MIXTAPE: Caleb Caudle’s Country Funk Favorites

There’s a special thing that happens when the groove of soul music meets the sharp pen of country music. I’ve heard folks call it Country Soul, Country Funk, Cosmic American Music or simply “The Rub.” I refer to it as Down Home Funk. It keeps the toes tapping and the mind thinking. The special blend is a sound I gravitated towards a few years ago and it really made its way into my new record, Better Hurry Up. — Caleb Caudle

Guy Clark – “Texas Cookin’”

Guy comes out swingin’ on his sophomore record with the funkiest rhythm to any of his tunes up to that point. It’s so greasy and I’m hungry just listening to it right now. Long live food in songs!

Bill Withers – “Grandma’s Hands”

Drenched with nostalgia, this is one of my favorite tunes from Mr. Withers. He puts his personal experiences in a songs and something personal becomes so relatable. It gets me thinking about my own grandma. I’m a sucker for that Wurlitzer.

Bobbie Gentry – “Louisiana Man”

The first time I heard this tune was on a Doug Kershaw record. I love how she makes it her own. She has one of my very favorite voices. Even got a little bitty muskrat cousin! Bless it.

The Band – “Up on Cripple Creek”

I mean who am I kidding? This whole playlist could be The Band. They changed the way I heard music. They take every brand of roots music and blend it up effortlessly and effectively. God bless Levon Helm and all of his magic. I’ve touched the horseshoe at Big Pink on three separate occasions. It’s a healthy obsession.

Jeannie C. Riley – “Back Side of Dallas”

I got turned on to this tune from the Cocaine & Rhinestones three-parter on “Harper Valley PTA.” I love the vocal delivery here. Total swagger. The band is bold and the lyrics are gritty. Just feels real man, I dig it.

JJ Cale – “Lies”

His groove is so perfect, I feel like he drops the listener right into it. His guitar tone is always so on point. I’ve spent way too much time watching YouTube videos and trying to figure out what all is going on. Lies, Lies, Lies!

Townes Van Zandt – “Where I Lead Me”

I like sad TVZ a lot but I love TVZ when he has a chip on his shoulder and a blues band behind him. Everything feels nice and loose. I’ve always loved the line “In the meantime, make a little money and buy a little mercy”

Aretha Franklin – “The Weight”

As much as I love the original from The Band, I consider this the definitive version. The band is great, especially that slide work from Brother Duane. She is peaking the mic all over this one and it’s just so perfect.

Bobby Charles – “Small Town Talk”

Being from a small town, this one hits home. I love this Bobby Charles self-titled record. I hope more folks get turned on to it. The whole record sounds like a ferry ride down the Mississippi River. Who are we to judge one another? That could cause a lot of hurt.

Dolly Parton – “Jolene”

What hasn’t been said about this tune? I think the greatness comes from it still sounding fresh to this day. The riff, the vocal, the lyrics… this is a perfect song. I’m sure it really stood out on country radio at the time. It’s haunting. I can’t remember a time when I didn’t know this song.

Leon Russell – “Tight Rope”

Like The Band, I’m sure I could have made this whole playlist the master of space and time. He’s peculiar and familiar at the same time. I like the way this one bounces. A great opening track for my favorite record of his, Carney.

Linda Ronstadt – “Willin’”

I was familiar with the Little Feat version because it was all over classic rock radio when I was growing up. I recently got turned on to this take, I really love how patient it is. Great vocal take from Linda.


Photo credit: Laura E. Partain

BGS 5+5: Western Centuries

Artist: Western Centuries
Hometown: Seattle, Washington
Latest album: Call the Captain
Personal nicknames (or rejected band names): Country Hammer (our first band name, since rejected)

All responses by Jim Miller

Which artist has influenced you the most … and how?

When I was 17 years old, living in Branford, Connecticut, the only music I considered “real” was Jimi Hendrix. Nothing else mattered. Then, for reasons I can’t recall, some friends and I went to a concert by Ralph Stanley and the Clinch Mountain Boys in a small venue at Yale University called The Enormous Room. His band at that time included Ricky Skaggs and Keith Whitley, who appeared to be teenagers, like I was. From that point on, my musical life was forever changed. I became a “Ralph Head” and would hitchhike pretty much anywhere on the Eastern Seaboard to see his band play. Even though it’s hard to draw a direct line from Ralph Stanley to the music I write and perform today, I hope that some spiritual elements of his music have seeped into my own.

What’s your favorite memory from being on stage?

I spent 20 years touring with the band Donna the Buffalo. One year, we were hired to play MerleFest and our set, with Peter Rowan as part of the band, was scheduled to close the main stage, going on after Dolly Parton. We of course thought that this was our big break. But it turns out that Dolly talks quite a bit between songs and certainly nobody is going to cut her off. The length of our closing set kept shrinking.

When it got down to where it would be 20 minutes long, the stage manager asked: “Do you still want to go on?” Yes! So we rushed up there and started playing in our long-winded, jammy style. The stage crew could see where this was headed — I can’t remember whether we got through two or three songs before they shut down the house PA and monitors and turned the stage lights off. But our amps still worked! So we raged on as the audience stampeded for the exit gates. Priceless.

