Tag: country music hall of fame

Ronnie Milsap’s Final Nashville Show Displays His Broad Musical Impact

Posted on by Justin Hiltner

The career of singer-songwriter Ronnie Milsap has been remarkably inclusive from an idiomatic standpoint, even if it’s also accurate to say his greatest acclaim has come within country circles. But over the course of five plus decades in the performing and recording arena, Milsap has also toured with James Brown and Ray Charles, been a pianist for JJ Cale, had R&B hits – with songs penned by Ashford & Simpson or previously recorded by Chuck Jackson – cut successful gospel and adult contemporary songs and albums, and even worked the oldies circuit while covering ’50s classic rock and roll and doo-wop.

Still, it’s his poignant, soul-tinged country tunes that have made Ronnie Milsap so beloved, while earning him induction into the Country Music Hall of Fame and membership in the Grand Ole Opry. A two-time Country Music Association Male Vocalist of the Year, Milsap also helped induct longtime friend and mentor Charles (who once encouraged him to choose music over law school) into the Country Hall of Fame. During the ’70s and ’80s Milsap enjoyed a frequent presence on the country charts, and during the ’80s scored thirteen of his thirty-five number one hits. 

Even as times and tastes changed, Milsap adapted and continued to enjoy success through the ’90s and into the next millennium. Now, at 80, he recently decided it was time to call a halt to performing in Music City. Pausing a couple of weeks before his final Nashville show at Bridgestone Arena October 3, Milsap told BGS that there’s one idiom he loves that folks don’t often cite or acknowledge when discussing his influences.

“Man I love bluegrass too,” Milsap said. “Those harmonies, the melodies, that’s a sound that I’ve always enjoyed. Some people didn’t understand exactly where ‘Smoky Mountain Rain’ came from, but that’s the influence. Also gospel is a big influence and of course, I’ve always loved country and soul music. All of it I just absorbed and worked into my own style.”

That sound, an inspired blend of mellow tone and emphatic delivery has made the list of unforgettable Milsap tunes a lengthy one: “(There’s) No Gettin’ Over Me,” “Pure Love,” “Only One Love In My Live,” “(I’m A) Stand By My Woman Man,” or “Daydreams About Night Things,” to cite just five of his numerous hits. Milsap has managed the difficult task of being both sentimental and evocative, never letting his vocals become maudlin or exaggerated, and always credible and persuasive in his stories and testimonies.

Milsap’s also maintained a healthy interest in contemporary happenings and performers, as evidenced by his 2018 LP The Duets, which he called “one of my favorites.”

“Man I love that Kelly Clarkson,” he added. “She’s fantastic. Working with her was a thrill and I love how she sings. Ricky Skaggs, he’s one of the all-time greatest musicians I’ve ever seen and heard. He’s incredible. There are still so many good young singers out there and great musicians in Nashville. It’s a real pleasure to hear them, and I’m so happy about this show coming up. It’s such an honor.”

The last Milsap concert was billed as “The Final Nashville Show,” and a packed house filled Bridgestone Arena two weeks ago. Twenty-nine artists across the country spectrum performed 30 tunes to mark Milsap’s 50 years. The event was co-hosted by radio veterans Storme Warren (The Big 615) and Bill Cody (WSM), while such luminaries as Reba McEntire, Dolly Parton, Clint Black, and Luke Bryan whose schedules didn’t permit them to attend or participate sent videotaped tributes. In addition, prior to the show, new Nashville mayor Freddie O’Connell declared it “Ronnie Milsap Day,” and Tennessee governor Bill Lee added an official proclamation honoring Milsap’s “Final Nashville Show.”

Depending on personal perspective and taste, there were multiple highlights. One contemporary star who got maximum exposure and delivered a powerhouse performance was Scotty McCreery, whose version of “Pure Love” was a big audience winner, as was Randy Houser’s “Don’t You Ever Get Tired (of Hurting Me)” and Trace Adkins’ “She Keeps the Home Fires Burning.” 

Kelly Clarkson’s “It Was Almost Like a Song” was a show stopper, as powerful and dynamic as anything anyone did during the evening, and a rousing rebuttal to those who think her iconic daytime status protects another overrated celebrity. A pair of surprises were gospel vocalist/pianist Gordon Mote and contemporary Christian star Steven Curtis Chapman. Both took secular tunes and soared on them; Mote on “Lost In the Fifties Tonight (In the Still of the Night)” and Chapman on “What a Difference You’ve Made In My Life.”

Band of Heathen’s rendition of “Houston Solution” and Breland’s cover of “Any Day Now” got polite applause, while rousing songs performed by Sara Evans (“Let’s Take the Long Way Around the World,”), The McCrary Sisters (“Stand By Me,” and also appearing backing Clarkson), Terri Clark (“My Love”) and Lorrie Morgan (“I’d Be A Legend In My Time”) reaffirmed the appeal Milsap’s best tunes have had for both men and women vocalists. Elizabeth Cook’s “Nobody Likes Sad Songs” added another element, that of a fresh, lesser known but emerging artist enhancing her reputation with a strong and impressive performance.

Appropriately, the guest of honor closed the show, and while Milsap at 80 isn’t the singer he was in his prime, he remains an effective entertainer. His closing set began with “Smoky Mountain Rain,” and also included “America the Beautiful,” “Stranger In My House,” and “There’s No Getting Over Me.” The night ended with a stage full of the performers who’d previously paid homage to Milsap backing him on an engaging version of the Rolling Stones’ “Honky Tonk Woman.”

Throughout the evening, all the performers were superbly supported by the Nashville session band Sixwire, augmented by special guests like the great Country Music Hall of Famer Charlie McCoy and saxophonist/steel guitarist John Heinrich, a longtime Milsap band member. It was a memorable night, and a wonderful celebration of a premier American musical talent.

Photo courtesy of Gold Mountain Entertainment

Black Opry’s Holly G in Conversation with BGS’s Amy Reitnouer Jacobs

Posted on by Justin Hiltner

(Editor’s Note: This conversation between Black Opry co-director Holly G and BGS executive director Amy Reitnouer Jacobs was moderated by journalist Jewly Hight and marks the culmination of our Artist of the Month coverage of Black Opry. Find more on Black Opry here.)

“I just wrote this down, because I need to look at this every single day,” Amy Reitnouer Jacobs informs Holly G while scribbling on a sticky note: “Your name’s on there. You get full credit.”

Holly G, the creator of the Black Opry, has just dropped a gem of practical, principled wisdom that she’s developed through dealing with event organizers, entertainment companies, and institutions who expect her to lend them her presence, while withholding her critiques of the racial biases baked into how they operate. Her hard-line posture? “My participation is not an endorsement.”

Even in a matter as small as pinning that sentence to her wall, an act we observe on the Zoom screen, longtime BGS leader Reitnouer Jacobs knows well the importance of receiving proper credit, and compensation, as a persevering music industry dreamer and doer who’s also a woman.

These two founders of influential, community-shaping music platforms have crossed paths on plenty of occasions, but they’d never before stopped to compare notes. Their work addresses the insularity of music scenes in different ways, Holly G’s taking aim at country music’s exclusion of Black performers and Reitnouer Jacobs’ at bluegrass’ fierce protectiveness of perceived threats to its purity. Still, the similarities between what they’ve experienced, how they’ve responded and who they’ve paid attention to pile up rapidly in our Zoom conversation. 

By the time we’re through, Reitnouer Jacobs signing off from her Los Angeles home office and Holly G abandoning her laptop to check on guests she’s invited to a Black Opry mixer at a rented house in Nashville, they’re feeling a significant overlap in their labor and making plans to actually, some day, do something together.

Jewly Hight: You both had careers completely outside of music and then your own fandom drove you to start blogs and put your stakes in the ground in the digital space. I was thinking back to the crossroads moment that you each must’ve reached where you were starting to get a response and see other ways that you could decide to get involved in those musical spaces. What really mattered to making the decision to expand each of your missions?

Holly G: I don’t feel like it was a decision for me. I’ve never consented to any of this. [Laughs]

I feel like it really, really shifted right after you interviewed me for the first time, and that article went up on NPR. That’s when everybody was like, “Oh, this is serious.” And because what we were actually doing was so vague, because I didn’t have a plan, people were just asking me to do everything; I had never said what I could or couldn’t do. By the time people started asking me for heavier lifts, I had already met these artists and I was so invested in the artists and seeing how hard they worked. I was like, “I’m never gonna say ‘No’ to anything. What could be good for them? What could push them forward?” A lot of it just went over my head, ‘cuz I was just saying “Yes.” And then I was like, “Oh shit, how did we get here?”

Amy Reitnouer Jacobs: That actually really resonates, when you said once you started meeting the artists that suddenly you saw where the needs were. That was a huge shift for me. I mean, I got into this as a fan, but I really didn’t think about writing about this community, this genre until I started to become friends with the artists that were involved and get to know them and become kind of part of their circles.

I think there was definitely a moment of, “Oh wait, you’re not being served? We’ll work on that. We’ll start covering that. Wait, you also are not being represented over here? Let’s cover this, too.” I’ve had to learn how to say “No” over the years, but my immediate instinct is always to say “yes” and then figure it out.

