MIXTAPE: Anthony d’Amato’s Train Songs

While putting the finishing touches on my new record, At First There Was Nothing, I found myself living beside the tracks of the Durango & Silverton Narrow Gauge Railroad in southwestern Colorado. Widely considered one of the most scenic train trips on the continent, the jaw-dropping route stretches 45 miles through pristine wilderness, along impossibly narrow cliff ledges, and above roaring river rapids.

Though it was originally constructed in order to haul gold and silver ore from the otherwise inaccessible San Juan Mountains, these days it’s a tourist line beloved by sightseers, backpackers, and whitewater rafters. Even though the cargo has changed, the railroad is still powered by steam engines, just as it was 140 years ago when it first opened, and it’s hard not to fall in love with the sights and sounds and smells that go with it.

When it came time to make a video for the album’s lead single, “Long Haul,” I knew that I wanted to find a way to bring the railroad into it, and fortunately they were gracious enough to let us commandeer a caboose for the finale.

Returning to Durango for the project had me thinking about the strong connections between music and railroads. For as long as there have been trains, there have been train songs: some are joyful celebrations, others, mournful laments. A train whistle can mark a long-awaited arrival or a much-dreaded departure, the start of a new adventure or the end of the good old days. It’s hard to know where to begin when it comes to putting together a playlist of railroad songs, as trains have been written about from nearly every angle in nearly every genre, but here you’ll find some of my favorites, which I hope may inspire you to hit the rails yourself. — Anthony D’Amato

The Band – “Mystery Train”

A cornerstone of American rock and roll, “Mystery Train” has been performed and recorded by just about everyone over the years, but I chose to kick things off with The Band’s version. Musicians use the term “train beat” to refer to a certain kind of basic drum pattern, but Levon goes above and beyond here. There’s a relentlessness and a momentum to his groove that genuinely evokes the feeling of wheels rolling down the track, and it’s utterly mesmerizing.

Howlin’ Wolf – “Smokestack Lightnin’”

Eerie and hypnotic, “Smokestack Lightnin’” is an all-time blues classic. Howlin’ Wolf said the title was inspired by sitting in the country at night and watching sparks fly from the smokestack of passing trains. Close your eyes while you listen and it’s easy to see the red-hot embers dancing in the empty black sky.

The Kinks – “Last of the Steam-Powered Trains”

The through line from Howlin’ Wolf to The Kinks is pretty obvious when you listen to these songs back to back.

The Staple Singers – “This Train”

There are a whole host of versions of this song to choose from, but I’ve always loved The Staple Singers’ take on it, which blurs the lines between gospel and blues. The train is a potent symbol not just in 20th century music and art and literature, but in religious expression, as well, and this is a prime example.

Bruce Springsteen – “Land of Hope and Dreams”

Springsteen references a number of train songs (including “This Train”) within “Land of Hope and Dreams,” which was a live favorite for years before he recorded it on the Wrecking Ball album. I’ve always been drawn to the imagery in this tune, as well as the intricate way in which the words all fit together like puzzle pieces without a single wasted vowel or consonant. “Big wheels roll through fields where sunlight streams” is as clean a line as you could ever hope to write.

Elizabeth Cotten – “Freight Train”

Written when Cotten was still quite young, “Freight Train” is an enduring classic more than 100 years later, and her performance here is utterly timeless. Interestingly enough, the tune made its way to England in the 1950s, where it was covered by a skiffle group called The Quarrymen (which eventually evolved into The Beatles). Seems everyone cut their teeth on train songs.

Lead Belly – “Midnight Special”

The passing headlight of a train is a sign of freedom and salvation for a prisoner in this song, who lets the glow wash over him like baptismal waters in his penitentiary cell.

Ernest Stoneman – “Wreck of the Old 97”

Trainwrecks have been fertile ground for songwriters through the years, and who could blame them? Trainwrecks have it all: drama, heroism, danger, tragedy, sacrifice. If all we got out of this tune was Rhett Miller and his compatriots in the Old 97s, it’d still be worthy of inclusion here.

Woody Guthrie – “John Henry”

Railroads have produced their fair share of local and regional folk heroes over the years, but none as iconic as John Henry, who wins the battle of man versus machine but pays with his life. There’s a whole lot about capitalism and labor and race and technology all wrapped up in this song, which could be said of the railroads themselves, too.

Bob Dylan – “Slow Train”

There’s a simmering intensity to this song that stares you dead in the eye and refuses to blink. I don’t think it’s any coincidence that Dylan chose a train as the central metaphor in this scathing assessment of America.

Arlo Guthrie – “The City of New Orleans”

Steve Goodman’s “City of New Orleans” is another well-covered train song, but as far as I’m concerned, Arlo Guthrie has the definitive version. It’s a beautiful slice of life from the perspective of a traveler looking out the window at a changing country.

Justin Townes Earle – “Workin’ for the MTA”

It’s hard to write a modern train song that doesn’t sound like Woody Guthrie cosplay, but Justin Townes Earle did a brilliant job of updating the form on this tune, which is sung from the perspective of a New York City subway worker.

Amanda Shires – “When You Need a Train It Never Comes”

This one’s about a lack of trains, but I think it still qualifies. This was the first song of Amanda’s I ever heard, and I was instantly drawn to her unique perspective on what could otherwise be well-worn territory. Like the Justin Townes Earle tune, it’s a rare contemporary take that feels genuinely original.

