Out Now: Sadie Gustafson-Zook

Sadie Gustafson-Zook is a detailed songwriter, pulling together collages of images and ideas and stitching them into melodies and lyrics. I met Sadie in 2019 at Club Passim, a renowned folk venue in Cambridge, Massachusetts known for promoting generations of great folk music. I was studying in Boston at the time, surrounded by incredible developing artists. Sadie was one of them, alongside Liv Greene, Jobi Riccio (featured before on Out Now), and Olivia Barton, another queer artist who came through the Club Passim folk scene and is now gaining traction.

We are excited to share our interview with Sadie the same week she releases the incredible new album, Where I Wanna Be (available May 10). Their thoughtful writing, pure voice, and creative guitar lines are sure to impress. Many of the songs on the album have a lullaby-like feel enhanced by Sadie’s soft voice and soothing melodies.

This month, Sadie is touring the Midwest with Brittany Ann Tranbaugh, who we also featured on Out Now earlier this year. They are powerful songwriters and performers alone, but seeing both artists in one show is a treat that you don’t want to miss! If you’re in the area, be sure to catch their tour through Wisconsin, Minnesota, Michigan, and Indiana.

What’s your ideal vision for your future?

Sadie Gustafson-Zook: Ideally, I would be able to keep doing what I’m doing, but slightly more of it. I think my music offers something special and I would like for more people to hear it. At the same time, I really do like living at least part of the time as a normal person who is in their house and has a cat and is a part of their local community’s life – so maintaining a sense of balance is definitely something I’m passionate about.

Right now, my ideal vision would be to play 100+ fun gigs per year (I’m not really interested in gigging for the sake of the grind – I mostly want to have a good time and hang out with people I love); continue teaching privately and at music camps (I’ve been really lucky to be able to do this at Kerrville’s Song School, Kentucky Music Week, and this summer I’ll be at Ossipee Valley’s String Camp); spend a lot of time in nature and with my family; and keep absorbing so I have things to write about.

Why do you create music? What’s more satisfying to you, the process or the outcome?

I create music because I think it’s fun to sing and play instruments and I like writing about my own life in a way that other people can relate to. Personally, I like being able to organize my thoughts into a nugget that is shaped like a song and that helps me sort out my emotions. And then socially, I love having the opportunity to share those songs and feel a broader sense of connection with people around me – and people who I don’t know! So, I think the process and the outcome are both things I really enjoy.

Do you create music primarily for yourself or for others?

In college, I was a voice major and I spent four years singing operatic arias. I didn’t initially think this was what I was going to spend my college years doing, but once I started singing in such a big and full-body way, I had a really fun time experimenting with the extremes of what sounds my body was capable of producing. But when I performed these songs written by classical composers I didn’t feel very connected to the essence of the music. I sang it for myself, because it was fun (and probably also because I wanted people to pay attention to me), but I wasn’t assuming that my performance would touch something deep in someone else.

Since then, I have shifted towards writing and performing original music. I enjoy writing songs that are fun to sing and I write based on what I’m going through and what I need to talk about. Ironically, this feels like a more communal act than performing music that someone else wrote. I have the greatest chance of connecting with an audience over a shared experience if I’m speaking directly from my own experience, and ultimately my biggest goal is connection.

You shared about maintaining a sense of balance between being in the music industry and living in a home, with your pet, surrounded by community. Many artists and music-industry professionals have a challenging time with this. How have you built a sense of balance between these things? Do you have any words of advice for others working through the same challenges?

I’m very privileged to have an affordable living situation right now thanks to moving back to my hometown in the Midwest and having my parents as landlords. This freedom has made it possible for me to pay my bills exclusively with music-related work, which helps keep morale high in the music department. So I just want to preface everything else I say with the acknowledgement that it’s a lot easier to feel balanced when I’m not constantly worrying about money. While my situation is a privilege, I also know that not everyone would want to leave their music city hub and move in across the street from their parents in Indiana! Ha!

In terms of time balance, I’ve been testing out the way it feels to have music plans that take me away from home for one(ish) week each month, with some longer exceptions in the summer. That has been a nice way to not get too antsy at home, while also giving myself time to do more administrative work and be present in my town between tours. My first year of living in Goshen, I was pretty lonely and spent most of my time online, which honestly was horrible. I was really craving more in-person connections, so this year I’ve been digging into local activities as well as being really intentional about seeing my songwriter friends’ shows when they’re in a nearby city. Even when I don’t feel like leaving my house or driving a few hours away to see someone, I’m almost always happy that I did.

