One to Watch: Boston-Based Alt Folk Duo Sweet Petunia

From the crosshairs of the Boston folk community and punk/DIY scene emerges Sweet Petunia, an innovative duo consisting of multi-instrumentalist songwriters Maddy Simpson and Mairead Guy. A synthesis of banjos, queerness, emotive lyricism, and life-affirming harmonies, the pair’s music explores the fluidity of futurity, even when anchored in centuries of tradition.

With two EPs and several singles under their belt, Sweet Petunia graces the ears of multitudes with an active touring schedule and their vigorous participation in the Boston music scene. The queer alt folk duo’s commitment to community and uplifting overlooked histories only deepen the resounding impact that their music inspires.

So, to start things off, how did the two of you first meet?

Maddy Simpson: We both went to Berklee College of Music and we got placed into the same ensemble, 21st Century String Band, taught by Greg Liszt, who is an incredible banjo player. One day we were supposed to have an additional rehearsal with another guy that was in the ensemble, but he stood us up (shoutout Rob with your Legends of Zelda beanie with a brim!) The two of us showed up for the rehearsal and he never came. So we just had 45 minutes to talk to each other. We ended up talking about our goals, the music we liked, and found out that we had a lot of similar likes and plans for the future. So we decided to get together and play some music. When we did, immediately we were like, “Okay, let’s be in a band.”

What does your musical chemistry with one another feel like?

MS: Well, we always joke that we’re related. I mean, we do sound very similar when we sing together. So it kind of feels like we’re like a family band even though we’re not related.

Mairead Guy: Yeah, I mean it just works – really well. Obviously we put in a lot of work into what we do. But a lot of it feels very easy when we’re playing and arranging together. We have similar intuitions about the way things should go, and that makes it really fun and special to play together.

What is your process like when you songwrite and arrange together? And what’s it like arranging with two banjos?

MG: Most of the time we come to each other with an almost-completed song. Sometimes we write together, but usually we come together once the song is pretty much finished and arrange it from there. And that’s just a lot of playing it over and over and over and over, trying different things and seeing what sticks and what pops out.

That works! How did each of you come to the genre and/or the banjo?

MS: I came to folk music through the folk revival of the ’60s. I listened to a lot of Simon & Garfunkel growing up and then when I was a little bit older, I got into the folk revival revival, so like Mumford & Sons, The Head and the Heart, The Lumineers, and that kind of stuff. I had no idea that was just the tip of a really big iceberg – I didn’t really discover true traditional music until college, when I got really into old-time music and ’50s country blues and that kind of thing.

The reason I started playing banjo is that obviously it was pretty present in the music that I was listening to like all throughout high school and my childhood, but when I got to college I had a dorm-mate who played banjo. He was a banjo principal and he would play banjo in the lounge and the laundry room – just everywhere. One day I told him that I was interested and he said, “If you buy a banjo, I’ll give you lessons.” So over Thanksgiving break I went home, bought a banjo, came back, and started taking lessons with him. And then I started taking lessons with other people at Berklee and that was it for me – it became my primary instrument.

MG: So, I grew up in Virginia. There’s a lot of traditional, old-time bluegrass around in that area and a lot of my family is pretty musical – my uncle and aunt and my great uncle and his longtime partner. We’re are all professional musicians and my great uncle was a phenomenal clawhammer banjo player. My brother plays the banjo and I’d always wanted to play it, because it’s such a beautiful instrument. When Maddy and I first started playing together, we had a lot of songs where we would trade our instruments around. When she switched to banjo I thought it was the perfect time to finally sink my teeth in and do it. Similarly to her, once I picked one up I was like, “Oh my God, why haven’t I been doing this the whole time?” Yeah, it’s an addictive instrument to play.

I noticed that the stylization of a lot of your lyrics is super unique and you have several songs with strong narratives. Can you talk a bit about the song “Quilt Too Big to Fold”? I’ve had it on repeat for weeks.

MS: Thank you. Yeah, I wrote that song for a class. We were given this assignment to write a story song. And I was thinking a lot and sort of had this refrain in my head, “All you do is sit all day and sew.” So I did some journaling about all of the things that you can sit and sew. Fiber arts are really important to me and at the time of writing that song I was really into embroidery and I was getting really into visible mending – dabbling in this world of fiber arts.

I started thinking about all of the different fiber mediums you can have. And I started to think about quotes. And then, obviously, I’m also gay. I had already seen the AIDS Memorial Quilt, so I began to look into it more deeply. The quilt was started by a lesbian and was just one of the many forms of activism that came out of the AIDS crisis. The song sort of formed around that pretty quickly. It was easy to write given the fact that I’m queer and then just creating this work of fiction where I did a lot of thinking about what it would be like to go through that, taking my own passions and interests in sort of like translating them into a historical lens. And it was really an interesting process.

Really, really amazing stuff. I also saw that you both played an integral part in Club Passim’s inaugural Pride show? Can you talk a little bit about that and what that was like?

MG: Oh it was all Maddie! Well, we played it together, but it was all Maddie.

MS: Mairead kept me sane – I was freaking out the whole time. I was given the opportunity to curate Club Passim’s first ever truly Pride-themed show. We’ve done Pride open mics and once we had a queer festival, but that was during COVID, so it was all online. So we’ve had some queer-centered events before, but this was the first ever show specifically dedicated to Pride Month.

I was given this opportunity through The Folk Collective, which is an initiative that Passim is spearheading right now. Basically, it’s a cohort of 12 artists and cultural thought leaders that live in and around Boston. Passim has invited them into the club to synthesize what the future of folk music could be like, since folk music has, in the cultural narrative, been seen as a really white-washed and male-centric genre. So it’s 12 people of varying marginalized identities and people of all ages and races and gender identities and sexual identities coming together to talk about what the future of folk music could look like.

I was given an opportunity through the Folk Collective to bring together six queer acts who are making music either directly inspired by or within the traditional genre. We had several performers who played super traditional instruments – I mean, we both played banjo and we had somebody who plays the mountain dulcimer, which was really cool. We had somebody else who did country blues and talked about gender non-conforming people in the genre. And we also had some incredible singer-songwriters as well. It ended up being a crazy night of celebrating queer identities and also celebrating the traditional music that everybody at Club Passim loves so much. It was very, very awesome.

MG: Hell yeah. Beautiful night – Maddie put so much time and effort and care into curating all of these artists and making this happen in such an important and cognitive way, and it was just such an incredible thing to ride along the coattails of.

Hopefully there are many more! In general, what does the community feel like in Boston, within the folk scene, and how do you see Sweet Petunia fitting into it?

MG: I think that Maddie and I have a particular perspective on it just because we work at Club Passim, so we see all the musicians that pass through. But I mean, as is evidenced by the event that we just had, there is a pretty wide community of queer and trans folk musicians who are drawing inspiration from traditional roots music. And even beyond tradition, things like the pedal or lap steel are becoming super popular in different genres of music. Even the banjo people are using electric banjo to get a super sick like electric guitar tone and that sort of thing.

MS: Yeah, I was just gonna say that we sit in a really weird intersection, because we’re not quite in the traditional folk scene. We’re also really established within the DIY scene as well, which is primarily indie rock and hardcore music in Boston. But because we exist in both circles we get the best of both worlds. Sometimes we get asked to play punk shows, but we also can play listening room venues like Passim.

Outside of the folk and Americana scene, what are your biggest influences right now?

MS: I love slowcore and also the huge bootgaze thing that’s happening right now. I feel like I exist in the perfect time to be 25 and into DIY music, because most of the music being made around here at this point has some bootgaze element.

Could you define bootgaze?

MS: It’s like shoegaze-inspired country music. Or country-inspired shoegaze music. Some blur into indie rock, some are just shoegaze bands that use country instrumentation or come from a place where country music is the main genre. The band Wednesday is probably the biggest right now. They sort of pioneered the genre. MJ Lenderman, Florry – there’s lots to explore if you look up bootgaze or countrygaze.

What about you, Mariead?

MG: I mean, definitely same. I’ve also really been loving a lot of hyperpop and pop music recently. Just like the energy in songs like that is so interesting. I’ve been thinking a lot about the banjo as a similar percussion to a drum machine in a super fast hyperpop song. I’ve been trying to think about ways to incorporate that because most of the songs that I write make you feel kind of bad, but I think it’d be kind of fun to write songs that made you feel kinda good.

I think you’re onto something! Do you two have any fun projects coming up?

MG: We’re working on a Dolly Parton cover EP. Every year for Halloween since 2019 (except for 2020 because of COVID) we have done a Dolly Parton cover set. And so this will be our fifth year of Dolly Parton cover sets. So we wanted to do a little something to commemorate it.

MS: Yeah, it’s gonna be really fun. That’s coming in October. There will be a bill for a cover show. So if people are local to Boston, they can come to that.

That is so exciting! So you’re our One to Watch, but who are you watching? Are there any artists, creatives, musicians, etc. that you’re appreciating especially right now?

MS: I think that my one to watch is Roman Barten-Sherman, the person from Passim’s Pride show who does traditional country blues. She’s incredible. She’s so good. She is so smart. And so well-read and knowledgeable about early American country blues. During her shows she’ll introduce every song with so much knowledge about the genre and people who play it. She knows so much about gender-nonconforming and trans individuals and Black women who have contributed to the genre. She knows everything – it’s crazy. And then she’ll play the song and it’s the best fucking thing you’ve ever heard. She’s just so good. I think she’s going to take over the world. She’s my one to watch.

MD: I definitely second that – she’s one of the people I was thinking of. I would also say Jarsch. Just absolutely incredible, visceral songwriting. Beautiful lyricism relating to both the pain and joy of queerness and gender and life itself – religious trauma, all sorts of things. Everytime I see her play I literally just cry and cry. It’s so beautiful. She’s the only person I’ve seen able to yield a guitjo in an appropriate manner, and she just has so much love for what she’s doing and the community she’s in. I feel very lucky to know her. Definitely a one to watch.


