Tag: Black voices

Folk Hero Reggie Harris Faces a Moment of Reckoning ‘On Solid Ground’

Posted on by Justin Hiltner

Reggie Harris is a songwriter, storyteller, educator, and folk icon. No, literally. This year, Harris was awarded The Spirit of Folk Award from Folk Alliance International — as well as W.E.B. Du Bois Legacy Award by the Du Bois Legacy Festival in Great Barrington, Mass. His career as a folksinger has spanned four decades, with musical collaborators and activist compatriots such as Pete Seeger, Dr. Kim Harris, C.T. Vivian, Cathy Fink & Marcy Marxer, Greg Greenway, David Roth, and many more. BGS is proud to host Harris on the sixth episode of our Shout & Shine livestream series on Wednesday, June 23 at 4pm PDT / 7pm EDT. (Tune in here via the video player below, our YouTube channel, or our Facebook page.)

The joy and hope evident in Harris’ 2021 release, On Solid Ground, stem from a rooted sense of perseverance and from his intentional decision to face each and every moment, in the moment, and to find hope within each. It’s why such heavy topics don’t feel gargantuan or burdensome as they make appearances and anchor songs on the album. Harris, watching the social, political, and racial reckonings that bubbled onto the sidewalks and streets of every city in America over the course of the last year, didn’t sit down or give up in the face of the unclimbable summit of translating that reckoning into song. 

Instead, Harris draws upon the wisdom, insight, and hope given to him by his own elders and communities throughout On Solid Ground. In choosing to keep himself open in each moment, Harris found himself receiving inspiration, nuggets of ideas and stories, glimpses of songs and arrangements in so many of those moments, simply because he was there, with a still heart and still soul, to receive them.

On Solid Ground feels solid and grounded, but also soars – unencumbered by whatever aspects of its content and lyrics might be perceived as pitfalls or minefields to so many. Harris, as only a folksinger-storyteller can, weaves a reality that can indeed rise to the occasion of this twenty-first century civil rights movement. We just have to choose to be present to usher in that reality — which, it’s important to note, will have an excellent soundtrack.

BGS caught up with Reggie Harris over the phone on May 28, Memorial Day weekend and the 100th anniversary of the Tulsa Massacre.

BGS: I wanted to start off with “It’s Who We Are,” which leads off the album. It makes the point that the political and social turmoil of the last few years aren’t really anything new, but rather are pretty natural outgrowths of who we’ve always been — as a culture and as a society. I wonder if you could talk a little bit about why you wanted to reinforce that point and kick off your album with that song? You’re making the point that this isn’t an aberration, this is who we are. 

RH: [Laughs] I do a lot of work, a lot of educational and historical performing — both in schools and around the country — and the question always comes up, with audiences of all ages, “How far have we come?” And, “Who are we?” These things happen around the country, incidents like George Floyd and Breonna Taylor, and also the incident in New York City with the Coopers — Amy Cooper and [Black birder, Christian Cooper]. People are constantly tweeting as if [these incidents] are one-offs, that each is an aberration. So I’d been working on writing a song for a while that basically says our nation was founded with white supremacy and racial issues from the very beginning. And we have been struggling with that. Obviously, we have made some progress over time, but we see that these things are so temporary — and the proliferation of them over the last two years particularly, and through the pandemic, really brought it to the fore. 

I kept looking at all of that, and I started writing that song– I’m not a writer that likes to just put things out there, constantly pointing out all the difficult and sometimes dangerous events. I love to tie into hope and I couldn’t talk my way through it. I wrote about twenty-seven verses. And it was getting more and more dark all the time! [Laughs] 

Even this week, we’re acknowledging the massacre in Tulsa, Oklahoma, a hundred years ago. All of those — there are so many of those incidents and events, I really wanted to say, “Yes. This is our legacy, this really is who we are.” But, there is something about what is happening, particularly with young people, particularly in the last year. So, when I saw people flooding into the streets all across the nation, in Portland, Louisville, and all these places I saw the diversity of faces and the diversity of ages. I thought, “You know, something has changed.” We’ve had a lot of false starts in our nation, but that became the critical point when I sing, “Yes, we can change! / Reshape the future of our reality.” We can define ourselves. Any way we choose to.

I have to admit, when I finished recording the song, I turned to Greg Greenway, my co-producer, and said, “I don’t know if I want to put this first.” [Laughs] We went back and forth and back and forth and finally — I was actually going to begin with Malvina Reynolds’ “It Isn’t Nice” and Greg turned to me one day and said, “No, this is the album statement. I think we gotta just put it out there.” And I said yes, and there you go! You need to have some courage in the work that you do. I’ve been looking to people like C.T. Vivian and John Lewis and all the sacrifices that people like Fannie Lou Hamer made. And all the amazing icons of civil rights history. 

As I was thinking about this point — that this is exactly who we are and always have been — I was listening to “Let’s Meet Up Early,” and there’s a lyric, “It ain’t no mystery… don’t try to act surprised.” 

[Laughs]

So this is a point you are making indelibly across the record! [Laughs]

Yes, well it is. And this came out of about three weeks of just sitting at home, watching the nation unravel. I wrote “On Solid Ground,” because that’s kind of where I live, you know, in the spirituals, saying that we can make it through this, we can persevere. But we can’t make it through it if we don’t acknowledge it. 

Exactly.

I’m glad you bring up perseverance, because something I find striking about the record is that even though the songs do feel that they carry strong messages and morals, and explicit calls for justice and equity — and perseverance — they don’t feel too heavy, they don’t feel burdened by the gravity of the issues they confront. Like, “Maybe It’s Love” is very whimsical and wry and sweet. And you just mentioned “On Solid Ground,” which is gorgeous, but really also fun, a cappella, bouncy and bubbly with cheer. How do you strike that balance, when you’re thinking about writing music that has a strong sense of conviction like this, but you do want it to also evoke hope and joy?

I feel very blessed to have come up in a community in Philadelphia and throughout that demonstrated having hope. The folks that I grew up with, in Philadelphia, my elders, and then as I progressed not only as a person, but as a musician I have had such amazing [role models]. If you look at the musicians — and all those folks in my community, they’d sing, “Ain’t gonna let nobody turn me ‘round!” And, “Oh, Freedom:” “Before I’d be a slave/ I’d be buried in my grave/” 

One day we will be free. And we’re going to keep working at this. 

We had C.T. Vivian at a conference I helped to put on in 2015 and he said, “We knew that we were working for something bigger than ourselves. We knew that we needed to have good leadership — and we did. We knew that we were working in the frame of love. For something, not against.” I try to keep those messages at the forefront of my writing, at the forefront of my performing. I know that a lot of white Americans have trouble embracing a lot of this because it brings up a lot of guilt, or it brings up this feeling there’s this huge thing you weren’t aware of. I just want to say to people: There are forces and systems that are trying to make sure you don’t know about this stuff. You’re not to blame for not knowing, but once you know — I think it was Maya Angelou that said, “When you know better you do better.” [Laughs] 

I look at that and my own role in this is just to pass along what was given to me. I came up in a community that understood the nature of perseverance, that understood the nature of hope and working towards hope realizing that you’re not going to get everything at once. But, you might get some of it and then you pass that along. I think the songs, for me, are conduits to giving away this gift that I’ve been given. As I write I just always try to remember that people always gave me hope – and they did it mostly through songs. 

