Tag: coronavirus

These Members of the Roots Community Embraced Innovation Amid a Pandemic

Posted on by Editor

The roots music community, like the rest of the world, faced an uncertain future as the pandemic essentially wrecked everybody’s plans in 2020. However, a number of musicians and industry leaders figured out a way to navigate the uncharted waters with grace and bravery. The Bluegrass Situation invited five members of the roots community to share their thoughts on how they harnessed their creativity and embraced innovation over the last 12 months.

Billy Strings, Winner of “Breakthrough Artist of the Pandemic” at the 2021 Pollstar Awards:

It was almost kind of a welcomed break, you know? I was tired, man. We had toured our asses off and I was like, I don’t know if I can do this anymore. Then all of a sudden, this stuff happened and we got a big break. And now I realize how lucky I was. Now there’s nothing I’d like more than to be stuck in some hotel room somewhere after a gig with some random folks at 3 o’clock in the morning, just hanging out and having a good-ass time.

For one thing I wanted to get the quality [of livestreaming] better than what I could do at my house. It started with just me on my couch playing, and the next thing you know we’re doing that tour where we’re playing the Exit/In and gigs around Nashville. It was kind of cool and eerie and weird. I’m just thinking, I know there are people out there watching us, but they’re not here and I can’t see them. When you’re used to playing for crowds, it’s like, man, this sucks! [Laughs]

We did debut a lot of songs at the Capitol Theater when we did our gigs there in February. We played like 16 brand new songs when we were over there. … People will go on fan pages and say, “Holy shit, did you hear that song?!” I don’t want to pay attention too much to that, because it just feels like you’re playing for the internet, but then it is good to get a good little gauge on what songs they’re digging.

Mercy Bell, Singer-Songwriter and Cast Member of the New Documentary, The Sound of Us:

I think a fallow season is really important for everyone, or we’re producing from an empty well. Not of creativity, I think creativity is always there, but contrary to popular opinion of the tortured and manic creator, even artists need to sleep and drink eight glasses of water a day. Like all of us, I spent 2020 trying to survive. I had a nervous breakdown. I lost my job. I had a heartbreak. I turned to art, pop culture, movement, exercise, my cats, meditation, to keep me going. …

There was a period of time I didn’t know if I’d make it. I was in a pretty dark place before I got some new treatment for my mental health. I was obsessively walking 14 miles a day, really scared, really not wanting to be alive, in quarantine far from my family, unemployment wasn’t coming through. Scheduling livestreams gave me something to look forward to. Playing music to my supporters, all over the world, it made me feel less alone. I don’t know how any performance will ever beat that. We really needed each other. Singing to people gave me a reason to keep going in the most literal sense. And my supporters also kept me fed! All those $5 tips kept groceries in my fridge. And then Netflix and podcasts, Cardi B’s “WAP,” and my cat kind of saved me. It gave me something to look forward to. That’s the power of art and pop culture, and pets. It cuts through to places we can’t get to. It got me through each day, one day at a time.

Without giving too much away, The Sound of Us spotlights a variety of musicians and the incredible impact their work (or lack thereof because of COVID) has. Some of those highlighted include folks working to bring music to underprivileged neighborhoods, into prisons and hospitals, working on researching lost works of art from the Holocaust and other genocides, and of course, how musicians were affected by institutional racism and the pandemic. When I saw the screening, I cried all my eye makeup off. It’s an incredibly emotional and profound documentary. I am so proud to have been part of it.

Robert Meitus, Co-Founder and VP of Industry Development of Mandolin.com:

Roots music fans tend to have a strong connection with artists and a desire to connect frequently and deeply. Additionally, the nature of roots music itself is built around intimacy, vulnerability and honesty, so that desire for connection really runs both ways. Mandolin’s vision has always been to build a space in the digital world where the noise of the industry fades away; one where a musician and their fans can connect not only through a concert stream, but through other unique experiences like interactive/online VIP events, soundchecks and workshops with artists.

Specifically, Mandolin started with a name that is itself an acoustic instrument and a workforce full of people who had worked a lot with roots music, including among others: myself, representing as an attorney artists such as John Prine, I’m With Her, and Keb’ Mo’; Jason Wilber, longtime guitarist for John Prine; and Larry Murray, formerly of the Luck Reunion. The name and connections naturally led us to develop the roots music connections in our first year, although Mandolin’s technology and services are certainly applicable to all music genres.

I have been a bit surprised at the almost uniformly positive views about integrating streaming into the live festival experience. It helps that cameras have been in place on and around stages for many years already, largely for the IMAG projections on the sides of stages, so musicians are used to this. COVID introduced livestreaming technology and practices to the music world at a much faster rate than would have been the case otherwise, and we have all learned how technology can connect us around the world and accommodate those that may be challenged to attend an event in person. The result is that, coming out of the pandemic, I believe bluegrass and other festivals will be more interested in the hybrid livestream for all sorts of reasons. This may be a bold claim, but I would expect that almost every festival — roots or otherwise — will have a virtual experience component. Think about it: with a phone in hand, every single fan is a digital fan, whether they are streaming at home or on the festival grounds.

Jackie Venson, R&B/Soul Artist and Guitarist from Austin, Texas:

I was pretty well-versed in livestreaming pre-pandemic. I had a series called Jackie Venson Live on Thursdays, which was an effort to help sell tickets to my album release at the Paramount in Austin, Texas, in 2019. I saw the potential in it when it first came out in 2014. I attempted to livestream a concert from Berlin, Germany, but the technology just wasn’t there yet so it was a really bumpy experience. I remember feeling really grateful that the technology existed when the pandemic was ramping up so that I could keep performing once there was no option for in-person shows. There was literally nothing else to do, and when there’s nothing to do I lose my mind and default to the first thing I can think of, which in this case was filling the performance void with livestream performances.

I used my Austin City Limits TV performance as a platform for Black Lives Matter because that episode will be rerun and it’s important to me that this message doesn’t die. The response overall was positive; of course there were some naysayers but that’s why we need to keep repeating the message. During the pandemic I received overwhelming support and positive feedback from the Austin music community. Everyone was on the same page and it seems as though things are changing for the better. I will absolutely continue to stream from home when possible, and I plan to livestream some of my shows from the road for those who want or need to stay home. I think livestreaming will be a staple in the world of live music. It makes live shows accessible to those who are unable to come out due to economic, accessibility, or other issues. (Read the BGS interview.)

Aengus Finnan, Executive Director of Folk Alliance International:

Everything was upside down last year, but the greatest challenge was envisioning and delivering an event we had never done, with half the staff, all new software, no roadmap, and little sense of whether anyone would want to gather online 11 months into a Zoomed-out pandemic. Being able to offer a sliding scale registration fee, including free, was absolutely necessary given how hard hit our community was, and despite that approach, we exceeded our modest revenue goals to cover the costs of the new online systems we used. The most rewarding element was definitely having new artists and industry join us for the first time, and to see a sharp increase in BIPOC and marginalized community representation across all panels. That happened because we were able to extend invitations to participate in more accessible ways. We were also thrilled to finally provide honorariums to all panelists this year, which we are committed to continuing.

