Photos: AmericanaFest Pre-Grammy Salute to Lucinda Williams

Few artists are more associated with Americana music than Lucinda Williams, even as her incredible career is hard to categorize. Her Grammy wins range from Best Country Song (“Passionate Kisses”) to Best Contemporary Folk Album  (Car Wheels on a Gravel Road) to Best Female Rock Vocal Performance (“Get Right With God”). Just a few days following her 70th birthday, the Americana Music Association hosted an impressive all-star tribute concert at the fabled Troubadour club in Los Angeles on Saturday, February 4. The intimate performances underscored Williams’ versatility as a songwriter, with each of the performers putting their own personal stamp on her songs without ever losing the straightforward and often sensual lyricism that she’s known for.

Enjoy photos from the AMERICANAFEST Pre-Grammy Salute to Lucinda Williams:


All Photos: Erika Goldring, Courtesy of the Americana Music Association.

Writing for ‘The Woman King,’ Jessy Wilson Earns Her First Grammy Nod

Such words as eclectic, diverse or versatile are hardly adequate to describe the scope and mastery of singer-songwriter Jessy Wilson’s talents. Her career background ranges from singing in Off-Broadway productions and being a backup vocalist for John Legend and Alicia Keys, to receiving her first-ever Grammy nomination in late 2022 for co-writing “Keep Rising (The Woman King),” which she recorded for the closing credits of the film The Woman King.

That versatility as a performer is also reflected in the creative fire and energy that’s led to Wilson getting involved with sculpture and visual art, doing some acting, and in general displaying such a broad and wide-ranging approach that she’s sometimes encountered difficulty in an industry most comfortable with categorization.

“Well, no one knows for sure what might or might not hamper or restrict them starting out, or in terms of their career evolution,” Wilson tells the Bluegrass Situation. “I recognize that in terms of marketing, yes, there’s a tendency towards wanting artists who do fit into whatever category they feel might be commercially strongest. But for myself, what drives me as an artist is the creative process, and the thrill that I get from different songs, from different experiences, from different kinds of music. I can’t let myself worry about the whole issue of categorization, and it’s not really something that’s ever concerned me.”

Wilson grew up in Brooklyn hearing the sounds of classic soul and early hip-hop. After moving to Nashville in 2013, she became enchanted with the sounds of the South: more soul, as well as gospel, blues, and country. Wilson soon began attracting national attention while part of the duo Muddy Magnolias. A standout performance at the 2014 CMA Music Festival got widespread praise and coverage from Rolling Stone. The group was later signed by Third Generation Records and released the album Broken People in 2016, but what looked like a promising path didn’t materialize as the duo subsequently disbanded. After a period that included living in East Nashville and working in the industry via a publishing deal, Wilson’s now enjoying a breakout period as a recording artist.

A key indicator of that success is the Grammy nomination, shared with featured guest Angélique Kidjo, in the category of Best Song Written for Visual Media. Wilson wrote “Keep Rising” after the miscarriage of her son. The unreleased track found its way to the filmmakers behind The Woman King, the outstanding historical drama starring Viola Davis and directed by Gina-Prince Bythewood. “The producers had heard a demo of the song and really loved it,” Wilson explained. “Gina Prince-Bythewood personally asked me about getting the song in the film. We made some changes and additions, finished it, gave it to them, and I guess you can say the rest is history.”

In addition to the Grammy nomination, Wilson is still riding the wave of critical adulation from her 2019 LP Phase, which was recorded with and produced by ace Black Keys drummer Patrick Carney. “That experience working with Patrick is by far the best I’ve ever had in terms of songwriting, putting together a record and really putting my voice forward in the best way,” Wilson continued. “At first we just would kind of go over things and try out a couple of items, but towards the end we were working on the album every day. It was concentrated, intense and very productive. I’m really happy with how it turned out and I think it’s the best and most complete release I’ve done to date.”

Phase‘s lead single was “Love & Sophistication,” a lyrically intriguing tune that was released along with a lyric video spiced with French captions. While the simplistic way to assess it was as a straightforward love song, it was indeed a smarter work. Combining a vintage R&B track with a shimmering and expressive lead vocal, it provided a strong introduction for the overall LP.

Conceptually, much of the material leans heavily toward autobiographical reflection, though certainly Wilson demonstrates on such tunes as “Cold in the South” a fiery, defiant and blistering sensibility in discussing exactly what type of experiences a Black woman might encounter on any particular occasion or evening in that region. Still, the lyrical tone is mostly upbeat, with such numbers as “LZ Night” or “waiting on…” narrating the ongoing quest fueled by her multiple creative inspirations. There is also a sensual side to her sound, which is brilliantly displayed with the sizzling number “Oh Baby.”

