MIXTAPE: Bob Sumner’s Intro to Canadiana

What a joy to be asked to create a playlist for the Bluegrass Situation. It did not take long to land on the theme of Canadian music. The only difficult part was keeping it short. We have such a deep well of incredible Americana – or as some call it up here, ‘Canadiana’ – to pull from north of the border.

I struggled leaving out Neil Young, Joni Mitchell, and Gordon Lightfoot. But I hope to introduce BGS’s fine readership to some new music they might not already be hip to. I had to flex a little muscle and throw in a tune (a very Canadian one at that) by The Band. I would hope that a fair few of the folks digging into this playlist might be familiar with Ian Tyson, if only from his biggest number, “Four Strong Winds.” However, some might not be as acquainted with his cowboy records, the greatest of which is arguably Cowboyography.

Some of these folks you’ll find here are dear friends, others acquaintances, one is my big brother, a few are my heroes, all of them are among the finest songwriters on the planet. I hope that you will discover something new that you will love and cherish for years to come. What a pleasure it is to share the gift of music. – Bob Sumner

“Wide Open Plain” – Doug Paisley

Doug Paisley is a national treasure. A marvelous flatpicker. A songwriter’s songwriter. It is rare that I care to hear one of my favorite songs by an artist re-recorded. With “Wide Open Plain,” Doug takes a classic and reinvents it without losing the meat that made the original such a mainstay.

“Acadian Driftwood” – The Band

We here in Canada are very proud of the 4/5ths Canadian membership of one of the greatest bands to grace the airwaves. We love Levon, too, of course. A lot.

“Trucker Speed” – Fred Eaglesmith 

Fred Eaglesmith at his finest here in all of his ragged glory. When Fred sings you believe him.

“Cut Fence (Let God Sort Em Out)” – Richard Inman

Inman is a remarkable songwriter. Here he is telling the story of a ranch fire. “Cut fence, let God sort em out, let them horses all run free.”

“All I Know” – Elliot C Way

Recorded in a tiny farm house. With intention Elliot captured the loose groove of Link Wray’s self titled record. Fiddle, acoustic guitar, steel and poetry.

“Dayton” – Fiver 

Fiver (Simone Schmidt) is a terrifying artist. An artist whom every time I listen to her music I am reminded of why I began writing songs. For the songs themselves. Art for art’s sake. Purity.

“That Sweet Orchestra Song” – Kacy & Clayton

Pure joy, this track. Kacy’s soaring, meandering, frankly perfect vocal dancing atop cousin Clayton’s singular virtuosic guitar work.

“Lonnie’s on rhythm, Bud Romanski’s on bass/
McGlynn plays the steel guitar/
Commence with a four-count and the crack of a drum/
Turn around at the end of the bar…”

What fun.

“Empty Husk” – Daniel Romano 

Exquisitely beautiful. Bold. I have a hunch if we opened up and had a peek inside Daniel Romano we might find an alien being, or a cyborg. It just doesn’t track that one man could be so incredibly exceptional at whatever it is he sets his heart and mind to.

“Born in Spring” – Chaya Harvey

You heard her here first. Bask in the joy of being in the club. Chaya won’t be underground for long. Soon she will be breaking hearts the world over with her tender and vulnerable voice of an angel.

“The Place I Left Behind” – The Deep Dark Woods

If you know, then you know. If The Woods are new to you, then boy are you in for a treat. A deep discography lay before you full of sonic riches.

“Summer Wages” – Ian Tyson

A finer cowboy singer you won’t find the world over. The author of “Four Strong Winds.” Here he is with “Summer Wages,” a gem of a song. Bobby Bare recorded an excellent version of this one on his 1981 record, As Is.

“For a Long While” – Colter Wall

It seems the more the world asks of Colter Wall, the more he would prefer to retreat to cowboy work on his Canadian prairie ranch. This one is from his latest record of cowboy songs, Little Songs. A beauty of a tune.

“Too Late” – Ben Arsenault

Ben Arsenault has just released a masterclass of a classic country record. These songs have it all. One after the other. The refrain, “It’s too late now, it was too late then/ it’s too late, it’s always been’/” will roll around in your head long after the needle leaves the vinyl. A shiny little nugget of country gold.

“Motel Room” – Bob Sumner 

People seem to be diggin’ this one. It grooves. It hooks. Dobro, fiddle, telecaster. If words are your thing, they’re here too. An old friendship trying to survive the wilds of alcoholism. Nostalgia. Reminiscing.

