Okay but really, You Gotta Hear This! Our weekly premiere and new music roundup is simply packed with entirely legendary bluegrass in this edition of the column.
Kicking us off, award-winning husband-and-wife duo Benson – made up of Kristin Scott Benson and Wayne Benson – offer their rendition of a Harley Allen song, “Things Have Changed,” with Dustin Pyrtle lending a perfect lead vocal to the track. The Seldom Scene, an iconic bluegrass band for now more than 50 years, release their brand new album today. We’re celebrating Remains to Be Scene by highlighting “Hard Travelin’,” a Woody Guthrie-written number that you, like Ron Stewart, may recognize from Flatt & Scruggs’s discography.
Fiddle is represented in force this week, too, with fiddler and multi-instrumentalist Andy Leftwich racing through an original, “Highland Rim,” with Cody Kilby, Matt Menefee, and Byron House along for the ride. Jason Carter & Michael Cleveland are releasing their debut duo album today as well, so we’ve cued up “In the Middle of Middle Tennessee” from that stellar project. Written by Darrell Scott, it features Carter’s tasty baritone and country star Charlie Worsham (who has strong bluegrass roots) on harmony.
To round out our collection this week, Joe Mullins & the Radio Ramblers preview their new bluegrass gospel album, Thankful and Blessed, set for release next week on March 21. “He Sees the Little Sparrow Fall” is a superlative example of the gospel and sacred traditions in bluegrass, a little concentrated dose of Friday revival for the end of your work week.
Every single track herein is bluegrass of the highest quality, so you know what we’re going to say… You Gotta Hear This!
Benson, “Things Have Changed”
Artist:Benson Hometown: Boiling Springs, South Carolina Song: “Things Have Changed” Release Date: March 14, 2025 Label: Mountain Home Music Company
In Their Words: “We’re excited for this song to finally come out. We love the lead vocal by Dustin Pyrtle and the sentiment of ‘Things Have Changed’ is universal. It seems things do change so fast these days. Downtown Nashville is different every time I go! But even in small towns, you feel it, both physically and relationally with the people who live there. I love the line, ‘I’m sort of glad that Mom and Dad ain’t around.’ That melancholy embodies the mood of this guy who goes back home and feels an overall sense of loss. Wayne and I love to play this slower tempo on mandolin and banjo. He gets to tremolo and I get to play fun chord-based banjo. I always enjoy playing this kind of banjo backup.” – Kristin Scott Benson
“I’ve always loved Harley Allen and certainly do love this song. Dustin Pyrtle seemed like the perfect singer to reach out to and man did he ever deliver the goods on this one!” – Wayne Benson
Track Credits: Wayne Benson – Mandolin Kristin Scott Benson – Banjo Cody Kilby – Acoustic Tony Creasman – Drums Kevin McKinnon – Bass Dustin Pyrtle – Vocal
Carter & Cleveland, “In the Middle of Middle Tennessee”
Artist:Jason Carter & Michael Cleveland Hometown: Nashville, Tennessee (Jason); Charlestown, Indiana (Michael) Song: “In the Middle of Middle Tennessee” Album:Carter & Cleveland Release Date: March 14, 2025 Label: Fiddle Man Records
In Their Words: “This is a fun song that transports me to a place in my mind where I’d love to be – stuck in the middle of Middle Tennessee. Special thanks to Charlie Worsham for singing with me on this track. It’s one of the highlights of the entire record for me! I never had the chance to meet Darrell Scott’s cat, Bobtail, but somehow, I feel like I’ve seen him before. Thank you, Darrell, for writing this song about him!” – Jason Carter
Track Credits: Jason Carter – Lead vocal, fiddle Michael Cleveland – Fiddle Charlie Worsham – Harmony vocal Sam Bush – Mandolin Jerry Douglas – Dobro Bryan Sutton – Guitar Cory Walker – Banjo Alan Bartram – Bass
Andy Leftwich, “Highland Rim”
Artist:Andy Leftwich Hometown: Carthage, Tennessee Song: “Highland Rim” Release Date: March 14, 2025 Label: Mountain Home Music Company
In Their Words: “I’ve always loved the intensity of a fast-paced instrumental and we hold nothing back on this one. Named after a raceway close to home where I grew up, I thought this one perfectly described the rush that you get from going fast. I wanted a song on this new project where we can go absolutely bananas and I feel like we captured it on this one!” – Andy Leftwich
Track Credits: Andy Leftwich – Fiddle, mandolin Byron House – Upright bass Cody Kilby – Acoustic guitar Matt Menefee – Banjo
Joe Mullins & the Radio Ramblers, “He Sees the Little Sparrow Fall”
Artist:Joe Mullins & The Radio Ramblers Hometown: Xenia, Ohio Song: “He Sees The Little Sparrow Fall” Album:Thankful and Blessed Release Date: March 21, 2025 Label: Billy Blue Records
In Their Words: “It’s so easy to sing a song of gratitude and celebration when we consider the beauty of creation. Our friend, songwriter Conrad Fisher, lives in a gorgeous valley surrounded by the mountains of Pennsylvania. No matter where we look around the world, seeing God’s magnificent beauty in creation is easy and worthy of our praise. A new song with an old-time flavor and a universal message opens our new album, ‘He Sees the Little Sparrows Fall.’” – Joe Mullins
Track Credits: Joe Mullins – Vocal, banjo Adam McIntosh – Lead vocal, guitar Chris Davis – Vocal, mandolin Jason Barie – Fiddle Zach Collier – Bass
The Seldom Scene, “Hard Travelin'”
Artist:The Seldom Scene Hometown: Bethesda, Maryland Song: “Hard Travelin'” Album:Remains to be Scene Release Date: March 14, 2025 Label: Smithsonian Folkways
In Their Words: “This song comes from a Flatt & Scruggs album of the same title, circa 1963. Written by Woody Guthrie, the song was first recorded in 1947. Anyone who knows me knows how much I love Flatt & Scruggs and this is one of my favorites from the early 1960s when they were still plowing bluegrass, but using material from a broad range of writers.” – Ron Stewart
Photo Credit: Andy Leftwich by Erick Anderson; Carter & Cleveland by Emma McCoury.
A big night for country music ended up being a big night for bluegrass as well when Sierra Hull, Molly Tuttle, and Bronwyn Keith-Hynes joined country star Dierks Bentley on the CMA Awards stage for a show-stopping performance. The quartet, backed by Bentley’s band (including the evening’s winner of Musician of the Year, Charlie Worsham) played a rousing rendition of Tom Petty’s “American Girl,” a huge single for Bentley this year from the compilation album, Petty Country.
Bentley has released plenty of ‘grassy and string band tracks across his career, especially on his 2010 album Up on the Ridge, and he is close friends with many bluegrass musicians and legends. He used to haunt the World Famous Station Inn in Nashville well before his fame and recognition – and well after, too. He’s even gifted commemorative hit records to the bar (which still hang on the walls today) and he’s appeared at the divey listening room dozens of times. He’s also a friend of the McCoury family and has collaborated with Del and sons on multiple occasions. In addition, he’s brought Tuttle and her band Golden Highway out on the road as an opening act repeatedly, and he guested on Keith-Hynes’ now GRAMMY-nominated album, I Built a World.
Tuttle even shared an image to social media from a past MerleFest where Bentley can be seen braving the North Carolina rain to catch her band’s mainstage set in the very front row of the VIP section. It’s no surprise that he would tap Hull, Tuttle, and Keith-Hynes for the CMA Awards, even if the context feels a bit out-of-left-field for diehard bluegrassers.
“American Girl” was truly a highlight of the star-studded awards show, which despite more than a few perceived flubs and snubs highlighted plenty of Good Country, Americana, roots music – and yes, bluegrass! Here’s to plenty more primetime television moments in the future highlighting incredible bluegrass pickers such as these.