HG: My rule is if it’s not gonna negatively affect my mental health, then I say, “Yes.” That’s where I draw my line at. As an outsider, when you come in, you see the gaps, but then you also see how easy it would be to fix them. Sometimes people don’t know or they’ve just never been asked to do the right thing. But if you can have somebody [involved] that’s not an artist, they’re like, “There’s no ulterior motive.” Nobody thinks that I’m asking for Black people to get on stage so that I can go sing, ‘cuz we all know I can’t. 

JH: It changed everything when you each were put in close proximity to artists who were working toward things, and had ambitions and scenes that they were part of or wanted to be a part of. What did it actually look like to turn your desire to help into strategies?

ARJ: When you’re actually given real responsibility that you have to show up for and deliver, suddenly it all becomes a lot more real. I had to go through a perspective shift.

I would say producing the IBMA Awards was a really big thing, because it was suddenly very, very real. It wasn’t just me being like, “What the fuck, IBMA? Come on, get your shit together.” It was like, “Now they’ve handed me something that I can make a change in, and I have to do it and I have to do it right. And I have to do it to not only to an industry standard, but to the personal standards with which I wanna move forward and I wanna see this industry move forward.” So that and doing a [BGS] stage at Bonnaroo, doing a lot of the curatorial stages, like what Black Opry does as well. I think when you suddenly are putting this out in a packaged way for everyone to see, it kind of makes it all a little bit more real.

HG: It’s really cool to hear your perspective, because as you know, there’s not a lot of people who have journeys that are like ours.

When you say going from yelling about it to being in the room and they’re asking you what to do about it is a very weird feeling. Especially because I wasn’t criticizing [the country music industry] with any intent for anybody to ask me any questions. It’s like going into somebody’s house and you’re like, “I hate this wall color.” And they’re like, “Okay, well paint it.” And I’m like, “Well, I’m just giving you my opinion.” You know what I mean?

JH: There’s a big difference between critiquing from a distance and being handed a thing and asked to work on changing it. That raises the stakes.

HG: I was speaking before I knew what I know now, but as a fan, you’re not thinking about how the industry works. You’re just seeing the flaws and you’re like, “Well, this doesn’t make any sense.” But you’re not ever thinking with the expectation that you’re gonna have to be the one to fix it.

When we started booking shows that we were actually getting paid for, as soon as money started coming in, I was like, “Whoa, that always feels like a big responsibility to me.” Because it wasn’t a career aspiration of mine, not in any real substantial way. Once money started coming in, I’m like, “Number one, this needs to be distributed fairly.”

It took me a long time to take money from shows. My agent would yell at me all the time. She’s like, “Why aren’t you paying yourself?” And I’m like, “Well, because I wanna make sure the artists get paid.” And she’s like, “This is a business. You’re doing work. You have to pay yourself.” Finally, after exhausting myself and realizing that the exhaustion was because of the work that I was putting into it, I’m like, “Okay, I’ll pay myself.” 

ARJ: Holly, that really struck a chord with me, what you said about the money. When those stakes came in, it was like, “Oh, this isn’t just a blog anymore.” There is something on the line and there’s someone investing in me and in this idea, too, and they’re investing with the trust that I’m gonna do the good work. 

It took me over five years not to start necessarily paying myself, but to start prioritizing myself and considering myself part of that package, rather than just putting everything I had into it, at the sacrifice of personal life and sometimes physical and mental health and financial choices. 

HG: I wouldn’t have made it that long. But you know why, though? I got to that point so much quicker, only because a lot of the things that people were asking me to do were so emotionally draining, like to constantly go through racial trauma and explain myself. That shit is so exhausting. I very quickly was like, “What am I getting out of this?” I do not mind taking money from that at all. 

I still don’t think that I’ve seen the changes I would like to see overall – in any facet of the industry. But what I have seen is individual artists’ lives completely changed. They can tour in a different way because of the way that we tour. Our tour minimum is $400 per show. So they can go out and play a show with us for $400, and that means that they can go to that area and play a couple other bars where they might not really get paid anything, but they’ve gotten something to get up there to help them get a little bit of a leg up.

JH: You were talking about learning how things work in the industry. I imagine that part of that involved coming to understand the established pipelines that exist in country music, in bluegrass, and in roots music, how they work, who they work for, and who they don’t work for. Realizing that they are not built in a way that is meant to serve everyone. You didn’t just accept that those established models are the only options. What kind of relationship do you each have to the industry? And where do you place your trust?

HG: I don’t trust anybody. My mission is to serve the artists. My personal feeling is that we need to build systems outside of what exists and so that we can build it in a better way. Because you’re not gonna go into an institution that’s been around for a hundred years and fix things that have been wrong for a hundred years. It’s not gonna happen, especially not gonna happen quickly. 

However, it is not my right or privilege to tell an artist that they shouldn’t participate in the industry. So that being said, I have to work in parallel. Yes, I’m building things, but I also have to interact with the industry in a way that I can advocate for the artists that wanna participate in that.

And so when I do interact with the industry, it’s basically like, “What can I get out of you?” Because I know this is how they look at me. And so my first thing is, “What do you have that I can get that will serve me, that will serve my artists, that will serve my mission and my brand?” If what I can get from you feels like it’ll be worth whatever it is that you want to take from me, then I do it. But if I can’t get something back, that’s gonna make that exploitation worth it–because that’s what the whole industry is, exploitation–then I just move on.

ARJ: It took me a while to realize that, when I was talking about not prioritizing myself and not paying or taking care of myself, that in doing so I was actually falling into the trap that so many of these institutions had established of not paying women the same amount, not paying us what we’re worth.

I know that there are industry standards of not paying Black women what they’re worth, even less. I thought for a while that just by being part of this panel or whatever, I’m doing the right thing, ‘cuz I’m there and I’m representing something new and different and fresh and modern.

But by accepting an honorarium that I would find out later was less than some of the male names also appearing at a conference, I was falling into the same trap. It still enrages me, still gets me mad and so I feel like now I can be in, but not of a lot of these institutions. I’m happy to work with them if they’re gonna pay up and have us there for a reason, but I’m not going to serve them. I am not going to help, assist or fix what is institutionally wrong.

That’s partially why I’m really proud that BGS has continued to be independently run and owned this whole time, because we don’t answer to anybody, and nor do I plan to.

HG: I’ve pissed quite a few people off, ‘cuz I’ll work with them, but then after it’s over, they do something else. Then I criticize them and they’re like, “But wait, you came and did a panel for us.” And I’m like, “My participation is not an endorsement.” My presence does not mean you are off the hook for everything that you have done or going to do in the future. And so it has been interesting to watch them fall apart as I continue to criticize them and to see which ones come back after that. And that’s how I can tell whether or not they actually wanna do the work. If I criticize you and you come back for more, that tells me how you wanna do the work. That’s been a really good filtering tool for me.

JH: Even with the healthy skepticism that you’re each describing, you’ve managed to execute really massive events and partnerships. How do you make those decisions about what powerful people or institutions are worth partnering with?

HG: There’s no science to it, I feel like, because the other thing is there’s good people at bad places and that’s across the board. If I can find the good people at the bad place, then I’ll work with those people. And that’s just kind of how I do it. 

I’ve gotten to the point now where I tell them that part up front: “This does not absolve you from anything that you do. I’m still gonna speak up.” One of the things that I’m afraid of happening is for people to look at what I’m doing and be like, “Okay, well she got in the room now, so I guess everything’s fine. She’s not speaking out anymore.” I don’t want it to look like I’ve closed the door behind me. If you can’t handle that, then we don’t have any business together. And as long as you find those good people, they’re gonna understand that and they’re gonna push forward anyway.

And sometimes because of that, I’ve had people tell me, “Please continue to criticize us, because that’s the only way I can get my bosses to do [anything] is when you won’t shut the fuck up on Twitter.”

ARJ: For the most part, I find that there are really good people on the ground, doing the work and for me, a lot of it just comes down to – I don’t know – intuition. It’s not necessarily a financial thing. It’s not necessarily a visibility thing. I think that’s kind of my unofficial business strategy, which is probably not something that they teach you to do when you have an MBA. But I never planned to get into this job to begin with, so I just go on intuition and I work with people I love. I return to things that I love and places that take care of our artists and take care of our community and take care of us. Those are the people that I will continue to invest in and go back to.

JH: Bluegrass, Americana, roots, and country are so often spoken of as though they are strongholds of authenticity insulated from commerce, to an extent. But we know that all of these spaces are inherently commercial if anyone’s trying to make a living off of them. So as people who are very invested in building community where it doesn’t exist in the ways that it needs to, how do you hold those two things next to each other?

HG: I do not. I think that also the whole conversation about authenticity is bullshit. It’s a way to move the goalpost, so that they can keep the people they want in and keep the people they want out out: “That’s not real country. That’s not real Americana.” It doesn’t fucking matter, because what makes it real is usually who makes it. If they look at somebody and they recognize that person as somebody that they want in that space, they’ll accept anything. It doesn’t matter what it sounds like if it comes from the right person. It’s a tool that they use so that if somebody comes along that they don’t feel like fits in because of their gender, their sexuality, their color, whatever it is, they can then say, “Oh, well then it’s not real X, Y, Z,” and they can get away with it. 

