Caroline Spence in Conversation With Lori McKenna

Caroline Spence and Lori McKenna are both lauded for writing songs that cut straight to the heart. In conversation, it’s clear they also share admiration and a generosity of spirit, offering insight into how a life built around family can both coexist with and deepen a life in music. The two met with BGS via Zoom to discuss Spence’s new record, Heart Go Wild, produced by Peter Groenwald, Mark Campbell, and Spence herself.

As Spence charts her first year of motherhood, McKenna reflects on building a catalog of piercingly honest songs while raising five children of her own. Together, they explore the mysteries of publishing, the influence of mentors like Mary Gauthier, and the butterfly effect of one songwriter’s choices on another’s path.

Their exchange drifts from songwriting craft to the role of co-writers in self-discovery into the bigger questions of life: how family and creativity intertwine, how community ripples outward, and how songs become offerings that carry meaning long after they leave the writer’s hands.

What emerges is a portrait of two artists at different points along similar paths, each proving that family life and creative life are not competing forces, but intertwined sources of inspiration and strength.

I know you two have a lot to talk about, but I’d love to start, if we can, with how you know each other? Did you know of each other musically first, and then how did you come to know each other personally?

Lori McKenna: I think the first time we met might have been at breakfast that time?

Caroline Spence: Right. I think that was another Bluegrass Situation connection. I think that was the first time I met you.

I had a good friend from summer camp and we would often trade mixes. She put one of your songs on a CD for me. I had already found Patty Griffin and was having my singer-songwriter love affair. That led me to The Kitchen Tapes, which led me to everything else. And I distinctly remember when Faith Hill cut “Stealing Kisses” and I thought, “Wait, that’s how that works?” I didn’t know what publishing was. I didn’t know how music worked in that way and that became a new little baby dream of mine that I carried with me: to write a song that was good enough that maybe somebody else would want to sing it. I feel like I would not be aware of the job that I have had I not found you, Lori.

LM: That is really cool. I remember not knowing anything about publishing, how it works and all that stuff, too. And I still feel like I know just a tiny bit more.

CS: I know, totally. It’s still a mystery.

LM: We were at a wedding over the weekend and my son Chris, who’s a writer in town, has his first single that he co-wrote that’s going to radio. So we were singing songs and at the end of the night, my brother was like, “Chris sold the song!” I’m like, “It’s not called selling the song.” He’s like, “Well, how does it work?” Nobody knows.

CS: Yeah, nobody knows. They just stream it now into the abyss.

LM: The only reason I knew anything was because of Mary Gauthier. I did know people who had moved to Nashville before Mary, but because I’m in the Boston area, they came back saying, “Yep, it’s very different.” It is very different in Nashville. I didn’t know anyone who had stayed before Mary, you know? I love being inspired by other people. I love it that that’s how life works, that you see someone else do something, and you’re like, “Wait! I can do that! At least I can try!”

CS: I’ve been thinking about that a lot lately, the butterfly effect, and how that happens within our community. Like, if Mary hadn’t done this, then this wouldn’t have happened for you, and if you hadn’t done that, then I wouldn’t have known about this, and I’ve been thinking about that as I’ve been in this creative community for a decade now. There’s so much stuff that you never know your little ripple is doing.

LM: The ripple is such a good word. It’s such a ripple, isn’t it? It’s crazy. We’re really lucky. I know you just had a baby, but the number of people that come up to me and ask, “How did you do this with kids?” Nobody told me that I couldn’t. I know stories of other artists that someone’s told, “You can’t do this and have a family at the same time.” I’ve heard those stories, but nobody ever told me that.

It didn’t seem impossible at the time. But now my son Chris has a baby. I look at them and I’m like, “Wait, how does anybody do that ever? How does anybody have a baby?”

CS: Man, some days it really feels that way. Most days it feels that way. No one ever said that to me either, but those are absolutely the cultural messages you absorb. There are certain gigs I might not get because of my familial obligations, but you just make your choices. And I’m not building my life around what I “might get.” I want to build my life around what I know I want to have. I just feel like all of that is gonna feed your person. You can’t starve yourself of these big, beautiful growth opportunities for some sort of potential. My life is bigger than my career, and I would like it to be as big as possible.

LM: And it’s crazy, right?

CS: Yeah, it’s nuts. Absolutely nuts. The fact that I got a shower this morning is a big win.

LM: Well, that and the fact you’re putting a record out!

CS: Yeah, yeah, and the record!

LM: You did good.

CS: It’s a little bit cuckoo, but it’s been done for a while. A lot of the heavy lifting was done even before I was pregnant, so that was an accidentally smart idea and we’ve just had to be strategic about everything else. I feel like there’ll be a lot of people who assume this is a record about marriage and family, which it’s not. I’m sure I will have that, but this feels like a record that’s more about the chaos before I decided I could do all that.

LM: From the minute I knew who you were, I’ve always loved the way that you express your feelings in such a way that makes other people be like, “Oh! I’ve felt like that! This song makes me realize that I’m not alone in feeling that.”

There’s something in the way that you write that is like arms are reaching out, but they’re also like, “I know you feel this way, too and it’s okay that we all feel this way.” I feel like that’s why music exists. For someone pulling over their car and being like, “Oh my god, okay, I’m not gonna die today because I just heard the song!” It is the biggest reason, the service of songwriting, as Mary Gauthier says. You don’t do it consciously, but it just is your way of doing it. It just seems so innate in the way you write.

CS: That’s so kind and means a lot to me, because that’s really how I feel about it. It’s been a progression. I started writing because I needed to get these hard things out when I was a younger person and as I started putting those out there, I would have conversations where someone would say, “I feel that way, too.” That kind of cemented in me to keep writing from that place, because that’s what music did, and still does for me.

