It’s 2024 recap time on Basic Folk! Cindy & Lizzie dive into a most special year-end reflection, featuring highlights from our honest conversations with folk musicians. We revisit the top episode of the year, Anna Tivel & Jeffrey Martin’s insightful discussion on navigating artistic challenges and living a simple life. Cindy shares her favorite episode featuring her co-host Lizzie No talking about her career-defining album, Halfsies (our 250th episode!). In turn, Lizzie’s favorite honest convo came from Leyla McCalla onboard the Cayamo cruise. We sat in the ship lounge and dug in with Leyla about the “folk process” and her thoughts on cruising, as a Haitian-American, as we ported in Hispaniola aboard a luxury cruise line. (Spoiler: it is complex!)
Basic Folk also checks in with friend Jontavious Willis about his biggest lesson of 2024 and what defining success as an independent artist looks like as he has just released his latest, West Georgia Blues. We also welcome Rose Cousins’ heartfelt words on embracing change as she prepares to release her next record, Conditions of Love – Vol. 1 (out March 14, 2025). As the episode ends, Lizzie leaves us with some words of wisdom:
“We are at a time of year where your body wants to be doing less. We’ve just survived a chaos clown show of violence in the election. Our culture is shifting rapidly. It’s okay if the things that used to work for you don’t work anymore. You’re allowed to start over. You’re allowed to try new things. You’re allowed to tell people in your life, ‘I’ve changed.’ You’re allowed to listen to new artists. You’re allowed to change how you dress. You can do it all. 2025 is a new year and you have freedom. And that’s my blessing to you.” – Lizzie No
Photo Credit: Lizzie No by Cole Nielsen; Rose Cousins by Lindsay Duncan; Leyla McCalla by Chris Scheurich; Jontavious Willis courtesy of the artist; Anna Tivel by Cody Onthank; Jeffrey Martin courtesy of the artist.
Growing up in a musical family, I was exposed to a lot of different sounds from an early age – a lot of them, not by choice. I had a dad who preferred country radio and led gospel music at our church. My mom played classical and Civil War songs on the piano daily while I played with my toys. Next were two older siblings using seniority to lord over the dials at every chance – they also both played classical piano.
As I got older and carved away at my own musical sensibilities, these dictates became accidental influences to the soundtrack of my life and shaped who I have become as a songwriter and musician. This playlist includes some early influences along with music that has turned me on for one reason or another, which I’ll do my best to explain. Thank you to everyone who has helped shape the soundtrack of my life so far, especially my family and mentors. – Nathan Trueb, Another Glory
“Surfer Girl” – The Beach Boys
Some of my earliest memories growing up involve the Beach Boys. I remember the Endless Summer cassette tape and its painted album cover distinctly. We would listen to it on road trips and I remember my dad and his friends playing guitars and singing these songs. My older brother got really into the Beach Boys and I remember he loved this song. Even though he told me he didn’t know why, but it made him sad. It also became my 2-year-old daughter’s favorite song and band.
“Why Not Me” – The Judds
As much as I didn’t want to like country music, it started to become harder to make excuses as to why just as soon as I started to play the guitar and take music more seriously. If you were to ask anyone in my grade school what music they liked, the only acceptable answer was, “Everything BUT country.” The more discerning my ear became I couldn’t deny the masterful playing and even, dare I say, “shredding” of the players on these then-contemporary records. The other thing that country brought to the table were some perfectly crafted, three-minute-and-twenty-nine second pop masterpieces like this one. Although I couldn’t show it outwardly to my family, I was rocking out on the inside.
“Black Cadillac” – Lightnin’ Hopkins
We used to go over to my uncle’s house from time to time when my mom was at work. On one visit, around the time when I had just started playing guitar, I found out my uncle played a left-handed acoustic guitar that I really admired. I also had no idea that he had been learning some blues and showed me a few licks and we jammed together. He had a few records laid out and this one leaped into my hands. He put it on and I couldn’t believe my ears. The voice, the guitar, the storytelling and humor. I did that thing where I didn’t let go of the record until my uncle suggested I take it home. I still play that same copy to this day.
“Going to California” – Led Zeppelin
I owe the most to my brother as a musical influence – I guess just influence in general. He was always there with the next record I needed to hear. It was a pipeline from his friends to him, him to me, and then me to my friends. I’ll never forget the day that he played me Led Zeppelin and it completely blew my mind. Growing up in a conservative household, I had never heard anything like it and everything changed after that. I became obsessed with Led Zeppelin like people get obsessed with Harry Potter or WWII. “Going to California” came to me around the time of first loves and I really got it. “Sell the Farm” off of the Another Glory record is a direct hat-tip to this song. I love the way it made me feel and how it still transports me to long phone calls in my attic room in the summer time.
“Michelle” – The Beatles
My first memorable crush was named Michelle. She was my sister’s friend and would visit our house often. We grew up on a farm and that meant that my brand of flirting was often hurtling cow pies at my sister’s friends. Somehow that first love was unrequited.
I remember a trip to the Puget Sound where my brother loaned me his Beatles 1962-1966 disc (the red one with the whole apple/cut apple on the compact disc), popping it in the Discman, putting the headphones on, and listening to that song over and over. I loved it, but it made me sad. Now I knew how my brother felt when he listened to “Surfer Girl.” I sing this song to my daughter and it’s still amazes me that they wrote it. Like, how? I’m sure there’s a story about it somewhere, but I don’t think I really want to know. My wife and I have been together since high school and the first time I visited her bedroom she had every single Beatles album in a dedicated, spinning CD tower.
“Naptown Blues” – Herb Ellis
My mom was driving me to school one day my freshman year and I had the local jazz radio station on, 89.1 KMHD. I think playing the guitar a lot when I was homeschooled for a couple years took me on a trajectory from Led Zeppelin to Steely Dan to trying to understand jazz by listening to the radio. This song came on as she dropped me off. I said, “I don’t know what this is, but I want to play like that.” Bless her heart, she must have written it down as the DJ read that title after the song ended (in their soft, publicly-funded morning voice), because I unwrapped this CD for my next birthday and I remember listening to it while I went to sleep until I had every part memorized.
