Sister Sadie Are
At Their Strongest, Together

The last time BGS spoke at length with Sister Sadie, in December 2020, they were two-time IBMA winners, GRAMMY nominees, and clearly on their trailblazing way with two albums to their credit. Fast-forward five years and the group, now in its thirteenth year, is back as BGS Artist of the Month with their new and fourth album, All Will Be Well, following last year’s No Fear.

Sister Sadie 2025 includes founding members Gena Britt (banjo, vocals) and Deanie Richardson (fiddle) with Jaelee Roberts (guitar, lead vocals), Dani Flowers (guitar, vocals), Rainy Miatke (mandolin, vocals), and Katie Blomarz-Kimball (bass, vocals). Along the way to solidifying this lineup, the band notched a few more personal and professional milestones. Since becoming the first all-female band to win IBMA Entertainer of the Year in 2020 they’ve won three Vocal Group of the Year awards from the trade organization as well; performed at The Grand Ole Opry numerous times, fulfilled what they describe as “our ongoing bucket list” of goal festivals and other dates they hoped to play; charted several Number One singles; and were among the artists requested to perform at Patty Loveless’s Country Music Hall of Fame induction.

All Will Be Well is the band’s second project for the Mountain Home Music Company label. It was tracked at Crossroads Recording Studios in Arden, North Carolina, with Clay Miller engineering and Richardson producing. While the band did not set out to write a concept album, All Will Be Well is in many ways just that in its explorations of life lessons, experiences gained, and finding closure – the latter powerfully represented in “Let The Circle Be Broken,” a revealing take on ending the cycle of generational trauma.

Sister Sadie gathered together from various points to speak with BGS. Their six-member Artist of the Month interview, following, has been edited for space and clarity.

How have your many accomplishments to date brought the band to this point?

Deanie Richardson: We never intended to be a full-time band. We were friends who played a one-off at the Station Inn. That went so well that we decided to do another one. Gena started getting phone calls from promoters and we thought, “That might be fun. Let’s do it.” From there, we got a call from a record label and it grew organically, doing everything ourselves, because we weren’t looking to do it a hundred percent.

With every person that’s come into Sister Sadie, the whole band has shifted. The energy changes every time you bring in a new vocalist, a new player. You have to just let this thing guide itself. With each personnel change comes a new sound and you have to rebuild and regroup. I feel like that has happened since the last time we spoke with you guys. With Katie and Rainy here now, the energy feels perfect.

We finally have this team around us – booking agents, management, publicists – helping now and we get to focus more on the music and the amazing women in this band. So, for me, it feels like every step led to where we are right now, and it feels so right.

Gena Britt: With these personnel changes we’ve gained some wonderful songwriters, and they bring this creativity to the band. Like Deanie said, we’ve evolved into what we are today and that has a lot to do with being together, being creative together, growing as a band, and Deanie and I growing as businesswomen. It’s incredible to think of where we were when we first started and had no intention of doing this. And here we are. We have an incredible team behind us and it’s working. All the ingredients are here.

Let’s talk about the theme of All Will Be Well and sequencing the songs to tell that story.

Dani Flowers: When we went in to make the record, we definitely did not go, “This is [the title], this is the theme, and this is what it’s going to be about.” But it almost feels like we did.

We all write songs and send them to each other in Dropbox, an Apple Music playlist, and listen to them over and over. We put our opinions in as to what we might want to sing, what we hear other people singing, what songs we think are a good fit for the band, and it comes together into this thing that we almost never could have planned.

I do feel there is an overarching production style, even a theme, throughout the sequencing. But it wasn’t planned, which is the crazy thing. Deanie did the sequencing, and even outside of the band we’ve had so many folks comment on how it’s such a journey. I think the sequencing on this record is really something.

DR: The title No Fear was about Gena and I facing fears of losing some powerful personnel and deciding, “Do we want to quit? Do we want to keep going?” We decided we wanted to be all in, no fear, let’s get a team around us and do this thing. When Dani brought “All Will Be Well,” the Gabe Dixon song, I thought instantly that would be a great title, coming from No Fear: “We’re going all in on this thing, and whatever happens, all will be well.”

Once we finished the record, I started listening to the tunes. I would go on walks around the neighborhood, listen to the record over and over, and it felt like a journey. It felt like you’re taking a trip or a drive, starting with “Winnebago.” Jaelee’s singing is so powerful – that had to be the first song. You step in this Winnebago, you’re going through your drive, and then “I Wish It Would Rain” just felt like the next thing.

I imagined this person going through … call it a trip or just life in general and that being the case with this sequencing. It’s telling a big story. There’s a lot of personal connections in the writing and the song choices, from “Let The Circle Be Broken” to “First Time Liar” to all of it. This record is a representation of the deepest parts of all of us.

DF: Sister Sadie members had a hand in nine out of these thirteen songs. So there’s a lot of originals here, there’s a lot of our personal stories, our personal feelings and experiences, and it’s not perfect. I love that the record is called All Will Be Well. It’s not “all is well at this very moment.” It’s that even when we make mistakes, when we are in good moods, in bad moods, we have this overall feeling that we are going to get where we want to go. It might not be butterflies and daisies right now, but we know we’re going to get there.

Jaelee Roberts: The sequencing really is quite something, because these songs means so much to all of us individually. Even though I didn’t have a hand in writing them, at the time that I was in my life, some of these songs meant so much to me. The fact that I got to sing some of them, that they trust me to sing their songs, is so cool. I was excited when Deanie sent the sequencing to listen to our final mixes in that order, because it really is like going on a journey. The sequencing is absolutely perfect.

Can you select one track and walk us through the recording process?

DR: We all play acoustic instruments, so from sitting in my kitchen with our instruments, working out arrangements, that’s how we walk into the sessions. We recorded at Crossroads and we trust Clay Miller a lot. He’s great. He sets up the mics, we walk in and record. There’s not a lot of discussion as far as gear and mics.

The song lets you know what it needs. It will arrange itself and produce itself. “Winnebago,” for instance, has dissonant chords. I heard right away a B-3 organ accenting that. So on that song there’s electric guitar, steel guitar, the B-3, some piano. We brought things in that add an incredible amount of texture to our bluegrass instrumentation, our acoustic instruments.

GB: When we got to the studio, I had just acquired a baritone banjo that I hadn’t had an opportunity to play very much. It really lent itself to the sound of “Winnebago” and “Do What You Want.” I don’t know how to explain the feel of that song, but it just fit so well. So I played baritone banjo on a couple of tunes, which was great.

How do your playing styles and backgrounds come together to create the band’s sound?

DF: We are all such music fans, and through our upbringings and our own exploration of music, we’ve all been exposed to the best songs. We have pretty high standards when it comes to writing our lyrics and what we want to sing. We love a good lyric. We love creative harmonies. We have great instrumentalists in this band, so we especially love a melody with a really cool hook.
You can find that in any genre. Onstage we quite often cover rock and roll songs, pop songs, old and new country songs. Katie comes from a jazz background. Rainy comes more from West Coast bluegrass. Gena and Jaelee and Deanie all come from traditional bluegrass. I come strictly from a country background. You can find a good song, good lyrics, good melodies, in any genre.

Katie Blomarz-Kimball: My background is in jazz. I didn’t really grow up with country or bluegrass music. Since I’ve lived in Nashville for about ten years now, I’ve definitely dipped my toe into the genres, but it’s hard when you’re playing with some of the best bluegrass musicians on the scene to come in and not be like, “Am I good enough for this? Can I do this?”

One of the very first things Deanie said to me at the rehearsal two hours before the first show I ever played with them was, “I want you to play like you would play it.” That was important to me, because there is a really interesting perspective that can happen when people from different backgrounds come together in one group. And I think it can change, depending on what naturally migrates as a group. Adding some of my quirky bass playing can influence one way or another for things to have a different feel or vibrancy behind it that maybe shifts the music slightly. It’s definitely a fun part of this experience for me.

DR: We all come from different genres of music that we love, but we have country and bluegrass as a deep-rooted passion. That’s basically why we’re here. Because we are so creatively different, I think that’s a plus. Each of us brings something to the situation that changes it, adds to it, and you have to figure out ways to highlight or bring to the table everyone’s strengths. Once you do that, the sound starts coming together.

Deanie, you produced All Will Be Well. What does the term “producer” mean to you? Is it a democratic process?

DR: It is democratic up to pushing the red button. Everybody has input, but there comes a time when you have to call it, when you have to say, “That’s brilliant. I’m sure you think you could do it better, but I don’t need better. I need feel; I need it to feel a certain way.” This is a killer band, and they don’t need me to tell them how to play or sing. But there has to be some person that says, “You just wrecked me, you just turned me into a puddle on the floor, and I’m not going let you do it again because of that.” That’s what a producer is for me.

We all arrange these songs, pick these songs, write these songs, and at the end of the day, we’re making great records that I am so proud of. That’s not because of something I did. That’s because of something this band did. It’s a group effort. It is six very talented, capable women who I respect and value tremendously. It’s just that there has to be someone calling the shots, if you will.

Could we talk about writing “Let The Circle Be Broken” and presenting it to the band?

