Steep Canyon Rangers Are “A String Band Again”

Twenty-six years into its life as a band, the Steep Canyon Rangers get back to basics on Next Act, unplugging their amps and instruments in favor of an acoustic setup with minimal percussion. It marks a return to the foundations that first set the group up for success.

Releasing May 22, Next Act is the second studio effort to feature guitarist and vocalist Aaron Burdett, who joined the Rangers in 2022 following the departure of founding member Woody Platt. In addition to appearing on their 2023 album, Morning Shift, Burdett is part of the Rangers’ 2024 live record, which features several of his own compositions, too.

Alongside the band’s other members – Graham Sharp (banjo), Mike Guggino (mandolin), Nicky Sanders (fiddle), Mike Ashworth (percussion, Dobro), and Barrett Smith (bass) – Next Act brings Burdett into the fold even more, with six tracks written or co-written by him. “Roll of the Dice” catalogs Burdett’s early days traveling with the band and “Hard Times” finds him reflecting on adversity and how moments that once felt overwhelming can later soften in memories.

According to Ashworth, the growing role of Burdett in the band is simply a carryover of having multiple voices contributing to their songwriting over the past decade, with Sharp being the other primary force of late.

“Aaron came into that role really well with a bunch of his own material while also taking lead on some of the stuff Graham had written as well,” Ashworth explains. “After incorporating more of his own stuff on that live record, the next step was to up the ante even more on this album by bringing even more of his older work into the studio.”

Steep Canyon Rangers’ Mike Ashworth and Barrett Smith caught up with BGS to delve into how books inspired two of the album’s songs, how a road trip instigated “Halfway To Reno” featuring Edie Brickell, what remains on the group’s bucket list, and more.

How did Aaron’s level of involvement on this record grow compared to Morning Shift?

Barrett Smith: It feels like Aaron has always been here – he just fits with us so well. He’s become such a close friend and a great person to work and make art with. We’re just excited with everything having to do with the band right now, and Aaron is a big part of that. Things went well when we worked together on Morning Shift, even though we were considerably less worn-in and stable than we are now on this album. We’re really cooking right now and feel great together as a group.

Mike Ashworth: From a relationship standpoint, things have gelled much further than I’d ever hoped. It does feel like Aaron’s been a member for more like 10 years, not three. On this record you can see the band in more of a way that feels like a group that’s sure of itself. The last time we were in the studio we arranged in more of a rock ‘n’ roll style where everybody reinforces the same rhythms, but on Next Act we gave everyone a lot more room to explore their own parts. It’s indicative of how much we trust each other now and how much growth artistically the band has seen in the last few years.

BS: Another good indicator of the growth is that on Morning Shift we worked with a producer, Darrell Scott, even though we enjoy and produce ourselves really well. But then when Next Act came along, we felt like we had enough chemistry together that we could move forward without an outside producer this time. Doing that allows us more space to bounce ideas around and feed off each other, which we feel like is our greatest superpower as a band.

As well as y’all work together, it’s hard to pass up a collaboration with someone like Darrell Scott when it presents itself!

MA: I imagine it’d be hard to come into a band like this and produce, because oftentimes we have to be careful to not already be done with everything. As a result, we intentionally leave certain things unarranged or on the table to give them something to do or else we’ll just wind up taking everything away from them.

BS: I remember Darrell, a number of times, looking around and saying, “Y’all are pretty weird with how you do things.” One time when we were recording, I remember him stopping and asking us if we always had so many opinions about each song that we communicated to each other. Eventually he started telling us to just “shut up and play” – that was one of the catchphrases of our studio time together. [Laughs] If you have an idea, we want you to be confident that it’s going to be heard. There’s a lot of trust in the whole system.

MA: Another thing Darrell pointed out was, “Y’all really care so much about the story.” He’d never heard an entire band comment on the lyrics and stories behind each song like we do – whether it’s where to punch things up or down or when to add harmonies.

That’s the cool thing about this new record. It delves even more into that exploratory realm of the band trying to sell the story – and the whole band, not just one singer, absorbing what it’s all about.

Tell me about naming the album Next Act. Is that a nod to this full circle journey that’s brought you back to being more of a traditional string band?

