Alison Brown: Record Label Founder and Bluegrass “Lifer”

When a craftsman pauses to reflect, students of all skill levels benefit from the lesson. Alison Brown’s latest album, On Banjo, released May 5 on Compass Records and is a masterclass; it’s also a study on where the instrument has been and where it’s going.

Brown is a Compass co-founder and a GRAMMY Award-winning artist and producer. A self-described “lifer” in the bluegrass community and an IBMA “First Lady of Bluegrass,” she eagerly explores what the five-stringed instrument can do outside typical genre parameters. The new record is packed with star-studded duets with comedian Steve Martin, mandolin player and fellow First Lady of Bluegrass Sierra Hull, and fiddle legend Stuart Duncan.

The result is a varied, rich track list we couldn’t wait to ask Brown about.

BGS: Let’s walk through some of the tracks and collaborations on On Banjo. What kind of music inspired the duet with Anat Cohen?

AB: Anat Cohen is a clarinetist; she was born in Israel and lives in New York, but she’s well-known in jazz circles for Brazilian choro. I actually watched lots of videos of Anat on YouTube.

I reached out. I said “I know we don’t know each other, but would you consider doing this?”

What’s it like working with a famous comedian like Steve Martin in a musical context?

I’ve had the good fortune to go out and do some shows with him and Martin Short. There’s inevitably some time to jam in the dressing room, so it’s fun to play with Steve in that context, too.

Steve’s a great banjo player with a really beautiful touch and a delicate, sweet tone. He loves playing in double C tuning. Banjo players usually tune to a G, but you can drop the fourth string to a C and tune the second [string] up to a C. It’s an old tuning that clawhammer guys use a lot.

The way “Foggy Mountain Breaking,” came about is I wrote the A section. It was during the pandemic. I asked Steve, “Do you wanna write a B part?” He sent me a perfect B section 24 hours later. We figured out a bridge together. It’s named after a lyric in a John Hartford song and is obviously a riff on “Foggy Mountain Breakdown.”

How does it feel to work with younger bluegrass talents like Sierra Hull? Is it gratifying to have a feminine duo on that track?

I wrote that tune hoping Sierra would be up for learning and recording it with me. I’m a huge fan of her mandolin playing; she’s another one with such a delicate touch. Her fingers just really dance over the fingerboard.

It required her to play every fret on the first string of the mandolin and she did it flawlessly. She said she’d never had a chance to work on such complicated music with another woman. So it’s a really special thing. It’s always a delight to play with Sierra, but to do a duet with her was like chocolate and more chocolate.

How do you balance two strong, independent main instruments like banjo and fiddle together, such as with Stuart Duncan?

Banjo and fiddle are just so complementary. They say a banjo and fiddle make a band, and they do.

I’ve known Stuart since he was 11 and I was 12. We go way back. And on this tune I want to give a tip of the hat to Byron Berline and John Hickman. Growing up in Southern California when we did in the ’70s, those two were the guys that everybody worshiped at the feet of. I wanted to try and capture some of that spirit, and I wanted to do it with Stuart.

Who is this album for, and what do you hope listeners take away from it?

That’s the existential question of the banjo player. And it is a bit of a challenge when you take the five-string banjo and go somewhere else with it. Earl Scruggs perpetuated a style and brought it to the masses that was just so electric. Most people think that’s all the banjo does and they don’t worry about its history before that. There’s a lot of voices inside the instrument; the bluegrass one has become the loudest one most recently.

It’s so interesting because at the beginning of the 1800s the banjo was found on plantations. Then white people appropriated that music in minstrel shows, performing in blackface. It’s deep in terms of what it says about our history and America’s original sin.
It went from being a Black instrument to being a white lady’s instrument. The Black voice of the instrument and the female voice of the instrument were both disenfranchised. There are gorgeous old photos of women in the 1890s holding banjos, and there were female banjo orchestras. I’m excited to see that re-emerging.

You started Compass Records with Garry West almost three decades ago. What’s on the horizon, and what are your goals?

All the labels were run by business people, not musicians. We said, “Why can’t musicians run a label for other artists?”

The other part is really wanting to build a label that can have a cultural impact and Garry and I are both invested in roots music. I’ve been a member of the bluegrass community since about 10 years old. I’m a lifer. The whole economy of the record business has been turned upside down and stirred and shaken eight times. We want to make sure this music not only survives but thrives into the future.