Personally, it’s a joy to see FAI play a part in curating, commissioning, and compensating artists for meaningful new content and partnerships, which is the central aim of our Artist In Residence program — playfully renamed Artists in (Their) Residences this year for the pandemic. There were certainly some artists we approached who simply don’t do co-writes, some for whom the online process felt odd, and others who, while flattered, were simply too busy with other projects or recordings. But for the most part, there was instant interest, especially when they knew that one of their peers had selected or recommended them. The cross-border collaboration as part of a bigger collective project, reflecting on a traumatic year, with the added element of raising awareness for The Village Fund to support the community rang a lot of “count me in” bells.

We are already full steam ahead with a hybrid event this year, and we’re not looking back. Our focus will naturally be on ensuring that the in-person event is top-notch and delivers the experience we all know and love, but there are thousands of people who can’t attend each year, for myriad reasons, and providing online content, as well as live-streamed and interactive content enables more community engagement, participation, and inclusion, and builds bridges and connections that folks will use as an entry point leading to the growth of our genre and industry. While daunting, we’re excited about the opportunity to innovate what we do and offer, and who we can reach.

Photo of Billy Strings by Emma Delevante

With Day Jobs on Hold, These Acoustic Musicians Go Solo (Sort Of)

Posted on by Justin Hiltner

The widespread shuttering of the music industry during coronavirus has given many musicians, bands, and artists the opportunity to inspect and reconfigure their priorities. In the many months since COVID-19 was declared a pandemic, this phenomenon has been well-documented in writing about music — music released as a result of the coronavirus or released in its all-eclipsing shadow, both. Artists have altered so many of the ways they interact with and create music and watching creatives respond to this worldwide cataclysm has been all at once entrancing and existential. 

Especially in instrumental music. Especially in instrumental music made in the off time — away from the “day job,” the main gig, or perhaps, again the off time afforded by COVID. In the gaps, where life allows, acoustic musicians in bluegrass, Americana, and old-time have been exploring the existential questions brought about by the pandemic — and also often by parenthood, by identity, by health and well being, or simply by the pursuit of self — in endlessly fascinating musical endeavors.

Andrew Marlin, co-frontperson of longtime Americana string duo Watchhouse (formerly known as Mandolin Orange) released not one but two albums of such endeavors this year, ostensible results of introspection of his role as a father, fighting-while-resigning-to the day-to-day beauties and fears within fatherhood. There’s a bleak, beautiful nakedness to “The Jaybird,” off Fable & Fire, an age-old sounding fiddle tune with sleek, modern simplicities that seem to indicate the gorgeousness possible from being still, watching, waiting, and listening. 

On Witching Hour, “Too Hot To Move” isn’t a barn burner, it’s a Musgraves-level slow burn; a tepid, mosquito-laden, languid afternoon on a back porch, the air thick with humidity. Again, striking in its display of the delectable everyday, in not just occupying the same place with the same people daily, but inhabiting that place with intention. Marlin’s backing band of Clint Mullican (bass), Josh Oliver (guitar, piano, and more), Jordan Tice (guitar, bouzouki), and Christian Sedelmeyer (fiddle) is largely consistent between the projects as well, reiterating this point.

Sara Watkins, known for many a “main gig” — whether that be Watkins Family Hour, Nickel Creek, or I’m With Her — released another fantastic solo offering, built on many of the same tenets evident in Marlin’s recordings. Under the Pepper Tree, whose title track is the album’s sole instrumental, is a whimsical, winking collection of near-lullabies and other ageless classics rendered as only Watkins could, with pop underpinnings and gloss, but a worn, charming patina of bluegrass and Americana via the American Songbook and its associated canon. 

“Under the Pepper Tree” listens like a fiddled campfire coda to a day on the trail; or, similarly, as if a goodnight to Watkins’ young daughter, after returning from tour. While the album as a whole carries the movement and adventure of the Wild West, as well as theatre and cinema and gaiety, its sense of place — of rootedness — is remarkable, especially in “Under the Pepper Tree,” oozing of lessons learned and intentions made underneath its boughs through pandemic isolation. 

Continuing on fiddle, Mike Barnett’s non-Ricky Skaggs & Kentucky Thunder project released in 2020, +1, feels like somewhat familiar territory, a collection of duets with friends and musical compatriots that stretches out purposefully and athletically from his tours with the Country Music Hall of Famer (who also appears on the album). “Piece O’ Shrimp,” with guest Alex Hargreaves on twin fiddle, is wonky, newgrassy, orchestral, and sly with old-time baked in and a dash of Darol Anger & Mike Marshall’s duet work. 

The poetry in the tune, and the entire project really, came from a health-related pausing of a different kind, though. While the rest of us felt the world halt due to the coronavirus, Barnett’s record release, as well as his performing career, were unexpectedly paused when Barnett suffered a cerebral hemorrhage in July 2020. This collection of songs gains an entirely new meaning, not only in the context of COVID-19, but also as a waypoint on Barnett’s journey through music, his recovery, and his eventual return to playing. Still in in-patient rehabilitation and therapy, Barnett posted an update via GoFundMe (support here) in February 2021 that closed, “…A full recovery is possible and likely!” 

Finally, to conclude our foray into solo instrumental explorations, Sam Armstrong-Zickefoose, multi-instrumentalist and songwriter of Meadow Mountain, considers ideas of place, identity, and belonging on his upcoming crowdfunded release, Spark in Your Smile. Decidedly forsaking tradition-adjacency, perhaps more than might be expected if a listener’s entry point is Meadow Mountain, the album is a testament to Armstrong-Zickefoose’s commitment to community building; he’s utilizing music and creative expression for that purpose. The expansive quality of the project’s lack of genre conjures joy first and foremost, especially on “Mona,” and globe-crossing communities as a near second, each instrument, texture, and tone evidence of what’s possible when roots music allows folks to be and to belong. A priority high on everyone’s list, but especially queer folks in bluegrass, old-time, and Americana like Armstrong-Zickefoose.

As touring bands return to the road, it will continue to be fascinating to watch musicians navigate the reconfiguration of their priorities — and how they will continue to carve out the time to express themselves, instrumentally and otherwise, while life, and the music industry, charges on ahead.

Photo credit: Sara Watkins by Jacob Boll; Andrew Marlin by Lindsey Rome.

2020: The Year of Dolly Parton

Posted on by Editor

Dolly Parton kept her promise to bring good into the world in 2020 and beyond. For so many reasons, this is absolutely the Year of Dolly Parton.