MA: The intention was twofold, but that was definitely a part of it. As the title of the song, it’s about picking yourself up, moving into a new phase of life, and embracing change. However, Next Act for the band is us reflecting on our change and growth and the ability to reveal what our potential is at any given moment. Because of that it became a pretty conscious decision to make it the title of the record.

BS: On Arm In Arm [in 2020], it was fun getting to mess around in the studio with organs, electric guitars and all these special guests – it was like our own mini-Brian-Wilson-like experience. But on this record, we wanted to bring it back home and return to being a string band again. Because of that, this new record doesn’t have any electric instruments on it. There is percussion, but it’s not a full drum set. We’ve been doing a lot more stuff around one mic at our live shows recently and feel like these new songs are very representative of that.

MA: We’ve all had amps and drums buzzing around our heads for years, so we wanted to remind ourselves that this thing still starts around a campfire and can always come back to that. I don’t think fans will know what to call what we’re going to do on any given night, because even we won’t [know] until we see the room and start to feel the vibe of the city and people there. Doing this record has allowed us to rediscover the foundation of what we are when you strip everything away. That’s been a really cool and unnerving process to get out from behind all the extra noise and see that when you take those things away, the art is still really good.

There’s a couple songs on this record – “Back of Beyond” and “Circling the Drain” – that were inspired by books, Barbara Kingsolver’s Demon Copperhead and Horace Kephart’s Our Southern Highlanders, respectively. With that in mind, how would you say literature informs the band’s songwriting, not only with this record, but overall as well?

MA: Graham actually wrote both those songs, but I do want to speak about Demon Copperhead, because we all just absolutely loved that book. We’re not just a band, we’re also a close circle of friends, and with that comes shared mutual interests, like books. I’m so glad that Graham is my friend, because he can write things that I wish I had the ability to say. But once something is written, whether it be a book or a song, it doesn’t belong to [the writer] anymore, it belongs to you, [the reader/listener]. That’s the really cool thing about art.

I love that Graham is a voracious reader because we wind up getting a lot of great songs out of it, like these two. Damon [Demon Copperhead’s protagonist] is such a wonderful, resilient character that reminds me so much of people I grew up with – and I’m sure Barrett would agree.

BS: As a writer, artist, and creator, I think it’s a good habit to have different areas you pull inspiration from to keep you out of a rut. For Graham a big one is literature. Demon Copperhead threw all of us for a loop as it was getting passed around the bus. When we found out he was basing a song off it we jumped right on it.

As for “Back of Beyond” and Our Southern Highlanders, I think that book is essential reading for any Western North Carolinian. “Back of Beyond” was simply a term that came from meaning the middle of nowhere out in the country, in a place where you can go for days without seeing anyone or speaking a word.

“Back of Beyond” is a song that’s been lingering with y’all for several albums before finally getting recorded now. What made Next Act the right spot for it to land?

BS: During my time in the band, I would say that “Back of Beyond” is the biggest survivor, in terms of songs that have stuck around and taken on many different forms before finally making it onto a record. We actually wanted to include it on Morning Shift, but Darrell Scott didn’t think it would be a good fit, so we didn’t. We may have even called that album “Back of Beyond” if it had been on it. But when that happened, we knew it would reappear on our next record. After it missed the cut we all really wanted it for this one, which is why we call it a survivor.

I was also curious about the song “Halfway to Reno,” which came from a roadtrip you [Mike] had with Aaron from California to a gig in Reno, Nevada. Is that right?

MA: That’s right. I think Aaron was behind the wheel that day. From my view, he’s someone that is more influenced by an experience or feeling than anything else, which he can then take like putty and mold into a piece of art. That’s the beauty of being in this band, these guys will come up with these nuggets – and if it hits the Steep Canyon grinder and comes out the other end still in one piece, then they’ll take it and finish writing it.

Then when we were mixing that song we kept envisioning a high voice on it, but couldn’t figure out exactly who to ask to fill the role. Then we sent it to our dear friend Edie Brickell and she ended up putting the icing on the cake. The song is about one lover trying to get back to the other and the little things that you carry through your day – especially when you’re separated by distance – that keep you tied to home. She really understood the assignment and put this beautiful piece on top of the tune that I absolutely love.

How did the opportunity to work with Edie on the tune come about?

