How-dee! And Happy 100 to the Grand Ole Opry

In 1925, world leaders were signing the final treaties coming out of WWI; Congress authorized work on Mt. Rushmore as a national memorial; the Scopes Trial was held in Tennessee; and the first patent on radio transmission was only 28 years old.

And, in 1925, WSM first broadcast its barn dance – soon to become the Grand Ole Opry.

One hundred years later, the Grand Ole Opry is the world’s longest-running radio program. After a century that saw changes unparalleled in world history, audiences are still drawn to the Opry. Every week thousands make the pilgrimage to the Grand Ole Opry House in Nashville while others tune in around the world. The show continues to inspire new generations of performers to aspire to step “into the circle” on the Opry House stage.

President Jimmy Carter on the Grand Ole Opry stage with Kelly Foxton, Hank Snow, Mel Tillis, June Carter Cash, Skeeter Davis, Bill Monroe, Jeannie C. Riley, and others on October 9, 1980. Photo courtesy of Ryman Hospitality Properties.

In The Beginning Was Insurance

In the 1920s, Edwin Craig was watching radio stations emerge across the nation – and seeing the money-making potential for sponsors and owners. He convinced Cornelius Craig, his father and founder of the National Life and Accident Insurance Company, that a radio station could sell a lot of insurance.

Soon, the fifth floor of the company’s downtown Nashville building held a radio studio. The call letters WSM stood for “We Shield Millions,” the company’s motto. A program that would become the lifeblood of country music started as a way to promote life insurance.

The hiring of George D. Hay away from Chicago’s WLS was the beginning of the WSM Barn Dance. The 30-year-old who called himself The Solemn Old Judge and started every show with a steamboat whistle would set the tone for much of the Opry’s 100 years – including its name.

Which all started with a clash of cultures.

Some upper-crust Nashville residents complained the only radio they could hear on weekends was string band programming from the dominant WSM station. In response, WSM began carrying the syndicated “Music Appreciation Hour.”

The Barn Dance slot followed the classical program, and Hay, not one to pass up a good line, said, “For the past hour, we have been listening to music largely from Grand Opera, but from now on, we will present ‘the Grand Ole Opry.”

George D. Hay is pictured at microphone with a whistle and Uncle Jimmy Thompson is seated in this 1925 photograph from when the Grand Ole Opry was still the WSM Barn Dance. Photo courtesy of Ryman Hospitality Properties.

For years, the Shield Men – door-to-door National Life and Accident insurance salesmen carrying the company’s shield logo – introduced themselves as representing the Grand Ole Opry. They would even listen outside windows to see who was tuned in to the Opry – and who would be a likely customer.

The earliest WSM shows relied on local talent, running heavily toward fiddlers and string bands. But Hay would invite whoever he thought the audience would like.

DeFord Bailey, a Black musician grounded in both the blues and old-time string band music, became a regular, wowing audiences with his harmonica. Kitty Cora Cline, the first female soloist, performed on hammered dulcimer, and Fred Shriver played the accordion. Uncle Dave Macon on his banjo with Sid Harkreader on fiddle and guitar set the stage for the comedy that would remain central to the Opry’s success, with songs like, “Keep My Skillet Good and Greasy.”

A Beacon

As the recording industry grew, the variety of musicians available to the Opry grew, as well. The show began featuring brother duets, cowboy music, Western swing and solo crooners. Bill Monroe & the Blue Grass Boys were featured stars for decades.

Opry singers expressed the joys of new romance, the happiness of Sunday dinner on the lawn, the sorrow of lost love, and the loneliness of leaving home. Audiences across America listened – and related. The Opry became a focus of family life.

Dolly Parton, like many rural listeners, grew up without electricity. Her family faithfully listened to the Opry on a battery-powered radio. Waylon Jennings’ dad would hook their radio to the car battery. Jeannie Seely’s family would pile in the car and drive up a hill until they could get the signal. Opry history is filled with stories of musicians who listened as children – and dreamed of growing up to perform, like their idols, on the iconic stage.

Opry member Dierks Bentley, who gracefully moves between country and bluegrass, told BGS, “Being invited to join at all is the biggest honor – especially for me, personally. I grew up listening to all the Opry greats on the radio with my dad, so becoming a member is like having the ultimate backstage pass to see the best musicians in the world. And to be invited by Marty Stuart … hands down, it was one of the coolest nights of my life.”

Dan Rogers, the Opry’s senior vice president and executive producer, said the Opry has always been a place to celebrate the good times and be uplifted during the tough times. “Think about,” he said, “the folks who tuned in on Saturday nights during World War II. That was their only source of entertainment throughout the week.” Minnie Pearl, with her signature “How-dee,” and Roy Acuff gave them respite from war news.

On the first show after the 9-11 attacks in 2001, Rogers said, “Our background singers sang an a cappella version of ‘God Bless America.’ And one by one, the people in the audience stood and sang along. And I remember thinking, I bet everybody tuned in across the country is singing along to ‘God Bless America.’”

The Opry’s response to the COVID-19 crisis created desperately needed connection during a frightening time of isolation.

Just a week after deciding that live audience shows weren’t safe, Opry staff arranged a pared-down streaming production with no audience and a skeleton crew. Longtime cast members Bill Anderson, Jeannie Seely and Connie Smith held down the first night alongside Mandy Barnett, Michael Cleveland & Flamekeeper, and Sam Williams.

For the second weekend of restrictions, veterans Vince Gill, Marty Stuart, and Brad Paisley sat on stools spread out across the stage and pulled off what Rogers called “a beautiful, beautiful show.”

Watching from his office, Rogers started reading comments from grateful listeners. For months, people marked their calendars to tune in. They wrote, “I’m in Europe. I set my alarm. It’s 2 a.m. here, but I wanted to experience this with a community.”

Marty Stuart, Vince Gill, and Brad Paisley perform for an empty Grand Ole Opry House during the COVID-19 lockdowns in 2020. Photo by Chris Hollo, courtesy of Ryman Hospitality Properties.

Kathy Mattea, the newest Opry inductee, feels those connections whenever she performs there.

People may have sung along to her hit “18 Wheels and a Dozen Roses” in their car or in the shower, but at the Opry, she says to BGS, “Here’s your chance to sit with an audience and sing this song that everybody knows. Nobody knows who the person next to them voted for and it doesn’t matter at that moment.”

“The Ellis Island of Country Music”

In the early days of radio, what was called hillbilly music was as limitless as the range of a 50,000 watt radio station. And the Opry remains dedicated to maintaining those wide open spaces.

Garth Brooks and Trisha Yearwood, in their forward to the book 100 Years of the Grand Ole Opry, refer to the show as the “Ellis Island of Country Music – a place where all are welcome.”

Contemporary country often has been accused of being homogenous and limited. But despite the factors that have controlled commercial country, the Opry maintains its open-arms attitude. Rogers said, “The two core tenets of an Opry show are celebrating the past, present, and future of country music, and also showcasing multiple genres under the country music umbrella.”

In any show, he said, “You might have something that’s on the top 20 of the country charts today. And you’ll have country classics. You might have a contemporary Christian song, Americana string music, or even something from outside the genre by somebody who just happens to be a country music fan or was influenced by country music.”

In 1974, the R&B-oriented Pointer Sisters included an original country song, “Fairytale,” on their second album. The cross-over hit earned them an invitation to the Opry stage, where they became the first Black group to perform.

Ringo Starr appeared for the first time in 2025 and James Taylor’s debut on November 11 will be remembered as a big part of the 100th anniversary celebration.

And, Rogers said, “Because we can do it, it’s fun to take a chance on a new artist.”

Before his first Opry appearance in July 2022, Zach Top had no hits to his name. But Rogers remembered the programming team saying, “You don’t see an artist like that every day. It sure feels to us like our audience would absolutely eat that guy up!” Today, Top’s music is everywhere.

Bluegrass has been a staple since before it had a name and it has never lost its place on the stage. Bentley and Del McCoury played “Roll on Buddy, Roll On” when the Grand Ole Opry House first reopened after the 2010 flood closed its doors for months.

Charlie Mattos is a 10-year veteran Opry announcer and longtime co-host and producer of WSM’s morning show. He said that on any given night, a portion of the Opry House audience “may truly have never seen a bluegrass band play.”

“And when Del McCoury and the boys finish with an incredible instrumental,” Mattos continued, “or Sister Sadie blisters the stage … the enthusiasm that comes out of that crowd, the immediate standing ovation for the insane musicianship that they have just witnessed …” Mattos said, “it blows their minds.”

Mattea said, “Bluegrass is front porch jazz – the virtuoso playing and the vocals and the harmonies and the trading off of licks. That’s how I fell in love with bluegrass.” And the Opry exposes millions to that brilliance.

A Good-Natured Riot

The Opry show is a complex set of acts and sets requiring precision planning, flexibility, and good nature on the part of the announcers – and commitment on the part of the performers. Rehearsals are brief or non-existent. Timing is everything.

Borrowing a phrase from George D. Hay, the Opry is still sometimes called a “good-natured riot.”

Mattos said, “When you come to see the show live, you see it all. The set changes. The artists leaving as the announcer sends them off. You can see the stage crew out there and usually in 90 seconds they can completely swap things around.”

But while reading a commercial during set changes, Mattos may notice the stage manager giving the “stretch” signal. He might have to keep talking for as long as four minutes – a millennium in radio time.

Sometimes the commercials themselves become the entertainment.

The first time Glad Wags sponsored an Opry segment, Chuck Morgan was announcing. While he stood off-stage reading the dog food commercial, house bassist Bill Linneman came up behind him and started barking. “By my last year there, there were like 20 people behind me going at it,” Morgan said. (The consensus is that Connie Smith does a great chihuahua imitation.)

A Family

Jeannie Seely – who racked up nearly 5,400 performances on the Grand Ole Opry before her passing in August 2025 – remembered it was more than the music that fueled her desire to join the Opry: “That’s hearing these people, like Mr. Acuff and Minnie [Pearl] and Jimmy Dickens and all of them, coming together every week,” she says in 100 Years of the Grand Ole Opry. “They always sounded like they were so glad to be together. They picked on each other and joked, and I thought, that’s just like a family.”

And they were family. When the plane Jim Reeves was aboard crashed in a wooded Nashville suburb, Marty Robbins and Ernest Tubb joined the search party, as did the elegant Nashville socialite Sarah Ophelia Colley Cannon – known as Minnie Pearl.

Opry star Jean Shepard was expecting her second child with husband Harold “Hawkshaw” Hawkins when Hawkins died in the plane crash that also killed Patsy Cline and Cowboy Copas. After months feeling adrift, as Shepard was quoted in the 100 Years book, “I looked down my driveway one day and here come two big black limousines full of the so-called ‘higher-ups’ from the Grand Ole Opry. They said, ‘We want you to come back to the Grand Ole Opry.’ And it really meant a lot to me.”

The family feeling is no accident. In earlier years, Opry members had to perform a specified number of Saturday nights a year. While there’s no set number today, Rogers said they look for a sense of commitment in new members. “It truly is about that relationship,” he said.

Rogers quoted Mattea, upon her invitation to become a member, saying, “These people treat you like family, no matter what.”

One of Mattea’s favorite Opry memories involves a bass player who toured with her. “He was sitting on a stool, playing and singing some old Western swing chestnut, and suddenly Riders in the Sky leaned into the dressing room in full regalia and started singing harmony.

“He was gobsmacked. He felt it was the highlight of his life,” she said.

Bluegrass performer Kody Norris’ music is influenced heavily by first- and second-generation bluegrass. But the band’s preference for flashy suits dates back to a family-friendly welcome Norris received 25 years ago.

His parents took nine-year-old Kody backstage at the Opry, “and I met Bill Anderson. And he had on a red rhinestone suit. That’s the first one I ever saw up close, where I could touch it.”

Later that day, upon meeting his equally rhinestone-clad hero, Porter Wagoner, young Kody got so excited he spit out his chewing gum. Wagoner graciously grabbed two Opry-logoed napkins, one of which the little boy used for his gum. The other one the grown Norris still keeps in perfect condition.