Marking her 50th anniversary as an Opry member in October 2019, she told reporters, “This world is just so dark, ugly and awful. I just can’t believe how we just can’t have a little more light and a little more love. So, I’m going to make it my business to try to do songs that are more uplifting — not just all Christian-based songs but songs that are just about better things. Do better and just have a little more love, a little more light and just don’t be so dark and dirty!”

Gosh, where to begin? How about…

 

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A post shared by Dolly Parton (@dollyparton)

Although it seems like a million years ago now, Dolly launched a viral craze on January 21 with a meme that went around the world. Gotta love the acoustic guitar for Instagram!

Also in January, she notched a Top 10 track on Billboard’s Hot Dance/Electronic Songs chart with “Faith,” which basically transformed the John Hiatt classic into an international EDM hit. Co-starring in the video with her musical collaborators, Galantis, Parton camps things up as the world’s best-dressed bus driver.

Later in the month, Parton collected her ninth career Grammy Award, this time in the category of Best Contemporary Christian Music Performance/Song, sharing the honor with For King and Country with “God Only Knows.” Although Parton wasn’t in attendance, the duo’s Joel Smallbone remarked from the podium, “To dear Dolly Parton, who is an incredible human being. It’s one of the great moments of our career to collaborate with her and her team.”

He continued, “I taught two of her managers in Sunday school growing up, so they were kind enough to reach out and play her the song. But she said something on a call. She said, ‘I love this song because it’s reaching to the marginalized, to the depressed, to the suicidal,’ which is all of us at some point. And then she said this, in her Dolly accent: ‘I’m going to take this song from Dollywood to Bollywood to Hollywood.’ And we did it, Dolly, we took it all the way.”

 

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A post shared by Dolly Parton (@dollyparton)

A few months into the pandemic, Parton told Instagram followers, “I think God is in this, I really do. I think he’s trying to hold us up to the light so we can see ourselves and see each other through the eyes of love. I think that when this passes, we’re all gonna be better people.”

She also revealed on social media that she’d donated a million dollars to Vanderbilt University help find a cure for the coronavirus. She wrote, “My longtime friend Dr. Naji Abumrad, who’s been involved in research at Vanderbilt for many years, informed me that they were making some exciting advancements towards research of the coronavirus for a cure. I am making a donation of $1 million to Vanderbilt towards that research and to encourage people that can afford it to make donations.”

Incredibly, when news of the Moderna vaccine emerged in November, Parton’s contribution was duly noted. “Without a doubt in my mind, her funding made the research toward the vaccine go 10 times faster than it would be without it,” Abumrad told the Washington Post.

In April, she kicked off a series of bedtime stories, told online, in order to bring comfort to children who were scared about sheltering in place. “This is something I have been wanting to do for quite a while, but the timing never felt quite right,” she said. “I think it is pretty clear that now is the time to share a story and to share some love. It is an honor for me to share the incredible talent of these authors and illustrators. They make us smile, they make us laugh and they make us think.” Two of the chosen books she wrote herself: Coat of Many Colors and I Am a Rainbow.

In addition, a new line of uplifting greeting cards inspired by Parton appeared in Walmart stores over the summer. Meanwhile, musically, she responded to the pandemic with a beacon of optimism, titled “When Life Is Good Again.” She shared the song in tandem with an interview (while sitting on her porch in her first-ever Zoom call) with the series Time100 Talks: Finding Hope.

Bluegrass fans rejoiced in August as she made a surprise announcement that six of her albums from the early 2000s were finally available on streaming services, so how about adding title tracks of Little Sparrow and Halos & Horns to your Dolly playlists? Overall, 93 once-missing tracks are now available to stream.

Although she’s rarely controversial, Parton’s commentary about Black Lives Matter caused a commotion among its supporters and detractors — and even inspired a mural in East Nashville. She told Billboard in August, “I think that everybody needs to express themselves however they feel they have to. I’m not out here to tell you what to do. I don’t want you to tell me what to do. But I just do what my heart tells me to do, I ask God to direct me and lead me, and if I’ve got his direction, I don’t have to worry too much about anything else. But I do understand people having to make themselves known and felt and seen. And of course Black lives matter. Do we think our little white asses are the only ones that matter? No! Everybody matters.”

In November, she commemorated the 25th anniversary of the Imagination Library – an incredible program she launched in 1995 in order to provide free books every month to preschool children — with a new documentary titled The Library That Dolly Built. Parton stated, “I am so excited that we can finally tell the whole story of the Imagination Library. It is certainly not just about me. Our story is the story of children, of families and communities who all share the dream to inspire kids to love to read and to love to learn. My hope is this documentary will encourage more towns, more states and even more countries to jump onboard. One thing is for sure, I think this is the best investment I have ever made.”

Those who have been fans of Dolly Parton for their whole lives were treated to two magnificent overviews in 2020. The first is a Time Life box set of her career on camera, available in two different configurations. One option for Dolly: The Ultimate Collection clocks in at 11 DVDs, and the other at 19 DVDs. Some of the most interesting footage comes from her variety shows, such as this clip of the superstar singing “Amazing Grace” with Glen Campbell (who, for some reason, has brought along his bagpipes).

The other retrospective is Songteller, a book of lyrics that doubles as a memoir. Compiled by Parton and noted journalist Robert K. Oermann, it portrays Parton as a composer whose catalog goes way deeper (and darker) than “Jolene,” “9 to 5,” and “I Will Always Love You.” Dorian Lynskey, a contributor to the L.A. Times, wrote, “Her shows are carnivals of good-natured inclusivity that unite everyone from LGBTQ millennials to MAGA-hat boomers under one roof. There is room for heartbreak but not deep cuts about suicide and arson. Still, she would not have included so many of these dramas of cruelty and suffering in Songteller if she did not believe that this harsher strain in her life and work was worth remembering. Her optimism stands on the shoulders of pain.”

And if all that isn’t enough, she gifted us with a holiday album and a network special (both titled A Holly Dolly Christmas), a Netflix movie (Christmas on the Square), and even a baking kit at Williams-Sonoma. It may be the only time in history that she’s been affiliated with the words “cookie cutter.”

Right before Thanksgiving, the iconic musician logged her 50th Grammy nomination, this time for “There Was Jesus,” a collaboration with Zach Williams in the Best Contemporary Christian Music Performance/Song category. A week later, former President Barack Obama lamented that he hadn’t given Parton the Presidential Medal of Freedom. Perhaps that will happen in 2021?

