The Story of Years, John Anderson’s Final Album

Editor’s Note: Country Music Hall of Fame member John Anderson died at his home in Smithville, Tennessee, on October 21, 2026. He was 71. In 2020, BGS interviewed Anderson about what would become his final album, Years. A tribute album in 2022 featured Sierra Ferrell’s interpretation of the poignant title track.)

Over the past few years, country crooner John Anderson’s inimitable voice escaped him after suffering health issues and brushes with death. Through the creation of his new album, Years, he found it again.

In the album’s opening song, he opines, “There were people placing bets that I’d be dead and gone/But I’m still hanging on.” Although he does not disclose details, he does concede that the illness affected his hearing and, in his words, “I had nearly died a couple of times.” Listening through the album produced by Dan Auerbach and David Ferguson, it is clear that now Anderson is doing more than just hanging on; he’s creatively thriving. He tells BGS what it was like getting back in the studio, how he’s spending his time amidst the pandemic, and his feelings about making music these days.

BGS: Tell me a little bit about how Dan Auerbach came into your life.

Anderson: Actually we were introduced through a mutual friend by the name of Jeremy Tepper. He does a lot of work for Sirius/XM Radio. We’ve been friends a long time and he called me one morning and said, “I was with this guy the other day and we were talking about you and I would really like you to get together.” I said, “Well sure, I’m really not doing much these days.”

He asked if he could give Dan my number and I said, “By all means, give it to him!” The next day or so I got a call from Dan and we ended up setting up a meeting to get together and talk. Originally mainly just to talk about writing some songs together. At the time he was busy producing some other acts. I thought they might need some material and I thought I might help them write some.

What was your writing process like for this record? I’ve read you had some surprise co-creators on this one. What was that like?

We did. It was great. Looking back, I have to thank Dan and Dave Ferguson (aka Fergie). They were both involved in setting up the writing appointments. As it turned out, I got to write not only with some heroes, but some great old friends. It was really a joy. Writing these songs was a real pleasure for me. And it was at a time when I really needed to do some writing and get some music out of me. I’d been sick for a couple of years and hadn’t been able to do much writing or performing. At this point, I was recovering and really wanting to get back into my music.

This was all really good for me as far as writing the songs. We wrote for a couple of days, then the recording part came up. I remember saying, “Boys, I don’t know. That’d be great, but I’m really not sure I can do it.” I think it was Fergie who said, “We think you can.” I looked at him real serious and said, “Really?” And they both nodded. There wasn’t a lot said. It was a pretty solemn time there. I remember saying, “Well, if I do it, I’m going to treat it like it is the last one I’ll ever do.” Just because I was in that frame of mind at the time, mostly due to physical health reasons.

What was the moment like when you stepped up to the mic for the first time?

For me, singing is really something I’ve, thank the Lord, never really had to think about it, when it is time to step up to the mic. I do spend a lot of time thinking about singing, mind you. Most of my life I’ve walked around humming a tune. And maybe humming it a different little way. But when it is time to go into the studio or when I step up to the mic, I’m kind of on autopilot. I’m mainly trying to deliver the song, whatever the song is.

That certainly comes across in your singing.

Well, thank you. I want it to be real, in every kind of way. I’ve been a real stickler for that through my career. Sometimes you pay a price for that and sometimes it doesn’t turn out as good as you thought. On the other hand, when it is all over you can be proud of doing your own thing.

When you had those songs together, what was the recording process like? Did you cut them all at once or piecemeal?

We went in like three or four days one week and then we took a little break. I don’t even think we took a week break. We cut Monday through Thursday it seems and then took the weekend off and showed back up Monday. We had about 20 songs to choose from that we’d written over the previous months. I’ll always recall that as a really good time in my life. It really helped me to heal up. Even to the point today, I almost forget I was ever sick.

That’s so great.

It’s a blessing, is was it is. It took a lot of praying to get it. And now I am, and have been, well enough long enough that now the music is back on autopilot. I just do it all the time.

There’s a heaviness on this record as it deals so pointedly with mortality. On the flip side, it explores the simple pleasures in life and these elements really balance the record. Can you tell us some of the simple pleasures you are finding in life in these strange times?