MA: We first met her over a decade ago through Steve Martin. He would send her banjo ideas and she’d send them back to him with lyrics over them. That quickly evolved into a fantastic record produced by Peter Asher called Love Has Come For You in 2013. But touring together is where we really befriended her, during late nights on the bus and in the dressing room. I remember being drawn in by her spontaneity and creativity and the way that she can write a song in the moment about that moment. It’s almost like a fortune teller.

Since that first encounter we’ve recorded many times together through the years and she’s become not just one of my favorite female artists, but one of my favorite artists, period. She’s just so heartfelt every time she adds to something. It comes from a real place and that’s harder and harder to find these days.

Speaking of Steve, what did it mean to have him featured with you on “Heart’s the Only Compass”? I think this is his first time on an album or single with you since 2020’s “California.”

BS: It’s always a huge honor any time we’re able to work with Steve. He’s an iconic American art figure, so to have the opportunity to create with him is a treat. When we decided we wanted clawhammer banjo on that tune we tossed a few other names around first, but it all came back to Steve, because the prowess he has on the instrument is second to none.

From what I understand, you reconstructed “The Kindest Thing” in the studio at the behest of Nicky. Tell me about that process and how the final song differs from what you were initially going for?

BS: That song took on a bunch of different forms in the studio, as our songs often do. At one point it had this Don Williams, cool country kind of feel and Nicky heard that pretty late in the game, but didn’t care for it. Instead he kept talking about “Going to California” by Led Zeppelin, which led to Mike Guggino kicking off this riff similar to the one in that song that wound up setting the foundation for what the song eventually turned into. Ultimately, it was a good decision on Nicky’s part.

Steep Canyon has been together for 26 years now. With that in mind, is there anything that remains on your musical bucket list?

BS: The band hasn’t won a GRAMMY since I’ve been a part of it, so I’d love to see that happen – maybe even with this album. [Laughs] Aside from that, it’s hard to think of specific venues, not that there aren’t any, but because we’ve gotten to play so many of our dream places already. My bucket list is mainly just keeping on and continuing to discover and hone my role in this band.

What has bringing this album to life taught you about yourselves?

MA: I thought I’d become more patient as I became older, but I actually think I’m becoming less. [Laughs] In all seriousness, this session taught me to slow down again. I kept wanting to schedule and have it done sooner rather than later, but instead, the cycle for this record was one of the longest we’ve ever endured. In the end I think it’s exactly what it wanted and I’m grateful for how it got me to take it easy and be more in the moment.

BS: Even though we’ve been playing together for so long, working on this record brought me a new level of comfort and trust with the band. I have more faith in the people in the band, what we’re doing and my place in it than ever before, which is such a good feeling. I’m really enjoying where we are right now and am excited to see how we keep building upon it.


Photo Credit: Jay Strausser

Our Jamgrass column is brought to you in partnership with Preston Thompson Guitars.

BGS 5+5: Heather Taylor

Artist: Heather Taylor
Hometown: Rochester, New York
Latest album: Undercurrents
Personal nicknames (or rejected band names): HT, HTCreates

What’s your favorite memory from being on stage?

I was playing a long gig, the PA was giving us trouble and it eventually stopped working. We still had a good chunk to go, though we could have stopped and gone home. Instead, we unplugged and asked everyone to gather close. Happily the audience did and the room turned to magic! We gave it our all, playing and singing and dancing away, totally unencumbered by any tech. I tried different things with my voice and ways to approach the songs. I was raw and felt so much back from the audience members. I can still feel moments in the night when I decided to take certain leaps.

Do you remember the first moment you wanted to be a musician?

There fortunately have been many stages that I’ve rededicated my life to music. My parents were both musicians and it’s been engrained since I was little. The first moment as a young adult when I started to “get it” had to be when I was in high school traveling with an orchestra in Italy (I played classical flute through college). We got off a plane ride and within a few hours went to play a concert.

We were tired and disoriented, but through the concert we could see something happening; the audience members were engaged and emotionally present. There was one particular Italian man who was moved to tears and thanking us for our musicality and passion. I remember I was blown away. I saw that music helped connect us to people in a faraway land, in an intimate and real way. It helped me realize music was a bridge or universal language and I easily wanted more.

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

I’ve thought about this a lot and I’ve tried on different mission suits! The answer usually comes back to cultivating connection to the self and bridging the gap to others. Simply enough I’d like to make good music and continue creating cool things. If that sparks collaboration or inspiration in someone else that would be the best!

