BGS Class of 2021: Our Favorite Albums, Made With Intention

This collection of albums is not simply a “best of” 2021. That would be selling every single collection included herein far too short. These roots and roots-adjacent releases each stood as a testament to the music makers and communities that spawned them. Not simply in the face of a globe-halting, existentially challenging pandemic, but in the face of an industry, government, and culture that would just as soon have all of us pretend the last two years — and beyond — simply didn’t happen. 

These artists and creators refused to let the pandemic define their artistic output through it, while simultaneously acknowledging, processing, and healing from the pandemic through this music. Not a single album below is a “pandemic record,” yet every single one is a resounding, joyful balm because the intention in each is not simply a reaction to a global disaster or an attempt to commodify it or its by-products. Not a single one is an attempt to “return to normalcy.” They’re each challenging us as listeners, in both overt and subtle ways, to walk into our collective new reality together, wide-eyed and open-armed, and with intention.

Daddy’s Country Gold, Melissa Carper

It was a sly move on Melissa Carper’s part to give her album, Daddy’s Country Gold, a title that works on so many levels, nodding to the passing down of sounds, to her road nickname and to her ability to casually loosen postwar country perceptions of masculinity and femininity. In her songs and performances, her gestures are even more beguilingly subtle. Enlisting a fellow upright bassist to produce with her, the Time Jumpers’ Dennis Crouch, Carper claimed western swing and early honky-tonk eras as her playground, and the shrewd, crooning intimacy of Billie Holiday as her guide. Carper sings in a slight, reedy rasp, deftly phrasing her lines and curling her words to suggest the lasting nature of longing and fleeting nature of pleasure. She’s written a movingly clever ballad of broken commitment (“My Old Chevy Van”), elegantly pining tunes of both torchy and down-home varieties (“I Almost Forgot About You,” “It’s Better If You Never Know”) and whimsical fantasies of rural homesteading, sometimes making clear that she’s cast a female partner in those stories (“Old Fashioned Gal,” “Would You Like to Get Some Goats?”) Her artful knowledgeable nudging of tradition is a revelation. — Jewly Hight


Music City USA, Charley Crockett

Few artists in the last few years have us as fired up as Charley Crockett. His unapologetically individual sound and aesthetic shine through once again on his 2021 release, Music City USA. The irony, of course, is that the album sounds nothing like most of what comes out of modern-day Nashville. It’s an amalgamation of influences both old and new — blues and classic country and soul with a peppering of Texas-tinged Americana on top. Charley Crockett absolutely represents what the future of Music City sounds (and looks) like in our book. — Amy Reitnouer Jacobs


Home Video, Lucy Dacus

We must forgo the existential “Is it roots?” question at this juncture, simply because this stunning and resplendent work by Lucy Dacus refused to be excluded from this list. Perhaps the superlative album of 2021, in a year filled to bursting with objectively and subjectively superlative albums, Home Video is impossibly resonant, relatable, down-to-earth, and touching — despite its intricate specificity and deeply vulnerable personality. Dacus’ queerness, and the beautiful, humane ways it refuses categorization and labels, is the crack beneath the door through which the light of this gorgeous, fully-realized universe is let into our hearts. Her post-evangelical pondering; the challenging while awe-inspiring abstract, amorphous gray zones she doesn’t just examine, but celebrates; the anger of rock and roll paired with the tenderness of folk and the spilled ink of singer-songwriters — whether taken as a masterpiece of genre-fluid postmodernity or an experiment on the fringes of roots music, Dacus’ Home Video establishes this ineffable artist as a subtle, intellect-defying (and -encouraging), empathetic genius of our time. — Justin Hiltner


My Bluegrass Heart, Béla Fleck

It’s been over twenty years since the eminent master of the banjo, Béla Fleck, recorded a bluegrass record. My Bluegrass Heart completes a trilogy of albums (following 1988’s Drive and 1999’s The Bluegrass Sessions) and is as much a who’s who of modern bluegrass – featuring the likes of Billy Strings, Chris Thile, Sierra Hull, Bryan Sutton, Molly Tuttle, Michael Cleveland, Sam Bush and many others – as it is a showcase of Fleck’s still-virtuoso level talent.

But as much as My Bluegrass Heart is an album for a bluegrass band, we would be hard pressed to call it a bluegrass album (in the best possible way). As he has done countless times before, Fleck effectively breaks every rule and pushes every boundary by surrounding himself with fellow legendary rule breakers, creating something wholly beautiful and unique in the process.Amy Reitnouer Jacobs


A Tribute to Bill Monroe, The Infamous Stringdusters

Bluegrass loves a “back to bluegrass” album, no matter how far an artist or band may or may not have traveled from bluegrass before coming back to it. On A Tribute to Bill Monroe, the Infamous Stringdusters cement ‘80s and ‘90s ‘grass – “mash” and its subsidiaries – as an ancestor to the current generation of jamgrass. Or, at the very least, it cements that these two modern forms of bluegrass cooperatively evolved. It’s crisp, driving, bouncing bluegrass that’s as much traditional as it isn’t. Sounds like quintessential Stringdusters, doesn’t it? Their collective and individual personalities ooze through the Big Mon’s material, which is what we all want cover projects to do, in the end: Cast classics in a new light, into impossibly complicated refractions. And, in this case, infusing postgrass sensibilities back into the bluegrass forms that birthed them. — Justin Hiltner


Race Records, Miko Marks & the Resurrectors

One of the best bluegrass albums of the year most likely would not be “binned” as bluegrass, and that this album is titled Race Records demonstrates exactly why. Miko Marks returns to the primordial ooze aesthetic of country, old-time, blues and bluegrass — without a whiff of essentialism — and accomplishes a Bristol Sessions or ‘40s-era Grand Ole Opry sound that’s as firmly anchored in the present as it is elemental. Marks’ musical perspective has always highlighted her awareness that the death of genre, as it were, is nothing new, but a return to the traditions that birthed all of these roots genres, many of which can be attributed to the exact communities race records originally sought to erase. Marks & the Resurrectors joyfully and radically occupy songs and space on Race Records. The result is as light and carefree as it is profound; it’s devastatingly singular yet feels like a sing along. All quintessential elements of bluegrass and country. — Justin Hiltner


Dark in Here, Mountain Goats

John Darnielle sings at the velocity of a firehose torrent, and he writes songs with titles like “Let Me Bathe in Demonic Light” and “The Destruction of the Superdeep Kola Borehole Tower.” But rather than death metal, Mountain Goats play elegantly arranged folk-rock dressed up with saxophones and the occasional keyboard freak-out. Dark in Here, the best of five Mountain Goats albums released the past two years, coheres into tunefulness despite the clashing contrasts — especially “Mobile,” a gently gliding Biblical meditation on hurricane season, and also Darnielle’s prettiest song ever. Perfect for the whiplash jitters of this modern life. — David Menconi


