Tag: bluegrass

Welcome to Meels’ Critter Country

Posted on by Justin Hiltner

There are plenty of country subgenres out there, but quickly rising up-and-comer Meels has carved out a unique new niche. The California-born singer-songwriter calls her sound “critter country,” a fitting term for her playful but grounded brand of country-leaning roots music, which takes cues from folk of the ‘60s and ‘70s, traditional bluegrass, and classic country a la Loretta Lynn or Willie Nelson.

On her recently released new project, Across the Raccoon Strait, Meels takes listeners on a colorful, far-reaching tour of critter country and in the process announces herself as a fresh, genuinely exciting new voice in the broader roots music ecosystem.

Folks are taking notice – Meels is one of the first handful of artists signed to the newly rebirthed Lost Highway Records, with a legacy of artists like Lucinda Williams, Lyle Lovett, and Johnny Cash, as well as another left-of-center singer-songwriter, Kacey Musgraves, who was announced as the first official signee when the label relaunched last year. Meels has shared stages with artists like Molly Tuttle and Old Crow Medicine Show, and will appear with Margo Price, Carter Faith, and Nitty Gritty Dirt Band this spring.

Below, BGS catches up with Meels about songwriting, “critter country” and signing to Lost Highway.

In the lead-up to releasing Across the Raccoon Strait you shared that this batch of music feels truest, holistically, to who you are as an artist. Can you elaborate on that? What do you think enabled you to express yourself so fully?

Meels: As a writer and a producer and a songwriter and a singer, I really trust my gut and just follow the wave. With these songs, it was just me doing that. A few summers ago, before I made the project, I dove deep into the country classics – like Loretta Lynn and Marty Robbins and Dolly Parton. I got super inspired, the floodgates opened, and I just started writing like crazy. I grew up on a lot of ‘60s and ‘70s folk and my uncle is actually a bluegrass musician. He gigged around town where he lives in upstate New York. So I was already introduced to that world, but I took a deep dive and felt really inspired. The project just kind of poured out of me.

Would it be fair to say you found some unexpected connection points or overlap in those genres – the bluegrass and folk you grew up with, then the classic country you dove into?

Oh, totally. I also was trying out my own take on all of these genres and, again, trusting my gut with production and with the songwriting, to find a space within the genres that felt right for me as an artist.

You describe your music as “critter country,” which I just love. And that seems to encompass more than just your sound, as you’ve developed this really strong visual aesthetic in your videos and artwork, too. How did the concept “critter country” first come to you?

That came naturally, too. I grew up surrounded by a ton of critters in the woods in Northern California and found myself using animals as metaphors for my life. I went to NYU for music, and I took a branding class. I remember all of my peers were coming up with all these cool names for their genre. The teacher was like, “Oh, come up with a name specific to your genre and who you are as an artist.” I was still figuring out who I was as an artist in college and when I was looking through my lyrics and finding all of these “critter” similarities, I was like, “You know what? Critter country, that has such a nice ring to it.”

Take me back to the early days of making Across the Raccoon Strait. Was there a moment or idea that kicked off the creative process for you?

I think it was probably “Out West.” That track, in itself, encompasses the whole idea of the EP. I wrote it in New York when I was still living there and I’d just decided that I was moving back to California, back to my roots. I was just so excited about the idea of moving back out to the West Coast that the song came ripping out of me in my New York apartment. So that was a catalyst for me. I wrote most of these songs – that are about California and about home, actually – in New York when I was in a state of longing for home.

Did having that physical distance from your California home, and maybe the benefit of hindsight, help you write those songs?

I think so. My whole life, I have felt the most creative when I’m in California. New York is very overstimulating and there’s a lot going on all the time. I feel like, when I was living there, I was very much just absorbing everything that I could, but I wasn’t really writing so much until I was like, “Yeah, I’m gonna move back.” Then all of the sudden, I just started writing like crazy.

Something that stands out in your songwriting is how freely you use humor in your lyrics. You tackle some tough subjects, but never shy away from playfulness and to me it makes the stories feel more realistic, because in real life our experiences are often mixed bags. Are you consciously trying to inject some lightheartedness into your writing or does it just happen that way for you?

I don’t know. I do find myself making little jokes in my songs all the time. For example, in “The Wizard” I’m writing about a heavier topic: my struggles with OCD for my whole life. But I’m writing about it in a way that I’m not trying to hide anything. I’m just trying to put it in a way that’s maybe a little more digestible, and a little silly and a little funny, to help myself work through it a little more. And maybe to make it more digestible for my audience, too. Maybe I use humor as a way to cope.

“The Wizard” really does nail that balance of sharing something difficult and vulnerable while giving a little wink and nod to the listener.

I love a wink and a nod.

Speaking of that song, when you do get into vulnerable territory in your writing, do you ever feel fear or hesitation? And if you do, how do you engage with those voices?

To be honest, I feel like when I’m songwriting I’m at my most fearless. Since I was young, it’s been my way to put it all out on the table and not be afraid. I think me writing in these little critter metaphors, or using humor – maybe that’s my fear talking, I don’t know – but when I’m writing I just want to lay it all out on the table. It’s my one true release, so I try to do it without fear.

It sounds like you had a fantastic group of collaborators working with you in the studio. What was your time together like?

It was so wonderful. We recorded at a studio in Oakland called Tiny Telephone [owned by John Vanderslice]. They actually had old telephones that worked all over the studio. And they had everything you could want and more to play with and to get creative with. The space itself was incredible. We had an incredible engineer named Danielle, and she was also so important in the creative process, you know, running the vocal through this weird flanger and making moves that were so creative and so unique and so cool.

I also co-produced it with Peter [Groenwald] and Mark [Campbell], who made my first record with me, so that felt really comfortable and really safe. I knew nothing was off the table. I could bring up any idea, no matter how stupid I thought it was, and we would try it. Sometimes it worked, sometimes it didn’t. But we had such a good, natural flow in the studio. I brought a lot of friends, too, to play in the band, which was just really great.

You can hear the looseness and camaraderie in the music, in a way that I’d assume can’t be replicated without having close relationships with the players.

I’d always wanted to track a whole record live to tape. And we did that with Across the Raccoon Strait. We didn’t use any click [tracks]. It was just like, “Let’s get this next one tight, guys, let’s go.” We were all having a lot of fun with it.

When I’m in the studio, making music is such a collaborative thing. Even if it’s my song, every musician that I bring in is going to bring something unique. I really love to let them loose and let them rip. We can pull back where we want, but everybody in there plays an instrumental – no pun intended – role in making the music great.

This is also the first project you’ve done as one of the initial signees to the newly relaunched Lost Highway Records. How did you get hooked up with them and what does it mean to you to work with such an historic and impactful label?

This record has opened a lot of doors for me. I made it a little over a year ago and I was like, “I’m gonna quit my day job.” I was living with my grandma in Pasadena. She’s 86 and she’s so cool. “Marsha June” was actually written about her. So, I was basically like, “I’m just gonna give this thing a go.”

I sent this record around to literally anybody that would listen to it. I would send it to venues, because I’d just moved to LA. I was like, “Hey, I haven’t played a lot of LA gigs. Here’s my new record. You want to book me?” I was just kind of fearless about that, too. Some artists are so precious with the new stuff and don’t want to send it around. But I was sending these songs around before they were even mastered.

Eventually, I started working with a manager, I started working with an agent, and then I got a lawyer and did the whole thing. I talked to a lot of great labels, but when I met with Lost Highway I knew that it was the right direction. I’m so, so happy that I’m working with them. It really does feel like a family. It’s such a close-knit team and everybody really cares. … So many of my favorite artists have put music out through Lost Highway. Its legacy just runs so deep. I’m the hugest Johnny Cash fan in the world – and a Willie Nelson fan, and Lucinda Williams. It’s kind of absurd to me that my name could be looped in with all of those other names.

Photo Credit: Jim Hughes

BGS 5+5: Cold Chocolate

Posted on by Justin Hiltner

Artist: Cold Chocolate
Hometown: Boston, Massachusetts
Latest Album: Not Gonna Stop (released February 13, 2026)

(Editor’s Note: Answers supplied by Cold Chocolate’s Ethan Robbins.)

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

In May of 2020, smack dab at the beginning of the pandemic, my wife and I were expecting our second daughter. At the time, among other things, we were worried about whether or not I would be allowed to accompany my wife to the hospital to give birth – that’s the way the protocols were set. Fortunately I was able to, but unfortunately the birth didn’t go as smoothly as one always hopes it will and Casey, our daughter, had to remain in the hospital for 17 days after she was born. Because of the protocols at the time, my wife and I were not allowed to stay with her. So all we could do each day was call the hospital to find out when she was coming home. If you recall, back in the early pandemic days, each day felt like a year. Those 17 days really felt like 17 years.

It was an incredibly emotional time. I’d find myself crying out of nowhere, in the middle of the day, without any warning. It was during that emotionally charged period that I wrote “How You’re Feeling Today,” and although it was hard to find the right words to write and sing, it was incredibly cathartic in that moment. Through the writing of that song, I was able to start to see the light at the end of the tunnel. Now, when we play that song live, I get to revisit some of those feelings, but in a much more positive light – because Casey is 5 years old now. Incredibly healthy, incredibly beautiful, incredibly hilarious, and one of the best dressers I know.

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

We call our music Americana. It’s a broad term that’s meant to encapsulate many different genres, as does our sound. Our band goes back a long way, over a decade, and has evolved considerably over that time. When we began the band over 10 years ago, we had a banjo player and an upright bass player and the music we were playing was very much bluegrass-forward – or at least, that’s what we considered it to be. We always had drums, so some people may never have considered us a bluegrass band, but we did.

The issue for us back then was that the entire time our banjo player was touring with us he was also studying to get his PhD in Physics from Harvard University. So when he graduated and became a doctor, he had to make the very difficult decision whether to pursue his career in science or his career in banjo. He made the wrong decision that day – and we obviously continued on as a band and our music continued to evolve as anything and everything does over 10+ years of time.