I kind of found them a bit earlier through the songs and doing this record in a time when yeah, I had nearly died a couple of times. So, mortality is certainly in some of these songs, as far as my influence on them. Now there again, I can’t take the credit for any single song on the record because we had a lot of great help writing them. But my influence is a lot about mortality and the part in the songs about being thankful. That was kind of where I was at the time.

And you know what? As far as the situation right now and playing shows. … That’s been probably the biggest part of my life ever outside of my family has been going and playing the music to the fans. That’s pretty much all I have dealt with for the last fifteen years. As I’ve not been actively in the recording business, my live shows are what mean the most to me. It is a little bit difficult not knowing if or when or how we’ll be playing again to crowds. That’s been on my mind.

On the other hand, I feel very blessed to still feel healthy and have a great outlook. I’m still trying to write and sing most every day and doing a lot of gardening work and doing a lot of fishing. Fishing and gardening is what I’ve been doing and trying to play with my grandchildren. You have to save up energy to go do that.

How did the collaboration with Blake Shelton come about?

Blake is an old friend. I was a fan of Blake’s when I first heard him and then come to find out, he’s told people I was one of his biggest inspirations. At the time, when we were recording this record, low and behold we got a call from Blake’s people asking if we’d be interested in going on tour with him. For me, I did have to cancel tours previously on account of my hearing was nearly gone at the time. I didn’t have a working band. I hadn’t been on the road in a while.

I told them I didn’t have all that together and they said it was just for a few songs a night and his band will back you up. I said, “Really? That’d be a real treat. That’s like chocolate cake.” So it did work out and about the time the tour worked out we were finishing some of the tracks on this record and I said, “I’d love it if Blake could come in and sing with me on this.” We asked him and he was very gracious and did. Not only that, he invited me on the tour the next year also. Blake Shelton is a true hero of mine at this point. The tour was called Heroes and Friends and he’ll always be one of my heroes.

Do you ever revisit your old records? With all you’ve been through, do you view those songs in a different light?

Oh, I do. And I have been lately. That’s part of what I’ve been doing in this solitary time. What’s really been going through my mind lately are some of the songs that I thought were just as good as anything that I had ever written but really nobody got to hear them. Maybe I have twenty of them. I’ve been thinking about going in. It’s strange that you’d mention old stuff, and I’m talking about even from the time I was a teenager. Just things that I might go in and work on. Mainly just to pull it together and have that piece of work together, those songs. I’m thinking about that lately.


Photo credit: Alysse Gafkjen

WATCH: Karen Jonas, “Pink Leather Boots”

Artist: Karen Jonas
Hometown: Fredericksburg, Virginia
Song: “Pink Leather Boots”
Album: The Southwest Sky and Other Dreams
Release Date: Aug 28, 2020
Label: Yellow Brick Records

In Their Words: “Guitarist Tim Bray and I were driving from Austin to Santa Fe when I first scribbled some notes for ‘Pink Leather Boots.’ I had my boots up on the dash and was marveling at the space — the sheer acreage of Texas leaves room for all kinds of ghosts to hang around. There are old cars in the side yard, old houses crumbling beside new ones. We don’t have that kind of space on the East Coast, we have to build up instead of out. I thought out loud, ‘Who lives here with all these ghosts? What do they do? Are they happy?’ (I’m a hoot on long drives).

“We passed a neon sign that proudly announced ‘Dancing Girls!’ I pictured the scene there — an ambitious trucker falls in love and daydreams a future with this Dancing Girl, only to drive off into the sunset empty-handed. He drops that dream like the rusted car in the side yard, driving on to newer, shinier, perhaps more accessible dreams. On to whatever comes next. Sometimes, just dreaming is enough to fill the time.

