LISTEN: Scott Cook, “Rollin’ to You”

Artist: Scott Cook
Hometown: Edmonton, Alberta, Canada
Song: “Rollin’ to You”
Album: Tangle of Souls
Release Date: August 7, 2020

In Their Words: “On August 7, I’ll be releasing my seventh album, Tangle of Souls. It comes packaged in a 240-page, clothbound hardcover book, the apotheosis of a long-running, possibly unhealthy obsession with liner notes. This is the first of those songs I wrote — yodeling and laughing to myself in a rented room in Chicago — and it planted the seed of an idea that led to making a string band record. The aesthetic is often the first thing I have in mind, before I even know what the album wants to be about, and this time around I wanted a string band, with a fiddle, because the fiddle is the electric guitar of acoustic music.

“I’d been touring a fair bit in Australia with Liz Frencham, a killer upright bass player with a studio in her backyard, and on one of those tours we got to talking about making a record. I brought over fellow Albertan and longtime collaborator Bramwell Park to play banjo and mandolin, and Liz connected with an Aussie fiddler named Esther Henderson, who I’d never met. I named the band ‘Scott Cook and the She’ll Be Rights’ after an Aussie expression meaning ‘it’ll be OK’ or ‘don’t worry about it.’ (You might say it’s somewhere on the spectrum between nonchalance and negligence.) We arranged the songs along that tour and cut the record at the end of it, then I spent the next year or so writing the liner notes. 🙂 ” — Scott Cook


Photo credit: Kate Baker

MIXTAPE: Daniel Rodriguez’s Songs of Authenticity

I love all types of music and song. How beautiful a thing to hear the invisible insides of someone shared outwardly. A culmination of dynamic forces, experiences and sensibilities dialed into pulsating, Pythagorean waveforms, giving color to the space in between. The only catch is we have to trust what we’re hearing is authentic. Whether it’s the tonal intention of a singer or the specific touch of an instrumentalist, the song has to move me in some way or else I’m changing the station. Authenticity is subjective to each listener where no authority exists, though goosebumps, tears, movement, lofty notions and inspiration have always been my litmus tests to playing something thrice or more.

Here’s a list of songs that have moved me in some way worthy of mention. Also, if you’re so moved, check out my album Sojourn of Burning Sun out on August 28. — Daniel Rodriguez

Bill Monroe – “Uncle Pen”

From what I hear, this song is Bill giving gratitude and paying tribute to his actual uncle, Pen [James Pendleton Vandiver]. Pen played the fiddle at family gatherings and inspired Bill to join the musical world. The song structure of “Uncle Pen,” though only a few chords, is kind of complex. It’s a jubilant song with a great melody and has those goosebumping, Appalachian harmonies that Bill and his band often showcased. Probably what I like most about the song is that it appears to skip a beat before the head of each verse. It happens during a G run directly after the chorus that impossibly lands at the head of the next section. Simple genius.

Gregory Alan Isakov – “Amsterdam”

I like pretty much all of Gregory’s songs and his recordings. Catching his band live or him solo is a remarkable experience. I’m lucky to call him a longtime friend and I keep my fandom of his music separate from that. Gregory paints imagery that is most times not specific, which leaves you, as a listener, more in an abstract state of mind. Yet he threads a powerful emotion throughout, which his voice and arrangements unavoidably invoke. He uses imagery of a woman often, which comes across as more a mythical character of the sacred feminine, rather than one of a romantic endeavor. This is apparent in “Amsterdam”: “That howling wind, she’s waving hi, her other hand’s in mine.” The song ascends towards the end in some epic way when Greg moves his voice up an octave and sings “Churches and trains, they all look the same to me now / They shoot you some place, while we ache to come home somehow.” Goosebumps to follow.

Bruce Springsteen – “Youngstown”

The Boss has never failed to paint us the pictures of the struggling American working class. Our popular culture seems to only highlight the celebrities and billionaires, and yet The Boss celebrates and sheds light on the untold stories of the common man, the backbone of our culture. His stories are always rich with the American story, full of its hypocrisies and triumphs. “Youngstown” paints a very real picture of the uphill and endless bogging down of industry and war. The arrangement has a suiting Americana feel, stripped down and intimate. The pedal steel and fiddle give an eerie voice to the emotion of the character in the story who sings, “My sweet Jenny, I’m sinking down, here darling in Youngstown.”

