Artist: Whitney Rose
Hometown: Prince Edward Island, Canada & Austin, Texas
Song: “Analog”
Album: South Texas Suite
Release Date: January 27, 2017
Label: Six Shooter/Thirty Tigers
Tag: Country Music
LISTEN: Sally & George, ‘Hey Wow’
Artist: Sally & George
Hometown: Nashville, TN
Song: “Hey Wow”
Album: Tip My Heart
Release Date: February 10, 2017
In Their Words: “‘Hey Wow’ is the first ‘from scratch’ co-write for Sally & George. The song was inspired by the classic duet styles of Johnny and June and Iris Dement and John Prine. We looked at each other and thought, ‘Wowee! Time flies when you’re in love.'” — Shelby Means
Dale & Ray, ‘Write Your Own Songs’
Digging up an old Willie Nelson tune is never a bad idea, but it’s particularly good when the ones doing the digging are a pair of classic Texas troubadours, Dale Watson and Ray Benson, on their new duets LP, Dale & Ray. Watson and Benson, though nearly legendary in their own Lone Star circles, aren’t exactly household names, but they’ve paved fruitful careers through numerous albums, tours (solo, for Watson, and with his band Asleep at the Wheel, for Benson) without ever adhering to the rules and regulations of Music Row. Though Dale & Ray includes eight originals, it’s this take on Nelson’s not-so-polite kiss-off to the Nashville suits who watch the dollars roll in without ever lifting a finger — or a guitar pick — that is especially appropriate for any musician (or person, actually) who feels like the fruits of their soul are transformed into fuel for someone else’s BMW.
“So just lay on your ass and get richer, or write your own songs,” they chant in steely, warm harmony to the record executives who can’t see the difference between artistry and income. It’s a struggle not just limited to famous singers: Whether you’re a cook on a line, a surgeon or, well, a music journalist, there’s always a point where it feels like what looks like an artistic soufflé, or a life-saving procedure, or a carefully wrought album review to us only translates as income for others. Watson and Benson have managed to balance these opposing forces well enough — but even Nelson, who wrote the song for his duets album with Waylon Jennings, wasn’t immune to greedy fingers. It’s a good reminder from those who haven’t sacrificed an inch to keep rolling to your own tune. And if that fails? Speak up, Willie-style.
BGS Class of 2016: Books
Yes, indeed, this was a great year for music (just check out our stacked 2016 albums list) and, luckily for all the bibliophiles out there, it was also a great year for music books. Because there's nothing better than reading a good book while your favorite music plays, we've rounded up a few of our favorite books from the past year. From Whisperin' Bill Anderson's life story to a memoir from the one and only Bruce Springsteen, there's something here for everyone.
Just Around Midnight: Rock and Roll and the Racial Imagination by Jack Hamilton
Slate writer and University of Virginia at Arlington professor Jack Hamilton tackles the complex relationship between race and rock 'n' roll in the 1960s in this new book. It's an essential addition to the rock 'n' roll history canon that covers new, much-needed ground.
Slim Harpo: Blues King Bee of Baton Rouge by Martin Hawkins
Slim Harpo forever altered the culture of Baton Rouge, Louisiana, with his own take on blues music. The only available biography about Harpo, this book preserves the legacy of one of the genre's most important artists.
Whisperin' Bill Anderson: An Unprecedented Life in Country Music by Bill Anderson and Peter Cooper
Whisperin' Bill Anderson is one of the most celebrated songwriters in country music, with hits for everyone from Ray Price to Eddy Arnold. In this autobiography — written in tandem with music writer Peter Cooper — Anderson offers a behind-the-scenes look at Music Row, his storied career, and the difficulties he faced as the music industry evolved.
Born to Run by Bruce Springsteen
An autobiography from the Boss … need we say more?
Anatomy of a Song: the Oral History of 45 Iconic Hits That Changed Rock, R&B, and Pop by Marc Myers
"Proud Mary," "Carey," "Mercedes Benz," and 42 other legendary songs get the oral history treatment in this anthology from Wall Street Journal columnist Marc Myers. It's a fascinating read for anyone, but should be especially so for anyone hoping to write the next classic song.
Photo credit: Abee5 via Foter.com / CC BY.