For years, Jett Holden dreamt and dreamt about making a living through music, but everywhere he turned he was met with doubt, subtle prejudice, and closeted racism that left him running on empty and searching for something new.
Following a journey to rock bottom, Holden is back stronger than ever on The Phoenix, a 10-song collection that catalogs his rise from the ashes and spotlights the community that embraced him when it seemed nobody else would. Told through a mix of countrypolitan, rock, punk, metal, and R&B sounds, the record is proof that there are no boundaries to who, where, and what good music can come from – and that we all benefit from everyone having a seat at the table, sharing their stories and perspectives.
“This album reflects who I’ve been throughout my entire life,” Holden explains to Good Country. “It’s been really cool to look back on when and where my different influences come from while bringing these songs to life. For example, ‘Karma’ is definitely Paramore meets Stapleton, while ‘West Virginia Sky’ harkens to my Tracy Chapman and Jim Croce influences.”
Fresh off a move to Nashville, Holden spoke with GC over the phone about the doubt and prejudice he’s faced along his musical journey, his work with the Black Opry, using music to heal past trauma, and more.
There’s a lot going on in your song ‘Scarecrow,’ from exploring your family’s reaction to coming out to masking the crippling weight of other’s doubts of what you’re capable of – along with a slew of Wizard of Oz references to the scarecrow, tin man, and cowardly lion. Mind sharing how all those ideas coalesced into one?
Jett Holden: It’s the first song I finished for the album. I wrote it back when I was 25, and at that point my family and I didn’t really have a personal relationship. It had gotten to the point where I came out 10 years earlier and wasn’t sure where I stood with them. I wasn’t disowned, but I also didn’t have anyone to turn to – they all pretty much told me they didn’t want to hear about it. I didn’t want to keep living in limbo, so a few years later I skipped town and moved to East Tennessee, which is where [Black Opry founder Holly G] found me in 2021.
You also had a brief stint living in California around this time that left you on the brink of quitting music for good. What all transpired out there?
I moved out to Long Beach after dropping out of community college. I was in talks about a development deal and during the “get-to-know-you” phase I let it slip that I was gay and they responded by saying that I wasn’t marketable as a Black, gay man doing the kind of music that I wanted to do. Things fell apart from there, which is why I left California and moved back to Virginia before eventually relocating to Tennessee.
Aside from that moment, were there any other circumstances that contributed to you feeling so defeated about your music prospects?
When I first moved out West, there was a very steep trajectory that isn’t common for most people, but it quickly deteriorated after I mentioned being gay, making for a really high peak and a really low low. When I returned to Virginia things got stagnant and didn’t progress at all, even moving backwards at times. It was a frustrating time of trying to figure myself out that culminated in the move to East Tennessee where I was roommates with a close friend before coming home one day after she committed suicide.
Another of my friends got cancer around the same time and just recently passed too, so those were very traumatic years for me. By 2020, I just couldn’t do it anymore, so I started going to therapy right before the pandemic hit and the world shut down. Suddenly [music] was just too much to deal with, so I stopped making it. Being online was toxic so I shut down, got a stay-at-home job with AT&T, and accepted that as my future, working my way up in the company.
Then Holly — and the Black Opry — came around?
Exactly. I’d already called it quits when she found me on Instagram through a video I’d posted of my song “Taxidermy.” I only had that and a couple other covers posted, but it was enough for her to take interest and slowly pull me back into the industry. A couple months later she launched the Black Opry as a blog and it’s crazy to see where things have gone since then.
Within a year I’d gotten to tour all over the country, appear on The Kelly Clarkson Show, and I recorded my first single and EP through a grant I received from [Rissi Palmer’s] Color Me Country. Holly has made so many things possible that had been unavailable to me for my entire career until then, fighting for me in ways nobody else had before. She took chances because she wasn’t an industry person, but rather a flight attendant who was just a fan of country music and wanted to feel connected to it and the artists she was listening to, which is something a lot of others were in search of as well.
When I went to the first outlaw house she threw at Americanafest in 2021, I was expecting a bunch of Black country fans to show up, but it was also the queer community, the Latin community, and the women in country music that didn’t feel like they were getting a fair shake of things. Everyone who felt “othered” in country music showed up and it felt like immediate family. Seeing the excitement around that is what drew me back in.
Speaking of your song “Taxidermy,” I remember you being brought to tears while singing it during a Black Opry panel at Americanafest that same year. What’s that song meant to you, both in its message and what it’s meant to your career?
That song relaunched my career essentially, because I wasn’t chasing music when I wrote it. In fact, when I posted it online I only had one verse and the chorus. Despite it not being complete, Holly still sent it off to Rissi Palmer and got me the grant and I finished writing it the day we recorded. It’s a song of frustration that I didn’t expect many people to watch when I posted it, but Holly really connected with it, spread it around, and helped it blow up into something bigger than I ever imagined.
I was just singing about my frustrations with what was going on around our country at the time concerning police brutality, which was a big reason why I quit social media and music altogether in 2020. Instagram was the [only] online account I had when Holly found me. That song allowed me to vent about those things, but it also helped me gain the community I needed to break myself out of the news cycle that we were constantly absorbing, because we had nowhere to go. The song came about out of all that negativity, but had a huge positive impact on me that I never expected.
In addition to the support you’ve received from the Black Opry, you’ve also got a helluva team behind you for this record including the folks at Thirty Tigers, [producer] Will Hoge, and collaborators like John Osborne and Charlie Worsham (“Backwoods Proclamation”), Cassadee Pope (“Karma”), and Emily Scott Robinson (“When I’m Gone”). I imagine that, after everything you’ve been through, having folks like that working alongside you is incredibly validating?
Definitely! Emily was the first person I asked, since she was a very early supporter of the Black Opry. We both connected over “When I’m Gone” and our similar stories [around] suicide, so it was a no-brainer to have her sing with me on it. Holly ended up reaching out to Cassadee after I mentioned wanting someone similar to Hayley Williams featured, and she nailed it. It’s very cool seeing all these people I’ve looked up to legitimately wanting to work with me. I still haven’t met Charlie or John, but it’s wild knowing that they’ve heard my song and wanted to be involved in it.
Regarding “When I’m Gone,” is that a reference to your friend in East Tennessee that you walked in on after committing suicide? If so I’m sorry for your loss, but I love how you used the song to memorialize them and bring attention to the plight of suicide. It’s an awful thing to experience, but putting your feelings from it to song is a great way to bring beauty to an otherwise unimaginable situation.
You’re completely right. When I play songs like “When I’m Gone” or “Scarecrow” live I always have people coming up to talk to me about them afterwards, whether it’s someone who’s come out, dealt with religious trauma, or a person who’s just lost somebody close to them. There’s something very cathartic and heavy all at once that’s led to a lot of crying, but more importantly a lot of growth. It’s been great feeling like I’m not going unheard – which I did for over a decade – and having interest in what I’m doing where there wasn’t any before.
We’ve talked about a lot of the trauma captured in these songs, which brings me to the album’s title, The Phoenix. Is that reference meant to reflect how your life — specifically your musical dreams — have been reborn in recent years?
That was the intention. It was about the resurrection of my career, plus I also referenced the phoenix in “West Virginia Sky,” so it felt appropriate. Then, weirdly enough, just after recording the album I had a friend, also named Holly, give me a phoenix bolo tie for Christmas. It was a very kismet occurrence and a sign that that was the correct title to move forward with on the project. It makes for the perfect project, one where I have creative control and wrote every song (besides co-writing “Backwoods Proclamation”). I put my heart and soul into it, and am really excited for people to hear it.