As I was reading some of the song inspirations and contexts in the liner notes, I noticed you seem to really keep yourself so open to inspiration and new song ideas. You mention that “Come What May” came to you right after one of your regular livestreams and you began writing “Tree of Life” you were teaching. How do you keep your mind — and your heart — open to those kernels of inspirations, when new song ideas present themselves to you?

I’m not a writer who’s working at it all the time. I know friends of mine, folks who sit down every day and they either write a song or they tape something. I’ve never been that way, I really have kind of evolved into a person who’s eyes-wide-open in the moment. I’m very much focused on what’s happening around me and focused on noticing those opportunities. That’s one of the things that doing a lot of work with kids [has honed]. You really have to be present with kids. [Laughs] You come in with an idea of what you want to do, but if it feels at all like you aren’t including them or that you aren’t present, they’ll entertain themselves! I think I’ve developed a real sense of being in the moment, being charged with seeing those small windows of opportunity. Of course, I had a lot more of them in the pandemic! [Laughs] At home an unbelievably impressive amount of time. 

A lot of it is also balancing. I’m very careful not to watch the news early in the day. I think my liver transplant, in 2008, really shifted me, in a way. It changed the temperature of my observations in the world. I think that it’s really benefited my writing, because as I approach life living hour by hour, I notice things. I live out in the country, so I have time and atmosphere to hear myself think. Particularly with the time I started writing the album, right at the end of March [2020]. I’m kind of in my own element, I’m watching, carefully and selectively, what’s happening in the world, but I’m also in an environment where my heart and soul could get quiet. I love what happens when those two things occur. It allows me to then go to that other place and to find the message. 

A lot of times when you start to write a song, you think you know what you’re going to say. [Laughs] And the song has another idea altogether! It might be pulling things out of your subconscious you might have been working on for months — or years! It could be a thought I jotted down in my journal, or some phrase that I had been playing with. I think, for several of the songs, I was doing these online performances and it could just be the look in some peoples’ eyes as I sang a song. Or some comment someone would leave. Someone once said, “I wasn’t going to tune in, but you look hopeful.” I thought, “Wow, what a responsibility.” I try to carry that responsibility and be accountable for not making things… harder than the world. 

Lead photo: Courtesy of Reggie Harris
Inset photo: Anthony Salamone

Guitarist Yasmin Williams’ Techniques Are Second Only to Her Songs

Posted on by Justin Hiltner

Guitarists spend lifetimes — often gleefully, sometimes manically, or at times frustratingly — finessing techniques, especially with their picking hand. Entire careers can be made or broken by the idiosyncrasies of one picker’s striking and sounding strings. Fingerstyle guitarist and composer Yasmin Williams has mastered myriad forms of right-hand styles, each complicated enough for multiple lifetimes’ worth of study. But she doesn’t merely alternate techniques between pieces; to a transcendentally perplexing degree she effortlessly alternates her entire picking hand approach mid-song.

On her 2021 release, Urban Driftwood, a collection of thoughtful, dynamic, and engaging instrumentals written for fingerstyle guitar and harp guitar, Williams makes many of these technique-swaps while the compositions charge forward, each one earning tailor-made right-hand approaches. As a result, the songs don’t feel encumbered when Williams, mid-melody, goes from right hand fingerstyle to bowing her strings with a cello bow, or plunking out notes on a kalimba taped to her guitar’s face, now positioned laying across her lap. She utilizes hand percussion and tap shoes to fill out arrangements, interposing Afro-descended instruments from around the world into her compositions, and she picks up, puts down, and readjusts her stable of musical tools in realtime — as a foley sound effect artist, prop master, or choreographer might. 

In guitar-centered communities — which are, it’s worth pointing out, largely white, straight, and male — where the overwrought, complicated, and mind-bending are regarded as the highest value currencies, you might expect the intricacies of Williams’ compositions, and the physicality of these impressive, visually striking techniques, to be the entire point of the music. But, as Williams explains in our interview and demonstrates indelibly in her Shout & Shine livestream performance — which will air on BGS on March 31 at 4pm PDT / 7pm EDT  (watch above) — the acrobatics of her playing are merely a means to an end. While entrancing, each fresh, inventive way Williams creates a dialogue with her instrument is merely a tool for her to execute each individual song, as close to how she hears it in her head as possible.

We began our conversation discussing this phenomenon and how it’s an active, deliberate choice on the part of Williams to serve her own songs.

BGS: There isn’t nearly as much variation in right hand or picking techniques in bluegrass and old-time as you use – tap, lap tapping, fingerstyle, harp guitar, I’ve even seen you bowing your guitar. So many of these contemporary guitar styles that you switch back and forth between are so different from each other, so what ties them all together for you? What does it feel like when you’re thinking about switching between these styles?

YW: I don’t really think about it much at all! Unless it’s logistically for a live performance, like, “Oh, I need to put my bow here, I need to put my kalimba here.” That [stage choreography] is really the only context in which I think about it. These different techniques, I just use them for whatever the song requires. They’re more like compositional tools. It’s more like I’m trying to find the sound that’s in my head or I’m trying to find a sound that’s different from [how] my guitar [already sounds], something to supplement whatever I’m writing. It’s not really like, “I want to make a lap tapping song!” It’s not conscious like that. These techniques are kind of my inventions and I only really come up with them to well, finish the song, basically. 

I’ve never really been technique-forward – yeah, guitar culture is very nerdy and I’ve never been very into that, at least in terms of the techniques, I don’t usually care what people are doing. [Laughs] I care more about the result. However you choose to get there is cool, too! But I don’t really scout other people’s techniques or anything. 

It makes me think of Elizabeth Cotten, who you have mentioned in past performances and interviews as an influence of yours. She was left-handed and played “upside down and backwards,” playing the guitar the way she needed to play it. 

[Laughs] Yes! She just figured it out, she was determined! Elizabeth Cotten and Jimi Hendrix kind of served the same purpose for me. They’re both extremely unique, I love that about them, and they really didn’t care about how they were “supposed” to do things, they weren’t bogged down by tradition. Elizabeth Cotten, I love her because, somewhat obviously, she’s a Black woman who plays guitar fingerstyle, which is very cool — and banjo, too. How she played, I can’t figure it out! It’s fun to figure out and to watch, but it’s even cooler to not watch her play and just listen. All of her tunes are so catchy. She’s great, I’d love to be as great of a songwriter as her one day, hopefully.

Some of the songs on Urban Driftwood feel so huge and expansive, but some feel so introspective and meditative, despite the fact that most tracks have very similar, stripped down, simple instrumentation and arrangements. It’s not a lot of production and arranging. How do you accomplish that dynamic range? What is your own dialogue with your instrument like during the creative process, during recording and writing?

That’s a really interesting question! But, I don’t know! [Laughs] Sorry to say that, but I really need to think more about this. 