“Bad Habits” – Johnny 99

Vibes. Johnny 99 gets the vibes. This one goes well with a late night toke. Only Johnny 99 (well, maybe Snoop) could get away with the lyric, “Yeah, I’m talking ’bout that weed smoke.”

“Born to Lose” – Brian Sumner 

My big brother Brian. Years ago, his wife from his first marriage left quite suddenly. Brian holed up in their empty apartment and wrote a record. The songs run the gamut of the mourning process. Anger, sadness, forgiveness, understanding. Finally this incredible collection of songs has seen the light of day with Brian’s quiet little release of the demo’s from that time.


Photo Credit: Tianna Franks

BGS 5+5: Joshua Hyslop

Artist: Joshua Hyslop
Hometown: Vancouver, BC
Latest Album: Westward

Personal nicknames: Do self-appointed nicknames count? I started calling myself “Uncle J Bird” long before I was an actual uncle but people didn’t really go for it. I still try it out every now and then. One of my friend’s kids genuinely thinks it’s my name. A few fans of mine once tried to build up some steam by calling themselves “Hyslopportunists” but, thankfully, no one else was on board. Oh, and my friend Brian once called me “Joshua Thighslop” after he saw a picture of me in short shorts but it never caught on.

Which artist has influenced you the most … and how?

I think it changes. I have definitely drawn heavily on the inspiration I get from Paul Simon, The Tallest Man on Earth, and Daniel Romano, to name a few. Plus I’m always finding new music that grabs hold of me and completely changes my lens for a season or so. But overall I think the artist that has had the deepest influence on me is Ray Charles. Not necessarily stylistically, although there is some of that, but more so because of the feeling his music and more specifically his voice, evoke in me. It’s been the same ever since I was a kid and I heard one of his songs for the first time. Something about his voice just feels like going home. I can’t really explain it, but every time I hear him I smile and it reminds me of how much I love to sing.

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

I find inspiration in all of those forms but I think the one that has had the largest influence on me is literature. I read a lot. In fact, every time I finish reading 10 books I post about them on my blog, even though no one has said the word “blog” since the early 2000s. I’m going down with the ship, I guess. It’s usually just a turn of phrase or a specific description, or maybe just the feeling the book evokes, but there have been no shortage of moments that I’ve reached down into the lyrical ether to find an idea or that last line of a song and come up with something largely inspired by a book or a line I’ve read. It’s also a great break from writing. Whenever I come up against the wall I take a few steps back and just read or go for a walk. I don’t try to force my way through anymore. I’ve never been happy with the results when I’ve forced a song. Reading helps fill up the word bank and shift your creative mind off of “the problem” for a moment — sometimes, just long enough to help you unlock that phrase you’ve been looking for. Sometimes, not. But then, at least, you were reading a good book.

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

I actually always wanted to be a writer and had a really hard time calling myself a musician. I don’t read music and I don’t know any theory, so I’ve always kind of felt like a bit of an impostor when it comes to being a musician. But I do remember smoking weed with a friend of mine when we were maybe 15 or 16, which was right around the time I first picked up a guitar, and we were watching the Oasis DVD, Familiar to Millions, and we were in awe. After it ended we were both absolutely certain that we were going to be rock stars. I don’t know why or where that came from, but we were determined. So we formed a band and started writing songs and performed locally as often as we could. I still feel like a bit of an impostor sometimes, but they haven’t caught on yet, and I’m lucky enough to still be doing it all these years later.

What’s the toughest time you ever had writing a song?

It’s almost always tough. You get the occasional gem that takes like 20 minutes and feels as though it was already written and it’s just being delivered to you, which is an amazing feeling, but it’s also incredibly frustrating because the next time you try and write a song and it doesn’t just flow out of your pen you feel like you’ve lost your touch or that it’s all gone and now you’re finished. Most of the time it’s a bit of a struggle, like doing a pretty difficult jigsaw puzzle. It’s like, if you just focus and stick to it and don’t give up, eventually you’ll find it. But I’ve had a few that have honestly taken me years. In fact, I just finished a song last week where I had two verses and two pre-choruses finished since about 2016. They always came back to me and I could never figure out where to go. Somehow, last week, it finally landed. Now, I just have to hope that it’s actually good.

What’s your favorite memory from being on stage?

