Photos: Bob Weir and Wolf Brothers Lead Tornado Relief Benefit at Ryman

Bob Weir and Wolf Brothers turned their Nashville gig into a tornado relief concert and, yes, we are grateful for it. On Saturday night, Weir welcomed many special guests to the Ryman Auditorium stage, including Frankie Ballard, Jamey Johnson, Buddy Miller, Margo Price, and Mickey Raphael.

The primary charity partner for the event is The Middle Tennessee Emergency Response Fund of The Community Foundation. The organization collected a percentage of proceeds from ticket sales and providing a text-to-donate option for all patrons. Donate now.


All photos: Chad Crawford Photography

The String – The McCrary Sisters

The McCrary Sisters — Alfreda, Ann, Deborah, and Regina — grew up in Nashville in the home of legendary preacher and singer Reverend Sam McCrary, a key member of the Fairfield Four and a major figure in gospel music.

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They’ve sung, together and apart, on stages and in studios around the world. And they’ve become beloved anchors of roots music communities in Music City. After working with producer/artist Buddy Miller, they answered popular demand to form their own quartet, and after several albums through the 2010s, the McCrarys delivered their first Christmas album. It became a leaping off point for a joyful conversation about four remarkable lives in music.

Grace Potter Sets the Scene with Dramatic ‘Daylight’

Grace Potter possesses one of the most commanding voices in popular music — which is a good thing, because on Daylight she’s got something to say.

Potter co-wrote much of the new solo album with producer Eric Valentine, with whom she fell in love while still married to a member of her band — which is now broken up, too. After their divorces, Potter and Valentine married, started a family, and now live in Topanga Canyon, California.

The overwhelming emotions of these dramatic life changes are channeled into Daylight, with many of the songs written with Valentine, and on occasion, his longtime buddy Mike Busbee, who died in September.

“Love Is Love,” a potent opener to the project, grabbed immediate attention as the first single, but in this interview with BGS, Potter goes deeper into musical pathway that ultimately led her to Daylight.

“Release” is about the aftermath of the breakup. Who was the first person you played that for when you finished it?

Grace Potter: Eric. Busbee actually texted it to Eric but it was only half the song. Our voice recorder cut off before we finished. But he just wanted Eric to hear where we were at with the writing and Eric had to pull over the car because he was bawling listening to it. And Eric doesn’t cry easily. So that was a really important moment and one that I didn’t expect.

That song, I’d started it myself in the bathtub and it had sat in my voice memo bank for like a year and a half before Eric had heard it and was like, “Let’s not sleep on that one. Let’s pursue that and see where it goes.” Obviously it went and went and went and it’s definitely the one that gets under my skin, every time. It’s hard to play live actually.

And you’re setting yourself up as the character that set this all in motion, too.

Yeah. “I know that I caused this pain…” And that really is the full taking ownership and being accountable for your choices and knowing that those choices are not always this self-righteous, “I can do no wrong” thing. Humans are vulnerable. Humans do make mistakes. Humans change their mind. Lives and careers and happiness and financial fortitude – it all shifts and changes over the time that we live. And the more I’ve lived, the more I realize that it’s okay to give yourself permission, to be that vulnerable.

You quoted the opening line to “Release,” and the opening line on “Shout It Out” sets up that song’s storyline, too. I’ve always thought that those opening lines are something you do really well, but I didn’t realize until researching for this interview that you went to film school.

Oh yeah.

So I’m curious, do you think there’s a correlation there? Because when you make a movie, you have those establishing shots in the beginning, and in your songs you have those establishing opening lines.

And sometimes I like to mislead. I like that opening line to take you in, like, a Quentin Tarantino direction. But it’s actually like a Nora Ephron romance. But I really love storytelling. It’s the same thing I do when I’m writing my sets too. Every single song and every musical experience has to take you on an emotional journey. So there’s a launch point and there’s a revelation, which you know, within the first 20 minutes of a movie, you’re always supposed to basically set up the premise of the movie and potentially introduce one twist. For me, my life was full of so many twists while I was writing Daylight that it wasn’t hard.

After the Nocturnals ended, you had to start a band again. What’s an audition process like to be in your band?

