Gillian Welch & David Rawlings Join a Stunning John Anderson Tribute Album

Upon hearing the upcoming tribute album to his remarkable career, John Anderson simply had this to say: “Listening to everybody do their own takes on the songs shows how the songs really come through. And I thought to myself, ‘You might have been young and foolish back then, but you sure did pick some good songs.’ It’s very gratifying to know that some things really do not change, and a great country song remains a great country song. Any one person on the record would be a real tribute, but all of them together? It’s a pretty big deal for me personally.”

Something Borrowed, Something New: A Tribute to John Anderson comes out in August via Easy Eye Sound. Produced by Dan Auerbach and David Ferguson, it features a plethora of artists giving their renditions of selections from Anderson’s rich catalog. Auerbach explains, “We weren’t trying to piddle around and make the normal tribute record. It had to be the best singers with the best songs and the best arrangements, and they had to come into the studio. This wasn’t like, ‘Mail me the song, and we’ll put it together.’ I think it makes this record unique. I don’t think most tribute records are done like this. I think that’s why it sounds like a cohesive album. It feels like an amazing mix tape.”

The lineup speaks for itself. The roster of artists paying homage includes John Prine, Brent Cobb, Tyler Childers, Luke Combs, and more. To build anticipation for the album, Easy Eye released Gillian Welch & David Rawlings’ track early. Although they don’t appear in the video, they do give an inspired performance of “I Just Came Home to Count the Memories” over footage of scenic desert landscapes and historically rich communities that inhabit them. The single sets the table beautifully for what promises to be a stunning tribute to a legendary singer. Watch the video below.


Photo Credit: Henry Diltz

Seeking Bluegrass in LA, Ed Helms & Amy Reitnouer Jacobs Made a Scene With BGS

To commemorate the 10th birthday of the Bluegrass Situation, co-founders Ed Helms and Amy Reitnouer Jacobs are taking it all the way back to the beginning. In the first installment of an ongoing interview series, the enthusiastic bluegrass fans reveal how they first met, their shared vision for a modern aesthetic, and the meaning behind the unexpected (yet appropriate) name.

Amy: As we’re looking back on 10 years of The Bluegrass Situation, it occurred to me that you and I have never really reflected on how all of this started and how this thing kind of built up. So I wanted to get our own take on it and… reminisce, stroll down memory lane a bit, and think about it.

Ed: We need a little oral history for the archives! [laughs] And for our own… ’cause it’s exciting to reminisce a little bit.

Amy: I’ll kick it off and ask, what was your intro to bluegrass? Why do you care about this music to begin with and what drew you into it?

Ed: The earliest I can trace back would be growing up in Atlanta, Georgia. My mom’s from Nashville, so we would take road trips from Atlanta to Nashville all the time. In addition to that, I spent many, many summers at a summer camp in the Smoky Mountains in North Carolina. That’s another road trip that’s about a three or four-hour drive from Atlanta.

So, on those drives, we’re always pulling off at truck stops and whatever, and we would pick up cassette tapes at the checkout counter. And my dad, who grew up in Alabama, was always a big fan of opera and classical music. He would grab these string band tapes for some reason. And I started listening to these very generic, early string band tapes when I was 8 years old in the car. They didn’t resonate with me as artists, but the music connected with me somehow. And I associated it with those places — Nashville and the North Carolina mountains.

Then as I got older, I was one of those kids that kind of thought everybody was fake, you know, like Holden Caulfield. Just distressed by all the artificiality of our world and of the people around me and like, “Oh, everyone at school, everything is so performative. Like, who’s real? Who’s the real deal?” And that kind of drew me, musically, into older and older music. I got obsessed with authenticity and where are the roots of things. … I think it scratched some itch that I had for authenticity-seeking, and probably allowed me to feel superior to all my classmates in junior high.

Then when I could actually get to a record store, I remember the very first bluegrass album that I bought was the Bluegrass Album Band. I didn’t know who J.D. Crowe and Vassar Clements and Jerry Douglas were, but all I knew was that on the cover of this CD at Turtle’s Records & Tapes in Atlanta was guys holding banjos and guitars and mandolins. So I bought that album and to this day it’s one of my favorite albums. I’ve never asked Jerry Douglas about this, I should, but it felt like the intention of those albums was to kind of just be the ultimate catalog of, you know…

Amy: I mean, it’s called the Bluegrass Album Band.

Ed: Right. They just called themselves the most generic name. And it’s almost like they were just trying to create a library of excellent bluegrass artists playing the canon or something. Or maybe they were really ahead of their time with like meta irony and they were just like, “We’re going to call ourselves the Bluegrass Album Band, ’cause it’s hilarious.”

And of course Tony Rice’s guitar playing on that – I was very much into guitar at the time, I later picked up a banjo – Tony’s guitar playing was so magical to me. I could not understand how human hands could play what he was doing. I would just pour over these solos. I remember the solo to “Your Love Is Like a Flower,” it just was like, how the hell is that being played? I could not wrap my head around it. And I listened to it a million times, and I didn’t have the technology to slow it down, so I couldn’t do that.

Amy: That album and that band really represent a generational shift. It’s not newgrass. It’s playing the canon, but with this mix of the new guard and some folks with some real cred from the second generation.

Ed: You’re right. It isn’t an old sound, what they’re doing. It’s a new sound at that time, because no one was doing Tony Rice licks before Tony Rice. But the harmonies are timeless and the structure of the songs is very traditional. That album means so much to me and I listen to it to this day and I’m still blown away! I actually can play that solo from “Love Is Like a Flower” now, but only at about half speed. And it’s one of the proudest things, when I finally found – someone had transcribed it in tablature, and I was like, “This is string theory explained. This is like if you had Carl Sagan sit you down and explain the mysteries of the universe.” I was like, “Holy shit, I got it! The holy grail!”