“All of this contemplation simmered into a colorful story on top of a dusty shuffle, with Tim’s rockabilly-inspired Gretsch licks and Seth Morrissey’s thumping upright bass. Somehow strawberry milk got involved, and this feverishly fast-paced love-story-that-never-was unfolds like a big rig rolling down the unforgiving highway. Animator Matt Rasch captured the scene vividly in this fun, quirky video, complete with our starry-eyed hero and a herd of pink cows.” — Karen Jonas


Photo by Amber Renée Photography with art by Print Jazz

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

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

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

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

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

Courtney Marie Andrews: It’s funny, when I was writing this record I felt like I was in my own personal “quarantine.” It was my first time being alone in over nine years, it was my first time living alone, I moved to Nashville, I was making new friends. I felt, in my own way, that I had found this island. There’s definitely an in-place feeling to the record more than my other records.
It’s really insightful that you said my songs are like mantras, because sometimes, as the narrator [of these songs], I am sort of giving myself therapy. Especially on this record. It does feel like a mantra, particularly on songs like “Carnival Dream,” where I just say over and over again: “Will I ever let love in again? / I may never let love in again.” It’s sort of me accepting that that may be the case.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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


All photos: Alexa Vicius

LISTEN: Sam Rae, “Strangest Thing”

Artist: Sam Rae
Hometown: Charleston, South Carolina
Song: “Strangest Thing”
Album: Ten Thousand Years
Release Date: August 7, 2020

In Their Words: “The two words life and death live under the same roof, but if they were a texture or a rhythm they would be much different, both with their own groove. The content of this song sifts through my thoughts on life and death and present thought, which weave in and out of the record. ‘Strangest Thing’ is a gesture, like the tipping of one’s hat, prompting us to pull our eyes and minds out from behind the blindfold and remember what’s important.” — Sam Rae


Photo credit: Sophia Lou

LISTEN: Ted Russell Kamp, “Stick With Me”

Artist: Ted Russell Kamp
Hometown: Originally Hartsdale, New York; now many, many years in Los Angeles
Song: “Stick With Me”
Album: Down in the Den
Release Date: July 24, 2020
Label: PoMo Records

In Their Words: “This is a classic folk song I wrote that was inspired by the music of Nanci Griffith and John Prine. I wrote most of it on my own and then finished it with a good friend and very respected Nashville songwriter Dylan Altman. At the time, we were writing for the same Music Row publisher in Nashville so we did a lot of writing together.

“I married my college sweetheart, but met her just at the tail end of college. Before we knew each other, she had taken a summer-long road trip from New York to Seattle and back with her ex-boyfriend. He didn’t treat her all that well on the trip and later broke her heart. She was very cautious with wanting to start a budding relationship with me when I started falling for her and this song was based on the feelings for her I had at the time. She was running from life and I was trying to find her, comfort her, and let her know I was the one for her. It focuses on the running and our very human attempts to comfort the people we love and our wishes to work through barriers of insecurity and loneliness. Especially in crazy times like these, being compassionate and loving and creating deeper relationships is our way to a better life.

“I recorded this song while I was on tour in Europe six or seven years ago. (It’s one of the oldest songs on the record). The basic tracks were done on a day in between gigs in Finland, and the band on the recording is the band I still play with every time I go back to Finland to tour: Tommi Viksten and Tokela on guitar and Janne Haavisto on drums and percussion. All of these players are deeply respected and talented in their own country and they are on par with some of the best musicians I’ve ever played with. We cut the track live at E Studio in Helsinki. I then sang my final vocal take and added Hammond organ later that day. When I got home to the US, I asked my friend, Eric Heywood (Son Volt, Ray LaMontagne, the Pretenders) to play pedal steel and that’s the recording.” — Ted Russell Kamp


Photo credit: Karman Kruschke

On These 10 Recordings, Willie Nelson and Black Musicians Share a Creative Vision

Willie Nelson has long been not just an American musical treasure, but an iconic figure with far more appeal across racial and generational lines than often recognized. At 87, he’s achieved a perfect marriage of artistry and commercial success few have in any idiom. While certainly a country legend, and the only person in the genre to ever achieve a Top 10 hit in seven different decades, he’s also collaborated with an astonishing number of artists across a wide swath of musical styles and approaches. He’s penned numerous anthems that have been covered by jazz, blues, R&B, soul, rock and pop vocalists, and this month he released his 70th studio album, First Rose of Spring.