What is your dream pairing of a meal and musician?

Sushi, wontons and miso ginger soup with Rhiannon Giddens would be inspirational and delicious!

What rituals do you have either in the studio or before a show?

I usually have a good amount of conversation with myself throughout the day, which varies from coaching my mind into relaxation if I’m super excited, to hyping myself up if I’m feeling tired. There’s always a sweet spot I like being in that I can access the music better. I do this through a quick yoga session, breath-work, listening to someone inspiring, connecting with someone or reminding myself to just get into the feeling of the music and have fun. I also make a point to think about the listener, keeping in mind I’m coming there to share something with them.


Photo credit: Emily Nichols

Bright Star Does Right by Bluegrass on Broadway

Broadway, lately, has been kind to the chorus it never saw coming, to adventurous works that look beyond traditional theater tropes and highly trained vibratos for a hook that lasts long after that curtain goes up. Hamilton, Lin-Manuel Miranda’s revolutionary hip-hop musical sensation, is the poster child of this: With its explosive performances and Roots-produced, Grammy award-winning soundtrack, it set a new standard for what the modern musical could do in terms of reconnecting theater with popular culture and keeping that life line intact. Waitress, the new musical based on the 2007 film starring Keri Russell, holds that pop connection close, as its music and lyrics were penned by Sara Bareilles of “Love Song” fame.

While shows like Les Misérables, Wicked, and The Lion King continue to draw crowds to their respective spots in Times Square every night, Broadway’s audiences are clearly clamoring for the current hits whose soundtracks make for seamless additions to their Recently Played iTunes playlist. They want an experience that banks on the music before the drama — and that’s how Bright Star gives its audience what it’s looking for.

Bright Star, the musical collaboration of Steve Martin and singer/songwriter Edie Brickell, brings Americana into this conversation. Set in the hilly sprawl of North Carolina in the wake of World War II, its story follows Billy Cane, a newly anointed veteran who’s trying to find his voice as a writer having just returned from the battlefield. Shortly after he makes his way home, he’s off again, heading to Asheville in the hopes of securing a byline at the Asheville Southern Journal. Alice Murphy — the paper’s tough, terse, and hawk-eyed editor — reads one of Billy’s stories and pays him for his work, but doesn’t publish it: She offers Billy the opportunity to pitch her ideas until one sticks, and he spends the majority of Bright Star working toward that goal. Through flashbacks, we learn more about Alice — where she came from, the loves and losses that shaped the bubbly teenager who somehow turns into the stern woman Billy meets at the Journal — and that her life’s story syncs up with Billy’s in a way that neither one of them sees coming.

While the plot of Bright Star bounces between the aspirational journey of Billy’s and Alice’s painful trip down memory lane, the music is what lays a firm foundation for the folklore. With down-home arrangements, plenty of opportunities for its singers to showcase their ability to belt the hell out of a long-held high note, and the steely twang of the bluegrass band onstage throughout the program, the music of Bright Star is the anchoring force of the production — the backbone that keeps the decidedly PG storylines from broaching cheesy, try-hard territory in a venue that’s more than susceptible to that kind of family-friendly fun. This isn’t "Bluegrass by Disney" or anything, either: The arrangements are tight, the vocal lines are tough, and the accents steer clear of caricature territory (for the most part). By treating the band as a living, breathing set piece — and keeping them visible and active throughout the performance — Bright Star makes the importance of the music known, sending the not-so-subliminal message that the pickers and players backing the actors are just as pivotal to the story as Alice and Bobby are themselves. Carmen Cusack, as Alice, can summon hope and warmth (“Sun Is Gonna Shine”) as effortlessly as she can channel grief and despair (“Please, Don’t Take Him”), and the bright banjo riffs and sad bass lows do so in kind.

Bright Star may not break new ground, as far as its story goes, and the music, while lovely, isn’t especially earth-shattering, though it’s great to see an acoustic guitar and mandolin treated so venerably on the Great White Way. But like Hamilton, Waitress, and other musicals that have audiences rethinking the role popular music has to play in storytelling, Bright Star succeeds in working music — in this case, of a folkier, bluegrass ilk — into its fabric while pushing boundaries and expectations for both the genre and the artform. Broadway’s finally down with beats and poppy hooks. It’s about damn time it picked up the banjo, too.