Brad Miller – “Reader Railroad No 1702 2-8-0”

This might be considered cheating since it’s not technically a song, but over the years there have been a number of LPs released by and for railfans that consist entirely of field recordings of trains. Many have been relegated to attics and secondhand shops, but some were digitized and made the leap to streaming. I chose this recording from a 1972 album called Steel Rails Under Thundering Skys because I think it offers a great entry point to someone asking the perfectly reasonable question, “Why the hell would I want to listen to that?” The mix of steam trains, falling rain, and rolling thunder is incredibly soothing. Put it on and watch your blood pressure drop.


Photo Credit: Vivian Wang

LISTEN: Appalachian Road Show, “Only a Hobo” (Bob Dylan Cover)

Artist: Appalachian Road Show
Hometown: Nashville, Tennessee
Song: “Only a Hobo”
Album: Jubilation
Release Date: October 7, 2022
Label: Billy Blue Records

In Their Words: “‘Only a Hobo’ is a classic Bob Dylan song. It’s the kind of song that can fit in many different genres, musically speaking. We were fans of the song already, but when we heard Hazel Dickens’ version, we immediately put it on our ‘short list’ of songs to record. We feel like it is a great representation of what Bill Monroe called his ‘high lonesome sound.’ Appalachian Road Show’s version of the song comes equipped with capos on the 4th fret and a little yodeling.” — Barry Abernathy, Appalachian Road Show


Photo Credit: Erick Anderson

On a Dylan Tribute, The Cactus Blossoms Cover a ‘Nashville Skyline’ Classic

Minnesota’s very own The Cactus Blossoms have announced a new EP titled If Not For You (Bob Dylan Vol.1), a collection that can only be described as a sincere love letter to the music of the great folk music forefather.

“When we were finishing up our One Day album we were itching to get back in the studio and keep the creativity flowing,” says Jack Torrey, who formed the duo with his brother Page Burkum. “We had recorded a version of ‘Went to See The Gypsy’ a while back and we were thinking about doing an EP of other people’s songs, but then it just made sense to stick with all Dylan tunes. He’s written a million songs and he’s always been an inspiration for us. So many of Bob Dylan’s songs are filled with wonderful phrasing that doesn’t really lend itself to harmony singing, so we got together and started singing some of his songs to see which ones we could bend into our world.”

The four-song EP includes “Tell Me That It Isn’t True,” which first appeared on Dylan’s landmark 1969 record Nashville Skyline, and the boys from up north deliver an absolute gem. With reverb, pedal steel, and a muted Motown bass sound, the track feels like it was made 60 years ago. It has a similar glow to many of those old records we love best while still being clear and pristine. Set for a September 30 release, this new project serves as a friendly reminder that the classics are the classics for a reason. Enjoy the Cactus Blossoms’ rendition of “Tell Me That It Isn’t True” below.


Photo Credit: Jacob Blickenstaff

Hackensaw Boys Capture the Loneliness and Happiness of a Musician’s Life

Since 1999, Hackensaw Boys have been pioneering and pushing the boundaries of alt-country. Now with a dozen albums to their name, the group out of Charlottesville, Virginia, continues to do so with their new, self-titled and self-released effort.

Colored with hints of punk, country, bluegrass, folk and pop, the project contains some of the most raw and wide-ranging songs from guitarist David Sickmen’s extensive catalog, with arrangements from Caleb Powers (fiddle/banjo/mandolin), Chris Stevens (upright bass) and David’s son, Jonah (charismo). Throughout the 11 tracks, Sickmen ruminates on everything from how people hide their grief and project it onto others (“The Weights”) to long-ago breakups (“Old New Mexico”).

“Old New Mexico” is one of several tracks from the album that Sickmen penned over a decade ago but never had a home until now. With his older cuts sprinkled between songs written in the past year or two like “The Weights,” the album offers a comprehensive look at the evolution of Sickmen and his art before and after he was treated for vocal polyps in early 2016. The album has also provided him much needed clarity, particularly in reference to “Old New Mexico.”

“[This song] lightens my mind because it made me realize that breakups aren’t new to me. I’ve been writing about them for 20 years,” says Sickmen. “I’ve been falling in and out of things for a long time now, so going back and finally recording this was a bit of a pressure release because it helped me to understand that despite all of these changes I’m still alive, well and moving forward with purpose.”

The self-titled project is one that Sickmen is prouder of than any previous album from the group, which was at one time a launching point for songwriters Pokey LaFarge and John R. Miller. However, despite Sickmen’s confidence, he stresses now more than ever about how he’ll get his work noticed in an era of overwhelmingly accessible streaming options.

BGS: I can see how streaming can be a double-edged sword. It helps to get your music out there, but at the same time it does the same for everyone else, too. It can be easy for your work to get lost in the shuffle of endless options.

Sickmen: It’s funny because as an artist I hate Spotify, but as a music listener I love Spotify. I now have more music than I can even fathom at my fingertips, but like you said there’s so much to consume that it’s easy for your work to get buried and forgotten. It can be discouraging, especially with how much money it costs to record and promote an album nowadays and releasing it independently like we are with this one.

I feel like the same can be said for social media. It’s critical to promoting yourself as an artist (if you’re able to correctly work the algorithms), but it can also be a very toxic, depressing and distracting space.

I’ve never been able to figure out the algorithms. Man. To be honest, I’m terrible at using Instagram and Facebook. I can’t help but post political stuff in support of things like reproductive rights and Black Lives Matter that I’m sure turn some people off. I care about that stuff just as much as I care about the band. I feel like as an artist it’s our duty to speak up about the ills of the world to hopefully help push the needle toward positive change.

Early in the pandemic I took a break from social media for a couple months and it was so refreshing. I found myself happier, less stressed out and more invested in the moment. The last thing I want is to be on my deathbed thinking, “Jesus, I spent 55,000 hours of my life on social media?!”  It’s insane how much of a distraction it can all be while at the same time being essential to promoting a business or brand in our modern world. It’s a necessary evil in that regard.