The Circle is Unbroken

In 1974, the Opry left its revered home of decades, the Ryman Auditorium, to move to the deliciously air-conditioned 4,400-seat Grand Ole Opry House.

To honor its longtime home, the Opry crew cut a circle out of the Ryman stage and inset it in the new Opry House stage. The circle symbolizes the Opry’s continuity, respect for the past, and optimism for the future.

Mattea experienced that sense of a completed circle on the day she became an Opry member.

“Suzy [Bogguss] was there. We’ve toured together and sung on each other’s records. She’s my closest artist friend, and she was the only one at the ceremony who was not a member. And I thought how generous it was of her to be there.

“So, while I was overflowing with celebration, to get to invite my friend to the party publicly in the name of the Opry was the sweetest gift. It was a moment I’ll never forget, and I’m going to be there for her induction, too.” Bogguss will officially be inducted as an Opry member in early 2026.

Braid Paisley and Little Jimmy Dickens return the Circle to the Opry stage after the 2010 flood. Photo courtesy of Ryman Hospitality Properties.

Join The Celebration

There’s nothing low-key about the Grand Ole Opry – so in the classic Opry spirit, fans have had plenty of opportunity to celebrate the centennial all year long.

Earlier this year, NBC broadcast a three-hour anniversary special, with dozens of stars ranging from Reba McEntire to Jelly Roll to The War and Treaty. The Opry also took the show to London’s Royal Albert Hall for the very first time. You can stream clips of these and other Opry events on YouTube and social media.

With the Virgin Music Group, the Opry has produced the album Opry 100, Country’s Greatest Songs (released November 7). Among the unforgettable recordings are Vince Gill singing his heart-rending “Go Rest High on That Mountain,” Dolly Parton singing “I Will Always Love You,” and Ashley McBryde covering the classic “Your Cheatin’ Heart.” You can order the album from the Opry site.

Craig Shelburne, Brenda Colladay, and Opry members and employees collaborated on 100 Years of the Grand Ole Opry, a book filled with anecdotes and photos that vividly illustrate the Opry’s remarkable history. And to teach your children well, there’s also a new childrens’ picture book written by Emily Frans and illustrated by Susanna Chapman. Find them in your local bookstore.

And, on November 28, 2025, the official 100th anniversary of the Grand Ole Opry we all hold dear, the Opry is celebrating with two huge birthday party shows featuring country stars and Opry members like Vince Gill, Ricky Skaggs, Trace Adkins, Dailey & Vincent, Bill Anderson, Jamey Johnson, Marty Stuart, and many, many more. Tickets are available here.

Of course, the celebrations will continue in 2026.

“The Opry is the core and soul of country music,” Bentley said. “It’s a place where the past, present and future of our genre all come together. There isn’t anywhere else like it.”


Continue exploring our Artist of the Month coverage of Opry 100 here.

All photos courtesy of Ryman Hospitality Properties, credits and attributions as marked. Lead image: Bill Monroe & the Blue Grass Boys and the Opry Square Dancers take the Opry stage at the Ryman Auditorium in the 1960s.

Jake Owen Started Bro Country. His New Album is Anything But

Depending on who you ask, Jake Owen might be responsible for the very first bro country song. His 2011 hit “Barefoot Blue Jean Night” wasn’t the first party-ready ode to Southern summers and ice-cold beer, but its slick mix of country signifiers and stadium-rock production – courtesy of Joey Moi, best known for producing Nickelback and later Morgan Wallen – proved highly influential, arguably paving the way for crossover smashes like Florida Georgia Line’s “Cruise” and Blake Shelton’s “Boys ‘Round Here.”

“Never gonna grow up, never gonna slow down,” Owen sang on his signature hit, neatly summing up the youth-obsessed ethos of the bro country era. Now 44 and newly independent after 20 years on RCA Nashville and later Big Loud, he’s singing a different tune.

“I’ve made a lot of records that had a fantasy, ‘Remember when we were young?’ kind of feel to them,” Owen told Good Country. “What feels good about this new record is that I can listen to it and feel like I’m listening to my life right now. It’s very real.”

Dreams to Dream, Owen’s eighth studio album and his first with Shooter Jennings producing, is a sharp left turn for an artist known for hits like “Beachin,’” “I Was Jack (You Were Diane),” and “American Country Love Song.” Earlier this year, Owen decamped to LA amid the wildfires, leaving the comfort of Nashville behind in search of creative truth and a more organic sound. The result is one of the year’s best and most surprising country albums, which trades bro-ish bravado for world-weary introspection and a classic-country sensibility.

The title track is a rollicking, country-rock statement of purpose that name-checks Hank Williams, Jr. and establishes the stakes: “I’ve been down, but I ain’t no quitter/ ‘Bout to get up on my feet/ ‘Cause I still got dreams to dream,” Owen sings in the rousing chorus. On the Troy Jones-penned “Wouldn’t Be Gone,” he muses about leaving stardom behind to work in a hardware store. (“I already know a thing or two about hardwood floors,” goes the song’s best line.) Other standouts include “Chill of December,” a Haggardian expression of winter loneliness, and “The One I Did It To,” a doleful admission of romantic wrongdoing.

In a Q&A, Owen spoke to Good Country about teaming up with Jennings, defining authenticity on his own terms, and why he doesn’t shy away from his bro country past.

This album is a departure from the sound that you’re best known for. What made now the right time to do an album like this?

Jake Owen: My life has always been about timing and believing that I’m supposed to be where I am. The album’s called Dreams to Dream and it came about because I was in this interesting place in my life where I’ve had a record deal for 20 years and, all of a sudden, I’m doing something on my own. Which felt kind of like freedom, but also felt very scary.

For a long time I was focused on the more commercialized songs that would work on radio, since I was on a major label, and I felt like this is the time to make the kind of record that I’ve always really loved. I’ve always tried to follow my heart and what my intuitions have told me. They haven’t always been right, but I definitely follow them.

What was it like working with Shooter Jennings?

He really exceeded my expectations. I expected to go out there and make a record, but I didn’t know I would leave there with an awesome new friend and somebody that really believed in me as a person with dreams and a purpose and things they wanted to say. He was so encouraging to me. I felt safe with him, which is a weird way to put it, I guess. But you need people to pat you on the back and tell you that you’re doing the right thing.

It also was at a time when – I’m not ashamed to say it – there were not a lot of people ringing my phone in Nashville to tell me they were proud of 20 years of what I’d done in my career and 11 number one songs. Kind of weird, right? But the one guy that was calling me and applauding me and telling me that I could do way better, bigger things in my life than what I’d already done was Shooter Jennings. Out of all people, right? That says so much about how much he loves music and believes in people. I think you’d probably hear that same answer from anybody else that he’s worked with.

The second song on the album, “Them Old Love Songs,” is a Waylon Jennings cover. Why did covering Waylon make sense for this record?

Well, there was no part of me going out there that thought I would do any covers. But Shooter and I just talked about life and music out there, and he was saying that his dad always would cut cover songs for fun when he came off the road. Shooter would encourage me, each night or whenever we were done with the session, to do some covers and just have some fun. With that one in particular, I was nervous to ask Shooter, because it felt a little cliché. I wondered how many people work with him and have wanted to do that or if he’s offended by that.

But I always loved that song and the album that it’s on, Are You Ready for the Country. It’s pretty wild, because that album starts off really rocking, and then it goes into that. To me, if you listen to that song, the lyrics say, “I wish I had a true fine woman/ Let her rock me all night long/ And maybe we could get it together/ Like people do in them old love songs.” I’ve been singing that my whole life and it’s still the way I dream of love. And then, going back to the first verse, it says, “Nobody cares where I’m going, all they know is I’m coming back.” I don’t think anybody cared that I was going to make a record with Shooter. Nobody really even knew.

Also, one of the reasons Shooter and I decided to make this album was our love for the Hank Williams Jr. record, The New South, that his dad actually produced. Hank moved to Alabama to make that album, I think it was in 1977, and said he needed to get out of Music City because he wanted to go make his kind of music with his friends. And I felt the same way. Like, here I am going to LA to make a record with Shooter, and he’s encouraging me like Waylon encouraged Hank. So recording that Waylon song, with Shooter producing it, it just felt right.

You recently celebrated the 20-year anniversary of moving to Nashville and signing your first record deal with RCA. You made a post referring to “the highest of highs and lowest of lows” in your career. Could you tell me about some of those highs and lows?

Yeah, well, first off, thanks for even acknowledging that, which I think is important to the reasoning behind this whole record in general. I would start off by telling you that the highest high for me was just moving to Nashville and knowing that something was ahead of me. When I left college, I left my twin brother and a lot of my friends and my entire family at home in Florida. I still look back on that guy, and I’m like, “What the fuck was I thinking?” But I guess I just had to chase it. And then getting to Nashville and immersing yourself with people that are so much better than you are, I just didn’t have that where I was in college in Tallahassee. I kind of felt alone. Getting a record deal was also a big part of that, feeling like I had accomplished part of what I came here to do. And then I spent the next seven years having to figure out how to keep the guys in the band paid and the buses rolling on the road and how to get my first number one song. Everybody thinks that’s the easy part once you sign the record deal, but it really wasn’t. It was a rude awakening.

And I went through a divorce. I got married, I had a kid. It’s like the classic country song shit, man. I think that was a big low for me, having to leave my family to go on the road. I had been very successful from my dreams that I chased, but the one thing that I probably desired the most, outside of music, was a family life. The one thing that I’ve never been good at and I haven’t figured out is that real solid relationship in life, building love and trust, and that bothers me a lot. It bothers me that I can be good at a lot of other things, and that is the most important thing to me, and I haven’t been so great at it.

You were a major player in the bro country era, which is now having this sort of nostalgic reappraisal. I’m thinking of the HARDY and Ernest song “Bro Country,” which is an ode to that time in country music. When you think about that era, what goes through your mind?

It’s funny, because I don’t know that anybody has said this before, but I’ll tell you right now: I started that shit. Everybody wants to shy away from bro country or whatever, but I invented that shit. And yeah, I am proud, in a way. I remember being at a time in my career where I had a record deal for seven or eight years and I had a couple songs that had done all right, but I was feeling like I was gonna lose my record deal if I didn’t try to do some different shit. And I didn’t have a producer at the time. I’d left Tony Brown, who was great. And he’s like, “Hey, man, you should meet this guy, Joey Moi. I think he’d be great for you.”

Joey obviously came from Nickelback and all that. At the time, no different than when I left Tallahassee for Nashville, everybody was like, “Dude, what the fuck are you doing?” So here’s a guy now from Nickelback who’s gonna try out making country music on me, which was probably a crazy thing, too. It wasn’t that I was trying to sell out. If anything, I look back and I’m like, “Dude, I had the balls to just do something different at the time.”

“Barefoot Blue Jean Night” was our first release and it had all of these claps and stomps and loop shit. It ended up being the most-played song of the decade [according to Country Aircheck]. I have the plaque on my wall. It was a major, major changing point in my life and career, because it worked. Not only did I keep making those songs for the next few years, but it influenced a shit-ton of people.

I think a lot of people might want to avoid that association. It’s kind of like the way that ‘80s rock and roll gets shit on sometimes, but there are still people in their cars cranking it to 11, right? If you look back at my early career, the songs I was writing were very country, because that’s what I always loved. I went on tour with Brooks & Dunn and Alan Jackson. So when all of a sudden, years later, all of the people that were my heroes were like, “I hate this kid,” it kind of hurt my feelings. But I always knew in my heart that I would get back to what brought me to the table.

Among the detractors you alluded to, people who are into more traditional-sounding country music, there’s this idea that pop-country or bro country is inauthentic. What do you think is “authentic” country music?

Authenticity is the ability for artists to take any type of music and just make it their own. Johnny Cash never shot a man in Reno. But it was a huge song for him. George Jones didn’t write “He Stopped Loving Her Today,” but he owns that song. Stardust is the biggest album Willie Nelson ever released and he didn’t write a single song on it. And he’s one of the greatest songwriters of all time. Authenticity isn’t about where somebody’s from or how they grew up. If you own what you’re doing, and you deliver it in a way that’s believable, I think that’s authentic.

I’m thinking now of this back-and-forth you had with Jason Isbell a couple years ago about artists writing their own songs.