Amy: Yeah. To me, it’s still magic. ‘Cause I am not someone who can play an instrument, at least very well, so when I first heard bluegrass, I was just like, “How does that happen? How do you even get the notes from your brain to your fingers and do it so well, and in a way that I’ve just never heard before?” It still kind of blows me away.

Ed: Can I ask you the same question? Where did you first connect to bluegrass music?

Amy: I grew up in rural Pennsylvania, and there was a lot of country and bluegrass around there. Admittedly, I didn’t like it because to me it represented… I mean, I was really busy listening to showtunes and learning Sondheim lyrics and stuff. I was that kid. And I just thought country and roots music was inherently uncool and representative of this place that I felt like I was stuck in.

It wasn’t until I went to college in North Carolina… It was probably the first few weeks of school, one of my housemates who is still a very dear friend of mine invited me to a show, and it was Nickel Creek. I had never heard of them. I had no idea what I was going in to and Erin said, “I just think you’re going to like this. Just come with me to the show. I’ll drive. We’ll go.” And I can honestly say, that show changed my life. I can still remember the whole show so clearly.

Ed: What year are we talkin’?

Amy: 2005? Somewhere around there. I was kind of reeling from it, because it had been a really long time since I felt like I had been challenged by music that was being played by young people, that I really connected with, but also was just kind of flummoxed by. From there it became a deep dive. I was really fortunate going to school where I did, that there was great bluegrass around. I mean, there was this bar about 30 minutes away called The Cave in Chapel Hill, and we used to go see the Steep Canyon Rangers play there every month. And I mean, this is a tiny underground basement bar, maybe holds 50 people, and they would just have bluegrass jams.

Ed: How close were you to Asheville?

Amy: It was about three hours from Asheville. Asheville is where we went for, like, fall break and our little weekend trips and stuff. We would go to Boone and Asheville, and even Mount Airy had a bluegrass fest that we went to. So that’s when I really started getting into it. And I could say, I think my first significant album purchase was pretty soon after that first concert. It was Why Should the Fire Die? by Nickel Creek. I played that into oblivion and had it in my car for like, 10 years, back when we kept stacks of CDs in our cars.

From there it kind of fell into the background, because I was studying film and I moved to New York. I was working all the time and didn’t really make space in my life for music. By the time I moved out to LA, I was working for a producer and I had one or two friends out here that I knew. Again, working a lot, not making any money and trying to find my place in the city, and not really connecting with a lot of the other assistants that I was meeting at the agencies. And I remember going to see the Get Down Boys at some bar on the west side of LA and having this thing reignited in me that I had felt back in college and was like, “OK, I think these are my people.” There was this momentum happening in LA at that particular time. And that’s how I started getting to know the scene out here and had the idea for the BGLA blog.

Ed: Tell us about BGLA.

Amy: I admittedly was a little bored at work. I was working at the Academy of Motion Pictures at this point, which was exciting, especially for three months of the year around the Awards, but the rest of the time was kind of slow. So I started this Blogspot and wrote about what was happening on the scene in Los Angeles. And then people started pitching me, cause I don’t think anybody was really covering it out here. So suddenly I was getting inquiries to interview these people… I mean, I started going really deep in the music and the history and background and getting to know the scene out here. But I remember getting connected to Sean Watkins (of Nickel Creek), and it was this beautiful, full-circle moment. It was the first time I met Sean and got to talk to him, and we became friends and kind of opened a whole other door to the roots music scene and what it could be. And then I think I met you pretty soon after that.

Ed: So when did we meet? I cannot remember.

Amy: Well, I remember when we first met, but I doubt you remember when we first met. I remember this because it was probably the most nervous I’ve been in my whole life. I saw you at a Sarah Jarosz show at Hotel Cafe. And I walked up to you and gave you one of my business cards for Bluegrass LA. And I was like, “I think you’ll like my blog.” That was it! And I don’t imagine you remember that, but that is technically the first time I met you.

Ed: At some point we had a cup of coffee to talk about possibilities.

Amy: Yes, that’s true.

Ed: But then maybe we bumped into each other… I assumed it was Largo, but I have the vaguest memory of getting a business card from you. So yeah, that part tracks.

Amy: Why don’t you talk about the LA Bluegrass Situation, because that predates me.

Ed: You weren’t even a part of the first LA Bluegrass Situation?

Amy: No. I was there. I went one night. But we didn’t know each other at that point. I just went as a fan.

Ed: The first time I ever went to Largo was when John Krasinski took me to see Aimee Mann playing at the Fairfax Largo. We went in through the back and I just was like, “Whoa, what is this incredible vibe?” This whole place is just so, so cool. And eventually Flanny (the owner of Largo) invited me to do stand-up on some people’s shows, and one night he said, “Why don’t you do a show?” And I thought, “OK, cool. It’d be fun to mix music and comedy.” So I think the first show that I did at Largo was called “Hams and Jams.” [Laughs] The idea was like, “Oh, it’s hams, like comedy people, and jams, music people!” And I just mixed up some comedians and musicians with a terrible name that Flanny was so gracious about rolling with.

We really loved that combination, but I was really struggling to wrap my head around the LA bluegrass scene. It just was so disparate, but somehow we managed to get excited about trying to cultivate the scene and coalesce things a little bit more. And I think that was the idea… that was the sort of original inertia behind the first LA Bluegrass Situation. The name literally just came from Flanny talking about it before we named it. He just kept talking about it as the bluegrass situation that we were dealing with. So then when it came time to be like, “What are we going to call it?” I was like, “Well, you’ve been saying this awesome thing because there’s something a little cheeky about a ‘situation.'” Like, it feels like, you know, “We got ourselves a situation, here!” Like it just kind of has some irreverence built into it.