I just want to be around people I like first. Then hopefully they’re good at music. For real. Life is too short to be in a band with people that don’t fit into your ethos or feel, or just don’t feel right. You get these feelings, you get a sense when you’re in a room with someone, if they suck the air out of the room and they have that negative energy, it really changes your entire life and your entire demeanor.

You can feel yourself going kind of gray. I call it the Eeyore effect. You know, it’s this “uhhhhh” feeling. So I generally avoid Eeyores. Although an occasional well-balanced, calm person who doesn’t talk all the time is a wonderfully welcomed part of the road because we can’t all be psychotic extroverts. It’s enough with just me and my baby. But I really enjoy finding musicians who specialize in something that’s just one step quirkier than what you would expect.

Busbee, what I loved about him was that not only was he an amazing songwriter, he played the trombone. Just randomly, like, “I studied trombone.” Really? Eliza Hardy Jones, my keyboard player and singer in my band, is a next level, Olympic champion quilter. Quilting is her thing. She’s actually got a huge show in 2020. She’s doing a massive exhibition in Nebraska at the quilt museum.

Our new drummer, Jordan West, was working for Roland demoing the audio equipment, but actually was hiding in plain sight for so many people. I was looking for a female drummer who could sing, or a female bass player who could sing, or a female guitarist who could sing. I just wanted two female voices that could do all the Lucius parts. So it was fitting the puzzle pieces together for me. Instead of auditioning a bunch of people saying, “I know exactly what I’m looking for,” I just waited until I found a flow of people that felt right. And if they happen to play an instrument I needed, then you’re hired.

Kurtis Keber, our bass player, who’s been with us since last year, came into our world through my previous drummer, Matt Musty, who is now out with Train. We miss him all the time, but these happy accidents happen where you find your people. I saw Kurtis the other day. I was like, “Kurtis, what are you doing? Are you in the studio?” He goes, “No, no, I’ve been building. I’m helping do some carpentry.” My longtime guitarist [Benny Yurco] is now becoming obsessed with recording and becoming one of those crazy studio guys — from the humble beginnings of not even using one guitar pedal to this mad scientist lab they have in Burlington, [Vermont] now.

I like jack-of-all-trades people who like doing lots of things. Those are the things that attract me to people. Their strangeness. Their idioms, their specific obsession with just the tiniest little thing. You know, loose leaf tea. You can talk for an hour and a half about loose leaf tea? I’m in, count me in.

I read the lineup of your Grand Point North festival this year and you did an acoustic set on that Sunday night. What is it about that presentation that you enjoy?

Well, Warren Haynes from Gov’t Mule has been a longtime collaborator and it’s been something that we have talked about doing because we share a joy of being musical and not really knowing what’s going to happen. And not having the stakes be so high that there’s an entire band behind you train wrecking. You know what I mean?

Usually you have to rehearse and really gain a mastery over every single song and arrangement, but when you’re doing an acoustic set, there’s so much freedom to explore. Warren’s musicality and my musicality are complementary to one another where we can take it in a lot of different directions and kind of wring out the towel different every night.

We’d done it a lot backstage and not in front of people, but we felt like it would be a cool thing to share because so many musicians, they just get out there and they run the Ferris wheel, they crank the thing up and they do the same show night after night. There’s been nine years of my festival. People have seen me play with my band. They’ve seen Warren play. He’s played three times in my festival. So I really wanted to treat the audience to a different experience.

Is part of that perspective because you went to a lot of festivals growing up?

Yeah. I came from the jam band world. Warren really ushered me into it. I was very much standing in the shadows of some amazingly talented people who paved the way for me. The festival circuit is really the only way that I was able to break out on my own and be noticed and stand out. I think it’s because of those festivals that I have the sense of diversity. I can take it in a lot of different directions and it’s more fun that way.

And if you’d go to a music festival, you’re going to hear seven, eight, ten genres of music in one place and love every single one of them. I think my instincts took me in that direction, to continue on in my career through creating in the moment, more than creating for a forever thing. …

I think none of my records have ever done my musicality justice because it’s like a high school photo album. It’s this one moment — and maybe it was a very manipulated moment that isn’t even the real reflection of what I was feeling in that moment. So Daylight was the opportunity to completely break that down, take away that premise, take away this idea of having to bottle lightning, and package it and sell it to the world. And instead have an experience. Be vulnerable and open to it and see where it takes you.