Jessy Wilson’s had a number of amazing collaborative experiences, many of which she credits to her time with John Legend. “He was such an important person in my life and in my artistic development,” Wilson added. “I learned so much from watching him on stage, watching him in the studio, writing with him. He allowed me maximum freedom and gave the chance to really find my way and find my voice. He was not only a mentor but a great friend and influence.”

She directly links two other memorable stints to that period. These were writing songs with a pair of distinctly different performers: Faith Hill and Kanye West. “Both of those times it was because John Legend was kind enough to invite me into the session with him. With Faith, we bonded over our mutual love of Aretha Franklin. After the day was over she took me to her home and in her music room showed me these portraits she’d taken with Aretha. The three of us also sat around and sang Aretha tunes. With Kanye, he was remarkably creative and supportive. He didn’t focus on anything except the music. He would go around the room and ask everyone what did they think about this and that. My time spent with him was very enjoyable.”

In addition, Wilson credits working with Alicia Keys, which came shortly after her graduation from high school, as a vital ingredient in shaping her career. “I was really green when I started with Alicia,” Wilson said. “I had done some musical theater and I had once gone to Japan, but I had never really been on that kind of a world tour, been exposed to what it’s like being on a tour of that magnitude, and how a featured artist and performer handles the stage. I learned so much from my time with her.”

While the biggest upcoming date for Wilson is certainly the Grammys next month, she is eagerly looking forward to the remainder of the year. “My biggest plans are to do as many collaborations as I can this year with the people whose music has meant the most to me,” Wilson concluded. “I’ve got songs that I want to share, and I also plan to do some writing for film and television. In addition, we’re looking to move back to East Nashville this spring, so that’s another thing on the horizon. I’m really excited about this year, excited about the possibilities, and of course excited, happy and grateful about the nomination, no matter how it turns out.”


Photo Credit: Mary Caroline Russell

Janis Ian Shines on Grammy-Nominated Final Album, ‘Light at the End of the Line’

That old adage about God laughing at the plans of meager humans hit home in bittersweet fashion for Janis Ian. The legendary singer-songwriter was in the midst of an incredible victory lap: Her stunning studio album The Light at the End of the Line, released early in 2022, received critical accolades, nabbed a Grammy nomination for Best Folk Album, and ushered in a Lifetime Achievement Award from Folk Alliance International. She had begun a final tour when a spring bout of laryngitis led to a diagnosis of vocal fold scarring, a condition that would make live performances impossible and forced the cancellation of her remaining tour dates.

When Ian spoke to BGS last month, her speaking voice was clear and cheerful, even when recounting the tough break mentioned above. She had plenty of reasons for hope and happiness anyway, as she talked about the recording of and response to The Light at the End of the Line, a newly remastered CD version of her classic 1975 album Between the Lines, and other memories of her monumental career in music.

BGS: First of all, how are you feeling, with regard to your vocal cord injury?

Janis Ian: It’s a little weird. I wouldn’t have expected that I’d be forced to stop. The plan was always that I would go on and sing until May 31, 2023, and then close out with a big concert in Dublin, have all my friends join me for a documentary they’re making about me, and then do one-offs with my friends. To suddenly not be able to do any of that, I’m still in shock, but I’m getting through.

Well, if The Light at the End of the Line is your last album, you certainly went out on a high note. There is such ease about the record and a sense of grace.

I love to hear that. A sense of grace.

Did it feel that easy making it, or was there pressure knowing that it was the last album?

I didn’t think about it being the last album until I started looking at the list of songs and realized that it had been 15 years since the last one. I kept a whiteboard of songs that I thought were really good, that lived up to the mark. One day I looked at it, and I added one song and I thought, “All I’m missing is the title song now.” From there, this one probably fell into place more easily than anything I’ve ever done.

I put off writing the title song as long as I could because I didn’t want to write a farewell song. And I wanted to walk that thin line between saying thank you and being maudlin. The song was in scraps of paper all over the house. My wife kept going around the house picking them up worried that I would throw them out. The idea for the bridge was on the back of a paper plate. I wrote it down and she kept saying, “Please don’t eat off this now.” When I looked up, I had an album of first-take vocals. So that feels really good too. Given what’s happened to my voice, it’s nice to know that at that point, the first take was the final take.

I’ve read in other interviews that you normally don’t set out to write a song with a predetermined topic in mind.