John Prine – “Lake Marie”

When John Prine passed on earlier this year I cried constantly for three days. I’ve been lucky enough to catch him live more than a few times at festivals that we both played. The authenticity in his delivery has healing properties that only a few possess. John touches on all the hidden sadnesses and joys of humanity, and gives color to the seemingly opaque hidden corners of the human condition. “Lake Marie” is a special song with all the ingredients: New love, tenured love, relationship struggles and cold-blooded murder. John delivers this story in a very light-hearted and humorous way. He speaks the verses and accentuates certain parts, which become vital to the song’s DNA. The chorus is maybe the best chorus ever written, beautiful and joyous, juxtaposed with a very brutal and tragic story.

Levon Helm – “The Mountain” (written by Steve Earle)

Just like any song that Levon sings of someone else’s, he makes it his own. That is very much the case with “The Mountain” by Steve Earle. Steve recorded a great version of this song with Del McCoury, but my favorite version is the one Levon sings. It’s about the coal industry brutalizing the natural wonder of a homeplace. Removing mountaintops from where once majestic mountains stood. Filling in swimming holes that you once could cool off from the summer’s heat within its cool mountain runoff. Levon brings you there to those mountains, and he takes you to that swimming hole, and then he shows you the pain of it being no more.

Gillian Welch – “Everything is Free”

When speaking of Gillian’s songs it would be prudent to also mention David Rawlings. The line is blurred when trying to understand who wrote what — and it’s fitting that their voices in harmony become an entity of grace and grit that is alive and well. “Everything Is Free” is a song that hits home for the majority of musicians and artists who are at large suffering in an age where the fruits of their labors are taken for granted. This is certainly reflected by our culture, which would ironically feel the worth of music in its absence. In regards to this, Gillian sings: “If there’s something that you wanna hear you can sing it yourself.”

Leon Bridges – “River”

I’m not a religious person, but I am spiritual. Even though Leon uses biblical terminology in this beautiful song of yearning, and being cleansed from your sins — it’s the intention of the song that shines through and transcends all the negative connotations that might come with organized religion. It’s the true Christian values that are evoked here, of actively wanting to become a better person. It sounds like it was recorded live around one mic in a big room and really captures a beautiful moment of music.

Bob Dylan – “Murder Most Foul”

Bob is my favorite artist and songwriter. I love all the phases of his expression. I don’t subscribe to picking a favorite era or compare everything he creates to what he produced in the 1960s. This brings us to “Murder Most Foul,” a recent release of his. It is a nearly seventeen-minute song that talks about the day and days that followed the assassination of John F. Kennedy. Bob beautifully describes this tragic and heightened moment in history, giving us a stream of consciousness of images peripherally and directly happening around the time of the assassination. The production of this song is very minimal which allows the lyrics to be absorbed and breathe.

Mandolin Orange – “Wildfire”

Growing up and residing in the hills of North Carolina, Mandolin Orange has lived and been more than aware of the culture that exists below the Mason-Dixon Line. Not buying into the rhetoric of those holding on to the nostalgia of the Confederacy, Mandolin Orange gives a historical and psychological look at the wildfire that unfortunately still is fueled today. “Wildfire” is a bit of medicine to us all, and carries a hope that some who might need the medicine most. Listen to this song that is served in the musical genre of its commonplace.

The Del McCoury Band – “Hot Wired” (written by Shawn Camp)

This song is a hoot. It’s very well-written, witty and might even spark a belly laugh or two. It talks about all the things the author’s girlfriend is capable of hot-wiring. My favorite lyric is “She might hot wire your Chevy, she might hot wire your Ford / And if she ever gets to Heaven she might hot wire the Lord.” Del breaks the bluegrass rules on this song and introduces an electric guitar after singing about his girlfriend hot-wiring his acoustic guitar to play like the “doggone Rolling Stones.”

Billie Holiday – “Strange Fruit” (written by Abel Meeropol)

This song is so powerful. Billie Holiday recorded it in 1939. The emotion and dynamics of her timing are delivered in a powerful and haunting way. The fruit that hangs from the trees is not fruit at all. [The song’s titular analogy references lynchings of Black folks.] It is perplexing to me that humanity can stoop so low to such an evil as to think one is inferior to another, where murder is rationalized within such a vitriolic mindset. In this specific case it is rationalized within the minds of pale complexion below the Mason-Dixon line. How those trees still stand and the fruit still hangs, though embedded within policy, social structures, the psychology of an unexamined people and history books with whole chapters missing. Music and song throughout time has been utilized to pass stories down and convey emotions. This is a song that passes down and conveys a traumatic truth; its shockwaves still crash on the shores of our everyday.

