Tag: bluegrass

On ‘Quiet Flame,’ Caitlin Canty Finds Truth and Hope in the Middle

Posted on by Justin Hiltner

Caitlin Canty is in the middle — in the middle of moving houses (behind her when we connected on Zoom this spring is a Jenga tower of bankers boxes) and in the middle of prepping an album release, which we’re in the middle of talking about when she isn’t in the middle of pushing a pair of overeager dogs from her lap (“These dogs!”), all of which is taking place in the middle of her toddler’s nap.

The moving, the music, and the motherhood are taking place in the middle of her life (Canty turned forty-one in January) and the middle of her career: Quiet Flame, her latest record, is her fourth.

Oceans of ink have been spilled on beginnings and endings, on best new artists, and lifetime achievements. We rarely think about the middle, write about it, or sing about it. But Caitlin Canty does.

Quiet Flame is a dispatch from — and a celebration of — the middle; it is a testament to the in-between, to the precious spaces between day and night, birth and death, here and home. It is also a rallying cry, a call not to run from middle moments, but to revel in them. “Breakneck boy goes speeding by / In a hell-bent race to some finish line,” Canty sings on the album’s opening track, “Blue Sky Moon.” “I ain’t going with him… Gonna take my time in the middle of the road.”

This is a new message for Canty, one that asks the listener not to “get up before the road pulls you under,” as Canty sang on 2015’s Reckless Skyline, but to accept the road as it is, accept that it may pull us under, and enjoy the ride. “If the pandemic and [2020 Nashville] tornado taught me anything,” Canty says, “It’s all the things I thought I could control are out of my control. The natural world is beautiful. It’s also terrifying,” she exclaims with a half laugh, “it can just crush you in a second.” (That tornado missed her house by thirty feet.)

This new vision, however, hasn’t diminished Canty’s optimism. With a heightened sense of all that is lost and lose-able, Canty offers not less hope, but more. “Let it roll, let it ride / Let your sweet heart open wide,” she sings on “Pull the Moon.”

“I let go of a lot of things I thought were my fault, or my responsibility, things I thought I could do everything about, or take care of, or succeed at,” she explains. “And what I found was an ability to be happy in devastating moments in time. Even when it gets dark and troubled, to find a way not to ignore that — to address it — but to stay buoyant.”

It is this clear-sighted courage — what amounts to Canty’s profound musical and lyrical authenticity — that not only sets Canty apart, but draws so many of the acoustic world’s greatest artists into her corner. “Caitlin just has such a magnificent view of the world,” Grammy Award-winning guitarist and Quiet Flame producer Chris Eldridge says. “It’s so strong and true and clear and honest. You just believe it.”

Among those drawn to Canty’s vision — to her clarity, honesty, believability — are some of the greatest artists in contemporary music, making the Quiet Flame band a bona-fide acoustic supergroup: on banjo, mandolin, and harmony vocals you have singer-songwriter Sarah Jarosz (another Grammy winner); on bass, Paul Kowert of Punch Brothers and Hawktail (yet another Grammy winner); and on fiddle, Brittany Haas (also of Hawktail and the newest member of Punch Brothers), who is widely considered the greatest fiddler of her generation.

“Every artist has a vision,” Kowert says, “But I specifically would say I believe Caitlin. I believe her about what she’s seeing in the songs.”

“There’s such conviction,” Haas adds. “It’s so clearly from the heart.”

For Jarosz, Canty’s super-distinction is the totality of her authenticity and an unusual ability for Canty to “sound like herself” in every domain of her artistry. “Her ability to be herself within her songs has always been very obvious to me, before I even knew her,” Jarosz says. “My favorite singers sound like themselves when they’re talking — their singing voice is a genuine extension of them, their personality. Tim O’Brien has that, Gillian Welch has that, Caitlin has that. It’s almost like Caitlin’s voice is so true —it’s like it’s not an option for her to be anyone but herself. And the songs are also that way.”

The songs of Quiet Flame mark not only a musical achievement, but an achievement of spirit. “It takes a very self-assured, fully realized human being to be able to make a record that’s this exposed,” Jarosz continues. “The record takes its time. It takes a very mature musician — and person — to have the courage to let these songs unfold the way they do.”

It is no small feat that Canty manages to make this deliberately slow journey, this taking our time in the middle of the road, so arresting. Such is a testament, of course, to the music as music; to Canty’s voice (“Caitlin, in her way, is as good a singer as exists,” Eldridge says); to her effortless melodic sensibility; to what Haas calls the unusual “variety and diversity of what [her] songs are like, what they allow and make room for texturally.” It is also a testament to the production vision of Eldridge, who Canty calls the perfect “co-pilot,” and to his attention to the “big picture.”

Each member of Canty’s band offers a tour de force on their instruments. In Canty’s words, Kowert is a “Multi-instrumentalist on his instrument… essential, the strongest foundation… my favorite bass player I’ve ever played with”; Haas is a “Flamethrower! Her fiddle is an electric guitar! It’s grit and mournfulness — not sad, defiant; not sorrowful, defiant”; Jarosz is “Just insanely good — insanely good singer, insanely beautiful instrumentalist — the most solid partner; she held it down!”

In turn, the band is quick to praise the rare musical freedom Canty affords them. “She makes so much space for other musicians in her music,” Haas says. “She’s really good at being like, ‘I hired you to be you,’ instead of, ‘I want you to do this very specific thing that involves only playing these four notes.’”

The result? The band gets to see their true selves in the work — even their best selves. “‘Odds of Getting Even’ is one of my favorite performances I’ve ever played,” Kowert remarks. “My playing on that song is really exemplary of something that I am uniquely able to do, which is bowing the bass that way, driving the rhythm with the bow.” Multi-instrumentalist Noam Pikelny (still another Grammy winner), who is featured on “I Don’t Think of You,” says much the same: “[It’s] easily one of my favorite examples of my playing captured on record.”

