Tag: blues

The Wood Brothers Appreciate Their “Slow Rise to the Middle”

Posted on by Justin Hiltner

Raised by a creative writing teacher and a music-playing biology professor who occasionally picked with Joan Baez, Oliver and Chris Wood were both destined for careers making music. Following time apart in the ‘90s – Oliver in Atlanta playing with King Johnson and Chris in New England staying busy with Medeski Martin & Wood – the Wood Brothers came together in the early 2000s during a co-bill between their bands in Winston-Salem, North Carolina.

And they haven’t looked back.

In 2004 the Wood Brothers – their trio rounded out by multi-instrumentalist Jano Rix – officially arrived. Two years later came their debut record, Ways Not To Lose, and with it signature hits like “Luckiest Man” that over two decades later continue to stand the test of time, even as the trio’s sound shapeshifts. That sonic evolution is front and center throughout the band’s latest effort, Puff of Smoke, which features everything from boisterous horns to slippery synths and a bevy of world influences stretching across multiple continents.

Wrapped up in the 11 songs’ American-rooted and globally influenced aesthetic is a feeling of mindfulness that ranges from serious (“The Trick”) to comedic (“Pray God Listens”) and borderline cynical (“Money Song”). A prime example also lies within “Slow Rise (To The Middle),” an autobiographical ballad about the band’s methodical rise to making and maintaining a stable living from their music – as opposed to an overnight rise to stardom that oftentimes fizzles out in the most dramatic fashion.

“The lyrics are pretty abstract, but they’re pretty specifically about all the people who had the meteoric rise and died because of a plane or motorcycle crash or even an assassination – as was the case with John Lennon,” explains Oliver. “We were thinking of very specific people in rock ‘n’ roll who burned out and died young when they were at the top of their game. With that in mind, it’s almost a song of real gratitude that that didn’t happen to us.”

Ahead of the release of Puff of Smoke Chris and Oliver caught up with BGS to discuss the band’s roots, trajectory, experimental nature, mindfulness, and more.

(Writer’s Note: The following includes two separate conversations combined into one and edited for clarity and brevity.)

What was it that brought [Oliver and Chris] back together after over a decade apart to first form the Wood Brothers?

Oliver Wood: Having lived apart so long and played in different musical circles we were somewhat disconnected – both musically and and just as brothers – but we did stay in touch. In Medeski Martin & Wood’s early days they used to come to Atlanta and sleep on my floor before they blew up. I was always interested in the music [Chris] was making and he was interested in music I was making, but we just weren’t close.

At one point, it just happened that we played a show together where my band, King Johnson, opened for them – I believe it was at a place called Ziggy’s in Winston-Salem, North Carolina. We ended up having the best time and then they asked me to sit in with them on guitar on a few songs. [Medeski Martin & Wood] didn’t have a guitar player and I wound up fitting right in with what was going on [that] night. During it we stood next to each other and felt like we could just read each other’s minds, like we had this uncanny psychic (and obviously genetic) connection, musically.

In spite of the differences in the music that we were playing there was a lot of overlap. Both bands were really into traditional American music like blues and funk and jazz. It was like a musical conversation that went really well, so from then on Chris and I made efforts to play and write music together when we visited our family or had gatherings purely out of joy.

We had this thing in common, were all grown up, and had shed some of that brotherly baggage that family bands who’ve been playing together since they were kids sometimes have a harder time shaking, because they don’t never get a chance to form their own identities and feel like they’re their own person. It made it especially exciting to join forces and see what kind of recipe we could come up with everything we’ve learned over the years.

Chris Wood: One thing that’s not obvious looking from the outside in is how much overlap there was with [Medeski Martin & Wood] and what [Oliver] was doing with King Johnson. MMW formed in New York City in the early ‘90s in a very particular music scene where we were always trying new things and mashing together genres and finding new ways to play instruments. We operated with a fringe set of influences that included field recordings from West Africa and all kinds of other weird things that were out there compared to contemporary classical music, but when King Johnson opened for us in the early 2000s and Oliver sat in with us there was an immediate connection. In a way, it almost felt like I was watching myself playing because I could relate so well to his musical choices and approach to playing. He was a natural fit, leading to a moment that sparked the thought about doing something together that has lasted for over 20 years now.

It sounds like the time you guys spent apart has been critical to the bond you have, both as brothers and as bandmates, now over 20 years into the band’s life.

OW: Exactly! And I would say it also contributed to the unique sound that we were able to create because we were bringing some pretty different things to the table. I was really into blues and roots music and Chris went more of the jazz route, but he always said, “Well, what if you mixed Charles Mingus with Robert Johnson or Willie Nelson?” So the idea was to fuse together some things that you haven’t heard yet.

I feel like Puff of Smoke, with its barrage of horns and synth-heavy moments, is a prime example of that fusing together you speak of. What led you to incorporating more of those sounds on this album?

OW: Well, I think that’s always our goal, trying things we haven’t done yet. And a lot of times the metaphor for me is that we’re just trying different recipes. I’m still going to play guitar, Chris is still going to play bass, Jano is still going to play drums and keyboards. There’s going to be singing, there’s going to be familiar sounds, but we think of all these ingredients. There’s Calypso and African music and Chicago blues and gospel and a bunch of other things. These ingredients aren’t uncommon, so what makes artists unique is what they come up with from those sounds.

Oftentimes when we go in to make a record, it’s not conscious like, “Oh, we’re gonna make this kind of record.” We just know that we’re not going to do what we did last time or what somebody else is already doing, if we can help it. We’re trying to find something new that excites us and what that looks like is sometimes having a song written and ready to play, but going into the studio and saying, “I’m going to use this weird guitar that kind of sucks and see what it does.”

There’s an infinite number of combinations and ideas you can apply in the early stages of recording that really influence how different it ends up being. Our philosophy is to create a new recipe each time, which is why it’s so hard to pigeonhole us. That’s not good for business sometimes, but at the same time that’s what we’re going for because we’re trying not to fit in.

CW: We never know what we’re gonna do. What we end up doing is always based on what we’ve done in the past, which is wanting to push boundaries by continuing to evolve and try things we haven’t done before. Over the years we’ve surrendered to the fact that good things happen with the music when we’re not in control and we’re just paying attention to what’s happening and following each other’s lead instead of having a hardened idea of what things should look like. Usually that’s what kills the creative spirit, so relinquishing that control has always been a big theme for us.

We all have a lot of respect for each other and our opinions. Creating artistic things can be a rabbit hole that you get lost in quickly, so being around people you trust can prevent you from doing that in favor of encouraging you when something is really working that you couldn’t even see yourself. When we bring a song we’ve written into the studio, we have absolutely no idea how it’s going to turn out because even though there’s lyrics (and maybe even a key) we make a lot of very spontaneous decisions about what kind of guitar to use or which drum set should there be. Every little decision like that leads to a new spontaneous reaction to how that instrument is sounding. That in turn makes us play a certain way, then by the time the songs are on tape we’re all blown away at how differently it turned out than we would have ever thought.

A big theme throughout these new songs is mindfulness. Can you tell me about how y’all practice that, both in your daily lives and your musical pursuits?

OW: For any artist, whatever’s going on in your life or the world around you makes appearances when you’re writing music – it just seeps in there and gets baked in you. Over the years, all of us in the band have been trying to live a certain way by learning methods and tricks to finding peace and fighting depression and the scary changes going on in the world while continuing to stay connected with people. I’ve always written like a cheerleader for myself, like “The trick is not to give a damn,” but by no means am I a master of any of that stuff. It’s a reminder to myself and others to always keep that on your radar. But on “The Trick” I follow that line with “Good luck,” so there’s a little bit of cynicism there too. Another song, “Pray God Listens,” is meant to be a little humorous and a little cynical of God, but also hopeful. It’s also about wanting to believe that God is listening and that I’m skeptical, but haven’t given up.

CW: [Mindfulness is] a constant recurring theme for us, even going back to [2023’s Heart Is A Hero] and the idea of remembering to remember. I think the hardest thing about presence and mindfulness and being an agent of your own emotions is just remembering it’s even an option. We get so carried away by the constant churning of our minds that you forget it’s even an option to not take that stuff seriously. There’s lots of references in our music about that – this weird storytelling device that we have between our ears that never shuts up and how to live with it – and the idea of control and surrendering to the fact that the only thing we can control is to be present. A lot of our anxiety stems from not knowing what to do, but if you just pay attention to your environment it tells you what to do.

This becomes really useful for us when we’re on stage in front of a bunch of people and the part of your mind that takes credit for and wants to be good doesn’t want a slow rise to the middle but instead wants a meteoric rise to the top and will start fixating on how to be great at something to the detriment of not paying attention to what’s happening around you. For me to play a good bass line I don’t need to listen to myself, I listen to the drums and guitar and those tell me how to play. That’s what presence is for us – it’s allowing our environment to tell us what to do, not trying to figure it out alone.