“Don’t Think Twice, It’s Alright” – Bob Dylan
Speaking of girlfriends, my first real girlfriend in high school had an older brother who was a Dylan fanatic. I remember looking through his 72-disc Case Logic CD case. I opened up the first page, Dylan. Second page, Dylan. The entire thing was filled with Bob Dylan. He asked me if I was a fan and I remember saying, “not yet.” For some reason I had a feeling I might be someday.
Well, I don’t remember how, but when I moved out of my folks’ place this song hit me like a freight train. Dylan’s influence is so obvious in any modern music, especially when you are a guy fingerpicking a guitar, but we have to give credit where it’s due. I’d like my old girlfriend’s brother to know that I finally crossed the Rubicon.
“My Funny Valentine” – Bill Evans & Jim Hall
I’ve had a few guitar teachers in my life and had the pleasure of taking some lessons in college from Jerry Hahn. He had his own books and I think was a big fan of Jim Hall. He turned me on to this record and this style of walking bass with chords. He also taught me to keep a list of “must-have” or “must-find” records in my wallet for the record store. I still have a list to this day in my notes. He said this one should be on there. Years after taking from him, I found an original copy somewhere in California. This is one of my all-time favorite records.
“Run That Body Down” – Paul Simon
I got pretty into this record at some point and into Paul Simon’s writing in general. I used to have two enormous PA speakers that we used for band practice in my basement. Late at night I would sit between them and listen to music very loud. This song was on and the guitar solo caught me by surprise. I looked up the song to find out who played the solo. It was my old teacher, Jerry Hahn!
I ran into him at a jazz club not too long after and asked him about it. He recalled it perfectly and said he turned down the offer to come to the studio because he was “too busy.” They kept calling, so he went and remembered being frustrated. Take after take, Paul wasn’t getting what he wanted. Finally Jerry took the solo in a totally different direction, against his good sense, with the wah pedal and all. After the take Paul exclaimed, “That’s it!”
“One Mo’Gin” – D’Angelo
After listening to all of the Motown one can get their hands on, you start to wish there was more. Or, that it continued to evolve into modernity with class and style instead of flaming out, morphing into disco dances by designer drugs. Like when your parents started “raising the roof.” At some point you just have to put it down, like Old Yeller. Then decades later someone comes along who has filled themselves to the brim with that old tonic and others that had filled up on the same, and it comes spilling out in biblical proportions in a perfect statement. Voodoo is that album. D’Angelo is that prophet. I have listened to this record so much in my life that it’s hard to state exactly what influence it has had on me. “Fool For You” was a song written a long time ago and it was a direct attempt to do something in that vein.
“I Don’t Know” – Nick Hakim
As you get older it gets harder to get the same high from music that you did when stuff first really freaked you out – or maybe that’s just me. So, when you find that something or someone, it might become an instant obsession. Nick Hakim had that effect on me. I loved everything he was doing; it was so different, sonically, than most of the bedroom pop stuff or neo-soul. It felt like a modern psychedelic Voodoo, but also just heartbreakingly beautiful. His ability to mix his jazz-school-kid sensibilities with gospel and indie-rock set a high bar and still does.
“The Only Thing” – Sufjan Stevens
It seems that everyone has a favorite Sufjan. His prolific list of albums seem limitless in their scope and bending of genres. The only Sufjan for me is Carrie & Lowell. I don’t think there is an album that equals it in creating a soundtrack for sadness, grief, regret, love, life, and death – at least not that I have found. His lyrical imagery seems to be divinely inspired and it’s hard to pick one part of the song, so I’ll quote the first words:
The only thing that keeps me from driving this car Half-light, jack knife into the canyon at night Signs and wonders: Perseus aligned with the skull Slain Medusa, Pegasus alight from us all
“The Magician” – Andy Shauf
This song came on the radio while I was driving in Portland over a bridge with a view of the river and the city behind it. (I often remember an exact time I heard a song with perfect clarity. Maybe everyone does? “Mo Money Mo Problems” I was passing the Chevron on Molalla Ave., Oregon City, circa 2001.)
After the 8-bar intro to this intriguing new single on the local indie radio station, I nearly crashed my car. I instantly remember being like, “OKAY!” and banging my head when the beat dropped. It’s a perfect song to me and a perfect recording that is perfectly produced. You can’t say that about every song you love.
“If I’m Unworthy” – Blake Mills
Every guitarist sooner or later was exposed to Blake Mills. A friend of mine turned me onto his first album early, before all the hype, and I quickly became a fan. His songs and voice weren’t typical and were totally unique to him. I had watched a lot of videos of him playing and he quickly became the best living guitarist that I was aware of.
His long-awaited sophomore album was finally announced. When he came to town to support the record he was booked in a small room, seated. His name was so unknown I couldn’t find anybody to go with me. I also had inside knowledge that his then girlfriend, Fiona Apple, was likely to make an appearance. So I stood silently in line to the sold-out night and kept my mouth shut.
During his set, I popped out to the bar to get a drink and bellied up to the bar. I let the woman to my left go ahead of me. It was Fiona Apple. She laughed when I nearly spit out my drink. “If I’m Unworthy,” in the moment it was released, became the new “guitar song” for guitar nerds. Every single guitarist has to learn it, as a rite of passage; like Stevie Ray Vaughan or “Sweet Home Alabama.” The song is a snapshot of the Blake Mills that revolutionized guitar once again and then quickly retired, confounding dad-rockers with little tube amps and glass slides adorned to their fingers. Will the real Blake Mills please stand up?
“Body” – Julia Jacklin
MLK & N Fremont, near the Chevron. That’s where I first heard this song. Maybe I only have autobiographical, photographic memories of songs if they involve a gas station, specifically Chevron. We were riding in a friend’s Subaru, which we always drove around in. A peace-sign necklace swinging from her rearview mirror, rain hitting the windshield, the music always blasting. I had never heard the song before and I was all-in from the downbeat. Such a heavy song and so personal.