You mentioned growing up in SoCal. How is bluegrass there different from Appalachia?

There would be Eagles’ songs in set lists. It was wide open. When I first came east with Stuart and his dad, we drove around and did the festivals in 1978 or so, but it was rooted in the first generation bands’ repertoire.

On that trip we entered a band contest in Oklahoma and we played something we learned from a Richard Green record. It was a funky fiddle thing in E. I remember somebody coming up afterwards and saying “We don’t appreciate you knocking the music.”

What did you learn while making On Banjo?

The deep dive to find new melodies, and that process of discovery of the instrument, is the process of self-discovery. You get to the end and it teaches you something new about yourself.


Photo Credit: Russ Harrington

WATCH: ISMAY, “Stranger In the Barn”

Artist: ISMAY
Hometown: Petaluma, CA
Song: “Stranger In the Barn”
Album: Desert Pavement
Release Date: May 25, 2023 (video)
Label: Ismay Music

In Their Words: “‘Stranger In the Barn’ depicts a child living on a farm who goes to do chores in the morning, when they encounter a man sleeping in the barn. After running to their parents, the family has to make a decision about how to confront him – should they attack the man and chase him away? They decide to offer him food and drink, and he makes his way on to the grange hall down the road. The story is about taking down our walls, and rather than meeting the unknown with contempt and anger, instead offering curiosity.” – ISMAY


Photo Credit: Aubrey Trinnaman

BGS 5+5: Jim and Sam

Artist: Jim and Sam
Hometown: Santa Monica, California
Latest Album: Good on the Other Side
Personal Nicknames (Or Rejected Band Names): Jamantha, Double Lives, JS, Jim Hanft and Samantha Yonack, Sim Jam, The Dialogues

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

Before shows we do this “improv shake out” sort of thing where we both shake each of our limbs energetically 10 times while counting out loud while facing each other — and after we get through both legs and arms we count and shake to 9 and then 8 and so on. By the end it usually wakes us both up and we’re smiling feeling like idiots and totally loosened up to get on stage. I’m not sure, but I think it’s something Sam learned at acting school and she introduced it to me before one show where I was feeling a bit insecure and nervous to go on stage… and it worked. Since then we do it almost every time. It only gets weird if there are other people in the green room; however, usually people end up joining in. — Jim

Yes we shake our limbs but mainly we avoid each other. Jim goes and looks for a coffee and people to talk with, while I look for a room with no one in it to have a little quiet and get grounded. Our energies are opposite and we would make each other nuts… so right up until we go on… we usually take a little space. Then we shake. — Sam

If you had to write a mission statement for your career, what would it be?

SHOW UP FULLY… In 2017 we played one show every day for a year, and on the days where a show was canceled or we couldn’t book a show we would have to find a show. It was those impromptu shows that taught us that whether you’re in a beautiful ornate theater in Brussels performing to a sold-out audience or a dingy liquor store in London performing for the cashier, if you don’t show up it doesn’t matter, you may as well have stayed at home — but if you show up, if you’re fully present with the song, the room, the moment and the people or person you’re playing for, magic can happen. When we finished the tour we spent the following year making our film After So Many Days. It was during that process that we were reminded of the importance of showing up to the storytelling, the editing, and the music for the film. We now carry this with us wherever we are in the process of whatever we are creating at the moment.

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

Throughout our year-long tour, we kept receiving the same advice from strangers to “keep going.” We still hear many of those voices in our heads on the days when not picking up the guitar or sitting at the piano feels easier than muscling through a hard day. A friend of ours also just shared advice he heard that a career is sort of like a brick wall, and the work you do whether it’s a song, album or a tour it’s all just a brick in a wall that you’re building… so don’t be too precious about one thing as long as it’s placed level with enough mortar, it’s really just a piece or a moment of a larger work of art.