Yeah, dude. That guy. I love Jason Isbell, that’s what’s crazy. Some of the artists that I love the most just spout off at the mouth. The other day I said something about Zach Bryan. I love that guy’s music too, right? He’s amazing, and he’s also uber successful – selling 120,000 tickets or whatever, which I could never even fathom. And Jason is out winning GRAMMYs on top of being an incredible guitar player, so much more talented than I could ever dream of being. But I don’t understand why guys like that will take the time on shit on someone else’s music.

That’s never made sense to me and it’s always made me want to just ask that question directly to them. Which is what I did to Jason. I was just like, “Dude, I’m not going to get into an argument with you over Twitter, so give me your number. I’m going to just call you and have a conversation about why you feel this way.” He and I had a great conversation. And he was very cool to acknowledge and entertain my questioning behind why he would just spout at the mouth about stuff like that. We both ended it at the time – and this was years ago, when I was drinking, or maybe he was – he’s like, “Dude, we should catch a beer sometime.”

So, to go back to the authenticity thing, there’s so many people that are so great at a lot of things. One of my absolute favorite artists right now is Charley Crockett and he does that, too. I wonder, sometimes, I’m like, “Why are you guys all trying to prove to one another that you’re more authentic than the next guy?” Sorry, you can tell I’m getting tense talking about it. But I’m confused by it, because those guys make some of my favorite music and it bothers me that they feel the need to try to blow somebody else’s candle out in order to make their already blazing one shining brighter.

I wonder if part of you wanted to prove to that type of person that you could make one of these really rooted, quote-unquote “authentic,” hardcore country records.

I think it was about proving to myself what my intuitions are and what my beliefs have always been about what’s right for me. I also really needed somebody to tell me that what I was doing was the right decision, and Shooter never wavered. He was constantly telling me, “Dude, this is it. You’re going to open up a Pandora’s box for your career in ways that I don’t think you’ve seen before.” I will say that it’s definitely opened my eyes to a lot of things and a lot of people reached out to me that have never reached out to me before.

One of my favorite songwriters, artists, people I’m a huge fan of is Brandy Clark. I think she’s incredible and just a brilliant songwriter. And she happened to be in LA when I was there and stopped by to see Shooter. She called me after and I just started crying. Because she was like, “Jake, I’m so happy for you. Like, I hear you in this.” It was just so fulfilling to hear that from her. She didn’t have to do that, but I was so moved by it.

I’m grateful for people that don’t think about music from a standpoint of judgment, but look at it as a possibility of something greater.


Photo Credit: Spidey Smith

See the Nominees for the 2026 GRAMMY Awards

The nominees for the 2026 GRAMMY Awards have been announced by the Recording Academy, looking ahead to “Music’s Biggest Night” on Sunday, February 1, 2026 at the Crypto.com Arena in Los Angeles, California. The primetime show will be broadcast live on CBS and will stream live and on demand on Paramount+.

Legends, icons, familiar names, and first-time nominees can all be found across the 95 GRAMMY categories that have been unveiled. In the Country & American Roots Music field, standouts include Tyler Childers (4 nominations), Lainey Wilson (3 nominations), Sierra Hull (4 nominations, including Best Instrumental Composition), Jesse Welles (4 nominations), and I’m With Her (3 nominations). Alison Krauss & Union Station, who released their first album in 14 years, Arcadia, earlier this year, have been nominated twice for 2026, bringing Krauss’ total number of nominations across her career to 46. Krauss is one of the most-nominated and most-awarded artists in GRAMMY history.

Unsurprisingly, one of those nominations for Krauss & Union Station finds Arcadia in the running for Best Bluegrass Album. The LP will compete with Carter & Cleveland by Jason Carter & Michael Cleveland, A Tip Toe High Wire by Sierra Hull, Outrun by the SteelDriversand Highway Prayers by Billy Strings for the Best Bluegrass Album gramophone. (This year, Best Bluegrass Album is Strings’ sole nomination.)

In country, for the first time Best Country Album has been split into two constituent categories, Best Contemporary Country Album and Best Traditional Country Album. Kelsea Ballerini, Tyler Childers, Eric Church, Jelly Roll, and Miranda Lambert will vie for Best Contemporary Country Album this year, while Charley Crockett, Margo Price, and Zach Top find themselves nominated for Best Traditional Country Album – with father-and-son Willie and Lukas Nelson nominated as well, pitted against each other for the very first time.

Outside of the Country & American Roots Music field, roots musicians are represented far and wide. Béla Fleck, Edmar Castañeda, and Antonio Sánchez’s BEATrio self-titled record is nominated for Best Contemporary Instrumental Album. Dan Auerbach is up for Producer of the Year (Non-Classical). Elton John and Brandi Carlile are nominated for Best Traditional Pop Vocal Album and Best Song Written For Visual Media. Plus, Sinners, the phenomenal and horrifying Ryan Coogler film steeped in various roots music traditions, has racked up five nominations across categories and fields.

It’s certainly an exciting roster of nominees for the 2026 GRAMMY Awards! Below, find the complete list of nominations from the Country & American Roots Music field, plus select categories featuring roots musicians, artists, and projects from across the various other GRAMMY fields and categories.

The 68th Annual GRAMMY Awards will take place on Sunday, February 1, 2026.

Country & American Roots Music

Best Country Solo Performance

“Nose On The Grindstone” – Tyler Childers
“Good News” – Shaboozey
“Bad As I Used To Be” – Chris Stapleton
“I Never Lie” – Zach Top
“Somewhere Over Laredo” – Lainey Wilson

Best Country Duo/Group Performance

“A Song To Sing” – Miranda Lambert, Chris Stapleton
“Trailblazer” – Reba McEntire, Miranda Lambert, Lainey Wilson
“Love Me Like You Used To Do” – Margo Price, Tyler Childers
“Amen” – Shaboozey, Jelly Roll
“Honky Tonk Hall Of Fame” – George Strait, Chris Stapleton

Best Country Song

“Bitin’ List” – Tyler Childers, songwriter. (Tyler Childers)
“Good News” –  Michael Ross Pollack, Sam Elliot Roman, Jacob Torrey, songwriters. (Shaboozey)
“I Never Lie” – Carson Chamberlain, Tim Nichols, Zach Top, songwriters. (Zach Top)
“Somewhere Over Laredo” – Andy Albert, Trannie Anderson, Dallas Wilson, Lainey Wilson, songwriters. (Lainey Wilson)
“A Song To Sing” – Jenee Fleenor, Jesse Frasure, Miranda Lambert, Chris Stapleton, songwriters. (Miranda Lambert, Chris Stapleton)

Best Traditional Country Album

Dollar A Day – Charley Crockett
American Romance – Lukas Nelson
Oh What A Beautiful World – Willie Nelson
Hard Headed Woman – Margo Price
Ain’t In It For My Health – Zach Top

Best Contemporary Country Album

Patterns – Kelsea Ballerini
Snipe Hunter – Tyler Childers
Evangeline Vs. The Machine – Eric Church
Beautifully Broken – Jelly Roll
Postcards From Texas – Miranda Lambert

Best American Roots Performance

“LONELY AVENUE” – Jon Batiste, Featuring Randy Newman
“Ancient Light” – I’m With Her
“Crimson And Clay” – Jason Isbell
“Richmond On The James” – Alison Krauss & Union Station
“Beautiful Strangers” – Mavis Staples

Best Americana Performance

“Boom” – Sierra Hull
“Poison In My Well” – Maggie Rose, Grace Potter
“Godspeed” – Mavis Staples
“That’s Gonna Leave A Mark” – Molly Tuttle
“Horses” – Jesse Welles

Best American Roots Song

“Ancient Light” – Sarah Jarosz, Aoife O’Donovan, Sara Watkins, songwriters. (I’m With Her)
“BIG MONEY” – Jon Batiste, Mike Elizondo, Steve McEwan, songwriters. (Jon Batiste)
“Foxes In The Snow” – Jason Isbell, songwriter. (Jason Isbell)
“Middle” – Jesse Welles, songwriter. (Jesse Welles)
“Spitfire” – Sierra Hull, songwriter. (Sierra Hull)

Best Americana Album

BIG MONEY – Jon Batiste
Bloom – Larkin Poe
Last Leaf On The Tree – Willie Nelson
So Long Little Miss Sunshine – Molly Tuttle
Middle – Jesse Welles

Best Bluegrass Album

Carter & Cleveland – Michael Cleveland & Jason Carter
A Tip Toe High Wire – Sierra Hull
Arcadia – Alison Krauss & Union Station
Outrun – The SteelDrivers
Highway Prayers – Billy Strings

Best Traditional Blues Album

Ain’t Done With The Blues – Buddy Guy
Room On The Porch – Taj Mahal & Keb’ Mo’
One Hour Mama: The Blues Of Victoria Spivey – Maria Muldaur
Look Out Highway – Charlie Musselwhite
Young Fashioned Ways – Kenny Wayne Shepherd & Bobby Rush

Best Contemporary Blues Album

Breakthrough – Joe Bonamassa
Paper Doll – Samantha Fish
A Tribute To LJK – Eric Gales
Preacher Kids – Robert Randolph
Family – Southern Avenue

Best Folk Album

What Did The Blackbird Say To The Crow – Rhiannon Giddens & Justin Robinson
Crown Of Roses – Patty Griffin
Wild And Clear And Blue – I’m With Her
Foxes In The Snow – Jason Isbell
Under The Powerlines (April 24 – September 24) – Jesse Welles

Best Regional Roots Music Album

Live At Vaughan’s – Corey Henry & The Treme Funktet
For Fat Man – Preservation Brass & Preservation Hall Jazz Band
Church Of New Orleans – Kyle Roussel
Second Line Sunday – Trombone Shorty And New Breed Brass Band
A Tribute To The King Of Zydeco – Various Artists

General Field

Producer of the Year (Non-Classical)

Dan Auerbach
Cirkut
Dijon
Blake Mills
Sounwave

Jazz, Traditional Pop, Contemporary Instrumental & Musical Theater

Best Jazz Performance

“Noble Rise” – Lakecia Benjamin, Featuring Immanuel Wilkins & Mark Whitfield
“Windows – Live” – Chick Corea, Christian McBride & Brian Blade
“Peace Of Mind / Dreams Come True” – Samara Joy
“Four” – Michael Mayo
“All Stars Lead To You – Live” –  Nicole Zuraitis, Dan Pugach, Tom Scott, Idan Morim, Keyon Harrold & Rachel Eckroth

Best Jazz Instrumental Album

Trilogy 3 (Live) – Chick Corea, Christian McBride & Brian Blade
Southern Nights – Sullivan Fortner, Featuring Peter Washington & Marcus Gilmore
Belonging – Branford Marsalis Quartet
Spirit Fall – John Patitucci, Featuring Chris Potter & Brian Blade
Fasten Up – Yellowjackets

Best Alternative Jazz Album

honey from a winter stone – Ambrose Akinmusire
Keys To The City Volume One – Robert Glasper
Ride into the Sun – Brad Mehldau
LIVE-ACTION – Nate Smith
Blues Blood – Immanuel Wilkins

Best Traditional Pop Vocal Album

Wintersongs – Laila Biali
The Gift Of Love – Jennifer Hudson
Who Believes In Angels? – Elton John & Brandi Carlile
Harlequin – Lady Gaga
A Matter Of Time – Laufey
The Secret Of Life: Partners, Volume 2 – Barbra Streisand

Best Contemporary Instrumental Album

Brightside – ARKAI
Ones & Twos – Gerald Clayton
BEATrio – Béla Fleck, Edmar Castañeda, Antonio Sánchez
Just Us – Bob James & Dave Koz
Shayan – Charu Suri

Gospel & Contemporary Christian Music

Best Roots Gospel Album

I Will Not Be Moved (Live) – The Brooklyn Tabernacle Choir
Then Came The Morning – Gaither Vocal Band
Praise & Worship: More Than A Hollow Hallelujah – The Isaacs
Good Answers – Karen Peck & New River
Back To My Roots – Candi Staton

Latin, Global, Reggae & New Age, Ambient, or Chant

Best Música Mexicana Album (Including Tejano)