Nelson’s never been afraid to stand up for social justice, even when those words weren’t part of the popular vernacular. Early in Charley Pride’s career, Nelson actually gave him a kiss on stage in Louisiana, quieting an audience that was allowing some of its more verbally racist louts to heckle Pride on stage. He’s always included Black musicians in Farm Aid concerts, had one of his biggest albums ever (Stardust) produced by a Black man (Booker T. Jones, who raved about Nelson in his autobiography) and has maintained a friendship with Snoop Dogg since long before Lil Nas X appeared on the scene. He also enjoyed a very close relationship with Ray Charles, who Nelson lamented he could never beat at chess.

He’s in the same company with people like Duke Ellington, Louis Armstrong, and Bill Monroe, whose output, personality and consistent brilliance has endured despite changes in production, audience preferences, and many other variables that can negatively affect the careers of popular musicians. Part of the reason for that longevity is Nelson’s undeniable skill in multiple areas. He’s penned a host of songs that are every bit as epic as those from the pre-rock canon he often samples. Had he only written “Crazy,” “Funny How Time Slips Away,” or “On the Road Again,” that would have been enough for one lifetime. He’s also a very credible singer, highly effective in pacing and telling a story.

Nelson has consistently embraced and operated in other genres by neither sacrificing his musical individuality and integrity, nor seeming to pander or simply attempting to seem hip. Actually, he’s the epitome of that term, though in a vastly different way from someone like Miles Davis, who was known as much for fashion and fine cars as musical innovation. The fact that Nelson has appeared in more than 30 films just adds weight to his universal appeal.

Trying to pick the best of Nelson’s numerous collaborations with great Black singers and musicians is a tricky thing. One could easily select 10 one day, then come back and tab a different 10 another time. But these are some (far from all) personal favorites. They are ranked in order only by year, nothing more. We picked a mix of singles and LPs, but it’s just a small sample of the many wonderful things he’s done. By no means would we claim this is the definitive list for Willie Nelson’s collaborations with African American artists, but it’s a good sampler and an indicator of how widespread his impact and willingness to work with various musicians actually extends.

SINGLES AND ALBUM CUTS

“Man With The Blues” with Buckwheat Zydeco
From Five Card Stud (1994)

The greatest zydeco master since Clifton Chenier teams with Nelson for a smoky, delightful romp that sees Buckwheat Zydeco also find a comfort zone vocally and instrumentally. As is always the case, Nelson easily works himself into the arrangement, and the two sound right at home in this setting.


“Night Life” with B.B. King
From Deuces Wild (1997)

The King of the Blues sounds happy and engaged on one of Nelson’s earliest compositions, providing some taut guitar licks and outstanding lead and harmony vocals while Nelson doesn’t try to match the improvisational edge, instead easing into a nice zone that’s part complimentary, part quite different in style and sound, but ideal for the situation.


“Still Is Still Moving to Me” with Toots & the Maytals
From True Love (2004)

Toots brings some Jamaican soul and lots of energy to this collaboration, while Willie seems a bit more energetic as the song works its way through. This is one of many performances that earned this LP the Reggae Grammy, and Nelson had such a great time he made a follow-up of his own and paid Toots and company back by having them guest on it.


“Busted” with Ray Charles
From Genius & Friends (2004)

I know “Seven Spanish Angels” was a number 1 hit and more people remember it fondly, but this late redo of an early Charles hit has equal doses of warmth, reflection and edge in both voices. Charles was certainly not at his vocal peak, but he found a way to make his treatment effective, while Willie as always proves the ideal partner in multiple ways.


“Family Bible” with The Blind Boys of Alabama
From Take the High Road (2011)

The album title indicates precisely what Nelson does here, singing with verve and fire while the Blind Boys bring some of their characteristic Golden Age gospel energy and intensity to this rendition that’s alternately wistful, memorable and poignant. This composition dates back to Nelson’s late ’50s catalog, while he was trying to get heard as a songwriter.