If you could go back in time to speak with yourself when you were about to call it quits, what would you tell them?
Prioritize the relationships you build, because those are the people that will help you get to where you are supposed to be.
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The headline takeaways from this year’s CMA Awards nominations may be the inclusion (and exclusion) of pop superstars, with understandable interest in what that says about today’s country format. But the 2024 field features plenty of roots and bluegrass influence, too. Regular BGS and Good Country readers might even be surprised at the confluence of the modern mainstream and its traditional tributaries.
We want to highlight that dynamic as well. Country has always been a big tent, but is it now becoming more receptive to its roots?
Let’s start with the superstars. These days, many can claim a rootsy kind of rebelliousness, and chief among those is Chris Stapleton. With his long history – in bluegrass, in Southern rock, in classic country songwriting, and with a train load of CMA trophies – Stapleton vies once again for what would be his first Entertainer of the Year award – after a record-setting eight nominations. Yet he still sings with the fiery Appalachian soul he debuted at the front of The SteelDrivers.
Others earning top billing this year include Zach Bryan and Lainey Wilson – and both have a reputation for gritty, creative realism. Some of the hottest new names country has to offer, Bryan has been selling out stadiums with his confessional alt-country and Wilson’s bluesy Louisiana swagger earned her last year’s Entertainer of the Year title. Those are not the only established artists holding true to the cause, though.
Kacey Musgraves continues to show salt-of-the-earth songcraft is not mutually exclusive to shimmering pop decadence. And while Ashley McBryde has perfected the art of making arenas feel like a massive, county-line roadhouse, Cody Johnson proves the appetite for hardcore Texas twang did not die with King George’s (semi) abdication. All have become perennial fixtures in the format’s upper echelons.
Likewise, this year’s nominees offer excitement for the future, awash with fresh talent. Shaboozey turned heads with the Number One ear worm, “A Bar Song (Tipsy),” but dig beyond the single and his catalog marks an elusive missing link between the hard-times inspirations of both hip-hop and country. Artists like Zach Top – who also came up through bluegrass – accept no substitute for twangy telecasters and shuffling, two-step beats. And while The War and Treaty continue their mission to bring soul and gospel back into the heart of country, The Red Clay Strays find a home for their blend of heady roots rock and commanding, fire-and-brimstone vocals.
Even the behind-the-scenes nominees highlight this rootsy resurgence, with the Musician of the Year category dominated by keepers of the instrumental flame. Fiddle phenom Jenee Fleenor goes head to head with steel-guitar legend Paul Franklin and the multi-talented guitarist/Americana artist Charlie Worsham – while the other two, guitarists Tom Bukovac and Rob McNelley, are certainly no slouches when it comes to six-string scholarship.
In fact, the commonalities between this year’s CMA Awards nominees and the artists covered by BGS and GC are so striking, we wonder what you think. Take a look at the full list of nominees below, and let us know.
THE 58TH ANNUAL CMA AWARDS – FINAL NOMINEES (by ballot category order):
ENTERTAINER OF THE YEAR
Luke Combs Jelly Roll Chris Stapleton Morgan Wallen Lainey Wilson
SINGLE OF THE YEAR Award goes to Artist(s), Producer(s) and Mix Engineer(s)
“A Bar Song (Tipsy)” – Shaboozey Producers: Sean Cook, Nevin Sastry Mix Engineer: Raul Lopez
“Dirt Cheap” – Cody Johnson Producer: Trent Willmon Mix Engineer: Jack Clarke
“I Had Some Help” – Post Malone (Feat. Morgan Wallen) Producers: Louis Bell, Charlie Handsome, Hoskins Mix Engineer: Ryan Gore
“Watermelon Moonshine” – Lainey Wilson Producer: Jay Joyce Mix Engineers: Jason Hall, Jay Joyce
“White Horse” – Chris Stapleton Producers: Dave Cobb, Chris Stapleton, Morgane Stapleton Mix Engineer: Vance Powell
ALBUM OF THE YEAR Award goes to Artist, Producer(s) and Mix Engineer(s)
Deeper Well – Kacey Musgraves Producers: Ian Fitchuk, Kacey Musgraves, Daniel Tashian Mix Engineers: Shawn Everett, Konrad Snyder
Fathers & Sons – Luke Combs Producers: Luke Combs, Chip Matthews, Jonathan Singleton Mix Engineer: Chip Matthews
Higher – Chris Stapleton Producers: Dave Cobb, Chris Stapleton, Morgane Stapleton Mix Engineer: Vance Powell
Leather – Cody Johnson Producer: Trent Willmon Mix Engineer: Jack Clarke
Whitsitt Chapel – Jelly Roll Producers: Andrew Baylis, Brock Berryhill, Zach Crowell, Jesse Frasure, David Garcia, Kevin “Thrasher” Gruft, Austin Nivarel, David Ray Stevens Mix Engineers: Jeff Braun, Jim Cooley
SONG OF THE YEAR Award goes to Songwriter(s)
“Burn It Down” Songwriters: Hillary Lindsey, Parker McCollum, Lori McKenna, Liz Rose
“Dirt Cheap” Songwriter: Josh Phillips
“I Had Some Help” Songwriters: Louis Bell, Ashley Gorley, Charlie Handsome, Hoskins, Austin Post, Ernest Keith Smith, Morgan Wallen, Chandler Paul Walters
“The Painter” Songwriters: Benjy Davis, Kat Higgins, Ryan Larkins
“White Horse” Songwriters: Chris Stapleton, Dan Wilson
FEMALE VOCALIST OF THE YEAR
Kelsea Ballerini Ashley McBryde Megan Moroney Kacey Musgraves Lainey Wilson
MALE VOCALIST OF THE YEAR
Luke Combs Jelly Roll Cody Johnson Chris Stapleton Morgan Wallen
VOCAL GROUP OF THE YEAR
Lady A Little Big Town Old Dominion The Red Clay Strays Zac Brown Band
VOCAL DUO OF THE YEAR
Brooks & Dunn Brothers Osborne Dan + Shay Maddie & Tae The War And Treaty
MUSICAL EVENT OF THE YEAR Award goes to Artists and Producer(s)
Mississippi is well-known for storytellers who craft in multiple mediums. From songwriter-guitar shredder-photographer Marty Stuart, to filmmaker-actor-business owner Morgan Freeman, to author-TV personality-business magnate Oprah Winfrey, the list of multi-hyphenates originating in the state is formidable. Hailing from different parts of the state and from different generations, Charlie Worsham and Mac McAnally are both known as consummate songwriters, instrumentalists, storytellers, singers, producers, and prolific performers.
McAnally frequently jokes that spare time is the chief export of the state of Mississippi, and while hyperbolic, this does underline the fact that it takes time and space to become an expert music creator. Whether Mississippi afforded them both the opportunity to develop their crafts or whether their own obsessions forced them to carve pathways to success for themselves, we’ll never know.
The way the pair speak about playing instruments is reminiscent of the youthful compulsion with which some people describe playing video games or sports. Both Worsham and McAnally started very young. By age 12, Worsham was on the Grand Ole Opry’s hallowed stage. McAnally grew up playing in bars and honky tonks on the Tennessee state line and started playing sessions in Muscle Shoals studios by his early teen years.
In an industry rife with surly personalities, both McAnally and Worsham have reputations of kindness that precede them. It is no coincidence that both of their calendars are fully booked with tours, both solo and in support of other artists and acts, studio work, and various and sundry creative projects.Worsham’s most recent solo release, Compadres, is a who’s who of modern Nashville duet partners; he’s also a current member of Dierks Bentley’s band. McAnally has a fully packed solo tour schedule after losing his long-time collaborator and Coral Reefer Band leader, Jimmy Buffett, just last year and is currently collaborating with Disney on updating the Country Bear Jamboree.