So that’s what we named it, and Flanny and I both pulled as many strings as we could with whatever relationships we had at the time and put a totally magical lineup together. Like I still can’t wrap my head around it. I mean, it was Dave Rawlings and Gillian Welch and Steve Martin and Steep Canyon Rangers and Nickel Creek and Punch Brothers and the Infamous Stringdusters… Oh, and of course the Lonesome Trio, my crew, with my friends Ian and Jake. We were sort of the hosts.

Amy: I remember I got an email from you not long after that, which was pretty shocking. What was the impetus of that, do you remember?

Ed: Yeah, I think that I was feeling pretty heady after that first LA Bluegrass Situation and probably getting over my skis a little bit and being like, “We can create the ultimate hub of bluegrass for Los Angeles and it will be this Tower of Babel that everyone will flock to!” I had so many ideas. There were so many things that I found lacking in Los Angeles that I had taken for granted in New York. There are just so many website resources. “You want a banjo teacher? Look here, there’s tons in New York City. You want to see what shows are happening? Look here!” You could just find stuff in New York City and you couldn’t find stuff in Los Angeles.

Amy: I look at the branding of that initial site and that first logo — I think DKNG did our first logo in Santa Monica — and I remember being really proud of the fact that we didn’t look stereotypical of the era.

Ed: You’re so right. And I give you so much credit for that because the very first LA Bluegrass Situation, Hatch Show Print did a bunch of posters for us. And they were so cool. I still have a bunch and I’m really proud of that, but it was also leaning really hard into a very conventional, stereotypical bluegrass aesthetic. It was a funny wake-up call for me – that plus your input. It helped me realize that what we wanted to do and where we wanted to go as fans and supporters of this idiom was not retro, like it was…

Amy: Forward-thinking.

Ed: Forward. And that artists like Chris Thile were doing that musically, right? But there was a little bit of a reckoning of “What’s our brand going to feel like? What do we want it to evoke? And who do we want to connect with? Do we want to connect with young people who are finding this stuff for the first time and finding it really fresh and exciting?”

Amy: That was always the crux of it for me. To a large extent, that aesthetic is still very alive and well within the roots music community. I had an inkling that there was an audience that had different tastes, but still could love this music and that it didn’t all have to look the same way. I could have never predicted where it went and what we’ve worked on since, but I think at the beginning we were very “of the moment.” It was the same time that Mumford & Sons and the Lumineers were on the top of the charts, and there was this kind of “authenticity” movement taking place.

Ed: I remember going to business meetings with Hollywood producers and one guy had a banjo in his office. And I was like, “You play the banjo?” And he’s like, “No, no, but I want to learn!” But you’re right. It was a moment. I’ve felt like an old fuddy duddy since I was 12 years old, but I was like, “Was I ahead of the curve here?”

Amy: Yeah, similarly, I’ve kind of always felt like an old soul; I never really felt like I truly fit in to my time, so I think there was something that really drew me in to that zeitgeist, but what amazed me was that once we really got into it, it was so much more complex and modern and exciting than I ever expected.

Editor’s Note: Look for the next part of this conversation with Ed Helms and Amy Reitnouer Jacobs in the weeks ahead.

BGS Top 50 Moments: The LA Bluegrass Situation at Largo

It was 2010 when the true origins of “The Sitch” first materialized.  For five days in May, BGS founder Ed Helms congregated a lauded lineup of roots artists at the storied Largo at the Coronet Theatre in Los Angeles.  That first annual LA Bluegrass Situation festival included the likes of Steve Martin and the Steep Canyon Rangers, The Watkins Family Hour, Gillian Welch, Will Ferrell, Jackson Browne, The Infamous Stringdusters, and Ed’s Whiskey Sour Radio Hour variety showcase.

In the festivals that followed, LABS brought in the likes of Nickel Creek, John C. Reilly, the Punch Brothers, Willie Watson, and many others before broadening to bigger venues across Los Angeles.  The online iteration of “The Bluegrass Sitch” wouldn’t come to fruition for another two years, but the heart of it was all there, on stage at Largo, from the very start.


Photo Credit: Lincoln Andrew Defour

MIXTAPE: Thomas Csorba’s Songs for the Morning

During COVID, I rediscovered my love for waking up, drinking coffee, and listening to the right music in the mornings. This is a playlist for some of my favorite songs to compliment the most sacred time of the day. — Thomas Csorba

JJ Cale – “Cherry”

This is one of my favorite vibes not just of JJ Cale, but of music in general. He finds his groove and stays put. Why fix it if it ain’t broke?

Michael Hurley – “Lush Green Trees”

I’ve been a big fan of this Michael Hurley record for a little while, and it seems that some of the deep cuts strike me differently on the 100th listen. This is one of those songs — a beautiful, simple song with an earnest spirit to it.

Elizabeth Cotten – “Goin’ Down The Road Feelin Bad”

Elizabeth Cotten is one of those artists who I fell in love with at a pretty young age (thanks to a well-informed older brother). Her voice may not be everyone’s taste, but her singing and playing seem to really shine as the sun is just starting to rise.

Yusuf / Cat Stevens – “Father and Son”

This song has a really special place in my heart because it reminds me of my grandfather and his story as a refugee from Hungary in the ‘50s. It’s a wild picture of a conversation between a father and a son in that situation. This song got me thinking about writing my new song “For You” and pairs really nicely with a front porch morning.

Jerry Garcia, David Grisman – “The Thrill is Gone”

Sometimes I’ll wake up in the morning and listen to this record all the way through. Hearing some of these old songs in a new light has really unlocked something for me. This song in particular has a great vibe to it that really draws you in.

