Tag: Charles Bradley

The Show on the Road – Menahan Street Band (The Daptone Sound)

Posted on by Shelby Williamson

This week, The Show On The Road brings you a rare conversation with Thomas Brenneck and Homer Steinweiss, the braintrust behind brass-forward instrumental supergroup the Menahan Street Band. If Tarantino and Scorsese ever needed a custom-made, 1970’s greasy-soul soundtrack, MSB might be the perfect choice. While the timeless Daptone Records sound has gone worldwide thanks to breakout stars like the late Sharon Jones and Charles Bradley, most don’t know the bandleaders and songwriters behind their intricately arranged works.

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Guitarist/producer Thomas Brenneck has been the secret sauce in helping hitmaker Mark Ronson create vintage backdrops for crossover stars like Amy Winehouse, while Homer Steinweiss’ slinky drumming can be heard across the Daptone universe, including on Jones, Winehouse, and Lee Fields and The Expressions records, not to mention his work with Lady Gaga, St. Vincent, and Bruno Mars. For the first time in a decade, MSB — which includes Dave Guy (The Roots), Leon Michaels (The Black Keys) and Nick Movshon (The Expressions) — have reconvened the troops to create their most effortlessly cinematic collection yet: the cheekily titled The Exciting Sounds Of The Menahan Street Band. The album art alone signifies a sensual, intimate evening is ahead to whoever listens. Is the design NSFW? Maybe.

Brenneck called into the episode taping from outside L.A. and Steinweiss from his studio in New York City. The conservation jumped back to how they formed the group in 2007, how they convinced Bradley to join them in making new music (he had been doing James Brown impression work), and how they find that out-of-body, improvisational zen zone which creates their aural moods of mystery and intrigue — showcased best in the reverb-y Bond-like jam “Starchaser.”

A favorite surreal moment that Brenneck mentioned was driving through Brooklyn hearing their song sampled by Jay-Z. For a moment, their horns were blaring from every car radio in the city. While hip-hop legends often find their beats and backdrops from classic soul and R&B vinyl, notables like Eminem, Kendrick Lamar, Travis Scott and 50 Cent have mined the funky MSB catalog for years. Sir Paul McCartney also used their services. If you need an instant vibe, they’ve got you. Even in sparkling trumpet-led themes like “Glovebox Pistol,” which clocks in at a minute and eight seconds long, you can see a velvet-boothed, smoke-filled scene unfolding, bringing to mind the lush scores of The Godfather or The Score.

Only recently have star backing-bands like The Wrecking Crew, The Swampers, and the Muscle Shoals Rhythm Section come to be appreciated for creating some of the most beloved songs in the American pop canon, from The Beach Boys and Aretha Franklin to Paul Simon, Bob Dylan, and The Staples Singers. It can be argued that in the 21st century, Brenneck and Steinweiss (and the work of The Menahan Street Band) deserve to be included in that conversation. With one listen of The Exciting Sounds Of The Menahan Street Band, you are transported — exactly where is up to you.

Photo credit: Shervin Lainez

Following the Groove: A Conversation with Durand Jones and the Indications

Posted on by Editor

Outside of Detroit’s Motown Music, soul has generally tended to inhabit more southern locales. Yet in Bloomington, Indiana, on the campus of Indiana University, a group of music students discovered how their mutual passion for older grooves kindled fires in the snowiest of settings. Louisiana native Durand Jones moved north in 2012 to attend grad school at the Jacobs School of Music, where he eventually met guitarist Blake Rhein, who in turn introduced him to drummer Aaron Frazer. Their subsequent lazy Sunday hangs, which involved exchanging their favorite classic 45s and contemporary albums, quickly turned into fervid jam sessions. And, from there, Durand Jones and the Indications (with bassist Kyle Houpt and keyboardist Justin Hubler) found themselves transforming those influences into heat-soaked soul that evoked Otis Redding, at turns, and Charles Bradley, at others.

Where ‘60s soul combined gospel with R&B, the Indications gaze further and wider, integrating rock, punk, funk, and more. The result is a sound steeped in the fires that first formed soul with enough grit to hold steady alongside the rowdiest of rock bands. The slithering drum-and-bass line on “Make a Change” — the lead track off their self-titled debut album — buttresses Jones’s guttural cry, while the slow-tempo burn of “Is It Any Wonder?” allows him to show off a falsetto-whisper that calls to mind Alabama Shakes’ Brittany Howard. Jones’s voice, which has drawn comparison to the yearning cry of Lee Fields and the robust smoothness of Sam Cooke, ties the whole affair together, but it’s not a path he foresaw walking down. He intended to play his sax at IU. But finding a soul-infused groove with a group of like-minded musicians is the same as discovering heat in the snowy plains of the Midwest: Some kinds of magic just can’t be ignored.

People tend to trek south when they’re looking for soul, but you went from Louisiana to Indiana. What did you discover there?

Durand Jones: I went up there to mainly focus on classical music, but I got a job working with horn players and charting out horn parts for the Soul Revue, and that’s how I met Blake [Rhein] — my guitar player — in that class. He told me that he and Aaron were doing this together. He asked me if I wanted to join along, and I thought it was a cool way to make friends, so I said yes.

IU’s Soul Revue prides itself on training musicians to “interpret and perform” soul music. What did the process look like when you stopped interpreting and started creating your own sound?

Aaron Frazer: I think we’re always synthesizing things. In the process of creating something new, you’re drawing from the old, and not just soul music. Ideally, we listen to a lot of soul music, but also a lot of hip-hop, a lot of country. Durand has an amazing classical background steeped in jazz, too. I think, when you aim for something, if you set out to sound a specific way, oftentimes you’ll fall short, but where you fall short you wind up finding your own voice, and I think that’s what ended up happening with this record.

I know critics have touted this as part of the neo-soul movement, but there’s so much more going on, given your differing influences.

AF: I think it comes through, especially in our live shows. You can see the different influences; it’s not just a straight-up revivalist band.

How do you top your energy every night? It sounds like one helluva party.

DJ: Whenever I met these dudes back in 2012, a lot of the guys were in a band called Charlie Patton’s War, which is a rock ‘n’ roll band, and I really do think that energy comes through live. I just try to bring it every night, just try to lay it all on the line. All of us do.

What kind of instincts have you developed to help you shape the groove you manage to find on every single track?