Your music is so descriptive, thoughtful, and well-crafted. What was the process like for you to write these 10 songs on the new album?

Thank you! The majority of these songs were written when I was living in Nashville in the spring of 2022 and then also when I was traveling around, sleeping in my car that summer. I had just had a breakup in Seattle and had to figure out where I wanted to live and between those two major changes I had a lot of processing to do! I also was spending a lot more time alone than I was used to and I felt like I had a lot of pent up creativity that came out really fast. Then there are also a few songs that I wrote once I was starting to feel a bit more settled in my hometown, as memories from my past kind of overlaid on top of my newer understanding of myself. Those came out more like steady drips throughout the end of 2022 and into 2023.

What inspired you to write Where I Wanna Be? What does the album mean to you and what do you hope others will take away from this collection of songs?

Although the album is called Where I Wanna Be, thematically the songs are more about who I wanna be and what I need to change in order to be that person. When someone asks, “How are you?” it’s easier to talk about geographical location (“I’ve been traveling a lot!”) as a substitute for emotional location (“I’ve been feeling really ungrounded”), especially when everything is in flux.

Each song, in its own way, speaks to who I want to be; I want to be someone who is free and expansive, who knows what makes me happy, whose identity reflects who I know myself to be, who is a part of a team/community, who doesn’t give my power away, who is consistently and historically queer, who trusts myself, who speaks up for myself and takes accountability, who feels at home in my geographical location, and someone who maintains a sense of curiosity in the midst of uncertainty. And that’s basically the whole album.

I think that’s why the album feels so intimate. Though I wrote this collection of songs for my own processing, I know that a lot of people go through this process for themselves, so I’m happy to lend my own experience to folks who might find it helpful.

The title track of the album, “Where I Wanna Be,” includes the lyric, “Every year I drive around, scope out the towns, thinking is this where I wanna be found.” I am curious if you feel a sense of the “grass is greener” in another town? I feel like this is a huge theme, especially among young adults, the idea that we may feel more fulfilled in another place.

Even if I daydream about moving, I find that I feel pretty aware of what I’m missing out on (in a positive and a negative way), and that helps with not over idealizing certain places. I know about the realities of living in Boston, or Brooklyn, or Nashville, or the PNW, and so all things considered, I’ve chosen to live where I am and visit those other places.

Sometimes I still daydream about living somewhere else, but mostly what I find myself imagining are the different communities I could be a part of. I’ve gotten little windows into different communities through meeting people at festivals and conferences, which are mysterious liminal spaces where people who live in different places gather together. They don’t represent an actual location where I could live permanently. And I think it’s helpful for me to remember that when I start feeling like I should move. Likely I’m imagining somewhere that doesn’t currently exist. Not that we couldn’t start an artist commune, though.

Who are your favorite LGBTQ+ artists and bands?

God, more like who isn’t LGBTQ+! [Laughs]

Spencer LaJoye, Flamy Grant, Jean Rohe, Liv Greene, Jobi Riccio, Singer & the Songwriter, Cloudbelly, Lindsay Foote, Olivia Barton, Joy Clark, Allison de Groot & Tatiana Hargraves, Olive Klug, Jane O’Neill, Brittany Ann Tranbaugh, Elisabeth Pixley-Fink, Adrienne Lenker, Taylor Ashton, Eliza Edens, Rachael Kilgour, Emily King, Judee Sill, and tons of obviously bisexual woman performers who aren’t publicly out.

For anyone reading this who might not be out of the closet, were there any specific people, musicians, or resources that helped you find yourself as a queer individual?

Although I’m bisexual, reading the Lesbian Masterdoc was very helpful as a way to sort through my past, draw connections between memories and feelings, and generally deconstruct the idea that being straight was the only option for me (compulsory heterosexuality). I also really loved reading Katie Heaney’s book, Would You Rather, and The Fixed Stars by Molly Wizenberg. (In addition to following every cute queer person I found on Instagram.)

What does it mean to you to be an LGBTQ+ musician?

I often feel like performers are treated kind of like inspirational court jesters, where we’re being the weird, thoughtful, creative ones, and the normal people come to shows to live vicariously through us. Honestly, it’s pretty similar to how queer people break boxes and live expansively just by being ourselves (except that queer stories are often suppressed and not amplified). So, if I have the opportunity to have a platform and the power to influence my audience, I want to take that responsibility seriously and show up as my fullest self so they can see that it’s possible for them as well. I love being a queer musician and knowing that by just being myself, I might be helping audience members learn more about themselves as well.

What’s the best advice you’ve ever gotten?

