Basses of Comparison: Shelby Means and Bridget Kearney Step Out Front

Although she spent a decade living and playing music in Nashville, most notably as the bassist for bluegrass group Della Mae, Shelby Means is now settled in Charleston, South Carolina, where she says she appreciates being closer to her family and so much beautiful nature. Throughout a back porch Zoom call about her self-titled bluegrass album, she also praises her producer, Maya De Vitry, a fellow singer-songwriter and former bandmate of Means’s husband, Joel Timmons. To hear Means tell it, De Vitry helped her pull together the masterful band on the collection. The session players read like a who’s-who of bluegrass’ finest: Jerry Douglas, Billy Strings, Sam Bush, Molly Tuttle, Ronnie McCoury, Sam Grisman, Bryan Sutton, and on and on.

Granted, players such as these have a way of winding up in recording studios together. But rarely is the bass player at the mic, directing the traffic. So, to mark this rare occasion, BGS got Means on Zoom with bassist/songwriter/bandleader Bridget Kearney (Lake Street Dive, Joy Kills Sorrow), whose 2023 solo album Comeback Kid also had the bassist at the wheel.

When I see projects like yours, Shelby, I’m always interested in the community of it all. These folks play on a lot of people’s albums, but when somebody different is in the front, it shifts the vibe. It brings out something different. I hate to gender something like this, but there’s something different about feminine energy being out front, so I wanted to just start there.

Both of you have played in women-led projects. You’ve done solo stuff. You’ve backed up other people. And you’ve both been doing it a long time. What have you noticed about how the vibe changes, or how the community plays, when a woman is at the front?

Shelby Means: Well, Bridget, have you ever been the only woman in a band?

Bridget Kearney: Yes.

SM: I think I have, too. But when I was much younger. Then, when I moved to Nashville, it seemed like, even if the band was being led by a man, there was usually at least one other woman, which I found very useful and helpful. [There was] solidarity.

BK: Yeah, I feel like I’ve often been in bands that are a mix. Lake Street Dive is a mix, and Joy Kills Sorrow was a mix. So I guess the only thing I’ve never been in is an all-men band. I tend to like it when there’s a mix, when people are bringing all sorts of different perspectives into a band. When I’m putting a band together for a project, I’m always making sure I’m leaving all the possibilities open. I think that’s the most important thing: making sure everyone’s at least getting in the door to get interviewed.

SM: I think it’s super balanced when there’s men and women. It feels yin/yang. Like the whole thing is present.

Which is interesting, considering Della Mae is an all-women band. Do you feel like there was imbalance in that? Or like that’s just a whole different vibe.

SM: Yeah, it’s a whole different vibe. It was a great experience being part of an all-female band. We had some amazing opportunities because we only had women in the band. For example, going to Pakistan and being able to perform for colleges that were all women. It was some of those women’s first time ever seeing a [musical] performance … because they aren’t allowed to go out and see shows, especially unaccompanied. So those experiences were totally amazing and worth whatever it was that made it feel slightly imbalanced. … I’m very new to putting my own band together. But because I’ve enjoyed being in projects with a balance of male and female energy, I do kind of want to make sure that I get boys and girls, or however you identify. It doesn’t matter to me, you know.

Back to the community thing, though. I’m thinking about jams at festivals, and how bluegrass works. Somebody steps to the front and takes the solo and that kind of vibe is on this record. How did you feel to get to lead the band for the first time?

SM: It was amazing. And I want to give a lot of props to my producer, Maya De Vitry. When you think about her and I teaming up together, and calling Sam Bush, Jerry Douglas, Bryan Sutton, Ron Block—all the the big names on the record—and basically being in charge of them, that was something else. We respect them so much and look up to their music. … We’ve listened to that stuff growing up, so it’s really cool to be in a position of [directing] those cats. They totally respected Maya and me, and looked to us for direction like they were on the team. I remember Maya saying, before Day One, “Jerry Douglas is a human being. Ron Block is a human being. Maya De Vitry is a human being.” Like, we’re on the same playing field in the fact that we’re all humans. Obviously all of us feel nervous or scared at some point, so we can relate on those things and just take the pressure off a little bit.