Josh Ritter – “Girl in the War”

This is one of my favorite songs. I’ve had the fortunate opportunity to play a bunch of shows with Josh and actually back him up on this song with my old band. I’ve heard him say in an interview that this song is about America. I’ll take his word for it. I’m not quite sure what the song is about myself, but I do know it’s a goosebumper. The recording of the song is stunning and I sure do like to play this song around the fire at gatherings.


Photo credit: Jesse Borrell

LISTEN: Veranda, “Yodel Bleu”

Artist: Veranda
Hometown: Montreal, QC, Canada
Song: “Yodel Bleu”
Album: Yodel Bleu
Release Date: May 29, 2020

In Their Words: “‘Yodel Bleu’ is a song about using yodeling to cure the blues! It tells the story of this girl who’s so down that the only thing that brings her joy is yodeling when she’s all by herself. And who could blame her? Because let’s face it, it’s hard to be blue when you’re yodeling. Maybe what we all need right now is a good dose of yodel therapy. Isn’t there an old saying that says ‘You can’t yodel in a minor key’? The song is also a tribute to the great Jimmie Rodgers and his classic ‘Blue Yodel’ song series.” — Catherine-Audrey Lachapelle and LĂ©andre Joly-Pelletier, Veranda


Photo credit: Kevin Beaulieu

WATCH: Zoe & Cloyd, “Where Do You Stand”

Artist: Zoe & Cloyd
Hometown: Asheville, North Carolina
Song: “Where Do You Stand”
Label: Organic Records

In Their Words: “‘Where Do You Stand’ is a commentary on the state of our national discourse. We had the idea for the line, ‘When all that’s left is left, right, or wrong’ in regards to the hyper-polarization we’ve been seeing for a while and we built the song from there. We wanted the song and video to be thought provoking and a call to action. Some people will always attempt to pit us against one another for personal and political gain but we can’t let divisive, inflammatory rhetoric win the day. For us to move forward, we must find common ground on which to build a path toward a just and sustainable future.

“We filmed the video not far from our house in Fairview, North Carolina, outside of Asheville. The old building with the painted tree is right along the road and we thought it was a quirky rural spot that contrasted nicely with the political imagery. The other location was an abandoned ball court that had some interesting delineated grass with a sort of ‘line in the sand’ vibe. It also looked a bit post-apocalyptic. The fence shots represent several concerns such as the border wall, the lack of voice and access in certain communities, and feelings of powerlessness to change the status quo.” — John Cloyd Miller


Photo credit: Sandlin Gaither

From Goat Rodeo to Songs of Comfort, Yo-Yo Ma Believes Music Builds Bridges

The world’s most famous cellist Yo-Yo Ma is spending the pandemic at home in Cambridge, Massachusetts, with his family. It has been a situation that he describes, rather humorously, as being an adjustment for everyone. “Two-thirds of my marriage has been on the road. Forty-two years and suddenly my wife sees me home every night, and every day and every morning.”

Yet he says the experience has been a real blessing, too. “All the tensions of being home and preparing to leave, or coming back home to recuperate and then leave again, are all gone,” he explains by phone, before adding “replaced by, of course, the incredible fractures and ruptures in our society.”

Besides pondering a “tsunami of crises,” Ma talks about the joys of getting the band back together — a lineup informally known as Goat Rodeo, which also encompasses Stuart Duncan, Edgar Meyer, Chris Thile, and special guest Aoife O’Donovan. This Artist of the Month interview is the fourth of four installments as BGS salutes the incredible and iconic musicians behind the ensemble’s second project, Not Our First Goat Rodeo.

BGS: Like the first album, Not Our First Goat Rodeo was recorded at James Taylor’s studio in the Berkshires. Was there a comfort level about returning there?

Totally. The studio is aesthetically beautiful. It is right there in the middle of the Berkshires, the middle of the woods, and it’s a barn that has been built for that reason. We work hard. We play hard. And going back to it is fabulous because everybody in the band is so busy. So, just to get the time from their busy lives to get together is a feat, but when we get together, it feels like we never left. So, add to the great acoustics and the set-up of the barn, another added feeling of “the band is getting back together again.”

Since it was in August, was there a summer vacation vibe?

It was like camp except we weren’t 12 years old. [Laughs] Adult camp! We spend all day together. We have meals together. But it was also work. I have to say that Edgar, Chris, and Stuart worked like dogs, way into the night. Working on scores, working on correcting things. They worked really, really, really hard, but we also had a really good time.

Although the four of you don’t play together often, it seems that a high level of trust exists within the group and with the audience.