JH: I also want to get at how you’re acknowledging that this is commercial, but also insisting that building community matters. How do you do both at the same time?

HG: Very easily. ‘Cuz you do things where you bring people together behind the scenes when you know everybody’s in town. That’s what we do. We get a house and we make sure everybody has somewhere to come together. But when you ask me to show up at the thing, I’m gonna ask you for a check. You’re gonna pay me to have official participation, but behind the scenes, we do things that build community. I feel like that’s all relative, right? So I’m not gonna go to a festival that’s just starting up and be like, “We need $20,000.” But if you’re paying everybody, make sure you pay us what’s fair in relation to what you have. So it’s just figuring that part out, but also always making sure you’re asking for it. I’ve learned to ask upfront, “What’s your budget?” Because that way I know where the conversation is gonna go.

JH: That’s sort of like reverse gatekeeping, in a sense. When you put together events or decide to gather artists to participate under the name of Black Opry, some of those things are for the public, outward-facing performances. Then there are things you do, like rent this house and invite who you want to be here, where you’re creating a safe, private space.

HG: The way that I curate the shows is more community driven. I try to pair up artists, especially if they’re traveling for a tour, that I feel like their personalities either mesh or there’s something in their story that I know would [connect] with each other or like things like that. It doesn’t matter if two artists’ music would sound great on the same bill, if those people don’t connect. I mean, I can put people together that sound completely different. I’ve had Jake Blount and Kentucky Gentlemen on a show together before, and they all were so excited to be with each other. The best part of our shows is usually the green room. That’s kind of a private, intimate space.

ARJ: You keep saying a lot of parallel things to what we do. I didn’t realize how parallel some of our experiences have been, and it just makes me love you more, Holly.

So much of what we’ve done over the years, it will never be public facing and the public will never even know about, because it’s not why we do it. And I think it’s what makes artists continue to come back to BGS events or wanna be covered on the site. Artists that, 10 years ago, I would’ve never thought I’d ever get the time of day from will say “Yes” to things because we put them first and we have given them a safe and fun and communal space to be together.

When I started BGLA originally, and then BGS, I wanted it to be this place for modern fans, for younger fans, for all fans that I didn’t think were being served or represented. I think for a while I was really susceptible to this yarn that they were spinning of, “There’s just not enough women in bluegrass. There’s just no Black people in bluegrass.” And I’m like, “Wait, I don’t know if that’s right.” And then the more you dig and the more you get involved, you’re like, “These communities have been here the whole time.” This is not only about creating community, this is about connecting community. This is about bringing communities together, representing them, and, and connecting the dots, whether it’s a digital community or artists in a green room or in a house to hang out for a jam.

HG: It’s so funny, like how the parallels keep coming up. Cause people have asked me a lot recently in interviews, “How do you feel about this revolution in country music?” And I’m like, “It’s not a revolution. It’s recognition.” This has been here the whole fucking time.

JH: There are deeply entrenched perceptions about what the country fan base looks like that are based on the continual and artificial segregation of the industry. And there are equally entrenched perceptions of what a bluegrass fan base looks like, based on the fervent reverence for the models laid down by the first generations of musicians. How have you developed ways of speaking to audiences within audiences, those that have gone unseen and overlooked?

HG: I’m telling you, I thought I was the only one when I started Black Opry. It was more like a search and explore mission than it was like an intentional, “I’m gonna find these people.” Because as a Black person that loves country music, I promise you, anytime you tell somebody that, you get looked at like you just fell out of a UFO.

I was equally surprised when I found artists. I didn’t think there were more than five artists. I was like, “We got Mickey, Jimmie, Kane and Darius.”

There was so much passionate relief when people started seeing you and feeling seen. It still surprises me. And I’ll be honest: We still haven’t gotten to where we need to be as far as the fan base with country music. There are a lot more queer fans simply because there are a lot more white, queer people that like country music. So we’ve built up a really, really big white, queer fan base. 

A big priority for me this year is how do we connect with Black fans? Because the Black publications and the places that Black people go to for music typically don’t interact with country music.

But I will say, every show that we’ve had that I’ve been to, there’s at least one Black person that comes up to me and goes, “I thought I hated country music, but I saw the word Black in front of it, so I came just to see what it was. ‘Cuz it sounded weird. And I loved all of this. If I knew country music was like this, I would’ve known I liked it.” We’re trying really hard to figure out how we get to those people in a more broad way and get more of them. We need our audiences to look like what we want our stages to look like.

A lot of the places I’ve been to, regardless of how kind the organizers have been, it doesn’t always feel safe. And so there’s no part of me that wants to advocate for Black people to come into some of these spaces, because I can’t guarantee they’re gonna feel good. At Newport [Folk Festival], we felt good, even with being all white people. It’s just the type of people that they attract; they’re good people. And so we’ve really, really been interested in seeing how we can figure that piece of it out, where we get more Black people to these spaces. But, I can’t consciously advocate for too much of that yet, because I need to see the institutions doing the work to make it safe.

JH: So it’s still very much an open question of how you find, reach, and speak to Black country fans.

ARJ: Something that we asked ourselves very early on was not how do we reach other Bluegrass fans or where do we look for other Bluegrass fans, but where are we not looking? Who are we not reaching? What’s gonna be unexpected in that crossover Venn diagram of fandom?

Because like you were saying, you felt like you were the only one. I felt like I was in a minority of young, urban dwelling, West Coast, female fans that didn’t grow up in the South, you know? I started the whole thing from a need to connect with other people. I mean, it really stemmed out of loneliness. But I realized that my online demographics wouldn’t have made me a targeted fan if I were launching BGS. Like, any advertising or any kind of targeting we would’ve been doing, I myself wouldn’t have been found.

I think we just realized within our first three, four years, we have to turn ourselves outwards and reject everything that we’ve been told of who fans are and who communities are. And we have to be looking elsewhere, and we’re continuing to do that. It’s a question that we’re constantly asking ourselves, and I think it’s something that you’re never done searching for because there’s always someone else who feels like they have been excluded or that they are alone in this, whether they’re a fan or a player, or they don’t know what they are yet.

I remember one of the first meetings that I had with some IBMA folks. They were like, “You keep putting up all this like modern stuff and this isn’t real bluegrass.” And I’m like, “You’re gonna tell me if a kid walks in to McCabe’s guitar shop in Santa Monica and wants to buy a Deering banjo and pick up a banjo for the first time ever because he watched a Mumford and Sons video, that you’re gonna tell him ‘No’? That you’re gonna say ‘No’ because that’s not bluegrass?” Fine, we don’t have to put a label on it. Why don’t you open up that door and introduce ’em to Earl Scruggs. Let’s take them down that rabbit hole and connect the dots once again for that person. How about we take their hand and help guide them through this expanse of everything?

JH: Since you mentioned a first-generation bluegrass icon, something that’s baked into country, bluegrass and roots music is venerating elders and creating canons. And that’s just as much about excluding people as it is about who belongs in the canon. 

You each make elders very present in what you do. Holly, you recently advocated for the Country Music Hall of Fame exhibit that includes the Black Opry to also include its predecessors, Frankie Staton and the Black Country Music Association. Amy, you make decisions about meaningful coverage of multiple generations of performers all the time, and BGS just published an appreciation of an underappreciated first-generation picker, Gloria Belle. How do you think about ways of doing that better than you’ve seen it done? 

HG: I don’t wanna make it seem like I strong-armed [the Country Music Hall of Fame and Museum]. I would not have had a problem strong-arming them, but they were gonna do it anyway. So they said, “We’ve already sent a letter to [Frankie]. Calm down.” And I was like, “Oh, okay.”

I don’t really think of it so much in that light that you’re describing as I do that we don’t have a record of Black country music history. For me, it’s about building that record. There’s so many people – like Wendy Moten. Wendy’s been singing with Faith Hill and Tim McGraw and Vince Gill for years and years and years. She’s part of Black country music history to me, and we have no record of that. Nobody’s ever talked about it. It’s about finding those people from the other generations that have been doing this long before it was something I ever thought about, and making sure they’re included in this narrative so that whoever comes up after us doesn’t have to work so hard to find these things out.

There’s no reason I shouldn’t have known the things that I’m finding out now until I had to literally dig for them — and I get access to a lot of it, ‘cuz people see what I’m doing and will bring stuff to me. But it’s not out there and ready for the public.

ARJ: Building that history is such an important part. And because we have a platform, because we have this online record that we are building, that’s part of our responsibility, is to help maintain that. 

Gloria Belle, like we heard about her passing and then we waited and there were no obits. And we were like, “Who’s, who’s gonna cover this? Oh wait, it’s us. We have to be the ones to cover it.” I should know that 10 years on. But I still get reminded time and time again, we still have to do the work. 

I am not one to venerate folks who maybe don’t deserve it. But I do think it’s the same idea of you’ve gotta know the rules in order to break them. You have to know the history in order to figure out where you’re going and how to break out of that and how to change it.