MALA MÍA – Fuerza Regida, Grupo Frontera
Y Lo Que Viene – Grupo Frontera
Sin Rodeos – Paola Jara
Palabra De To’s (Seca) – Carín León
Bobby Pulido & Friends Una Tuya Y Una Mía – Por La Puerta Grande (En Vivo) – Bobby Pulido

Best Global Music Performance

“EoO” – Bad Bunny
“Cantando en el Camino” – Ciro Hurtado
“JERUSALEMA” – Angélique Kidjo
“Inmigrante Y Que?” – Yeisy Rojas
“Shrini’s Dream (Live)” – Shakti
“Daybreak” – Anoushka Shankar, Featuring Alam Khan, Sarathy Korwar

Children’s, Comedy, Audio Books, Visual Media & Music Video/Film

Best Song Written For Visual Media

“As Alive As You Need Me To Be” [From TRON: Ares] – Trent Reznor & Atticus Ross, songwriters. (Nine Inch Nails)
“Golden” [From KPop Demon Hunters] – EJAE & Mark Sonnenblick, songwriters. (HUNTR/X: EJAE, Audrey Nuna, REI AMI)
“I Lied to You” [From Sinners] – Ludwig Göransson & Raphael Saadiq, songwriters. (Miles Caton)
“Never Too Late” [From Elton John: Never Too Late] – Brandi Carlile, Elton John, Bernie Taupin & Andrew Watt, songwriters. (Elton John, Brandi Carlile)
“Pale, Pale Moon” [From Sinners] – Ludwig Göransson & Brittany Howard, songwriters. (Jayme Lawson)
“Sinners” [From Sinners] – Leonard Denisenko, Rodarius Green, Travis Harrington, Tarkan Kozluklu, Kyris Mingo & Darius
Povilinus, songwriters. (Rod Wave)

Production, Engineering, Composition & Arrangement

Best Instrumental Composition

“First Snow” – Remy Le Boeuf, composer. (Nordkraft Big Band, Remy Le Boeuf & Danielle Wertz)
“Live Life This Day: Movement I” – Miho Hazama, composer. (Miho Hazama, Danish Radio Big Band & Danish National Symphony Orchestra)
“Lord, That’s A Long Way” – Sierra Hull, composer. (Sierra Hull)
“Opening” – Zain Effendi, composer. (Zain Effendi)
“Train To Emerald City” – John Powell & Stephen Schwartz, composers (John Powell & Stephen Schwartz)
“Why You Here / Before The Sun Went Down” – Ludwig Göransson, composer. (Ludwig Göransson, Featuring Miles Caton)


Photo Credit: Tyler Childers by Sam Waxman; Sierra Hull courtesy of the artist. 

Sex, Drugs, and
Country Music

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.

Carter Faith
Carter Faith

Rolling Stone describes young country phenom Carter Faith as “a bright light for the future of country” – but she’s definitely illuminating the genre in the present! Her debut full length album, Cherry Valley, released earlier this month, displaying in full her gritty, fun, down-to-earth, and modern brand of Good Country.


Ghost Hounds
Ghost Hounds

Something special is happening with Ghost Hounds, a Pittsburgh Americana outfit combining blues, rock and roll, alt-country, soul, and much more. Their latest album, Almost Home, features the group’s new lead singer and frontman, SAVNT; a lineup change isn’t foiling this dynamic band, it’s building their momentum. They just made their Grand Ole Opry debut this week!


Vince Gill
Vince Gill

Perhaps our first repeat Ed’s Pick, but Vince Gill is always Good Country, right? The singer-picker-Country Hall of Famer-Eagles vocalist just announced a new series of EPs celebrating his lifelong career in music. The series, titled 50 Years From Home, begins with its first EP, I Gave You Everything I Had, today. We’re so grateful for all the years, all the music, and all you’ve given all of us, Vince!


Nick Shoulders
Nick Shoulders

Singer-songwriter-artist and Gar Hole Records co-proprietor Nick Shoulders is the real deal. He’s part of a broad movement of country musicians recentering the industry, its stakeholders, and its fans so the music better reflects all of the kinds of folks who love it. If you like Good Country that sticks it to the man, seeks justice, imagines a better world, and still sounds like “Grampa Music,” look out for his upcoming album, Refugia Blues (out October 31).


MORGXN
MORGXN

From Broadway in NYC to Lower Broadway in Nashville, MORGXN has done it all, but we find the singer-songwriter-performer thriving as he “reclaims his Nashville roots,” subverts expectations of musical and cultural stereotypes of country, and unabashedly celebrates queerness – especially so on his new twangy EP, Heartland: Part II. More MORGXNs like this in country, please and thank you.



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Photo Credits: Carter Faith by Bree Marie Fish; Ghost Hounds courtesy of the artist; Vince Gill by David McClister; Nick Shoulders by Shelby Merry; MORGXN by Gabriel Starner.

Country Stars
Country Songwriters

While every country star knows how to tell a good story, it takes a particular strain of excellence to also be able to write one.

Songwriting is the gravitational center around which Good Country orbits. Lyrics that strike at the oceanic spread of human existence, chords that evoke its sprawling underbelly – the songwriter weaves both words and notes together, using each as a tool to explore the other.

Uniquely attuned to the value in lyrical narrative and authenticity, country music self-selects its fair share of multi-hyphenate talents who, beyond their performative prowess or instrumental skills, have a knack for setting pen to paper. From Willie Nelson to Kacey Musgraves, country carries an extensive lineage of talented songsmiths. The following collection merely scrapes the surface of the best country star songwriters. Unsurprisingly, this list is a tangled web with many superb songwriters covering, popularizing, and collaborating on one another’s songs in true communal country fashion.

Willie Nelson

With over 300 songwriting credits to his name, Willie Nelson is indubitably one of the most prolific songwriters of all time – not just in country. Having written his first poem at the age of six, Nelson has nearly nine decades of steadfast dedication to the craft under his belt. Patsy Cline’s 1961 recording of “Crazy” lifted his songwriting further into the limelight. His pen went on to produce such potency that it helped define an entire new subgenre in the ‘70s— “outlaw country.”

Prized for his rebellious and forthright lyrical attitude, Nelson values raw emotion over placative commercial appeal, ironically earning him one of the most successful careers in country history. Over the years, Nelson has delivered a seemingly endless stream of hits performed by both himself and countless other musical giants, including Loretta Lynn, Merle Haggard, and Dolly Parton, just to name a few.

Bobbie Gentry

Bobbie Gentry is the keeper of a robust legacy of composing and performing. Having written her first song at age 7, Gentry taught herself to play a slew of instruments throughout her youth. When she attended college at UCLA, she began performing her songs out at the occasional nightclub, signing to Capitol Records some years later as an aspiring songwriter. In 1967, Capitol Records released “Ode to Billie Joe,” a song that Gentry had written and recorded herself. Gentry told The Washington Post that despite wanting to write songs for other artists, she only sang “Ode to Billie Joe” herself because it was cheaper than hiring another singer.

Despite her previous obscurity and the song’s dark tenor, “Ode” crept up the charts, surpassing the likes of Aretha Franklin and The Doors until it eventually pushed “All You Need is Love” out of the No. 1 spot. This astronomical success marked only the beginning of an industrious career for Gentry; she would go on to write and perform several other smash hits in addition to becoming the first woman to host a variety show on the BBC. She would later produce, choreograph, and write the music for her own nightclub revue in Las Vegas prior to retiring from show business.

Roger Miller

The King of the Road had range! Roger Miller’s songwriting legacy entailed chart-topping hits he wrote and performed himself, such as (of course) “King of the Road,” “Dang Me,” and “England Swings,” in addition to many that he wrote for other artists, such as “Billy Bayou” for Jim Reeves and Ray Price’s “Invitation to the Blues.”

His imaginative impulse made him uniquely qualified for the projects he took on later in life, including writing the music and lyrics for several songs in the 1973  animated Disney film Robin Hood, in which he also voiced Alan-a-Dale, the film’s rooster narrator. His acting career was even furthered by another musical project – Miller wrote the entire score for Big River, a Broadway musical based on Mark Twain’s The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn. The musical premiered in 1985 and earned a total of seven Tony Awards, including Best Score. Miller even played the part of Pap (Huck Finn’s father) onstage for three months following the original cast member’s departure for Hollywood.

Kacey Musgraves

One of the most influential women in today’s country sphere, Kacey Musgraves has sculpted a name for herself for both her instrumental/vocal prowess and her impactful songwriting capabilities. Her solo catalog is chock-full of compelling songs that explore the “nuances of being a human, alive and experiencing consciousness,” as she told The Cut. The thoughtful universality of her songwriting has attracted a distinguished array of performers, with Musgraves contributing her skills to songs performed and recorded by Martina McBride, Miranda Lambert, and Deana Carter, among others.

Kris Kristofferson

This September marked a year since his passing, but Kris Kristofferson’s legacy continues to burn bright. His songs maintain a rugged, raw quality without sacrificing any of their vibrance. Though Kristofferson only landed one No. 1 hit on Billboard’s Hot Country Songs chart performing his own original material, his songs were platformed by many others featured on this list, including “Help Me Through the Night,” which Sammi Smith, Loretta Lynn and Willie Nelson recorded, and “For the Good Times,” a tune made famous by Ray Price that was later recorded by Dolly Parton, Merle Haggard, Willie Nelson, and more. Kristofferson also penned a fair number of tunes for The Highwaymen, the country supergroup composed of Waylon Jennings, Willie Nelson, Johnny Cash, and Kristofferson himself, including their titular hit, “Highwayman.”

Trisha Yearwood

Author, singer, chef, Food Network television show host – just when we thought Trisha Yearwood had done it all, her 16th studio album, The Mirror, arrived this past July to showcase yet another talent you may not know that she held all along: songwriting. In an interview with Billboard, Yearwood recounts that discouragement during her college years largely held her back from incorporating songwriting into her career over the past three-plus decades. “It made me think I wasn’t a songwriter and I just always downplayed it,” she says.

The Mirror boasts powerful co-writes with many songwriters who’ve contributed to Yearwood’s earlier albums, including Rebecca Lynn Howard (“I Don’t Paint Myself into Corners”) and Maia Sharp (“Standing Out in a Crowd”). Of homing in on her songwriting craft, Yearwood shares, “It was really something that clicked a couple of years ago. I started writing and it was really kind of therapeutic and really evolved naturally out of something I felt like I needed to do and I’m so happy with how it came out.”

Merle Haggard

Widely recognized as one of the most legendary singer-songwriters of the country canon, Merle Haggard was a staunch believer in writing from his own experiences – of which he had many worth writing about. After losing his father at age nine, Haggard wound up in all sorts of trouble, from several stints in juvenile detention to developing a strong hitchhiking and train hopping habit. His rambunctious tendencies followed him into adulthood and eventually landed him in prison after an attempted robbery and subsequent failed jailbreak.

In 1960, Haggard’s life changed forever upon attending a Johnny Cash concert while incarcerated at San Quentin State Prison, which deeply inspired him. Upon his release later that year, Haggard set out to forge his own country career, garnering unspeakable success. From “Workin’ Man’s Blues” (co-written with Roy Edward Burris) to “The Bottle Let Me Down,” many of Haggard’s songs have become perennial classics.

Jimmy Buffett

Of all the narrative-focused songwriters, Jimmy Buffet undoubtedly took the premise of “world-building” the most literally. “Margaritaville,” the hit song which Buffett claimed took him only six minutes to write, has a transcendent legacy. From hotels to casinos to Broadway musicals, Buffett’s profoundly popular songwriting grew an empire. Of course, “Margaritaville” was certainly neither the beginning nor the end of Buffett’s extensive songwriting career; having released 30 albums (8 of which are certified gold and 9 of which are certified platinum or multi-platinum by the RIAA), Buffett was credited on upwards of 350 songs over the course of his life.

Don Gibson

Responsible for the songwriting behind some of the most famous songs in country history, Shelby, North Carolina, native Don Gibson was such a force that he, in fact, penned two of his most influential songs in the same day. “Oh Lonesome Me” and “I Can’t Stop Loving You” – which would go on to be recorded over 700 times by other artists including Ray Charles, Kitty Wells, and Loretta Lynn – were both conceived in a trailer park north of Knoxville, Tennessee, in 1957.