Pretty rare.

But because you intended this to be your last record, were there certain topics that you wanted to hit?

I felt like it was important to step out. It was important to be brave. It was important to have a song like “Resist” on there. It was also important to be hopeful and have something like “Better Times Will Come.” I really wanted to walk the thin line between those two, between everything has got to start changing and yet it’s hopeful.

You mentioned “Resist,” and to me, the honesty and fearlessness of that song harken back to “Society’s Child.” I was looking up videos of you performing it back when it was released. In one, you’re introduced by Leonard Bernstein, who gushes over the brilliance of the song. In another, it’s on The Smothers Brothers Show and they’re joined by Jimmy Durante in introducing it! Can you wrap your head around the longevity you’ve had in the music world, from that song being released in 1966 to a Grammy nomination in 2022?

You know, I went to my throat doctor for a follow-up yesterday, and he said to me, “58 years is an incredible run. Most artists, it’s 15 years until their voice goes.” I thought about that and the line that I always heard from fans on tour was “Gosh, you sound just like you’ve always sounded.”

How much has the reaction to the album meant to you, not just from critics, the Folk Alliance, and the Grammys, but also from fans?

I have a pretty personal relationship with my fans. I learned after “Society’s Child” not to be afraid of them. Up until COVID, I stayed after every show to sign and to meet people. I always emphasized you don’t have to buy anything to say hello or to get a hug. And I really saw what songs like “At Seventeen” meant to them. It’s very moving. So, to put out something like this and have the fans rooting for me, it’s pretty great. I remember on Facebook when I did the announcement about canceling the tour, it killed me. We were all set, and there I was saying there’s not going to be a tour and there aren’t going to be makeup dates. When I announced it, I expected blowback. I expected people to be annoyed. I was shocked. I had 10,000 positive responses.

A lot of those fans have followed you through the years, with your music accompanying them in different stages of their life. Was that the thought process behind including a song like “A Light at the End of the Line,” to address yet another stage?

The interesting thing about that song and “I’m Still Standing” is that I thought those songs were for people 50 and over, people of my generation. The most feedback I’ve gotten has been from people 15 to 25 years old. The first time I sang “I’m Still Standing” was for two other songwriters aged 19 and 20. And the woman started crying. I said, “You can’t possibly relate to this.” She said, “This is the story of my life. You just told what I’ve been going through.” There’s a lot to be said, as a writer, for keeping in mind that you don’t know what you’re talking about. (laughing)

Switching gears to the reissue of Between the Lines, that album possesses such variety in terms of musical styles. It is far from a typical “singer-songwriter” record in that respect. How important was it to be able to put out a remastered version that captures those original sounds?

I got control of the record everywhere but North America. I started talking to Sony and basically said, “You’ve been using the same thing that you had out in 1983. Please let me go in and remaster. I’ll pay for it. Give me permission.” That was part of why I brought in Brooks Arthur. (Arthur passed away this past October after working on the reissue.) He was the original producer/engineer. At the time he was running Adam Sandler’s music business. Bringing in Brooks was like saying, “I’m not throwing it out. I’m not getting rid of what was there.” But I wanted to know what would have happened if Brooks had worked with this kind of equipment. And that’s what we did.

You can’t take away that it was recorded in 914 Studios (in Blauvelt, New York) that was held together with spit and glue. The best kind of studios are. They’re the least fancy. But you could take advantage of things like being able to remember mixes. It was great to be able to remaster it and feel like finally the CD was commensurate with what the album had been.

Did you feel at that time you were pushing boundaries with a radio song like “At Seventeen,” and did anyone ever try to rein that in for commercial reasons?

I think by then that I didn’t really care what anybody else thought. (laughing) There was pressure on it. I threw my then-manager out of the session because she kept saying that I was destroying a potential hit. Brooks and I had absolute faith in the song and so did every musician who played it. There was some pressure from the record company to drop the second verse and make it a three-minute song. But instead, Brooks did that brilliant little Bucky Pizzarelli guitar lick and made it a single.

Do you remember writing that opening line “I learned the truth at seventeen,” and did you immediately feel like you had something special?

Absolutely. That was one of maybe three songs in my life where I thought, “I think I’ve written a radio-friendly song.” That’s not my forte. People like Diane Warren, they do that without even thinking. It’s a real talent that I don’t happen to have. But I knew from that first line that I was onto something special. It was really scary. I didn’t want to blow it.

You plan to focus your artistic impulses on other endeavors besides music, but what happens if something pops into your head and heart and wants to be a song?