That’s such a good question, because you are talking about both the external and internal relationship of building trust. It starts with the trust we have in one another, interpersonally. Between Chris and Edgar. Between Chris and Stuart. Stuart and Edgar. Edgar and me. If you were to draw a networking line between all of us, and Aoife included, it’s trust on every level. Trust and respect. I think the two go together. In that, if someone has a deep opinion about something, there’s going to be deep respect for that. We might try it and it might evolve into something else. There’s never an argument


The trust also comes from the philosophy: it’s not “It’s my way, your way or the highway.” It’s more like “I know certain things and you know certain things and I love what you know and you like what I know and respect what I know.” So we are just working it out all of the time.

So that allows for the freedom of creativity, to follow a musical idea and see where it takes you?

You know, that other thing about that is where you place your ego. We live in a world where some people think their ego walks in front of them. And [with Goat Rodeo], every one of us has a pretty strong ego because otherwise we can’t go and perform. But the egos never lead. We actually make fun of our own egos or each other’s.

Another thing is, we all have strengths and vulnerabilities, [but] we never, ever pounce on anybody’s vulnerability. I’m the oldest guy there. I’m full of warts. You can probably make fun of me until the cows come home but I think they treat me nice. There’s respect but they never step on someone’s vulnerability. It’s like a great relationship — a great domestic relationship. We didn’t get into pushing buttons. We’re so clear about the work that needs to be done. That’s how you build trust. You accept the whole person, and you treasure the parts that they excel in. You don’t tramp on weaknesses. But while we have a lot of fun!

What is one recording that ranks as a G.O.A.T. (greatest of all time) for you?

When you ask a question like that, I can’t help but think about different time periods. If the well-lived life is the life that has been explored, then obviously at all times in your life you will have had different influences that have sparked new interests.

I will give you a musical example of recent vintage. There’s this 23-year-old musician named Jacob Collier from England. He’s almost self-taught. He sings. He plays dozens of instruments. He goes and creates. I find more and more as I get older and older, I am just stupefied by young talent in a way I never was. So someone like Jacob Collier comes along and he does harmonies in ways that are so astounding. I think he studied with Herbie Hancock and his level of inventiveness is so astounding. I feel like Salieri hearing Mozart for the first time. This guy just appears and he can spin and juggle 36 balls in the air while he’s talking to you. I just can’t take this! It’s just so amazing!

Chris is someone like that. Chris has that kind of mind. And I think working with Edgar gives me that sense of him. Because here’s this mind who is a perfectionist mind, in that he works things out in the perfectionist mentality where the abstract is really close to the reality. Usually I have an image of something and I’m going to translate that into a feeling, into a sound, and here it is. Edgar likes manipulating things in the abstract. That’s hard to do, because most of us like to work in the visible world, [which is a] tiny part of the spectrum in the universe.

So the invisible world, whether it is the larger universe or the micro universe, is something that most of us can’t experience
 To go to trusting the abstract world, which we can’t see, and say that it’s real is very difficult. And so the question is, What is our faith in the invisible? That’s a big question. For me it is not a political question. It is a human question. As in, who do you trust and on what subjects? That’s very difficult because the world has become so complex.

And the world is so immediate and immense, and you are inundated from so many sides.

So, I grew up in three cultures, and each culture said, “We are the best!” I grew up as a 7-year-old — that is when I came to the States — saying, “Are you all crazy? You can’t all be right because you are claiming you’re the most right and that’s not logical!” So I had to figure out what that means. Just like, is bluegrass music the best? Is classical music the best? Is jazz the best? Is R&B the best? Is hip-hop the best?

I decline to think that way because that just gets me in trouble. Just because it doesn’t make sense. It doesn’t make sense logically. It doesn’t make sense to me sociologically. It doesn’t make sense to me as an American citizen because I take pride in all of the inventions we have made to the expressive world. And every new invention we have is a combination of a number of worlds.

You posted some music performances to your pandemic-inspired project, Songs of Comfort, to bring a little solace to people. How gratifying is it that it’s taken on a life of its own, with people around the world uploading videos?

One of the things that I have found out in this first trimester of the pandemic is how deeply people need one another. How deeply they need community. After lockdown, we see the beaches fill up, the bars fill up, and some people say that the economy must move. It’s totally understandable that we have that drive to be together. My way of thinking about it is to say, let’s be a community given the means we have.

In music, in service, it is always asking the question, “How can we help?” So it came from that impulse. That is a very natural impulse, which so many people have added to, or responded to, because we are all going through different versions of the same thing. We’re losing people. We’re stressed. We can’t find food. We can’t earn our living. We can’t plan. We can’t move around. We can’t be with one another.