As you were talking about festivals, I was wondering, did you ever get an ear for bluegrass?

Absolutely. I grew up listening primarily to Appalachian and Celtic music, which have so many deep connections. And from my family’s record collection, I was obsessed with traditional English, Irish, and Scottish songwriting because the storytelling has these archetypes in it. It’s like the Brothers Grimm. There’s these really intense, very dark stories of women that are shape-shifting and there’s these evil goblins, and then they turn into a beautiful woman. This is a combination of fantasy and reality and love and lust and danger and war. There’s all these amazing cinematic storytelling moments in those songs.

So I grew up around that, but then bluegrass came into my world because in the festival scene, there was so much crossover. I got to meet and be in a songwriter circle early on in 2006 with Béla Fleck, Chris Thile, Jim Lauderdale, and Buddy Miller. It was such a cool lineup, pulling all these people together from all these walks of life and just playing. And it was very humbling. It made me realize I got to get my shit together, my instrumentation, because these guys know how to hold it down.

I understand that you’ve moved from Vermont to Topanga Canyon, which must’ve made your inner hippie very happy.

Oh man! My inner hippie became my outer hippie. I walked to the store two days ago in a pirate shirt with a Burberry trench coat, sweatpants, Doc Martens, and a flower crown. And I didn’t even think about it until somebody sent me a photo of it and I was like, “I did what?” That was just my usual day-to-day getup. That’s Topanga. I live and breathe that lifestyle and those people really get me.

It’s a real community too. It’s a small, small group of people. And again, I think the thing I’ve been finding that I want in life is accountability. And in a big city like L.A., you can hit someone with your car, drive away and never see them again and not really ever worry about getting caught. But if I, or anyone in town, sees anything out of the ordinary, we check in on each other. That’s how tight-knit we are, and how much we care about one another. And it’s a really, really wonderful community to be a part of.

What do you hope that fans will take away from the 2020 version of Grace Potter on tour?

You know, everything about my life has been unexpected, even to me, so I certainly can’t tell people what to expect yet because I just — every bit of it has been this ride. And as I’ve gone on as a musician, I realized that my favorite part of being a musician is inviting people into that ride with me. Instead of presenting them with a packaged thing, that is what it is, I don’t know what it is! I don’t know how this is all going to work. I’ve got a baby now and my life has fundamentally changed in so many ways. I can’t wait to see how it manifests onstage. I guarantee you there will still be headbanging, that’s for sure!


Photo credit: Pamela Neal

Shawn Colvin Still Going ‘Steady On’ With 30th Anniversary Acoustic Album

Shawn Colvin’s new album will be intimately familiar to fans who have loved her from the start. To commemorate the 30th anniversary of her landmark debut album, Steady On, Colvin re-recorded the full album acoustically – and she’s posing on the cover with the same guitar strap she wore on the back of the original packaging, too.

Since her auspicious arrival on the scene, Colvin has sold millions of albums and won multiple Grammys, including her first one for Steady On, in the category of Best Contemporary Folk Recording. If you’ve seen her perform over the last 30 years, you’ve certainly heard these songs — “Shotgun Down the Avalanche,” “Diamond in the Rough,” and “Ricochet in Time,” among them. She invited BGS for a hotel room conversation while she was in Nashville for AmericanaFest, where she’s performing the album in its entirety.

BGS: When you went into these sessions, were you hoping to capture a certain sound for this version of Steady On?

SC: No, just an acoustic tone, a stripped-down, non-produced, sort of bare-bones rendition of the songs.

Because you’re so familiar with these songs, were you able to work pretty quickly?

Even though I co-wrote a lot of them with John Leventhal, he would give me pieces of production and I thought, the way I need to figure out how to write is to strip all this production down to just me and a guitar. Almost every song on the record began that way. I stripped it down. It’s the beginning of what became the produced version of Steady On.

I was curious if you wrote most of those songs on the same guitar.

Oh, I think so, yeah. The Martin D-28.

What is it about that guitar that suits you so well?

I bought that guitar in 1974, and it was a 1971. I was 18 and it was my dream to have a Martin guitar. I think I paid $400 for it. And it was just my guitar. I mean, that was a big deal for me to spend that kind of money. I played that guitar on the road I don’t even know how many years. I still have it. It’s pretty beaten up. And I retired it, but yes, in 1988 or ’87 whenever that was, that’s the guitar I was still using.