We began to get enthralled by the music of bands like the Wood Brothers and the Black Keys, and I started playing electric guitar live more than ever before. Ariel [Bernstein] and I delved pretty far into what this electric sound allowed us to do. We found we were now able to play things and express things that we’d been unable to achieve before. So we went forth as an electric “power duo” (trademark pending) and wrote and performed a ton in that duo setting. Then, bam! – pandemic hits, and we don’t see each other for more than two years.

In May of 2022, I showed up at Ariel’s house and he says, “Oh, I play banjo now!” Through his banjo and my mandolin’s addition to our band, we were able to revisit some of the bluegrassy material that we’d started with so many years ago. We breathed fresh life into tunes that were as old as the band itself and now they feel like some of our newest songs. It’s added an arc to our albums and live shows that we adore. So in a live setting, we’ll play everything from electric funk and rock with a drum kit and guitar amp to acoustic bluegrass and folk with banjo and mandolin around a condenser mic. It’s hard to put one word on what we do. It’s all… us.

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

I started classical violin lessons when I was 4 years old. I studied with the same teacher until I went to college at 18. At the beginning, although there was certainly a level of enjoyment that I was aware of, I never connected with classical music in a way that made me want to take complete ownership of my music education. When I was 14, I started teaching myself guitar and my love of playing music started to grow. I was finally able to play things that I wanted to play. At the time, that was a lot of Dave Matthews Band – but it was the first time I realized that music could be so soul-fulfilling.

When I got to college at Oberlin, at that point listening to a lot of Grateful Dead, I met some people who were really into bluegrass. I didn’t know what that was at the time, but the first time I heard Old & In the Way I was sold. I went to the very first DelFest in 2008, right before spending the summer working for HeadCount – the voter registration organization – on a six-week tour with the Dave Matthews Band. It was that juxtaposition, seeing my favorite childhood band rock out every night then going to sleep listening to Peter Rowan and Vassar Clements in my headphones, that I started to visualize a life path for me as a musician.

It certainly took us some time as a band to figure out how to make that dream a feasible reality and, in some ways, we are still figuring that out. But truthfully, I just met the right friends at the right time, saw and listened to the right music when it mattered most, and that sparked the dream.

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

When I was at IBMA in 2024 in a meeting setting, as an icebreaker, someone asked what the first album each person had ever purchased was. Most people responded on-brand with a classic bluegrass or newgrass album, Bill Monroe’s Uncle Pen or Alison Krauss & Union Station’s Paper Airplane. For me, it was an easy answer: Third Eye Blind’s self-titled record. I know all of the words to all of the songs on that record and it’s still a personal fave of ours as a band. During late-night drives, we’ll blast that album front to back in the van. It still pumps us up, sets the vibe and energy high, and keeps us going full-speed ahead toward our next destination. ’90s pop, across the board, is a winner for this band, but that album specifically will always and forever hold a special place.

Since food and music go so well together, what is your dream pairing of a meal and a musician?

Great question. My top act to have seen live, hands down, would have to be the Band. Certainly Cold Chocolate’s musical vibe has been modeled after those raw, rootsy sounds of theirs. Their songs transcending genre, while being just so totally “them.” I’m not sure what food would pair best with seeing them. At The Last Waltz it was a Thanksgiving dinner, which is honestly one of my favorite meals of all time. But [with] a heavy meal, I’d want to dance my ass off at that show.

Southern BBQ is another obvious choice for Levon’s Arkansas-growl, but again maybe too heavy. I think I could get down with a fish boil at a show by the Band, thrown out across a table, family-style. Then I could grab little bites throughout the show while belting out “The Shape I’m In” with my idols on that stage.

WBUR recently wrote about us that our song “I Know This Girl” has “enough grit, drive and backbeat to make Cold Chocolate worthy heirs to The Band,” which is maybe the best thing ever written about us in the media.

Photo Credit: Lead image by Kelly Davidson, alternate images by Joe Navas.

10 Sonically Diverse Covers of Lucinda Williams Songs

Posted on by Justin Hiltner

Befitting Lucinda Williams’ stature as one of the greatest songwriters of modern times, she might be the most covered artist this side of Bob Dylan (who, as far as I can tell, might be the only major artist never to have covered one of her songs).

From “Are You Alright?” to “You Can’t Rule Me” and all points in between, Williams’ catalog is broad, deep, and multivalent, with lavish emotional content to dig into. Truly, the woman’s body of work contains multitudes.

Where she’s coming from is no mystery, because Williams has always been generous about showing off her own influences and idols. She has covered too many other artists’ songs to count, by the likes of Dylan, Nick Drake, Howlin’ Wolf, and more. She has also done multiple tribute albums in her Lu’s Jukebox series, covering the Beatles, the Rolling Stones, Tom Petty, and even Christmas songs, among others.

There’s almost too much to choose from, but here is a small sampling of what other artists have done with Williams’ songs over the years – focused more on stylistic departures than faithful readings.

“Passionate Kisses” – Saintseneca (2014)

It’s hardly surprising that a great deal of this list of covers will come from 1988’s breakthrough album Lucinda Williams, starting with this forthright statement of purpose. The obvious “Passionate Kisses” cover choice would be Mary Chapin Carpenter’s 1993 hit version, which put both women on the map. But let’s go more left-field with the sprawling, atmospheric grandeur of the cover by Ohio indie-folk band Saintseneca. It’s never sounded more wide-open cinematic, to the point that I kind of can’t believe no one has put it onscreen yet. Cue opening credits.

“Bus To Baton Rouge” – Amos Lee (2023)

This Philadelphia-born soul man thinks enough of the Williams oeuvre to have covered 12 of her songs for an album, Honeysuckle Switches: The Songs of Lucinda Williams. Williams’ original appeared as the penultimate track of her 2001 release, Essence. The lyrics yield up the title phrase of Lee’s tribute LP, and it makes a stunning album-closer here.

“Side of the Road” – Ben Folds (2005)

In Williams’ hands, “Side of the Road” conveys stoic resolve on her 1988 self-titled joint. North Carolina native virtuoso Ben Folds transposes it to winsome piano pop for his 2005 solo album Songs For Goldfish, and the transition works beautifully.

“Change the Locks” – Tom Petty (1996)

Originally titled “Changed the Locks” on her eponymous album, this is in the conversation for Williams’ greatest songs. Her version coursed with undercurrents of the sort of domestic violence that would inspire a woman to, well, change her locks. So it’s interesting that so many men have taken a crack at this song in the decades since, including Silos, Vampire Weekend, Rostam, and Elvis Costello. But maybe best of all is Tom Petty, who recorded it for the soundtrack to 1996’s She’s The One, getting the defiance just right.

“Joy” – Bettye LaVette (2005)

As good as all of Williams’ records have been, it wasn’t until 1998’s GRAMMY-winning Car Wheels on a Gravel Road that she finally got herself a gold record. “Joy” was a high point, equal parts angry and exuberant. Still, powerhouse soul woman Bettye LaVette took it to a whole new level with a swamp-blues rendition on her 2005 comeback LP, I’ve Got My Own Hell to Raise.

“Abandoned” – The Lemonheads (2019)

While The Lemonheads’ troubled leader Evan Dando is a decidedly problematic figure, there’s no denying his taste in covers. The Lemonheads have released two volumes of cover collections with good, bad, and ugly songs by everyone from Townes Van Zandt and Yo La Tengo to Florida Georgia Line and GG Allin. From 2019, Varshons 2 also features a fuzz-toned version of Williams’ very forlorn “Abandoned” (yet another Lucinda Williams song).

“Concrete And Barbed Wire” – Bella White (2022)

There has always been a stateliness to the Car Wheels on a Gravel Road track “Concrete And Barbed Wire,” which was in Canadian songbird Bella White’s onstage setlist years before she released a studio version on 2024’s Five For Silver. The song’s waltz tempo makes a perfect fit for bluegrass – recorded live at the Green Mountain Bluegrass and Roots Fest in Vermont.

“Metal Firecracker” – Mary Lou Lord (2015)

Everybody’s favorite busker, Mary Lou Lord is best-known for solo deconstructions of songs from the indie-rock canon. But on her 2015 LP Backstreet Angels, Lord goes full-band indie-rock for “Metal Firecracker” (which Williams originally cut on Car Wheels on a Gravel Road). Lord sounds dreamy to Williams’ earthiness – but both versions come down to, “All I ask, don’t tell anybody the secrets I told you.”

“People Talkin’” – Hurray For the Riff Raff (2012)

Maybe the acid test of a song’s worthiness is how well it holds up if stripped all the way down to voice and quiet strumming. As if there could be any doubt, Williams’ “People Talkin’” (from 2003’s World Without Tears) is superb in this guitar-and-fiddle version that Hurray For the Riff Raff recorded in a London kitchen for an edition of “notes from mt. pleasant.”

“Fruits of My Labor” – Waxahatchee (2021)

“Fruits of My Labor” seems like a song that’s still going to be played around campfires a century from now. Its structure and vibe bear passing resemblance to that classic spiritual, “A Change Is Gonna Come,” and it’s been covered numerous times since first appearing on Williams’ 2003 LP World Without Tears – fine, fine versions by Margaret Glaspy, Mia Dyson, and Rostam, among others. But Waxahatchee (Alabama-born Katie Crutchfield) gets closest to the song’s soul with her cover from 2021’s Saint Cloud +3 album.

“The Last Time” – Lucinda Williams (2021)

We’ll break the format here at the end and give Williams herself the last word, showing everyone how one pays proper cover homage. From her 2021 tribute LP, You Are Cordially Invited…A Tribute to the Rolling Stones, “The Last Time” is a song with a long and winding road behind it. Originated by the Blind Boys of Alabama, it was famously covered by the Staple Singers in 1961. Four years later, the Stones fit it with a snarling lead-guitar hook that took it out of church – and here Williams moves it right on over to the honky-tonk.

Continue exploring our Artist of the Month coverage of Lucinda Williams here.

Photo Credit: Mark Seliger

The Steel Wheels’ Songs for Humans, by Humans

Posted on by Justin Hiltner

It’s common these days to wring hands over the many ways powerful tech companies have meddled, without permission, in how we discover and listen to music (among other things). It’s just as common to fearfully declare that music’s good old days are past and gone. But after 20 years as a working band, we know that the strength of community through music is much more enduring; and we see it all the time.