Fortunately for me, I notate. There’s still always music running in my head. That hasn’t changed. I could probably limp through a demo and make myself understood enough to send it to another artist. It’s just I can’t hold my pitch for an extended period, which means I can’t do two or three songs in a row. And my voice gets gravelly without warning. At that point, I’m Tom Waits. OK, there are worse things to be.

Is there one aspect of your career of which you’re the proudest?

That’s a good question. I think recognition from other artists. Because really, that’s the mark you try to hit. Leonard Cohen loved my work. And Leonard is the mark that you’re trying to hit if you’re me as a songwriter. Ella Fitzgerald thought I was a great singer. That’s a mark you try to hit. The people who I work with and whose records I grew up with, people like Joan Baez. Joan never goes anywhere these days but she came to my last show in Berkeley. She came backstage and said, “So you’re really doing it?” And I said, “Yep, this is the last tour.” That somebody like Joan cared enough to call me when she heard that I was having vocal problems, that’s meaningful to me.

And that’s not to denigrate the fans, because clearly they’ve meant a great deal to me and they’ve been really good to me and understanding. It’s the fans that raised all that money, $1.3 million, for the Pearl Foundation (a charity Ian founded with her wife Patricia Snyder) because I couldn’t raise all that on my own. But for me, the highlights are the fun I’ve had with other performers. Playing guitar, playing lead guitar with somebody like Tommy Emmanuel. Walking on stage with somebody like Chet Atkins and Michael Hedges. Those are amazing memories.

Thanks so much, Janis. I have to say I’ve never done an interview that encompassed both Leonard Bernstein and Adam Sandler.

That’s a good span! (laughing)


Photo Credit: Niall Fennessy

After 100 Shows, Madison Cunningham Broke Through Barrier of Stage Fright

Madison Cunningham isn’t afraid to open up. Her latest album, Revealer, finds the singer-songwriter, well, revealing glimpses into her innermost thoughts, whether she’s musing on the push-pull of big dreams and life on the road in “All I’ve Ever Known” or grappling with mistakes on acclaimed single “Hospital.”

“What’s fun about writing is when you get to the place where you can make yourself laugh, or you’re excited about what’s happening,” she says. Lately, there’s a lot to be excited about. Revealer has earned the 26-year-old California native two Grammy nominations: one under Best Roots Performance for album track “Life According to Raechel,” and one for Best Folk Album. And while she’s long been a regular presence on big stages (BGS fans may recognize her from appearances on Chris Thile’s Live from Here as early as 2017), Cunningham continues to reach new audiences with wide-spanning tour dates and late-night appearances on shows like The Late Late Show, Jimmy Kimmel Live, and The Tonight Show With Jimmy Fallon.

Even when she’s bearing vulnerable parts of herself with deeply confessional lyrics, Cunningham seems like a natural on the stage. But despite a nearly lifelong devotion to songwriting and guitar, sharing her work with the world hasn’t always come easy.

“A lot of my life I felt like, as a performer, I wasn’t fully representing myself because of my nerves,” she admits. Stage fright kept her from performing for much of her adolescence, and the confident singer we see today had to work hard to overcome her own reservations. “I am proud of the live music element to what we accomplished in the last year,” she adds. “I mean, that’s most of what I did in 2022—playing shows. My band and I put a lot of time and effort into making these songs translate to a live setting.”

After playing an even one hundred shows in 2022, Cunningham unlocked a new kind of conviction on stage—one that makes the future for this young talent all the more exciting. “I worked on things that I felt like I got better at—stage presence and engaging with an audience—and my voice sounded comfortable,” she says. “I’ve always been very hard on myself for those things, and this time I felt like I broke through some barriers.”

BGS caught up with Cunningham, our BGS Artist of the Month for January, about her musical upbringing, her broad definition of folk music, and the careful balance between believing in yourself and inviting others on your creative journey—both in the studio and on the stage.

BGS: What are your first memories with music?

Cunningham: Apparently, as a kid I really wanted to play guitar at around 4 years old. I didn’t actually start playing until I was 7 and that’s when I can remember falling in love with the guitar. My dad would teach me all the chords that he knew at the pace that I was able to keep up. And then, it grew. I started taking piano lessons but I just kept getting drawn back to guitar. Those are probably my earliest memories, my dad playing and me wanting to be able to join in with him.

How did that evolve into a career as a performer?

