LISTEN: Natalie Padilla, “Fireweed”

Artist: Natalie Padilla
Hometown: Lyons, Colorado
Song: “Fireweed”
Album: Fireweed
Release Date: September 6, 2019

In Their Words: “As many of my songs do, this one started as a clawhammer banjo one-part melody. I was in Crested Butte, Colorado, with my band Masontown doing a few mountain town shows and had a bit of time to sit down with the tune on this great porch that backed right into the mountain. The pink fireweed was still blooming, but near the top of the plant which is a sign that winter is coming. This song is meant to symbolize the importance of all seasons life has to offer, even the dark ones.” — Natalie Padilla


Photo credit: Woody Meyer

This Could Be a Golden Year for Lillie Mae

Brown’s Diner is the kind of hole-in-the-wall that your eyes have to adjust to, after stepping in from a sunny afternoon in Nashville. However, Lillie Mae shines like a beacon in the dim light of the dark booth as she gabs with the staff she’s clearly known for years.

A twenty-year Nashville veteran, her very first business meeting as the youngest member of her former family band, Jypsi, was in this very restaurant. A true road warrior, Lillie Mae and family traversed the country playing bluegrass festivals and churches. On the heels of a censored childhood steeped in traditional music, she graduated to the honky-tonks of Lower Broadway and on to her own burgeoning career as a solo artist now signed to Third Man Records.

Settling in at the beloved burger-and-fries mainstay after three weeks on the road with The Raconteurs, Lillie Mae detailed the process of making her brand new record, Other Girls, with producer Dave Cobb, as well as songwriting inspiration, a crummy golden year, and what works feels like when it doesn’t feel like work.

BGS: Your lyrics leave a lot to the imagination. They weave a story and put you in a setting but they aren’t inculcating anything for the listener. But tell us more about “A Golden Year.”

That one and the last one are my favorites on the album for sure. Basically, my birthday is June 26 so my golden year was a year ago. We were in The Refuge in Appleton, Wisconsin, and we’d played a couple of gigs up there and we were leaving this monastery. It is an amazing place where musicians and artists of all kinds can go and live for free. Food and everything is taken care of. They get government grants and they have a studio. It is an amazing place right on the water.

We were rolling out and I went to do one more look around and my brother was still wrapping up so I was just walking through the hallways. They have a chapel where they do shows and I heard a choir singing “Ahhhs” and I just heard the whole song and I had a guitar in my hands. I rummaged through rooms to find a pen. I sat down on the guitar case and wrote it. It came from somewhere else. It is a perfect example that we are just a vessel. I had been looking forward to my golden year my whole life and then it turned out pretty lousy for me. I was super depressed and down and writing that song was probably the best part of it.

Do you sit down to write or do you mostly write when you are inspired?

You know, mostly when it starts to come through. But if I sit down and pluck on the guitar or something for a minute, I will easily find myself trying to come up with something. I don’t sit down and try to write nearly as often as I should.

Did you have to do any of that for this record as you were putting the songs together?

Nah. There were a couple of things that were not completely finished, like the last song on the record. I was tweaking words until recording. Some stuff was almost there. And every once in a while, if a second verse is not coming, I’ll just repeat the verse, though that’s kind of cheating.

With your ingestion of art being censored in your religious upbringing, there is some open sexuality on this record. Bluegrass, folk, and country have all been known to suppress that. Have you ever come up against censorship from co-creators or folks in the business realm?

Totally. I think a lot of it you can do it to yourself. You can put yourself in a little conservative box easily. But these days, I’ve just lost my care about what people think. It just doesn’t matter. I have a couple of songs that I haven’t been open about what they are about — on the last album, that were written about abortion. Songs that were really heavy to me and I never talked about that. It wasn’t a secret but “Why do we need to talk about this?” because it can mean whatever it means to anyone. But that is coming from a very conservative place of trying to please all ears.

Having these old mindsets of being in old Nashville, I definitely have been more conservative than I truly am. For me to not mute or hide lyrics or not be open about things, it has been a step for me. There is a song on the album called “Crisp & Cold” that was inspired by a friend of mine who is transgender. There is a line in the song that says, “Don’t be scared/Be more.” When you literally have to worry that some people might take your life because of that. It is crazy. There are times when you don’t want to offend anyone but those days are over.