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

A lot of the songs on our most recent album were written during the first few months with our daughter, Hazel. The quiet walks with her in Temescal Canyon became a weekly ritual for us that always seemed to ground and reinspire us… similarly to the way a walk or hike while traveling on tour would always bring us back to earth. We are also lucky enough to live a few blocks from the beach and early in the morning we would walk her and our dog Pico down to the water to listen to the waves crash while the rest of the city was still asleep. The consistency of the waves (and the consistency that she has brought into our lives) is something that I think we were craving as two people that spent so many years touring. During these morning walks, Hazel would often fall asleep in her stroller. When we got home, we’d park her in the corner of the living room and use the remainder of her naps to write.

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

I lost my dad to a tragic accident when I was 20. Up until that point I had written funny songs to try to make people laugh. It was when my father was in a coma that I turned to the guitar and to my notebook to express what I was feeling, and what the people closest to me were feeling. I recorded a demo of a song that I shared with my mom and friends and they connected and reacted to it in a way that I had never felt before. The song was then played for my dad on the final mixtape he heard in the hospital and then again at the funeral. From that point on, music has been a place I have always turned to when feelings have gotten too big to say or too big to just feel. — Jim

For as long as I can remember there was always music in my house. My dad was constantly playing the piano and writing my favorite songs. I would sit next to him and sing along… and eventually we would write songs together. He told me recently that he remembers when we recorded one of the first songs we wrote together at a studio… I poked my head out of the booth and said, “Dad, I really like this.” My mom was also a performer when she was younger so I was introduced to theater pretty early, too. I think the combination of all of it just created an innate desire to create that never went away. — Sam


Photo Credit: Mike Zwahlen

LISTEN: Angelica Rockne, “Crystalline”

Artist: Angelica Rockne
Hometown: Corralitos, California
Song: “Crystalline”
Album: The Rose Society
Release Date: May 5, 2023
Label: Fluff and Gravy Records / Loose Music

In Their Words: “I wrote ‘Crystalline’ (along with the title track) after a breakup while living in Oakland. Things felt disorienting, a feeling I had come to know well, with my constant movement. Any time I’ve found myself living in a city, I know it’s only a matter of months before I’ll have to retreat somewhere expansive once more. So I try to take it in as much as I can: the old punk house with folks passing through from their freight train circuit, the jazz club where I waitressed, the art groups I posed for. I’m always looking for unrelated worlds I can peer my head into for novelty and because I’m allergic to inertia. Sonically I feel like ‘Crystalline’ is a traveler’s song with its constant percussion and fluid piano, while lyrically it explores the landscape of an abstract mind. At the core, it’s about purification — love and thoughts that could become crystalline. There is a confluence of narratives: one in which the patriarchy is dissolved; another about a friend who’s in prison, speaking to their experience. These themes merge and arrive at a sense of inner freedom.” — Angelica Rockne

Fluff and Gravy Records · Angelica Rockne – Crystalline

Photo Credit: Elisabeth Kokesh

BGS 5+5: Autumn Sky Hall

Artist: Autumn Sky Hall (she/her/they/them)
Hometown: Sacramento, California; now New Cumberland, Pennsylvania
Latest Album: While We’re Here EP
Personal Nicknames: My nickname’s Otto 🙂

What’s your favorite memory from being on stage?

The year I wrote “I Woke Up,” a song inspired by getting into a lot of Heart that year, we played before them at BottleRock. We had no idea it was gonna happen until we got there that day to play, and their gear boxes were behind our gear. I was absolutely beside myself. I don’t remember that show, set or day AT ALL, I was OVERWHELMED with joy. My entire body just buzzin’ and beaming and shooting lightning bolts of glee. Crying. Zero regrets. If y’all are reading this, I love y’all!

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

I’m a person who’s annoyingly sensitive to being in new places, so I bring things to ground me. Everywhere I go, I have the same orange-smelling room spray I use. I bring my blanket from home. I have the same picks from my house, names of friends back home signed on my guitar case, a pin that says “Lord of the Strings” so I can remind myself of Lord of the Rings, my first happy place as a kid. I also like to be alone for at least a good half an hour so I can do some breathing before I feel like myself. It’s all really important to me so I approach the set in the right frame of mind and bring the right vibes. I’m always in the back taping flowers to things, humming, having a blast, feeling at home.

If you had to write a mission statement for your career, what would it be?

I hate to see marginalized folks being pitted against each other. It makes my heart hurt. Folks struggling with discrimination already have to struggle more and have less access, I think they shouldn’t have to ask or be made to jump through hoops to be pulled to the front and given spotlights. Your art, like you, is already worth existing.