But guess what? Music travels lightly. This is where the ephemeral is an advantage. It’s not something that needs to be moved by FedEx or a delivery person, but something we can transfer anywhere we want. It goes through walls. That’s why I say, in culture, music builds bridges because the bridges are not physical. Music doesn’t build walls; it builds bridges, because I can send you a link and there you have it.

I relished not only doing Songs of Comfort, but being able to Zoom into hospitals or getting to play for one patient. To send some music to one specific person to say, “I hear this is what you are going through. I’m so sympathetic. I’d like to send you this piece of music. Here it is. I recorded it on my phone.” And then send it to someone. That’s pretty personal. That to me is the essence of the aesthetic experience.

(Editor’s note: Read the remaining installments of our Artist of the Month interview series here.)


Photo credit: Josh Goleman

WATCH: The Alex Leach Band, “Take the Long Way Home”

Artist: The Alex Leach Band
Hometown: Jacksboro, Tennessee
Song: “Take the Long Way Home”
Release Date: May 15, 2020
Label: Mountain Home Music Company

In Their Words: “After writing the song, my wife and I had a vision of how we thought the video would look. With plenty of help from our Mountain Home family and our band, we were able to make our vision a reality; complete with a ’60s, bright orange VW Microbus and bell-bottoms for all! Each of us got to unleash a bit of our inner, free spirit for the video, and we think the outcome gives off the perfect vibe. We hope you enjoy this groovy journey with us as we ‘Take the Long Way Home.'” — Alex Leach


Photo credit: Sandlin Gaither

Chris Thile Keeps His Goat Rodeo Bandmates From Falling Out of Trees

For more than a quarter of a century, Chris Thile has been constant force in the American music scene — and he’s still shy of 40. The musical polymath always seems to have some project going on: whether as a duo (pairing most prominently with both Michael Daves and Edgar Meyer), a trio (Nickel Creek), quartet (Goat Rodeo), and quintet (Punch Brothers). And he has won Grammys in all of those groupings.

Last summer, Thile rendezvoused with his Goat Rodeo brethren — fiddler Stuart Duncan, cellist Yo-Yo Ma, and bassist (and fellow MacArthur “Genius Grant” honoree) Edgar Meyer — to record their long-anticipated sophomore effort, Not Our First Goat Rodeo, which came out in June. What Thile finds is so special about this collaboration is that it features musicians who are, he says, “excited by, and invigorated by, discomfort. Like a good stretch. I think this project is defined by the willingness of its participants to stretch outside of their perceived comfort zones.”

This Artist of the Month interview is the third of four installments as BGS salutes the incredible and iconic musicians of Not Our First Goat Rodeo.

In a BGS interview a couple years back, you said, “I think any album worth listening to is a concept record.” Was there a concept or an overarching theme behind the new album?

Thile: I don’t know if I would, at this point in my life, back myself up on that no worthwhile album has been made without a concept. If indeed I said that I would walk that back just a touch. But the vast majority of records that have made a serious impact on me have had some sort of perceptible topics of conversations, governing principles, or thematic glue. With instrumental records, the themes start to become the play of contrasts and similarities between the individual participants, and the characteristics they assume in concert with one another.

The two actual lyrical vocal songs [on Not Our First Goat Rodeo] — there’s one other vocal song that has no lyrics — are both meditations on work/life balance. They both zoom the lenses in on the less-written-about parts of the relationships. We tend to write songs about the beginnings and ends of relationships, but we don’t necessarily write songs about the middle. Because the beginnings and ends can be so explosive. Hopefully, if your relationship is successful, your relationship will be in the middle until one of you dies.

Certainly the five of us together often talk about work/life balance. How our families are. How we are doing in context of our families, and how our families are doing in the context of our various endeavors. Lyrically that was something that Aoife and I talked about writing in the midst of those kinds of discussions and thoughts. Instrumentally, the themes are more abstract, but no less present. This project has a built-in [structure] of Stuart, Yo-Yo, Edgar, and me bouncing off of each other. Like, what’s it going to sound like when you smear those four people together? And when you get Aoife into the mix, it becomes a whole other thing.

Is writing lyrical songs for Goat Rodeo different compositionally than in other songwriting situations?

It is different. Since the project is so instrumentally focused, it’s ultimately an instrumental project that happens to have a couple of vocal moments in there. We came up with the music together, then Aoife [O’Donovan] and I went off, having discussed the various things we wanted to write about. But when we are writing that music, it is still kind of like instrumental music that happens to have some vocals on it. “The Trappings” being slightly more like you might expect a vocal song to be. “We Were Animals” came right in sort of the middle.