Photo Credit: Barry Schneier

First & Latest: 34 Years Later, Alison Brown Still Finds ‘Simple Pleasures’ on Banjo

In 1990, when banjo player Alison Brown released her debut album, Simple Pleasures, she had no idea where her career could or would lead. GRAMMY nominations, IBMA Awards, touring and performing with Alison Krauss, Michelle Shocked, the Indigo Girls, Steve Martin, and many more, founding a record label that would become a keystone in roots music – none of these impressive accomplishments were on her horizons, literal or hypothetical. Brown just wanted to play the banjo.

She had recently left her job in investment banking and wanted to give her musical career a legitimate go of it. Tasking herself with intentionally writing an album’s worth of original tunes, over the years from 1988 to the project’s release on Vanguard Records in ‘90, Brown pushed herself sonically, aesthetically, and compositionally. The result was demonstrably spectacular and effortlessly cutting-edge.

Simple Pleasures, which was produced by David “Dawg” Grisman and included Alison Krauss, Mike Marshall, Joe Craven, and more among its cast of collaborators, would help launch Brown’s now decades-long career as a bluegrass and roots music multi-hyphenate and business leader. Simple Pleasures broke the ground, fertilized it deeply, and helped cultivate one of the most innovative and forward-looking careers ever accomplished by a five-string picker.

Now, some 34 years after its original release, that debut album has been reissued – on vinyl and digital, with a handful of digital-exclusive bonus tracks recovered from a cassette tape of demos. The project is a delightful time capsule and a perfect representation of the vast and varied musical ground Brown has covered over the intervening years. She may not have known it then – she readily admits, as a picker in her twenties, she was just taking this “banjo thing” day by day – but Simple Pleasures would lay the groundwork for all of her many successes in the music industry and in bluegrass.

For a special edition of First & Latest, we spoke to Alison Brown by phone about her first release and her latest – which just so happen to be the same album, the original and the new reissue. It’s essential listening for bluegrass, banjo, and roots music fans.

Simple Pleasures was originally released in 1990, 34 years ago. I wanted to start by asking you about your frame of mind now versus then, about what’s changed in the interim. What’s changed regarding how you view yourself as a creator and as a banjo player? Looking back, in retrospect, do you recognize the person you were then? What do you remember about your frame of mind when you first put the album out?

Alison Brown: It was this time in my life during which I was writing this music and then trying to get a record deal; I had just left my investment banking job and had taken this bizarre leap of faith, which I didn’t necessarily get a lot of support for. My parents weren’t saying, “Hey, I think you should quit your investment banking job to play banjo.” [Laughs] It really was a leap of faith.

I just couldn’t stop thinking about the banjo. So, I gave myself the challenge of seeing if I could write an album’s worth of music that would hold up and just try to make a record. And then, in the course of working on that, I wrote these tunes and joined Alison Krauss & Union Station. By the time we recorded the tunes, I’d been in her band for a year. I was really at the beginning of what has become my career path since then, but when I was doing it, I didn’t really know how it would be received or if it would get any props or even if it would be any good. All the validation that came on the heels of releasing this, and then everything since then, has made me a much more confident musician than I was when I wrote the music and recorded the record.

Before this album, were you already writing tunes? Was that something that you always did? Or was this an intentional practice shift for you? Was making an album of your own tunes something you had always been working towards or was it part of that purposeful transition from investment banking to banjo?

That is a really good question. I had never written much music up until that point, but I’d always wanted to. Stuart Duncan and I did a record called Pre-sequel. That was like a teen record, but we had a couple original tunes, stuff like “Possum Gravy on Grandma’s Beard” and “The Great Lasagna Rebellion.” It was like teen stuff.

Anyways, I really had wanted to challenge myself to see if I could write some “real music” – that isn’t really quite the right word, but some more substantial tunes and some tunes that really took the instrument maybe to a new place, which took my voice to a new place. That was a lot of this exercise and those 12 tunes. I didn’t know if I could write them or even if they would be any good, but that was like the beginning of this kind of process of self discovery.

When you look at the credits list – Mike Marshall and David Grisman and Alison Krauss and more – you can see some of the fingerprints of you and your community, but it was a kind of a longer process of you writing and getting to the point of recording, right?

I’m trying to remember… yeah, probably from the time I started writing the tunes was maybe middle of 1988 and then we recorded them beginning in 1990. So yeah, there was definitely some time in there–

Was there some extrapolating in your head of, “What are these songs going to sound like? Who is going to play them?” What do you remember about deciding on how you were going to make the tunes and who was going to make them with you? Because I have a feeling that was just as important a part of the process as having the material to record.

Once the door opened for me to work with David Grisman, to produce the record and play on it, then I was pretty much like, “What do you think, David?” But I knew I wanted to have Alison on the record and I knew I wanted to have Mike, ‘cause I love his music no matter what he’s playing. I’m the head of the “Mike Marshall Plays Guitar Fan Club.” [Laughs] I love his guitar playing. And Mike was in the Bay Area, so that made perfect sense.

But then, in terms of bringing in the flute or percussion, I hadn’t really thought about those things. When I listen to this record now, it’s surprising really how much of a footprint the record created for what we’re doing now. ‘Cause we’ve got a rhythm section and flute in the band. In some ways, it feels like after all this time we’ve come full circle, at least back to the seed that record planted, sonically, for the music.

That’s so interesting, to be able to look back and trace that throughline, when at that point it may have felt like a one-off to have those instruments and those styles represented in the music. And now it’s present through lots of your work.

Yeah, it is really interesting. There’s obviously things that weren’t included [on Simple Pleasures]. We’ve had piano in the band pretty much since the beginning and we didn’t have piano on that record, obviously. But I don’t know, somehow that doesn’t seem as much of a template thing, the idea of percussion elements and certainly the flute. David really brought that – and the idea of incorporating cello. I’m not sure I was really thinking about those things. My thinking was probably more in the bluegrass-rooted box.

One of the things that’s definitely changed from the original Simple Pleasures to the reissue over those 30-some years is these bonus tracks that you’ve added – such a time capsule. I wanted to ask you about their… I want to say provenance, but I don’t mean to be that formal. Like, how did you hold onto the demos over time, did you always have them in your back pocket?

You know, as we were working on re-master I kept thinking I knew I had a cassette of the demos. I just dug around and I found it! That’s where the actual takes came from, but that between-take talking, to me, is my favorite part of the whole thing. Just hearing Mike and David and Richard Greene, who produced those demos, talking to each other – I just think that’s the coolest thing. That came off the 2-inch tapes that we had. But the 2-inch tapes, we didn’t have the final mixes of the demos. So, it just worked out that we dumped the cassette tapes into this computer and tried to sweeten it a little bit and that’s what we used.

Looking back, this was a big transition point for you with a GRAMMY nomination, winning IBMA Banjo Player of the Year as the first woman to win an instrumental award. Of course this would end up a seminal album and was a really important kickstart for your incredible career. But at that point, back in 1990, were you worried about it? What was your frame of mind as far as expectations for what this album could do and where it could go?

I’m sure that I had no expectations. [Laughs] It was just something that I really wanted to do myself. I wanted to see, could I write a bunch of music and would it stick together? And, can I get some great people to play on it? I was just happy that all those things came together and I got it on a label.

It was just so cool to be on Vanguard Records. The Welk Music Group had bought that catalog and they had just started signing artists. I was one of the first artists they signed to the Vanguard imprint. All that was enough, but then to get a GRAMMY nomination was completely a surprise. I didn’t expect that at all, or the IBMA recognition. That validation was huge, obviously, and it would be for anybody, but for me it was just so huge. I actually took my parents with me to Radio City Music hall for the GRAMMYs and that went a long way toward them accepting my career 180. [Laughs]

It seems like this was definitely proof of concept for, “I can do this banjo thing. I can make banjo records. I can do this as a career.”

And in retrospect, I completely agree. In the moment, none of those things [were certain]. That’s what they say, “Hindsight’s 20/20.” And that’s so true; when you’re in the moment, you just don’t know how it’s going to turn out. Then it turned out great! I feel so lucky every day that I get to play music or create music or help somebody else create music, all that is just such a gift. Because it was not a foregone conclusion, I could easily have gone back to investment banking or something else with my tail between my legs. I’m just so grateful that isn’t the case.

At this point in your career, people think of you as a multi-hyphenate, as somebody who runs a label, is so active in the industry, and picks a really mean banjo. But this project predated Compass Records by several years. Were you already planning that sort of multi-prong, multi-hyphenate approach then? Or do you think it would be a surprise to 1990 Simple Pleasures Alison that you are the multi-hyphenate you are now?

Yeah no, I did not know it was [in my future], I think I was really just taking it a step at a time. At that particular point in time, my goal was just to write tunes and play in Alison [Krauss’] band. Then, when I left her band, I was really at this juncture again. My parents kept saying, “We really think you’d enjoy going to law school!” I was on the edge of applying to Vanderbilt Law School when I got a call from Michelle Shocked looking for a band leader for her world tour in 1992.

So no, I definitely didn’t have the multi-hyphenate, as you put it, plot hatched at all yet. That’s really something that came during that time that I spent with Michelle and then Garry West, who was playing bass in the band [with her as well]. We connected on a personal level, on a business level, and we started talking about “the good life.” Like, how do you make a life out of music? That’s when we started envisioning the different spokes of the wheel, and one of them was a record label and one of them was playing banjo and touring. That 1990s Alison was really just taking in a day at a time.

There’s this quality that musicians talk about a lot, almost to trope-ish levels, of not liking listening to themselves, not liking going back and hearing their own musical ideas or their own creativity from the past. It can be cringey! When you hear your young adult voice on the banjo now, what’s your reaction? Do you bristle at it? Do you feel inspired by it or do you have a moment where you’re like, “I can’t believe that I played that or I did that”? You’ve been inhabiting these tunes to remix and re-master them, not just rubber stamping a reissue. What does that feel like, to be going back and forth between who you are now and who you were then?

I really thought it was going to be like a lot of cringey stuff, like listening to those tracks and thinking, “Oh god, why did I play that?” Instead, I had a completely different feeling, because I felt like I could hear and really remember both the joy of figuring out that I could do this thing and the uncertainty of, “I don’t know if it’s any good or if it’s going to connect with anybody at all.” I can hear both of those things, but at the end of the day, what I felt most was just wishing I could reach back in time and give myself a pat on the back [and say,] “It’s going to work out okay and you’re on the right path.”