Julia’s lyrics make you feel like it was you yourself on that Sydney tarmac. And the haunting question, “Do you still have that photograph?/ Would you use it to hurt me?” Like the photograph, the song is naked and circles around a singular progression, building tension until finally quietly cracking open for some light at the end.
“I guess it’s just my life, and it’s just my body…” which, on the first listen, could sound sarcastic, but on the repeat she sounds relieved or at least vindicated. And of course it is probably both. The progression gives hope that this chapter of her life, or ours, is closed. In my experience, that is what a lot of good songs do: close a chapter for the artist and the listener.
“Are You Looking Up” – Mk.Gee
Not a secret any more. Still mysterious, but not just the guitar-guy in the Dijon video. Still shy, but now he’s in the spotlight. The leap from his 2018 album to Two Star & the Dream Police might as well have been a tightrope walk over the Grand Canyon. I loved the old stuff, but when I saw the live video of “Are You Looking Up” with Mk.gee hanging out of a tour bus or train car – whatever it was – I nearly fell out of my chair. I had a hard time explaining why to some who just heard Doogie Howser synths.
His way of playing might not sound outwardly complex or groundbreaking, but in my opinion, it is. Everything about the homespun, demo-quality recordings reminds of me of how a Wu-Tang record sounds completely superior to anything else on MTV at the time, not due to its polish, but rather its grit. Mike’s voice has the perfect dichotomy of rasp and softness. He has a unique ability to sing almost indecipherable lyrics over such memorable melodies that the words could be an afterthought, not unlike Bon Iver.
I had the pleasure of meeting Mike when he came through Portland. He is shy and a lot of lyricists seem to guard their lyrics due to insecurity, but the lyrics are so good, too. I see Mk.gee as the new guitar gunslinger with his outlaw jacket as his cape. He’s single-handedly doing for guitar what The Mandalorian did for Star Wars.
The music, sparse and spooky, sounds at the same time strangely universal and possibly from the last century, but as Jerron Paxton notes in his album title, Things Done Changed. The major difference on Paxton’s fifth album (including his 2021 duet set with Dennis Lichtman) is a big one. He wrote the songs.
“It wasn’t a very difficult decision,” Paxton said. “I had always had a list of tunes to record of my own compositions. I had to get enough cogent tunes to be an album, because you can’t have something that’s all over the place.
“You can’t have overtures with your hoedowns.”
The material on Things Done Changed is evidence that Paxton is no novice songwriter. These are words infused with hard living, what he calls “a good album full of blues tunes.”
In the standout track, “So Much Weed,” Paxton weaves amusement and a little resentment that there are Black people still serving time for minor drug offenses in an era when legal marijuana stores are in many states.
“Things done changed from the ’90s until now/ Lend me your ear and I’ll sure tell you how/ We got so much weed/ And the law don’t care/ My poor uncles used to have to run and hide/ Now they sit on their front porch with pride.”
A telephone call with Paxton is an adventure. He doesn’t back down and enjoys putting you on the spot if you’re susceptible to that.
A lot of your work is in vintage music styles. Why not a more contemporary sound?
Jerron Paxton: I play a diverse array of styles. I started off playing the banjo and the fiddle. As a matter of fact, I’m one of the few professional Black five-string banjo players in the world.
You have roots in Los Angeles and your family is from Louisiana. How did each of those places affect your music?
Well, I play the music of that culture, so it affected it in totality. It’s like being Irish and playing Irish music.
Could you give me a sense of how you evolved as a musician?
I started off with the fiddle and moved to the banjo and the guitar and piano and things like that. It was just a natural evolution, getting interested in one and that leading to another and to another, growing up in the house that was full of the blues. That’s mostly what my family listened to. [My aunt] almost listened to strictly the blues, while my grandma was kind of eclectic like me, and listened to everything. She liked Hank Williams and all sorts of country music and jazz and everything like that.
… I grew up in, first of all, a family full of Black people. So I got exposed to all sorts of Black folk music and Black popular music of every generation. You were just as liable to hear [Mississippi] John Hurt and Son House and Bukka White in my house as to hear Marvin Gaye, Michael Jackson, and Sam Cooke. If you heard bluegrass, that was mostly me. I was the one blasting Flatt & Scruggs and people like that.
You didn’t grow up in Louisiana, yet your music seems to be tied to music from the South.
My grandparents grew up there. My family migrated to Los Angeles with the death of Emmett Till and they brought their culture with them. But that doesn’t say much, because the majority of the culture in South Central [Los Angeles] is from Louisiana, so it’s not like we went someplace completely foreign. We went someplace where we were surrounded by people who were from where we were from.
I love the song “So Much Weed.” It’s a funny song about a serious thing, that there are many Black people in prison for marijuana convictions on charges that are now legal. Do people laugh when you play it?
I don’t play it live. Well, I don’t play it on stage. I usually play it in small gatherings for close friends.
Would you tell me more about your grandmother and how she influenced your music?
She was a fun, loving lady from northwestern Louisiana. My mother had to work, so I spent most of my time with [my grandmother] and grew up gardening and fishing, and getting the culture that you get when you’re raised in the house with your grandmother. Her mother was across the street. So I had four generations of family on one street.
So some of the songs on Things Done Changed were written some time ago. Why sit on them?
Some of the tunes were kind of personal and I just sort of kept them for myself and my friends. Other ones I had been singing on stage for a little while and said, “Maybe I should record this song first chance I get.” And other ones I had been singing since I was little, since my grandma helped find some words to them. So it’s all kinds of processes. Some of them take a lot of labor.
Do you mostly like to work alone live, or do you like to mix it up with other musicians sometimes?
