BGS Top Albums of 2019

Yes, even in this digital era, albums still matter, in particular in the genres covered by the team here at BGS, where storytelling is revered. Throughout 2019, we covered hundreds of new releases in folk, bluegrass, Americana, TV and film soundtracks, and really anything that had a roots feeling that rang true to us. Here are our eleven favorite albums we heard this year.

Charley Crockett, The Valley

From gospel-blues vocal cues to honky-tonkin’ steel guitar, Charley Crockett’s latest release, The Valley, has a little something for every roots music fan. His low croon makes an endearing vessel for deep lyrics — the album wrestles with mortality (likely a side effect of the two heart surgeries Crockett underwent in the weeks surrounding the recording sessions), love, and loneliness — but quick tempos, catchy melodies, and a hopeful takeaway keep the tone light. I have a feeling opener “Borrowed Time” will still be on loop in my head come 2030. – Dacey Orr


Maya de Vitry, Adaptations

Americana, especially its folkier, song-centered haunts, is remarkable in the way that it grapples with the realities of the millennial condition — granted, this most often occurs in a somewhat tactless, blinders-on, privilege unchecked sort of way. A deeper undercurrent is eroding that norm, though, a flow in which songwriters and music sculptors like Maya de Vitry thrive, reckoning not with the woes of this generation and this angst-filled time in history in saccharine, derivative ways, but by baring all, relinquishing shame, and believing the radical idea that human connection means seeing — and being seen. In Adaptations, de Vitry takes this unspoken mandate deeper still, not only lifting up whatever opaque barriers may obscure, but also shining a cleansing light on them, packaging her own (very relatable) internal and external debates in songs that are catchy, musical, intuitive, and craveable. – Justin Hiltner


Rhiannon Giddens with Francesco Turrisi, there is no Other

We talk about music cutting across borders, linking cultures, spanning eras. Few albums have embodied that as deftly, as enchantingly, as unforcedly as this set from folk-blues-and-beyond stylist Giddens and Italian percussionist Turrisi. On much of this, they mesh Southern traditions stretching back to music brought by enslaved peoples from Africa and immigrants from Europe with Mediterranean sounds echoing through the centuries back to the Crusades. It proves a natural mix, as much can ultimately be traced to common origins in the Middle East and North Africa — though you don’t have to know the musicology to be enraptured by the vibrant performances. And that goes for their Menotti opera piece (via Nina Simone) too. – Steve Hochman


Takumi Kodera, Sunset Glow

Japan’s flourishing bluegrass scene is little-known to most Americans, but it’s a community that has been developing in the shadows of Western-centered bluegrass for years. This past August we saw an example of the talent coming out of Japan with the release of Tokyo-based banjoist Takumi Kodera’s debut album, Sunset Glow. It’s a record rich with creative textures and thoroughly composed arrangements of both original tunes and bluegrass standards. Kodera is definitely an artist to follow going forward. – Carter Shilts


J.S. Ondara, Tales of America

In 2013, J.S. Ondara moved from his native Kenya to Minnesota (the home state of his hero Bob Dylan) seeking inspiration and musical opportunity.  Six years later, he released his breakout record, Tales of America: a reckoning of the realities of romanticism that come with moving to a place you only knew in your mind, and the dichotomy of the failures and freedom of the modern “American Dream.”  With veteran producer Mike Viola at the album’s helm (and supported by an impressive roster of guest artists like Andrew Bird, Dawes’ Taylor and Griffin Goldsmith, and Joey Ryan of the Milk Carton Kids), Ondara steps outside of the shadow of his idol’s influence and completely into his own.  – Amy Reitnouer Jacobs


Joan Shelley, Like the River Loves the Sea

Shelley traveled all the way to Iceland to record this album, but that distance gave her a new perspective on the place she calls home. This is at heart a Kentucky album: She incorporates various strings of regional music, sings and plays with other Louisville musicians (including Will Oldham and Nathan Salsburg), and gains some perspective on a place often described as being five years behind the rest of the country. But her steady voice and imaginative melodies, her incisive words and deft picking all mean that songs like “Awake” (about the angst of being in a city) and “The Fading” (about the beauty of entropy) hit with a quiet, intense power even if you’ve never set foot in the Bluegrass State. – Stephen Deusner