What is personal is universal. I feel like someone smart said that before I did, but it’s so true. And Mary’s perspective of songs as a service resonates so deeply with me. There’s a quote I read when I was doing The Artist Way a few years ago that says, “The artist has to be humble, for he is essentially a channel.” To let the divine in, whatever it is, to flow through you, you have to get small and get in your humanity.

And when I’m feeling really in my head and when I don’t want to perform or I’m feeling self-critical, I think about what I’m doing as an offering, and it makes me feel better and more inside what I’m trying to do.

LM: I love the offering.

CS: People want to feel understood. As a listener, you want to find your soundtrack for your hard time or your good time.

LM: Well, congratulations on doing all this, because the record’s beautiful, as usual. You co-produced this whole thing, right? Did you always co-produce? Because this record seems, and I hate to use the word “rockier,” but it feels like it moves a little bit more. Was that intentional?

CS: I think a lot of that might sort of be a songwriting change for me. I feel like I’ve gotten better at translating what I’m hearing into the actual thing, so I think that’s a skill I’ve slowly developed from my slow folk songs for years.

LM: The transition is so beautiful. With the song “Soft Animal,” if I wrote that song, it would be just the slowest. It wouldn’t move the way [it does].

CS: It totally started on the page, too. It was very much like a poem. Sometimes I sit down to a piece of writing, if I’m going through my ideas, and if something’s sort of dead on the page, I’ll just start playing. That one was one where it sort of just came out that way. The clash of “Soft Animal” to something that felt really thrashy, the irony of that felt celebratory to me, and it was fun. That’s one of my favorites production-wise on the record.

LM: Oh, that’s great. When I work with a producer, you can tell. You can listen to the record and know that this is definitely different. But there’s been this really consistent line with you the whole time, which is kind of remarkable when you think about how much you’ve changed in life and as a person over the years. There’s this vibe that really just comes through where you can tell that you are a big piece of the production of everything.

CS: Thank you for saying that. That was actually a dealbreaker thing for me for this record, that I would only work with people who would give me a production credit, because I felt like over the years – and not to discredit the people who are credited as producers on my albums – but because of who they are as producers, it was collaborative, and there were times when I was making sure that my vision got to the finish line in spite of their initial instincts. I didn’t know it mattered to me until maybe I’d read some press that would bring that person’s name into it and it made me feel a certain way.

Producers are important because I think it’s really helpful to get outside of yourself and your own instincts, and to be challenged. But sometimes what’s helpful is to be challenged, and then you know exactly how firmly you feel about something.

For this record, I really wanted to know that it was collaborative from the jump. That felt incredible, and I worked with two people who had the best energy and a healthy sense of ego, and it was just really fun.

LM: That’s awesome. You come through. I’m exactly the opposite, because I can’t stand being in the studio.

CS: I understand that as well.

LM: I don’t know how you do it, because I literally only hear the song and what it sounds like when I sit at my kitchen table and sing it. People kept telling me over the years that I’d start to hear parts. So I am a person who needs producers… I’m just like, “Here are the songs.”

CS: Yeah, I’ve done that so many times, I’ve given a pile of songs and been like, “I don’t know what I made. What’s speaking to you?”

LM: Well, this morning I was listening to the album again, and I thought, “Oh, she’s gonna produce other people’s records someday.”

CS: That’s very kind and, honestly, a thought I hadn’t really had for myself, but I really did enjoy it. I think if I ever do that, it’s gonna be because of the experience I just had with these people that built up my confidence in that space. It was a lot of fun.

LM: You have this beautiful voice. I have an unpretty voice and you have a very pretty voice that you know how to use really well. You can say the hard things with that beautifully well-orchestrated production and then your beautiful voice, and it still makes you feel all the feels, versus I always feel like no matter what I sing, it’s gonna sound sad.

CS: I feel like a lot of the time I try to be like, “I’m not so sweet,” and grit up the production or avoid certain songs. I was self-conscious about it, which I think may be some internalized misogyny, because I have such a high female voice.

Speaking of songs being of service, babies and children come out singing, you know? It’s such a natural thing to do. We’re meant to do it. It’s joyous; it’s a release. And knowing the way it feels in my body to perform or really sing has changed the way I perceive my own voice.

LM: It is the first thing anybody knows how to do.

CS: Your voice has this wisdom to it. It kind of doesn’t matter what you’re singing; it sounds like you believe what you’re saying and you trust what you’re saying. You have this earnestness to your voice. If you were singing “Red Solo Cup” I’d be like, “That song means a lot to me.”

LM: I actually was at a round at the Bluebird [Cafe] with the Warren Brothers a couple of weeks ago, and they sang “Red Solo Cup.” I am so jealous of songs like that, because I could never write them.

In terms of writing for you, how have things changed since the baby?

CS: I haven’t had the same amount of headspace. My publisher held a sync camp and my mom came to town to help. I wrote for days straight and that felt really good to get back at it. As far as writing by myself, that’s just now kind of coming back.

LM: Is your son enjoying you playing the guitar?

CS: It’s a pacifying thing. I could put him in his playpen if I want to and mess around on guitar, and he’s super happy to listen. The other day, I was practicing for this Springsteen cover night that I got asked to do and I just started kind of riffing around. The flow started and that felt really good. I was like, “Oh, okay, it’s still in there.” I just hadn’t had the circumstances to put myself in the position where I’m visited by that energy. Being in creative spaces with others has been really nice right now, too, to slowly rebuild.