It depends on the context. If I’m being hired as a soloist, that’s what you do, and that seems to be the most in demand. There’s not too many people who can go on the stage by themselves and hold the audience for 45 or 90 minutes or two hours with just the instrument. So people tend to hire me for that and there’s a lot of solo material unexplored because of that. But I play jazz music, so that’s a collective art. I play country music, which is also a collective art. I play blues music, which is a collective art. So you know, they’re all collective, but the solo is what people ask for. It travels easy.
So how would you like your career to develop? Do you have a plan?
I’d like to be filthy rich, just grotesquely rich and have a mansion with a lake. [Laughs] … But to be honest, I’m kind of enjoying building what I have, and I haven’t really seen any end to it. That might be a good thing. It just seems to be getting better. So I don’t see a need to worry about the end as much as how to make the best parts of what’s happening now last longer.
What kind of rooms are you working? Are you doing clubs for the most part?
I play festivals and basically any place that’ll have it, theaters and places like that. Any place that wants good music, I try to be there to supply.
We’re starting with the end in our conversation with Kasey Anderson. On Basic Folk we’ve covered a lot of firsts: debut albums, origin stories, and the beginnings. Ever since I have known Kasey, his social media bio has been, “Gradually retiring songwriter.” I’m always teasing him about “What does that mean? When are you going to retire?” Officially, this latest album, To the Places We Lived, is his “last album.” I want to put that in very heavy quotes, because I hate to imagine a world where a great songwriter friend of mine is not making records. I think his insistence on this album as the last one has more to do with saying goodbye to parts of the music industry that he wants to release and ways of being in the world that he doesn’t want to engage with anymore. What do we need to let go of? What do we need to release? That’s the place where this album begins.
In our conversation, we talk about Kasey’s whole songwriting career and the moment where he went surprise viral for one of his political songs, “The Dangerous Ones.” We talk about his time being incarcerated and what that taught him about himself, what it taught him about the world, what it taught him about white supremacy. We talk about his family. We talk about his sobriety and his work in helping others get clean and stay clean, and what staying clean means in a holistic and gentle sense.
The songs on this album are mournful, literate, and very, very fun. My favorite is “Back to Nashville;” it’s a rock and blues song. Kasey is the type of artist who can write a really contemplative song about self reflection or grief or loss, and then a blues rocker that makes you want to shake your ass the next second.
Artist:Mark Stoffel Hometown: Murphysboro, Illinois Latest Album:True Tones Personal Nicknames (or rejected band names): Dr. Pretzel and recently The Mandolinator
What was the first moment that you knew you wanted to be a musician?
Before I picked up the mandolin, I played the piano, inspired by my mom who was an accomplished classical player. When I was around ten years of age, my parents switched piano teachers and the new one taught me something completely new: blues, boogie, and ragtime. I did appreciate the classical stuff, but the boogie stuff got me really excited. Not too long after that I performed in school – I kicked it off with a fast boogie-woogie piece, then I played a solo on harmonica (probably not the greatest!) while continuing the piano rhythm with my left hand. The audience went nuts and I that’s the first time I felt that my calling was to be a musician!
What has been the best advice you’ve received in your career so far?
Much later in my career I was given a book by Nate Lee, amazing fiddler and mandolinist. The book is entitled Effortless Mastery, penned by a jazz pianist named Kenny Werner. I started reading and from the get-go I was mesmerized. It’s all about embracing yourself – your ideas, your expression, your every musical moment. Do not ever worry about what other people might think of your playing and don’t always compare yourself with others. I’ll never be a Chris Thile, because only Chris Thile can be Chris Thile. I am Mark Stoffel. It’s as easy as that. Kenny Werner writes it in a way that totally spoke to me and it really – to this day – helps me every day. When I compose I no longer dismiss any ideas, when I practice, perform or record, I try to be myself and stay true to it. That was the best advice I received in my career so far.
Genre is dead (long live genre!), but how would you describe the genres and styles your music inhabits?
We’re all just a product what we’ve been exposed to. I grew up listening to lots of classical music. Then my dad, in the ’70s, got into rock, soul, and disco music and he bought tons of records and spun them all the time. Then I got bluegrass, first the more contemporary stuff – which at the time was Tony Rice, New Grass Revival, the Seldom Scene – then I gradually worked myself backwards in time to gain an appreciation for first generation bluegrass.
I think all of that is what informed what I do today. Genres are worthless to me. There are only two categories: Good music and bad music. As long as it has good drive, good melody, compelling lyrics, and a soul, it’s good. I love AC/DC as much as Flatt & Scruggs.
If you didn’t work in music, what would you do instead?
I’d be a baker and make original Bavarian pretzels for my fellow Americans.
What would a perfect day as an artist and creator look like to you?
Get up in the morning, have a cup of coffee, grab my mandolin, and play whatever comes to my mind, most likely come up with some new riff or melody. That will set the tone for everything else that happens that day, and all will be good.
As someone who gets pigeonholed as a blues guitarist, I’ve publicly reckoned with what I feel is an othering of blues as no longer really art, but instead what might be seen as a wax museum-ification of a formerly revolutionary genre. Too many established musicians and fans alike don’t want blues to evolve, but to instead be preserved in amber. Yet, its sibling folk music has not only never entirely fallen out of fashion, it has evolved and even prospered specifically because its brightest figures have refused to let tradition and academic codification stagnate the genre. Whether you’re talking about Bob Dylan going electric or Bon Iver collaborating with hip-hop superstars, folk musicians understand that cross pollination and new ideas are vital to growth. To my ears, Yasmin Williams is a proud continuation of that tradition of evolving folk.
To listen to the music of Yasmin Williams is to listen to the thrill of musical mutation in action, to hear and feel playing that is in constant communication, not only with itself, but with myriad styles and personalities. Given how adventurous and playful Williams’ music is, it’s not too surprising that her gateway to music was in fact a video game, specifically Guitar Hero 2.