Larry Sparks, New Moon Over My Shoulder

Larry Sparks makes bluegrass music to satisfy his own traditional leanings, yet New Moon Over My Shoulder would appeal to anyone who cares about emotion, vocal control, and eloquence in their music collection. His gospel songs shine, his guitar playing is exquisite, and his delivery of “Annie’s Boy” proves he’s one of the most expressive vocalists that bluegrass has ever known. – Craig Shelburne


Andy Statman, Monroe Bus

Time and time again, as musicians with deep, unassailable bluegrass cred release albums that challenge absolutely every precept and entrenched tennant of the genre, a rule of thumb is made apparent: To be a “legit” bluegrass picker is to not give a shit about what is or is not bluegrass. With Monroe Bus Brooklyn-based mandolinist Andy Statman turns tradition on its ear — it’s still fully recognizable, just placed slightly out of reach, as a kind mother knowingly weans a petulant child, keeping the prize in sight as a security blanket. The album takes twists and turns through jazz, blues, bebop, klezmer, and yes, bluegrass, and it all feels right. So much so, a listener might not even blink at the title’s evocation of the Father of Bluegrass. – Justin Hiltner


Billy Strings, Home

Billy Strings is a force to be reckoned with. As a flatpicker, a singer, a writer, and a performer, the IBMA Award-winning guitarist has been storming the bluegrass scene, and 2019 was especially good to him. While continuing his seemingly endless tour, Strings released his highly-anticipated sophomore album, Home. The project hits all the right buttons — classic bluegrass styling, vibrant playing, and discerning songwriting. In its class of new releases in 2019, Home shines among the brightest. – Jonny Therrien


Tanya Tucker, While I’m Livin’

What makes this Tanya Tucker album so special? For me, it comes down to one word: personality. Nobody else sounds like her – the rasp, the catch in her voice, the way she phrases words like “Vegas” and “Texas” to make the story in a song her own. Her undiminished bravado is put to good use on “Hard Luck,” but very few vocalists can scale things back with equal power. Tucker does it every time. – Craig Shelburne


Yola, Walk Through Fire

Figure skating isn’t the first thing to come to mind when considering the year’s best albums, but Yola’s blazing debut, Walk Through Fire, reminds me of the glory days of the sport, before the scoring system changed, when judges would deliberately reserve perfect scores — the ever-elusive 10s — for athletes taking the ice toward the end of the competition. The terroir of Dan Auerbach’s production style met its match with Yola; they fashioned an album that’s transcendent, truly timeless, and an apt distillation of this exact moment in country and Americana. It’s fortuitous then, that at the end of the 2010s, we’ve reserved one last perfect score with which to declare this masterpiece not only one of the best albums of the year, but of the decade, too.Justin Hiltner


 

WATCH: Rhiannon Giddens Plays the Tiny Desk

Former Carolina Chocolate Drops leader and old-time music maven Rhiannon Giddens has the uncanny ability to sing through an audience. In May, she released her third full-length, studio album, there is no Other, with Nonesuch Records. In this new chapter, Giddens collaborated with Italian multi-instrumentalist Francesco Turrisi, who is known for his virtuosity on percussion and jazz piano. Giddens, Turrisi, and bassist Jason Sypher stopped by NPR to perform some music from the latest record; watch as they stun the audience huddled around the Tiny Desk.


Photo credit: Claire Harbage/NPR

BGS Songwriters Parlour at The Long Road 2019 in Photographs

It’s not every day that you get to handpick folks for a songwriters round in your very own personal Honky Tonk bar, but that was exactly the task handed down to us for this year’s Long Road Festival in Leicestershire in the UK last weekend. Outside, a bright, bustling, jovial festival celebrating the awe-inspiring depth and breadth of American roots music from around the globe. Inside? A dark, divey, straight-out-of-Nashville honky tonk — the perfect setting for Rose Cousins, Rhiannon Giddens, Sean McConnell, Jessica Mitchell, Francesco Turrisi, and our host Matt the Electrician to share songs and stories. And laughter. A lot of it!