Some songs, I definitely did want to be more introspective, like “I Wonder.” That was definitely one I wanted to be very intimate. And I did think about, in a live setting, how I wanted the song to feel more quiet and more intimate than other arrangements. “Swift Breeze” is another one I wanted to have an edgier sound. I don’t really think about it, I guess I’m just extremely tunnel-visioned. At the time of writing or recording a song I only think about what the song needs. Whatever that particular song that I’m working on in that moment needs. I didn’t think about live performance at all until after the album was already out and finished, which was probably not the best idea, [Laughs] I’m kind of regretting it now, but I’m working it out. 

I did think about the arrangement for “Urban Driftwood” a lot. I didn’t want to use tons of overdubs or multi-tracks on many of the songs [on the album], because I don’t really “believe” in it, I guess. That one, I wanted it to sound expansive, but also I wanted it to be able to work in a more intimate setting, too. But even so, I’m not really thinking about it that much.

The guitar, when you take it out of the context of the average player’s experience — which is usually playing with a pick and using three or four chords — when you remove it from that context so many new and exciting ideas have to start flowing, like when you pick up a bow instead of a pick. What is your experimentation like when you’re composing/writing?

I tend to repeat things I like over and over again. I can do that for hours. [Laughs] It’s a bit of a mess, it’s not the most efficient way to write something, but I can make up a melodic line that I really like and play it for hours and hours and hours. Other things will start to form while I’m playing that. Then I’ll record it, or write it down in notation, whatever I need to do to remember it. That process can go on for months before I even finish a song. 

I love experimenting. I love finding new, different things to use. Like a hammered dulcimer hammer or a bow or tap shoes, which are something else I use. Those were another example of problem solving. Now I’m into pedals a lot more so I’m experimenting with those, too. There are tons of great pedals out there, so it can be pretty difficult. It’s another world on its own! I’ve always been an experimental player, ever since I started playing. 

Who are you listening to now who inspires you? And who – you already mentioned Jimi Hendrix and Elizabeth Cotten – do you look to and who influences you from past generations? 

I kind of want to go back to where I’m from [in Northern Virginia], Chuck Brown is an influence — maybe not directly, I don’t really model my playing after his at all. He’s a guitar player from the D.C. area, he plays go-go music, a kind of regional style of music here. I’ve always loved him, from when I was a kid. 

Libba Cotten, obviously, is a huge influence. I wish I had known about her when I was younger. I think I could’ve saved a lot of time by not trying to be something I was never going to be. I really wanted to be a shredding, metal-type guitarist. I think that’s what I associated the guitar with–

Is that where the tapping came in? 

Yeah! 

That’s amazing. There are a lot of post-metal pickers in bluegrass! We have quite a few. 

[Laughs] I mean, I used to play Guitar Hero and that had so many rock songs and metal songs on it and tapping stuff. A bit of southern rock, too. But it was really rock- and male-centered and it would’ve been great to find Elizabeth Cotten sooner. That would’ve been great. I still like Paul Gilbert, I still like Buckethead, all of them, but it definitely would’ve been better if I had found Libba Cotten or Sister Rosetta Tharpe or Algia Mae Hinton sooner. 

Ah! I love Algia Mae, when you mentioned tap shoes earlier I immediately thought of her and the tradition of buck dancing and clogging connected to finger-picking. 

I know! I didn’t know anything about that until recently! I didn’t really know anything about that until the past couple of years, I’ve definitely gone down the rabbit hole of all of that now, though.

I guess I am listening to more guitar music these days than I ever have before. When I first started playing I didn’t really listen to any, because I didn’t really like it, the fingerstyle stuff and the technical stuff. Whatever you want to call it. But now, it’s great. There are a lot of contemporary players I really enjoy, I love Daniel Bachman’s stuff. [The band] The Americans have cool stuff. Chuck Johnson and Sarah Louise. There are a lot more people releasing music that isn’t just a derivative of what already exists in the guitar canon or in traditional guitar scenes. 

This topic has come up recently — in my interview with Jackie Venson and also with Sunny War — but more and more when I find myself engaging with contemporary guitar music, it’s made by women. To a degree, I think the music women are making in fingerstyle guitar and in “guitar culture” right now is just not what you hear like… in the halls at NAMM. As a queer person, I think I avoid guitar culture a lot because it feels so toxically masculine. Do you feel that, too?

Yeah, I feel that now that I’m in the scene more. When I released my first album — and before that, when I was just learning and coming up — I didn’t feel anything like that, because I think I just ignored it. I didn’t really care. (I still don’t really care.) [Laughs] There are nicer sections in the guitar world as well as more “competitive” or kind of douchey sections. [Laughs again] Like the guy who will turn my amp on, cause he thinks I can’t turn it on. That happens a lot. 

Looking ahead to the future, with vaccines rolling out and it feeling like we’re at this transition point from pre-COVID to the beginning of post-COVID — and you’re gaining so much momentum with this record even during the shutdown — what are you looking ahead to? And what does this transition from “before times” to “after times” feel like to you? 

I’m actually kind of thankful for it. It’s giving me time to reflect — not only on the album’s success, but it’s giving me time to not worry about shows. I can plan and build a team around me and become more “professional” [to be ready] when touring does start up and venues do start opening again. 

Creatively and musically I am all OVER the place! [Laughs] I’m writing a piece for a berimbau group called Projeto Arcomusical, the berimbau is an old, Afro-Brazilian instrument. I’m really excited for that, I can finally use my college degree and be a composer for once. I’m working with another group, based in NYC, called Contemporaneous, arranging songs from my new album for a summer concert, which is fun. I’m working on new music, trying to write more harp guitar stuff, playing my twelve-string guitar more. My head’s all over the place, really. 

I definitely feel a sort of rejuvenation now that I’ve gotten past the “WTF is going to happen?” Now I’m just like, “Whatever happens happens,” and I’ve gotta make new music!

Photo credit: Kim Atkins Photography

Chris Pierce Writes an Anthem for the Young, Black, and Beautiful

Posted on by Editor

Chris Pierce has cultivated a significant following in the Los Angeles area and beyond, usually writing soulful and emotional songs that have populated fifteen years’ worth of albums and appeared in TV shows like This Is Us. But in 2020, accompanied by little more than his 1949 Gibson J-45 (“Blondie”) or his 1973 Martin D-18 (“Doriella”), the California native recorded the album American Silence with a mission of social activism against racial disparities.

Pierce gained a love of language from his mother, an English teacher who taught at-risk youth. She introduced him to the lyrical writings of Shel Silverstein and Dr. Seuss, as well as essential writers like Langston Hughes and Walt Whitman. The economy of words in all of those authors is immediately evident in original compositions like “American Silence” and “It’s Been Burning for a While,” where Pierce gets his point across directly, and with power. His convictions are never more optimistically presented than in the album’s closing anthem, “Young, Black and Beautiful,” which details the experience of maturing from a cute little kid to a perceived threat.

Calling from Los Angeles, he had a lot to say about American Silence, which is poised to become one of the most resounding folk albums of 2021.