AF: The process of creating that first album was learning how to write songs, how to arrange, learning what the difference is between how you play during a live show versus how that translates onto a recording. I think now, as we’ve been in the process of preparing our next album, I’ve seen a ton of growth in the group. We’ve focused on concepts and working on arrangements, using more vocal harmonies, but normally, I think one person will bring an idea to the table and then everyone else will help shape that.

 

It’s a communal table.

AF: Yeah, it’s really, really collaborative. We all have different strengths, and we all learn from each other’s strengths. I know I’m a better songwriter for it.

DJ: It’s very organic, too. It’s never forced. I really love songwriting with these dudes.

Has it grown out of that jamming relationship?

DJ: Yeah, for sure. Aaron and Blake invited me to come hang out with them on Sundays and, eventually, we just started hanging out and listening to records and drinking beers before we even started to jam. It was really cool to see what they were listening to, and how much that was influencing them. Whenever it came to us writing and jamming together, it really taught me what they wanted from me as a singer — what to sing and how to sing it. I personally think that’s how we got to know each other.

Yeah, I read that you guys listened to a lot of 45s before you pressed your own. That must’ve felt surreal.

DJ: Yeah, it was. I wasn’t really into collecting, before I met these guys, but I grew up around a lot of 45s in my grandmother’s house, and it encouraged me to dig through those old records and find some great things. It’s a really cool hobby.

Who were you listening to?

AF: We were listening to a lot of different things. For me, Darondo is an artist that really fascinated me because he put out some singles in the Bay Area, but his music never reached outside of the region. He lived his life creating music kind of for the sake of creating music. In the very last chapter of his life, one of his songs was used in a television show, and it brought his music to a much much wider audience. He was able to enjoy that success. It’s artists like that, where it’s a message in a bottle — you record it, you send it out there into the world, and maybe one day somebody finds it. Maybe they don’t. I think there’s something really seriously interesting about that. But also, musically, his stuff is amazing. He sounds like a tripped-out Al Green.

DJ: We used to have a Dropbox where we would share music that we were really digging at the time. I remember Blake sharing Sly and the Family Stone’s first album. That was something I listened to a whole bunch during that time. I remember Aaron sharing the Alabama Shakes’ first album. I listened to that a whole bunch. There was a whole lot of gospel in that Dropbox. When I first met Blake, he played me Charles Bradley. Honestly, that album got me through grad school. Any time I was having a hard day.

Right? Doesn’t it make you feel better? I miss his voice.

DJ: Man, it’s a way of life.

I know your voice has drawn comparisons to Lee Fields, but I also thought about Charles Bradley, when I first heard it. And then I couldn’t help but think of Sharon Jones. This conversation we have about modern-day soul revolves largely around those three names, in many ways, but there’s so much more taking place. Don Bryant released his debut album last year. William Bell came back and recorded at Stax. How do you hope what you’re doing widens that conversation, and maybe shines a light?

AF: I think that’s spot on. What I really like about the DJs who have been spinning at our shows, I feel like they’re conjuring spirits in a way. A lot of times at our shows, we’ll play covers that are more obscure — they’re deeper cuts — and we really like using that as a moment to help, maybe not educate, but expose crowds to music that hasn’t been performed in decades, and certainly not to audiences like the ones we’ve been playing to. So, yeah, there’s a ton of soul music outside the Daptone family, even though we are eternally grateful to what they’ve done.

It sounds like you guys are the live version of your Dropbox folder.

AF: [Laughs] Yeah, it’s a fun way to connect. For the people who do know those covers, it’s an instant connection. It’s really fun to see who in the crowd really likes when we start playing a deep cover.

Soul music, because it grew up out of gospel, has always been attached to a message. Durand, you’ve mentioned how “Make a Change” touches, in part, on the low minimum wage many have to contend with. What do you hope to share with your listeners, besides this amazing feel and groove?

DJ: For this first album, we really focused on a broad range of love, having the party — songs like “Groovy Babe” — and political and social consciousness, but I think with this next album, we really want to dig deeper into different parts of love — like platonic love, or other subjects. We’ve become really close with the low-rider community out on the west coast, so even writing tunes about cruises. There are so many things I definitely want to write about. Also just encouraging songs.

That’s so necessary, nowadays.

DJ: Yeah, for sure. Curtis Mayfield has always been a really big influence on all of this. I really love his preaching messages, personally. I feel there could be so much more of that out there.

AF: On this first record, I feel like, generally, it’s a zoom out. The message is that people are multidimensional — that life is a lot of different experiences. Sometimes you’re happy and sometimes you’re sad, and that’s okay. You don’t have to put forward this image that you see on social media all the time — this highly curated, polished version of your life. Sometimes you’re heartbroken, sometimes you’re feeling silly in love, sometimes you’re at the party, and sometimes you’re at the protest. That’s the message of this first record.

Photo credit: Horatio Baltz

In Memoriam: 2017

Posted on by Editor

The year end is a time for round-ups — reflections on the cultural, social, and political landmarks of the past 365 days. But the tragedies brought on by ideological conflict, mass violence, and natural disasters in 2017 are particularly hard to sum up in a few simple phrases or talking points. That’s where music comes in, lending form to feelings and ideas that we may otherwise struggle to put into words. Luckily, there were plenty of releases that did just that throughout the course of the year (and we’ve highlighted our favorites on our BGS Class of 2017 lists).

However, this function of songwriting is far from new. Music has provided respite or thrown down the gauntlet since its inception, and 2017 saw the passing of artists across all genres who have channeled this power brilliantly for years. We lost Sharon Jones, Curly Seckler, Butch Trucks of the Allman Brothers Band, Chris Cornell of Soundgarden and Audioslave, Hüsker Dü’s Grant Hart, AC/DC’s Malcolm Young, Steely Dan’s Walter Becker, Sister Sledge’s Joni Sledge, Montgomery Gentry’s Troy Gentry, Jimmy LaFave, Linkin Park’s Chester Bennington, Kevin Garcia of Grandaddy, and Pat DiNizio of the Smithereens, among others.

Here, we pay tribute to and honor the legacies of musicians who have bolstered communities, broadened the scope or forged new paths across this broad spectrum that we call Americana.