In a review of Williams’ breakout 2021 album Urban Driftwood for taste-making music site Pitchfork, writer Sam Sodomsky connected Williams’ percussive, tap-heavy fingerpicking style to the mechanics of that game, as well as folk guitar legend John Fahey. Rhythmic intensity and love for the thrill of performance are the unifying elements of Williams’ otherwise impossible-to-pin-down style; this isn’t folk as a study or stuffy examination of tradition, it’s folk as expression at its most pure, music for entertainment, communication, and friendly competition all at once.
Williams’ latest batch of singles from her just-released album, Acadia, impeccably illustrates this eclectic and freewheeling approach to folk. “Hummingbird” is a dazzling collaboration with banjo player Allison de Groot and fiddle phenom Tatiana Hargreaves that recalls Richard Thompson’s lush, melodic picking but marries it to the breakneck intensity of traditional bluegrass.
On the other end of the folk spectrum, “Virga” finds Williams teaming up with Darlingside for a gorgeous and stately slice of indie folk that would fit right in with the likes of Sufjan Stevens and Bibio. Somewhere in the middle is “Dawning,” a bluesy folk number that features Williams dueting on guitar with Aoife O’Donovan of Crooked Still fame, who also provides enchanting, wordless vocals that give the song an almost ambient quality, as if Sigur Rós moved to Appalachia.
Even on songs that are more traditional, Williams playfully inserts pop and experimental elements. Take “Sunshowers,” which opens Urban Driftwood with beautiful fingerpicking that in turn gives way to a simple yet addictive bass-like hook that wouldn’t be out of place on a Post Malone single. Or, consider the album’s title track, which features djembe playing by Amadou Kouaye and adds an almost IDM (Intelligent Dance Music) quality to the song. Or, “Nova to Ba,” a collaboration with Argentine musician Dobrotto that effortlessly transitions from cinematic grandeur to relaxing ambient textures.
As a musician, I can’t help but be entranced by the marvelous skill and tone on display in Williams’ music. But more importantly, as a listener, I’m struck by the immediacy and tunefulness of the songs. Like Williams’ early inspiration, Guitar Hero 2, these songs are hard to put down once you start, and the difficulty never gets in the way of the fun.
“Juvenescence,” one of Williams’ most popular songs, is a handy representation of her skills – the impeccable picking, the daredevil runs that would impress even Eddie van Halen, the self-dueting in the finale. But it’s also immensely listenable and never a chore. Equally impressive is “Swift Breeze,” where Williams utilizes her guitar as an organic drum machine, getting a booming kick drum sound out of the body and rim shot-like hits out of other components, all while arpeggiating like she just got off a tour as the lead guitarist for a Midwest emo outfit.
It might seem odd to bring up emo in a feature on a folk musician, but there is a considerable amount of drama and theatricality in Williams’ music, even though most of it is instrumental. “Adrift,” in particular, has just as many emotional pivots and anthemic hooks as a Panic! At The Disco song. Here, the guitar comes in first, then the strings, but the swaggering hooks and melancholic valleys are there. It’s not hard to reimagine “Restless Heart,” from Williams’ debut album, Unwind, as an emo anthem either; it has a killer riff to kick things off followed by a pick slide and some heavy ringing chords. Even the title sounds like something the Get Up Kids would have used. If Dashboard Confessional was ever looking for their own Tim Reynolds to do an acoustic tour with, all I’m saying is Williams’ name should be high up on the list.
Every genre should be so fortunate as to have an artist like Williams, a performer who challenges herself without losing sight of what makes music a pleasure to listen to. A musician who commits to pushing the boundaries of the genre they call home, rather than maintaining a status quo. No genre should be inflexible and we need more musicians like Williams – period – who push themselves musically just as much as they do technically.
No one on earth plays the guitar like Yasmin Williams. When the BGS team was first introduced to her music – back a few years now, in 2017 or 2018, during our annual programming for our Shout & Shine diversity showcase – it was an objectively jaw-dropping discovery. We’ve covered many singular musicians, instrumentalists, and guitarists over the years on our site, but here was something completely and totally brand new. Then, in 2021, she wowed our BGS audience with her Shout & Shine livestream performance. From our staff to our followers, we were all hooked.
Immediately upon hearing Williams’ ethereal, otherworldly, and effortlessly charming guitar-centered compositions, it’s natural, reflexive even, to imagine how listeners may have first reacted to encountering Sister Rosetta Tharpe’s earth-stopping rock and roll, or Elizabeth Cotten’s unassuming backwards-and-upside-down guitar genius, or Jimi Hendrix’s showy shredding behind his head. There’s a jolt of electricity, a child-like wonder, and proper awe that each result from even the slightest encounter with Williams’ talents.
But, like those legends before her, this is not merely toxically masculine, performative, over-the-top “guitar culture” music. You can tell, from the first breath of tone from her instruments, that Williams is not now nor has ever been the guitarist trying to impress or outdo all of the AC/DC or Led Zeppelin rehearsers plucking through “Stairway to Heaven” at the local Guitar Center.
No, Williams’ approach to the instrument is totally brand new, too – and a remarkable breath of fresh air in a scene that is often derivative, competitive, exclusive, and rife with “Um, actually…” Instead of focusing her ambitions or goals entirely on the insular, inward-facing guitar world, Williams has demonstrated over two impeccable, critically-acclaimed albums – 2021’s Urban Driftwood and her first Nonesuch project, Acadia (out October 4) – that her community is far broader, richer, and truly incandescent.
Acadia builds on the rich and resplendent universe Williams built for Urban Driftwood – and has been cultivating for years, since her full length debut in 2018, Unwind. With a foundation centered on fingerstyle acoustic guitar with plenty of blues, bluegrass, flatpicking, and Americana infusions, Williams approaches the instrument as if a just-invented, novel machine; pedagogy, tradition, and technique are all present, but only ever in service of the melodies themselves – never as exercises in “correctness” or propriety. She’ll play with the guitar in her lap, tapping with both hands on the surface of the strings and fretboard. She’ll affix a kalimba to the face of the instrument and play both simultaneously. She quite literally turns her six-string (and her harp guitars, banjos, and more) on their ears, throwing all expectations and convention out the window.