In Defense Of My Own Happiness, Joy Oladokun

I don’t know if I’ve ever been so immediately captivated by an artist as I was when I first heard Joy Oladokun’s single, “Jordan,” earlier this year. On that song — and every other one on In Defense of My Own Happiness that I played over and over this year — her clear voice and searingly personal lyrics emerge as a calm, universal call to pursue something better, melting down her own painful past and re-molding it in the image of self-love, inner peace and … well, joy. Oladokun is indeed building her own promised land, and we’re all lucky to bear witness. — Dacey Orr Sivewright


Outside Child, Allison Russell

One might assume an album covering the subject of abuse could intimidate a listener with its potential heaviness. While Outside Child does indeed venture into the depths of those dark experiences, Allison Russell gleans profound lessons learned and treasures discovered from each and every detail of her experiences in her youth. The result is ethereal and uplifting — and a release of trauma through a bright musical experience swelling and overflowing with hope for the future. — Shelby Williamson


The Fray, John Smith

Most artists are pretty keen to play down the idea of a “lockdown record,” because they’re worried it will limit the music’s appeal or longevity. But the emotions John Smith pours into The Fray — born of that period when we were all taking stock of our lives, and wondering what to do next — will hold their currency for a long while yet. It’s honest, yes, but also pretty soothing on the ear, showcasing Smith’s fullest sound to date — both heart’s cry and soul’s balm at once. — Emma John


See You Next Time, Joshua Ray Walker

I wasn’t out after “Three Strikes.” Instead, I was all in. With the steel guitar weaving like a drunkard in a Buick, it sometimes seems like this Dallas musician’s third album is about to go off the rails, along with the lives of the people he’s created in these songs. It never does, though, and that’s a credit to Joshua Ray Walker’s commanding vocal and a willingness to bring his dry sense of humor to the country music landscape. From the pretty poser in “Cowboy” to the unsightly barfly known as “Welfare Chet,” these folks feel like true honky-tonk characters. — Craig Shelburne


Simple Syrup, Sunny War

“Tell me that I look like Nina,” sings Los Angeles singer-songwriter Sunny War in “Like Nina,” the keystone song of her fourth album, Simple Syrup. The Nina in question is, of course, Nina Simone. The look is the “same sad look in my eyes,” though in concert War often flashes a bright, disarmingly shy smile — that of a young Black artist demanding to be taken on her own, singular terms, not the terms of cultural expectations. She continues: She can’t dance like Tina, sing like Aretha, be styled like Beyoncé. But she can see injustice, seek love and respect, seek a sense of self, and sing about it, captivatingly, with her earthy voice and folk-blues-rooted fingerpicking, enhanced by a small cadre of friends led by producer Harlan Steinberger. Like Nina? No. Like Sunny War. — Steve Hochman


Sixteen Kings’ Daughters, Libby Weitnauer

There’s a new artist on the folk scene — Libby Weitnauer. Weitnauer is a fiddle player, violinist, singer and songwriter raised in East Tennessee and currently based in Nashville. Her debut EP and first solo effort, Sixteen Kings’ Daughters, was produced by Mike Robinson (Sarah Jarosz, Railroad Earth) and presents centuries-old Appalachian ballads that have been recast into a lush and unsettling sonic landscape. Weitnauer’s high lilting voice is reminiscent of Jean Ritchie, and she glides with ease atop eerie backdrops of electric guitar, bass, fiddle and pedal steel. A strong debut to say the least, and we’re excited to hear more. — Kaïa Kater


Urban Driftwood, Yasmin Williams

Watching Yasmin Williams play guitar can boggle your mind. She uses her full body to coax noise from the instrument, her fingers pounding on the strings, her feet clicking out counter rhythms in tap shoes, one hand even accompanying herself on kalimba. As impressive as her technique is, it’s less remarkable than her facility for compositions that are melodically direct yet structurally intricate. Urban Driftwood is a carefully and beautifully written album, and Williams’ songs lose none of their flair when she transfers them from the stage to the studio. Dense with earworm riffs and evocative textures, the album represents a crucial pivot away from the increasingly staid world of folk guitar, which has recently been dominated by white men indebted to the historical American Primitivism pioneered by John Fahey. Williams is opening that world up to new sounds and influences, insisting that her guitar can speak about our present moment in ways that are meaningful, moving, and subversive. — Stephen Deusner


Grammy Nominations 2022: See the American Roots Music Nominees

The Grammy Awards have revealed their nominees, and the American Roots Music ballot is especially diverse this year. Take a look at nominations for the 2022 show, which will air January 31 from Los Angeles on CBS. (See the full list.)

Best American Roots Performance

Jon Batiste – “Cry”
Billy Strings – “Love and Regret”
The Blind Boys of Alabama and Béla Fleck – “I Wish I Knew How It Would Feel to be Free”
Brandy Clark Featuring Brandi Carlile – “Same Devil”
Allison Russell – “Nightflyer”

Best American Roots Song

Rhiannon Giddens, Francesco Turrisi – “Avalon”
Valerie June Featuring Carla Thomas – “Call Me a Fool”
Jon Batiste – “Cry”
Yola – “Diamond Studded Shoes”
Allison Russell – Nightflyer

Best Americana Album

Jackson Browne – Downhill From Everywhere
John Hiatt with the Jerry Douglas Band – Leftover Feelings
Los Lobos – Native Sons
Allison Russell – Outside Child
Yola – Stand for Myself

Best Bluegrass Album

Billy Strings – Renewal
Béla Fleck – My Bluegrass Heart
The Infamous Stringdusters – A Tribute to Bill Monroe
Sturgill Simpson – Cuttin’ Grass Vol. 1 (Butcher Shoppe Sessions)
Rhonda Vincent – Music Is What I See

Best Traditional Blues Album

Elvin Bishop and Charlie Musselwhite – 100 Years of Blues
Blues Traveler – Traveler’s Blues
Cedric Burnside – I Be Trying
Guy Davis – Be Ready When I Call You
Kim Wilson – Take Me Back

Best Contemporary Blues Album

The Black Keys Featuring Eric Deaton and Kenny Brown – Delta Kream
Joe Bonamassa – Royal Tea
Shemekia Copeland – Uncivil War
Steve Cropper – Fire It Up
Christone “Kingfish” Ingram – 662

Best Folk Album

Mary Chapin Carpenter – One Night Lonely (Live)
Tyler Childers – Long Violent History
Madison Cunningham – Wednesday (Extended Edition)
Rhiannon Giddens with Francesco Turrisi – They’re Calling Me Home
Sarah Jarosz – Blue Heron Suite

Best Regional Roots Music Album

Sean Ardoin and Kreole Rock and Soul – Live in New Orleans!
Big Chief Monk Boudreaux – Bloodstains and Teardrops
Cha Wa – My People
Corey Ledet Zydaco – Corey Ledet Zydaco
Kalani Pe’a – Kau Ka Pe’a


Photo of Allison Russell: Marc Baptiste
Photo of Tyler Childers: David McClister
Photo of Rhiannon Giddens and Francesco Turrisi: Karen Cox

Tray Wellington Conquers World of Bluegrass With His Five-String Banjo

A few short weeks ago the streets of Raleigh, North Carolina, were once again filled with bluegrass lovers at IBMA’s World of Bluegrass conference and festival. Banjoist and Momentum Award winner Tray Wellington was everywhere to be found during the festivities — performing, hosting this year’s Momentum Awards luncheon, and playing a main stage set at the Red Hat Amphitheater. This is remarkable because if you had looked for Wellington at IBMA just a few short years ago, you might not have run into him except on the youth stage or in the halls, jamming.