In 2016, I was attending the Rocky Mountain Song School and was a part of a partnered songwriting class where each participant told their partner a story from their life and then the partner would use that story as a songwriting prompt. My songwriting partner told me about his career trajectory and how someone advised him to get an entry-level job at the local venue that he wanted to play. So he got a job as a busboy at this venue and then progressively worked his way up, eventually becoming tight with the booker until he was selling out shows with his name on the marquee.

Although he wasn’t giving advice per se, I kept this story in mind when I moved to Boston after college and I got a job working at the box office of Club Passim. Regardless of career prospects, I think it’s a really good idea, for community building purposes, to become a regular wherever you want people to know you. For me, in working at Passim, I was hanging out there all the time and it was inevitable that I met a ton of super cool people who are doing really great things and now I feel pretty well-connected.

What are your release and touring plans for the next year?

This year is a big one for me! I’m (obviously) releasing this new album, Where I Wanna Be, and I actually have another recorded project scheduled for the fall! Tour-wise, I have been upping my booking game and will be touring around the Midwest in May with Brittany Ann Tranbaugh (we’ll likely be around Wisconsin and Minnesota when this article is published), the West coast in October with Jean Rohe, and the Northeast in November, and a lot of other spots in between! I’ll be teaching at a few songwriting and music camps as well, which I love to do. So I think it’ll be a great year!


Photo Credit: Morgan Hoogland

Basic Folk: Dinty Child

Dinty Child, founding member of Session Americana, the beloved Boston roots music collective who’ve accidentally been a band for 20 years, has just released his second solo album, Letting the Lions In. The new songs feature co-writing on all tracks between Dinty and Boston area songwriters like Mark Erelli, Kris Delmhorst, and Dave Godowsky. A self-proclaimed slow-writer, the majority of these songs were written on the annual Sub Rosa songwriting retreat Dinty runs on Three Mile Island (no, not that Three Mile Island) on Lake Winnipesaukee in New Hampshire. Owned by the Appalachian Mountain Club, Dinty’s family has been working at the island for over 100 years. Dinty currently serves as the off-season manager, putting his musician and carpenter skills to good use hosting songwriter friends at said retreat – like Rose Cousins, Rose Polenzani, Rachael Price, Miss Tess and many more, as well as Miles of Music, a summer camp run by Dinty, Kristin Andreassen, and Laura Cortese.

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Letting the Lions In was co-produced by Zachariah Hickman (Josh Ritter, Ray LaMontagne) and recorded at Great North Sound in Parsonsfield, Maine over the course of three days in the spring of 2021. Dinty says, “I often trade construction work for studio time there.”

During our conversation, we dig into why these songs needed to be recorded. Our consensus is that legacy and spreading joy to his community are the top two reasons. Also, Dinty, who says an annoyingly large percentage of his songs start as dreams, talks about what kind of sleeper he is, what’s with the lion, and his thoughts on drinking – thanks to the handful of alcohol songs on the new album. Dinty is a dear friend to the podcast and an important part of the New England musical landscape, we’re thrilled to have him on the show!


Photo Credit: Sam Kassirer

Elise Leavy is the Faerie Kid of Folk

Dive into the enchanting world of Elise Leavy – who hails from picturesque Monterey, California – through her latest album, A Little Longer. Leavy’s artistic journey is steeped in the influences of her magical childhood surroundings. Her life growing up was filled with music and art, thanks to her mom’s painting and her stepdad’s own musical talents. Growing up with a deep appreciation for nature and a belief in faeries, Leavy shares how these elements shaped her musical perspective.

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As we explore Elise’s musical evolution in this episode of Basic Folk, we touch on her experiences with live performances, overcoming stage fright, and the art of songwriting. Her unique approach to music, drawing from her magical way of thinking, is reflected in her exploration of various musical instruments – from accordion to guitar, piano, fiddle, and more. We also uncover the impact of her time at summer camps, which fostered a sense of community that continues to shape her artistic expression to this day.

This episode delves into the intriguing intersection of Leavy’s musical journey with homeschooling, highlighting the unconventional path she took to prioritize her love for songwriting and music making. She left public school in eighth grade to focus on her craft and built her schedule around attending music camps. She would go on to study at New England Conservatory and she lived briefly in New York. After several years in Nashville, she has recently found herself living in Lafayette, Louisiana.

The songs on Leavy’s new album, A Little Longer, were mostly written while she was based in the Northeast. In our conversation, Elise opens up about her connections to music, magical creatures, and the harmonious blend of romance and fantasy in her musical creations.