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

I spent my formative years in Saskatoon, Saskatchewan. When I was 7 years old, I auditioned for the Saskatoon Boys Choir and somehow made the cut. We got to wear a turquoise vest, a little white jacket, and a black bow tie. Unlike the other kids, I couldn’t read music, but I somehow faked it — learning my parts by ear. We toured the Prairie Provinces, performing in churches and schools, and it became clear to me that being a musician was my true calling.

Which elements of nature do you spend the most time with and how do those impact your work?

I’m a Lepidopterist by training, the study of butterflies and moths. I’ve hiked endless miles through the jungles of Central and South America, searching for rare species. Those travels have opened my eyes to the vastness and beauty of the natural world. They’ve also exposed me to people in different countries who speak different languages, eat different food, and live day-to-day in intimate contact with nature. Such experiences inform my world outlook and provide musical inspiration in ways I can acknowledge, but not easily explain.

Since food and music go so well together, what is your dream pairing of a meal and a musician?

I would go to Bob Seger’s house — in Detroit I assume — and ask him to cook cheeseburgers on the grill. I can make the coleslaw.


Photo credit: Bill Reynolds

The Breakdown – Dolly Parton, ‘The Grass Is Blue’

Season 2 of The Breakdown has arrived! Fiddler Patrick M’Gonigle and music journalist Emma John uncover bluegrass music one iconic record at a time, premiering with an in-depth exploration of Dolly Parton’s Grammy and IBMA award-winning album, The Grass Is Blue.

LISTEN: APPLE PODCASTS • MP3

In the heart of the Smoky Mountains, Emma gets to interview Dolly herself, who explains that bluegrass is so important to her that she risked it all to release her groundbreaking 1999 record. Of course, we’re glad that she did – who else knew that Billy Joel would go great with banjo?

Season 2 of The Breakdown is sponsored by The Soundtrack of America: Made In Tennessee. Visit TNvacation.com to start planning your trip.

WATCH: I’m With Her Celebrate Dolly Parton, ‘Trio II’ with “Lover’s Return”

The beautiful voices of I’m With Her paid special tribute to the illustrious icon Dolly Parton in their latest visit to the studio for Live from Here. In an intimate performance, I’m With Her sing “Lover’s Return,” originally a Carter Family song, which Dolly, Emmylou Harris, and Linda Ronstadt revived only a few years before the turn of the century on Trio II. Now as a new decade is settling in, I’m With Her look back and remember, breathing new life into music that inspired so many — including Sarah Jarosz, Aoife O’Donovan, Sara Watkins, and of course, Dolly herself.

BGS 5+5: Donna Ulisse

Artist: Donna Ulisse
Hometown: Hampton, Virginia
Latest album: Time for Love
Personal nicknames (or rejected band names): Lots of family and friends just call me “Da”, which didn’t work so well for me when we were in Russia doing some shows because da means yes in their language so I was always turning my head in big crowds, thinking someone was calling me! My band members sometimes call me by my initials: D.U.

Which artist has influenced you the most … and how?

My dad and I have always had a major crush on Loretta Lynn! From as far back as my memory will go, I have admired her sassy songs and her way of delivering them. In my world, she is and will always be the cat’s meow. It took becoming a serious songwriter to realize that I also loved her writing. When I was young I didn’t give much thought to who wrote her songs, I just simply loved them. As I matured in this business I was struck by how many of the artists I adored actually wrote their own songs and Loretta was at the top of the heap.

When I started my journey into the bluegrass genre, my first producer, Keith Sewell, hit the talkback button in the studio after we cut a song I wrote called “When I Look Back” and said he thought I wrote like a mix of Loretta and Dolly. I didn’t touch the ground for two weeks after that. What a wonderful compliment! Loretta’s influence is certainly pronounced throughout my song catalog.

What’s your favorite memory from being on stage?

This one is easy! I was 12 and I was asked to sing one song at a popular venue in Mathews, Virginia, called Donk’s Theater. The show was loosely patterned after the Grand Ole Opry, with a staff band that would help spotlight young talent and I was one of the fortunate recipients. My mom and dad were SO excited! They invited all kinds of family and friends, probably thirty or so. The week before the show dad took me out shopping; I’ll never forget it. He let me buy a Gunne Sax dress that reached the floor. I thought I looked just like Loretta Lynn. I twirled in front of my mirror for hours when I got home and used my hairbrush to practice holding a microphone.

The night of the show is still so clear. The place was packed and the spotlights were incredibly bright. I was given a generous introduction and I walked out and sang a Loretta Lynn song, “Somebody Somewhere,” to the top of my lungs. I loved it, every moment, smell, sight, clap, note… all of it. Years later, my Aunt Helen told me that my mom and dad lost all their color when my name was announced and never blinked or swallowed while I was on stage, bless their hearts. I guess I didn’t have to be nervous, Mom and Dad did that for me.

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

In all honesty, I knew I would be on stage when I was very young, maybe 5 or 6 years old. I have never dreamed of another career, it was always going to be the stage for me. But if you want to know the exact moment my star was born, it would be that Loretta Lynn song I performed on the Donks stage when I was 12. I owned it and never looked back.

If you had to write a mission statement for your career, what would it be?

I’ve never been good with homework, but I believe the topic of my mission statement would be perseverance! I have never given up on my dream of performing, even through the darkest of times. I was one of the blessed when I was signed to Atlantic Records in the early ’90s. A major country deal is a huge accomplishment and much coveted. I was out in L.A. doing a Dick Clark show when I got the call that I lost my deal. It was brutal, heartbreaking. I was so lost in those days but I knew deep down there was a place for me to sing.