Another way of describing the themes on this record is impermanence. Things happen and then they’re gone. We have very little control over most aspects of what happens in the universe, so really all you can do is just sort of pay attention, trust that you’re going to know how to react to all that craziness and surrender to the moment.

What about this record stands out to y’all from the rest of your catalog?

OW: For me personally, I feel like there’s more and more freedom to just do whatever the hell I want. We have our own label, so we’re doing things quite independently without the structure of a label or A&R or anything like that and we’ve been doing that for a long time. We’ve always joked that the band’s career trajectory has been a slow rise to the middle as opposed to a meteoric rise to the top. There’s a song by that name on the record that’s a bit tongue-in-cheek as we make fun of ourselves and how it took us years to land at a sweet spot in our careers where we play to around 1,000 people a night – which isn’t a lot compared to Phish or Springsteen – but enough to feel like we can make a living and be a little weird in what we do rather than always taking the conventional route. We can be a little more subtle and aren’t beholden to any one thing, freeing us up to experiment without the worry of needing to write another hit.

As far as this album goes … we really tried to combine our creative visions to see what we could make and we’re all really proud of the result. It was a very organic thing that took over 20 years of experience to make happen.

CW: Between the three of us, we have a lot of influences. When you first begin as a band you’re trying to find out who you are and what your sound is. With both the Wood Brothers and Medeski Martin & Wood we waited to introduce electric bass to the mix even though I play both because the electric bass signifies certain sounds.

For instance, with MMW in the early ‘90s having electric bass with instrumental music that was danceable made you think of jazz fusion, which wasn’t a category we wanted our music to fall into even though it was instrumental music that was sometimes danceable. Once we established our voice as a band we began to branch out, which is the same thing happening with the Wood Brothers.

We have so many influences that don’t fit into the genre boxes that a lot of people put us in in our early days, which was Americana and roots music. We have influences from all over the world, especially on this record. On this record we explored more of the Caribbean, Cuban, and Latin influences we have. Oliver and I are also into these great African guitar players that there’s a lot of overlap with in his fingerpickin’ blues. Throughout we try to find different ways to introduce those influences to the Great American Songbook-like material on this record. Jano is a very good salsa dancer and obsessed with Latin music of all kinds, and I’ve always been into that music as well. One of my favorite bass players is Cachao, who is like the Duke Ellington of Cuba and invented “the mambo.”

There’s things like that that you’re sometimes hesitant to put into the music you’re putting out, but over time as you establish your voice it’s like “why not?” Let’s have fun using those influences even if it’s not “American,” per se. This is the melting pot – we’re supposed to be able to use it all here.

What’s your biggest joy of getting to make music together?

OW: Both Chris and Jano are like titans of music. They’re both virtuoso musicians who are not only monster players, but very creative too. Medeski Martin & Wood was a very experimental band that made great efforts to do what we’ve been talking about, which is to not sound like anything else and really be themselves and allow their musical identities to come through without trying to. Sometimes in instrumental music and in the jazz world, it’s about technique and technical prowess and those guys were just pure artists. They were really trying to make beautiful sounds and odd sounds and dissonance. Sometimes you could dance to it and sometimes you just had to take it in because it was real trippy. And so Chris brings that spirit of virtuosity and creativity, as well as Jano. We first hired him as a drummer because he was such an amazing drummer and percussionist and had no idea he could play keyboards just as well. He’s like two guys at once.

No matter what I throw at them, they can throw something cool back at me, enhance it and make it better. We’ve been talking about the sort of mindfulness theme in some of the music, and it really is a way that we try to operate as a band and as players. It’s about staying connected with yourself and with other people. If we have a musical disconnect it’s because we’re not listening to each other. Music is always a conversation where you listen and you respond or you hear something and you react to it, so if you’re only listening to yourself you’re missing the point. It’s detrimental to the music, so we make sure that we’re listening to each other, and in doing so, we get into this mindful, sort of meditative trance where we’re just listening and having a conversation and not trying to fill all the spaces. It makes us a very cohesive unit and able to be ourselves.

CW: Learning how to be present – as cliché as it sounds – that’s where the joy is. The joy is finally learning that it’s not me, it’s everything else that tells me what to do. Every time we play music it’s amazing, even a song that we play night after night with that approach feels like it might as well be the first time. The hardest part about this idea is remembering to remember, so my way of practicing that is trying to remember throughout the day to ask myself a simple question.

It’s like a challenge – can you enjoy yourself right now? And sometimes it’s easy, because things are fine and you’re not in pain or there’s no drama going on, but it’s the most fruitful moments when there’s something difficult or boring like doing the dishes and I ask if I can enjoy myself? Do I have the ability? What does it even mean to enjoy myself right now? And the practice is that if I can do it enough in those times, then I should be able to remember to remember to do that on stage too. From that point on everything is obvious – I’m able to relax and listen to the drums play me. All the pressure just goes away because you realize you trust yourself to react to the environment, and that never gets old. It’s useful for both your daily life as well as on stage or in the studio or any time we’re creating music together. We’re always trying to make every experience joyful, which isn’t always easy but can be done with practice. It’s like a game, it’s playful – even if you don’t always have a smile on your face.

Photo Credit: Laura E. Partain

The Roots Music of
Ryan Coogler’s Sinners, Explained

Posted on by Justin Hiltner

(Writer’s Note: If you haven’t seen Sinners yet, be warned – there are significant spoilers below.)

 

“There are legends of people born with the gift of making music so true it can pierce the veil between life and death, conjuring spirits from the past and the future…”

 

So begins the film Sinners, the epic Southern gothic horror film from acclaimed director Ryan Coogler (Fruitvale Station, Black Panther). Sinners tells of twins Smoke and Stack Moore (both played by a fantastic Michael B. Jordan), who open a juke joint with the help of their cousin Sammie (Miles Caton) in their small Mississippi hometown in 1932. Driven by a love for blues music and a desire to create a safe gathering place for other Black people, the twins establish Club Juke at a defunct sawmill, unwittingly setting into motion a sinister chain of events.

That opening narration, which points to Sammie and his prodigious musical gifts, accompanies an evocative montage of folk imagery, as the narrator outlines the importance of musical storytellers within tight-knit communities. One such folk figure is the West African griot, a protector of oral tradition who also often served as leaders in their communities. The montage is backed by haunting resonator guitar, a musical motif that will repeat throughout the film.

Coogler tapped the GRAMMY- and Oscar-winning composer Ludwig Göransson to score Sinners, continuing the creative partnership the two began with Coogler’s 2013 film Fruitvale Station (which also stars Michael B. Jordan). Rootsy and atmospheric, the score takes blues influences and ratchets up the tension with strings and percussion to suit the horror themes that unfold midway through the story.

Artists who perform on the Sinners soundtrack include Brittany Howard, Cedric Burnside, Rhiannon Giddens, Alice Smith and Rod Wave. Players on the Sinners score include Buddy Guy, Bobby Rush, Justin Robinson, and Leyla McCalla. Roots musician and actor Lola Kirke appears in the film as Joan, a member of the KKK who becomes a vampire.

Sinners is set in Clarksdale, Mississippi, a Delta city famous for its rich blues music history and for its role in the Great Migration, which, on the whole, found over six million Black Americans leaving the Southeast for large cities in other regions – including Chicago, Detroit, New York City and Cleveland – in order to flee racial segregation, Jim Crow laws and racial violence like lynching.

Dense with musical references, Sinners incorporates blues history into the naming of its characters, too. Stack’s name likely references the classic American folk song “Stagger Lee,” also known as “Stagolee” or “Stack O’ Lee Blues.” That tune tells the story of a real-life man and professional procurer, Lee Shelton, who lived in St. Louis, Missouri, in the late 1800s. Friends called Shelton “Stag” because of his perpetual bachelorhood, and, at times, “Stag” became “Stack.” On Christmas Day, 1895, Stack shot and killed a man named Billy Lyons after Lyons stole Stack’s Stetson cowboy hat, and the rest would soon become musical history.

Michael B. Jordan as Smoke and as Stack, in Warner Bros. Pictures’ ‘Sinners.’

The song’s original writer is unknown, and it has been recorded and performed by a bevy of artists in the intervening decades. One of the most popular recordings is performed by Mississippi John Hurt, a pioneering blues artist. In 1957, Louisiana-born R&B singer Lloyd Price rewrote the song as an upbeat rock number, scoring a number one Billboard pop hit. When Price performed the song on American Bandstand, host Dick Clark had him tone down the “violent” lyrics by giving the song a happy ending.

While Stack’s name is loaded with meaning, the name Smoke is more ambiguous, though as a pair the twins’ names could point to “Smokestack Lightning,” a 1956 song by another Mississippi blues artist, Howlin’ Wolf.

