directly at the cost of the essential thing that goes into the music.

Like, things had never been better. My shows were as big as they’d ever been. Everything was cooking on all cylinders, but I didn’t have any new songs that I was very excited to share. I needed to completely cut myself off from that world of the promotion cycle and the daily posting. … I have always written so autobiographically, and it would have been very easy for me to write an album about the struggles of the road or an album that would make a lot of sense to me. But I started thinking about 13-year-old Josiah in Morristown, Tennessee, and that guy doesn’t care what it’s like to be in Tulsa on a Thursday night, and maybe you’re a little lonely. Like, I gotta cut deeper to the core of this thing that’s not just about me.

That took me 30 or 40 songs to write out all of that stuff, to get to where I could look a little deeper for the meaning and the songs that somebody would understand if they weren’t a touring musician. That was the ultimate goal for me with the record, to make something where people don’t think about me when they listen to it. They can maybe just put it on in the garage. When I put on Ralph Stanley or AC/DC in the garage, I don’t think about Angus Young or Malcolm Young or Brian Johnson. I think, “Damn, this is an awesome day. This is a soundtrack to my life.” And I hope I have done that somewhere on this album.

How much of an influence did your Appalachian roots have on this album?

It’s really interesting. So the bio for the album was written by an author named Silas House. We had a chat and he actually asked me a similar question. He was like, “It feels Appalachian, even though it isn’t that obvious.” I think that’s because of the language I use that I grew up with. I think a lot about when I write, “Would my dad understand it?” My dad’s a simple, working-class man. So if things get too complicated, lyrically, then I want to change that to make it simpler.

That’s a lot of it, and I really went into the deep phase with Ralph and a lot of older stuff. That really changed my perspective on how I see myself in this industry. It’s very easy to start to get into this race to the top, and you’re looking at analytics, and you want more monthly listeners and all this stuff. Listening to bluegrass, and Ralph Stanley especially, all that kind of disappears, and it just becomes about the raw emotion of it. Which is what I fell in love with in the first place, when it felt like I had to do music.

How did Brenna MacMillan get involved with the project?

I was tracking a demo to a different song, a song I love but that’s very strange. And I was like, “I really want a banjo player.” Back in the day, I used to use Craigslist to find background singers because I love finding new people. So I put up an Instagram story and somebody sent me Brenna’s account. I watched one video and I thought, “This is just like lightning in your veins.” She’s so awesome. The energy in the banjo and the voice. And we had connected but it didn’t work out that particular moment.

So when it came time where I wanted banjo on the record, I hit Brenna up again because we’d exchanged numbers. She came in, and she’s just amazing. She doesn’t know how good she is. She’s been tour managing the band East Nash Grass, which I love. I’ve been listening to them a ton right now. I was like, “We need you in the band.” So now she’s in the band, she’s touring with us, and she’s going to open up the shows. I’m so excited for people to hear her.

When did you first pick up the banjo?

My grandpa gave me a banjo. He loved George Jones. He was a hard-drinkin’, George Jones-lovin’, bluegrass-lovin’ guy. He had a banjo and a Dobro he gave me, and I fiddled around with that. And then, all of us guitar players, when we find the six-string banjo, we’re so pumped because we don’t have to learn all these new chord shapes. So, it’s been a couple of years that I’ve been adding in the six-string banjo on things when I play, and I still play that on “Redline.” I am using the finger picks now, rather than my nails. So I feel like I’m starting to cross the bridge… if I can learn some shapes on the real banjo, maybe I can do some damage one day.

In “Redline,” it seems like you’re writing for the people you grew up with. People in your life who have hope, but it’s just hard. Who do you have in mind when you write a song like “Redline”?

It makes me emotional, honestly. I think about my dad all the time. It’s like I have all this… it’s not anger, but there’s very strong feelings. While I’m doing very well in my career, it’s better than it’s ever been, most people that I know are not winning in this modern world. Where everything is through the phone, and it’s the only way to access social circles. It’s the only way sometimes to order a damn McDonald’s sandwich. And there’s just this barrier, there’s this divide.

I see it with my dad, and my grandparents, just being left behind. And also working people. We shot the video for “Hell Without the Flames” down in Colombia, because that’s where all these jobs have gone, and now they pay these people even less than they paid before. So there’s just something that I can’t get out of my brain. I think about it all the time. That’s an important song to me. We love playing it. The band loves playing it. So I appreciate you asking that, it means a lot.

You’re welcome, and this may be a good segue to ask about “You’ll Never Leave Harlan Alive.” I found your version when I was going through your Country Covers EPs. It tells a similar story, about how grandma and grandpa had to keep working to live. Why did that song pull you in?

I probably heard that song first on Justified and I think that would have been the Darrell Scott version, the original. And I had always loved it. I mean, that’s just one of the best songs ever made. Talking with Silas about it, or anybody from the region, it’s so complicated because there’s so much pride. I like to think that there’s so much pride in working for so little, but these people are exploited over and over again. We don’t have aspirations of gold palaces or island complexes, so we’ve just been consistently taken advantage of, because we have this value system that’s a lot different. It makes you sad, sometimes it makes you angry, and sometimes it also makes you proud, and it’s really complicated feelings around all of it.

But it also seems like it’s important for you to share the music that you like. You’re writing songs that you want your audience to relate to. You’re covering songs to maybe introduce the music you like to your fans. You’re bringing musicians you like out on tour with you. Your fans can tell what you’re into through the company you keep. Is that part of your creative vision, to share with your audience who you’re listening to and what you like?

I think so, yeah. I was thinking recently, I always had service jobs growing up. I would serve tables or I would bartend. As I get older, I just see myself as having a responsibility. I think I had the responsibility to get off the internet for a year to write the best album that I could, rather than perpetuating my brand with songs that sounded similar. I feel like I have a responsibility to have the upbeat songs in the set list. If people are flying into town or driving 10 hours, it’s my responsibility to give them an experience.

There’s a great quote that I love from the Jack Reacher books. I love anything like James Bond, Reacher, or Tom Clancy. I love that stuff. But the author of Jack Reacher has a great quote about a handshake. And to make a handshake work, there’s got to be the hand on the other side that shakes back. I think about that in everything I do these days, since I read that. I wouldn’t get a lot of benefit out of just making music that I love and putting it out in the world if there’s not that hand on the other side. So I am at the point in my life where I think about those people that I’m looking at when I play live, and there’s a responsibility to me to weave what I’m excited about into what I hope will connect with them.

Want to see Josiah and the Bonnevilles live at the Fonda Theatre in Los Angeles on May 21, 2026? Enter to win tickets here!

Photo Credit: Sam Desantis

Old Spot’s Transatlantic Old-Time Playlist

Posted on by Justin Hiltner

(Editor’s Note: Below, United Kingdom-based old-time duo Old Spot – Rowan Piggott and Joe Danks – curate a Mixtape for BGS celebrating old-time music of the UK and Ireland. In order to include as many tracks as possible representing the vibrant string band scene in the UK, some selections are shared via Spotify and others via Bandcamp, depending on availability. We hope you enjoy listening and learning about transatlantic old-time – and that you support all roots musicians directly whenever possible.)

This is a Mixtape designed to highlight some of the amazing old-time string band music coming out of the UK and Ireland at the moment. Old Spot is a product of a vibrant scene, with the fiddlers and bands around us just as influential to us as their American counterparts.

This playlist looks to reflect some of the musicians performing string band music today, whilst shining a light on lesser-known gems. In compiling it, we’ve realized how much of the music we love on the old-time scene here isn’t on Spotify – if you love any of this music, buy it from the artists who made it! Anyway… less jawin’ more sawin’… – Old Spot

“Elzick’s Farewell” – Rattle On The Stovepipe

Rattle On The Stovepipe formed in 2003 and have played up and down the UK spreading old-time with band stalwarts Pete Cooper and Dave Arthur joined later by Dan Stewart – probably our favorite banjo player in the UK. This groovy version of “Elzick’s Farewell” is from their first album with Dan, No Use In Cryin’.