Not that she’s short on awards. She picked up the new Hitmaker award from Billboard in December, and told viewers, “Of course, I’m proud of all the wonderful women in show business that write all these wonderful songs. I’d like to acknowledge a few — some of them older, kind of back in my day. Cindy Walker, who wrote some of the greatest songs ever, and of course Loretta Lynn, a wonderful, wonderful songwriter. And this day in time, of course, Taylor Swift, she’s just right up there, probably number one. And of course, Brandi Carlile, there’s just so many that write so many good songs. I think it’s so important that we acknowledge the women that write and sing in country music. And I think it’s also very important that they take control of their own business. I know I’ve had my own publishing company for years. Same with a lot of these women that I mentioned. But anyhow, I’ve just wanted to always say, ‘You go, girls!’ We can do it!” (Like hundreds of others, the trophy will be housed in her museum in Dollywood.)

This year, and in all years, we commend Dolly Parton for her work ethic and for making herself available to her fans. Yes, she knows how to market herself through visibility and personality, but in 2020, when so many of us have stayed in, she’s gone the extra mile to put herself out there, safely.

On November 30, she wound up in New York Times‘ Style magazine in its “Diva” series, alongside Patti LaBelle and Barbra Streisand. One of the most accurate depictions of what it’s like to be around Dolly (and to always wish you had more time to spend together), the article’s author Emily Lordi quotes Dolly talking about her ambition: “I just wanted to do really good work, and I wanted it to make a really big difference in the world … to uplift mankind and glorify God.”

Photo courtesy of Dolly Parton

Bronwyn Keith-Hynes, “Fiddler’s Pastime”

Posted on by Justin Hiltner

A handful of pages into her book, How To Do Nothing, artist, scientist, and researcher Jenny Odell makes the point that, under capitalism and the Protestant work ethic somewhere along the way modern human understanding of time transformed from being something that “passes” to being something that’s “spent.” Time is money. Where, in the not too distant rearview, time was not always considered a scarce resource or commodity. Instead of passing the time, we now spend it. 

Mid-pandemic, the distinction between these two perspectives feels even more important. To musicians — especially the working, middle-class set whose income hinges almost entirely on performing and creating constantly — the enforced global pausing of COVID-19 has allowed many the ability to refocus their priorities, retooling creativity to be something by which we all pass time, once again, instead of ravenously spending it. 

Any listener familiar with the bowstrokes of fiddler Bronwyn Keith-Hynes (Mile Twelve) will know this particular fiddler’s favorite pastime is… well, fiddle. The most tangible hallmark of her playing style may be her practice regimen, a preponderance of thought and intention evident in every last note. On her debut solo album, Fiddler’s Pastime, and especially its titular number, the oft-trod licks and turns of phrase she pulls on from those hours of study and rehearsal don’t feel canned or stilted, shoehorned into contexts to impress or beguile. They feel like simple outgrowths of Keith-Hynes’ tender-while-precise playing (and practice).

The musical backdrop of “Fiddler’s Pastime,” provided by Harry Clark (mandolin), Jeff Picker (bass), Jake Stargel (guitar), and producer Wes Corbett (banjo), acts as a cozy base layer of security and support for Keith-Hynes’ sometimes languid or teasingly lazy melodic interplay. But the cherry-on-top of this exquisite Bill Monroe via Kenny Baker cover is Laura Orshaw’s immaculate, identical-level twin fiddle. Awarded Fiddle Performer of the Year from the trad-facing Society for the Preservation of Bluegrass Music of America (SPGBMA) in 2019, Orshaw’s fiddling remains dismally underrated on the national and international scenes. She shines here with her longtime friend and collaborator. 

The dots are seamlessly connected; between Keith-Hynes, Orshaw, and this superlative crackerjack band, Fiddler’s Pastime is one album well-suited for inclusion in our quiver of pastimes to take us through this pandemic isolation.

Photo credit: Scott Simontacchi

Courtney Marie Andrews Blossoms Within the Solitude of ‘Old Flowers’

Posted on by Justin Hiltner

As she releases an emotional and illuminating new album, Old Flowers, Courtney Marie Andrews finds herself facing the exact scenario in which she began the creative process: solitude.

Over the course of months writing the material that would become the 10-song LP, the only alone time she enjoyed was while crafting songs, tinkering with melodies, or teasing out narratives from her own subconscious, interrogating herself as a writer, as a narrator, and as a human. But instead of personally carrying her crop of new material out into the world, she’s tasked (like so many of us right now) with sharing these tender buds while she remains in place.

Listening to Old Flowers in this light is like receiving an artful and tenderly dried bouquet. Even as she reflects on the life-changing experiences of the last few years, this album feels made for this moment, bolstered by the sharp, intelligent compassion evidenced on every track and in every lyric. For our Cover Story, we connected with Andrews by phone and began our conversation, as we all do these days, commiserating over shared though separate isolation.

BGS: So much of your songwriting feels like mantra writing to me, particularly some of the choruses on this record. They feel meditative, especially in the ways they repeat and reinforce themselves — whether in the lyrical hooks, or just the themes in the lyrics. Where does that meditative quality come from in your songs?

Courtney Marie Andrews: It’s funny, when I was writing this record I felt like I was in my own personal “quarantine.” It was my first time being alone in over nine years, it was my first time living alone, I moved to Nashville, I was making new friends. I felt, in my own way, that I had found this island. There’s definitely an in-place feeling to the record more than my other records.

It’s really insightful that you said my songs are like mantras, because sometimes, as the narrator [of these songs], I am sort of giving myself therapy. Especially on this record. It does feel like a mantra, particularly on songs like “Carnival Dream,” where I just say over and over again: “Will I ever let love in again? / I may never let love in again.” It’s sort of me accepting that that may be the case.

Another line that may stem from the same idea: “I’m sending you my love and nothing more.” It’s as if you’re reminding yourself of that boundary, rather than the person you’re singing to. Do you agree? That’s the light bulb that went off in my head.

I’ve never thought about it that way, but yeah, it is a boundary. It’s absolutely a boundary. It’s the closing line for the record for a reason. It’s the closing chapter of this saga.

Like you said, writing the record, you were alone for the first time in a long time. I wonder how it feels to reckon with that solitude again with these same songs. Solitude that may feel similar, even if it has a completely different cause.

When I first wrote them, it was like these epiphany moments. More than May Your Kindness Remain I see this record as songs born out of necessity, to get these feelings out. I felt grumpy! The first year was just getting them out, overcoming that first obstacle — especially when you’re in a relationship with someone that long. There’s so much to process you can’t even see what’s in front of you. Now, when I’m listening to the songs in isolation I’m learning more about me as a narrator. More about, “Where do I stand in all of this?” and “Where do I stand now?” 

Last year, the only time I allowed myself to be alone was when I was writing songs. Otherwise I was mostly just trying to distract myself constantly with work, or music, or friends, or drinking. You know, everything you do to distract yourself. This learning about the narrator in these songs — that narrator being myself — has been my current isolation process.