There have been many, but the first that comes to mind was when Mick Fleetwood invited me to play with him on his rooftop bar, Fleetwood’s on Front Street, in Maui. I’d never met him and I was only in town for a weekend to play a wedding for a couple who have since become some of my dearest friends. They were somehow distantly connected to him and someone showed him my music and he reached out about playing a show. He’d hired a cello player he’d been wanting to play with and said he wanted to play my songs. The three of us met a few hours before the sold-out show began and we played that night for around two hours. I think I’d maybe played with a band twice before in my life and only after we’d rehearsed extensively. But, magic happened and the three of us connected musically. It was one of those experiences that people call spiritual because it was so surreal it felt like it had to be otherworldly. I’m sure there were glitches as we played, but I don’t recall them. After the show, Mick said some incredibly kind things about me to the crowd and it was a moment I will never forget. The bar was kind enough to film the whole thing with GoPros and send me the files but I’ve never watched them. I got to live it and nothing can do that justice.

MIXTAPE: Nate Sabat’s Quiet, Poignant & Powerful Playlist

Something completely magical happens when musicians find the perfect blend of darkness, quietness, and intensity. It almost feels like the bottom drops out of the music, guiding the listener’s ears into the void of beautiful nothingness below. I still can’t pin it, how such a soft sound can feel so immeasurably huge, like it somehow contains the entire universe within itself. It’s something I’ve grown to love over the past few years, and I hope these songs will touch you as they’ve touched me.

P.S: The tracks on this list have been responsible for the majority of my tears over the past few years, so get your tissues ready. — Nate Sabat

“Humble Me” – Norah Jones

The raw story mixed with the incredibly honest delivery of the lyric always gets me with this one. Norah at her absolute best. I also particularly love the line “it never rains when you want it to.” I feel like it sticks out in a really, really good way.

“Pink Champagne” – Kathleen Edwards

The combination of Kathleen Edwards’ brilliant songwriting and Justin Vernon’s production approach are in full force on this track. Since hearing this song I’ve made it one of my life goals to not feel like this on my wedding day.

“Unless” – Hawktail

I love the winding, lush melody of this tune, paired with the beautifully shot video at Nashville’s Downtown Presbyterian Church. And also, I like, TOTALLY geek out at Paul’s bass shredding. Ya know, as a fellow bass player and all.

“Louise” – Daniel Romano

I first heard Daniel Romano on WUMB, Boston’s premier folk music radio station, with his song “Time Forgot (To Change My Heart).” Since then I’ve dug into a ton of his stuff, and particularly love his record Modern Pressure, an ode to the psychedelic sounds of yesteryear.

“Dreams of Nectar” – Abigail Washburn

This track is so cool and collage-like. I’m such a sucker for horns, so was instantly pulled in from the start the first time I heard it.

“Turning Away” – Crooked Still

I love how exposed Greg Liszt’s banjo part is on this track. The track is so short, but also the exact right length.

“Bonden & fan / Leffes polska” – Hazelius Hedin

This pair of tunes from Swedish duo Hazelius Hedin are so dark, so expansive, and so, so rich. I always picture a dark Swedish forest after an intense rainfall when I listen to this one.

“Your Long Journey” – Sam Amidon

This song, written by Rosa Lee and Doc Watson, has been beautifully reimagined by the great Sam Amidon. In my opinion he’s one of the greatest interpreters of folk and traditional music on the scene today, so definitely check out more of his stuff if you haven’t already.

“Harbour Hawk” – Becca Stevens

Becca Stevens’ music is some of the most interesting stuff I’ve heard to date. Constant texture and groove changes are tied together with impeccably crafted lyrical content. I love the opening riff of this song, and how it re-enters throughout in such a smooth way.

“00000 Million” – Bon Iver

One day last summer I was in a dark place, so naturally I listened to Bon Iver, specifically the entirety of 22, A Million. This song, the final one of the record, was so comforting. I remember being amazed at how powerful music can be, that it could somehow reach into my mind and make me feel better.

“Closer” – Joe Walsh

Man, Joe wrote an absolute gem. I don’t know if I’ve ever heard a melody so simple and profound. I told him how much I loved this tune, and that I always thought of the name as meaning “closer to someone or something,” but he told me that it’s actually “the closer of the album,” as it is actually the closer of his latest album, Borderland. Go figure.