Chuck Berry (October 18, 1926 – March 18, 2017)

Chuck Berry is heralded as one of the preeminent fathers of rock ’n’ roll. His influence is so profound that John Lennon once famously remarked, “If you tried to give rock ‘n’ roll another name, you might call it ‘Chuck Berry.’” Born in St. Louis, Berry signed to Chicago’s Chess Records in 1955 and produced some of the biggest staples in American music like “Roll Over Beethoven,” “Sweet Little Sixteen,” “Rock and Roll Music,” and “Johnny B. Goode.” Berry contributed just as much to the landscape of country as he did to pop and R&B, and his songs became hits for heavyweights like Waylon Jennings, Emmylou Harris, and Buck Owens. His impact on the genre was recognized in 1982, when he was inducted into the Nashville Songwriters Hall of Fame. In 1984, he received the Grammy Lifetime Achievement Award and was inducted into the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame in 1986 as part of the inaugural class. Released in June, Berry’s posthumous record, CHUCK, became his first studio release since 1979. Tinged with playful nods to the past, it’s a fitting farewell from the architect of rock ’n’ roll.

Gregg Allman (December 8, 1947 – May 27, 2017)

As co-founder of the Allman Brothers Band, Gregg Allman was one of the most enduring figures in music. Allman and co. rose to fame as sonic trailblazers with their amalgamation of soul, gospel, R&B, country, and jazz. Allman was a strong proponent of the blues, and while he is often hailed as the king of Southern rock, it’s a moniker that he didn’t fully embrace. As Gregg Allman Band guitarist and music director Scott Sharrard told us in an interview earlier this year, “[Gregg] used to say to me all the time, ‘Nothing matters but the blues. You can go in all kinds of directions with music, but if you don’t have blues, you don’t have shit.’… And he also used to say something to me, which I thought was a really, really deep and important historical and contextual understanding of musicology in America, that there’s no such thing as Southern rock. All rock is Southern. It’s all from the South. All of it.” During Allman’s quest to preserve and build upon the blues tradition, he penned notable tracks like “Midnight Rider,” “Melissa,” and “Whipping Post.” He passed away in May due to a reoccurrence of liver cancer, leaving behind his posthumous release, Southern Blood, and a legacy of down-home soul that cuts right to the heart.

Glen Campbell (April 22, 1936 – August 8, 2017)

Selling 50 million records over six decades, the Rhinestone Cowboy reigned as country royalty, but is just as deserving of the title “Crossover King.” In the ‘60s, his guitar chops earned him a spot in the Wrecking Crew, a cast of sought-after session musicians in Los Angeles. As part of the Crew, Campbell played on infamous recordings like Frank Sinatra’s Strangers in the Night, the Beach Boys’ Pet Sounds, and Elvis Presley’s Viva Las Vegas. Toeing the line between pop and country, Campbell became a solo star in his own right, with a perfect croon that was unmatched. He was inducted into the Country Music Hall of Fame in 2005 and awarded with the Grammy Lifetime Achievement Award in 2012. In 2011, Campbell announced that he was diagnosed with Alzheimer’s and embarked on a Goodbye Tour, which was captured and subsequently released as a documentary film. He lived to see the June release of his final album, Adiós, which he recorded with the help of his longtime friend and banjo player, Carl Jackson. A pop star and a country legend, Campbell will forever be remembered as the down-to-earth farm boy from Arkansas who never lost sight of his roots.

Don Williams (May 27, 1939 – September 8, 2017)

The Gentle Giant got his start in the mid-60s, forming the Pozo-Seco Singers with Susan Taylor and Lofton Cline in his home state of Texas. After the trio went their separate ways, Williams moved to Nashville in the ‘70s and launched a prolific solo career that kept him on the top of the charts for decades. From 1974 to 1991 and over more than 40 albums and 50 singles, he never charted below number 22. Williams’ straightforward tunes and smooth vocal provided the framework for some of modern country’s biggest names, and his contributions were honored during his induction into the Country Music Hall of Fame in 2010.

Jessi Zazu (July 28, 1989 – September 12, 2017)

The word to describe Jessi Zazu is fearless. The Nashville-based singer/songwriter co-founded the band Those Darlins as a teenager alongside fellow musicians she met at the Southern Girls Rock Camp. Born out of an affinity for the Carter Family, Those Darlins sonically ran the gamut from rockabilly to growling punk and back again. On stage and off, Zazu was the epitome of grace and grit. An artist through and through, she was a staple in the Nashville scene who was just as prolific in the world of visual art as she was in songwriting. Those Darlins planned to go their separate ways, performing their final shows in March 2016 just weeks before Zazu was diagnosed with an aggressive form of cervical cancer. She publicly shared her diagnosis with a video last December in which she shaved her head and wore a t-shirt bearing the phrase “Ain’t Afraid” — a Those Darlins song written years prior. Zazu was a fighter and a creator until the very end; she continued coaching young women at the Girls Rock camp, recording solo music, and hosting art exhibitions. In her short 28 years, Zazu exuded a strength, determination, and passion that will serve as an example for young women for years to come.

Charles Bradley (November 5, 1948 – September 23, 2017)

James Brown’s frenetic set at the Apollo Theater on October 24, 1962 was given an official release the following year. One of the most acclaimed live albums of all time, its magnetism impacted generations of music fans, including a young Charles Bradley, who was in attendance at the show. In the years that followed, Bradley worked a series of odd jobs — from a cook to a James Brown impersonator — all while keeping his aspirations of a singing career in focus. Bradley’s big break finally came in the form of Gabriel Roth, who co-founded Daptone Records. Roth introduced Bradley to producer Tom Brenneck, and the result was Bradley’s debut album, No Time for Dreaming, released in 2011 when Bradley was 62 years old. Over the course of six years and two more albums, Bradley delivered captivating, worldly soul ballads that garnered him his own nickname — the Screaming Eagle of Soul.

Tom Petty (October 20, 1950 – October 2, 2017)

Tom Petty is a national treasure. Songs like “Mary Jane’s Last Dance,” “I Won’t Back Down,” “American Girl,” and “Free Fallin’” are so ingrained in the American fabric that it’s hard to imagine a time when you could turn on the radio and not hear Petty on the dial. After a chance encounter with Elvis Presley, Petty became interested in music, later dropping out of high school to join the band Mudcrutch. After its dissolution, he formed Tom Petty and the Heartbreakers — the platform which would solidify his status as a rock icon. He recorded two albums as part of the supergroup the Traveling Wilburys, which also included Bob Dylan, George Harrison, Jeff Lynne, and Roy Orbison, and was inducted into the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame in 2001. Petty and the Heartbreakers had just wrapped a 40th anniversary tour when he suffered a heart attack. Petty’s death came as a gut-wrenching shock, just a day after the mass shooting at the Route 91 Harvest Festival in Las Vegas that killed 58 people. But we can all find solace in Petty’s legacy, which is palpable. No doubt his contributions will continue to serve as mainstays in music for years to come.