Normally what we’d be talking about right now is how these songs change as they bounce off of audiences, as you’re feeling people besides yourself take ownership of them. Obviously that is still happening, it’s an inherent part of how humans consume music, but the way we relate to that phenomenon is so different now. It’s happening through live streams, through screens, across so much distance. What’s tangible to you about that difference?

As any human probably feels right now, I feel this is very nuanced, has many sides, and I have many days where I feel one way and many days where I feel another. Especially in regards to quarantine and being so uncertain of everything that’s to come. I will say, if I’m being 100 percent frank, so much of knowing people’s true feelings about my songs and how they’re connected to them, for me, is in performing. And talking to someone at the merch table or in the audience. It just feels so much more real. It feels like an AI [artificial intelligence] right now! [Laughs] I know that people are connecting to it, I’ve gotten so many lovely messages about the songs, but it just doesn’t feel as real. 

I will say, in the very beginning, when everybody was live streaming — musicians immediately took to those platforms — I was super inspired by that and by how quickly we can all adapt to “new norms.” I think it’s beautiful that our community feels so passionate about it that we found that outlet. And I’m so grateful that we have that outlet during this, but there’s nothing quite like being in a room with people and singing the songs. As far as my hope about it, I do have hope that this isn’t going to be the remainder of our lives, you know? I really do. If there’s anything I’ve learned by going through really dark, dark depressing moments is that right on the other side is usually the most beautiful moment. It really is. 

How, if at all, has your mission in music changed or adapted in the past few months? Or has it been re-centered? 

I feel like, if anything, it’s made my conviction for what I’ve always intended for my music truer. Since the very beginning I had many opportunities where I could’ve done this for different reasons, but I didn’t do them, because they weren’t what I felt my internal mission was. That internal mission has always been guided by connection — real, human connection. The very first shows I played where I was busking, if we got money that was a bonus. It was shocking, because to me it was more about, did somebody in the audience cry? Did I make somebody feel something? If anything, I’ve always been trying to get back to that. Especially in quarantine and COVID times. With everything that’s going on I feel even stronger about that conviction. And I feel silly for the moments where I’ve been afraid and done otherwise, in small ways. 

I wanted to ask you about “If I Told.” One word can be so pivotal, that “if” changes the entire tenor of the song. And it’s almost a swallowed lyric, too. The song — which is about the telling not the if — is so expressive and does a great job of detailing the phenomenon of having something you simply HAVE to tell someone. it’s just festering, but you still don’t feel that you can. But, literally speaking, there shouldn’t be an “if!” Why is there an if? [Laughs]

When I was writing a lot of these songs, especially the ones where I had left the relationship and started dating again and was meeting people — “How You Get Hurt” and “If I Told” are both rooted in that — I kept saying, “Oh my god these are millennial love songs.” I think the reason that they are is the “if.” I would say this is a big difference between Boomers in the ‘60s and us, culturally. We are all afraid to say it. To just say it. We feel so much, so much, if not more than [these other generations]… but we are all so afraid! Afraid to connect with each other. We’re afraid of rejection. Or afraid of what might reflect in it, because we are so self-aware. Maybe it would hurt us too much? More than anything!

It’s even more fascinating to me now, hearing this answer and knowing “How You Get Hurt” and “If I Told” come from that same period of time, where you’re opening that part of your life back up. That’s the moment when you’re like, “All right. I’m starting out fresh. New foot forward.” You can set the precedent that you’re now, going forward, communicating openly. But, again, you take that first step and right back into the old habit of, “If…” What do you see as a solution for that self-editing? How do we be radically vulnerable and eschew shame? I think our generation needs it so badly right now.

If I’m being completely honest, for me, personally, the problem was the lack of time. The lack of self-reflection. It was being catapulted from this nearly decade-long relationship with this person I essentially grew up with into these new, highly romantic situations. [It was] not having any time for me to rediscover who I was again. I’ve never been more ready to date in my life and to tell someone I love them than when I spent three months at home! [Laughs] With myself! Not drinking, not going out every night–

[Laughs] Every single one of us like, “Aw, shit I wish I didn’t want a boyfriend SO bad right now.”

I know! I know! [Laughs] Honestly, it’s because I’ve finally accepted myself! I think we all have problems, because we’re all so self-aware and have so much shame; there needs to be more conversation around imperfection because we’re all deeply flawed. We’re all human. It’s okay to forgive yourself and it’s okay to be wrong. Accepting those imperfections is something we all need to come to terms with. I think our culture, especially with social media, has a perfection problem. 

Your songs are thoughtful and nuanced and emotional, with this quiet vulnerability, but your voice and the aesthetic of the music are usually so powerful. Especially in the way your vibrato comes through, you feel this sheer force. How did you strike that balance on Old Flowers? Here I don’t think it’s as prevalent as the past couple of albums, but it feels more deliberate and careful. 

Old Flowers, for all intents and purposes, was meant to be an intimate conversation. When I sang it, I wanted it to be that conversation you have where you aren’t blowing up at each other, threatening to jump out of the car. It’s the quiet conversation you have months later, when you’re catching up, and it’s delicate. You feel strange and disconnected, but still so close to this person you know so well. I think, in regards to my voice, on this record I was very intent on making it a quiet conversation, vocally. 

I’ve always been such a big fan of performative singers, singers who perform as the character, as the person they’re singing about. Aretha did it, Joni does it, Billie Holiday did it, Linda Ronstadt does it, all of these great singers. I’ve always really been drawn to that. You don’t sing every word this straight, same way, you put care into every word. You sing with the story in you. If you don’t sing with the story inside you, then how can anyone relate to it?

All photos: Alexa Vicius

WATCH: Molly Tuttle, Old Crow Cover Neil Young’s “Helpless” for WhyHunger

Posted on by Justin Hiltner

Molly Tuttle and Old Crow Medicine Show have combined their voices to bring attention to a terrible byproduct of the COVID-19 pandemic. Together the BGS favorites cover Neil Young’s “Helpless,” spreading awareness and raising funds for WhyHunger, which works to eradicate hunger through community solutions rooted in social, environmental, racial and economic justice.

The accompanying music video for “Helpless” shares eye-opening statistics detailing what the coronavirus has meant to families and individuals facing food insecurity in the U.S. and around the world. WhyHunger aims to establish an understanding of food as a basic human right and to address structural inequities that cause varying degrees of access to food. Tuttle and Old Crow are further supporting WhyHunger by donating all proceeds collected from this track to the organization. 

Watch “Helpless” right here, and consider giving to WhyHunger to support this critical work.

Best of: Live From Here

Posted on by Justin Hiltner

This month brought the unfortunate news that Live From Here, hosted by Chris Thile, has been cancelled.

The American Public Media-produced radio show, previously known as A Prairie Home Companion, has been beloved by listeners since its inception in 1974, and continued in 2016 when the series was rebranded as Live From Here, with Thile leading the way.