How many songs had you written up into the songs that were on Steady On?

Maybe three or four.

Wow. So these are some of your earliest songs.

Oh, yeah.

That’s pretty remarkable.

Well, I wasn’t really a songwriter. I wanted to be and I practiced at it, writing lyrics to John’s fully-produced pieces, which were really pop. And I love pop music, but I wasn’t very good at writing lyrics to it. You know, my heroes were all singer-songwriters from the late ‘60s and early ‘70s, Joni Mitchell in particular. Very personal stuff, and that’s not what I had been writing. I realized, I think I have my own story to tell and I opened up to that and then I liked what I was doing.

Were you living in New York at the time?

Yeah.

How did that city shape you as an artist, do you think?

Oh gosh, the city shaped me personally and artistically in a huge way. I underwent a lot of personal changes there, a lot of growing up, a lot of waking up. It’s a dose, as Levon Helm said in The Last Waltz. But I met people I’m still friends with to this day that really nurtured me in my 20s and helped me grow up. My best friend Stokes is still there in New York that I met in 1980. And the music scene was so rich!

I started out in Buddy Miller’s country band. That’s how I got to New York. He hired me to come sing because Julie had left the band. And he needed another, what we called then, girl singer. So I was in a band like that. I played solo acoustic at places like The Cottonwood Cafe and The Bitter End and I did anything I could make a buck at. I was also in a country band with Soozie Tyrell. I did rockabilly bands.

We were just putting together bands piecemeal, you know “Hey, can you make this gig?” Everybody was up for whatever, all the musicians, and you cobbled together a band from gig to gig, whatever you could get, just whatever we could do. So I learned a lot. I played a lot, which is part of my advice to anybody who might want it,who is a young up-and-comer. Play live. Just do it and do it and do it, you know? I think it makes you confident and good and better your craft and you learn. You’re a student.

What was your live show like at that time? Was it just you and the Martin, singing solo acoustic?

Yeah.

You were never intimidated by that?

Nobody ever listened.

What do you mean?

When I was doing bar bands four hours a night in the city, sometimes they did. That was the goal, to play well enough that maybe someone would listen. It’s where I developed this percussive guitar style that I have, because I thought, what can I do to make it sound like more instruments and do something a little bit different? So I made more noise that way. Sort of a rhythmic thing.

I think of that as your signature sound because I haven’t seen a lot of artists doing that.

And that came partly from Joni Mitchell, who made progressive, clicky sounds on the guitar. And I always thought she was using the back of her hand to go against the strings, this fleshy part of your thumb in the back of your hand. I realized later she was using her nails against the strings to give that click. But I developed it my own way.

As a new artist, how did you find your audience? Or how did your audience find you?

I started to make a name for myself a little bit down the Eastern seaboard, Cambridge and DC, New York, and some other areas in Massachusetts, and Philadelphia. So I was getting finally to play listening rooms rather than bars. I had a little bit of a draw. I got to go on college radio stations and they would play cassettes of mine. It was really helpful, especially in Cambridge, so I got some fans that way that weren’t just the New York people. Then when I put out the record, I wasn’t prepared it for what was going to happen. It was on Columbia Records and it was time for the big push. I’m like, “Sure, no problem.” And it was a grassroots global push. So that meant drive-time and morning radio shows, if they’d have me.

And God bless the label reps in all these different cities, which you don’t have anymore. Their job was to take you around the radio and try to get them to listen to you. And they had a reputation so they could usually get you in. Whether the radio station was really interested or not was always sort of up in the air. And then I would do press, anybody that would talk to me, a magazine and a paper — local, big, small, whatever, other radio if I could — and then I’d do a show at night. Sometimes there were 10 people. And I did that a lot. It was a groundswell, I guess you could call it. Radio stations did start picking up songs from the album. And next thing you know, I’d go back to a town like Boulder and people would come.

That is grassroots for real.

Oh yeah, for real. But you know, those people that have been with me from the beginning have stayed. I have a loyal following. It’s fantastic, yeah.

When Steady On was released in 1989, how did you define success at that time? What did success mean to you?