It took a long time because I was really shy. I had a terrible case of stage fright, starting when I was a kid. Even though there was a love for it that was brewing behind the scenes, I never pictured myself doing it in front of people. So, that took a really, really long time for me to get over. I was probably 12 when I started really singing from the stage, but there was a whole new phase when I started playing my own music; I was deathly afraid to play it in front of people. I was 17 or 18 when I started to work through that and get over it. All I really knew is I loved writing songs.

You’ve been writing songs for a long time, but you’ve also found new fans through the covers you released during the height of the pandemic. What value did you find in recording music from other artists and songwriters?

It broke down certain barriers that I had for myself as a songwriter. That’s what’s so important about keeping your mind and your heart open to music that challenges you and inspires you. It opens up new ways for you to express yourself and new ways of playing and thinking about music. That’s what those covers were for me: They were linchpin artists who taught me about what it was that I loved about music. Being able to actually step inside of those songs and play them for myself taught me more about what I loved about songwriting in general, and how I wanted my songs to live on beyond myself and the moment in which they were created.

“All I’ve Ever Known” is the first song on the album, and you’ve said it was the first one you wrote for the album. How did the production come together?

That’s the one song on the album where I played everything. But initially the concept of the record was to do that for every song. Things changed; I didn’t want to be stuck in my own echo chamber of ideas and I wanted someone else to bring their unexpected artistry to this. But for whatever reason, with that song, I kept trying to redo it and invite some of my favorite musicians on it, but it just kept pulling the song in a direction that was not how it started and not where it was supposed to end. I think things should always be able to be redirected, and I’m a huge fan of course-correcting, but it felt like the spirit of the song lived in this version that was created by me. So, I left it. I added the production elements that I felt would elevate it. I’d let it sit for a little bit. At one point, I’d added too much and had to go back and turn some things off. [Laughs] But the production of that song was really just an element of me following my curiosity and having the most fun doing it.

You’re nominated for Best Roots Performance for “Life According to Raechel.” But you’ve said that you were actually deeply afraid to record that song. Why?

I was afraid that I was going to complicate it—not be brave enough to let it be the simplistic song that it was. I had recorded a version of it at home that was very much a demo, and we were going to enhance the quality and redo it and add strings. To find the balance between sincerity and theater can be really difficult, but I felt like the song needed both. Tyler Chester, who produced that song, never let me try to get too impressive with it. He kind of slapped my hand if I wanted to add something that was too frivolous or add anything that took away or pulled against the narrative of the song. A song like that is so personal. I was afraid that I would saturate it with sappiness. It was kind of on this tightrope.

The song is about losing your grandmother. Is there anything you wish she could witness about your journey since you wrote it?

I think everybody’s biggest fear, when you think about death and when you think about leaving, is feeling like nobody’s going to care, or that people will soon forget, or that everything that you worked for in your life is a loss. I would love her to see that a story about her in a song has seemingly helped other people through their own versions of grief. I think that would’ve been an impactful thing for her to see—maybe even a bit of closure. Who knows? I don’t know where she is now. Does she even need closure in any way? I don’t know. These are all questions that none of us could ever have the real answers to. But I find it fascinating that death is such a universal reality, but still it’s this massive mystery.

Revealer is nominated for Best Folk Album, but it’s clear that your music is influenced by so much more than just one genre. What elements of folk do you feel have most influenced your music?

Folk music is at the heart of the way we view songwriting today. Folk, to me, is almost just another word for singer-songwriter. The great mothers and fathers of folk like Joni Mitchell, Bob Dylan… all of those people brought to the table some real lyrical awakening. They put so much of themselves into the songs. The veil between their emotions and their lyrics was completely translucent. The melody component in folk, too, is incredibly inspiring to me. But folk is just a small word for a very, very large genre packed with so many different ideas. And people have taken it in so many different directions. I’ve been excited about a lot of it.

You struggled with stage fright in the beginning. If you could go back and tell yourself one thing, what would it be?

Probably to not worry so much about the rules around music, or the rules that people set in place. But sometimes, I would like her to come and give me advice, because there was so much less that I was thinking about back then. So much comes into play as you get older, as you’re more aware of the way that life works. I feel like the sort of oblivion, the ignorance that I got to live in at that time was so good for art.


Photo Credit: Claire Marie Vogel

Del in December: BGS Celebrates a True Bluegrass Legend All Week Long

With a welcoming smile and an incredibly expressive tenor voice, Del McCoury has enchanted audiences since the 1960s. He’s that rare entertainer who’s both confident and humble, giving him the ability to fit in anywhere from bluegrass festivals to Bonnaroo. Every time we’ve been able to spend time with Del over the years, it’s been a privilege. In a small gesture of gratitude, we celebrate his artistic endeavors this week in a series we’re calling Del in December.