There is no greater force than a group of people who are ready to share a joyful experience. It doesn’t matter if they’re gathering to jam, attend a concert, or anything else. People in community can create strong connections in a heartbeat, under almost any circumstances, and music is a powerful vehicle for it. Some days it feels harder than others to find that spark, but it’s always there if we come together and dig for it. Every day the pressure grows to strip the things we all have made and love for parts, but collectively we can raise our voices and push back. As a band, we’re choosing to resist that force and to keep building things. Together.

This playlist features artists that we feel musical and professional kinship with, bands that have been around and are well into their careers. The songs we chose come from albums that are worth spending time with over and over again. These folks have played lots and lots of gigs and revel in the energy of a great show as much as we do. You’ll also find some music from our 9th studio album, The Steel Wheels, too. Music that we made together in a room. – The Steel Wheels

“Easy” – The Steel Wheels

A breezy song with a swirling fiddle intro and a big question at its heart. We live in the future now, with the entire world available to us on the other side of our screens. So why are we lonelier than ever? If everything is supposed to be easy, why does it all feel so hard?

“Talk Is Cheap” – Dr. Dog

Because they inspired me with one incredible Bristol Rhythm & Roots Reunion set probably 15 years ago. Their old amps, their confident trailblazing of their sound that was clearly referential and respectful – but not chasing what a lot of other bands were chasing.

“Los Angeles” – Big Thief

An artist’s job is to remain open and soft to the world and to distill all that pain and joy into work that transmits emotion across space and time. Somehow, Big Thief seems to only become less jaded with time, maintaining curiosity and exploration as part of their creative process.

“Go Back” – The Steel Wheels

All deep relationships come with joy and with pain. To be rid of one you would also lose the other. It’s part of lived experience, this is a reminder to embrace all of it. True connection is worth it.

“Waiting For The Sun” – The Jayhawks

The Jayhawks are a band that prove you can continue to forge your own way and make it through the highs and lows. I was still really just a kid when I discovered them through some older cats I was playing with at the time. Son Volt and Wilco were very much in the alt-country scene and the Jayhawks just had something a bit different going on.

“Worried About The Weather” – Greensky Bluegrass

I love the way this song pivots between the anxiety of pushing forward through uncertainty and the breezy delight of taking a moment to enjoy the journey. There’s momentum to both things and “Weather” has tons of it.

“Keep On Dancing” – The Steel Wheels

Let’s take a break from responsibilities to just see ourselves and each other. Don’t forget to breathe and to appreciate the unadorned peace that can fill the spaces between us.

“I And Love And You” – The Avett Brothers

Even a track like this, one full of solitary stillness, shows the Avetts’ songs are packed with other people. They always remind me that I’m not as alone as I often feel. You can sense the presence of old partners and family throughout this song even though the speaker is alone in their car.

“Valerie” – The Brothers Comatose

These guys are everybody’s friends. Maybe the acoustic Dawes? I don’t know. We’ve known them a long time and they keep bringing joy and fun with warmth and grounded songs that don’t rely too heavily on bluegrass tropes.

“Sway / Endless Highway (Pt. 2)” – Watchhouse

Watchhouse invest deep thought into every lyric and intention into every note without ever seeming to overthink their process or get held back by previous work. “Sway / Endless Highway (Pt. 2)” demonstrates how the band is constantly in conversation, transitioning between tempos and driving down into a deep groove with a breeziness that belies the technical mastery of their acoustic instruments. At a Watchhouse show, the crowd will hang on every note and every silence, sharing a reverence for the song with the band.

“Slow Rise (to the middle)” – The Wood Brothers

Oliver, Chris, and Jano seem to be propelled forward by some groove force that penetrates everything they do and they invite listeners to join in on the funky joy. Their track “Slow Rise (to the middle)” tips a hat to their musical journey. To be in an audience is to get lost in the moment, only to occasionally remind yourself how wild it is that all the sounds coming from the stage emanate from just three musicians.

“Way Down Yonder ” – Chatham County Line

I first heard Chatham County Line when I opened for them at The Livery in Benton Harbor, Michigan, with a jamgrass band I was in, probably 20 years ago. They were tight and had their act together. I was blown away by their professionalism and it made a big impact on me. I will never forget that moment and I’m still inspired by their creativity and longevity as a band.

Photo Credit: Monik Geisel

You Gotta Hear This: Steep Canyon Rangers, Jim Lauderdale, and More

Posted on by Justin Hiltner

Welcome to the conclusion of another week. With it, we’re once again sharing our weekly roundup of brand-new tracks, singles, videos, and more. You Gotta Hear This!

To start us off, Kentuckian singer-songwriter and instrumentalist Adam Chaffins shares a lyric video for “Sugarcoat It,” a new original song about the temptation and believability in misinformation these days. Chaffins and his collaborators leverage groove and catchy hooks for a meaningful and oh-so-timely message in the rockin’ Americana track. Also bringing a topical and cutting central thesis are Joe Troop & the Truth Machine, who have released a new live performance video for “Billionaires.” Bluegrass and old-time stemming from Southwest Virginia are the musical trappings for a funny, satirical song taking the 1% of the 1% to task. Troop and his queer cohort are well equipped to proffer their message with silliness, joy, and string band music.

From across the Atlantic, Spanish (via Amsterdam) singer-songwriter Liza Lo shares “Birdsong,” a tender and vibing alt-folk number zooming in on the present moment. “Life can get overwhelming and the simple things are quickly forgotten or overlooked,” she explains to BGS, using the song to remind all of us – and herself – not to lose sight of the beauty in the simplest of everyday things.

Bluegrassers Chris Jones & the Night Drivers have a new single out today. “Steal My Today” is the band’s first recording released with their latest member, Nelson Williams, playing the bass. Plus, Italian resonator guitarist Paolo Ercoli guests on the track, which also features banjoist Grace van’t Hof throwing some accordion into the mix. It’s also a song about the present moment, and not letting it be soiled by another. Meanwhile, perhaps the most prolific recording artist in roots music has announced a new project. Jim Lauderdale once again teams up with the Po’ Ramblin’ Boys, this time on his upcoming album The Birds Know – out in April. The lead single, “We Look At Things In Different Ways,” furthers our unofficial theme today of examining societal discourse, by pointing out you actually can love and care for another even with disparate points of view.

And, you won’t want to miss the latest from Western North Carolina’s bluegrass troubadours the Steep Canyon Rangers. Earlier this week they launched “Rumble Strips” a new single that will be included on their May Yep Roc Records release, Next Act. Written by Aaron Burdett, it’s a straight ahead bluegrass jam about getting back on track after you’ve wandered a bit from your lane and hit the rumble strips. But hope need not be lost, as Burdett points out, often you “maybe only need a little course correction to get back on the right path.”

Just in time for St. Patrick’s Day next week, country rockers Reckless Kelly share a reimagined, “evolved” acoustic version of “Seven Nights in Eire.” They originally released the song in 2005 on Wicked Twisted Road and it’s since become a fan favorite. This new edition of the track features mandolin, fiddle, pedal steel, and more combining country, Celtic, and string band in a pub-ready blend.

Check it all out below, right here on BGS. You Gotta Hear This!

Adam Chaffins, “Sugarcoat It”

Artist: Adam Chaffins
Hometown: Nashville, Tennessee, via Louisa, Kentucky
Song: “Sugarcoat It”
Release Date: March 13, 2026 (single)
Label: Spirit Nashville Recordings / Fluid Music Revolution

In Their Words: “Lately it just feels harder and harder to tell what’s real and what isn’t with so much information flying at us all the time. Sometimes, you hear something so outrageous you assume it can’t possibly be true – until you realize it is. That tension really shaped the song. It’s got sweet, sugary, sticky hooks and a groove you can’t help but move to, while shining a little light on how the truth can sometimes be deceiving. It was a lot of fun to track this playing upright bass. Along with Frank Rogers and the crew we really brought it to life. We’ve got a lot of new music on the way and we’re really excited to kick it off with this one.” – Adam Chaffins

Chris Jones & the Night Drivers, “Steal My Today”

Artist: Chris Jones & the Night Drivers
Hometown: Nashville, Tennessee
Song: “Steal My Today”
Release Date: March 13, 2026 (single)
Label: Mountain Home Music Company

In Their Words: “This song represents some firsts for us: it’s our first release to feature Nelson Williams on the bass (including some bowed bass). He’s the newest Night Driver, though he’s already been with us for over two years. It’s also our first time to feature Italian Dobro player Paolo Ercoli as a musical guest. He and I have been doing duo tours in Europe and in the U.S. for a few years now. Grace van’t Hof and I co-wrote the song, one about not letting the material loss of a breakup take away the joy of the present moment. Grace also played banjo and even added some accordion to the recording.” – Chris Jones

Track Credits:
Chris Jones – Acoustic guitar, lead vocal
Nelson Williams – Bass
Mark Stoffel – Mandolin, harmony vocal
Grace van’t Hof – Banjo, accordion, harmony vocal
Tony Creasman – Drums
Paolo Ercoli – Resonator guitar

Jim Lauderdale, “We Look At Things In Different Ways”

Artist: Jim Lauderdale & the Po’ Ramblin’ Boys
Hometown: Troutman, North Carolina
Song: “We Look At Things In Different Ways”
Album: The Birds Know
Release Date: March 13, 2026 (single); April 24, 2026 (album)

In Their Words: “This song came through me to speak to these times of divisiveness in our world. It was an important message I wanted to get out: that you can still love somebody even though your views might differ.” – Jim Lauderdale

Liza Lo, “Birdsong”

Artist: Liza Lo
Hometown: Amsterdam, the Netherlands
Song: “Birdsong”
Release Date: March 18, 2026
Label: Gearbox Records

In Their Words: “‘Birdsong’ reminds me of a new love, a gentle morning walk, or a hug from a friend. Life can get overwhelming and the simple things are quickly forgotten or overlooked. First morning coffees, meeting someone new, real connection, holding hands, song of birds in the garden, the smell of spring air, sunlight on your face after a long period of rain and grey. ‘Birdsong’ is written to remember the beauty in the smallest of things life gives us, I hope it can be this reminder for you too.” – Liza Lo

Track Credits:
Sean Rogan – Acoustic guitar
Chris Rabbits – Double bass
Owen Spafford – Fiddle
Liza Lo Hoek – Vocals, acoustic guitar

Reckless Kelly, “Seven Nights In Eire (Alternate Routes)”

Artist: Reckless Kelly
Hometown: Austin, Texas
Song: “Seven Nights in Eire (Alternate Routes)”
Album: Alternate Routes
Release Date: March 13, 2026 (single)
Label: No Big Deal Records

In Their Words: “‘Seven Nights In Eire’ is a collection of stories based on trips taken to Ireland by myself, my dad Muzzie, and our old friend Pinto Bennett. We had all been there individually a time or two and had had some amazing experiences that we wanted to write about. We got together at Pinto’s house in Boise, Idaho, and after a couple hours and a few beers, we had the song down. We basically just sat around swapping stories and telling jokes and working them into the verses that became the song as you know it today.