There’s showmanship evident herein, of course, and a tinge of acrobatics, but these are merely knock-on effects and not the entire point. Instead, it seems Williams’ intention is to follow each and every tendril and tributary of her musical ideas to their natural conclusions, raising no barriers to herself in the process. Not even the barrier of the guitar itself. What even is a guitar, if you approach it from a unique perspective or through a fresh lens each time you pick it up? Williams shows us this common, everyday, century-spanning instrument can always find new sounds and styles.
Again, in contrast with “norms” in the guitar scene, Acadia is a testament to Williams’ community, as well. Her albums as yet never feel like guitar vanity projects, as the picker decidedly brings in so many facets of her musical and creative community to her music making. In just the first three singles from Acadia she taps an impressive array of featured artists, from Aoife O’Donovan to Darlingside to Allison de Groot & Tatiana Hargreaves. On prior releases, she’s recorded with the legendary Tommy Emmanuel, Taryn Wood, Dobrotto, and many more. Her approach to the instrument is singular, but it’s never solitary. Where other guitarists might prefer to leverage the instrument and their virtuosity to center themselves, Williams seems determined to do the opposite. The results are, as always, stunning.
Fingerstyle acoustic guitar is engaging and lovely music to begin with, but given her particular touch, her compositional voice, and her community collaborations, Yasmin Williams is showing roots music fans everywhere that even our most familiar instruments can be wellsprings of originality, inspiration, and joy. Acadia is a masterwork, and a perfect album to spotlight as we name Yasmin Williams our Artist of the Month. Enjoy our Essentials Playlist below to kick off the month and read our exclusive interview feature here. And, read an excellent op-ed on Williams written by buzzworthy viral guitarist and improviser Jackie Venson here. Plus, we’ll be dipping back into the BGS archives for all things Yasmin throughout October.
It all began way back, nearly seventy years ago in Memphis, Tennessee, when an almost unremarkable thing happened: A record store opened its doors.
That a record store might exist in the home of the blues in 1957 was itself no remarkable thing. But this store, Satellite Records, was quite literally a sister operation to the recording studio next door. Satellite’s owner, Estelle Axton, was the older sister of the studio’s founder, Jim Stewart.
Stewart was a fiddler with a passion for country music. Long before the dominance of indie labels, Stewart had the idea to start his own studio and label, to get his music out to the masses. As luck would have it, his original country songs were… just fine. Nothing groundbreaking. But his work sparked the imagination of a young musician named David Porter, who strode into the studio one day and asked if he could lay down some tracks.
Long story short, Porter recruited some other artists who became a band known as Booker T. and the M.G.s – eventually the studio’s de facto house band. Suddenly, the label – named STAX as a combination of Jim and Estelle’s last names – was off to the races.
Now, a three-part docuseries from HBO titled STAX: Soulville USA is available for streaming on MAX. The series premiered at South by Southwest earlier this year and earned two Emmy Award nominations (Outstanding Documentary or Nonfiction Series and Outstanding Sound Mixing for a Nonfiction Program). While the series did not prevail in those categories, it is a powerful, thorough, emotional telling of the relationship between music, its makers, and the world in which they live.
The series’ director – Peabody, Emmy, and NAACP award-winner Jamila Wignot – strung together an incredible array of rare and never-before-shared footage of the rise and fall (and rise again) of STAX Records between 1961-1975. But footage isn’t just from inside the studio walls. We see musicians on their first trips to Europe, relaxing in the pool at the Lorraine Hotel – a frequent STAX hangout before it became the scene of Martin Luther King, Jr.’s assassination. There is footage from civil rights protests and speeches and moments of great grief and outrage. There are contemporary interviews with the musicians and staff of STAX and Satellite Records, including Axton and Stewart.
And always, at the heart of it all, there’s the music.
In a For Your Consideration panel also available on MAX, Mignot admitted that, when she was approached to direct the series, she was “really just into it for the music.”
“I thought it was going to be this great-big, beautiful music story,” she adds. “As I started to do more research, and particularly looking into the work that [STAX biographer] Rob Bowman had done, I understood that it was a much bigger story that touched on social issues, history, and [it] really was this beautiful story of these folks who were, I think, led by intuition and desire, and weren’t necessarily trying to do more than the things that they loved. But they were very responsive to the world that was around them.”
Of course, outside the walls of STAX studio and Satellite records, Black people were subject to the cultural and legal realities of living in the Jim Crow South.
“[Jim Crow] was too strong a system to tear down,” bandleader Booker T. notes. “In Memphis, you had to keep your mouth shut and hope for the best. Or fight.”
While that was the rule of the road outside, inside STAX studio, Booker T.’s band had two Black members and two white. Together, they developed an approach to Southern soul music that would become one of the most influential sounds of the 20th Century.
Granted, as the civil rights movement went through its various waves in Memphis and beyond, and STAX players marched on picket lines without their white bandmates beside them, this complicated interpersonal relationships in the studio. But the music continued to compel everyone forward. As a result, music fans got to find solace in some of the greatest roots recordings ever made.
The docuseries’ executive producer Michele Smith commented on the artists’ legacies in a recent phone conversation.
“Those artists were just teenagers who had a love for the music,” she says. “[They] just wanted to be heard. What they did not know at that time was they were forging a path to history. They were working, they did know that what they were doing was technically illegal in the Jim Crow South. … They were young people who just wanted to make music. And they did a whole lot more than that. Their music, to this day, will … outlive all of us. It’s globally renowned and it’s some of the best R&B soul music out there, sampled by young people today.”
Being able to watch this music get made is certainly one major draw of the series. Isaac Hayes and the Bar-Kays developing the “Theme from Shaft”; Sam & Dave rolling out “Soul Man” for a live audience the first time; and Otis Redding onstage at the Monterey Pop Festival.