We’re all in the folk roots, Americana, bluegrass, whatever you want to call it world, where everything is community-centric, and of course you’re touring all the time so you know people everywhere. But I think especially right now in the world, the idea of bringing people together with different skill sets to collaborate and make something beautiful feels really heavy and important. Heavy in a really good way. Do you feel like that is a priority to you, or does it feel more about just music and art for art’s sake?

SM: Well, they’re similar, those. I feel music for art’s sake is like music for the heart. I mean we have to [make music]. But it does help that we’re bringing people together. And hopefully people are gonna come out and see the show and we’ll have an experience at the show that can potentially transcend any sort of darkness or whatever it is that’s going on in each person’s [life] or the collective world. … I’ve had an experience recently where we’re watching a band. And just because I’ve had some grief and things going on in my life, it just was flowing. Like, I was crying and enjoying the concert. I was there feeling it with my bandmates, we were all together having a crybaby moment, letting our emotions go, and feeling safe in that environment to do that, which I think is very important.

BK: One hundred percent agree. I think the pause in live shows during COVID lockdown really highlighted that for me, because there was this long period where that wasn’t happening. The first time I went back to a music festival, the band that was playing before us was The War and Treaty. Same thing. I was just in tears, like this is so powerful. Their songs are so good. All these people came from far and wide, and they’re in the same place, and they’re singing along. It’s truly the most connective force that I see.

Both of you play bass, which requires you to be the support system for the band. I don’t know why it seems that upright bass is a male instrument more than other instruments. Maybe because it’s so big and it’s so low, and it’s harder to press the strings down. But can you talk a little bit about being, specifically, women bassists?

SM: We could probably talk for hours about that. It’s always fun whenever I get together with another bass player in general, because we often don’t [get together]. There’s many times where, if there’s somebody sitting in, it’s another fiddle player, another banjo player. Often another bass player isn’t asked to sit in, so we don’t get to hang out very frequently. But when we do, it’s really cool.

For me, growing up, my dad and my brother definitely enabled me. They would carry my bass around at jam sessions. At a certain point, when I was in high school and college, I had the gumption. I wanted to do it. I would carry the bass down the hall. I got one with backpack straps, so I would have to hunch over because the hotel halls are usually too short to fully stand upright and carry a bass on your back. You look like a little turtle. … I tried other instruments, but the bass was the one for me, despite its size and physical nature.

BK: For me, one thing that was influential with choosing the bass was that where were some examples in my life of women who played the bass. Actually, my first three bass teachers were women. There was an amazing bass player, Diana Gannett, who was teaching at the University of Iowa when I was growing up. She had a bunch of students who were undergrads or grad students that were in town, and those were the people that were accessible to take lessons from, when I was starting to play bass in junior high and high school. So that was lucky for me that it was just, like, normalized. I think that’s an important thing about representation on stage, making sure kids out there see versions of themselves doing all the jobs.

SM: Yeah, I don’t remember noticing any men playing the bass, but I remember the first woman that I saw playing the bass and thought I wanna do that. I think I can do that.

Let’s end with an easy question: What have you been listening to lately?

SM: I’ve been listening to some of the other new releases coming out. I’m With Her. And Leftover Salmon put out a record.

BK: MK.Gee and what else? I’ve been listening to some music from Morocco. It’s this Sufi Islamic healing music with this instrument that’s very similar to bass, called the gimbri. I did a semester abroad there in college and then was just back there recently for the first time since college. I’ve been getting into that music. It’s so cool.

Do you feel like that gets into what you’re writing?