“The original version was recorded for our 2005 release, Wicked Twisted Road. Over the years it’s become a fan favorite and one of our most popular songs, so we decided to include it in its new evolved version on Alternate Routes. We had our friend Kym Warner come play some mandolin on it and we did the version we’ve been playing live over the last several years. It’s a little different from the OG, but it’s one of those songs that has stood the test of time and will definitely continue to be a staple on the set list.” – Willy Braun

Steep Canyon Rangers, “Rumble Strips”

Artist: Steep Canyon Rangers
Hometown: Asheville, North Carolina
Song: “Rumble Strips”
Album: Next Act
Release Date: March 10, 2026 (single); May 22, 2026 (album)
Label: Yep Roc Records

In Their Words: “My friend Nate is fond of saying when a person has gotten off track a little bit and notices they’ve ‘hit the rumble strips’ and maybe only need a little course correction to get back on the right path. I took this imagery and applied it to a relationship. Some ongoing conversations between Graham [Sharp] and I filled this one out.” – Aaron Burdett, songwriter, guitarist, vocalist

Joe Troop & the Truth Machine, “Billionaires”

Artist: Joe Troop & the Truth Machine
Hometown: Winston-Salem, North Carolina
Song: “Billionaires”
Album: The Truth Machine (EP)
Release Date: March 13 2026 (video); April 3 2026 (EP)

In Their Words: “I formed this band with friends that I made at the Galax Fiddlers Convention many moons ago. This track has Southwest Virginia written all over it. It’s Southern bluegrass gospel with four-part vocal harmonies in the Stanley Brothers style.

“Lyrically, it’s unabashed political satire, a high lonesome roasting of MAGA and their principal talking points. But funnily enough, people often approach me after gigs to thank me for singing it without realizing it’s satire. Yikes! Is media literacy a problem in this country? On occasion, some folks have walked out on our show during this song. One couple told the presenter that they didn’t pay to be insulted – they work hard for their money! And while we aren’t ragging on anyone for accumulating wealth, to add some perspective: a million seconds is 11 days. A billion seconds is 32 years. Who needs that much money!? What could you possibly spend it on?! Election meddling, propagating divisive talking points? Beyond partisan politics, the wealth disparity in this country ought to alarm everyone. We plebs are not that different. Let’s rally together around music, laughter, and class justice in this billionaire-induced hellscape of a country. It’s time for a change!

“‘Billionaires’ is part The Truth Machine, a five-track EP that drops everywhere on April 3, 2026. It is available for preorder now on my website.” – Joe Troop

Track Credits:
Joe Troop – Banjo, vocals
Lu Furtado – Guitar, vocals
Malia Furtado – Fiddle
Olivia Fernandez – Mandolin, vocals
Jimmy Washington – Bass, vocals

Video Credits: 
Kayla L Oelhafen – Producer
Alexei Mejouev – Videographer
Andy Augustyn – Gaffer
Larry Vellani, Toni Murray – Location coordinators

Photo Credit: Steep Canyon Rangers by Jay Strausser; Jim Lauderdale by Jeff Fasano.

Magoo on Taking Chances and Giving Up Second Guessing

Posted on by Justin Hiltner

Magoo has been lighting up Colorado’s vibrant and crowded jamgrass scene since 2022. Their collision of string band music with danceable beats, jazzed up instrumental breaks, and anthemic lyrics rooted in rock has led guitarist Erik Hill to coin the phrase “bluegrass with lasers” to describe their sound and style.

After turning heads with two volumes of Magoo The EP in 2023 and 2024, the band – now comprised of Dylan Flynn (Dobro), Courtlyn Bills (mandolin), A. Denton Turner (bass), and Hill – have finally unleashed their full-length debut, What A Life. The 10-song compilation sees the upstart group of pickers contemplating everything from the sacrifices of a life lived on the road, the places that have transformed us, and how our stories are all connected.

Across 52 minutes of run time, the musicians rip their way through meandering jams that flow freely from one song to another as if it was a live show, an approach Hill says was intentional to keep the album from feeling sterile.

“Our live shows and recordings are very important to us, so it was imperative that this album not feel so copy and paste or cut and dry like studio projects often can be,” explains Hill. “I think we landed on a nice, organic feel that stretches the songs out, but not as much as we do when you see us live. In that sense, it serves as a good bridge between the two.”

During a free-flowing conversation with the band inside the green room at The Burl in Lexington, Kentucky, midway through their winter tour, Magoo spoke about the DIY approach to What A Life, Telluride’s significance to the group, near-death experiences, and more.

Why was now the right time to release your debut record?

Erik Hill: We had all the songs that we wanted to record. With the EPs we released previously, we basically recorded the couple originals that we had at the time along with a few covers. Eventually we started collecting a nice set of original music and figured it was time to do a full-length album.

Denton Turner: A big part of it is just having all the parts in place, from our management to booking people, so we can hit the road full speed. But in order to do that right it was important we have an album out to go with it – we needed a product to market. That was a big motivator for us this year, having an album to really kick in the door and make the most of our 100+ shows this year. Getting those other pieces in place on our team gave us ample time to focus on recording. When you’re trying to do everything it’s easy to half-ass it all, so having them by our side allows us to focus on and tackle what we love – the music – head on.

And with What A Life you opted to tackle it in your own DIY studio. Tell me about that experience?

Courtlyn Bills: I’ve made about 80 records in the past, but for this one everything was set up special just to make this album. I was moving and had my dad drive up a bunch of equipment from Texas, including my console he’d been holding in storage that was previously owned by Prince.

EH: Sessions were scattered throughout the month when we weren’t touring. Any time we were able we’d try getting over to Courtlyn’s to bang out a tune or two.

CB: There were a lot of 4 a.m. sessions. The coffee pots were flowing! The only big difference from one session to the next came on the jams, which we decided to use our pedal boards on and mic them up simultaneously. The only other thing is that I changed the action in my mandolin near the end of some tunes, which is why my mandolin sounds a bit thicker to close out three songs. There was a lot of us repeatedly asking each other, “How does your instrument sound?” Because there’s no turning back now, so no pressure. [Laughs]

DT: Even though we’re coming from touring and going straight into recording and back to touring – which seems hectic in a way – it’s nice for me doing [songs] one at a time. Being in a studio can be a grueling, tedious process, so having the luxury of being able to do it ourselves when it made sense for us was nice. We were able to just focus on one song or two songs at a time and give them all our attention. It didn’t feel like we were on the clock and paying by the hour with the pressure to get it all done quickly. Instead we were able to focus on banging out a song then hitting the road and discussing what next song we want to do and develop next before coming back being ready to give that song the attention it deserves, which was a lot of fun.

Courtlyn, you mentioned having a deep catalog of producer credits already. Has it always been a goal of yours to record your own band’s projects?

CB: I first started working in a studio when I was 15, mostly with younger artists that have less developed material, which I love. However, what I don’t love recording is my own music, which is why I never made a record for myself up to this point. But the cool thing about Magoo is, even though I write for and sing a lot with them, it feels like I’m working for a band and not myself. Knowing that removed a lot of the pressure of it being a make or break thing because I could trust my dudes. If they said something was good I wouldn’t question it, I’d just say, “Let’s move on!”

If I’m not mistaken, the only song you didn’t record at the DIY studio was “Angel Of Telluride,” which you flew to Nashville to knock out with its feature artist, Sam Bush. How’d that one come about?

CB: That connection came about through Jeff Fasano, an amazing photographer who used to shoot the rock band I was in prior to Magoo. Whenever we first met I had just started playing mandolin and I remember him telling me that he could see into my soul and could tell that playing it was my destiny, not rock music. I knew he was also close to Sam, so when I eventually wrote “Angel Of Telluride” I did it to be a Sam Bush song.

One day Jeff emailed Sam about the song and once he realized we were a real band and not full of shit he gave me a call and said he’d be honored to be a part of it. When we got to recording, I remember asking him if he wanted a producer credit on the song and he turned it down even though he was still effectively acting as a producer, because every freaking note, chord change, and tone shift he hit was spot on.

DT: Sam actually beat us to the studio the day we recorded. We wound up spending the entire day hanging out with him. It reminds me of a line in “What A Life” – “Buy the ticket, take the ride.” You only get one life, so don’t shy away from taking chances and shooting for the stars. Who knows, you might just wind up at a studio in Nashville recording with one of your heroes. Working with Sam never would’ve happened if we hadn’t taken the chance, and I’m so glad we did. I hope it inspires others to bet on themselves and their abilities too.

That song also holds a lot of significance given what the Telluride Bluegrass Festival has meant to the band, notably how you wound up bringing Courtlyn into the fold. Can you tell me about that?

Dylan Flynn: Erik, myself, and my Uncle Paul [Flynn] were the original Magoo and would regularly attend and pick around at festivals like Telluride, Rockygrass, and Tico Time. Then a few years ago Courtlyn, still new to bluegrass at the time, stumbled into our campsite. We ended up picking all week, through the night until 8 a.m. each day.

Then at one point when we were watching Greensky Bluegrass perform I remember him turning to me and saying, “I want to be in your band” and I responded, “I just met you like five minutes ago. Let me talk to the guys about it first.” [Laughs] But after spending all that time with him there and seeing not just how his brain works, but also how far along he was as someone still new to bluegrass, it was a no-brainer. In the weeks after Telluride it dawned on us that he was the missing piece we needed, not just as a player but as a person as well.