JH: You both are continually adapting how you present and position what you’re doing. Do you feel like you have come up against the limitations of genre? And have you looked for ways to free your efforts up from those limitations?

HG: Yeah, that one’s been tough. I know what kind of music I personally like, and I like music that would be described as Country music by literally anybody who heard it. It’s usually not a gray area, the things that I like personally, and that’s what brought me to where I am.

But also, all of the artists that I talk to across the board say that genre is a harmful concept to their careers. And so it’s deconstructing that concept, but also realizing too that the advocacy, everybody needs all of this stuff. It’s not just people in this space. So it’s like, “Where do I fit into that?” Regardless of how I feel about anything, there’s enough people in [all parts of] the industry telling Black people “No.” And so if a Black artist comes to me and wants to work with us, I really don’t give a shit what they sound like. The answer is gonna be “Yes.” I’m never gonna turn anybody away. Right now where I’ve kind of settled is anybody can come and play with us with any style, but the advocacy work that I do is going to focus on country music spaces and institutions, just because that’s where my passion is and that’s where I see the greatest need for it. I do acknowledge that there’s problems across the board. If you look at the work that the Black Music Action Coalition does, they’re doing it across all genres. 

I’m sure you get this too, Amy, where it’s like you want to work on the things that you care about and you like, but also once you have this level of responsibility, that really doesn’t matter anymore. It’s out the window. It should never be about what personal taste is. It should be about what’s best for the group at large.

ARJ: It was very confusing, I think, for folks to initially come to the site and realize that it wasn’t just Bluegrass. And our whole point was like, “This is pulling from the traditions of the genre that is called Bluegrass.” But that has taken on different incarnations and iterations over the years since it was established. I guess you could say, by the IBMA standards of 1945, you know, Bill Monroe. For a while it was about bucking people’s expectations when they would get to the site of what they thought they were gonna get versus what they were given on the website.

Then we made a very conscious shift to be called BGS. We still use the Bluegrass Situation. A lot of people still know us as that, but we have really made a conscious effort to switch over to BGS, in the long tradition of things like CBGB, or NME Magazine. After a while, it just becomes those letters. So that’s always been my hope, that it becomes more of an umbrella organization and that it’s not limited. I still lean on genre when I feel like it’s advantageous. Because at the end of the day, I’m not going to stop it from existing. It exists. It’s how certain people can identify what they want to listen to or how we search for a playlist, even. It’s just how things are organized, whether we like it or not.

So when I can be disruptive within those structures, I will utilize it. I know that I can make certain calls, or I can show up to certain conferences and I can make an impact within this community and I can have some kind of small change within this community. And that is what drives me, and that is when I’m willing to use genre, if it means that I can insert myself and continue to be a part of that and enact change.

HG: A lot of artists tell me that they feel like genre is weaponized against them. I feel like we have an opportunity to take that and then weaponize it back against the industry itself. Because it’s literally just a marketing tool, so you just have to figure out how to play the game so that it helps the artist more than it hurts him.

 

6 Times Tanya Tucker Showed Us What Pride Is All About

Posted on by Justin Hiltner

Just in time for Pride Month, singer-songwriter Tanya Tucker released her new album, Sweet Western Sound, with Fantasy Records, marking the Country Music Hall of Fame inductee’s 26th solo studio record. Tucker is an American country icon, having landed her first hit single in 1972 at the age of 13 with “Delta Dawn.”

Tucker has long supported the LGBTQ+ community and queer equality, and Sweet Western Sound hits many of the same notes. The record was produced by Shooter Jennings and Brandi Carlile, the openly lesbian, roots music singer-songwriter and producer who is the only woman to receive two Grammy nominations for Song of the Year in a single year. Tucker has also collab’ed with drag queen and TV legend RuPaul and performed for GLAAD and Nashville Pride.

To celebrate her inclusivity and the new record, we’re counting down some of her most memorable – and most fabulous – stage performances and duets.

Tanya at Nashville Pride 2022 

Is there anything better than rainbows, bedazzled tassels, and feathers? Absolutely not! And Tucker brought all three in her spectacular outfit at Nashville, Tennessee’s Pride celebration in 2022. Tucker sang “If It Don’t Come Easy” on stage during the celebration and was joined by multiple drag queens wearing rainbow tees emblazoned with “Tanya Mother Tucker.” Guests during her set included her dog and her daughter; the two sang Merle Haggard’s apropos “The Way I Am.”

Tanya Shows Some “Kindness”

Tucker’s latest album features a track called “Kindness,” a country-western crooner that encourages us to be a little nicer to those around us. “I found glory in the ruin of the best laid plans,” Tucker sings. “There were times tomorrow felt so far away. It seemed as though the bitterness was here to stay. I’ve pushed down on my anger through my tears.”

The tune is a good reminder we never know what someone else is going through, and that we could all be a little softer because of it.

Tanya and RuPaul Declare “This Is Our Country”

In a totally unexpected, but absolutely harmonious collab, Tucker and RuPaul teamed up in 2021 to release a duet called “This Is Our Country,” a genre-bending blend of country and pop that celebrates inclusion and equality.

“I can be a queen or I can be a cowboy,” RuPual sings.

“Love is the answer, love always wins,” Tanya adds.

The lyrics state firmly that our country is big enough for all its diverse communities and features more than a few of RuPaul’s rap bars. The video performance features some of Drag Race’s most popular queen and contestants, as well as a couple cute, shirtless cowboys.

Tanya In the Moment With “Bring My Flowers Now”

Co-written by Tucker and Carlile — as well as twins Tim and Phil Hanseroth — “Bring My Flowers Now” is a call to show our love and appreciation for friends and family before they’ve passed away. The tune is from her 2019 album While I’m Livin’, also produced by Carlile and Jennings. In the song, Tucker reminds us there are “rainbows, sunshine, and babies” to celebrate in this life, and that we shouldn’t wait until it’s too late. The simple, slow track features a piano instrumental and Tucker’s iconic vocals — perfect for a gentle moment with the ones we cherish most.

Tanya and Brandi Have “Breakfast In Birmingham”

If it’s a classic country duet you’re craving, Tucker and Carlile’s duet on the new album is just the ticket. “Breakfast In Birmingham” features both singers’ warm, soulful vocals and paints a picture of the city’s past with descriptions of hippies, cheap gas, and crispy-fried bacon. There’s also mention of “shutting down the rebel history,” a reminder that there’s a lot to celebrate and remember this Pride.

Tanya’s First Hit, “Delta Dawn”


This would be no list of Tanya Tucker’s best moments without reaching back to her roots. “Delta Dawn” was Tucker’s first hit, and this 2019 performance at The Troubadour features her famous key change as well as beautiful dobro and electric guitar licks.

Around the 2:40 mark, Tucker pauses her singing to let the audience fill in the words and they don’t miss a beat. This tune is always worth a listen and is one of Tucker’s best-known singles.

Whether you’re a fan old or new, Tucker’s got something for everyone — including a message of equality for all. There’s almost no better country singer ally to revisit during Pride Month.

Photo Credit: Derrek Kupish

10 Old Sweet Songs That Keep Ray Charles on Our Mind

Posted on by Editor

The musical and cultural impact of Ray Charles is extraordinary and spans the pantheon of American popular music. He was an outstanding multi-instrumentalist (though best known for piano and alto sax), vocalist, bandleader, songwriter and composer in the non-lyrical sense. His innovations include helping craft and popularize the secularization of gospel music, now otherwise known as soul, and bringing new attention and expanded audiences to country music, which was the earliest idiom he loved and played before blues, jazz, R&B, or soul.

Though his earliest material was heavily influenced by Charles Brown and Nat “King” Cole, Charles (full name Ray Charles Robinson) quickly developed a highly stylized, immediately recognizable singing and playing approach. He became an expressive, evocative vocalist, one of the finest interpretative singers of all time, and a skilled improviser as an instrumentalist, able to deliver intense and memorable melodic statements or energetic solos while heading either small combos or large bands.

Charles is remembered as a trailblazer on the music business side as well, signing a contract in the early ’60s that gave him creative control over his sessions, something that allowed him to record in genres that many felt Black artists should avoid. The extensive list of Ray Charles’ achievements include 18 Grammy Awards, the Kennedy Center Honors, the National Medal of Arts and the Polar Music Prize, as well as a Lifetime Grammy Achievement Award and 10 recordings inducted into the Grammy Hall of Fame. Among the 2021 inductees into the Country Music Hall of Fame, Ray Charles is finally earning his place in the Veterans Era category.

The Ray Charles Foundation released the new box set, True Genius – The Ultimate Ray Charles Collection (Tangerine), in September, roughly two weeks before what would be Charles’ 91st birthday. The six-disc, 90-song collection is unquestionably the most comprehensive sampler available of his music from 1960 until his passing in 2004. It combines vintage, familiar hits with many previously unissued gems, most notably a 1972 Stockholm concert that’s not available other than through purchase of the set. There’s also a wonderful coffee table book with rare photos and comprehensive liner notes from Ray Charles Foundation President Valerie Ervin and music journalist A. Scott Galloway. A special message from Quincy Jones concludes what’s obviously an essential collection for any serious music fan.