DR: We spend a lot of time in the car together, riding up and down the road, so we talk about everything. We know each other’s deepest, darkest secrets. We know the pain we’ve been through, the love we’ve been through, the relationships we’ve been in. We know everything about each other. I love being with a group of people you’re that connected to and that close with, and getting to be creative with them and make music together. That’s the ultimate thing for me. That’s honestly why I stay in tears all the time – because I love these women so much.

Dani, Erin Enderlin, and I got together right after my dad died. We were talking about all the shit I went through as a child growing up with him and all that Dani went through having an abusive mother. Each of the women in this band has experienced some form of generational trauma or abuse from someone in our lives. When we brought the song to the band, everyone knew my story and Dani’s, so it wasn’t a surprise.

Everyone was very supportive about telling the story and getting the song out, and it felt like the right time to do it. Once he passed away, I was ready to finally talk about it. It’s a very personal story, but it doesn’t say anything specific about what I went through. The song hopefully relates to anyone who’s experienced any sort of abuse.

We didn’t write it to make a statement. We wrote it because that’s where we all were, having that conversation that day. The more we talked, the more the song came to life. It was a beautiful thing and very therapeutic to write. I am extremely proud of how it came out, what each girl brought to this tune, and how they supported and loved me through it.

How do you protect yourself, mentally and emotionally, when performing the song live?

DR: Sometimes I don’t. Sometimes I cry, sometimes I get upset. I just want to feel the song as I feel it every night. Some nights it’s just a song for me, some nights I just want to get through it, some nights I feel so much peace with it, and some nights I feel like he’s there. We played in Ogden, Utah, recently, and I could feel his presence and I got very upset.

One night in a theater I looked over at the girls while we were playing the song and I thought about each of them individually and how I know all these things about them. I know the struggles they’ve been through, the people who’ve hurt them, all the things they’ve felt, and struggled with, and beat, and have experienced in their lives.

At that moment, the song was theirs too. It was their experience as well. That night, walking across the stage as I’m playing that play-out at the end, I looked at each of them and told them I loved them as I walked by them. I’ve been doing that every night since, because I don’t feel like it’s just my song. I feel like it represents each of us. These are strong, amazing, talented women, and I’m so grateful to be in their presence every day.

DF: For me, this song is about the fact that we are in control now. We have the ability to stop the cycle that’s happened through our families and could very well carry on to our own children, if we didn’t take accountability, stand up, and say, “This goes no further.” So, for me, there’s not really a need for protection. It’s more letting it all out. Watching the crowd’s reaction every time we perform it is so therapeutic because you can tell there’s always somebody that really needed to hear what we had to say.

You both used the word “therapeutic.” What part does music play in your healing, in your mental health?

DR: It’s the only reason I’m still alive.

DF: To put it in perspective, imagine going through one of the worst things a person could go through, then to live your life and get to a place where … like, for Deanie, her dad passing away … to be able to sit down with two other women that are going, “I know almost exactly what you’re talking about. I have been through this as well. We are going to get it all out through the thing we all love the most.” And then to take that song you wrote that’s so honest and so vulnerable, play it for the people you’re in a band with, and have them all react with such compassion, saying, “Yeah, we have to do this.” And not only record the song, but there also was a conversation about how much we’re going to say about what the song is about, because some of us are really ready to talk about the things that happened to us, and we know that affects the entire band.

To have everybody embrace that, and then to get onstage and perform that with those people every night, to look at these women and tell them you love them — I can’t think of anything more therapeutic than to be able to say, “This happened to me,” and have so many people — the people that you wrote the song with, the people in the band with you, the people who made the record with you, and the people in the crowd listening and buying the record and all the comments we get on this song … I cannot think of anything more therapeutic for a person who has gone through something so traumatic. Other than actual therapy — I’m an advocate for actual therapy!

Rainy Miatke: Music plays such a huge role in my mental health and my healing journey. At times in my life when I’m not playing as much music, I can really feel the difference. Since I was a little kid, I’ve used music, writing melodies, writing songs, playing, and singing as a way to process the emotions I was going through. Now, being part of a band that is on a similar journey and path as I am, in my life and musically, and playing these powerful songs that the band has written about very personal subjects, it feels like we’re all in this together and here for each other, and it feels so healing.

When Deanie’s up there playing that part at the end of “Circle,” I sometimes find myself feeling really emotional and having to almost compartmentalize it, but also sometimes just letting it happen and processing some of the things that I’ve been through, too. I’ve found these people that I can do that with, and that I can process that stuff with through music, so it feels really special.


Read more on our Artist of the Month, Sister Sadie, here.

Photos courtesy of the artist.

A Force
To Be Reckoned With

Ghosts are so much more than spooky or goofy animations; they represent lived histories, past selves, and the ever-unfolding work of becoming. With her latest album, Every Ghost, country singer-songwriter Kelsey Waldon gives grace to all the women she’s been along the way, entertaining their urgent lessons as she considers who she is today.

“There’s good ghosts and there’s bad ghosts. Some of them have unfinished business and maybe they feed off fear, or maybe they feed off your happiness. I certainly have them, I have a lot of ghosts,” Waldon says. “It’s those types of ghosts, but also the ghost of every version of yourself that you’ve been and just being proud of where you came from, where you’re going, and honestly, where you’re at; meet yourself there.”

On the album’s first track, “Ghost of Myself,” she lays out how she got here:

I had to get tough so I could get wise
I’ve been a thousand women in my own time
Been a thousand women and I’ve loved them all
I had to get low so I could walk tall

From the album’s first lush, ebullient guitar run, Every Ghost is thick with layers of twang, accompanied by driving fiddle and classic country sounds. Waldon’s velvety voice, which has always been self-assured, sings clear and powerful. She’s standing on her own two feet; this is the album she’s been working toward over the last decade of hard work and meticulous touring.

Modern pop country is rife with men behaving badly or selfishly while extolling the unholy virtue of big truck worship. But long before their unceremonious relegation to the role of disingenuous machines, good for little else than scoring sex and drinking cheap beer, truck songs (usually about big rigs, not pickups) made poetry out of the long haul and produced some of country music’s most interesting characters. Look no further than Red Simpson and C.W. McCall’s catalogues, Jerry Reed’s “East Bound and Down,” Red Sovine’s “Phantom 309,” the Willis Brothers’ “Gimme 40 Acres to Turn this Rig Around,” or Kay Adams’ “Little Pink Mack.”

“Comanche,” track 2 on the new album (named after the 1988 Jeep Comanche Waldon bought recently) joins that lineage. “The rumble of the engine feels like my soul smooth when it’s runnin’/ A little rough when it’s not movin’,” Waldon sings.

Get behind the wheel on the open road, relax, blast some music, sort out your thoughts – there’s nothing like it. “We’ve all got our own amends to make/ We’ve all got our own hearts to break/ That’s the way it is,” Waldon continues, letting go of someone no longer in her life.

Spending time with an old, well-crafted object is a privilege and a joy in a commodified quick-fix world, one which Waldon manifests throughout the album as she tackles lessons and ghosts from a life lived deeply and broadly. The specters of Every Ghost include lost loves, of course; demons and vice; and also loved ones who are no longer earthside.

“Tiger Lilies” was written for her grandmother, whose beloved lilies she now tends in her own garden. Gardening and growth figure heavily in Waldon’s lyrics and worldview (notably “Season’s Ending,” off No Regular Dog and her cover of Jean Ritchie’s “Keep Your Garden Clean” on There’s Always a Song). “I think it’s sexy to know how to feed yourself and grow things,” she says. “What’s more country than that?” Later, she dwells more broadly on what we inherit generationally on “My Kin.”

The ghosts of vice have a particular way of lingering. “Happy new year, I’m scared to death/ My ol’ demons, they give me no rest,” Waldon sings on “Lost in My Idlin’.” Waldon has been, as she puts it “booze sober” for four years, but for her, the allure of letting loose and getting drunk lingers: “Wishin’ I was fucked up in some honky tonk/ Where they let me play my music way up loud.” Beyond an ode to temptation – and in some ways to simpler times – it’s an acknowledgement of those who’ve slipped and the hard work of holding the line. (Not to confuse resisting vice with moral superiority, addiction is a disease.) “I loved getting tore up from the floor up, that’s in my blood,” Waldon says; but staying sober is what’s best for her.

“I don’t wish for pain/ And I don’t dream of war/ When will it all end?? What are we killin’ for?” Waldon demands on the chorus of the wrenching, mournful “Nursery Rhyme.” “I honestly wrote that song after seeing pictures of children being bombed,” she says. Pertinent and direct, Waldon’s premise is simple: please, be kind and decent to each other. “How can you climb when you ain’t got a dime? / Workin’ your life away till you die/ Can’t pay what you owe ‘em, not in this lifetime/ Darlin’, it’s a nursery rhyme,” she continues in the song, lamenting the dissolution of the “American Dream” and economic parity for average people. “I’m a very, very proud American, but I know that sometimes the ‘American Dream’ does feel like a nursery rhyme,” Waldon says.