MIXTAPE: Carson McHone’s Recent & Relevant Playlist

Modern songs that deal with important topics. Not all of these songs pinpoint specific political or social issues but they contribute to the conversations I believe we need be having in society today. When I am frustrated or angry or scared about the state of the world, these are songs that inspire me to focus my energy. They remind me that art is relevant and in fact an important tool in the global discussion. — Carson McHone

“To the Boys” — Molly Burch

Molly is a local Austin favorite and her latest record covers lots of territory. This one’s very direct and delivers an undeniable punch. Also it’s super catchy!

“Glass Jar” – Tristen

Killer pop songs all over Tristen’s latest release. “Glass Jar” examines social media I believe … great imagery!

“Wild Blue Wind” — Erin Rae

Like Tristen, Erin Rae is based in Nashville and tapped in to some very relative issues including sexual identity and, in “Wild Blue Wind,” struggles with mental health. This song is so beautiful and it makes me cry every time I hear it.

“Bad Bad News” — Leon Bridges

This song is something else. It’s heavy, but it rises above and is groovy in every way. It’s my favorite thing from him so far…

“(Gone Is) All but a Quarry of Stone” – Premix Single — Daniel Romano

Both this song and the accompanying video are devastating. There’s something so beautiful and timeless about the melody and yet the song is haunting and foreboding, suggesting, well, just doom it seems. And I love this premix version.

“Little Movies” — Aaron Lee Tasjan

Another Nashvillian making waves and great music. “Little Movies” I believe also deals with the modern age of technology and social media, how we establish our presence on the screen, definitely a worthy topic for discussion.

“Boyfriend” — Marika Hackman

She’s not afraid to get dirty. Marika Hackman’s lyrics always dig deep. The music on her 2018 I’m Not Your Man album, this song in particular, is more raw and rockin’ than I’ve heard from her before and it’s totally killer.

“Image” — Lera Lynn

Every line is great. Relevant? I’d say especially these days!

“The Body Electric” — Hurray for the Riff Raff

This song does a beautiful job of reaching back in time and bringing a common, and dark, theme into the spotlight of modern times. The tune and the video are working on lots of levels, and they’re all very powerful.

“It Seemed the Better Way” — Leonard Cohen

The timing of his passing was uncanny. It certainly got darker, way darker. But he left us with a lifetime of just the most thoughtful art. We’ve got a lot of work to do and we’ve got his words and music to aspire to. Thank you Leonard Cohen.


Photo credit: Laura Hajar

Michaela Anne, ‘Easier Than Leaving’

In country music, a "weeper" is a real thing: a song that's somewhere between a ballad and a hopeless confessional, that places more emphasis on a forlorn guitar and rare, raw lyricism than showboat vocals (though they're often part of the package, too). Think Hank Williams' and Patsy Cline's saddest moments or, later, Townes Van Zandt's — jewels like "I'm So Lonesome I Could Cry" that struck a perfect balance on the Southern scale with barn-burning honky-tonk, keeping it all delicately teetering in line.

But then the '90s happened and, for better or worse, ballads got the Faith Hill and Shania Twain treatment — notes hit the ceiling and power bombast replaced subtle solemnity. Simplicity, this was not. Luckily, there's been a new bubbling interest in bringing back the genre's delicate, melancholy roots: most of Daniel Romano's Come Cry with Me, Andrew Combs' "Too Stoned to Cry," Margo Price's "Hands of Time," and even Miranda Lambert's "Holding On to You." Now Michaela Anne, on her sophomore album, Bright Lights and the Fame, has an LP full of them — heartbreakers so grounded in self-awareness that they never sound anything but authentic, yet never too indulgent to ring just like diary scribbles.

One of the LP's best is "Easier Than Leaving," which opens with a snapshot in time of a fading relationship: "Sitting at the table, back's against the wall / Coffee's getting colder as I wait for you to talk." Who hasn't felt that tension, taken a last gasp at peaceful air before they fully breathed in the inevitable reality they knew was coming? With a clear quiver, Anne, who moved to Nashville from New York City two years ago, reinvents the lost age of those weepers in the way someone equally schooled in both the forebears — like Williams and Cline — and its modern folk interpreters — like Gillian Welch and Conor Oberst who carried the emotive torch when mainstream Music Row was too busy belting — might. "Easier Than Leaving" might not change her lover's mind and force them to stay, but it will just continue to help put soft, strummed country sadness back on the map.