Fats Domino (February 26, 1928 – October 24, 2017)

Fats Domino ushered in the early wave of rock ‘n’ roll, topping the charts in the ‘50s and ‘60s with “Blueberry Hill,” “Walking to New Orleans,” and “Blue Monday,” among others. His adept piano playing and hearty stage presence was infectious, and he was eclipsed on the charts only by Elvis Presley, coming in a close second. His New Orleans rhythm and blues captivated a wider audience and popular music was all the better for it. Rock ’n’ roll heavy hitters like John Lennon and Led Zeppelin later covered his work, and his accomplishments were recognized in 1986 when he became part of the first class of inductees into the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame. Fats’ brand of boogie woogie injected new life into pop, and his reverberations can still be felt today.

MIXTAPE: Bette Smith’s Soul Salvation

Posted on by Editor

Who doesn’t like soul music? Come on! My big brother Junior absolutely loved it, too. Also, he was my protector throughout my rough and tumble childhood growing up in gang-infested Bedford Stuyvesant, Brooklyn. I stood there, as he lay dying from kidney failure, under that heartless hospital sign that read, “Do Not Resuscitate.” I sang to him at his bedside at Kings County Hospital, trying to maintain my composure. At the time, I was completing my bachelor’s of science degree with an emphasis in creative arts therapy. Overcome with emotion, I sang to him our favorites songs. — Bette Smith

Donny Hathaway — “He Ain’t Heavy, He’s My Brother”

Sometimes this soul/gospel powerhouse moves me to tears, especially when Hathaway utters the title lines “He ain’t heavy, he’s my brother …” It only adds to the impact when I look at the profile of Hathaway and see the striking resemblance to my dear brother Junior. It’s like wow, wow, wow!

Otis Redding — “The Happy Song”

Yes, everyone knows Pharrell Williams’ recent hit with the similar title, but check out Otis’s brilliant soul ditty. Simply put, this song makes me feel happy whenever I’m down! Like Bounty, it’s the “quicker picker-upper!”

Bill Withers — “Ain’t No Sunshine”

I will never forget the “Do Not Resuscitate” request, which broke my heart on account of my big bother passing away just a week afterward. Now, every time I sing this song, I remember him on his deathbed, saying to me “Keep singing no matter what.” And especially this song. Now, wherever I travel for gigs, I hear that same old song playing on the radio, or by a live band at Louis Armstrong Airport in New Orleans, or pumping through the speakers at the Memphis airport, or the t-shirt store in Hawaii, or at the bar at La Guardia. I am grateful that he’s letting me know that he’s still with me. And Junior continues to make his presence known — loud and clear.

Esther Philips — “Try Me” 

I loved Esther Philips as soon as I heard her sassy and soulful voice. The way she enunciates her words is just so classy. I very much relate to her cheeky and heartfelt style — often delivering it at the same time! See also “Just Like a Fish.”

Otis Redding — “Try a Little Tenderness”

Although I recall hearing this song in classic movies like The Crying Game, it wasn’t until earlier this year I discovered, on YouTube, Otis Redding’s live in London version. Mr. Redding does like a gazillion encores and really brings the house down. What an inspiring performance! It’s really influenced the way I delivered my songs from that point on. Otis encourages me to “break down the wall” that separates the singer from the audience.

Sugar Pie DeSanto / Etta James — “In The Basement”

This is one of the ultimate “get-down” songs. But, what else could I expect from collaboration between two soul goddesses — Etta James and Sugar Pie DeSanto?

Nina Simone — “Ain’t Got No — I Got Life” 

What can I say about this inspirational song that hasn’t already been said by the original High Priestess of Soul? It’s one of those songs that gets you up and off to work on a rainy Monday morning, when you’d rather call in sick and stay in bed all day. (Or why not just stay in bed all day and listen to it?) Either way, it makes you feel grateful just to be alive.

Charles Bradley — “Changes”

This tune was written by heavy metal legends Black Sabbath, but Bradley transforms it into an iconic soulful vibe with his poignant voice. It makes me experience the emotion of regret for every experience of deep friendship that I somehow let slip away because of my inherent shyness. Ugh!

Wilson Pickett — “Mama Told Me”

This song has a fiery, up-beat tempo complete with Wilson’s smooth timeless lyrical interpretation, which I enjoy so much.

Nina Simone — “I Put a Spell on You”

This hauntingly “gutsy” song makes me feel empowered and vulnerable — simultaneously.

Etta James — “I’d Rather Go Blind”

A lawyer who moonlights as my stand-by drummer once said to me, “I never really understood the meaning of that song, until I heard you sing it.” What a compliment! This tune, which I was once hesitant to perform because it’s emotionally demanding, really gets to me. Now I love performing it, as well as listening to it. It’s the ultimate “break up” song.

Danny White — “Kiss Tomorrow Goodbye” 

Songs like this remind me of when my Muhammad Ali-looking big brother tapped his size 15 foot along the cold, hard, aluminum hospital bed frame in time to my singing classic soul tunes. And, like the proverbial “Little Drummer Boy,” I sang my best for him. But he winced with pain soon as I came to the end of my chanting. Then I sung one last verse before saying goodbye for what I didn’t know would turn out to be the last time.

Photo credit: Shervin Lainez

BGS Class of 2016: Albums

Posted on by Editor

Though 2016 took a lot of amazing artists from us, it also gave some bright, new voices a chance to shine through and some familiar, steady ones the opportunity to re-emerge. From Courtney Marie Andrews and Margo Price to Dwight Yoakam and Charles Bradley, the BGS Class of 2016 represents the wonderful and wide spectrum of roots music albums released this year. Though the BGS team votes on our class favorites, aside from the top pick, the albums are listed alphabetically, rather than ranked.