I remember being in Boulder and I had a day off and I like to ski. I was in a rental car and I was driving to… I can’t remember if it was Keystone, someplace close to Boulder, and I heard myself on the radio and I almost went off the road. That was to me a measure of success. Then the Grammy Award of course was pretty cool. Who could have thought that up?

How do you define success now?

I’d say first and foremost, if I write a song that I like, that’s the best feeling. It’s gotten harder to do for me. There’s less time, because there’s so much roadwork. Less drama in my life, to force me to the paper. There’s really not a better feeling than finishing a song. Writing is hard, but the fact that I can still sell tickets, that’s success to me. Not everybody’s in that position. I think those two things — and I can still do it. Physically I can still play and sing as well, in my opinion, as I ever have. So it’s kind of longevity and luck.


Photo credit: Deidre Schoo

MIXTAPE: Wild Ponies’ Favorite Duos

Ah, the mixtape. Playlists. Songs. BGS asked us to do a mixtape and we decided it would be fun to ‘mix’ it up with a bunch of our favorite duos. A lot of them we just pulled off of our Wild Ponies Friends and Neighbors playlist. The hard part was narrowing it down. We threw in a few ringers who aren’t really our friends or neighbors — but we wish they were. There are so many ways to present music. We love a great big band, a power trio, a solitary soul with an acoustic guitar…

But there’s really something special about two voices working together, spiraling into that rare space that makes the whole room levitate. There’s a push and twist. If you’re at a show you can see it in the performers’ eyes when it locks in and happens. But if you can’t be at the show the next best thing is to close your eyes and just listen to the music. If you sit real still you might even be able to levitate at home, just a little. It’s worth a try. — Doug and Telisha Williams, Wild Ponies

Stacey Earle and Mark Stuart – “Next Door Down”

Oh, y’all, where do we even start with Stacey and Mark? We would not be making the mixtape or probably even be in Nashville without the support and love of these two. We picked “Next Door Down” from Simple Girl, because it was this release that began our love affair with Stacey and Mark. I’m pretty sure we can still play each and every song on that record!

Gillian Welch & David Rawlings – “Annabelle”

Well, our first dog was named Annabelle, after this song. That’s just how much we love Gillian, Dave, and this record.

Buddy & Julie Miller – “Keep Your Distance”

We’re so excited about Buddy and Julie’s new record, but we reached back in time a little on this one. When I listen to this song (by Richard Thompson?), Buddy and Julie’s influence on Wild Ponies’ sound is so evident.

Porter Wagoner and Dolly Parton – “Put It Off Until Tomorrow”

Oh, Porter and Dolly, one of the original duos. Each of them is such a talent, but together, there is magic — a third, indescribable element that elevates the song,

John Prine and Iris Dement – “In Spite of Ourselves”

Come on, John Prine AND Iris Dement. Our love for both of these superstars runs deep, but the blend of their quirky authenticity is stunning.

The Louvin Brothers – “My Baby’s Gone”

There’s nothing like family harmony. We were lucky enough to get to know Charlie Louvin later in his life, and the stories he shared about singing with his brother were slightly terrifying and beautiful. All the years after Ira’s death, Charlie could still hear Ira’s voice and his part every time he sang. The way that they could seamlessly switch parts and cross each other’s lines is something that maybe only those that share blood can accomplish.

Wild Ponies – “Hearts and Bones”

Singing this song live each night has become a favorite spot in our set. There’s something in the intimacy of our vocals — even just the “ooohs.” It almost feels like we’re sharing something that the audience shouldn’t be allowed to see.

Robby Hecht and Caroline Spence – “A Night Together”

Robby and Caroline are both amazing singers and songwriters. Two of our favorites in Nashville, right now. This duet record is absolutely stunning. I hope there’s another coming.

Conway Twitty and Loretta Lynn – “Easy Loving”

This song was released before I was born, but feels like the soundtrack to my childhood. I think I can even smell the chicken casserole cooking in the oven.

The Everly Brothers – “All I Have to Do Is Dream”

This is what every duo wants to sound like. Period. Anyone who tells you different is either lying or they’ve never actually heard this track.

Freddy and Francine – “Half a Mind”

I’m so happy that Lee and Bianca (aka Freddy and Francine) are in Nashville now. Their show and sound is amazing! Don’t those tight, powerful harmonies make you want to move?!