“Grandma’s Hands” with Mavis Staples
From To All the Girls (2013)

Mavis Staples has one foot in the church and the other in the street with her customarily powerhouse voice setting the tone. Nelson manages not to get overridden or canceled out in the process as they do their own special version of the Bill Withers hit, which the Staples Singers cut for their 1973 Stax LP, Be What You Are.


“Last Night I Had the Strangest Dream” with Charles Lloyd and the Marvels
From I Long to See You (2015)

The great Memphis jazz man Charles Lloyd and his newest group provide the backing for what comes off as a cross between a nightmarish vision and a marvelous revelation, sung in emphatic fashion by Nelson and punctuated by Lloyd adding some nifty licks underneath and the Marvels adding some musical punch.


ALBUMS

Country Man (2005)

A follow-up to his appearance on Toots’ LP the year before, Nelson goes full bore into reggae territory. Some of it works, some of it doesn’t, but all of it is performed with enthusiasm and joy. Nelson vocally handles the skittering reggae rhythms well, and on the disc’s best songs surpasses what he did on True Love.


Two Men and the Blues (2008)

Wynton Marsalis as a youthful prodigy had a lot of negative things to say about a lot of things back in the ’70s and early ’80s, and country music wasn’t spared in his broadsides. But fast forward all these years later and his gorgeous trumpet solos (both full and muted) made a great musical partner and support system for Nelson, who by now was so familiar with pre-rock, blues, and even traditional jazz tunes and rhythms that it was super smooth sailing from first note to the end. Also recommended: the DVDs Live From Jazz at Lincoln Center with Wynton Marsalis (2008) and Willie Nelson & Wynton Marsalis Play the Music of Ray Charles (2009).


Here We Go Again: Celebrating the Genius of Ray Charles (2011)

Marsalis and Norah Jones joined Nelson to pay homage to his friend Ray Charles, doing wonderful renditions of both hits and more obscure Charles tunes before a rousing audience. Nelson sounded especially energetic throughout, while Marsalis, who’s often been accused of being more technically expert than emotionally powerful, delivered crushing solos and accompaniment, and Jones was equal parts alluring and engaging. As always, Nelson comes across as sincere and genuine, a marvelous mix of down-home sensibility and attitude.


Photos: Pamela Springsteen

WATCH: Waylon Payne, “All the Trouble”

Artist: Waylon Payne
Hometown: Austin, Texas
Song: “All the Trouble”
Album: Blue Eyes, The Harlot, The Queer, The Pusher & Me
Release Date: Sept. 11, 2020
Label: Carnival Recording Company/Empire

In Their Words: “I had just made the jump in November and moved back to Nashville [from Los Angeles] in 2015. The house I had rented was cool, but I had no sooner signed the lease before my friend Lee Ann asked me to join her on a writing weekend up in the Hamptons. I had not been there in many years, but Adam Wright and I flew to somewhere and met the bus and woke up on Long Island. There was a chill in the air and there was a good feeling going.

“Lee Ann Womack has been my friend for many years. I hold her and her family — Frank, Aubrie, and Anna — as my family and it has always been that way. She had set us up in a huge mansion with stellar views and fireplaces in each room. An added bonus came from a foul-mouthed top chef named Sylvia, who continually supplied (or plied) us with delicious five-course meals — every meal. The evenings were often wrapped with a hot toddy, full of bourbon and butter. We were there for almost a week and the songs started flowing. Adam, Lee Ann, and I wrote a song called ‘All the Trouble’ and another song called ‘Pictures.’ We also wrote some other songs with the band and Ethan Ballinger. The week felt like a success, and we all returned to Nashville just before the Thanksgiving holiday…” (Read more below.)

“…Later, Frank asked if I would like to go with them to Houston to record Lee Ann’s new album. He also asked if I would play guitar on the session. I am a lot of things, but no one has ever really referred to me as a guitar player. [My dog] Petey and I loaded up in a rental car and took off to Houston. The session was electric, and it was amazing to be there with my extended family to make music. Later, when the album came out, I had four songs on it. A few months later, I was sitting in the audience and nominated with Lee Ann and Adam for a Grammy. We didn’t win, and I didn’t mind that we lost to Brandi Carlile.