Valedictorian/Prom Queen/Class President: Courtney Marie Andrews, Honest Life

Sometimes, folks encounter something — a piece of art, a landscape, what have you — so beautiful that it's hard to put the experience into words. More often than not, those same folks resort to comparison as the only means of getting their points across. That's probably why you've seen Courtney Marie Andrews compared to Joni Mitchell so many times: Her latest album, Honest Life, while certainly, at times, reminiscent of Our Lady in Blue, is so good that it must be explained with an invocation of one of our greatest living songwriters. And, hey, that's not such a bad spot for Andrews to find herself in, but don't let it fool you: The Seattle-based songwriter — no knocks to Mitchell, of course — is a singular voice, one that can only be understood by being heard. — Brittney McKenna

Best Americana Mother Lode: Amanda Shires, My Piece of Land

Amanda Shires is a pro. Since landing her first major gig at the age of 15, she’s recorded and toured with heavyweights like John Prine and Billy Joe Shaver while forging a career as an artist in her own right. On her latest solo album, My Piece of Land, the singer/songwriter/fiddle extraordinaire stakes her claim. Composed while she was homebound during her final months of pregnancy, the record is a stunning rumination on love, lust, family, and home. Produced by Nashville powerhouse Dave Cobb, each song has space to move and breathe, placing both Shires’ serene vocals and songwriting prowess front and center. — Desiré Moses

Best Album to Sip Whiskey To: Birger Olsen, The Lights Just Buzz

Arriving out of Portland, Oregon, and touting his music as “porch blues,” Birger Olsen flew under the radar in 2016, but his debut album, The Lights Just Buzz, is exactly what anyone craving a glass of whiskey and a moment of reverie will appreciate. With a voice close in tone and style to Tony Joe White and a meandering way with melodies and words, Olsen’s six songs offer listeners an electrifying, if unexpected delivery. It takes him over two minutes to introduce his voice on the album’s first track, “The Telephone Dangles on the Line,” whereas on “Liza” he proclaims his desire in as understated yet romantic a way possible. Olsen may build an onomatopoeic sensation into his title, but it’s a feeling that reverberates throughout his entire album. — Amanda Wicks

Most Likely to Remind You of Someone You Know (And Wish You'd Never See Again): Brandy Clark, Big Day in a Small Town

What Brandy Clark pulled off with Big Day in a Small Town was something special. On one hand, she offered up radio-friendly fare that was as catchy as it comes. On the other, she laid down some stone-cold country cuts that would easily stand up to the classics. To do that, an artist must have a rare strand of talent in their DNA — one that follows the muse but feels the mainstream. Johnny Cash, Loretta Lynn, Willie Nelson, Dolly Parton … that's the artistic tradition Clark is part of, and it's incredibly exciting to watch her step into that lineage as both a singer and a songwriter. — Kelly McCartney

Most Likely to Make You Crave Biscuits and Gravy: Brent Cobb, Shine on Rainy Day

It's been a banner year for the Cobb family. Producer Dave released his own album, Southern Family, while lending a hand in the studio to artists like Amanda Shires, Lake Street Dive, and Lori McKenna. His cousin Brent had a breakout 2016, too, first earning attention for his Southern Family contribution, "Down Home," shortly followed by heaps of acclaim for his major-label debut Shine on Rainy Day. That acclaim is warranted, as Cobb, who has penned songs for everyone from Luke Bryan to Miranda Lambert, stitches together nuanced portraits of daily life with thoughtful lyrics, simple arrangements and a unique, unassuming voice that's sure to stick with you long after your first listen. — BMc

Best Supergroup Trio Since, Well, Trio: case/lang/veirs

k.d. lang gets the credit for envisioning this illustrious collaboration with Neko Case and Laura Veirs. And, man, what a stroke of creative genius. Across the collection, each woman brings their unique gifts to bear — lang's stunning vocals, Veirs' quirky melodies, and Case's indie sensibilities — the melding of which is so spot-on in "Atomic Number" that it's hard not to linger there for far too long. Further in, though, "Song for Judee," "Blue Fires," "Greens of June," "Down I-5," and more take turns captivating the listener with their always delightful and sometimes devasting timbres. — KMc

Best Perspectives on a Historically Bad Year: Charles Bradley, Changes; Mavis Staples, Livin' on a High Note; William Bell, This Is Where I Live

Soul music has always thrived as a communal medium, one that can speak deftly to individual experiences within much broader social and racial contexts. Its ability to invite empathy and compassion — and even outrage — made albums by Mavis Staples, William Bell, and Charles Bradley sound like wise commentary on tumultuous times. The folk-gospel sound pioneered by the Staple Singers in the 1960s is just as relevant and radical now as it was then, as is the moral nobility that drove their music. Mavis captures that exuberance on her latest, Livin’ on a High Note, singing like social justice was a rejuvenating endeavor — which it really is. Especially on “Take Us Back” and “History Now” (penned by Neko Case), she sounds like the conscience of a nation that really ought to know better.

William Bell is better known as a songwriter than as a recording artist, but penning both “Born Under a Bad Sign” and “You Don’t Miss Your Water” might actually qualify him for sainthood. His latest release, This Is Where I Live, is his best, a collection of carefully crafted and beautifully sung songs that commingle the personal with the public. The title track recounts his days as a teenage hitmaker and the trials that followed, but by the album’s end he’s singing, “People everywhere just want to go home!” and putting his finger right on the very thing that unites us.

At 68, Charles Bradley is the baby of this bunch, but he brings every moment of his hard and remarkable life to bear on his third solo album, the mighty Changes, one of the most unflinchingly candid and unfailingly generous albums of the year. The title track, a cover of the Black Sabbath ballad, was originally intended as a heartbreaking comment on the death of his mother, which means his performance will reduce you to a puddle of tears. And yet, in 2016, the song became bigger than him, bigger than all of us: It sounds like a new national anthem for a country that is still trying to find a way to be truly exceptional. — Stephen Deusner

Most Unexpected Masterpiece: Chely Wright, I Am the Rain

In Chely Wright's country catalog, there are very few signposts pointing toward I Am the Rain. Sure, "Picket Fences" is a great song. Yes, Lifted Off the Ground has some solid moments. But this … this is a whole other ball of wax, right here. Teaming up with Joe Henry, Wright pours her heart and soul into every line and lick on this record, each song ebbing and flowing through a lifetime of pain and purpose. The natural plaintiveness of Wright's voice and the raw vulnerability of her writing both rest so comfortably within this more Americana-tinged sonic space that it's easy to see where she's going from here. — KMc

Best Bluegrass Tribute to Prince You Didn't Know You Needed: Dwight Yoakam, Swimmin' Pools, Movie Stars…

Leave it to a Canadian tuxedo-ed Los Angeleno to bring us one of the year's best bluegrass albums. Culling from decades' worth of deep cuts, Dwight Yoakam reimagined a number of his personal favorites from his own catalog, string-band style. It harkens back to the Kentucky-born artist's roots, and you can practically hear Yoakam's heart aching for the hollers of his hometown of Pikeville in his voice. And, as a small salve on the gaping wound that has been 2016, his simple, mournful cover of Prince's "Purple Rain" is one of only a handful of tributes to one of this year's many fallen soldiers truly worthy of its honoree. — BMc