“Maggie Mead” – Follywren

Follywren is the brainchild of Bristol musician Kai Carter. We love lots of stuff that Kai does – his old-time trio is great and his original music (Kai & Hollis) is also a tour car staple. We have a real soft spot though for this amazing Follywren album, described as a kind of New Orleans-inspired electric string band. The tuba and electric banjo actually end up landing you somewhere between Clyde Davenport, Ghanaian Highlife, and Captain Beefheart’s Shiny Beast era… a good place to be.

“Rainbow” – Cath & Phil Tyler

Cath & Phil Tyler straddle the traditional and experimental music scenes in the UK and run the Newcastle sacred harp singers. Their albums are a treasure trove of ballads, with Phil’s mesmeric guitar and banjo playing supporting Cath’s one-of-a-kind, transportive voice. In some ways though, they are at their best a cappella where their background in shape note style really shines.

“Shanghai Skyline” – Jeri Foreman & Ruth Eliza

Jeri Foreman & Ruth Eliza are a powerhouse fiddle and banjo duo and you always want to see them on a festival lineup. Where these guys go, good tunes follow and their debut album shows off their musical connection beautifully. Recorded live, we’ve chosen one of Jeri’s tunes to highlight here.

“Chicken & Dumplings” – Ben McManus

Welsh musician Ben McManus is a multi-instrumentalist and promoter of old-time music in the UK. He’s schooled in the history of old-time and has done a number of interesting projects exploring the connections between Wales and Appalachia. He’s also interned at the Smithsonian – absolute dude. This is a laid-back clawhammer guitar and cello version of “Chicken & Dumplings,” a favorite of UK sessions. This record makes us miss Ben, and not just because he makes a mean Negroni.

“Dormae” – Hannah Read

Hannah Read’s first Fungi Sessions album is one of our favorite ever records as a band. We loved the sonics of it so much that we travelled to the studio in Scotland where it was recorded to make our new album. Hannah is now based in the US, but hails from Scotland and comes over frequently to collaborate with the incredible Michael Starkey. Hannah has collaborated with indie royalty Big Thief, Julien Baker, and Lucy Dacus, and you can hear this broader sonic palette across her output. But the real star of these Fungi Sessions albums is her incredible composition and the subtle magic of her bow arm.

“Wolves A’ Howlin'” – Kieran Towers & Charlotte Carrivick

Kieran Towers & Charlotte Carrivick can most often be found in the bluegrass scene in the UK, but came together for this one-off old-time album of absolute rippers. Charlotte, one of the best flatpickers in the UK, reveals herself to be one of the finest clawhammer players, and Kieran, best known for shredding bluegrass solos, turns into prime Bruce Molsky. Being able to just casually drop this album as a side project is outrageous. A frustratingly brilliant album from two undeniable musical geniuses.

“Glory In The Meeting House” – Ben Paley & Tab Hunter

In our opinion, Ben Paley is the jewel in the crown of British old-time music. He’s performed in loads of different lineups with musicians from the South of England – probably most notably The Long Hill Ramblers and with his dad Tom Paley of The New Lost City Ramblers. His fiddling is just as good as it gets, full of character, groove, and skill. On this record from 1999, he’s backed by Tab Hunter who is an old-time backer with taste, power, and pocket.

“Pterodactyl” – One Night Stringband (Old Spot, Jeri Foreman, Ruth Eliza)

We recorded this collaborative album with Jeri Foreman and Ruth Eliza over the course of one night and a bottle of whisky. We put it out the following day after some hungover mixing and now we perform sporadically as The One Night Stringband for square dances and concerts. We’ve got our seventh and eighth gigs together this summer!

There’s a kind of exploratory madness in these recordings and we all chose tunes we couldn’t get to hang quite right in our duos. There’s a raging version of Rhys Jones’ “I’ll Reap What I’ve Sown,” a version of “Josie-O,” and this, Ruth’s prog-y old-time wig-out “Pterodactyl.”

“Benton’s Dream” – High Strung Trio

From Cork, Ireland, this is one of our favorite old-time records of the last few years. From ex-members of the Grits & Gravy Stringband comes a new trio record of uncompromising ragers. Fiddle player (and luthier) Ian is an absolute machine on this record, laying down danceable bangers like it’s nothing. A great record to pick up new tunes or to power a long car journey, we can’t stop listening.

 “Two Little Sisters” – Sugarwell Hill

Sugarwell Hill is a trio from Leeds in Yorkshire. This is a new record from them that the scene has been anticipating for a while. Recorded confidently and simply, it’s a great snapshot of what is so magical about this laid-back band. “Two Little Sisters” features Simon’s relaxed vocal delivery and groovy banjo playing set against Mick’s gritty fiddle playing. We’re so lucky to have these three in the scene over here, and can’t think of a bad time to stick this beautiful new record on.

“Walk Me Round” – Rhona Dalling

Rhona is another Bristol-based fiddler, singer, and banjo player. This record is, so far, her only recorded output, but like so many of the best trad musicians, her best music happens in sessions and muddy fields. She has an incredible fiddle style, full of poise and effortless technique, and a beautiful voice. This quietly beloved record features a great waltz and her tune “Balfour Road,” which is played in trad sessions up and down the country and has really transcended the old-time scene, thanks to a recording by bal folk band Topette!. Perfect for a rainy day.

“Bear Creek” – Lankum

Whilst most of their repertoire is drawn from Irish folk, experimental trad behemoths Lankum often close their sets with this old-time tune. We couldn’t not include it after watching 20,000 people bouncing up and down to it at Glastonbury!

“Bowling Green” – Joe Mansfield & The Temperance Two

Bristol-based Joe Mansfield is another person you love to see walk through the door at a jam. He’s got an amazing repertoire and is a great hang. He’s got a new duo called The Low Line (watch that space), but he gigs out all the time with the Temperance Two. This is a great version of “Bowling Green.”

“The Roustabout Song” – Old Spot

We heard “The Roustabout Song” sung at a Morris Dance festival singing session. The song sounded distinctly American – a bit of digging led us to English folklorist Sandy Paton and, in turn, the songwriter Dillon Bustin. The song was written at Pinewoods Camp and according to Paton presented both a cappella and with a “lazy river” banjo accompaniment. We’ve done a new joyful fiddle-singing version, bringing out the song’s subtle political undertones. Unfortunately the parasols are twirling faster than ever.

“June Apple” – The Firecrackers

The Firecrackers are five of the UK old-time scene’s stalwarts, and they whip up a frenzy wherever they go. This album of field recordings is a good snapshot of them doing their thing and Benton Flippen’s “June Apple” is their signature tune.

One of the band’s fiddle players, Dave Proctor, edits Old Time News, the quarterly old-time magazine published by FOAOTMAD (Friends of American Old Time Music and Dance), a grassroots organization that has supported the growth of old-time in the UK so much over many years.

Photo courtesy of the artist.

Friends New and Old

Posted on by Shelby Williamson

Editor’s Note: Each issue of Good Country, our co-founder Ed Helms shares a handful of good country artists, albums, and songs direct from his own earphones in Ed’s Picks.

Suzanne Cox & Brandon Ratcliff
Suzanne Cox & Brandon Ratcliff

Suzanne Cox (of the GRAMMY-winning bluegrass band the Cox Family) and her son, country singer-songwriter Brandon Ratcliff, are taking the internet by storm with their lovely and tender familial harmonies. Their duets have racked up millions of views and likes on social media, leading to a new EP, Mother/Son Volume 1, and a recent appearance on the Grand Ole Opry. Those voices!

Rhiannon Giddens
Rhiannon Giddens

You may have seen, I’ve had the good fortune of getting to spend a lot of quality time making a film – and doing plenty of banjo pickin’! – with Rhiannon Giddens recently. Since shooting An Ode to Mary Jo together, I keep going back to Rhiannon’s catalog of recordings and cannot get enough. This duet with fiddler Justin Robinson is from her most recent release, 2025’s What Did the Blackbird Say to the Crow. Fantastic old-fashioned, down-home fiddle and banjo music drawn from North Carolina.

I'm With Her
I'm With Her

I’m with I’m With Her, too. One of our favorite trios in Americana and bluegrass released a brand new live album today, Sing Me Alive, packed with 20 tracks captured at performances across the country and in Canada. Many familiar favorites can be found alongside cover songs and tracks they’ve never released before. Here, they’re joined by Ye Vagabonds in Rocky Mount, Virginia, on “Rhododendron” in November of 2025.