The Sea The Sea – “Love We Are We Love”

I challenge you to pick out who is singing what part with these two. Chuck and Mira’s voices blend so beautifully together, that it’s easy for me to get lost somewhere in the space between.

The White Stripes – “In the Cold, Cold Night”

Bad. Ass. The White Stripes make me want to break all the rules. This is such a cool track, because it’s mostly just Meg’s voice and Jack’s guitar. I guess not technically a duet, but it still feels like one. So intimate and creepy.

Anana Kaye – “Blueberry Fireworks”

Anana and Irakli are just weird and cool. Their writing is so big and theatrical. I love what they do. You should really go see them live — you can’t look away. They’re so good.

Waylon Jennings & Willie Nelson – “Pick up the Tempo”

Similar to the Conway and Loretta tune, this sounds like my childhood, only this time the smell is my daddy’s truck instead of chicken casserole.


Photo credit: Rob Hanning

Buddy & Julie Miller Get Back on Track With ‘Breakdown on 20th Ave. South’

There’s a bit of dramatic license baked in to the title of Buddy & Julie Miller’s new album Breakdown On 20th Ave. South. The wheels are not coming off this epic 35-year marriage, most of which has been spent on that very street in Nashville’s Belmont neighborhood. But the long haul doesn’t come without strife and tests, as older married folks know. And when a songwriter as unguardedly emotional as Julie Miller began to express her feelings about being sidelined during the busiest-ever stretch of Buddy’s long and fruitful career, the results were bound to be provocative.

“We started out writing a record and my brother died right in the middle of it and I just sort of fell apart,” said Julie in late May in an interview in the home in question. “And I had fibromyalgia, so combine the two, and you’re not good to go. I just sort of went to pieces. So Buddy went and made a living.”

“And I kind of shut her down in some ways,” Buddy said. “I took that opportunity, which I shouldn’t have done, away from her to make Universal United House of Prayer at that time and then took every gig that came along for the next 12 or 13 years. She was kind of put on…”

“I took care of dogs,” Julie said with a wistful laugh.

Thus the songs on Breakdown — songs of yearning, of incompleteness and the striving for connection — have that specific power that comes from being both personal and universal.

Buddy Miller has been as in demand as any musician in Americana for more than a decade. He produced stellar albums for Richard Thompson, Shawn Colvin & Steve Earle, and others. He steered the music on the television show Nashville for multiple seasons. He hosts a radio show for SiriusXM with Jim Lauderdale. It’s evidence of the respect and the singular place Buddy has carved out since picking up the guitar in the early ‘70s and heading to the ferment of Austin, Texas.

That’s where he met Julie Griffin, and soon he was auditioning for her band and then for her hand. Julie recorded a handful of solo albums for a Christian music label in the ‘90s, and Buddy’s been releasing music nearly as long. Yet when the Millers started to focus on recording as a unit, the results have been particularly spectacular. Their self-titled duo debut in 2001 earned the Americana Music Association’s first-ever Album of the Year award. Eight years later Written in Chalk took the same honor, though Buddy concedes that was part of the difficult time for Julie and it was not truly a 50/50 creation.

If anything, Breakdown is a Julie-dominated project, written by her on her timetable, recorded over a long stretch in unusual circumstances. That’s where we pick up our conversation with the first couple of Americana music.

Buddy: After [Nashville] was over we just spent time together, just sitting together watching TV, something we’d never done before — or for a long time. Then slowly, we started approaching music at her speed, whatever that was. When we started recording, we didn’t record it in here [his much-admired home studio on the main floor]. We recorded in a little corner of the bedroom. She’d write a song and I’d slowly bring up little pieces of gear and something to record on — a laptop. Instead of live players we’d just play the two of us and build tracks.

BGS: Were you trying to sort of trick yourselves into recording, instead of the full production with everybody coming over at a set time?

Julie: Exactly! It was like, let’s pretend we’re not really doing it. We’re just having fun!

Buddy: We would say we’re not doing a record. We were getting the songs recorded but we would never say we’re doing a record. But we like how it sounded. … I want to look at somebody if I’m making a record. I love playing with players and having a drummer to look at and play off of. And upstairs I was looking in the dog’s face this far from me. But it was a really great experience doing that.