Check out a few photos from the BGS Songwriters Parlour:


All photos: Justine Trickett

From Banjo to Opera, Rhiannon Giddens Brings History to the Stage

An interview with Rhiannon Giddens these days feels like a game show lightning round. Since winning the Steve Martin Banjo Prize in 2016 and a stunning $625,000 MacArthur Fellowship in 2017, the songwriter, singer, and instrumentalist has widened her scope and let a range of fine and folk arts projects flood into her idea-driven world. When we caught up with her in Nashville, for example, she was in rehearsals for Lucy Negro Redux, a multi-layered original ballet about Shakespeare, his purported black mistress and issues of identity and otherness. Working with poetry by Caroline Randall Williams, she composed the music with one of her latest collaborators, jazz pianist and world percussionist Francesco Turrisi. They’ve made a duo album set for release this year.

Here, Giddens speaks about her broader artistic scope and her attention on how women of color negotiate the past and present.

How different is your creative life now versus five years ago?

Oh my god. It’s like: “Who was that person?” I don’t even know. I am so grateful for that time. I was transitioning from the Carolina Chocolate Drops to my solo career. But it’s definitely become more of a creative life. I still am very much an interpreter. I’m very interested in giving old songs new life and putting them through a lens of today and I think there are a lot of things that are left on the shelf that need to be aired. But I definitely have found over the years that I’m finding more and more of my creative life to be in writing and collaborating. I’m very rarely going to sit in a room and write stuff. It’s like I write things and then I want to work with somebody and develop them or have a reason to do it.

So my collaborative opportunities have really grown since I left the band because it’s a lot easier to do things as your own person. There are all these things you have to think about when you’re in a band that I don’t have to think about any more. And it’s really allowed me to focus on the woman side of things, which is hard to do when you’re in a band full of boys, you know? Now I feel I can focus a bit more on what I’m finding is very important and front and center for me, which are women’s issues and women of color, in particular. Dealing with the history of what we’ve had to go through in this country and in other places, and what does that mean? And creating platforms for other women of color to have their voices heard, in my limited capacity.

You have background in opera, which may be the most collaborative of all the fine arts, with all its component parts. And you’ve started doing Aria Code, an opera podcast. What’s that about?

I was approached by Metropolitan Opera to be guest on this podcast and it just turned into becoming the host. And that’s been really fun. The wonderful producer Marrin Lazyan, she’s put it all together and I’m there to provide context and if there’s stuff that jibes particularly well with what I know like Otello, the Verdi opera, I can bring in my expertise on blackface and things like that. It’s been great.

And I’m going to be in my first production next year as a mature artist. I’m doing Porgy & Bess with the Greensboro Opera. It’s to open up the new arts center in Greensboro. So it’s kind of part of my involvement in my hometown. And also an opportunity to sing Bess, which I’ve never been able to do. So opera’s come back into my world in kind of unexpected ways. I’m writing an opera. I sing with orchestras on a regular basis. So it’s been really wonderful to see that come back into my life because it is something that I love so much and that I have spent a lot of my years doing. So we’ll see where it goes. I don’t know!

You produced the album Songs of Our Native Daughters, which brings you together with Amythyst Kiah, Allison Russell, and Leyla McCalla. What motivated this and how do you put these women into context?

It was an amazing opportunity. I was already working on this idea of early American musical history and speaking to it through the music of the banjo and the music of minstrelsy for Smithsonian Folkways. So it took this little turn and became a record with these really strong women of color. With my co-producer Dirk Powell, we were talking about who we wanted to be on this project, and that’s where we ended up. I was like, “Oh, this is where it needs to go.” From then on it took this slightly different path down to really talking about the woman of color’s experience in America and having a platform to respond to that in an artistic way.

And to each of the women who came in, I said, look, bring your banjo. And let’s talk about what it means to be a woman of color here and what it means to have ancestors who’ve gone through what they’ve gone through. It was an amazing experience to watch them feel like they had this space to write about these things that maybe they’ve touched on, but to have days to focus on these themes and these ideas. It was a beautiful collaborative thing. I’ve worked with each of them in various ways so I just knew it was going to work. And it worked better than I could have ever really dreamed. It went places I’d never have considered. That’s why you pick people and then you let the project do what it does instead of going, “It’s not exactly what I envisioned.” Well, usually because it’s better! So leave it alone and let it do what it’s going to do.