In 2019, that ability to zero in on the human condition landed Waldon the first new artist slot in 15 years on Oh Boy Records, founded by John Prine, who was likewise rivetingly dialed in to suffering and joy. Waldon’s bona fides include a bevy of appearances with Prine before his death in 2020. Before this she’s released six albums – Every Ghost her seventh – including 2020’s They’ll Never Keep Us Down, a cover album of protest songs including Nina Simone’s “Mississippi Goddam” and Prine’s “Sam Stone.” More recently, she released 2022’s No Regular Dog and 2024’s There’s Always a Song, covering some of her greatest musical influences.

Waldon’s been named a Kentucky Colonel, too. The highest title of honor awarded by the governor of the state, it’s often given to artists who guard Kentucky’s cultural traditions and further their future. She’s toured with Vincent Neil Emerson and 49 Winchester, the latter of whom she will join at the Ryman later in the year. She’s also looking forward to a long list of headlining shows, including at Under the Big Sky and FloydFest.

“That’s the only place that I do feel true freedom, honestly, is in the studio and then on stage doing whatever the fuck I want to, singing my heart out,” Waldon says. “I want the show to be a force to be reckoned with.”

Myriad wonderful songs have been written about ramblin’, but they’re all about men, Waldon says. She ends the album with one of the few exceptions, Hazel Dickens’ “Ramblin’ Woman.” At its release in 1976, the song represented a bold manifesto for female independence. As an album closer for Waldon, it acts as a bookend with “Ghost of Myself.” Waldon started the album telling listeners where she’s been and concludes with where she’s going.

“Hazel’s just saying ‘I got shit to do,’” Waldon says. “Women can ramble, too. I feel like we’re more than a girlfriend, a wife, a mother, even – and all these things that are so beautiful. We know we stand on our own. And we don’t have to explain it to anybody.”


Photo Credit: Alysse Gafkjen

Essential Country Finds

Editor’s Note: Each issue of Good Country, our co-founder Ed Helms will share a handful of good country artists, albums, and songs direct from his own earphones in Ed’s Picks.

Laci Kaye Booth

Couldn’t have said it better, ourselves. GEORGE F****** STRAIT! Good Country song of the season? We think so – and the internet does, too. You don’t wanna miss Laci on tour with Parker McCollum this summer and fall.


Crowe Boys

You’ll find New Orleans-based brothers Wes and Ocie Crowe at the intersection of country, indie, and rowdy millennial alt-folk. Their debut album’s title, Made To Wander, doesn’t just speak to their packed international tour schedule, it draws from their youthful days traveling with their family band, too.


The Kentucky Gentlemen

We’ve been fans of the Kentucky Gentlemen and we remain fans of the Kentucky Gentlemen! The Kentuckian twin brothers’ latest, Rhinestone Revolution, is out now, continuing to bring their energy, sparkle, and fun to mainstream country lovers the world over.


Carín León

From Sonora, Mexico to the GRAMMYs; to CMA Fest; to the cover of Billboard. Carín León exemplifies what we mean when we say “country & western” has always included Latin folk, Mexican music, and all of the roots music traditions of North America, no matter what language or any arbitrary borders. The deluxe version of his most recent smash hit album Palabra De To’s (Seca) is out now – it’s a must-listen.


Maoli

Country soul rooted in Hawaii and the Pacific islands – that’s what Maoli offers on his latest, Last Sip of Summer. You’ll be forgiven for assuming the steel guitar is the only country input offered from the vast Pacific Ocean. Maoli shows island country sounds – his being a bit like Buffett meets Chesney meets reggae – are best when grown directly in volcanic soil.


Ashley McBryde

This fan favorite Ashley McBryde track, “Rattlesnake Preacher,” has been a staple of her live shows for… well, forever. Now, a studio cut is available for the very first time. McBryde worked with producer John Osborne (of Brothers Osborne) to ensure this long-awaited rendition captured the magic of her live performances of the number. It does!


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Photo Credits: Laci Kaye Booth by Natalie Sakstrup; Crowe Boys by Nick Swift; the Kentucky Gentlemen courtesy of the artist; Carín León courtesy of Sacks & Co; Maoli by Reggie Villa; Ashley McBryde by Katie Kauss.

Son of the San Lorenzo

Jesse Daniel is carrying on a family tradition with his fifth studio album, Son of the San Lorenzo. As a kid growing up in Northern California, specifically in the San Lorenzo Valley, Daniel spent hours upon hours in his dad’s truck, listening to the songs that defined ‘70s rock and country radio. When the opportunity arose to create a new album inspired by those sounds, Daniel booked the Bomb Shelter studio in Nashville, recorded live with his band, and enlisted harmonica player (and Country Music Hall of Fame inductee) Charlie McCoy to add an unmistakable flourish to the new recordings.

Just as country fans have come to know their favorite singers as the Coal Miner’s Daughter, the Possum, or the Storyteller, Daniel’s hometown is enthusiastically embracing his alter ego: the Son of the San Lorenzo. Daniel dialed up Good Country to talk about how bluegrass music played a role in his musical development, the silver lining of his checkered past, and what he’s looking for in his fellow musicians when it’s time to hit the road.

For this album, you wanted to go back to the music you grew up on, which is ‘70s country and rock. How did you get introduced to that era of music?

Jesse Daniel: My dad was – and still is – a musician. Growing up, he was playing in bands and always just raised me with a guitar in my hand. Whenever we’d go on road trips, or we’d drive up to Oregon to go see family, we would be listening to Led Zeppelin or the Eagles, bands like that. There was a classic rhythm & blues influence on rock and roll, but a lot of that stuff had a very country influence, too, from Creedence Clearwater Revival to the Eagles. A lot of the bands were California bands, also.

I just heard that music growing up. That’s what was played by my dad’s band, and at birthday parties, events, and school gatherings. That was just good-time music, aside from what we were listening to as kids, when we were getting into metal and punk rock. But I guess that’s what all our dads were listening to, and the older people. So I went back to that, now that I’m in my 30s. That music has such a spot in my soul for that nostalgia, and it’s just so good.

Can you describe the experience of having Charlie McCoy on these sessions?

That was incredible. He showed up on his day to cut some harmonica and he was a very humble, unassuming dude. He told us the coolest stories about old Nashville, all the stuff he’s cut on, and all the people’s personalities back in the day that he used to know. I asked him all kinds of questions, soaking it all in. From the moment he blew on that harp and played some licks, Andrija [Tokic, the studio engineer] and I looked at each other like, “Yep! That’s the sound right there.” He just nailed it.

When I listened to “Child is Born,” the first track, I sensed you’re making a statement with this record. It’s a powerful way to open it. What was on your mind as that song was taking shape?

That song is about generational traumas or generational patterns within families and raising children. I pretty much wrote it from the perspective of trying to give some advice on how to raise a child, almost like a template. Throughout the verses, it talks about the pitfalls and what will happen if you focus on yourself and don’t raise your children right. That’s happened in my family and to so many other people. These fathers and mothers aren’t there for their kids, and when it ends up being their time to be taken care of, when they’re elderly, nobody’s there for them because they weren’t there in return. It becomes this vicious cycle that’s perpetuated. That’s where I was at with writing that one. It was an emotional one. It’s an emotional type of record in general, but I just wanted to start it off with that, for sure. A good, heavy starting place.

One of my favorites is “Son of the San Lorenzo.” I think you have had that title for a while.

Yeah, that one is a special one, too. I wrote that song in 2019 and I included it as the last song on my Rollin’ On record. I decided to re-cut it for this one and name the record after it, because since I wrote and released that song, it’s become a fan favorite all over the place, but especially where I grew up in the San Lorenzo Valley.

Whenever I would go back home for hometown shows, people would call me “the Son of the San Lorenzo” after that song. They would always sing that song. That became my nickname over the past five or so years. I thought, what better title for the record than that? With this record going back to my upbringing, to where I’m from, and identity and all that.

You’ve got references on this album to Highway 9, the Sierra pines, and the redwoods. You’re skilled at setting the scene in your songwriting. Why is it important to bring Northern California into these songs?

With my identity as a songwriter and an artist, it shaped a huge, huge amount of that. I always do things through the lens of being from Northern California. Going back to that sound, so much of the music I grew up on was from that exact area – bands like The Doobie Brothers, Larry Hosford, guys like that, who were making this country-rock and roll-blues stuff that really influenced me a lot.

Painting a picture of where you’re from, and of these things that are important to me and my music – I feel like that’s something that’s lost in music nowadays. People don’t do that as much, or if they do, it’s pretty well dominated by Appalachia or Texas. They have a lot of identity and pride in their musical heritage there and I just feel like it’s missing from California in general. And it shouldn’t be. It’s an amazing place, an amazing landscape, an amazing musical history. I see it as my cross to bear to try to carry on that legacy as best as I can.

Has bluegrass been an influence on you?