Here are our 10 choices for selections from the set, although if we chose these tomorrow we might easily pick another 10. Ironically, none are Charles compositions, though that wasn’t the intention, and we could certainly go back through and do a separate listing of Charles’ pieces. However I would argue none of those, even some that I’ve loved my entire life, top these 10 renditions of other songwriters’ works.

“Georgia On My Mind”

The official anthem of the Peach State, it was co-written by Stuart Gorrell and Hoagy Carmichael, and was Charles’ first post-Atlantic hit for ABC-Paramount in 1960. It also marked his first collaboration with Sid Feller, who not only produced and arranged, but conducted the recording. Besides being a huge hit, it earned Charles plenty of recognition outside R&B and soul circles while garnering four Grammy Awards.

“Hit The Road Jack”

Percy Mayfield had many immortal R&B hits, but not that many folks are aware he wrote “Hit The Road Jack.” Mayfield even sent it to Art Rupe as an a cappella demo, but Charles transformed it in much the same way Aretha Franklin did Otis Redding’s “Respect.” The song is spiced by the interaction of and exchanges with Margie Hendrix, and it soared to the top of the Billboard pop and R&B charts in 1961, though it had more staying power on the R&B side. It topped that chart for five weeks, and ultimately won a Grammy for Best Rhythm and Blues Recording.

“I Can’t Stop Loving You”

Don Gibson’s original recording from 1957 is tremendous, but Charles’ 1962 rendition introduced a host of listeners who weren’t regular country fans to the song’s lyrical and musical potency, It was also the tune that turned Modern Sounds in Country and Western Music into a powerhouse anthem. The song remained atop the Billboard pop charts for five weeks. When John Belushi did a straight-up masterful imitation of Charles’ singing that tune on Saturday Night Live years later, it cemented how much it resonated in the lives of ’60s music fans.

“You Don’t Know Me”

While Eddy Arnold did a wonderful version of Cindy Walker’s “You Don’t Know Me” in 1955, Charles enjoyed another huge crossover hit off the Modern Sounds LP in 1962. That one didn’t make it to the top as it peaked at No. 2. It also didn’t enjoy as much acclaim or praise, but it’s every bit as magnificent in terms of performance.

“Busted”

Harlan Howard saw his 1962 gem become a hit in two different, yet related styles. Johnny Cash had a country hit, then Ray Charles did a fabulous soul version that earned him the 1963 Grammy Award for Best Rhythm and Blues Recording. Interestingly, the Cash and Charles versions vocally aren’t that far apart, though the arrangements and overall performances reflect the different production approaches.

“Crying Time”

Buck Owens’ original was the B-side of his bigger single, “I’ve Got a Tiger by the Tail,” in 1964. The Ray Charles version two years later proved a much bigger hit, though not a pop chart smash in the manner of some past Charles country covers. It did earn a pair of Grammy awards, plus enjoyed Top 10 pop and R&B success. It was even a number one hit on, of all things, the Easy Listening chart. Charles would later join Barbra Streisand in a duet rendition on a 1973 TV special that wasn’t quite as memorable as the ’66 single.

“Let’s Go Get Stoned”

This song was recorded first by the Coasters in 1965, and later by Ronnie Milsap as the B-side to the single “Never Had It So Good” that same year. But the Charles version, powered by his dynamic lead vocals, soared to number one in 1966. The song actually had an ironic feel for Charles, who recorded it shortly after getting out of rehab, where he kicked a 16-year heroin addiction. This was among the earliest hits for the famed husband/wife songwriting and performing duo Nickolas Ashford and Valerie Simpson, joined on it by Josephine Armstead.

“Living for the City”

The very first album a young, fledgling artist named Stevie Wonder recorded was A Tribute to Uncle Ray in 1962. Some 13 years later, Charles would repay the honor with this glittering cover of Wonder’s valiant hit from the Innervisions album. Charles would eventually win another Grammy for his rendition, though this wasn’t as big a hit on the contemporary R&B side.

“Seven Spanish Angels”

This tune co-written by Troy Seals and Eddie Setser proved a big duet hit for Charles and longtime friend and chess partner Willie Nelson. The song featured Charles doing the first verse, first and second choruses, with Nelson singing the second verse and joining Charles on the outro. Interestingly, this became the biggest country hit Charles ever enjoyed in terms of chart position, as it spent one week at number one and remained on the charts for 12 weeks. It was initially released on Charles’ 1984 LP Friendship, and then again on Nelson’s 1985 compilation release, Half Nelson.

“I Can See Clearly Now”

This is famous more for when it was performed than the fact it was one of the few reggae tunes Ray Charles ever covered. The Johnny Nash original was the first reggae song to top the American charts in 1972, but Charles gave it new fame when he performed it as the musical guest on Saturday Night Live in 1977.

Photo Credit: Norman Seef

Connie Smith Carries a Classic Country Sound to “A Million and One” Video

Posted on by Editor

Grand Ole Opry member Connie Smith is offering a gift to country music purists and enthusiasts: a new album, The Cry of the Heart. It’s Smith’s third endeavor with her husband and producer Marty Stuart, whose acumen and prowess in country and roots music pairs well with the sovereign voice of this Country Music Hall of Fame inductee. Ahead of the album’s release, she released “A Million and One,” paired with a music video filmed in part at Ernest Tubb Record Shop in downtown Nashville. The video starts with a trip down memory lane and an immersion into the lore of that classic country sound as an old clip shows Ernest Tubb himself welcoming Connie Smith to the stage.

Before Smith even sings a note, a new stage is revealed including Marty Stuart’s Fabulous Superlatives dressed in country-chic turquoise and backing her up with a bed of dreamy steel guitar and hypnotic upright bass. When the strings come in, the reanimation of this rendition of Billy Walker’s 1966 classic country hit is complete, showcasing Smith’s timeless brand of country. Smith’s decorations span half a century of incredible music, work that has earned her accolades, awards, and a seat among the highest tier of country music artists. The Cry of the Heart is a celebration of the sound that shaped the genre and, in many ways, American culture. Truly a living legend, Smith says, “People ask me, ‘What is country music?’ I say, ‘To me, country music is the cry of the heart.’ We all have these experiences in our hearts and I’m trying to identify and communicate with people so they know they’re not alone.”

Photo credit: Alysse Gafkjen

LISTEN: Ray Stevens, “Ruby / Ruby Baby”

Posted on by Editor

Artist: Ray Stevens
Hometown: Clarkdale, Georgia
Song: “Ruby / Ruby Baby”
Album: Melancholy Fescue (High Class Bluegrass)
Release Date: March 26, 2021
Label: Curb Records

In Their Words: “I’ve been working in my recording studio for the last few years recording songs that I’ve heard all through my life. These new recordings are the ‘soundtrack of my life,’ so to speak. I had a great time making these records and I hope others will enjoy them too. … Taking classic hits like ‘Ruby’ and ‘Ruby Baby’ and putting them together in a different way is really fun for me. It shows that a great song holds on to its greatness no matter how you serve it up. Bluegrass-style takes some songs to another level of enjoyment. I love this process, and I think lots of other people probably like it too. I really hope so!” — Ray Stevens

Photo credit: Angela Talley

The Station Inn Earns an Exhibit at the Country Music Hall of Fame and Museum

Posted on by Editor

The humble appearance of the Station Inn could never give away the enormity of its legacy and importance to bluegrass music. Nestled between skyscrapers in an ever-growing city, a single story cinder-block building with its windows painted shut sticks out as a relic from the past — when the Urban Outfitters across the street used to be an empty field of waist-high grass.

For nearly 50 years “the World Famous” Station Inn has played a pivotal role in bluegrass as both a venue and community hub, drawing people to Nashville and making connections that had a major impact on the music. Through the rest of 2021, The Country Music Hall of Fame and Museum will honor and present the history and legacy of the venue in their exhibit The Station Inn: Bluegrass Beacon.

“The main reason that we wanted to do this exhibit is because the Station is such a vital and important part of not just Nashville music history, but of American music history,” says Peter Cooper, one of the curators of the new exhibit. The Station Inn has a larger-than-life reputation in the bluegrass community, but this new exhibit endeavors to highlight both the importance of the venue’s history and its welcoming atmosphere.

During the mid-1980s, adventurous singer-songwriter and musician Peter Rowan assembled all-star groups he dubbed “Crucial Country” for a series of shows that created a buzz amongst progressive roots music fans and players. In this photo, Rowan (right) is joined by Mark O’Connor on guitar and Sam Bush on mandolin. Photo: Charmaine Latham

It was founded in 1974 by a group of bluegrass musicians and singers — Bob and Ingrid Fowler, Marty and Charmaine Lanham, Jim Bornstein, and Red and Bird Lee Smith — who wanted to provide their fellow musicians and fans with a venue where they could play and hear bluegrass music. At that time the Station was more of a clubhouse where the owners functioned as the house band and guests would come up to jam. They moved to the current location in 1978; three years later, the club was bought by J.T. Gray, who at the time was driving Jimmy Martin’s tour bus.