Good Country spoke with Worsham and McAnally from their homes in Nashville. Worsham was making Valentine’s Day memes, preparing for a run of solo shows, and balancing it all with a toddler in the house. McAnally was fresh off a week-long run of shows in Hawaii co-headlining with fellow multi-hyphenate, Jake Shimabukuro, and gearing up for a run of solo shows himself.
The discussion was a mutual admiration society as they are clearly big fans of each other’s work. They talked about their progressions to becoming multi-hyphenates, the benefits of being able to pivot, what their younger selves would think about their careers, and in a Substack-exclusive epilogue, they paid tribute to the fellow multi-hyphenate greats that we lost this past year, Jimmy Buffett and Toby Keith.
As you both became multi-hyphenate creators, were there people in your pasts who either discouraged you from this or encouraged you towards this?
Mac McAnally: Well, I began just by being pretty much fascinated with everything. As far as the multi-instrumentalist part of it, that came from my dad, because he kept the books at an auction and he came home every week with some musical instrument, and it wouldn’t be connected to the last one that he brought. He was just fascinated with music, too, so he would trade up a saxophone one week. He’d have a clarinet the next week, a fiddle the next week. And then drums, which he was kind of glad I didn’t stick with. I was always interested and fascinated by what kind of sounds they made, whether I could help make them or not.
When it became the studio application, I don’t wanna say I was discouraged, but my application in Muscle Shoals was that there wasn’t really a dedicated acoustic guitar player. There was a rhythm section at every studio. Broadway had a rhythm section. Fame had a rhythm section. Muscle Shoals Sound had a rhythm section. Wishbone, where I was working mainly, had a rhythm section. But none of them had a dedicated acoustic player, so it allowed me to go cross-pollinate those different rhythm sections and learn with different producers.
I wouldn’t say I was discouraged, but initially, I was encouraged to be primarily an acoustic player. But I think just because I’m so fascinated with all of it, I was paying attention to all of those jobs; to what the engineers were doing, to what the producers were doing. And then, as I began to have opportunities to do some of those other jobs later on, I certainly believe that having done a few of them gave me more consideration or compassion for everybody that was doing them. I think that it is a good thing to go through life with respect for everybody, and how they’re doing their job. So the more jobs you’ve done, the more you can identify with individual situations of those jobs.
Charlie Worsham: I couldn’t agree more on that last statement. You know, I always have felt that way, and all my favorite people in music are people who have worn different hats over the years, because they have that added perspective and appreciation. And I think it was similar for me, Mac. I was curious. I wasn’t really good at sports, so for me instead of picking up a new sport, it was picking up a new instrument. I was fortunate to have supportive parents who would help me acquire that instrument and acquire a connection to someone who could give me lessons, or a book or video tapes to learn from, or whatever, or just be playing along to records.
That was a big driver for me – and I don’t think anyone ever discouraged me in a similar way. It wasn’t discouragement so much as an encouragement in the other direction, which was because I was a bluegrass kid. There were a handful of people in the bluegrass world who sort of said, “Hey, if you want to be a fiddler, or if you want to be a banjo player, you need to dedicate everything you got to that one instrument,” and I figured out pretty early on I that I was too curious about the full picture, like you said. I wanted to get a little bit of understanding about it all, especially once I got the bug for recording equipment.
I had a chance to come to Nashville when I was 13 and make a bluegrass record. And this guy named Bobby Clark, who played mandolin with Mike Snider at the time, had a 2-inch tape machine in the guest bedroom. I walked in, saw that thing, and I was hooked. It was game over. And so, of course, my new mission became that I had this room full of instruments and I needed a way to record them. That’s what got me into being a songwriter. It all kind of snowballed, because I ran out of fiddle tunes to record. I was like, well, I need to write something now that I’m running out of material to record. By the time I got to Nashville, my motto in those early years was, “Say yes, ‘til you can afford to say no.”
I really wanted to be the big ol’ electric solo rippin’ guitar player. But everybody was an electric guitar player, like you said. A lot of times they needed an acoustic player or the band needed a harmony singer and someone who could play mandolin. So it was a way to always be able to pay the rent. And then, as I got more and more connections, and I guess my stock rose, then I could afford to choose a little bit more what I wanted to do specifically. Looking back, I wouldn’t have wanted to do it any other way, because I love being able to pivot.
I have a question for your 16-year-old selves. What hat do you wear today that you would be most surprised about?
CW: So if 16-year-old us popped into the future and said, “Wow, I didn’t see that coming?” Man! What’s yours, Mac?
MM: I probably didn’t understand what record production was, so it would have seriously surprised my 16-year-old self. A), That there was a job that was really what this is, and B), I wanted to do it. My 16-year-old self just wanted to be a guitar player in a band. At the time I was kind of having to be a piano player in the band, because I knew the notes on the piano and that pretty much disqualified me as a guitar player. Everybody played a little guitar in North Mississippi and almost nobody played the keyboard. If you had a keyboard, you were a keyboard player. I had a Fender Rhodes, which meant I was gonna load it by myself every night and blow my back out by the time I was 20.
I didn’t want to be a singer. I didn’t think I could sing. I wanted to be a guitar player, and I didn’t even want to be the guy playing the solo. I honestly think that’s probably what’s got me so many gigs in bands, because I would always just sit and play rhythm for two hours while somebody jammed over “Down By the River.” I was just trying to make it groove.
My adult self is fueled a little bit by my ignorant teenage self, and like you, I wasn’t necessarily inclined to sports, but I was a big enough guy that they expected me to play football in Belmont, Mississippi. I was blessed by the fact that Belmont, Mississippi did not own a helmet that would go on my head – even in junior high school. My head is huge, and the high school coach took me into the equipment room and said, “Son, see if you get any of these high school helmets on that head of yours. You’re a big boy, and we’d love to have you out on that field.” And I sat and mashed as hard as I could. It looked like Mr. Peanut. I went trotting out on the field, and the coach said, “No, that ain’t on, son.” The face mask was still over my hairline, you know, so I didn’t get to play football.
But a record producer, somebody that is in the service of the music and in the service of helping somebody’s dream come true, I didn’t understand what that job was. I don’t view myself as particularly good at it, but I relish the fact that I get to do that on occasion. I just sort of think of myself as a steward of music. It doesn’t matter which of these hats, which of these hyphens is today’s job. I just like to wake up and go back to bed, having been in the service of music, and I don’t really care what way it is.
CW: It’s interesting, because I think I’m closer in my mindset today, for the first time, to my 16-year-old self than I’ve been since then. In that, like you, I just wanted to be where the music was. I wanted to be involved. By my early twenties, there was a part of me that if I brought my 22-year-old self to the present he’d be going, “Where’s the building you own on Music Row? And where’s your wall full of plaques and all your 10 number ones?” I was pretty fired up by then to go out and change the world and be a star. But at 16, I just wanted to be around the music. I wanted to get to Nashville and be in those rooms. I think that the part of me that’s fueled by gratitude and excitement, that 16-year-old self, would be blown away by how much music I get to make and the people who I get to make it with. And the fact that the liner notes legends that I revered and learned from know me and that people like Vince Gill, who were my ultimate North Star and still are, that they would know me, and even respect what I do, and want me to be around to help.
That early 20s self, who just thought I had to have the number ones and thought I had to have it a certain way, has given way to realizing that it’s unfolded in a much cooler way. Had I had that one hyphen, the guy in the spotlight, and if everything had gone the way I thought I wanted it to go, I would not have gotten the chance to do all these other things. Being a big star means that’s really all you have time to do. I’ve had the chance to be on the tour bus with Vince, with Old Crow Medicine Show, or right now with the Dierks Bentley gig. And I’m still hungry for certain things in the spotlight part of the hyphen, but it’s way cooler now – and I have so much more perspective and gratitude. It comes down to getting to be around the music and getting to witness that miracle of an idea coming to fruition. We’re sort of midwives for creativity.