In interview clips, STAX alumni recall how out-of-place Redding and his band were – sober and polished in their well-pressed suits – among the mostly white hippie, dropped-out crowd. Recognizing the one thread that connected him with his seemingly polar-opposite audience, Redding started his set by asking, “This is the love crowd, right? We all love each other, don’t we?” The crowd roared, so he closed his eyes and lit into “I’ve Been Loving You Too Long” with a passion and emotional clarity that was absolutely intoxicating.
“Otis Redding hit the stage,” recalled trumpet player Wayne Jackson. “All those hippies got quiet. They ain’t seen anything like us.”
Though that was the truth, it often was in those days of STAX artists making the rounds with their groundbreaking sound. But, certainly, nobody present for any of it – no matter if STAX was on its way up or its way down – would ever forget the way the music turned their soul.
Our weekly premiere round-up kicks off this fine Friday with a new video from singer-songwriter Kelley Mickwee from her upcoming release; it’s the title track and her favorite song from her upcoming album, “Everything Beautiful.”
We continue with some bluegrassy old-time from duo Golden Shoals, showcasing “Milwaukee Blues,” a staple on their set lists and at their live performances. And, fellow bluegrass artist and songwriter Mason Via brings us his brand new single co-written with Charlie Chamberlain entitled, “Falling.”
To wrap up the week in premieres, don’t miss two new BGS-produced video sessions that hit the site this week. First, the latest in our Yamaha Sessions featuring shredder Trey Hensley, followed up by a bonus DelFest Session from Mountain Grass Unit celebrating their new EP, which dropped today.
It’s all right here on BGS and frankly, You Gotta Hear This!
Kelley Mickwee, “Everything Beautiful”
Artist:Kelley Mickwee Hometown: Austin, Texas Song: “Everything Beautiful” Album:Everything Beautiful Release Date: September 27, 2024 Label: Kelley Mickwee Music
In Their Words: “My favorite track on the record. A love song, which are rare and hard for me to write. This one started as a poem, sitting on my back porch one late afternoon as the dragonflies swarmed the yard and the hummingbirds fought over the feeder. I was all of a sudden just overcome with such deep love in my heart. Sent some words to my dear friend, Seth Walker, and he put this beautiful melody to it before I even woke up. It’s the first song we have written together of what I hope is many more to come.” – Kelley Mickwee
Golden Shoals, “Milwaukee Blues”
Artist:Golden Shoals Hometown: Nashville, Tennessee and Vancouver, British Columbia, Canada Song: “Milwaukee Blues” Release Date: September 27, 2024
In Their Words: “‘Milwaukee Blues’ has been a staple of our live show for years. It’s got a fun, silly vibe, but it’s about the very real perils of hoboing in the 1920s. That smiling on the outside/crying on the inside dichotomy is one of the most fascinating things about bluegrass and old-time music. Though we focus more on our original songs, our early tours were always based around fiddler’s conventions – Mt. Airy, Galax, Clifftop, etc. Playing old fiddle tunes and songs is how we started to forge our own sound and how we met our dearest musical pals. We’ve released collaborative old-time albums before (Milkers and Hollers and Tune Hash), but this is our first time stripping it down to the duo. We usually do one or two of these tunes at each show and we wanted to get them down for posterity, and for the old-time fans! Tracks will continue to trickle out over the next year, culminating in a full 14-track album.” – Mark Kilianski
Mason Via, “Falling”
Artist:Mason Via Hometown: Nashville, Tennessee Song: “Falling” Album:Mason Via Release Date: September 20, 2024 (single) Label: Mountain Fever Records
In Their Words: “I co-wrote this song with Charlie Chamberlain, who’s known for his work on several Songs From The Road Band albums. We initially crafted this track as a companion piece to ‘Melt in the Sun,’ another song on the upcoming record. Originally, we intended for it to be recorded with my psychedelic electric side project as a rock and roll party anthem. It wasn’t planned for this bluegrass album, but after bassist and dobro player Jeff Partin singled it out as his favorite from the extensive list of songs I shared with him and the producer, I decided to include it at the last minute. I’m glad we included it because it blends that distinctive Mountain Heart newgrass drive with lyrics that are perfect for getting people moving.” – Mason Via
Track Credits: Written by Mason Via & Charlie Chamberlain. Mason Via – Lead vocals, guitar Aaron Ramsey – Mandolin Jason Davis – Banjo Jim Van Cleve – Fiddle Jeff Partin – Bass, Dobro Kyser George – Guitar Brooks Forsyth – Baritone harmony Nick Goad – Tenor harmony
Yamaha Sessions: Trey Hensley, “Can’t Outrun the Blues”
Our Yamaha Sessions continue, highlighting the top-notch Yamaha FG series of acoustic guitars and the killer musicians who utilize them. This time, we’re back with guitarist, singer-songwriter, GRAMMY nominee, and reigning IBMA Guitar Player of the Year Trey Hensley. For his second session in the series, he performs a growling original, “Can’t Outrun the Blues,” that highlights the grit and attack of his custom Yamaha FG9 R, resonant and bold in open E.
Hensley’s techniques are bluegrass through and through, with clarity and athleticism to his flatpicking that stand out even among his incredibly talented contemporaries. The ‘grassy skeletal structure behind his approach to the instrument is merely a springboard into other textures and styles. Here, in a modal and bluesy number, you can certainly hear the influence rock and roll, down home and contemporary blues, Southern rock, and country chicken pickin’ have on Hensley’s own writing and composition.
DelFest Sessions: Mountain Grass Unit, “Lonesome Dove”
For a special bonus edition of our DelFest Sessions from earlier this year, we return to Cumberland, Maryland and the banks of the Potomac River for an encore performance by bluegrass four-piece, Mountain Grass Unit. On September 20, the group will release a brand new EP, Runnin’ From Trouble, which features this original number, “Lonesome Dove,” as the lead track. In fact, at the time of the session’s taping, the band had just recorded the song a week prior.