BGS: To me, “American Silence” is like a message from a folksinger to an audience. What was on your mind when you wrote the song?

Pierce: History and resilience, and that cycle of bad things happening and people becoming aware of those things. Jumping on the train of, “Let’s try to end this,” and doing what we can to create awareness about a problem. And then kind of fading away. That song, for me, I was thinking about being young and cuffed on the streets, and stopped for things, and how being a Black kid – and now a Black man – can sometimes feel like a crime in itself, just walking around.

I wanted to write a song that addressed complacency, and remind people like myself, and Black people, and anybody’s been oppressed, to never give up. And also, to remind songwriters and artists that it’s important to not give up on reaching out to people, even though it’s sometimes hard. It’s important to keep that fight going in whatever way you can. And it asks those folks: “Hey, you come to my shows, you say you support, but if something were actually happening to me and you saw it, would you do something? And are you willing to do something in your everyday life that would create a more positive experience for people who aren’t like you?” That’s the short answer. [Laughs]

What has been the response so far?

It’s been getting good response from folks who have had my albums through the years. I’ve been getting emails and notes, and I’ve gotten to speak for a couple of schools, which is great. I’ve been invited to speak at events and play songs, and I think it’s doing a little bit of what I wanted it to do — which is to open up the continued conversation. And through a song, let it be another reminder to not let this moment, and these horrific things that happen, and how appalled you are by them, fade into the distance.

Does it change the vibe in the room when you walk in with a guitar?

Yeah, you know, I’m not a petite individual. I’m 6’4” and I’m a big man! And I’m a Black man, and I think walking into a room with a guitar raises a few eyebrows, to where folks will want to listen to a few lines and open their hearts, and to hear what I have to say. It’s being a gentle giant — a man of stature and size, and having this sensitive heart. In a lot of ways, the core of who I am is somebody who really wants to make music and make a difference and spread love. To get into a room with a guitar and sing about our history, and some of the ways I think we could change for the better, is thrilling for me. I’m really looking forward to walking into more rooms soon to play live. I miss it so much!

“Sound All the Bells” is a call to action, too, but it’s also very personal. What’s that like for you to put those experiences in a song and then share it with people?

All of the songs from this album came out of me last year, and for me it was a moment of clarity. Here I was, at home, trying to be safe and responsible, and in a lot of ways being still forced my heart to open to some of these compartmentalized feelings that I tucked away over the years to survive – and face them in a way that I’ve never faced them before. …

“Sound All the Bells” is almost like a timeline through different experiences that I’ve personally gone through, but it also offers the message of, “You know, I consider myself one of the lucky ones, for getting broken ribs and thrown in jail and stabbed and shot at – I’m still here, to sing songs.” So, I want people to really consider that perspective, in hope that it encourages them to do something about it.

One of the lyrics is about seeing a cross burning in your yard when you were 5 years old. That’s a powerful image.

Yeah, throughout the years I’ve had little flashes of memories about that. And a couple of years ago, I was sitting at lunch with my mom, in the town where that happened. We were talking about how things have changed over the years, and she started walking me through exactly what happened, and what she and my late father felt, being the first interracial couple in the neighborhood and the pushback from that. That wasn’t the only instance of hate that they encountered. And once I came along, there was this protectiveness from both of them, having a young child.

When that happened, from my mother’s perspective, it was something that [told them] they had a choice. And their choice was to be strong and to carry on and stay in the house, and try to be an example of love and acceptance. And that’s what they did. I’m so proud of them. It’s one thing to go through that when you’re a kid, but it’s another thing to imagine young parents having that happen. I feel like, in a lot of way, that example of their strength and resilience carries on into who I am, and the kind of music I make. And just the fact that I keep going is part of that moment.

On this record, it’s essentially just you and the guitar. Why did you choose that approach?

A big part of it was the pandemic and wanting to be safe and responsible, and not add to the problem of people getting sick and dying. It made me want to set up a session like this. And the other thing was, I wanted the listeners to not have anything in the way, and to let the words sink in. I have some extremely talented friends and folks that I’m around that are incredible at their instruments, but instead of picking up the phone and calling them, which was very tempting, I just said, you know, let me sit down with a guitar and sing these truths. Sing them in a way that means something to me and see if that translates.

“Young, Black and Beautiful,” feels like an encore to me. You’re closing the album with a message of encouragement, and I think the strength of your voice is part of that, too. Why did you want to end the album with that song?

The song in general was inspired by reading a friend’s Instagram post. She was talking about her Black son and how he was getting to the age that instead of folks on the street saying, “He’s so cute,” it’s turning into folks feeling threatened by him. That got me thinking about my own history, and what happens in that pivotal moment as a Black child that people are starting to look at you differently. You start hearing doors lock and you see purses clenched, and people walking to the other side of the street.

I wanted to offer something that went along the lines of the old term from the ‘60s, that Black is beautiful. It doesn’t mean that other things are not beautiful! It’s just a reminder that Black is beautiful. It’s about Black self-love, and I feel like it’s a song that I have benefitted from hearing when I was that age. I also wanted it to feel like an anthem that people could sing along to.

And at the end, I wanted to hold the word “Black” as long as I could, to give an example that you should never be ashamed of your Blackness. Sing it loud! And give folks as many examples as you can of your authentic self. And walk on through all these things that you’ve experienced, and that I’ve experienced, and find a new purpose in each days, knowing that your authenticity makes you beautiful.

Photo credit: Mathieu Bitton

BGS Celebrates Black History Month (Part 2 of 2)

Posted on by Justin Hiltner

We invite our readers to celebrate Black History Month as we always do, by denoting that celebrating Black contributions in bluegrass, country, and old-time — and roots music as a whole — requires centering Black creators, artists, musicians, and perspectives in our community daily, not just in February.

Over the past year we’ve recommitted ourselves to fully incorporating Black Voices into everything we do and we hope that our readers and listeners, our followers and fans, and our family of artists constantly celebrate, acknowledge, and pay credit to Blackness and Black folks, who we have to thank for everything we love about American roots music.

Following a look back on our BGS Artists of the Month, Cover Story, and Shout & Shine subjects, we close our listicle celebration of Black History Month this year with a sampling of some of the most popular features, premieres, music videos, Friends & Neighbors posts, and 5+5 interviews that have featured Black, African American, and otherwise Afro-centric music. We are so grateful for the ongoing, vital contributions of Black artists, writers, creators, and journalists to American roots music and we’re proud to pay credit exactly where it’s due, in this small way.

Black history is American roots music history and all of these incredible folks certainly prove that point.

An edition of our Roots on Screen column featured an interview with Branford Marsalis and dove into his soundtrack for the new Netflix film based on August Wilson’s 1982 play, Ma Rainey’s Black Bottom.

Bona fide soul man Jerry “Swamp Dogg” Williams took us behind the scenes of his album, Sorry You Couldn’t Make It, showing humorous, casual, candid moments from the project’s creation — and giving us all the opportunity to be there, even though we “couldn’t make it.”