We rode with that lineup for about a year until my Uncle Paul decided he wanted to step away from music to travel the world – he’s actually rooting us on from Thailand right now. But when he departed, Denton was presented to us by a mutual friend. Similar to Courtlyn, after being introduced he tagged along to play several gigs before we formally asked him to join us long-term.

DT: I still remember them proposing to me and making it official with a Slim Jim ring. I still have mine and see it every day. It’s on the bus sitting on the butter tray in our fridge. [Laughs]

Sounds like you’re preserving it like one of those Big Macs you see in a museum that’s unchanged after 20 years!

Switching gears now – Courtlyn, what led to your move from the rock world into bluegrass?

CB: I was seeing the String Cheese Incident and going to festivals like Hulaween a lot, but I still didn’t quite love or understand bluegrass yet. I come from a really progressive and heavy world of jazz fusion, metal, and radio rock, but once I started hearing Cheese do more bluegrass-leaning songs I started falling in love and learning how to do them myself.

Then in 2019 – still prior to picking up a mandolin – I ingested DMT for the first time. When I did, I remember a friend who’d been telling me for years that even though I didn’t know it, that I was a mandolin player. [He] put a 1916 Gibson A[-style mandolin] into my hands and told me to shred. I don’t know how to explain it besides it being like “Dr. Strange,” but with numbers. It was that moment I became a mandolin player.

From there I formed a Celtic band and began plugging away with that, all the while realizing I had to get this bluegrass thing figured out. Bluegrass is one of the most prominent genres in the counterculture-ish scene that I loved being a part of, from String Cheese people to Deadheads and Spreadnecks and beyond. One day I sat myself down and said bluegrass is gonna have to be it – you are married to bluegrass now. Then I started going online and listening to pickers like Ricky Skaggs, Sierra Hull, Jarrod Walker, and David “Dawg” Grisman, slowing down YouTube videos to learn their breaks. That was about it. Once I learned what was going on in bluegrass musically, then it was obvious that these guys and gals are monsters. To be able to create such a back pocket with no drums on that mash grass stuff – there’s nothing like it.

You’re right, there is nothing like it! With that in mind, is that what your song “What A Life” is about – taking chances and being grateful to make a living making music?

CB: The melody and chorus for that song came together really quickly one day in my buddy’s living room. At that time in my life, the songs I was writing didn’t hold a lot of meaning or significance, so I wanted this one to be profound. The last verse really says it all: “What a life/ Is what I thought before I got swallowed by the tide/ Something felt amazing/ But I knew it wasn’t on the other side.”

I had a near-death experience when I was 19 and that is where I take a lot of the song’s inspiration from – although in the beginning I try to get cute talking about grandpas and other relatives and how their actions and memories have impacted the person you are in this very moment. Despite how insignificant those stories may seem to you right now, the fact that they were passed down and made it to you means they must’ve been pretty big moments in their and your family’s history.

So even though something like hopping into a stranger’s car and hauling ass to Telluride may not seem significant to anything other than the present moment, it’s so much more than that. We’re all connected in the climb and the work we put in together to build the memories we cherish. If none of us were here, what would be the point?

DF: …There’d be no life at all. That’s my favorite line in the entire song: “If none of us were here there’d be no life at all.” [Laughs]

A big part of the musical life and memories in your Colorado stomping grounds are its vibrant jamgrass community, a talented and tight-knit group that reminds me a lot of the Kentucky scene I’ve been fortunate to grow up in. What are your thoughts on the scene there and where Magoo fits into it all?

EH: We’re pretty lucky to call Colorado our home base. It’s certainly a breeding ground for a lot of great bands and even better music fans. People that love our type of music are everywhere in Colorado, no matter what town you’re in. From Denver to Boulder and up in the mountain towns, people want to hear that jam music, bluegrass, or a mix of both. It keeps us constantly busy and buzzing with new ideas to explore.

DF: We also have so many friends who are a part of great bands like Clay Street Unit, Tonewood String Band, and The Fretliners. I have more friends in my life now than ever before because of the community that we’re building. It’s also funny too – like one day I was driving home and saw [the Infamous Stringdusters’] Andy Hall in my neighborhood and am in awe, only to find out he lives half a mile down the road. My number one Dobro inspiration is Andy Hall, so having him so close by is a testament to just how unbelievable the music scene is in Colorado right now.

CB: There’s just something about being above 8,500 feet [elevation] that pushes people to their limits, whether it’s climbing a mountain or writing a song. The special thing about Colorado is the people here are making music for their friends. They’re making music for their little community to get together and have a good time. Someone like Vince Herman isn’t out there writing a song to have a number one hit. He’s writing a song so his family and his homies can get in front of the stage and throw down and feel comfortable and have the time of their lives, which is exactly what we’re getting to do now.

All: What a life!

What has bringing this album to life taught you about yourselves?

EH: Doing this album DIY style, we had to learn to trust ourselves and say, “Hey, this is really good.” You can sit here and nitpick each part and each take fucking forever, but at the end of the day what we have is really good, good enough to put out for people.

DT: For me, it’s in line with the phrase “what a life,” to take the chance and take the ride, call Sam Bush, whatever. I hope it inspires others the way it inspired me. When I met these guys, I lived three and a half hours away on a good day, but I saw what was going on and wanted to be a part of it. That meant getting in my car and driving to Denver multiple times a week to practice and learn the material. People thought I was crazy, but if you want something, you’ve got to go for it and give it your all. When you do that, amazing things can happen.

This whole experience has been a case in point of that, especially with the Sam Bush thing and making that call. We didn’t sit there and second guess ourselves about it and look at what happened. It’s always worth your time to give it a shot. You never know where the ride will take you. For me, that’s what this is all about.

Photo Credit: Jeff Fasano

Vince Gill Has Done It All (Part 2)

Posted on by Justin Hiltner

Poaching from Elvis, well over 50,000,000 Vince Gill fans can’t be wrong.

The longevity Gill discussed in Part 1 of this interview has taken him from bluegrass beginnings to a genre-inclusive 50 years as one of country’s most beloved and sought-after artists.

It’s not always been easy, however. No one, regardless of talent or fan loyalty, is immune from freedom of the keyboard and Gill is no stranger to the highs and lows of public opinion. Mostly it’s outpourings of gratitude from the millions whose lives his music touches. Sometimes it’s claptrap about his now decade-long tenure in the Eagles, or venomous spewing over songs like “March On, March On,” from Secondhand Smoke, the second in his series of retrospective EPs being released monthly.

In Part 2 of his conversation with Good Country, Gill discusses, among other things, the aforementioned decade-long tenure with the Eagles, bullying – with a few choice words for those who inflict it – his scrolling habits, and he indulges us in a rapid-fire round of closing questions.

In the arc of this 50-year project, it is not unnoticed that Hotel California turns 50 this year. Do you have memories of listening to that album as a young man, as you now find yourself onstage playing those songs?

Vince Gill: I had all the Eagles records. We did a lot of their songs in my bluegrass days, and it’s completely surreal. I’m starting my tenth year of being in that band and continuing that legacy of songs. What I value most about getting to play with these guys, what I’ve learned most, is how important songs are – all the notes, all the licks, all the riffs, all that stuff. Getting to relearn that at this stage of life has been pretty profound in the way that I’m trying to write songs. I’m patient in the way I write. I’m patient to wait for it to come – the right words, to not settle on anything, and really edit and work and edit and work and continue to try to be mindful of how important the song is.

What I’m mindful of with the Eagles is the tragedy. More important than the fact that I get to do it is that if Glenn had not passed away, I would not have gotten to do this and I’m grateful I’m the one they called. I met all those guys in, I think, 1980, when I was living [in California]. In a million years, would I have ever thought this would have happened? No. But I am careful of how I couch everything, because it came from something tragic and I am respectful of that.

Glenn was a really good friend of mine, actually, and his son Deacon is doing a great job up there of carrying on his dad’s tradition. I think I’m a great fit for them in the way I play guitar and sing, and sing harmony, and play all the instruments I do. I’m not saying I’m better than anybody else they could have gotten. I’m just saying what I do suits them really well.

Jedd Hughes described you as “one of the greatest band leaders I’ve ever worked with. He’s listening to everything and everyone, always, so you can read his cues pretty easily.” First part of the question: Where did you learn to lead?

Because I’m a musician, I think I come at it different and I operate under the mindset that every note is equal. You’re not more important because you’re the lead singer. You’re not more important because you play the lead solo in the song. I value every note the same. Spending my life in the studio like I have, knowing what you play and do has to sit well and play well with others, you have to listen to everybody else.

It’s amazing what you can accomplish if you don’t care who gets the credit. Sometimes people play only to be noticed and that doesn’t necessarily constitute the right thing for the song. They say in Nashville all the time, “Just serve the song.” That’s all I’ve ever tried to do. If someone’s playing something and doing something, don’t do something to distract it. Do something to enhance it, to support it.

Second part: How does that translate to arrangements and contributions from the musicians you work with?

Great players all listen to each other and you’re dealing with a caliber of musicians that already know what not to do, so you don’t have to waste time going, “Hey, don’t play that, that’s too much, that’s not necessary.” Every time I’m in there playing, I take every note, examine it, and make it move me, make it sit just right.

Once again, if you’re playing with that caliber of people, which I fortunately am – my band is usually made up of a lot of studio musicians and amazing players – they like playing with me because I’m a player, too. I’m not just someone up there singing the songs. So I think I have their respect, and that points you once again towards, “What’s the best thing for the song? What’s the best arrangement idea? What’s the best part to play? What’s the best part not to play?” That’s it in a nutshell.

I’m surrounded by musicians that can all play me under the table, straight up. That’s the truth. I’m grateful to have them, grateful to get to play with them, and it makes for a very democratic spirit. Even in the way we record, I’m not heavy-handed. I’m not telling people what to play. Oftentimes we’ll be in there and they’ll say, “Do you like this?” I go, “I don’t have any idea. I’ve never even heard this song before. I know I wrote it, but we’re in here trying to figure it out, so we’re just going to figure it out all together.”