Because I think that’s the thing, we’re all looking for our true path. Sometimes it’s really hard to see, and for me, it was definitely hard to see. I really thought that I would be like a respectable business person and instead – well, I hope I’m a respectable business person, but it’s certainly not what I expected to be! [Laughs] I really thought, banker, lawyer, doctor, that kind of thing.

Your portfolio as a banjo player, label head, and producer is so diverse. And I wondered if you feel that’s directly correlated to being a woman who plays the banjo, or if you think there’s something else that’s driven that or informed that? Because I firmly believe marginalized folks in roots music – really anyone who’s not a straight white man – we often have to have very diverse career paths just to make a living, to make ends meet.

One thing I do notice is that big opportunities that opened up for me early on, they were all created for me by other women. That’s really not lost on me – whether it was Alison Krauss or Michelle Shocked. It wasn’t a male band leaders inviting me in. I think that’s really significant and that’s one of the things that I think is interesting about the times we’re in now, the fact that there’s much more diversity – even though it’s not as much as we would like to see. But there are women peppered throughout the ecosystem of the bluegrass community. We’re really in a position to empower and bring up the next generation, where we weren’t so much before. That makes it a really exciting time. I know that’s something that I love to look for opportunities to do.

If I’m producing a record, I want to bring those other voices into the room and let’s raise the next generation. ‘Cause when you come out of investment banking, you can see how adept the guys are at bringing on the next generation of guys, but women in corporate situations just historically haven’t [had the same access]. There are many reasons, it’s not their shortcoming. I think it’s just the circumstances, but now it doesn’t have to be that way. I find that particularly exciting.

34 years later, these folks who played on Simple Pleasures are still part of your community and are collaborators of yours. Back then, were you thinking, “All right, these are my ride or dies! We’re going to go the distance together.” Or was it like, “I can’t believe I get to be in a room with these folks and I hope we can do it again”? How does it feel now to look back and have decades-long relationships with these folks that you made the album with and to have that community be such a present part of the music that you continue to make and the records that you put out?

It’s amazing to look back and to think about the fact that I’ve known Mike Marshall since, gosh, I think I was a teenager the first time I met Mike? To have 50-year-long relationships with some of these people, it’s an amazing thing and it’s such a gift. I think one of the best things about our community is that people can have careers that extend over decades and you can have friendships with people that extend over half a century or more. I’ve known Stuart Duncan since he was 10, so I’ve known him for half a century. It’s crazy and wonderful too. And it’s such an amazing aspect of our community.

I don’t know if it’s the same in other kinds of music, but I think the intergenerational aspect of bluegrass music and roots music just creates for some amazing lifelong friendships. I think it’s not uncommon for people to start when they’re 10 years old – or, Stuart started playing this music when he was six or seven. When I met him when he was 10, he was already a hotshot fiddle player. The fact that you can get into this music as such a youngster, keep playing it, and there’s room for you even when every hair on your head is gray, it’s just a great thing. I think in popular music the window is more narrow.

But in this music, people want to see you play your music whether you’re six or whatever age. How old was Bobby Osborne? He was 92! The record that I did with Bobby, Original, we was 86/87-years-old when we recorded that record. You wouldn’t see an 87-year-old pop artist probably making a record.


Ben Sollee’s Renewed ‘Long Haul’ Perspective on Earth, Life, and Music

Seven years have elapsed between Ben Sollee’s last studio release, his 2017 album with Kentucky Native, and his new one, Long Haul (arriving August 16). Much has happened in Sollee’s life since ‘17. His family has grown by two children. He worked on a number of soundtracks, even winning an Emmy Award in 2018 for his score on the ABC special, Base Ballet. The Kentucky born and based singer/songwriter/cellist, who has long been an advocate for environmental and other social causes, also helped launch a nonprofit named Canopy, which helps businesses in his home state positively impact people, the planet, and the future.

When COVID hit, it hit Sollee hard. “I was one of the early folks to get COVID in fall of 2020 and it stuck with me in a way that didn’t stick with other people.” During his prolonged recovery, he had to change how he ate, what he drank, how he slept, and how he exercised. “It turned into a journey of inward exploration and changing my external life. I really changed pretty much everything… It wasn’t until I started emerging from long haul [COVID], I was like, ‘Oh, I think I’ve got something to say about this.’”

While this album grew out of Sollee’s personal health crisis, it also was greatly affected by the death of his close friend and long-time collaborator, Jordon Ellis, who died by suicide in early 2023.

Always ready to blur genres, Sollee felt more free to expand his sonic palette on Long Haul, which includes a gospel-style choir, a Little Richard-inspired rock ‘n’ roll rave-up, West African rhythms, and Caribbean grooves. He purposely wanted to have lively, rhythmic melodies to balance deeply thoughtful lyrics.

“The same way,” he explained, “That Michael Jackson would have these big statements in the middle of these dance songs.” Sollee also recorded a special Dolby ATMOS Spatial Audio version for this album – a first for him – to underscore Long Haul’s immersive sound quality.

Part of what the title Long Haul refers to is your serious battle with long COVID and it also addresses life as being a long haul. How did the two interrelate for you, personally?

Ben Sollee: [COVID] definitely put me in relationship with my body in a way that I had never been before and once you start that relationship with your body, you realize just how interconnected everything is. I mean, we’re all on this long haul together… and I realized that maybe the most radical thing that I could do was to care for myself. That really shifted how I think of my live performances and really my purpose for being out on the road, [which] is to help people connect with themselves. Because once they connect with themselves, then they can have the capacity to be in relationship with nature, other people, animals, you name it. How I be in the world has shifted. It’s subtle from an external view, but internally it’s pretty profound.

How did this all affect your approach in making this album?

I realized that I had a very exploitative relationship with my creativity over the years, where it was just like: Here’s a project, just make stuff. And that was just really eye-opening.

I took a couple of different approaches in the making of this record. The passing of my friend and musical collaborator, Jordon, in the process of writing this record was really profound, because he was such a keystone to my creative process. It kind of forced me to think about how I was approaching music-making in the record without him.

So, I tried a couple different mantras, and one of them was “follow the resonance.” If it said something to me, I didn’t need to figure out why it said something to me, even if that is Polynesian flute playing or this sort of strange Tejano Caribbean groove – just follow it. In the past, I would kind of hedge; like I would hear something, I’d be really into that sound, but I wouldn’t feel like I could, for whatever reason. Like it’s not part of my cultural heritage. I would come up with a reason to be like, I shouldn’t make music with that sound or influence.

Another mantra was “show our fingerprints.” The way that we recorded the record – it was about hearing the hands and the strings and hearing the breath. I chose instruments that would really feature those human aspects of breath and touch. We incorporated woodwinds, which you can hear prominently on the first single, “Misty Miles.” We incorporated choirs in this record for the first time, because I really wanted that breath and sound. Much of the percussion is hand percussion. It’s a very tactile record… very high touch record.

You produced Long Haul. What was the recording process like?

It was a very intuitive, collective approach, and it meant that not only did the music turn out as a surprise to me and others, but it also meant that it was a very engaged, emotional journey. Adrienne Maree Brown [author of the book, Emergent Strategy] is really the inspiration for this – instead of having a singular artist’s vision, you really bring together a group of people in a facilitated way.

It made me maybe a little bit more brave and confident that wherever things went, we could execute that… I mean, musicians left the sessions crying, because they had such a good time and they felt seen and heard. And that, to me, means as much as the music that came out.

Did your experiences composing film soundtracks serve at all as an influence?

[Film work] also inspired me to explore Atmos. I really wanted this record to be an immersive experience, kind of like a sonic film. In keeping with that, there are a few songs that actually have sound design incorporated into them. It’s the first time I’ve done it in such an intentional and immersive way where we’ve got cars driving by with “Hawk and Crows.”

There is a real stylistic diversity to the sound of this album, like “Under The Spell” is one song with a funky dance groove to it.

[Laughs] I wasn’t trying to make a dance track. It started with that cello lick that you hear at the beginning. And it’s sort of this hypnotic West African loop of a lick that really began as kind of me trying to figure out some old-time banjo, like clawhammer music, on the cello.

The words are referencing this kind of duality… dealing with identity and self and how often we are under the influence of the stories that people tell of us. Every time I have this ambition, desire, and even just like the idea of me having something, it sets me down a path of being unsatisfied, which causes a lot of harm to other people and myself in the world. So, the words can go as deep as somebody wants to, but it’s also if people just want to release and have some sort of existential-like dance experience – then let’s go, let’s dance!

It touches on an evolution that I don’t expect anybody to notice in my music and career. My early records had a lot of direct social and political statements in the song. I realized that they were a little bit superficial and surface-y. They weren’t really getting it to the core of those issues. So, I’ve kind of moved into, I guess what I would call like a “post-activist” stance. My music has moved away from direct political commentary most of the time to more of a foundational, fundamental idea of togetherness, of connectedness.

“One More Day” stands out as a key song too.

I guess the original seed of that song emerged as I was beginning to travel again after Jordon had passed away – to places where he and I had traveled so many times. I started thinking about what would I have said had he called me in that moment of decision before he took his life? But the only thing that I would have really said to him is, “Listen, I hear you, I respect your decision, but what’s the rush? Like, if you’re going to do it, you’re going to do it, but you don’t have to do it right now. Just give it one more day, give it one more sunrise. Just get one last look.”

I think that’s what I would have said to him. And the song makes that case through different vignettes of our time together on the road. And, it does it over this Caribbean, Tejano groove that must have come from some jams that he and I did together. It must have. It just feels like a very Jordon groove. What I love about that is it has this real joyous, almost like early Police kind of vibe to it. There’s some really tough content in there and I just love the idea of people dancing at a festival – and just saying, “Give it one more day.”

The closing song, “When You Gonna Learn,” features a rousing gospel-style choir and addresses following your inner voice. It launches the listener out of the album and into the world in a very uplifting way.

I wanted to end with that message, because as a father I watch my four- and six-year-old who have yet to really settle into a sense of self or identity, and they are just so connected to their world and just basic truths about caring for things and protecting things and love and justice. And I think that it’s just more proof to me that there are things we know that get taught out of us. This song just is like: When are you going to learn that you already know?

You address a lot of tough issues on the album, but do so with a sense of humanism and spirited music that offer a hopeful way out of these challenging times.