The plot kicks off in earnest when Stack and Smoke return to Clarksdale from Chicago, where they hoped to escape the Jim Crow racism of their home state. Disillusioned by the racism they still encountered once there, the brothers decide to move home to establish Club Juke, recruiting their cousin Sammie to be part of the house band. Sammie is rarely seen without his guitar, a 1932 Dobro Cyclops resonator that Göransson used to record much of the film’s score.

Stack claims that the guitar he and Smoke give to Sammie once belonged to Charley Patton, the Mississippi-born singer and guitarist widely considered to be the “father of the Delta Blues.” (At the movie’s end, Smoke reveals the truth to Sammie: that the guitar actually belonged to his and Stack’s father all along.) Showing Stack his chops, Sammie performs “Travelin’,” a song original to the film.

The emotional and artistic high point of Sinners is a surreal, mid-party musical number that connects the blues to Black music traditions from past and future eras, including hip-hop and rock and roll. The scene begins at Club Juke, with Sammie performing the original song “I Lied to You.” The character Delta Slim soon delivers a short monologue, telling Sammie, “Blues wasn’t forced on us like that religion. Nah, son, we brought this with us from home. It’s magic, what we do. It’s sacred, and big.”

When the opening narration replays after Slim’s speech, things get psychedelic. An electric guitarist dressed in ‘70s rock and roll regalia appears, shredding licks while Club Juke dances around him. A DJ booth appears, with a man in ‘80s hip-hop-inspired clothing behind the boards. B-boys dance among club-goers, and a West African griot appears carrying a drum. Time dissolves as boundaries between musical traditions blur, capturing the essence of 20th-century Black music in one stunning scene.

Trouble starts when a trio of vampiric folk musicians (yes, you read that right) tries to enter Club Juke, hoping to perform. That image of a literal blood-sucking monster in no small part resembles the white colonization of Black music, particularly blues music, adding gravitas to the unexpected plot development. The trio tries to woo their way in with a folksy version of the traditional blues song “Pick Poor Robin Clean,” made popular by Virgninia-born blues artist Luke Jordan in 1927 and the artists Geeshie Wiley and Elvie Thomas – from Louisiana and Texas, respectively – in 1931.

(L to R) Peter Dreimanis as Bert, Jack O’Connell as Remmick, Hailee Steinfeld as Mary, and Lola Kirke as Joan in Warner Bros. Pictures’ ‘Sinners.’

After being denied entry to Club Juke, the trio retreats, performing a hypnotic rendition of the Scottish/Irish folk song “Wild Mountain Thyme” outside the club grounds. The song was especially popular during the American folk music revival and has been recorded by Bonnie Dobson, Judy Collins and Joan Baez, among many other artists.

As the vampire plot unfolds, the musical story takes a bit of a backseat, though a major fight scene between the remaining Club Juke revelers and the ever-growing contingent of vampires does include another major musical number. Led by Remmick, the group performs a chilling, spirited version of the hop jig “Rocky Road to Dublin,” an Irish folk music standard with roots dating back to the mid-19th century.

The next big musical moment comes after the film’s end when, taking a cue from his MCU days, Coogler includes a post-credits scene. Set in Chicago in 1992, the scene features two familiar faces: blues legend Buddy Guy, who plays elderly Sammie, and contemporary blues star Christone “Kingfish” Ingram, a member of the elder Sammie’s band.

Guy, who also performs a version of “Travelin’” on the Sinners soundtrack, was born in 1936 to Louisiana sharecroppers and moved to Chicago to pursue music when he was 21. Shortly after relocating, Guy would meet Chicago blues legend – and Mississippi native – Muddy Waters, who would become his friend and mentor. It’s a full circle moment to close out the film, and one that reinforces the importance of lineage to the blues music tradition.

Unsurprisingly, Sinners is a movie that rewards rewatches. Coogler and his collaborators built a musical world rich with detail and allusion, and did so with what was clearly an enormous amount of love and passion. If you’re a music fan, Sinners is well worth your time – just be careful if you hear a late-night knock at your door.

Sinners is now available to stream on HBO Max and is available to rent VOD. The film is also still showing in a limited number of theaters in select markets.

All images courtesy of Warner Bros. Pictures. Lead Image: Miles Caton as Sammie Moore in Warner Bros. Pictures’ Sinners.

Brent Cobb
Ain’t Rocked In a While

Posted on by Justin Hiltner

He might be a renowned lyricist and self-proclaimed songwriter-singer (not singer-songwriter). His typical sound may simmer with a supremely chill mix of country, blues, and soul. But Brent Cobb got his start with the crunchy thunder of guitar-driven rock ‘n’ roll and his seventh album takes him back.

Tapping the raw rage of garage rock, the distorted domination of ‘70s proto-metal, and more, Ain’t Rocked In a While finds this GRAMMY-nominated master of phrase returning to a world where the guitar riff is king – his first love as a musician. Co-produced with Oran Thornton and recorded live, 10 songs combine Cobb’s laid-back style with the immortal edge of bands like Black Sabbath, Metallica, and heavier inspirations still. But while old metalheads do tend to get rusty, this project is razor sharp.

Speaking with Good Country, Cobb explains the change of pace, as well as his abiding love for the rock ‘n’ roll spirit and new appreciation for classic-rock lyrics. Plus, the long-haired country boy explains how Ain’t Rocked In a While could fairly be considered “dad rock.”

I want to get the story behind this record. Ain’t Rocked in While is one of those projects that really seems to do what it say it’s going to do. How much of a creative release was this for you?

Brent Cobb: Well, this project was cool because I was focused more on riff and just really digging back into the foundation of what I grew up on. My first band was a rock band with my best friend Justin, who played guitar. He was real into Pink Floyd and AC/DC and Black Sabbath, and had me learning all those songs to sing. So when I was writing riffs and lyrics for this album, I sort of went back and was rediscovering those songs that I grew up learning.

Back then, even though I was learning the lyrics, I was just learning them to sing it. I wasn’t really paying attention to what they were saying and I didn’t think of those songs as very lyrical songs. I just enjoyed the groove. With this go ‘round, it really took all the pressure off of trying to write a lyrical song – which in turn made the lyrics come way easier. It also made me aware of just how lyrical those old classic rock songs were.

Oh, right!

I didn’t notice it or I didn’t appreciate it, but I don’t guess you would as a teenager. So that was the whole process – I was just trying to write a riff album and wanted to rock a little and show the audience a reference for a live show when they came, but wound up writing lyrical songs anyway.

I guess you just can’t help it. You’ve always been known as a storyteller and a songwriter first, and you even did a gospel record just a few cycles ago. Where does hard rock fit into your listening habits?

It all has always coexisted in my little world. My mom’s from Cleveland, Ohio, and my uncles – her brothers – they were all rockers into Led Zeppelin, The Beatles, and just the classic stuff. But then here, my dad was in a band with his brother – my other uncle – and my dad would cover the early ‘50s and ‘60s rock ‘n’ roll and my uncle would do classic country. So I grew up around that, but if you looked at any of my playlists, it’s just always been real eclectic that way for sure. For this album, Master of Reality [by] Black Sabbath was probably the biggest influence and the one that I would keep returning to for inspiration. And not just in riffs, but in the way that they structured that album to ebb and flow.

This might be a hard question to answer, but how heavy do your tastes get? What do you think would be the hardest hitting band in your collection?

Oh man. Well, [for] modern [artists], I’d probably say the band Sleep. Have you ever listened to much of them?

I don’t think so. I’m going to have to check that out right after this.

It’s like stoner metal. That’s probably the hardest stuff that I’ll listen to right now. But I don’t know – I mean, Sabbath is so hard still to this day. Those first five albums are unreal. … With Sleep, that’s some heavy stoner metal.

Yeah, I’m looking on Spotify right now. They’ve got songs like “Marijuanauts’s Theme.” [Laughs] That’s an awesome title.

Dude, I know! But that stuff is like, you can go find sections of old Sabbath songs and it’s kind of like [Sleep] built a whole sound on little sections of Sabbath songs. But then if you go further, it’s all blues – that’s all it is.

For any true rock record, the recording itself is so important – trying to capture the energy. I know you recorded live-to-tape and that seems like the rock ‘n’ roll dream, right? Was that experience different from digital recording?

Well, honestly, each of my albums have always been recorded to tape except Keep ‘Em On They Toes. But with that said, it is a modern world and we still record to tape and then dump all that into Pro Tools to where it’s easier to edit, then take that and dump it all back to tape. You get the original physical, sonic difference that is recording to tape when each tape is completely different, because the needle’s hitting different, the amp was hotter, or whatever. But then we fast forward to the modern world to where we can just really be quicker and more efficient.

I think we had 10 days blocked off to record, and then I got sick on the first two days. And then Oran [Thornton], my co-producer and head engineer, he got sick for two days. And so we wound up recording in seven or eight days.

That is a plus of the modern age for sure. In any case, it came out sounding really tight – you recorded as a band, right?