Most of all, however, the success of Quiet Flame’s slow burn is owed to the trust Canty engenders in her audience. It is a trust natural to Canty, but made all the more affecting by her decision, for the first time in her career, to make an entirely acoustic record. “Intimacy is just kind of baked into the nature of acoustic music,” Eldridge explains. “You just intuitively understand that what you’re hearing is what can happen in somebody’s living room. So when you commit to doing a string band record, you’re committing to a certain kind of intimacy. It casts the artist, and the songs, in a different light—in a light that asks the listener to lean in a little bit more, asks the listener to be a part of a moment.”

It is with the listener leaning in close, grounded in the moment with Quiet Flame, that Canty offers a vision both audacious and convincing, that she shares the unmistakable and unshakeable sense that all will be well; that even in the face of so many black holes, we too will be okay; that we, like Canty, will arrive “by the highway home” – a lyric after Robert Frost.

“They all told me love could feel this way,” she sings. “I never thought I would see the day.”

It is the peculiar gift of Caitlin Canty that when she says love can feel “this way” – or even that “nothing’s gone, only changed” – one can’t help but think she’s right.

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(See our full post on Caitlin Canty’s episode of Basic Folk here.) 

Photo Credit: David McClister

WATCH: Bibelhauser Brothers, “Place In The Sun”

Posted on by Justin Hiltner

Artist: Bibelhauser Brothers
Hometown: Louisville, Kentucky
Song: “Place In The Sun”
Album: Close Harmony
Release Date: June 15, 2023

In Their Words: “In the past few years, Louisville, Kentucky has been shaken to its core, amid a global pandemic, racial inequity, gun violence, and the fallout surrounding the death of Breonna Taylor. Our hometown, seemingly a microcosm of the country at large, has struggled with social justice and a level of political unrest not seen since the 1960s. During a time when it felt impossible to find bits of optimism on social media I stumbled upon a video from way back in 1969. It was an epic duet with Stevie Wonder and Tom Jones singing ‘Place In The Sun.’ In the video, the two superstars traded off singing powerful lead vocals, then switched back and fourth singing harmony parts. This reminded me of how Aaron and I have traded singing parts on many of our songs over the years. The lyrics gave me hope that we might soon find ourselves moving to a better place, and the image of Stevie & Tom singing together at the height of the civil rights movement was beyond inspiring. I knew right away, this was a song we should sing together, and I hope our interpretation of it moves and inspires a new generation.” – Adam Bibelhauser

Photo credit: Winston Garthwaite
Video credit: Brennan Clark

WATCH: Larry & Joe, “Linda Barinas”

Posted on by Justin Hiltner

Artist: Larry & Joe
Hometown: Durham, North Carolina
Song: “Linda Barinas”

In Their Words: “’Linda Barinas’ is a song so well known that most Venezuelans can sing along.

“Eladio Ramón Tarife composed ‘Linda Barinas’ to honor his homeland, Barinas. It’s part of the Llano region and where this style of music, llanera, originated.

“The typical música llanera rendition would include harp, cuatro, maracas, bass and vocals, which makes our harp and banjo version quite unorthodox. Nonetheless, many Venezuelan traditional musicians have taken note of how seamlessly the five-string banjo melds with their instrumentation.

“Though Venezuela and Appalachia are thousands of miles apart, our folk traditions aren’t so different, and the sounds of our strings come together like old friends. Who would’ve thought?” – Joe Troop

Photo Credit: Billie Wheeler

Zoe & Cloyd Made a Traditional Album – But Not the Way You Think

Posted on by Justin Hiltner

If you were to try to typify bluegrass as being about any one singular thing, that one thing might be family. Not just biological family, but musical family, chosen family, and the way the music survives generation to generation, passed down as a folkway and aural tradition. Often, though not always, this music is a family tradition, passed along family trees like an heirloom or like more typical family businesses.

John Cloyd Miller and Natalya Zoe Weinstein, bluegrass duo and band leaders of Zoe & Cloyd, have made a brand new album that, on the surface, might just seem like a standard bluegrass album paying homage to the folks who came before them, their forefathers. But Songs of Our Grandfathers is so much more complicated and nuanced, wrinkling a format that’s as old as these genres themselves: the tribute album. 

On the new record, released in May on Organic Records, John and Natalya pull songs from the catalogs of their musician grandfathers. Miller’s grandpa, Jim Shumate, was a renowned Western North Carolina fiddler who played a stint in Bill Monroe’s Blue Grass Boys and can be accurately credited with helping get Earl Scruggs the banjo gig that made him famous. Natalya’s grandfather, David Weinstein, was a working klezmer musician who fled unrest in Russia, moving to the U.S. 

The artful way this pair of musicians and life partners combine the styles of their families, of their youths, and of their present lives together, as touring, professional musicians, feels expansive, rich, and bold, like newgrass that’s never been newgrassed before. But, there’s a timelessness here, a patina, that speaks to the greater tradition this record can lay claim to perpetuating. (Thank goodness.) 

Songs of Our Grandfathers isn’t just nostalgia, heritage, lineage, legacy- and canon-building. It’s not just carrying on tradition for tradition’s sake. It’s effortlessly and wholly bluegrass because it innovates, it complicates, and it challenges its listeners to think outside of preconceived notions of what bluegrass, string band, and old-time music are. Because that’s exactly what bluegrass’s grandfathers, grandmothers, and grandparents were doing as they invented this music. 

We began our phone chat about the new album discussing each of their grandparents and their musical idiosyncrasies.

Can we start by talking about Jim Shumate? His presence is throughout the record and he’s influenced you both, can you tell us a bit about him and his music making? 

John Cloyd Miller: He was born in 1921 in Wilkes County, North Carolina, on a mountain called Chestnut Mountain. He started playing fiddle as a young boy, as a teenager. His older brother Mac, who was 10 years older – the same age as Bill Monroe – got him his first fiddle, which is a fiddle he kept his entire life and we actually have, now. It’s an old Sears & Roebuck Strad copy, but he played some tone into it! His Uncle Erby played fiddle so he heard him a lot growing up and then he got into Arthur Smith and all that kind of stuff. He moved to Hickory when he got older, when he was a young man, and was playing on the radio down there when Bill Monroe heard him and asked him to be in the Blue Grass Boys. That was the time that Stringbean was in the band and Sally Ann Forrester, too.