Photo Credit: Kaitlyn Raitz

Basic Folk: Celebrating 25 Years of Club Passim’s Campfire Festival

Let’s get folking special! We’re closing out 2023 with an exclusive live recording from folk mothership Club Passim, the historic folk venue located in Cambridge, Massachusetts, that celebrates the bi-annual campfire festival and its remarkable 25th anniversary. It started as a way for the club to book a slow holiday weekend and now 25 years later, campfire is still held every Memorial Day and Labor Day weekend. It remains an extremely popular fundraiser for Passim.

Cindy and Lizzie host this live show featuring captivating performances by Lizzie, Zachariah Hickman, Kara McKee, and Mercedes Escobar. Additionally, listeners are treated to a rare on-stage interview with managing director and campfire founder Matt Smith as well as club manager and campfire programmer Abby Altman, providing unique insights into the festival’s evolution and the passion that fuels its success.

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This episode highlights the unpredictability of campfire, where both emerging artists and legends like Peter Wolf share the sacred stage. Matt Smith and Abby Altman’s dedication shines through as they discuss their exhaustive efforts in planning, booking, and executing nearly 60 campfires, showcasing the heart and soul behind this beloved festival. Tune in for a mix of live music, insightful conversations, and a nostalgic journey through the rich history of “campfire.” and Club Passim.


Photo Credit: Club Passim

Bluegrass, Folk, and Country Communities Made Jobi Riccio

(Editor’s Note: This interview first appeared in full on Basic Folk. Listen on BGS or wherever you get podcasts. The following has been lightly edited for flow and clarity.)

Jobi Riccio has only begun to scratch the surface of what they have to offer on their debut album, Whiplash. The songwriting is centered around self discovery and mourning past lives, laid alongside super-smart country and pop melodies. Our hero grew up an outdoor kid amongst the woods of Red Rocks Parks Amphitheatre in Colorado.

A strong bluegrass community encircled her playing from a very young age in a way that encouraged her to pursue music as a career. She spent time in Boston attending Berklee College of Music, nestled in the folk community centered around the historic venue Club Passim. March 2020 hit. Jobi had to leave her newfound community and found herself back in her childhood bedroom.

While wrestling with all the complications of finding herself and her place in the world, they were letting go of their childhood and the sense of grounding that came with it. Eventually, they made their way to Asheville, North Carolina to work on Whiplash.

In the studio, she took her time making the album and discovered that indeed, she had a strong sense of vision for the music. The trust of her collaborators allowed her to trust in herself and create an album that is turning heads and making Jobi Riccio one of the most exciting young songwriters of 2023.

BGS: Thank you so much for being on Basic Folk.

Jobi Riccio: Thank you for having me.

Alright, let’s start. I wanted to talk about identity and give you the opportunity to talk about your identity, like how do you identify pronouns, orientation, any of that stuff that we want to address.

JR: Yeah, I use she/they pronouns. I identify as queer and identity has been something that feels like it’s been important and very complicated for me. It feels like something that I have spoken about and made a part of my career, and now I’m kind of feeling, a little bit, like it’s become too much of a focus in my career, actually.

It’s funny, because I was listening to your other podcast that [you do], I can’t remember–

It’s [Basic Folk Debate Club], an occasional crossover series with Why We Write.

Yes! I was like, you’ll know the person to plug – and I’m so sorry to Why We Write.

It’s based on actually something that Lizzie No was saying. I just really resonated with something that she said, which was it’s about who is asking those questions of me. It can feel like a fine line. It’s kind of “cool” right now to be a queer artist or a Black artist or an artist of color in the folk space.

When you’re with your community, that feels one way, or with people who are truly great. And then when you’re with people who it just seems like they need to check that box. It’s so obvious and it’s so painful and it feels like a betrayal of yourself. And [Lizzie] put it a lot more eloquently than all that, but if we’re really going down the discussion of identity, it’s important to me that I am open with my identity, but I also feel like there have been times where it’s been so hyper-focused on. In a way that it’s like, “Did you even listen to any of my songs or did you know what I mean?”

I really enjoyed that answer. Doing these interviews, sometimes I feel like I’m gonna ask and I think that the interview is gonna go one way or a question is gonna go one way and it goes the complete opposite way. I just get to enjoy the ride.

You are from Morrison, Colorado, which is outside of Denver – the same place as Red Rocks Parks and Amphitheatre. You were an outdoor kid. How do you think your early experience in nature has impacted the person you became?