But growing up in bluegrass, we did the circuit. We were always on our way to another festival. My sisters were older than me and were beautiful young women who were experiencing growing out of the whole religious thing. We did Beatles covers back then when I was a little kid and bluegrass snubbed us. To love something so much and to be ousted from it because you’ve developed some fashion sense or something. It sucks to be such a supporter of something and to not have them have your back. But it has changed a lot.

Did you and your siblings grow up listening to any specific artists?

It was super limited, what we were allowed to listen to and we grew up playing full time. We played churches and bluegrass festivals. We had a lot of live influence. As far as what we were allowed to listen to, it was not very much. We’d be allowed to listen to some Del McCoury songs but not all of them because of the content. A lot of Marty Robbins and Hank Williams, but always excluding some stuff because my folks were super strict.

Did you find yourself seeking ways to listen to those excluded songs?

Not me. I’m the youngest in the family and I never did. I’m really bad about that still. I don’t go out and pick out music. If I go to a record store, I have a panic attack. Every single time I end up on the floor in a corner just sitting cross-legged waiting for everyone to check out. I have full-on attacks. Maybe I’ll be better now. It has been a minute since I’ve been in one. I never got joy out of going to buy a record.

I was the youngest and growing up, I never had a choice. I didn’t get to pick where we went or what we listened to or anything. I just listen to what other people are listening to. I really rely on my boyfriend or my brother playing cool music. Unless I hear someone at a gig or a festival, then I’ll pick up their music. Like Natalie Prass. My brother met her at a show a couple of years back and he brought her CD home. And I was like, “Oh my God.” Her music changed me.

Jack White gave me a record player but I didn’t have speakers and I’m technically challenged so I could never figure out how to hook it up. The vehicle I have doesn’t have music. I have very little music on my phone and rarely listen to it. I do think I have Natalie Prass’ record on there. [Laughs]

What was it like working with Dave Cobb on this album?

He was wonderful to work with. He’s a really nice person. The first conversation we had, we talked about some bluegrass bands. I think it was something different for him. I was very nervous as first to go in because I was out of my comfort zone but it was really easy. We went in and recorded a song, took a lunch, and came back and recorded another song. It was a pretty easy process.

How was it out of your comfort zone?

Well, Dave uses his drummer Chris Powell on most of his stuff so for me going in because I’m such a picky asshole, I was nervous about playing with someone I hadn’t played with. I was just nervous it wasn’t going to be my vibe. But it was. It was wonderful. It’s an amazing studio [RCA Studio A] with great sounds and a great crew.

So it was pretty easy once it started?

Totally. After song number one. The first song had two different time signatures the way it was written but it got straightened out to just one. At first, I was like, “What is going to happen here?” It ended up a great thing, but I was a little stubborn at first.

Did that create friction?

No. Not at all. I kept it to myself. I went to the bathroom, cried it out, and came back ready to give it a try.

That’s awesome you trust your producer.

Well, I’d be foolish. Who am I, you know? Here’s a shot to work with some amazing people. If I threw a wrench in it, there are too many people on board. There are too many people invested in me. I owe too many people too many things. There’s a time and a place. Maybe next album. [Laughs]

I’ll get OCD and have little brain freak-outs. One can come across as stubborn, and all I’ve ever tried to do is be opposite of that. I’ve tried hard to be positive and give my all no matter what the project is, but those little OCD things, they can hinder you for sure.

Have you ever made concessions that you regretted making because the art didn’t turn out the way you wanted it to?

If I’ve thought like that, I’ve tried to change my outlook and be like, this is the way it was supposed to be. It (the process of making the album) wasn’t what I had anticipated. I anticipated buckling down. I anticipated really working hard, and then when I wasn’t working hard and it was just coming really easily and naturally, I felt like I wasn’t doing a lot. When you are used to hustling and it comes easy, it feels like something must be wrong.

How do you feel about the release of the new album? What is the period like right before it comes out?

The last couple of weeks [touring with The Raconteurs] were super exciting. It was fun to be out playing the tunes. I wasn’t ready to be done. I enjoyed it a little too much.

I’m pretty level. Just from so many years of getting my hopes up, not even just about music. I used to get so excited about something but I crashed and burned too many times. I don’t allow myself to get excited about much of anything. People will get the wrong impression that I’m not enjoying myself or that I’m not grateful. I’m so thrilled but my expectations are pretty low. I’m excited about it coming out, but if I got dropped tomorrow I think I’d be prepared. Which is not good! [Laughs]

My boyfriend took the pictures for the album campaign. And my sister Scarlett and our friend Amy helped with the photo shoot. It was just us, so it feels super close to home, and I feel really proud of it.