Julie, respecting your privacy, what can you say about your fibromyalgia and how you’ve been feeling lately?

Julie: Well I’ve had it since 1978 maybe — a really long time — more than half my life. And you get sort of used to a certain amount because it’s always there. But it gives you wallops now and then. And being on the road with fibromyalgia is such stress. It’s indescribable. And Buddy, because I’d always been heave ho you know, he didn’t get it. I could say it, but it didn’t click. Which is understandable. You have to be sick to get it, you really do. It’s progressively gotten more painful over the years, so it’s pretty painful at this point. But I’m never pessimistic about it. God will do something. The medical professional will acknowledge something.

I understand that’s a big challenge of this disease — getting validation from doctors.

Julie: It was incredible how many years I had it with doctors going ‘I guess you’re crazy’ in so many words. And that was making it twice as bad. You know good and well you’re in pain and you’re crying and you’re not crazy – or maybe you are crazy, but crazy people can be in pain, too. [Laughs]

Is there a connection between music making and the creative headspace, and feeling relief?

Julie: You know what? That’s interesting you’d say that because when I was writing I could focus on one thing. I could focus on the writing or the fibromyalgia. And I was just lost in the writing, so I was oblivious to so much — [to] a degree of my fibromyalgia. It made me realize I was meant to write songs.

Was there a stretch when you were estranged from the writing process?

Julie: There was a long time I was estranged from it. In fact, ten years or more after we’d signed with New West and I’d gotten sick and my brother had passed, I thought they were done with me. And Buddy said, ten years later, “No they’re just waiting for a record!” I was like what? They’re willing to take a record now? “Yeah, they’re just waiting for it.” So I was so excited. And ten years before I had written a lot of songs for the record, but they didn’t make it on this record. In fact the songs I wrote for this record didn’t make it. Accidentally other songs came that ended up on the record, so I’ve got a lot of songs.

Buddy: We started with a whole different list. When we knew we were working on a record, the list would change on a weekly basis because she’d write a new song. And it’s just the two of us working, and it’s hard to have a perspective on what we’re doing when it’s just one bouncing it off the other. She’d write a song and we’d record it that day.

So you have a lot of work tapes and demos.

Julie: Oh, you wouldn’t ever want to ever hear ‘em! There are so many of ‘em that you’d lose your mind.

Buddy: And some of them are on the record.

Julie: For the first six years, from 18 to 24, I’d try to write a song and I’d get so disgusted with how bad it was, I’d write it and throw it in the trash. But after I came to know the Lord… Here’s what the big thing was with him — he loved me and accepted me whether my song was good or not, and that enabled me to learn how to write a song.

Was getting involved with HighTone Records in the ‘90s a real pivot point?

Julie: Well it was really funny because Christians didn’t really like my music! [Laughs]

Buddy: There was that too — I meant to say that! That’s one reason it was easy to get out of it, because they didn’t get it at all.

Julie: They kind of let me go, and off I went, and the next people who wanted me to sign up were some Jews from San Francisco! So I just did it, you know? They heard me sing harmony on Buddy’s record. They got Buddy first, and then they got me and so that’s how it happened. I mean, I didn’t leave Christian music. I just went with who wanted me.

Buddy: Yeah, I was playing guitar with Jim Lauderdale. We all met when he moved to New York around 1980. Jim was working in the Rolling Stone mail room and we were all playing together. We moved to LA and I called Lauderdale and I said, “If you need a guitar player let me know,” and that’s when I got back into playing with Jim. HighTone asked Jim if he would do a track on this Points West record [a 1990 compilation of West Coast country music]. He said, “I can’t, but my guitar player would probably do it for you.”

So I did a couple tracks for them and based on that, a couple years later after we moved to Nashville, they must have had a hole in their release schedule, and they asked if I could do a record. I said, “Absolutely, yes.” They said “Do you have the songs?” I said, “Absolutely.” And we didn’t, at all. [Julie laughs] But we got that record together in a pretty quick time. Then they heard Julie singing on a song called “Hole in My Head” on that record that I wrote with Jim. Larry Sloven, who owned the company along with Bruce Bromberg heard her, and he said, “She sounds tough. She’s great.” He liked her voice.

Julie: [Laughing] Just a sweet little girl and they said I sounded tough. I’ll never understand it.