I think that it’s something that I really value and need and it’s a processing tool for me, being out in nature. It’s almost equivalent to songwriting and writing in my journal. It’s honestly super hard here in Nashville, because I don’t feel like I can get that, in the way that I used to be able to walk to a hiking trail five minutes from my house. I was absolutely supremely spoiled with outdoor access as a kid. [I didn’t] know any better. Like, there’s going to come a time where you’re going to live somewhere the nearest mountains are two and a half hours away. That is rough. It’s something I have to really intentionally build into my life now.

I think that nature heavily informs me as a person. Musically, I feel like it shows up in my lyrics [and] images from home, talking about coyotes and cactus and etc. I feel like it’s so intrinsic to who I am as a person.

So nature ruined you.

For real. The nature ruined me. Colorado ruined me.

There has always been this strong draw to music for you – country radio, your parents and sister’s collection of music, and also making music on your own. Can you set the scene for what music looked like in your house? And when did you get a grasp on your own taste in music?

My parents definitely – we had like a home stereo and a big collection of CDs and I spent a lot of time just sort of putzing around my house as a little kid, opening cabinets, and looking at things and opening the encyclopedia and reading. I don’t know if anyone else feels like a really intrinsic part of childhood was just looking at things.

The CD collection in like, a big wicker basket was definitely a huge one for me. They felt like little gifts. I could open up the CD and then there was this extra thing I could pull out and there were liner notes and lyrics and I could read along. That was really big for me, because I was always really interested in lyrics.

My dad’s a huge Bruce Springsteen fan. We love the Boss and sometimes we can’t understand the Boss. And like, his lyrics are wonderful, too. I really feel like that was pretty formative to me, looking through my parents’ CDs and my sister’s CDs as well. My oldest sister had like a clear, hot pink, very early 2000s lockbox thing that she kept her CDs in. I very vividly remember going into her room and stealing CDs – The Killers, Coldplay, A Rush of Blood to the Head was a big one for me, Sheryl Crow, Tuesday Night Music Club, Yellow Ocean Avenue. Then like Emmylou Harris, Bruce Springsteen, Linda Ronstadt, the Eagles, James Taylor.

There is a strong bluegrass community where you’re from. You found it at an early age, playing mandolin when you were like eight or nine years old. Since then you’ve sought out musical community, so what did you learn from that first musical community? 

The bluegrass community was a big part of feeling supported for me in music. I was always a kid who sang and was like, the girl with a good voice in like my elementary school class or whatever, but I didn’t see myself as a musician until I really started playing mandolin. I had a teacher and he was super supportive and was like, “You’re really great at instruments, too.”

I feel like the bluegrass community in my hometown took me seriously even though I was a little kid running around at RockyGrass – and by “a little kid” I mean 16. I didn’t go to my first bluegrass festival until I was a teenager. I would go and sit and jam with adults and be taken seriously. I really looked up to [those who were] offering their support to me, that was immeasurable to [growing] my own self confidence at that age.

I mean, I was so insecure at like 15, 16. The first year I ever went to RockyGrass, which sort of became my home festival, I didn’t even go out and play with anyone. I just sat in my camper with my mom, because I was so scared and so nervous and having trouble with confidence. The next year, I was out like playing every night ’til like 2 or 3 a.m.

That’s a huge shift!

Yeah. I feel like community and music– I mean, no musician is an island. We’re nothing without the musicians who came before us and those who’ve supported us. Sometimes I look back on that time and wonder if I hadn’t gotten that nod in that jam from that older kid who was really good, who I thought was awesome; or from that artist who I worshipped, who told me I had a beautiful voice; or I had shared one of my songs with them, and they were encouraging of me writing. I wonder if I would have taken it this far?

Then I got to be in a really beautiful community space working at Club Passim in college, too. That also further helped bolster my confidence, especially playing solo. Because – as you know, as also somebody who worked there in a much different capacity – it’s very much like a solo listening room, singer-songwriter space.

I play solo [a lot] now on tour, because I can’t afford to bring out a band. I feel like I really garnered some valuable skills watching other people like Mark Erelli and Lori McKenna play solo at Passim and also having to do that myself, learning how to speak about the songs I had written and not be painfully awkward, but doing that in the loving embrace of that room.

You’ve talked about Sheryl Crow and The Chicks as having a huge impact on you. You picked up the mandolin after you first heard Nickel Creek – can you talk more about the influence Chris Thile and Sara and Sean Watkins had on you?

So, I first heard Nickel Creek on the radio on KBCO, which is like the AAA station.

Hell yeah, that’s a huge station. That’s where AAA was born!

Where AAA was born, famously, yes! That was my local radio station that I listened to as a kid. And they would play “Smoothie Song” by Nickel Creek. This was around the same time that I heard the Home album by The Chicks. I was listening to Top 40 country music and also hearing mandolin here and there. It’s so strange, because I don’t play the mandolin anymore. It’s just something I’m not interested in now – it makes me almost kind of sad to think of how this was such a big part of my life.