MM: That’s well said, and I almost bet as many of these multi-hyphenates as you talk to, they are gonna have that in common. I didn’t even desire to get a record deal, but I got a record deal when I was 19 and I had a record on the charts when I was 19. I was just really on a dare out there. I was like, “They’re gonna send me back home within 6 months.” I didn’t have any ambition to be in the middle of the stage at all. And still don’t. It’s Old Testament miracles, daisy-chained together, that I ever got a record deal, because I never even played my songs to my parents. I was so bashful.
But had the record deal been a big blow-up kind of deal, as you said, Charlie, it takes up all your time, and it also can shorten your career.
CW: So true.
MM: You can only take the hard spotlight for a few years and then people kinda want you out of their living room.
Charlie, you’re actually a few decades closer to your 16-year-old self than I am. I still have the mindset of that, and I’m grateful every day, really, that I didn’t blow up when I was 19, because I didn’t have a clue how to handle that. It allowed me to watch a bunch more people, how they do it, how they make records to get to play along with a bunch of people, and, as you said so well, I got to play with heroes of mine that I would never dream to be even shaking hands with. All of that is partly a result of not being a big deal when I was 19.
CW: We do it backward, right? Because I think when people hit about 40, that’s when they’re actually finally prepared to be a big star and they’re at their peak. That’s one of the best pieces of wisdom I’ve been fortunate to glean from Vince in particular, as the great mentor that he is. He’s making the best records he’s ever made now, and that’s my own hope, too, that every 10 years I can be proud of the music I’m making today, and I can look back at the music I made 10 years ago. I’ll still be proud, but also part of me cringes a little bit, because that means I’m growing. That’s the dream really.
MM: I couldn’t say it better.
Can you both talk about what being from Mississippi means to you as music makers and in terms of how you developed as music creators?
CW: The older I get, the more I recognize that you can tell the whole story of America, and particularly American music, through the lens of Mississippi. All the really inspiring parts and all the really scary parts and tragic parts of it, too. It’s all wrapped up there, and somehow, it just seems like the folks who came out of Mississippi with music in their heart did just a bang-up job of documenting all of that.
I think back to when I first acquired an electric guitar. It took me a while. I had the banjo, I had the mandolin, and I was playing all the acoustic and bluegrass instruments. But I still wanted to be Vince Gill or Marty Stuart. And I finally got that electric, and it was B.B. King records that I used to learn first. The reason was I thought, “Oh, he didn’t play that many notes. I’ll figure all this out in no time. One weekend and I’ll be playing like B.B. King.” I very quickly learned, no. He might only be playing one note, but the way that he bends a note is like watching Mozart compose.
Growing up [in Mississippi], there was that factor of seeing Marty Stuart on TV, knowing he grew up where I grew up. Same with B.B. King and Pops Staples. And same with you, Mac. I’ve always looked up to you, as well. If there’s anything I know about Mississippi, I know the only thing bigger than our mosquitoes are our stories. We really know how to tell a story.
MM: It is the truth. I got to run around with Jimmy Buffett for years, he was a Mississippi guy who had done well and I respected him. And the same with all of the blues guys. I wasn’t so much a student of blues, but I knew that the blues essentially came out of our delta. I appreciate and honor the fact that it came out of our soil there.
Our home state is fiftieth in most things. We’re the poorest and the least educated, and the most overweight. We get the number 50 a lot. But I also think that the spirit of community– when everyone’s kind of close to one another because nobody’s that far apart. The poor and middle class are almost everybody. So you kinda know your situation and how everything you do affects everybody you know. It gives you a big picture from a small town. That is a big picture that applies to the whole world. There’s a ripple of good or bad, according to whether you’re doing good or bad, it goes out through your community. That, I think, informs our storytelling nature.
If you had to boil it down today and you could only pick one thing that you do, what would you choose?
CW: Today? There’s a part of me that wants to say, “Play mandolin,” as crazy as that sounds. It’s probably number six on the list of things I do. I learned over the years that being on tour and playing that two hours of music every night doesn’t necessarily mean that you keep your chops, because you’re playing the same two hours of material. And so over the last few years, I’ve sort of set a mission ahead of every tour: I want to pick a music nerd project – and last year it was mandolin. So I try to put in a couple of hours every day out on the road, learning solos I always wanted to learn, or just playing along, or jamming with the other guys in the band.
Since I’m sort of in the middle of a mandolin renaissance, there’s a part of me that would be relieved to just go, “Oh, that’s all I’m gonna do is just go get really good at mandolin right now.” Just because it’s what’s fueling my curiosity and my creativity. I also think it’d be impossible for me to not pick songwriting, especially off the heels of us talking about being from Mississippi and the fact that we’re kind of born into telling stories growing up there.
I process so much of my life and my feelings through writing songs. If I don’t get it out, it builds up and it comes out all sideways. One of my life’s mantras is “I ain’t right if I can’t write.”
But most days, to make a long story short, I just want to play guitar. You give me a guitar and I just want to play, and that’s fine by me.
MM: You could just superimpose my voice on what Charlie said pretty much. I love everything that I do. But I just came home from working every day for a long time and literally, before I took my shoes off, I was playing a guitar. Like you said, Charlie, on tour you play what you already know how to play. You don’t really challenge yourself, because you’re spending two hours just trying to make that show be as good as you can.
But I know that I still want to get better. At a certain age, you also want to maintain. I’ve got arthritis in my hands. I remember my grandmother, who was a musician as well, she crocheted all the time, and she crocheted things that we didn’t need, because she was afraid to stop. She was afraid her hands would lock up if she stopped, so we got sweaters and doilies and blankets and bedspreads. She was really just trying to keep her hands active. There’s an element of that in what I’m doing, too. But it also lights me up. I can’t imagine being separated from a guitar for any long period of time. That’s sort of terrifying.
CW: I brought a guitar on my honeymoon. That tells you how bad it is.
MM: Yeah, I was just all week last week with my buddy Jake Shimabukuro, and he’s blessed by the fact that his passion is the ukulele. He literally doesn’t go to dinner without it. Anytime we get in the van to ride from the airport to the hotel, I make a personal bet with myself whether we get to the first speed bump on the way out of the airport before he’s playing. He’s still just as fired up about it as ever, and that’s inspiring to a 66-year-old. And I hope there’s some 78-year-old that’s looking at me going, “Look at that idiot! He’s playing guitar before he sets his suitcase down!”
Even though you’re in different generations, the modern-day music business is so different from when either of you guys were coming up. And there’s a lot of extra hats that you guys are having to wear. Given that it is a different landscape, do you have advice for people coming up who aspire to do what you two do?
CW: Most of it is stuff I’m passing on secondhand. I’d love to start by saying I believe we are in the best time in my lifetime to go into this world of music with this multi-hyphenate mindset. My dad was a banker and my mom was a teacher, both professions that they held for decades. I grew up with this message from the world that this is kind of how it works, right? You get a job, and you keep that one job, and that’s what your job is. That has kind of gone away. I’m actually particularly grateful now that I never had a plan to stay on one track. Generally music, yes. But I was always prepared to pivot. Looking at where we are now, I think that the ability to pivot is going to be the most important skill someone could have, especially in music going into the future.
I could give you tons of great advice from other people like, never be the best musician in your band, because then you don’t have anything to learn. You’re gonna learn more if you’re the weak link in that band.