Catapulted by his prior work with the talented young band Cane Mill Road, his studies at East Tennessee State University’s bluegrass program, and a stable of accomplished and connected mentors and peers, Wellington went from a newbie to a seasoned veteran faster than a global pandemic could subside — and during it. Efforts for better and more accurate representation in bluegrass have contributed to his momentum (no pun intended), but above all, his talent and his envelope-pushing approach to the five-string banjo are the root causes of his mounting and well-deserved notoriety. 

Last year, during World of Bluegrass, Wellington performed as part of our Shout & Shine Online virtual showcase. For 2021’s edition of the biggest week in bluegrass, we connected via phone after the conference to talk about these leaps and bounds in his career, the ever-increasing tempo of his music-making and performing, and what’s coming up next for the young picker. We also discuss why making the bluegrass community more inclusive is so important — and how his own progress in the industry over a few short years reinforces that point. 

BGS: You were so busy at IBMA this year! Let’s start there — can you talk a bit about the growth that you’ve experienced over the past few years? Because this year you were everywhere and doing everything in Raleigh!

Tray Wellington: [Laughs] Yeah, it was kind of a crazy week! It was a lot of new things, like you said, that I’ve never done before. But I think it really opened me up to a lot more ideas of what I can do in the music industry. I started out the week going to the business conference and then on Wednesday I hosted the Momentum Awards. And that was kind of a crazy thing for me, you know, I’ve never done anything in that regard, as far as hosting a whole awards show. I got asked to do it and I was kind of nervous about actually doing it. I remember getting up there like, “Dang! I can’t back out now!”

It’s a cool experience! Especially when people come up to you afterwards and tell you you did a good job. It makes you feel good about your progress over the last couple of years and I’m glad that people put faith in me and thought I would do a good enough job at it so they did ask me to do it. 

You’re going from being an instrumentalist, a sideman, and a technician of the instrument to being a frontman and a recording artist. I wonder how that shift has felt to you? How does it feel to be in charge and “guiding the ship?” 

It’s been a really weird experience. Before, when I was just being a sideman, I had a great time with that, because it did open me up to a lot of different types of music and getting to learn a lot of music. But that’s something I still try to do with my band now. I try to incorporate those ideas from my band members, because I did learn so much [when I was in other bands]. I think the most important thing in a band is hearing other people’s perspectives. I love the other band members bringing songs to me and being like, “Hey, can we do this?” Working up their music [is just as important] as working up my music and the arrangements for my stuff. 

There have been people who do great front work who choose all of the material for their bands — I’m not saying that doesn’t happen. I just think that when I’ve seen bands that really get along and take each other’s musical perspectives in, it’s been a much more natural and calm feeling. Versus the feeling of, “Oh, somebody messed something up!” That was something I felt more when I was a sideman, I was so serious. It’s good to be serious, but it’s also good to stay relaxed.

To me, you have a very traditional approach to banjo playing while at the same time, you don’t necessarily seem too concerned with what is or isn’t bluegrass. Can you talk about what musically guides you and inspires you as you’re playing more in the bandleader headspace? How do you want to sound and why do you want to sound that way? 

It’s interesting that you mention that, because most of the time I usually get feedback that I’m more of a progressive musician, like 95 percent of the time. So it’s interesting that you say that — I love everybody’s observations. I would say, when I was playing with Cane Mill Road I definitely had more of a traditional approach to the banjo. I still get a lot of my attack from that. When I’m thinking about music, though, I love all forms of music and I want to play all forms of music. That’s something I really try to do. I try to incorporate sounds from jazz — I studied jazz a little bit in college. That was a big thing for me, taking in those sounds and inspirations. As well as taking from other forms of music, because that’s the way the genre grows. 

I’ve been really getting away from trying to sound like anybody, necessarily. That’s been my big thing. I want to be one of those musicians that tries to make my own voice on the instrument overall and gives my own ideas to it. A lot of that came from studying different players, like Béla Fleck and Scott Vestal and Noam Pikelny. Not just studying them, but studying the old school kind of stuff as well. 

You just took IBMA by storm, you’re signed to Mountain Home Music Company — so much is coming down the pipeline for you it almost feels like too big of a question to ask, but I have to ask: What are you excited about? What are you looking forward to as you just finished this really busy, business-y week? 

There’s a lot of stuff going on! It’s something I’m still thinking about myself, like what is my next major step? What’s the next move? That’s something I think a lot about. I’m looking forward to getting out and playing music live again next year. I’m playing more music live this year, but not as much with the pandemic. It’s slowed everything down. I’m also looking forward to getting into the studio at Mountain Home and recording — well, finishing my album. We’ve got some stuff recorded, but we’re kind of in the process of planning and trying to finish that project. I think it’s going to be really fun. I’m really trying to get away — not to like, disagree with what you said earlier! [Laughs] — but I’m really trying to get away from people perceiving me as more of a traditional player. 

You’re trying to sound like Tray Wellington.

Exactly. I’m trying to branch away. I’m more drawn to the modern sounds, so when I present this new album I am wanting it to be more of an eclectic kind of thing. 

I’m also excited about this upcoming performance I did for CNN on W. Kamau Bell’s program, United Shades of America with Nikki Giovanni. We did it at the Highlander Center, which is a historical civil rights school [in East Tennessee]. We went up there and I got to sit with Kamau and Nikki and a lot of great organizers from the area and get to play music for them. It was super fun. I’m wanting to do more stuff there in the future. It’s such a historic place. It’s crazy, before this shoot I didn’t know what the Highlander Center was and I grew up an hour and twenty minutes from there. The government of Tennessee hates the Highlander Center for their work there. It’s such a taboo thing to talk about in East Tennessee. I had never heard of it. They gave me a whole tour of the place and told me a ton of the history and I was like, “I’ve never even heard of this!” They had a building burnt down like two years ago by white supremacists. 

I know!! And this is after the state and the KKK trying so many times to run them out. It’s shocking so few people know about it, but that’s all by design. I’m so glad to hear you’re connected there! Especially with the current movement for inclusion in this music, it makes so much sense to partner with an organization like the Highlander Center, which is based in the home region of these musics and has always been a leader in the fight for justice. 

Yeah, absolutely. With diversity and inclusion in bluegrass, there needs to be more focus on it. Because the typical bluegrass fan base is white people, no matter what walk you’re from. It’s a lot of white people and white men, just to be honest. I think it’s one of those things where, if you want to get outside people into the music you need to encourage people who are of diverse backgrounds that this music can be inclusive. That’s the way that you move towards more people doing it.  There have been a lot of factors that have contributed to this. The biggest problem I’ve seen is not a whole lot of nationwide outreach. There are a few great programs, like Jam Pak in Arizona by Anni Beach, she’s doing great work right now.