“As we were cutting this album, I had not planned on including ‘All the Trouble’ until Frank and Eric Masse suggested I give it a shot. I am proud to say it is one of my favorite tracks on the album. Thank you Lee Ann for including me on this fun journey!” — Waylon Payne


Photo credit: Bridgette Aikens

LISTEN: Cary Morin, “Valley of the Chiefs”

Artist: Cary Morin
Hometown: Lives in Fort Collins, Colorado; from Great Falls, Montana
Song: “Valley of the Chiefs”
Album: Dockside Saints
Release Date: August 7, 2020

In Their Words: “A true story told by my great grandmother at my Crow naming ceremony when I was about four years old. It tells of when she was a teenager and was kidnapped by a neighboring tribe. When women were kidnapped back then, they were destined to a life of servitude. She and her friends escape the warriors and are able to steal their horses and ride back home. The moral of the story from my great-grandmother to me was that there is nothing in life that you cannot overcome. I believe she was giving me this story to teach me perseverance in the face of any obstacles in my life. The story is familiar to me for my whole life.

“I wrote it as a memory of my life and my culture. I’ve written songs about the Crow side of my family for years. Not many of them were ever published until recently in my career. Earlier in my life, I probably thought that sharing these stories and family history was too personal. It would be interesting to ask other Crow people what their specific naming ceremony stories are. There are many… Now, I feel it is important to share this history and continue the oral history of my people. I’ve always wanted to hear this song with a different presentation. I had previously recorded it as a solo tune. I wanted a presentation with sweeping melodic lines.” — Cary Morin


Photo credit: Reggie Ruth Barrett

WATCH: Margo Price’s “Letting Me Down” Won’t Let You Down

Soulful songbird Margo Price is making the most of her quarantine with an inventive music video for “Letting Me Down” from her latest album, That’s How Rumors Get Started. It’s the singer-songwriter’s debut project for Loma Vista Recordings and first collection of new music since 2017’s All American Made.

On “Letting Me Down,” Price harnesses her inner badass with the cutting hook, “You have a way of letting me down.” That’s How Rumors Get Started is an encapsulation of Price’s energetic live show, which is wrought with the same high-flying spirit and tenacity seen in this artfully-captured music video. Already respected as a country singer, this project from exudes rock ‘n’ roll and firmly places Price in a category with other country rockers.

The video’s director Kimberly Stuckwisch drove an RV from Los Angeles to Nashville to film in Margo’s home and an abandoned hospital. She recalls, “We bought a cheap ’80s travel trailer with a bathroom, kitchen, and a propane-powered refrigerator, so we wouldn’t have to go inside anywhere for food or bathrooms. We were able to abide by the six-feet social distance CDC recommendation as we set up a remote head for the camera that we operated from a closet outside of the room. We wore masks the entire time and Margo supplied us with multiple bottles of hand sanitizer and spiked seltzers. We parked our RV in her driveway and worked solely out of there and the room we were filming in. We wanted to speak to what was going on at that moment, to a world that was/is shut down, to the fear we all feel, and to the hope of breaking free.”

Watch “Letting Me Down” and check out Price’s “Runaway Horses with Margo Price” live stream, too.


Photo credit: Bobbi Rich

LISTEN: India Ramey, “Montgomery Behind Me”

Artist: India Ramey
Hometown: Nashville, Tennessee
Song: “Montgomery Behind Me”
Album: Shallow Graves
Release Date: September 4, 2020

In Their Words: “‘Montgomery Behind Me’ is somewhat autobiographical. I got married young, the first time. My first husband (who is a nice man) was from a ‘good family’ in Montgomery. I was not, so I was a square peg in a round hole. I just never fit, not with him, not with anyone there. I felt guilty for not being happy and not making everyone else happy. Eventually I had to accept that my time there was an exercise in futility. I also had to muster the courage to accept who I am and be not just OK with it, but be happy about it. When I would think about leaving, I had this vision of me heading down that long, flat highway with the small Montgomery skyline behind me and never looking back. Above and beyond the personal stuff, this song is a refusal to people-please and an acceptance and liberation of one’s true self.” — India Ramey


Photo credit: Stacie Huckeba