When Stringbean decided to leave the band and go off with Lew Childre, Bill needed a banjo player and it’s now a pretty well known story that Jim knew a banjo player – he knew Earl Scruggs – and really pushed, begged him really, to audition for Bill. Earl was pretty reluctant to do it, but he did, and the rest is history. Later on, when Flatt & Scruggs broke off [from the Blue Grass Boys], Jim was their first fiddler, as you know. He recorded on their Mercury sessions. But he didn’t like touring, he wasn’t a touring kinda guy at all. He had four kids at home – three at the time, when he was younger, and one later. 

Natalya Zoe Weinstein: He liked Mama’s cookin’. 

[both laugh]

Jim Shumate, L (John Cloyd Miller’s grandfather); David Weinstein, R (Natalya Zoe Weinstein’s grandfather)

JCM: He did! He liked his own bed and grandma’s cooking, for sure. He liked to go up on the mountain. He worked in the furniture industry pretty much his whole life, but he also had his hand in the music. He ran a place called “Cat Square,” kind of a small town sort of Hickory Opry, a music show. He was always playing. I have photos of him through the late ‘40s and through the ‘50s with all sorts of people, Don Reno – all those guys. He made records and he had his own band called Sons of the Carolinas, which had George Shuffler in it and some other guys. He was always playing. He played with Dwight Barker and the Melody Boys; he did some sides with Don Walker, who he played with before he met Bill Monroe. He was always making music. 

After Flatt & Scruggs it was largely regionally, because he wasn’t out touring, but he said people would always come by. Any time guys like Lester and them were in town they would always drive the bus and park it right in the yard. He was always in the music, but his influence was not felt as widely later on, I think because he wasn’t out [touring]. He did come back to recording in the ‘90s and made five cassettes for Heritage Records and those got disseminated kind of regionally. Michael Cleveland cut one of the songs that was on one of those tapes a year or so ago. People know his music, but we enjoy getting his legacy out there a bit more. He’s got such a unique style and certainly was influential. 

He was a great songwriter, too! He was my main musical influence. I heard him play a ton growing up. He was so bluesy and slidey, he was a real master of syncopation, which is something that got ingrained in me. People always forget about his songwriting, but the way I grew up, I always thought that being a musician meant that you sing stuff, you write songs. You pick, too, but you do all of it. It was just part of being musical and I think that came from him as well. 

It makes me think of, well, I talk a lot about how the most “bluegrass” someone can be is being innovative and being themselves, whether that comes across as “traditional bluegrass,” genre-wise or not. 

JCM: That’s really insightful and it’s so true, when you look at those early players – everybody always looks at the first generation and, that’s good, that can be very grounding, but those guys were all unique! They were all unique artists, they had their own styles – sure, they were listening to one another, but Lester Flatt doesn’t sound like Bill Monroe who doesn’t sound like Carter Stanley. They don’t sound like each other!

Natalya, I wanted to ask you about your grandfather, too. If you could tell us a bit about the musical influences that represent him on this record, as well. 

NZW: He passed away when I was fairly young, my dad had me when he was fifty-one, so my grandfather was quite older than me – I think I was eleven when he passed away. [My father and he] had an interesting relationship; he wasn’t always a well-liked man. He escaped a lot of violence and poverty in Russia, so he wasn’t a very kind man and my dad didn’t have a very close relationship with him. I don’t have any audio recordings of his music, I have a couple of audio interviews that my dad and uncle did with him, but I don’t have any recordings of his music. 

My dad was moving a few years back and found all these old music notebooks from my grandfather. He asked me, “Do you want these old, handwritten, junky notebooks?” And I was like, “Yes!! Please give those to me!” [Laughs] That was the source, for me, for my grandfather’s music. I didn’t have one-on-one experiences with him, I didn’t have recordings of him, so these notebooks are really the only link to his music that I have. We have about five or six notebooks that have songs in them – they’re pretty hard to decipher, they’re forty or fifty years old. They have all different kinds of material in them, from klezmer to mambos and tangos even to “Tennessee Waltz,” which shows up in one of them as a jazz standard. He also played some classical music, he didn’t do just one singular thing. Klezmer players were like the wedding band musician of their time, where they had to play a bunch of different styles based on who their audience was. 

JCM: We definitely got a little bit of a sense of who he was from these audio interviews that her uncle and dad had made with him. We got to hear his voice, you know he didn’t speak English very well so it’s mostly in Russian and Yiddish. You get a sense of some of the stuff he saw, in these interviews. You can tell it hardened him. 

NZW: He had a tough life for sure, he struggled a lot and music was really the only thing [he did]. He wasn’t really educated. He talked about how when he came here [to the U.S.] he tried to be a plumber and he tried to be an electrician, but he kept making mistakes. He said, “I couldn’t do anything except play music.” He felt almost like he was stuck with it. He loved it and he was passionate about it, but I got the sense that it was his only option. 

There’s a similar energy from both grandfathers around being musicians, but not just in a traditional touring, “road dog,” sort of lifestyle. 

NZW: You’re right, and they were both kind of skeptical of the past. 

JCM: They both came from very humble beginnings. My grandfather didn’t have any education, either. Natalya’s grandfather, apparently, escaped the Bolshevik revolution on a hay wagon. He was a teenager and they were trying to conscript him into the army to fight – it’s crazy stuff! 

Bluegrass is always considering lineage and tradition and how those things are passed along. One of the things that I think is really interesting about it is there aren’t a lot of marginalized identities represented in the historical record of bluegrass, but there are Jewish identities represented. There’s not a whole lot of representation as you go back through the years, but it’s there. How do you connect the music you’re making, that’s infused with Jewish influences and has that cultural identity, to past Jewish music makers in bluegrass and string bands? You’re clearly thinking about lineage and family with this record, and that’s so bluegrass, but through a different lens with your Jewish identity and the other cultural music styles on the album, too. 

NZW: David Grisman was one of my biggest musical influences early on, he was a big bridge, for me, between my dad – who plays jazz – and the bluegrass connection as well as the Jewish connection. We talk about how this album was inspired by Songs of Our Fathers, the 1995 album by David Grisman and Andy Statman. Andy Statman, who played on the record, is another one – one of the first shows that John and I went to see when we met in Asheville in 2005 or 2006 was to see Andy Statman at the Black Mountain Center for the Arts, which is this tiny little listening room. It was an incredible show, I remember just being blown away. I remember thinking, “Wow! What a cool fusion.”