In the days ahead, look for a decade-by-decade recap of McCoury’s exceptional life and career written by North Carolina journalist David Menconi. We’ll also share one of our favorite interviews with Del about his album, Almost Proud, which just received a Grammy nomination. In addition, there’s an exclusive holiday video coming up, as well as a testimonial from Del’s inner circle who tell us what he’s really like as a boss, a father, and a friend. (No surprise: He’s a great guy!)

We’ve been fortunate to share many of Del McCoury’s most recent collaborations on BGS, including his recordings with Vince Gill, Junior Sisk, and Billy Strings. We even got an invitation to his 80th birthday party at the Grand Ole Opry. Perhaps our favorite moment, though, is this special video from The Bluegrass Situation archives of McCoury teaming up with fellow bluegrass legend Sam Bush. Stick around ’til the end and check out Del’s banjo pickin’ skills, too!


Photo Credit: Daniel Jackson

The Infamous Stringdusters’ Travis Book and Jeremy Garrett Take the Long View

Now in their 17th year, the Infamous Stringdusters have established themselves as one of the most prominent and prolific bands in modern bluegrass. Asked if he ever thought the Stringdusters would be together that long, bassist Travis Book candidly replies, “Yes. That was the plan when we started the band, not to be side guys working for someone else or to go it alone. If we needed to, any of us could be a bandleader at this point. When we started, our plan was to do this for as long as we could. Looking at each other, we all wanted this group to keep making music together for 30 or 40 years. I hope that’s not conceited or hubris to say.”

Fiddle player Jeremy Garrett adds, “I’ve been in side bands and seen the writing on the wall as to how far you can go that way, as opposed to taking the risk of taking the leap yourself. Many struggle and have difficulty with that. Every time I think about it, I’m glad we took the risk. It’s a big step to believe in yourself enough to do that, and I feel lucky that we realized that early on. We’ve all spent a long time in the trenches, building it up. Looking back, we have an awesome band and business, and we still love each other. We’re having the time of our lives out here.”

The band’s musical passion and mutual respect are evident on their new album, Toward the Fray, and indeed throughout their catalog. In April, they’ll head to Las Vegas where A Tribute to Bill Monroe is nominated for a Grammy Award in the Best Bluegrass Album category. (They won their first Grammy for their 2017 project, Laws of Gravity.) BGS caught up with the Stringdusters — our Artist of the Month for March — for a series of three conversations on the road. Here is part two with Book and Garrett, who each wrote multiple songs for Toward the Fray.

Editor’s Note: Read our BGS Artist of the Month interview with Andy Hall and Andy Falco.

BGS: So you’re up for another Grammy, and of course you’re going, right?

Travis Book: We are. When they rescheduled it to April in Las Vegas, that just so happened to be the weekend we’ll be at Wondergrass. We have Sunday off and it’s within driving distance, so we’ll bus down there. We went the first two times, too. Even though it’s a massive undertaking and not cheap, you’ve got to go. We make it a priority. It can be hard for people who aren’t intimately involved with the music industry to understand what we’re doing. You know, aunts or uncles thinking “our nephew and his little bluegrass band.” Winning a Grammy definitely helped them have a better perspective on us having some success. It especially made my dad happy. He’s a hardcore music fan, subscribes to the magazines. He’s the one who turned me onto Pearl Jam and Radiohead. He was happier about it than anybody.

Were you into alternative rock first, before bluegrass?

Book: That and classic rock — Led Zeppelin, Jethro Tull, Pink Floyd. That was the music that really got me, although I remember wearing out Red Hot Chili Peppers’ Blood Sugar Sex Magik in middle school. Getting from there to bluegrass wasn’t that complicated. I was into Grateful Dead and Phish when I ran into some guys in a garage jam band that needed a bass player. When that ended, the guitar player asked if I’d ever played bluegrass. He was from Georgia, turned me on to Yonder Mountain String Band, Old and In the Way. We started jamming on bluegrass and the harmony singing is what really got me into it.

I grew up singing hymns with my parents, and those three-part harmonies really resonated as fundamental. Singing is my jam, it’s why I got into music in the first place, and singing harmonies is what drew me in. It was not long until bluegrass was all I wanted to do, go to bluegrass and folk festivals. I’d go to the college library and print off pages and pages of traditional bluegrass lyrics. Bluegrass Album Band, I learned all that stuff. I thought it was so cool that you could go anywhere with acoustic instruments, no electricity required, and have this massive shared lexicon you could play with people.