Bonnie Raitt

In addition to being the utter powerhouse musician that she is, Bonnie Raitt also knows her way around some lyrics. Having written most of her own music and with artists like Stevie Nicks and The Chicks covering her songs, Raitt’s songwriting has left an indelible mark on the blues, country, and Americana scenes. She’s known for her thoughtful and emotionally dynamic posture; for instance, her song “Down the Road” was inspired by a New York Times article Raitt read about a prison hospice program. Another, “Just Like That,” earned her a GRAMMY for Song of the Year and was inspired by a news segment featuring two families experiencing either end of an organ donation. Written from heartful depths, Raitt’s lyrics are both inspired and inspiring.

Cam

Best-known for her Grammy-nominated 2015 hit, “Burning House,” Cam (AKA Camaron Ochs) is one of the most prominent songwriters in the contemporary country scene. Another star and composer, in addition to her own four studio albums, Cam has writing credits featured on work from some of the largest industry giants in any genres. She has composed material for artists from Sam Smith to Miley Cyrus and 2024 saw her songwriting, backing vocals, and production lending a hand in several songs off of Beyonce’s chart-topping, culture-shifting country release, Cowboy Carter.

John Hartford

John Hartford’s talents truly knew no bounds. In addition to his multi-instrumental expertise, he was a fleet-footed clogger who could tear up a rug while he played. And he sure did know how to write a song. His most successful songwriting credit, “Gentle on My Mind,” (popularized by Glen Campbell and henceforth covered over and over again) earned him three GRAMMY awards and a listing among BMI’s Top 100 Songs of the Century. With covers from folks like Loretta Lynn, Willie Nelson, Dolly Parton, Merle Haggard, and many more, it’s safe to say Hartford was one of the most respected – and most recorded and most covered – roots songwriters of his time. And of our time, too, as evidenced by this I’m With Her performance of “Long Hot Summer Days,” a Hartford original fiddler Sara Watkins once recorded on her own solo project.

Chris Stapleton

A fav of Good Country and our audience alike, Chris Stapleton has had a tremendously successful performing career in both bluegrass (via The SteelDrivers) and country (as a solo artist). His guitar prowess and smoky vocals aren’t his only claims to fame; even before his rise to stardom, Stapleton had written songs for some of the most commercially successful names in country and beyond. He’s been the pen-power behind songs for industry giants such as Luke Bryan, Kenny Chesney, Darius Rucker, George Strait, Lee Ann Womack, and more. Adele even recognized the potency of Stapleton’s powers back in 2011, having recorded a version of his smash hit SteelDrivers song “If It Hadn’t Been for Love” on a deluxe version of her album 21.

Dolly Parton

They don’t call Dolly Parton the queen of country for nothing! Illustrious and industrious, Parton estimates that she’s composed nearly 3,000 songs in her lifetime, with somewhere around 450 of them recorded. Her ability to world-build through dynamic characters and narratives has set the modern country standard for story-songs, with “Coat of Many Colors,” “9 to 5,” and, of course, “Jolene” being just some of her most chart-topping successes. She’s also written plenty for other artists – think Merle Haggard, Kenny Rodgers, Hank Williams Jr., Waylon Jennings, Emmylou Harris, and Tina Turner, just to name a few. And of course, we’d be remiss not to mention that Parton penned the biggest hit of Whitney Houston’s career!

Darrell Scott

In 2007 Darrell Scott was named the Americana Music Association’s Songwriter of the Year, and this year, 2025, he received a Lifetime Achievement Award from the organization, too. In short, Darrell Scott is a songwriting powerhouse – in addition to his status as one of Nashville’s premiere session musicians.

Similarly to many other artists on this list, albeit with his own stylistic flares, Scott champions the narrative song, writing tunes full of dynamic characters and story arcs that mesmerize. Outside of his own successful solo work, songwriting for others is the bedrock of Scott’s career. Among countless other contributions, Scott wrote the Chicks’ “Long Time Gone” (later to be sampled in Beyoncé’s “Daddy Lessons”), Travis Tritt’s hit song, “It’s a Great Day to Be Alive,” and the ever-relevant “You’ll Never Leave Harlan Alive,” which has been covered by Patty Loveless, Brad Paisley, Chris Stapleton, Kathy Mattea, Luke Combs, and many more.


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Photo Credit: Kelly Christine Sutton

Outlaw Country That’ll Make You Smile

Holding the attention of a roomful of moderately smashed bar-goers is no small feat, let alone with a traditional Irish folksong. But last May, country singer-songwriter Dylan Earl ended his set at Brooklyn’s Skinny Dennis standing on top of the bar and singing an a cappella version of “Wild Mountain Thyme.”

“Will you go, lassie go/ And we’ll all go together/ To pull wild mountain thyme/ All around the blooming heather,” Earl implored in his warm baritone, towering above the room in worn jeans, boots, and a sleeves-cut-off T-shirt from his Arkansas-based label, Gar Hole Records. In spite of all the alcohol collectively consumed by the listeners who packed the venue to its beer-tinged walls that evening, the room was just about as quiet as a divey honky-tonk can be.

By ending his set with the kind of folk song which, passed down through generations, comprises one major lineage of country music – indeed, “Wild Mountain Thyme” is based in a much older Scottish folk song – Earl invoked a deep vernacular tradition and history often left out of modern country. Earl’s music attracts labels like “old-school” and “classic country,” and his voice certainly lends itself to those comparisons, but his own compositions convey a whole lot more. Rejecting the banality of tired Southern stereotypes, Earl writes punk-hearted, poetic music rooted in a love of people and place; music which is both socially and class-conscious and captures wide-ranging cultural unease and indignation with nuance and wit.

On his fourth studio album, Level-Headed Even Smile (released September 19), Earl makes clear that his is not a return to a bygone era so much as a carrying on of a long tradition of speaking truth to power and of imbuing dimension and worth into the lives of overlooked characters and issues too easily reduced to absolutes.

“I’d rather be an outlaw than in with the law/ All this authority worship is the strangest thing I ever saw,” he sings in “Outlaw Country,” a thesis statement of sorts for the album and Earl himself. Earl wrote “Outlaw Country” out of frustration at how many people made assumptions about his beliefs and morals because of his appearance – and because he plays country music with a whole lot of Southern twang. Earl wanted to make it clear where he stands.

“I finished high school in a very rural part of Arkansas; I identify with the Deep South, but I don’t identify with its most prevalent fucking right-wing rhetoric… I still want to remain approachable to those people I completely disagree with, because I think that’s an important part of making art, is creating discourse,” he says. “I want to try to approach these people and try to have that conversation. Be like, ‘Listen here, brother, I’m just like you, but you don’t have to be a racist piece of shit. It’s way more fun in life to be happy and be inclusive. Your soul will be happier because of that.’”

Lately, outlaw country morphed from its subversive roots into a shorthand for wicked good independent country or a slightly more specific alternative to Americana. While both wicked good and independent, Earl’s version also rekindles contempt for the establishment that fueled the original outlaw country movement:

I’d rather be a bootlegger than a bootlicker
A side stepper than a homewrecker
And I don’t get a pick me up
From putting other people down

It’s clear to see by the air I breathe
Working class solidarity
Is the only way
We’re gonna stamp that fascist out

Sardonic and irreverent, “Outlaw Country” is an anthem for anyone who ever believed in love and community over corruption and power. But rather than a callback, Earl’s music is of and for the next generation of ne’er-do-wells and dreamers living on the fringes, hoping for something better.

Earl grew up in Lake Charles, Louisiana, where he split his time between separated parents. Chafing at the craven habits of money and influence that he witnessed from his father, a powerful local lawyer, Earl preferred the warmth and love he felt in the house his mother shared with his grandmother. (Despite a rocky childhood, Earl’s now building a relationship with his dad.)

“I was living in poverty on one side and then I was living in opulence on the other side, and the poverty side is where I wanted to be, because that’s where all the love was,” Earl says. “I’m so lucky to have that, to be able to have identified where love was at a young age and identify where my soul felt good.”

Earl’s mother showed him how to seek joy and adventure, filling life with road trips and camping weekends. When he was just five years old, Earl’s mother plopped a map in his lap and taught him to navigate. Perpetually tight on money and resources and mired in an enduring custody battle with his father, she nonetheless taught him how to get away from it all, instilling in him a curiosity about the world. On the road, they stopped to check out historical markers, explored parks and rivers and the Gulf Coast, and watched giant boats come in while picnicking along the Intracoastal Waterway.

“That developed a sense of wonder and being like, ‘I don’t fucking need money to feel this type of happiness, to feel this sense of joy and adventure and love of life, just life in its purest form,” Earl says, choking up. (He firmly believes more men should cry, and that it helps him be more humane.)

“Her sense of adventure, her true passion for living, it’s amazing to me; it still is amazing to me.”

The album’s title and thematic heart – level-headed even smile – are derived from that approach to living life fully. For Earl, it’s an essential mechanism of coping and connecting. Remain engaged in the world and aware of all its horrors and tragedies, he says, but then, when it gets to be too much, know when and how to take a break:

Some nights I’m crying on the backroads
Rolling my smoke backwards
Trying to keep a level-headed even smile
Don’t you know I might take a while to get there
Just hoping I get anywhere
Trying to keep a little level-headed even smile

“At some point we’ve got to unplug from the fucking screen and just go explore things that are fucking real, like the trees around us, or the grass, or the water, or the sun or the moon, and try to get in touch with that more primal sense of ourselves,” Earl says. “That is where we can really most quickly and most efficiently achieve happiness, it’s getting in touch with the simplest form of ourselves.”

Beside the love from his mother, Earl describes himself as a depressed kid who struggled in school and wanted desperately to escape his hometown and father and stepmother. At 15, he convinced his father to send him to boarding school which, in part because of Hurricane Katrina’s devastation of Louisiana, ended up being in rural Arkansas. At the Subiaco Abbey and Academy, Earl studied with monks who’d taken a vow of poverty and offered rigorous, benevolent study, kindness, and care. Though he’s an atheist, Earl counts the monks, whom he visits regularly, as mentors, connecting with them still through shared spirituality.

“We all fucking showed up pissed off as hell. And we found love and we found love amongst each other; we found love from those monks and found nature,” Earl says, reverently, of his time at Subiaco. “It saved my fucking life. The whole thing; I found joy and happiness for the first time in my life.”

Level-Headed Even Smile is dedicated to Earl’s late friend, William, who was the first to befriend him at Subiaco. “He helped me clear my heart,” Earl says. As he sings of those halcyon days on “Two Kinds of Loner,” “We were two kinds of loner/ A misfit and a wayward son…”

Armed with the sense of wonder his mom taught him, liberated by the fallow morals of youth, and subsumed by the ready escapism afforded by their surroundings, Earl and William learned every back road. They’d steal beer from the back of William’s dad’s Crossroads Tavern and drive for hours exploring the backwoods and levees along the Arkansas River.

“William was the first to show me the country air. Hanging out with him, something about getting in that truck after class, taking off down Lile Ridge Road, cracking a beer, putting on whatever weird music he was listening to at the time, that was the first sense of fucking true freedom I ever had in my life,” Earl says.

Stopping just shy of wistful, “Two Kinds of Loner” is a bittersweet, intimate portrait of the desperately important work of becoming oneself as a teenager – and of the raw beauty in forming kinship through human connection rather than blood relation:

Down where the kudzu meets the bodark
And the darkness first let go of me
High in a cab of a buddy I had
He showed me the county air
I used to not care about nothing
Because no one seemed to care for me

After high school, Earl attended Hendrix College, a liberal arts school which lived up to its name situated in Conway, Arkansas. A few years earlier, Earl borrowed his father’s old guitar – a Yamaha FG 180 Red Tag, which he still plays today – and learned enough chords to make himself useful around a bonfire and impress the local girls. Encouraged by one of the monks at Subiaco, who noticed him straying from lesson plans, Earl started writing his own music.

