Tag: Country

Andrew Sa Knows His Debut Album Is Yours, Too

Posted on by Justin Hiltner

Andrew Sa’s musical career can be traced by a series of loops. The California-born, Chicago-based singer-songwriter first fell in love with music as a small child, listening to classic rock and country stations with his father, a retired touring musician. A few years later, he’d transition from listener to performer at his mother’s karaoke bar, where he’d charm crowds with Patsy Cline covers.

His broadening musical interests would lead him away from country in his teenage years, something he also attributes to feeling out of place as a queer person in an outwardly conservative, queer-unfriendly genre. The musical community he encountered in Chicago, where he landed after a stint studying theater in college, challenged the notion that there was no place for Sa in country. Immersing himself in that community led Sa to meet another musician who would be pivotal in his life: singer-songwriter Patrick Haggerty, who performed as Lavender Country until his death in 2022.

Sa tells Good Country that it was Haggerty, in particular, who offered him a sense of permission to make country that encompassed both his queerness and his love of the genre. And that permission emboldened and inspired Sa, who released his debut full-length album, American Rough, via Bloodshot Records on June 26.

American Rough takes the hallmarks of great country – intimate storytelling, colorful characters, a reverence for the emotive possibilities of the voice – and makes it Sa’s own, thanks, in part, to producer H.C. McEntire, who imbued Sa’s songs with a timeless quality utilizing unfussy arrangements with subtly countrypolitan flourishes.

Below, Good Country catches up with Sa to chat about signing to Bloodshot, losing Patrick Haggerty, and finally releasing a long-awaited debut album.

You made a big announcement in March, sharing that you’d signed a record deal with Bloodshot Records. How did that come about, and what does it mean to you to be on the roster of such a storied label?

Andrew Sa: I had heard records from Bloodshot Records, like the Justin Townes Earle records and Neko Case records and the Sarah Shook & the Disarmers records, but I didn’t know about Bloodshot as a label until I met a good friend named Kelly Hogan. Kelly has been on Bloodshot and she’s a part of a couple of other Chicago bands, but she’s a dear friend. She’s currently backup singing for Mavis Staples on tour, but she’s like a Chicago/Atlanta legend locally. She sang backup for Neko for many years and sang on a bunch of her records.

When I met Kelly – gosh, maybe 2018, 2019 – she was the one who had started talking up Bloodshot Records to me. But it wasn’t until we began shopping the record for a little while that Bloodshot approached us. Bloodshot, over the last decade, they have been going through it, and so they have what we would call the “new” Bloodshot. They’re owned by an umbrella company called Exceleration that also owns Kill Rock Stars, Yep Roc, and a bunch of other independent labels.

We were chatting with the folks at New West, and that didn’t go where we wanted it to go, but one of the guys from New West – he was very supportive of the record – he said, “I’m going to send this over to my buddy Howard at Bloodshot.” So, it’s funny how it went around to come back to Bloodshot, because Bloodshot is in Chicago. And then it was just kismet, honestly. Once we started talking with Howard, it just seemed right on the money. Alt-country – let’s do it, you know?

It sounds like American Rough was many years in the making, and that some of these songs are older than others. Was there a moment when you realized you might have a record on your hands, or when everything clicked into place?

Other than two songs – one of the singles, “Under You,” which was written for me by my friend Liam Cazar and then the song “Gorgeous Things” – other than those two songs, all of the other songs were written for the record. I’ve been dreaming of having a debut record for a decade now, and maybe more, but when I was a beginning songwriter back in 2011/2012 I would write song after song and, between the two of us, none of them were very good. But I would compile the list and I would say, “This is going to be the record, and I’m going to title it this.”

So, to answer your question, I probably got all of that out of my system before this actual record happened. Most of the songs, as I said, were written during the window of time that we were working on the record, ever since I started chatting with our lead producer and one of my co-writers, H.C. McEntire of Durham, North Carolina. That would have been about 2020 and the record was finished in 2024. Then, we finally hooked up with Bloodshot in 2025. The characters across this album are within the last five, six years of my life, so yes, it is something that spanned quite a long period of time, but the record itself took a long time to make. We really took our time making it, so the songs themselves, while they are new to everyone else, they aren’t necessarily for me.

Yeah, I’m not sure the average music fan realizes how much time artists often spend sitting on their music and waiting on a release date. Given what you just described, what are you feeling in advance of finally getting to drop a proper debut project?

I feel like this is very surreal. For lack of a better expression, at the risk of sounding cliché, it’s certainly my dreams coming true. I’ve been so excited to get these songs in the ears of people, and especially these recordings. I had such a deep, fulfilling experience making all of this with my co-producers and all of the players on the record, and I’m just so excited to share it.

My excitement grows with every single that I’m releasing, because people – at least the people that are in my sphere – are really enjoying it. It’s also unnerving. I do find myself anxious at times, just because you do all of the work and then you put it out there, and then it’s not necessarily mine anymore. It’s everyone else’s, and it’s up to them to love on it or not. I didn’t think that it would take me so long to have a debut record, but I really think that I did it the right way, for me. I’m kind of a late bloomer of sorts and taking my time has always really served me. I hope that that is reflected in the work for other people when they hear it.

To me, there is definitely a positive side to being a late bloomer. You’ve accumulated life experience and wisdom, and I would assume you would also have a stronger, fuller sense of who you are and what you want to make. Does that resonate with you?

Yeah, I grew up as a music lover, and in high school I started doing theater as a way to express myself. I went to college for theater and, while I still was interested in music, all of the skills that I developed as an actor didn’t set me up as the person who writes the story; it set me up as someone who could interpret a story. The reason I bring this up is because it took a lot of time and a lot of work – and, I would say, even failed attempts – to develop my voice as a songwriter and to really figure out what it is that I want to say and how I want to say it.

Then, along with that, I was developing my vocal instrument and understanding what is the true voice that I want to share, as opposed to all the voices that I’ve played throughout my past. A lot of the education that I got in acting and the experience of acting really helps me as a performer. I know that to be true. It’s just taken a long time to develop my voice – both singing and as a songwriter – and my unique voice that wasn’t me playing a character.

A moment ago you mentioned the singles you released ahead of the record, and one of those is “Lavender Cowboy,” a tribute to the late, great Patrick Haggerty. Talk about someone who knew their own voice! I know that Patrick was a mentor to you and it sounds like he was an important figure in your life. I would love to hear about the writing of that song and also what comes to mind when you consider his legacy, both as an artist but also as someone who was important to you personally.

Are you familiar with his music? Did you ever get a chance to see him perform?

I did, and I actually got to interview him once, years ago. It’s one of the true highlights of the work I’ve been able to do over the years. It really meant a lot to me.

Then you know just how kind and present he was. Patrick has a vast, loud legacy of his activism, which was always so inspiring to me. However, Patrick and I seemed to connect over tenderness, for lack of a better word. Humbly, I’ll say one of the things I consider to be one of my superpowers is my ability to be tender, to convey tenderness, to encourage tenderness, especially at a time like now in the world. That was something that we certainly aligned on.

I didn’t have many supportive male figures in my life growing up, especially when it comes to my queerness and uniqueness in that way – and thus my voice, my perspective. Patrick would often say, “I am your stepping stone to lift you up.” He was always affirming me. I didn’t realize just how much I craved that and needed that from, especially, someone like him, of his age and his experience in life. We don’t have a lot of our gay elders because of a lot of things, but specifically the AIDS epidemic. I often felt very lucky that we still had Patrick for as long as we did, considering he was such a slut back in the day. [Laughs] Country music was hugely important to me until I was a teenager and then it was no longer necessarily cool to me, and I went in search of other things and found a lot of inspiration in many other genres and artists. But when I met Patrick – I was asked to open for him – witnessing him and his stage show gave me permission to return to country music.

“Lavender Cowboy” was the last song written for the record. I knew I wanted to write a song to remember Patrick. I imagine that the reason that I like writing elegies is because of my affinity in my teen years for Rufus Wainwright, because he does that so well. I’ve written a few now. I wrote a song called “Dark Phoenix” about my first boyfriend, my high school sweetheart, who’s no longer with us. I wrote a song, even, about the fictional character Jack Twist from Brokeback Mountain.

In any case, the idea is to keep these characters, these people, alive after they’re dead or gone. Every time I sing “Lavender Cowboy,” I’m able to talk about Patrick. He is alive and with us in the room, if only for that three-and-a-half minutes. I knew I wanted to write a song to keep his memory alive. I also knew that I wanted to write something that wasn’t just sad. I wanted to write something that people could hear and feel pride. I wanted them to feel lifted, and I think that H.C. and I accomplished that.

Just to be nerdy, I write a lot in 3/4 or 6/8, so I really wanted to write an up-tempo song in 4/4. I went to his celebration of life, which was out in Bremerton, Washington, and I brought my tenor guitar out there, because I was gonna have some downtime in my hotel. I wrote the first verse out there and then I wrote the pre-choruses back in Chicago at the Old Town School of Folk Music, then [H.C.] and I wrote the chorus together, right before the day before we were going to record it.

You shared how Patrick was able to show you that there is a place for you in country music, and I know you’ve had a lot of involvement with the Cosmic Country Showcase and the country scene in Chicago. How does that community factor into where you are now, on the cusp of releasing your record?

I am forever grateful to the Chicago music community, both the fans of Chicago local music but also very much so the players in the community. I don’t know what the cultures are like in other cities, but Chicago is such a supportive place. Even though we are always going to be competing for certain opportunities, we’re not competitive with each other.