It definitely has. When I was in high school, I had a teacher for a short period of time who had a bunch of burned bluegrass mix CDs. She was the person that turned me on to bluegrass. I remember listening to that Tony Rice and Norman Blake song, “Eight More Miles to Louisville,” and I was like, “This is incredible!” The songwriting, the picking, the tempo. That made me fall in love with bluegrass. I’d been playing guitar for quite a while at that point, but that’s when I started learning the banjo rolls and trying to emulate some of those bluegrass things I’d heard and adding them into my chord progressions. Even though I don’t explicitly do bluegrass, I always have a bluegrass song on my records, or something that’s at least along those lines. For this record, it’s “Mountain Home” It’s got the banjo and fiddle and a little bit more bluegrass texturing. It’s a big part of my influence.

I was listening to “One’s Too Many (And a Thousand Ain’t Enough)” on Spotify and I couldn’t help but notice your mug shot from Santa Cruz County [as the Spotify Canvas] in the player. How did that come to be?

Yeah, that’s my mug shot from one of the times I went to jail. During that period of my life from 18 through my early twenties, I was a heroin addict, a methamphetamine addict. I was in a vicious cycle of addiction I had gotten into in high school. Once I was out of high school, it accelerated and I became a full-blown junkie, a full-blown drug addict. So that took me on frequent trips to jail for a week here, a week there. I never did any serious time, thank God. I should have, but I didn’t. I was constantly in and out of jail or rehab programs.

That mug shot is a reminder of that past and of that period of my life I wrote about in that song. That song is comprised of all the advice I had gotten from older people who had gotten their stuff together over the years, including some of my own family members who have been sober. They would tell me all these little bits of wisdom and try to help me, and I was just too deep in it to really see. But that song is basically the advice I’d give to somebody now, made up of all the advice I got back then when I was in that position.

Do people who know your story approach you for advice when you’re out on tour?

Quite a bit. There’s a cool, cathartic element to it for me, because I get to put my story and struggles into these songs and they help me. Then it becomes that for other people. I had a woman come up to me at a show, and she told me that my song “Gray” helped her mother get clean. She sent this song to her mother and it broke her down so much that her daughter was sending it to her, saying, “Hey, listen to the lyrics of this song. I care about you and I want you to get help.” And she did. She’s been clean for a couple years now and she says it’s because of that song.

I’ve had a lot of people reach out with similar stories, that they’ve gotten their stuff together after hearing my story or listening to my music. That’s the ultimate form of redemption for me, that I could take my destructive past and turn it into something constructive in helping people. That’s my whole mission. Aside from making the music I love, that’s my mission in my contribution to music.

That’s interesting to hear your mission statement, because you’re the head of your own organization now. I don’t know if you think of yourself that way, but you’re a businessman.

Yeah, more recently I’ve started to think of it that way. And it’s true, especially doing it independently like we have for so long. We’re just now starting to work with a bigger booking agency, a bigger management. We’re stepping things up. But my fiancée Jodi and I really built this together ourselves, brick by brick.

I’ve often heard you shouldn’t get in a relationship with someone until you know you travel well together. What do you remember about those early years with Jodi on the road?

In the early years, even before we started touring in a band together, I would play regionally and Jodi and I would go on road trips together, camping trips, whatever. We just wanted to keep going. That was always part of our relationship. We traveled really well together. We had similar interests. We’d just listen to music and talk and go pull off at roadside swimming holes up in the mountains. We loved that sense of adventure and going places. It was one of the main things that drew me to her when we first got together. She had just as big of a sense of adventure as I did.

So, in the music aspect of it, that’s really helped because we both have that wanderlust and we’re just down to be on the road and to go play new places. When one of us gets tired and burnt out, or maybe sick of being on the road, or something’s not going right, we have the other one to put it in perspective and help balance things out. You lean on that person, which not a lot of people have. A lot of times, your wife or your husband or whoever is at home and you’re out there, alone, missing them. So, I do have the luxury of being with my person out there.

What did Jodi think about the song “Jodi” when you played it for her?

She loves the song. Just like I say in that first line, “To write a love song for you was not an easy thing to do.” It really was a hard subject to tackle, because it’s so vulnerable and true. I had to sit with that one and try to make it as meaningful as possible, so it didn’t come off as a corny love song or too cryptic. I wanted it to be straightforward, but really meaningful.

What do you look for in musicians as you start to put together a band for a tour?

First off, they’ve got to be a great musician. That’s number one. They’ve got to understand the styles and the stylings that I like to go for with my music. I know it’s not for everybody. Sometimes the guitar style is a little bit outside of their bubble, so the playing has to be there.

On top of that, personality-wise, it helps to have people with good attitudes. That’s a huge one I’ve learned over the years. If somebody isn’t there for the right reason, or if they’re halfway in, halfway out, or maybe they’re partying a whole bunch on the road. I’m clean and sober on the road, I don’t do anything, but my guys will go out and have a beer or whatever. That’s totally fine. But if guys are going out and doing drugs or drinking and having it affect their performance or attitude… That is something that happened in the past, so I have a pretty strict policy with that. If you’re going to be in my band, you don’t have to be a teetotaler, but just try to keep it pretty mellow. It’s about the music. That’s what the focus is.

When you listen to Son of the San Lorenzo front to finish now, what goes through your mind?

I see a pretty complete body of work. Sometimes I’ll listen to some of my earlier records and I’ll look back and think, “Oh, I’d change this,” or “I’d do this a little different,” or “Maybe I would have put this song here…” I think that’s easy to do, to pick things apart, especially when you’ve grown as an artist and a songwriter. But when I listen to this record, I put so much time into the song arrangement and into each lyric and each part of the production. I wrote all the guitar licks. Well, ninety percent of the ones you hear on here are ones that I wrote, and then I showed them to the guitar player and he played them better than I was able to play them. [Laughs] All these little things, I put so much effort into this record that I listen back and I’m just really proud of it.


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Photos courtesy of Lightning Rod Records.

The Good Country Goodtime ft. James Austin Johnson

On Saturday, July 26, BGS and Good Country will return to Newport Folk Festival for another very special benefit aftershow, The Good Country Goodtime, featuring actor-comedian-musician James Austin Johnson (of SNL) and special musical guests. Each year, in the evenings after the festival winds down at Fort Adams State Park, Newport Folk hosts a variety of aftershows at venues around Newport, Rhode Island, each benefitting the Newport Festivals Foundation. Tickets went on sale today at 1pm EDT / 10am PDT – and sold out immediately. Join the wait list and get more info here.

Last year, BGS and our co-founder Ed Helms hosted A Bluegrass Situation at the Jane Pickens Theater on Saturday night of the festival. The sold-out superjam styled show featured performances by Helms and his Lonesome Trio, Langhorne Slim, Tony Trischka, Billy Bragg, Rhiannon Giddens, Madison Cunningham, Andrew Bird, and many more.

This year, it’s a brand new show, an exciting reimagination of our recent creation, The Good Country Goodtime, a variety show in the style of iconic old-timey radio shows, jamborees, and barn dances that’s a modern celebration of country, comedy, and everything beyond, below, and in between.

 

Hosted by Saturday Night Live cast member – and burgeoning Music Row songwriter – James Austin Johnson and written by comedy, radio, and podcast writer Greg Hess, the Good Country Goodtime will build on the show’s format as debuted by BGS and Good Country at Dynasty Typewriter in Los Angeles in September 2024. (Watch a humorous house band performance of “Who’s Gonna Feed Them Hogs” from the Dynasty Typewriter edition of the show below.)

The Newport Folk Fest rendition of our variety show will feature a who’s who of musical and comedy guests from the festival lineup and beyond, with many a surprise and once-in-a-lifetime moment in store. Hilarious sketches, iconic collaborations, a stellar house band, classic songs from the country canon, and plenty of homages to Newport Folk Festival and its country legacy will be sure to charm the Jane Pickens Theater audience.

We hope you are one of the lucky ticket holders joining us later this month for the Good Country Goodtime on Saturday, July 26, in Newport, Rhode Island. Join the waitlist and get more information on Newport Folk Festival here.


 

Sho-Bud Steel Guitars Relaunches, A Family Business Once Again

Tone: it’s the Holy Grail for musicians, and it’s the cornerstone of Sho-Bud, the iconic pedal steel guitar company founded in 1955 by Harold “Shot” Jackson and Buddy Emmons. When Emmons moved on, Jackson continued with sons Harry and David, handcrafting instruments integral to the sound of country music.

In the early 1980s, Sho-Bud was acquired by Fred Gretsch. In 2005, after twenty years away from the business, Harry and David Jackson, joined by David’s daughter, Dawn Jackson, resumed building instruments. As Jackson Steel Guitar Company, they introduced new pedal steel, lap steel, resonator, and slide guitars.

In December 2024, the third generation of Jacksons, siblings and co-CEOs Dawn and Will Jackson, reacquired the company name and family legacy. “We knew that the name carried a lot of weight,” says Dawn Jackson. “It’s our heritage, and we wanted to bring it back while Dad and Harry were still building.”

“I want to acknowledge Fred Gretsch, his wife Dinah, his family, and his team,” says Will Jackson. “A lot of people approached him to acquire the Sho-Bud name over the years, and he didn’t do it. He saved it for us. We very much appreciate what he did in terms of preserving the name, keeping it intact, and not selling it to someone else. We’ll be eternally grateful to him for that.”