We just interviewed Fair Black Rose, of Jam Pak, for the other part of our special IBMA Shout & Shine coverage! 

That’s great work they’re doing there! It’s a band of all diverse people from all walks of life. That’s such a great thing to see. I listened to one of their sets and I thought, “This is such a great thing.” Even when I started music I didn’t see anything like that at IBMA. It was such an interesting thing, despite the pandemic and this being a pretty low-attended year of World of Bluegrass. This was the most diverse year I’ve ever seen. … I remember going to IBMA five or six years ago for the first time and looking around and being like, “I’m the only person of color here.”

It’s that way at a lot of bluegrass festivals I go to — which is crazy, cause if you think about it, this is the International Bluegrass Music Association. There are supposed to be people from all over, as well. I’m not talking bad about IBMA, but I think the biggest need is more outreach. To people of color, but the LGBTQ+ community, too. Sometimes it’s a difficult thing to do, it can be easier said than done, but definitely I think it can be done, because other music forms have done it. For years! And they’ve had very big success. I think it just takes that initiative and drive to do it. 


Photo courtesy of Mountain Home Music Company

From Death Metal to a Fishing Boat, How Billy Strings Finds Renewal (Part 2 of 2)

Billy Strings has had his foot on the gas since he was a teenager, bringing his prolific picking to hundreds of shows around the country each year and winning over a throng of devoted fans in the process. His bluegrass bona fides may be obvious from the outset — he’s quick to cite such greats as Bill Monroe, Doc Watson, and the Stanley Brothers as some of his first musical influences, and no honest spectator could deny his talent on the guitar and mandolin — but astute listeners will also note elements of rock, jam bands, and even heavy metal in his performances, especially as Strings bounds around the stage.

The Nashville-based, Michigan-raised musician’s latest album, Renewal, comes on the heels of an exceptional year: His Rounder Records debut, Home, won the 2020 Grammy award for Best Bluegrass Album. And even as much of the music industry was grounded from touring, his innovative approach to livestreams and digital performances moved the Pollstar Awards to dub him the Breakthrough Artist of the Pandemic. But that breakthrough was more than a decade in the making, and the forces that shaped Strings as a prodigious young picker are still at work today, pushing him creatively in the studio and on stage as well as calming him at home between gigs. Here, in the second half of our BGS Artist of the Month interview, Strings tells us about his upbringing, his latest influences, and the way he unwinds between shows.

Editor’s Note: Read the first part of our interview with Billy Strings.

BGS: Tell me about where you grew up. How do you see its impact on your work today?

Billy Strings: I was born in Lansing, Michigan on October 3, which is my grandpa’s birthday. My mother, who lived in Kentucky at the time, had gone up to Lansing to visit her dad on his birthday, and that’s when I decided to show up. [Laughs] So that’s why I was named Billy as well, because that was my grandpa’s name — I was his little birthday gift.

We lived in Morehead, Kentucky, for a couple of years before coming back home to Michigan, where I really grew up. I grew up in a little town called Muir, population 600. My dad is an incredible guitar player, so he taught me how to play. He was always showing me music when I was a little kid: Doc Watson, Bill Monroe, Lester Flatt, Earl Scruggs, Jimmy Martin, Larry Sparks, and stuff like that — a lot of good bluegrass. We’d hang out at this little campground and play music next to the river by the fire. That was my childhood, man, just sitting there picking by the river.

It was real good until I got to be a teenager and started to turn sour. I had to run off and figure out a new life. I took what my dad taught me when I was a little kid, and all of a sudden I realized that bluegrass is actually pretty sweet and people love this shit — that maybe I could do something with this; that it’s not just something that I do with my dad that I should be halfway embarrassed about.

Who are the artists that you feel really inspired by right now? And are those different than the ones that you feel like you were listening to a lot when you were a kid?

For the most part, it’s still Doc Watson — he’s the main nerve — and Bill Monroe, and Lester Flatt and Earl Scruggs, Ralph Stanley and Carter Stanley, the Stanley Brothers. But I listen to a lot of different shit. I listen to death metal, and lately, I’ve been getting into this music from Mali that Béla Fleck was showing me — some really amazing stuff. And Memphis trap: I’ve been listening to Young Dolph a bunch. There’s just an energy to it. I grew up around crack houses. I’ve seen that shit that they’re rapping about. It just gets me hyped: He’s talking about coming out of nothing and becoming a self-made millionaire. I listen to it before the shows sometimes to get myself hyped up.

You played in rock bands in high school — groups with music that might not sound a lot like what you’re doing today. Is there any lesson or anything from that time that you feel like you still turn to or still apply to the music that you make?

Yeah, performing live. I never learned how to perform in a bluegrass band. I learned how to perform in a metal band. I learned music by playing bluegrass when I was a little kid, but by the time I was doing it on stage it was in a metal band — we were headbanging and running all over the place — and I still can’t help but get into the music like that. I can’t just stand there and play.

You have been in Nashville now for a little while. Has anything that has surprised you about it, good or bad?

I really love Nashville. A lot of your favorite musicians, that’s where they live. You’ll see your favorite singer in the grocery store. I get calls for sessions, and it’s from people who I grew up listening to and who I’ve idolized for my whole life. Like Béla Fleck’s record just came out, and I played a handful of songs on that. I was so honored to play with David Grisman, and Chris Thile, Sam Bush, Stuart Duncan, and Edgar Meyer — all these cats that are just… well, I don’t feel like I’m really in that league. It really was an honor. And there’ve been several things like that! I went from listening to these cats on a record to being on a first-name basis with them… texting and being friends. It’s a trip.

What’s one thing that’s brought you joy recently?

Fishing. I love bass fishing. I grew up doing that with my dad as well, but I didn’t do it for a long time because I was so busy. When the pandemic hit, I started fishing again. I go out there in rain or shine. I just like it for the solitude. Last night, I was in front of thousands of people, and to come home and go out on my boat and be alone in nature — to check out the blue herons and the fucking ospreys, eagles, fish, everything doing its thing — it’s brought me a lot of joy, brought me down to Earth. I put my boat in at 5 o’clock in the morning when the sun is just coming up. I like being out there alone at that time of day. It’s just good for my mind.

And yet it’s so clear from your performances that interacting with listeners gives you a certain joy, too. What are the forms of feedback that you value most from your audience when you’re playing live?

Sometimes when we finish a solo, everybody starts cheering real loud, the whole place gets real loud. That feels good. But sometimes I look out there and I look around and I see individual people and I literally play to them. Last night, we played in Montana and I was looking around and there was this one dude just standing there with his beer just completely still. I didn’t even know if he was enjoying it or not. So I just walked up to the front of the stage and stared directly at him and I just started playing right to him. [Laughs] So he started laughing, and then he took a drink of his beer and started bobbing his head a little bit. I think he just started getting into it by the end of the show.

I’ll look for things like that. The audience is really in control of how I’m feeling up there. Sometimes, when they’re just on fire, I can’t help but have a good time. They feed us the energy, and we give it back to them. It’s reciprocal.