I do need to mention that I got my start in Chicago by making my start, and it’s something that I would encourage more people to do if they can find the opportunities to do so. My friend Dylan Matracia – he lives in New York now and goes by Matracia – we met working in a restaurant in Boystown, Chicago, and we both wanted to break into the music community. We were both young songwriters, baby songwriters, so we decided to start our own queer music acoustic night in Boystown at a bar where we knew the owner. That ran for two-and-a-half-years, and it was called Second Date with Dylan and Andrew. The reason I bring that up is because it really gave me the confidence to go out and try to get other opportunities, and it also gave me a platform that people could come and witness me at my earliest stages. It’s really hard to imagine how you get your first step into anything … especially as a queer folk artist.

When I started doing the Cosmic Country Showcase, that was the same year that I first opened for Patrick, and my return to country music was the year that Cosmic Country started. I remember asking Sully Davis – who’s one of the organizers of that event and currently my manager – he was the one who was booking the Hideout at the time, who booked me to open for Patrick Haggerty. I’m actually forever grateful to Sully for so many things. I said, “Hey, I know you’re doing the Cosmic Country Showcase. I’d love to sing like a Reba song or a Wynonna song or something.” Within a couple of years, now I’m the host, or one of the hosts. I was really searching for a queer audience for so long, and it wasn’t until the Cosmic Country Showcase that I realized that my audience was broader than that. I’m so grateful to that community who comes out to Cosmic Country for giving me that, showing me that.

Speaking of engaging the live music community, you have a string of shows planned for this summer, like the release day show at Union Pool in Brooklyn and then a late June show at the Hideout in Chicago, which you just mentioned. What do you most look forward to as you anticipate these performances?

It’s likely obvious that, since I’m sharing these songs, I’m very proud of them, so that’s one of the reasons I’m really excited to play them. I think that they concisely capture who I am, and hopefully they are open enough for folks to see themselves in them and make them their own as well. That’s what I love to do with music. I’m very excited to play places that I’ve never played before, because the few short tours that I’ve been on, just the sheer experience of meeting new people in new places – and seeing that what I do works there, too – is one of the most fulfilling, life-affirming feelings.

I’m very excited to play New York, specifically, because I’ve always had a love for New York, but also a fear of New York. And I dreamed of having a physical record to sell for so long. I’m very excited about having it in my hands, to give to someone else, of course.

Photo Credit: Alexa Viscius

BGS 5+5: Sweet Undertow

Posted on by Justin Hiltner

Artist: Sweet Undertow
Hometown: Alphabet City, New York, New York
Latest Album: Days Without Names (releasing July 17, 2026)
Personal Nicknames (or rejected band names): Fast Eddy; Slow and Steady Eddy

What other art forms – literature, film, dance, painting, etc. – inform your music?

I read a lot – like a lot a lot. Language is such a strange thing: these agreed-upon movements of our mouths and these little scribbled symbols allow us to build civilizations. New York and Paris are built out of words way more than they are brick and steel.

And make no mistake, speech and the written word are the same thing as singing. When you order coffee or curse the guy who cut you off – you are singing. There’s melody and rhythm and all that in speech. So listening to some author build castles inside your head. It’s the same thing as song. Listen to Marx here: “You have nothing to lose but your chains.” Put it on a loop in your head, you’ll start to groove to the rhythm. The 4-on-the-floor beat marches like a dialectic. Or take Christ, “My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?” That’s music – you can imagine Kurt or Aretha or anyone else singing that line.

In fiction especially, narrative and voice and imagery and sound – it’s all there. You get to dig around inside of these lunatic genius minds all from the comfort of your own home for like 10 bucks a throw. And they don’t even really charge more for longer books – you can’t say no to that kind of bargain these days.

Read these and tell me I’m wrong:

One Hundred Years of Solitude
The Wind Up Bird Chronicle
2666
Infinite Jest
Blood Meridien
Never Let Me Go

What was the first moment that you knew you wanted to be a musician?

It;s tricky. The word “artist” suffers a great deal of abuse from global culture writ large and the music industry in particular – from Subway’s sandwich artists to most of the “artists” you hear on the radio. But for artists, you’re born an artist and it’s a matter of how quickly you can find your medium. It’s long been said that the most dangerous thing in the world is an artist without a medium, and for me it’s hard to say when I found mine. I sang in a punk band in high school, then stole a guitar at 19 and taught myself to play from Muddy Waters records. And I’d play gigs from time to time, but it just never occurred to me to be a musician.

This is the important thing – it never occurred to me to want to be anything. I didn’t think about things in those terms. The best way I can describe my thinking at the time is this: Every year was so totally different than the year before that even the thought of making a long-term plan sounded laughable. Hubris in the face of the capricious gods of time. But I never even really had the thought. Being anything just didn’t occur to me.

So I didn’t have money or stuff or a home, but I traveled the world. Lived in half a dozen countries. There was love, adventure, terror, sickness, laughter, lonesomeness. Damn near got eaten by alligators and, later, a leopard. I worked as a firefighter, a garbageman, a teacher, a student, an organizer, a newspaper reporter, a salesman, and a security guard. Mainly a rambler, Odysseus-ing around, but not trying to get anywhere exactly.

But I guess if there was a moment when I realized I was a musician it was in Singapore. I was playing tunes at this bar in Geylang and this pilot named Spinks came up to me after, grabbed my shoulders, and said, “Brother, you’re a musician.” And like a punch to the chest I realized he was right.

Genre is dead (long live genre!), but how would you describe the genres and styles your music inhabits?

Genre is 99% marketing speak – so it isn’t dead in as much as it has essentially nothing to do with music at all.

That said, Sweet Undertow makes country disco, outerspace Americana, hardcore folk, and babymakin’ rock ‘n’ roll.

What is a genre, album, artist, musician, or song that you adore that would surprise people?

People’s sense of surprise is their own business, so far be it from me to try and influence that, but here’s some fun facts:

When I get the blues (surprise surprise, I get the blues!) I put on the Rebirth Brass Band, Dr. John, the Meters, Curtis Mayfield, and Parliament. And while it doesn’t cure the blues, per se, it is definitely harder to be sad when you’re dancing.

And for the lightning round:

1) Marvin Gaye is maybe the greatest musical genius of the 20th century.
2) Django Reinhardt is the greatest guitarist player who ever lived.
3) Ella Fitzgerald is some kind of goddess who briefly took mortal form.
4) Standards by Tortoise – chef’s kiss.
5) My favorite band for a goodly while was Los Crudos.

If you didn’t work in music, what would you do instead?

If I couldn’t play music I’d jump off a goddamn bridge – it’s the only thing I like.

Photo Credit: Jessica Lee

It’s Time for Devon Gilfillian’s Country-Tinged Soul

Posted on by Justin Hiltner

Devon Gilfillian is one of the most accomplished rock and soul artists in Nashville who many roots music listeners still may not know about. A self-described melting pot of music, the Philadelphia native is deeply inspired by the too-often-unheralded impact of Black music in Nashville and its influences on country and rock ‘n’ roll. Gilfillian’s hero, Jimi Hendrix, expanded the genres – and Hendrix’s connections to Nashville aren’t lost on him.

The amiable, passionate Gilfillian released Time Will Tell, his third major-label album, on June 26. Largely recorded at historic RCA Studio A in Nashville, the new album is inspired in part by the eclectic soundtracks of Quentin Tarantino’s movies, the oft-sampled David Axelrod music of the 1960s, the Shaft soundtrack by Isaac Hayes, and Bobby Womack’s “Across 110th Street.”

On “Hold On (Hourglass),” the project’s first single, Gilfillian sings over a galloping beat, spaghetti western guitar, and a choir about the passage of time and the uncertainty ahead. “I like that kind of swaying, or that western sound that is coming from a kind of cinematic place,” Gilfillian said from his home in Nashville. “I wanted to mix that country-western sound into that cinematic kind of world.”

In that post-genre spirit, Gilfillian co-produced his new album with longtime drummer Jonathan Smalt. The duo had major-league assists from Neil H Pogue (Tyler, The Creator and OutKast, among others) who contributed to the mix, along with sound engineers Michael Harris and Reid Leslie.

“Time” is a gorgeous opener with a rich palette of piano and strings. “Time, all we have is time, to heal it,” Gilfillian softly sings. “Cry, I don’t wanna cry, but I gotta cry, to feel it.” He then goes full Hendrix on “Black Dog Rabbit Hole,” his hardest rocking song to date, with lots of fuzz guitar and considerable sonic depth and instrumentation. “Let’s Stop Fucking Around” is old-school soul with harmony background vocals, and the funk-pop of “IRL” makes you want to dance as Gilfillian proclaims that he wants something real.

Gilfillian’s major label debut, Black Hole Rainbow, landed in 2020 after the pandemic took hold. Thoughtful, upbeat, catchy rock and neo-soul with Gilfillian’s emphatic delivery, the album was produced by Shawn Everett, a GRAMMY winner who’d worked with Alabama Shakes on Sound and Color and with Kacey Musgraves on Golden Hour, among other projects. Then, Gilfillian released his own impressive version of Marvin Gaye’s classic album What’s Going On during the pandemic shutdown to “lift up the Black voices in Nashville” with guests like Jason Eskridge, Ruby Amanfu, Joy Oladokun, Kyshona, and Jasmine Cephas Jones from Hamilton.

On his 2023 follow-up album, Love You Anyway, Gilfillian leaned a tad more toward traditional R&B and hip-hop, delivering the single “All I Really Wanna Do” in a falsetto voice a la 1970s Curtis Mayfield. Another highlight was “Let the Water Flow,” a gospel-style ballad about the murder of Ahmaud Arbery in Georgia and the attempts to overturn the 2020 election results.

Gilfillian’s new album is more personal than political, and BGS spoke with him about it recently.

This album has a bigger sound than your others. Did working at Studio A have anything to do with that? What was it like working in that room?