I turned my heart and hopes into songwriting and it saved my music life. Through songwriting I discovered the mountains that lived in my soul and I started writing Appalachian sounding tunes that led me into this warm and wonderful world of bluegrass. I am having success in this business a little late, but so very cherished and appreciated. This is the world I was always meant for and perseverance got me here!

Which elements of nature do you spend the most time with and how do those impact your work?

My husband and I bought a little farm outside of Nashville a few years ago. I’m not your typical farm girl but I love this land. It has a sweeping field that leads down to a creek and I spend lots of time watching goats and cows and all the changes that spread across the field. In the spring, vibrant yellow flowers show off the new season like a Sunday hat. In the summer there is so much purple bursting out all over the tall grasses, reminding me of an Irish hillside. In the fall there are elements that look like a harvest, like a bounty was laid there though we don’t plant anything, and in the winter the field lays there like temptation and whispers for springtime. This is where so much of my inspiration is found these days. I write about the spirit and the glory and the life that I see from my table on the porch.

MIXTAPE: The Milk Carton Kids, In Harm’s Way

“There’s a paradox at the heart of great harmony singing: when voices combine in so elemental a way that they disappear into each other, the effect is dizzying, mystifying, disorienting, and yet by far the most satisfying sound in music. Here’s a VERY incomplete playlist, spanning a few generations, of bands defined by their harmonies, who set my mind spinning with their vocal arrangements, execution, and pure chemistry as singers.

“Full disclosure: my own band is included aspirationally and for the sake of self-promotion. Author’s Note: Sorry not sorry for naming this playlist with a pun.” — Joey Ryan, The Milk Carton Kids

The Jayhawks – “Blue”

That unison in the first few lines is so thrilling cause you know what’s about to happen, and when the parts separate it just feels so good.

Gillian Welch – “Caleb Meyer”

The harmonies and Dave’s playing are so intricate in this song you’d be forgiven for glossing over the lyrics, which tell the story of an attempted sexual assault victim killing her attacker with a broken bottle. Check out the Live From Here version with Gaby Moreno, Sarah Jarosz, and Sara Watkins, and catch the alt lyric subbing “Kavanaugh” for “Caleb Meyer” about halfway through.

Gram Parsons & Emmylou Harris – “Hearts on Fire”

Just one of the all-time great duets. Who’s singing the melody, Emmylou or Gram? Hint: trick question.

Our Native Daughters – “Black Myself”

Do all supergroups hate being called supergroups? I wouldn’t know. Our Native Daughters is a supergroup though, and the power of their four voices in the refrains and choruses of this one are all the proof I need.

Dolly Parton, Linda Ronstadt, & Emmylou Harris – “Those Memories of You”

It’s insane that three of the great singers of their generation just so happened to have this vocal chemistry. Their voices swirl together like paint and make a color I’ve never seen before.

boygenius – “Me & My Dog”

Favorite game to play when this song comes on is “try not to cry before the harmonies come in.” Very difficult. Impossible once they all sing together.

The Smothers Brothers – “You Can Call Me Stupid”

GOATS. IDOLS. Favorite line is, “That’s a pun isn’t it?” “No, that really happened.”

The Milk Carton Kids – “I Meant Every Word I Said”

My band. Imposter syndrome. We recorded the vocals on this whole album into one mic together. It helps us disappear our voices into each other’s.

Crosby, Stills, Nash & Young – “Carry On”

For me, CSNY are the pinnacle of that disorienting feeling harmonies give you when you just have no idea what’s going on. I’ve never been able to follow any one of their individual parts and I LOVE that.

Sam & Dave – “Soothe Me”

When the chorus comes around and you can’t decide which part you want to sing along with, you know they did it right.

Louvin Brothers – “You’re Running Wild”

The Louvins sound ancient to me. Primal. The way their voices rub against each other in close harmony is almost off-putting but I’m addicted to it.

The Highwomen – “If She Ever Leaves Me”

There’s probably even better examples of the Highwomen doing that crazy thing with their four voices where they become one entirely unique voice, all together, but this song is just so good I had to go with it. And the blend in the choruses is just as intoxicating as it gets.

I’m With Her – “See You Around”

Really an embarrassment of riches in modern music on the harmony front. Hearing I’m With Her perform around one microphone drives me insane with the best possible mix of confusion, jealousy, and joy.

Mandolin Orange – “Paper Mountain”

The melancholy is so satisfying when either one of them sings alone, and then they bring that low harmony and I have to leave the room.

Skaggs & Rice – “Talk About Suffering”

This whole record is a masterclass in two-part harmony. It changed my entire concept of singing. I’m Jewish, but when this song comes on it makes me sing wholeheartedly of my love for Jesus.

The Everly Brothers – “Sleepless Nights”

The absolute masters of both parts of a two-part harmony standing alone as the melody. Credit to Felice and Boudleaux for that, for sure, but the Everlys executed it better than anyone before or since.

Simon & Garfunkel – “59th Street Bridge Song (Feelin’ Groovy) — Live at Carnegie Hall, New York, NY – July 1970

This is far from my favorite S&G song, but this live version especially showcases what geniuses they were at arranging crossing vocal lines, unisons, parallel melodies, nonsense syllables and swirling harmonies. Plus the nostalgic “awwww” from the crowd gives me hope that a sensitive folk duo could one day achieve mainstream success again.