Photo credit: Jesse Faatz

Better Late Than Never, David “Ferg” Ferguson Debuts ‘Nashville No More’

As the go-to producer for some of Nashville’s most enigmatic roots talents, David Ferguson is what you’d call a behind-the-board legend. The studio savant known simply as “Ferg” started out as a protégé of producer and eccentric tape-splicer Cowboy Jack Clement and went on to become Johnny Cash’s favored engineer during his late-career resurgence. More recently, Ferguson has been imparting his old-school wisdom on tastemakers like Sturgill Simpson and Margo Price, while on his own debut album Nashville No More, he puts decades of knowledge to work once more.

With 10 songs full of classic charm and creative whimsy, it’s a loose-feeling project of tunes Ferg’s been falling in love with (and recording for himself) for years, molded into an album during the pandemic doldrums. A rotating cast of Nashville A-listers like Kenny Vaughan, Sierra Hull, Justin Moses, Jerry Douglas, Stuart Duncan, Béla Fleck and Tim O’Brien helped him flesh it out, presenting gruff vocals with tender, honest reverence for the lost art of record-making. In the end, it sounds like a love letter to his life’s work – and maybe the last hurrah of a creative culture.

BGS: So we’ll start with obvious question: Why did you want to make your own record, after so many years of helping others make theirs?

David Ferguson: Well, I’ve really always been a musician at heart. But this one fell into my lap over the pandemic. I had to shut down my studio, the Butcher Shoppe, in Nashville because they sold the buildings. So I set up a control room and an overdub room at my house, then the pandemic came along and there wasn’t much work. I started digging around in my recordings from over the years, got ‘em out and started seeing what I could do. That’s kind of how it came together. I really was just putting it together for family. Like, I was just gonna give it to my mom.

That’s interesting, because I think some people might assume you’ve been wanting to do this your whole life, but it sounds more spur of the moment.

Yeah, it’s a little late in life for me to be launching a solo career. [Laughs] But it’s fun to have one coming out and I’ve got a lot of time on my hands.

It might be late to get started, but you’ve had good teachers. Working with people like Cowboy Jack and Johnny Cash, and more recently Sturgill and Margo, what have you learned about being an artist?

To try to be humble. Even doing interviews, it’s hard to talk about yourself. Somebody who enjoys sitting and talking about themselves, there’s something a little bit wrong with them. I think being humble is a great lesson. Johnny Cash was a very humble man, very humble. So I think that — and trying to be kind to people. And don’t take it for granted, because even if something does happen, it may never happen again. You gotta appreciate what you’ve got.

The people you’ve been known for working with, they’re all artists of very strong vision – ones who didn’t compromise their art. Why are you drawn to people like that?

That’s a good question. I don’t know that I am particularly drawn there, maybe it’s just kind of the way it happened. Stuff comes your way and you have to grab the opportunity if it comes. You’ve gotta be ready to make a fool of yourself if you have to, and learn to grow from mistakes. I made a whole lot of records on a whole lot of people that weren’t any good – tons of them! Not everything you’re gonna do is good. But you do your best for the amount of time or money you have.

I always tried to do my very best. I was a fast engineer and got it going quick, because I didn’t want to waste people’s money. It’s hard to come by, and to get to make a record in a studio is a special thing. It used to be a really special thing. Now anybody can make a record. You can make one in your own house. But back in the day when I started, being able to have the money and resources to go in and record an album was a big deal. I still look at it as a big deal.

I think that comes through on your record.

Thank you, man, I tried not to cut any corners. I could have, and used keyboard strings, things like that. But I had real ones. I tried to do it as real as I could do it.

Did you record this the way you would have back in the day?

Yeah. Everybody’s recording on the Pro Tools format, but I can still fire up a tape machine, I’m not afraid of it. It’s just not economically feasible anymore. And plus, people don’t realize, they always used to say, ‘Oh, tape machines sounded great.’ And it’s true. They did and they still do, but you still wind up with a 16-bit CD. Unless you’re listening to it off the tape machine or on a vinyl record, or some super high resolution format, it’s just not gonna make very much difference.

Tell me about the title you chose. You’re from Nashville and have seen how it’s changed. How did you end up with the title Nashville No More? The whole thing has a kind of weary feel to it.

[Laughs] You know it’s not really a bummer. A lot of them are actually love songs. Like “Chardonnay” is a love song to wine. And then “Looking for Rainbows,” it’s kind of a sad song about love. … Nashville No More means a lot to me, because the Nashville that I used to know is no more. I’m not saying that’s a bad thing, it’s just that things evolve, and Nashville has really evolved. The music has evolved into an unlistenable thing to me. Modern country music, to me, is really difficult to listen to. Top 10 radio, it’s not for me. And I know some of those people who are on those channels, those singers, and I really like ‘em. I’m not saying anything bad about their music or anything … I’m really happy for their success, but it’s not the kind of stuff I’m gonna listen to.

Margo Price is featured on “Chardonnay,” and that has such a lovely sway to it. Where did that track come from?

That was written by my friend Roger Cook, and some years ago I made a demo of him doing the song, and I found it like ‘Jeez, where has this song been? I love this!’ … I finished it up with some real players on it, re-sung a couple of lines here and there and then sent it to Margo, and she said, ‘God, I love that song so much.’ She graciously came over and hung out for the afternoon and sung on that and “Looking for Rainbows.” Margo’s a real sweetheart and she doesn’t live far from me. The other person on there is Harry Stinson. He sings harmony, too, and Harry is in the Fabulous Superlatives. Harry’s singing on “Four Strong Winds,” too. He can blend right in there.

I love that you start off with “Four Strong Winds,” which is such a tender song. The first thing you hear is this gentle piano and a loping drum beat. Why start with that sound?

The album was totally sequenced … and it started off just exactly the opposite of what it is now. It started off with number six being number one, and we swapped the A side and B side.

Really?

That’s an old record trick I learned from Jack Clement and Johnny Cash.

What’s the benefit there?

It just kind of takes the obvious away, and that’s good. I’ve done that on more than one record for the years, and I’ve seen Jack Clement do it a few times. It’s a strange thing, but I mentioned to the guys, “Jack used to sequence it out A and B, then a couple of days later he’d be like, ‘You know, B oughta be A, I think.'” And it works!

You end on “Hard Times Come Again No More.” What’s the message in that ending?

Like I said before, that would have been number five, and we swapped it around. But it just seemed like a natural song to go out with. Sierra and Justin were kind enough to show up on that, and I think she’s just a major talent. Probably one of the most talented people I’ve ever met. She’s got the touch, and she’s not one to nitpick stuff. If you say you’re happy, she says, “OK, let’s move on.” She won’t just wear you out with it.

What was it like trying to produce your own songs, though? Is it hard to be critical of yourself?

It’s nearly impossible. Anybody you talk to who sings or even talks for a living, there’s hardly anything more painful than listening to yourself back. It’s as painful to a singer and artist as it is to anybody — unless they have an ego the size of [spreads his arms wide]. But you get in a situation where you have to be critical, so I learned how to do it on this record. I figured it out.