On the new album, your song “Pearl of Carolina” is particularly good.

Book: I co-wrote that with Jon Weisberger, my neighbor in Brevard, North Carolina. The hook to that song came from me writing a script for my show, Travis Book Happy Hour, which livestreams from the Grey Eagle in Asheville. I’d say it’s Late Night meets eTown. I was trying to write an introduction: “Live from Asheville, it’s BLANK of Carolina.” I was wondering what should go there, “pearl” came to mind and then I thought, “That should be a song.” The melody and chord change came to me while I was riding my bike, and I sang that into my phone. It felt a little “country” to me and I did not have the guts to finish it. That descending chord change seemed a little down the middle. The main thing Jon helped with was making sure I didn’t dilute it and miss the opportunity to write it right. He really kept me on track. It’s a song that feels like it wrote itself.

Jeremy, you have side-hustle projects, too — a new solo record, right?

Jeremy Garrett: Yep, River Wild. Music abounds. It’s a really good time right now, music flowing out of everyone. I’m stoked to be coming out of the pandemic with great new songs and tunes to play. There’s the Stringdusters album, and my record is out March 25. We can’t stop creating, writing about things in our world. As a musician and aspiring poet, I want to put things into words and share them.

Since you’re writing material for both the group and your own thing, how do you know where a song should go?

Garrett: There’s definitely a Stringdusters flavor, to where I can usually tell if something will be a Stringdusters song right away. Not always, I do get surprised sometimes. When we do the show-and-tell song-sharing, I’ll keep one wildcard song I throw out to see what everyone thinks and sometimes that’s the one that catches their ears. A lot of times I know the spice level needed to bring to the Stringdusters pot — a certain energy that will go over good live. That’s our MO, bringing the live show in the hottest way we can.

Travis, you mentioned that “Pearl of Carolina” initially felt too country. Another of your songs here, “I’m Not Alone,” seems like it could also pass for country.

Book: I try to stay out of my own way with that stuff. I remember Paul McCartney saying about early Beatles songs, “We didn’t write them to be memorable, we wrote them that way because we had to remember ’em ourselves.” There’s something to be said for songs that stick with you and are memorable. I can come up with crazy ideas, but the stuff that keeps running around in my head days later, that’s when I know I’m onto something. The older I get, the less afraid I am about writing stuff that’s straightforward. You want to make music that’s quality and creative, complex, interesting. But it’s better if it resonates and sticks, becomes a part of lives and minds.

All three songs I wrote for this album are in that vein. “Pearl of Carolina” is a little more complicated, but “I’m Not Alone” is just that one-line chorus. The first three lines are the same melody, the third line I reharmonize; change the chord structure, then the last line the lead drops down to something very similar to the baritone part from the first two lines. It’s such a simple idea, but it still knocks me on my ass when I listen. It makes the chorus pop right out. The old me might have thought it was too sappy or not complicated enough. I feel fortunate to have grown up enough to get past that. It seems so simple, but essential, like a mantra.

Beyond who plays what instrument, how would you summarize each person’s role in the Stringdusters?

Garrett: I think we are that rare democracy among bands. Everyone has their individual talents, things they’re better suited for. But I think we’re all into the big picture. That’s something we often discuss all together, vibing on the same wavelength about the band’s trajectory, how to create records and unify messages with five different guys. There are issues where we disagree, but we almost never have to vote on it. We just talk it out and eventually come around to being of the same mind about it almost all the time. We’re lucky that way. Panda (banjo player Chris Pandolfi) is very technically minded, handles a lot of the business, and Travis is a great booking agent, keeps an eye on the schedule because he knows how to make that flow. We hope to all bring something to the table. It’s always been that way.

Book: Everyone can kind of choose their level of engagement. We’re all allowed to integrate and contribute however we want. Business, music, interpersonal stuff all continues to move along and different people are engaged with different parts at different levels. But every year, we grow more alike. Every tour, we’re more on the same page. Ten years ago, there were a lot more differences of opinion than there are now. To me, the decision-making on goal-setting, recording, the way to approach shows and everybody’s role musically is all so much easier now than a decade ago.

Garrett: Even a decade ago, it was already better than most bands. We’ve always been lucky for sure.