Sabine McCalla simply blew us away with her Western AF video session of an original, “Baby, Please Don’t Go,” last year, and we were ecstatic to include her on the BGS Stage lineup for Cabin Fever Fest last weekend, too.

Joy Oladokun’s vision and determination, and her unrelenting trust in both, paid off on a texturally varied second album, in defense of my own happiness (vol. 1), a self-produced exercise in vulnerability and subject of a feature interview. Oladokun will perform a few of her folk-pop songs as part of our Yamaha Guitars + BGS Spotlight Showcase during Folk Alliance’s virtual Folk Unlocked conference this week, as well.

The preeminent hip-hop-meets-bluegrass band, Gangstagrass, stopped by for a 5+5 and to plug their latest, No Time for Enemies. Gangstagrass were another excellent addition to our Cabin Fever Fest lineup and we look forward to being able to catch them in-person again, soon.

To mark Juneteenth 2020, we published a thoughtful round up of new movement music, a sort of patchwork soundtrack for protest, struggle, civil rights, and progress including songs by Leon Bridges, Chastity Brown, Kam Franklin (listen above), and more.

We were ecstatic to feature Valerie June, Rhiannon Giddens & Francesco Turrisi, Ben Harper, and Yola during our five-episode virtual online variety show, Whiskey Sour Happy Hour, last spring. The show raised over $50,000 for COVID-19 relief — through MusiCares and personal protective equipment via Direct Relief. WSHH season 2? We want that to happen, too! Stay tuned.

Pianist Matt Rollings’ collaboration with Americana-soul duo The War & Treaty was — UNDERSTANDABLY — a mini viral hit, taking off on our social media channels.

Rhiannon Giddens also powerfully and captivatingly warned all of us not to call her names with a new song recently: “The framework in the song is a love affair, but it can happen in any kind of connection,” she explained in a press release. “The real story was accepting my inner strength and refusing to continue being gaslit and held back; and refusing to keep sacrificing my mental health for the sake of anything or anyone.”

We visited once again with now mononymous Kenyan songwriter, Ondara, whose pandemic album, Folk n’ Roll Vol. 1: Tales of Isolation, kept many of us company during sheltering in place.

Speaking of which, Crys Matthews and Heather Mae didn’t let guidelines around social distancing keep them down, as evidenced on “Six Feet Apart.”

Our country-soul queen, Yola, wowed all of us with a Tiny Desk (Home) Concert and some acoustic renderings of her resplendent countrypolitan songs.

As did veteran bluesman Don Bryant, who after a lifelong career writing and recording earned his first Grammy nomination in 2020 for You Make Me Feel, a record that is nothing less than a physical incarnation of rhythm and blues. His Tiny Desk (Home) Concert is entrancing.

Selwyn Birchwood rightly reminded blues fans that it isn’t all sad; in fact, if you aren’t partying to the blues you’re doing it wrong. Just listen to “I Got Drunk, Laid and Stoned” to find out.

Leigh Nash and Ruby Amanfu joined forces on a Congressman John Lewis-inspired number entitled “Good Trouble” just last week, a perfect song to mark Black History Month.

Last year, to mark Women’s History Month (coming up again in March!) we spotlighted the huge influence and contributions of Elizabeth “Libba” Cotten, a folk singer and picker famous for playing her guitar left-handed — and upside down and “backwards!” Though Cotten spent most of her adult life working as a housekeeper, her original folksongs and her idiosyncratic picking style still inspire bluegrass, old-time, and blues musicians alike.

Country singer-songwriter Miko Marks returns this year with new music for the first time in thirteen years, after effectively being shut out of Music City and its country music machine because of her Blackness. A recent single release reclaims “Hard Times,” a song composed by Stephen Foster, who was an American songbook stalwart and folk music legend who performed in minstrel shows and in blackface.

Chris Pierce challenges his listeners with a new song this month, “American Silence,” because as he puts it, “It’s important to not give up on reaching out to those who have stayed silent for too long about the issues that affect those around us all.” A timely reminder to all of us — especially those of us who are allies and accomplices — as we approach the one-year anniversary of this most recent racial reckoning in the United States.

And finally, to close this gargantuan list — which is still just the tip of the iceberg of Black music in bluegrass, country, and Americana — we’ll leave you with a relative newcomer in country-soul and Americana, Annie Mack. Mack’s gorgeous blend of genres and styles is anchored by her powerful and tender voice and we were glad to be stopped in our tracks by her debut EP, Testify. 

Editor’s Note: Read part one of our Black History Month collection here.

Photo credit (L to R): Chris Pierce by Mathieu Bitton; Elizabeth Cotten; Annie Mack by Shelly Mosman.

BGS Celebrates Black History Month (Part 1 of 2)

Posted on by Justin Hiltner

At BGS, we firmly believe that Black history is American roots music history. Full stop.

Last year, following the extrajudicial murder of George Floyd and the civil unrest, protests, and rebellions against racial injustice and systemic inequality in this country, we realized that that belief wasn’t present enough in our daily content and editorial. We knew that it needed to be overt, expressed within every aspect of what we do.

Which is why this month, we’ve invited you to celebrate Black History Month as we always do, by denoting that celebrating Black contributions in bluegrass, country, and old-time — and roots music as a whole — requires centering Black creators, artists, musicians, and perspectives in our community daily, not just in February. (Though, for the entire month we’ve been sharing music, stories, and songs featuring Black artists every day, too!)

In the past year we’ve recommitted ourselves to fully incorporating Black Voices into everything we do and we hope that our readers and listeners, our followers and fans, and our family of artists constantly celebrate, acknowledge, and pay credit to Blackness and Black folks, who we have to thank for everything we love about American roots music. To bid adieu to Black History Month 2021, we’re spotlighting Black artists who have graced our pages in the last year in a two-part roundup.

Editor’s note: Read part two of our Black History Month celebration here.

Artists of the Month

Fresh off of an appearance at President Biden’s inauguration, Grammy nominees Black Pumas are our current Artist of the Month honorees, but they aren’t the only ones to hold down our most prestigious monthly series and editorial spotlight. Drawing on folk songwriting as much as soul groove, both men agree that the term “American Roots” fits their sound well. The Americana Music Association seconds that notion, as the duo picked up that organization’s Emerging Act of the Year award in late 2020.

Modern blues legend Shemekia Copeland was our Artist of the Month in November, when we celebrated her latest release, Uncivil War from Alligator Records. The song sequence offers quite a few topical numbers ranging from gun rights (“Apple Pie and a .45”) to LGBT affirmation (“She Don’t Wear Pink”). But a standout is certainly the title track, Copeland’s most bluegrassy foray yet, which features Sam Bush and Jerry Douglas

Song-interpreter extraordinaire Bettye LaVette held down the AOTM post in August, reminding us of the value of persistence, perseverance, and perspective – especially by Black women. Her interpretation of the ubiquitous “Blackbird” recalls the fact that Paul McCartney wrote the song about a Black woman (as British slang refers to a girl as a “bird”). In LaVette’s rendition, though, she is the one who’s been waiting… and waiting… and waiting for this moment to arrive. And, in a specific allusion to this moment in history, to be free.