Anaïs Mitchell – “Tailor”

I’m obsessed with Anaïs Mitchell. Plain and simple. Her vocal delivery of these lines, and the lyric congruency throughout the song is as good as it gets.

Willis Alan Ramsey – “Muskrat Love (Muskrat Candlelight)”

Name me a sexier song about rodents — I bet you can’t! This song has the perfect cocktail of interesting lyrics and sonic vibe. The vocals are killer and the chord change right after the chorus just make me so happy.

Gillian Welch – “Winter’s Come and Gone”

This is a deep cut from Gillian’s catalog, but I think it’s one of my favorites. There’s a great quick minor 6 chord change that echoes some old-time songs that I love. It’s my favorite Gillian song to drink coffee to.

Big Bill Broonzy – “Glory of Love”

There’s a soft spot in my heart for Big Bill Broonzy. This song has been cut by a bunch of folks, but Big Bill’s version is by far my favorite. Love that he doesn’t start singing until the minute-thirty mark in the song. Effortless vibe and energy here from Big Bill.

Tony Joe White – “Little Green Apples”

I first heard this version of this song from a buddy this past year and I think it’ll end up being one of my most-played songs of the year. Tony Joe’s delivery of these lyrics helps paint the best scene in these verses. I’ll be holding on to this recording for a very, very long time.

Roger Miller – “Where Have all the Average People Gone”

I love Roger Miller’s voice in the morning. There’s something nostalgic to me about it. There’s no song that speaks to me more in this political and social climate than this one. Perhaps, even though we look at things differently, we can be kind to each other.

https://open.spotify.com/playlist/74b3fjg7bYPtXRoNK762OY?si=6e3546a3381444dc


Photo credit: Austin Leih

From “Ghost in This House” to “O Death,” Our 13 Favorite Boo-Grass Classics

Ah! There’s a chill in the air, color in the leaves, and a craving for the spookiest songs in bluegrass — it must be fall. Bluegrass, old-time, and country do unsettling music remarkably well, from ancient folk lyrics of love gone wrong to ghost stories to truly “WTF??” moments. If you’re a fan of pumpkins, hot cider, and murder ballads we’ve crafted this list of 13 spooky-season bluegrass songs just for you:

The Country Gentlemen – “Bringing Mary Home”

THE bluegrass ghost story song. THE archetypical example of “What’s that story, stranger? Well, wait ‘til you hear this wild twist…” in country songwriting. (Yes, that’s a country songwriting archetype.) The Country Gentlemen did quiet, ambling — and spooky — bangers better than anybody else in bluegrass.


Cherryholmes – “Red Satin Dress”

Fans of now-retired family band Cherryholmes will know how rare it was for father and bassist Jere to step up to the microphone to sing lead. His grumbling, coarse voice and deadpan delivery do this modern murder ballad justice and then some. 

One has to wonder, though, with so many songs about murderous, deceitful women in bluegrass — the overwhelmingly male songwriters across the genre’s history couldn’t be bitter and misogynist, could they? Could they?


Zach & Maggie – “Double Grave”

A more recent example of unsettling songwriting in bluegrass and Americana, husband-and-wife duo Zach & Maggie White give a whimsical, joyful bent to their decidedly creepy song “Double Grave” in the 2019 music video for the track. Just enough of the story is left up to the imagination of the listener. Feel free to color inside — or outside — of the lines as you decide just how the song’s couple landed in their double grave. 


Alison Krauss – “Ghost in This House”

Come for the iconic AKUS track, stay for the impeccable introduction by Alison. Equal parts cheesy and stunning, if you haven’t belted along to this song at hundreds of decibels while no one is watching, you’re lying. Not technically a ghost story, we’re sliding in this hit purely because a Nashville hook as good as this deserves mention in a spooky-themed playlist.


The Stanley Brothers – “Little Glass of Wine”

Ah, American folk music, a tradition that *checks notes* celebrates the infinity-spanning, universe-halting power of love by valorizing murdering objects of that love. Kinda makes you think, doesn’t it? Here’s a tried and true old lyric, offered by the Stanley Brothers in that brother-duet-story-song style that’s unique to bluegrass. What’s more scary than an accidental (on purpose) double poisoning? The Stanley Brothers might accomplish spooky ‘grass better than any other bluegrass act across the decades.


Missy Raines – “Blackest Crow”


A less traditional rendering of a folk canon lyric, Missy Raines’ “Blackest Crow” might not feel particularly terrifying in and of itself, but the dark imagery of crows, ravens, and their relatives will always be a spectre in folk music, if not especially in bluegrass. 


Bill Monroe – “Body and Soul”

The lonesome longing dirge of a flat-seven chord might be the spookiest sound in bluegrass, from “Wheel Hoss” to “Old Joe Clark” to “Body and Soul.” A love song written through a morbid and mortal lens, you can almost feel the distance between the object’s body and soul widening as the singer — in the Big Mon’s unflappable tenor — objectifies his love, perhaps not realizing the cold, unfeeling quality of his actions. It’s a paradox distilled impossibly perfectly into song.


Rhiannon Giddens – “O Death”

Most fans of roots music know “O Death” from the O Brother, Where Art Thou? soundtrack and the version popularized by Ralph Stanley and the Stanley Brothers. On a recent album, Rhiannon Giddens and Francesco Turrisi reprise the popular song based on a different source — Bessie Jones of the Georgia Sea Island Singers.

The striking aural image of Stanley singing the song, a capella, in the film and on the Down from the Mountain tour will remain forever indelible, but Giddens’ version calls back to the lyrics’ timelessness outside of the Coen Brothers’ or bluegrass universes and reminds us of just how much of American music and culture are entirely thanks to the contributions of Black folks.