Devon Gilfillian: It’s magic. It’s truly magic. I was literally there just today for another interview. Just getting to go there and be in that room [was cool] because it was a year ago this week that we were there making the album. We laid down all the rhythm, the drums, bass, guitar, keys, and some of the time I sang at RCA in the studio. Most of the vocals were [done] in post-production, but I wanted to really bake-in the chemistry of that room and the band onto tape. That’s the main reason why I wanted to go to RCA.

Your music is always a bit eclectic, but the new album’s ode to the American west, most notably on the first single, “Hold On (Hourglass),” seems to go further than before.

Truly. My friend and amigo Mr. Ran Jackson, who I wrote the song with and who helped produce it, we were rapping about that and he nailed it. I came in and he had this track, he had the guitar, the chord progressions like ding-dinga-ding-dinga-ding, and I was just like, “Oh shit, let’s go. Let’s take this world [we created] and use that.” And I just poured out what was happening in my emotional world, which was my relationship that was not working out. That’s how that song started.

Your style really is almost genre-less.

Jimi Hendrix is my like North Star, right? And Jimi, he’s all the fuck over the place. He was playing with Little Richard, playing with the Isley Brothers. You know, he was learning by listening to Elmore James and listening to the blues. Then he goes over to the U.K. and he’s playing with Mitch Mitchell and Noel Redding [in the Jimi Hendrix Experience], and they’re like these folky, psychedelic, rock cats. They’re mixing in folk and psychedelic rock and then the blues and R&B, you know like fucking Isley Brothers, and all these things coming together.

When I listen to Jimi, I hear all of it. I’m not scared to take little bits and pieces of what I love and combine it with other parts and other pieces of other genres and, you know, see if it makes something tasty.

Hendrix spent time in Nashville, as you know, and in Atlanta as a backing musician at the Royal Peacock Lounge, from where he hit the road with musicians like Little Richard on bus tours of shows in the South. It’s so interesting to see how he was influenced by playing in the South.

He was stationed in Clarksville, [Tennessee, in the Army] right, for a little bit? I remember when I was in high school, I was obsessed with Jimi. It was like, “How did he do it? I want to know everything.” But I didn’t really know how connected he was to Nashville ‘til I went to the Jefferson Street [Sound] Museum. He was coming here and really learning from these cats, learning from people playing the blues and country and all this stuff… in like this fucking popping-ass, thriving Black, R&B, blues scene.

You’ve been in Nashville now for about 11 years. Is this sound just part of your soaking up the music in your adopted hometown?

The reason I fell in love with country music was because of a specific album that was made at RCA Studio A, and that was Sturgill Simpson’s Metamodern Sounds in Country Music. Back in 2016, I had a residency at [Nashville venue] the Family Wash, and I was in love with this record of Sturgill’s that everybody loves. I was like, “Oh shit. Little Joe came in.” [Simpson’s guitarist, Laur Joamets.] He’s one of the best guitar players I’ve ever heard. He was like, “Hey, you’re pretty good. I like your band. I want to play with you.” So that was amazing. Little Joe started sitting in with us and played with us for so many gigs. That was how the buzz started building. It was so full circle that, you know, the inspiration [came from him].

I fell in love with Waylon [Jennings] because of Sturgill.

You had a lot of guest singers and friends from Nashville singing on What’s Going On. What approach did you take for the new album?

A lot of the crew that was on the What’s Going On album were the band on this album. Both my keyboard players, Josh Blaylock and Ryan Connors, and then also Nate Felty and Jon Smalt, of course, on drums. It’s all my people, you know. These are all my favorite musicians to make music with. We also pulled in Jordan Lehning, who’s an incredible string arranger, and he brought in Lockeland Strings and had them play on this album. That’s really the thing that injected so much beauty into this album. The strings are just so gorgeous.

Michael Harris, who engineered, he was our main tape operator [at Studio A]. He’s one of my favorites in this town or in the world. He’s a fucking genius, and he worked on Black Hole Rainbow. He was flying in from L.A. and I had him crash at my place while we made this album. I really did get to do it with all of my favorite people.

When we spoke in 2021, you were getting into activism. You donated the proceeds from your What’s Going On album to voting rights and other political groups. Where are you as an activist now? How much of it do you leave to your music?

I still use my voice to spread as much knowledge as I can about the shit that’s going on. For this album, I definitely wanted the music to just be a reflection of my life over the past two years, and of course, politics are always going to be part of that. These songs are just diary entries that I’ve picked from the past couple years. I just looked at the common thread between all these songs, and I was trying to make this relationship work. And it did end, but that’s OK, because there’s still love there and I’m grateful for that love.

Also, my dad had a heart attack [during the making of the album]. I had the realization that my parents are mortals. They can go at any minute, and you know, what are you going to do if that happens? You better fucking hold on to this life that you’ve been given, and to the people that are around you that you love, and you know, just be grateful for them and be as present as you can.

I understand this album is more personal, but have you had to adjust your messages at times to some extent, based on your live audiences? I know you’ve opened for mainstream country acts.

I’ve got to be conscious of where I’m at and the audience that I’m in front of. You know, I try to keep it as real as possible. Whatever’s on my heart, that kind of just comes out. But no, I definitely don’t feel like I can just speak freely anywhere, especially if it’s like in a “red” place, opening for an act that for sure has a pretty conservative fan base.

“Time” is a real stunner on the new album. Tell me about the arrangement, mainly with piano and strings, and how that song felt from the beginning.

It’s definitely about the end of my relationship. I wrote that song with Tabitha Meeks, an incredible piano player [and] singer-songwriter herself. She came over and we wrote one song, and then she started playing, basically “Time,” like the chord progression, and I sang, “Time, oh time,” and she’s like, “Wow, that’s so beautiful.” We didn’t have time to finish it, ironically, that day, but we were like we have to finish this song. A month later, we came back together… It was while my girlfriend at the time was living with me. She left the house and I was like, “Alright, let’s get this recorded.”

It must be a gift when it just comes to you like that.

I’m so grateful for how that one came. It really did just fall out, and it doesn’t happen that way all the time, right? I would say most of the time it does not. 100 to 99 percent of the time it does not happen that way.

“Glad to Be Here” seems to be about being present and was written after your father’s illness. You sing that it has “been such a long, long time since I’ve felt ease, letting my worries fall like leaves/ And I’m so glad, glad to be here.” Do that song and “Shines in You” come from a similar place?

“Glad to Be Here,” yeah, exactly. “Shines in You” is really about my ex-wife, and how that was the love part of it, you know. She is a beautiful person and there was a lot of love there and still is. There was a lot of love, but we couldn’t pour into each other the right way.

That and “Let’s Stop Fucking Around,” you know, they’re the ones that are like, I love you, I love you. Let’s do this, let’s make this happen. But then “Time” and especially “You Can Hate Me Now,” those are at the end of the relationship and the realization that it’s not going to work.

“Keep on Movin’” has some tight drums and horns. It’s still guitar-driven, but I hear the Neville Brothers, New Orleans, and Philadelphia soul in there.

There’s some Fela Kuti in there, you know, very Afrobeat, and my buddy [and co-writer] Ray Mason, my God. I tell you, he funked them horn lines up! He played in this band, Antibalas. I think they’re based kind of all over, but mostly New York. An incredible Afrobeat band. Antibalas was the band for the FELA! Broadway show. They did the whole Broadway thing.

We set up like a whole drum circle. Eric Slick was playing drums. He plays with [Philadelphia band] Dr. Dog and he’s a great artist. Our buddy Nate Felty, he was playing percussion and Jon Smalt was playing on a drum kit, as well. So, we have like two drum kits and percussion and other people playing some auxiliary stuff, all out in the big room [of Studio A]. We wanted it to feel like, you know, just like a party.

You work with some great talent. Who else was instrumental in helping you make this album?

Ran Jackson was absolutely such a huge force in this album, and he helped me produce “Hold On (Hourglass),” “Moonflower,” “Let’s Stop Fucking Around.” And Jon Smalt, I couldn’t have done this without him and his taste and drum sounds – and he’s a great producer himself. As far as arrangements of songs and knowing dynamics and all that stuff, he’s so good at that.

Michael Harris, who engineered, he’s incredible. We couldn’t have gotten the tape sounds that we got without him. Reid Leslie was our assistant engineer, but truly he was like the main cat in pre-production, during production at RCA, and post-production. We did post-production at Reid’s place. Those are, I feel like, the dream team. And then Neil Pogue, he mixed it, and I just love that man. That was cool to get to know him. Oh man, what a legend.

This album has some sad moments, but ultimately, it’s hopeful. With everything going on in your life and the world at large, what gives you hope?

I’m just a hopeless optimist, you know. I try to bring the good vibes. I’m always paying attention to everybody that’s in the room and making sure that everybody’s comfortable. But you know, hope just always ends up in there. If it is a sad song, I don’t want [the listener] to be left completely crushed. That’s just me. I really am grateful for that [optimism], because there are days that I get freakin’ depressed and smoke all the weed and just numb it all out and whatever. For the most part, I can wake up and smack myself in the face and go, “Wow, this life I have is fucking beautiful. I need to soak this shit in right now.”

Does the artistic community that you’re part of in Nashville help keep you going?

I feel like I stumbled upon like, a Laurel Canyon. The communities here in Nashville, my brain couldn’t have conceived how cool, how dope this city is in that way. How being a musician, you can have a normal life here in Nashville and have a beautiful community – and it’s just so convenient, too. It’s not L.A., New York, these big music cities. It’s hard to hang out with each other in those cities, because you’re an hour, you’re 45 minutes away, even though you’re three miles away.