Then I really pivoted – and it’s like, I’ll never say never, but yeah, I started playing mandolin when I was 15, I wanted to play mandolin when I was about eight or nine years old, because that was when we got Why Should the Fire Die on CD as a family. When I started opening up the CD and reading the booklet and listening – that album is so cool, because there’s a little bit of almost a pop-punk thing to some of the songs, like “Somebody More Like You.” That was so of-the-time and I loved it. I couldn’t get enough of that.

Being introduced to this new palette of instruments that I really hadn’t heard played in this way. I was familiar with bluegrass to some extent, but it like bluegrass for me and my like angsty little 12-year-old self. And, you know, everybody’s angsty selves at any age. That struck such a chord in me…

The first song I heard by them was that Pavement cover.

And Pavement’s super emo! “Spit On a Stranger,” right?

Yeah, that’s it.

I loved that album, too. They were all older than me, but I didn’t really know that either because, like, they’re pretty young on the CD case. They’re probably [around] my older sister’s age, who is now 28. They’re not that close in age to me, but I did feel a kindred-ness that I feel like a lot of roots artists talk about, hearing them and the Chicks and being like, “Oh, this is cool! This is of the moment.” They’re incorporating sounds that we like from other genres, which is really what I think I’m trying to get with the whole pop-punk thing, though I know that can be kind of a “dirty” word, like pop country. I don’t think it should be, I don’t think any genre word should be.

And I definitely had like a three month period where I was like, “I’m in love with Chris Thile. I’m going to marry him.” That was a little, you know, short lived, but it was strong. His high, angelic voice really spoke to my prepubescent soul.

That’s so sweet.

You’re like, “I don’t know what to say about that!”

Thank you for sharing. No, it turns out it was Sara Watkins the whole time!

Right, yeah! Hiding in plain sight!

Your bluegrass wife.

(Editor’s Note: Listen to the unabridged Basic Folk episode featuring Jobi Riccio here.)


Photo Credit: Monica Murray

Out Now: Liv Greene

For this edition of Out Now, we’re honored to introduce an artist I’ve known for years. Liv Greene and I met in 2017 at Interlochen Arts Academy. It’s incredible to watch artists like Liv, who have been dedicated to their craft for years, develop careers in the industry. Following our time at a small arts school in Northern Michigan, Liv and I both moved to Boston. After a year at Tufts, grappling between following a traditional path or following her intuition, she transferred to New England College of Music. And we both eventually found ourselves in Nashville.

I have known a small handful of individuals who took this path – following music and intuition from their teen years into adulthood. That kind of persistence and dedication is rare.

I’ve known Liv from before they were out to even their closest friends to now, a time when they are publicly vocal about their identity. To some, these things may seem small. But to teens, up-and-coming artists, and the queer community, it’s incredibly important.

Liv has long been one of the most talented artists I’ve known – even in their teen years. But years of persistence and dedication to their craft have sculpted their music and work into something polished, professional, and bound to take off if they continue on this path. If you don’t know their music, you’re in for a treat: sophisticated guitar lines soaring melodies and reflective lyrics. We are so proud to present Liv Greene for Out Now.

Why do you create music? – What’s more satisfying to you, the process or the outcome?

Liv Greene: The process! I think I make music because I have an ever-burning curiosity and desire to learn new things. Ever since I was 11 and first discovered my ravenous appetite for learning songs on the guitar, my passion has burned brightly and shifted focus a number of times. Recently, the process of recording is really fascinating to me. I am quite new to it overall, and I feel lucky to have some mentors that have really helped me wrap my head around the daunting mystery of it. My first record was produced by my friend and mentor Isa Burke, (you may have heard her shred electric guitar and fiddle with Aoife O’Donovan), and watching her work, as both a session musician and producer on that record, was beyond inspiring. This past year I’ve been lucky to work on a record with legendary engineer Matt Andrews. Matt’s become a friend as well as a mentor and the process of making music with him has taught me more than I can even put into words.

What is your current state of mind?

Recently, it’s not the most positive. With the accelerating climate crisis, I’ve been grappling with big picture plans and visions and considering how it all may need to change in a different world. For example, touring, while once a main dream for my career, now doesn’t feel like the most important thing to me anymore, especially given all the carbon emissions from flying and the gasoline needed to drive. While connecting with people over sharing music on tour feels really sacred to me, I think being intentional about it and how often I’m doing it feels like the only thing that makes sense. With how scary things are these days, I’ve been trying to zoom in on the close-range and try to make it better. Brighten a corner in the space I’m already in now. I’ve been focusing on the things that have always held me, and trying to be the best I can in return to them. My loved ones, family and friends, and my craft.