Tenille Townes
Tenille Townes

Our Good Country and BGS Artist of the Month, Tenille Townes, released the first full-length album of her independent era last week. As she describes in our exclusive Artist of the Month interview, she took a much different approach to recording this music, doing most of the tracking herself, alone. The songs are deep, meaningful, and cathartic – and damn good. But it’s not an entirely solo album, as I’m With Her (how perfect) and Lori McKenna both feature on tracks. Hear McKenna join Townes on the title track, “the acrobat.”

Charlie Worsham
Charlie Worsham

Our old pal Charlie Worsham is back at it – though he truly never stops. A sideman, radio and podcast host, session player, songwriter, and artist, Charlie does it all. He’s got new music of his own out and the GC team can’t wait for more. As he usually does, he’s once again calling on his superlative cohort of friends in Music City. On his most recent single, “They Never Do,” it’s Lainey Wilson joining in. From some teases on social media, though, we’re expecting many more special guests on Charlie’s outings in the future!

Listen to this issue of Ed’s Picks in one YouTube playlist here.

Listen to the full Ed’s Picks archive playlist here.

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Photo Credits: Suzanne Cox & Brandon Ratcliff by Chase Hentges; Rhiannon Giddens by Karen Cox; I’m With Her by Alysse Gafkjen; Tenille Townes by Madison Rensing; Charlie Worsham courtesy of the artist.

Boy Golden is Rooted in Roots

Posted on by Justin Hiltner

Lots of people are taking a shine to Boy Golden lately. Radio stations in Canada sent his populist pop single, “Suffer,” to the top of the modern rock chart. He produced William Prince’s 2025 album, Further from the Country, which recently received a Juno nomination in the Contemporary Roots Album category. And he’s among the new additions to the esteemed Telluride Bluegrass Festival lineup in June.

Offstage, Boy Golden is Winnipeg-based musician Liam Duncan. (His mother’s maiden name is Goulden, so he conjured the stage name Boy Golden.) In addition to jumping across genres, he’s also crossing the Canadian/American border this spring, with dozens of U.S. tour dates to promote his new album, The Best of Our Possible Lives. Duncan recorded the project in Los Angeles with fellow Winnipeg guitarist Austin Parachoniak, producer Robbie Lackritz, and cream of the crop LA studio players.

Duncan called in to Good Country to talk about making the new record, though the conversation also gravitated toward his abiding love for bluegrass music.

“Suffer” has been a big hit for you in Canada. What do you remember about trying to get “Suffer” to sound the way you wanted it to sound? Was it hard to come up with that song?

Boy Golden: No, that was a quick one. I sat down and wrote it all in one chunk. I remember it taking about an hour, maybe. But then I did make several demos of it, and throughout that process, I did edit it a fair bit and experimented with different lyrics and arrangements. By the time I got to the studio, I was really confident in the foundation, the bare bones of it. I could trust the musicians there, and they nailed it.

On that song, Pino Palladino plays the bass, which is really cool because he’s a legend, and then Abe Rounds is on the drum kit and he’s a really great drummer and musician. We had a few drummers we were thinking about asking, but I listened to Abe’s solo album – which is called The Freedom to Make Mistakes – and his percussive sensibilities on percussion instruments, beyond just the drum kit, were so spot on. It made it an easy decision, because I really wanted a lot of percussion on this album.

Why is that?

A lot of records that I love have a lot of percussion, first off. I was listening to a lot of Ry Cooder. I was listening to a lot of Paul Simon. The percussion on those records is fantastic. But also I was thinking about the first record I made as Boy Golden and I really went overboard with the percussion on that album. I hadn’t listened to it in years, I was in a store in Portland, and the guy running the store put on my song while I was in there. I was like, “Oh gosh, this is really great!” [Laughs]

I went back and listened to the record and I was like, “I should do that again,” because the records that I made between that first one and this one were way more stripped back. I made both of them on different types of 8-track tape machines so there’s just not as much room to go crazy with it. And I knew I was gonna have the freedom to do anything on this record.

The album before this one [For Eden] had a lot of banjo. Are you still grabbing the banjo from time to time?

Oh, yeah. I made a demo yesterday that has a bunch of banjo on it. And I spent the Christmas holidays just shedding some old-time, which is a really fun thing to do and does not bother my family much!

When did you pick up the banjo originally?

When did I pick up the banjo… 2020? 2019? Somewhere in there. It wasn’t, like, always a thing, but I’ve always loved bluegrass, and I’ve always listened to a fair bit of bluegrass, but I was just in a big phase. And I think part of it was, I was like, “I am never going to be a good enough guitar player to really play bluegrass, so maybe I should try a different instrument.”

You included “The Year Clayton Delaney Died” on that first record. Is Tom T. Hall somebody that you gravitated toward?

Yeah, particularly his bluegrass record, The Magnificent Music Machine. It’s such a good album! Something I love about that album is, a lot of bluegrass is pretty dry, and that record is not. It just sounds like a bunch of people playing in a big room, like maybe a church or something. I don’t know how it was recorded, but I love the energy on that record.

What are some of your other favorite bluegrass records?

My favorite bluegrass records are the Bluegrass Album Band’s Volumes I through III. [Laughs] They’re my favorite. I love a lot of what’s going on in the old-time scene right now, like Nora Brown and Stephanie Coleman. And I love playing music acoustically with friends. I love sharing songs that way. I grew up going to the Winnipeg Folk Festival, and that was where I was first exposed to bluegrass, and it has been a lifelong love. And I feel like it does make its way into my music, even though I write kind of pop songs or something. I like to produce in all sorts of different ways, but on each song on this album, I tried to have at least one element that felt distinctly rooted in roots, whether that was a guitar part or a banjo part or a pedal steel or whatever. I just tried to always have some sort of grounding in the roots.

Reading up on you, I found that you were a Gillian Welch fan.

Yeah, I saw Gillian and Dave for the first time this [past] year at Winnipeg Folk Fest. It was very emotional for me. I cried a lot because I had a friend pass away right before we made this record. We had made a record together, me and this friend, and one of the songs was called “I Dream an Ocean,” which was inspired by “I Dream a Highway.” We would just bond over those records so much. … I could cry right now thinking about listening to Gillian and Dave when he was here. It was super affecting and really gorgeous.

I’ve enjoyed the videos that you put out so far and I think visuals must be really important to you. Can you talk about the concept of the video for “Cowboy Dreams”?

Yeah. I had a couple pretty specific visual references. One of them was the Brazilian tune “Águas De Março,” which has a great video you can find of Elis Regina and Antônio Jovian duetting that song together on an old stereo capsule mic. You can put [that mic] off-axis and then you can both sing into it. Anyways, it’s just a really beautiful video, and I love watching it because they have such chemistry. Me and my friend Cat [Clyde] have a great creative chemistry as well. We wrote that song together and made the demo together. So, I thought we could basically steal that concept and make it a little more cinematic by putting a 360-degree dolly camera around it. I love that shot.

The other one was a killer Sade video that’s all in black and white, and she’s galloping on a horse bareback, which is beyond my skill level, and it’s just so cool. Cat’s a really good rider. I was not a great rider. I’m still not a great rider, but I took a bunch of riding lessons leading up to that video shoot and got myself to the point where I could gallop comfortably. The ranch where we shot the horse stuff is run by some friends of mine, and they gave me, like, a Cadillac of a horse, so it was super easy.

You’re riding a horse in that video and you’re in Lake Winnipeg on your album cover. I’m assuming you’re pretty outdoorsy. Do you like the great outdoors?

I do, yeah. Yes sir. There are references to the natural world in my writing a fair bit.

Say you’ve got a free afternoon, what would you do?