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

It absolutely kills me that this is true, but as someone who’s just okay without practice and so much better with practice, you have to practice. Annoying, right? I’m so sorry.

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

I love to take unfinished songs out on a little song walk by the river, where no one can make fun of me vibing and singing it over and over a hundred times, trying to get into the feel and mood and think of something to add to the harmonies, or to sing along and add a bridge. It allows me to clear my brain and really listen to my narrative voice. I’m more honest, and also more kind, to myself there. It just puts me in the mood I want most to write songs from. Realistic but not bitter, truthful but not cruel. Carefree but not careless.


Photo Credit: Rebecca Crowther

LISTEN: Wolf Jett, “Fare Thee Well” (Ft. AJ Lee)

Artist: Wolf Jett
Hometown: Santa Cruz Mountains, California
Song: “Fare Thee Well” (ft. AJ Lee)
Release Date: April 11, 2023
Label: Hill House Records

In Their Words: “This song had been kicking around for years in different forms, but finally found its time this year. A lot of that had to do with AJ Lee. She was just hanging out backstage at the Guild Theatre last October so we asked her if she had a mandolin and she said, ‘Sure!’ Next thing you know, she’s playing with us onstage; it was just a natural thing. ‘Fare Thee Well’ needed a really strong lead player and bluegrass leaning female voice, so when it came time to track it we immediately called her and she said ‘Sure!’ once again.” — Wolf Jett


Photo Credit: Effie Benjamin-Tyler

LISTEN: Broken Compass Bluegrass, “Fool’s Gold”

Artist: Broken Compass Bluegrass
Hometowns: Grass Valley and Chico, California
Song: “Fool’s Gold”
Album: Fool’s Gold
Release Date: March 31, 2023

In Their Words: “‘Fool’s Gold’ is a song about giving way to change and breaking expectations. Part of the song’s journey is stopping and really appreciating the things that you have right in front of you, like your family and close friends, or possibly your current situation, even if it’s faced with challenges. The other side of ‘Fool’s Gold’ is about taking risks, even when you don’t know exactly where you’re going. In life, I can be very specific and sometimes proceeding too carefully where roadblocks such as anxiety can scare me out of doing things, especially if I’m not clear on every last detail. So, I wrote this song to reflect on all the great times I’ve had from pressing forward past the internal conflict and opening those new chapters.” — Kyle Ledson, “Fool’s Gold”


Photo Credit: Patrick Ball

LISTEN: Cinder Well, “Returning”

Artist: Cinder Well
Hometown: Santa Barbara, California
Song: “Returning”
Album: Cadence
Release Date: April 21, 2023
Label: Free Dirt Records

In Their Words: “‘Returning’ is about going back to something you used to love — a place, or a relationship, or something you used to do that was part of your identity — and finding that the process is a lot less straightforward and a lot more painful than you expected. But it’s about accepting this spiraling nature of things, and finding the resilience and patience to see it through. Some of the lines came from the early days of the pandemic, when everyone’s war-time quote seemed to be ‘just two weeks and then it will all return back to normal.’ But after a while the reality deeply sunk in that things weren’t going back to normal, both on societal and personal levels.” — Cinder Well


Photo Credit: Georgia Zeavin

WATCH: James Intveld, “Let’s Talk It Out”

Artist: James Intveld
Hometown: Originally from Compton, California; Currently lives in Burbank, California
Song: “Let’s Talk It Out”
Release Date: March 10, 2023
Label: Mule Kick Records

In Their Words: “Recording my new single ‘Let’s Talk It Out’ brought me back to the joy of being in the studio with a song that I think has a great message. The meaning of the song is as uncomplicated as the the track, which seemed to play itself; it just felt right. We then talked about making a video and I saw the whole thing play out in my mind just as you see it now on the screen. With a filming team of friends and supporters, we were able to bring the story to life quickly and even include some subtle humor — even the dog cooperated. I’m glad to be able to share this long-awaited new release with hopefully some new ears as well as my dedicated followers who have patiently stood by me. ‘Let’s Talk It Out’ is definitely some advice worth saying.” — James Intveld


Photo Credit: Adrienne Isom / Mule Kick Records

With Dirty Laundry Piling Up Followers, Marcus Veliz Embraces the Banjo Vibe

A crystalline river flows lazily over rocks, a green hillside rising just beyond it to meet the bluest sky, and Marcus Veliz is clawhammering a hypnotic lick on his banjo in the foreground. “Ever try tuning to the river?” reads the caption to this picturesque reel on his Instagram profile @dirtylaundrytheband. “It might give you a new tune.”