Johnson Mountain Boys – “Dream of a Miner’s Child”

Mining songs are some of the creepiest and most heartbreaking — and back-breaking — songs in bluegrass, but this classic performance from the Johnson Mountain Boys featuring soaring, heart-stopping vocals by Dudley Connell, casts the format in an even more blood-chilling light: Through the eyes of a prophetic, tragic dream of a miner’s child. The entire schoolhouse performance by the Johnson Mountain Boys won’t ever be forgotten, and rightly so, but this specific song might be the best of the long-acclaimed At the Old Schoolhouse album. 

Oh daddy, don’t go to the mine today / for dreams have so often come true…


Emmylou Harris, Alison Krauss, Gillian Welch – “Didn’t Leave Nobody But the Baby”

A lullaby meets a field holler song on another oft-remembered track from O Brother, Where Art Thou? The disaffected tone of the speaker, in regards to the baby, the devil, all of the above, isn’t horrifying per se, but the sing-songy melody coupled with the dark-tinged lyric are just unsettling enough, with the rote-like repetition further impressing the slightly spooky tone. It’s objectively beautiful and aesthetic, but not… quite… right… Perhaps because any trio involving the devil would have to be not quite right? 


AJ Lee & Blue Summit – “Monongah Mine” 

Another mining tale, this one based on a true — and terrifying — story of the Monongah Mine disaster in 1907, which is often regarded as the most dangerous and devastating mine accident in this country’s history. AJ Lee & Blue Summit bring a conviction to the song that might bely their originating in California, because they make this West Virginia tale their own.


Jake Blount – “Where Did You Sleep Last Night”

“In the Pines” is one of the most haunting lyrics in the bluegrass lexicon, but ethnomusicologist, researcher, and musician Jake Blount didn’t source his version from bluegrass at all — but from Nirvana. That’s just one facet of Blount’s rendition, which effortlessly queers the original stanzas and adds a degree of disquieting patina that’s often absent from more tired or well-traveled covers of the song. A reworking of a traditional track that leans into the moroseness underpinning it.


The Stanley Brothers – “Rank Stranger”

To close, we’ll return to the Stanley Brothers for an often-covered, much-requested stalwart of the bluegrass canon that is deceptively terrifying on closer inspection. Just who are these rank strangers that the singer finds in their hometown? Where did they come from? Why do none of them know who this person or their people are? Why are none of these questions seemingly important to anyone? Even the singer himself seems less than surprised by finding an entire village of strangers where familiar faces used to be. 

For a song so commonly sung, and typically in religious or gospel contexts or with overarchingly positive connotations, it’s a literal nightmare scenario. Like a bluegrass Black Mirror episode without any sort of satisfying conclusion. What did they find? “I found they were all rank strangers to me.” Great, so we’re right back where we started. Spooky.


Take the Journey: 17 Songs for a Sunny and Warm Summer Vacation

In July we put together a playlist of bluegrass songs for summer vacation and once the inspiration was flowing, it was difficult to stop! We thought we should return to the theme, but slightly zoomed out, to include songs from across the roots music landscape. With the summer still shining, enjoy these 17 folk, Americana, and country songs perfect for your road trip playlist.

“Ride Out in the Country” – Yola

Yola was a 2020 Best New Artist nominee at the Grammys and she’s just returned with a new, full-length album on Easy Eye Sound, Stand For Myself. The entire project is lush and resplendent, like the glory days of orchestral, big-sound country-pop in the ‘60s and ‘70s. For this playlist, though, we return to her prior release, Walk Through Fire, and the perfectly country track, “Ride Out in the Country.” Take the scenic byways and crank the volume!


“I Like It When You’re Home” – Della Mae

One of the nicest silver linings of vacation is missing home – and that delicious feeling of returning to your own space and your own bed after being away. And your loved one(s), too! Della Mae captures that sentiment in this jammy, rootsy track from their album, Headlight. Take the day off, drive north, sit by a lake.


“A Little Past Little Rock” – Lee Ann Womack

A truly quintessential driving song. A must-add even if your vacation route comes nowhere near Arkansas. The baritone guitar intro, the shout-along-with-the-lyrics chorus, the whimsically late ‘90s production. A banger. A bop.


“Sunny and Warm” – Keb’ Mo’

Keb’ Mo’ is a master of vibes. His single “Sunny and Warm” showcases the acoustic blues musician in a more traditional R&B light – and the impact and result are simply golden. This track will have you craving your happy place, wherever that warm and sunny locale may be.


“Heavy Traffic Ahead” – Bill Monroe

Look, we’re The Bluegrass Situation! We’ve gotta get our bluegrass kicks in somewhere – bluegrass is roots music, after all. Given that we left this classic by the Big Mon himself off our Bluegrass Songs for Summer Vacation we felt it was worth inclusion here. And worth a mention so that you’ll go check out the entirely bluegrass playlist, too!


“Country Radio” – Indigo Girls

Finally a country song about country radio – and cruising around aimlessly listening to it – that is enjoyable and free of the guilt associated with the false nostalgia, conservative politics, authenticity signalling, and post-2000s country. Especially the kind most often played on the radio! This Indigo Girls track is testament to all the folks out there who love country music, even if it doesn’t always love them back. Don’t worry, it will. Eventually! (Read the BGS interview.)


“White Noise, White Lines” – Kelsey Waldon

If you catch yourself daydreaming, in a dissociative or meditative trance as you keep it between the lines, Kentucky-born singer-songwriter Kelsey Waldon has the exact soundtrack for you. “Whie Noise, White Lines,” the title track of her most recent album, speaks to that near-trope-ish phenomenon of losing oneself amid the countless miles traveled while living the life of a traveling musician. Waldon, as in most of her music, accomplishes this motif without stereotypes or clichés, and the result is a song that will be a staple on vacation playlists for decades to come.