LM: When my kids were little, I actually wrote a lot. They all shared a bedroom and, after dinner, my husband would work on the house while I tried to sing them songs – sometimes terrible ones – or make up songs while they fell asleep. That routine gave me more time to write than I expected.

Two of my kids are songwriters now, though at the time they probably went to sleep just to get away from me singing the same line over and over. But honestly, if I hadn’t had that hour and a half every night with them, I don’t think I would have learned how to write. I wasn’t planning to be a musician. My children gave me the time and space to discover that.

By the time I had five kids, I started doing open mics. I never would have had the courage to get up there if I didn’t have my kids. They were my world, so if people didn’t like what I did on stage, I could always just go home and sing in the living room with them. That gave me the confidence to try.

CS: That balance is so important and it’s hard to reverse-engineer for people. If you move somewhere completely career-focused, you can get lost in that and miss the balance of family and partnership. I feel like any sense of longevity in life or career needs that.

For me, I’ve realized that to be a happy, well-rounded person – good partner, good friend – I need a rich family and personal life. Otherwise, my career just eats me alive. I think the reason you’ve been able to sustain your career and create a catalog of songs full of humanity is that you’ve always had that balance.

LM: Exactly. And it’s not just a woman’s thing. I know men who do it, too. But when you put family first, you have to say no to some things. You can’t always do that week-long tour, for example. But the things you say no to fade away; you don’t remember them. You only remember what you did. Instead, you stayed home and sat in the backyard with your kids and that’s the summer you wrote that one song that you’re still singing years later.

Love is supposed to be the thing you surrender to. It just opens up the universe wider. I’ve seen it happen again and again; even songwriters who know exactly what they want in their twenties, after falling in love or having a child, the world opens up in new ways.

CS: That’s making me emotional. That’s exactly where I am right now. I feel like my life is starting in a really good way. My career feels like it is starting over again. It is making me recalibrate how I want to show up in the world. And it’s freeing to have my compass aligned around my family. It feels like a new beginning. It’s really beautiful.

LM: That’s exactly it. Parenthood gives you a stream of love you hadn’t experienced before and it changes everything creatively. For me, it didn’t really happen until my fifth child, but it always happens. The universe shows up when you do something hard, like having a baby. I remember putting out a record in May, right around the birth of my son, David. By Thanksgiving, I had Faith Hill cuts. It’s like the universe says, “We should remind her that she gets to keep doing this.”

CS: That really resonates.

LM: I always listen to the last song on a record first.

CS: I love that because some of my favorite songs on your records are the last songs.

LM: When I heard “Where the Light Gets Through,” that song is such an offering, such a service. I don’t know if you want to talk about where that song came from, but years from now you are still going to have people tapping you on the shoulder saying “thank you” for that song.

CS: We’d made the record basically and we couldn’t figure out the last one. I said to the producers, “What if we write this one together?” Mark and Peter started building the track. I was going through ideas and I’d been writing a lot about my brother-in-law’s passing away. It just so happened that something I’d written fit almost exactly word for word and we shaped it from there. It couldn’t have just been me on that record, because it needed to feel lighter than I wanted it to.

LM: I know exactly what you are talking about. That’s why I love co-writing. You get perspectives that you could never create alone. Sometimes you can’t do it by yourself, and the song only exists because of that.

I’ve had that experience with Liz [Rose] and Hillary [Lindsey]. I had a song I’d been trying to write for a month by myself and I was so mad I couldn’t. I showed it to them and Liz was writing and singing it immediately. Hillary was like, “Do you know this song?”

CS: Do you feel like that is possible because you know each other so well that they can meet you where your brain is?

LM: Absolutely. And that’s another thing I love about co-writing. You fall in love with each other so quickly in the room. And when you trust yourself with someone, you can say the dumbest thing and it might turn into the smartest thing. I rarely sit with someone who doesn’t make me feel like I can speak my mind. With Liz and Hillary, Liz can read my mind and Hillary is like a musical and emotional genius. They both are.

Parenthood also gives you that focus. You don’t have all the time in the world, so you go straight to the point.

CS: I’ve heard many parents say they become more productive because they have to think differently about time and energy. I feel that now, with my baby being a little more self-sufficient.

LM: Exactly. And think of all the things you can do since having a kid! You weren’t opening drawers with your feet before, were you! Well, I love what you do, and I was genuinely happy when I heard you were pregnant. It’s a good thing for artists to step into family life.

CS: There’s a class of women my age choosing to have families now, balancing careers – it feels like a statement in all the best ways.

LM: Parenthood changes your perspective. You look back and wonder how you managed everything, but the flow and the creative life meet you there. You make the things you have to make because that’s what we’re here for.

CS: Man, there’s a lot of stuff I needed to hear today that you just spouted out. Thank you for spending time with this record.

LM: Congratulations. The record is so good. I hope the biggest challenge with it is all the things you have to say no to.

CS: And I won’t remember them, like you said.


Explore more of our Artist of the Month content on Caroline Spence here.

Photo Credit: Caroline Walker Evans

Artist of the Month:
Caroline Spence

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Author and artist Jenny Odell begins her impeccable book, How to Do Nothing, immediately driving to the heart of the matter:

Nothing is harder to do than nothing. In a world where our value is determined by our productivity, many of us find our every last minute captured, optimized, or appropriated as a financial resource by the technologies we use daily.

The book is a striking, heartfelt argument for a realignment of societal and personal priorities that decenters social media, the “attention economy,” and the ways each of our individual “rat races” have now penetrated every aspect of our own lives and our each and every waking moment. In Chapter 1, “The Case for Nothing,” Odell continues,

Currently, I see a similar battle playing out for our time, a colonization of the self by capitalist ideas of productivity and efficiency. … The removal of economic security for working people dissolves those boundaries – eight hours for work, eight hours for rest, eight hours for what we will – so that we are left with twenty-four potentially monetizable hours that are sometimes not even restricted to time zones or our sleep cycles.