On the Cover

Both country & western crooner Charley Crockett and old-time banjoist, fiddler, and ethnomusicologist Jake Blount graced our digital covers in the past year, demonstrating the width, depth, and breadth of Black contributions to American roots music across the country and drawing from various regions and traditions.

In our interview and on his most recent release, Crockett doesn’t just reckon with the current historical moment. With Welcome to Hard Times, which is comprised of 13 tracks of searing anguish set to slick, ’60s-style, country-western production, he’s also examining his own place in this moment, and how his music has a different impact with different audiences. Even as he — a man living somewhere between Black and white, privileged and not — feels that his message is obvious.

Queer old-time musician and scholar Jake Blount is intimately familiar with the history of Black artists in the twentieth century who spoke out against white supremacy and often paid for it with their lives. He sees his music — and his most recent album, Spider Tales — within that subversive, radical lineage, and rightly so. A critically acclaimed project that landed on seemingly dozens of year-end lists in 2020, Blount’s carefully curated tunes convey that racial inequality in this country is a long, self-feeding cycle and this current iteration of the civil rights movement was neither surprising nor unpredictable. In a year defined by music created in response to current events or simply passively shaped by them, Blount’s Spider Tales stands out, an example of action rather than reaction.

Last week, we celebrated the grand opening of the National Museum of African American Music in Nashville with a feature that explores the ways Music City has always been a major player in the African American music world — from the days of the Fisk Jubilee Singers to radio station WLAC breaking R&B, soul, and blues hits, and the Jefferson Street nightclub scene providing both valuable training for emerging artists and a vital showcase for established ones. The 56,000-square-foot museum, something of a musical equivalent to the the National Museum of African American History and Culture in Washington D.C. (definitely with the same level of visual splendor and attractiveness) is a testament to the Black, African American, and Afro contributions that have touched, impacted, and influenced every sphere of American pop culture and art.

The striking marquee of the National Museum of African American Music in Nashville, TN

The BGS Podcast Network

Over the course of the past year, the BGS Podcast Network has been proud to feature many Black artists over our shows about bluegrass, Americana, touring, wellness, and of course, music. On Harmonics season one, three Black women joined host Beth Behrs to talk about living through so much stress and tumult and how self-care, wellness, and music are all woven so tightly together.

Country singer and 2020 breakout star Mickey Guyton (who, for the record, has been a recording artist for more than a decade despite her recent meteoric rise) appeared on Episode 3, talking about writing “Black Like Me” — a song about her pain and struggles growing up as a Black woman in America — amidst the protests against police brutality across the nation. They also discuss country artists speaking out against racism and injustice, the power and importance of “three chords and the truth” in the midst of Music Row fluff, lifting other women up as a form of therapy, and, of course, Dolly Parton.

Two of Behrs’ closest friends, sisters Tichina & Zenay Arnold also appeared on the show. Tichina, Behr’s co-star on CBS’s The Neighborhood, and her sister are something like spiritual coaches for Beth. The three discuss the spirituality of music and the musicality of comedy, the timeliness of The Neighborhood as well as the pure spirit on the set, the absolutely necessity of open conversation in active anti-racism, balancing professional and familial relationships, and much more.

Finally, Birds of Chicago frontwoman and multi-instrumentalist Allison Russell decided to dig deep into her childhood traumas, the healing power of music and artistic community, the history of the banjo, and the intersectionality of the honest conversations in our culture on her episode of Harmonics. In addition to her career with Birds of Chicago, Russell is one quarter of the supergroup Our Native Daughters, with Rhiannon Giddens, Amythyst Kiah, and Leyla McCalla, and is preparing to release her first solo album.

On The Show On The Road, host Z. Lupetin curated a special episode last summer featuring clips and snippets from past editions of the show featuring Sunny War, Bobby Rush, Dom Flemons, and more. As he put it, “I’ve been lucky to talk with truly amazing Black artists, songwriters, and performers in the two years I’ve been creating The Show on the Road. I ask you to go back into our archives and listen to these voices.”

Later in the season, SOTR episodes featured Leyla McCalla — a talented, multilingual cellist, banjoist, and singer-songwriter and member of Our Native Daughters — and a special podcast swap with Under The Radar featuring truly fantastic Oakland-based artist, Fantastic Negrito. And just a couple of weeks ago, the show dropped an episode honoring Black History Month, featuring an interview with Jimmy Carter and Ricky McKinnie of the legendary Blind Boys of Alabama.

Plus, on the String, Craig Havighurst interviewed new lead singer for the Time Jumpers, Wendy Moten, and southern Gothic poet, songwriter, and Americana-blues wizard Adia Victoria.

And, not to be left out,  the BGS Radio Hour always includes music, premieres, and features of Black artists every week, as we round-up the best stories from our pages to include on the airwaves. Like this week, Allison Russell’s Sade cover and Valerie June’s cosmic new single, “Call Me a Fool” — which features Stax soul legend Carla Thomas — both appear on the show. And, on Episode 194, Chris Pierce, our Whiskey Sour Happy Hour friend Ben Harper, and Charley Crockett all make the playlist as well.

Shout & Shine

Our annual IBMA showcase celebrating representation and diversity in 2020 focused entirely on Black performers, building upon our collaboration with PineCone, who co-presents the event each year. Brandi Pace of Decolonizing the Music Room curated the lineup, showing our audience how seamlessly our missions intersect and build off of each other. The showcase lineup included Rissi Palmer, Tray Wellington, Stephanie Anne Johnson, Jerron “Blind Boy” Paxton, and more, drawing a direct line between Black musicians and bluegrass while highlighting the important role Black folks played in the genre’s creation as well as influencing all of its contemporary forms.

To build on this intention, we retooled our monthly column version of Shout & Shine as well, turning the interview series into a regular livestream event. Sponsored by Preston Thompson Guitars, each episode includes thirty-plus minutes of exclusive performances by Lizzie No, Sunny War, Julian Taylor, and Jackie Venson with more to come. Each set of music — and each interview as well — reinforces just how vibrant and varied roots music created by Black musicians and songwriters can be and just how valuable the perspectives and lived experiences of all kinds of people are to our communities.

Editor’s note: Read part two of our Black History Month celebration here.

Photo credit (L to R): Shemekia Copeland by Mike White; Rissi Palmer courtesy of the artist; Bettye LaVette by Joseph A. Rosen; and Mickey Guyton by Chelsea Thompson.