I often reflect on that “Pale Blue Dot” image that Voyager took looking back at Earth and it’s just black and there’s just one little, tiny dot. And that dot really says it all, because it’s all there, as Carl Sagan says: every love, every heartbreak, every war, every church, it’s all on that one little dot.

So, we got to make it work here. And I think that’s the biggest challenge that we have right now. How do we make this work? I get that we’re going to make some big mistakes along the way. I sure have in my life. That’s where the grace comes in, but we got to make it work here. We don’t have another spot.


Photos courtesy of Big Hassle.

Tray Wellington’s ‘Detour To The Moon’ is Out of This World Bluegrass

On his 2022 album Black Banjo, Tray Wellington thwarted stereotypes and pushed the boundaries of what bluegrass music can be. On his new EP, Detour To The Moon, he picks up right where he left off, weaving in jazz, hip-hop, country, and more into his trailblazing banjo bangers.

The meshing of influences on the seven-song project serves as a segue between full-length records; the EP is the first of a planned conceptual series showcasing the picker’s sonic and personal evolution.

“I want to keep pushing myself and growing until I’m at my max potential, and I don’t feel like I’m anywhere close to reaching that yet,” Wellington tells BGS of the project’s concept. “So if we’re talking in terms of the universe, I want to get way past the moon, because we’ve already been there and because my influences are constantly evolving and I want to be able to reflect on all of it.”

Although he’s most proficient on banjo now, Wellington’s musical development began years prior on the guitar – until he stumbled upon Doc Watson’s music while browsing his grandfather’s record collection. By middle school, the Western North Carolina native had joined a mountain music club that traveled to local communities playing traditional bluegrass music. Eventually one of his teachers, Josh Church, introduced him to the banjo and he never looked back.

“I’d never heard him play banjo to that point, but he pulled it out that day and started playing ‘Salt Creek,’” Wellington recalls. “I was instantly hooked by its sound and fell in love. From there he taught me a song or two, leading me to beg my mom for a banjo over the summer before starting ninth grade.”

Since taking to the banjo Wellington has grown to be one of it’s most promising young pickers, most notably winning the International Bluegrass Music Association’s 2019 Momentum Award for Instrumentalist of the Year, graduating from East Tennessee State University’s Bluegrass, Old-Time and Roots Music Studies program, and helping to form New Dangerfield — a Black roots supergroup also comprised of vocalist/multi-instrumentalist Kaia Kater, bassist Nelson Williams, and fiddler/vocalist Jake Blount.

That promise shines bright throughout Detour To The Moon, which sees an equal mix of him creating his own instrumental soundscapes as well as taking other’s songs, like Duke Ellington’s “Caravan,” “John Hiatt’s “Lift Up Every Stone,” and Kid Cudi’s “Pursuit Of Happiness,” and making them entirely his own.

In particular, Wellington says that Cudi’s certified diamond hit, first released in 2009, was one that he had to record upon first hearing it in 2023, due to its message of drug abuse and escapism that he resonated with deeply.

“That, and witnessing the profoundly positive impact it had on others of lifting them out of the dark places they were once in, is what made me want to record it,” Wellington explains. “If a tune has that much power, it deserves to be re-recorded and spread to as many new audiences as possible.”

In addition to pushing boundaries with his music, Wellington also pushed them with his own creative abilities on the artwork for Detour To The Moon, which he made himself. The first-time occurrence is one that he was thrust into after a graphic designer he had commissioned back out of the project as a deadline for their work was fast approaching. Rather than hire someone new to complete the work or delay it (and risk pushing back the entire project as a whole), he began completing it on his own. Featuring Wellington standing stoically with his banjo on a cratered moon surface with a looming purple glow, the artwork is a display not only of his creativity, but the improvisation and ingenuity that also make him a top notch musician.

“It took me 30 hours to create,” Wellington says with a chuckle of making the artwork. “I had to imagine the concept and find reference pictures before sketching ideas and putting it all into Photoshop. It took a long time, but I’m proud of how it turned out and now I have this new skill I can continue to hone and potentially help other artists with as well.”

Aside from Wellington’s ingenuity coming out in the EP’s cover art and in its choice of songs, it’s also displayed in the players who joined him on the project. For the first time in his three studio albums Detour To The Moon includes drums courtesy of the Steep Canyon Rangers’ Michael Ashworth. It also features fellow Asheville mainstay Drew Matulich (The Grass Is Dead) on guitar. Pedal steel guitarist DaShawn Hickman, vocalist Wendy Hickman, and Kater were other contributors.

Those pivots came after Wellington went into the recording process, planning for the players joining him to be exclusively from his traveling band – bassist Katelynn Bohn, mandolinist/fiddler Josiah Nelson, and Nick Weitzenfeld. While it does include each of them on all or a portion of the project, it also blossomed into something bigger that celebrates not only Wellington’s sonic evolution, but the many ways that Black music of old still shares with that of the present.

Connecting those dots and pushing for more diversity within bluegrass and roots music have long been part of Wellington’s creative work. While he’s done more than his part to advance those efforts, he says it’s going to take much more to see representation where it matters most – the audience.

“I’ve seen a lot more Black and other people I didn’t usually see before picking up a banjo, fiddle, or mandolin and playing bluegrass music in the last five years, but in the grand scheme of things it’s still a very small number of us,” asserts Wellington. “It’s on the venues, labels, artists, fans – all of us – to get involved and push for change because at the end of the day nobody wants to go out to shows where they know they won’t feel comfortable at.”


Photo Credit: Heidi Holloway

BGS 5+5: The Down Hill Strugglers

Artist: The Down Hill Strugglers
Hometown: Brooklyn, New York
Latest Album: Old Juniper
Personal Nicknames (or rejected band names): We are sometimes mistakenly called the Down Home Stragglers.

Editor’s Note: Answers have been provided by band member Eli Smith.

What’s your favorite memory from being on stage?

Lots of great memories there. Being on stage at the Jalopy Theatre, the Brooklyn Folk Festival, or Washington Square Park Folk Festival with Walker, Jackson, and our dear bandmate, now gone, John Cohen would probably be my favorites.

It was also wonderful to play at the Library of Congress, in that hallowed hall. And the Oldtone Music Festival is an important one for us.

What’s the most difficult creative transformation you’ve ever undertaken?

It’s been interesting running the Brooklyn Folk Festival all these years, and now running the Jalopy Theatre’s record label, Jalopy Records, while also maintaining a musical life with the Down Hill Strugglers and solo, under my own name. Many musicians are also producers, as I am. It can be a challenge to switch back and forth between those mindsets, but it is satisfying to see both types of work progress. Finally, it’s all about sharing good music, however you can.

Genre is dead – long live genre! – but how would you describe the genres and styles your music inhabits?

We are working in the field of traditional music from the United States, with an ear also turned to traditional music from all over the world. One song I wrote, that’s on our new album, was inspired by a 78rpm record from Central Asia re-issued on the Secret Museum of Mankind series. It had a sound that stuck in my head and made sense to me. We changed it around until it became our own song in our own style. That seems natural.

The Down Hill Strugglers is an old-time string band. However, old-time music is a catch all for historic American folk music. It encompasses fiddle music, banjo tunes, guitar picking, songs & ballads, blues, religious music, work songs, and more; diverse music ministering to different parts of life.

What is a genre, album, artist, musician, or song that you adore that would surprise people?

Longmont Potion Castle has remained popular with the Down Hill Strugglers, driving around on tour, for years. That’s some funny stuff…

If you didn’t work in music, what would you do instead?

I might drive a cab, or something like that. I’d have great music playing in the cab and deck the vehicle out my own way. It’d be nice. Also, I’d do more organizing work as a leftwing activist. And I used to be a clerk in record stores. The best job I had was at the Arhoolie store, Down Home Music, in El Cerrito, California.


Photo Credit: Fernando Armenghol

35th Annual IBMA Bluegrass Music Awards Nominations Announced

Earlier today, the International Bluegrass Music Association announced their nominees, recipients, and inductees to be honored at the 35th Annual Bluegrass Music Awards show to be held on September 26 in Raleigh, North Carolina. The nominations and honorees were revealed at a radio broadcast at SiriusXM in downtown Nashville, Tennessee that featured live performances by nominees Missy Raines & Allegheny and Authentic Unlimited.

Billy Strings, Sister Sadie, Authentic Unlimited, and Molly Tuttle & Golden Highway lead the nominations. Also announced during the event were this year’s Bluegrass Music Hall of Fame inductees and Distinguished Achievement Awards Recipients. Entering the Hall of Fame – the highest honor awarded by IBMA and its membership – are Jerry Douglas, Katy Daley, and Alan Munde.

Find the full list of nominees, inductees, and recipients below and make plans now to attend the IBMA Bluegrass Music Awards on Thursday, September 26, at the Martin Marietta Center for the Performing Arts in Raleigh, North Carolina during IBMA’s headline event of the year, their World of Bluegrass business conference and Bluegrass Live! festival.