“Table For One” – Courtney Marie Andrews

A variation on the same theme, this time from Courtney Marie Andrews, “Table For One” is gauzy and lonesomely trippy. “You don’t wanna be like me / this life ain’t free,” the singer pleads, seeking a sense of reality in a life almost entirely abided within liminal spaces. Find peace in the redwoods, but try to hold on to it. You might lose it twenty miles later.


“Two Roads” – Valerie June

Cosmic and longing, Valerie June distills Kermit the Frog’s “the lovers, the dreamers, and me” into album form with her latest outing, The Moon and Stars: Prescriptions For Dreamers. Whatever bug you’ve been bitten by – rambling, restlessness, cabin fever, listlessness – let this song and this album scratch that itch. And as you let the miles fade behind you, on whichever of the two roads you take, don’t forget to look up… at the moon and stars and beyond.


“Christine” – Lucy Dacus

Whether or not you’ve experienced the beautiful, transcendent, and heart-rending forbidden love of being queer — on the outside looking in on love that society has constructed to which you’ll never have access — Lucy Dacus’ fantastic, alt/indie roots pop universe will give you a crystalline window into this very particular iteration of unrequited love on “Christine.” The song feels almost as though you’ve woken from a warm, sunny, time-halting afternoon nap in the back seat of a car yourself.


“It’s a Great Day to Be Alive” – Darrell Scott

Darrell Scott goes two for two, landing on both our bluegrass summer vacation round-up and our rootsy list, too! “It’s a Great Day to Be Alive” is THE song for the moment you realize you’re out of the office, away from your chores, without a care in the world — whether you have rice cooking in your microwave or not.


“Hometown” – Lula Wiles

For those summers when all you can muster is a trip home. Lula Wiles don’t just trade in nostalgia and hometown praise, though, they take on the subject with a genuine, measured perspective that picks up paradoxes, turns them over, and places them back down for listeners. It’s a subtly charming earworm, too.


“Heavenly Day” – Patty Griffin

“Oh heavenly day / All the clouds blew away / Got no trouble today…” The exact intention to be channeling during vacation! Don’t let your summer getaway be one of those vacations from which you end up needing a vacation. Leave your troubles behind, have a heavenly day.


“Midnight in Harlem” – Tedeschi Trucks Band

Your travels may not bring you even within the same state as Harlem, but this song had still better be on your road trip playlist. There’s almost no song better to put on at midnight, wherever you may be roaming, than Tedeschi Trucks’ “Midnight in Harlem.”


“Outbound Plane” – Suzy Bogguss

Every time I step into an airport my anxiety seems to sing, “I don’t want to be standing here with this ticket for an outbound plane.” It’s always true. This writer has not yet returned to the jetways post-COVID, so we’ll see how that goes. At least there will be the security and comfort of this jam (composed by Nanci Griffith and Tom Russell) from Suzy Bogguss’ heyday.


“455 Rocket” – Kathy Mattea

There are plenty of modern versions of muscle cars available and on the road today, but not a single one is an Oldsmobile 455 Rocket! Kathy Mattea represents the rockabilly/Americana tradition of paeans to automobiles and gearhead culture with this loping tribute to a 455 Rocket, an early cut for Gillian Welch and David Rawlings. If you happen to take your country drives in a muscle car, regardless of brand, this track is for you.


“Take the Journey” – Molly Tuttle

What better way to conclude our playlist than with this always-timely reminder from Molly Tuttle? It might be a cliché, though it really is true: It’s about the journey, not the destination. So take the journey! Enjoy its twists, turns, and be in the moment. And take some clawhammer guitar along with you.


BGS 5+5: Anya Hinkle

Artist: Anya Hinkle
Hometown: Asheville, North Carolina
Latest album: Eden and Her Borderland
Personal nicknames (or rejected band names): Anyabird

Which artist has influenced you the most … and how?

I guess far and away I have to answer — Gillian Welch. I grew up in the New River Valley of Virginia listening to Tony Rice, Norman Blake, Taj Mahal, Hot Tuna, Muddy Waters, Grateful Dead, and Old and in the Way, loved bluegrass and blues, but also female folk singers like Joan Baez and Judy Collins, pop stars like Madonna and Cyndi Lauper, and songwriters like Sarah McLachlan, Natalie Merchant, and Suzanne Vega. It just took Gillian to come around with her Revival album and put all that together for me, that you could incorporate all those great roots sounds into something completely modern and original. I was living in California at the time I heard her first album. I grabbed my fiddle and headed straight down to 5th String Music in Berkeley and started going to every bluegrass jam I could find. I thank her for giving me the idea that I could do it too — because of her genius, I could begin to imagine myself singing and playing guitar and writing songs too. It’s important to have someone you can look up to and that you can relate to so you can even have the idea in the first place.

What’s the toughest time you ever had writing a song?

For more than a dozen years now, I’ve been hanging around the Cumberlands with my buddy “Hippie” Jack Stoddart, someone who, in his rough and audacious way, brings people together to make a lot of magic. Hippie said to me one day, “I want to introduce you to Zona.” He’d been doing a lot of outreach work out of an old school bus bringing groceries and coats and toys and stuff to people living in former mining towns in Middle Tennessee. So he brought me up the mountain to meet the hardened sweetness that is Zona Abston. We sat around her kitchen table and she told me her life story, a miner’s daughter, growing up with little education and no money, not much luck or hope. When we collapsed back in the truck, Hippie said to me, “You better write this shit down!” And so I did. I wrote every detail: the cancer, the hunger, the cheating, the shining, the debt, the babies, the heartbreak. I came back with a mess of notes and thought, “How do I make a song out of this?” So I sat down and tried to pull out the most specific and moving details of everything she told me and created a ballad for her. I was super nervous to play it for her because, well it was HER life. SHE had to live it. But when I sang it for her the tears rolled down her beautiful face. She said, yup it’s all true, every word of it.