Photo credit: Scott Simontacchi

The BGS Radio Hour – Episode 220

Welcome to the BGS Radio Hour! Since 2017, this weekly radio show and podcast has been a recap of all the great music, new and old, featured on the digital pages of BGS. This week we have John Prine’s final recording, a BGS exclusive performance from Americana duo Jackson+Sellers, a playlist in 3/4 time, personally curated by Dori Freeman, and much more.

APPLE PODCASTS, SPOTIFY

John Prine – “I Remember Everything”

The Americana Music Association was able to celebrate the works of its community in-person last week, for the first time since the beginning of the pandemic, with the 20th Annual Americana Honors & Awards held at the historic Ryman Auditorium. And one of the night’s biggest awards, Song of the Year, was given posthumously to none other than John Prine for his final recording, “I Remember Everything.” Watch below to see John perform the song himself, followed by a tribute from Brandi Carlile, Margo Price, and Amanda Shires at last week’s awards ceremony.

Martin Sexton – “Riding Through the Rain”

New York’s Martin Sexton spoke on performing at Madison Square Garden, his pre-show and pre-studio rituals, the influence of artists and performers from Black Sabbath to Looney Tunes, and more in a recent edition of 5+5.

Rod Gator – “Out Here in Echo Park”

Rod Gator wrote “Out Here in Echo Park” during his last year living in Echo Park, when every evening he’d walk down to the L.A. River and sit along the bank. Take a listen, and you might start missing Echo Park, too.

Jackson+Sellers – “Hush”

Jackson+Sellers’ debut album, Breaking Point, comes out next month, but until then, we’re listening to the song that brought the pair of songwriters together as a duo. Jade Jackson initially reached out to Aubrie Sellers about singing harmonies on a new song she had written, and the rest is history! On their partnership, Jackson says, “Collaborating with someone who’s so energetically strong, it gives you even more creativity and license to explore.” Watch the duo’s performance of “Hush” from our Yamaha Artist Sessions below.

Dori Freeman – “The Storm”

For a recent Mixtape, our friend and songwriter Dori Freeman crafted us a playlist celebrating waltzes –her favorite type of song — which always touch her heart in ways other songs don’t.

Kirby Brown – “Ashes and Leaves”

“Ashes and Leaves,” the latest from singer-songwriter Kirby Brown, is a meditation on acceptance: “Sometimes, we are the ones being left — by lovers, friends, family, etc. At other times, we are the leavers. Maybe this is one of the inevitable arrangements of life…”

Brad Kolodner – “Foggy Mountain Special”

Old-time musician and radio host Brad Kolodner was a recent 5+5 guest, speaking about his new album, Chimney Swifts, his earliest on-stage memories, the soul-nourishing experience of the Appalachian String Band Music Festival, and more.

Béla Fleck featuring Sierra Hull & Molly Tuttle – “Wheels Up”

No matter how far afield he may roam, with his new album our Artist of the Month Béla Fleck wants the world to know his bluegrass heart will always call bluegrass home. And this rip-roaring number is about as bluegrass as it gets. The studio recording features the talents of Molly Tuttle and Sierra Hull, while this live performance below features Fleck’s current all-star live lineup: Sierra Hull on mandolin, Michael Cleveland on fiddle, Mark Schatz on bass, Bryan Sutton on guitar, and Justin Moses on dobro.

The Barefoot Movement – “Back Behind the Wheel”

“Back Behind the Wheel” is ultimately a song about hope and the idea of letting yourself feel what you need to feel, but not allowing that to be the end of the journey. “When it comes to this, I don’t know what it means to quit…”

Tammy Rogers & Thomm Jutz – “I Surely Will Be Singing”

“I Surely Will Be Singing,” a new release from songwriter Thomm Jutz and The SteelDrivers fiddler Tammy Rogers, was written at the beginning of the pandemic, as a hymn to nature and to the spirit of human resilience in the face of adversity.

The Secret Sisters – “Dust Cain’t Kill Me”

A new Woody Guthrie compilation from Elektra Records isn’t just a tribute album, it’s a reimagination. Home in this World: Woody Guthrie’s Dust Bowl Ballads features a host of compelling modern artists — like John Paul White, Colter Wall, and Chris Thile – offering their takes on Guthrie’s seminal Dust Bowl Ballads. One standout is The Secret Sisters performing “Dust Cain’t Kill Me.”

With such passion at the heart of it, Home in This World brings new life to music that has shaped American culture in the 20th and 21st centuries. “Woody Guthrie’s Dust Bowl Ballads is as relevant as ever,” producer Randall Poster states. “While profiteers exploit our natural resources, there is a growing sensitivity to the harsh farming practices that put our well-being at risk, and a concerted movement toward regenerative agriculture that can reinvigorate the soil and push back on climate change. I asked some of my favorite artists to help render these songs, hoping that this collection will reinforce the enduring power and prescience of Guthrie’s music and reveal the power of song.”

Caleb Lee Hutchinson – “I Must Be Right”

Caleb Lee Hutchinson teamed up with Trey Hensley on a new song, “I Must Be Right,” as he tells us: “I have been a fan of Trey for quite some time and was very excited to write with one of my favorite guitar pickers… It’s one of my favorite songs I’ve ever written as a result.”

Abby Posner – “Low Low Low”

Los Angeles-based musician and songwriter Abby Posner is joined by Constellation Quartet on a new video for “Low Low Low,” a beautiful, contemplative song about depression, anxiety, and learning how to live with the darkness within.

Colin Linden – “Honey On My Tongue”

“Roots music and blues do speak to a lot of people right now. Much of the healing and release you get from listening to this music… has shown itself to be so vital in these times… I hope the memories of every soul who has loved and been loved are like honey on our tongues,” says Linden of his track, “Honey on My Tongue.”


Photos: (L to R) Dori Freeman by Kristen Crigger; John Prine by Danny Clinch; Jackson+Sellers by Ashley Osborn

With Béla Fleck, Opera Star Jamie Barton Finds Her Way Back to Appalachia

At BGS, we are well aware of the immensely talented folks that have come out of Appalachia. Countless celebrated pickers, singers, writers, and performers have come from the mountainous heart of the American east. Jamie Barton is one of those singers, but her inspiration and voice led her to an entirely different realm of music than her neighbors tend to find. Barton is an acclaimed opera singer whose mezzo-soprano voice and commanding artistry have paved the path for her work with top-level ensembles like the San Francisco Opera, the Chicago Opera Theater, and the Metropolitan Opera.

Originally hailing from the foothills of Appalachia in Georgia, Barton’s roots are in bluegrass, old-time, gospel, and classic rock ‘n’ roll. The singer retains her those roots off stage as well, regularly using her platform to champion issues of social justice, sexuality, and body positivity. The all-around badass that she is, Barton is featured in a San Francisco Opera featurette called In Song: Jamie Barton, in which she returns to her musical roots in performances with Béla Fleck, who knows a thing or two about Appalachian music traditions. Produced in partnership with Hardly Strictly Bluegrass, the short film is both heartwarming and eye-opening. And it’s always a treat to see two musicians of the highest caliber perform together. Take a look.