These paradigms of and assumptions about “productivity” immediately jumped into my mind when I first heard singer-songwriter Caroline Spence’s lovely new album, Heart Go Wild. Released August 29, it marks Spence’s return to independently releasing music – on her own terms and retaining ownership of her own intellectual property (and the productivity that birthed it).

Over 12 original tracks, Spence is meditative and introspective, angry and tender, grateful and underappreciated, clamoring for justice and toying with the idea of giving up. There’s self-cajoling and there’s self-acceptance. There are aspirations, too, but the undercurrent of this collection isn’t ambition or climbing Music Row ladders or seeking any sort of superlative recognition. More than perhaps any of her other delicious albums – which also carry through many of these same themes – Heart Go Wild seems to be an exercise in songcraft, music-making, and album production that’s more in the vein of “doing nothing” than “doing everything, for everyone, 100% of the time.”

So, while these songs will surely elicit tears, spur daydreams, trigger longing, and untether dozens of emotions, overall they feel like one long, therapeutic sigh. A “deep breath out” to purge years of being underestimated or overlooked or underserved by record label execs, an exhale to eliminate any traces of ambition only for ambition’s sake, and to say goodbye – once and for all – to making art in order to meet the expectations (or profit margin targets) of others.

Since Spence’s most recent prior album, 2022’s True North, the shape of her professional life and network isn’t the only way her day-to-day has changed. She married her life partner, together they started a family, and the rocky relationship she had with the music business and its executives was just one facet of many in a deep self-searching and realignment of her musical and artistic priorities.

You can hear this shift in – or perhaps, recovery of – her values system in each of these songs. Spence has learned that “doing nothing,” that is, working outside of the machinations of the music industry, has always been her preferred method. And, just as she tends her bulbs, wildflowers, and hydrangeas, rain by rain, day by day, season by season, she now brings the same sort intention to her entire music-making process.

Odell continues in How to Do Nothing, “Our very idea of productivity is premised on the idea of producing something new, whereas we do not tend to see maintenance and care as productive in the same way.”

These songs – whether “Confront It,” “The Sound of You,” “Soft Animal,” “Dried Flowers, Old Habits,” and many others on the LP – indicate a deep, in-her-bones understanding that maintenance, stillness, rejuvenation, and feeding one’s soul – and the souls of your loved ones – is always productivity. Does it pad the pockets of suits in Nashville board rooms? Certainly not. Can it birth one of the best albums of the year? It does seem so!

Heart Go Wild is full of redemption – and the labors required to bring about a “blank slate,” a fresh starting point, and a re-solidified foundation. It may not feel like a totally new turn for diehard Spence fans (either sonically or textually), but there is still a palpable sense of the dust being shaken off and a new and endless creative horizon coming into view – tempting, tantalizing, and ready for Spence to gallop off toward.

As often as these songs are sad and self-challenging they are bold and dripping with agency. There are many moments of looking back and asking, “Why? How?” and “Did it need to end up this way?” Which are that much more impactful alongside their counterparts that say, “I know who I am,” “I know where I’m going,” and “I know who I’m bringing with me.”

Heart Go Wild places at its center – first and foremost – the loved ones Spence will elect for her songwriting and album-producing “board room” in her mind: her loving husband, their child, her family, her friends and peers, and her endlessly faithful rescue dog, Roxy. Spence is looking forward, utilizing the clarity she did gain from looking back to establish a new sort of workflow.

Externally defined productivity clearly won’t have the power over this critically acclaimed and musician-and-artist-beloved singer-songwriter anymore. (Though this writer is skeptical it ever truly did have that power to begin with.) Spence, like many of us, has spent the last few years, especially post-COVID and in the midst of growing her family, to learn how to constructively do nothing.

Now, with this stunning set of songs, she’s passing along those lessons to us. And, as we’ve already established, this kind of nothing isn’t nothing at all, no matter how hard it is to do. This kind of doing nothing is doing everything.

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Caroline Spence is our Artist of the Month! Check out our Essential Caroline Spence playlist below and stay tuned as we share content on Spence, her music, and her songwriting throughout the month. We also have a very special “in conversation” interview feature with Spence and Lori McKenna. Follow on social media, too, as we dip back into the BGS archives for all things Caroline Spence all month long.


Photo Credit: Kaitlyn Raitz

Ed’s Picks: A Breath of Fresh Air

(Editor’s note: Each issue of Good Country, our co-founder Ed Helms will share a handful of good country artists, albums, and songs direct from his own earphones in Ed’s Picks. 

Sign up here to receive Good Country issues when they launch, direct to your email inbox via Substack.)

Cam

A photo of Cam with the quote: "One of the best makers of pop country and mainstream country today – even Beyoncé took notice! Cam has co-write and production credits all over 'Cowboy Carter.'"

Maya de Vitry

A black and white photo of Maya de Vitry with a text quote: "Once a member of string trio the Stray Birds, Maya de Vitry's solo music is emotive, grounded, and poetic, combining rock, Americana, and country-folk."

Courtney Hartman

A black and white photo of Courtney Hartman with a text quote: "My pal Courtney, a fantastic flatpicker, writes and records timeless music with striking connections to place, nature, community, and the motion of the planets."

Kyshona

A black and white photo of Kyshona with a text quote: "Kyshona's genre-fluid album, 'Legacy,' (out April 26) finds redemption in exploring generational traumas - with compassion, heart, and family ties front and center."