Photo credit: Misael Arriaga

LISTEN: Kat Wallace and David Sasso, “Farewell to Trion”

Artist: Kat Wallace and David Sasso
Hometown: New Haven, Connecticut
Song: “Farewell to Trion”
Album: Stuff of Stars
Release Date: August 16, 2019

In Their Words: “We worked up our arrangement of this Alabama fiddle tune after David learned it from late fiddler Stacy Phillips at a local old-time jam just a week before his untimely passing. We took inspiration from the fiddle and mandocello recordings of Darol Anger and Mike Marshall while pulling from our own classical roots. We enjoyed playing around with classical form and phrasing while keeping that good old-time groove. The arrangement builds to a climax where fiddle and mandocello trade the C [third] part hook just before a reharmonized outro. This track is one of two instrumentals on our debut album, which leans on our shared love of folk and bluegrass and showcases our original songwriting.” — Kat Wallace and David Sasso


Photo credit: Naomi Libby

LISTEN: Martin Hayes and Brooklyn Rider, “Jenny’s Welcome Home to Charlie”

Artist name: Martin Hayes and Brooklyn Rider
Hometown: Madrid, Spain (Martin Hayes); New York City and Boston (Brooklyn Rider)
Song: “Jenny’s Welcome Home to Charlie”
Album: The Butterfly
Release Date: August 9, 2019
Label: In a Circle Records

In Their Words: “I was about 14 when I first became familiar with the tune ‘Jenny’s Welcome to Charlie’ from a recording of a fiddler by the name Kathleen Collins. The tune is commonly known in the tradition and is a standard tune that is popular with fiddle players and is not associated with any one regional style. It is alleged that the tune title references Bonny Prince Charlie and his mistress Jenny. I’ve been playing this tune all my life and am very excited to be able to finally release a version that I believe is the first version of this tune to be arranged for fiddle and string quartet.” — Martin Hayes


Photo credit: Erin Baiano

Hard Drive, “Missouri Road”

Ask a bluegrasser to define “mash” — that driving, head-bobbing, modern iteration of traditional ‘grass that refuses to commit to a minor or major third — and their answer will more than likely include some sentiment similar to, “It’s hard to explain, but I know it when I hear it!!” It’s true. The SON!-inducing subgenre within a subgenre can be traced back to artists like Tony Rice, Alison Krauss & Union Station, Lonesome River Band, and many others, but it does not have one single, tangible origin point or dictionary definition. 

Today, you can hear mash-inflected tunes from major touring bands and festival campgrounds alike — and especially from the halls of the Society for the Preservation of Bluegrass Music of America’s (SPBGMA) annual gathering in Nashville. In the past, mash was generally relegated to the much more traditional-leaning spheres of bluegrass, but in recent years musicians and pickers from other circles such as old-time, Boston’s chamber-influenced bluegrass scene, and the Pacific Northwest and Colorado’s string-band vibes have championed mash as their own as well.

One such group is Hard Drive, a North Carolina-based bluegrass outfit that resulted from four musical roommates — Tatiana Hargreaves (fiddle), Aaron Tacke (banjo), Sonya Badigian (guitar), and Nokosee Fields (bass) — banding together. Their debut album, Random Access Mash, listens more as traditional, down home bluegrass with a fiddle focus and old time spirit, but it calls itself “mash.” Even the band name itself is a tongue-in-cheek reference to this specific picking culture. “Missouri Road” is a cheerfully loping rendition of a Kenny Baker tune that again finds the project straying from the ascribed format, but lets Hargreaves’ deliberate, timeless fiddling shine. The entire project is a delightful subversion of our expectations of what traditional bluegrass is supposed to be. And if it’s mash, it’s perhaps executed as artfully and subtly as humanly possible. Do we always know it when we hear it? 

Patrick McAvinue, “Der Belsnickel”

When Patrick McAvinue was awarded IBMA Fiddle Player of the Year in 2017, only six other fiddlers had ever won the award — one of them had won it eleven times. In the past handful of years the consistent, predictable fields of nominees in the instrumentalist categories have begun opening up more and more. Voters are now recognizing younger, up-and-coming musicians alongside returning stalwarts, rather than just the same old guard making it to the final round of voting year after year.