BK: I think it definitely gets into the way that I play bass, because it’s an instrument that’s like the register of bass. It’s the only pitched instrument in the ensemble, so it’s extremely bass-forward music. It’s just this instrument and then percussion and singing, so the bass has this really central role. It’s very melodic and kind of percussive. Also, the front of the instrument is leather, so it’s kind of like a drum head. Sometimes you play a note with your finger but also use your other fingers to hit the drum. So you’re kind of playing bass and drum at the same time. That’s something I think very much influenced the way I play bass. Shelby, I’ll send you some.

SM: Yeah, send me some of that. That sounds awesome.


Photo Credit: Bridget Kearney by Rodneri; Shelby Means by Hunter McRae

BGS 5+5: Melissa Carper

Artist: Melissa Carper
Hometown: Bastrop, Texas (outside of Austin)
Latest album: Daddy’s Country Gold (out March 19)
Personal nicknames: Daddy

Which artist has influenced you the most … and how?

I’d have to say Jimmie Rodgers, the Father of Country Music, has influenced me the most. My dad gave me the full collection of Jimmie Rodgers on tape when I was about 20 years old. I had grown up listening to Hank Williams, but I’d never heard anything like Jimmie Rodgers. The quality of the recording was raw and initially harder to listen to, but I became addicted and listened over and over to these tapes. When I first started trying to write country songs I would copy the formula in Jimmie Rodgers songs, or rather they had become such a part of me that I couldn’t help but write something similar. Come to find out years later, a lady name Elsie McWilliams co-wrote on many of Jimmie’s songs, so I guess I have been copying her as well. Jimmie Rodgers combined blues and jazz into his country songs and even had horn sections and collaborated with Louis Armstrong on some recordings. Hank Williams and so many country artists coming after Jimmie Rodgers were influenced by his style.

What’s your favorite memory from being on stage?

I have many great memories on stage. One of my favorites is playing a farm party and the stage was a trailer bed and one of their goats jumped up on the stage while we were playing. Also, a fun memory is performing at NYC’s Town Hall for Prairie Home Companion‘s Talent in Towns Under 2000 Contest. At the time I lived in a town that was just under a population of 2000 — Eureka Springs, Arkansas. This was in the year 2000, and back then my band, the Camptown Ladies, auditioned by leaving a song on their answering machine — this was one of the ways you could audition! We were one of six finalists chosen and they flew us to Manhattan for the contest. I think the contrast of living in a small town and then being brought to this grand theater in NYC is an amazing memory for me. We won the toolbox prize — which was the staff’s vote for their favorite band.

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

I love to meditate sitting under trees and listening to the birds. I don’t know that this exactly impacts my work directly. I also just enjoy being in the country where there is space and plenty of nature around. I have noticed that if I spend time in nature I will write a different type of song. I moved from Austin, Texas, to the middle of nowhere in Arkansas in 2014 and rented a cabin in the woods. I felt like I was decompressing from being in a city and I had several old-time songs come out that were nature-oriented. I enjoy writing about birds, trees, flowers, seasons, moons, stars. If I spend a lot of time alone my creativity will open up. Also, I often write when I am driving on a road trip or going for a walk. I almost always write a melody and words first without an instrument, and then I’ll go back with a guitar and figure out what chords go with the melody.

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

When I have to try too hard to write something it usually doesn’t turn out to be as good of a song. There have been several times I’ve rehashed a song over and over and am still not satisfied with the outcome. Sometimes I’ll try a song out at a performance and if it feels good and resonates with people then I know I’ve got a good song. I love it when I’m writing and a song just flows right out almost seamlessly as if the universe is helping. Usually, I’ll know right away if I’ve got one of those magic songs happening. I don’t like to force myself to write but I have had long dry spells in which I have tried to do this and sometimes I have some success by just trying to be more aware of ideas and inspiration that is coming in.