That’s right. It’s the touring band [The Fixin’s] I’ve had for a while now. … The studio we recorded at in Springfield, Missouri, was this little bitty, almost broom-closet size live room, and they were all in the main live room together. I did want to isolate myself, so I was in an even smaller little isolation booth with a window where we could still see each other. … I obviously am not as experienced in singing those type songs and playing those type riffs at the same time, so I knew I was going to screw up some lyric phrasings and I didn’t want to mess everything else up. So I was the only thing I isolated.

Where’d that title track come from? “Ain’t Rocked In a While” – this definitely has that Black Sabbath feel, stretching out to five minutes.

Straight up. It started because I had bought my son a little drum kit for his fourth birthday a couple years ago. He just loves the drums … and then I would set my amp up and get my guitar out and we’d just be jamming in his room. One day he was like, “Dad, play some rock ‘n’ roll guitar.” And I’d hit a little lick and he’s like, “No, no, rock ‘n’ roll.” I’d play another little lick. And he said, “No, dad, like Mattman” – which is [the Fixin’s guitar player] Matt [McDaniel]. I was doing the best I could, really just trying to prove to him that daddy could rock.

That’s funny!

So I came up with that “Ain’t Rocked In a While” riff and then it turned into me proving to my son, “I have rocked before, boy. It just ain’t been a while.” I thought it would be funny, but I also thought, “Well, all of us are sort of that way.” I’m nearly 40 and a father of two, so you could definitely consider this album Dad Rock, but all our kids don’t know. We all had some rock eras, whether that be in life or musically or whatever it is.

Well, you still got the hair, so I think it’s easier to make that case.

[Laughs] Hell yeah. It’s funny you say that. My mama just yesterday, she used to be a hairdresser and had her own business, and she was like, “You need to let me cut your hair.” And I was like, “Look, I’m going to keep it growing until it don’t grow no more.” I’m barely gray and I ain’t thinning too much yet. Until that happens, I’m going to keep rocking the long hair.

A little earlier you mentioned how [hard rock is] all blues at the bottom, right? I think that really comes through in a song like “Do It All the Time.”

Man, I’m going to have to give my son some co-writing credit on this album, I guess. That riff did come out very Skynyrd-esque, but … I was actually trying to do my best James Gang feel with the riff, the melody, and the double vocals on that chorus. That early James Gang stuff is so badass – but I think Skynyrd also was probably trying to do their best James Gang on some of their stuff.

Anyway, the idea of that song is from when [my son] Tuck was even younger, we’d be like “Oh man. Look dude, you ate all your food!” And he would say, “I did it, and I do it all the time.” So I always had that. I started saying “I do it all the time!” And then I don’t know how much I should say, but sometimes when you’re parents, you and your other half may not be on the same page. … You’re just both sleep-deprived and sometimes it’s hard to see. And so I think we were having a little moment of that and I was going, “I tried then and I try now and I try all the time. I did it and I do it all the time, babe!” So that’s where it came from.

Okay, one more thing here. For fans who come out and see you live, do you think this is going to change the shows? Are you guys going to rock out more or what?

I mean the only way that we’ll rock out more is we just have more songs to rock out to. But no, in every album that I’ve ever put out all the way back to 2006 with No Place Left to Leave, there’ve always been rock leaning songs in my catalog – including songs that others have recorded; some of the Whiskey Myers stuff, or The Steel Woods stuff. For a little bit there seemed like a disconnect, because I don’t think [people at my shows] were aware of that rock stuff, but it’s just a funner show to me and for us especially.

Now we just have more to pull from, and for people who show up, it’s the same show. I try to do songs from every album and I’ll take requests, too. I don’t turn those down. But now, I think people will show up and they won’t be taken by surprise at all if it does drop.

Photo Credit: Jace Kartye

Jackson and the Janks Celebrate “Garage Gospel Jank”

Posted on by Justin Hiltner

Jackson and the Janks, we started in a living room in New Orleans. Piano and guitar playing old gospel songs and trying to make a dance band. First there were two, then a third came in to use the bathroom – he was living in his van out front at the time. He sat down and played along after nature’s call. Over a year it grew from there, adding bass, saxophone, and steel guitar. We started playing shows in New Orleans, sweaty dance shows, and we didn’t have a name other than “the garage gospel band” (officially, Sam Doores’ Garage Gospel Band). We’ve branched out now and adopted New York janks into the family.

The Janks as a name came up, describing all things Janky. An old time, do-it-yourself way of playing, inspired by New Orleans R&B, rock and roll, honky tonk, and of course the sacred songs.

This playlist is a mix of sounds that influence the sentiments of Jackson and the Janks. Rollicking dance music, garage band approach, songs of love and lost love, sweet and sour, irreverent. – Jackson Lynch, Jackson and the Janks

“My Journey To The Sky” – Sister Rosetta Tharpe

There’s something wrong if Sister Rosetta is not in the conversation. True muse and queen progenitor of rock and roll, she kills me with her gospel.

“Rockin’ Bicycle” – Fats Domino

The great Fats Domino. I picked this because it inspires an approach to songwriting that gets overlooked. Have fun with the lyrical content and make fun music.

“Unchained Melody” – The Fleetwoods

I don’t take baths, but listening to this tempts me to try it out. The harmonies do it to me. My favorite version of this song.

“No More Tear Stained Makeup” – Martha & the Vandellas

This one has that lyricism and rhyme that I love. Taking a simple theme and so cleverly making it heartbreaking, don’t see it coming. Smokey Robinson at his best.

“Young Boy Blues” – Snooks Eaglin

New Orleans for real songster Snooks Eaglin played everything. Country blues, jazz, and pop songs of his day. That’s the job: play what people want to hear, do it good, and make it your own.

“Let’s Leave Here” – Jackson and the Janks

It’s about trying to not be the last one at a party that’s going under. Nothing’s happening, but you gotta leave before something does. “Gates are dropped, the service stopped, at the shop on the corner…”

“I Got Loaded” – Keith Frank & the Soileau Zydeco Band

This is a great zydeco version of a swamp-pop party song. Keith Frank (son of the famed Preston Frank) and his whole family make some of the best music I’ve ever had the privilege to dance to.

“Sweet Nothin’s” – Brenda Lee

Sugar, spice, everything nice.

“Sitting on my front porch, well do I love you? Of course,” Brenda growls and tucks me in.

“Who Will The Next Fool Be” – Charlie Rich

This speaks for itself. Just listen to how Charlie Rich sings the word “Who.”

“Life Is Too Short” – Benny Spellman

A great ballad deep cut from the man who gave us that deep voice on “Mother In Law.” Operatic. ”

We do big things in a hurry/ Let’s do what’s right to live…”

“Immigration Blues” – Duke Ellington

This secular hymn is my favorite shit. Early Duke’s orchestrated pieces like this make me regret and hope, sad and happy.

Photos courtesy of Jalopy Records.

John C. Reilly Is Mister Romantic

Posted on by Justin Hiltner

As John C. Reilly cavorts around a converted Brooklyn warehouse, his wiry hair branching heavenward, he looks a bit like a heavily rouged version of his eccentric Dr. Steve Brule. But Dr. Brule isn’t here, and neither is Reilly, in a sense. A fellow named Mister Romantic holds court instead, serenading and chatting up audience members in an effort to win their hearts. He swoons and croons, he has a microphone that looks like a rose, and he really, really wants to be loved forever, lest he be doomed to an eternity in a steamer trunk.

Reilly is the rare sort of actor whose talents span cutting dramas and gut-busting comedy antics, and underneath all of it, he’s maintained a soft spot for musical theater. Audiences have gotten a peek at that in Reilly’s Oscar-nominated embodiment of Chicago’s “Mister Cellophane,” and while he’s hammed it up as Dewey Cox in Walk Hard. He’s long nurtured his musicianship, too, with a handful of bands in his youth, a blues outfit, and his more recent cadre of bluegrass friends.

After finishing his duties as Jerry Buss in Winning Time: The Rise of the Lakers Dynasty, Reilly fixed his energy on finding some sort of remedy to the discord that he felt dominating everyday life. Mister Cellophane only got the one song, as Reilly has noted, so he drew upon more than twenty years of his own tune-collecting to develop a repertoire that felt suited to his mission and was close to his own heart. He’s pulled most of his material from the early 20th century body of the American Songbook, which Reilly expands to include a handful of Tom Waits numbers. Though Mister Romantic works a special kind of magic in person, he issued a baker’s dozen of recordings on his album What’s Not to Love? in mid-June, a more permanent evidence of his visitation.