It creates a great spirit in there if everybody feels like they’re all walking on equal ground, everybody has a right to an opinion, everybody has a right to try something, nobody gets shut down, nobody gets put off. It’s an amazing experience. I don’t ever do demos with my songs. I just write them and then I show them to the guys on the floor. I go, “This is how it goes. Let’s figure it out.” They naturally gravitate towards something great and you just follow them off the cliff! It’s wonderful to watch other people’s gifts.

Earlier you described yourself as “the happiest son of a bitch in the world” who just loves sad songs. In that happiness, however, you have experienced much grief. Your faith is strong. Have you ever lost or questioned it during times of loss?

When I think about faith, I don’t think of it so much [from] the religious point of view. I think faith in humanity – more than Baptist or Methodist, or heaven or hell, or any of that stuff. None of these questions have ever been answered, so to pretend you know the answers seems a little, I don’t know, pretentious almost. That might not be a good word. But, no. It all comes from loving deep. The people I love, I love them deeply. They matter to me.

Music is where I go to grieve. It’s where I go to get through loss. It’s where all those things are. I tell everybody it’s cheaper than therapy. I just write about it.

I never feel the need to fix everything in my life. My relationship with my dad, if it was funky or whatever, I said, “It’s not my place to change him. It’s my job to accept him.” Once I could do that, we had a great relationship. You don’t have to be like me for me to like you. You don’t have to think like I do for me to like you.

I’ve been told more often than not, “Why I like your songs is you are able to say what I wish I could say. You are able to express feelings I have that I don’t know how to.” Maya Angelou sought me out and asked me to come and meet her when she was in Nashville years ago. She told me, “‘Go Rest High’ was a lifesaver to me. It helped me get through the loss of my brother.” Those kinds of things make you go, “I’m going to try to find a way to be emotional about things and not only help myself, but help other people too.” I think if you can portray in a story what someone’s going through, you have a chance to make people feel better.

You can’t name-drop Maya Angelou and just go on to the next question! We need to back up a little bit.

She was speaking at Vanderbilt and wanted to meet. [My wife] Amy [Grant] and I went and afterward we got to go back and say hi. She said, “You mean a lot to me, because your song helped me get through one of the hardest times of my life.” It was a great visit.

You’ve released the fourth EP in your series. Which chapter is this and do you know what’s to follow?

It’s uptempo-y and groove-y, kind of like “Liza Jane” and “One More Last Chance” and some of those fun songs. Each record is, on purpose, similar-driven. The record after this fourth one will be a lot of real country-country stuff, real traditional stuff. The one after that is going to be more like “I Still Believe In You” and “Don’t Let Our Love Start Slippin’ Away,” from a more rocking side. I don’t want to say the word “pop,” but it is. It feels like an Eagles record or a Fleetwood Mac record at times. The inspirations are all in there.

The one after that is real bluesy R&B-ish. Are you hip to Lamont Landers? He’s a soul singer from Alabama. You look at him and go, “There’s no way this voice is coming out of that dude.” He does all these really cool things. I found him and I got him to come and sing on one of my songs that’s coming out later in the year. He’s just such a cool dude. I’ve been trying to turn people on to him.

How did you find him?

Scrolling.

You’re a scroller!

Oh, heavily guilty. I tell Amy it’s my TV now instead of channel surfing. Once in a while you’ll come upon a great young musician, or a great young singer, or a great comedian. There’s so many options, and if you stop on something, it’ll start giving you hundreds of things just like that.

The algorithm gets you.

Yeah, exactly. But it’s entertaining, and I found a couple of people to track down and
have them sing on my record because I like what they do.

What do you scroll?

YouTube, Facebook, Instagram. Most of the stuff is pointless, but there’s a nugget once in a while.

How do you handle the cruelty of social media? It can get to anyone, especially when it’s directed toward you.

It can, if you let it. That’s the life we live in now. You can’t go perform and not have everybody have a camera out and put it up and showing it and seeing it. You have a bad night and everybody’s going to rip you for it. It’s like, “How much negativity can you continue putting out there, saying negative things?” It’s never going to stop, you know that, but it’s still entertaining to read.

I read it to be informed and I don’t mind taking it. I’ve lived with critics being critical of everything I’ve ever done. It comes with the territory. If you’re brave enough to stand up there and speak through a microphone, you know you’re going to get judged to some degree. Once in a while, somebody will say something and I say, “That’s fair. That’s truthful.” Other people will say things and I go, “You don’t even know what the hell you’re talking about, but you have an opinion that’s inflammatory towards me, and you couldn’t be more wrong.” I know that, so it doesn’t have an impact.

Sadly, people have to get on there, the keyboard warriors. They think they finally have a voice. Being able to post and have an opinion, they think that gives them a voice. But in the grand scheme of things, it doesn’t. I know that, so I just take it with a grain of salt and move on.

Perhaps being 68 years old with experience and success makes that easier than for a young person just starting out.

People are still critical of me being in the Eagles. They say, “Now it’s a cover band and you shouldn’t be there,” blah, blah, blah. You know it’s coming, so press on. Say whatever you want. Say it to my face and see what happens to you!

I can’t control any of it. I can control me. I can control my heart, what my heart thinks, what my heart feels. If you hate what I do, that’s okay. A lot of people don’t like what I do. I’m used to that. You’re not going to stop me.

Earlier we talked about hope. I just hope people respond. I don’t mind if they respond negatively. You don’t want that, you’d rather not, but it’s funny how you can get a hundred good reviews on a record and one bad and you only remember the bad one. That’s human nature. It’s not a weakness. It just goes to show how being cruel and negative towards someone has an impact.

I think about the times I was in school and was talked to in a negative way, and how it lasted. I remembered it forever. There was a girl I was in a band with for a little bit. She sang in this choir at the school that was really well thought of, and the choir director told her, “You are wasting your time with that guy and his banjo and bluegrass. He’s a fool.” And I just want to go, “Na-na-na-na-na!” But you remember it. And an English teacher that kicked me out of the class for saying something she didn’t like and painted me a certain way. You remember it.

My own kids, one teacher said to my youngest daughter, “My dog has more manners than you.” Things like that … my hundred-year-old mother is still pissed off about that! She’s still, “I’d like to get my hands on that teacher!” We’ve got a good bit of redneck in us!

I watch my sweet wife take slings and arrows all the time and the way she handles it is so beautiful to watch and so inspiring. It’s helped me do the same thing.

Can you play everything you hear in your head?

Probably. I hope so! It’s funny you brought that up, because being a musician and a singer, people say, “How do you get inspired to sing?” or “How do you get inspired to play?” Well, before I play something, in my head, I’m saying, “How would you sing this?” And when I’m getting ready to sing something, I ask myself, “How would you play this? What kind of rhythm? What kind of phrasing?” All those things.

I think the real difference [between] a good singer and a great singer is the way they phrase. Ray Charles could phrase like nobody’s business. Jerry Lee Lewis, when he sang country songs, could phrase like nobody else. George Jones could phrase like nobody else. You go on and on and look at all the greatest singers, and they’re unique because more so the way they phrased than how many notes they sang.

What is the difference between playing guitar and being a guitarist?

Oh, man. I don’t know if there is. I think it’s the same thing. It all comes from the same heart. It all comes from the same ears. I just play what I think fits. I think that’s what being a great guitarist is – playing what fits.

I saw something the other day that said, “I refuse to name who I think the greatest guitar player is,” and it makes sense to me because there’s no such thing. Everybody goes at it in a different way and has a different spirit about it, has a different way they want to play and statement they want to make. Then it becomes a matter of your preference, of what you like best, that defines what the best guitar player is.

I just like people that are gifted, and people that are musical, and they play what’s in their hearts and what they feel. If you feel it like they do, game over. If you don’t, you move on. Not every great guitar player moves me. It might move you. I think we’re lucky that we can be subjective and not have to all feel the same way about the same things.

Let’s close with a lightning round. Anything goes, whatever comes to mind. An album you wish you had played on.

Hotel California.

A song you wish you had written.

“’Till I Gain Control Again” by Rodney Crowell.

A session in which you wish you could have been a fly on the wall.

“Together Again” by Buck Owens.

A concert you attended that made your head spin.

Paul McCartney.

A guitar solo you wish you could claim as your own.

Oh, gosh. I might have to go with a Chet Atkins solo, because he’s the first person I ever saw play live when I was a little boy.

Editor’s Note: Check out part one of our Good Country conversation with Vince Gill here.

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Photo Credit: David McClister

BGS 5+5: Trey Hedrick

Posted on by Justin Hiltner

Artist: Trey Hedrick
Hometown: Wilkesville, Ohio
Latest Album: Sing, Appalachia (released February 20, 2026)

What other art forms – literature, film, dance, painting, etc. – inform your music?

Literature. It has probably helped my writing more than anything besides the act of writing itself. Wendell Berry has had a huge influence on me and he’s far and away my favorite writer. His prose is exceptional. There is a restraint and steadiness to it. He’s extremely prolific and consistent, which isn’t an easy thing to achieve. He says a great deal with very little and I learn from that every time I read a page.

There are many great writers I draw from in the same way: McCarthy, Kingsolver, McMurtry, Leopold, Abbey, Rooney, Hemingway, Faulkner, Burroughs – to name a few. I read widely, but tend to gravitate toward certain styles when I’m working on a project of my own. I’m always reading and if I’m not I make myself feel bad until I do. It’s a big part of the peace my wife and I have built into our days. When I’m in a creative season, I am a bit more intentional about my picks.

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

I love the out of doors. I grew up on a cattle farm in Appalachia and was usually either outside or in trouble. I still spend as much time as I can fishing and hiking and – something that is likely unknown about me – I love rock climbing and have traveled the world climbing. I am also a geologist in my straight job, which especially early on kept me working outside.

Nature shows up in almost every one of my songs. It is not something I reach for. It is just part of how I see things. Being outside has always been another place I find peace. If things are bad, going outside almost always makes them better to a varying degree for me

Admittedly, I do get tired of winter and the blues that come with it. That makes its way into the songs, too.

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

I don’t think much about genre. My songs usually start on an acoustic guitar, so there’s naturally some bluegrass and country in them. That’s the language I grew up around. But I’m not trying to recreate anything. I don’t read music or know much theory and I don’t really know what rules I might be breaking. I’ve always had a good ear and I let that guide me. I’m lucky to have close friends who are incredible musicians, and they’d dress me down if something was off.