JCM: That was the first time we heard that fusion with klezmer music. He was also playing clarinet, he was playing mandolin. He is the bridge between these kinds of music. David doesn’t do as much klezmer, but those two guys together for sure. 

NZW: John and I both came into bluegrass through the Grisman/Garcia connection then I kind of worked my way back from there. Someone gave me a burned CD of Bill Monroe and I was like, “Oh my God, what is this!?” [Laughs]

JCM: So many people have stories like that. That Old & In The Way album was such an influential record, it was like the number one selling bluegrass record for a long time. 

NZW: Yeah, the way I got into bluegrass, I was out in Tacoma, Washington, for an anthropology conference in college and somebody at my hotel was like, “I’ve got an extra ticket for Wintergrass, which is happening right next door.” I said, “Okay, cool!” So we go and I saw Old & In The Gray there [Peter Rowan, Vassar Clements, Grisman], it was an incredible experience. I didn’t really know what I was seeing at the time, because I was so new to bluegrass, but that was my “Ah ha!” moment. Someone handed me a fiddle and I dunno, I played “Angeline the Baker” and that was it! [Laughs]

JCM: When I first heard Grisman play mandolin, his tone and everything, that was like sinking a hook into me. That’s why I even wanted to play mandolin. I wanted to work on getting tone like that! He was a huge influence on so many of us.

Going back home one time, when I had been living out West or whatever, I was listening to Old & In the Way or something and I asked, “Grandpa, do you know this stuff, like ‘Pig in a Pen,’ and all this?” And he was like, “Oh yeah! I know everything on this record!” And he would play them, and that was so cool to me. I hadn’t quite made the connection before. He asked me, “Who’s playing fiddle on that record?” And I said, “Vassar Clements!” He says, “Oh yeah, that’s a good friend of mine!” I was like, “WHAT!?” 

[both laugh]

JCM: I was just this stupid, deadhead college kid – I mean, I’m still a deadhead – but it really clicked. This is a bridge between grandpa’s world, which had always seemed like something in the past, to my world as a young, coming-of-age musician, realizing, “Oh, it’s all the same stuff!” 

To an uninitiated listener, they might hear your record and they might hear the influences that aren’t “traditional bluegrass” as modern cross-pollinations, as something that’s coming from you both and your generation and your own creativity. But, I really wanted to unpack the lineage of the music, because I can sense even in the playing on this album that colors “outside the lines,” it’s clearly part of this bigger tradition in bluegrass of being a bridge between these kinds of disparate parts. Even this “nontraditional” album you’ve made is based on so much tradition – familial tradition, cultural tradition, musical tradition. 

NZW: I think we wanted to honor those traditions and where these songs came from, but we also wanted to put our own spin on it. We hope our grandfathers would have liked that! 

JCM: [Jim Shumate] was very much a traditional musician, but he was always innovative at the same time. Some of the things he did in the ‘50s were very jazzy, with electric guitars playing with him. And he always loved Natalya’s playing. You know, Natalya came from a classical background and anytime she would play something classical for him– 

NZW: Or a waltz. 

JCM: He just loved to hear her play. They didn’t sound like each other, they had very different styles, but he was always very open and he loved everything. 

NZW: I think he would like [the album]. John’s mom texted us yesterday as she was listening to it and said, “I think grandpa would’ve enjoyed that!” So hopefully our grandparents aren’t rolling over in their graves. 

[Both laugh]

Photo Credit: Sarah Johnston

Telluride, the Most Beautiful Bluegrass Festival, Turns 50

Posted on by Justin Hiltner

(Editor’s Notes: Headline image of Béla Fleck & the Flecktones. Scroll to see a photo gallery.

To mark Planet Bluegrass’s 50th annual Telluride Bluegrass Festival, we asked author and music journalist David Menconi to reflect on its impact – and the vibrant community that’s grown up around this iconic roots music event.)

The circuit of roots music festivals in America has some similarities to the Professional Golf Association. There’s at least one festival as well as one golf tournament pretty much every week of the spring, summer and fall. But a few stand out as special and even career-making – golf’s four major championships, and the handful of prestigious main-event music festivals. North Carolina’s MerleFest is like The Masters, the early-season springtime kickoff each April, while late-season festivals like San Francisco’s Hardly Strictly Bluegrass line up nicely with the British Open.

But there’s no question which music festival stands as the summit of the circuit, and not just because it’s in the mountains of Colorado. That’s the Telluride Bluegrass Festival, which marked its 50-year anniversary with the 2023 edition last weekend, June 15-18. The fact that Telluride has prospered for half a century makes Telluride something like golf’s U.S. Open championship, the big one that everybody wants to be a part of. Telluride’s status is something that the musicians who play it are well aware of.

Del McCoury Band performs Thursday, June 15, at the 50th Annual Telluride Bluegrass Festival.

“Festivals and musical trends come and go, and acoustic music has been through some serious peaks and valleys the last 50 years,” says Chris “Panda” Pandolfi, banjo player for Telluride regulars The Infamous Stringdusters, who were on this year’s lineup. “The one mainstay throughout has been Telluride Bluegrass Festival. When we started out, Telluride was the place to be and the definitive crossroads we aspired to, and it still is. Lasting 50 years is an amazing testament to its importance. Bluegrass is more popular than ever now, and Telluride is a big part of that.”

There are literally hundreds of music festivals spanning every style imaginable nowadays, including massive annual gatherings like Bonnaroo in Tennessee and Coachella in the California desert. But there were just a small handful of festivals when Telluride Bluegrass Festival started up in 1973 in the scenic Colorado mountain town that bears its name. And even though Telluride’s daily capacity of 10,000 fans is significantly smaller than a lot of the other major festivals on the circuit, it has still maintained its prestige status.

A drone shot of the festival grounds of Telluride Bluegrass Festival.