What led to y’all opting to self-release this collection of songs?

Our last few albums have been on Free Dirt Records, but when I brought this project to them they told me their release slate was already full for the year. As a result I ended up hiring them a la carte out of my own pocket to help with distribution and publicity. I’m literally in debt to this record, which is fine, but it just goes to show how much independent artists put on the line for a return that’s far from guaranteed. All those worries aside, this album feels like a more full-scale Hackensaw Boys project than anything we’ve done prior.

Turning to the songs now, one of my favorites on the record is “Strangers.” I love the line “Go on and take a chance on a stranger / understand our lives are all in danger.” I feel like it succinctly captures the essence of how we’re all going through our own struggles and owe one another more empathy and less animosity. Is that what you were aiming to channel with the song?

You’re spot on. The band was rehearsing one day and that line you mentioned just popped into my head. For a long time after that, the lyric just sat in my list of ideas. I knew what I wanted the song to say but was having a tough time figuring out how to say it. Then it finally came to me the night before going to record it. What I ended up with is a story about not being afraid of those perceived as different from you, because in reality we’re all human and have much more in common than we don’t.

Another song on the record that ties into those themes is your cover of Bob Dylan’s “All I Really Want to Do.” I understand that it made its way onto the album after you started jamming on the song one day with your son Jonah. What’s it been like having him become a part of your musical family?

It’s an incredible feeling. He was always around my music growing up, but he didn’t start playing himself until he got to college at Belmont University in Nashville. Despite getting a late start he’s caught on to things very fast and will soon be a better guitarist than me. He brings an immense amount of talent to the group on charismo and anything else he touches and has a great feel for the songs. At the same time he’s also my firstborn son, so getting to share time and make memories with him on the road when most touring musicians are spending extended time away from their loved ones is something I’ve been cherishing and don’t take for granted.

Is that what you’re singing about in “Only on The Brightside”?

It is. That song is my favorite on the album. It really captures the relationship between loneliness and happiness while out on the road. You can be happy with what you’re doing making music while also longing for the loved ones you’re away from. It’s a very melancholy tale, which is a writing style that I’ve always been drawn to, only now I’m a little less lonely on the road with Jonah around.


Photo Credit: Cloud Bobby

BGS 5+5: Blue Dogs

Artist: Blue Dogs
Hometown: Florence, South Carolina
Latest Album: Big Dreamers
Rejected Band Names: Fuji Apparatus (rejected but tolerated)

Answers provided by Bobby Houck and Hank Futch Jr.

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

I’ve always said if I could have dinner with anyone living or dead, it would be Lowell George of Little Feat. I imagine us having an eight-hour dinner with cocktails, red wine, and for some reason I think of him wanting some good Italian food, and it would go into the night around the table with guitars, cigarettes, and yadda yadda. — Bobby

I love to cook and would have loved to have Elvis Presley over for dinner and serve him my smoked dry rubbed baby back ribs, brisket baked beans, collard greens and slaw and for dessert, we’d go to the Sun Records Cafe for a grilled peanut butter and banana sandwich. Elvis would likely order his with bacon. — Hank

What has been the best advice you’ve received in your career so far?

The best advice that I received came from Poppa Futch. He would always say “Remember who you are” and “Take it to ‘em, son!” Meaning, you are a Futch and a Christian and when you are performing, give it all you have. Stand up in the saddle and lean forward. — Hank

Don’t be an asshole. Be nice to everyone, if you can help it, because word gets around. But also, from David Lowery (of Cracker, producer of our Letters from Round O cd): every band has one guy in there that drives and pushes things a little bit and is labeled as the asshole. Don’t beat yourself up about it. — Bobby

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

Around the time I met my wife, in 2006, the band had just completed about 10 years of full-time touring, writing, etc., and we were gearing it down. And I am pretty sure I had PTSD or something similar from those years. I really needed a mental and physical break. So in letting all that go, I really let my songwriting get away from me. I tried a couple of years later to write with some folks in Nashville, but it did not work well. And then I got married, and we started having children, and the idea I was harboring now was that I needed to write some things about these new experiences. But it just wasn’t happening. So within a few years, I had developed a full-blown writer’s block. But I kept thinking about it, and because I wasn’t writing, I was thinking about it even more, about how I wasn’t writing, and occasionally I would dream a song and let it slip away. So in a weird way, it became an obsession, but I wasn’t producing.

So finally around 2015, I made an appointment with Radney Foster, who was a mentor and with whom I’d had a successful and easy experience 10 years earlier. And I went in and said, “I’ve got to write a song about my wife or for my wife, I’ve somehow got to get some of my feelings about her and my life now into a song or she’s going to have to listen to all of these other songs about other girls for the rest of her life…and this will not be good.” And it was his weekly write with Jay Clementi, a wonderful human whose empathy and sweetness really helped to make it happen – and sure enough, the block started melting away bit by bit and we wrote “That’s How I Knew.” I was reminded that I could take thoughts and help shape them into pieces that would fit together as a song, and it was such a relief. I credit these two professionals who happen to be great Americans with helping me out of that hole. And the song made its way on our new record and I am so proud of what Sadler Vaden helped us do with it. — Bobby

I started writing a song three years ago about celebrating family. It went through many revisions over the three-year period and didn’t actually finish writing it until we were in the studio recording it. The song is called “Big Dreamers,” the title of our new record. — Hank

Which artist has influenced you the most…and how?