Gray, who would go on to be inducted into the Bluegrass Hall of Fame in 2020 and was given a lifetime achievement award by the Southeast Regional Folk Alliance, began booking national touring acts to perform. It would be easy and accurate to show why the Inn is significant by pointing to the artists who have played there, including Bill Monroe, the Stanley Brothers, Vince Gill, Alison Krauss, and essentially any other important name in bluegrass. But the clubhouse atmosphere always remained. Countless (as in absolutely too many to count) threads of bluegrass history, both well-known and overlooked, can all be traced back to chance meetings at the Station Inn. J.T. Gray fostered a welcoming atmosphere that led to many locals and visitors from out of town to meet there, including mandolinist Mike Compton.

The venue’s sound-mixing console described by Gray as “the first piece of modern sound equipment we ever bought”

“I rode up [to Nashville] with Raymond Huffmaster, a bluegrass guy from Meridian, Mississippi, where I’m from, because I’d been hanging around him trying to learn how to play,” Compton says. They visited the bluegrass spots in town including the Station Inn, and Compton recalls after heading home, “Pat Enright got in touch with me and said they were starting a band and asked if I wanted to join. So I moved [to Nashville] in 1977 and moved in with J.T. Gray.”

Mike and Pat would continue playing together and later go on to form the legendary Nashville Bluegrass Band, which became a staple act at the Station Inn. A predecessor to that award-winning band was performing at the Station the first time future bluegrass star, Kathy Chiavola, came to town in 1979.

“When that door opened, the room was packed and I saw a vision of heaven,” she says, recalling that first night. “I heard these two voices, Alan [O’Bryant] and Pat [Enright], in their prime. And I lost it. I said, ‘OK. I’m moving here.’ There was a notice on the Station Inn bulletin board that a band of women playing bluegrass were looking for a roommate.” That band turned out to be the Bushwhackers, which featured bluegrass pioneers Susie Monick and Ginger Boatwright. Chiavola eventually joined the Bushwhackers playing bass and singing lead and harmony until Doug Dillard moved to Nashville. As the banjo player from the Dillards (who were famous for playing the Darlings on The Andy Griffith Show), Dillard put a band together and asked Ginger Boatwright to join, and about a year later asked Chiavola, too. Both the Bushwhackers and the Doug Dillard Band would frequently perform at the Station.

Vocalist, bones player, and madcap entertainer Ed Dye (far right) was a colorful presence at the Station Inn during the 1980s and early 90s. He assembled the Nashville Jug Band with a cast of stellar Nashville musicians from rock, jazz, and bluegrass backgrounds, and hosted wildly unpredictable shows. In this photo, he takes the stage with (from left): Sam Bush, Mark Schatz, Tim O’Brien, Alan O’Bryant, David Grier, and Jerry Douglas. Photo: Charmaine Lanham

Chiavola eventually moved into a duplex next to bluegrass bassist Mark Schatz. Together, they would often play the Station Inn with Charlie Cushman, Stuart Duncan, and Bobby Clark as part of a band called The Satellites. Other times, Chiavola would perform at the Inn with an ensemble called the Lucky Dogs which featured Jerry Douglas, Béla Fleck, Edgar Meyer (who had just moved to town), and sometimes Sam Bush or Mark O’Connor.

“It was beyond belief,” she says. “Sometimes I remember being on stage at the Station and listening to those guys play. I thought it was the most heavenly sound — I can’t even describe it to you. It was perfect music with so much feeling. You could hear a pin drop. It was so beautiful.”

Schatz, on the other hand, often performed at the Station with Mike Compton as part of John Hartford’s band. Hartford had moved back to Nashville to form a string band after a successful songwriting career in L.A. That California connection later landed him the contract to help with the music for the Coen Brothers’ massively successful O Brother, Where Art Thou? Compton’s 1927 Gibson A-Jr. model mandolin, which he played with the Nashville Bluegrass Band, in John Hartford’s string band, and on the O Brother soundtrack, is included in the new exhibit.

A cigar box used for many years to collect admission fees at the club entrance

Also on display is a small wooden box that was used to collect admission for years, along with some history about former Station Inn employee and local folk icon, Ann Soyars. “Ann embodied what the Station is about,” Cooper says. Soyars worked the door and was “small but fierce.” She was known to throw out rowdy college football players for being too loud, but also welcome regulars and newcomers alike. “Ann’s inclusion in the exhibit is indicative of what we’re trying to do, which is to help people understand not just the facts of the matter, but the spirit of the matter. The Station Inn is an example of musical community building in the most positive way. It’s like Cheers for ‘grassers.”

In addition, the exhibit features other artifacts from both the building and the musicians who have performed there including a fiddle played extensively by Tammy Rogers with the SteelDrivers, Mike Bub’s Kay M-1 double bass, which he played with many groups at The Station Inn — including Weary Hearts (Chris Jones, Butch Baldassari, Ron Block), the Del McCoury Band, and the Sidemen (Terry Eldridge, Jimmy Campbell, Ronnie McCoury, Gene Wooten, Ed Dye, Kristin Scott Benson, and Larry Perkins). Seats from a tour bus used by Lester Flatt, which serve as seating in the venue, are on view as well.

The Station Inn’s cash register

Generations of performers’ children have grown up in the Station’s green room and backstage and have gone on to perform on stage as adults. Newspaper has been put down on the bar to admire someone’s new puppies. Great care has been taken to lovingly craft the perfectly reheated pizza. Beers are shared by locals and honored guests after the doors are closed to the public. (And I have hidden fancy decaf coffee and a pour-over in the back that I take out when I visit.) To this day the Station Inn is a community gathering place where friendships, bands, and lifelong loves of bluegrass are formed. It embodies not only the authenticity of the music but of the community. And often, everyone knows your name.

Editor’s Notes: The Station Inn has endeavored to safely present live music throughout the pandemic. They have reopened to live audiences at a limited capacity and live stream performances through their web portal stationinntv.com.

The Country Music Hall of Fame and Museum will present The Station Inn: Bluegrass Beacon until January 2, 2022. The museum is currently open to the public at a limited capacity.

Photo of Station Inn and artifacts: Emma Delevante for the Country Music Hall of Fame and Museum
Other photos: Charmaine Lanham

Ricky Skaggs Reunites With Bill Monroe’s Mandolin for ‘BIG NIGHT’ Event

Posted on by Editor

On Wednesday, October 28, music fans had the chance to see and hear some of the most historic instruments in bluegrass played once again during an all-star fundraiser, BIG NIGHT (At the Museum). The Country Music Hall of Fame and Museum presented performances captured in the museum’s galleries and performance venues while the museum was closed, with select artists paired with instruments from the institution’s collection. The event debuted on the museum’s YouTube channel.

One such performance includes Alison Brown playing Earl Scruggs’s 1930 Gibson RB-Granada banjo, Ricky Skaggs playing Bill Monroe’s 1923 Gibson F-5 mandolin, and Marty Stuart playing Lester Flatt’s 1950 Martin D-28 guitar. Skaggs was elected to the Country Music Hall of Fame in 2018.

“I think it’s important to do anything we can to support the museum not as just members of the Hall of Fame, but as lovers of country music history,” Skaggs tells BGS. “I think it’s kind of our job to do that and it’s a privilege to know that my grandkids will be able to go there to see that history that we celebrated — and some of it I even got to be a part of. I’m thankful to be a part of it. It’s a wonderful thing.”

BIG NIGHT (At the Museum) generated support for the museum’s exhibitions, collections preservation, and educational programming. A closure of nearly six months due to COVID-19 caused significant loss of revenue for the museum, which was forced to cancel in-person educational events. During the BIG NIGHT program, viewers were encouraged to donate to the museum.

BGS spoke with Hall of Fame member Ricky Skaggs and museum CEO Kyle Young about the event.

BGS: Kyle, how have things been at the museum since the shutdown?

Young: We’re hanging in. We were closed for about six months. We opened back up September 10 under very limited capacity. As I look at the year, I think we will end up looking at lost revenue approaching thirty five million dollars, so it’s a matter of trying to navigate through and I’m hoping that we can stay open, even though it’s very limited.

Ricky, it’d be hard to imagine such an event without you there considering that you have such a deep connection to this music. What does it mean for you to get to play Mr. Monroe’s mandolin?

Skaggs: I can’t believe I’m getting to play it one more time. Every time I play it I’m sure it’s the last time, but then they’ll drag it out again and I’m always like, “Oh, God, thank you.” The first time I played it, I was 6 years old. So I didn’t really know that much about how priceless it was even then. And he wouldn’t just take it off and give it to you to play. He wasn’t that way, you know? Sometimes we’d shared a dressing room together. And he’d have the lid open in the case, but it would be pushed down in the case. I would always ask his permission if I could play it and he’d let me.

But, I didn’t play it that much when he was alive. I’ve played it so much more since he passed. There was a time before it went into the museum that the Opry House had it in a vault. There was a guy there that would let me play it, and two or three times a year, I’d go out and make sure that the bridge was OK and maybe I’d put new strings on it and stuff like that. But I played it quite a bit back then. When it went into the museum, I thought, “This is it.” You walk by and see it in the case and think, “Well, that ain’t ever coming out.” But I’ve been able to play it a few times and I’m always thankful.