Shovels & Rope – “Lay Low”

This starts out as a song of profound loneliness with just one voice singing, then the harmony comes in and it gets… even lonelier? Harmony is magic.

Boyz II Men – “End of the Road”

I’m a child of the ‘90s, don’t @ me. I never realized at all those 8th grade slow dances that we were subliminally being taught world-class harmony singing and arranging. Good night.


Photo Credit: Jessica Perez

For ‘Dolly Parton’s America’ Host, It All Starts with “Muleskinner Blues”

In public radio and podcast fandom Jad Abumrad’s voice is not only immediately recognizable, it’s iconic. As a host of WNYC’s hit show, Radiolab, Abumrad has explored myriad topics ranging from secret World War II missions to the social and cultural impacts of contagious diseases. He has a knack for storytelling, uncovering and contextualizing minute details that many other writers and journalists may have simply shrugged at or glossed over.

This instinct, a sixth sense that guides him to these subtle nuances that often rest undisturbed just below the surface or hide in plain sight, is focused on a new subject in his brand-new podcast (also produced and distributed by WNYC), Dolly Parton’s America. The nine-part series lives up to the oft-invoked, seldom accurate characterization of “a deep dive,” covering ground that even the most ardent Dolly experts and fans may have never trod.

A self-described “new initiate” of country music, Abumrad grew up in Nashville, but given Dolly’s standing as an almost omnipresent cultural touchstone he realized much later that during those Tennessee years he almost couldn’t see the Dolly Parton forest for the Dolly Parton trees. “I knew her music, in terms of the crossover stuff — ‘9 to 5’ and ‘Islands in the Stream,’” he admits. “But the first place I started was going back to ‘60s Dolly and ‘70s Dolly. That’s a very different Dolly.” 

Though what he found in those early decades of her career was often unexpected, it was never truly shocking or surprising, especially given the pop culture monolith that Parton has become since those years. A monolith that Abumrad describes as being able to bring people together across all manner of divides — something particularly remarkable in this current global moment. 

“You see these stories emerge of not only her changing over time, but what was happening around her in the south, in Appalachia, and in America,” he continues. “The early Dolly music and lyrics became almost like a portal that I could step through to talk about history, to talk about politics, to talk about culture, to talk about feminism. It’s all there in her music.”

And so, it’s all in the podcast. In the two already released episodes Abumrad et. al. cover topics as broad and varied as Dolly’s constantly being undervalued as a songwriter, her being “typecast” as a secondary character (a “dumb blonde”), her shift from the sad, forlorn songs of her early career to her jubilant, encouraging anthems later on, and even her own struggles with suicidal ideation.

With such an entity as Parton, a bystander might assume that any approach to unspooling the many tendrils of her vastly variable and dynamic career would be insufficient, myopic, and/or excruciatingly intimidating. Abumrad faces this daunting task with aplomb, acknowledging the many ways such a project can go awry, but not allowing that acknowledgment to dissuade him. Rather than shy away from storytelling that might open him and the podcast up to criticism about omissions or oversights or missteps, he leans into the humanity that allows for those scenarios. “This is a project where I was trying to see Dolly through other people’s eyes, so that I could understand them and understand their lives and their experiences… I wanted to understand Dolly not simply as a performer and an icon, but as somebody who’s created all this culture… Why do they love it? What do they see in it? What is it about it that calls them? I felt like that was a way to understand the country at this moment.”

BGS editor and contributor Justin Hiltner spoke to Abumrad on the phone about Dolly Parton’s America; the two took turns picking their favorite Dolly tracks, as if standing in front of a Dolly-only jukebox in a Dolly-themed dive bar. 

JH: If you and I were standing in front of a jukebox full of Dolly Parton songs what would be your “pick” if you were asked to play Dolly Parton for a room full of people? What would be the first song you would think of? 

JA: I think [with] any jukebox selection you have to disclaim: There’s no way to be comprehensive, so any selection you make is going to be one tiny sliver of a tremendous catalog of thousands and thousands of songs. 

But, I think the first one I’m going to have to pick is “Muleskinner Blues.” I think it was 1970? I think that’s right. 1970. I would play this one because that song is just… it is pure fire. The rhythm section is so badass and her on top of it, you just cannot — you have to move when you hear it. And I say this as somebody who didn’t grow up with this genre. I grew up in a house full of opera and bad hair metal. Country music was not my jam. But this is one of the first songs that when I heard it I was like, “Oh my god. This SONG.” 

The moment that she ad-libs, “I’m a lady muleskinner–” 

Oh my god, it’s so good. 

It’s so good! And I think about it all the time. When we talk about bluegrass, [people like to say,] “Oh, you know, we don’t have that many women forebears, we don’t have many [women] to point to.” I hear that [ad-lib] and I hear her telling the history of women in roots music and American music. “I’m a lady muleskinner” is like, “I’m not just singing this song that’s always been sung by men, this song is MINE now.” I love that. 