While I’ve been a huge fan of Ricky Skaggs since he played with JD Crowe & the New South, the artist that influenced me the most was my dad, Hank Futch, Sr. (aka Poppa Futch). My brother, Hal Futch, and I started playing bluegrass when we were around 12 years old and it was Poppa Futch that inspired us to play. Some of my earliest memories are of him playing bluegrass, gospel and classic country songs at parties with his buddy and boss Mag Greenthaler. The two of them could entertain a crowd like I still have never seen, telling stories that seemed unbelievable though we would learn later that most of the stories were true. He handed down so many great songs, wrote a few and taught us to harmonize. He would take us to Lavonia, Georgia, in the ’70s where we would watch all the great bluegrass pickers and bands such as Flatt & Scruggs, Doc and Merle Watson, JD Crowe & the New South, Jim & Jesse, The Lewis Family, etc. He loved to tell the story of coming home one day and hearing bluegrass music coming out of the basement only to walk down and see my brother and I, along with Will Morris on banjo, were jamming out “Foggy Mountain Breakdown” as fast as we could play it. Poppa passed away last year but my love of music undoubtedly came from him. — Hank

This is always a hard one to answer. I could go a lot of different directions. From the work ethic and band leadership of Ronnie Van Zant, to the cool and uniqueness of Lowell George or Dave Matthews, to the songwriting canon of Jackson Browne or James Taylor, to the picking and singing of Tony Rice. But I think perhaps the artist that I (and many others) have studied and learned from the most is the icon of the singer-songwriter, Bob Dylan. His writing process and intensity; his tendency and willingness to change things up; his devotion and dedication from an early age (hitchhiking to New York to meet Woody Guthrie and following his destiny to Greenwich Village) to the present (the never-ending tours and the albums which seem to come out annually or more). But the thing I glean most from him is the ingenious songcraft, which, more often than not, is marked by simple structures with remarkable lyrics and the perfectly unusual chord thrown in just to make sure you remember he’s trying to do it just a little differently than the expected. He set the bar high for everyone. I like to think I at least try to do something unique because of his example. So, my path as a singer-songwriter started with anyone like him who sat down with just a guitar and perhaps a harmonica, which is why I would also lump in the singer-songwriter genre as my most influential genre — from those named above and from Paul Simon, Richard Thompson, and Joni Mitchell to Steve Earle, Jay Farrar, and Ryan Adams. — Bobby

What’s your favorite memory from being on stage?

We’ve been lucky to play some great shows like opening in our hometown of Charleston for Widespread Panic at the Joe and Willie Nelson at the N. Charleston Coliseum. We backed up Bo Diddley in the late ’90s twice, serving as his band…now THAT was cool. And Wavefest ‘96 in Charleston always comes to mind, simply because of the lineup — headliner David Byrne, the only show that Son Volt and Wilco played together, plus Cracker, Cowboy Mouth, Ben Folds Five, Blue Mountain, and a bunch of others. We closed with a cover of Steely Dan’s “Bodhisattva” which, I must say, rocked the house. But perhaps the most memorable was one of the biggest crowds (25k+) we’ve ever faced, in April of ‘96 opening for Hootie in Columbia on the eve of their second album release. At that moment they were never bigger, and this was a free show on a Monday night. We were so fortunate to be asked, and of course we were scared shitless, but it was the single event that finally got us to take the leap and go for it full time ourselves as a band. So the excitement of that day was unforgettable. — Bobby

One of my favorite memories from being on stage may have to be the Blue Dogs 25th Anniversary when we had some of our favorite artists join us at the Charleston Music Hall. These artists include Hal and Poppa Futch, Hootie and the Blowfish, Edwin McCain, Radney Foster and many of our friends and local artists. Luckily, we continue to celebrate our Anniversary/Homecoming Show every year with different artists, so in a way some of my favorite memories may still be yet to come. — Hank

Photo Credit: Suz Film

MIXTAPE: David Newbould’s Songs for Sinking In / Digging Out

I found myself digging into my comfort music throughout ’20-’21. It felt like a hard time to be adventurous. These songs are from so many records I’ve spent so music time with, and which surely informed my new album, Power Up! (out June 10). It also features a few of the great folks we lost during this period. — David Newbould

Thin Lizzy – “Try a Little Harder”

I probably listened to more Thin Lizzy over the last two years than I did to any other artist. They have so many songs I wish I could just crawl up inside of and never come out. This song is at the top of the list. Phil Lynott just had everything to me. He wrote the life he lived. He somehow enhanced it but never sugarcoated it, and in the end it was all too real. This song feels like it could be one of the defining songs of the 1970s but it was an unreleased B-side. “When all those dark days came rolling in I didn’t know whether to stop or begin / To try a little harder…”

Joe Strummer & The Mescaleros – “Get Down Moses”

I love the rawness of this track, the gang vocals, the reggae telecaster, and the way Joe always sang with the passion of a thousand rock ‘n’ roll ambassadors rolled into one electric folksinger body. I wrote a song years ago called “One Track Heart,” based on a line I heard Pete Townsend say. Supposedly when he heard Joe Strummer died (of a heart defect), he said, “Well that makes sense, his heart was always too big.” I’ve come back to this excellent posthumous album over and over throughout the years, starting with this track. It always fills my heart and makes me miss him.

Gregg Allman – “These Days”

Gregg Allman’s voice will always be comfort food to me. I remember putting this on during one of the first days of lockdown setting in and feeling, “Somewhere, sometime, a different world existed, and maybe if I just keep listening to the music from it, it will exist once again.” I’m not sure about the second part yet, but it sure felt good listening to songs like this over and over again. A perfect version of an already perfect Jackson Browne song.