Even with all the traffic [here], it’s not that hard. If you know what’s up, you can zigzag around. So, it’s the most convenient music city in this country. I think it’s the best music city in this country. You can put your team together, the business is here, and most people here, they leave their ego at the door. Because they know that everybody’s talented. It’s just about what you do that I don’t do.

Photo Credit: Travys Owen

The Other 22 Hours: Lukas Nelson

Posted on by Justin Hiltner

It is easy to look at a lifetime spent traveling on a tour bus in a famous family and assume someone’s creative path was completely clear. We sit down with GRAMMY-winning singer-songwriter and guitar player Lukas Nelson (A Star Is Born, Promise of the Real, Neil Young) for an incredibly honest conversation about moving past the shadow of his father Willie Nelson’s towering legacy, and detangling his identity from the cliched drug-induced creative culture.

LISTEN: APPLE • SPOTIFY • AMAZON • MP3

On this episode of the Other 22 Hours, we explore the distinct clarity that arrives with sobriety, the physiological realities of keeping your body moving on the road, and how treating musical discipline like Olympic training allowed Lukas to fully claim his own voice. It’s a masterclass in boundary setting, honoring the natural muse, and discovering that a long-term commitment to your health and your relationships is the ultimate engine for creative longevity.

In This Episode:

– Lukas Nelson
– Promise of the Real
– Willie Nelson
– Merle Haggard
– Lady Gaga
– Neil Young
– Paramount Theater
– The Red Clay Strays
– Outlive by Dr. Peter Attia
– Willie’s Remedy
– All Things Must Pass

Go Deeper: 

Watch: View this entire conversation above or on YouTube.
Explore: Find similar conversations in these themed playlists.
Connect: Join the conversation on Instagram.

The Other 22 Hours is hosted by Aaron Shafer-Haiss (producer, mixer, musician) and Michaela Anne (songwriter, artist, creative coach). More about Aaron’s work. More about Michaela Anne’s work.

Produced by Aaron Shafer-Haiss. Original music written, performed and produced by Aaron Shafer-Haiss.

Photo Credit: Matthew Berinato

LISTEN: Charlie Worsham, “Wrap My Porch Around”

Posted on by Justin Hiltner

Artist: Charlie Worsham
Hometown: Grenada, Mississippi
Song: “Wrap My Porch Around” featuring the Travelin’ McCourys
Album: Once Upon A Second Time Around
Release Date: July 3, 2026 (single); August 7, 2026 (album)

In Their Words: “I take any chance I can to emulate my heroes. With ‘Wrap My Porch Around,’ I wanted to honor both Vince Gill, in the way he cut two versions of ‘High Lonesome Sound’ and Dierks Bentley, who I would argue has done more to keep bluegrass relevant in modern country music than any other artist in the last 20 years. Not surprisingly, those two guys have been responsible for giving me a home stage from which to make music on the road these past five years. Also not surprisingly, besides my own shows, those are the two guys I last shared the stage with at the Station Inn.

“Working with the Travelin’ McCourys – recording at Vince’s house, no less – made the bluegrass version of ‘Porch’ extra sweet. Unless I’m mistaken, I think ‘Porch’ was the last thing Jason Carter played on with them before striking out on his own. For a liner-note, hillbilly history buff like me, it’s as cool to be associated with that milestone as it is to be in possession of Roy Acuff’s last tube of Poli-Grip (this is a fact… it was collected from his dressing room at the Opry after he passed, and gifted to me by a close friend).” – Charlie Worsham

Track Credits:
Alan Bartram – Bass, background vocals
Cody Kilby – Acoustic guitar
Jason Carter – Fiddle, background vocals
Ronnie McCoury – Mandolin
Rob McCoury – Banjo
Charlie Worsham – Vocals, acoustic guitar

Photo Credit: PJ Brown

The Gentle Genius of Don Williams Sees Daylight Again

Posted on by Justin Hiltner

It’s the age-old dream of the music fan: To unearth old recordings from a favorite artist, laid down in their prime and never heard. And with Epilogue: The Cellar Tapes from the late Don Williams, the dream is 100 percent real.

Capturing the famed Gentle Giant of country music at his creative zenith, 12 new tracks revive one of the format’s most soothing voices, nearly a decade after his passing. Inducted into both the Country Music Hall of Fame and the Grand Ole Opry, Williams’ soft-spoken manner underpinned 17 Number Ones between 1972 and 1992, with enduring hits like “Tulsa Time,” “I Believe in You,” and “Lord, I Hope This Day Is Good” showcasing his simple style. It’s been said that country music is three chords and the truth – but Don Williams could do it with two.

After his 2017 passing, Williams’ son Tim went down to the family’s cellar and came back with a treasure trove of tapes, recorded during his dad’s creative peak. Languishing in the dark for 40+ years, they were surprisingly complete. The younger Williams was stunned.

“I was like 12 or so when these things were cut,” he says.

He then turned to the work’s original producer, Garth Fundis, and together they’ve added a remarkable new chapter to a legendary story, which fully lives up to the Williams legacy. Like a window back to a different era, the icon’s tender vocal is in fine form, while a long-gone, patient production style recalls a time in country music when quiet wisdom was a selling point, and men could share feelings directly – no clever turn of phrase necessary.

Williams and Fundis spoke with Good Country about taking the project on, the memories it brought back, and how the Don Williams legacy stacks up in 2026.

I think this story is amazing. This is some really great music that I’m glad people will get to hear. But tell me off the top, why were these songs never released?

Garth Fundis: No particular reason other than when you’re making a record, sometimes you cut more songs than you need. … You might have a song or two songs that sound kind of similar and it might get pushed aside for something else. I think that was the case in most of these. They weren’t things we didn’t like, because there’s strings on some of the [original] stuff and percussion, and those were usually the last things we put on a record.

The intention was there to probably use them, but for one reason or another, something outshined a song we were considering. I remembered all these once I heard them again and remembered working on them, and it’s not like they were bad songs. They just got set aside and then we went on to the next project.

Tim, could you tell us how you became aware of the recordings? Were they stashed somewhere hard to find?

Tim Williams: No, not at all. We have a root cellar at our house that I live in now – the same house that I grew up in – and I knew [Don] had put some stuff down there. They were the big two-inch tapes, like 16-track tapes down there, and I just basically hadn’t thought anything else about them. And I didn’t think anything about them, until recently when my dad’s manager, Robert Pratt, wanted to see what was there. He wondered what was left – what we could transfer digitally, and just see if there was anything usable and viable to release.

Your dad passed away in 2017. What did it feel like to play the tapes that first time? Songs are an intimate thing and an artist has to be vulnerable to capture them.

TW: Well, when Robert was talking to me about doing this, I was pretty lukewarm about it, to be honest. Then we got the actual multi-track rendering and opened them up in Pro Tools, when I heard the vocal tracks, I just thought “That’s just so good.” It’s just right during his primo sweet spot of where his voice was during his career [high]. At that point I was pretty determined that we should carry it to fruition.

So you were a little bit skeptical. Is that because you didn’t want to put anything out that wasn’t up to your dad’s standards?

TW: Yeah, for sure.

GF: That’s where I came from, too. I was hesitant. But Tim said, “Come on out here and hear this stuff.” I remember the songs, I remember recording them with Don. But hearing that voice again, crystal clear and in his prime, it got me hooked. I said, “Yeah, I’m in.”

That’s what’s interesting here. I think when most people hear about a project like this, they might assume these were songs that didn’t quite make the grade. But that’s not the case at all.

GF: I hope you feel that way. That’s the way we feel about it. We think other people will think that, too.

Tim, you were so young when your dad was in his prime. Did this make you see him in a different light?

TW: Well, really it just reinforced what I thought. When you’re listening to the absolute raw audio and there’s nothing between the voice and the microphone and the board, and it’s just as raw as you can get, it proves how technically good a singer he was. It might’ve bolstered that thought.

Garth, you’ve mentioned a couple times now that you remembered cutting these original tracks back in the day. What was it like to start working on them again? Do you remember that first day?

GF: It was just like hearing an old friend again. And like Tim said, just to be able to pull that vocal up and listen to it all by itself without the band and the track and everything around it. … It was really fun to hear that familiar voice and hear just how good it was. To have worked with him and to hear the quality of his voice, the simplicity of how he sang – he didn’t shout, he just kind of framed the song. He always wanted the song to be the focus and not to get above it.

How much did you actually have to change from the original recordings?

TW: The stuff that survived, we used as they were. Garth doesn’t know this. I don’t guess I might’ve shared this with you, Garth. The only thing I had to move at all to get it to lock in, was “Leaving Louisiana [in the Broad Daylight].”

Really?

TW: Yeah, we had to replace so much on that track that I did wind up quantizing that one. The only thing that survived the transfer was Daddy’s vocal and Danny Flowers’ harmonica.

GF: When I first heard what Timmy had done to the track and how the guys had worked to replace a lot of those instruments, I wasn’t involved with that part yet. But I remember thinking, “Well, this isn’t anything like the original track we got. This is so much better.”

TW: But everything else, if the bass part, piano, or whatever survived the transfer and hadn’t deteriorated from sitting in a root cellar for 40 years, we used it.

Garth, you mentioned the simplicity of the way Don sang. It’s so nice to hear that today. Plus, heartfelt country songwriting that’s not trying to be too clever or edgy. Do you think it’s good for the genre to remember that?

GF: I think so. I applaud anyone’s success and good for them. But Don was not a person who needed to shout or sing so hard that he was trying to convince you of a performance, or convince you in any way that would help the song. He came from a folk music background. So he was accustomed to just being easy. Let the song shine through. And, that you cut good enough songs you don’t have to shout. Not only did he have a gentle manner, he had a gentle manner with the microphone and I was able to put the microphone right up next to his mouth. That’s why you get this intimate feeling when you’re hearing him sing – because he’s not shouting, he’s singing.