Sho-Bud relaunched this year with new and classic gear, plus several projects across platforms and generations. The reach stretches from traditionalists devoted to the classic instruments they saw on the Opry stage, to young musicians incorporating steel in everything from country to metal.

Central to all of this, of course, are the instruments, which include the high-level, traditional, maple cabinet Pro V; bender-equipped, stand-up SlideKing LS lap steel; and best-selling Maverick II.

“It’s not the Maverick of old,” says Will Jackson of the Maverick II. “The original Maverick was designed to be a low-cost, entry-level, beginner guitar. With the Maverick II, our objective was to build one of the sweetest-sounding guitars. We developed a front and rear extruded aluminum panel that has a hard rock maple soundboard that sits between them. On top of that, the one-piece aluminum neck now binds the key head and tail plate together.

“When you sandwich all that together, this particular guitar, as Dawn describes it, cuts through all the other noise. It’s distinctive, it’s clear, it rings and resonates. It has that Nashville sound because we still utilize the exact same pickup design that Shot developed back in the ’50s. When you marry that to this modern design cabinet, it is incredible. The Maverick II definitely stands out in terms of its tonal qualities. It’s pretty much unmatched. It’s quite an advancement in terms of pedal steel guitar technology.”

Sho-Bud plans a reissue of the signature Lloyd Green model, the LDG, which the Jacksons describe as “a continuation of the original classic design,” and a limited-edition LDG, cut with modern components and updated mechanisms, each one signed by Lloyd Green, David Jackson, and Harry Jackson. Other reissues will follow, including Jimmy Day’s Blue Darlin’.

Sho-Bud co-CEOs and siblings Will Jackson and Dawn Jackson.

 

“Relaunch,” in Sho-Bud vernacular, is all about name recognition, product reputation, and upholding a decades-old legacy. “We built steels for the past twenty-five years under the name Jackson Steel Guitars,” says Dawn Jackson. “So the relaunch, for us, circles around the Sho-Bud name.

“What’s happened in the months since we secured the name again, the outpouring of support from the guitar industry in general has been overwhelming,” she says. “That lends itself to the weight this brand carried around the world, and how throughout the years of its ‘dormancy,’ it maintained a true following, and not only from older generations. Younger people love the brand too. When we mention Sho-Bud, every door is open. So that’s really the relaunch. We maintained building these amazing instruments during our Jackson Steel era, but the [Sho-Bud] brand itself has the leverage and momentum behind it.”

“A lot of people have asked, ‘Is this just a rebranding of Jackson Steel Guitars?’ Definitely not,” says Will Jackson. “We’ve been sitting on a few patents that we’ve obtained over the last couple of years. They’ve got about fifteen years or so left on them while we fine-tune these components.”

Those components include a tunable vibrato, on-the-fly D Drop, The EDGE® multi-bending system, and Core-Over™ strings, all of which they’ve introduced to Sho-Bud artists with positive response.

“When a traditional, fretted-instrument guitarist is, say, holding a chord, when they use an old-school vibrato — let’s say a Bigsby, for example — when they hit that thing, all those strings are falling out of tune,” says Will Jackson. “Our tunable vibrato doesn’t destroy the chord. When they’re holding a chord and they go down, all those strings fall in tune now.

“We’ve got a Drop D tuner that allows an artist, again on a fretted instrument, to simply roll their E down to a D while they’re playing. They don’t have to take their fretting hand off and adjust anything on the key head. They don’t have to stop and tinker around with their picking hand to adjust anything. They’re able to use the palm, the heel, of their hand, roll it right down to a D, and roll it right back up to an E. So it’s very novel, very easy to use.

“With our Core-Over strings, we take the winding off up to where it passes the bridge and on the pickup side of the nut, so it’s just the core of the string going across those two touch points. It creates incredible amounts of sustain. The sound profile of the string is much rounder, bigger, fuller. It’s amazing.”

(L to R) Kyle Ince, Bob Sheehan, Slash, Ted Stern, Andrea Whitt, Skunk Baxter, Dawn Jackson, Pavel, Hexx Henderson, Mark Tucker, Rocco DeLuca, and Will Jackson pose for a group photo at the Sho-Bud Showcase Live at the Desert 5 Spot in Los Angeles.

 

On April 24, in Hollywood, the company celebrated the return of Sho-Bud Showcase Live, national concerts spotlighting steel-centric artists in all genres. The series kickoff, Sho-Bud’s first live event in over forty years, included, among its many participants, Jeff “Skunk” Baxter, Robert Randolph,
Andrea Whitt, Rocco DeLuca,
Hexx Henderson, Hatfield Rain, Shooter Jennings, and Slash.

Sho-Bud Music is a record label and publishing company originally established by Dawn Jackson to release an album by her band, the aforementioned Hatfield Rain. “Around that time, I started working with Dad and Harry on Jackson Steel and never did anything with the [album] mixes,” she says. “It’s getting ready to come out after all this time, so I’m super-excited.” Along with that recording, Sho-Bud Music is promoting other Sho-Bud artists.

Coming soon is Shot Jackson’s Sho-Bud Showcase radio program, which will now become a podcast featuring music, interviews, and over 150 digitized reels from the original 1970s and early 1980s WSM broadcasts. “We have all the reels and we’re going to start releasing them,” says Dawn Jackson. “The podcast will also include interviews with today’s Sho-Bud artists and, of course, our dad and Harry.”

Harold “Shot” Jackson built Sho-Bud on a foundation of superior instruments, customer service, customer satisfaction, and customer loyalty. Those values remain at the core of Dawn and Will Jackson’s goals, whether putting instruments in the hands of internationally renowned musicians or newcomers learning their way around pedal steel.

Sho-Bud CEO Dawn Jackson poses with Slash and a Sho-Bud Steel Guitar.

 

“These instruments are not like traditional fretted instruments,” says Will Jackson. “Fretted instruments don’t have moving parts per se. But these do. Because they have those linkages and mechanical pulling mechanisms, as they’re used, they wear. Anytime you make a change to these instruments, you have to be careful, because in the interest of trying to maximize performance or life on one end, you can impact tone on the other end, and that is something we can’t sacrifice.

“Sho-Bud has always been known for that Nashville sound, the tone that we got. The story I recall as a kid was Shot sitting there on a pickup-winding machine, which was made out of an old sewing machine motor. He had apple bushels next to his workbench. He would wind a pickup, plug it in, and if it gave him the tone he was after, performed the way he wanted it to, it went in the keeper bushel. If it didn’t, it went into the discard bushel.

“That is how our family has built these things. There are no Rhodes Scholars over here or MIT graduates in engineering. These guys developed these instruments through pure trial and error and using their ears to develop that tone. Again, we can’t sacrifice mechanical advantages over tone. Some guitar companies do, but we cannot do that. For us, it is about tone, tone, tone. We live and die by that.”

“We’ve always maintained the tradition and look of our guitars — the beautiful cabinets, our certain inlays, the finishes,” says Dawn Jackson, “but aesthetics are second. Tone has always been number one for us.”

“These instruments require maintenance,” says Will Jackson. “If there is a nut, a screw, a bolt, it will get turned by someone. When these things leave the shop, they’re set perfectly. People will start adjusting things, and that’s what they’re for. You need to fine-tune things ergonomically to make it fit. But, because these things can be very sensitive, sometimes they overdo it, or they have trouble chasing the tuning back to where they wanted it.

“We are here to support them in terms of Zoom calls, where they can show us exactly what they’re doing, what the instrument is doing, or what it’s not doing that they would like it to do. We can help walk them through that, using a blend of modern technology to help them fine-tune some of these traditional instruments. We’re always looking for ways to make it easier for them to keep these guitars maintained.”

As a family-owned and operated company, versus a multi-department corporation, the Jacksons are front and center when phones ring, texts chime, and emails arrive – no call centers, AI assistants, or being transferred through a half-dozen departments and hold times. They field calls, walk customers through setups, stay active via social media, keep up with forums, provide instructional videos, and cherish human-to-human relationships.

Slash plays a Sho-Bud Steel Guitar.

 

“Will and I have been a team since we were kids playing football in the backyard,” says Dawn Jackson. “We really believe in team efforts, and that’s why we’re so big on using the words ‘Team Sho-Bud.’ The dynamics between us, our father, and our uncle – we’re all creators and passionate about the things we do.

“We have the same objective in mind, which is to maintain our family heritage,” she says. “I am so proud that Sho-Bud is still a family business, and that people love and respect that. We work together, play off of each other, and it just works and works well.”

“I’m proud of my family – our dad, our uncle – for the sacrifices they made over the years to build these instruments, and to deliver the tone and the sounds that everyone enjoys,” says Will Jackson. “I’m very proud of the work they put into this, and of Dawn for rolling up her sleeves and helping them. I’m proud of the way Sho-Bud has evolved. It’s fun to be a part of the rebirth of Sho-Bud. These instruments, these new components, are going to be total game changers. I’m very proud to represent these products and wear the old brand. It’s exciting times.”