He credits Los Angeles’ famed venue Largo with being the nexus of countless creative relationships – including Mister Romantic compatriots like David Garza, fiddler Gabe Witcher, and Sebastian Steinberg, who joins the ensemble on their recordings. The crew keep remarkably stony faces as Reilly improvises his appeals to the crowd, part of the story built around Mister Romantic’s cosmic arc: “He’s been traveling in this box for thousands of years trying to find love, and he just fails over and over. He doesn’t have a memory of the past, but the band does, and they’re stuck in this purgatory cycle with him,” Reilly says.

In chatting up different audience members between selections (“I’m not gay or straight, I’m desperate,” he offers), Reilly hopes to get everybody in the room feeling like they can open up a little bit. The songs, for Reilly, facilitate that softening in a sort of bucket-brigade through time. “‘What’ll I Do?’ could’ve been forgotten by the 1930s, but people loved that song and kept passing it along, and here I am, doing it again,” he says. “I think that’s the way to pay things forward, to pass along what you think is good.”

Now with an album release and several more Mister Romantic shows in his rearview mirror, Reilly is impassioned and reflective as he considers the value of vulnerability in a prickly modern world. His fervent belief in the fundamental goodness of human nature spills over as he shares his efforts to bring a little more love into people’s lives.

You made a point to tell your first audience participant that you weren’t bringing her up there to shame her or embarrass her, which got me thinking about how you’re watching people react to your character in real time. What has that been like for you with these performances?

John C. Reilly: It’s been a really special part of the show. I don’t know what I expected it to be when I started doing this, just kind of improvising my way through, but it’s been amazingly consistent. I say that stuff about “I’m not going to embarrass you or do anything weird” because people just don’t know what the hell the show is about, what the boundaries are. I really want to make people feel like I’m going to take care of them up there. The joke is not going to be on them.

With the audience, I’ve noticed if you really see people and the best in them, or you look for qualities that you find attractive, and you talk about them – it’s amazing the way people let down their guard and open up. It makes the whole audience feel like I’m talking directly to each one of them, even though I only get to four or five people during each show.

Have you had any reactions that have caught you off guard?

Sometimes I ask pretty heavy questions, like, “Have you ever been in love? How long did it last?” People generally want to play along, there’s no one that has ruined the interaction. People always ask me, “Are those people plants?” They’re never plants. The second thing they ask is, “Does anyone ever not cooperate?” I have to say, it’s like, 100% cooperation so far. I think part of it comes from the loving approach and the fact that I say at the beginning what the mission of the night is going to be.

It’s a really encouraging part of the show for me personally, because you really do want to believe that, in their heart of hearts, people are good. When I do this show, that is what I think when I go through the audience. I try to look at every single person directly at some point. The whole point of the show is connection – to the music, the world, to each other – and creating a live unique moment with a group of people. Whatever’s happening outside in the world is one thing, but in here, we’re all going to be connected by the end of the night.

There was a moment where you kind of scolded someone for having their phone out, but you somehow did it in the nicest way possible, where you brought it back to maintaining a connection in the moment.

I try not to even engage with what phones even are. We try to make it clear that you’re not supposed to use your phone during the show. I called that guy out just because I was surprised to see it in his hand. My point was not to say, “You broke the rules!” or get mad at him. There have been other times when people have their phones out. The point of those interactions is always to point out what’s special about this moment without a phone. When I said that, the audience almost started cheering [note: this is true]. Everyone is getting to this place where they’re starting to realize the cost of using a phone, and the separation that it creates between you and a performance or an experience.

How did Largo get to be such a major fixture in your life?

Largo has been a big part of my life since it opened in the early ’90s. It’s been a big part of my development as a singer and as a musician. I had my bluegrass band there for a long time. Mark Flanagan, who owns the place, creates such a special vibe in there, and does not allow cell phones during the shows. The audience ends up being focused in this way that’s different than other places I’ve been.

It’s kind of this temple of quality and entertainment, especially music. When I first started going to Largo, it was Jon Brion and all these different musicians moving through there – a lot of my friends who I play with now, who I played with in the past in other bands. Walk Hard, the songwriters from there – all those guys were all part of the Largo scene in one way or another. It really feels like home when I’m there, and it has its priorities right. It’s not just a place that’s about profit and selling beers, slamming them in and slamming them out. There’s a real soul to the place. I shudder to think what LA would be without Largo.

Is your bluegrass band something you think you’ll return to?

The blues, bluegrass, and this kind of show-tune world are all different aspects of me. I had a blues band before I had a bluegrass band. But I love bluegrass music, for the same reason I love all these American Songbook standards that I’m doing. That’s part of the conversation about the show that I think is really important, that Americana doesn’t just mean white Southern folk music from the 1930s.

People talk about, “What kind of category does [Mister Romantic] fit in?” To me, it’s Americana. A lot of these songs were written by Americans, and they’re not classical music. I think bluegrass definitely falls under the Americana banner, but I think songs in the American Songbook also fall under the Americana banner. Blues music falls under the banner. Why is blues music separated as African-American music? It’s part of America’s history. We should all embrace under the same umbrella.

You’ve talked about using Mister Romantic as a vehicle for getting people to open up a bit more to love and empathy. I think of romance as only one slice of the pie when it comes to loving or forms of love – why go with “romantic” as your channel into exploring empathy?

To me, romance is appreciating a beautiful sunset, or the way a flower looks or smells. Appreciating some weird little detail about a person that makes them unique, that makes you cherish them. It’s not just a Valentine’s Day card. Think about the reason that you got crushes on different people in the past. Sometimes it’s about the physical looks, but oftentimes it’s like, “Man, I just love the way that person does their art.” You crush out on people because of why they’re special. That, to me, is romantic.

On the surface of it, this guy Mister Romantic is trying to fall in love, but he doesn’t even really know what that is. He has so little experience. All he knows is, it’s a deep connection with someone else that will then stay with you forever. I’m not trying to get anyone to be anything. To me, the show is an opportunity to come together. If you’re craving connection, then you should come. I’m not trying to lecture people. I’m just pointing out the inherent truth about human beings, that we do love each other, that the secret to civilization and the reason that human beings are still around on earth is because of love.

I was seeing a lack of empathy – a coarseness to our dialogue, or a viciousness to our debate, and I thought, “Well, that’s distressing. What could I do that might lessen that?” And I decided I’ll do a show about love, and I’ll invite people to come see it, and maybe they’ll feel what I’m feeling. [Mister Romantic] is more about reminding people of what is true about us. On a good day, I think, everyone feels that people are ultimately good when the chips are down.

There’s a line from bell hooks’ All About Love about how “cynicism is the great mask of the disappointed and betrayed heart,” and when I re-read that recently, it resonated with how the crowd felt at the end of the show—like this cynical layer that a lot of us have was dissolved for a bit while we were laughing and having a good time together.

Yeah! It’s not just about me and what I’m saying. It’s also the music. The music has an alchemical effect on people that does put air in their balloons. I didn’t know that quote, but I agree with it. I say misanthropes are actually the most romantic people of all. They’re the most sensitive. They’re so sensitive that when they experience disappointment, they retreat into this place of, “Well, if it can’t be perfect, then everything is terrible.” But if you’re really truthful about the way life is, there are all these gray areas. Everyone is not an asshole. That’s a generalization. To be a true misanthrope, you’re generalizing, and not seeing what’s really there.

You have to be open to someone being a good person. I think that’s just the truth of the way things are. I do think if you’re worried and you want things to be better in the world and in your own personal life, you have to be willing to be vulnerable, and willing to reflect a world that you want to see. These things sound so rudimentary, or maybe cliché, but that’s where we’re at. We’re having to fight for empathy, to say, “Human beings have value across the board.” Human rights are at stake right now in the world. So it’s not a cliché. It’s not a thing that’s assumed to be true by everyone. These things have to be regenerated, generation after generation.

What’s something you’ve learned about yourself in the process of bringing Mister Romantic to life?

I’ve learned a lot about the courage it takes to invite people to a place and say, “I’m going to sing for you.” I had to learn what my voice is when I’m not impersonating other people. How do I sing? How do I convey my spirit through my voice? Those are big things, and making this album was a huge step. The personal journey to get yourself to believe that it’s good enough to share –that’s a big struggle for everyone, especially the first time they do it. Mister Romantic was a big step in that direction for me saying, “Whatever, I may not be the most perfect singer, but the reason that I’m singing is a good reason, and I’m going to keep doing it.”

You have to kind of have this blind faith in the mission, because there’s all kinds of slings and arrows that you can generate for yourself. But then you remember the core of it – these experiences that you have during the show, that I have from the show – and that tells you what you should be doing with yourself, what is important. If touching people the way this show touches people isn’t important, then I don’t know what is. It has given meaning to my life at a time when I was really struggling for meaning.

Make plans to meet Mister Romantic at a show near you.

Photo Credit: Bobbi Rich

Essential Country Finds

Posted on by Shelby Williamson

Editor’s Note: Each issue of Good Country, our co-founder Ed Helms will share a handful of good country artists, albums, and songs direct from his own earphones in Ed’s Picks.