Well, right now in the winter, I go cross country skiing. I go a couple times a week, usually. And I love cross country skiing, because it’s very meditative once you get into the flow and if the conditions are good – kick, glide, kick, glide. … And you can get into the woods with it, which is what I like about it. I mean, you can’t downhill ski where I live, because it’s just flat, but on cross country, you don’t need a lift pass. You don’t have to pay any money, usually. Maybe a trail fee of like $5 but once you get going, you can get onto this trail and you’re in the woods in the middle of winter. It’s a pretty special experience, not something everyone gets to enjoy, or even maybe realizes is as wonderful as it is. You know, to be out in the woods in the middle of winter, it’s sweet. And in the summer, I like to hike. I like to backpack.

That reminds me of the song “Blue Hills” from one of your past records. That one seems more of a country-leaning song to me. What inspired you to write that song?

I was thinking about being in high school actually. The town I grew up in is called Brandon and Brandon famously has hills [laughs] in Manitoba and they’re called the Blue Hills of Brandon, ostensibly because from a distance, they kind of look blue, I guess. And I was under the impression when I wrote that song that I had a great aunt or some ancestor who had written an old song called “The Blue Hills of Brandon.” I found out later from my dad that I must have made that up, because I don’t! That person who wrote that song is not my ancestor.

But either way, at the time, I thought she was, so I was like, “I’m gonna write my own version,” which I thought would be really special. I was thinking about high school, I was thinking about my late grandma and grandpa. Thinking about how those really early memories of love are so tangible, no matter how old you get. That’s why I say, “It’s the only thing I know to be true.” It’s like, that early love just was true.

When did the spark start for you as a songwriter?

I always wanted to write songs, but I was really blocked until I was about 21 or 22. And then I had a relationship end. It’s a common story, and I think I was so heartbroken that I didn’t really care if I wrote anything bad. And then it was like a spiritual revelation for me.

Had you been on stage a lot before that moment?

Yeah, I toured with my high school band all over. We played over 600 shows together. I’ve been in some sort of band with friends since I was like 14, so it’s been a lifelong thing. But I kind of thought I would just be a producer. To be honest, I never really thought I’d end up doing this.

When did you turn the corner? When did you decide, “All right, let’s make it happen”?

I guess when I had enough songs. And then I made a record that came out under my own name, which you can’t really find anymore. And then I came up with the Boy Golden character and idea and had a bunch of songs that I felt like were in the Boy Golden world. And ever since it’s been an obsession.

Photo Credit: Best of Our Possible Lives album cover

Max Allard Wrote a Banjo Concerto

Posted on by Justin Hiltner

The banjo, a sonic staple of folk and bluegrass, has often been left to its established devices in traditional circles or, more optimistically, among contemporary newgrass like Punch Brothers, the Infamous Stringdusters, and New Grass Revival, which included the genre-bending banjoist himself, Béla Fleck. Still, some musical spaces, like classical performance and composition, remain largely devoid of the banjo despite its lengthy and socially complex history, global presence, and tonal variety. Thankfully, between artists like Fleck, Noam Pikelny, John Bullard, and others, classical compositions have had a chance to shine on the instrument, paving the way for next-generation players to embrace and mix the traditions of classical writing with the distinct sound and musical capabilities of the banjo.

One such figure rising to the occasion is composer and artist Max Allard. A recent graduate of Oberlin College’s Conservatory of Music, the Chicago native is a champion of many cultures and genres in his work, which Allard describes as “an unclassifiable mix of bluegrass, jazz, new acoustic, classical, and pop.”

Allard has brought his stylistic openness to every facet of his artistry, including a duo with his brother Otto Allard; a bluegrass ensemble he co-founded, EZRA, that includes mandolinist Jacob Jolliff, guitarist and composer Jesse Jones, and bassist Craig Butterfield; and his touring support of Michigan-based bands Full Cord and Westbound Situation and Virginia-based band the Hackensaw Boys. Another instance finding him pushing banjo boundaries was his collaborative performance with fellow banjoists Bill Evans, BB Bowness, Cassidy Beentjes, and Matt Flinner in an adventurous arrangement of “In C,” the iconic composition by American minimalist composer Terry Riley, as part of a commissioned work series at the 2025 FreshGrass Festival.

Many of these ambitions grew alongside or after Allard’s studies, giving him several creative contexts in which to nurture his knowledge of classical forms and styles. One of the most impactful of these opportunities was part of Allard’s collegiate work itself: A Concerto for banjo and mixed ensemble. Encouraged by his EZRA bandmate and Oberlin professor Jesse Jones, Allard wrote his single movement work in 2023, giving the world premiere with the Oberlin Contemporary Music Ensemble under conductor Tim Weiss in December 2024. Though the piece has long since debuted, Allard’s vision for what the concerto would accomplish and what the experience of writing it revealed to him along the way remain ongoing sources of inspiration and guidance as Allard continues to write and perform for anyone who wants to listen. (Watch a video of Allard’s Concerto below.)

BGS recently spoke with Allard over the phone, discussing the many branches of his work as an artist and composer. We dive into how each stylistic space blends with his classical training, where he sees the banjo’s place in classical performance, his thoughts on cross-genre efforts by other artists, and more.

How would you describe the journey around your Banjo Concerto and its compositional process?

Max Allard: I had anticipated [the piece] for a while. I had gotten into Oberlin College as a composition major and part of the reason I chose Oberlin is because composition faculty member [Jesse Jones] comes from a background of playing bluegrass. He plays mandolin, some banjo, and guitar so I knew that I would have someone in the faculty on my side to help me, to know where I was coming from and to help guide the path forward in terms of a study and a pedagogy that I had not been taught before. So Jesse told me, “I think it would be great for your work here at Oberlin to culminate into a banjo concerto.”

I had the plan of approaching the banjo as a concert instrument – and as a concert instrument with the supporting ensemble. To do that, I had to get away a little bit from the folk aspects of the banjo in terms of a composition process, while still embracing those same aspects in terms of style.

[The concerto] sort of started as a banjo draft. And something I think is interesting to mention is that people have compared my banjo playing before to piano players and it’s a very valid comparison, because I take a lot of inspiration from piano players like Keith Jarrett, Chilly Gonzales, and many European classical composers like Sergei Rachmaninoff and Frédéric Chopin. I have long thought of the banjo as a very capable instrument to take solo composition very seriously on. I had to find ways to creatively think about which instruments to give various roles to. The nice thing was that I got to pick the makeup of the ensemble. I knew I wanted to have celesta. I wanted to have clarinet, flute with piccolo – there were certain sounds I knew I wanted to include.

I had very specific ideas about which instrument fulfills which role. It’s definitely a string-heavy piece and I’m a huge fan of writing for strings. So I had known that this piece would provide me the depths that the banjo doesn’t always have. I thought, “I can fill out these luscious piano-like chords that I usually like to write on the banjo, with the help of the supporting string section that has a much broader range than the banjo has by itself.” It was actually really liberating for me, because having an ensemble with a very diverse range – not just timbre-ly, but sonically and in terms of highs and lows – I had many options. It was a really great blank canvas for me to further explore creativity without some of the limitations of the banjo, be it physical or range related, or what have-you. I was able to basically apply my banjo knowledge and compositional tendencies to a blank slate, which presented a lot more opportunities.

What are your thoughts on the banjo’s “place” in classical music?

The banjo has a very checkered, problematic history and there’s a lot of moral debate that I’ve witnessed amongst people about what the banjo’s role is. It has had many different roles – a lot of it actually being erased. We talk about the problematic history of the banjo being used for minstrelsy but we actually forget about the banjo’s history of being used in parlor music. For a long time, the banjo actually had a role being played in parlors and social events, and even playing classical music.

I find it funny when people sort of criticize the banjo these days because the reputation has been ruined so much. People tend to think of the banjo with the film Deliverance. That film sort of ruined the reputation of the banjo as being this hillbilly folk instrument that’s not taken seriously. Unfortunately, that stereotype still exists, so people sort of scoff at banjo players who want to elevate the instrument into a certain concert environment.

I think all instruments can be used however people want. It’s like the artist has a final say in how they want to showcase their instrument. But for me, I think I’ll always still want to pay my respects to the traditions of the banjo. And as I said, the banjo has, throughout history, been used in a variety of different contexts. What I try to do is bridge the gap of pedagogic composition and folk music. If we’re talking about my banjo concerto, I want to write well-written concert music but [avoid creating] a totally contrived piece of music that just tries its best to fit the banjo in with an ensemble. I want to at least take my understanding of bluegrass, folk music, and old time music and still amalgamate it with concert music.