The Local Honeys

A photo of roots duo the Local Honeys in black and white with an accompanying text quote: "East Kentucky-based roots duo the Local Honeys combine folk, old-time, bluegrass, and country, channeling the storytelling and folklore of their ancestors and Appalachian community."

Caroline Spence

A black and white photo of Caroline Spence with a text quote: "Your favorite songwriter's favorite songwriter, Spence makes pristine singer-songwriter folk with a country patina that's perfect for a stroll through your summertime garden."


Photo Credits: Cam by Dennis Leupold; Maya de Vitry by Kaitlyn Raitz; Courtney Hartman by Jo Babb; Kyshona by Anna Haas; The Local Honeys by Erica Chambers; Caroline Spence by Kaitlyn Raitz.

MIXTAPE: The Women in Roots Music Who Inspired Justin Hiltner’s ‘1992’

For the past eight or so years I’ve been making this joke that we (the music industry) should “Give women Americana.” As in, if we gave the entire genre — and bluegrass and country and old-time and folk, for that matter — to women and femmes and non-men, I wouldn’t so much miss the men and the music would certainly be well cared for and well set up for the future. 

My point, as I continue to make this joke year after year to many puzzled reactions, is that women and femme roots musicians have and will always be my favorite artists, creators, songwriters, and pickers. As I crafted my debut solo album, 1992 – often with incredibly talented women like producers and engineers (and pickers) Cathy Fink & Marcy Marxer, mastering engineer Anna Frick, photographer Laura E. Partain – the music that inspired, informed, and challenged me most through this release was all made by women. (Ask me sometime about my monthly Spotify playlist, Don’t Need No Man.)

When BGS approached me to make a Mixtape to celebrate 1992, I knew I had to share some of the women who helped me realize, musically, artistically, socially, emotionally, that there could be a home for me in bluegrass, largely because they had created such a home exactly for me. Here are a few of my bluegrass, old-time, and country inspirations, all of whom have filtered into this album in one way or another. – Justin Hiltner

Ola Belle Reed – “High On the Mountain”

1992 was tracked in Ashe County, North Carolina, in a little town called Lansing nestled into the Blue Ridge Mountains, right where Tennessee, Virginia, and North Carolina meet. I love it out there on the mountain, in the wind, in the clouds, on the rocky little road cuts and switchbacks through the hills. Lansing also happens to be the hometown of a legendary Appalachian musician and bluegrass forebear, Ola Belle Reed. A banjo she once owned and had signed hung on the wall beside me while I tracked every song. I definitely see my album as stemming from the lineage of Ola Belle, humbly and gratefully.

Cathy Fink & Marcy Marxer – “Hold Each Other Up”

I’ve been so lucky to collaborate with folk icons, Grammy winners, and children’s music legends Cathy & Marcy in so many different contexts and scenarios, every single one delightful and fulfilling. They’re amazing mentors and encouragers and while we recorded 1992 we had to take the chance to channel their amazing attitudes and worldviews into a COVID-inspired (or -instigated) track, “Hold Each Other Up.” I love getting to pick and sing with these two, and their engineering, production, wisdom, and guidance all made this record possible.

Laurie Lewis – “I’m Gonna Be the Wind”

Long before I ever got the chance to tour and perform with Laurie Lewis she was a hero of mine, someone I looked up to and knew would be a bluegrass legend and stalwart who could or would accept me for who I am. Turns out, often in bluegrass, it is okay to meet your heroes, because when we met and I got to work for her, it turned out I was absolutely right. Her writing style, her artistic ethos, and the way she infuses pure bluegrass energy and her personality into everything she does reminds me I can be who I am, play the music I play, and write the way I write. This song picks me up whenever I’m down and gives me self-confidence and optimism when I need it most.

Alice Gerrard & Hazel Dickens – “Mama’s Gonna Stay”

I never had the honor of meeting Hazel before she passed in 2011, but Alice Gerrard and I have become friends over the past six years and honestly, if 17-year-old Justin knew he’d become friends with this Bluegrass Hall of Famer, he’d die. We happen to share a birthday, too. Alice is a gem, a trailblazer, an unassuming and unrelenting activist and organizer and community builder. She inspires me in all of the above, but especially in her willingness, across her entire career, to write music about things no one else was writing about. This song, which Laurie Lewis turned me onto (she performs it as well), is a perfect example.

 

 

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Elizabeth Cotten – “Wilson Rag”

Playing shows and recording totally solo is often terrifying. Especially as a bluegrass banjo player used to playing in five-piece lineups. It took many years and lots and lots of practice time and experimental shows to figure out how exactly I wanted to arrange songs, build shows, create and ride a storytelling arc during my shows, guide an audience, and do all of that confidently with just a voice and banjo. Artists and pickers like Elizabeth Cotten gave me frames of reference for what I was doing that felt solidly bluegrass, but still building a show and sound that feels fully realized and not lacking for being minimal.

Missy Raines – “Where You Found Me”

Missy Raines is another hero of mine that I feel so lucky to now call a friend. Despite coming from different generations and very different circumstances we have so much in common. It just sometimes astounds me that we can have seemingly endless conversations around if bluegrass (or country or roots music) are accepting and open; meanwhile one of the winningest pickers in the history of bluegrass and the IBMA – that is, Missy Raines – has always been both accepting and open. Who needs the sexist, homophobic, womanizing, problematic elements of bluegrass when you have absolute badass legends like Missy!? I once covered this song for a “Cover Your Friends” show and it continues to devastate me to this day.