Laci Kaye Booth

Couldn’t have said it better, ourselves. GEORGE F****** STRAIT! Good Country song of the season? We think so – and the internet does, too. You don’t wanna miss Laci on tour with Parker McCollum this summer and fall.

Crowe Boys

You’ll find New Orleans-based brothers Wes and Ocie Crowe at the intersection of country, indie, and rowdy millennial alt-folk. Their debut album’s title, Made To Wander, doesn’t just speak to their packed international tour schedule, it draws from their youthful days traveling with their family band, too.

The Kentucky Gentlemen

We’ve been fans of the Kentucky Gentlemen and we remain fans of the Kentucky Gentlemen! The Kentuckian twin brothers’ latest, Rhinestone Revolution, is out now, continuing to bring their energy, sparkle, and fun to mainstream country lovers the world over.

Carín León

From Sonora, Mexico to the GRAMMYs; to CMA Fest; to the cover of Billboard. Carín León exemplifies what we mean when we say “country & western” has always included Latin folk, Mexican music, and all of the roots music traditions of North America, no matter what language or any arbitrary borders. The deluxe version of his most recent smash hit album Palabra De To’s (Seca) is out now – it’s a must-listen.

Maoli

Country soul rooted in Hawaii and the Pacific islands – that’s what Maoli offers on his latest, Last Sip of Summer. You’ll be forgiven for assuming the steel guitar is the only country input offered from the vast Pacific Ocean. Maoli shows island country sounds – his being a bit like Buffett meets Chesney meets reggae – are best when grown directly in volcanic soil.

Ashley McBryde

This fan favorite Ashley McBryde track, “Rattlesnake Preacher,” has been a staple of her live shows for… well, forever. Now, a studio cut is available for the very first time. McBryde worked with producer John Osborne (of Brothers Osborne) to ensure this long-awaited rendition captured the magic of her live performances of the number. It does!

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Photo Credits: Laci Kaye Booth by Natalie Sakstrup; Crowe Boys by Nick Swift; the Kentucky Gentlemen courtesy of the artist; Carín León courtesy of Sacks & Co; Maoli by Reggie Villa; Ashley McBryde by Katie Kauss.

All Kinds of Country

Posted on by Shelby Williamson

Editor’s Note: Each issue of Good Country, our co-founder Ed Helms will share a handful of good country artists, albums, and songs direct from his own earphones in Ed’s Picks.

William Beckmann

Born and raised in a border town in Texas, singer-songwriter William Beckmann perfectly illustrates how Mexican folk, Tejano music, and country have always been closely intertwined. Latin folk is Americana; mariachi and Norteño are country. With Good Country like his, that connectedness feels intuitive – and obvious. Beckmann’s new album arrives June 20.

Rhiannon Giddens & Justin Robinson

Rhiannon Giddens & Justin Robinson, founding members of revered string band the Carolina Chocolate Drops, reunite on a new old-time album, What Did The Blackbird Say to the Crow, which celebrates North Carolina repertoire, fiddle, banjo, and front porch pickin’. I’m excited to join them both – and many other special guests like Steve Martin, Amythyst Kiah, Leyla McCalla, and more – at the Hollywood Bowl on June 18 for a special one-night-only edition of their Old-Time Revue.

The SteelDrivers

“Uneasy listening” or “bluegrass soul,” whatever you call their style of music, the SteelDrivers are a bluegrass institution. Their new album, Outrun, is their first with Sun Records, an excellent label match for a group that combines bluegrass, blues, country, and soul with music that’s equally at home in Nashville, Memphis, Muscle Shoals, and beyond. Love this band of ringers!

Jack Van Cleaf

There’s a new sort of Americana/country/Gen Z folk brewing between social media and music cities like Nashville, Chicago, and LA – and Jack Van Cleaf is at the center of its rise. Is it alt-country? Is it contemplative bedroom folk? Is it indie rock? Is it singer-songwriter Americana? It’s all of the above. Check out his latest LP, JVC, to discover your own terms for his striking style.

Watchhouse

My old pals Andrew and Emily were a pick last year when they guested on “Pink Skies” on Zach Bryan’s smash hit album, The Great American Bar Scene. Now they’re back with a full-length album of their own, Rituals, out today! We’ve been covering and collaborating with Watchhouse for over a decade, so stay tuned for more celebrations of the new record coming soon to BGS and Good Country.

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Photo Credits: William Beckmann by Connor Robertson; Rhiannon Giddens & Justin Robinson by Karen Cox; The SteelDrivers by Glenn Rose; Jack Van Cleaf by Joseph Wasilewski; Watchhouse by Jillian Clark.

Sawtooth
Country Soul

Posted on by Shelby Williamson

To say Kashus Culpepper’s life has changed over the last five years is an understatement. A former state champion wrestler, firefighter, and EMT, the Alabama native developed a raspy, smoke-and-voodoo vocal while stationed in Spain with the U.S. Navy in 2020, forced to pass the pandemic in his bunk. Since then, he’s knocked over one milestone after another.

With a distinctive mix of country, blues, Southern rock, and soul, the 27-year-old cites Robert Johnson, Bill Withers, and Hank Williams as inspirations and is now bringing his roots-renegade instincts to mainstream fans. Despite only releasing his first official track in June of 2024, the music industry short-timer has earned big-time appreciation.

That includes the respect of heroes like Elton John and John Mayer, a Grand Ole Opry debut, tour dates around the country, and inclusion on 2025 “artist-to-watch” lists at GRAMMY.com, Apple, Billboard, Pandora, and more. Culpepper just finished a run of dates with Leon Bridges and he’ll hit the road with Whiskey Myers in June before joining tours by Sierra Ferrell, Darius Rucker, and others later on in the summer. It would all be overwhelming, if he had time to think about it.

“I’ve just been taking it day by day,” Culpepper tells Good Country with a hearty laugh, waiting to perform at a community festival in Arkansas last month. “I think that’s the best course of action. Don’t think too far in the future and just take each show, each writing session, each recording session one at a time. Just pray everything works out and keep going. … Because when things started happening, I was like, ‘Oh, snap.’”

We wanted to get to know Culpepper before anything else “happens,” and figure out what’s fueling the hype. As it turns out, this all-natural talent is just going with the flow.

I read that you didn’t even start playing guitar until you were in Spain for the Navy, right? What made you want to do that?

Kashus Culpepper: Yeah, in Spain we got shut down and I didn’t have nothing else to do, man. I mean, literally I was bored out my mind. It’s a different type of boredom, because during COVID you couldn’t do nothing. It’s not like you can just go outside or go to a bar or hang with your friends. We couldn’t do nothing. So this was a weird point in my life and my buddy had a guitar in the barracks. I was like, “Well, this is a perfect time. I literally have nothing to do.” I just went on YouTube and looked up covers I wanted to learn. Music has always been something I go back to whenever life is hard. So I resorted back to music and that ended up leading me to learn guitar, eventually learn to write songs.

Thank God for YouTube, huh?

Shout out Marty Schwartz!

You seem to have a lot of diverse tastes, but that bluesy, soulful country thing – why did that speak to you?

I think maybe that’s just my music taste. My first taste of music was gospel, and I’m from Southern Alabama, so gospel there, it’s really rootsy already. It already sounds like a folk song. And the way they sing it sounds so bluesy, like old Son House type of vibes. From there I got into blues music outside of church. I got into country music and R&B and folk music a little. I’m all over the place when I listen to music. I can go from Allman Brothers to a Conway Twitty song really quick.

But I know you like John Mayer and all that stuff, too, right?

Yeah, yeah. I mean, I love so many of those rock artists, ZZ Top, Led Zeppelin, Skynyrd. People ask me all the time my influence and I’m just like, “Bro, it’s so hard to name everybody.” John Mayer was a huge thing for me. Recently I went back to Norah Jones, I’m like, “Man, I used to love this record.” But with my music, at the end of the day, it’s just centered on my lyrics. I just want it to feel as rootsy as possible, because all the music I come from – blues, folk, R&B, soul, gospel – it’s all roots music at the end of the day.

Your voice is so good at expressing these really raw emotional states, I think. Is that how you are naturally? Or does that only come out in your music?

Most of the time? Honestly man, it’s just with the music. It’s hard to open up to the people. I think for me music has been great, just to express how I actually feel through my singing and my lyrics. I don’t usually just tell people.

So you’re from Alabama. After the Navy, did you go home and keep playing?

I got out the Navy in 2022 and by that point I already had gigs booked on the Mississippi Gulf Coast. I was booked at all these casinos, all these bars. I was booked out for a year in advance. I got out and went straight to full-time doing cover band shows pretty much for another year, until I literally couldn’t take any more of it. Then that’s when I decided I really want to write songs. Literally, I decided “I’m going to move back home to save as much money as I can and move to Nashville.” I was home for maybe a week or two and posting a lot on TikTok and I remember I was in my mom’s living room. I posted a TikTok, I went out because I had an interview for a job, I got back home, and it had reached 100,000 views. From there it was just, “Oh, snap. It’s going on.”