But in terms of personal advice that I can give, I think it’s figure out how to have a sustainable and not-so-toxic relationship with your public-facing platform, most of the time that’s going to be through whatever social media is happening. And you can count on that changing. It’s TikTok today. It’ll be something else in a couple of years. But I have found success in finding something that I know I can commit to, that I know I can be consistent with, and that isn’t going to just drain my soul.
You know, the definition of integrity I keep is that the insides match the outside. If it’s guitar nerd stuff, I know there are other guitar nerds out there, and I know that’s something I can always put 10 minutes of my time into. I do believe that our presence online, in so many ways, is becoming the currency of the future. I mean, even for songwriters, even for session players. You know, if someone heard your name twenty years ago, they’d pick up the phone and call a musician they trust and say, “Hey, have you heard about this kid? What are they like? Have you worked with them?” And basically, that was your best shot at getting called by that person. But now they’re more likely to just search you online and look at your YouTube or your Instagram. Iif you’re there and you have a consistent presentation of who you are, they can get to know you really quickly. You also have to keep in mind that it isn’t everything. There are seasons in life where it’s okay to let that go and shut it down and focus on something else. But it is something you kind of have to at least keep on the back burner.
Ultimately, if it ain’t who you really are, it’s just not gonna work long term. And if there’s anything I’ve learned, it’s that if you can’t pull it off long term, it’s not worth doing. Like Mac said earlier in this conversation, being a big star isn’t made for thirty years. You’re not meant to stand in that bright of a light for a long time. The real trick is being able to run the full marathon. With social media, you have to really be careful not to lose your spirit in it.
MM: I have missed my opportunity to take some of your good advice, because social media came too late into my life. I’m probably not ever gonna be anybody that posts a lot, but I will say just in general, whatever the new thing is tomorrow, that was the old thing yesterday.
What I would say to folks starting out is to widen the lens, to dream wider. When you are a teenager, when you’re full of hormones, you tend to dream narrow. There’s so many rewarding aspects of what’s available to us that you don’t know about in your teen years and if you narrow your dreams down to where all bands suck except the one you like, you eliminate not only a lot of career opportunities, but you eliminate a whole bunch of joy that’s just sitting there waiting in the music.
There are just all sorts of payoffs to leaving everything as a possibility. And then, besides that, I would just say, in the context of all success, in all the ways that we measure it and quantify it, if you can just remember that the music is the reward. It is the primary reward. Everything else, as wonderful as everything else is, is secondary to the music itself. Nothing will ever compete with that to me. The things that I’ve gotten to be part of, or play on, or make a little bit better just because I was there, that is the most career reward that I’ll ever have, regardless of how much revenue I ever generate or how many people mistake me for the musician of the year, or whatever songwriting accolades that we get. All of those are great, but they’re secondary to the work. The work is the reward.
CW: That is incredibly profound and true. I relate to that every day these days. It calls to mind for me, too, that when we talk about awards, number ones, or getting big checks in the mail, you don’t often in those kinds of conversations hear people talk about respect. I’ve found that the work is the reward. But to feel the respect of people that you admire and look up to, respect is about as sweet a feeling as anything you could get.
MM: It is awesome
CW: And it’s also kind of a hedge against hard seasons. If you operate with empathy and respect for others, one of the best ways to get respect is to respect other people in the first place.
MM: Absolutely
CW: It is a bit of insurance, I think, against hard times, because it means in your lowest point you got people you can call who are gonna shoot you straight, who are gonna help in any way they can. There are people with big mansions and number ones, and all the things who don’t necessarily have respect, and if I had to pick one or the other, I’d rather have the respect and not have all the rest than have all the rest, and not have respect.
MM: No, that’s correct. And there is no hard turn or dark corner that music can’t get you out of. Not necessarily financial and success-wise, but whatever headspace you’re in, music can turn bad into good. There aren’t many things that do that and we’re connected to one of those. The worst thing that ever happens to you can become a song that makes somebody else’s life better who is going through a similar thing. And they couldn’t articulate it. They couldn’t speak it. But we can help with that and help ourselves at the same time.
It’s been a busy summer for Dierks Bentley and Molly Tuttle, as the former crisscrosses the country on his Gravel & Gold tour and the latter has released her critically-acclaimed album, City of Gold, with her band Golden Highway. With Bentley’s well-known love of bluegrass – he’s been a regular at the World Famous Station Inn in Nashville for decades and his 2010 bluegrass album, Up on the Ridge, featured many of our favorite grassers – and the golden similarities between Tuttle’s and Bentley’s brands at the moment, this match-up feels more than apropos.
“We were so lucky to have Molly and her awesome band be part of several shows on our summer tour,” Bentley says. “We had shared the stage before at the Station Inn, so taking the show on the road seemed like the next logical step! Not only do they put on a killer show, but they are super fun to hang with off stage as well.”
Dierks Bentley, Molly Tuttle, Charlie Worsham, and more rehearse back stage at the Station Inn.
The love, appreciation, and admiration Bentley and his band have for bluegrass is nearly unmatched in country and it’s obvious that admiration – for Tuttle & Golden Highway, too – is mutual. “We introduced [Golden Highway] to pickleball and cold plunges,” Bentley continues, “and of course to our fans every night, some of who had never listened to bluegrass music. For Molly Tuttle to be those fans’ first experience with bluegrass was really an honor for me. We made some new bluegrass fans for life!”
For their part, Tuttle and band have spent the last couple of years on the road building a show that feels equally at home at bluegrass festivals, rock clubs, mid-sized theaters, and even full-scale, multi-artist arena shows – like the Gravel & Gold tour. The energy they bring with them every time they step on stage feels right at home in a lineup with Bentley et. al. The enjoyment shared by all is palpable in these exclusive photographs by Zach Belcher.
“I loved going out on the road with Dierks Bentley this summer,” Tuttle says. “His kind and welcoming personality shines through in his show and everything he does. I’m a big fan of his music and especially love his bluegrass material so it was a thrill to jump up on stage with him and his killer band each night for an acoustic portion of the set! Watching him play was like seeing a masterclass in putting on a great show that the audience will take with them forever and I’m so grateful for the ways Dierks spotlighted us and bluegrass music as a whole to his crowds.”
Enjoy this collection of photographs from Bentley’s and Tuttle’s appearances together, and don’t miss their Gravel & Gold and Road to El Dorado tours as they continue through the end of summer and into the fall.
More Station Inn green room rehearsing with Molly Tuttle, Charlie Worsham, Dierks Bentley, Ben Helson and Cassady Feasby.Molly Tuttle & Golden Highway join Dierks Bentley and band on stage.Dierks Bentley and very special guest, his eldest daughter, Evie.Molly Tuttle joins Dierks Bentley on stage in Cleveland, Ohio.(Front row) Ben Helson, Molly Tuttle, and Dierks Bentley in Cleveland, Ohio.Dierks BentleyDierks BentleyMolly Tuttle & Golden Highway with Dierks Bentley on stage near gold country in Corning, California.Dierks Bentley in Corning, California.
Artist:Charlie Worsham Hometown: Grenada, Mississippi Song: “Half Drunk” Album:Sugarcane EP Release Date: July 16, 2021 Label: Warner Music Nashville
In Their Words: “‘Half Drunk’ tells the story of the first time I told my wife I loved her. I’d just been fired by my publisher and my manager had quit management that week, but I was singing that day in one of my favorite rooms in all the world, the Station Inn. Powered by Yazoo Pale Ale, applause, and a sense that this girl I was crazy about might just be more special and more permanent than the whole music industry thing, I turned to Kristen, said those three magic words, and she said ‘I love you too.’ I hope this song inspires a lot of drunken making out and maybe a few last-time-saying-I-love-you-for-the-first-time moments.” — Charlie Worsham
It’s a national holiday. Patron saint, Willie Nelson. And perhaps his heir would be Kacey Musgraves? Or Billy Strings. Or Margo Price. Or Snoop Dogg. We’ve got options.