“We had an amazing time at the riverside DelFest Session performing our new song, ‘Lonesome Dove,'” said mandolinist Drury Anderson via email. “Watching people float down the river while we recorded made the experience even more special. It was an honor to be part of such a unique series!”
Though she downplays notions of fame and exposure, vocalist, songwriter, and bandleader Shemekia Copeland qualifies as a genuine star.
Among 21st century blues artists, she’s right there with Christone “Kingfish” Ingram, Gary Clark Jr., Robert Cray, and Eric Gales as performers whose audience outreach and cache extend far beyond the restrictive circle of specialty radio shows and festivals, where far too many fine performers in that genre are confined. From profiles in The Washington Post, Chicago Tribune, New York Times, Philadelphia Inquirer, CNN, and NPR to coverage in such journals as Rolling Stone and No Depression, Copeland’s ascendency as a performer, her maturation, and her poignant and important vocal and compositional force are consistent and impressive.
It’s accurate, if a bit cliched, to say Copeland was born to sing the blues. The daughter of the legendary Texas shuffle blues great Johnny Copeland, she grew up in Harlem and was accompanying her father as an eight-year-old on the stage of the famed Cotton Club in New York. A decade later she signed with Alligator Records and began a career that’s done nothing but soar since the release of her first album for the label, Turn Up The Heat, in 1978.
Her two most recent LPs, 2018’s America’s Child and 2020’s Uncivil War have cemented her stature. America’s Child featured a rousing version of Ray Wylie Hubbard’s “Barefoot In Heaven,” the personalized romantic tune “Fell In Love With A Honky,” and a tough cover of “Nobody But You,” a tune immortalized decades before by her father. Uncivil War reflected a major happening in Copeland’s life – the birth of a son – and also included memorable numbers once again addressing contemporary issues. America’s Child won both the Blues Music and Living Blues Awards as Album of the Year. Uncivil War won the same honor from not only Living Blues, but DownBeat and MOJO magazines, too. Copeland’s earned multiple Blues Music honors and GRAMMY nominations to date.
Yet many, Copeland included, feel the best is yet to come. Evidence of that can be heard throughout the 12 songs on her newest Alligator LP, Blame It On Eve, which was released August 30. This latest effort again superbly combines social insight, humorous reflection, and tremendous musical numbers. The results are a dynamic presentation of the ideal combination of modern studio technology, distinctive personal commentary, plus the lyrical flair and expressiveness that’s characterized great blues since its inception.
Blame It On Eve, also recorded in Nashville, is her fourth project produced by Will Kimbrough and Copeland gives him high praises for his continuing contributions to her music.
“With Will it’s always magic and the ideal collaboration,” Copeland told BGS during a recent interview. “He really understands my music and how to get the best out of what I’m doing in the studio. No matter what I bring him, he finds a way to improve it, to make it better, and make it work. He’s really been a huge key to the success that I’ve had, and I also really love working in Nashville.”
Kimbrough utilized a host of outstanding special guests for the session. They include Alejandro Escovedo, Luther Dickinson, Jerry Douglas, DeShawn Hickman, Charlie Hunter, and Pascal Danae (of Paris-based band, Delgres).
While Copeland has never shied away from addressing social issues on her albums, she doesn’t like or embrace the notion she’s being “political.” Instead, she prefers the term “topical,” while freely acknowledging that she sees it as important to discuss a variety of subjects, topics and ideas in her music. “I don’t want to be labeled or pigeonholed in any fashion,” she says. “But at the same time, I’ve always felt that my music should speak to contemporary things, to the things that I see and experience. If you want to say that I do cover topical or current issues, that’s accurate. But I don’t see it being political so much as I see it being real, being willing to talk about things that are important to me as a woman, a blues musician and a Black artist.”
From that standpoint, the title track’s forthright dive into the issue of women’s reproductive rights is a prime example of Copeland’s willingness to express herself on thorny and controversial topics. Douglas brings his superb skills on Dobro to a song about Tee Tot Payne, the 20th century Black musician who tutored Hank Williams on the blues. “I was really glad to do that one,” Copeland adds. “There are too many people who don’t know that story or haven’t heard about Tee Tot Payne. If I can inform them about who he was and why’s he important, then I’ve done a service.”
Hickman’s stirring sacred steel contributions enrich “Tell The Devil,” while Copeland took on a special challenge with the song “Belle Sorciere,” singing the chorus in French with the tune’s melody supplied by Danae. “Hardly,” Copeland laughs when asked if she’s fluent in French. “I really tried to make sure that I had the correct words and sang them the right way. I’ve always wanted to do songs in other languages, and I really enjoyed doing that one but it wasn’t easy.”
The release also has its share of fun tunes, notably “Wine O’Clock” and rollicking strains of “Tough Mother.” Copeland also has a pair of excellent cover numbers. One is a heartfelt version of “Down on Bended Knee,” previously done by her father, and an equally compelling rendition of Stevie Wonder’s “Heaven Help Us All,” which serves as a fitting and dynamic closer to a marvelous LP.
Interestingly, when asked how much she enjoys her stature at or near the top of the blues world, Copeland discounts that contention. “In my mind, I’ve still got a long way to go in terms of how far and where I want to see my music go,” Copeland concludes. “I don’t think I’m at the stage of some of the blues rockers like Jon Bonamassa. I’m still aiming for higher places and peaks artistically. You should never be satisfied or settle for things, but keep pushing and striving for excellence. I learned that lesson early and that’s how I’ve continued my career and plan to keep on striving and pushing.”
Nashville audiences will get the chance to hear Copeland in multiple settings this September. She will be featured during AmericanaFest on September 17 at 3rd and Lindsley. The next day, her showcase at Eastside Bowl will air live on Wednesday afternoon, September 18, on WMOT-FM (89.5) Roots Radio. It will also be video streamed on NPR, filmed for NPR Live Sessions, and recorded for NPR’s World Café’s “Best Of AmericanaFest” feature to air later.
Photo Credit: Janet Mami Takayama
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