McAvinue is undoubtedly part of this “new wave” in bluegrass and that’s not simply due to the inventory in his trophy case. He’s toured with traditional bluegrassers Audie Blaylock & Redline as well as the more country-infused, Southern gospel-steeped bluegrass entertainers Dailey & Vincent, and his own cross-genre and folk outfit, Charm City Junction. In bluegrass, a genre that capitalizes on virtuosity — and often as a result, specialization — McAvinue demonstrates that a diverse approach isn’t necessarily a pitfall.

His brand new solo record, Perfect Fit, takes this idea to its utmost potential (there’s a Radiohead cover on the album). Another track, “Der Belsnickel,” is an impossibly quick, slightly atonal frolic — one that definitely calls to mind the episode of The Office referenced by the song’s title. Remember Dwight’s Schrute family holiday traditions? If you do, hold those in mind while this tune blazes by, performed in this video by McAvinue, his bandmates with Dailey & Vincent, and Matt Menefee on banjo. You’ll surely find “Der Belsnickel” is both impish and admirable.

Julian Pinelli, “Simple Mountains”

There’s an almost intangible subversion to fiddler Julian Pinelli’s debut album, Bent Creek, and an original tune included therein, “Simple Mountains.” The track begins with fiddle and banjo, but not in their age-old, familiar capacities. There’s a lyrical, pop-like sensibility to their duetted intro, painting a dreamy soundscape, a background for what’s to follow. The tightly-knit, free-flowing, jaunty tune calls back to the Appalachian Mountains from which Pinelli hails, but with the modern, neat, and tidy crispness of the string band scene of Boston, where he attended Berklee College of Music.

Though Pinelli and his band, Matthew Davis (banjo), Tristan Scroggins (mandolin), Sam Leslie (guitar), and Dan Klingsberg (bass), were well acquainted before the project, they were assembled expressly for these recordings, under the direction of the ever ethereal roots/folk savant Aoife O’Donovan. The group, especially on “Simple Mountains,” sounds impossibly in step with one another, tight and ever-listening. Their musicality and the authentic purity of the instruments — you’ll hear unexpected G-runs, an unyielding mando chop, and stunning double-stops — coupled with their impressive commitment to innovative, untrod musical ground elevates the entire set of songs above simple “vanity album” status. This is not a gratuitous, self-serving shredfest. It’s a surprisingly mature, impressively realized record that not only showcases exactly how the future of bluegrass-based, new acoustic-tinged music will play out, it shines a spotlight on a few of the exact pickers who will make that future happen. Hopefully not without a lightly subversive touch here and there.

BGS 5+5: Ross Holmes

Artist: Ross Holmes
Hometown: Fort Worth, Texas
Latest album: Not Very Good at Winning
Nickname: ‘Rooster’ is a nickname that has lingered since the glory days of Cadillac Sky.

What’s your favorite memory from being on stage?

I can’t say I have one favorite memory from being onstage, but I do have a great story about a particular gig in late 2014. As a native Texan, there isn’t a more sacred shrine than the Alamo. I’d been invited to perform at an annual ceremony in March of ’14 inside the Alamo chapel. I wound up composing an original piece an hour before the event honoring those who perished in the fight.

An iPhone recording I made of the piece, “We Fall a Sacrifice,” made its way to Phil Collins (who is an avid collector of artifacts from the battle of the Alamo and war for Texas independence), and I was invited to perform this tune again at a ceremony honoring Phil for the donation of his extensive collection to the state.

We took it a step further and, with permission from the Witte Museum in San Antonio, borrowed Davy Crockett’s supposed fiddle for the gala. Here I was, onstage with Crockett’s fiddle at the Alamo, playing this piece I’d written, in the presence of presidents, politicians, astronauts, sports legends, and recognized Texans. My sister, Katie Shore (Asleep at the Wheel), joined me for the set and, to this day, we still laugh at the absurd “WTF just happened” of that evening.

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

Imagery and color stimulate my musical thinking the most. I often turn on films or pull out prints of my favorite artists to glean inspiration from their creativity while I practice. The imagination of others is revelatory and channeling the intent of these minds has helped me grow as a composer and player.

Try this sometime: turn on Planet Earth, mute your TV, and play a soundtrack for the episode as you’re watching. Let the dynamic environment of each scene take you to a place of quiet calm or intense fear. You’ll be amazed at what comes out, maybe a familiar idea you filed away will emerge again, or maybe a new melody or groove will come to you. If anything, it’s really fun to provide fiddle accompaniment to snakes chasing lizards and sloths chilling on a branch.