In spite of that smaller size, Telluride does have a few structural advantages that set it apart. One is a picturesque setting of surpassing natural beauty on the western edge of Southwestern Colorado’s San Juan Mountains. For performers as well as attendees, there’s not a better view anywhere than what you see at Telluride.

“The view from the crowd is amazing, but from the stage it’s the most incredible view imaginable as an artist,” says Pandolfi. “It’s this multi-layered inspirational snapshot of some of the best music fans, at the best-run festival, in the most beautiful environment in the world. I think a lot of people have this experience, knowing of Telluride as this iconic festival with an outsized reputation, but it more than lives up to the hype. First time we played there, I remember feeling intimidated because so many heavy-weight players we looked up to were there. But as soon as we got onstage, everything clicked.”

Yasmin Williams performs on Telluride Bluegrass Festival’s main stage – its sole stage.

Another major difference between Telluride and its festival peers is scale, and not just in terms of the size of the crowds. Most festivals cram as many performers onto as many stages as possible, all of them running simultaneously, resulting in sensory overload as well as the fear that you’re missing out on something elsewhere. By contrast, Telluride still has just one stage. Every act gets a solo spotlight at Telluride.

“Every year’s festival lineup is an interesting thing,” says Craig Ferguson, who oversees Telluride Bluegrass Festival under the auspices of Planet Bluegrass. “I’ve always said, just watch and it will book itself, and that’s really true. Our process is unique because we have just the one stage and not a bunch of bands, so everybody in the crowd gets to have the same experience. There’s not 18 different stages, so we can create one festivarian experience that everyone shares. We do the booking one act at a time, and we often wind up with interesting combinations.”

Robert Plant & Alison Krauss perform at Telluride Bluegrass Festival.

Indeed, those interesting combinations can venture well beyond what you see at a typical folk or bluegrass festival. Along with Sam Bush, Emmylou Harris, Peter Rowan, Del McCoury and The Infamous Stringdusters doing a Sunday morning gospel set, this year’s lineup features ringers like the West African ngoni master Bassekou Koyate and the venerable jam band String Cheese Incident. Some of the anomalous acts from previous years include pop-star jazz pianist Norah Jones, the comedic folk duo Tenacious D and even singer/rapper/actress Janelle Monae. Even with the unlikely acts, the Telluride experience sells itself. It doesn’t take much convincing to get any artist to play.

“Janelle Monae was the most interesting person to talk to,” Ferguson says. “I snuck into her RV just as she was sitting down to a meal by herself, and I was able to sit and talk to her for an hour. I think she would’ve signed up to play every year if she could have, she was so enthralled by the fact that there were elk in the park. It was the most wonderful conversation, and she was great. We’re famous for our curveballs and she was the oddest, I’ll give you that.”

BGS’s own Ed Helms with Sam Bush and Jerry Douglas at Telluride Bluegrass Festival.

Apart from the change-ups, multiple generations of musicians in the world of acoustic music count Telluride among their major artistic, career and personal milestones. One of them is Sarah Jarosz, a four-time Grammy winner who first went to Telluride as a fan at age 14 and played it herself for the first time two years later. Telluride is where Jarosz first connected with idols and future peers like Gillian Welch and Abigail Washburn. It’s also where Gary Paczosa saw Jarosz for the first time at her 2007 Telluride debut. He subsequently signed her to Sugar Hill Records and produced her first four albums.

“It’s the quintessential place to see your heroes, and even get to jam with them,” says Jarosz, who is back on this year’s lineup. “You’ll hear, ‘There’s a jam at this house down the street after the shows.’ So I brought my mandolin and before I knew it, Chris Thile was showing up. Also Jerry Douglas, Tim O’Brien. That was really life-changing, this proximity to heroes that allowed me to become friends with them. And even though Telluride is rooted in bluegrass, they always bring in artists from beyond that world – Janelle Monae, Decemberists, Alison Krauss and Robert Plant. It feels like anything can happen, and the audience that goes is very supportive of that.”

The stalwart House Band of Telluride Bluegrass Festival.

Still, no matter how far afield the lineup wanders, Telluride is ultimately rooted in bluegrass.

“Bluegrass is a fable, and a team sport,” says Ferguson. “That informs how we create the lineup. Looking to the future, socially as well as musically, we think of bluegrass as an allegory. It’s a context that is invitational to all these other styles, country or jazz or classical, and it complements all of them. That remains the heart and soul of this festival, surrounding bluegrass with these other complimentary musics. We are fortunate to be of service to the festivarian community. It’s an annual privilege to see how much it brings to people’s lives, the connection to community.”

All photos by Maya Benko, courtesy of IVPR

LISTEN: Dale Ann Bradley, “Kentucky Gold” (feat. Sam Bush)

Posted on by Justin Hiltner

Artist: Dale Ann Bradley
Hometown: Middlesboro, Kentucky
Song: “Kentucky Gold” (featuring Sam Bush)
Album: Kentucky For Me
Release Date: June 23, 2023
Label: Pinecastle Records

In Their Words: “‘Kentucky Gold’ is a great story about determination, faith, and a desire to be in the race despite all the doubts and opinions of others. It’s about just taking your place and giving it all you’ve got, while at the same time, keeping in mind not to let the odds be a factor in your right to be at the race. We’re really happy with how this song came out and it was an honor to have Sam Bush on it. We’re excited for everyone to hear the full album when it drops. The title is Kentucky For Me and it’s a tribute to my home state. We also have a great lineup of guest artists who joined us.” – Dale Ann Bradley

Photo Credit: Pinecastle Records

Marty Stuart: From Bluegrass to Psychedelia and Back

Posted on by Justin Hiltner

Told that a song on his new album brings to mind The Doors, Marty Stuart is bemused, but open to the idea.

“Did it?” he responds during an interview. “That’s fine. If so, why not?”

“Nightriding,” from new album Altitude by Stuart and His Fabulous Superlatives, kicks off with droning guitars, then evolves to a riff somewhat like that of Jim Morrison’s “Roadhouse Blues”   

“Cadillac, sundown,” Stuart intones. “Think I’ll investigate this town.”

To be clear, most of the cuts on the Altitude are more evocative of The Byrds than The Doors. So, is Marty Stuart really a country music traditionalist, as many people perceive him? Yes. And also no.