Which one of these is the most impactful song in your point of view?

TW: Well, there are two or three. I remembered when Daddy originally cut “I’m the One.” I loved it then and I was hoping that was going to be one of the songs that was on these tapes we found. I was thrilled about that. As far as what I like, just consistently enjoy going back and listening to? Because of Daddy’s vocal, it’s “How Can I Miss What I Never Had?” I just think of everything, if you wanted to play for an alien what Don Williams sounded like, I would play that one.

GF: I’d go along with Tim on “I’m the One.” Don’s feel, what he thinks about, how he feels about music, everything about it, is in that song. And fortunately, somehow Tim didn’t really hear the original version of “I’m the One” until I showed up one day with a tape copy of how it was originally recorded. I said, “Hey, have a listen to this.” And we liked both versions so much we just had to keep both of them on the album.

How did he feel about music? What do you mean by that?

GF: I would say he always felt so strongly about trusting the song. If you’ve got to go to the trouble finding something that you can sing, and feels like it belongs in your repertoire, that was the first thing he looked for when he was searching for songs that would feel like him. It had to feel like it’s something he could say and it had to have a good melody to it, and just don’t get above your raisin’. So just take it easy and frame the song.

I did want to ask you about “Leaving Louisiana in the Broad Daylight.” That song became a Number One for The Oak Ridge Boys just after Don recorded it. It was in that same era. So Garth, do you remember why he cut that?

GF: Well, we listened to that song a bunch before we cut it and when we finally started in on it. … We had redone the vocal, I know, because there’s rapid-fire lyrics. It took him a little while to get comfortable with it. It wasn’t necessarily his style, but we put a lot into that, working on that song and then not knowing that The Oak Ridge Boys were coming out with it as a single.

Is that right?

GF: We were working on it about the same time they were finishing it. Don was on the same record company and the same booking agent that worked with The Oak Ridge Boys, and somehow we missed knowing about that. So we kind of stepped aside and just put that one away for safekeeping. Now 30, 40 years later, I’m not thinking about The Oak Ridge Boys record. Congrats to them for the Number One record, but it kind of foiled our plans at one point. Tim and the musicians built a great new track for that song. [Co-writer] Rodney [Crowell] was really tickled when I played it for him. He said, “It was even better than my version.”

Do you think there are any more songs to unearth down in that cellar?

TW: Nope, that’s it.

When this project was announced you said Don would’ve been proud of it. What would he want listeners to take away?

GF: Don always was asked that question, “What do you want people to think about your music?” I often heard him say, “I want people to feel something.” So in the way he communicated a song to the listener’s ear, I think that was first priority for him.

Tim, how about you?

TW: Well, along those same lines, everything started and was sustained throughout the whole process by the song. If it was a good song, regardless of genre, the way it was approached or whatever, a good song delivered authentically was going to be appealing to people. These are just more examples of that, and I think he would expect people to be moved by a song delivered authentically.

Photo Credit: Jim McGuire

You Gotta Hear This: Ricky Skaggs, Cameron Knowler, and More

Posted on by Justin Hiltner

Our weekly roundup of new roots music is here, get into it! You Gotta Hear This…

To begin, Georgia-raised singer-songwriter Sam Burchfield releases “One More Setting Sun” today. You might find this track at the intersection of indie rock and Americana twang, replete with fuzzy guitars and a certainly summery vibe. Burchfield rightly describes “One More Setting Sun” to BGS as a “summer bop.” Staying in Georgia, you’ll also find yourself bopping to the latest from Americana/country duo Surrender Hill. Infused with a touch of Southern rock and including delicious B3 organ, “Not Alone” reflects on the ups and downs of life and how, despite ourselves, those ups and downs can often lead us directly to the right people we need in our lives. The hope in the track oozes out in its tempo and forward-leaning energy.

From bluegrass, country and string band legend, Ricky Skaggs unveils his first new music in over 10 years. “Say A Prayer” isn’t a straight-up-and-down bluegrass number; instead it pulls equally from country and rock, bluegrass and gospel. It’s built on the intense conviction and spirituality for which Skaggs is known, driving his band to the soaring climax of the song’s final chorus and impressing upon his listeners the message of hope and faith in the track. You’ll get another dose of tasty organ with that one! Another set of bluegrass legends, Lonesome River Band, keep us in a seasonal frame of mind with “Summertime,” a new song that’s nostalgic in the way it text paints images of Southern summers. Get a sampling of the twanging electric guitar picking along with one of the most beloved bluegrass lineups in the genre.

LRB’s labelmates, Unspoken Tradition, have released a brand new album today, Heartwood. To celebrate the occasion, we’re offering a sampling of “All the Gold in California,” a bluegrassified cover of the Gatlin Brothers classic that’s properly barn-burning and energetic. The entire LP is great – we’ve premiered more a few numbers from the collection over the weeks and months leading up to release day – and this up-tempo cover song is an excellent addition to the new album. Elsewhere in our roundup, guitarist, archivist, and multimedia artist Cameron Knowler is giving us a sneak peek and early listen of his next single, “El Centro (Cassette Demo),” which releases next week. “I am consistently surprised by how ‘final’ demos sound on these machines,” Knowler tells BGS via email. “Oftentimes, I get so emotionally attached to a preliminary performance that I’ll scrap the idea of taking a given song to the studio.” You’ll get attached to the cozy, artful, and lovely demo, too.

For a Celtic flair, fiddler Maura Shawn Scanlin has brought us a new track, “The Good Ship,” from her upcoming album Rule of Three. Set for release in late July, the project includes Scanlin alongside fabled guitarist/instrumentalist John Doyle and engineer/instrumentalist Duncan Wickel. “The Good Ship” is a set of tunes – a medley – featuring a Scanlin original, “The Good Ship,” followed by familiar Irish favorites “The Dusty Miller” and “Cucanandy.” Get ready to dance to this one, too – that’s what a “hop jig” is made for, isn’t it?

Bluegrass, country, folk, Celtic – there’s something for everyone below. You Gotta Hear This!

Sam Burchfield, “One More Setting Sun”

Artist: Sam Burchfield
Hometown: Blue Ridge Mountains, Georgia
Song: “One More Setting Sun”
Release Date: June 26, 2026
Label: Cloverdale Records

In Their Words: “We’re just little eternal beings trapped in bodies trying to love each other and navigate the cosmos. The world is beautiful, we are in it, and we are part of the beauty. I wanna love you forever – that’s what this song is. What else can I say? It’s a summer bop.” – Sam Burchfield

Cameron Knowler, “El Centro (Cassette Demo)”

Artist: Cameron Knowler
Hometown: Yuma, Arizona
Song: “El Centro (Cassette Demo)”
Release Date: July 3, 2026
Label: Castle Dome Records

In Their Words: “This is the newest track from my ongoing cassette demos series. These songs are either made on my Marantz single track field recorder or on one of my Tascam 4-track machines. ‘El Centro’ is one of those that was made on my 4-track, making use of electric guitar, electro-acoustic, and found objects for percussion. I am consistently surprised by how ‘final’ demos sound on these machines; oftentimes, I get so emotionally attached to a preliminary performance that I’ll scrap the idea of taking a given song to the studio. This is an example of that process in effect.” – Cameron Knowler

Video Credit: Cameron Knowler

Lonesome River Band, “Summertime”

Artist: Lonesome River Band
Hometown: Floyd, Virginia
Song: “Summertime”
Release Date: June 26, 2026
Label: Mountain Home Music Company

In Their Words: “‘Summertime’ was sent to us by our good friend Sherrill Blackman, who has pitched us so many great songs from different writers. It reminded me of my summers as a child and all the things I did growing up during my school vacations in my hometown and spending summers with my grandparents. We hope it brings back memories for our fans!” – Sammy Shelor

Track Credits:
Adam Miller – Mandolin, lead vocal
Sammy Shelor – Banjo, harmony vocal
Jesse Smathers – Acoustic guitar, harmony vocal
Mike Hartgrove – Fiddle
Kameron Keller –Upright bass
Rod Riley – Electric guitar

Maura Shawn Scanlin, “The Good Ship”

Artist: Maura Shawn Scanlin
Hometown: Boone, North Carolina
Song: “The Good Ship”
Album: Rule of Three
Release Date: June 25, 2026 (single); July 22, 2026 (album)

In Their Words: “‘The Good Ship’ is the second single out ahead of my new album Rule of Three, recorded during a rainy week last August in my West Asheville basement with John Doyle and Duncan Wickel. Duncan set up a DIY recording studio with baffles and quilts and all sorts of mics, and we sat down and played some music, tracking all together. It was fun to capture a pretty raw sound, blemishes and all – it was my intent to try to preserve the live feeling of playing music together in the same room. We hadn’t played as a trio all together prior to the session, so there was a spontaneous nature to the recordings that added some palpable energy to the music. ‘The Good Ship’ is a set of three tunes in the Irish style, one of my tunes called ‘The Good Ship’ followed by two traditional Irish tunes called ‘The Dusty Miller’ and ‘Cucanandy.’ I think of them as Hop Jigs, tunes that sit somewhere in the gray area between slip jigs and waltzes.” – Maura Shawn Scanlin

Track Credits:
Maura Shawn Scanlin – Fiddle
John Doyle – Bouzouki
Duncan Wickel – Cello

Ricky Skaggs, “Say A Prayer”

Artist: Ricky Skaggs
Hometown: Cordell, Kentucky
Song: “Say A Prayer”
Release Date: June 26, 2026
Label: Skaggs Family Records (distributed by Virgin Music Group)

In Their Own Words: “I’m incredibly excited to share my new single, ‘Say A Prayer.’ The song addresses a world carrying a lot of grief right now, serving as a universal call for everyone to stop and lean into faith. It’s got a chorus that resonates with faith, country, and rock audiences alike.” – Ricky Skaggs