The show was cut from production as a result of COVID-19’s widespread impact on the music and entertainment industries. On his socials, Thile graciously acknowledged the decision, stating the purpose of Live From Here as “a celebration of live, collaborative audible art.”

So, without further hesitation, let’s look at 11 of our favorite Live From Here moments.

“Dean Town” – Vulfpeck & Chris Thile

Perhaps one of the most loved Live From Here moments was Thile’s guest performance with Vulfpeck on their classic, “Dean Town.” One has every reason to assume that eye contact between Thile and Joe Dart is still going strong at this very moment.

“Fiddle Sticks” — Billy Contreras

It may be one of the lesser-viewed bits from the show, but this “Fast-AF” fiddle tune feature by Billy Contreras is certainly not short on notes. Two and a half minutes of pure double stops and bass walks.

“Lovesick Blues” — Brandi Carlile, Ben Folds, Chris Thile, & Sarah Jarosz

Ever wondered if Brandi Carlile could yodel on par with Jimmie Rodgers — or everyone’s favorite Walmart yodeling kid, Mason Ramsey? Well, look no further than this early Live From Here collaboration with Carlile, Thile, Ben Folds, and Sarah Jarosz.

“Change” – Mavis Staples

“Say it loud, say it clear!” We’ve shared this powerful performance from the legendary Mavis Staples before, but it is even more relevant now. Things are starting to change around here!

“Toy Heart / Marry Me / Jerusalem” – I’m With Her

Almost 10 minutes of mind blowing harmony and togetherness from I’m With Her, all beloved guests throughout the show’s course. As Thile so happily declares at the end, “There’s not a better band — in the world — than I’m With Her.”

“In Da Club” / Musician Birthdays – Julian Lage, O’Donovan, Thile, and More

What could be better than the composer of 50 Cent’s “In Da Club” jamming with Chris Thile, or Julian Lage playing Django Reinhardt? Oh that’s right: it’s Aoife O’Donovan singing Dolly Parton’s “9 to 5.”

“Blue Skies” – Andrew Bird & Chris Thile

Not only does this pair look quite the same, but their playing together is divine, and one of the last Live From Here moments we were graced with before shutdown.

“Kodachrome” – Paul Simon

This one’ll make you think all the world is a sunny day. Just look at Thile’s face!

“Can’t Find My Way Home (Blind Faith)” – Rachael Price

The tonal map of this moment is pure magic. Lake Street Dive’s Rachael Price supported by Thile’s harmony, Mike Elizondo’s bass lines, Brittany Haas’s fiddle playing — need we say more?

“Winter Boy” – Amanda Brown

Since Thile’s takeover as host, Live From Here has always had a strong female vocalist on stage. From Aoife O’Donovan to Sarah Jarosz to Gaby Moreno to more recent guest Amanda Brown — these women have been an integral part of the show’s cast and performance. Enjoy Brown’s beautiful take on this Buffy Sainte-Marie classic. 

“Hard Times” – Chris Thile

It only seems right to acknowledge the many efforts of the Live From Here cast and crew to bring listeners the show, recast as “Live From Home,” in the wake of the COVID-19 pandemic and global shutdown. For the last three months, those at the show worked tirelessly to bring us the weekly program, with the help of dozens of musicians, show regulars, and the #LiveFromHome social media campaign.

All we have left to say is — thank you to Chris Thile, all of the musicians, crew, and those who made Live From Here possible. And we hope these “Hard Times” we’re all living in together come again no more.

Photo credit: Nate Ryan

LISTEN: Crys Matthews & Heather Mae, “Six Feet Apart”

Posted on by Editor

Artist: Crys Matthews & Heather Mae
Single: “Six Feet Apart”
Latest Project: The Singing OUT Tour, a celebration of LGBTQ+ Pride

In Their Words: “Until our love is accepted as universally as everyone else’s, LGBTQ+ love songs will, by their very existence, be protest songs. ‘Six Feet Apart’ is a snapshot of the current time: love in the time of a pandemic. It’s about actively making the choice to turn away from fear and lean in to one another. For LGBTQ+ people, Pride is a time to celebrate who we are and how we express, identify, and love. It’s a time for us to lean into our community. Right now, we aren’t able to gather in-person but we don’t cancel Pride — we adapt. This would have been our third year of the national Pride tour — Singing OUT — and when social distancing threatened to cancel all our in-person shows, we went virtual. As our song says ‘six feet apart won’t stop us,’ and it won’t stop the Singing OUT Tour either.” — Crys Matthews & Heather Mae

Photo courtesy of the artists.

Bluegrass Pride Invites LGBTQ+ Roots Music Fans to Porch Pride Festival

Posted on by Justin Hiltner

Out of 270 floats, companies, and queer associations, a roots music organization’s marching contingent was crowned “Best of the Best” at San Francisco’s world-famous Pride parade in 2017. And they did it on their very first try — the only organization to ever achieve such a feat. Who was that overalls-and-rainbow-glitter-clad crew of more than a hundred bluegrass fans, pickers, and professionals? Bluegrass Pride.

The Bluegrass Situation has been proud to support Bluegrass Pride since 2017, with our logo emblazoned on the inaugural float that carried three bluegrass and old-time bands down Market Street to the cheers of thousands of brand new “Foggy Mountain Breakdown” fans. In 2020, the nonprofit organization had planned its biggest Pride celebrations yet (in San Francisco; Portland, Oregon; Raleigh, North Carolina; and Nashville, Tennessee) while still welcoming the rural and non-metropolitan LGBTQ+ folks who love and make these musics, too.

Enter our most familiar villain, COVID-19. In response, Bluegrass Pride has shifted to a new concept, Porch Pride: A Bluegrass Pride Queer-antine Festival. Featuring more than ten hours of music by queer and allied artists such as Cathy Fink & Marcy Marxer, Molly Tuttle, Sam Gleaves, Jake Blount, Rachel Baiman, and more, the livestream event will air June 27 and 28 on Bluegrass Pride’s website, YouTube channel, and Facebook and Instagram pages. Porch Pride will raise money for Bluegrass Pride and all of the musicians on the bill. Fans and followers are encouraged to donate now.

To celebrate Porch Pride with our longtime friends at Bluegrass Pride, we connected with Executive Director Kara Kundert and powerhouse singer/songwriter and the digital festival’s “headliner” Amythyst Kiah.

BGS: For those unfamiliar with Bluegrass Pride, how would you describe it?

Kara Kundert: Oh, what a big question. In a purely statutory sense, I would say that Bluegrass Pride is a nonprofit organization devoted to the advancement of LGBTQ+ people within the bluegrass, old-time, and broader roots music traditions. To get a little bit more descriptive, we work every day to make bluegrass a more welcoming place for people of all backgrounds. Our mission is to show the world that bluegrass is for everyone, so we try to create programs that serve all kinds of people who love and participate in American traditional music. We put on local beginner-friendly jams and create introductory video content to help people get involved with the community even as they’re just starting out, and we host concerts and showcases to create paid opportunities for professional musicians.