Let me follow that inspiration, because one of the things that I think about that song is where it falls in her history. She was on the Porter Wagoner show, right? She’s this crazy prolific songwriter, but she’s kind of under the thumb of this guy, who’s a legend and an amazing hitmaker in his own right, but he was kind of holding her back. At that point she’s starting to bristle. We talked to a bunch of people… I think of them as “Dolly-ologists,” these new academics who think about Dolly a lot, before this song it was a lot of sad songs, often sung from the perspectives of little girls, about something that had been done wrong to them. This is the first song that she grabs her power, in some way. 

When she holds that first note she holds it as long as she wants and the band has to follow her. So she’s like, “Y’all gonna follow me.” Then as soon as she lets go the band follows her. It’s literally her taking charge of the band. You feel that power, you feel that energy. It’s such a good song. I’ve been listening to it non-stop.

I think my first jukebox pick, what might be my favorite Dolly cut ever, is “Do I Ever Cross Your Mind” with Chet Atkins. Have you heard this? 

Yeah! 

It’s just two guitars, it’s just them. They’re kind of conversing while they play. There’s this subtle moment where Chet makes a joke like, “Why don’t you pick one, Dolly?” Then he continues to pick a solo and Dolly laughs like, “That’s not me, that’s not me!” But there’s this sort of respect in his voice, where he’s telling the listeners that she’s a picker. Like, “Don’t forget, don’t sleep on Dolly Parton. She can play guitar!” She’s the real deal. 

They mix up the words at one point, they aren’t singing the right harmonies together. Then at the end, they’re just laughing together, and Dolly sighs, “Oh, I love you Chet.” He’s like, “Oh, I love you Dolly.” I think it’s my all-time favorite Dolly Parton recording ever. And for a song that she’s re-recorded so many times, to hear it pared down like that — definitely my number one pick. 

Wow. That’s awesome. 

What’s another one for you? 

Let’s see, I’m really zoned in on ‘70s Dolly right now. I hope you don’t mind that most of my picks are going to be in that era.

Nothing wrong with that! 

I just love the moment that her songs go kinda funky and percussive. I’ve always been less of a lyric guy and more of a music/tambour kind of guy. I love from “Jolene” on when she starts adding different instrumentations to her songs. 

I have a couple of picks here… let’s go with “Joshua.” Again, it’s a song she did right after “Muleskinner” and I feel like that’s the moment when she truly becomes [a star] — if you want to look at her ascent to global superstardom, I think it begins in those few years and “Joshua” was her first number one. I just love the production of the song, I love how her voice was recorded, it’s a little bit distorted. I love how all the instruments are panned hard left or right. The rhythm guitar is over on the right and Dolly’s voice is on the left — or maybe it’s vice versa. I love the whole ‘70s production of it. 

It’s such a weird story! It’s [about] an orphan girl meeting a crazy old man living by himself in the woods and they fall in love. There’s something kind of offbeat and oddball, but also kind of poetic about it. When it modulates, it goes up a semitone, like somewhere in the middle. It’s just cookin’. I love it.

My next pick, and really this is hard, I would probably pick something off of The Grass is Blue. And I think that my favorite one is “Train, Train.” I mean, you can’t be upset at a bluegrass song about a train, for one, but also that album means so much to me. You have this woman who has conquered every genre, has hits on so many different charts, and for her to come back to bluegrass — and I always make sure to emphasize the “back” to bluegrass because she’s been based in this. Her music since day one has been bluegrass music, the mountain music, as she calls it. 

And the band on that record, the band that she toured with doing promo for that record, they were ridiculous! Chris Thile was in the band, if Chris Thile wasn’t, Sam Bush was. Jim Mills — it’s everybody. Jerry Douglas. This stacked roster of bluegrass pickers and then she takes that band to like, the CMA awards. To see bluegrass in primetime, in the mainstream like that always means so much to those of us who have always loved bluegrass first and foremost. I keep beating the drum of, “Induct Dolly Parton into the Bluegrass Hall of Fame! Induct Dolly Parton into the Bluegrass Hall of Fame!” I think it’s a no-brainer, and “Train, Train” is the perfect distillation of that for me. 

Totally! You know, it’s interesting, what I remember is being in the UK — we went to the UK to shadow her for the premiere of 9 to 5 the musical — and on the way to the show I had to be in the car [with her] posse from the Dollywood Foundation and the Imagination Library, like David Dotson and some of these folks. They all were echoing basically what you just said. That album, more than any other album of hers, is most meaningful to the people around her. I think a lot of people feel like you feel. I don’t want to say it was one of her less successful [records], but it didn’t have the crazy crossover [appeal.] That album meant a lot to a lot of people. 

Do you have another one? Maybe to close us out? One more for you, one more for me. 

Sure, let’s see. I’ll give you a choice and you can tell me which one will be more interesting. “Love is Like a Butterfly” or “He’s Alive.” 

Oh shoot, do both.

Okay, I’ll do both in one shot. So, “He’s Alive” is not the kind of song I’d ordinarily choose to put on, as a — I’ll be completely transparent — godless liberal. I come from a country that was torn apart by religion and my parents are scientists, so when we came from Lebanon my parents were like, “Don’t you damn set foot in a church!” [Laughs]

The first time I heard “He’s Alive” I got goosebumps. I hadn’t been that moved by a song in a long time. We were driving from Knoxville to Dollywood, actually, with one of Dolly’s biggest fans, and she put that song on for us. It was crazy, driving through the hills seeing signs like “Jesus saves you” and “Jesus loves you.” Then that song comes on and, as you know, the first few minutes are kind of a little bit overblown and orchestral and there’s this bombast going on, but when the chorus and the gospel chorus come in? Oh my god. That is more intense than any techno DJ drop. We were all just pinned to our seats for that. It feels like she’s alive, right? [Laughs] 

I played it for my wife and my family the other day and they were like, “You like this?” But when it gets to the chorus they were like, “Oh, I get it.” 