Bob Dylan – “Pressing On”

I’m not a religious person, but the performance of this song is powerful enough to make me believe in a different dimension. It’s one of Bob’s most impassioned studio vocals ever, and how to not love Jim Keltner and the incredible band and backup singers on this album? “Shake the dust off of your feet, don’t look back / Nothing now can hold you down, nothing that you lack.” To me there is no more defiant Bob Dylan than religious-era Bob Dylan. I see him standing on the hull of a ship, saying, “This is it, friends. Get on board with me or don’t. I really don’t care…but here’s why you should.” It took me years to get to this album because of all the critics I would read saying how bad it was. I’m pissed at every one of them for that and I’ve never listened to any of them ever again. How can people hold a job in which they are so wrong so much of the time?

Black Sabbath – “Wheels of Confusion”

This is one of the saddest and most soulful guitar lines to open a song ever. This band was all heart on record. Heart and drugs. Like Phil Lynott, they wrote the life they lived. Fortunately, they all made it out the other side. I feel that on all their records, particularly the original band. This was the first album of theirs I bought, when I was 14. It was so dark and groovy, and really spoke to me. Bill Ward’s drumming gets something close to funky at a certain point, while Ozzy sings Geezer Butler’s lyrics about being a 22-year-old multimillionaire prone to depression who was something close to homeless a couple of years prior. Hard to resist.

The Rolling Stones – “Ventilator Blues”

One of my favorite songs ever, off an album that just keeps sounding better and better with every decade. From the slide guitar opening riff, to Charlie… When I put on Rolling Stones vinyl through my old handed-down Celestion speakers and turn it up, Charlie’s drums do something physically to me. There is movement and life in those spaces that make everything groove and shake. And a snare that makes my eye twitch. Like so many of the greatest Stones songs, seemingly simple but deceptively complex in the layers, colors, and fluid relationships between all the instruments. Like jazz, but with four chords and in (usually) 4/4 time. I truly believe this specialized blend of simplicity and complexity is their secret weapon.

Patti Smith Group – “Ain’t It Strange”

Just another all-hands-on-deck tidal wave performance from a band truly locked in to what makes them great. Patti Smith has such a way with melody and cadence, and can belt the shit out of a lyric, too. Damn! Radio Ethiopia is the one for me. I love the humble raking guitar chords that open the song that hint at the thunder to follow. I also have a weakness for songs in A minor, the official key of the 1970s.

Bruce Springsteen – “Youngstown”

Bruce is one of the most empathetic songwriters ever. The amount of research he puts into some of his songs when he really swings for those fences — songs like “Youngstown,” “Nebraska,” “Highway Patrolman” — he does such a thorough job of inhabiting the character, I find it very moving and inspiring. I was stuck in this song for days and days, and finally stole some of the chords and melodies and out of it came the song “Peeler Park.” I couldn’t stop myself. I had to change a chord or two so that it wasn’t out-and-out theft. Sorry, Bruce.

Steve Earle – “Taneytown”

See above! God, I feel everything inside of this troubled boy in the song. It’s so fierce and gut wrenching, and just a masterclass in empathetic songwriting by one of the best at it. Brutal vocal delivery to match. Also it’s in A Minor.

James McMurtry – “Rachel’s Song”

See above again! Few people’s work can put an unsuspecting lump in my throat on a regular basis like James McMurtry. He gives you just enough detail, and yet it’s so much. This song makes my heart hurt for this person, this single mother trying to keep her life in order for the sake of her son. And then she pauses to fixate on the snowflakes dancing outside the window. I know where it’s going every time, but I still get a chill when it does. Another song that does that to me is “If I Were You” by Chris Knight. Every time, I shudder. The power of songs like these haunts me.

Jerry Jeff Walker – “Long Afternoons”

When my wife was pregnant with our son, we would walk through the park and I would listen to this song and think, “I want our life to end up like how this song feels.” There are so many beautiful lines, and the lazy and relaxed pace of the guitar and vocal is something Jerry Jeff really had figured out. Music like this has a way of making me nostalgic for a place I wasn’t even really a part of. But that’s the power of great music and art right there. Paul Siebel wrote this song. We lost both of them over the last 2 years.

Gary Stewart – “An Empty Glass”

The most vulnerable, honest, and painful country singer I’ve ever heard is Gary Stewart. His voice is not shy at all but has so much open vulnerability to it, and his songs match the instrument to a “T.” This song paints such a picture in my mind. End of night, blurry bottles, random people, helpless inability to stop drinking the emptiness away. Deep deep pain that started as early as the character can remember. Once again, the mark of a great record is to make you feel the life of the character in the song — from the instrumentation to the production, lyrics, and of course the performance of the singer. Gary Stewart was a master.

Nellen Dryden – “Tullahoma”

This song just feels like pure freedom to me. It was cut 100% live and just bounces up and down the open highway, singing in search of a new life that surely awaits. It’s so infectious, and the playing and Nellen’s vocal feel so effortless. I also love songs that do the thing where the verse and chorus are the same chord progression, but still completely different parts. It’s a hard trick to pull off! “Everyday People” is another great example of this. Great song here. Check out Nellen, y’all.

Pete Townshend – “Slit Skirts”

Pete has a gift of taking the truly uncomfortable and making it truly powerful, examining it in truly epic pieces of rock. The time changes and chord progressions here are from heaven. Yet he’s singing about people hitting middle age, dreaming of the clothes they once wore, of the feelings they could once stir up in their lover, and crystallizes it with a line like, “can’t pretend that getting old never hurts.” Ouch! It’s just so good, it’s always impossible for me not to feel what he’s feeling, no matter where you are in your own life. He’s an original. I have leaned on his music a lot over the years.