What do you find you learn most from other banjo players who have thrived in the classical space like Noam Pikelny, Béla Fleck, John Bullard, and others?

Broadly speaking, if [banjo players] want to put our instruments in the classical space, we need to do our best to understand the way the classic musicians think – really get in the minds of classical musicians. If one, as a banjo player, wants to pursue classical music, it behooves them to get at least a decent understanding of concert music. And I think most banjo players [like Fleck, Pikelny, Bullard] who have attempted that absolutely do have a different understanding. I just think the understanding of how deep it actually goes, what details go into really good concert music – it just takes a long, long time to master. And I am nowhere close to mastering it. But I at least have an understanding of how little I knew before attending [Oberlin].

Are there any aspects of Terry Riley’s “In C” that were especially challenging to capture with this banjo-centric arrangement?

I should give a shout out to Cassidy Beentjes, who did all this arranging – a really good pedagogue of the banjo. In terms of limitations though, the key [was one]. With the banjo’s natural key being G major, we took the piece down to a G-major tuning, so it makes much more sense to play the piece in G, especially since we want to achieve certain overtones. We could have played in C with a C tuning, but a lot of complexity would have arisen from playing in a foreign tuning. We were already uncomfortable in the first place, you know, with a piece of music like this, because banjo players don’t get the opportunity to do something like this very often, so we were careful.

What aspect of your musical identity does EZRA help you to fulfill that you don’t necessarily achieve in the same way with other pursuits?

I’d say it’s a good opportunity to write for a smaller acoustic ensemble where there’s a good understanding of not only folk and bluegrass, but also classical and jazz music.

It makes a big difference when you’re writing for people who you’re friends with – writing for people you know. You want to give people roles that you know they’re going to enjoy doing and that they do well. When I write for EZRA, it’s definitely much more stripped down and basic than if I were writing something like the banjo concerto. Because with the banjo concerto, I give very specific instructions, I supply a whole score with those specific instructions for everyone to read from. And when I’m writing for EZRA, usually I’m just writing lead sheets, just chords with the melody. In terms of arrangements, that can be discussed in the studio.

It’s funny though, because anytime we’ve recorded a record, we’ve had such limited studio time that we have to get our act together in just 72 hours or so and make our arrangements studio-ready. But again, that’s freeing for me, because I can write more vague ideas, stuff that I would not feel as intrepid writing with a big ensemble. When I’m with EZRA, I can just do whatever the heck I want and know that we can get away with it in some way. It’s also definitely a great opportunity for me to write contemporary folk music that is absolutely rooted in folk and bluegrass but also has all these other influences. A lot of Béla Fleck influence, a lot of classical music as influence – all kinds of stuff. It’s definitely a very special opportunity for me.

What’s the most unique aspect about the duo you perform in with your brother? How do you both approach playing together?

I guess the main thing that stands out is just the brotherly synergy. My brother is the easiest musician to play with because we know each other so darn well. Not much has to be planned – there’s almost never any stress. We’ve played plenty of gigs where we haven’t rehearsed at all beforehand and it goes pretty well just because we can glance at each other a certain way and know exactly what we mean musically. We’ve also played gigs where like a half hour has gone by and the whole thing is improvised. We just weave sounds together and it’s great.

It’s great to have a brother who plays music because it’s just that very intense, personal connection that one has with their sibling. You know each other so well that no communication really has to be done verbally. In general, playing with my brother is just very fun because we make crazy, spontaneous decisions and do ridiculous things that we would not do in any other setting.

Do you think the folk and bluegrass communities could better embrace the banjo being a genre-versatile instrument? And do you think that schools or community spaces are the best starting place to initiate that shift?

If I were talking to a banjo player who wants to get into classical music, I would say you can learn just as much by surrounding yourself with the right people. I think the most viable option is to try to meet some people who come from that background. And it can be any background. Like, say you want to get into a certain style – find musicians who can do that and try your best to talk to them, befriend them, whatever you can, and surround yourself with that. I think community is always important in the arts. Definitely, it’s very important to surround yourself with people – not even not necessarily like-minded people – but people who have very different experiences and very different backgrounds. Personally and musically in any way.

I think the bluegrass culture and scene could definitely benefit from opening themselves up a little bit. I think sometimes we forget that bluegrass has a very progressive foundation to it. Even Bill Monroe valued when he heard New Grass Revival. He was supportive of it, supportive of all those people who were taking bluegrass in a different direction. So I think it’s very progressive by nature. And music has always evolved and always will evolve and it has to sort of be accepted.

I think the banjo is actually in a very good place right now, because we’ve never had so many banjo players. It’s very good because the banjo is becoming popular for the right reasons – not necessarily gimmicky reasons, with banjos being used in pop music – but it’s being taken seriously amongst musicians from all different types of backgrounds. Broadly speaking, I don’t have too many complaints. I think it’s in good hands.

Photo Credit: Tanya Rosen-Jones

The Lowest Pair Are as Enchanting as Ever

Posted on by Justin Hiltner

It’s fitting to enjoy the Lowest Pair’s new album, Always as Young as We’ll Ever Be, in the opening weeks of a new year. In particular, the song “Give It All Away” gently offers a theme of letting go amid an orchestration of acoustic guitar, banjo, and other subdued instrumentation. As the song swells, a soft percussion begins to underscore a sense of renewal.

“I feel the lightest when I give it all/ Give it all away,” sings Kendl Winter in the opening moments; she’s later joined by bandmate Palmer T. Lee when they harmonize on a simple yet poetic lyric: “Before the sun, there was the rain/ Before the rain, there was the sun.”

Indeed, it’s been quite a few seasons – six years in fact – since the Lowest Pair released an album of their own. The duo enlisted Tucker Martine to produce the new project, recorded in Portland, Oregon. There are some surprising musical textures for longtime fans of the duo, but at the heart of the Lowest Pair, there’s still the welcoming vibe that’s enchanted listeners since their 2014 debut album.

“We were really excited about the recording situation, being with Tucker Martine in his studio, and having such beautiful musicians paint our songs, to flesh them out more than just the two of us,” Winter says. “They really did lean into the medium of the studio and the sounds that were available to us. There are a lot of instruments and musicians…”

“… A lot of other people’s ideas coming into the mix. We were just feeling open to that,” Lee adds.

Although both Winter and Lee are reluctant to divulge too much about the meanings behind the songs, listeners will certainly relate to lyrics about making it through rough patches (“Diamonds”) and learning to find comfort in the unknown (“Uncertain Seas”). The album’s country-tinged closing track, “Thorn,” is an elegant ode to getting past the pain.

“You visit these things that hurt often. I mean, we all do,” says Winter, who wrote the song. “That’s what grief is, right? You’re kind of hoping you’ll figure it out, and then it’ll go away. …

“With Always as Young as We’ll Ever Be, the whole theme is now, and now, and now, and trying to be in the present with things. There’s a love and there’s a ‘go to hell’ in that song. There’s a wanting to hold things sacred but also let them go.”

The album is actually named for a song that didn’t make the final track listing; Martine loved the phrase so much that he insisted the band should keep it as the title. The words are wistful enough to also call to mind the 2009 bluegrass festival in Minnesota, where Palmer, Lee, and a few other musicians stayed up late jamming along the Mississippi River.

“That was really pretty special!” Winter recalls. “Both of us were playing banjos in different bluegrass bands at the same festival. I saw Palmer playing and singing and I loved his voice and I loved his melodic style. I still hadn’t seen a bunch of other banjo players exploring more, like, off-the-grid playing and more melodic approaches. And after he played, I think I said something about it, right?”

“Well, I think the first time, you were just like, ‘Hey, nice banjo playing.’ And I was like, ‘Thanks, random person,” Lee remembers with a laugh. “Then maybe a few hours later, you were just like, ‘I really dug your melodic style,’ And it’s like, ‘Oh… you’re a banjo player.’”