“Every Note a Pearl” was very much an instrumental, then we wanted some more instruments that could slide around. Also, we wanted some more stuff [happening] while Edgar was pizzicato and Stuart playing tenor banjo and me on the mandolin. We wanted Yo-Yo to have some friends in Sustaining Instrument-land. So, we felt, “OK, Aoife and I can help with that.” But we were never tempted to add words to that one. Because the project is driven by instrumentalizing, the vocals are more balanced in terms of where the interest is coming from. Often, if there are vocals in a piece of music, we are focusing on the vocals, and in this music we are not necessarily playing to those expectations.

The voices then are like fellow instruments?

Yes, absolutely. And they’re not given a place of greater prominence than any one instrumentalist is.

Can you talk about Aoife’s unique contributions to Goat Rodeo projects?

When we first did the project, it was an all-instrumental project. And then, I think it was Yo-Yo’s idea. During our practice, he said, “Chris, you sing. Why don’t you sing a little bit?” And I said, “OK.” It was pretty organic. It was like, “Wouldn’t it be lovely to have another singer on these ‘singing songs’?” Aoife and I had never done anything officially together. It had always been at music festivals. Late-night jam sessions. Those type of things. I think both of us had so much fun singing together that I instantly thought of Aoife and I sent everybody recordings of her. Everyone was into it and off we went. It was still with the full knowing that it was an instrumental record.

That fits in with the group’s general philosophy of not conforming to any genre or expectations — to include anything into the music that makes it work.

That’s absolutely right. Nothing’s off limits. If one of us is interested in something, then it’s like, “Hell yeah!” I love that this record can go from something like “Every Note a Pearl” to “Not for Lack of Trying,” and the idea we’re going to be playing around with sliding slowly from one diatonic chord that is well within diatonic harmony to another — but we’re going to pass through all the points along the way, just very slowly. As if the music is melting/spontaneously generating.

And that’s a thing we’re going to pursue — we’re going to see what happens when we chase a thought. More so [on this album] than the first one, actually. This time through the composition process, more was on the table. We had already pursued our first instincts. It was time to really open up to what the possibilities were — having a foundation to begin with in the form of the first record.

Goat Rodeo features four exceptional musicians and it feels like you all try to bring out more in each other.

I love the ways in which it challenges me. I think it challenges each one of us. Maybe the defining characteristic of this ensemble is that what might stretch one of its members might be the absolute comfort zone of another. What might stretch Stuart as far as he’s ever been in one direction is a walk in the park for Yo-Yo. And vice versa. What might be absolutely stretching Yo-Yo to the point the farthest reaches of his exploration is like falling off a log for Stuart.

I love that aspect of this project. Something that’s super easy for me would be hard for Edgar. And something that’s super easy for Edgar would be hard for me. It runs through the whole ensemble like that. So you always have a guide. One of us can always teach the rest of the class about stretching ourselves as musicians.

Even within a piece.

Oh absolutely. Who’s the master of a given concept can switch throughout the course of a piece. And the learner can instantly become the master. And the master can become the learner, with the idea that we all get better at it as we go along. I love hearing the sound of when one of us is out on the limb right now but one of us totally has it. Don’t worry, that person is going to make sure you don’t fall out of the tree. Because you know that they will return the favor.

What is one recording that ranks as a G.O.A.T. (greatest of all time) for you?

My world was totally blown open by Kendrick Lamar by How to Pimp a Butterfly. I think that is an extraordinary work. Talk about an album hanging together structurally. I think that is just a master class in developing one theme. I still have so much to learn from that record. That’s on the list. That’s definitely up there with the greatest records ever. It’s still opening my ears. The way I understood it when I first heard it is completely different from how I understand it now. One of the big differences is that I understand how little I understand about it. I think the best records do that. They open up your worldview — not just your musical view.

(Editor’s note: Read the remaining installments of our Artist of the Month interview series here.)


Photo credit: Josh Goleman

WATCH: Cinder Well, “Queen of the Earth, Child of the Skies”

Artist: Cinder Well
Hometown: Santa Cruz, California, but now Ennis, Ireland
Song: “Queen of the Earth, Child of the Skies”
Album: No Summer
Release Date: July 24, 2020
Label: Free Dirt Records

In Their Words: “This tune is an American version of an Irish set dance called ‘The Blackbird.’ I derived my own interpretation from a 1947 field recording of West Virginian fiddler Eden Hammons. Hammons used an interesting fiddle tuning, DDAD, which I also used here. Erynn Marshall draws the connection between the American and Irish versions of this tune in her book Music in the Air Somewhere: The Shifting Borders of West Virginia’s Fiddle and Song Traditions.