Photo credit: Taylor Ballantyne

The BGS Radio Hour – Episode 219

Welcome to the BGS Radio Hour! Since 2017, this weekly radio show and podcast has been a recap of all the great music, new and old, featured on the digital pages of BGS. This week we have a previously unreleased live performance from Emmylou Harris and the Nash Ramblers, as well as Béla Fleck’s return to bluegrass, a conversation on songwriting with Rodney Crowell, and much more.

APPLE PODCASTS, SPOTIFY

Béla Fleck – “Round Rock”

Our current Artist of the Month recently gathered an incredible crew of bluegrass power pickers for a live rendition of “Round Rock,” a tune that he included on his recent album My Bluegrass Heart, but that he had in his back pocket for nearly 20 years. He had been saving the piece for the right band to come along, and with this lineup, he has certainly found the players up for the task.

The Kody Norris Show – “Farmin’ Man”

Kody Norris’ “Farmin’ Man” is a true-life account of the American farmer – from the perspective of Kody himself, who grew up in a tobacco farming family in the mountains of east Tennessee. “I hope when fans see this they will take a minute to pay homage to one of America’s greatest heroes…”

Katie Callahan – “Lullaby”

Katie Callahan wrote “Lullaby” on the edge of the pandemic, before anyone could’ve imagined the way parenting and work and school and home could be enmeshed so completely. The song became a sort of meditation for her amidst the chaos.

Della Mae – “The Way It Was Before”

For Della Mae’s Celia Woodsmith, the process of writing “The Way It Was Before” was one of the toughest. [The song] “took Mark Erelli and I six hours to write (three Zoom sessions). Half of that time was spent talking, looking up stories, getting really emotional about the state of the world. We wanted to make sure that every word counted, so we took our time and tried to honor each of the characters (who are actual people). The pandemic isn’t even behind us, and yet I keep hearing people say that they can’t wait to get back to “the old days.” There’s so much about “the old days” that needs changing. After everything we’ve been through in the last 18 months, I found that writing a song like this felt impossibly huge. I may not have finished it if it hadn’t been for Mark.”

Ross Adams – “Tobacco Country”

The inspiration behind singer-songwriter Ross Adams’ “Tobacco Country” came from the idea of always staying true to your roots and remembering the people who helped you follow your path and dreams.
It’s a track paying tribute to the South.

Swamptooth – “The Owl Theory”

Savannah, Georgia-based bluegrass band Swamptooth wrote this jammy, energetic tune based on a Netflix series and true crime mystery with an unlikely theory that involves an owl. Read more from Swamptooth themselves.

Emmylou Harris & The Nash Ramblers – “Roses In The Snow (Live)”

A September 1990 performance by Emmylou Harris and the Nash Ramblers at the Tennessee Performing Arts Center in Nashville had been lost to time, but now, Nonesuch Records has released it as a new live album, which features a slew of songs that were not performed on the iconic At the Ryman record.

Jon Randall – “Keep On Moving”

“‘Keep On Moving’ started with a guitar lick and a first line,” Jon Randall tells us. “Once I put pen to paper, I never looked back. That’s exactly what the song is about as well. Sometimes I wish I could just get in the car, hit the gas and keep going. I think we all feel that way and probably hesitate to do so in fear of finding somewhere you don’t want come back from. What if there is a place where nobody gives a damn about where you come from and the mistakes you’ve made? That would be a hard place to leave.”

Fieldguide – “Tupperware”

“Tupperware” came to Canadian singer-songwriter Field Guide all at once in about 20 minutes. It’s a song about his early days living in Winnipeg, but it’s also more generally about the beautiful parts of life that aren’t meant to last forever, and coming to terms with that.

Rodney Crowell – “One Little Bird”

Courage and truthfulness. Those qualities permeate Rodney Crowell’s new album, Triage; in fact, it’s safe to say they’ve guided Crowell’s entire career. In our latest Cover Story, we spoke to Crowell about the new project, making amends, mortality, and so much more.

“I learned a long time ago,” he explains, “If it’s coming from my own experience, there’s a good chance I’m a step closer to true. And I can mine my personal truth, but confessional only goes so far. I’ve tried to walk that line; if I can carefully write about my own experience and put it in a broader perspective, then [for] the listener, it becomes their experience…”

Triage, as specific and particular as it gets, feels like it contains truth that belongs to each and every listener. “That’s why I feel like I have to be really careful; if I make it too much about my experience, then I start to tread on the listener’s experience.”

Suzanne Santo – “Mercy”

In a recent edition of 5+5, Suzanne Santo shared her thoughts on the emotional alterations of cinema, the gift of playing music for a living, taking long, rejuvenating walks, and much more.

Jordan Tice (featuring Paul Kowert) – “River Run”

Hawktail members Jordan Tice and Paul Kowert collaborated on an original tune, “River Run,” during lockdown. According to Tice, the song “started with a little lick I had been carrying around in the key of D — a speedy little cascading thing that felt good to let roll off the fingers that I’d find myself playing in idle moments.” The end result evokes the lightness and constancy of a swiftly moving river as it passes over rocks, rounds curves, and speeds and slows. “[I] hope you experience the same sense of motion while listening and are able to glean a little bit of levity from it.”

Skillet Licorice – “3-In-1 2 Step”

Skillet Licorice combined a few different old-timey, ragtime, swinging melodies into a sort of parlor song medley that feels like it came straight out of Texas, complete with banjo and mandolin harmonies.


Photos: (L to R) Rodney Crowell by Sam Esty Rayner Photography; Emmylou Harris by Paul Natkin/Getty Images, circa 1997; Béla Fleck by Alan Messer

Béla Fleck Explains How ‘The Beverly Hillbillies’ Set Him on a Bluegrass Path

Béla Fleck came to the banjo in quite possibly the oddest way imaginable — via The Beverly Hillbillies when he was a kid. Hearing Scruggs-style banjo on “The Ballad of Jed Clampett” while watching television, he was instantly smitten and fell in love with the sound. But he chose not to tell anyone.

“It would have made no sense to anybody else why I liked it so much, but it just took my breath away,” Fleck remembers. “It was this odd moment at my grandparents’ house, watching TV with my brother even though he doesn’t remember it at all. I never thought I could actually play that. It seemed impossible, not within human grasp.”

Afterward, Fleck got his mom to teach him enough guitar to play folk songs casually. He liked playing guitar, although it did not fire his imagination. But after his grandfather saw him playing guitar, he came upon a banjo at a garage sale and bought it for his grandson, who was 15 and about to start high school.

“Just this flukey thing,” Fleck says with a laugh. “’Here, you like stringed instruments, this was at a garage sale.’ I would never have had the nerve to buy one myself, and he bought it for me not even knowing my interest in it. Bringing it home on the train, I ran into a guy who asked if I knew how to play. I didn’t, so he tuned it in G, handed it back to me and I never put it down. Got a Pete Seeger book and got to work. It was a really profound thing and I became Type-A obsessed. Still am. I’m always thinking about it.”