Surrender Hill, “Not Alone”

Artist: Surrender Hill
Hometown: Ellijay, Georgia
Song: “Not Alone”
Release Date: July 10, 2026 (single); August 7, 2026 (album)
Label: Blue Betty Records

In Their Words: “This song sort of wrote itself; before I knew what it was about, it was done. It’s a reflection of my life and how through all the ups and downs I have somehow managed to hold onto faith that life would lead me to the right place and the right people. And, I think I found my people.” – Afton Seekins Salmon

“I had a pretty clear vision of the sound for this song. Having Dennis Parker in the studio was key. The mandolin and balance of his acoustic and mine was something I had floating around in my head. Matthew Von Doran did a fantastic job with the main solo. When he played that for me, I felt the immediate lift in the song and loved it. I had a hard time finding the right sound and feel for the electric guitar on the front end of the song, then I found a chorus sound that Nirvana used and that hit me right. That also felt appropriate as our son, Wren, has been listening to Nirvana nonstop for months. He even wants us to order him some Teen Spirit deodorant. Overall, the positive nature of this song is what made it a clear choice for the album and a single.” – Robin Dean Salmon

Track Credits:
Afton Seekins Salmon – Lead vocals, songwriter
Robin Dean Salmon – Bass, electric guitar, background vocals
Matt Crouse – Drums
Dennis Parker – Acoustic guitar, mandolin
Eric Fritsch – B3 organ
Matthew Von Doran – Lead guitar

Unspoken Tradition, “All the Gold in California”

Artist: Unspoken Tradition
Hometown: Western North Carolina
Song: “All The Gold In California”
Album: Heartwood
Release Date: June 26, 2026
Label: Mountain Home Music Company

In Their Words: “For me this is an interesting song because prior to recording this, I was not familiar with the original version. We all have our knowledge gaps – even within the things we’re passionate about – and Larry Gatlin fell in that gap for me.

“Jeff Collins, who produced the Heartwood album, suggested this song to the band as we were gathering material. We were looking for something up-tempo with a drive to it. The original version isn’t that, so this song was a great candidate for reimagining and putting our creative spin on it. It was a fun track to record. I’m so glad Jeff put this one in our minds, it turned out great.

“Even though it sounds like a fast-paced, trad-leaning song, ‘All the Gold in California’ bears a serious message worth heeding. To me, this song warns of being misled by money and fame. That world is heavily guarded, they don’t let just anybody in the club, so the idea of showing up and immediately making it big isn’t likely. So it’s best to stick to your identity, values, traditions, and work ethic to get where you want to be.” – Audie McGinnis

Track Credits:
Audie McGinnis – Acoustic guitar, lead vocal
Sav Sankaran – Upright bass, harmony vocal
Tim Gardner – Fiddle, harmony vocal
Ty Gilpin – Mandolin
Zane McGinnis – Banjo

Photo Credit: Ricky Skaggs courtesy of Skaggs Family Records; Cameron Knowler by Steven Perlin.

Midland Continue to Lead Country’s Vintage Revival

Posted on by Justin Hiltner

Ever since they injected vintage swagger and rhinestoned style back into the country mainstream with 2017’s “Drinkin’ Problem,” Midland’s Mark Wystrach (lead vocals), Cameron Duddy (bass/vocals), and Jess Carson (guitar/vocals) have been on a journey.

The GRAMMY-nominated trio have welcomed new stages of life alongside new physical stages, rising from roadside honky-tonks into the legendary clubs they still consider home, and on to the biggest venues in the world. Their climb mirrored their evolving country influences, which began with a love for the treble-and-twang sound of the 1960s and progressed on through the ’70s, ’80s, and beyond, helping lay a revivalist foundation for this current new generation of neo-traditionalist artists. Despite all these changes, they never lost sight of their own brotherhood – or their bar-band roots. Their new album Stages is the proof.

Working primarily with producer Trent Willmon for the first time (Jamie Moore also contributed), Stages finds Midland looking back to their road-dogging Texas beginnings, while bringing their throwback renaissance toward the rich tones of the ’90s era. As a former artist with a late-’90s/early-2000s Texas pedigree, Willmon knows that form well, and it fits Midland like a tailored Manuel suit. Over 10 new tracks, timeless barstool themes unfold under gentle, genuine twang and three-part harmony, taking the masters of modern retro to a new peak.

Good Country spoke with Jess Carson about the current stage of Midland’s story and where the classic-country resurgence may go next. We also touched on the band’s ideal venue, covering bluegrass tunes, and the best course of action when encountering a song written by Dean Dillon.

Midland has always struck me as being about more than just throwback nostalgia. There’s a theme and message behind your work, so what’s the title Stages mean to you?

Jess Carson: I think there’s definitely a part of it that is self-referential for us. I think it’s there in the title, it kind of references our own journey all the way back to The Sonic Ranch, which we ended up releasing later, but was the first time we got together– shoot, 12 years ago. It’s been a long road and journey and we’ve been through a lot of stages. And we’re also very much a road band, so there’s that play on words that’s so popular in country music.

Different physical stages too, right?

Yeah. Which is really where we’ve grown up. From playing in dive bars around the Austin, Hill Country area to … I mean, our last show was at [Arlington, Texas, stadium] Globe Life Field.

That’s amazing. There’s a lot of growth there. You guys have gone through a lot together.

We have, yeah. We’ve done a lot of growing up – but are still pretty immature, probably.

“Young at heart” is a better way to put it, maybe.

Well, part of being a musician is that Peter Pan thing. It’s hard to imagine Keith Richards on the phone trying to figure out some bank charge or something.

I’m interested in the physical stages idea, because your band has stayed really committed to and supportive of smaller stages [like the Palomino Club in LA, which Midland reopened for one night in 2019 to record a 2020 live album], even as you’ve leveled up to the biggest venues in the world. I just wonder why you love the small stages so much?

I think as a musician, you’re always going to love that. It’s the most intimate. It’s where you start out – for us and country music. The kind of dive bar honky-tonk thing is always going to be the most intimate and at least for us, it’s where things feel the most at home. These places around here [in Austin], The Broken Spoke and Gruene Hall, Luckenbach, and places like that. That’s where it feels like the music is at home and it’s the easiest place to catch a vibe. If you play at Global Life Field, for example, you can see the people right in front of you. But you can’t see the people way up in the upper deck.

Where did you want to take the sound this time? Over your career you’ve always blended Texas, Nashville, and California country influences very freely.

I don’t know. All of our albums are really a mix of what we’re listening to at the time, what we’re inspired by. For some reason I was reading this Tom Waits interview recently and he said that he’s in the salvage business. More than being a musician, he’s salvaging all these different bits of inspiration. I can identify with that. Going through the stages of our history and our catalog, I think in the beginning we were maybe inspired by stuff that was even older than where we are now. Maybe our stuff sounds more ’90s now than when we started, when there was a lot more, like, ’60s influence.

It’s just whatever place we’re in. I don’t know how thought out it is. I don’t know how thought out anything we have ever done is. [Laughs]

Maybe that’s the secret. How do you feel about where the country mainstream is right now? I would imagine you’re really enjoying this, because you have a lot of like-minded artists out there with you.

Yeah, I think we played a big part in opening the door for what’s going on right now.

Absolutely.

There was a handful of people. Cody Johnson is one that was really doing that sound in 2014 and is massive now, and Jon Pardi. And then I think we inspired a lot of acts. That’s a big part of our legacy. We were in that class of people who kicked the door down and got steel guitar on the radio again, or at least back on the radio during a time when the mainstream was really thriving. So yeah, I’d say more than ever since we’ve been doing it, it’s like classic country is having this moment. Like, that’s being valued now. You know what I mean?

Totally. I wonder though, do you feel like maybe it’s time for a second wave of this renaissance that you guys helped kick off? Now you can have steel guitar on the radio. Songs with a honky-tonk edge are taken seriously commercially. But could we go further? I mean, do we need some Eddy Arnold-style crooning?

Ooh, that’s a good question. I mean, I don’t know. The older stuff feels more difficult.

You’re saying it could go too far.

It’s like, the stuff that’s ’90s influenced right now, it feels very effortless. Who’s going to say they don’t love Alan Jackson or George Strait, Keith Whitley, Clint Black, Shania Twain?

The ’50s stuff, I love all of that. “Make the World Go Away” and all that kind of stuff, I love it. For whatever reason, it’s harder to make that not feel like cosplay. But, that would be super cool if there was somebody who felt like they came out of this time warp and it felt authentic, because that’s some of my favorite songwriting. Willie Nelson’s songwriting from back then. Tin-Pan-Alley-meets-Nashville/American-songbook type songwriting. It’s the coolest in my opinion. But I think maybe it is harder to do that and have it not feel like a shtick in 2026.

Tell me a little bit more about the album here. Was there a moment when Stages started coming into focus for you creatively, and when was that?

Well, we work on albums through the tour cycle. We don’t really take time off to work on the album, so they definitely have their own way that they take form over time. … This one was the way we’ve done the other albums, where we’ll go to Nashville and spend two days here or four days there. I think the first song we did was “Drunk Enough” and that was like – I don’t even know, over a year ago?

“Drunk Enough” almost felt like a follow-up to “Drinkin’ Problem.” Like, it’s a little farther on in the story. You’re still having fun in the “Drinkin’ Problem” time period, but then things progress and it gets a little sadder.

Well, actually I think “Drunk Enough” is, to me, as close as we probably can get to doing that old American-songbook type sound. With the chord changes and the melody, I think there’s a lot of that old inspiration. If there’s something that could be tied to Eddy Arnold, it would probably be that one from the album.