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

I actually thought about this a lot earlier this year, during the pandemic when I was trying to understand what my purpose was in music when it seemed like the industry was going to hell. I decided to focus on three things, and wrote them on a yellow sticky note that is taped in front of my desk for quick reference. The first is authenticity, and a commitment to truth and honesty to who I am as an artist. It’s a challenge to believe that it’s all already inside. I don’t need to grasp at something outside of myself. I just need to continue to learn to trust myself and be myself. The second thing is connection — connection with other artists and musicians, connections with my fans and supporters, and connections with anyone along the path. Those beautiful relationships are the foundation for anything I can possibly hope to accomplish in this lifetime. Saying “yes” and valuing the people that show up for me is oxygen. The third thing is creativity — growth and discovery. Allowing myself to surrender to the journey, giving up thinking I have to have everything figured out and under control. I need to just submit to curiosity, openness, and faith.

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

Before I was a musician I was trained as an ethnobotanist. I traveled half the world studying plants and their uses and connections to culture. I love referring specifically to plant species in my songs because they can be so symbolic in our physical world. For example, in the the title track for my new record, Eden and Her Borderlands, I use a couple of plants that carry a deeper meaning. The cedar is fragrant and twisted, it’s green the year round, its oils are used to protect against decay and disease, it is sacred and ancient in its symbolism. I also use the sycamore. It is stately and grand, always grows near sweet water. It is often a boundary and its presence on the landscape signals a threshold that we approach and then cross over. Adding these botanical details to the song is like adding spices to a recipe, it gives more depth, even for those that might not know anything about botany. And who knows, maybe it will inspire people to love plants like I do!

How often do you hide behind a character in a song or use “you” when it’s actually “me”?

I love this question because initially there can be so much fear in exposing your true self. Absolutely mortifying to lay bare the thoughts and emotions of a real human, the one behind the Facebook posts and the stage persona and the person you think you are or wish you were. The real one with all the real flaws, that is the person that is actually interesting. But the songs really push yourself (myself!!!) to look in the mirror and substitute the “you” with “me,” to get personal. Well, it’s a journey of acceptance and insight. Getting personal is the thing that connects us to the rest of humanity and, honestly, the thing that makes a good song, the thing that makes a song relatable.

I recently took a songwriting course with Mary Gauthier. In the song I shared, I kept referring to myself as “babe.” She said, who is babe? She focuses a lot on pronouns, you know, who are we talking about here? Because in our heads, it’s always about us. It can’t NOT be. We are trying to figure out what the hell we are doing here and if we are at all worthy of anything we are pretending to do. It takes a lot of working through fear to write songs. It’s good work.


Photo credit: Sandlin Gaither

BGS 5+5: Anna Tivel

Artist: Anna Tivel
Hometown: Portland, Oregon
Latest Album: Blue World

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

Literature and poetry really get in my bloodstream and make me want to write, all those vivid words and ways of telling a thing. I get the itch to write the most from reading things that unravel like a song but are in much longer form. Right now I’m digging deep through the novels and short stories of Annie Proulx and finding so much inspiration. The way she spins a story, unadorned and brutally human, feels honest in this way I’m forever working toward with songs. Andre Dubus sparks a similar feeling, this gut-punch of everyday struggle told in a way that feels just like reality, but more stunningly laid out in bite-sized, brilliantly observed and relatable moments. I dream of writing songs that make people feel that way.

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

Music has always been the place I felt most at home in my mind, where I could just be, work things out and communicate in a slower, more intentional way. I first found that freedom playing violin as a kid, backing people up later, learning that kind of conversation without speaking that feels so powerful. I started writing songs when I was about 23 and it was a completely magnetic force of expression that I must have been really hurting for because it took hold of me immediately and forcefully. I don’t remember consciously thinking, “This is what I want to do with my life,” just couldn’t seem to think about anything else. I’m forever grateful to be able to move through the world this way. It constantly pushes me out of my box, allows me to bump up against the world, try to see it more clearly and with more curiosity all the time, try to reflect something true.

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

Seems like touring is always shaping the way nature plays out in my writing. You’re on these long expansive drives through empty country, red canyon cliffs, vultures, sun bleached sagebrush, and heat waves on the blacktop that stretch out farther than you can see. And then two days later you’re in a dense forest, lush and wet and forty shades of green darkness. And then you’re suddenly in a giant metropolis. Watching it all change for hours and hours out the window feels like a recipe of sorts, like gathering all the images that hold an emotion to draw on later when a song is forming. I love to set a scene for the emotion of a story to play out in, and this constant observing of the natural (and man-made) world through car and plane windows seems to help tie human struggle and beauty to place and landscape in a way that feels necessary.

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

I want so badly to have pre-show and studio rituals, like vocal warmups or a three-piece show suit or something, anything. Mostly I let shows eat me alive in good and bad ways and I’m trying to work on being more intentional about that stuff. When I have time and space, I like to read something beautiful or listen to something that moves me before a show, sit somewhere all alone and take in some words and music that make me feel free and vast and inspired. It feels really good to get up on stage and get the chance to play my heart out after that. I’m going to do it more, just decided. OK I have a ritual starting now.

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

Write and write. And play songs for people. And try to be 90 years old someday and still loving these two things with wild abandon.


Photo credit: Matt Kennelly

The BGS Radio Hour – Episode 211

Welcome to the BGS Radio Hour! Since 2017, this weekly radio show and podcast has been a recap of all the great music, new and old, featured on the digital pages of BGS. This week, we bring you new music from our June Artist of the Month, Chris Thile, as well as Robert Finley, Oliver Wood, and much more! Remember to check back every week for a new episode of the BGS Radio Hour.