Most Likely to Please the Traditionalists … and their Kids: The Earls of Leicester, Rattle & Roar

The Earls of Leicester’s Rattle & Roar is a fresh batch of Flatt and Scruggs songs. Started as a tribute to the Foggy Mountain Boys, the Earls have captured attention from festival to festival with their charming get-up of Western colonel ties, button-up shirts, coats, and hats. Fiddle, banjo, and mandolin heavy tunes about ex-convicts and prayers from mom abound as they reel you in. The sound on their sophomore record is that of traditional bluegrassers' dreams. Though the style is Trad and the tunes are oldies, they’ve managed to freshen up the songs to appeal to a new generation of listeners with honky tonk and gospel influences. What’s old always becomes new again. — Josephine Wood

Best Soundtrack for a Road Trip to Literally Anywhere: Hiss Golden Messenger, Heart Like a Levee

For several years now, M.C. Taylor has been balancing family life, a full-time job, and an increasingly popular indie-folk band — Hiss Golden Messenger. Many singer/songwriters have sung about the small compromises and big consequences of that struggle, but few have done so with quite as much fortitude and candor. “Should I walk on the water,” he asks, not quite rhetorically, on “Cracked Windshield,” “with so many people living just above the water line?” Heart Like a Levee is one of those albums where the liveliest songs sound the most burdened and the quietest songs the most jubilant, celebrating the fact that he has something to commiserate. — SD

Most Melodically Devastating Return: John Paul White, Beulah

The question was never whether the Civil Wars’ John Paul White could stand alone without his former partner, Joy Williams. But if ever doubt existed, Beulah served up the answer on a polished silver tray with mint juleps, to boot. White retreated to his native Muscle Shoals, Alabama, after he and Williams went their separate ways in 2014, and has emerged two years later with his second solo album. The titles alone — “Make You Cry,” “Hope I Die,” and “Hate the Way You Love Me” — suggest a dark album, but White’s strong ear for clever riffs and their expansive arrangements balances the lyrics’ brooding moments with melodies that draw upon traditional country, indie folk, and more. There’s an element of the sublime about Beulah, as if White, content from his current position, can look upon life’s more baleful moments and find the beauty within, which he does time and again. — AW

Most Striking New Voice: Kaia Kater, Nine Pin

At just 23 years old, Kaia Kater writes and plays with the virtuosity of an old-time veteran. Born of African-Caribbean descent in Quebec, she moved to West Virginia to tap into the roots of Appalachia and recently graduated from the first Appalachian Studies Program at the area’s Davis and Elkins College. With her low vocal, attention-grabbing cadence, and evocative banjo, Kater delivers stunners like the title track from her latest album, Nine Pin, which begins, “These clothes you gave me don’t fit right. The belt is loose and the noose is tight. Got drunk out looking for a fight. I’m soft and heavy as the night,” proving she’s the voice we need right now. — DM

Most Self-Empowering Kiss-Off: Kelsey Waldon, I've Got a Way

"You can't place a crown on a head of a clown and then hope it turns out to be king," sings Kelsey Waldon on "False King," a devilish track off her sophomore set, I've Got a Way. Waldon may not have written this with president-elect Donald Trump in mind, but, like on many of the Kentucky native's songs, there are layers of meaning and purpose in her smart and witty metaphors. It's that kind of point of view that makes Waldon's writing evergreen — and, layered with heavy steel guitar, jangly telecaster riffs, and plenty of lonesome twang, able to both conjure up '70s Nashville while remaining in her own unique lane. She's all by herself, indeed. — Marissa Moss

Best Couples' Therapy Set to Music: Lori McKenna, The Bird & the Rifle

Prolific and profound songwriter Lori McKenna has captured some of her deepest words of wisdom and stitched it together in a kind of beautiful needlepoint. The Bird & the Rifle is full of poignant lyricism as only a songwriter of McKenna’s caliber can produce, and even while her songs may not explicitly be intended as advice, sage messages exist throughout each one. There’s her warning about loving someone who kills the best part about you in “The Bird & the Rifle” or about not settling for shitty love on “Halfway Home,” or her chiding self-explanatory “Old Men Young Women.” No matter the subject, McKenna’s exacting phrases do what listeners need of music: articulate those experiences that leave us adrift in our own feelings, and help us find a bridge to understanding. — AW

Most Likely to Kick Your Ass, Figuratively and Literally: Lydia Loveless, Real

“My music is not the most optimistic or mood-lightening in the world,” Lydia Loveless explained in a BGS interview earlier this year. “But I do think it’s about that very Midwestern struggle, that everything-is-so-hard attitude.” By embracing this aspect of her neck of the woods — specifically, Columbus, Ohio, which she describes, almost glowingly, as “such a bitter and pessimistic town” — Loveless has found her truest subject and has made one of the toughest, boldest, and most badass singer/songwriter albums of the year. A collection of finely crafted songs about incredibly messy emotions, Real presents her as the rightful heir to that gaggle of flyover roots rockers from the late ‘70s and early ‘80s, dudes like John Mellencamp (minus the regional jingoism) and Tom Petty (not technically Midwestern, but come on), except with more confrontational wit in her lyrics and bite in her vocals. — SD

Most Stunning Debut to Be Snubbed So Broadly by Tone-Deaf Institutions: Margo Price, Midwest Farmer's Daughter

If you can't tell who Margo Price is three minutes into her debut solo LP, Midwest Farmer's Daughter, then you probably still think that Bruce Willis is alive and well at the end of Sixth Sense. As the soft pulsing bassline on the album's opener, "Hands of Time," creeps in and her chilling, powerhouse vocals take stage, it's instantly clear that this is the work of a singular artist who heads back into battle despite her wounds, spinning her heartbreak and misfortune into songs that are as timeless as they are completely au courant. Midwest Farmer's Daughter twangs as hard as it rocks, from barnburners like "About to Find Out" to the ferocious soul-country groove of "Four Years of Chances." Price might lay it all on the line here, but the beauty of this album is that, while we can understand her, we can never, ever, predict her. — MM