When he got to college, he landed feet first in a robust DIY music scene. Together with a group of friends – including Gar Hole Records cofounder and label manager Kurt DeLashmet – Earl played a circuit of local house venues: White House, Blue House, Brick House, and occasionally Shit Mansion, where both also lived for a time. To this day, their two-day, 28-band Butt Ranger music festival thrown by friends at the White House remains one of Earl’s favorite shows.

“We were drunk off our fucking asses on plastic bottle whiskey and snorting Adderall and fucking ripping cigs and shit like that. It was fucked up. It was so awesome. It was just blood and piss everywhere,” Earl says. He recalls the floor at White House buckling so deeply that by the end of the night all his gear, including his oversized amp, wound up in a pile in the middle of the floor. Volume was of primary concern, tone and other nuances distinctly secondary. “What a fucking beautiful, carnal, amazing culture to be a part of,” he says.

Two songs on Even Smile come from those early days playing music first in college and, afterwards, in Little Rock, where Earl and his band Swampbird moved. (Earl lived in Little Rock for a few years then moved to Fayetteville, where he still lives.) Both songs are paeans to the chaotic moil of early adulthood rendered heady and hazy by too much booze and too little grounding: “Broken Parts,” which he first recorded with Swampbird, and “Little Rock Bottom,” about his time in Arkansas’ capital city.

“I don’t really quite realize it until I am talking about it, how much of my life and my story is wound up into that album,” Earl, who’s now in his mid-30s, admits. The album feels like a fitting way to process and close that chapter of life. “I do feel like I’ve left it on the table and I’ve left it all out on the field, so to speak.”

In total, Even Smile is a loving, layered depiction of both Arkansas specifically and the south in general. Among his many influences, Earl includes Arkansas gonzo poet Frank Stanford (who also attended Subiaco and whose burial there Lucinda Williams memorialized in her song, “Pineola”). Stanford’s realism and wild abandon creep into Earl’s songwriting sensibilities; they share a love of the South and its complexities and a reverence for and dedication to illuminating those stories.

Alongside a few cheeky disquisitions on life on the fringes – including road dog ode “Get In The Truck” – throughout the album Earl relishes the beauty of his home territory. Perhaps nowhere more so than on “High On The Ouachitas,” an extended soliloquy on the wild beauty of the mountain range, his chosen retreat for a reset and solace:

When I’m high on Ouachita
High as I ever saw the Arkansas
With goldenrod and reindeer lichen
Twist flowers in bloom
There’s just no place
I’d rather waste my afternoons
Than high on Ouachita

“I love it so fucking much, because I know all of the nuance and I know all the beauty that’s deep underneath all of the stereotypes. And just how fascinatingly complex our communities are,” Earl says. “It’s fucking beautiful. You have two and a half million acres of national forest. So we have the cleanest drinking water in America; we have endless amounts of outdoor recreation; the food is fucking kick ass; the people are the sweetest ever.”

Earl rounded out Level-Headed Even Smile with two very on-theme cover songs: beloved Arkansas folksinger Jimmy Driftwood’s “White River Valley,” a love letter to Arkansas’s pastoral beauty, and Utah Phillips’ peripatetic wanderer’s lament, “Rock Me to Sleep,” which concludes the album. Together they bracket the glib “Lawn Chair,” written with Cameron Duddy and Jonathan Terrell.

Earl jokes when playing the song live that it might be the worst song he’s ever written. And superficially it sounds like the kind of redneck anthem that might confirm the uneducated listener’s worst stereotypes about uncouth Arkansans: “It’s a whipass life just being me/ It don’t cost much to be the free/ I got my lawn chair/ And I’m sitting on top of the world.” Yet the song is also a sly rebuke against taking everything too seriously. Convivial in its roughness, it’s a gleeful, carefree reminder of the many ways to keep a level-headed even smile.

“If I’m feeling bogged down and feeling depressed, oftentimes it has nothing to do with the task at hand, it’s just that I’ve been absorbing how terrible the fucking world is and it makes me incapable of interacting and interfacing with my immediate world, because I’m so fucking caught up in that goddamn bullshit… and it is not allowing you to reach your full potential as a biological piece of anatomy that is somehow living on this planet,” Earl says.

“[A level-headed even smile is] an attempt to focus on your humanness and try to reattach yourself to the earth and detach from the problems of the earth; and just go out and find your smile. Go find your joy amongst all the fucking evil.”


Photo Credit: Justin Cook

Country Songs for Fall

Fall marks the beginning of “over the river and through the woods season,” whether your destination is grandma’s house, an off-season beach, a u-pick apple orchard or pumpkin patch, a spangled and harlequin forest, or an autumn music and arts festival. As you navigate the changing season and enjoy leaf-peeping, apple butter, hot cocoa, and hot dogs roasted over the fire, there’s one genre certain to accompany you through each and every picturesque context the “-ber” months give us – that’s Good Country.

Country is perfect for fall, whether you’re raising a beer, whiskey, or cider alone or among friends. From driving through tobacco country during curing season in September, to tailgating at the football stadium, to winding your way over the Smoky Mountains, to soaking in the last bit of summer sun, there’s a country song ready to soundtrack your falling back in love with cozy season.

Dripping with nostalgia, evocative text painting, a rich and deep connection to nature, and a reverence for community, folkways, and tradition, country music just may be synonymous with fall – and our playlist certainly helps make that case. We hope you enjoy listening and we wanna know: what country songs always get you in an autumnal mood? Did they make the list?


Photo Credit: Album cover,  New Harvest… First Gathering, Dolly Parton.

You Gotta Hear This: New Music From Eddie Barbash, Caitlin Canty, and More

You know what Friday means! New music, new songs, new videos – and of course, You Gotta Hear This.

Let’s begin with some Good Country from Idaho’s own Colby Acuff. His new album, Enjoy the Ride, is out today and we’re enjoying the ride ourselves with a lyric video for the title track from his excellent collection of country that’s both traditional and forward-looking born from beyond the continental divide. Singer-songwriter Kashena Sampson brings us a song from her brand new album, Ghost Of Me, that we find at the intersection of vibey Americana and contemplative indie. “Thick As Thieves” is a daydream in a song about teenage years, friendship, and holding onto – if you can – the ineffable magic of youth.

One of our longtime friends, Caitlin Canty, released her new album, Night Owl Envies the Mourning Dove, yesterday. Based in Vermont, the singer-songwriter crafts music that rests comfortably between folk, bluegrass, string band, and Americana sounds. To celebrate her new album, she’s shared a special live performance video of “Don’t Worry About Nothing,” inspired by parenthood, our frenetic day-to-day, and giving up control – and worry – whenever we can. Speaking of string band music, Damn Tall Buildings, a Brooklyn-based group playing on the fringes of bluegrass, old-time, and swing, have a brand new video for “Turkish Airlines,” a funny and all-too-relatable track they describe as portraying the haze of travel dreams, the desire to be seen, and late-night self-reflection.

And don’t miss your essential dose of bluegrass saxophone, as one of the foremost purveyors of the form, Eddie Barbash, begins a BGS mini-series sharing videos of solo performances of traditional fiddle tunes on sax. To begin, check out his rendition of “Forked Deer,” which Barbash picked up from Sierra Hull while touring with Cory Wong. If you aren’t familiar with Barbash, you may be surprised how perfect fiddle tunes can feel on saxophone. If you are already familiar, you’ll love getting to hear him offer his takes on these classic melodies. More sax-fiddle tunes are coming soon.

There’s a little something for everyone in this week’s roundup, as usual. We hope you enjoy, because You Gotta Hear This!

Colby Acuff, “Enjoy The Ride”

Artist: Colby Acuff
Hometown: Coeur d’Alene, Idaho
Song: “Enjoy The Ride”
Album: Enjoy The Ride
Release Date: October 3, 2025

In Their Words: “The title track of this project does not pull any punches. This song sets up the world where this story takes place. Like most of my songs, it takes place in the real world. In the plains of Oklahoma, the mountains of Idaho, or the heat of the desert. This record is for real people. People that we talked to on the streets and truly got a look into who they are. This song is meant to represent the people of this country for what it is. I hope people love this one as much as I do.” – Colby Acuff


Eddie Barbash, “Forked Deer”

Artist: Eddie Barbash
Hometown: Nashville, Tennessee
Song: “Forked Deer”
Album: Larkspur
Release Date: November 28, 2025 (The album will be released one song at a time with the last track coming out Nov. 28.)

In Their Words: “This performance was recorded in a dry streambed at the Larkspur Conservation natural burial ground in northern Tennessee. I learned ‘Forked Deer’ from Sierra Hull while we were on tour with Cory Wong. The harmonic lift in the B part is what makes the tune for me. Modulating to the 5 is a tried-and-true move at least as old as the Baroque. In my playing I tried to capture what I love most about bluegrass – the fast and hard-driving, yet still light and bouncy, groove and the thrilling rhythmic and melodic variations. To achieve the bluegrass backbeat, I made generous use of one of my favorite bowing techniques that I learned from Alex Hargreaves called the ‘Georgia shuffle bow.'” – Eddie Barbash

Video Credits: Shot and edited by Jeremy Stanley.


Caitlin Canty, “Don’t Worry About Nothing”

Artist: Caitlin Canty
Hometown: Danby, Vermont
Song: “Don’t Worry About Nothing”
Album: Night Owl Envies the Mourning Dove
Release Date: October 2, 2025

In Their Words: “I started writing this song to my son when his Magna-Tiles castle came crashing down in a spectacular heap. It felt like what was happening at that time to my view of the wider world. This song helps me wind down from worrying about what doesn’t matter so much and focus my powers on fighting for what does matter. It’s written from my own unshakeable mom’s point of view – I love how she sees the world and walks through it with a smile, even on the darkest days. I’m so looking forward to touring Night Owl Envies the Mourning Dove and playing this song each night with my full band! ” – Caitlin Canty

Video Credits: Filmed and edited by Brian Carroll. Mixed by Dave Sinko.


Damn Tall Buildings, “Turkish Airlines”

Artist: Damn Tall Buildings
Hometown: Brooklyn, New York
Song: “Turkish Airlines”
Album: The Universe Is Hungry
Release Date: October 8, 2025 (single); October 24, 2025 (album)

In Their Words: “We are honored to share this single from our fourth upcoming studio LP with BGS! ‘Turkish Airlines’ explores the sensation of being loved, but not being sure which version of you someone is loving. We’re always evolving and changing as humans, and this song floats through the uncertainty that can be triggered by that truth. We had a blast crafting this track to portray the haze of travel dreams, the desire to be seen through the complexity, and late-night self-reflection. Through creative experimentation in the recording and production of the track, we were able to bring a bit of studio magic to this song that we hope will become a DTB classic. Hit us up on the socials to let us know what you think!. Thanks for listening, see y’all on the road.” – Damn Tall Buildings


Kashena Sampson, “Thick As Thieves”

Artist: Kashena Sampson
Hometown: Nashville, Tennessee
Song: “Thick As Thieves”
Album: Ghost Of Me
Release Date: October 3, 2025

In Their Words: “I wrote this song for my best friend, Sulayla. It’s a daydream about our teenage years growing up in Las Vegas. It’s about those carefree days when the world felt full of endless possibilities. The song came to me after a conversation we had, realizing that adulthood isn’t quite what we imagined and wishing we could go back to those golden moments. Driving through the desert in my old Ford Explorer, listening to the Beatles and feeling like anything was possible.” – Kashena Sampson

Track Credits:
Kashena Sampson – Vocals, songwriter
Jolana Sampson – Songwriter
B.L. Reed – Guitar
Tom Myers – Drums
Jon Estes – Bass


Photo Credit: Eddie Barbash by Jeremy Stanley; Caitlin Canty by Brian Carroll.

Classic Country
Is Here to Stay

With a new generation boasting unapologetic traditional influence, there’s more classic-sounding country in the mainstream today than in many years before. With his second album, When I Write the Song, Jake Worthington captures one specific aspect of honky-tonk history better than the rest – its sense of humor.