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

I had no choice. We had a family band growing up, and I was probably 5 when we started playing gospel music at churches and retirement homes. Then when I was 12 years old we started the family country band and we would play four-hour shows in the American Legions, Eagles, Elks and Moose clubs around our area. I did enjoy it and the siblings that didn’t enjoy it did get to drop out of the band. The four-hour-long shows were a bit long but my dad bought us as many Shirley Temples as we wanted and they paid us for the gigs as well. I was one of the few kids that had their own money at the age of 12 and I would take my friends out for pizza. My mom and dad wanted all their kids to be musicians and I am glad they encouraged and supported us in this.

I received a scholarship for studying music, upright bass, at the University of Nebraska in Lincoln. I had been considering being an English major also, but I chose music. I dropped out of college after two and half years and didn’t play music for maybe a year or so, but I just kept coming back to music and eventually realized I could make a living playing all sorts of styles. I also realized that my choice of upright bass as my instrument was a smart choice as I was able to join bluegrass and old-time bands, country bands, blues and jazz, just about anything and everyone always needed a bass player.


Photo credit: Aisha Golliher

WATCH: Scott Mulvahill Shows His ‘Creative Potential’ in the Studio

Some instruments tend to have a pretty specific role in the world of roots music. It takes a great deal of ingenuity and skill to challenge these roles, create something truly unique, and expand the capabilities of an instrument. That is exactly what singer-songwriter Scott Mulvahill has done with his growing catalog of solo material. Not only is he a talented both singing and songwriting, but he is also a world-renowned bass player, previously fulfilling low-end duties for Ricky Skaggs’ legendary bluegrass band Kentucky Thunder.

Mulvahill’s creativity and uniqueness shine in his 2020 release, Creative Potential, a project filled with songs that put a smile on your face. Love, happiness, and joy are each subjects of several of the tracks, making this EP a bright spot in a dull year. Smooth singing and skillful playing abound, but an extra treat in this release is the wonderfully thought-out arrangement and presentation of the music. If you haven’t had the pleasure of listening to Scott Mulvahill yet, we highly recommend you get on the train and hear just what is so special about Creative Potential.


Photo credit: Lindsey Patkos

Worst Band Member Is Also Nicest Guy

PORTLAND, OR — Two members of up-and-coming folk/roots trio the Blue Biscuits tentatively broached the subject of new band member and bassist Ted Baker with each other on Friday night after their modestly attended house concert.

“I was really vibing our sound tonight,” singer/guitarist Sam Crenshaw said, lowering his voice. “But maybe we should talk to Ted about eating hummus on gig days. He’s a really nice guy, but his farts were so rank it felt like I was chewing on them all night.”

“Yeah, couldn’t he have used the upstairs bathroom after the show? The people in the dining room had to find an excuse to go outside.” Fiddler Todd Brown then paused and considered, “He did offer to be the one to sleep on the pull-out couch, though, so that was super nice.”

Earlier that evening, Crenshaw and Brown exchanged a look when Baker started texting during stage banter and, unbeknownst to both members, the affable upright player had also been turning his volume up a little bit after every song. At set break, Baker defused a potentially tense situation after spilling his fourth beer on Crenshaw’s amp by offering the singer sincere and insightful compliments on his performance that evening.

“He’s really such a nice guy,” Brown reasoned. “It’s hard to get mad about little things when his heart’s in the right place. Don’t sweat the small stuff, right?”

The two longtime band mates have done their best to preserve that attitude through several last minute no-shows, a highly questionable payout split at a big club gig, and 15-minute bass solos during their sets.

“Ted is a player’s player. He’s the nicest guy and loves the music, so it’s tough to tell him to dial back on the jamming.” At the same time, Crenshaw noted that a sizeable portion of audience members had either fallen asleep or quietly slipped out during Baker’s third solo. “We’ll figure it out,” said Brown. “I definitely don’t want to give up the good thing we have going with the band dynamic.”

While Crenshaw and Brown were contemplating the future of the band, Baker was seen making a pass at the house concert hostess as she went to refill ice from the garage.


The above is a work of satire. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental … although entirely likely.

Photo credit: jemasmith / Foter.com / CC BY