All Photos: Ashley Marie Myers, courtesy of Sho-Bud. Lead and alternate images: Slash plays a Sho-Bud pedal steel guitar.

Way Too Many Trees

Ian Munsick carries Wyoming with him wherever he goes. Though he’s now based in Nashville, Munsick consistently documents his affection for the Cowboy State through his music. For example, he named his new album Eagle Feather, a title that alludes to a gift he received at his honorary Crow Native American tribal adoption last year.

The closing track on that 20-song collection, “The Gate,” is bookended by the voices of his father and his son, underscoring the life lessons within the poignant lyrics. He even enlisted Buck Brannaman, an inspiration for Nicholas Evans’ 1995 novel, The Horse Whisperer, to appear in the music video for “Horses, Not Hearts.”

On a rare break from touring, Munsick chatted with Good Country about moving to Nashville as an 18-year-old, his admiration for bluegrass musicians, and his most reliable piece of advice.

Let’s start by talking about the video for “Horses, Not Hearts.” Why did you like the treatment for that video?

Ian Munsick: When it comes to everything for the eyes, my wife has a huge part in that. She’s also my manager and she’s very good at branding. The majority of my imagery comes from her, and she had that idea of going back home to Wyoming. There’s an old cowboy in Wyoming that’s one of the best horsemen in the world named Buck Brannaman. We always try to incorporate and feature real people in the West that are very good at what they do. This is a common theme for us, and he was one that we hadn’t included yet. We’re from Sheridan, and his wife is best friends with my mom, and we go way, way back. Before I was even born, they knew me, so it was cool getting to work with him and his daughter and his wife.

We’re really trying to portray an accurate picture of the real West. That’s always been my goal as an artist, and there’s no better way of doing that than to have world class horsemen and cowboys.

I think you’re a visual songwriter, too. “Too Many Trees” has a lot of visuals in it, and it’s a love song, but there’s also that issue of where to settle down. Is that something you and your wife talk about – thirty years in the future, where you want to be?

Oh yeah, all the time. I lucked out in that my wife loves Wyoming and I knew that that was going to have to be a precursor, because that’s where I belong. That’s where I feel most at home. She’s from North Carolina and there’s a lot of trees and hills there. I started to think to myself, “What if she didn’t like Wyoming?” That’s how that song came about. Being from Wyoming, there’s no trees there. They’re only on the mountains and by the rivers and that’s it. So, moving to Nashville when I was 18, it was a pretty dramatic geographical change.

I always had that idea and that title and then I picked up my three-year-old nephew from the airport. He flew in a couple years ago with his parents and we were riding back home in the truck back to our house in Nashville. I don’t think that he had ever left Wyoming, so it was his first time out. The first thing that he told me in the truck on the way home was, “Man, there’s so many trees out here.” I was like, “I’ve got to write that song!” That’s what sparked it.

When you thought, “All right, I’m moving to Nashville,” what was your goal?

I didn’t really have a big goal. My main goal was to play music for a living. I knew that if I was making music, then I was gonna be happy. It didn’t matter if I was writing songs or if I was playing in a band, or if I was producing songs, or if I was being an artist. I just knew that I wanted to be playing music all the time. Then slowly after I got here, I started to realize everybody that’s an artist right now is from the same area. They’re from Georgia or Tennessee or Texas and that’s it. So it’s like, maybe I have a unique outlook on what country is. That’s what inspired my whole artistry.


Photo Credit: Raul Esparza

Did you get a lot of radio stations where you grew up?

No, man! As you can imagine. There were three stations, two of them were country and one was rock. That’s it.

Wow. Did you listen to rock and roll coming up as a kid? Did you like it?

Yeah, my dad – he’s just a very good musical mind. He plays a bunch of instruments, writes his own music, so he turned me and my two older brothers on to all kinds of music when we were young. So honestly, I didn’t really listen to country radio very much, just because my dad hated it. He’s like, “Oh, this isn’t real country music.” That’s always what he would say. So we didn’t really listen to much radio country. It was like old tapes of Merle Haggard and George Jones – and the Beach Boys, Fleetwood Mac, Chris Ledoux, all kinds of music.

Did you get up on stage a lot as a kid and play with your dad?

Yeah, my dad taught my two brothers and me how to play music at a young age. By the time I was about 10 years old, we were on stage all together as a family band. That’s how I started. We’d play rodeos and after-parties, dances, just whoever would have us. That’s how I came up playing music, learning through them.

From the videos I’ve seen, and looking at your videos on social media, it seems to me like you don’t have stage fright. Did you lose that early as a kid?

Yeah, my dad knows how to engage an audience very well, so I got to learn that at a really young age. And my two older brothers already knew, from him, how to engage a crowd. So I had three people I looked up to that were already really good at that and I definitely learned from them.

I found one of your songs on Spotify called “Me Against the Mountain” and I was surprised to hear banjo on there. What was on your mind as that song was taking shape?

Like most writers, I have my voice memos on my iPhone, just hundreds of them on there. During COVID, I was writing with two people that I had never written with that would quickly become two of my favorite people to write with, Jeremy Spillman and Randy Montana. I had this little thing that was just like [imitates twangy licks] and it felt very backwoods mountain bluegrass. So I just picked up my banjo and started to play that. I did have the word “mountain,” and Randy was like, “Man, that’s just a really cool vibe. I wonder if it’s ‘me against the mountain?’” The mountain could be an actual mountain, or it could be a metaphor for an obstacle that’s between you and the one you love. So that’s how it came to be.

I recorded the whole thing in my studio and I mixed it right there. My wife and I were about to get married and I played it for her in the car. She’s like, “This needs to be our wedding song.” I was like, “All right, sweet.” So we made that music video around our wedding, which is something I feel like only happens when your wife is your manager. [Laughs]

How did you acquire a banjo?

For that one, that might have been a ganjo. Right after I made that track, I was like, “Man, you have no idea how long it took me to get that thing to sound good.” Like all ganjos do! But after that, for my birthday, my wife went to Carter Vintage and bought me a Deering banjo. It’s a beautiful banjo! It’s honestly one of the nicest instruments that I own. I just keep that bad boy in my studio. I can play “Cripple Creek” and that’s about it. But when you’re in the studio, you have the advantage of tuning it weird and making weird noises with it and fooling around until it’s good. What a cool instrument that just immediately puts you in a vibe. The acoustic guitar obviously can do a lot of things, but when you hear a banjo, it’s like you’re there. It just takes you to that place. It’s a very special instrument.

Do you remember when you got introduced to bluegrass or learned about it?

Yeah, my dad’s primary instrument is fiddle. I remember him playing all those old fiddle tunes when I was growing up. He gave me my granddad’s mandolin at a young age and he would teach me how to play those old fiddle tunes on the mandolin. So that’s my first real intro to old traditional bluegrass music.

But then, through people like Yonder Mountain String Band, Steep Canyon Rangers, Doc Watson, and Ricky Skaggs & Kentucky Thunder, I really started to navigate my own [path through] bluegrass music. I fell in love with harmonies, number one. Those were the main things that drew me in. I’ve always been a huge harmony guy. I love the Beach Boys. I love The Beatles. And bluegrass was that other thing that really played on those three-part harmonies. Being the youngest of the three brothers, that was our thing – to sing harmonies. That’s probably what drew me in, right out of the gate as a kid. And the older I get, the more I appreciate the playing. Those are some of the best musicians in the world playing bluegrass music.

On “Cheyenne,” you’re putting yourself out there with just a guitar and not much else. What stands out about that song for you?

Lyrically I really love that one. You probably know a little bit about that town, but Frontier Days obviously is when everyone comes to Cheyenne. People think that’s the big hot spot of Wyoming, through that rodeo, but really that’s the only two weeks that anything ever happens there. Other than that, it’s a total ghost town. Not a lot of action. Even though it is the state capital, nothing goes on there. I thought it was a cool idea, lyrically. I had that guitar riff going into the write and I’ve always been a huge believer in four-chord or five-chord change, back and forth, like Fleetwood Mac’s “Dreams.” How it never goes to the one, how it never resolves. That’s the vibe for that one.

I produced that with Jeremy Spillman, and him being older and much wiser than me, he’s like, “Man, this song doesn’t need much. It doesn’t need a kick drum. Just throw a little snare in there and maybe a steel guitar, and that’s it.” That’s what I’ve been liking, too. The older I get, the more I don’t like a bunch of noise, which is probably the human experience! [Laughs] I feel like overdoing it is pretty easy for producing music, and I think it can speak more if there’s less in it, and it allows the audience to have a little bit of room to imagine things.

When I was in college, I loved the song “I Can Still Make Cheyenne.” Do you like that one?

Man, I’ll tell you what. Dude, I heard that maybe not for the first time in high school, but that’s the first time I remember hearing it. It was my freshman year. Holy shit, dude, it rocked my world. I listened to it on repeat on iTunes for two weeks straight. It was like, “I can’t get enough of this.” To this day, that’s probably my favorite country song of all time. So good.

There’s a lot of life lessons in your song, “The Gate.” You probably learned some of those lessons the hard way. Especially in the music business, no doubt. When people approach you for advice, how do you handle that?