That’s definitely not to say Worthington’s new album is a joke. Far from it. Over 14 songs, the Texas native sinks down into the depths of sorrow and lets his heart believe in miracles all the same. His love of the classic country form is just as authentic as his barrel-chested vocal twang, and with producers Jon Randall and Chuck Ainley joining his team, it gets highlighted with more sincerity than ever. But right from the opening track, Worthington walks in the footsteps of artists like Johnny Paycheck or Jerry Reed; his down-home demeanor is as country as it gets.

Meanwhile, the solo-written title track is almost alarmingly personal and Worthington welcomes Miranda Lambert, Marty Stuart, and Mae Estes as special guests on other tracks. When I Write the Song arrived on September 12 and by touring through the end of the year with both Jon Pardi and Zach Top, Worthington adds even more evidence of an ongoing trad renaissance.

Good Country spoke with Worthington about writing the way he lives and chasing honky-tonk inspiration farther than ever. Plus, he reveals a secret appreciation fans might not suspect.

For fans who don’t necessarily know, you have always been a proud purveyor of the classic country arts. I think that’s pretty fair to say. Are fans going to get more of that on this record or what?

Jake Worthington: Damn right. Yes, sir. I guess that whole narrative don’t ever really change for me. I don’t ever want to make any other kind of music. When somebody listens to a record that I am a part of or put together, I hope they can have a definitive direction to point to and say “That’s what country music sounds like.”

I think that comes across for sure. Now, it’s good timing because there’s kind of a little traditional renaissance going on in the mainstream. Do you agree with that?

Damn right. Absolutely. I’ve never been more inspired in terms of our genre than I am right now. I think a lot of people are writing and singing and recording great country music and I think that folks of all ages are wanting to hear it. Another thing, too, is I don’t think it’s a fad of any sort. I find it interesting – you hear terms like “traditional” or the whole “’90s” deal or whatever. To me, it’s just country music getting made in 2025. I think that’s really exciting, to know that’s the case. It wasn’t like that just a couple years ago.

So you don’t think it’s people cosplaying country?

I know it’s genuine for me. I can’t control what other people do, but hey, if they want to play dress up, that don’t bother me none. I think it’s good for country music. I’m glad that they’re wanting to dress like a grownup.

One thing that I’ve always loved about classic country itself, and something that you do well on this record, is to have a touch of humor. That’s not around as much anymore, but you do that well.

Well, I think it’s funny. I have always struggled with the idea that I never wanted to not be taken serious as a singer or songwriter, but I still like to have fun. I still cut up and it ain’t all rain and storms all the time. I think country music allows room for all of that. There’s definitely a couple songs on this record that is lighthearted, and I guess I was all right with that.

There’s definitely some hardcore heartbreak in here, but the reason I ask is because of the opening track, “It Ain’t the Whiskey.” There are not many songs about getting pulled over and accused of a DUI these days – even fewer that are fun.

Well, some of us write from the research department, I guess. Unfortunately, I was just trying to make light of what was a really shitty situation for me at one point in time in my life. I’ve made some dumb decisions in my adolescence, I guess. That was a good way to look back and laugh at it.

How about “Two First Names”? This one reminds me of a little bit of Joe Diffie and the way he was able to merge classic country and a funny line.

Well, shoot man, thanks. That’s just about a country girl. I’ve got a handful of women I know and love in my life that got two first names and I love that we got away with writing it without ever saying an actual name. … There wasn’t one of us that wrote that song who ain’t from the country, and we’ve all got women we love and know that got two first names. We all love a country girl.

Hell yeah. Now, one thing about this record, you definitely got to work with some big names. You got Jon Randall and Chuck Ainley helping out on production, along with Joey Moi. I wonder with those two guys specifically, Jon and Chuck, did they help you move your sound or your style forward?

Definitely I think. There’s four tracks that I recorded top to bottom with Chuck and Jon … there’s a lot of really awesome things that I got to do through working with Joey. But I think for me, I wasn’t ever totally happy with the way things were ending up sonically. That was my biggest change that I was after, was just kind of where it landed sonically.

Really?

Especially with the vocal. I’m a very imperfect singer. I’m not a perfect singer. I want that to be heard. I don’t want to be masked.

Joey’s amazing, but he definitely comes from a different world sonically, right?

Yeah, and I wanted to work with guys that were making country records that inspired me. But again, I tracked nine of them songs with Joey and man, I love all of it. Chuck wound up mixing the record and Jon come in when we went to track the last four songs and it’s been a dream come true. I get to work with my heroes, man.

You also got to work with Miranda Lambert [plus Marty Stuart and Mae Estes]. Tell me about doing “Hello Shitty Day” with Miranda, it’s a cool broken-hearted waltz. Did you guys get to know each other?

Sure. I mean, I know it sounds a little simple, but she had texted me the song and I asked if I could cut it. She said yes and I said, “Would you sing on it?” And she said, “Hell yes,” so by God, that’s what we did. I don’t know, man. I wasn’t trying to get on the radio with that song. I just thought it was brilliant. I love that song.

One thing I’ve got to ask you, since this is BGS. Do you have any ties to bluegrass, or was that ever a part of what you listened to?

Where I’m from, oddly enough down there in Southeast Texas, we had to go find that stuff. There’s nooks and crannies in East Texas where these cats kinda start out in bluegrass and I think they find it through gospel music and stuff like that. But I wasn’t in the church or nothing – I was baptized in beer and I’m here to testify, you hear me?

Ha!

The great words of Kevin Fowler. But a lot of the stuff I loved the most was coming out of Ohio. When I discovered Dave Evans, that shit knocked me out.

Really?

Oh gosh. There’s something called “99 Years [Is Almost for Life].” One day I’d like to record it, but I understand that bluegrass is just as sacred as country music, so if you’re going to do it, you got to do it right and I think it starts with putting your heart and soul in it.

But I always loved Ralph Stanley. I’ve always loved Flatt & Scruggs and Bill Monroe. I mean, that might sound a little standard, but I love that stuff. Harley Allen’s one of my favorite songwriters and his daddy, Red Allen, I love the records he done. Ronnie Bowman and Lonesome River Band. I like that stuff.

Short answer – yes, sir. Hell yes. I love bluegrass.

That’s amazing. It sounds like you’re deep into it. I mean, maybe it doesn’t show up too much in what you’re doing right now, but maybe one day you ought to do a bluegrass record.

Oh, man. We’ll see, but right now all I want to do is what sounds like country music to me. I think it’s a matter of if you got electrics on it or not. It’s just soul music. It’s gotta come from the heart.

That’s a good segue because I wanted to ask you about the title track, “When I Write the Song,” and writing that solo. You were able to share your pain quite a bit. Where did that come from?

I don’t always wind up writing by myself. I think a lot of us writers sit down and try, and if we could, we would write a lot by ourselves. But that one just kind of fell out. I’d been six, seven years in [to my career] and I don’t know, I think I was a little hurt and kind of angry. I got a whole lot of, “You can’t sing that kind of music. That ain’t never going to work.” Sad songs and waltzes and whatnot. I don’t know why it’s so easy to write about the hard things or the bad things. It seems to be easier than it is to write about the good things sometimes. That’s just kind of where I was at with it.

When I wrote it, I was headed home from some gig and at the time I had been staying at my parents’. They had just got one of them push button door locks to the house with a code on it and I did not remember the damn code. There wasn’t no way I was getting in the house, so I had a guitar and a six pack of beer, a back porch, and plenty of time.

You’re kidding.

That’s what come out of that. I sat on that song for a long time. I was kind of scared of it. I wasn’t sure if it was for anybody. I wasn’t sure if it was any good. But I’m a songwriter and I think that’s just my way of showing it.

That’s real country music to me, so thank you for sharing the story. It’s funny that you got locked out – almost feels meant to be.

I’ve been locked out of a lot of things, hoss.

You’re going to be out on the road with Zach Top and Jon Pardi, right? In their own way, they both definitely inject some classic country into the mainstream, too. Are those tours a good fit for you?

Damn right, man. You tell me anywhere else, you’re going to see three steel guitars and three fiddle players in one stage. … I’m a fan of both of them guys and they know it, and I revere and respect the hell out of them. I’m grateful to get to go work with ‘em. That’s going to be a lot of band, buddy.

All right, Jake, thanks for the time, man. Let me leave you with the big picture. Just tell me what you hope people get from this record.

Well, take away a little piece of my heart while I’m giving it to you. Country music’s here to stay and I don’t think it ever left. I’m just grateful to be a little spoke in the wheels and I hope that when they hear this record, it’s something that they can go to and say, “This is what country music sounds like.”


Photo Credit: Jim Wright

Is Adam Wright the Poet Laureate of Music Row?

Adam Wright is a songwriter’s songwriter. An artist’s songwriter. A poet whose medium is best set to music. And not just any music, but the absolute highest echelons of bluegrass and country – radio, real, outlaw, Americana, and everything in between and beside. He writes daily from an office nestled between Music Square East and Music Square West in Nashville – the fabled Music Row.

His songs have been cut by stars like Alan Jackson, Lee Ann Womack, Garth Brooks, Trisha Yearwood, Brandy Clark, and Robert Earl Keen. In bluegrass, bands like Balsam Range and Lonesome River Band have carried his originals high up the charts, and he’s co-written with many players in the genre, like Sierra Hull, for example. His songwriting and its distinct, intentional, and artistic voice has gained him award nominations from the GRAMMYs, the Americana Honors & Awards, and the IBMA Bluegrass Music Awards.

Since early February of this year, Wright has been leaving a trail of musical breadcrumbs online and on streaming platforms, teasing out his brand new album, Nature of Necessity, in four parts, which he calls “sides.” Along with singles peppering the release cycle throughout the following months, the prior three sides of the project finally convene with the fourth today, September 25, as a coalesced and cohesive project of 18 songs. The novel delivery mechanism for Nature of Necessity feels like an extension of the intentionality Wright brings to each of these literary, textural, and fantastic songs. They each stand alone, certainly, but together they sing.

These are not Music Row fodder, or craven attempts at radio hits, or tracks churned out day-in-and-day-out for volume and viral potential. These are passion projects. Ideas and stories that stuck in Wright’s creative craw and demanded much more deliberate treatments. It’s not as though songs written with the bottom line in mind can’t be this successful as works of art – they often are. It’s just that it’s immediately tangible to the listener that these works by Adam Wright aren’t just some of his best, they were clearly written and produced without a single thought towards saleability. Rather, Wright and his creative partners – especially producer Frank Liddell – gave each of these songs the artistic treatment they deserved on their own merits as stories and tableaus, vignettes and pantomimes.

If you remember when Bob Dylan was awarded the Nobel Prize in Literature in 2016, there was a whole lot of “discourse” on the internet as to the actual literary value of songs and lyrics. It’s a painfully on the nose, forest for the trees moment to even have to accept the premise of that debate in order to refute it. But with a writer like Adam Wright – ever so rare in country and roots music and becoming even more endangered still – it’s easy, direct, and demonstrable connecting the dots between literature and songwriting. Nature of Necessity being 18 compelling points on that trail. With this album, Wright should perhaps be offered a term as the poet laureate of Music Row. Let each of its four sides stand as a resumé.

I really love the sonics of the album, the production. I’m a bluegrass banjo player, so when I listen to records I want to hear the pick noise, I want to hear the room, I want to hear the distance between a singer’s lips and the microphone. I want it to sound like music and I want it to sound like a moment in time.

Granted, I listen to a lot of music that doesn’t check any of those boxes and I like it a lot for sure, but the first thing I noticed about this album was that it sounds not just live, but alive. Can you talk about that and can you talk about how you accomplished it? It feels like, having heard so much of Frank [Liddell’s] work as producer that he was probably a perfect partner to accomplish that production style, too.

Adam Wright: Yeah, he absolutely was. And we wanted the same thing. We wanted it to be live and to sound live. With all the flaws inherent in performance, like a full unedited, undoctored performance.

‘Cause I’m like you – I’m a pretty poor listener currently but I have, in my long life of listening, listened to an awful lot of music and studied a lot of it. I know when I’m listening to a song that was gridded and then a singer came in and sang very carefully and then they cut it up and got it right. Because I’ve made records like that, too.

You sound your best that way, you truly do. It is so flattering to have someone do that to you and then listen back and go, “Wow, I sound fantastic.” So what I’ve enjoyed, for some reason, [is] getting used to what I sound like, giving it my best effort on a play down all the way through, one whole take, and go, “That’s what I sound like.”