@kashculpeppermusic Replying to @Casey Wayne One week till “Man of His Word” drops! Appreciating all the support on this one❤️ Pre-save link in bio🔥 #country #singersongwriter #original #kashusculpepper #newmusic #livemusic #countrymusic #countrymusiclover #tour #soul #newcountry ♬ original sound – Kashus Culpepper

That’s awesome. Congratulations on how that all turned out. I think one reason for it might be that your music seems so unconventional, almost untamed. Maybe because you did it on your own? Do you feel like fans are hungry for that?

I think so. We talked about John Mayer. John Mayer is kind of like that. He’s all over the place. Sometimes he’ll do a blues song and then straight up pop, and then an R&B song with Leon Bridges. I think people just love that from artists. Artists just being artists. Just do whatever the song feels like. That’s how I feel with songs.

“A Man of His Word” is super soulful, with lots of that gospel influence and a big raspy vocal. Tell me about being the man a girl deserves. Where’s that theme coming from?

I wrote that song with Natalie Hemby and at the time we was just talking about life. The song is from a perspective of a guy looking into a girl and she’s going through hardships, because she don’t have a man of his word. She’s drinking a lot, doing a whole bunch of stuff. The song has a lot of me in it. I grew up with a single mother and you don’t know how those things can affect you without having somebody in your life you can trust. You get the feeling you can’t really trust nobody, because that’s not part of your life, and that leads to mental health problems or substance abuse. You don’t even notice it at the time, until you look back and you’re like, “Dang, that’s why I feel that way.”

After that comes “Broken Wing Bird” with Sierra Ferrell and it’s on the opposite end of the spectrum. Very threadbare and folky, right?

Oh man. So I’m a huge fan of Willie Nelson. One of my favorite songs is “Funny How Time Slips Away” – I just love so much the crooner era that he was doing – and I wanted a song that felt like that.

I wrote the song about somebody that’s not really good for you and you just keep taking ‘em back regardless, because you love them and no matter what they do, you’re always going to. So she’s like my broken-winged bird – no matter what she does, she’s flying back and I’m always going to help her out and then she’ll probably be on her way again.

It’s been good getting to know you a little. Big picture, what do you hope people take away from your music?

I think overall, I hope they can see I’m just an artist trying to express the way I see things, and I hope in some way they can find music that can fit every part of their life. Whether they’re trying to have a good time out partying, or if they want to soak into the sadness of a lover they lost, I just hope my music can fit some aspect of their life. And I hope they can enjoy it.

Photo Credit: Cole Calfee

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BGS 5+5: Cat Terrones

Posted on by Editor

Artist: Cat Terrones
Hometown: San Pedro, California
Latest Album: Shelter in Our Beauty

Personal nicknames (or rejected band names): Cat is the nickname my best friend as a kid gave me in junior high. It got lost in the shuffle for a while in college. I went back to Cathy, or Catherine, and for a time Ginger when I sang in blues bands. But I readopted it eventually. I thought, let’s make this simple. But also it’s just more fun and direct, and brings me back to a more essential spirit I like.

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

My whole life I’ve spent a lot of time around the ocean. I think the ocean teaches you to respect depth, power, mystery, and wonder. It naturally encourages curiosity, while also helping you understand there’s always more you can’t know or see. I consider myself a pearl diver — but for songs. And there’s just certain passageways, dangers, challenges you understand you’ll have to deal with, if it’s going to be anything other than an easy surface level experience. Being okay with the unknown, open and curious to see what comes next.

The ocean has somehow also taught me about time, about energy waves, sound, imagination and being able to hold whole worlds in your imagination that you may never see, building worlds, building models. Then there’s the aspect of Mother Ocean; the impermanence, the movement, the immense creative waters of the earth, getting perspective, being able to zoom in and zoom out, that natural power can be intense. The deep presence to individual life being so precious and precarious, rare but also vast. It’s rare I write a song that doesn’t at least have a water reference, whether I leave it in the lyrics or not depends on how I think the song needs to stay connected to water.

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

The blues. I don’t consider myself a blues singer but for a while I was trying that on and learning from local blues musicians in Southern California. I love Koko Taylor’s song, “Voodoo Woman.” Sometimes I just need to put that track on and hear her shout and own that song. The horn riff on it is so funky. Also, Memphis Minnie. I found her music and guitar playing fascinating and enigmatic, even as the songs were pretty straightforward lyrically, as per the genre. She was a real original and an originator, and I appreciated that about her.

Which artist has influenced you the most … and how?

Sinead O’Connor. I was thirteen when her big song with Prince came out, “Nothing Compares 2 U.” I sat on the floor, cross legged and read the liner notes, discovering that she wrote almost all the other songs. I remember very clearly thinking the words, “I want to do that.” It took until almost graduating high school before I realized I could sing and write my own songs. I wanted to do what she was doing: telling stories, being vulnerable and singing the truth telling. So she’s who I learned that songs are where we can say whatever we need to; painfully true things, fleeting things, big emotions or stunningly small yet profound emotions.

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

I have a song on my previous EP called Josephine, and I’d say that song was probably the toughest to navigate writing. On the one hand, the emotion was very palpable, and I think I needed to write that song (I’m sure I did) to process some aspects of grief. But it was a really heavy song for me. It tells my own story and the story of someone in my community we lost. It’s about a family who tried everything but their daughter succumbed to a tragic accidental death that was preventable. At the start, I felt compelled to write a song celebrating the beauty of these women we lost. Instead what came out was a song about the grief, survivor’s guilt, and the sense of connection that goes beyond the physical world. How it feels when tragedy cleaves into our lives and communities and changes the fabric of our experience forever. I can’t say it was comforting writing it. But now it feels somehow grounding and cathartic for me when I sing it.

What would a perfect day as an artist and creator look like to you?

In the making of this album, I had many ideal days. Sitting down with a song, being in a natural environment, like near a river or the ocean or lots of trees, playing music, singing, letting a new song come through. Then a good healthful lunch with lots of fresh veggies and tea. Then another session of working on a song before cooking dinner with friends and watching the sunset. And then a song circle with songwriters gathering around a bonfire or running off to catch fireflies.

Photo Credit: Jo Babb

The SteelDrivers Celebrate 20 Years, Usher in New Chapter With ‘Outrun’

Posted on by Justin Hiltner

With four lead vocalists, seven studio albums, one GRAMMY Award to their name, and countless fans won over, The SteelDrivers have been one of this century’s most consistent and trailblazing bluegrass bands. That longevity can be credited to three things – the strength of their catalog of all-original songs, their collective precision picking, and the family atmosphere the band has cultivated together since forming in 2005.

Despite not joining forces until then, banjoist Richard Bailey says he’s known bandmates Tammy Rogers (fiddle) and Brent Truitt (mandolin from 2012 to present) since they were teenagers. His first run in with Mike Fleming (bass) and Mike Henderson (mandolin 2007 to 2011) came not long after during a college ski trip, with the group remaining close ever since. In the early 2000s Bailey relocated to Nashville from Memphis and reconnected with Henderson, regularly joining him at the Station Inn during Sunday night bluegrass jams and setting the foundation for what would eventually become The SteelDrivers. Then one day Henderson rang him up and was glowing about a young kid he’d just started writing with named Chris Stapleton who was wanting to play a little bluegrass.

“We eventually got together at his house and nobody knew Chris except for Henderson,” Bailey tells BGS. “We rehearsed a few bluegrass standards and then Chris began singing and Tammy, Mike, and I all looked at each other and went, ‘damn!’ I remember asking if the song he sang was an old Stanley Brothers tune and he said that it was actually one that he wrote.”

By that point, Henderson and Stapleton had already been penning songs together for a few years, with one of their most notable co-writes to that point being “Higher Than The Wall” from Patty Loveless on 2003’s On Your Way Home – a full seven years before The SteelDrivers eventually cut it on 2010’s Reckless. With their songwriting prowess already well established, the band opted to lean all the way in, keeping to the pattern of only recording songs crafted by them. Early on that mostly consisted of songs from Stapleton and Henderson, but has extended to all of the band in the years that followed, with Rogers writing the entirety of 2020’s Bad For You and the band’s newest member, Matt Dame, contributing songs for the first time ever on the group’s latest effort, Outrun.

“Starting with our very first record we determined that we were only going to play original music and we’ve never wavered from that,” explains Rogers. “It’s always been when you come to see The SteelDrivers that you’re not going to hear an updated version of ‘Little Cabin Home On The Hill’ or a modern country song done bluegrass style. There’s nothing wrong with any of that, but the whole point of the band originally was two songwriters coming together – Chris Stapleton and Mike Henderson – and everything else grew around that.”