It’s an amazing sounding instrument. And I made sure to mention, when I was inducted into the Hall of Fame, that Mr. Monroe did not create this music by himself. That instrument was his partner. That was his number one instrument from the time that he got it. He and that instrument created the sound of bluegrass. I mean, he was so creative after he got that instrument. If you think about the instrumentals that he wrote before when he had that F-9 with that short scale you can tell he was very limited. But when he got that 14 fret neck — goodness gracious! It gave him the room and the tone and the whole Loar experience to work with. It was meant to be. It was a heavenly meeting of two instruments: Monroe being one instrument and the mandolin being the other.

Listen to Ricky Skaggs on Toy Heart with Tom Power: APPLE MUSIC • STITCHER • SPOTIFY • MP3

That’s a beautiful sentiment and a good point about how inspiring that instrument was for him. That connection between instrument and musician existed with all of these instruments, so it’s going to be special to watch all of these performances. Were you all excited to get to perform a bit?

Skaggs: We were. None of us three — me, Marty or Alison — have had COVID, and we’ve certainly been pent up and cooped up. I recently did a video for Camping World with Steven Curtis Chapman, and after one of the faster instrumentals we played, I remember thinking, “Man, I have got COVID fingers,” you know? Kentucky Thunder hasn’t played a show since March 11 and that’s just crazy. So, it was a lot of fun to play with Marty and Alison. I think it’s going to be a really, really great show, and I hope it raises a lot of money for the Hall of Fame, because even though they’ve had to shut down, the building must be paid for every month like nothing happened. But, something has happened and that’s another example of how hard this virus has been on America in general, and which has been really, really unfortunate.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Y1j5JYpSfTc

I know that those instruments almost never leave their display cases so what were the circumstances that allowed the instruments to get played for this event?

Young: We knew that there were a lot of things we couldn’t do while we were closed, but we tried to focus on what we might be able to do under these circumstances and what opportunities there might be. I don’t know if you remember this or not, but very early on in the shutdown, the Shedd Aquarium let a couple of penguins out and let them walk around the aquarium and posted videos of them looking at the other exhibits. That got us to thinking about what we could do. We are a very active museum with lots of programming, but we realized with an empty museum, we can carefully take these instruments out of their cases.

So, the penguins were the germ of it, to tell you the truth. We wanted to do something that looked like us and felt like us. The backbone of the museum, as you know, is the collection — and the collection is unbelievable. The curatorial staff enjoyed carefully choosing which instrument they wanted to take out and allow to be played. From that point, we decided which artists made sense.

That’s so special because I know it’s such a rare thing. The only time I can remember something like it was when Ricky played Bill Monroe’s mandolin at the Medallion Ceremony back in 2018.

Young: That was very, very unusual. And after a lot of discussion, we thought that’d be a great thing to do with Ricky that afternoon. And likewise, this is something we never do. It is only because we were closed and able to really control the circumstances by which we were moving these instruments and carefully handling them and letting the artists play them. They’re behind glass for a reason. That’s the best way to protect them. And they are in an environment that is intensely controlled from temperature to humidity to light exposure and so on. But we did feel like under these circumstances, and only these circumstances, could we see our way clear to take them out for a little while and let them be played.

Photos courtesy of the Country Music Hall of Fame & Museum

This article was updated on November 12, 2020

First Generation: Meet the Bluegrass Music Hall of Fame’s Earliest Inductees

Posted on by Editor

Though it’s not that hard to find some who will argue the point, bluegrass is widely held to have originated when banjo phenom Earl Scruggs joined Grand Ole Opry star Bill Monroe’s band in early December, 1945. Bill Monroe and His Blue Grass Boys — the possessive wasn’t just there for show — were already among the anchors of the radio show’s cast, but contemporary accounts (and a handful of bootleg recordings) make clear that, to the ears of an almost instantly enraptured audience, Scruggs’ rapid-fire banjo playing elevated the group’s sound to a new level.

Almost instantly, groups sprang up — or reoriented themselves — in pursuit of the new sound, and although banjo players and fiddlers were the most obvious converts, the truth is that virtually all of the intricacies the band brought to their sound were soon emulated. By the time Scruggs and guitarist/lead singer Lester Flatt left the Blue Grass Boys at the beginning of 1948, the quintet’s live performances and a handful of recordings had already inspired some notable followers, who, out of artistic desire and commercial necessity, quickly busied themselves in developing their own distinctive takes on the sound of the “original bluegrass band.”

As we near the 75th anniversary of this foundational origin story, BGS will be looking back across the sweep of those years — and first up, of course, a clutch of true pioneers that share a common accomplishment: they are the acts honored by induction into the IBMA’s Hall of Fame in its first five years and their plaques proudly hang at the Bluegrass Music Hall of Fame & Museum in Owensboro, Kentucky.

Bill Monroe (inducted 1991)

A complex personality with a skill set that included equal measures of innovation and synthesis, the mandolin-playing Monroe (b. 1911) moved from a mid-1930s duo with his brother to assembling a hot string band during World War II to fronting that original bluegrass band — an achievement which earned him his “Father of Bluegrass” title. Though it’s easy to discern the elements he brought together in that music — old fiddle tunes; Scotch-Irish ballads; African-American blues, jazz and gospel; western swing and more — his creativity extended beyond simply stirring them together and kept him a central figure from its inception until his death in 1996.

Indeed, while his early classics are essential to the bluegrass canon, even his late-life instrumental compositions have enjoyed a growing influence among today’s hottest young players. In fact, he collected his first Grammy for 1988’s “Southern Flavor.” Monroe was inducted into the Country Music Hall of Fame in 1970, and as the composer of “Blue Moon of Kentucky,” he joined the Nashville Songwriters Hall of Fame in 1971, received a Lifetime Achievement Award from the Grammys in 1993, and entered the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame as an early influence in 1997.

Representative tracks: “Blue Yodel No. 4,” “I’m Going Back to Old Kentucky,” “Lord Protect My Soul,” “Midnight on the Stormy Deep,” “Southern Flavor”

Earl Scruggs (inducted 1991)

Though he wasn’t yet 22 years old when he joined Monroe’s band at the end of 1945, Earl Scruggs (b. 1924) was ready to step into the spotlight, and, with the exception of a stretch of ill health in the late 1980s and early ‘90s, he never relinquished it until his death in 2012. Unlike many instrumentalists who change their approach according to musical context, Scruggs believed that his picking style — built around right-hand patterns called “rolls” — could fit anywhere, and after his groundbreaking years with Monroe and then Lester Flatt, his career seemed devoted to proving the point.

Having created much of the musical vocabulary for bluegrass banjo picking, he moved on to playing with his sons in the Earl Scruggs Revue, a country-rock-bluegrass fusion band that was arguably more successful — at least in commercial terms — than Flatt & Scruggs had ever been. In the 21st century, Scruggs championed a broad variety of younger musicians while continuing to play those same sweet rolls he’d created as a young man. He was awarded a Lifetime Achievement Award from the Grammys in 2008.

Representative tracks: “Blue Ridge Cabin Home” (Flatt & Scruggs), “Foggy Mountain Chimes” (Flatt & Scruggs), “Travelin’ Prayer” (Earl Scruggs Revue), “The Engineers Don’t Wave From the Trains Anymore” (with Tom T. Hall), “The Angels” (with Melissa Etheridge)

Lester Flatt (inducted 1991)

With an expressive, emotive voice and an impressive array of demeanors that ranged from dry and sly to devout and down-home, rhythm guitarist Lester Flatt (b. 1914) was the perfect musical complement to Earl Scruggs, and their 1948-1969 output was at least as influential as Monroe’s. Flatt & Scruggs won a 1968 Grammy for their classic recording of “Foggy Mountain Breakdown.”

But where Scruggs was not only interested in playing with his sons, but also interested in putting his banjo into a wider range of contexts, Flatt preferred sticking to the country side of bluegrass. In the aftermath of their breakup, Flatt’s drawl deepened and slowed as he presided over a series of gifted lineups that included peers like Josh Graves and Vassar Clements, alongside young up-and-comers from banjoist Kenny Ingram to a teenaged Marty Stuart. Flatt & Scruggs were inducted into the Country Music Hall of Fame in 1985.

Representative tracks: “I’ll Never Love Another” (Flatt & Scruggs), “I’ll Go Stepping Too” (Flatt & Scruggs), “On My Mind” (Flatt & Scruggs), “You Are My Flower” (Flatt & Scruggs), “Gonna Have Myself a Ball”

The Stanley Brothers (inducted 1992)

The career of Ralph Stanley (b. 1927) and Carter Stanley (b.1925) illustrates both the profound impact that the original bluegrass band had on their peers, as well as the complementary artistic and commercial drives that impelled those successors to create their own unique style. In their first recordings, made while Flatt and Scruggs were still Blue Grass Boys, you can hear the Virginia-born Stanley brothers revamp their old-time string band approach into an approximation of the pioneers’ sound, yet within a matter of months, they had found a compelling variant.