WATCH: Chris Stalcup, ‘Burnin’ Up These Highways’
Artist: Chris Stalcup
Hometown: Atlanta, GA
Song: "Burnin' Up These Highways"
Album: Downhearted Fools
Release Date: September 16, 2016
Label: DirtLeg Records
In Their Words: "'Burnin' Up These Highways' was written as a snapshot of my life at the time of writing and recording Downhearted Fools. For me, it captures the realities and fears of the life you leave behind when you're gone from home for extended periods of time. I was spending most of my days on the road driving from town to town, either with the band or solo. I had recently gone through a break up that had me questioning a lot of my decisions for putting so much effort into my time spent touring and making this record. This song was a very sobering look at all the things I thought I was doing right but, in hindsight, realizing I just wasn't doing a very good job at simply communicating. I realized that I would much rather communicate by writing songs than talking to (most) people these days. So I was writing a song about all the things I wanted to say but never did and how before you know it time slips away and you don't have the chance to say those things." — Chris Stalcup
Photo credit: Bret Falcon
Guy Clark, ‘Just to Watch Maria Dance’
This year, by so many accounts, was a terrible year. From the complete atrocities in Aleppo, to the never-ending police brutalities, to the election of Donald Trump, it's often felt like one disaster after another with no sign of stopping soon. In times of trouble, it's always helped to look to our idols for guidance — particularly in music, for me, at least — which is another way that 2016 was just so damn awful: So many of those very people passed away. Prince. David Bowie. Merle Haggard. Leonard Cohen. Phife Dawg. When the world starts to slide into the ocean like a sand castle that seemed so safe from its waves, these legends always present a certain sense of consistent solace and, once they started to disappear, it seemed like nothing, and no one, was safe.
It's impossible and irresponsible to rank the value of any one departed soul over another, but one of the losses I grieved the hardest was Guy Clark, who died in May. I was quite pregnant at the time with my second baby, and the onslaught of hormones left me staring at the computer screen in shock, tears joining with remnants of last night's mascara and forming trail-maps down my cheeks. Clark's words had always served not only as the basis of his beautiful music, but as something aspirational — even a journalist can take a lesson from the way his lyrics evoke a scene, the way he picked up on the smallest detail or nuance of human emotion. Should he have wanted to, he would have made a world-class reporter.
The last time I saw Clark, in the basement of his home for an interview, I was actually pregnant with my first child. I'd asked him before leaving if he had any advice to me as a new parent — if he knew how I could assure he'd grow up as curious about the world and the art it contains as he was. He said, simply, "Read him Dylan Thomas and play him Woody Guthrie." I took the advice to heart. A few years later, when my daughter was born three months after Clark's death, we named her Dylan. It just seemed a fitting thing to do, and a permanent reminder.
The amazing gift of such prolific minds as Clark's is that, even once they pass, there is often more music hiding in tapes and basements and hard drives, and such is the case with Guy Clark: The Best of the Dualtone Years, out in March. While most of the collection focuses on his work from the last decade of his life that had already made its way onto other records, there are a few unreleased treasures, too. One such song is "Just to Watch Maria Dance," written with Lady Goodman (aka Holly Gleason), included in a demo version. Clark was never one for artifice or studio polish, so his demos sound quite similar to anything mastered up — here, his vocals perhaps just a touch more ragged and the plucking perhaps a little more stiff, like a pair of his signature denim jeans just a hair short of worn-in.
"Empty threats and no regrets, it's time for moving on," he sings. The words are new, but the voice as familiar as ever, even though Clark has now moved on for good. This may have been a terrible year, but little treasures like this add glitter to the darkness, and true gifts, like a daughter who will never forget to read Dylan Thomas, make it still worth living.
STREAM: Michael Harlen, ‘The Big Country’
Artist: Michael Harlen
Hometown: Silver Springs, MD
Album: The Big Country
Release Date: December 16
Label: Dala Records
In Their Words: “The Big Country EP is my first solo effort after years of working in bands as a sideman around New York. In addition to writing the songs, I played almost all of the instruments on the recordings which, for me, was a great experience because usually no one lets me play the drums. The songs themselves are tunes I’ve written over the last year or so that I thought were good but not necessarily appropriate for the other projects I was working on. A pack of strays. Won’t you please take them in and give them a loving home on your stereo?" — Michael Harlen
Natalie Hemby, ‘This Town Still Talks About You’
It takes a certain kind of confidence to, as a songwriter, wait patiently while you use your powerful words to serve the storybooks of others — and a certain kind of humility, too. For years, Natalie Hemby's had her tracks cut by the likes of Blake Shelton, Miranda Lambert, and Kelly Clarkson, finding a niche as one of the town's most treasured sources of song, yet only discovered by those fans keen enough to read the liner notes. Of course, the more you know of her, it's actually quite easy to recognize a Hemby tune: the polite middle finger of Kacey Musgraves' "Good Ol' Boys Club," the catchy camp of Little Big Town's "Pontoon," the perfect swampy kiss-off of Lambert's "Baggage Claim." Her fingerprint is unmistakable, her pen so flexible that her visions are only limited by the creativity of whoever is around to interpret them.