“I’m totally fine with it,” Stuart says when asked if the country music purist reputation is OK with him. “It’s a self-appointed mission. But my comment would be that country music has broad shoulders.”

Dante Bonutto, who heads up Snakefarm Records, which is releasing Altitude, says that Stuart has earned the right to experiment. 

“Since he’s definitely someone who pretty much invented the wheel, he’s allowed to put different spokes on it when he wants to, I think,” Bonutto said. 

Stuart, who’s been a bluegrass prodigy, a mainstream country music star, and remains a prodigious collector of country music artifacts, was born in 1958, making him a child of the 1960s, with all that comes with it. 

“I still think of when The Byrds and Bob Dylan and all those guys came to Nashville to make their records in the late ‘60s,” he says. “That is like contemporary stuff to me. …That was the stuff that touched me when I was growing up, so it was just a part of country music to me.”

At a recent benefit concert for Northwest Mississippi Community College, Stuart’s base was definitely country — he and the group appropriated the whole history of the genre as their back catalogue, doing songs by Merle Haggard (“Brain Cloudy Blues”), Marty Robbins (“El Paso”), Waylon Jennings (“Just to Satisfy You”) and Stuart’s own hits from the early 1990s such as “The Whiskey Ain’t Workin.’” 

The casually virtuosic Fabulous Superlatives band (Kenny Vaughan on guitar, Chris Scruggs on bass and Harry Stinson on drums; all of them sing) wore matching glitter-flecked black suits, and Stuart’s performing style still owes a debt to his former boss and mentor Johnny Cash.

But that wasn’t all. During the hour-long set before a well-heeled audience dressed in tuxedoes and evening gowns, there was also a Woody Guthrie indictment of the rich, a mandatory gospel number, and a big helping of surf rock, obviously a favorite of Vaughan in particular.

“We hereby declare Senatobia, Mississippi, as the surf capital of the world,” Stuart announced before Vaughan launched into a Telecaster version of “House of the Rising Sun.” Also, “Wipeout” was played by Scruggs solo on the upright bass, with Stinson slapping out the drum solo on the cheeks of his face. 

“Well, it doesn’t really matter how people categorize us,” Stinson said. “If anybody’s interested in what you’re doing, then they listen a little bit deeper and find a much wider spectrum, in terms of the music. I think Marty is much more than just a traditional country artist. He came from that world and uses that as a place to plant himself, and then branches out in different directions.”

Possibly because the Altitude album hadn’t been released yet during the March 25 concert in Mississippi, that audience didn’t get a taste of its cosmic, sometimes psychedelic country music.

The album’s beginnings go back to 2018, when Stuart, Vaughan, Stinson, and Scruggs toured with Roger McGuinn and Chris Hillman to celebrate the 50th anniversary of the pioneering country rock album Sweetheart of the Rodeo by The Byrds. McGuinn and Hillman were original members, along with the late Gene Clark, David Crosby, and Michael Clarke. 

“That was Roger McGuinn’s idea,” Hillman recalled. “Roger had done some dates with Marty; he knew him really well. …He knew the Superlatives would be right on the money because he had done a couple of Byrds songs with them onstage.”

Hillman rates the Superlatives as “the best band probably in this country right now, if not the Western Hemisphere.”

“We had so much fun doing the Sweetheart of the Rodeo Tour,” said Hillman, who was also a member of the Flying Burrito Brothers and Desert Rose Band. “The arrangements were the same as we did on the album in 1968,” he said. “We played the songs better, but we didn’t change anything. It was a joy to go back out and do those songs, especially with the Superlatives.”

Stinson says the tour with The Byrds was “a joyous experience.”

“I got to play with some of my heroes,” he said. “I grew up on those records and so to get to play that music, especially the Sweetheart record, which was kind of groundbreaking. I got to go back through it and really dissect it, and then put it on stage. It was surreal for me.”

The Sweetheart of the Rodeo Tour, coming around the same time Stuart and the Superlatives were opening for Chris Stapleton and the Steve Miller Band, had a profound effect on Stuart’s songwriting. 

“It got me in the mood to write songs with all the sounds that were left hanging around in my head,” Stuart said. “We were hot on those ideas, and I just carried the inspiration in with me.”

Like a lot of albums released in the past year, Altitude was recorded while COVID-19 was at its height. 

“We rehearsed,” Stuart said. “Most of the producing of this record was done in dressing rooms and at soundcheck and trying songs out there in shows before we ever went to the studio.” The original plan to record was ruined by the coronavirus. 

“We were hot, we were ready to go to Capitol Studios in Hollywood (California), and make a record,” Stuart said.  “Well the pandemic crashed and Capitol Studios shut down, so we found East Iris Studios (in Nashville). We put on our masks and stood 6 feet apart and soldiered on.”

“I’m glad everybody agreed to do that, because I think this record would not have sounded like it does if we would have had to wait several months and relearn it.”

The album’s Byrd-like sound, complete with the jangling guitars that are McGuinn’s trademark, has Hillman’s endorsement.

“What they’ve done is not a tribute to The Byrds,” Hillman said. “It just has a few little nice, ever-so-tasty hints of what we did.”

Hillman thinks the driving “Country Star,” which also owes a debt to Chuck Berry, has the feel of Byrd’s songs such as “So You Want to be a Rock ‘n’ Roll Star.”

“There’s a lot of influence there — not overtly, but it just is there. Marty doesn’t stray far from the well, meaning the bluegrass well. I never did either.”

Stuart’s ability on mandolin shouldn’t be overlooked, Hillman said. “Marty is an unbelievably gifted musician,” he said. “I love Ricky Skaggs’ playing and Ronnie McCoury,” he added. “But I told Marty when we were on the road, ‘You got that machine gun hand.’ He says, ‘Yeah, that’s Everett Lilly.’”

Lilly (1924-2012), played mandolin and sang tenor with the Lilly Brothers and Don Stover. He also spent a couple years with Flatt and Scruggs.