“Being from America and living in Ireland, I have been really interested in fiddle tunes that are found in both traditions. When I found this tune, I set out to reimagine it, led by this idea that if this tune has been making its way around the world for hundreds of years, why not keep interpreting it? I aimed to do this with all the songs, both original and traditional on No Summer, to get to the core of them and express them in the most relevant and honest way possible.

“This video was shot in the back room of Lucas’s bar in Ennis, Ireland, amongst empty tables, but where, in a different time, you have a nice quiet pint next to a fire.” — Cinder Well


Photo credit: Jim Ghedi

The Show On The Road – Rising Appalachia

This week on the Show On The Road, a conversation with Chloe Smith of Rising Appalachia. In 2005 she founded this unique partnership with her sister Leah after their relentless world travels finally intersected in southern Mexico, where Leah had started mastering the banjo.

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Growing up in a musical family of traditional string-band players and contra-dance leaders near Atlanta, Rising Appalachia’s latest release, Leylines, mixes the rustic front porch sound of their childhood family jam sessions with a neon-tinted modern backbeat of dancehall electronics and mystical protest. That could have felt incongruous, but somehow these influences mix beautifully with their ethereal, intertwined vocals and darting fiddle-and-banjo runs.

While our host, Z. Lupetin, was able to catch up with Chloe for this cross-country conversation, Leah has been marooned in Costa Rica since the world shut down in March and continues to work from there. The sisters and their talented six-piece band have become a beloved fixture at music festivals throughout the United States, but have also played stages in Colombia, Costa Rica, India, Italy, Hungary, Bulgaria, The Czech Republic, Ireland, Scotland, and more. 

Always looking to challenge the traditional carbon-hungry touring routine, Leah dubbed their group as part of a growing “slow music movement”, and in this episode, Z. talks with Chloe about the time they toured remote Canadian farming islands via sailboat. It’s that kind of intimate and innovative traveling that Chloe would like to return to whenever the COVID-19 shutdown lifts in the coming years.

Stick around to the end of the episode for an acoustic version of “Harmonize” from Leylines, and check out Rising Appalachia’s newest single “Pulse,” featuring Dirtwire.

As ‘Goat Rodeo’ Returns, Edgar Meyer Makes Every Three-Note Chord Count

Lucky is how Edgar Meyer says he feels that he and his Goat Rodeo collaborators — Yo-Yo Ma, Chris Thile, and Stuart Duncan — were able to get together for the ensemble’s second album, Not Our First Goat Rodeo. They weren’t so lucky, however, when it came to their tour, which was supposed to start in August. “That’s not going to happen right now,” he tells BGS, adding, “We were looking forward to cherry-pick from both records.”

Along with their 2011 debut, which won two Grammy Awards, the Goat Rodeo albums represent two of the many high points in Meyers’ illustrious career. Renowned for his artistry on the double bass as well as for his compositional skills, the award-winning musician has been honored with a MacArthur Fellowship and the Avery Fisher Prize — the only bassist to have won either. Meyer also might be the man most responsible for Goat Rodeo’s existence. Having collaborated with both Ma and Thile, he introduced them to each other; later he and Thile recommended Duncan to Ma as the one to round out their quartet.

This Artist of the Month interview is the second of four installments as BGS salutes the incredible and iconic musicians of Not Our First Goat Rodeo.

BGS: Was there less preparation time for Not Our First Goat Rodeo than for the first album?

Meyer: I’d say in terms of learning how to play the parts, yes. But Stuart, Chris, and I spent 20 days together writing and that’s very similar to the first one. That’s probably more important than learning how to play it. We were not particularly well rehearsed or knew the music when we [all] got together, but the important part — which is the writing — had about the same amount of effort.

How was it building these pieces together?

It’s a joy. It is a unique endeavor and we were able to go somewhere we probably wouldn’t go with another set of people.

And did songs evolve a lot once you all got into the studio?

Not much in terms of the actual notes. Maybe the feeling of it — that would evolve some. Occasionally, there might be a kind of loosely mandolin/bass improvised area that became more consistent in what it is. But there’s not a lot of that. Actually [the] music did not change immensely while recording, except in terms of it gelling. And in terms of people really understanding everyone else’s and their own roles, and making it into a whole.