I’ll throw in “Love is Like a Butterfly” because when she had a string of number ones going from Dolly the “girl singer” to being Dolly the superstar, that was one [important song.] I don’t know, there’s something about her voice on that song. She’s describing this almost trance of love, she’s in love with someone and she’s weightless and entranced the way a butterfly is in the wind. The song isn’t as poetic as some of her others, but there’s something in the way she sings it that I just feel what she’s describing without even hearing the words. Something about her voice that is so… it literally flies. It’s like a butterfly. Her voice captures that. I’m so mystified by her voice on that recording. 

I think my last choice would be, “Why’d You Come in Here Lookin’ Like That,” not only because it’s just a really good jukebox song — it is a perfect rollicking country song for a night at the dive bar. But also I realized — I’m openly gay, I’m a career banjo player who happens to moonlight (during the day) as a music writer, and so I went through this whole dynamic [when I was younger] of discovering my sexuality after I had already been in this music for my whole life. I realized, “Oh wait, I don’t think I belong here. I don’t think this space is for me. I play banjo, I love bluegrass.”

Something that I really appreciate about Dolly, from long ago, before I even knew she was a queer icon — and rightly so! — I could project my queerness onto and into her art and see myself in it. There’s something about “Why’d You Come in Here Lookin’ Like That” that’s just like, “Why does this straight man have to come up in my business and remind me that he’s unavailable to me?” That’s what I hear listening to that song, and it’s funny that I could go down a list of like ten other Dolly songs that feel like that to me. That feel like the queer experience realized through Dolly’s lens. 

That’s really interesting… how so many of her songs create that space, so you can read it that way. I love that you have a list that goes beyond that. I might have to call you back and ask you to elaborate on that. [Laughs]

It was something that I really didn’t want to have this conversation happen without mentioning. I mean, even if you don’t count the rhinestones and the false nails and the big boobs, and everything. Boiled down to just nuts and bolts, and thinking of her as just a songwriter, she’s still allowing space for people to see their own experiences in her music. That’s not a very common thing in country. It is because heartbreak is all through country and everybody’s heart gets broken all the time, but other than that it really takes that sort of [approach] — well, what you’re talking about through this whole entire project. She touches on all of these issues that are sort of endemic to our culture, in a way that’s so organic that we ingest them almost without realizing it until now, in retrospect, I look back thinking, “Well of course she’s a queer icon, she’s creating space for us to relate to her music.” Even if it’s coming from such a specific place. 

She, as a songwriter like you say, has created that space. Even without having to look at the persona in any way. 

She still has not gotten her due as a songwriter, and it’s painful at times. To see that be such a big part of what you’re doing [is important.]

Yeah, I appreciate that, that’s where we start the series is taking her seriously as a songwriter, cause I agree. Robert Oermann said in one of our episodes that if she had been born two hundred years ago she’d be Mozart. (I think maybe he means more than two hundred.) Because she’s that touched by that creative spirit. That’s never been acknowledged. Bob Dylan gets it, Johnny Cash gets it, but she hasn’t. 


Photo of Jad Abumrad: Bo Jacober
Illustration: Christine de Carvalho

WATCH: Yola Makes Her Grand Ole Opry Debut

Bold, brilliant, beautiful, and British — these are just a few words that describe the music of singer/songwriter Yola. 2019 has been monumental for the new queen of country soul from across the sea as she collaborated with Black Keys’ founder and Nashville hotshot producer Dan Auerbach to produce her solo debut, Walk Through Fire.

Her powerful voice and old school styling reinvigorate the tradition of combining country and soul music, a classic bridging of two seemingly unrelated musical traditions; and an accomplishment Yola’s musical heroes Charley Pride and Dolly Parton would admire. Among her more recent success, Yola was featured in a song from The Highwomen’s first album and in September, she made her debut on country music’s most famous stage.

Watch as Yola shows us around Nashville and takes us behind the scenes of her Grand Ole Opry debut.


Photo Credit: Alysse Gafkjen

Old Crow Medicine Show: “Time to Start Doing Exactly What We Feel Like Doing” (Part 1 of 2)

I can still remember the first time I saw Old Crow Medicine Show live. It was a sweltering summer night in Nashville around 2008 (back before the bachelorettes and Bird scooters) and they played from a massive barge moored at Riverfront Park. The thing was huge — far too big for six skinny street musicians to budge — but I swear it moved while they stomped and hollered, the Cumberland rolling by lazily behind them.

I was familiar with the band and already loved the unapologetic mix of tradition and edgy intensity, but that live show was revelatory. It gave me a new appreciation for the sense of community Old Crow was trying to forge, so it’s always surprised me that they didn’t record live albums. That has finally changed with this month’s release of Live at the Ryman.

Backstage at the Grand Ole Opry House on another hot summer night, front man Ketch Secor spoke with BGS about the project, why Old Crow is just now getting around to a live album, and what their style of music needs most right now.