The Wailers – “It Hurts to Be Alone”

This is another song I return to again and again and again. When I first heard this, I was with someone in a very painful situation in a very painful room, and it felt like time suddenly stopped. When the song ended I asked if we could put it on repeat, and lo and behold time just kept stopping. I love songs that can take you right back to both the moment you first heard them, and also somehow into the moment they were recorded. The vitality of this record. The voices in this song just explode out of the speaker, and the chords and lyrics are so incredibly deep. And oh that guitar (Ernest Ranglin)!

Dave Alvin – “Border Radio”

This is another song where time once again stopped as I first heard it. There are some artists you come across later than you ought to have, and when you do, you think, “Where the hell have you been my whole life?” Dave Alvin is one such artist for me, and it all started with hearing this song on the radio. It’s a perfect recording harkening back to a very specific era, and it’s a perfect song. During The Twilight Zone-esque 2020/2021, I just wanted crutches that I already knew made me feel right. Ideal or not, it’s just how it happened for me.

John Prine – “When I Get to Heaven”

One of the most frustrating and sad losses. Mr. Prine was a beautiful man who wrote about our world and life through every unique lens under the sun, and somehow had a way to make you still feel OK about it. Then he got taken down by the stupidest thing imaginable. But what joy he brought, how much perspective he helped us see through, and what a sendoff he left us. This, the last song on his last album, this spoken-word ragtime jig about going to heaven. It can’t help but make you laugh and cry at the same time. Thank you, John.


Photo Credit: Ryan Knaack

With Dylan Tribute, Nitty Gritty Dirt Band Is Bringing It All Back Home

Nitty Gritty Dirt Band frontman Jeff Hanna goes way, way back with the music of Bob Dylan — to the very first time he ever saw him more than half a century ago. It was December 5, 1964, at Wilson High School in Long Beach, California.

“Yeah, $3.50 advance, $4.50 at the door, just Bob with an acoustic guitar and harmonica rack,” says Jeff. “It was after ‘Another Side of Bob Dylan,’ so the tail end of all-acoustic Bob, right before the electric stuff. He was on the cusp of making a change in musical intent and boy, was it great. Quite a thing for a 17-year-old kid.”

A bit more than two decades later, Jeff’s son Jaime had his mind similarly blown with his first Dylan experience at the ripe old age of 14.

“Red Rocks in Colorado, 1986 with Tom Petty,” says Jaime. “My little brother and I went with dad, sat at the soundboard where there was this lunch-bag full of joints. It was pretty cool and iconic to be there at that moment. And you could say it was my dad’s fault! He knew seeing him would be important for me.”

Dylan remains a multi-generational touchstone six decades after he broke onto the scene, and the Hanna men’s viewpoints through time help animate Dirt Does Dylan. A 10-song tribute to the Dylan songbook, it’s the Dirt Band’s first studio album since 2009’s Speed of Life. It’s also the group’s first album to feature its new lineup, in which Jaime has joined the family business as singer/guitarist and occasional drummer. Also new to the lineup are bassist Jim Photoglo and fiddler/mandolinist Ross Holmes, joining longtime drummer/harmonica wizard Jimmie Fadden and keyboardist Bob Carpenter alongside Jeff Hanna on vocals and guitar.

This isn’t the first time the Dirt Band has covered Dylan. 1989’s second volume of the long-running Will the Circle Be Unbroken series featured Dylan’s “You Ain’t Goin’ Nowhere,” with Roger McGuinn and Chris Hillman reprising their roles from the iconic version on the Byrds’ 1968 classic, “Sweetheart of the Rodeo.” But Dirt Does Dylan is a deep dive into all things Bob, with versions of some of the great bard’s definitive songs — “I Shall Be Released,” “She Belongs to Me” and “The Times They Are A-Changin’” among them. The latter song features an all-star cameo guest list of Rosanne Cash, Steve Earle, Jason Isbell and The War and Treaty all taking a verse.

“That one’s generational, back to that 1964 Wilson High School gig for me,” says Jeff. “As you know, Bob has never wanted to be labeled as a ‘political’ or ‘protest’ writer. But as an observer of history and society and culture, he’s always so brilliant. He wrote that one at the apex of the Civil Rights movement, which it fit right into, and yet it’s still timeless with a consistent message across the ebb and flow of the world and society and humanity. Jason and Rosanne and everybody else all brought something unique to the tune, yet it hangs together in a beautiful way.”

Other highlights include the rousing sing-along version of “Quinn the Eskimo (Mighty Quinn),” a Dirt Band soundcheck standard since Manfred Mann had a hit with it in 1968; “Girl From the North Country,” based on the 1969 Nashville Skyline version; and “I Shall Be Released,” best-known for the classic version sung by The Band keyboardist Richard Manuel on “The Basement Tapes.” Then there’s “Don’t Think Twice, It’s Alright,” 1963 B-side to “Blowin’ in the Wind” and even more of a back-pages trip for Jeff Hanna than most of these songs.

“Me and Jimmie (Fadden) and Bruce (Kunkel) were like folk puppies, and our hangout spot was McCabe’s Guitar Shop in Long Beach,” says Jeff. “We’d go there after school, grab a guitar off the wall and play. That fingerpicking pattern to ‘Don’t Think Twice’ was tricky and real cool, and learning it was like a rite of passage. It was all part of the folk process to learn that tune.”

Father-son dynamics played into “Forever Young,” with Jeff taking the first verse and Jaime the second (and Carpenter the closing third verse). That seemed fitting, given that “Forever Young” was a song Dylan reputedly wrote for his son Jakob, a future pop star as leader of The Wallflowers. The Hannas singing to each other makes it a touching intergenerational moment.

“Since it started as a song Bob sang to his son, us doing it as a father-son thing, too, came out really cool,” says Jaime. “Dad singing to me, ‘May your wishes all come true’ and then me singing, ‘May you have a strong foundation’ to him. Yeah, Dylan, he’s a pretty good writer, that guy.”