Buddy: At that point, Emmylou Harris had cut Julie’s song, “All My Tears,” on Wrecking Ball, so they knew she was a writer, and they said, “Would she want to do a record?” That was shortly after my first record, I think, and she was happy about it at the time at the time.

Julie: Very happy!

Buddy: They were really supportive. One thing we got with HighTone — and we probably got it because they had no budget so they had no oversight, and we made our records at home — we just turned in a finished record. There was nobody looking over our shoulder. There was no A&R department. They were just encouragers who had hopefully come up with a tiny budget, and they were really good folks over there, in that respect, and they gave us freedom to make whatever kind of records we wanted to make.


This interview was recorded for WMOT’s talk show The String. The full conversation can be streamed here.

Illustration by Zachary Johnson
Photo credit: Kate York

Artist of the Month: Buddy & Julie Miller

Buddy & Julie Miller have assembled one of Nashville’s most satisfying songwriting catalogs — and although their songs have been covered by a multitude of artists, there is something undeniably ethereal about hearing them sing together. As our Artist of the Month in July, Buddy and Julie continue to prove they’ve still got it. Don’t miss “I’m Gonna Make You Love Me” and “Secret” from their latest album, Breakdown on 20th Avenue South, in the playlist below. And check back later this month for much more content, including our in-depth BGS interview.


Illustration: Zachary Johnson

The String – Buddy and Julie Miller

They’ve each had distinguished careers as songwriters and musicians in American roots music, but together they’re especially sublime.

LISTEN: APPLE PODCASTS

Buddy and Julie Miller met in Austin in the 70s and pursued careers in New York and Los Angeles before moving to Nashville almost 30 years ago. Both of their prior duo albums were deemed best of the by the Americana Music Association. Now, following a remarkably busy period for Buddy, the two found their way back to working together, and the result is the new Breakdown On 20th Ave. South from New West Records. It will be one of the landmarks of 2019, and Craig sat down at the Millers’ home to talk about two magical, interwoven lives in music.

LISTEN: Clare Bowen, “Tide Rolls In”

Artist: Clare Bowen
Hometown: South Coast, New South Wales, Australia
Song: “Tide Rolls In” (featuring Buddy Miller)
Album: Clare Bowen
Release Date: July 12, 2019
Label: BMG

In Their Words: “‘Tide Rolls In’ is about people and things that seemed like a good idea at the time. We’ve all put our love in the wrong place at some point — my romantic career before I met my sweet, wonderful husband Brandon was a proverbial train wreck, with napalm on top. Brandon and I have the most incredible love story that people ask me about all the time, and I want everyone to know that we didn’t just find each other immediately. It started with self love, for both of us. If you’ve made dreadful romantic choices in the past, you’re not damaged goods, like I thought I was — you are a beautiful, unique creature who deserves to be loved so very much. Especially by your own heart.” — Clare Bowen


Photo Courtesy of Activist Artist Management

LISTEN: Buddy & Julie Miller, “Til The Stardust Comes Apart” + “You Make My Heartbeat Too Fast (Live)”

Artist: Buddy & Julie Miller
Hometown: Nashville, Tennessee
Songs: “Til The Stardust Comes Apart” + “You Make My Heartbeat Too Fast (Live)”
Album: Breakdown on 20th Ave. South
Release Date: 7″ single, June 7, 2019; album, June 21, 2019
Label: New West Records

In Their Words: “We’ve been together for almost 40 years… and although sometimes a bumpy ride, it looks like our love is going to stick. ‘Til The Stardust Comes Apart’ is one of those songs that fell out of the sky…quickly and literally. We often have a television tuned to history or science documentaries and heard of a recent study finding that we actually have stardust in us as old as the universe. Astrophysicist-author Karel Schrijver put it this way: ‘Everything we are and everything in the universe and on earth originated from stardust, and it continually floats through us even today. It directly connects us to the universe, rebuilding our bodies over and again over our lifetimes.’ Julie wrote the song after the show ended.

“‘You Make My Heart Beat Too Fast’ recorded live, not sure when or where or why…… possibly The Bottom Line in NYC or Slim’s in San Francisco. It was fun to play and different every night. Bryan Owings on drums, Rick Plant on bass.” — Buddy Miller


Photo credit: Kate York