ENTERTAINER OF THE YEAR
Billy Strings
Molly Tuttle & Golden Highway
Del McCoury Band
Sister Sadie
The Po’ Ramblin’ Boys

VOCAL GROUP OF THE YEAR
Authentic Unlimited
Sister Sadie
Blue Highway
Del McCoury Band
Molly Tuttle & Golden Highway

INSTRUMENTAL GROUP OF THE YEAR
Billy Strings
Michael Cleveland & Flamekeeper
Travelin’ McCourys
East Nash Grass
Molly Tuttle & Golden Highway

SONG OF THE YEAR
“Fall in Tennessee” – Authentic Unlimited
Songwriters: John Meador/Bob Minner
Producer: Authentic Unlimited
Label: Billy Blue Records

“Willow” – Sister Sadie
Songwriter: Ashley McBryde
Producer: Sister Sadie
Label: Mountain Home

“Too Lonely, Way Too Long” – Rick Faris with Del McCoury
Songwriter: Rick Faris
Producer: Stephen Mougin
Label: Dark Shadow Recording

“Forever Young” – Daniel Grindstaff with Paul Brewster & Dolly Parton
Songwriters: Jim Cregan/Kevin Savigar/Bob Dylan/Rod Stewart
Producer: Daniel Grindstaff
Label: Bonfire Music Group

“Kentucky Gold” – Dale Ann Bradley with Sam Bush
Songwriters: Wayne Carson/Ronnie Reno
Producer: Dale Ann Bradley
Label: Pinecastle

ALBUM OF THE YEAR
City of Gold – Molly Tuttle & Golden Highway
Producers: Jerry Douglas/Molly Tuttle
Label: Nonesuch

Last Chance to Win – East Nash Grass
Producer: East Nash Grass
Label: Mountain Fever

Jubilation – Appalachian Road Show
Producer: Appalachian Road Show
Label: Billy Blue Records

No Fear – Sister Sadie
Producer: Sister Sadie
Label: Mountain Home

So Much for Forever – Authentic Unlimited
Producer: Authentic Unlimited
Label: Billy Blue Records

GOSPEL RECORDING OF THE YEAR
“When I Get There” – Russell Moore & IIIrd Tyme Out
Songwriter: Michael Feagan
Producer: Russell Moore & IIIrd Tyme Out
Label: Independent

“Thank You Lord for Grace” – Authentic Unlimited
Songwriter: Jerry Cole
Producer: Authentic Unlimited
Label: Billy Blue Records

“Just Beyond” – Barry Abernathy with John Meador, Tim Raybon, Bradley Walker
Songwriters: Rick Lang/Mike Richards/Windi Robinson
Producer: Jerry Salley
Label: Billy Blue Records

“God Already Has” – Dale Ann Bradley
Songwriter: Mark “Brink” Brinkman/David Stewart
Producer: Dale Ann Bradley
Label: Pinecastle

“Memories of Home” – Authentic Unlimited
Songwriter: Jerry Cole
Producer: Authentic Unlimited
Label: Billy Blue Records

INSTRUMENTAL RECORDING OF THE YEAR
“Rhapsody in Blue(grass)” – Béla Fleck
Songwriter: George Gershwin arr. Ferde Grofé/Béla Fleck
Producer: Béla Fleck
Label: Béla Fleck Productions/Thirty Tigers

“Knee Deep in Bluegrass” – Ashby Frank
Songwriter: Terry Baucom
Producer: Ashby Frank
Label: Mountain Home

“Panhandle Country” – Missy Raines & Allegheny
Songwriter: Bill Monroe
Producer: Alison Brown
Label: Compass Records

“Lloyd’s of Lubbock” – Alan Munde
Songwriter: Alan Munde
Producer: Billy Bright
Label: Patuxent

“Behind the 8 Ball” – Andy Leftwich
Songwriter: Andy Leftwich
Producer: Andy Leftwich
Label: Mountain Home

NEW ARTIST OF THE YEAR
East Nash Grass
Bronwyn Keith-Hynes
AJ Lee & Blue Summit
Wyatt Ellis
The Kody Norris Show

COLLABORATIVE RECORDING OF THE YEAR
“Brown’s Ferry Blues” – Tony Trischka featuring Billy Strings
Songwriters: Alton Delmore/Rabon Delmore
Producer: Béla Fleck
Label: Down the Road

“Fall in Tennessee” – Authentic Unlimited with Jerry Douglas
Songwriters: John Meador/Bob Minner
Producer: Authentic Unlimited
Label: Billy Blue Records

“Forever Young” – Daniel Grindstaff with Paul Brewster, Dolly Parton
Songwriters: Jim Cregan/Kevin Savigar/Bob Dylan/Rod Stewart
Producer: Daniel Grindstaff
Label: Bonfire Music Group

“Bluegrass Radio” – Alison Brown and Steve Martin
Songwriters: Steve Martin/Alison Brown
Producers: Alison Brown/Garry West
Label: Compass Records

“Too Old to Die Young” – Bobby Osborne and CJ Lewandowski
Songwriters: Scott Dooley/John Hadley/Kevin Welch
Producer: CJ Lewandowski
Label: Turnberry Records

MALE VOCALIST OF THE YEAR
Dan Tyminski
Greg Blake
Del McCoury
Danny Paisley
Russell Moore

FEMALE VOCALIST OF THE YEAR
Molly Tuttle
Jaelee Roberts
Dale Ann Bradley
AJ Lee
Rhonda Vincent

BANJO PLAYER OF THE YEAR
Kristin Scott Benson
Gena Britt
Alison Brown
Béla Fleck
Rob McCoury

BASS PLAYER OF THE YEAR
Missy Raines
Mike Bub
Vickie Vaughn
Todd Phillips
Mark Schatz

FIDDLE PLAYER OF THE YEAR
Jason Carter
Bronwyn Keith-Hynes
Michael Cleveland
Stuart Duncan
Deanie Richardson

RESOPHONIC GUITAR PLAYER OF THE YEAR
Justin Moses
Rob Ickes
Jerry Douglas
Andy Hall
Gaven Largent

GUITAR PLAYER OF THE YEAR
Billy Strings
Molly Tuttle
Trey Hensley
Bryan Sutton
Cody Kilby

MANDOLIN PLAYER OF THE YEAR
Sierra Hull
Sam Bush
Ronnie McCoury
Jesse Brock
Alan Bibey

MUSIC VIDEO OF THE YEAR
“Willow” – Sister Sadie
Label: Mountain Home

“Fall in Tennessee” – Authentic Unlimited
Label: Billy Blue Records

“The City of New Orleans” – Rhonda Vincent & The Rage
Label: Upper Management Music

“I Call Her Sunshine” – The Kody Norris Show
Label: Rebel Records

“Alberta Bound” – Special Consensus with Ray Legere, John Reischman, Patrick Sauber, Trisha Gagnon, Pharis & Jason Romero, and Claire Lynch
Label: Compass Records

BLUEGRASS MUSIC HALL OF FAME INDUCTEES
Alan Munde
Jerry Douglas
Katy Daley

DISTINGUISHED ACHIEVEMENT AWARD RECIPIENTS
Cindy Baucom
Laurie Lewis
Richard Hurst
ArtistWorks
Bloomin’ Bluegrass Festival


Photo Credit: Billy Strings by Jesse Faatz; Sister Sadie by Eric Ahlgrim.

Artist of the Month: Our Tony Trischka Discography Deep Dive

Banjo master Tony Trischka is a bluegrass and roots music renaissance man whose career goes back nearly 60 years, to his early days with his first group, the Down City Ramblers. He’s been making recordings for almost as long, appearing on-record for the first time on Country Cooking’s 1971 debut for the fabled Rounder Records label.

Given the width and breadth of Trischka’s career and sprawling discography, summarizing the man’s recorded legacy is not just a tall order, but a mountainous one. Nevertheless, we’ve made the attempt. Here are a dozen recordings that give a sense of Trischka’s many artistic sides as collaborator, innovator, teacher, keeper of the flame, and all-around musical good spirit.

“Kentucky Bullfight” – Country Cooking (1974)

Trischka was one of two banjo players in this collegiate ensemble. The other was future Hot Rize member Pete Wernick, who spent some time talking up his bandmate to Rounder Records co-founder Ken Irwin. “I was writing a bunch of tunes, and Pete told Ken, ‘Tony should do a solo album,’” Trischka remembered. “Ken said, ‘Sure, go ahead.’”

Irwin cites “Kentucky Bullfight” as the Country Cooking song that convinced him Trischka would be worth signing as a solo act, too.

“China Grove” – Tony Trischka (1974)

Trischka hails from the Northern environs of Syracuse, New York, and it was fairly common for Yankee banjo players of his era to indulge some unusual tangents. “My first album was, comparatively speaking, a little on the bizarre side,” Trischka himself admits. That’s certainly the case for this instrumental from his 1974 solo debut, Bluegrass Light. “China Grove” has East Asian accents throughout and even a saxophone solo from his Country Cooking bandmate, Andy Statman.

“Roll in My Sweet Baby’s Arms” – Tony Trischka (1976)

It seems like a rite of passage that everybody has to put their own stamp on the venerable Flatt & Scruggs bluegrass classic, “Roll in My Sweet Baby’s Arms.” That goes for Trischka on his 1976 album, Heartlands, but few other artists would have the imaginative audacity to kick it off with a drum solo (plus more saxophone).

“Don’t Let Your Deal Go Down” – Tony Trischka (1978)

Another piece of classic repertoire from the wayback machine, “Don’t Let Your Deal Go Down” is the song that made bluegrass forerunner Charlie Poole a star in 1925. Trischka cut it on 1978’s Banjoland in an ambitious all-star arrangement alongside fellow banjo players Bill Keith and Béla Fleck. Also present are resonator guitarist Jerry Douglas, mandolinist Buck White, and guitarist Tony Rice, who adds a definitive vocal.

“They’ll Never Keep Us Down” – Hazel Dickens (1981)

Formerly half of the pioneering female duo Hazel & Alice (with Alice Gerrard), the late great Hazel Dickens was one of Trischka’s best longtime collaborators. His elegant banjo and her emotionally raw voice were a great match on many songs, among them this classic from Dickens’ 1981 album, Hard Hitting Songs For Hard Hit People.

“Bill Cheatham” – Béla Fleck, Bill Keith, and Tony Trischka (1981)

In which three of the foremost roots music banjo virtuosos of the 20th century mesh with tasteful seamlessness while deftly keeping out of each other’s way. From 1981’s Fiddle Tunes for Banjo, this was one of the album’s three tunes that featured Trischka, Fleck, and Keith all playing together.

“Country Death Song” – Violent Femmes (1984)

From Milwaukee, this folk-punk trio puts a gothic spin on folk music. To that end, they often enlist unexpected collaborators to do cameo appearances, adding just-right punctuation. Here is one of the Femmes’ early examples, featuring Trischka’s banjo on their 1984 second album, Hallowed Ground. Nearly two decades later, the Femmes would return the favor by appearing on “Down in the Cider House,” a track on Trischka’s World Turning album.

 “New York Chimes” – Tony Trischka (1985) 

Trischka has always had a way with clever puns, “New York Chimes” among them. From 1985’s Béla Fleck-produced Hill Country album, “New York Chimes” is also a fine example of Trischka’s higher-gear fast playing. And the band is, of course, spectacular – Jerry Douglas, Tony Rice, Sam Bush.