Growing up in Arkansas, Winter heard the banjo in bluegrass, but considered herself more of a punk rocker. Hearing Béla Fleck & the Flecktones changed her perception of what tones and sounds could come from the instrument. Lee, a Minnesota native, inherited two banjos – one from each side of his family – when his relatives heard about his burgeoning interest in music. He dismantled them both to create one instrument specifically suited to his personal taste.

Several years later, after that initial encounter at the riverbank, Winter decided to quit her band; Lee asked if she needed a singing partner. Remembering their easy musical bond, she invited him to Olympia, Washington, where she’d relocated in her early twenties. In turn, he asked her to make a duo record with some time he’d already booked. Thus, the Lowest Pair was born.

“I think, serendipitously, both of our bands were falling apart at the same time, and I was exploring ideas about how to move forward in my career,” Lee says. “It was like, maybe if I collaborate with somebody and make a record that way, that could be a way forward.”

Now living about a mile apart in Olympia, Winter and Lee will be touring the Pacific Northwest this spring. At the merch table they’ll have some lino-cut carvings and prints, new posters, stickers, and T-shirts, and of course, vinyl copies of Always as Young as We’ll Ever Be. (The album art is a watercolor painted by Winter’s mother, Jill Morgan.) Along with the new material, they’ll also be mixing in catalog cuts like “Too Late, Babe” and “Rosie.”

Asked about the enduring popularity of the former song, Lee chalks it up to placement on an editorial playlist when it was released as a single in 2020. “I have this vague memory at one point of someone after a show mentioning that we played a really good cover of that ‘Too Late, Babe’ song,” he says. “That was like, ‘Hell, yeah!’”

As for “Rosie,” Winter says, “Yeah, that one’s still in the set list. That one is a really early one. I was playing that even before we had started the Lowest Pair. And it’s really interesting what people latch onto, because it’s simple. I mean, I wrote it crying.

“I think with songs, you can kind of feel the ones that come from your heart. They did the thing. They gave you the goosebumps when you wrote it, and then they continue to have that effect, and it’s pretty cool.”

That emotional effect remains in place for Always as Young as We’ll Ever Be, too.

“I took a lot of space from it and hadn’t listened to it for a few months before we started talking about what we’re gonna do with it,” Lee says of the album. “And I remember being kind of surprised. You know, there’s an amount of pride and accomplishment. I was grateful to have contributed to it.”

Photo Credit: Sarah Cass

The Foreign Landers Celebrate the Banjo in Ireland & Northern Ireland

Posted on by Justin Hiltner

The five-string banjo is often associated with Appalachian music, but its reach has always extended beyond one place. In Ireland, the banjo is traditionally heard as the four-string tenor banjo, a cornerstone of Irish folk music. This playlist celebrates the banjo in Ireland and Northern Ireland, but focuses instead on five-string banjo players, highlighting Irish and Northern Irish artists who are bringing bluegrass banjo into folk, Americana, and contemporary acoustic settings. The tracks here feature musicians working across traditions and genres, using the banjo as a bridge rather than a boundary.

For us, The Foreign Landers, this playlist is closely tied to our own story. Our songs, woven throughout the playlist, reflect life lived between Northern Ireland and the U.S., and the relationships, faith, and sense of distance that shape that experience. In a small way, that mirrors the five-string banjo’s own journey across time and place. Our new album, Made to Wonder, is our expression of these ideas; including our music alongside these other innovative artists helps frame our transatlantic sound within a much larger conversation.

Alongside our music, you’ll hear boundary-pushing banjo work from artists like Flook, JigJam, Damien O’Kane, Ron Block, I Draw Slow, Brian Finnegan, and NÁVA, each offering a different answer to the same question: What does bluegrass banjo become when it’s rooted in Irish soil?

The result is a playlist that honors tradition while continuing to move forward. We hope you enjoy. – The Foreign Landers

“Made to Wonder” – The Foreign Landers

The title track from our new album, this banjo-centric song is about stepping away from noise and busy-ness to find true rest and belonging in Christ, whose yoke is easy and burden light. Featuring Tristan Clarridge (Crooked Still) on cello, adding depth and resonance.

“Road to Errogie” – Flook

There’s something infectious about Flook’s craftsmanship and energy – especially when five-string banjo enters the mix, played by the incredible Leon Hunt of the UK. A major influence on our sound.

“Gold Mine” – I Draw Slow

Irish-based and deeply rooted in both Appalachian and Irish traditions, this clawhammer-driven track blends heritage with heart.

“Johnny’s Peacock / The Red-Tailed Hawk” – The Foreign Landers

Two original tunes deeply informed by Tabitha’s heritage, joined by John Doyle, Brian Finnegan, and Cathal Murphy, bringing Irish tradition and bluegrass energy together.

“John D. McGurk’s (The Heartbeat of St. Louis)” – JigJam

JigJam seamlessly bridge U.S. and Irish folk scenes. Irish banjoist Daithí Melia delivers powerful five-string work on this fun, high-energy track.

“Mario Kart Rides Again” – Ron Block & Damien O’Kane

Two banjos – five-string and four-string – done right. Ron Block of Alison Krauss & Union Station and Damien O’Kane of the Kate Rusby band make for an unxpected delightful pairing. Here is a playful, virtuosic track from their album Banjovial that’s near to Mario Kart-loving hearts.

“Pictures” – The Foreign Landers

Led vocally by David with Tabitha on banjo, this original song draws on our own experience of long-distance dating. “Pictures” captures the quiet weight of distance – and how old photographs can briefly collapse time and place. The unconventional role of banjo on this track is one of our favorite sounds on the new album.

“Marga’s” – Brian Finnegan

A must-include from the County Armagh master himself, featuring Crooked Still with Greg Lizst on five-string banjo. Both four-string and five-string banjo shine in this expansive, genre-blurring piece.

“The Thrifty Wife” – Ron Block & Damien O’Kane

Another Ron and Damien double-banjo banger. Their three collaboration albums are essential listening when talking about banjo in Irish music. Bonus mando moments from Sierra Hull seal the deal.

“Traveler”– The Foreign Landers

Narrated from the perspective of Tabitha’s parents back in Northern Ireland, “Traveler” reflects on growing older, separation, and the tenderness of loving someone from afar. Another unconventional banjo track that we loved making.

“Magic Box” – Nava

Irish Americana and folk meet Persian influences, led by Ireland’s Paddy Kiernan on five-string banjo. A rich example of cross-cultural musical exploration.

“Hope” – Cup O’Joe

Featuring Tabitha’s two brothers (alongside David and Tabitha), this title track from Why Live Without blends Northern Irish roots with progressive Americana.

Photo Credit: Nicole Davis, Storied Artisan Photography

The Man That Made All of Us Play the Banjo

Posted on by Justin Hiltner

(Editor’s Note: For Earl Scruggs’s birthday, Thomas Goldsmith revisits a star-studded bluegrass festival tribute to the banjo legend from 1971 in Camp Springs, North Carolina. The 102nd anniversary of Scruggs’s 1924 birth in Flint Hill, North Carolina, is January 6, 2026.)

Like speakers at a testimonial dinner, each musician strode to the microphone in turn.

But instead of heaping on words of praise, a stage full of well-known pickers and up-and-comers used banjos to pay a lively tribute to Earl Scruggs.

The scene was the 1971 Labor Day weekend bluegrass festival in Camp Springs, North Carolina, at a performance where some of the best banjo players around joined Scruggs on stage. Led by the five-string king himself, banjoists including Sonny Osborne, J.D. Crowe, Bill Emerson, and Alan Munde jointly played Scruggs’s signature tune “Foggy Mountain Breakdown,” some 22 years after its first recording.

The performance is a highlight of the 1972 documentary Bluegrass Country Soul, which enjoyed a 50-year deluxe re-release five years ago. Watch the clip here.

 

Sonny Osborne (left) gets emotional onstage after introducing Earl Scruggs (right). Screenshot from clip courtesy of Bluegrass Country Soul, Inc.

Promoter Carlton Haney invited more than a dozen banjo players on the festival schedule to play along with Scruggs, who was then 47. (A second group performance, of “Dear Old Dixie,” doesn’t appear in the film. And a couple of the “Foggy Mountain Breakdown” performers didn’t make it to the screen.)