The Stanley sound was built in part around Ralph’s stolid but driving banjo and soulful tenor singing, but even more around Carter’s mournful lead vocals and powerful songs. Over the years, while they moved from the Nashville-based Columbia and Mercury labels to scrappy (and multi-racial) Cincinnati indie, King, their sound became even more recognizable, as owner Syd Nathan hectored them into de-emphasizing the fiddle and leaning more into the innovative work of flatpicking lead guitarists like George Shuffler. The brothers’ partnership came to an end in late 1966 with the early, alcohol-related death of Carter; Ralph would continue on with his own twist on the Stanley Brothers’ sound until his death in 2016.

Representative tracks: “The Lonesome River,” “Our Last Goodbye,” “Let Me Walk, Lord, By Your Side,” “I’ll Just Go Away,” “Pig in a Pen”

Reno & Smiley (inducted 1992)

The first banjo player to follow Scruggs, albeit briefly, in the Blue Grass Boys, Don Reno (b. 1926) deliberately sought to create a distinct and instantly recognizable style of his own on the instrument. By the time his partnership with singer-guitarist Red Smiley (b. 1925) had settled into regular recording for King Records in the early 1950s, he had succeeded completely, and for good measure had done the same with flatpicked guitar solos, too. As Grand Ole Opry announcer Eddie Stubbs once put it, Reno & Smiley were a country band with a banjo instead of a steel guitar.

Though Reno could and sometimes would blister a banjo solo, many of the band’s signature numbers were heart songs, country shuffles, earnest gospel outings and more, including occasional flashes of rockabilly and jazz. Reno wrote many of them, sang tenor and occasional leads, and shared the instrumental limelight with their steady fiddler, Mack Magaha, and occasionally with one or another mandolin player, including his son, Ronnie. The partners split for a few years in the mid-‘60s, then reunited for a brief period before Smiley’s death in 1972. Reno continued to record and perform with partners ranging from Bill Harrell to his sons until he passed away in 1984.

Representative tracks: “I’m Using My Bible for a Roadmap,” “I Know You’re Married,” “Little Rock Getaway,” “Please Remember That I Love You,” “Just About Then”

Jim & Jesse (inducted 1993)

Though Jim McReynolds (b. 1927) and Jesse McReynolds (b. 1929) were born just a few dozen miles from the Stanley Brothers, the music of Jim & Jesse could hardly have been a more different kind of bluegrass. The duo’s singing was smooth and refined — especially guitarist Jim’s silvery tenor — while the instrumental sound was driven by Jesse’s innovative mandolin cross-picking and their overall approach by the latter’s eclectic tastes and influences (he appeared, for instance, on The Doors’ 1969 album, The Soft Parade).

The brothers were comfortable in reaching for a more countrified sound, helped by banjo players like Allen Shelton and Carl Jackson, who were adept at playing radio-friendly licks on a dobro-banjo as well as ‘grassier fare when that was called for. Smart businessmen as well, the duo were among the first to appear on television in the early 1950s, recorded an entire album of Chuck Berry songs in the mid-1960s, started their own label in the early 1970s, and remained a popular fixture on the Grand Ole Opry until Jim’s death on the last day of 2002. As of this writing, Jesse McReynolds continues to perform — and to innovate, too, with releases like a 2010 Songs of the Grateful Dead collection.

Representative tracks: “Pardon Me,” “Are You Missing Me,” “She Left Me Standing on the Mountain,” “Cotton Mill Man,” “Memphis”

Mac Wiseman (inducted 1993)

Nicknamed “The Voice With a Heart,” Virginia’s Mac Wiseman (b. 1925) was a founding member of Flatt & Scruggs’ Foggy Mountain Boys in 1948, but soon left to join Monroe (and Don Reno) in the Blue Grass Boys. By the early 1950s, he’d started his own career, recording for Gallatin, Tennessee’s Dot Records — and then going to work for the label. A consummate professional, he also served as a musicians’ union official for a time, and was a founding member of the Country Music Association. He frequently recorded material other than bluegrass, especially when rock ’n’ roll and the pop-country Nashville sound beckoned in the late 1950s and early 1960s, and throughout his career, he was never afraid to use a variety of instruments besides the archetypal bluegrass ones.

Still, as a performer, bluegrass was his bread and butter from the mid-1960s on, and rather than carry a band, he would recruit players from other acts (and occasionally skilled amateurs, too) and lead them on stage with a heavy guitar strum and a quick “watch me, boys!” Wiseman’s songbook included old folk numbers, songs he heard on the radio as a polio-stricken child, big band tunes, Music Row compositions and much more. In later years, he recorded several memorable projects that highlighted songs his mother had taught him and songs that told his life story, before his death in 2019.

Representative tracks: “I Still Write Your Name in the Sand,” “I Wonder How the Old Folks Are at Home,” “Mother Knows Best,” “My Little Home in Tennessee,” “’Tis Sweet to Be Remembered”

The Osborne Brothers (inducted 1994)

Bobby Osborne (b. 1931) and Sonny Osborne (b. 1937) were among the first of what might be called “semi-second generation” bluegrass artists; unlike those who preceded them in the Bluegrass Hall of Fame, neither had performed professionally before 1950. By 1954, though, they’d hooked up with Jimmy Martin for a memorable set of recordings, and 1956 found them signed on to MGM on their own. Together with singer-guitarist Red Allen, the Brothers — Bobby singing lead and playing mandolin, Sonny singing baritone and playing banjo — had come up with an inventive new vocal arrangement that put the spotlight pretty much on them alone.

Lest that sound too cold, it should be noted that they deserved it, for not only was Bobby a formidable lead singer and Sonny brilliant in the support role, but their fearless, try-anything (the two recorded separately with avant-garde jazz vibraphonist Gary Burton in the mid-’60s) instrumental skills were profoundly original. The Brothers joined the Grand Ole Opry and signed with Decca Records in 1964, and spent the next decade fusing bluegrass and country in a way that eventually earned them a CMA Vocal Group award. Irascible, opinionated, and both artistically and commercially successful, the Osborne Brothers were at the forefront of the music until Sonny’s 2005 retirement — and while Bobby continues to perform to this day, the influence of their duo continues to grow, too.

Representative tracks: “Once More,” “The Cuckoo Bird,” “Tennessee Hound Dog,” “Pathway of Teardrops,” “Sweethearts Again”

Jimmy Martin (inducted 1995)

East Tennessee native Jimmy Martin (b. 1927) hungered to perform with Bill Monroe as a youngster, then got his chance in 1949 when Mac Wiseman quit the Blue Grass Boys. As lead vocalist and guitarist, he helped to make some of Monroe’s most memorable recordings, then partnered in various settings with Bobby and Sonny Osborne before taking the helm of his Sunny Mountain Boys in the mid-1950s. A brash, colorful guy who could boast with the best and then back it up, Martin served in the cast of the Louisiana Hayride (alongside Elvis) and the Wheeling (W.V.) Jamboree before a growing bluegrass festival circuit threw him a lifeline in the absence of a Grand Ole Opry membership.

Among early Hall of Fame inductees, he may be considered more influential than most of his peers. Service in his Sunny Mountain Boys constituted the training ground for several generations of musicians, from banjo man J.D. Crowe to newgrass pioneer Alan Munde to Americana favorite Greg Garing — and his appearance on the Nitty Gritty Dirt Band’s Will the Circle Be Unbroken was legendary. Martin was an unstoppable force of nature who knew exactly what he wanted from a musician, yet was unable to clearly explain it. Still, he did well enough that his records are instantly recognizable, even when you’ve never heard them before.

Representative tracks: “That’s How I Can Count on You” (with the Osborne Brothers), “Rock Hearts,” “You Don’t Know My Mind,” “Tennessee,” “Freeborn Man”

Pictured above, first row (L to R): Bill Monroe, The Osborne Brothers, Mac Wiseman, Jim & Jesse; Second row: Reno & Smiley, The Stanley Brothers, Jimmy Martin, Flatt & Scruggs

Ricky Skaggs – Toy Heart: A Podcast About Bluegrass

Posted on by Chris Jacobs

Bluegrass legend and Country Music Hall of Famer Ricky Skaggs talks to TOY HEART host Tom Power about what it was like to grow up as a child prodigy, the real story of how he got pulled on stage by Bill Monroe, how meeting Keith Whitley changed his life forever — and the last time they ever spoke. Plus, a never before told story of how Bill Monroe thought Ricky would make a “fine Blue Grass Boy.”

Listen: APPLE MUSIC • STITCHER • SPOTIFY • MP3

It’s the story of Ricky Skaggs… but the one that you may not expect. Skaggs is a notable entry point to bluegrass for many listeners and fans — like our first guest, Del McCoury is as well. Though his story is familiar: From playing the Grand Ole Opry as a tot, joining Ralph Stanley’s Clinch Mountain Boys, and going on to perform and record with J.D. Crowe and the New South, to his own smashing success in mainstream country and eventual return to his now dynastic bluegrass career. Still, Tom Power displays Skaggs in a fresh light, with stories from and impressions of the icon that even veteran fans will find refreshing and illuminating.

Subscribe to TOY HEART: A Podcast About Bluegrass wherever you get your podcasts. New episodes drop every other Thursday through May.