“Old Joe Clark” – Tony Trischka (1992)

As a dedicated keeper of the flame and teacher/mentor, Trischka has always been up for putting the music into unusual places. One of the most unusual was a 1992 episode of the children’s cartoon, “Where in the World is Carmen Sandiego?,” on which Trischka wandered on camera playing the 19th-century fiddle tune “Old Joe Clark” during a game-show segment.

“World Turning” – Tony Trischka (1993)

Among Trischka’s many virtues as a player, one of the best is that he knows how to back up great singers. And here is a classic example from Trischka’s wildly eclectic 1993 album, World Turning. The title track is a cover of the 1975 Fleetwood Mac song, sung by Dudley Connell and Alison Krauss with Trischka adding just-right banjo flair.

“Shifting Sands of Time” – The Wayfaring Strangers (2001)

Another of Trischka’s far-flung, multi-hyphenate genre experiments is his 2001 album, Shifting Sands of Time, with a wide-ranging guest list that goes from bluegrass patriarch Ralph Stanley to ’90s pop star Tracy Bonham. The title track is at least as worldly as anything his longtime mate Béla Fleck ever put out.

“Brown’s Ferry Blues” – Tony Trischka (2024)

We close with another of Trischka’s all-star collaborations, the opening track from this year’s Earl Scruggs tribute album Earl Jam. “Brown’s Ferry Blues” kicks off with very choice guitar and vocals from modern-day superstar Billy Strings, and Trischka, Fleck, Bush, and fiddler Michael Cleveland are all right there with him.

(Editor’s Note: Want more? Continue your Tony Trischka Artist of the Month exploration here.)


David Menconi’s latest book, “Oh, Didn’t They Ramble: Rounder Records and the Transformation of American Roots Music,” was published in 2023 by University of North Carolina Press.

Photo Credit: Zoe Trischka

Artist of the Month: Tony Trischka

(Editor’s Note: Find our Essential Tony Trischka Playlist below.)

Banjoist Tony Trischka is a brilliant creator, an entertainer, and educator who makes his own time. He’s always on the run, trying new things and yet also always ready to stop and have a friendly chat and a catch up. His musical life includes teaching, performing, and recording as well as studying music history. And, at a very young 75, he’s always up for an impromptu jam.

In 1976, when he was 28, Oak Publications published his Melodic Banjo, an instruction book featuring his transcription tablatures of pieces by and introductions to the top players of this new style of bluegrass banjo in which he was already recognized as a virtuoso. The book became a modern bluegrass banjo classic and was later published in new editions by Hal Leonard.

When Rounder reissued Tony’s first two albums as Tony Trischka the Early Years, Berklee’s Matt Glaser wrote:

Rarely, perhaps three or four times a century, some music will be created that is a pure explosive expression of life energy and uncontaminated joy. The music on this CD is, in my humble opinion, exactly that. … I put Tony’s early music in the same category as the best of Charles Mingus, Cecil Taylor, Scotty Stoneman, and Wagner, mad and magnificent. … It’s some of the most unjustly neglected of all popular music masterpieces.

Tony’s passion about bluegrass banjo history came to the fore in 1988 when he co-edited “the most comprehensive banjo book ever written,” Masters of the 5-String Banjo, with Pete Wernick, his partner in the early ‘70s band Country Cooking.

There’s not enough room here to write about Tony’s full career, but it’s important to know that in addition to performing on the banjo doing everything from straight-ahead bluegrass to rock, avant garde, and theater, he’s also a band leader, producer, teacher and historian. A Grammy nominee and winner of the IBMA’s 2007 Banjo Player of the Year award, he now teaches an online banjo course for ArtistWorks, and continues to appreciate the pleasures and challenges of jamming – the subject of his latest album, Earl Jam, which was released June 7 on Down The Road Records.

I met Tony in 1986 in New York where I was giving a lecture to promote my new book, Bluegrass: A History. We got together afterward to explore our shared interest in bluegrass banjo. Since then, we’ve worked together on several projects, the latest being Earl Jam.

In November 1990, we reconnected at the Tennessee Banjo Institute. He took me to hear Institute faculty member Carroll Best, a North Carolinian who’d been playing melodic banjo since the ’50s. We ended up together at Best’s campsite. In 1992, Banjo Newsletter published our interview of him along with Tony’s transcription of his work.

Trischka’s 1993 album, World Turning, reflected his eclectic experiences in taking the banjo to the world. Bob Carlin called it “his bid to move the instrument back into the mainstream.” Beginning with an African tune, he explored the banjo in a variety of genres – minstrel, classical, old-time, ragtime, new acoustic, and rock, along with his own brand of bluegrass.

In 2001, Tony and I reconnected at Banjo Camp North in Massachusetts. In addition to its concerts and workshops featuring big-name instructors like Tony, Bill Keith, Pete Wernick, Tony Ellis, and Bill Evans, there was free time for informal music-making. Tony and I spent a pleasant evening jamming together.

For his 2007 album, Double Banjo Bluegrass Spectacular, Trischka recorded duets with 10 banjo pickers, with backing by top-flight bluegrass instrumentalists. These recordings have taken on new meaning now that some of his musical partners on this award-winning production – Earl Scruggs, Kenny Ingram, Bill Emerson, and Tony Rice – are no longer with us. The album introduced a generation of young musicians, showing the remarkable depth of Tony’s musical connections.

Tony’s brand new Down The Road album, Earl Jam: A Tribute to Earl Scruggs, reflects his longstanding interest in bluegrass banjo’s late founder. The album began during the pandemic, when Banjo Newsletter columnist, Bob Piekiel, author of “Earl’s Way” and a Scruggs family friend, sent Tony a thumb drive containing two hundred songs and tunes recorded at jams with Earl Scruggs and John Hartford during the ’80s and ’90s.

Tony and Piekiel had been working on the “tabs” – tablatures – for a new Scruggs banjo book. Since the early 1970s, bluegrass banjo tabs have been key musical manuscripts. None are more important than those of Scruggs, whose iconic statements – the ones he recorded – were published by Scruggs himself in tabular form in 1968. Many banjo pickers learned “Foggy Mountain Breakdown” and other familiar favorites from Scruggs’ tabs.

Like any written music, tablatures are scores meant to describe how music is created on an instrument, while simultaneously prescribing how it is to be reproduced. Tony made tabs of Earl’s jam breaks so that he could recreate them. Jamming with Hartford, Scruggs played familiar pieces he’d never before recorded or performed in public. On that thumb drive, Tony found Scruggs’ impromptu banjo statements as interesting and entertaining as the old familiar recorded and transcribed ones from his commercial appearances.

Change and innovation are part of the ambiance at jam sessions. Playing an old tune or song in a new way is a sure route to pleasant interaction in these friendly musical conversations. Here, ideas are expressed, tested, embraced. Participants play for their own delectation and to pique the interests of the other jammers.

It’s not easy for those of us who enjoy hearing commercially produced Nashville music to know what goes on informally and privately in that town’s local music scenes. Beyond the bars, stages, and studios, away from the producers, who jams with whom? In 1998 when Tony interviewed the late Bobby Thompson, melodic banjo pioneer and Nashville studio A-lister, he got Bobby’s answer to that question:

Scruggs, he’s real nice. Me and him would get together and play a lot. Lately I do him and John Hartford and bunch of them come over here a lot.

In his notes to Earl’s 1972 album, I Saw the Light with Some Help from My Friends (Columbia KC 31354), Bill Williams wrote about star-packed jams at the Scruggs home, calling it “a gathering place, a watershed of talent, a place to be oneself,” adding that “while the industry has known many outstanding jam sessions, there are none quite like these.” By that time, jams had been going on at the Scruggs house for a long time.

A number of the old Flatt & Scruggs songbooks published snapshots from ’60s jam sessions at the Scruggs home. And just as some people took snapshots at such sessions, others made recordings. John Hartford had recorded his jams with Earl and given Piekiel a copy because he worried that if his house burned down all those jam recordings would be lost.

Nashville pros like Thompson and Hartford – whose success as a singer-songwriter (“Gentle On my Mind”) underwrote a unique career – would, as Thompson said, “get together and play a lot” with Scruggs. Hartford, a Scruggs fan from an early age, played the fiddle while listening with pleasure to Scruggs’ banjo statements, and began bringing a tape recorder along.

Earl and John had played what they knew, taking pleasure in attacking old favorites in new ways. After learning and transcribing Earl’s banjo jam breaks, Tony put together a band to showcase them in a show at in the New York club Joe’s Pub. What people heard was first-class bluegrass musicians along with Tony’s musical recreation of Scruggs performing an eclectic repertoire – pre-war and post-war country classics, traditional tunes, rock, bluegrass, folk and more.

On Earl Jam, which grew out of Tony’s showcase band, we hear leading contemporary artists, including Sam Bush, Michael Cleveland, Dudley Connell, Michael Daves, Jerry Douglas, Sierra Ferrell, Béla Fleck, The Gibson Brothers, Vince Gill, Brittany Haas, Del McCoury, Bruce Molsky, Billy Strings, and Molly Tuttle, in new musical conversations with Tony Trischka providing the “banjer” voice of Earl Scruggs.

Here, today’s artists each perform with their own contemporary voice while Tony, consummate and experienced stage actor that he is, takes center stage in the role of Scruggs-at-a-jam. He’s a musical equivalent of actor Hal Holbrook, who brought the voice of a famous American author to millions in his one-man show “Mark Twain Tonight.”

A good example of the music on Earl Jam is “Brown’s Ferry Blues,” the album’s first single. It opens with a solo guitar break by Billy Strings during which rhythm instruments: mandolin (Sam Bush) and bass (Mark Schatz) come up behind. Then Trischka introduces one of Earl’s jam breaks, after which Strings sings the first of six verses.

After each verse, we hear an instrumental solo. First comes Michael Cleveland, who throws in some licks associated with Foggy Mountain Boys fiddler Benny Martin. Next is Bush playing his usual great, hot stuff.

After verse 3, Tony plays not one but two more Scruggs jam breaks, each quite different from the other. After verse 4, producer and banjoist Béla Fleck contributes a statement in his unique style. Following the next verse there’s a blazing guitar break from Strings, who then sings a newly composed verse that names everyone at this live session, after which the track closes with all five instruments going full-bore as if at a jam – instruments like voices at a cocktail party.