Best Musical Chemistry: My Bubba, Big, Bad, Good

This Scandinavian duo commands the stage like none other, bringing a hush over the crowd at Third Man Records’ Blue Room during AmericanaFest to deliver a bedtime lullaby. It’s not that these two dainty gals are screaming for attention; in fact, they barely speak much at all. But their music is lyrically striking — using what they call the “fragile challenge.” Baring it all in their lyrics and vocals, My Bubba puts their fragility on the line on Big, Bad, Good, and it works. Their blend of old country, blues, and bluegrass is particularly entrancing because the production makes it feel like they are singing directly to you. They’ve mastered the use of silences through their use of minimal instrumentation and two seraphic voices in harmony. — JW

Best Way to Soundtrack an Apocalypse: Parker Millsap, The Very Last Day

We didn’t know what a doozie of a year 2016 would be in virtually all categories when Parker Millsap delivered his outstanding, 11-song sophomore release The Very Last Day in March, but it’s safe to say that the 23-year-old’s marrying of complex characters with dark narratives and whooping, guttural twang made the idea of a modern doomsday a hell of a lot more artful. Album standout “Heaven Sent” details the plight of a young gay man coming out to an evangelical father, while Millsap’s take on the African-American spiritual “You Gotta Move” employs his howling vocals over sparse instrumentals to transform the song’s message from one of Godly comfort to one of a creeping, inevitable descent. For an album crafted around the end of days, The Very Last Day is a good indicator that this promising young voice is only just revving up. — DO

Most Likely to Score a Critically Acclaimed Indie Movie: Parsonsfield, Blooming through the Black

Before Massachusetts five-piece Parsonsfield sat down to create September’s Blooming through the Black, they spent a year playing the same music hundreds of times for a theatre production — a practice that reveals itself on the record in tight harmonies and a knack for the understated. Soft vocals and minimal accompaniment on “Don’t Get Excited” underscore a message of simplicity and minimalism. “Hot Air Balloon” simulates the airy, floating sound of its title, sounding like the zoom-out scene of long-fought romantic tale. None of these are songs that sound the same, though, with upbeat numbers like the title track showing off the band’s range and pointing to their capability for a barn-burning live show. — DO

Best Multi-National Incorporation: River Whyless, We All the Light

Opening with an unplugged vocal harmony that quickly layers African-influenced percussion, We All the Light quickly moves from American to World Folk. Not only is the album an upbeat, string-heavy, shimmering beacon of hope musically, but it also boasts lyrics that everyone in the midst of post-election fallout should soak in. As member Daniel Shearin put it, “We are all the light and are trying really hard to put that idea into practice, seeing everybody as equal and being as inclusive as you can.” It’s nice to remember we’re all in this big world together, and River Whyless reaffirms that message, filtered through a world lens. — JW

Most Likely to Go Electric: Sara Watkins, Young in All the Wrong Ways

From the opening strains of the title track, Young in All the Wrong Ways delivers on its promise that Sara Watkins is all grown up, personally and professionally. She also has something to say. A few somethings, actually. With a stronger voice than we've heard from her, both metaphorically and otherwise, Watkins works through the 10-song cycle using that voice in ways alternately cutting and caring, fierce and fragile. Anyone who can listen to tunes like "Without a Word," "The Love That Got Away," and "Like New Year's Day" and yet be unswayed to fan-dom might need to have their pulse checked. This is simply a beautiful record from an ever-evolving, always exciting artist. — KMc

Most Likely To Sweep You Away: Sarah Jarosz, Undercurrent

Although Undercurrent is Sarah Jarosz’s fourth full-length, she’s described it as a record of firsts. It’s the first album the singer/songwriter/multi-instrumentalist has written while not simultaneously being in school. (She recently graduated with honors from the New England Conservatory of Music.) It’s the first record she’s released without any covers. And it’s her first release since moving to New York, whose surroundings heavily influenced this batch of songs. While the album is wrought with impressive features by the likes of Sara Watkins and Parker Millsap, it’s Jarosz’s smoky alto and ever-adept musicianship that make this record a standout. — DM


Most Likely to Move Your Heart and Hips: St. Paul and the Broken Bones, Sea of Noise

When St. Paul and the Broken Bones danced onto the scene with their 2014 debut Half the City, the band's vintage soul sound felt familiar yet groundbreaking. But as old-school influences become more common in today's up-and-coming performers, the band's sophomore effort called for a bit more depth — and Sea of Noise delivered. Songs like "Brain Matter" and "Waves" pay lyrical mind to violence and political unrest, while songs like "Flow with It (You Got Me Feelin' Like)" are an unmistakeable call to get on your feet and dance. Sea of Noise was just the right combination of body-moving soul goodness and heart-wrenching lyrical testament to elevate the already heavenly St. Paul and his Broken Bones to an even higher calling. — DO

Best Compass for Those Adrift on Music Row: Sturgill Simpson, A Sailor's Guide to Earth

Sturgill Simpson said that his third LP, A Sailor's Guide to Earth, was a gift to his newborn son — an atlas, so to speak, to the world that lay before him. The gift to the rest of us is that Simpson's planet — built by string-scorching country, fiery soul, and perfectly swanky horns courtesy of the Dap-Kings — isn’t one that many of us are lucky enough to belong to. But like his breakthrough, Metamodern Sounds in Country Music, A Sailor's Guide is transformative: Anchored by an oceanic metaphor, it's at times outlaw funk ("Keep It Between the Lines," that's like Waylon Jennings waltzing into 1960s Detroit), sentimental doo-wop ("All Around You"), and balls-to-the-wall bliss ("Call to Arms"). If everyone in Nashville navigated like Simpson, we'd be dealing in tempests, not truck songs. — MM

Best Album to Distract Your Own Dysfunctional Southern Family from Talking About the Election During the Holidays: Various Artists, Southern Family

It says a lot about producer Dave Cobb — the Americana super-producer responsible from major releases from Jason Isbell, Chris Stapleton, and more — that he was able to release Southern Family under his own name (or, technically, as "Various Artists"). Recruiting a who's-who of critically acclaimed country and roots musicians ain't easy, and getting that bunch to fork over great songs for someone else's album is damn near impossible. And, man, are these songs great. Morgane Stapleton's Chris-assisted "You Are My Sunshine" shows that her husband isn't the only one around the house with some serious pipes. Anderson East's "Learning" is one of his best tracks to date. Brandy Clark's "I Cried" is a straight-up stunner. If there are any lame ducks, it's Zac Brown's contribution "Grandma's Garden"; but, hey, with competition from Jason Isbell, Miranda Lambert, and Brent Cobb, the deck wasn't stacked in Brown's favor. — BMc

Photo credit: j.o.h.n. walker via Foter.com / CC BY

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The Heart and Soul of Daptone Records

Posted on by Editor

A young girl asks her mother, "How can Santa Claus visit them, when they don’t have a chimney? How can he leave presents under the tree, when he can’t even get into their apartment?" These are common questions most parents hear around the holidays, but it resonates powerfully in Sharon Jones & the Dap-Kings’ new Christmas chestnut, “Ain’t No Chimneys in the Projects.” “I said, ‘Mama, how can this be?” Jones sings in that outsized voice of hers, gift-wrapping every syllable for the listener as the horns flare and flash around her, the rhythm section grooves and the backup singers repeat her not-quite-rhetorical question. Somehow she conveys the innocence of the daughter pondering the rules of Christmas, as well as the affectionate concern of the mother who concocts a story about a magic chimney.