That work ethic never changed, either. Bob Burtman was an early roommate of Fleck’s in Somerville, Massachussetts, in the late 1970s and recalls Fleck as the perfect roommate.

“Either he was off making money, or he’d be there endlessly practicing,” Burtman says. “He was so dedicated, you just knew how good he was gonna be. There was a mattress on the floor and he’d sit there playing scales for hours. Not typical scales, either — diatonic, weird Eastern European, just everything. Up and down, up and down. Word got around and people started hearing about him and dropping by to jam — people like Tony Trischka, Mark Schatz. I got to hang out and listen, which was fabulous. Béla soon moved on to bigger and better things, like his own apartment.”

Over the decades, Fleck has covered a lot of ground both literally and figuratively. He traveled to Africa to explore the African origins of banjo with the 2008 project Throw Down Your Heart and has also played jazz and classical as well as bluegrass with groups including New Grass Revival and his own Flecktones, winning 14 Grammy Awards. His most recent Grammy Award came in 2015, claiming best folk album for Béla Fleck and Abigail Washburn, made with his spouse and musical fellow traveler.

Strangely enough, however, he actually hasn’t done all that much straight-up bluegrass over the years. His latest album My Bluegrass Heart is a star-studded affair featuring notables old and new including Sam Bush, Michael Cleveland, Jerry Douglas, Billy Strings, Chris Thile, Molly Tuttle, and Sierra Hull. It’s just his third bluegrass album, and first in more than 20 years. But the timing does not feel coincidental.

“I always thought there’d be a time when I would want to do more bluegrass,” he says. “Growing up, it’s a great training ground before you spread your wings. Any great bluegrass musician has done that, pushed the edge, but they tend to want to come back when they realize how special the basic root is. Well, we had some family issues, my son got sick and we almost lost him. Once we knew he’d be okay, what to do then? Maybe it was feeling a lack of control, but I wanted to play music where I knew what to do rather than explore the unknown. I needed to connect with where I’d started, and the bluegrass community is one of the most beautiful things. You’re never alone when you play it.

“You know, I remember seeing Ricky Skaggs after he’d become a big country star, coming back to a bluegrass festival,” he adds. “He was this legit big star, and he played with eight bands that day. Bluegrass was still a part of him and servicing that part of himself and that community was important to him. That made a real impression. It’s important to me, too.”

Editor’s note: Read about more about our Artist of the Month, Béla Fleck, here.


Photo credit: Alan Messer

Béla Fleck: “It’s Clear to Me That Bluegrass Is Still My Defining Element”

Novelist Thomas Wolfe famously declared that you can’t go home again. But then again, Wolfe is not remembered as a musician who played bluegrass, a style that’s all about going home again.

So it is that Béla Fleck’s new album is a homecoming, and an ambitious one at that. A third installment in Fleck’s long-running bluegrass trilogy, My Bluegrass Heart (Renew/BMG Records) is his first bluegrass album of this century. It’s a double-disc effort with an all-star cast – from old hands like Sam Bush and Jerry Douglas to new stars including Sierra Hull, Molly Tuttle, Chris Thile, Billy Strings, and more – with a running time not much shorter than the first two volumes put together.

“It’s hard to get around,” Fleck says. “As much as I may pretend to be something else, I am bluegrass at heart and that’s okay. It’s something I’m proud of and have come to embrace more as time goes on. Part of that is aging – do something when you’re young and you may not want that to be what defines you. Bluegrass just seemed like too obvious a pigeonhole for a banjo player when I was starting out and there was so much other music I loved, too. But after a lot of exploring, it’s clear to me that bluegrass is still my defining element.”

The album title of My Bluegrass Heart is actually a riff on an unexpected source, the late jazz pianist Chick Corea, a sometime collaborator of Fleck’s. One of Fleck’s favorite Corea albums was 1976’s My Spanish Heart, an ironic title because Corea was of Italian rather than Spanish descent.

“He was a guy from Boston with a natural affinity for Latin music, which was central to who he was even though he did not have legit entry in terms of ethnicity,” Fleck says. “That resonates for me. I’m from New York, of Eastern European and Russian descent with no natural connection to folk or bluegrass. So I’m defining myself with music that’s not necessarily my heritage, but being an outsider helps you bring new things to the idiom. When I go off to study Indian music, I can come back and write this album’s ‘Vertigo,’ which has very Indian rhythmic devices. Finding a way to insert Indian music or jazz or classical into bluegrass is very satisfying.”

The roots of My Bluegrass Heart go all the way back to Fleck’s first bluegrass album, 1988’s Drive, which he made with a core group including Bush, Douglas, Stuart Duncan, Mark Schatz, and most notable of all the late great guitarist Tony Rice (to whom the new album is dedicated, along with Corea). That same cast appeared on the 1999 follow-up, The Bluegrass Sessions: Tales From the Acoustic Planet, Vol. 2.

Had Fleck had his way, the same crew would have convened for volume three, and it would have come out many years ago. But the holdup was Rice, the troubled but brilliant guitarist who died in 2020 on Christmas day after years of health struggles.

“Playing bluegrass with Tony Rice was such a profound, dramatic upgrade from anything I’d ever experienced before,” Fleck says. “I wanted to do it again and reached out a lot over the years, but there was no response. I was puzzled and disappointed. Hurt, even. But come to find out that a lot of his other friends were going through the same thing with him as he started to isolate. He was not confident about playing anymore, so he shut it down and withdrew. And at a certain point, I heard about some close musician friends of mine who were starting to have hand problems. I thought, ‘If I don’t do this soon, some people I want to play with might not be able to anymore.’”

To that end, Fleck convened the surviving cast from his first two bluegrass forays, while adding young guns like Strings and Tuttle as well as other longtime pals including Tony Trischka, David Grisman, and Michael Cleveland. There’s plenty of firepower throughout these 19 tracks, especially on “Slippery Eel” — the first-ever studio work featuring the pairing of Strings and Thile. Fleck did his best to come up with something that would challenge those two, but notes that, “Of course they made it look easy.”

All 19 tracks are instrumentals, with a conservatory feel akin to Punch Brothers (several of whom appear) or the Kruger Brothers. But there are vocals of a sort, between-song quips and jokes by various players.

“This is such a community record and I thought it’d be cool for people to know this bluegrass community through these voices,” Fleck says. “You know, Sierra Hull talking, Tony Trischka and Jerry Douglas laughing, Sam Bush being silly, David Grisman being David Grisman. I think people in the bluegrass world will know every voice. When I’d play the record for people, they would always tell me, ‘I hope you keep that stuff in. It really humanizes it.’ I’m really excited and satisfied with everything about this record. The community aspect, hearing everybody play and talk, makes me happy. It’s like a love letter to the bluegrass community. If there’s ever been any doubt I love this music, there’s this.”

Editor’s note: Read about more about our Artist of the Month, Béla Fleck, here.


Photo credit: Alan Messer