Amythyst Kiah: …Simply, my idea of what something like Bluegrass Pride represents: It is about accepting all forms of identity and expression in a style of music that is known for having a more traditional culture, and it’s also an outlet for queer people who don’t fit the stereotype of gay club culture. As iconic and important gay club culture is historically, it isn’t everyone’s experience.

How did the idea for Porch Pride come to you? 

Kundert: Via the incredibly talented Jake Blount! Jake is on the Bluegrass Pride board of directors and he came to me back in March (just as everything was starting to shut down and we were holing up for quarantine) to suggest that Bluegrass Pride host a digital festival to support artists in the face of the first round of gig cancellations. He had participated in the first iteration of the Stay At Home Festival and had seen how much energy and support there were for these artists, and thought that it was a natural fit for Bluegrass Pride and our mission.

At that point in time, it was still really unclear how long and how bad the COVID pandemic was going to be — we still believed that SF Pride was going to march down Market Street in June — so I was a little nervous to take on the project. I was worried that we wouldn’t have the resources to do everything and do it well. We started discussing smaller-scale projects, like weekly concert series or short little weekend showcases, things that we would have the budget to do in addition to our regular programming.

But within a couple of weeks, it became pretty clear that our whole season was going to change dramatically, and that was when the plan shifted from being “maybe we’ll host a couple of digital concerts to keep momentum before Pride” to creating Porch Pride and really making it the center of our entire year.

People don’t tend to think of bluegrass or roots music when it comes to Pride celebrations, and obviously y’all think that needs to change! Why? What does bluegrass and string band music bring to the greater LGBTQ+ community? 

Kiah: I see this event and organization as a way to formally recognize that LGBTQ+ have always been present in the communities where bluegrass and other roots-based music originated from. Historically, media has projected many ideas of what being queer looks and sounds like, and it’s high time to recognize and celebrate other ways of being and doing when it comes to music.

Kundert: I think that there’s a problem whenever people aren’t being represented. So it was a problem for bluegrass that LGBTQ+ stories and music weren’t being heard onstage. It was a problem when queer folks were being excluded from jams and from gigs just because of their identity. And it’s a problem for the LGBTQ+ community that this portion of our family isn’t being included in the conversation about what “gayness” is. We as a culture have this extremely metropolitan, white, male-centric idea of what the LGBTQ+ community is, which is what you really see on display on these corporate floats at the major cities’ Pride parades, and it leaves out so many people. There are as many ways to be queer as there are colors under the sun, and that’s something that we as a [bluegrass] community need to do more to embrace in order to support and uplift every single person in the LGBTQ+ community.

Amythyst, with your songwriting and your work with Our Native Daughters you’ve been a powerful voice, lifting up Black songs and stories. How does that perspective as a Black woman complement Bluegrass Pride for you? What do these two movements have in common, and what do they combine?

Kiah: Both movements involve recognizing and uplifting marginalized voices, due to the continued generational trauma that both have had to endure. Being Black, a woman, typically gender-nonconformant, and queer, I have experienced some form of questionable actions, treated as if I was invisible, and [received] looks of contempt by other people. I am fortunate that I haven’t experienced much worse, but that being said, I was terrified of my own shadow for years before I really started to embrace myself and be myself. So Bluegrass Pride is about recognizing that we all have value, just as Songs of Our Natives is about.

Kara, planning a Pride event can be a major undertaking. What is the reward for you, on a personal level, after putting in so many hours to prepare?

Kundert: Creating and running these events is always such an emotional rollercoaster. There’s so much anxiety and energy in the planning: Are people going to show up? Is it going to go well? Are people going to connect with it, or are they just not going to care at all? But then in the moment, you get to listen to this wonderful music by talented people, and be with a crowd of people that want to support Bluegrass Pride, and it’s euphoric. So far, I haven’t been let down by that moment of standing in a crowd and experiencing that kind of threefold-payoff of enjoying the music as an audience member, enjoying the crowd and energy as someone standing on stage, and enjoying the sheer relief of not totally fucking up as a producer.

But beyond that very selfish gratification, I also know how much these events mean to people. I know there are people who play bluegrass right now — people who are showing up at jams and forming bands and going to festivals — because Bluegrass Pride made them feel welcome and safe to be there. There are people who found Bluegrass Pride and realized that maybe they could come out after all. I know that these events — our parade float in San Francisco, our LGBTQ+ Musician Showcase in Raleigh, our beginner-friendly jams — they mean something to people. So when I get to stand in the crowd and see people’s smiles and feel people’s energy, both on- and off-stage, it makes me feel like what we’re doing matters to people. That all of the work and the hours and the stress: they add up to something bigger than just myself or my own feelings of relief and exhaustion. And that’s what keeps me going after four years of being a part of Bluegrass Pride.

What are you most looking forward to during Porch Pride? 

Kundert: I know this is a cliche to say, but I’m looking forward to all of it — I put together the lineup after all! We have so many talented artists, I’m just looking forward to hearing all of their great music and seeing how people come together to celebrate Pride with us this year.

Kiah: I am looking forward to (hopefully) finding a quiet place outside to share some stories and music! If only it could be done in person, but I’ll take what I can get! Being safe [is a] top priority.

How can we all celebrate Pride “better” this year? 

Kiah: I think one thing to keep in mind is that not everyone can safely be out of the closet, and that we should always keep those folks in our thoughts and to remember that [there is] more than one way to live out our truths in a way that we see most fit. Whenever we are waving our rainbow flags or wearing our rainbow suspenders, we’re also wearing them for the ones that can’t be with us.

Kundert: I think the key to best celebrating Pride — and to best doing most things in life — is to take a page from the author John Green and put energy into imagining people more complexly. If we imagine Pride more complexly, we see beyond the metronormative, white, cis, corporate stereotypes of Pride and begin to see new possibilities — for a Pride without all the weird classist, toxic binarism and gate-keeping. If we imagine bluegrass more complexly, we can break out of these same tired tropes that we’ve been falling into years and start telling new stories — using this art form as a way to create authentic and fresh connections with people.

We must do everything we can to see and honor people in all of their nuance. By forming connections with people, we are able to glimpse outside of our own lives. To do so enables us to generate empathy for each other, to see each other as family rather than strangers, or worse, as adversaries. To expand our circles and grow our vision of humanity will help us to better fight for justice for all, rather than justice for a few.