It’s like looking at yourself like in a hotel mirror. [They] are the worst mirrors in the world. Like you go in the bathroom in the hotel room and you look awful and can’t figure out why. Something about the lighting or the quality of the lighting or where they’re placed. Every time I’m in a hotel mirror, I’m just like, “What am I doing out in the world?”

It’s a little bit like that. You listen back to yourself, play this song, and you go, “Man… that is not perfect.” There are things I just really dislike about the way I sing certain things on this record, the way I played. I hear me failing the whole way through. ‘Cause we did track it live. Me and Matt Chamberlain and Glenn Worf tracked us a three-piece, me on acoustic and singing with bass and drums. The idea was just to keep all of that as it is, intact, which we did.

I told Glenn, I said, “You’re the lead instrument. No one’s coming to save us. If something has to happen, we just have to do it right now.” We recorded it with that philosophy. The meat of it is my playing and singing with Glenn and Matt and we didn’t fiddle with it. The caveat was, “Okay, we can add things, but this has to remain what it is.” Whatever we did has to be live as it happened.

We did it a bunch of times. We did every song like seven times. So if I didn’t get it, is it gonna get better? No. That’s how I sing that line, obviously. There was some freedom in that … I’ve just gotten to enjoy it.

These feel like songs for you and not songs to sell or to get cut or to pitch on Music Row. Like, they feel like songs that, as they came out of you, you may have been squirreling them away, caching them for yourself for the future. I wanted to see if that was true or if that resonated with you. To me, they’re poetic and they’re literary without being “pick me” or “try hard.” They’re really thoughtful. I love your lyricism because it’s not too esoteric. But, these traits aren’t exactly regarded as commercial. So how did this collection end up… collected?

That’s exactly how that went. And thank you for the kind words, too. I do write every day for a publisher. Usually that means co-writing. I co-write almost every day of the week. Whether I want to or not. I’m usually writing with younger artists that want a record deal or have a record deal and they have some ambitions about the commercial music industry – and for some reason they thought I could help them. [Laughs] As misguided as that is, that’s usually what our job is in that moment. I don’t think a lot about, “Hey kid, I got a hit for you.” My brain just doesn’t really work that way. I just try to write a really good song that I think is tailored towards that particular artist.

I do a lot of that, but I would never try to force one of these ideas like [that] are on this record on someone that is trying to do something like that. This is a different endeavor. I do categorize it differently. That co-writing with people for their records or for whatever they would like to do is almost like a day job. And these songs are my night job. So they are very different. It feels like a different writing brain altogether. The process of writing ’em is very different. It’s not two hours of looking at each other. Some took me weeks, just because I couldn’t unlock ’em, but I kept tinkering away. It’s a much different thing.

I want to find out the deepest realization of whatever the story was or the idea or the character that I decided the song was gonna be about. Just follow that rabbit through the woods as deep into it and as dark as it got, that’s what we were gonna do. It’s rewarding! It’s a lot of work and it takes a long time and I’m so busy at the moment. I don’t know if I could write some of those songs right now. If you told me to write a song that had a lot of Latin in it about watching the dawn, I’m not sure I could pull it off. [Laughs]

But you know how it is when you find these things. You get a hold of this little spark, you follow it, and then at some point it dims a little. Then you’re looking for another spark to light up. I’m currently between sparks – I’m writing every day, but I haven’t found a new thread that I just can’t wait to chase yet. But sometimes you get a little hint of it.

Let’s talk about some of the music. On “Dreamer and The Realist,” are you the dreamer? Are you the realist? Is it about you?

I never really decided if I contain enough pragmatism to be both a dreamer and a realist. Like in some ways I am. Like when my wife says, “Hey, we’re going to Disney World,” that’s what we’re doing. I would never decide to go to Disney World [on my own], because I don’t like fun. [Laughs] But once I know I’ve gotta go, then I can get pragmatic about it.

But aside from those types of things, I’m pie in the sky. If I could stare out a window 10 hours a day every day for the rest of my life and not starve to death, I would do it.

Thank you!

All I really want to do is walk around the world and roll around inside my own brain. That sounds fascinating to me forever, endlessly. And not because I have a fascinating brain, just because I think it’s fun to just go, “What if” and then, “What if” and then, “What if.”

I feel like this is a long way of trying to say, I feel like everyone is some combination of a dreamer and a realist. Or you couldn’t function. But certainly nobody’s all dreamer or all realist, I don’t think. I think we all compartmentalize our dreaming and our realism to certain areas of our life and hopefully we each find someone that compensates for, or augments, [ourselves] in ways. And that’s never perfect. There’s always like a dueling going on with all that stuff. But I love the push and pull of it; within myself and within a relationship. There’s music in all of that I’ll always find it very interesting. The song really is within the same person.

With “All the Texas,” which features Patty Griffin, one of the first things I thought when I heard it was of Lyle Lovett’s “That’s Right (You’re Not From Texas).” Plus, I was thinking about this moment in time with Texas and politics and the culture wars. Country music tends to feature this thinking like, “Everyone loves Texas and you should too!” “Don’t we all agree, Texas is great??” And then you look at what’s happening in Texas and you’re like, “Oh my gosh, Texas. What the hell?” I’ve had all the Texas…

Help us help you, please! Exactly.

Can you talk to me a little bit about that song? Because I have a feeling that there’s much more going on than just the way we’re all feeling about Texas these days.

It really was written before Texas got so Texas-y, recently. I don’t remember what year it was, but it was probably four or five years ago. Texas is always pretty Texas-y, but this was before it got super Texas-y. It was just about a night opening for Patty Griffin there at the Moody [Center] in Austin. It was just a whirlwind of a trip; flew in day of show, ran around Austin for half an afternoon, and then played a show.

She’s so supernatural. There’s just something like… sorcery around her. Anytime you’re around her, she doesn’t come off that way. She doesn’t walk around like talking wizard speak or anything; she’s just such a lovely, cute, normal, funny individual. But there’s still something that swirls around her that is just supernatural.

With all of that, I was like jotting things down, like the whole 24 hours that we were there. I just kept getting like little snatches of things and they all started to have this kind of mythical quality to ’em. Some of it’s literal, the Driskill and all of that stuff was true. But it turns into a sort of dream logic, mythical stuff – which is like watching [Patty] perform. It was an exercise in playing with almost like a journal entry of that experience and then distorting it with mythical language or symbolism.

I also love “Weeds” – and not just because Lee Ann [Womack] is on it. But also because I am obsessed with wildflowers, with native gardening, and habitat restoration. Something that struck me about that line, “Heaven is a meadow with no weeds” is perhaps heaven is a place where we finally understand that a “weed” is a social construct, right? A weed is a plant that we’ve decided is in a place where it shouldn’t be, but maybe we’re the ones where we shouldn’t be–

Yeah, that’s right.

Maybe we changed so much of the environment that we look out and we see a weed, but that plant has been here all along. And [the habitat is] probably supposed to be all weeds.

Exactly.

When I heard “Weeds” I also thought of Dolly’s song “Wildflowers” and the idea of, “What is the difference between a wildflower and a weed?” So, in my own mind, I heard that line as maybe you get to heaven and you realize all these weeds were wildflowers the whole time. Maybe I’m projecting. [Laughs]

I don’t know how the farmer’s perspective developed [on that song], I just don’t remember. And I’m not trying to put any sort of romanticism on it, it just didn’t come to me. I don’t remember what the jump was, but I remember why I started the song initially. I was at the library looking for something new to read and I came across this book, it was like a catalog of late-1800s farming equipment and the techniques and things. You could order out of these catalogs in like, 1870-whatever.

It also had articles about how to fix your wagon or what to do about this particular tractor part. How to deal with a stubborn mule or a pig that wouldn’t do what you wanted them to do. I thought it was fascinating, and the language of it – I love lingo so much. I love getting into some endeavor or line of work or character where there’s lots of language that I haven’t heard before. Like specialized language to a particular job or whatever. This book was full of it. I was just fascinated by all of it.

The whole thing about the last verse about the pig, all of that, it’s just outta the catalog. Those were all things [from the book]. Like, “Are you dealing with a hog who’s ill-formed? And unquiet in his mind? Here’s what you can do.” I found it all so interesting.

Then the middle verse about the tramp, to me he was dressed in soldiers’ clothes. I imagined he’d been shot and was laid over this farmer’s fence. It would have been just at the close of the Civil War era stuff. I wanted all of it to hang together, but with all of these strange things going on the overarching thing is this farmer going, “I can’t get rid of these weeds.” Why does he care? I don’t know. I just liked the guy [because] the thing that sort of kept him going was that his eternal reward might be a meadow without all of these weeds in it.

Your career has intersected with bluegrass and has been part of your career in so many ways. You’re a picker – which is one of the first things I noticed about this album, you guys tracking it live means we get to hear you pick the guitar. All these bluegrass folks have cut your songs, you’ve been nominated for an IBMA Award. What does the genre mean to you? And of course, the inseparable community that comes with it. How does that fit into the constellation of how you make music, songwrite, and be creative in general?

That’s interesting. I love the world of bluegrass. Maybe I’m just a little particular. Like, if you looked at all genres of music as slices of a pie, there’s really only a sliver that I really love. Out of any genre. Whether it be jazz or a big band or blues or bluegrass or classic country or rock, there’s really only a little bit of it that I really like and most of it, the rest of it I find I can leave alone. Not quite for me.

But I always said, good bluegrass might be the best music ever. Like, when it’s good and it’s right. I wish I had started trying to play that kind of music when I was younger. I got fascinated with it too late to physically do it at a level that I appreciate. I can distinguish the difference in the nuances of really great players, but I’m not able to do that. I don’t lose a lot of sleep over it, but I’ve probably got carpal tunnel trying to figure out Tony Rice licks a few times in my life. There’s so much of it that I really like and I love.

I’ve never really sat down to try to write bluegrass songs. I just write songs. Like you were talking about this interview going under the Good Country category, I’ve always sat somewhere in the mushy in-between of folk, singer-songwriter, bluegrass, and country. I’ve just always existed somewhere in the middle of all that stuff. Some of my favorite artists have done that, as well.

Some of my favorite bluegrass artists were folkier or bluesy-er. Del McCoury or Doc Watson. Tony Rice was such a genre evader. I always appreciated that about certain bluegrass artists. But writing-wise, I just always wrote songs. And because of the nature of what I’ve ingested, they lend themselves fairly well to more traditional bluegrass arrangements. They always play everything a lot faster than I think they’re going to. [Laughs]

Last night at the Bluebird [Cafe] I did my version of “Thunder and Lightning,” which is a moonshining song of mine that Lonesome River Band cut. I think I’m playing my version fast, like it feels fast to me. And then I hear them do it and it’s about twice as fast as I play mine. It sounds great when they do it, but if I try to play it that fast it sounds ridiculous.

I write some with Sierra Hull, she’s so much fun to write with. It’s funny, she hardly plays when we’re writing, which I had to get used to. ‘Cause the first time I wrote with her I was like, “Oh I can’t wait to just watch her play!” And I don’t even know if she touched the instrument a couple of times, just to check a chord. But I got to like her so much and enjoy writing with her that it didn’t matter. [Laughs] …

My dad was a piano player – and still is. His dad was a piano player, too. So I started on piano when I… I think I was like four. I was kinda tugging on their shirt going, “Hey, I wanna play piano!” And they’re like, “Yeah, okay. Sure.” But they did let me, I started, and I did like classical piano for years. Then I went to saxophone and then I heard a Chuck Berry record and I needed a guitar. Today. Right now. This afternoon.

I was talking to a friend of mine who is a bluegrasser, saying, “I just don’t know how you guys do it, the flatpicking. How are you doing this?” And he goes, “You remember when you were learning Rolling Stones songs on a Stratocaster when you were a teenager? Most of these guys were playing D28s with grown men at festivals then.” When they were that age, that’s what they were doing. Picking with grown men.

Who were having pissing contests with those children. [Laughs]

Yeah! Sorry kid, not today. [Laughs]


Photo Credit: Emily McMannis