APPLE PODCASTS, SPOTIFY

Robert Finley – “Sharecropper’s Son”

Singer-songwriter Robert Finley first picked up a guitar at age 11. He was raised in Jim Crow-era Louisiana amongst a family of sharecroppers and knew from a young age that his dream was to sing. Now, at sixty-seven-years-old, that dream is alive and well with his newly-released, third solo album, Sharecropper’s Son, made in collaboration with Dan Auerbach of The Black Keys. BGS recently caught up with Finley to talk about the new album, and how his upbringing and vast life experiences have shaped his music.


DoomFolk StarterKit – “Look at Miss Ohio”

For David Swick of DoomFolk StarterKit, recording any of Gillian Welch’s work is an honor. His cover of “Look at Miss Ohio” has a balance of lightness and melancholy in its’ arrangement, which Swick says represents the song’s theme of “making peace with uncertainty.”

Zach Person – “Wanna Fly”

Zach Person was inspired to write “Wanna Fly” after reflecting upon the social and political intensity of 2020. He cites “Dylan-esque” protest songs and the openness of the western plains as the two main influences of this powerful track.

Lula Wiles – “Call Me Up”

“Call Me Up,” from Lula Wiles’ new album, Shame and Sedition, is a lighter track amongst an album that aims to transform listeners and enact change. Between tender harmonies and mellow piano chords, the trio describes meeting with an old acquaintance, singing, “I know you’ve been taking it rough / You gotta just call me up.”

Oliver Wood – “Face of Reason”

BGS spoke with Oliver Wood of The Wood Brothers for a 5+5 in support of his new solo record, Always Smilin’. He told us about his biggest influences — from Ray Charles to Levon Helm — as well as how hard times can be processed through songwriting. When asked to write a mission statement for his career, he stated: “Just be completely yourself, because that’s all you have, and that’s enough.”

Dana Sipos – “Breathing Barrel”

Dana Sipos’ “Breathing Barrel” is a meditation of being at peace with the present moment. Written immediately upon returning home to the city from a music residency at the Banff Centre for the Arts, deep in the foothills of the Canadian Rockies, this song is an attempt to integrate a very powerful experience into the more mundane, everyday life.

Shannon McNally – “This Time”

Shannon McNally reimagines Waylon Jennings’ “This Time” by giving the lyrics a personal spin — singing not about a lover, but instead about her relationship with the music business as an artist and as a woman. For McNally, the song’s directness is a breath of fresh air, and it helped her get into the headspace that permitted her to sing the rest of the album.

Chris Thile – “Laysong”

The name Chris Thile is likely familiar to fans in any corner of roots music. Growing up in southern California, Thile rose to popularity with his childhood (and sometimes still adult) band Nickel Creek, and has since helped form the Punch Brothers, the Goat Rodeo Sessions, and other noteworthy collaborations. However, this summer Thile brings something special — a completely solo album entitled Laysongs. In celebration, he is our Artist of the Month, so be sure to stick around all month long for exclusive content from Chris Thile.

Mara Connor – “Old Man”

Mara Connor recorded “Old Man” at the same age Neil Young was when he wrote it about a caretaker who lived on his ranch. When she first heard the track, she was struck by the amount of empathy the songwriter exhibited at such a young age. Connor states that the song is an affirmation of how the world would be a better place if we took the time to see the humanity in each other’s eyes.

The Grascals – “Thankful”

2020 was a difficult year for us all, and it seems that we need uplifting music more now than ever before. “Thankful” is just that. The lyrics are a powerful reminder of the things we have to be grateful for and of the important things in life.

Rising Appalachia – “Catalyst”

Inspired by their recent release and the blooming of spring, Rising Appalachia’s Leah Song created a Mixtape for BGS, entitled Rising Appalachia’s Love Songs for Blooming Spring. The playlist features heartbreakers and heart-menders from John Prine to Hozier that are sure to make your heart bloom.

Eli Lev – “As It Is”

Eli Lev’s “As It Is” began to develop halfway through a 10-day meditation retreat he went on near the Florida coast at the beginning of the year. He states, “I experienced silent sunrises over the ocean and brilliant sunsets over the bay that brought on infinite color variations and led me to a unique insight that everything is changing while staying exactly ‘as it is’ in every moment.”

Kyle LaLone – “Learning How to Love”

Featuring the sweet sounds of classic country twang and harmonies by singer-songwriter Michaela Anne, Kyle Lalone’s “Learning How to Love” is a song that details the process of understanding how to be a good partner and showing up for someone in a relationship.


Photos: (L to R) Robert Finley by Alysse Gafjken; Shannon McNally by Alysse Gafjken; Chris Thile by Josh Goleman

LISTEN: DoomFolk StarterKit, “Look at Miss Ohio”

Artist: DoomFolk StarterKit
Hometown: Portland, Oregon
Song: “Look at Miss Ohio”
Album: Like You Mean It Records Sampler Vol. 1
Release Date: May 21, 2021
Label: Like You Mean It Records

In Their Words: “Recording any of Gillian Welch’s work is such an honor. ‘Look at Miss Ohio’ holds this fantastic tension between societal and familial pressures and a deep desire to find new ways of living. The line that pushes me over the edge is ‘I know all about it so you don’t have to shout it / I’m gonna straighten it out somehow.’ There’s so much there — it’s a line you might shout at a parent defensively, but it is also packed with utter humility and self-awareness. For me, this song depicts the story of someone choosing to embrace ambiguity while living with the hope that it’s going to shake out alright, somehow. Making peace with the fact of uncertainty is a theme that’s found its way into some of my own songs here and there. I’ve tried to represent that in this cover with a balance of lightness and melancholy in the arrangement.” — David Swick, DoomFolk StarterKit


Photo credit: Emily Barrett