“(Lilly) had that cool right hand and when he took a break on ‘Earl’s Breakdown,’ when he played with Flatt and Scruggs, it was great,” Hillman said.  Factor in Vaughan on guitar in the Superlatives, and “you can’t get any better,” Hillman says. “But it’s two different approaches to music.

“Marty really grasped ahold of the pulled string stylings of Clarence White (who played with The Byrds and Kentucky Colonels before his 1973 death)”, and then Kenny “is so good, all over the place.” 

“He doesn’t overblow; he plays just what is needed,” Hillman said of Vaughan.

While Stuart released his last album, Way Out West, on his own Superlatone Records, he’s partnered with Snakefarm, a subsidiary of Universal Music Group, for Altitude.

Bonutto, a journalist and record company executive, heads up the roots-rock focused Snakefarm and its sister label Spinefarm Records, which specializes in heavy metal. In addition to Stuart, Snakefarm has acclaimed Southern rocker Marcus King on its roster. 

“(Stuart is) obviously an artist I’ve always been aware of, because I love country music and I’m aware of its legacy,” Bonutto said. “The first time I saw him was when he played the Country to Country (music festival) in London, which is a big annual country music event. I thought his personality was fantastic and his playing is obviously unbelievably good.”

Bonutto wrangled a quick meeting with Stuart at the festival, but had to wait a while before Stuart and his management were ready to sign a new record contract.

“I’m trying to build the Snakefarm label into a global entity [in Americana music],” he said. “The best way you can build anything is to attach yourself to people who are legendary and iconic. Hopefully you do an amazing job for them and they speak well of you and they become part of the fabric of what you do.”

Bonutto noted that Stuart, who is also a photographer and working on a facility to display his country music artifacts, is not “a one-dimensional character.”

“He’s a man with a fantastic vision,” Bonutto said. “I think that comes across in the other things.”

Stuart is a leading collector of country music memorabilia, and he’s working on a $30 million museum to display it in his hometown of Philadelphia, Mississippi. A 500-seat theater is already open, and 50,000-square-feet of exhibit space for 20,000 artifacts will be the second phase. An education center is planned after that. 

“I was a fan, going back to those country or gospel groups or bluegrass groups who come through my hometown when I was a kid,” Stuart said. “I’d always buy a record and ask for an autograph or ask one of the pickers if I could grab a pick.”

In the 1980s, he observed that “old timers, the pioneers, the people who had raised me, were being disregarded.”

“Their treasures, their personal effects, their guitars and costumes, were winding up in junk stores around Nashville,” he said. “I found Patsy Cline’s makeup kit for 75 bucks in a junk store on Eighth Avenue in Nashville. I couldn’t believe it.”

Stuart met Isaac Tigrett of Hard Rock Café in London, and he showed Stuart how that restaurant chain was investing in and exhibiting rock music memorabilia.

“Even though it was a hamburger joint, I understood the importance of them collecting and curating stuff from The Beatles and the Stones and The Who. … Beyond the Country Music Hall of Fame, I didn’t see anybody doing it, so it just became a self-appointed mission to start rescuing a lot of those things that were winding up in junk stores.”

Stuart’s collection includes treasures such as the handwritten lyrics of “I Saw the Light” and “Cold, Cold Heart” by Hank Williams Sr., the boots Patsy Cline was wearing during her 1963 fatal plane crash and Cash’s first all-black performance outfit.

Speaking of country music history, Stuart began his career in bluegrass backing up Lester Flatt before joining Cash’s band. He’d like to return to those roots and record a bluegrass album.

“I need to, I need to,” he said. “But it needs to be authentic. It needs to be the real deal, blood-curdling bluegrass.”

Photo Credit: Alysse Gafkjen 

WATCH: Cup O’Joe, “Weathered & Worn”

Posted on by Justin Hiltner

Artist: Cup O’Joe
Hometown: County Armagh, Northern Ireland
Song: “Weathered & Worn”
Album: Why Live Without
Release Date: June 16, 2023

In Their Words: “All of us in the band take much inspiration from the areas we have grown up in, especially us three siblings who had spent most of our life in County Armagh, which is labelled the Orchard County of Ireland. So, there really had to be a song on this new album featuring our awe and love of trees.

“This song was written from the viewpoint of someone who is asking how this huge tree outside his window continues to stand firm and grow strong amidst the storms and the many years it has seen come and go. They are glad that its branches have sheltered their grandkids, and likely their great grandkids, but there is still a restlessness, an uneasiness, that someday, they, and it will stand no more. ‘But when I’m gone, we’ll still cry out together shouting, just waiting for the day of truth.’ The quietness and questions go hand in hand, to point us to the greater picture — that we can live in the hope that all things will be made new.” – Tabitha Benedict

Photo Credit: Katie Loughrin Photography 

See Photos from Lexington, KY’s Railbird Music Festival Featuring Tyler Childers and More

Posted on by Justin Hiltner

Highlighting the confluence of roots music and the mainstream, Railbird Festival welcomed 32 acts from across the rock, folk, and bluegrass spectrum to Lexington, Kentucky on June 3-4.

Boasting headliners Tyler Childers and Zach Bryan, plus Charley Crockett, Whiskey Myers, Nickel Creek and more, a sold-out crowd of 40,000-plus helped kick off festival season with a uniquely “Americana” lineup – drawing attention to this hidden gem of a city.

Set in the heart of Lexington and spread across three massive stages and a spacious lawn at The Infield at Red Mile (usually a horse racing venue and casino), 2023 marked the third year of a festival turning the “horse capital of the world” into roots-music central while celebrating the rich musical history of the area.

Jenny Lewis (R) with Lucius by Nathan Zucker

Day one kicked off with perfect festival weather– meaning it was blazing hot and dry as a bone. That was no worry, however, since Railbird also featured three huge shaded areas, plenty of refreshments (it is bourbon country, after all) and a merciful breeze. From just about anywhere on the grounds, fans could see everything all at once – and that included 2023’s festival-season fashions.

Charley Crockett (L) by Charles Reagan

Indie pop chanteuse Jenny Lewis was an early draw, singing smart tunes about “psycho men” and hypoallergenic puppies – and also welcoming Lucius, the Grammy-nominated duo who became something like the fest’s house band, for a rich duet.