Bluegrass and country may be upheld as the pinnacles of wholesome, “American values” music, but in reality artists have been putting the GRASS into bluegrass since as long as that term has been in popular usage. (And damn, does it look good on a sweatshirt, too.)
We hope you ascend to new heights this 4/20, and while we’re at it we hope you enjoy these 16 high lonesome roots songs perfect for the occasion.
Roland White – “Why You Been Gone So Long”
Roland White, his late brother Clarence, and the Kentucky Colonels are known for “Why You Been Gone So Long,” and in 2018 Roland re-recorded the number on his IBMA Award-nominated album, A Tribute to the Kentucky Colonels, with a star-studded cast of friends.
Also known for his monthly shows at the World Famous Station Inn in Nashville (pre-COVID), every time Roland sings the line, “Nothing left to do, lord, so I guess I’ll go get stoned,” the crowd erupts with laughter. To this writer, though, that line feels less like a hilarious non-sequitur from a septuagenarian bluegrasser and more like sage wisdom. I guess I will go get stoned!
Selwyn Birchwood – “I Got Drunk, Laid & Stoned”
As modern bluesman Selwyn Birchwood put it in our premiere of this track, “This song proves that you can party to blues music.” That may seem like an obvious fact to a blues fan, but the uninitiated deserve to know the blues isn’t just about what you’ve lost, it’s about what you gain – through the music and otherwise. As Birchwood concludes, “‘I Got Drunk, Laid and Stoned’ is the epitome of what I feel is missing in a lot of blues music right now. You’ll find all of the rawness, edginess, and boundary pushing that I love…” That is the blues.
Ashley Monroe – “Weed Instead of Roses”
No matter the occasion, when you’re reaching for flower… buds – reach for weed. Ashley Monroe makes a compelling case that men are certainly not the only ones in country who can live up to the outlaw moniker. Guthrie Trapp chicken pickin’ along is the cherry on top of this cannabis bop.
John Hartford – “Granny Wontcha Smoke Some Marijuana”
For all those who’ve ever imagined hotboxing a steam-powered aereo plane, here’s a lazy, loping sing-along that kicks into barn-burning — or, grass burning? — country meets honky-tonk meets bluegrass. You’ll be calling it “mary-joo-wanna” now too.
David Grisman & Tommy Emmanuel – “Cinderella’s Fella”
If you’re here, you must be celebrating 4/20, so you might know about Cinderella – a potent, hazy strain that Dawg attributes to his late friend Jerome Schwartz in Petaluma, California. If Cinderella were a princess instead of a strain of cannabis, Grisman would certainly arrive at her door with glass slipper in hand. Instead, we assume he fits her with a glass bowl instead? This performance by Grisman and Tommy Emmanuel is sweet, tender, and jaw-dropping. Classic “Dawg music.”
Courtney Marie Andrews – “Table For One”
Everyone self medicates, whether they’re aware of it or not, it’s just that touring musicians — by the very nature of their jobs — face their self medications, “crutches,” and vices everywhere they go. Courtney Marie Andrews, a lifelong Americana nomad, captures the depression and melancholy of touring perfectly in this haunting song, which reminds the listener that you don’t really want the life of the person on stage, no matter how glamorous it might seem. If the sometimes foggy dissociation of weed smoking were bottled and infused into a song, it would be this track.
New Lost City Ramblers – “Wildwood Weed”
Have you ever asked yourself the question, “What if Mother Maybelle smoked pot?” With this song — a Jim Stafford hit — The New Lost City Ramblers kinda did!
New life side quest unlocked: smoke weed from a corncob pipe.
Kacey Musgraves – “Follow Your Arrow”
It’s April 20th and your arrow is pointing directly at your bong. F*CK, water pipe. Follow that arrow, babies! Do you! Light up a joint. (Or don’t.)
Nah, do.
Charlie Worsham feat. Old Crow Medicine Show – “I Hope I’m Stoned (When Jesus Takes Me Home)”
We’ve loved Charlie Worsham and the bluegrass bona fides underpinning his brand of modern country for quite a while, but it’s extra perfect when he sits in and otherwise collaborates with the fellas in Old Crow Medicine Show. Heaven’s golden streets? Overrated. What about its fields of pot?! I mean… it will have amber waves of cannabis, will it not? It’s called “heaven.”
Margo Price – “WAP”
She’s partnered with Willie’s Reserve to release her own branded strain of weed, “All American Made,” and she’s infamous for smokin’ and tokin’. But in this Daily Show withTrevor Noah spot featuring comedian Dulce Sloan, Price is called upon to prove the point that if “WAP” were a country song, the universe would still be as upset at its radical centering of female pleasure and agency. (She’s right, of course.) Thank GOD for Sloan and Noah making this point, because it’s given us this country-rendition of Price singin’ “Need a hard hitter, a deep stroker/ a Henny drinker, need a weed smoker.” Perfection.
Chris Stapleton – “Might As Well Get Stoned”
Look, you can’t mess with the hits. This list wouldn’t/shouldn’t exist without this song on it. Chris Stapleton, perhaps the biggest crossover artist — crossing over from bluegrass to mainstream, of course — in roots music since Alison Krauss proves his allegiance to whiskey and weed in this jam from his smash major label debut, Traveller.
It’s like he took Roland’s advice! Might as well…
Peter Rowan – “Panama Red”
Peter Rowan’s career has been well-peppered with southwestern and Latin folk-flavored bluegrass, but did you know he wrote “Panama Red”? This live recording is suitably trippy for 4/20, with a slight atonal warble as if the record were slightly warped on the turntable and the pickers holding on for dear life to Peter’s delightfully languid phrasing — that somehow drives as much as it lays down for a weed-induced siesta. Everybody’s acting lazy…
Billy Strings – “Dust In A Baggie”
He means kief, right? Right??
Guy Clark – “Worry B Gone”
How every “worried man” in Americana, country, and the blues still has a job when “worry B gone” exists is perplexing, isn’t it? Granted he was not a medical professional, but Guy Clark’s endorsement surely must stand for something. Don’t give me no guff, give me a puff!
Willie Nelson – “Roll Me Up and Smoke Me When I Die”
Did you know that funerary and embalming processes are actually incredibly harmful to the environment and often non-sustainable? But this style of cremation must be ideal. Do it for the earth. Think green. HaHA!
John Prine – “Illegal Smile”
Love that plant peeking from behind John Prine like a shoulder angel. Let’s all do Prine proud and don illegal smiles today, how about it?
With that in mind, let’s not celebrate today without also striving towards decriminalization, decarceration, and the expungement of criminal records for anyone currently imprisoned on marijuana charges. Illegal smiles no more!
Pictured: Limited edition BGS herb grinder. Want one? Let us know in the comments and we might add them to the BGS Mercantile!
Remember when we used to actually try to get our readers to go out and support live music? LOL. It’s not “Get Off Your Ass,” anymore, it’s, “Y’all stay put if you know what’s good for you!” At least, for the time being.
Each week, we round up a few of our favorite tunes, events, livestreams, and content from the BGS archives that will hopefully help make your isolation pass faster and with a little bit more joy.
Did we miss something? (We probably did.) Let us know in the comments or on social media!
The Whiskey Sour Happy Hour
Did you hear!? We’ve teamed up with our pal Ed Helms, the Americana Music Association, TX Whiskey, Allbirds, and a pantheon of incredible musicians, friends, and buddies for four weeks of online variety shows! Proceeds from the Whiskey Sour Happy Hour will benefit MusiCares’ COVID-19 relief fund and PPE supplies through Direct Relief. Lee Ann Womack, Billy Strings, Madison Cunningham, Aubrie Sellers, and some surprise guests, too. Our debut show goes up at 5pm PDT / 8pm EDT on April 22 right here on BGS, on our Facebook page, and our YouTube channel. We hope you’ll join us and donate! More information here.