Caroline Spence – “Scale These Walls”

When I first moved to town, Caroline Spence was one of maybe four or five people I knew in all of Nashville. We spent a lot of time together in those early years, back in 2011 and 2012, and pretty soon after that we wrote a song together, “Pieces.” We both loved it a lot, performed it here and there with different lineups and bands, but it never landed on a record ‘til now. “Scale These Walls,” from Caroline’s most recent album, is constantly stuck in my head. I love how it showcases her jaw-dropping skill for writing dead-on hooks that feel so organic and never corny. I love this song.

Molly Tuttle – “Crooked Tree”

Molly Tuttle and I wrote “Benson Street,” a track off my new album, together about five or six years ago. It’s a cute little number about longing told through the lens of an idyllic Southern summer. I love every chance I get to make music or write music with Molly. She’s a constant source of inspiration for me and proof positive that you can be a proverbial crooked tree in bluegrass and still carve a pathway to success. Plus, she’s another great example of a picker who can command an entire audience totally solo. Trying to steal tricks from Molly Tuttle? Couldn’t be me.

Rhiannon Giddens – “Following the North Star”

Rhiannon Giddens is the blueprint. When I think about my artistic future and the way I want to be able to glide between media, between contexts, between areas of expertise and subject matter, between pop and roots and so many other musical communities, I think of Rhiannon. The way she has built her career around her artistic and political perspective, so that no matter what she does it feels grounded in her personality and selfhood is exactly how I want to be as an artist and creator. Plus, I always want to be as big of a music nerd and as big of an old-time nerd as her. 

Maya de Vitry – “How Bad I Wanna Live”

Maya is one of those writers and musicians who just makes me feel seen and heard and understood, and I know I’m only one in a huge host of people who would say the same. The vulnerability and transparency in her writing and the emotional and spiritual availability within it are astounding. Plus, she’s almost always, constantly challenging herself to consider the ways she creates and makes music outside of consumerism and art as a commodity. I moved to Nashville to be challenged, musically and artistically, by those around me and I feel so lucky to have Maya around me and a member of my community.

Courtney Hartman – “Moontalk”

Courtney Hartman’s “Moontalk” makes me feel like every single song I’ve ever written about the moon is good and right and allowable. (We both have quite a few songs about the moon, actually.) “Moontalk” feels like Mary Oliver incarnate in bluegrass-informed picking and singing. It feels meditative and contemplative, but not timid or insular – something I’m always trying to accomplish in solo contexts. I’m constantly inspired by Courtney and the way she centers community building in her music and life. She’s another one who, though she thrives performing and making music solo, you know that music came from a multitude of folks pouring through her.

Dale Ann Bradley – “He’s the Last Thing On My Mind”

I thank a few artists who have inspired and influenced me in a huge way in 1992’s liner notes and Dale Ann Bradley is one of them. I feel like I am constantly ripping off and (poorly) mimicking her vocal runs, phrasing, licks, and delivery. I think she might have the best bluegrass voice of all time, or at least it’s very very high up on the list. When I first moved to town I worked as an intern at Compass Records and just getting to be a small part of the team that worked a handful of her records meant so much to me.

Lee Ann Womack – “Last Call”

Lee Ann Womack is another who I thank in the album’s liner notes, another who I emulate vocally as much as I can get away with. I used to wear out this track and this album, Call Me Crazy, listening on repeat over and over. When I found out this song was co-written by an openly gay songwriter, it rocked my world. I already heard so much queerness in LAW’s catalog, and this confirmation came at a time when I needed to feel like I was given permission to exist in bluegrass, country, and Nashville. I know now that no one needs that permission, but it was critical then.

Linda Ronstadt – “Adios”

During the 1992 recording session I recorded a solo banjo rendition of this song, one I’ve been performing for years at shows. It means so much to me and Linda’s performance is stunning in its power and tenderness, a combination I’m often striving for. I hope to release it some time soon as a single, then again on a deluxe vinyl edition of 1992. It will not be the last time I pay tribute to Linda and her incredible career and catalog – plus, she is a huge bluegrass fan! It just makes sense to me.

Dolly Parton, Emmylou Harris, Linda Ronstadt – “Wildflowers”

When I had the pleasure of being a guest on the hit podcast Dolly Parton’s America, I sang this song and “Silver Dagger” among a few other from Dolly’s catalog that I felt had queer under/overtones. The response to my on-air picking was enormous, and there were immediate demands to release my versions of the songs. Cathy, Marcy and I recorded “Wildflowers” together during the 1992 sessions and it’s one of my favorite tracks that resulted from that week on the mountain. It’s gotten quite a lot of play, which I’m so grateful for, and always gives me an opportunity to talk about Trio and Dolly and how the story in “Wildflowers” parallels many a queer journey. It’s the perfect track to round out this Mixtape and I thank you for reading and listening along.


Photo credit: Laura E. Partain

Basic Folk – Caroline Spence

Originally from Charlottesville, Virginia, Caroline Spence came from this cool family that always seemed to be messing around with music: both listening and playing music. She’s recently been discovering and sharing home movies from when she was a kid: scooting around in diapers on a guitar case, singing with her grandfather and mother. The clips, which she used in the video for “Clean Getaway,” were a gift in which she was able to see her personality and genuine love of music from a young age. She was emboldened to perform and write by her musical aunt, who invited Caroline to open for her as a teenager.

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She came to Nashville for a job in the music industry and slowly started putting herself out there as a songwriter for other musicians. Her writing is based in honesty and she opens up about her relationship to the truth in our conversation. We also get into how she had to develop ego, why it matters and how she let herself have access to it. We discuss her love of flowers and how she relates the songs on her new album True North to different flowers. Caroline is an avid reader of Mary Oliver and even has a song named after her as the poet feels devotional and spiritual. Enjoy Caroline Spence!