What would a “perfect day” look like for you?

As much as I love the road, a perfect day would probably be an off day at home. The groundedness of home is unparalleled. I’d wake up around 9, have some coffee and avocado toast, read my book (right now I’m reading this stunning queer novel, Swimming in the Dark), then go out for my favorite 6-mile skate route through the woods near my home (I love rollerskating, particularly trail skating), then come home, and get ready for the day. Once dressed for the day, I’d play some guitar, work on a half-written song or two.

My favorite way to work on songs is to pick up drafts and ponder them by improvising on them every few weeks until they take form. A perfect day of this would probably lead to a completed song and a demo, which I do on cassette on my Tascam portastudio 424mkii with an Ear Trumpet Labs Edwina mic. Four track demo-ing makes my heart happy. Something about the constraints, and the warmth and imperfection of tape, really helps to rise above the minutia and get to the heart of the song. I’d probably enjoy something tasty for lunch, maybe meet a friend or two for some antiquing or thrifting, and then end the day over delicious food with dear friends. Sharing songs, crafting, and drinking wine or tea on a night in, or dancing my boots off to motown or honky-tonk if on a night out in Nashville.

What’s the best advice you’ve ever gotten?

There are two in particular that come to mind. The first is songwriting related, and it’s something I first heard when I was 16 at Interlochen songwriting camp in northern Michigan. My instructor at the time, an amazing North Carolina-based songwriter and community builder named Cary Cooper, shared with us the words of Mary Gauthier: “Sing the song that only you can sing.” That message has stuck with me ever since, for its sobering simplicity and its reminder to look for the story you can tell best, the one on your own heart.

In terms of non-song-related advice, my friend Jack Schneider introduced me to the Stephen Covey quote, “The main thing is to keep the main thing the main thing.” This applies to production work, when you need to zoom out and make sure you haven’t lost the heart of the song, but also to life in general. If I’m ever getting too tied into or stressed over the details of something I try to remind myself, “It’s just music, focus on the music, enjoy it.”

Who are your favorite LGBTQ+ artists and bands?

This answer changes monthly, maybe even weekly, as we are so blessed to have so many artists who are out and proud these days. Growing up it was Brandi Carlile, and she will always be a huge influence for me not only as a writer and musician, but just as a person. Recently, it’s been a lot of my old friends/new friends/mentors, Jobi Riccio (killer classic-style songwriting meets honest new perspectives and modern production), Chappell Roan (kitschy, campy, brilliant pop artist), Olivia Barton and Corook (you may know the smash TikTok hit, “If I Were a Fish“), Mary Bragg (brilliant songwriting, production, and stunning vocals), Melissa Carper (queer woman queen of western swing/classic country), Rosie Tucker (brilliantly clever indie magic), and Izzy Heltai (indie-americana sad boy music that gets to the heart of it). For more pop, MUNA is also one of my all-time favorite bands, period, Saves the World being the record that got me into them. Their live shows are always a religious experience.

What does it mean to you to be an LGBTQ+ musician? And what are your release and touring plans for the next year?

Man, being an out LGBTQ+ musician means the world to me. Being queer is beautiful, it’s a blessing and a gift to be able to access the fullness of who you are without limitations, and I think it’s particularly special to me given how I am able to be proud of it after years of shame around it. Representation matters. I remember seeing Brandi Carlile when I was 14 and didn’t have any other tangible people I saw myself and my queerness in. In a lot of ways, seeing her live at such a young age helped me realize that it was ok to be me.

As for touring plans, you can catch me on the road this fall with fellow queer Americana artist Brittany Ann Tranbaugh, who just released an EP produced by Tyler Chester (Madison Cunningham) that’s damn good, as well as a couple shows in Tennessee in late October opening for one of my favorite songwriters, Margo Cilker. For release plans, I recently finished work on LP #2 and am burning with anticipation to get it out. It’s looking like spring of 2024. Good things take time.


Photo Credit: Courtesy of Liv Greene.

Basic Folk: Jobi Riccio Is an Outdoor Kid

Jobi Riccio has only begun to scratch the surface of what they have to offer on their debut album, Whiplash. The songwriting is centered around self-discovery and mourning past lives, laid alongside super smart country and pop melodies. Our hero grew up an outdoor kid amongst the woods of Red Rocks Parks and Amphitheatre in Colorado. A strong bluegrass community encircled her playing from a very young age, in a way that encouraged her to pursue music as a career. She spent time in Boston attending Berklee College of Music nestled in the folk community centered around the historic venue, Club Passim. Then March 2020 hit.