As was the case for so many projects, the coronavirus pandemic upended the planned timeline for Dirt Does Dylan. After whittling a list of around 80 possible songs down to several-score tunes to attempt in the studio, they did most of the recording in the spring of 2020. First up was the Nashville Skyline song “Tonight I’ll Be Staying Here With You,” which also wound up in the pole position on Dirt Does Dylan — eventually. The virus shutdown suspended work for about a year, and then it took another year after that to get all the i’s dotted and t’s crossed. Ray Kennedy, whose best-known credits include Lucinda Williams and Steve Earle, co-produced at his Room & Board Studio in Nashville.

“Ray’s like the mad-scientist dude from Back to the Future in a lab coat and chef’s hat,” says Jeff. “His whole sonic scene is a throwback to all this amazing analogue stuff. He’s got an incredible collection of instruments and microphones in his studio, and we used ’em all. He’d say things like, ‘Beatles records sounded pretty good, didn’t they? This is the mike they used.’”

Now that Dirt Does Dylan is out in the world, maybe it will somehow lead to another in-person encounter with the man himself. Jeff has had a couple of experiences over the years, most memorably in early 1990. It was right after the Dirt Band’s second Circle album won three Grammy Awards, and Al Kooper guided Hanna backstage to usher him into Dylan’s presence.

“We walked through this maze of tents, velvet ropes, bodyguards,” Jeff recalls. “The last rope lifted and there’s Bob in this big chair in a room tricked out with lamps and scarves. Al and Bob go way back and he introduced me, set it up nice: ‘This is Jeff Hanna who just won a Grammy, he’s a good friend and would love to meet ya.’ And I told him his music has meant so much to me — the wrong thing to say because it never lands. Then I said we’d just won a Grammy for an album with ‘You Ain’t Goin’ Nowhere,’ he looked at me for a second and said, ‘Yeah, you sure did, didn’t you?’ He had a smile on his face, but…what did that mean? Like everybody else when it comes to Dylan, I’m still analyzing. Anyway, that was it, somebody took me by the elbow and we were out. ‘What just happened?’ I asked Kooper. And he said, ‘You just met Bob Dylan, and that’s how it goes.’”


Photo Credit: Jeff Fasano

BGS 5+5: Joshua Dylan Balis

Artist: Joshua Dylan Balis
Hometown: Dallas, Texas
Latest Album: We’re On Fire
Personal nicknames: My Mom calls me by my middle name — Dylan — and everyone else calls me Josh. I’ve run through a few band names in the past. I wanted to start a group called Simple Machines when I was younger. I was also in a band called Windomere named after my street in Dallas and we actually recorded an entire album that’s still sitting on the shelf at State Fair Records.

Which artist has influenced you the most … and how?

I’ll probably spend my life going back and forth between Dylan, Cohen and Thom Yorke. Sometimes I enjoy their interviews as much as their music. I turn to Dylan for the words, Cohen for the craft, and Yorke for his melody. They are the giants whose shoulders I want to stand on.

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

iTunes debuted when I was 10 years old and I remember my dad spending weeks downloading a lifetime collection of CDs. He would burn me compilation CDs that had everything from The Strokes, to Coldplay, and The White Stripes. I remember laying on my back in my bed and listening to Is This It by The Strokes on repeat. I knew the entire album as a song — the length between each track, instrumental breaks — I was completely transfixed. I knew then I’d spend my life hopelessly devoted to music.

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

I spent a long time on a track called “Coming of Age” for this record. The chord changes in the bridge and the guitarmonies in the solo took a while for me to get right. I’d heard them in my head at a taco shop in Dallas before work one day and snuck into a closet to sing them into a voice memo. I spent the next week in Pro Tools trying to transcribe it.

What rituals do you have, either in the studio or before a show?

A cup of coffee and some solitude before the studio is big for me. I don’t listen to any music and I don’t play any of the songs I’m going to record. I want my mind fresh and my subconscious untapped. Same before a show. I’ll play through the set on an acoustic guitar early in the morning and then I’ll do things to keep my mind off of the performance. Go for a run, read something. Anything that pushes me toward my center so I’m sharp when I hit the stage.

What has been the best advice you’ve received in your career so far?

When I was 19 years old I was having a crisis of conscience. My peers were going off to school and I had zero interest. I knew I wanted to play music but I was almost afraid to admit it. I didn’t want to hear anyone tell me to be practical or that it wasn’t realistic. My uncle must have sensed what was on my mind because he asked me out to dinner to talk. He’d spent his 20s playing rock ‘n’ roll before going into business where he’d had a lot of success. He told me time was something you couldn’t get back and that through all of his years, the ones spent doing what he loved were the years he enjoyed the most. He encouraged me to follow my heart and that’s what I did.


Photo Credit: Cal & Aly

Artist of the Month: Nitty Gritty Dirt Band

One trailblazing band is paying tribute to a true folk hero with Dirt Does Dylan, a new album by Nitty Gritty Dirt Band. The collection covers 10 favorites by Bob Dylan with guests such as Rosanne Cash, Steve Earle, Jason Isbell, and The War and Treaty. Singer-guitarist Jeff Hanna and drummer Jimmie Fadden, among the group’s co-founders in 1966, are joined by longtime bandmate Bob Carpenter and three new members: fiddler Ross Holmes, singer-songwriter and bass player Jim Photoglo, and singer-guitarist Jaime Hanna (Jeff’s son). They’ve previewed the May 20 project with videos for “I Shall Be Released” (featuring Larkin Poe) as well as a new performance clip of “Forever Young.”