Tony’s newfound conversations demonstrate Earl’s economy and genius, and his ability to inject feeling – humor, soul, hot, cool – in unexpected places. Scruggs’ musical vision is an education and a pleasure. We’re grateful to Tony for capturing it, preserving and showcasing it.

This truly is a unique album. Each track combines the contexts of bluegrass and theater. We hear bluegrass and old-time music’s standard verses and instrumental breaks. They are mixed so that we can visualize each musician stepping up to the mic to sing or pick. And then the curtains open and Trischka appears spotlighted in a cameo closeup delivering lines – breaks – that Earl spoke at the end of the century, when he was in his 70s.

It’s ironic that tabs have crystallized an aural model of Earl Scruggs’s banjo playing based largely on his ’40s and ’50s work with Monroe and Flatt. That music became the model for classic bluegrass. It still sounds great today. But by the ’60s, Earl had moved on. As Tommy Goldsmith (Earl Scruggs, p. 120-123) points out, an informal backstage jam in New York with saxophone virtuoso King Curtis convinced him that he could take his banjo into other genres like rock.

As soon as he and Flatt parted ways in 1969, Earl joined his sons to form the Earl Scruggs Revue. In the following decades he played with them as well as a variety of folk, rock, and pop acts, fitting his banjo into many new contexts. By the times of his jams with Hartford, foremost in Scruggs’ mind were the then-recent years of touring with the Revue and trying new stuff.

In 1983, L.A. producer (Byrds, Flying Burrito Bros.) Jim Dickson told me why he came to like bluegrass: “It was part formal and part improvisational breaks, the same kind of structure jazz had.” (Bluegrass: A History, p. 190) Tony’s cameos highlight the improvisational genius that kept Earl’s music fresh and inspired a generation.

On Earl Jam, Trischka explores Scruggs’s genius in various ways. Several individual song arrangements have modulations (as in “Dooley” and “Casey Jones”) that show how Earl was able to recast his melodic ideas in different keys and tunings. Tracks like “Liza Jane,” “Lady Madonna,” and “Brown’s Ferry Blues” close by moving beyond solo breaks into riff trade-offs to portray the playful conversation that is the essence of jamming.

Tony’s sense of history is reflected in his repertoire choices – reflecting rich heritage and continuing experimentation. Like a painter he has blended, collaged, borrowed, and adapted widely from past art. The result is a series of vignettes building on the shared creativity of today’s most gifted singers and players while also embracing Earl’s many paths.

I visualize these tracks as tangible works of art like we might see in a museum or gallery – from antique quilts to abstract modernist paintings. BGS’s Artist of the Month, Tony Trischka, has created a veritable aural exhibition.


Neil V. Rosenberg is an author, scholar, historian, banjo player, Bluegrass Music Hall of Fame inductee, and co-chair of the IBMA Foundation’s Arnold Shultz Fund. He also authored the album liner notes for Earl Jam. Check out Neil’s regular BGS column, Bluegrass Memoirs, here.

Photo Credit: Greg Heisler

WATCH: Steven Moore & Jed Clark, “New Camptown Races”

Artist: Steven Moore & Jed Clark
Hometown: Jed Clark lives in Nashville, Tennessee, originally from Searcy, Arkansas; Steven Moore lives in Saint Clairsville, Ohio, originally from Bethesda, Ohio.
Song: “New Camptown Races” (by Frank Wakefield)
Release Date: June 26, 2024 (video)

In Their Words: “We are very excited to share our music video of ‘New Camptown Races,’ a tune by the late Frank Wakefield (June 26, 1934 – April 26, 2024) that has become a bluegrass standard. The idea for this video began at SPBGMA 2023, when we jammed to ‘New Camptown Races’ with both of us playing it in B-flat without using capos. We laughed and agreed that we needed to record it and maybe do a video shoot of it someday. It wasn’t until a year later at SPBGMA 2024, when we met up again, that we really solidified plans to make the video happen. Our hopes were to record the video and put it out on June 26, 2024 in honor of Frank’s 90th birthday. Unfortunately, the world lost Frank two months before he turned 90, but we decided to still aim to put out the video on what would have been Frank’s 90th birthday, in his memory.

“Frank’s prowess on mandolin, evident by his years performing with bluegrass legends like Red Allen and The Kentuckians, Jimmy Martin, the Stanley Brothers, and Don Reno, is often not discussed nearly as much as his personality. Frank was known for having an off-kilter approach to everything, from how he talked to how he approached the mandolin. Stories about Frank spray painting his mandolin red (an irreplaceable 1923 Lloyd Loar signed Gibson F-5) as well as baking that very mandolin in an oven in an attempt to enhance its tone are just a couple examples of his unconventional character. Our attempt to play this tune in B-flat without capos on guitar and banjo is a bit unconventional as well, and we hope that Frank would have liked it. Thanks, Frank, for the music, the stories, and this great tune!” – Steven Moore


Video, Audio, and Video Still Credits: Daniel Kelley and Bethany Kelley of Octopus Garden Studios.

Two Women on the Cutting Edge of Bluegrass’s Future

At whatever level you may be plugged into the online bluegrass scene, you have surely heard, seen, or scrolled into content by Bronwyn Keith-Hynes and Brenna MacMillan. These two young, talented pickers are part of a vibrant and blossoming community of traditional musicians and folk artists that includes folks like Cristina Vane, Victor Furtado, Hilary Klug, Wyatt Ellis, and many more.

What makes these creators stand apart, especially Keith-Hynes and MacMillan, is that they aren’t just shoehorning social media into their art-making and creative processes to move up Music City ladders and check abstract music industry boxes. Instead, they’ve intentionally demonstrated how powerful, engaging, and charming content can be when it’s made with art, creativity, tradition, and joyful, cooperative generation as its focal points. Instead of bending over backward to construct virality and lean into transient socials trends, they let their talent, their songs, and their communities do all the talking.

In May, Keith-Hynes released her second solo album, I Built a World, her first project to center songs and her recently-developed, impressive vocals. Drawing on musicians and pickers from her immediate circle and her main gig – Molly Tuttle & Golden Highway – as well as tapping notable country stars and bluegrass legends, the project finds Keith-Hynes at her most confident and unbothered. This is a fiddler-singer-front woman who has found her voice – literally, through work, practice, and vocal lessons as well as figuratively, not satisfied to craft a career on bowing the fiddle alone.

@bronwynmusic Somehow Tonight [Earl Scruggs] SPBGMA stairwell jam!!! Our favorite acoustics for sweet harmonies 😇 🎻: Bronwyn Keith-Hynes 🪕: Brenna @Brenna MacMillan 🎸: Danielle Yother #spgbma #bluegrass #indoor #festival #nashville #harmonies #womeninmusic #banjo #guitar #fiddle #fridaynights #weekend #fyp #stairwellsinging #explore #foryou #bluegrasstiktok ♬ original sound – Bronwyn Keith-Hynes

Later this year, MacMillan will release her debut solo album. Its lead single, “What’s to Come,” features Ronnie McCoury and is indeed a harbinger for the superb album to follow. This project, which highlights MacMillan’s prolific songwriting and features her musical community fleshing out the band, is built directly upon the successes she, Keith-Hynes, and others have found on the internet. Eschewing labels, management, or traditional roll outs, MacMillan will release the project herself, with funds raised on GoFundMe, bringing the music directly to her consumers on her own website and socials channels without “middle men.”

So, not only are MacMillan and Keith-Hynes innovating on ideas around what it means to be a side person, a career picker, and multi-hyphenate, professional traditional musicians, they’re taking all of their expertise as online brands and businesswomen to find success for themselves, on their own terms. They’re focusing on what matters, centering their communities, and making incredible, superlative music at the same time.

BGS connected with MacMillan and Keith-Hynes together via video chat to talk about their unique approaches to making albums, content, and music, while highlighting the deep and tight-knit “bluegrass influencer” circle they’ve each helped create since moving to Nashville and putting their all into bluegrass.

I wanted to start by talking about community and musical community – one of the reasons why I wanted to have you both in conversation with each other is how you each rely on, draw from, and center your musical communities in what you create. It may look like these are solo projects that you’re making, but they’re clearly not solitary projects – and they don’t really feel like vanity projects, either. from the outside looking in either. It really feels you’re making music with other people so you can make music with other people. Could you talk about your work, your solo albums, and working in your communities?

Bronwyn Keith-Hynes: Yeah, I think first and foremost, me and Brenna are good friends and we just ended up being drawn together. We both moved to Nashville around the same time and ended up doing a lot of things together and had a lot of similar interests. That’s cool to find. I haven’t found that many women who have my same interests until I moved to Nashville and then all of a sudden I felt like there was a whole bunch. It’s been really awesome to find that.

First of all, I’m just such a fan of so many people, and I wouldn’t want to make music any other way. My project was based around songs from my community, which was really special to me. It was like a little nerve wracking reaching out to friends and people I respected to be like, “Do you have a song that you’re not going to record that I could record?” But, thankfully, a lot of people did – including Brenna – and I ended up recording one of her songs. And, she sang on it and it was awesome!

I feel like I couldn’t do it alone. I know my strengths and then I know other people’s strengths and I want to make sure we’re all [drawing on our strenghts]. I don’t know if singing is my strength, but it’s something I feel passionate about and feel driven to do for whatever reason. I know the things that I want to put out in the world; I want to make sure the music I’m making has the best parts of myself, but then the best parts of everyone else who’s playing on it.

I think that folks who aren’t just straight white men in this industry, we realize from the get-go that we have to have others with us. We have to do it together. Otherwise we’re not going to go the distance. I feel that in both of your music, as well. But Brenna, I wonder what that question brings up for you, as you’re thinking about and positioning your album to release as well?

Brenna MacMillan: It’s funny, because when Bronwyn asked about songs that I had, I had like a bunch and at that time I wasn’t even thinking about [making] an album at all. I think it was maybe like a couple months later that I decided, based on my friends that kept being like, “You should record some of these songs!” And I was like, “I guess…” I wasn’t thinking about it at all whatsoever.

Then that’s another way like to get my songwriting out there, too. And why wait for someone to come to me for songs if they don’t even know that there are songs? Besides my friends, which is who I first would want to do my songs anyway. It’s funny, because obviously it’s really cool putting out your own music, but I still get more excited when “Riddle” comes on than when “What’s to Come” comes on. [Laughs] That is so cool!