If someone needs a label, Americana works fine. Beyond that, I try not to overthink it or limit myself.

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

I love hip-hop, R&B, neo-soul type music. I especially love ’90s early 2000s neo-soul. D’Angelo, Erykah Badu, Lauryn Hill, Tevin Campbell, Mario, etc.

I enjoy those genres as much if not more, at times, than bluegrass and country. It’s like reading, I put on the music I need in the moment and I don’t limit myself. I guess that would surprise people, but I think it comes across in my singing some and may present in future sonic choices as well. We’ll see.

Since food and music go so well together, what is your dream pairing of a meal and a musician?

Fried potatoes from a cast iron skillet, greasy beans from Mamaw’s garden, macaroni noodles with tomato sauce, and a chicken fried steak. I could think of a lot of musicians to share that meal with, but the one who keeps coming to mind is Jerry Reed. He was hilarious and super intelligent. A great singer with excellent tone, and he was even a writer for Elvis on a couple tracks.

There’s a story about Elvis asking for Jerry to play on “Guitar Man,” a song Jerry wrote. Folks on Elvis’s team had to go get Jerry from the river where he was fishing to come to the studio and play the guitar part. None of the other session musicians could get it quite right. Legend. He isn’t really revered in modern memory for how brilliant of a technical player he was. He’d be a fun person to share that meal with.

Photo Credit: Chris Heidl

Vince Gill Has Done It All (Part 1)

Posted on by Justin Hiltner

Vince Gill doesn’t give interviews; he gives conversations – lengthy, engaging conversations filled with the same reflection and storytelling that make his songwriting so relatable and successful. Factor in his enviable mastery of guitar and other instruments and the result is a well-rounded artist who has won 18 CMA awards, 22 GRAMMY awards, and eight Academy of Country Music Awards.

In 2025, he was presented with the CMA Willie Nelson Lifetime Achievement Award, and this year, on May 6, he will receive the Ken Burns American Heritage Prize. He’s been a member of the Grand Ole Opry since 1991 and in 2005 was entered into the Nashville Songwriters Hall of Fame. Two years later, he was inducted into the Country Music Hall of Fame.

Over the course of 21 albums his sales exceed thirty million with 45 chart singles. Coming up is a summer tour, which will wrap with a six-night residency at the Ryman Auditorium, while continuing his ongoing schedule with the Eagles. All of this is only a cursory glance at his many accolades.

Gill’s accomplishments, and the experiences that accompany them, are at the core of his latest project, 50 Years From Home, a yearlong series of monthly EPs marking the fiftieth anniversary of his leaving home to pursue a music career. Each collection features themed new songs and revisited classics, with photos of select guitars on the covers. The EPs are introduced via detailed conversations with friend and colleague Charlie Worsham – watch all episodes on Gill’s YouTube channel.

Down At The Borderline, released February 13, is the fourth and latest EP in the series, while the next installment, Lonely’s What I Do, already arrives this Friday, March 13. A few weeks prior to the release of Down At The Borderline, Gill made himself available for more interviews and conversations, including a talk with Good Country.

At this point, it’s difficult to imagine anything Vince Gill hasn’t done. In fact, there are two key things, neither of which he cares to pursue:

“I’ve never sent a text,” he says, “because I prefer talking to people. What you find out [with texts] is how many people really don’t want to talk to you!” And, “I’ve never posted anything on the internet,” although he does have a scrolling habit, which he gladly admitted to during this discussion.

As you move through endless interviews around these EPs, is there something you’ve always wanted to talk about but have never been asked? Now’s your chance to tell the world!

Vince Gill: I wouldn’t have a clue! I never was much of a planner. I think it’s a blessing that I just live in the moment. I don’t look ahead, I don’t look back much, and there’s not a lot of regrets in my life. I figure the mistakes I made were valuable to learn something. I never planned any of this. I didn’t sit down and have a diary that I’d go, “When I’m this age, I want to have done this and this.” I just answered the phone.

You should probably give classes on that, because this is an industry of nonstop worry: What’s going to happen? Will this work? Will this not work? To move from project to project, stage to stage of your career with that mindset is impressive.

I started out with absolutely not one dollar, so money has never been the reason for any of it. I bought a guitar when I was 18 years old and I moved away from home. It was an old pre-war Martin that was perfect for bluegrass. I spent every dime I had on it and I didn’t worry. I said, “My rent’s $15 a month, I’ll make a couple hundred bucks a week when we work, so I’ll be fine.”

Amazing.

Speaking of going from stage to stage of your career, the EPs are each a chapter told with collections of songs. Tell us more.

The majority of it is fairly new. From the time I started in 1975, there was no reason to have a publishing deal for a long time. Even after I had a record deal, I didn’t see the need because I had a place for my songs to land on my own records. I never partnered up with a publisher, to give away half the money, to give a monthly draw to help pay my rent or whatever. I was able to always pay the rent somehow – my house note, whatever it was – with playing and singing.

Three or four years ago, Jody Williams, who’s a lifelong publisher in Nashville and a friend of mine for 40-something years now, called me and said, “You’ve never had a publisher. Would you consider letting me manage your songwriting for a while? I think you still have a lot to say as a songwriter.” I said, “Yeah, I’ll try that out.”

He would call great songwriters and say, “Would you like to write a song with Vince?” I was never a very good self-promoter, so I would never do that on my own. I just let it unfold with people I would meet. So it started me down this path of writing a lot of music, and over the last three or four years I’ve written twice as many songs as I’ve recorded on this new 50 Years From Home project. I think I’m writing the best songs I’ve ever written. With time you should get better, and I think I have.

I don’t want to check out someday and have all these songs lost in a desk drawer somewhere, so I’ve started recording them all. It’s a different world now, a different way. If you want to release 75 songs, you can do it. You don’t have to have one album with 10 songs on it anymore. So I started thinking about what it would be. My first conception was to release two songs a week, like an A-side and B-side of a 45. “It’s Monday, it’s time for a couple new Vince songs.” The record company came up with the idea of, “Why don’t you do a series of EPs and have six or seven songs on each one?” I said, “That sounds cool. We’ll put one out a month.”

That’s where the whole thing started. I was trying to find a way to put all this out. I realize at this point in my life, I’m almost 69, I don’t have as much time left to be creative as I’ve had to this point, obviously. How much more it matters now is palpable. It really means something to me to be creative, and if I see myself improving, I want to nurture and foster that and continue, because it’s so dear to me, being musical, being creative, coming up with an idea, coming up with a story that could potentially move somebody, touch somebody. It’s unbelievable to be able to have that gift, to be able to do that. So I’m trying to take full advantage of it.

But 68 or 69 today is not the 68 or 69 of our parents’ years. When you’re a kid, your parents turn 50 and it seems ancient.

That’s true. My mom’s a hundred years old.

See? You have many more years to go, especially if you’re still 17 in your head, which happens in this business.

Yeah, and I am. I don’t feel any different than when I pulled out of the driveway and took off. I still have the same love and I’m so drawn to playing music. It’s such a huge part of me. I tell everybody, “My mom’s a hundred and I hope I’m really her son, so I have those genes! For all I know, she might have rented me out of a yard in southern Oklahoma somewhere!” But my dad checked out early. He died at 65 – and I was afraid of being 65. There’s so many instances of people passing at the same age as their parents and whatnot.

I’ve heard from others that it’s a strange feeling when you reach the age when a parent passed.

Absolutely. But my dad drank a lot, he smoked two packs a day, and he didn’t take very good care of himself. I don’t think I have too many of those qualities. I don’t smoke and I don’t drink. I eat bad, but that’s about it.

You’ve stated many times that your goal was always to be a recording musician. With reality shows and social media, do young players have that same goal, or is a lot of it about chasing clicks and stardom? Are you concerned about the future of musicianship?

No, because there are plenty of young kids out there that can play their brains out. There’s so many of them that you don’t worry about it. I tell people all the time, “If American Idol was on in 1948, Little Jimmy Dickens would’ve been on it.” I don’t really care for those shows – and not in a bad way, because a lot of talented people go on them – but sadly, you don’t see that really bear out with a lot of artists coming from those shows that have longevity. They have that moment, but we’re so ready to slide our thumb and move on to the next scrolling thing. It’s the same way with those shows: “The season’s over. Okay, who are the new ones?” And I never like seeing creativity be a contest.

But I don’t worry too much. You see someone like Sierra Hull, who can play better than anybody in the whole world, and Michael Cleveland, and so many that come along that can completely annihilate their instruments. It’s beautiful to watch. I don’t think that’ll ever go away.

Does AI-created “music” concern you?

Of course, but when I’m asked about it, I say, “The people who create it, deep down, they know they haven’t done anything. They know they’ve done nothing.”

As a recording and performing guitarist, singer, and songwriter over a lot of years, how has your approach changed? Your technique, your picking style, your ear, your tone?

It’s a combination of all of those things. I’ve spent the latter years realizing what I don’t need, what I don’t need to do, what I don’t need to play, what I don’t need to sing, what I don’t need to say in the lyrics. To me, the beauty of it is your willingness to try to say the most with the least.

I like my singing better now than I did when I had hits. I much prefer the way I sing and play my songs today. That’s motivation enough, that I feel like I’m better now than I ever was. My ears have never lied to me, and with that, if I feel like I’m making progress, that’s all the reason in the world to keep doing it. If I start wheezing like an old woman, I probably won’t wanna go out there and sing. But, thank God, that hasn’t happened yet,

With music, the more you do it, the more you learn. The point of it is not to impress, but to move people. If you can move people with what you play and sing and write, that’s the real gift. That’s when you really get something that matters out of it, rather than a big “Woo, that was incredible! That was impressive.” That’s fleeting in a way. I like the long haul.

I could have very easily stopped working on other people’s records and being a sideman and a harmony singer and guitar player and what have you. But I love doing that so much, because I always thought it was a harder job to complement somebody and what they’re doing, more so than doing what you want and having everybody follow you. It took more talent to do that – better ears, bigger ears, that kind of stuff. So I continue to do that. I’ve worked on over a thousand artists’ records in the last 50 years. The diversity of that, the willingness to go into any kind of world of music and try, and not just be shortsighted and only do this and only do that – I love all of it. I’ll find something good in any of it. If I can play a part in making something better that’s being done, then that’s a good feeling.