On that poetic track, Jeff Hanna takes the first verse and Jaime Hanna follows with the second. “Since it started as a song Bob sang to his son, us doing it as a father-son thing, too, came out really cool,” says Jaime Hanna. “Dad singing to me, ‘May your wishes all come true’ and then me singing, ‘May you have a strong foundation’ to him. Yeah, Dylan, he’s a pretty good writer, that guy.”

Look for two interviews in the weeks ahead from the Dirt Band, our BGS Artist of the Month in May. First, they’ll discuss their roots and longevity — in fact, 2022 is the 50th anniversary of their seminal album, Will the Circle Be Unbroken. Later in the month, we’ll dig further into Dirt Does Dylan, exploring how that iconic songwriter shaped the band’s music.

Of course, at the Bluegrass Situation, we’ve been fans of Nitty Gritty Dirt Band for the duration. We published a retrospective about the first Circle album in 2016. Then in 2019, Hanna spoke to BGS about Will the Circle Be Unbroken, Volume Two, sometimes referred to as Circle 2. (A third volume followed in 2002.) Naturally we’ve covered Dylan as well, from a look at Love and Theft to selecting 15 bluegrass covers from his esteemed catalog.

We certainly agree with the Dirt Band and Dylan that the times they are a changin’, but we will say that some music never goes out of style. Please enjoy our BGS Essentials playlist for Nitty Gritty Dirt Band below.


Photo Credit: Jeff Fasano

BGS 5+5: River Whyless

Artist: River Whyless
Hometown: Asheville, North Carolina
Latest Album: Monoflora

All answers by Ryan O’Keefe

What’s your favorite memory from being on stage?

Being the son of some hippies, and growing up in the woods of Maine, the folk singers from the ’60s and ’70s were pretty much on constant rotation in my house. Mitchell, Dylan, Baez, Collins and many more filled the space between the cedar walls of the small cabin my folks built. Though the calluses on my mothers fingers had long since softened, she still strummed the tunes of her youth on the Ibanez she had carried around Australia with her from 1971 to 1973. So it was one of the great pleasures of my life to place the call to my parents, letting them know that we would indeed be playing at the Newport Folk Festival. Elated, we got them tickets and set up a weekend for them to come down and watch their son on the very stage that had influenced so much of their lives.

We played an early set. An unknown band, brought in from North Carolina to perform at the fort and no idea if anyone was going to show up. They did. The most eager, dedicated crowd we’ve ever performed for. Thousands packed inside and outside of the tent that cradled the stage. We performed in a blur and time floated by and we just kinda let ourselves get swept downstream. It all ended with an encore, a standing crowd and us lingering on the stage that had given us so much life in such a short period of time. When we finally did walk off, Jay (the director of the festival) clapped us on the back and said welcome to the family. It struck me that that family I was now a part of included the artists who made those very records that I grew up listening to in the quilted cabin in Maine.

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

During the pandemic, when all our tours were canceled, I teamed up with my good friend Israel, and we started making elaborate meals cooked strictly outdoors. I suppose at the time we wanted to get our friends together in a safe way and so this was our solution. The first meal was cochinita pibil, a Yucatan classic of slow-cooked pork shoulder wrapped in banana leaves cooked in a pit in the ground. Next, Justin Ringle from the band Horse Feathers, came into town and we reconfigured the pibil pit to make jerk chicken. The most recent dinner was a stew cooked in a five-gallon cauldron over an open flame. Music has always been around, of course, and Israel plays the uilleann pipes so I have been trying my hand at some traditional Irish guitar. We stumble our way through a couple jigs and reels but anything sounds good when you’re cooking five gallons of stew in a cauldron, outside, with your friends.

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

I was a late bloomer musically. I really didn’t start playing guitar until I met Alex, our drummer, in college at Appalachian State University. He sparked my true musical awakening and, in his dorm room, we devoured angsty indie rock and pop records from the early 2000s. Bright Eyes, Mates of State, The Decemberists. I wanted to learn the songs so Alex and I could play music together. I picked up guitar but was awful at learning covers so I just started writing my own songs. I think shortly after that I realized that writing music, in particular, was my calling. I didn’t know if I’d be any good, but I knew that I lost myself in the craft. And that’s all I can ask for.

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

Songs generally come out of the blue. At least the good ones. I have hundreds of pieces of songs saved in voice memos that have long since been forgotten. I think a lot of them have potential but the moment has been lost. For me, it’s imperative that I stop everything and just work on a song when it “comes.” That first session with a new idea is the most important time for the life of a song. With all that being said, I don’t follow my own advice nearly enough. I get distracted, or have some other obligation, which happens more and more the older I get. But there are songs, just pieces that just continue to nag at me and refuse to sink quietly into the depths of my phone. The song “Oil Skin” off our new album comes to mind. The first line, “When I was a child my mother would bathe me in the sink, pull the oil from my skin” has been kicking around my head for years. We tried to make a song of it on We All the Light and then again on Kindness a Rebel. But it wasn’t until we sat down to write Monoflora that the song finally found a home. I think it was Dan who suggested that we switch the groove from a waltz to a straight 4/4 beat. We left the vocal melody resembling the original waltz and that was the key. It has a subtle trippy cadence that I wouldn’t have naturally thought of. It still took some work but we had unlocked the door and stepped inside.

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

I live in the woods. I spend most of my time at my house with my wife and daughter. The only neighbor I can see is Alex, our drummer. So the North Carolina mountains are everything to me at this point. They are so infused in my life that I can’t separate myself from them at all. I hike everyday on old logging roads out back of my house with my daughter on my back and my dog at my side. Often I take it for granted. I try not to, but it’s inevitable. It influences every part of my writing because it influences every part of me.


Photo Credit: Molly Milroy