This video, like so many on Veliz’s feed, was taken on one of his “banjo walks” near Reno, Nevada. Veliz likes to go out exploring with his instrument—an RK-OT25-BR, to be exact—when he’s camping or visiting a new city, find a spot that inspires him, and start riffing. “That’s just meditation, chill vibes,” he says. “You’re just trying to kind of tap in. You never know what’s gonna happen.”

The 26-year-old banjo phenom was born in Portland, Oregon, but grew up outside Sacramento in Orangevale, California, where he still lives…sometimes. Life has become more transient these days as he roams freely, a skateboard and banjo in tow, meeting and collaborating with fellow musicians all along the West Coast. His Dirty Laundry project (which sometimes includes other musicians) has drawn nearly 24,000 followers to his Instagram page since he picked up the banjo around three years ago. A musician since childhood, Veliz says the banjo is the latest in a long line of instruments after trumpet, autoharp, fiddle, accordion, spoons, and guitar, and it’s the one that has really stuck.

 

“I tell most people, with the banjo, I already knew how much effort you would need to put into something that’s new. So, when I picked it up, I expected it to take a while, but it kind of just loved me back,” he says. “I probably only had one day off that whole first year. It was really easy. It showed me a bunch.”

While many artists begrudgingly use social media to do the obligatory promotion of their music and upcoming shows, Veliz has wholeheartedly wrapped his arms around it and is using it to carve out a place for himself before ever even releasing a record. In a conversation from the backseat of his car, Veliz expands on what drew him to the instrument, his DIY approach, and what’s next for his music career.

BGS: What was it that made you pick up the banjo?

Veliz: There’s a lot of different things. It was always kind of around. I had a best friend whose dad was a big influence. They’d play Flatt & Scruggs and other stuff. There’s a band called Rail Yard Ghosts, and I got into them and their lead singer—Riley Coyote—the way he plays banjo made me think you didn’t have to just pick, you could do something new with it. I got one and saw what happened, right away started trying clawhammer style and just didn’t take a break from it for like a year. It just kinda clicked. My first banjo was 15 bucks. I went on the letgo app and found one in a town over. They had it as a wall hanging decoration. Everything was there, I just put new strings on it.

 

 

You mentioned Flatt & Scruggs and Rail Yard Ghosts. Who have been some of your other influences?

Stringbean from Hee Haw is really big to me. Grandpa Jones. They just have a jokey-ness about them. Stringbean has these long suspenders that are way down by his ankles and a long shirt, so he just looks super weird, but it’s on purpose. Grandpa Jones has funny banjo songs, too, but they’re both clawhammer style. Then there’s this dude Dock Boggs, he’s like two-finger-style picking, but his playing is just completely rhythmic and different.

In the first year [I was playing banjo], I conveniently got to see Steve Martin, and the Steep Canyon Rangers were with him, so that was a big gnarly experience. All those clawhammer players and seeing old videos of it and stuff, and just the history of it. I started dipping into the gourd banjos in Africa, you got the Caribbean roots and stuff. There’s just too much there for me to leave alone.

You’ve been playing music since middle school. Were you in any bands?

There were probably two, but we never did anything at all. It was just going to a friend’s house and playing and stuff. Then I fell into a whole thrash metal, death metal thing for a long time and got really technical on guitar. And I was doing folk around the same time as kind of an outlet, and then that just kinda took over.

 

 

So, thrash metal, punk, folk music, bluegrass, African and Caribbean—are you pulling from these influences when you’re writing or even just noodling, or are you trying to create your own sound?

I feel like I’m making my own lane in a way. I’ll listen to others saying I’m making a new sound, but I won’t say that I’m making a new sound. It’s refreshing and cool to hear, but I also know anybody that picks up a banjo and plays like clawhammer or two-finger style isn’t gonna sound the same, so it’s hard for me just listening to myself to be able to say anything like that. When I pick it up, I let it do its thing now.