That persistence of sticking with original material doesn’t only extend to The SteelDrivers recorded catalog, though. As Rogers points out, you’ll also be hard-pressed to hear any covers during the band’s live show. Per Bailey, the only such instance came during their televised Grand Ole Opry debut in 2008 when Charlie Daniels joined them on stage for a sing along to Flatt & Scruggs’ “I’m Gonna Sleep With One Eye Open.”

However, the band has regularly employed and worked with writers outside the group to craft songs centered around what Fleming describes as “uneasy listening music where bad things happen to good people.” This includes the likes of the venerable Verlon Thompson (“Booze And Cigarettes”), George Strait, Martina McBride, and Pam Tillis collaborator Leslie Satcher (“Outrun,” “Bad For You”); and German-born Thomm Jutz (“I Choose You,” “Cut You Down”), with whom Rogers has written over 140 songs (and counting).

“We’re fortunate to have always had wonderful songwriters in the band no matter who the membership was,” clarifies Fleming. “As it’s morphed through different CDs and personnel the strength of the songwriting has never wavered. Our goal has always been to serve the song, no matter who is singing it.”

Regardless of who’s been writing – or singing the songs for that matter – the band’s impeccable storytelling and bluesy grit has never faltered, even when lineup changes shook the band to its core. The first of those came in 2010 when Stapleton left to begin pursuing his solo career – a move that has resulted in him becoming not just one of the most well known country singers, but one of the most renowned vocalists of any genre globally. Henderson followed a year later, with Gary Nichols and Truitt stepping in to fill each of their shoes, respectively.

“I would’ve loved it had Stapleton never left the band – I mean who doesn’t want to be in a band with Chris Stapleton?” Rogers continues, “But when he left we had to make the decision of do we keep going or do we stop, because it wasn’t going to continue the same way that it had before. It wasn’t even a choice to me, though – I wanted to keep playing. To me that was better than no SteelDrivers at all.”

With two of their founding members gone, the band set out to prove they could still create bluegrass bangers and it didn’t take long for their efforts to pay off. Five years into their new look lineup The SteelDrivers won their first GRAMMY Award, taking home the honor for Best Bluegrass Album with The Muscle Shoals Recordings at the Academy’s 58th annual gathering in 2015. According to Rogers, the GRAMMY completely changed the band’s trajectory and continues to have a positive impact over a decade later.

“There’s been a lot of discussion in recent years about the validity of the GRAMMYs, but for us the recognition from the Academy has been a game changer,” states Rogers. “There’s a huge difference between being GRAMMY-nominated and a GRAMMY winner. For us, we were suddenly validated and were able to play bigger shows and venues that wouldn’t have considered or booked us prior to winning.”

In addition to validating their decision to keep pushing on, the band’s success post-Stapleton has also proven that they excel at finding new vocalists with their own distinct styles and vibrant storytelling to fill the void. First it was the funky, bluesy, and soulful sensibilities of Nichols. After him came the rock ‘n’ roll energy and piercing holler of Kelvin Damrell – who Rogers described as “the highest pitched singer of anyone we’ve had in the band.” He’s the only Kentuckian other than Stapleton to ever be in the band and sang lead for over three years – including on 2020’s Bad For You – prior to stepping aside in the summer of 2021.

It was then that the band recruited Matt Dame, solidifying the lineup they still have today. While each of the four singers have their own sounds, Rogers says there’s also plenty of characteristics that tie each of their eras together. “We figured out early on that it’s not about finding someone who sounds like Chris, but finding someone with a soulful, gravely, raspy and bluesy quality and letting them put their own spin on things,” says Rogers. “Aside from looking for those attributes we’ve never asked anyone to sing a certain way. Even though they sound similar, within two seconds of listening to a song I can tell whether it’s Kelvin, Chris, Gary, or Matt singing. They’re all distinct in my mind.”

Arguably even more impressive than the band’s success and consistency in sound through its different chapters has been their knack for continuing to make cutting edge bluegrass music with singers not steeped in bluegrass history with voices that generally “don’t fit” the traditional blueprint. From Stapleton on, the band has gravitated toward gritty blues and southern rock more than anything else. They’re comfortable at the confluence of electric and acoustic sounds, with one foot firmly planted in the past and the other stirring up dust and turning heads as it propels string band music into a completely new dimension.

“Chris Stapleton was not a bluegrass singer,” insists Fleming. “He was more of a blues singer, but the arrangements were always with bluegrass instruments. As a result, our propensity was to go toward playing bluegrass, but we never shied away from a song we thought we might not be able to play. For instance, ‘Midnight Train To Memphis’ from our first album was a bluesy rock ‘n’ roll number that Richard Bailey messed around on with on banjo one day. We have these bluegrass instruments, but we’re not confined to exclusively playing that way as long as we’re serving the song.”

Much like they’ve always served the song, The SteelDrivers’ fans have served them well in return, sticking by their side and continuing to buy tickets and albums through the years as the group has weathered changes in their lineup and sound. It’s led to an unprecedented run of success that Rogers jokingly compared to another bluegrass great.

“It’s almost the Ralph Stanley model,” she jokes. “After Carter [Stanley] passed away he had Larry Sparks, Roy Lee Centers, and Keith Whitley join him. It was a great line of singers that followed, all of whom embodied that Carter Stanley sound. We’ve also had several incredible vocalists with their own styles come through the band that we’ve been able to have success with by honing in on a singular sound together.”

The latest person the band brought in to hone in on that sound, Matt Dame, is a longtime Nashville songwriter and session player who joined in 2021 after a referral by friend and esteemed writer Gary Baker (John Michael Montgomery, Alabama, Lonestar). A couple rehearsals followed and by the end of July he was out on the road playing his first shows with the group. Having worked behind the scenes in the music industry for nearly as long as The SteelDrivers had been around, the move to performing in front of large crowds night in and night out was a big adjustment for Dame, but one he quickly found himself falling in love with.

“You do anything for 15 or 20 years and it becomes your comfort zone,” admits Dame. “I really enjoyed the session world, but it’s a lot different. Now I get a realtime reaction to what I do – there’s no stopping to go live again because you were flat. What I’ve loved most from our shows is the crowd singing the songs back to us, which can really carry you along.”

“There’s never a spot where you lose the audience or feel the need to kick into ‘Wagon Wheel’ to get everyone singing again, because the body of original work is so strong. It stands tall on its own,” he continues. “That speaks more to the power of the song than of any one vocalist, which says a lot because the band has had some incredible singers through the years. I’m just hanging on and trying to put my own spin on things.

“We’re all different, but one way we’re all the same is we all can deliver the songs in our own way that’s very believable. It sounds like somebody’s really living what they’re singing, not just going through the motions.” Even having been on the outside looking in for so long, Dame says that it’s hard to ignore the formidable nature of The SteelDrivers’ songwriting catalog, one that he’s thrilled to finally be a part of on Outrun – the band’s first project on the famed Sun Records (and also the label’s first bluegrass album). The record is his second with the band following 2023’s gospel project, Tougher Than Nails, that saw him only singing and playing guitar. Now, on his second go-round, he integrates himself even further, helping to write the songs “On My Way,” “Emma Lee,” and “Rosanna.”

“It was a really cool feather in my hat to be able to write some songs for this album and getting to do it on Sun Records is like the icing on the cake,” he exclaims. “I’m a huge Elvis fan and growing up in Arkansas listened to Johnny Cash all the time, so my eyes lit up when I heard we’d be their first bluegrass album ever.”

In addition to featuring the co-writes from Dame, Outrun also sees the band paying tribute to Henderson, who died unexpectedly from a pulmonary embolism in September 2023 – mere weeks after the release of Tougher Than Nails – with cuts of his songs “Prisoner’s Tears” and “Painted And Poison.” Although he hadn’t played with The SteelDrivers since 2011, his loss shook the band, which Rogers calls him the architect of, along with the entire bluegrass and country worlds.

“We knew we wanted to honor him in some way, which is what kickstarted talks for this new record and led to our shortest cycle between records yet,” confides Rogers. “In addition to recording two of his songs on it we’re also planning to have a slideshow commemorating him and 20 years of the band on some of our tour dates later this year.”

It’s tough enough to survive as a band for two decades when everything is going right, so it speaks volumes for The SteelDrivers making it as long as they have with all the obstacles that have gotten in their way. At the same time, the group’s unrivaled level of talent – both on their respective instruments and with their insatiable songwriting – have more than cemented their place in the bluegrass and American roots music zeitgeist for generations to come. For Dame, it’s a legacy that’s equally intimidating and exciting to be a part of.

“Professionally I’ve grown, because I’m doing something that’s new to me, but also because I’m doing it surrounded by a band where everybody does their parts with excellence,” he reflects. “If you don’t carry your weight it’s really going to be noticeable, which has pushed me to be better with everything that I bring to the group.”

Photo Credit: Glenn Rose