Sheryl Crow by Nathan Zucker

Later on, Charley Crockett herded everyone to the Elkhorn stage for some ballads from a modern day drifting cowboy. And Sheryl Crow showed she could still hang with the kids, even calling for more of them in politics. “I don’t have a lot of hope for people older than me,” the feisty icon said. “But you can bring change.”

Valerie June by Cora Wagoner

Whiskey Myers brought their own gasoline (and a match), firing up a midday crowd with their rowdy roadhouse rock, and while Valerie June won her crowd over with a big smile and songs connected to the Black-folk past, emerging phenom Morgan Wade unleashed the pent up anger of country girls everywhere, sounding like a combination of Courtney Love and Loretta Lynn.

Morgan Wade by Taylor Regulski

Nineties alt-heroes Weezer united the crowd in a full set of fuzzed out awkward-teenager anthems – but also showed where they fit in the roots world, breaking out some old-timey three part harmony – and the day came to a close with breakout superstar Zach Bryan.

Zach Bryan by Charles Reagan

A self-made headliner who still carries the underground spirit, he gathered the whole crowd as the sun went down, doing his best to stay a songwriter who “keeps truth in songs.” Leading a country band with strong Class of ‘89 vibes, he mixed tender-but-edgy confessions with a well-placed vocal growl, and finished the night off in awe of the Railbird crowd, noting he was on the fest’s smallest stage just a few years earlier.

“I’m nervous as shit!” Bryan admitted. “Never in my life did I think I’d be after Weezer or Marcus Mumford.”

Marcus Mumford by Charles Reagan

Day two started off much the same as the first: hot and sunny, but with a marked increase of tow trucks prowling the Red Mile area. Great herds of humanity seem to migrate from one stage to the next, with wide smiles and a rootsier, more-acoustic lineup for them to enjoy. Luckily, the pacing was excellent and there was rarely any conflict over which stage to check out.

Sierra Ferrell by Cora Wagoner

Winchester 49 took over the big stage early, dodging beach balls and blasting their gritty country/rock/soul as they welcomed the crowd back with calls to drink up life (and beer.) Old-school master Sierra Ferrell had everyone dancing a throwback jig, and while Flipturn mixed fiery rock grooves with huge, danceable swells of energy (like EDM on electric guitars), Ricky Skaggs charmed as the fest’s elder statesman, and Kentucky treasure.

Making bluegrass look beyond easy (maybe more like effortless), a “RICKY!” chant soon broke out as parents answered questions from dumbstruck kids, like “Is it just him playing right now?” – once again proving the timeless, ageless wonder of acoustic music.

Nickel Creek by Charles Reagan

Nickel Creek seasoned their simple ingredients with a playful edge, returning for their first tour as a blood-bonded neo-bluegrass trio in quite a few years, while Amos Lee sampled everything from Memphis soul to Bob Marley and a bit of New Orleans funk.

Amos Lee by Taylor Regulski

Town Mountain found a welcome home for its foot-stomping, wild-child alternative-grass over at the covered Burl stage – as did Molly Tuttle (who will surely be on a bigger stage next year) and Charles Wesley Godwin, the West Virginia troubadour who welcomed night-one’s headliner back for a re-energizing duet, late in the festival and just before its biggest draw.

Molly Tuttle by Cora Wagoner

That moment finally came as the deep-red Strawberry Moon rose over Red Mile, with Tyler Childers putting a bold, indie-country cap on an already special event.

Tyler Childers by Charles Reagan

Welcomed to the stage by Lexington Mayor Linda Gorton – who proclaimed June 4, 2023 as Tyler Childers Day – the Lawrence County native arrived carrying the whole state’s roots-music tradition on his small frame, and never put a foot wrong.

Humble as ever and wielding the witty cadence of a carnival barker, he presided over a rabid hometown crowd in a jean jacket and rusty-blond hair, matching a voice that could cut Kentucky limestone with hardscrabble poetry just as sharp.

Tyler Childers by Charles Reagan

Over a two hour set, all of Lexington seemed to sway and sing along, closing the weekend with proudly down-home tracks like “All Your’n.” On the surface, it’s a holler-kid’s rebellious pledge of true love, that’s obvious enough. But in this case, that pledge seemed applicable in other ways – to the fans, to roots music, to Lexington. Perhaps even to the Railbird Music Festival itself.

“I’ll love ya ’til my lungs give out / I ain’t lying,” Childers and his audience sang. “I’m all your’n and you’re all mine.”

Tyler Childers and band by Cora Wagoner

Photos courtesy of Railbird Festival
Lead photo credit: Taylor Regulski

WATCH: Jacob Sharp, “Other Side”

Posted on by Justin Hiltner

Artist: Jacob Sharp
Hometown: Los Angeles, California
Song: “Other Side” (feat. Aoife O’Donovan)
Release Date: May 26, 2023

In Their Words: “I wrote this song in early 2020 when I was finally still enough to wrap my head around some of my emotions buried deepest. This one’s about a friend losing a battle with addiction, what I wish I had said more, and what I’ve been trying to say to all my people since. For me, music is for making and sharing with people. It’s why I love bands and being in Mipso. I talked myself out of releasing my own music so many times over the past few years, but when I realized it made for a good opportunity to collaborate with dear friends for the first time, it started to feel alright. I got the band of my dreams together and we recorded this one, mostly in separate locations in 2021.

“There is an amazing winemaker, Jude Zasadski, who is my neighbor in Mt. Washington – it’s a little oasis in the heart of Los Angeles – and he is someone who constantly inspires me. I love that dude so much. When I got the final mix for this tune, he was one of the first people I shared it with and he had an immediate vision for how we could show some of the fuzzier sides of memory whilst memorializing the preciousness of time and those moments when you feel your feelings again. We strolled around the neighborhood, got burgers and milkshakes, and then set up a projector in our friend’s garage. And one of my favorite filmmakers, Brady Lawrence, has been a friend for over a decade. His art always gets to emotional depth quickly and he was the perfect person to edit this video.” – Jacob Sharp

Photo Credit: Cate Parker
Video Credit: Jude Zasadski (director and videographer) and Brady Lawrence (editor)