WATCH: Amythyst Kiah, “Black Myself”

Posted on by Editor

Artist: Amythyst Kiah
Hometown: Johnson City, Tennessee
Single: “Black Myself”
Release Date: February 19, 2021
Label: Rounder Records

In Their Words: “‘Black Myself’ is the first song I’ve written that was confrontational. I’d always made it a point to sing songs that anybody could relate to, but this was something that had been welling up inside me for a long time. The reception of the song so far has given me hope that there are people out there who are ready to confront the shared trauma of racism, to look within ourselves and see how we might be perpetuating racist beliefs, and to do what is needed to create equality for all people.” — Amythyst Kiah

Photo credit: Sandlin Gaither

LISTEN: Tania Joy, “Planks and Marietta”

Posted on by Editor

Artist: Tania Joy
Hometown: Uxbridge, Ontario
Single: “Planks and Marietta”
Release Date: February 16, 2021

In Their Words: “’Planks and Marietta’ is a song I needed to write about the difficult relationship between me and racism. I’ve always needed to talk about it, but I rarely have. George Floyd brought it all back, and now after a very dark period I am able to start the conversation, even if it’s only with myself, in ‘Planks and Marietta’. The title taken from a racist incident that occurred at two cross streets in my hometown, is a call out to many others in many towns all over the world. It’s my protest song about all of the little stories that get swept under the rug until they can no longer be ignored.” — Tania Joy

Photo credit: Tracy Walker Photography

This Nashville Museum Shows the Vital Role of Black Music in American History

Posted on by Editor

Nashville’s “Music City” nickname has always been broader and more inclusive than the national impression, which largely has been built on two things: the city’s impressive country music legacy and its equal importance as a hub for the general music business, with major emphasis on recording and publishing. But what hasn’t been as well recognized and celebrated, at least by those outside particular communities in Nashville, is its contribution to numerous other idioms and its role in their evolution and development.

Hopefully that’s going to change with the new National Museum of African American Music (NMAAM), now open across the street from the historic Ryman Auditorium in downtown Nashville. The Fifth and Broadway entrance to NMAAM and its proximity to one of the nation’s music shrines couldn’t be more appropriate, and it is notable that the museum isn’t located in one of the sites better known as a Black music hotbed such as Detroit, New York, Los Angeles or even Memphis. Nashville has always been a major player in the African American music world, from the days of the Fisk Jubilee Singers to radio station WLAC breaking R&B, soul and blues hits, and the Jefferson Street nightclub scene providing both valuable training for emerging artists and a vital showcase for established ones.

However, the museum isn’t focused mainly or wholly on Nashville, nor any single city or musical style. The 56,000-square-foot entity aims to spotlight the entirety of the music made in this nation by Blacks, to demonstrate its impact on the totality of American sounds, and to celebrate its history and multiple influences. As CEO/president Henry Hicks repeatedly told media members who attended tours in January, “We’re showing how music through the prism of the Black experience has played a vital role in the growth of this country and how it’s affected every fabric of the culture.”

The sleek, architecturally striking building has the same visual splendor and attractiveness as the National Museum of African American History and Culture in Washington D.C. Upon entrance, visitors to NMAAM will be immediately drawn to the central corridor that’s billed as the Rivers of Rhythm. It features touch panel interactive exhibits, something that’s a recurring sight throughout the halls housing exhibits and other items designed to showcase 50 genres and sub-genres of Black music.

The corridor leads into The Roots Theater, which is actually where the museum tour formally begins. There’s an introductory film presentation that provides the African background and heritage of the various exhibits. It also offers a cinematic shorthand of what visitors later see presented in more exacting, visually striking manner: the multiple sounds and styles of notable Black music creators and performers. The theater seats approximately 190, and in later weeks and months will serve as the location for various screenings, lectures, music performances, and concerts.

The different genre exhibitions feature everything from more interactive exhibits with timelines to cases containing such items as one of Louis Armstrong’s trumpets, one of B.B. King’s “Lucille” guitars, or costumes worn on key nights by performers like Billie Holiday, Nat “King” Cole, Ella Fitzgerald, Ray Charles, or Aretha Franklin. The museum doesn’t neglect any area of Black music, going from the earliest spirituals to pre-jazz, traditional and modern jazz, blues, R&B/soul, funk, disco, and into contemporary hip-hop and EDM. There’s also a detailed storyboard for every idiom.

The greatest examples of Black music influencing other idioms that are sometimes mistakenly assumed not to have any links with African Americans can be seen in the Crossroads section. It includes an essay that traces how country founding fathers like Jimmie Rodgers and Hank Williams were influenced by the blues, and how the acoustic guitar playing of people like Sister Rosetta Tharpe and the gospel-tinged shouting of Odetta in turn influenced white folkies like Joan Baez and Bob Dylan.

One of Chuck Berry’s biggest hits, “Maybellene,” was a reworked version of Bob Wills’ “Ida Red” with new lyrics, while certainly Elvis Presley, Carl Perkins, Jerry Lee Lewis and other white rock ‘n’ roll and rockabilly types were performing a hybrid of country, blues, and R&B. In both cases, as well as early string band music played by white and Black performers, these artists were hearing and creating a fresh sound based on their love of multiple genres, which the Crossroads section reflects in text and exhibits.

Along the way, depending on your musical preferences, you’re able to become an active part of the experience. There’s a disco dance room that inserts a neon silhouette onto the wall. You can construct your own blues song, improvise within a personal jazz composition, become part of a gospel choir, or craft your own freestyle raps. Any or all of this activity is recorded on a personal RFID wristband and automatically uploaded so that it can be shared online with friends, assuming you really want those efforts heard by others.

But most importantly, the mission, one frequently cited by tour guides and reinforced through the various exhibits, displays, and films, is Black music’s cross-generational links and the way it’s been both a voice of protest and a force for unity across diverse backgrounds. The role music played both in rallying Blacks into the World War II effort and helping inspire and fortify the Civil Rights Movement are just two parts of that underlying joint theme.

Whether it’s “One Nation Under a Groove” or “A Love Supreme,” regardless of spiritual or secular content, Black music has been at the core and forefront of American culture. No single building better exemplifies and reveals that than the National Museum of African American Music. No matter what kind of music you love, or even if you’re tone deaf, this museum will have something of value for you to see, hear and enjoy, as well as valuable lessons to learn and history to remember.

Photo Credit: NMAAM/353 Media Group

From Homemade Tapes to Hip Hop, Black Pumas Share Their Influences (2 of 2)

Posted on by Editor

Heading into the Grammy Awards this year, Black Pumas are competing for three trophies, two of them in high-profile categories. Their breakout single, “Colors,” is up for Record of the Year, while Black Pumas (Deluxe Edition) will vie for Album of the Year. Their third nod, with “Colors” in the Best American Roots Performance category, reflects the duo’s affinity for soul and folk music, as well as the way they blend genres without losing the groove or the message. The recognition also follows their 2020 win from the Americana Music Association as Emerging Act of the Year.

From their home base in Austin, Texas, Black Pumas’ Eric Burton and Adrian Quesada caught up with BGS by phone, speaking about the music that shaped them, trusting their instincts, and the message they’d like to send out in 2021.

Editor’s Note: Read part one of our Artist of the Month interview with Black Pumas.

BGS: One of my favorite songs on this album is “Fire.” To me, it has a message of encouragement. What sparked the idea to write that song?

Eric: “Fire” was one of the tracks that Adrian first sent me. Adrian has such a brilliant way of making music that feels almost visual and vivid, almost cinematic, so when I got it, I couldn’t help but be moved to allow the song to inspire lyrics. At the time I was living with a girlfriend who was going through some health issues. She had an autoimmune deficiency and I was encouraging her to call on me. That you don’t have to feel like you’re overbearing or too much was the message that I made universal on the song “Fire.”