Can you tell me a little about where “Marlboro Man” is coming from? It seems like there’s a cost that comes to living the way you guys do. Have you felt that?

Definitely. We didn’t write that one, but when we heard it, it was like, “Yeah, we can identify with the aging cowboy.” Or just the guy that’s acknowledging the sacrifices and what it takes to get to this place. All three of us can certainly identify with that character.

It was really fun to go down to Southern Arizona and shoot that music video and also tap into the visuals, the images in that song and the cinematic quality of it, too. But yeah, that’s an old Dean Dillon song that he wrote a while ago. I don’t even know, maybe 10 years ago.

Well, his are all timeless immediately.

Yeah. If you can get an old Dean Dillon song, take it.

Another I want to ask you about is “Drinkin’ Dark Whiskey.” BGS [the parent outlet of Good Country] is a bluegrass outlet at its core, and I remember that song from the SteelDrivers back when [Chris] Stapleton and Mike Henderson were there. What made you want to record that and turn it into something new?

That was one the label sent over and they just felt like it would be great to get an uptempo [track] on [the album]. I think our albums, you want to hit these different cornerstones and especially to be able to integrate into the live set. We’re always going to want to have a “Mr. Lonely,” or we’ve been playing “Boot Scootin’ Boogie” in the set since we re-did that with Brooks & Dunn [for Reboot].

Certainly from the SteelDrivers and Gary Allan, the song had a life before us getting to it. But I think we’re able to put our own spin on it and we’re already playing that one live. It’s just a fun one in the set.

What about “Up In Texas.” You co-wrote this, and it features Clint Black. You mentioned some of the famous Texas dancehalls earlier in the chat here, and this song is kind of a tribute to all the cool things that make Texas what it is, right? Do you still have a lot of love for Texas?

Oh yeah. I’ve been here for, gosh, close to 20 years, and it’s where I’m going to stay. It’s where the band was formed. Mark’s in Colorado now. Cameron and I are still here in Texas. We’ve always been a Texas band. We never did move to Nashville. We probably would’ve gotten a lot farther if we had. But I very much see ourselves as a Texas honky-tonk band still. And there’s been so many songs written about Texas.

Totally.

It’s like that old saying, “How do you tell if somebody’s from Texas? Just wait 10 seconds and they’ll tell you.” People here are so proud of Texas. But you got to do it. The thing is, you can tell if it’s forced. You can tell if you’re pandering.

When we did “Up In Texas,” Josh Osborne came in with that line, “Out of 10, it’s 11/ I bet even in heaven/ They say ‘Up In Texas.’” That was one of those ones that when he said that, it gave me goosebumps. Lines like that don’t come along that often. I love that payoff so much.

Let me get your take on what you think is next. Not just for your band, but what’s next for your kind of music? For country that still feels rooted in the past, but also has a progressive soul. Life has changed for everybody and now you’ve got AI coming online. Where’s your music headed?

We’re hoping to get some AI robots that can just take over touring for us. [Laughs] We’re trying to build something in the garage right now. No, man, who can even say they know where this is all going to land with AI stuff?

I saw an Instagram post yesterday of this guy, it was a Bronc rider and it was a video of his ride, and somebody commented, “AI ain’t taking this guy’s job.” I think in music we hope that there will always be this kind of soul that you can’t replicate. … I don’t know that I have too much wisdom. We don’t have any interest in using [AI] for songwriting or anything like that. I think that’s pretty obvious. … I think we are purists in that way and the stuff that we love was done very organically, and we’re going to just continue to do what we do.

Photo Credit: Harper Smith

Ringo Starr and T Bone Burnett in Conversation

Posted on by Justin Hiltner

On a sunny day in late April, I stood outside an ad hoc interview room at the Sunset Marquis in West Hollywood waiting for my turn to speak to Ringo Starr.

Sporadic laughter boomed through the door as the hazy afternoon light danced on the doorknob hanger. Instead of the usual “Do Not Disturb,” this one simply said, “Peace.” The verbiage, apropos for Ringo, served as one part levity and one part beta-blocker as I prepared to speak to a Beatle.

When the door opened, I was surprised and delighted to come face to face with Phil Rosenthal (of Somebody Feed Phil). The unabashed smile on his face foreshadowed the similar joy I would feel taking the same steps through that door just 25 short minutes later.

And yet another revelation unfolded as I walked in the room to find both Mr. Starr and T Bone Burnett, producer of Ringo’s newest album, Long Long Road. The ensuing discussion covered their relationships with genre, synesthesia, and inevitably bobbed and weaved across the rich musical history of these two icons.

Do I get both of you today?

Ringo Starr: Yes!

Excellent!

T Bone Burnett: Only if you want.

RS: Hi. I’m Ringo.

Ha! Yes. The man of the hour. How are you?

RS: Good. Excellent.

Thank you so much for having me.

RS: Oh, it’s our pleasure.

TB: Her dad is a great songwriter, a great guitar player from Muscle Shoals.

RS: We were just talking to someone else about that today.

Really? You were talking about Muscle Shoals today?

RS: Well, we didn’t actually mention it, but we were talking about the music that, for me, started with Johnny Ray and people like that. I was a teenager, and then it went up to country music, and then I got into blues music, and then I got into pop of the day music.

I love country music. And he’s the country boy [as he points to T Bone Burnett].

That’s a fantastic segue to my first question. So as we mentioned, I grew up in Muscle Shoals, and I had this record player that was a little battery-operated blue Volkswagen bus. Do you remember these?

TB: Yeah, I do!

It would ride around the record, and it had a little speaker in it, and I would lay on the ground, and I’d listen to Abbey Road. But it was also around the same time that the video for “Act Naturally,” the duet with Buck Owens, came out. So, for me, you were very genre-fluid from a very early age. I’m curious about a couple of things genre-wise, and T Bone, please jump in on this too.

TB: Okay, I’ll jump in, and I’ll say that the Beatles probably invented what became known as “country rock.” You know, with “I Don’t Want to Spoil the Party.”

RS: And what were the two that were Carl Perkins?

TB: “Honey Don’t” and “Matchbox.”

RS: “Honey Don’t” was the best line I ever heard.

TB: Yeah, it is a killer title.

RS: “Matchbox” was a blues song, really.

TB: Well, “Matchbox” was an old Blind Lemon Jefferson song.

RS: Yes. The interesting thing is I did those in the ’60s, and we just found a Carl Perkins tune that we’d never heard, and we’ve done it on this record. “I Don’t See Me in Your Eyes Anymore.”

I love it.

RS: It is so beautiful and he was just a cool guy. You know, I was a teenager when I first heard him, and it was like, “Oh yeah!”

T Bone: Yeah, he was cool. He, [Carl], had heard “Matchbox” or his dad had heard it by Blind Lemon Jefferson, but they could only remember a few words of it, so he rewrote it as a rockabilly song.

So you knew of country music when you were growing up, you were aware of it.

RS: I did. I was aware of country music. I loved it because it was emotional, and I was a teenager. That’s what we are at that age.

[Ringo singing:] “ Well the wife is dead and I’m leaving home. I got no money for the jukebox.”

Perfect for teenagers.

When I say the words “country music” to you now, what do you think of? Who or what or how do you think of it?

RS: I still think a lot about the people from yesterday, who I came in with. You’ve got to say Willie. I mean, he’s magical and still out there. Thank you, Willie. And who used to open for Willie?

TB: Waylon?

RS: Waylon! He was great. I have to think back.

TB: Well Hank Williams…

RS: Well, no, Hank was where we came in. And Hank Snow. No one mentions him. He was Canadian. Patsy Cline. There’s too many really.

I was talking to someone the other week and they asked, “What is your all-time favorite record?” I couldn’t answer. There is too much that I love. “Who’s your favorite artist?” I start with Ray Charles. And Stevie, and down that line. But I can’t answer it. We were on TV, and I stopped it. I said, “I just can’t answer.” There are too many in my life to say, “That’s the one.”

Plead the 5th.

Do you ever feel constrained by genre? Or inspired by it? What is your relationship with the idea of it?

RS: I’m a pop-rock music drummer. I’ll play whatever you’re gonna give me. If you want it heavy, I’ll hit the cymbals. Heavy metal has some great acts going down. We would jam sometimes and be that.

TB: Oh, well, I mean, the Beatles invented heavy metal, really.

RS: Yeah. It’s just playing the same shit, but heavier.

TB: “Everybody’s Got Something to Hide Except Me and My Monkey” or “Helter Skelter.”

RS: “Helter Skelter” was a jam. We had no song, nothing, we were just jamming, and then Paul came in with, “Hey! Helter Skelter.” Like “Say It’s Your Birthday,” there was someone in the newspaper who we knew, and it was their birthday, and we were jamming. Paul stepped up again, and we got another song. We were like that. You could jump in, any one of us could jump in. I’ve got odd lines we aren’t gonna talk about on certain tracks.

[A publicist chimes in to say:] “T Bone you have five more minutes before you have to leave and then you’ll go and he’ll stay in.”

RS: And then I’ll go and then you’ll stay in. [Laughter]

Well, let’s go back to the Volkswagen.

RS: Let’s get back to it.

Because I have a little bit of synesthesia, I think.

TB: I have that, too.

RS: What have you got?

TB: I see colors when I hear music.

RS: Oh, great!

So, “Octopus’s Garden” was very purple for me. “Act Naturally” is very orangey gold. I’m curious if you’ve ever experienced anything like that. And if it’s not colors, if there are certain textures that you’re looking for in a song, when you’re casting songs for an album? And T Bone, this question’s for you too, since you have it.