In this respect, do you see yourself as a mentor, or as a leader in this widening and overdue effort to infuse folk and roots music with more voices?

I’m always looking for ways to facilitate. People in these positions, like the folks putting on the Cambridge Folk Festival or at Smithsonian Folkways, they’re looking to me, and I’m like, “Hey these people, because they’re awesome.” And if that’s how I can use whatever little power I have in the world, that’s what I want to use it for. I’ve got my own career and it’s very important to me, but that’s also very important to me–creating the community of people that are doing this.

Because that was the strength of the Carolina Chocolate Drops. We were a band and we had each other. In a time where, even less than now, people were like, “Black people on banjos? What?”, we had each other and I know what that community can mean as an artist. It really gives you strength. And that was my idea with Our Native Daughters and with anything I’m (doing). Amythyst has opened for me. Leyla was part of the Chocolate Drops. JT and Ally (Birds of Chicago) — I’ve definitely championed them. I think that’s what we need to do for each other. If I’m in a position where somebody who has power asks me, I’m going to spread that around. Because I think that’s what you’re supposed to do.

They tell writers that it’s better to show than to tell. And it strikes me that roots music is moving from a phase of ‘telling’ about inclusion to a phase of showing. Is that fair to say?

I think so. I’m definitely moving that way in my own life. There was a lot of talking with the Chocolate Drops because you had to educate people. But there was also a lot of just doing. We found the balance; we’re going to contextualize this, but then we’re just going to play it. Because the facts are the facts and we’re not in a position to shame you about not knowing this. We didn’t know this. But I definitely found that over time, I’m tired. I just want to play and sing.

And the next record of mine is not a project. It’s not a mission. It’s coming out in May (I think) and Francesco and I did that together. It’s really all the worlds that I’ve been talking about and being in all together. I just want somebody to put it on and listen to it, and they don’t know anything about me, and they come away – I want them to love the record but I also want them to feel this aspect of nobody owns any sounds. Nobody owns any experiences in humanity. We’re taking all the sounds you heard in the ballet and the notion that humans have been moving since the beginning, and we’ve been affecting each other since the beginning.

So a religious trance drum from Iran works perfectly well with an Appalachian a cappella ballad. Because they’re representing universal human truths. It would be really nice for people to just experience that through sound and through the experience of the songs. And of course we’ll talk about it. But I’m kind of moving toward showing and inhabiting all the work that’s come up until now and living in that and taking that to where it needs to go.


Craig Havighurst covers music for WMOT Roots Radio. Hear the interview.

Rhiannon Giddens Prepares for ‘Lucy Negro Redux’ Ballet Premiere

Rhiannon Giddens will reach a new milestone in her ever-diversifying career as the Nashville Ballet hosts a world premiere of Lucy Negro Redux on Friday, February 8. According to press materials, the production explores the mysterious love life of William Shakespeare through the perspective of the “Dark Lady” for whom many of his famed sonnets were written.

Giddens collaborated with jazz musician Francesco Turrisi on the score. The narrative is based on a book by Caroline Randall Williams, a Nashville-based poet who also contributes spoken word during the performance. Paul Vasterling serves as Artistic Director.

In the video below, Giddens explains, “I said yes to the ballet because it’s a really interesting story and it fits very neatly with my mission of highlighting interesting and overlooked possible connections in history, and this is a very, very intriguing one.”

She adds, “I just hope audiences will take away that you can do things in a lot of different ways. And there are so many different ways to collaborate and there are so many different ways to make a statement. I think this ballet, this collaboration, has a really great opportunity to do that – to show audiences that ballet can be this, as well as Swan Lake and some of the other things that you see. In my world, that banjos and folk music can be partnered with really a high-art dance form and it works. So, it’s like, hopefully we bring the two sides together to see each other and go, ‘Hey, you’re not that different from me actually.'”


Photo of Francesco Turrisi and Rhiannon Giddens by Karen Cox