All four of you had more familiarity playing with each other this time. Did that make it easier for everyone to gel?

Overall, yes. It’s tricky in that we attempted to try to find things that were wholly different from the first one. I wouldn’t say that we entirely succeeded in that, but I don’t think we were disappointed either. We just felt obligated to try and find brand new places to go. At the end of the day, it still sounds exactly like that same set of people — and I don’t think we were able to deeply change it. I think it is nine years later and I think we are all a little bit different. It is a different record, but very recognizable from the first one.

Were there musical territories that you all were specifically interested for this album?

For each piece we do, there’s always something that we are trying to explore that is new in some way for one or all of us — that’s almost a baseline. An esoteric example would be
 I relate to harmony most centrally as a three-voice thing. For me if there’s more than three voices usually, no matter what the type of counterpoint is, most of these things are not going to track all four at the same time. But it is possible with good three-part writing to have the listener track all three voices almost all the time. That’s just what I find. Obviously somebody with enough skills will try to turn that on its head.

Depending on which way you count, there are either 19 possible three-note chords or there are 12. The modern music guys like to say 12, but their way of counting says that the major chord is the same thing as a minor chord. So, I prefer to count 19 and make those redundancies separate chords.

So, for “Not for Lack of Trying,” we experimented; there’s a chorale that it’s kind of built around — a three-part chorale. It has a repeated phrase. I think we tried to get one of each kind of chord. And maybe it’s a 24-note chorale [because] the last five chords are the ones that were used in the beginning. But there’s at least one of each of the 19 kinds of three-note chords in that chorale. That’s not something we did on the first record.

But there’s always some kind of something that somebody or all of us are trying to explore. And it’s not going to usually be something like, “Oh, we wanted to see if we could mix some bluegrass with some Caribbean music.” It’s going to be much more melodies, rhythms, harmonies — very specific musical questions.

What was your reaction listening to how Not Our First Goat Rodeo came together as a completed album?

I think mainly good
 it’s a little more even than the first one. Maybe it doesn’t have some of the crazy highs, but it is a little more consistent. It’s more like somebody’s doing it for the second time.

This time everyone was a little more consistent with what instruments they played. Was that a conscious choice?

It’s just how it went down. The truth is on that count we were trying to emulate the first record. I probably like the variety of the first one slightly more. What we knew before we started the project was that an instrumentation of mandolin, violin, cello, and bass is not a very good instrumentation, and we knew the three of us would have to switch instruments in order to make the textures really work. Then when we are all on our main instruments, you can hear the comfort. You can hear all of us doing what we do best, but if you had to listen to those four instruments for a whole recording it wouldn’t work as well.

Song titles on both Goat Rodeo albums are very fun, like “Waltz Whitman.” Does one person tend to come up with the titles or are they batted around and one title rises to the top?

Chris and I had a session on the phone for about a half an hour the day before we turned in the album. “Waltz Whitman” was Chris’s, and he didn’t like it when he said it. I liked it a lot and made him stay with it. And, of course, he likes it now.

A lot of projects that Chris and I’ve done, and that I have done in general probably, have a lot of titles with useless meanings that the listener will never know about. Because we don’t put a lot of stock in titles. And so we could slap almost anything on there. This one actually didn’t have anything that we wouldn’t be afraid to have on the front page of the paper. There’s no hidden stories behind these titles. That’s unusual. Maybe it’s a new trend for me.

What is one recording that ranks as a G.O.A.T. (greatest of all time) for you?

It’s a tough one because I will start by rejecting the question. What has had bigger impressions on me are particular pieces of music, and not particular recordings of them. The set of my favorite Beethoven, Bach, and Mozart pieces have had a bigger influence on me than single recordings have. My primary method of browsing in my formative years was less recordings than sitting at the piano and going through those composers’ scores. Although my list of influences is broad, at the top of it is Beethoven, Bach, and Mozart, and my primary way of knowing them is not through recordings.

So it’s their compositions overall?

Yes, that is exactly right. And the scores themselves. Because that is what we have from them. Whereas with Stevie Wonder, the way I know him is through a recording; so that’s how I’m influenced by him. But with these classical composers, it is not through the recordings. Like I’ve said that’s the most important. It probably depends primarily on the vintage. It’s a tough one, because some people who lived during the times of recordings are not well-documented. Anyway, that’s a true answer though. That’s how it works for me. The essence of what moves me is the writing.

(Editor’s note: Read the remaining installments of our Artist of the Month interview series here.)


Photo credit: Josh Goleman