BGS: Part of the idea of this album is that Old Crow has played the Ryman over 40 times. For a band that started out busking in the Northeast, how does it feel wrap your head around that?

Ketch Secor: Actually, I wish I had a real count because Lord knows I’ve played there more than 40 times. I think that’s how many times we’ve headlined, but if you add them all up I bet it’s a triple-digit number. We’ve been openers there for Dolly Parton back in 2002 for, like, a daytime show. We’ve done a lot of film and television there, all kinds of awards shows. It always felt like the place to shoot for — it’s the moon, the Ryman Auditorium, and we were always a shoot-for-the-moon kind of band because we figured “Well, we’re not supposed to be here anyway, so we might as well try and go as far with it as we can.”

You self-released one live album in 2001, and then nothing else until now. Why did it take 18 years to do another, since the live show has always been the foundation of what you guys do?

Oh, I think because we’ve always tried to put out a new studio record every couple of years, and here at the 21-year mark it’s probably time to start doing exactly what we feel like doing.

You haven’t been doing that the whole time?

Nah, not with those studio records. There’s a lot of stuff you’ve gotta do. Yeah, we always did it “our way” in the fact that we always played our own music. But just being in the music business means doing it everybody else’s way.

So you had to make a few compromises here and there?

Oh yeah, there was a lot of playing the game in ways that never seemed to pan out, but it never stopped us. That was just the way it was, and we were impressionable, so that’s what we did. We did it the way we were advised to do it.

Can you elaborate a little?

Like playing Napster. Doing shows for radio programmers in L.A. who never played us. Trying to make videos for CMT that were never in rotation, ever. …Opening up for Carrie Underwood at [Country Radio Seminar], it’s like, “What were we doing there?” Those guys, they might have liked it, but they were never gonna play it. And I don’t care if they like it, I want them to fucking play it, or I don’t want to play that show.

So now that you feel freed up to do it your way, what’s that look like?

Live at the Ryman. Here we are singing a Merle Travis song! Here we are singing our songs or selling popcorn and tickets and people brought their buck-dance shoes! I mean, we’ve set beer records at the Ryman. I’d rather sell beer at the Ryman than sell records! …I’d rather sell beer at the Ryman than digital streams! What’s the fun in that?

“Tell it to Me,” “Methamphetamine,” those are interesting songs to present because rural America has a new drug problem going on with opioids. Why is it important for you guys to sing songs like that, especially at the Ryman?

Well, “Tell It to Me” was recorded in Johnson City in 1928 I think. The band that brought that song to the studio had been an original backing band for Jimmie Rodgers… Anyway, I’m just saying this because if you like country music, you should probably know that drug songs have been part of the canon since recording studios first illuminated a red light bulb and said, “You’re on.”

I don’t think people do know that. We’re just now starting to get radio songs with pot references that people don’t flip out over.

Yeah, I mean it was blow in the ‘20s and now it’s pot in the 2010s. And then “Meth” is a really different kind of song because it’s more topical. We recorded it a long time ago but it seemed important to bring it back and revamp it, make it more intense, and Charlie Worsham plays some really great electric guitar on it. It just feels like it’s knocking on your door, like a hurricane.

Tell me about doing “Louisiana Woman, Mississippi Man” with Margo Price.

We were down in Oxford, Mississippi, doing a show with Margo. She was opening up for us down there near Ole Miss, and we were looking for a song that seemed to fit, so we tried that one. Our duo thing felt really good, and I feel like I’m a little bit in the Conway range — and she’s definitely in the Loretta range — so it worked out pretty good. We heard the playback we thought it sounded great so we wanted to put it out. I saw her at the grocery store the other day and she said she loved it.

Why did you include a song like “C.C. Rider,” which has Lee Oskar playing harmonica?

I really love his band War. We did “Lowrider” onstage at the Ryman, too, maybe that will come out on Volume 2. But what I really loved about that moment on the Ryman recording is that it has twin harps. You know the old guys don’t have their pictures up here [gestures at photos of Opry stars on the dressing room wall]. …But the story of the twin harp playing of the Crook Brothers — Herman and Louis Crook — lives a long time, because Herman and Louis lived, like, into their 90s. What they were great at was two harmonicas playing in unison.

That’s interesting. In your music you’re often looking to the past for inspiration, but what do you think is the future of string bean …. er, string band music, Americana?

You just answered it, man. We need a new Stringbean. Nobody’s acting like that and that’s what’s missing. Who’s gonna be the clown? What happened to the kind of entertainment that’s self-effacing? Everybody on this wall loves the clowns, but none of them are. They’re “the vocalists” and we’re supposed to take them seriously. I’d love to see this genre — whether it’s country or Americana or whatever — just not take itself so damn seriously. Let’s just have a grand ole time. Let’s poke some fun at each other, and especially at ourselves. I’d love to see that.

Editor’s Note: Read part 2 of our interview with Old Crow Medicine Show’s Ketch Secor.


Illustration: Zachary Johnson

You Need to Listen to More Indigenous Artists

American roots music wouldn’t exist without Indigenous people. Full stop.

Just as Black voices and stories largely informed the creation of these genres of music — old-time, bluegrass, blues, Americana, folk, etc. — Indigenous voices and stories often informed those black creators as well as those of greater privilege and power. Erasure prevents many examples of these cross-pollinations and accurate attributions from being readily accessible today, but Indigenous people are still here. They continually carve out spaces for themselves in these circles and these communities that directly spawned from them, though they continue to exclude Natives today.