Editor’s Note: Basic Folk is currently running their annual fall fundraiser! Visit basicfolk.com/donate for a message from hosts Cindy Howes and Lizzie No, and to support this listener-funded podcast.

Photo Credit: Kaitlyn Raitz

WATCH: Jamie Drake, “Easy Target”

Artist: Jamie Drake
Hometown: Los Angeles, California
Song: “Easy Target”
Album: New Girl
Release Date: June 10, 2022
Label: AntiFragile Music

In Their Words: “It’s easy (pun intended) for me to relate to this song because it’s about how naive I have been in the past when it comes to love. Like many, I’m someone who grew up in an abusive home and as a result searched for love to fill that void. I searched my whole life until I truly realized that I had to love myself first. Love addiction is one of the common side effects of growing up in an abusive environment. I’m really happy and proud to say I’m a recovering love addict who has finally found my person as a result of loving myself first. ‘Easy Target’ is an honest reflection on my not-so-recent past, as if I’m reminiscing over the mistakes of my younger self with a forgiving smile, knowing that I’ve finally learned my lesson.” — Jamie Drake


Photo Credit: Kathryna Hancock

WATCH: Caroline Spence, “Clean Getaway”

Artist: Caroline Spence
Hometown: Charlottesville, Virginia; Nashville, Tennessee
Song: “Clean Getaway”
Album: True North
Release Date: April 29, 2022
Label: Rounder

In Their Words: “This song is meant to be a cathartic, windows-down, feel-good and feel-bad anthem to sing at the top of your lungs as a way to honor yourself while owning your flaws — it’s for those folks that are still working through their baggage and might need a little help celebrating who they are in the meantime. This song absolutely came out of the lockdown in 2020, a time when none of us had the luxury of being able to hide from ourselves. I think I thought that time off the road would make me a different person in a certain way, but things didn’t get easier with more time, they just got pulled more into focus because you are all that is left when everything else falls away.

“In the video, we wanted to show the lighthearted part of my experience with my Saturn Return — entering a new phase of adulthood where you can actually make space for your inner child instead of running from them. We used home movies of me as a kid to show this. I got to see that my interests and personality really haven’t changed much at all. I think I thought I’d be different by the time I hit 30 and the Saturn Return ended, but it left me exactly where I started, with just with more acceptance of who I am deep down.” — Caroline Spence


Image Credit: Kaitlyn Raitz

The Show on the Road – Caroline Spence

This week on The Show On The Road, we feature a conversation with an admired and sharp-witted singer-songwriter in the fertile Nashville Americana scene, Caroline Spence.


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A sought-after lyricist who mines her own vulnerabilities and lovelorn past to tell delicately crafted story-songs, Caroline Spence’s voice seems to always hover angelically above the page, bringing to mind new-wave country pop heroine Alison Krauss or her vocal hero, Emmylou Harris.

Growing up in Charlottesville, VA daydreaming to Harris’ signature twangy honey-toned records like Wrecking Ball, Spence admittedly was a bit starstruck when the silver-maned lady herself came on board to sing harmonies on the title track of Spence’s newest LP, Mint Condition. It quickly became a critic’s darling and an Americana radio staple nationwide.

As a conversationalist, she usually leads with cheerful southern modesty, but beginning with her 2015 debut, Somehow, Spence wasn’t afraid to push at country music’s guy-centric boundaries. She brought aboard a talented group of genre-defining collaborators like blue-eyed soul hero Anderson East and pop-folk favorite Erin Rae to give the songs new heft. Her follow-up Spades And Roses brought more lush atmospherics to her yearning acoustic stories, elevating the clear-eyed feminine power behind emotive songs like “Heart Of Somebody.”

While Spence will tell you she is just furthering the empowered spirit of roots songwriter pioneers who came before her, during this time of high anxiety, her deeply felt love songs like “Sit Here and Love Me” and “Slow Dancer” seem especially fitting, touching on her bouts of depression and her inability to connect with the ones who are trying to help her through.

Sometimes sad songs truly do make people happy, and if you’re feeling a bit low, maybe pop on her newest single “The Choir,” about finding your people when you need them most.


Photo credit: Angelina Castillo

8 of Our Favorite Underrated Sitch Sessions

Since our first excursion to Bonnaroo in 2013 BGS has been filming, crafting, and releasing Sitch Sessions with the absolute best and brightest musicians and artists in roots music. We’ve been so fortunate to work with new and old friends, freshly discovered and up-and-coming artists, and legendary performers with enormous legacies. After nearly eight years, we’ve amassed quite an archive of sessions, and within that archive more than a few stellar songs and performances have seemingly fallen to the wayside. 

These 8 Sitch Sessions from the BGS archives are a few of our most favorite, underrated moments from our years of shooting sessions. We hope you’ll enjoy a few of these “reruns” — and take a deep dive into our past featured videos yourself!

Nathan Bowles – “Burnt Ends Rag”

One of our favorite shooting locations is a rooftop in downtown Los Angeles, where countless BGS Friends & Neighbors have taped their Sitch Sessions over the years. One of our favorites is this clawhammer banjo performance by Nathan Bowles, which demonstrates that old-time music and its trappings can be perfectly at home in modernity — and in urban settings, too. More banjos in DTLA, please and thank you!


Andrew Combs – “Firestarter”

One fine AmericanaFest week in Nashville in September a few years back we partnered with Crowell Floral, Jacob Blumberg, and Dan Knobler on The Silverstreak Sessions, a series of Sitch Sessions set in a vintage Airstream and flanked by gorgeous flowers and verdant foliage. At the time, “Firestarter” had not yet been released — now you can hear it on Combs’ 2019 release, Ideal Man. For this session all Combs needed was his guitar, this heartfelt song, and that honey sweet, aching voice. 