For her solo debut, Puxico, Hemby chose not to use the opportunity to spell a confessional diary of her life or ride a show horse around the stable. Instead, she focused on the tiny town that gives its name to the title, where her grandfather, George Hemby, is from and where she spent much of her childhood. It's about the holes we leave behind in the shape of ourselves that never quite close up even when we drift farther and farther away — and how, in a world that at times feels crushing, there's always a place where we truly belong. "This Town Still Talks About You," which combines a pop-sensible beat with subtle country orchestrations, reminds us that moving on doesn't have to mean saying goodbye. What makes it unique is that Hemby decides to tell this story from the perspective not of the leaver, but of the left behind, full of vivid scenes and snapshots.
"You were so loved, you were one of our own, and it's never been the same, since you've been gone," she sings softly. We all want to believe that, if our high school walls could talk, they'd say the same thing about us.
LISTEN: Blake Rainey, ‘Go Find Yourself Another Barroom’
Artist: Blake Rainey & His Demons
Hometown: Atlanta, GA
Song: "Go Find Yourself Another Barroom"
Album: Helicopter Rose
Release Date: December 9
Label: Southern Lovers Recording Co.
In Their Words: "I have always been a fan of smoke- and booze-filled sad country songs like 'Dim Lights, Thick Smoke or 'Sunday Mornin' Comin' Down' or 'If Drinking Don't Kill Me (Her Memory Will),' which usually involve some kind of juke joint or honky-tonk dive bar where the down-and-out congregate. I've spent a whole lot of time in places like these throughout my life. The bar can be a second home for many and an actual home for many more. And, for bar folk, when life throws you a curve ball and sends you more troubles, the bar is the place you want to be — the place where you always go to try and forget things. Unless, of course, they are there to remind you.
"With 'Go Find Yourself Another Barroom,' I asked myself the question, 'If two barflies break up or get divorced, who gets the bar?' It's obviously going to be difficult to belly up and drink sitting next to the ex you now loathe. And not only do both parties have to emotionally move on, but someone has to physically break ties and move on, too. And, of course, everyone involved is too full of pride to think it doesn't have to be them. For me, it helps having been in relationships like this one in the past where too many drinks were had way too often and out comes the screaming match. It may take them a while, but I'm sure they'll work it out in the end as to who gets to stay and who has to leave. The constant reminder of failure and all the late-night heartache they used to make is going to be too much to handle. And there are always other bars to drink at and make new friends and enemies." — Blake Rainey
Photo Credit: Jeff Shipman
Kacey Musgraves, ‘Christmas Makes Me Cry’
Sure, music's supposed to be universal, but there's probably one genre, in particular, that I really have no right to love: Christmas songs. As a Jew, my holiday schedule usually involves Chinese food, not church visits. But, for as long as I can remember, I've always treasured those sonic odes to Rudolf like they were speaking to my own human experience, even if they really weren’t at all. Maybe for that reason, it was always the saddest holiday songs that rung the most true: because that sense of not properly belonging always felt more palpable during December, when no one exactly marketed menorah pajamas and "Secret Chanukah Present-Giver" didn't quite have the same ring to it as Secret Santa. It's all makes for a blue, blue Christmas indeed, with stockings on my feet, not the fireplace.
This year has been overloaded with Christmas albums of all shapes and sizes, perfect for my interloper ears and even better for a momentary escape from the impending political doom, but Kacey Musgraves' A Very Kacey Christmas is the only one to capture that special breed of holiday sadness on "Christmas Makes Me Cry." Written with Shane McAnally and Brandy Clark, it's a delicate, mournful ode to the bitter and sweet that so often exist where joy is supposed to reign. "And they always say, 'Have a happy holiday,'" Musgraves sings in one of her softest, most perfectly fragile vocal deliveries. "And every year, I sincerely try. Oh, but Christmas, it always makes me cry." It doesn't have to be but once a year: This is about anyone who feels sorrow in their heart, when they're supposed to be smiling. I suppose that's what makes it not just a Christmas record, but a country one, too — nothing is just red and green … or black and white. Because behind every jingle bell is a Jewish girl with a carton of takeout, just looking for a soft and snowy place to land and song to understand.