I’m always really inspired to try and help people as much as I can through my experiences. First thing I tell them is that I’m a ranch dude from Wyoming. So if I can do this, you can do whatever you want. There’s no world that’s more opposite than ranching in Wyoming to the entertainment industry. That’s as opposite as it gets. So if I can do it, then they can do it.

Man, I just try and use my mistakes, so that hopefully they don’t have to make those mistakes. I’m still young, I still have plenty more mistakes to be made. But what the main thing is, growing up in Wyoming, you’ve got to work your ass off and you want to be around people that are good people. It’s great if they can help you, or if you can profit with them, but the number one thing is just making sure you’re with good people that have your back.


Photo Credit: Cam Mackey

You Gotta Hear This: New Music From Darren Nicholson, Jackson Scribner, and More

It’s Friday, so we’ve got a passel of new songs and videos just for you. You Gotta Hear This!

Kicking us off, Nashville-based Americana duo Haunted Like Human bring their new single, “Married in Savannah,” about change, growth, and vowing to break generational cycles. It’s a thoughtful track with a beat and vibe that lean forward expectantly – or, perhaps, still hopefully. Meanwhile, Lauren Lovelle shares a song that she released earlier this week, “Anxiously Attached,” a two-steppin’ honky-tonk number about repeated disappointments in love and relationships that’s perfectly lonesome and self-deprecating.

Aptly timed for our current heat wave, Hawaii-born country artist Maoli drops his new album Last Sip of Summer today, and you can hear “Better Off on a Beach” below. While you sweat through these high temps, hit play and lean into his mainstream island-drenched country sounds while you imagine the sand between your toes. Plus, keeping the summer mood going, roots rockers Little Feat have released a brand new video for “4 Days of Heaven 3 Days of Work,” the groovin’ opening track from their new album, Strike Up The Band, which was released last month.  

Mandolinist Danny Roberts shares a new instrumental tune below, too. “Leitchfield” is a pulsing, acrobatic original mandolin composition that pays homage to Leitchfield, Kentucky, a place Roberts calls “the fiddling capital of Kentucky.” (He should know, too, as he holds a Key to the City!) His labelmate and fellow mandolinist Darren Nicholson also has a new single today, “I’ve Got No Tears Left to Cry.” It’s a lonesome fast waltz that follows Marty Stuart’s sage advice to always trust a simple song.

To wrap us up, check out singer-songwriter Jackson Scribner’s “Depression Kids,” the title track for his just-announced album that was unveiled earlier this week. “…Although [depression is] looked at in a negative manner most of the time,” Jackson says, “it’s something that can bring us all together.” Packaged in vibey steel guitar and equal dashes of Americana and indie folk, the song ends up where our collection this week started, finding traces of hope in perhaps unlikely sentiments.

Of course we think this is a lovely round-up of new music, but you ought to decide for yourself. After all, You Gotta Hear This!

Haunted Like Human, “Married in Savannah”

Artist: Haunted Like Human
Hometown: Nashville, Tennessee; originally Fayetteville, Georgia (Dale Chapman) and Milton-Freewater, Oregon (Cody Clark)
Song: “Married In Savannah”
Album: American Mythology
Release Date: June 27, 2025 (single); October 17, 2025 (album)

In Their Words: “‘Married in Savannah’ is a song about growing up and realizing that you’ve grown into someone very different than the people that you thought that you knew. The song unfolds as the narrator looks at their relationship with an old and dear friend that they’ve drifted apart from. She was fiery and passionate and felt stifled by the expectations of the posh Southern family that she came from. The two spent their younger years vowing to break cycles and craft lives of their own, but the narrator now finds that their friend has seemingly become all of the things that she used to hate. Our narrator has to sit with the questions that they won’t ever get answers to, like whether the friend’s spirit was broken or if it was all just youthful naiveté that she set aside as she matured. They mourn the loss of the friend that they knew and the future that she could have had.” – Haunted Like Human

Track Credits:
Byron House – Bass
Paul Eckberg – Percussion
Charlie Lowell – Keys
Eleonore Denig – Violin
Cody Clark – Guitar, vocals
Dale Chapman – Vocals
Engineered and mixed by Mitch Dane.
Mastered by Veronica Conners.


Little Feat, “4 Days of Heaven 3 Days of Work”

Artist: Little Feat
Hometown: Bill Payne – Emigrant, Montana;  Kenny Grandy – Los Angeles, California; Sam Clayton – Fallbrook, California; Fred Tackett – Los Angeles, California; Scott Sharrard – New York, New York; Tony Leone – New York, New York
Song: “4 Days of Heaven 3 Days of Work”
Album: Strike Up The Band
Release Date: May 9, 2025
Label: Hot Tomato

In Their Words: “‘4 Days of Heaven 3 Days of Work’ is the opening track on our new album. The ‘Gonzo Funk’ in the song’s lyrics and groove exemplify our lineup’s take on the classic Feat boogie. It is also the only tune on the album that was co-written by Bill, Tony, and I. All the riffs and lyrical imagery could only have come out of the three of us throwing ideas around together. Once the band got a hold of it, it went to a whole other level. This one was a true collaboration in service of the song.” – Scott Sharrard


Lauren Lovelle, “Anxiously Attached”

Artist: Lauren Lovelle
Hometown: Newton, Kansas
Song: “Anxiously Attached”
Album: Other Dreams EP
Release Date: June 25, 2025 (single); September 9, 2025 (EP)

In Their Words: “[‘Anxiously Attached’ is] about begging for the bare minimum, putting your partner on a pedestal, and in turn, repeatedly disappointing yourself. I find myself laughing during that ‘dammit I gotta work the dinner shift’ line, because I often am playing a gig right after working a dinner shift.” – Lauren Lovelle


Maoli, “Better Off on a Beach”

Artist: Maoli
Hometown: Maui, Hawaii
Song: “Better Off on a Beach”
Album: Last Sip of Summer
Release Date: June 27, 2025

In Their Words: “‘Better off on a Beach’ is such a vibe. There’s something magical about the beach – it’s like time slows down, and everything just clicks into place. Honestly, I don’t know a single person who isn’t better off with their toes in the sand. Being from Hawai‘i, I’ve always felt a deep connection to the ocean. The sound of waves rolling in, the warm sand beneath your feet – it takes you to a different place mentally. This song brings all of that home for me. It’s about letting go of your worries, surrounding yourself with good friends, and soaking up the good times. It’s about leaving your troubles behind… back where the pavement ends.” – Maoli


Darren Nicholson, “I’ve Got No Tears Left to Cry”

Artist: Darren Nicholson
Hometown: Canton, North Carolina
Song: “I’ve Got No Tears Left To Cry”
Release Date: June 27, 2025
Label: Mountain Home Music Company

In Their Words: “I heard Marty Stuart say once that you should always trust a simple song. That stuck with me. So, ‘I’ve Got No Tears Left To Cry’ is just that. It’s a blunt goodbye letter from a jaded lover who is completely over being burned one too many times. It’s a ‘moving on’ song. Musically, it’s a traditional sounding piece that is reminiscent of classic bluegrass and honky-tonk music. It’s written to sing with big harmonies and Kevin and Avery nailed those. I am very proud of this cut and think bluegrass fans will enjoy it!” – Darren Nicholson

Track Credits:
Darren Nicholson – Mandolin, lead vocal
Mark Fain – Upright bass
David Johnson – Acoustic guitar
Deanie Richardson – Fiddle
Avery Welter – Harmony vocal
Kevin Sluder – Harmony vocal


Danny Roberts, “Leitchfield”

Artist: Danny Roberts
Hometown: Nashville, Tennessee
Song: “Leitchfield”
Release Date: June 27, 2025
Label: Mountain Home Music Company

In Their Words: “When I wrote this tune, I didn’t have a title in mind and needed to come up with something to call it. While listening to the song and pondering on a name, I got thinking about the fact that my lifelong friend, Jimmy Mattingly, played fiddle on it. That led me down the path of recalling us growing up on adjacent farms, going to school and playing music together which gave me the idea that it would be cool to have a song named after our hometown of Leitchfield, Kentucky. Leitchfield/Grayson County is the fiddling capital of Kentucky and has produced many fiddlers and other musicians over the years and I’m very proud to call it home. I was honored to receive the Key to the City from Mayor Harold Miller at last year’s Twin Lakes National Fiddler Championship and I’m dedicating ‘Leitchfield’ to all the wonderful folks there.

“It was so much fun getting to record this with some of the greatest musicians I’ve ever picked with – Jimmy Mattingly, Tony Wray, and Andrea Roberts, and I appreciate them helping me bring this tune to life. I hope everyone enjoys it!” – Danny Roberts

Track Credits:
Danny Roberts – Mandolin
Andrea Roberts – Bass
Tony Wray – Acoustic guitar, banjo
Jimmy Mattingly – Fiddle


Jackson Scribner, “Depression Kids”

Artist: Jackson Scribner
Hometown: Melissa, Texas
Song: Depression Kids
Album: Depression Kids
Release Date: June 25, 2025 (single); September 19, 2025 (album)
Label: State Fair Records

In Their Words: “I wrote this song on a bunch of sticky notes on my bedroom floor, thinking about the different ways I feel depression. It occurred to me that no matter what sort of depression people are dealing with, everyone deals with it. Everyone’s in the same giant boat. In a way, although it’s looked at in a negative manner most of the time, it’s something that can bring us all together.” – Jackson Scribner


Photo Credit: Darren Nicholson by Jeff Smith; Jackson Scribner by Brendan Blaney.