“Ain’t No Chimneys in the Projects” could easily have been cheesy and goofy, especially with its references to the projects and the ghetto — terms that sound antiquated in the context of a Christmas tune. Fortunately, the musicians play it straight, grooving hard to reinforce the powerful emotional resonance of the lyrics. It’s only when the little girl grows up and stops believing in Santa that she starts believing in something even more magical: It was her own mother who saved money throughout the year and put those presents under the tree. “Mama, now I know that you were the one!”

In addition to appearing on the new Oxford American Music Issue CD sampler, the song anchors It’s a Holiday Soul Party, the first holiday album from the venerable indie R&B label Daptone Records. It’s billed to Sharon Jones & the Dap-Kings, but it sounds like they invited the entire roster: Charles Bradley testifies mightily on “World of Love,” Saun & Starr harmonize beautifully on “Big Bulbs,” and seemingly the entire office staff sits in with the Dap-Kings. The album more than lives up to its party designation: With its lively energy and inventive interpretations of well-worn carols (This “White Christmas” is more Tina Turner than Bing Crosby.), it’s easily the best holiday album of the year.

“There’s some cute stuff on there and there’s some traditional stuff, as well,” says Neil Sugarman, who co-founded Daptone, produced the new record, and played saxophone on almost every song. “The nice thing is that there was no pressure. It was very impromptu. We just went in and jammed. And Sharon sings her ass off.”

The same, of course, could be said of nearly every Daptone release. Since it opened in 2001, the label has cornered the market on neotraditional soul music while also showing how loose that word “soul” can be. It obviously applies to the Stax- and Motown-derived R&B sung by Sharon Jones, Charles Bradley, and Saun & Starr. But it also includes the instrumental grooves of the El Michels Affair and the Sugarman 3, as well as the raw gospel of the Como Mamas and Naomi Shelton — even the cinematic funk of the Budos Band and Antibalas. Their records all sound like they could have been made in the 1960s or 1970s then excavated by extremely dedicated crate diggers at estate sales or junk stores. Yet, the music remains anchored in the 21st century and targeted to a contemporary audience.

It’s not a soul revival, precisely because no one at Daptone believes that soul needs to be revived. “People don’t say jazz music is retro or Latin music is retro,” says Sugarman. “But they do say soul music is retro.” It’s an odd popular prejudice, one that Daptone combats with music that consciously emphasizes the past while remaining doggedly engaged with the present. “It’s absolutely roots music,” he says, noting that it’s more urban than rural, more ghetto than holler. “We wear our influences on our sleeves, and there’s a lineage that we pay homage to every time we pull our instruments out of our cases. We try to groove as hard as the records that we love.”

When they formed Daptone nearly 15 years ago, Sugarman and Gabriel Roth tried to emulate the labels they loved, establishing a particular sound, a strong brand, and a loyal following that would take a chance on unknown artists. Charged with running a business, they both remained musicians first and foremost. Roth (sometimes known as Bosco Mann) plays bass, Sugarman blows the sax. “At this point in my life, I like having both. I like controlling the business and controlling my destiny as a recording artist. I love getting on the road with people like Sharon and Charles, and getting the kind of insight into their music that I couldn’t get if I was just sitting in the office answering emails and writing checks.”

For most of its life, Daptone only signed New York artists, many of them older and practicing their craft on the margins of the music industry. Charles Bradley was trained as a carpenter and had been hired to help Roth and Sugarman build a new studio, but he turned out to be an amazing singer whose live shows have galvanized audiences around the world. “He’s the guy we would call any time we needed help. We loved this guy so we wanted to work for this guy. We wanted to help him build a career.”

Similarly, Saundra “Saun” Williams and Starr Duncan Lowe originally came into the Daptone fold as back-up singers in the Dap-Kings, after having performed for decades as the Good 'N Plenty Girls. They quickly established themselves as a core part of the band’s sound — both in the studio and on the stage. “We always talked about making a record with them, but it takes a while to figure out who these people are,” says Sugarman, noting that it took them five years to plan, write, and record their debut, Take a Closer Look, released in May 2015. It was worth the wait, as the album reveals two spry singers with incredible chemistry, not to mention a band that adapted to complement their dynamic.

But the present is not what the past used to be. The market is changing, with newer labels like Colemine and 180 Proof crowding the scene, soul revivalists like Leon Bridges jumping straight to major labels, and consumers relying more and more on streams rather than outright purchases. “I’m not going to lie — it’s getting tricky,” Sugarman says. “Streaming services are taking a big chunk out of our revenue. When you look at the numbers, close to two million people per day click on a Daptone song. It’s exciting to see those numbers. The audience is there, but we’re not getting compensated. It could get to the point where it’s not sustainable as a business anymore, so you have to figure out how to keep putting records out.”

One way of surviving is to grow and expand, albeit very carefully and very gradually. In 2015, Daptone founded an imprint — Wick Records — to release 7-inch singles by New York garage rock bands, starting with a ferocious debut by the Mystery Lights. The label also signed a reggae band called the Frightnrs, whose first full-length is slated for release in 2016. Another upcoming release stands out even more: James Hunter’s Daptone debut, Hold On!, will hit stores (and, of course, streaming services) in Feburary. “He’s an English artist, so he’s the first artist we’ve signed who’s not from New York.”

Sugarman insists that the key to Daptone’s success has been — and will continue to be — its emphasis on community over market shares or compensation. “Not only do we need to like someone’s music, but they have to function within this family. That’s the way it has to be for the music to progress and stay honest. I don’t think we could have pulled off Daptone any other way.”

Photo courtesy of the artist