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Jobi left her new community and found herself back in her childhood bedroom. She was “wrestling with all the complications of finding herself and her place in the world while letting go of her childhood and the sense of grounding that came with it.” Eventually, they made their way to Asheville, North Carolina to work on Whiplash. In the studio, she took her time making the album and discovered that, indeed, she had a strong sense of vision for the music. The trust of her collaborators allowed her to trust in herself and create an album that is turning heads and making Jobi Riccio one of the most exciting young songwriters of 2023. I loved talking to them about their origin, time in Boston and their continuing musical journey. Can’t wait for you to hear her new album!


Photo Credit: Monica Murray

LISTEN: Lake Street Dive, “Neighbor Song” (Feat. Madison Cunningham)

Artist: Lake Street Dive
Hometown: New York City, New York
Song: “Neighbor Song” (Featuring Madison Cunningham)
Release Date: October 6, 2023
Label: Fantasy Recordings

In Their Words: “Madison Cunningham is an extremely special musician, the kind who can make a single note sound like music and who breathes life into every song that she comes into contact with. We feel so honored to have had her join us on one of our songs. We first recorded ‘Neighbor Song’ in 2010, shortly after a few of us had moved to Brooklyn. The song narrates an experience, all too familiar to many New York City apartment dwellers, of overhearing your neighbors making love. Involuntarily bearing witness to such intimacy inspires a potent mix of emotions from annoyance to despair to compassion. It’s a fun song to play live because we get to walk the audience through this emotional journey. Some audiences laugh a lot when we play it. Some cry a lot. In preparing to do this song on tour with Madison, we came up with a new musical treatment for the song to bring out some different sides of those emotions. We recorded it with Madison in Brooklyn, live in one room in a single take. We hope it makes you laugh and/or cry!” – Lake Street Dive


Photo Credit: Shervin Lainez

Basic Folk: Meg Hutchinson

It’s been 10 years since Boston-area Meg Hutchinson has released an album … and she did it super quietly, so no shade if you didn’t realize that your favorite middle sister is back with some seriously devastating songs. Meg grew up just outside of Great Barrington, Massachusetts, where she had an idyllic childhood surrounded by woods and framed by her desire to become a folk singer. That dream was realized after she graduated college, quit her organic-lettuce-farm job and moved to Boston in the early 2000s. There, she wove herself into its vibrant folk community gigging around New England, performing in the subway and getting signed to the prestigious Red House Records, where she released three albums.

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Throughout her life she has suffered from severe mental illness, experiencing her first major bout of depression at age 19. Not understanding, she felt ashamed and hid her illness for nine years. After a huge whirlwind 2006 tour in England where she experienced a high never felt before, Meg came home and felt mania and severe depression all at once. She called her family to help and it was her younger sister, Tessa, who eventually got Meg professional help. After a long road stabilizing and healing, Meg has a grasp on her bipolar disorder, which she calls by its former name: manic depression. She’s discovered her calling as a palliative care hospital chaplain and hospice worker. She’s no longer working music. She’s playing music and that’s how she approached this new album, All The Wonder All The Beauty, an album she says “is about things we don’t want to talk about.” She writes about her mental illness, midlife and death. This is an intense discussion with one of my favorite people! I’m so happy she’s released this album and excited for you to get to know Meg Hutchinson.


Photo Credit: Stephan Hoglund

LISTEN: Handsome Ghost, “Tonight Comes Round Again”

Artist: Handsome Ghost
Hometown: Boston, Massachusetts
Song: “Tonight Comes Round Again”
Album: Handsome Ghost
Release Date: July 14th, 2023 (single); August 25, 2023 (album)
Label: Nettwerk Music Group

In Their Words: “Eddie and I were chatting through plans recently – tours, recording, etc. – and we realized that we’ve been making music together for over 10 years. Which, in band years, is more like a thousand, in my opinion. Most of the songs on our new record are about my life in music in one way or another. ‘Tonight Comes Round Again’ is about a time many years back, when we were in New York a lot. Neither one of us actually lived there, but we just kind of claimed it as our home base until there was a tour to do or a record to make. The song itself is about a brief relationship of mine during that time. She wanted casual, I wanted more – and frustration naturally ensued as we tried to make something work. It’s rich looking back on it now, given that I was hoping for something serious while I was crashing on couches every night.” – Tim Noyes


Photo Credit: Seb Keefe