Someone else’s vision for your song, it’s like the coolest thing ever to me. Because, I know what my brain comes up with so it’s not shocking, but someone else’s ideas around something that you wrote – it’s like the coolest thing ever, and I guess that’s why I love the community. I feel like community is like the word that I say way too much, but I do I love it. For Bronwyn, Cristina [Vane], Hilary [Klug], Emily, and Mallory, to some extent back in 2018, we all were moving to town around that time and then 2020 hit and I think that’s when we all got a little closer, because we were all bored and wandering around. I took a lot of walks with my friends, individually, we tried to stay across the path from each other, but I think those bonding moments brought us closer. We were like, “Let’s get coffee” or “let’s get dinner,” and then we ended up making a video or something and it all evolved into great friendship, plus people online being like, “Oh, we like to hear you guys play together!”

@brennamacbanjo Friday night with Lester Flatt! #bluegrass #harmonies #sisters #womeninmusic #fyp #banjo #fiddle #musicians #foryou #friday #weekend #vibes #flatt #scruggs @bronwynkeithhynes @cvanemusic ♬ original sound – brennamacbanjo

One of the things I love most about that whole community of content creators – you’re talking about Cristina Vane and a lot of these other folks you create with here in Nashville – it never feels like you’re trying to shoehorn bluegrass into contemporary content creation. It really seems that making bluegrass music and making roots music with your friends is the impetus, and then you made it fit into social media – instead of vice versa. Like, it’s happened organically and from a community standpoint first, and not just from “I have a social strategy. I have a five year plan.” Do you agree or disagree?

BM: Oh yeah, I agree. There’s not much strategy that’s happened in here. There’s not a lot of that going on. [Laughs]

And yet, I can tell you objectively from the outside looking in, y’all are still operating with 110% more strategy in mind than most of bluegrass. [Laughs]

BKH: I feel like Brenna and I have both talked about – correct me if I’m not saying this right, Brenna – wanting social media to serve us, rather than for us to serve social media. The end goal, for at least for both of us, is not like to become a social media star, it’s to have it serve us, to get our names and our music out to more people.

BM: Yeah! And it felt like it was very random that social media took off for me. I was just like, “Where are you guys coming from? Why do you want to hear me kick off a J.D. Crowe song like every day?” But at the same time, it has its own frustrations and that’s when me – and I think a bunch of the other girls that do this side by side with their music careers – we’re like, “We’re going to have this, but only if it makes sense for helping promote our live gigs and any projects we’re doing.” But as soon as I get nasty comments, or this, or that I’m like, “Oh, I will literally just get off of this app if it’s going to go this direction.” I just block people and then keep going.

I want an audience who will appreciate the things that I want them to appreciate. I think that I’ve trained my audience, too. Basically I shoved it in there, “You are going to listen to this slow song and try to enjoy that. And if you don’t, then I’m going to take you [out of my following]…” Because there have been some people who think that I am a content creator on there, and I’m like, “No, I play music and I took an hour out of my day and posted this video and we’re lucky that happened. Now I’m on my way to a gig and I don’t need some [negative] comment.” But you could come to a live gig and request a song!

Brenna, one of the things I love about your upcoming album and the messaging around it is that you’re really doing  a direct-to-consumer business model and roll out. You’re being like, “Y’all can come to me. You already know how to find me, so this is where you can find the music, too.” I think it’s amazing and again, it’s the cutting edge of what the future of bluegrass will be while it’s also so fucking trad. It’s like back in the day, when bluegrass music required taking the car battery out of the car to play a show in the high school auditorium and then putting the battery back in to drive to the next high school auditorium.

It’s like you’re doing that in the 21st century. You’re being a DIY bluegrass musician, but in 2024. Can you talk a little bit about the direct to consumer model you’re using with your album roll out?

BM: I was like, I need to build a website so that there’s everything in one place – I remember why I did it, too, because there are a bunch of fake accounts. I knew I needed something out there to be authentic and to have all of my official links. That was literally my number one goal with the website. So now, here’s the link to my website, you can find my YouTube channel, my Facebook, my Instagram, my TikTok from there. And you’re going to know you’re in the right place. I’ve basically just started to try to push everything to my website and go from there to everything else, even if it’s taking you back to Instagram. Because [the website is] where everything’s going to happen, so that you know that it’s me instead of some person scamming you. I guess with that in mind, I started trying to link everything, like in my stories, when I’m talking about anything coming up, I just say, “Go to my website!”

Bronwyn, I wanted to ask you again about community and about bringing your circle, your scene into your album. I love all of the features on your album and I also love that it doesn’t just feel like you’re reaching for a Collaborative Recording of the Year nomination. 

[All laugh]

But I wanted to know how it felt to you, as you were thinking about who you wanted to have on the record and why you wanted to have them on the record?

BKH: I’m glad to hear you say that it feels like it’s in service of the music, because that was definitely my intent. It was the funnest part of [recording the album], for me. I did kind of make those decisions after the tracks were done and I’d done my vocals. I just didn’t know how it was going to turn out until I heard it. Then I would brainstorm with Brent [Truitt], and Jason [Carter], and whoever about who to get on it. Dudley Connell was somebody I was really excited about and I’d never met him. I didn’t know him. Someone just gave me his number, I called him up and left him a nervous voicemail. But yeah, he turned out to be the sweetest guy ever – and he’s a bluegrass hero, I love all those Johnson Mountain Boys records.

It’s crazy especially being a new singer, I haven’t heard my voice recorded much ever. Then to hear my voice with all these other voices that I know and I’ve heard a lot – to hear like that combination for the first time – it was like very surreal!

What was it like working with Dierks [Bentley]? We all know his bluegrass pedigree and his connections to the Station Inn and to the McCourys and that he’s always had one foot so solidly in bluegrass, but y’all would have gotten to know him and got to spend some time with him on the road with Molly Tuttle & Golden Highway, too. I wondered how how that conversation happened and also what it felt like to you to have someone who has gold records and platinum records collaborating with you on your record?

BKH: I grew with his Up On The Ridge album, it was literally one of the first bluegrass albums I heard around my college years.
I was obsessed with it and I thought it was so cool. It got me into listening to the more trad stuff, but I’d always loved his music and then being Jason [Carter’s] partner, and Jason and he were friends even before he was famous. So they’ve been friends from the get go.

I’d met him a few times through Jason and then again when we were on tour [opening for him], that was cool. ‘Cause I felt like we could meet [more as peers], not just because I’m somebody’s partner. But now, this is my gig and this is your gig. And you’re asking us to sit in every night. I felt a little bit more comfortable to make that ask. He just came into Brent’s studio one day and tracked it in under an hour. He’s great! Very quick.

Brenna, talk to me a little bit and if you have features on your upcoming album – and if you can’t talk about them yet, that’s totally fine.

BM: I know, I was trying to think of what I should say – I don’t know, I’m the one in charge! But let me check, I don’t know if Brenna wants to tell all that yet. [Laughs]

At the very least, we can talk about Ronnie [McCoury] and “What’s to Come.” Ronnie’s one of my favorites. Talk a bit about, again, bringing in community and bringing in the scene that already surrounds you.

BM: The core band in the studio was [Mike] Bub on bass and Jake Stargel on guitar. Me, I played banjo on four or five of the tracks, but I have been writing a lot on clawhammer lately and I know that I’m not good at it, so I had Frank Evans come in for those and then I had Cory [Walker] play on a couple very last minute. I was thinking, it’s just going to be better if he does it.

When the special guests ideas popped in my brain, I was thinking, “Do I want special guests to be like my friends, my age, or like people that I really are like heroes of mine? Is this the time to ask them? I don’t know.” Nobody knows who I am, but that’s okay. I had met Ronnie a handful of times in kind of settings where it was like, “I’m here with so and so” and I’m just a little curmudgeon. [Laughs]

“What’s to Come,” it’s like a reflective life song. I know that I sound like a small baby when I sing, and I was thinking of someone with an older sounding voice. Like wanting ancient, lonesome vibes so that there could be old and young together, pondering about life. If you’re young or if you’re old, you still ask all the same questions about life.

Also, [Ronnie’s] gritty mandolin playing. I love it so much. Jarrod Walker played on most of the core mandolin stuff, but he happened to be out of the country that session. I was like, this is perfect! But it’s funny, because I didn’t even know if Ronnie was going to bring his mandolin! [Laughs]

To wrap up, here’s a question I had for both of you, because you’re both musical shape shifters. You move in and out of musical contexts so easily; you’re both side people, you’re both front people, you’re both social media brands. How do you maintain your senses of self?

BKH: I feel like I can’t get away from myself! I don’t feel like I ever even think about that. The only way I’ve struggled with that a little bit, or thought about that more, is doing the solo projects. That’s where I’m like, “Wow. OK. What would Bronwyn do next?” But I think I know what I like and I know what I want to do. I’m just like, “How am I going to do that? I need to figure that out.

BM: I think similarly, I don’t really think about it that much. I think I know what I like, too. And I know what I don’t like. From the get go, I’ve very much just been myself online. I come home from the lab job and do a video with dark circles [under my eyes] and grunge and smelling like hemp trash. That’s what I established from the beginning. So now, I feel comfortable being myself.

Pretty much everything has been my own ideas and, it’s funny, because ten of my eleven songs are originals on the album, three of which are co writes, but hearing it come to life in the studio with other people, it still ended up being what I thought it should be. Which is weird, because there’s no way that I could bring some of these musicians into the studio who are eons beyond what I could imagine, but they knew exactly what the track needed. It does sound like me still and what my vision would have been if I had expressed it [all myself].

BKH: I feel like I’m like more myself these days than I’ve ever been. I feel like for a while, starting out in bluegrass, I had a lot of ideas of what a woman in bluegrass needed to look like, or be, or act like. In the last couple years, maybe inspired by being with Molly in Golden Highway, I feel like I’ve been able to let a lot of that stuff go – about how I should dress and whatever. Now, I embrace the things I actually like.


Photo Credit: Brenna MacMillan by Sophie Clark; Bronwyn Keith-Hynes by Alexa King Stone.