Millions of viewers have seen the clip as part of the movie or on YouTube, with Osborne bringing Scruggs on with an introduction that sounds starstruck.

“(It’d) be only right to call out probably the man that has made all of us guys up here play the banjo, or either has been a great influence, as he has in my complete life,” Osborne said. “In my whole banjo-playing ability … I could probably credit to this one man.

“Let’s all give a tremendous welcome to probably the best in the world, Earl Scruggs!”

Scruggs seemed overwhelmed by the audience’s ovation. The cheering feels as though it lasts forever, but took only a minute and a few seconds.

“That really fills my heart with joy,” Scruggs said after Osborne introduced him. “I did want to say one thing: Thank you, and guys like this is what keeps me going, my boys who works with me and you people who keep preaching music.

“I just don’t know what to say, except I’m picking with some guys that plays a tremendous amount of banjo. Don’t underestimate anybody up here. Man, they’re great.”

Earl at a Crossroads

In 1971, Scruggs had only broken up with his longtime duet partner Lester Flatt less than two years earlier. Not even a month before Camp Springs he had recorded along with other greats for Nitty Gritty Dirt Band’s country-roots-popularizing Will the Circle Be Unbroken set. He was venturing into a country-rock sound with his band the Earl Scruggs Revue, along with his sons Randy, Gary, and Steve.

However, Scruggs’s work as a musical innovator remained – and remains – fundamental to the way a large share of bluegrass banjo players address the instrument. That’s true despite the introduction of a single-note style most associated with Don Reno and a chromatic or melodic approach heard in the playing of Bill Keith and Bobby Thompson.

Most of the pickers in the 1971 “Foggy Mountain Breakdown” performance used the three-finger picking style Scruggs introduced in a band with Bill Monroe and Flatt on the Grand Ole Opry in 1945. The exception among the Camp Springs pickers, Rick Riman of the New Deal String Band, caused something of a stir with his chromatic rendition of the tune, not to mention his long hair, full beard, and striped shirt and pants.

How did Riman, who had also studied Scruggs style closely, decide to use the flowing melodic style for “Foggy Mountain Breakdown”?

“I just thought, “OK, let’s see if I can make this work,’” Riman, 83, said on the phone from Denver, Colorado, speaking to BGS in January 2026. “Because I had not prepared anything, and I didn’t even know what was on the program. They just said they want all the banjo players up there to pay tribute to Earl. And I said, ‘OK, I’ll get up there and do it.’”

And what has the reaction been?

“Mostly negative,” he said, with a touch of humor.

“One person said they were really glad to see somebody step out of the standardized [method], and that felt very, very good. Somebody else said, ‘You won’t believe how many people thought that you shouldn’t have been on stage at all.’

“And I get that a lot. That’s mostly the reaction I get, that I shouldn’t have been on stage. I shouldn’t have even been in the parking lot, like the least talented person on the stage and probably the least talented person in the whole park.”

The chromatic style remains one effective tool in the hands of players such as Béla Fleck and Noam Pikelny, but Riman, 28 that day in 1971, has gotten a load of grief over his choice to add some variety to the line of Scruggs-style players. “I would say, over the years, it’s pretty much been like 50-plus years of derision,” he said.

Riman has had one regret. “I should have practiced more,” he said. “I should have been better, but I had no idea.”

Although at Camp Springs he performed in the more recently created melodic and chromatic styles, like everyone on the stage that day in North Carolina, Riman was schooled in the style of the man honored beside them.

“I was really fascinated by Earl and anybody else who played his style pretty well,” he said.

 

Earl Scruggs reacts to his introduction and audience ovation and applause onstage in 1971 in Camp Springs, NC. Screenshot from clip courtesy of Bluegrass Country Soul, Inc.

 

“Everybody Headed for the Stage”

We were fortunate to reach three of the banjo warriors who performed that day. Sadly, most of the players heard then have since died. Eddie Hoyle, then 14, the youngest of the Camp Springs lineup, is among the survivors and is still actively performing. He talked to BGS on the phone in December from his home in Georgia.

“I was up there playing with Curtis Blackwell and the Dixie Bluegrass Boys and I just remember them telling me that Carlton wanted all the banjo players to come down on the stage and play a tune with Earl,” said Hoyle, now 68. “So I got my banjo out, and everybody headed for the stage.

“I didn’t know if I’d get to take a break or not, but somebody got me in the line that was walking up to the mic. So it was pretty cool. And I remember I was not nervous; OK, probably didn’t know enough to be nervous.”

Most of the players that day stuck fairly close to Scruggs’s own licks on “Foggy Mountain Breakdown,” but Hoyle and others ventured a bit from the classic performance.

“I always tried to learn the right way, as Dad told us to do, but then I would try to put my own twist on it,” Hoyle said.

Nearly half the banjo players that day have been inducted into the Bluegrass Music Hall of Fame. They include Scruggs himself, of course, as well as J.D. Crowe, Bill Emerson, Alan Munde, Sonny Osborne, and Don Stover. Another banjo picker, Saburo Watanabe Inoue, founder of the pioneering Japanese band Bluegrass 45, won the IBMA’s Distinguished Achievement award along with his brother Toshio, in 1995.

 

Sab Watanabe (who passed away in 2019) of the legendary Japanese band, Bluegrass 45, takes his turn at the mic. Screenshot from clip courtesy of Bluegrass Country Soul, Inc.

 

Alan Munde Remembers it Well

Munde, 79, still a player and teacher, also spoke to BGS about the experience from his home in Springfield, Missouri. He recalled that he was playing with Jimmy Martin and the Sunny Mountain Boys at the festival and took part in the group performance because Martin wanted him to.

“Thinking back on it and also remembering at the time, I didn’t really want to be a part of it, just because, then and now, I thought I would be so unworthy,” Munde said. “But I think Jimmy wanted me to do it, and you notice he’s there [in the film.] He thought I needed to be there, so I did it.”

Munde remembers the day as a landmark for him, the only time he heard Scruggs play live. Given all the great banjoists and backing musicians including Martin and Charlie Waller, it was an enchanting moment from the sound of Scruggs’s first lick.

“The thing that I remember so much about it is … we’re all standing there and Earl’s talking, and then he’s going to start to play,” he said. “And he, I always call this his ‘chang,’ where he just plays the first, third, and fifth string together and starts into the tune.

“As soon as he did that, I thought, ‘Oh my God, there’s that sound.’ It just was immediately apparent that he was the one.”

 

Alan Munde (right) is flanked by Earl Scruggs during the all-banjos jam of “Foggy Mountain Breakdown.” Screenshot from clip courtesy of Bluegrass Country Soul, Inc.

Like the first players to tune into Scruggs’s playing in 1945 and like players from Béla Fleck on, Munde appreciates Scruggs’s sound in a way that seems almost mystical. Scruggs produced something that no other banjo player could.

Jimmy Martin, Munde’s boss at the time, used to tell a story involving the great banjo man Vic Jordan to illustrate the way Scruggs’s beautifully nuanced playing and full tone stood above the crowd of his followers.

“Jimmy was kind of down on Vic Jordan a little bit,” Munde said. “And he would tell this story to show that Vic didn’t know the right way. He said when Vic met Earl, he asked him what kind of microphone he used.

“And Earl said, ‘Sometimes I use those little bitty ones, and sometimes I use those real big ones.’

“And Jimmy’s point was that, in his mind, Vic was asking because he thought it was the microphone. But it didn’t matter. It all sounded like Earl every time.”

And hearing Scruggs’s sound that day at Camp Springs, not through a mic, not on a record, but right there next to him on stage, made Munde think the whole exercise was somehow wrong.

“When he did that pinch, I thought, ‘Oh, God, I don’t want to be a part of this.’ What we should have done is just stood back and listened to him, and then said, ‘Do it again.’”

Despite his misgivings at the time, Munde has wound up glad that he took part in the Earl-fest that day.

“Looking back on it, it’s been nothing but good for me, that I got to be there,” he said. “Here it is, 50 years later, people still bring it up. It’s helped get me a little legacy recognition, that I was there, so that’s been real good.”