RS: T Bone will give me a lot of songs, and I listen to them and I picked my six at the beginning. There were only three I didn’t use. That’s how we started this. In the end, we were talking in my little studio and I said to him, “How many songs have you got?” And he had nine. It gave me the courage to ask him if he would produce the record. All the songs were not on my mind; we were just hanging out like two guys. But it turned into a fellowship.

TB: Well, I can tell you that the Beatles stuff that first came out was very dark blue, all of it. “Don’t Bother Me” especially was the most dark blue of them. It was interesting that the album cover that first came out over here [in the U.S.] was dark blue. So it all sort of coalesced, I think.

That was one of those blessed moments that happen occasionally on earth, you know? Where everybody heard the same thing at the same time.

Absolutely.

RS: I never saw colors. I mean, I did see colors some days… You know what I mean?

[All laugh]

RS: When I listened, it’s how I felt. A sad song, a happy song, a rock song– some of it will move you, and some of it moved me.

TB: Well, I’d better go. But thank you, great to see you again.

Yeah, you too. Nice to see you again.

[As T Bone got up to leave, his wife entered the room and chatter ensued, but he added before walking out the door:]

TB: By the way, “I Want to Hold Your Hand” was very dark blue.

Well, you know, what’s funny is, I had a synesthesia question for Ringo about you, because I didn’t know you were going to be here. But I was going to say that your musical color and texture is exactly like what you are wearing, to me.

TB: Oh, is that right? That’s wild. Thank you! Nice to see you all.

RS: God Bless, peace and love!

Tell me about what it is like for you working in Nashville? Tell me what it feels like working with those players.

RS: I did have experience in the early ’70s when Pete Drake invited me to come, because we were working on a George Harrison record. You know, we keep talking about the steps we take, the moves we make. And I was there with George, and I’m playing for him and he’d called Pete – I didn’t know Pete. Pete had landed at Heathrow, and the car George was sending broke down, so we sent my car. And then he arrived. “Hey, hoss, I see you like country music.”

“Yeah, yeah, I do. How do you know?”

He said, “All those cassettes in your car.”

And then a few days later, he’s saying, “You should come to Nashville.” And I thought, “I’m not going to Nashville. I’m doing stuff here. I don’t have a month or six weeks to go to Nashville.” He said, “A month? Six weeks? Nashville Skyline took two days.” And I said, “I’m coming.” And I went, and we did the same thing.

On the first day, five songs were picked in the morning. Between us, we listened to them all. Five songs were recorded, and five songs were finished. And the next day, we picked five songs. Anyway, it went on the same way, and it was finished. And it took two days, so that was great.

Well, Ringo, you have one of the finest reputations in the music business.

RS: As a drummer or else?

EM: As a drummer, as a human.

RS: Or as a tall person?

The tallest around.

Just for being so kind to people and emanating peace and love, obviously. And you’ve been such a beacon of that for so many decades. Especially in the last couple of weeks I’ve been thinking a lot about that, after finding out that I was going to talk to you. I was curious, I’m sure it’s mostly innate, but do you ever feel like it’s a responsibility – in terms of how you are in the public, in terms of what songs you’re picking? I’m particularly thinking of “Choose Love.”

RS: I just do my best, you know, to pick the songs that give you some movement, and you say, “Oh, I’d like to sing that.” That’s what I’m with these two country songs with T Bone. I mean, I don’t really do it in a political way, that it says this or that. It’s usually peace and love. If I write it, it’s always peace and love – I don’t know what the question was.

Just wondering if it ever feels like a responsibility to you.

RS: You know, I’ve had many a good year, but some years I’ve made really bummer mistakes. It’s like that’s when your brain wins. I mean, even on this record, I’ve got the lines about “let the stuff come in, but let it go.” And I’ve been pretty good at that for a long time. Not that it’s every second of my life. Sometimes it gets in. And it stays in your thoughts. Then you’re in hell. I’m blessed that that doesn’t happen half as much anymore. I can just dump the thought that comes in and deal with whatever it is.

I was going to ask you about that line in particular, because I think it does this beautiful job of talking about a meditative quality of finding peace without being preachy or telling people “how to” and I really love that.

RS: I meditated this morning. I meditate every morning, this time since ‘92. You know, we went to the Maharishi in India with the boys. And I was worried, you know, “Am I doing it properly?” I was talking to him [Maharishi] and he says, “Ringo, even if you fall asleep, you must have been tired.”

And it taught me a great lesson. I was into like, madness and stuff, you know, “It must be this. It must be me. What’s the problem?” And now I get quite calm.

That’s wonderful. Yeah. It comes across on this album. You’re talking about your own experience and that’s–

RS: What else can I talk about? I can’t talk about yours, you know? But thank you.

Tell me about the band that played on this record.

RS: T Bone’s whole band is great. The rest of Nashville is so great. They all came out to help me. To be there. It is in my heart.

Last January, when I was there and back three times. And every time when I’ve played at the Ryman… I’ve been playing there for the last 15 years with the All Stars, but when I go on that stage, I feel all the guys and all the gals who stood on that stage.

And then what happens? The Grand Ole Opry invited me to do three songs. And I go on that stage that has the Ryman circle that the singers stand on. It is magical. For me, coming from England, it was really magical to get on that stage. And the people are great. It is built for music coming out and hitting everybody, because it was a gospel church. I’m still moved. I get on the stage, and I have to go through a minute of, “Wow, wow!”

Photo Credit: Dan Winters

10 of the Best Jo Dee Messina Songs

Posted on by Justin Hiltner

It’s been a minute since Jo Dee Messina graced us all with an album of new material.

The flame-haired singer from Framingham, Massachusetts, made an immediate splash on the country music scene with her self-titled 1996 debut. Her 1998 sophomore set, I’m Alright, was even more successful. Messina became the first female country artist to have three multiple-week, chart-topping singles from the same album. Burn, which arrived in 2000, was also a smash, delivering the popular title track and the Tim McGraw collaboration, “Bring on the Rain.”

Admittedly, Messina has been less prolific over the past 25 years or so. Her fourth studio outing, Delicious Surprise, came out in 2005. Record company challenges preceded the release of Unmistakable, which was supposed to be her next album; instead, it wound up being a series of three EPs. Her next proper studio album, which was simply called Me, did not appear until 2014.

Messina returned on June 5 with her long-awaited sixth album, Bridges, released through her own label. She has weathered a number of personal and professional ups and downs in the dozen years between the new album and Me – and some of that is reflected in the lyrics of her new songs. Bridges is Messina’s most personal disc to date, and she wrote (or cowrote) all but one of its 11 songs herself.

To coincide with the release of Bridges, and to celebrate her being our Artist of the Month, we’ve gathered 10 of Jo Dee Messina’s best songs – from her debut to the present.

“Some Bridges” (2026)

The track that inspired the title of her new album, “Some Bridges” is a slow-building statement of purpose and offers hard-won perspective. “Some bridges are meant to build,” sings Messina. “But some bridges are meant to burn.”

“Message In A Bottle” (2026)

Also from Bridges, “Message In A Bottle” is pretty catchy for a song about alcoholism. “Feeling 10 feet tall on 80 proof/ But the midnight lies, ain’t it the truth?” she sings. And you know she’s singing from experience.

“Don’t Let Them Hide Your Beautiful” (2026)

The centerpiece of her new album, “Don’t Let Them Hide Your Beautiful” is a moving, midtempo ode to being yourself. It’s a common theme across Messina’s entire career and discography.

“A Woman’s Rant” (2014)

The underrated “A Woman’s Rant” appeared on Me, Messina’s first studio album after a lengthy break. It pairs an old-time, bluegrass sound with a more modern, feminist lyric. To wit: “Husband, kids, work all day, I got PMS and PTA/ Find the thing my kid can’t find, I need a drink but there’s no time.”

“Bring On the Rain” (2000)

“Bring On the Rain,” a contemplative duet with Tim McGraw, is from Messina’s third album, Burn. It’s a true modern classic, having peaked at No. 1 on the Billboard Hot Country Songs chart, been certified Gold, and garnering tens of millions of streams. McGraw also co-produced the GRAMMY-nominated vocal event with Byron Gallimore.

“Downtime” (2000)

Another one from Burn – and a good song to listen to in the aftermath of a breakup. “I’ve been down this road a time or two/ I’ll get on my feet and over you,” Messina sings over electric guitars. “I’m just goin’ through a little downtime.”

“Because You Love Me” (1998)

From Messina’s sophomore set I’m Alright, “Because You Love Me” is a song about a love that stood the test of time. It proved that Messina could also pull off ballads. The double-platinum success of I’m Alright also helped Messina collect the 1999 CMA Horizon Award.

“Bye Bye” (1998)

The ridiculously catchy “Bye Bye,” also from I’m Alright and written by Phil Vassar and Rory Michael Bourke, scored Messina another big hit. A rollicking kiss-off to a former guy who is noncommittal, it finds her singing “Bye-bye, love, I’ll catch you later/ Got a lead foot down on my accelerator…” And suddenly we’re all singing along!

“You’re Not in Kansas Anymore” (1996)

The opening song from her debut LP, “You’re Not in Kansas Anymore” is another upbeat tune about a guy who left the Midwest for the Hollywood lights. It contains the great opening line, “He said, ‘I grew up in Wichita, in a Mayberry kind of town.’”

“Heads Carolina, Tails California” (1996)

Messina’s first single, from her self-titled debut. This upbeat jam about hitting the road reached the Top 10 on both the U.S. and Canada country charts. A definite fan favorite, it’s also the title of a 2023 greatest hits collection. Certified platinum, it’s easily landed in the 200 million-plus streams category – it’s such an iconic song, it’s birthed other country songs that reference it. Namely Cole Swindell’s 2022 track, “She Had Me at Heads Carolina.”

Explore more of our Artist of the Month content on Jo Dee Messina here.

Photo Credit: Madison Sharp