Singing Through Dark Times:
Willi Carlisle Finds Hope in Roaming and Reckoning

We are in a moment of extreme distress. Especially, but not limited to, the formal politics of America’s dying empire. Living in its wake, it’s easy to collapse into hopelessness. Hopelessness seems reasonable, considering the criminalization of trans voices, or ICE raids, or the tariffs that wipe out hard earned income, or climate change, or any of the other myriad disasters we are in the middle of. There has to be some way forward – a full understanding of how bad the situation currently is, but also that there might be a small amount of hope; that it has been worse than this, but it has also been better.

Willi Carlisle released an album of traditional songs, called The Magnolia Sessions, in December 2024 and will release Winged Victory June 27 via Signature Sounds. Winged Victory includes original songs and covers of Utah Phillips, Richard Thompson, and Patrick Haggerty, among others. These songs are about the delicate negotiation between historical understandings, current realities, and the possibility of a progressive future; about carving out small moments of pleasure against melancholy; of building a small paradise against these impending crises.

I reached Willi Carlisle by phone on Good Friday, the saddest day of the Christian calendar. On the first Good Friday, no one thought Christ would return. I have not been a believer for a while, but I remember sermons in college which warned against racing through Friday to get to the hope of Sunday. So when I call this album a hopeful one, it is hopeful with a full acknowledgement that it might not get better. The work needs to be done with the assumption that there is no intervention, divine or otherwise.

When asking Carlisle about optimism, or about hope, he makes his choices sound purposeful, mentioning that he had been wanting to make this kind of album for more than a decade and that these two albums are “more just like musical moments that continue to say the things I want to say, as opposed to saying the things that I want to get off my chest.” This is not a manifesting energy, or an optimism despite all odds, but one which is well earned after decades of performing.

Those decades of performance tile with decades of listening, each working together mutually. Winged Victory has several moments which cross cosmic time – decades or centuries – looking backwards or seeing what is possible in the futures of our children’s children’s generations. The collection begins, for example, with the Utah Phillips standard, “We Have Fed You All for 1000 Years.” Its chorus states baldly:

Go reckon our dead by the forges red
And the factories where we spin.
If blood be the price of your cursed wealth,
Good God! We have paid it in!

This album is one of reckoning, of refusing the standard moments. In the original song, “The Cottonwood Tree,” a slow waltz, Carlisle talks about a “place where nobody lives, and everyone is free.” He is singing in first person while he plays a concertina, mentioning how he is part of nature now and how he will be part of nature in his own rotting. He is happy to die trusting people, but even after dies, even when he is buried under “the cottonwood trees,” he will be heard.

He concludes the song, believing that he will meet his friends six feet under the cottonwood tree. In a subtle moment, his friends are “the tall grasses rustling between his ears,” or the forget-me-nots in a parking lot, and maybe even other humans. Here time collapses, between the immediacy of the moment and the length it takes a body to absorb fully into those cottonwood trees.

Carlisle’s album of traditional songs, The Magnolia Sessions, has moments of this cosmic time as well – a much eerier version of “Leatherwing Bat” than the one made famous on Peter, Paul and Mary’s children’s album, as well as the last song, a version of “Jubilee,” a moment which reminds us again that the joy will come, after working and waiting.

Conversation between original tracks and new work is central to Carlisle’s practice. His reckoning, which occurs over and over again, is also about the complex matrix of listening and performing other people’s songs. When asked about the covers, he talks about working together – that he had a “strong relationship to the material…”

“I see my whole project in folk music is hearing history with all of its interpretations, its historicity, back to the lives of actual human beings. It’s time to take off the cowboy hat and put on the work gloves.”

The strength of the relationships between material, is partly due to how the original songs on this album work in conjunction with the old songs. For example, how the waltz of “The Cottonwood Tree” leads into the harder, faster waltz of the Patrick Haggerty-penned “Cryin’ These Cocksucking Tears.” That Carlisle includes a Patrick Haggerty song at all is remarkable, even more so that he makes it full of joy and he considers it as part of the tradition of folk and country music. It’s a cult song in queer folk circles – the mainstreaming of this work is a foregrounding of queer desire, another tradition and another culture. Carlisle sings it with horns and an accordion which sounds like a circus calliope (between this and Lucy Dacus’ “Calliope Prelude,” the instrument is having a moment).

Collapsing of time can again be seen in his version of Richard Thompson’s “Beeswing.” Also running a little quicker than the original, it’s a song about lovers who cannot be kept and immediacy about “the price you pay for the chains you refuse.” But the next song, “Big Butt Billy” – a comic riff on possibly hooking up with a non-binary server at a diner in the midwest – makes other arguments, models other kinds of hope (for an immediate pleasure).

Other versions of “Beeswing,” meanwhile, take the side of the narrator and have a misogynist tinge against the person who roams. Having these two songs back to back argues in favor of roaming and typifies desire as a kind of roaming – Haggerty wants, the Romany wants, the server wants, and at the risk of thinking he might be a little autobiographical, Willi wants. Throughout these two albums, the hunger is palpable.

Roaming is central to Carlisle’s music, not only on this album, but as a theme. Roaming through time and space, through the cosmos, and on the very real roads of California, Texas, or Wisconsin. The first thing that Carlisle and I talked about was BBQ and about Kansas City, where he is staying on Good Friday when we connect. That could be seen as a kind of metaphor – having strong feelings about a very local meat & three and about the history of a song that is brand new; having thoughts about the place where he is landing and a song that is centuries old.

Roaming is a way through this mess, through catastrophe and disaster as a way of finding community, against despair while not naively thinking things will get better without labor. This pattern of Carlisle’s interpretive skill is top notch throughout both of these albums, because of that curious hunger, that roaming, and that possibility of a way forward, even in the darkest era.

The last question I asked Carlisle was about theater – he had worked at Fringe shows in his 20s. He said that he wanted to direct or act again, especially Brecht. I keep returning to Brecht’s “Motto,” which reads in its entirety:

In the dark times, will there also be singing?
Yes, there will also be singing.
About the dark times.

This poem was the epigraph to a book written when Brecht had moved to Denmark, escaping German fascism.

Winged Victory reveals there is great beauty in darkness, that singing itself is an act of optimism, and that exile creates its own narratives. Therein, Carlisle has found a way of singing through dark times.


All photos: Whit Stone

All Kinds of Country

Editor’s Note: Each issue of Good Country, our co-founder Ed Helms will share a handful of good country artists, albums, and songs direct from his own earphones in Ed’s Picks.

William Beckmann

Born and raised in a border town in Texas, singer-songwriter William Beckmann perfectly illustrates how Mexican folk, Tejano music, and country have always been closely intertwined. Latin folk is Americana; mariachi and Norteño are country. With Good Country like his, that connectedness feels intuitive – and obvious. Beckmann’s new album arrives June 20.


Rhiannon Giddens & Justin Robinson

Rhiannon Giddens & Justin Robinson, founding members of revered string band the Carolina Chocolate Drops, reunite on a new old-time album, What Did The Blackbird Say to the Crow, which celebrates North Carolina repertoire, fiddle, banjo, and front porch pickin’. I’m excited to join them both – and many other special guests like Steve Martin, Amythyst Kiah, Leyla McCalla, and more – at the Hollywood Bowl on June 18 for a special one-night-only edition of their Old-Time Revue.


The SteelDrivers

“Uneasy listening” or “bluegrass soul,” whatever you call their style of music, the SteelDrivers are a bluegrass institution. Their new album, Outrun, is their first with Sun Records, an excellent label match for a group that combines bluegrass, blues, country, and soul with music that’s equally at home in Nashville, Memphis, Muscle Shoals, and beyond. Love this band of ringers!


Jack Van Cleaf

There’s a new sort of Americana/country/Gen Z folk brewing between social media and music cities like Nashville, Chicago, and LA – and Jack Van Cleaf is at the center of its rise. Is it alt-country? Is it contemplative bedroom folk? Is it indie rock? Is it singer-songwriter Americana? It’s all of the above. Check out his latest LP, JVC, to discover your own terms for his striking style.


Watchhouse

My old pals Andrew and Emily were a pick last year when they guested on “Pink Skies” on Zach Bryan’s smash hit album, The Great American Bar Scene. Now they’re back with a full-length album of their own, Rituals, out today! We’ve been covering and collaborating with Watchhouse for over a decade, so stay tuned for more celebrations of the new record coming soon to BGS and Good Country.


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Photo Credits: William Beckmann by Connor Robertson; Rhiannon Giddens & Justin Robinson by Karen Cox; The SteelDrivers by Glenn Rose; Jack Van Cleaf by Joseph Wasilewski; Watchhouse by Jillian Clark.