And lastly, with that song specifically, the funny thing was, before this I had never sung to another man on the phone. But this was one of the first songs that I was inspired to write lyrics to. When I get an idea, I like to show my friends almost right away. I called Adrian right away, not even meeting him yet. I called him and I said, “Hey, man, check this out!” I turned the song up and I started singing the melody and a few lyrics here and there, showing where it was moving, so I could integrate the space. It was really interesting to show Adrian that, and I was glad we were able to finalize the idea.

Adrian, what was going through your mind when you heard Eric sing in person, in the same room at the same time?

Adrian: Goosebumps. Trying to play it cool and not get too excited. I tried to play it off, but yeah, I knew that it was going to be a special thing, but I hadn’t heard it in the room. There was obviously a spark there, so it was just a matter of containing my enthusiasm and not getting too ahead of anything — until I finally broke down and said, “All right, man, we have to play this stuff live. Are you into doing that?” And he was like, “Yeah, let’s do it.”

It seems like you guys are in tune with your instincts. How important has that been to the success of Black Pumas?

Eric: It’s hard to put too much pressure on ourselves regarding what others are going to think about us. As opposed to trusting how easy it is to know what moves you first. It’s much more of an easygoing experience making music if you’re doing it to move yourself, knowing that what moves you has a really good chance of moving someone else. As Adrian mentioned earlier, when we started making music together, it was to have fun. We really dug what we were doing and we just kept doing it, and it turned into what it is now. Regardless if anyone was listening to the music or not, we would probably be making music every other week or so, because we enjoy doing it together. Hopefully like what we having coming up next, but if not, I think we’ll still be making music. It won’t crush it.

Adrian, who are some of your favorite guitarists?

Adrian: I personally have gravitated more toward rhythm players, and the finesse and nuance that goes into something like that. Recently I’ve been getting into Cornell Dupree, who played on thousands of recording sessions. He was in Aretha Franklin’s band for a long time and played with Donnie Hathaway and all the classic soul recordings. He’s an unsung hero of the instrument, and of the genre, too, because he didn’t always get all the shine. I don’t know if you saw that Aretha movie, Amazing Grace, from a few years ago that finally saw the light of day. I saw him playing on there and it was like, “Oh, man!” He never got that much attention, but I just started going down the rabbit hole of looking up YouTube videos.

Eric, I read that you grew up listening almost exclusively to gospel music. Is that right?

Eric: Not necessarily. My family comes from the church, and my grandparents were missionaries, so it was part of what was around, but for the most part, my family are also very artistic – musicians and writers. I would listen to my uncle write songs. He would pull out tubs and tubs of little tapes, and I would pop in one of his tapes once in a while and listen to his songwriting process. As a young kid, that was one of my toys, if you will. That’s pretty much how I learned to write music, listening to an uncle who had a really heavy hand in raising me, bringing me up, especially as an artist. For the most part, I would either hear whatever was on the radio in California, but most intimately it was through my uncle’s songmanship and his songwriting.

Adrian, who did you grow up listening to?

Adrian: I grew up listening to whatever was on MTV. I was really influenced by that. I was an only child and I was home by myself a lot. I grew up in South Texas and didn’t have a lot of places to get music from. So, when I discovered MTV, it turned me on to a lot of stuff, everything from hair rock bands to Nirvana and that whole sound. But the one thing I was really into, that had the biggest influence, is hip hop music, which I discovered through one of my neighbors who would always be playing stuff outside when they would be playing basketball. … I don’t know exactly what it was about the sound of hip-hop, but as I discovered the source of a lot of it, there was jazz and soul and funk at its core. And later on, I started getting into that music. I realized there was *that* underneath, hiding there for me to discover.

Looking ahead, what would be the best-case scenario for you in 2021? What would you hope that this year brings for you?

Eric: That we get to continue to create time and space to do exactly what we really love to do, which is to create music. We’re very fortunate that we’re seeing the opportunities we’re seeing now because people are buying the music and supporting us. Individually I look forward to creating more with Adrian, one, and also I just bought a house so I look forward creating somewhat of a studio set-up to can get into production myself.

Adrian: Yeah, I’ll second that — just the opportunity to put some new music to tape and get some out this year.

Eric: Lastly, I’ll speak for both of us briefly and say thank you [to our fans]. Thank you so much for listening to our music, for supporting us. We miss you guys, we love you guys. You guys fuel our passion and we look forward to continuing to be honest in the studio, together, that we may take what comes from our heart to allow it to move you guys’ heart.

Photo credit: Jackie Lee Young

The Show On The Road – Blind Boys of Alabama

Posted on by Shelby Williamson

This week on The Show On The Road, in honor of Black History Month, we bring you a conversation with members of foundational gospel group, The Blind Boys Of Alabama, including longtime singer Ricky McKinnie and beloved senior member Jimmy Carter, who has been with the group for four decades.

LISTEN: APPLE PODCASTS • SPOTIFY • STITCHER

Formed in the late 1930s with talent discovered at the Alabama Institute For The Negro Blind, the Blind Boys of Alabama have superseded limitations to bring their own high-spirited version of jubilee gospel throughout the world. Their music was often the backdrop to the Civil Rights Movement as Martin Luther King Jr. toured the south, and Jimmy and Ricky are both amazed and grateful that their message is still ringing true throughout the latest iteration Black Lives Matter movement that grew during the tumultuous last year.

While the members of the band have changed through time, the group has stayed steadfast to preserving a kinetic, church-based music that doesn’t seek to evangelize, but can bring people of all faiths together. Indeed, watching Jimmy and the other bespectacled members walk with hands on each other’s shoulders into the youthful crowds of adoring festival-goers, from Bonnaroo to Jazzfest, is really something to behold.

The Blind Boys’ body of work continues to grow. In the last few decades they’ve gamely collaborated with a wide range of secular artists from Peter Gabriel to Ben Harper to Bonnie Raitt, they made an album produced by Justin Vernon, AKA Bon Iver (2013’s stellar I’ll Find A Way), and they shrewdly reworked the ominous Tom Waits classic, “Way Down In The Hole,” which became the theme for HBO’s The Wire.

Their newest full length album, Almost Home, is a particularly moving treatise on morality and mortality. It features songs written by Marc Cohn, Valerie June, The North Mississippi All Stars and many others and was the last record that longtime member and bandleader Clarence Fountain was a part of before he passed away. He was a member of the Blind Boys of Alabama for nearly sixty years.

As Jimmy playfully mentions throughout our conversation, the Blind Boys of Alabama never let being blind stand in the way of doing what they do best: putting on a show. They’re entertainers at heart and it’s no small feat that they’ve brought a nearly lost form of swinging, soulful (and expertly arranged) gospel from the small southern towns where they grew up, all the way to the White House, where they’ve held court for three different presidents. And they’ve won five Grammy Awards along the way.

Stick around to the end of the episode hear their rich cover of Bob Dylan’s “I Shall Be Released.”

Photo credit: Jim Herrington