The Lumineers, Together at Home
Wesley Schultz represented The Lumineers at the end of March on #TogetherAtHome, a livestream campaign that has seen performances from so many artists, including Coldplay, Jack Johnson, and Hozier. Originally performed for fans on Instagram Live, Schultz sang a selection of songs from the Lumineers discography, adding covers of Springsteen and the Felice Brothers. This showing is part of the #TogetherAtHome daily concert series, but the campaign is building up to its fruition on April 18th. Global Citizen has organized an international broadcast and digital special with the express intent of supporting healthcare workers and the World Health Organization. The centerpiece event will be called One World: Together At Home and will be hosted by television’s best, Jimmy Kimmel, Jimmy Fallon, and Stephen Colbert. For more info on the broadcast event, visit globalcitizen.org, and until then, enjoy this installment of the daily concert series given by The Lumineers.
Martin Guitar Presents Jam in Place
Everybody loves playing Martin Guitars, so of course nearly everybody who’s ever picked one up is playing Martin’s livestream series, Jam in Place. In the past couple of weeks they’ve featured performances from Kelsey Waldon, Charlie Worsham, John Oates, Tenille Townes, and many more. On the docket for the rest of this week: Son Little and Amythyst Kiah. Martin’s website explains that the series’ lineup is full for the “foreseeable future,” so stay tuned for many more jams!
A while back we had a mouth-watering series of Bluegrass Cocktails, fancy libations for at-home mixology that referenced and drew inspiration from classic bluegrass songs. We scoured the archives for as simple and quarantine-friendly a recipe as possible to give you: the Molly & Tenbrooks. Whiskey (it calls for Irish, but we trust your judgement and your liquor reserves), honey simple, lime, bitters, and mint — done. Cherry for garnish, if you have one, you fancy lil bartender you. We highly recommend this horse race-in-a-glass. Perfect to pair with your Stay On Your Ass activity of choice. Get the full recipe.
Justin Hiltner and Jonny Therrien contributed to this article.
I can still remember the first time I saw Old Crow Medicine Show live. It was a sweltering summer night in Nashville around 2008 (back before the bachelorettes and Bird scooters) and they played from a massive barge moored at Riverfront Park. The thing was huge — far too big for six skinny street musicians to budge — but I swear it moved while they stomped and hollered, the Cumberland rolling by lazily behind them.
I was familiar with the band and already loved the unapologetic mix of tradition and edgy intensity, but that live show was revelatory. It gave me a new appreciation for the sense of community Old Crow was trying to forge, so it’s always surprised me that they didn’t record live albums. That has finally changed with this month’s release of Live at the Ryman.
Backstage at the Grand Ole Opry House on another hot summer night, front man Ketch Secor spoke with BGS about the project, why Old Crow is just now getting around to a live album, and what their style of music needs most right now.
BGS: Part of the idea of this album is that Old Crow has played the Ryman over 40 times. For a band that started out busking in the Northeast, how does it feel wrap your head around that?
Ketch Secor: Actually, I wish I had a real count because Lord knows I’ve played there more than 40 times. I think that’s how many times we’ve headlined, but if you add them all up I bet it’s a triple-digit number. We’ve been openers there for Dolly Parton back in 2002 for, like, a daytime show. We’ve done a lot of film and television there, all kinds of awards shows. It always felt like the place to shoot for — it’s the moon, the Ryman Auditorium, and we were always a shoot-for-the-moon kind of band because we figured “Well, we’re not supposed to be here anyway, so we might as well try and go as far with it as we can.”
You self-released one live album in 2001, and then nothing else until now. Why did it take 18 years to do another, since the live show has always been the foundation of what you guys do?
Oh, I think because we’ve always tried to put out a new studio record every couple of years, and here at the 21-year mark it’s probably time to start doing exactly what we feel like doing.
You haven’t been doing that the whole time?
Nah, not with those studio records. There’s a lot of stuff you’ve gotta do. Yeah, we always did it “our way” in the fact that we always played our own music. But just being in the music business means doing it everybody else’s way.
So you had to make a few compromises here and there?
Oh yeah, there was a lot of playing the game in ways that never seemed to pan out, but it never stopped us. That was just the way it was, and we were impressionable, so that’s what we did. We did it the way we were advised to do it.
Can you elaborate a little?
Like playing Napster. Doing shows for radio programmers in L.A. who never played us. Trying to make videos for CMT that were never in rotation, ever. …Opening up for Carrie Underwood at [Country Radio Seminar], it’s like, “What were we doing there?” Those guys, they might have liked it, but they were never gonna play it. And I don’t care if they like it, I want them to fucking play it, or I don’t want to play that show.
So now that you feel freed up to do it your way, what’s that look like?
Live at the Ryman. Here we are singing a Merle Travis song! Here we are singing our songs or selling popcorn and tickets and people brought their buck-dance shoes! I mean, we’ve set beer records at the Ryman. I’d rather sell beer at the Ryman than sell records! …I’d rather sell beer at the Ryman than digital streams! What’s the fun in that?
“Tell it to Me,” “Methamphetamine,” those are interesting songs to present because rural America has a new drug problem going on with opioids. Why is it important for you guys to sing songs like that, especially at the Ryman?
Well, “Tell It to Me” was recorded in Johnson City in 1928 I think. The band that brought that song to the studio had been an original backing band for Jimmie Rodgers… Anyway, I’m just saying this because if you like country music, you should probably know that drug songs have been part of the canon since recording studios first illuminated a red light bulb and said, “You’re on.”
I don’t think people do know that. We’re just now starting to get radio songs with pot references that people don’t flip out over.
Yeah, I mean it was blow in the ‘20s and now it’s pot in the 2010s. And then “Meth” is a really different kind of song because it’s more topical. We recorded it a long time ago but it seemed important to bring it back and revamp it, make it more intense, and Charlie Worsham plays some really great electric guitar on it. It just feels like it’s knocking on your door, like a hurricane.
Tell me about doing “Louisiana Woman, Mississippi Man” with Margo Price.
We were down in Oxford, Mississippi, doing a show with Margo. She was opening up for us down there near Ole Miss, and we were looking for a song that seemed to fit, so we tried that one. Our duo thing felt really good, and I feel like I’m a little bit in the Conway range — and she’s definitely in the Loretta range — so it worked out pretty good. We heard the playback we thought it sounded great so we wanted to put it out. I saw her at the grocery store the other day and she said she loved it.
Why did you include a song like “C.C. Rider,” which has Lee Oskar playing harmonica?
I really love his band War. We did “Lowrider” onstage at the Ryman, too, maybe that will come out on Volume 2. But what I really loved about that moment on the Ryman recording is that it has twin harps. You know the old guys don’t have their pictures up here [gestures at photos of Opry stars on the dressing room wall]. …But the story of the twin harp playing of the Crook Brothers — Herman and Louis Crook — lives a long time, because Herman and Louis lived, like, into their 90s. What they were great at was two harmonicas playing in unison.
That’s interesting. In your music you’re often looking to the past for inspiration, but what do you think is the future of string bean …. er, string band music, Americana?
You just answered it, man. We need a new Stringbean. Nobody’s acting like that and that’s what’s missing. Who’s gonna be the clown? What happened to the kind of entertainment that’s self-effacing? Everybody on this wall loves the clowns, but none of them are. They’re “the vocalists” and we’re supposed to take them seriously. I’d love to see this genre — whether it’s country or Americana or whatever — just not take itself so damn seriously. Let’s just have a grand ole time. Let’s poke some fun at each other, and especially at ourselves. I’d love to see that.
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