How do you describe your style?

The best way I can describe it is, it’s a vibe. It gives you a mood. I’ve heard other people say it and I think it’s just the easiest way to explain it. It’s all over the place. There’s a lot of songs on guitar that don’t have bridges, but it works better without it. I hate bridges. When it stays like this verse-little thing-verse-bigger thing, but no bridge, it becomes just a vibe, like a lo-fi beat. It doesn’t change, it just keeps going. Dirty Laundry, I always tell people, it’s an idea of sound and vibe. It’s this living entity that I serve. I would just like to please “it,” this idea of sound.

Guided by feeling more than technical prowess?

Yeah, it’s all feels.

 

 

What does Dirty Laundry mean?

Dirty Laundry is kind of my outlet for shit, stuff you’re working through in life, just growing.

You’ve used Instagram and social media to build your audience. How organic or strategic was that?

For the Dirty Laundry project, as far as Instagram, I think I was on there in 2016 even, but it was all guitar-oriented and small. Then [a few years later], Charlie Marks—he’s a banjo player in Reno—we hit each other up and decided to get together and play, so I finally went out there. And I was asking him, “How are you blowing up on Instagram?” and he was like, “Dude, just start posting reels.” It was also a good time for that, so I started doing it. Just every other day, go post something. Then after a while it just started snowballing. It’s been wild.

It’s algorithmic stuff, too, cause if you’re gonna post something in a certain area and tag the place, it’s gonna work with the [other stuff for that tag]. I always wanna put my print that I’ve been here, played in your park. It’s gonna show up on everyone’s feed. There’re people that will post the updates of the algorithm and how it’s gonna work, so you can get smart around that stuff. But it’s kind of more a scavenger hunt in places I’ve been. I’m definitely trying to do some album work in the future. Right now, it’s just kinda been a blessing because I’ve been able to play all these places and not have an album and open for people with nothing.

You’re sort of subverting the traditional process in favor of a truly independent approach, while also subverting assumptions or expectations about what the banjo has to be.

There are definitely some fools watching, managers reaching out. It’s cool, but it’s also like, who else is looking? Makes you want to be hungrier for it.

 

 

How do you feel about TikTok?

I had one and I deleted it because it didn’t feel right. TikTok feels like you post something for it to be seen, but no one really goes to see more of it… I feel like there’s more incentive with Instagram to go to a page and see all the videos, to sit on a page and look at everyone’s content. TikTok’s just built to scroll and leave. I already feel like I have too many people where I’m just their pocket banjo guy.

Is there a scene you’ve experienced on your travels that you want to carve out space for yourself in, or is it more important to you to hang back and establish a stronger one where you already are/where it’s maybe more needed?

A bit of both. Everyone needs to leave their hometown to do something or become something. But definitely New Orleans, with artists like Rail Yard Ghosts and other folk punk, I definitely want to go out there and see if I can even hang with all the other musicians out there that are making a living out of playing on the street. I would like to earn my badge out there. And go to the East eventually and just play everything over there that I can.

I’m more Sacramento area, and there’s still a whole bunch of indie sounds going on. It’s like indie hardcore, and like dad rock bands. It’s not bad for the banjo folk scene. You’re definitely going other places for it, traveling to see better parts of it. But I see it coming up again because of Billy Strings and Sierra Ferrell.

All the heavy hitters I’m definitely watching and observing, taking notes. There’s also this small group in this area, like Charlie Marks, Two Runner, Bar Jay Bar, Water Tower Band. This is all California area. There’s just a bunch of local folk people that are on this side of the coast. It’s funny how we’re lumped in with each other, like we’re all just different corners of the same cloth and we’re all representing folk on the West Coast.

Stone and Sue, they’re like a moving picture from the 1920s. I’m kind of waiting for them to take over. They’re in Oregon. They just play super old-style stuff. I’m so happy to see a band like them. I feel like I have my hands full with so much old stuff. I’m researching still, from ‘20s or ‘30s, so it’s hard to keep an eye on all the stuff going on. I’m still trying to meet Matt Heckler, people like that. It’s all gonna happen eventually.


Photo Credit: Ryan Joseph Moody