Even as conversations surrounding diversity, equity, and inclusion permeate the furthest reaches of roots music communities around the world, Indigenous identities and perspectives are still routinely left in the shadows.

We can do better.

Part of “doing better” is making a concerted effort, whenever we are able, to expand our perspectives to include as many Indigenous people and their vantage points as possible. So, let’s return to the idea that American roots music was created by Indigenous people. Such as it is, if one is a roots music fan, it’s quite easy to infuse one’s day-to-day with Indigenous folks, as evidenced by the following list of Indigenous artists, performers, instrumentalists, and musicians that you NEED to be listening to.

Cary Morin

An award-winning, renowned blues guitarist Cary Morin is a Crow tribal member who has performed around the globe. “…I could say that I’m really the only finger-style Crow guy on the entire planet,” he told BGS in a 2017 interview. “That’s unique. But we all can say that, to some degree. We all have unique things that make us who we are…” He counts David Bromberg, Norman Blake, Tony Rice, and Trey Anastasio among his influences, but his sound is truly uniquely his.


Lakota John

Lakota John (Locklear) opened his set at our 2019 iteration of Shout & Shine at IBMA with a land acknowledgment and a captivating piece on Native American flute. His music nimbly toggles between old-time blues, modern acoustic blues, folk, down home country and more, while remaining firmly rooted in and informed by his Lumbee and Lakota heritage. We interviewed Lakota John just last month, in anticipation of Shout & Shine.


R. Carlos Nakai

Possibly the world’s foremost performer on Native American flute, R. Carlos Nakai began his career in music trained in classical trumpet. He’s received eleven Grammy nominations and his iconic album, Canyon Trilogy, went platinum, becoming the first album by a solo Native American flutist to ever do so.


Lula Wiles

Folk trio Lula Wiles cover a lot of the same ground as their millennial-aged string band and Americana counterparts, but with the grounding, legitimizing force of Indigenous perspective, brought to the group by bassist Mali Obomsawin, a member of the Abenaki Nation. Obomsawin and bandmates Isa Burke and Ellie Buckland spoke to BGS about Indigenous rights and the group’s approach to writing socially conscious material earlier this year.


Celeigh Cardinal 

Z. Lupetin, host of BGS podcast The Show On The Road, called Métis musician Celeigh Cardinal “the high priestess of Canadiana soul” in a February episode. Cardinal is also the first Indigenous radio personality on Alberta’s CKUA Radio Network. “The Devil is a Blue-Eyed Man” is the lead track off of her most recent album, Stories From a Downtown Apartment.


Jeremy Dutcher

A classically-trained, Canadian, Indigenous tenor, Jeremy Dutcher creates sweeping, cinematic art-folk with pop twinges, jazz undertones, and often lofty, operatic melodies. Perhaps the most striking aspect of Dutcher’s music, however, is his overt presentation of the fact that its intended audience is first and foremost his people, the Wolastoqiyik. His representations of queerness are firmly rooted in the traditions of his tribe and his language — he is one of only around 100 people who speak Wolastoq — which has no gendered pronouns.


Buffy Sainte-Marie

Academy Award-winning singer-songwriter Buffy Sainte-Marie has been touring and performing professionally since the early ’60s. Her accolades, awards, and accomplishments are vast and varied, touching almost every nook and cranny of this content in almost every medium — and as an activist, as well. In 2015 the Americana Music Association and the First Amendment Center awarded Sainte-Marie the Spirit of Americana Free Speech in Music Award.


Raye Zaragoza

Singer/songwriter Raye Zaragoza has a message to deliver through all of her music. “In the River” was written during the violence at the Standing Rock Sioux reservation protests over the Dakota Access Pipeline being constructed across Indigenous lands and sacred waters. Zaragoza explains in an interview with Billboard in 2018, “Being a young, brown girl who on one side of my family is immigrant (Mexican, Japanese, and Taiwanese), the other indigenous, I can help [but put] a voice and put words to the way so many people are feeling…”


Charly Lowry

In 2004 singer/songwriter Charly Lowry was a semi-finalist on American Idol, but over the past decade she rose to prominence with Dark Water Rising, a North Carolina-based, soulful blues band of Indigenous folks. Her solo music is entrancing and expansive, with an ethereal quality only matched by the conviction with which she sings. This performance of “Brownskin” is a perfect example.

Led Kaapana

Grammy nominee and Native Hawaiian Led Kaapana is one of the world’s foremost experts in slack key guitar, or Kī Hō’alu, for which a guitar’s strings are detuned (til “slack”) to an open chord. His playing reminds of Chet Atkins and Phil Keaggy and references blues, ragtime, and even bluegrass flatpicking at times, too — which makes sense considering he’s worked and collaborated with Chet Atkins himself, and folks like Dolly Parton, Jerry Douglas, and Alison Krauss, too.

To wrap up we should note, this is an infinitesimal, inherently myopic attempt at a cross-section of Indigenous artists in American roots music spaces. There are so so so so many more to discover. You should poke around the Native American Music Awards website for more ideas, and a historical/archival look, too.


Photo of Celeigh Cardinal: Megan Kemshead Photography