Can you draw a through line from your bluegrass roots to what you’ve done and what you do now?

“When I Call Your Name” wouldn’t have sounded like it did had I not played bluegrass. That high lonesome sound was totally taken out of my love and life of bluegrass. A song on one of my new records [Secondhand Smoke, EP 2] is called “Hill People,” with [harmony vocalist] John Meador – great singer, great player, it just blows my mind how good he is. That sounds the way it does, it was written the way it was, because of my history of bluegrass.

I was never one of those guys that [would say], “I can only play bluegrass and it has to be traditional.” I loved New Grass Revival. They were different than Bill Monroe and I loved it all. If you take whatever’s great about something and cast the rest aside, then you’ve done your job. I’m not critical of young people that don’t do it the way I did it, or the way my heroes did it. That doesn’t serve anybody any good, to be critical of stuff. I remember hearing Billy Strings talk about how he would go to jam sessions and felt unwelcomed, and that killed me. I felt so bad for him.

I experienced that once when I was 17. We were playing some bluegrass festival, a hardcore traditional-minded festival. We were up there playing “Rocky Road Blues,” which is a Bill Monroe song, but we were doing it real bluesy. The promoters kicked us out of the festival and said, “You can’t be playing that kind of music!”

As they were kicking us out, Jim & Jesse were playing Chuck Berry’s “Johnny B. Goode.” I said, “Now wait a minute. We’re playing a Bill Monroe song and we’re going to get kicked out, and they’re playing ‘Johnny B. Goode’ by Chuck Berry? What’s cool about that?” They go, “Their suits match. Get outta here!”

I’ve known Sam Bush for 50-something years. The story he tells about Monroe is that he said, “What is it you call that music you play?” Sam said, “We call it New Grass.” He goes, “Yeah, I hate that.” That kills me, but it didn’t impact Sam one bit. But that hardline thing – I don’t go for it.

You’ve said that the role of the artist is to speak for others. Are there songs that speak for you, or to you, in those moments?

I like the things that are the most honest, that are not trying to be something they’re not. I’m not a fan of singers that alter the sound of their voice to make it do something it doesn’t naturally do. I heard Merle Haggard say, “Man, just tell the truth.” That’s where I’m finding the biggest inspiration in songs is being truthful. I think the truth has always been the greatest thing you can lean on.

People talk about country music, and if you could point somebody to what you think country music is, I’d say Merle Haggard’s “Mama Tried.” How it starts– “I turned 21 in prison doing life without parole.” That’s pretty dark. That’s pretty sad. And then, “No one could steer me right, but Mama tried.” There’s your hope.

One thing they’ve never taken away from me is hope. Even though they quit playing my records on radio stations and I don’t have hits anymore, I’m always hopeful that something will slide through and move people. I had hope when I made my first record at 16 or 17 years old, and lo and behold, some radio station played it and I heard it in my pickup truck. That instilled a hope in me that’s never faded. They can pass on songs, they can not play them, they can do all that, but they have never dinged my hope in my heart for what it is that I want to try to do.

Where were you in your truck when you heard yourself on the radio for the first time?

I-40, Oklahoma City. I was driving and all of a sudden they started playing “July You’re a Woman.” It’s a John Stewart song and we’d done a bluegrass version of it. I was singing lead. I think some other bluegrassers had done that same song. I’m driving and all of a sudden they started playing it on the radio station and I get on the CB radio and start screaming, “You’re not going to believe it! They’re playing our record on the radio!” Truckers were coming back saying, “Hey, you sound good, kid! Hang in there.” Wow.

The first record I ever made, I heard on the radio. It put that dose of hope in me that has never faded.

Editor’s Note: Read part two of our Good Country conversation with Vince Gill here.

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Photo Credit: David McClister

You Gotta Hear This: New Music From Brit Taylor, Trey Hensley, and More

Posted on by Justin Hiltner

Happy Friday! We have new music for you to enjoy and, as always, You Gotta Hear This.

To start us off, Chicago Farmer (singer-songwriter Cody Diekhoff), shares a nostalgic and stripped-down country song, “The Twenty Dollar Bill,” that pays tribute to his grandparents and the “family roots” that he takes with him wherever he goes. The track is from his brand new album, Homeaid, which is out today. Kentuckian country singer, songwriter, and artist Brit Taylor has a new album today as well, Land of the Forgotten. To celebrate, we’re sharing “Done Pretending,” a song from the project co-written by Taylor, Adam Wright, and Jon Decious that decries relationships that are all “take” and no “give.”

There’s plenty of excellent guitar picking included here, too. Bryan Sutton returns to the roundup, this time with blues guitarist Joe Bonamassa in tow. The pair duet on Bill Monroe’s “Blue Night,” acoustic and electric guitars in shred-tastic dialogue on the classic number. The track comes from Sutton’s upcoming duets album, From Roots to Branches. Then, bluegrass and Americana flatpicker Trey Hensley calls on his friend and fellow guitarist Molly Tuttle for his new single, “Going and Gone.” Hensley penned the song with Bobby Starnes and features the bluesy, breakneck picking for which he has become known.

To wrap up, we have a new music video featuring lush and groovin’ Americana from YARN, a genre blurring-and-blending outfit that has been performing and recording for more than 20 years. For a song considering existence, fate, and the rat race at large, “Might as Well Be King” has an exquisite, gritty vibe – an excellent harbinger for the group’s new album, Saturday Night Sermon, arriving in April.

Whether your tastes lean towards bluegrass, blues, country, or Americana – You Gotta Hear This!

Chicago Farmer, “The Twenty Dollar Bill”

Artist: Chicago Farmer
Hometown: Delavan, Illinois
Song: “The Twenty Dollar Bill”
Album: Homeaid
Release Date: March 6, 2026
Label: LoHi Records

In Their Words: “When I was in high school my grandma started giving me a $5 bill to keep in my shoe for emergencies. When I told her I was going to be a musician she upped it to a $10. When I told her I was moving to Chicago she said, ‘You’re going to need a $20.’

“My grandfather lived pretty much his whole life in the same farmhouse that he grew up in. He was a storyteller from a small town and sharp as a tack. Grandma was a city girl, she grew in Peoria, Illinois. The home of Richard Pryor. She rode the city bus and had street smarts. Together, there wasn’t much they didn’t know or couldn’t fix or remedy. Grandpa passed away a few years ago just shy of 102. Grandma will be 98 this summer. They’re farmers, they’re veterans, and they’re my family roots that I take with me wherever I go. In song and in my heart. This song is for them.” – Cody Diekhoff, Chicago Farmer

Trey Hensley, “Going and Gone” Featuring Molly Tuttle

Artist: Trey Hensley
Hometown: Jonesborough, Tennessee
Song: “Going and Gone” featuring Molly Tuttle
Album: Can’t Outrun The Blues
Release Date: March 6, 2026 (album)
Label: Pinecastle Records

In Their Words: “I wrote ‘Going and Gone’ with Bobby Starnes the same day that he and I wrote ‘Can’t Outrun the Blues.’ And I immediately loved both of those songs. It’s one of those story songs that just falls together and paints a picture without spelling out every detail. ‘Going and Gone’ was the first song we recorded for the project – and I was thrilled to get my friend and one of my favorite guitar players and singer-songwriters, Molly Tuttle, to join in on guitar and vocals. We had a blast getting to work together in the studio and I think that comes through in the final recording!” – Trey Hensley

Bryan Sutton, “Blue Night” with Joe Bonamassa

Artist: Bryan Sutton
Hometown: Nashville, Tennessee
Song: “Blue Night” with Joe Bonamassa
Album: From Roots to Branches
Release Date: March 6, 2026 (single)
Label: Mountain Home Music Company

In Their Words: “I couldn’t be more thrilled to have Joe Bonamassa on this duets project. I’ve been a fan of his for a long time. I wasn’t sure what he would play when we cut this song, because all of this was acoustic. I love that he played electric guitar. I love the fact that it’s a different kind of song for this record and being able to interpret an old Bill Monroe song like this was just really, really fun.” – Bryan Sutton

Track Credits:
Bryan Sutton – Acoustic guitar, vocal
Joe Bonamassa – Electric guitar

Brit Taylor, “Done Pretending”

Artist: Brit Taylor
Hometown: Hindman, Kentucky
Song: “Done Pretending”
Album: Land of the Forgotten
Release Date: March 6, 2026
Label: RidgeTone Records, distributed by Thirty Tigers

In Their Words: “I wrote this tune with Adam Wright and Jon Decious – two of the most clever humans I know.

“I don’t know if other women have ever felt this way, but I have been in more than a few relationships that were a whole lot of take and basically no give. Then I realized that once you’ve given all you can give and done all you can do, you reach a point where there’s nothing left. No sadness, no anger, no regret – you are just done. That’s where the character is at in this song. She’s basically emotionless about it. She’s just done and she’s at peace with it.” – Brit Taylor

YARN, “Might As Well Be King”

Artist: YARN
Hometown: New York City, New York
Song: “Might As Well Be King”
Album: Saturday Night Sermon
Release Date: March 6, 2026 (single); April 24, 2026 (album)
Label: 333 Entertainment

In Their Words: “Let the good times roll. We don’t know why we’re here or how any of this existence even works. Is it all fated? Is it all free will? So many folks in competition with each other fighting over some made up ‘green god,’ because they’re taught that is the way. But, it’s entirely up to us as individuals to define our own way. Nothing is law, there are no rules, this is whatever we make it. So the point of this song is nothing more than, don’t put too much stock in these ridiculous systems we’ve created. Have fun being human, embrace your human form and being able to do whatever you want with it; it doesn’t last long.” – Blake Christiana

Track Credits:
Blake Christiana – Lead vocals, guitar
Andy Thomas – Lead guitar, backing vocals
Rick Bugel – Bass
Robert Bonhomme – Drums
Damian Calcagne – Hammond B3

Photo Credit: Brit Taylor by Sammy Hearn; Trey Hensley by Cora Wagoner.