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

I don’t have a set routine when I record or when I take the stage, as those environments are always changing. I do, though, have a special relationship with my case and the process of opening it and taking out my violin and bow. My case is my home-away-from-home and inside I keep a small, personal collection of memories. I find it’s a spiritual experience to unlatch and lift the lid, remove the blanket over my violin, and prepare my heart and mind to play. Those first moments are filled with thoughts and energy, like a prayer, and the respect I show my instrument feels like an abiding friendship when the first notes come so easily.

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

Early in my career I focused, obsessively, on being the “best” player I could be — the most technical, cleanest, impressive, etc., because I felt those skills would prove to listeners I was “elite.” Time has gone by, life has happened, victories and losses, the ups and downs that come with this profession, then something clicked a couple of years ago. I arrived at a point where I didn’t care about being the “best” anymore (thank god), and a new word replaced that selfish adjective — HONEST. I will always push the limits and challenge boundaries, but now my heart’s desire is to simply be the most honest musician I can be. That’s my mission statement, “In all things, be honest.” That’s it.

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

There’s no hiding that I’m a bona fide space junkie, completely taken with the cosmos and the notion of leaving earth on the greatest adventures to explore the deep expanse of our universe (I have a tattoo of the Apollo SM, CM, and LM on my right arm). We can’t see beyond blue skies during the day, but we know endless creation is still above us. When night falls and the sky is peeled back, the heavens are once again revealed and we sit and gaze at the mysteries between the stars.

The relationship between mankind and space and music is intrinsically linked because of curiosity and our need to explore. The greatest composers and players continue to seek new heights with their melodies, chords, and expression because that is our nature, journey to the new place. What will beings find on that golden record affixed to Voyager? Bach. Chuck Berry. Blind Willie Johnson. The human voice.


Photo credit: Allen Clark

Tui, “Cookhouse Joe”

“Old-time.” The moniker itself seemingly contains eons of musical cross-pollination, generations of aural tradition, lifetimes of carefully and purposefully — and haphazardly and accidentally — passing down the skills, stories, community, and tunes that make up the musical form. A new crop of old-time pickers has been slowly but surely emerging from the tight-knit, often insular (but almost never outright forbidding) ranks of the genre, with a continuing focus on the decades that have come before, but through a new lens. One of reclamation and representation, of mining stories and songs, one of painstakingly undoing the erasure that has prevailed over the history of any/all non-white, non-colonial, non-Christian, non-normative musics in this country.

Tui (pronounced TOO-EE), an old-time duo that includes fiddler Libby Weitnauer and multi-instrumentalist Jake Blount, perfectly epitomizes this new generation, this fiddle + banjo changing of the guard. In title and song roster their upcoming release, Pretty Little Mister, subverts the usual narratives of old-time — whether by turning the staple “Pretty Little Miss” on its gendered ear or by meticulously crediting and tracing back each track’s origins, often to fiddlers and pickers of color and other otherwise underrepresented folks of bygone eras.

“Cookhouse Joe,” the final tune on the album, was originally learned from a late-in-life recording of Kentucky fiddler Estill Bingham. And it’s okay that you might not recognize that name — that you probably will not is almost the entire point of the record. Tui has already done the work for their listeners, putting in the time to make sure that the old-time they create, for years past and the ages to come, tells the whole story of how and by whom this beautiful artistic tradition came to be. And on Pretty Little Mister it’s not only beautiful, it’s so much more.

The String – Byron Berline and Andy Statman

This week’s show is split between two string instrument masters who have little in common save for a lifelong commitment to nurturing traditional music while allowing it to grow and adapt to the times.

LISTEN: APPLE PODCASTS

Byron Berline is an Oklahoma-based fiddler who’s a hero in bluegrass music, but who also led the way in the country-rock movement out of Los Angeles for 25 years. He recently had a setback when his famous and beloved Double Stop Fiddle Shop in Guthrie, OK burned down and with it a huge loss of valuable instruments. Also in the show, Andy Statman talks about how and why he mastered the bluegrass mandolin and the Klezmer clarinet. He’s released more than 30 exceptional albums, his latest being Monroe Bus, a tribute to Bill Monroe instrumentals that took on unexpected range and dimension.