Photo credit: Anna Hedges
Artwork: Courtesy of Bluegrass Pride

A New Cookbook From Music Community Gives Us ‘All the Thyme in the World’

Posted on by Justin Hiltner

Nashville business owner and frequent BGS collaborator Maria Ivey apparently didn’t have enough on her agenda when a tornado hit Music City in early March and the music industry subsequently shut down due to the COVID-19 pandemic. That’s the moment when she started quite the gargantuan project — a community cookbook.

All the Thyme in the World features scores of recipes — soups and appetizers, sauces and mains, desserts and breakfasts — from the aptly described “grounded” music industry, which includes a true cross-section of musicians, performers, touring professionals, industry experts, writers, designers, and so on.

The volume leans into the homespun, down-to-earth charm of DIY community cookbooks common in the South and across rural America, taking wisdom from lovable food nerd Alton Brown himself, as referenced in the foreword:

“First, such books must be spiral-bound or they are not to be trusted. Second, all recipes must be directly attributed to a member of the community. Food is mighty personal, and the sharing of a recipe, especially one that may have been polished and perfected through years of practice, is powerful medicine. Third, community cookbooks must be truly democratic…”

Not only is All the Thyme in the World democratic, powerful medicine, mighty personal, and yes, spiral-bound, its profits will support the vital work of the Music Health Alliance’s COVID-19 & Tornado Relief programs. The first pre-order period closes June 1. Music + food fans are encouraged to order now to make the first printing.

https://www.instagram.com/p/B-0UARbBex4/

BGS connected with Maria Ivey over email to discuss the project and give a sneak peek at a couple of the recipes.

BGS: A deadly tornado hit Nashville in early March, barely preceding the coronavirus pandemic, so “disaster mode” here has been going on a little longer and has been a little more intense than in a lot of other cities — and you still added this project to your plate! Why is it so important to you? 

Maria Ivey: We have to take care of each other!! If we want to believe that the music industry will snap back after some semblance of normalcy returns, we have to ensure that aid is given to keep creators creating. Music Health Alliance does just that. The idea for this cookbook came while I was sitting at the kitchen table, staring down the future wondering what the hell I would do with my hands and all of this time. I sent a few late night emails asking foodie music friends for recipes and help, which were then forwarded to other folks — some I knew, some I didn’t. While I was writing press releases for countless festival cancellations I was cooking nonstop. Three meals a day, sometimes four, crowding the fridge with leftovers and feeding the excess to the dog and chickens. Partly because staying home was the right thing to do and partly because I had to do what my bones told me to do. 

Proceeds from this cookbook will go to Music Health Alliance’s COVID-19 & Tornado Relief Program. I have personally witnessed the good this organization does for our musical community and am honored to aid their efforts with this cookbook. 

Why do you think musicians, creators, performers, and folks in the industry responded in such numbers? What is it about cooking and the kitchen that makes them so closely intertwined with music?

Cooking and music are both creative endeavors. It makes sense that some of the best songwriters or musicians I know are also the most interesting cooks. For example Christian Sedelmyer is a monster musician, but he’s equally capable in the kitchen, probably because he pays attention to flavors and knows how to make ingredients compliment each other. Not unlike what he does with the fiddle.

Inside you’ll find recipes from journalists and photographers, publishers and interns, a drum tech for arena tours and a tour manager who always drives the late shift, songwriters and banjo players, festival producers and super fans, a beloved Nashville guitar shop owner and The Late Show’s band leader, Bowie’s bass player and a Grand Ole Opry host. And Dolly Parton. I chose to leave off job titles and places of employment because none of those labels have a bearing on how food tastes. 

The cookbook is an incredible way to visualize the community we all have surrounding us (myself and BGS executive director Amy Reitnouer Jacobs both submitted recipes as well). What have you learned about this community that has surprised you most? 

I guess it’s not really surprising, but I was reminded of — floored by, even — how willing folks are to help each other. People I have never met volunteered to help me format recipes. My neighbors, all involved in music in some way or another, offered to help ship out books once printed. 

Gena Johnson emailed something like 50 people for recipes. Shelly Colvin, too. Both blasted the recipe request to god knows how many people helping to fatten the book up. Journalist and editor friends, like yourself, emailed me asking how to best spread the word. Grant Prettyman immediately jumped in to design the cover art and layout, citing his Atlanta upbringing and his mother’s collection of Junior League cookbooks as inspiration for the aesthetic.

A quick Google search led me to Pollock Printing, a third-generation family printer in Nashville. I had a long and happy conversation with the owner, John Craig — someone I’ve still not met in person — who knew several of my clients and told sweet stories of his dad leading bluegrass jams. Dacey Sivewright, a friend [and BGS contributor] who has been writing about music for over a decade, reached out to offer help editing the recipes. I stopped saying “I” and started saying “we.”

Then we had 100 recipes. And then 200. When the website went live, orders poured in from people I had never met and from places I had never been. My brother ordered 15 copies. I cried. And just like that, the world didn’t feel so scary and I didn’t feel so alone. We didn’t feel so alone. Apart, yes. But not alone. 

You must be so excited to get to tasting these recipes! Have you tried any yet? What have you tried and what are you excited to get to cooking?

JoJo Hermann (keys player for Widespread Panic) submitted a family recipe for whole bird “Vinegar Chicken.” I tried it a few weeks ago and it was incredible, the vinegar marinade takes what can be an otherwise bland protein and made it interesting and punchy, and the skin was super crisp. I made broth with the leftover bones. I laughed because he submitted the recipe and then his sister emailed me to make sure everything was correct. Definitely something that would happen in my family. 

Marshall Chapman sent in “Pork Noodle Soup,” a recipe she adapted from the New York Times. I made it on one of the colder days in March and it was instant warmth (fresh grated ginger and garlic) and comfort (rice noodles and pork fat). I haven’t made Jon Batiste’s recipe for “Katherine’s Red Beans,” but it’s on my to-do list for this weekend. Everyone I know who is from New Orleans is an excellent cook so I’m excited to try his take on this classic.

And there must be some Ivey family recipes in the mix as well?

Yes! I gave a recipe for “Green Jacket Green Beans” (when the beans turn Augusta National Green, they are ready to be eaten) and my husband, Taylor, put his “Sunday Morning Biscuits” in the book. I’m partial, but they are both excellent, and easy! Salt and fat. Always. I’ve been known to order a side of green beans with my biscuits and breakfast at Cracker Barrel, so it’s fitting that these recipes are our contributions. 

I’m glad to have had a reason to write them down. Several people said that about their recipes, too — thanking me for giving them a reason for writing down whatever their famed dish is, getting specific with measurements and ingredients. We have to archive this stuff! It’s so easy to Google for a recipe but I’d like to see a return to cookbooks, community cookbooks in particular. 

Let’s make it painfully clear for our readers before we go — how can they support All the Thyme in the World?

Pre-order here before June 1 to be included in the first print run! 

Photo credit: Melissa Madison Fuller