Alice Gerrard – “Maybe This Time” 

Every opportunity we’ve had to collaborate or speak with Bluegrass Hall of Famer and living legend Alice Gerrard, we’ve taken it! This session is two of a pair we shot with Gerrard, the other a stark, awe-inspiring a capella number that was quite popular on our channels. This Alice original, “Maybe This Time,” is cheerier, lighter, and has that charming old-time bounce in its bluegrass bones. 

With a new documentary film available, You Gave Me a Song, perhaps it’s about time for another session with this hero of ours!


Ben Sollee – “Pretend”

Maybe you’ve seen Mark O’Connor play fiddle while skateboarding, or Rushad Eggleston performing all manner of acrobatics and avant garde silliness with his cello, but do you remember when Ben Sollee toured America by bicycle? In this 2016 session, Sollee demonstrates his cello-while-pedaling chops. 

We’re firm believers that the world needs more bluegrass, old-time, and Americana cello and we’re happy to return to this archived Sitch Session for that reminder!


Caroline Spence – “Mint Condition”

Another session filmed on our home turf in Los Angeles, Nashville-based singer-songwriter Caroline Spence brought “Mint Condition” to her taping fresh off her debut, eponymous release on Rounder Records in 2019. “Mint Condition” displays Spence’s unique skill for writing strong, unassailable hooks that on almost any other songwriter’s page might trend cheesy or trite. Spence instead displays the simple profundity in her lyrics, a skill evidenced plainly in this session.


Laura Veirs – “July Flame”

Over the years, we’ve partnered with festivals, companies, and brands on tailor-made sessions — like our Portland series, where we partnered with our friends at Ear Trumpet Labs on some of our most popular, most viral Sitch Sessions ever! This beautiful, sunny, summery rendition of “July Flame” by Laura Veirs certainly deserves a re-up. 

In 2016, after this session was published, Veirs went on to release case/lang/veirs with Neko Case and k.d. lang. Remember that!? 


Kelsey Waldon – “Powderfinger”

We first filmed a Sitch Session with Kentuckian country singer and songwriter Kelsey Waldon in 2015 — after the release of her debut album, The Goldmine, in 2014. In the time that’s elapsed since, Waldon has followed her golden debut with two more impeccable studio albums, the latest being White Noise / White Lines, which was released on the late John Prine’s Oh Boy Records in 2019. On the tail of White Noise / White Lines, Waldon gave us this gorgeous cover of Neil Young’s “Powderfinger” displaying her talent for cover song interpretations as well as original song sculpting.


Sunny War – “He Is My Cell”

Guitarist and singer-songwriter Sunny War has just released a brand new album, Simple Syrup, as charming and entrancing as ever and built firmly, yet again, upon her unique and idiosyncratic guitar picking style. In 2018 she released With the Sun, an album that included “He Is My Cell,” which ended up featured in a Sitch Session in early 2019 on BGS. 

War recently appeared as a guest on our Shout & Shine series – read our interview here


 

MIXTAPE: Marie Miller’s Quiet Hope From Home

“Music has always been a source of hope in the most difficult seasons of life. It possesses that strange quality to make mosaics out of even the most broken places and emotions. As we face this pandemic as a world community, I pray this music fills your heart and gives you quiet hope from home.” — Marie Miller

The Collection – “Becoming My Own Home”

I remember the first time I heard this whole album, and I honestly gasped in joy! This song is about finding home within yourself. I think it speaks to this time as many of us are reconnecting with ourselves in our homes.

Brandi Carlile – “The Mother”

We have all lost something in this pandemic, but we haven’t lost who we are. Brandi Carlile I will love you forever.

Marie Miller – “Little Dreams”

I’m going to be super awkward and put myself on here for two reasons. 1. This song is about believing in your dream when EVERYTHING is falling apart. 2. I just want to be near Brandi in any way I can.

Lowland Hum – “I Will”

I can’t count how many nights I have looked at the sky and listened to this with wonder at the dark sky and bright stars. It just makes me feel like we are going to be OK.

Kelly Hunt – “Across the Great Divide”

Speaking of soothing music, Kelly Hunt makes truly lovely and peaceful music. Also I have yet to meet her, but I imagine she would be the kindest person in the world.

Punch Brothers – “Soon or Never”

I don’t think I will ever get tired of this song. It’s almost hauntingly beautiful. It breaks my heart, but puts it back together before the end of the song.

Joy Williams – “Front Porch”

Going with theme, I feel like I am at the front porch of forgiving myself and loving myself and that’s still home even if its not quite inside. “The light is on. Whatcha waiting for?”

Josh Ritter – “Change of Time”

As we all let go of what we thought this year would be, I am allowing Josh Ritter to serenade me and remind me all will be well.

Fleet Foxes – “White Winter Hymnal”

The first time I heard this song I was in love with this boy, and I felt like he might like me. I don’t know that boy anymore, but I feel that hope every time I hear it.

Robby Hecht and Caroline Spence – “I’ll Keep You”

I think Robby Hecht could fill any heart with hope. This song is about keeping things that matter, and I think it’s a great song for today.

The Wailin’ Jennys – “Glory Bound”

This song is about heaven, and the Wailin’ Jennys sing like angels. It would be hard to find something more hopeful and beautiful.

Michelle Mandico – “1,000 Feet”

The world needs to braver and kinder than its ever before to make beauty out of this sorrow. I believe we are far kinder and braver than we know. This song reminds us of just that.