A Star-Studded Lineup

The career of Sonny Osborne has been well documented, but Bluegrass Country Soul makes clear his admiration and friendship with Scruggs. During the tumult of applause following his introduction, Scruggs asked if he could say something, and Osborne appears to grin and say, “Not yet.” And Osborne cracks up when Scruggs uses his up-the-neck solo from “Foggy Mountain Breakdown” during the last time around for the tune.

Bill Emerson, whose long career included membership in the Country Gentlemen and much more, was interviewed at the time of the re-release of Bluegrass Country Soul. He talked about the pantheon of great banjo players.

“Don Reno, he had his style on the banjo; Earl Scruggs, he had his style on the banjo; Ralph Stanley, he had a style on the banjo,” Emerson said in the set’s booklet. “And on the radio, I could listen to any of them, just the first few notes of an intro, and tell you who was playing. Just by the style that they were playing, the tone that they had, and the timbre. Most people, when they started out playing the banjo back then, they got a bunch of Earl Scruggs’s records and sat down and tried to learn to play like Earl. But it’s mighty hard to sound like Earl, I can tell you. I was never able to do that, so I just tried to sound like Bill Emerson.”

 

Bill Emerson takes his turn playing a solo on “Foggy Mountain Breakdown.” Screenshot from clip courtesy of Bluegrass Country Soul, Inc.

Also on the show was multi-instrumentalist Jimmy Arnold (1952-1992), whose career was one of a kind, including excursions into Southern rock and solo albums on guitar and banjo as well as stints with Cliff Waldron, Charlie Moore, and the New Tradition, according to a 1983 Bluegrass Unlimited story. The article, by Chris Wathen, quoted Arnold on Scruggs: “When you learn all of what you think is hard stuff and then go back and try to play one of his tunes, you find out what the hard stuff really is. It’s his stuff. To play with that much power and volume, you’ve really got to be on top of things.”

Another of the clip’s well-known pickers, Don Stover (1928-1996), had been an early convert to Scruggs style, learning it not long after Scruggs’s first performances with Monroe, according to the Bluegrass Music Hall of Fame.

Stover was known for his work with brothers Bea and Everett Lilly during many years of performances in Boston. He played and recorded as a member of Bill Monroe’s Blue Grass Boys in 1957, even contributing harmony vocals to “In Despair.”

Earl’s son Randy, who appears playing an archtop banjo just before the end of the clip, went on to a distinguished career as a musician, songwriter, and producer.

Doing Their Times

The 55th anniversary of this notable moment in bluegrass will arrive in September. Looking back, the picking ranges from respectable to spectacular, but doesn’t maintain the dead-even tempo that’s supposed to prevail in bluegrass music. Fans remember the story that Earl and brother Horace Scruggs, as boys, used to start playing a tune, then separate to walk around their Flint Hill house in opposite directions. The idea was to check if they were still in time with each other after being out of earshot.

The dozen players on the Camp Springs group number would not have passed this test, based on a stopwatch run-through. While Scruggs’s December 1949 original recording had consistent solos of right at 11 seconds, he started the round robin at about 12.69 seconds and tempos wavered from there.

By the start of Riman’s melodic solo, near the end, the time was more than half a second slower. Randy and Earl Scruggs wrapped things up at roughly the same tempo.

But that’s just a quibble.

 

A contemporary of Earl Scruggs, Don Stover also performed a rendition of “Foggy Mountain Breakdown” during the jam. Screenshot from clip courtesy of Bluegrass Country Soul, Inc.

 

Remembering Earl

Bluegrass Country Soul director Albert Ihde did bluegrass lovers a real service by capturing these moments and others at the Camp Springs festival. And promoter Haney had another brainstorm resembling the story, pronounced “stoah-ry,” that he recreated of Bill Monroe and former band members six years earlier at Fincastle, Virginia.

Viewers will keep calling up the video for its closeups of Earl, smiling and even bobbing up and down for his breaks, and for the scenes of several of his outstanding followers, appreciating their moments on stage as they rolled their way through “Foggy Mountain Breakdown.”

Many videos of Flatt & Scruggs can be found on the web that illustrate Earl Scruggs’s unmatched musicianship. In the Bluegrass Country Soul segment viewers can also see a strong memorial to Earl Eugene Scruggs the person, his warmth, humor, and unselfishness as well as his brilliance as a musician.

Thomas Goldsmith is an award-winning journalist based in Tennessee and North Carolina. In addition to producing many hundreds of articles for newspapers and magazines, he edited The Bluegrass Reader and authored Earl Scruggs and Foggy Mountain Breakdown: The Making of an American Classic, both books for the University of Illinois Press.

Learn more about Bluegrass Country Soul and purchase a Golden Anniversary Legacy Edition box set of the film here. Read more about the box set and the making of the film here.

All photos courtesy of Albert Ihde, Ellen Pasternack, and Bluegrass Country Soul, Inc. Lead image: Earl Scruggs (left) and son, Randy Scruggs (right), perform “Foggy Mountain Breakdown” flanked by bluegrass banjo stars of 1971.

Doc Watson & Earl Scruggs’ Friendship in Photographs

Posted on by Justin Hiltner

It’s no secret that Earl Scruggs and Doc Watson were great friends, collaborators, and mutual admirers. Both of the bluegrass, old-time, and mountain-music stylists took inspiration and borrowed heavily from the other across their careers, whether they were making music together or separately in any of their many endeavors. The moments they came together, though – from The Three Pickers album and concert film, to David Hoffman’s iconic backyard jam session film of the Scruggs and Watson clans picking together, to many more appearances and recordings – were always magical. Two legendary stylists bouncing musical ideas off of each other as only these two could.

In honor of our Doc in December series for Artist of the Month, we’ve partnered with our friends at the Earl Scruggs Center in Shelby, North Carolina, to bring you an exclusive look inside their collection and archives at photos of Scruggs and Watson together. The Center’s executive director, Mary Beth Martin, pulled a selection of historic photos from the collection as well as a handwritten quote directly from Scruggs’ notes about Watson and his influence:

“There are two people’s sound no man can, in my estimation, duplicate,” Earl states in a notebook. “Of course I’m referring to Mama Maybelle and Doc Watson. I’ve had the pleasure to work [with] and visit these people. I will never cease to admire the courage of these people.”

You can certainly hear the impact and influence of Watson and Maybelle Carter on Scruggs’ playing, especially his approach to acoustic guitar, when he would most often fingerpick the six-string.

“Earl had enormous respect for Doc and admired him deeply,” says Martin of the Earl Scruggs Center via email. “Both grew up in humble North Carolina homes surrounded by rich musical traditions and went on to leave an incredible mark on music. Having Earl’s personal memories and photos of Doc in our collection makes their connection feel especially meaningful.”

Over the course of their careers in roots music, Scruggs and Watson performed, collaborated, and recorded together dozens and dozens of times. We’re very proud to be able to share these photographs from the Earl Scruggs Center Collection to celebrate the cross-pollination of these two Bluegrass Hall of Famers and Doc in December.

The Earl Scruggs Center is located in downtown Shelby, North Carolina, and celebrates the life, legacy, and groundbreaking sound of Earl Scruggs. Their collection includes many treasured Scruggs family objects and remarkable pieces from Earl’s career – including more than 2,000 photographs. In January, they’ll install new interactive exhibits that dig deep into the roots of the region’s music and the history of bluegrass. The entire ESC team is excited to welcome everyone back to the museum when they reopen on February 3, 2026, after renovations and completion of the new exhibits.

Beyond the museum, the Earl Scruggs Center team are also restoring the Earl Scruggs Homeplace in the Flint Hill community of Cleveland County, bringing Earl’s childhood home back to the formative era that shaped him as a musician.

To stay in the loop and to catch upcoming Earl Scruggs Center events like the Earl Experience Banjo Camp, visit their website and connect with them on socials. We hope you enjoy our special photo story with our friends at the Earl Scruggs Center celebrating Earl Scruggs, Doc Watson, and Doc in December.

All photos courtesy of the Earl Scruggs Center Collection. Lead image: Earl Scruggs, Doc Watson, and Ricky Skaggs backstage at the taping for The Three Pickers.