Book: A major priority is keeping everyone involved and equal and on the same page to make sure everyone gets what they need out of this. Everyone has an equal say and there’s no bandleader. That can make it challenging to be a fan. So much is going on and everybody gets a chance to lead. If you just want to be fed the same singer doing the same type of songs all night, we’re maybe not the band for you. It’s highly dynamic. Any given song or even moment, a different guy can be the leader. That’s part of what keeps us interesting as a band — everybody getting a chance to take the reins, get support and then on to the next thing. We’re Jeremy’s backing band during his solo, then mine when I’m singing the hook. Moment to moment, everyone is fully supported.


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Photo Credit: Jay Strausser Visuals

Yola Chooses to Stand For Herself, But She’s Always Looking for Big Ol’ Softies

Speaking to Yola over Zoom is way more fun than a video call has any right to be. From the time she dials in from the UK, she’s ready to chat. Good thing, because there’s a lot to talk about. About a week earlier, she picked up two Grammy nominations in the American Roots Music category of Best American Roots Song (“Diamond Studded Shoes”) and Best Americana Album (Stand For Myself), and she’s clearly still exhilarated by it.

“It’s very hard for it to even land because it feels really super surreal,” she says. “I don’t know how else to describe it. I’m endlessly grateful to the work that everyone puts in to get me to this point, and honestly, the faith that people have to let me lead at all. I wasn’t always in positions like that, ones that would let me lead.”

She’s speaking of a different kind of leadership style than, say, former British Prime Minister Theresa May, whose sparkly footwear worn during a speech about childhood poverty led to the idea of writing “Diamond Studded Shoes.” Although it does have a feel-good groove, you can’t miss its message of inequality. “And that’s why we gots to fight,” she sings.

To create Stand for Myself, her second album on Nashville-based label Easy Eye Sound, Yola reunited with producer-songwriter Dan Auerbach, and she also pulled in a roster of friends like Brandi Carlile (who sings on “Be My Friend”) and songwriters such as Natalie Hemby (who co-wrote five of the 12 songs) and Aaron Lee Tasjan (a co-writer on “Diamond Studded Shoes”). Still, the defining voice of Stand for Myself is, of course, Yola herself.

BGS: When I was listening to this record again, I was thinking that it does seem like a roots record in the sense that it traces your path from the beginning of your story. And as the album progress, here’s the blossoming at the end. Is that fair to say?

You nailed it. You got it. You felt it. You felt the emotions! It is. I was a bit of a doormat at the beginning and minimizing myself. Joy Oladokun and I were talking about when you grow up as a token Black person in an environment that there aren’t a lot of Black people in, and you’re trying to play guitar and trying to fit in, and you’re not fitting into a trope. … So, we’re in this minimizing, trying-to-fit-in phase. Trying to fit into Eurocentric life as non-Eurocentric people. That’s where we start the album, and then “Dancing Away in Tears” is a bit like a growing out of a relationship, romantically, but obviously it can be socially as well. When I’m singing it, it’s kind of both. It’s like growing out of an environment and just needing to be in another space.

And as you go through the record, “Diamond Studded Shoes” is about the idea of how the macro affects you. You might grow out of a microcosm, but the macro is going to affect how you interact. … Because I’m moving through that, I’m realizing the environment that I’m in and I’m realizing what I want from it, which is essentially connection. I think that’s why by the time we get to “Be My Friend,” you start to realize that I want to connect to people who want to connect to people! (laughs) That’s really what it is! And then I finally do, and as a result, I blossom. As I think humans do. Humans *like* humans, and when they feel seen, they blossom.

That’s really this record. It’s feeling seen, feeling loved, feeling allowed to grow and to do things without someone being like, “Oh, you didn’t serve me. Therefore I’m going to sabotage your existence,” which has been a lot of my life. Or people saying, “Oh, you outgrew me and I don’t like that, so I’m going to sabotage your existence.” It never seems to end, that idea. Or to sabotage people that are trying to help you get somewhere, so it’s not just you. It’s your friend or your squad or whatever. I’m dealing with that. I think “Whatever You Want” is about that, what I like to affectionately call the “bro”-tocracy, a top-down “bro”-tocratic system! (laughs)

This record is called Stand for Myself and not Stand BY Myself. You have surrounded yourself with important people here.

Yes! Just loving people. Big ol’ heart people! Softies! They might be badasses. Brandi and Natalie are some of my besties. Absolute softies of the highest order! That’s really what I’m looking for. I meet all sorts of people, and the people that will stick around in my life, that I will never outgrow, will be those big ol’ softies. Soft badasses! That’s my type!

When you are putting a band together, what qualities are you looking for?

Exactly the same qualities. A badass giant softie who can survive a five-hour brunch with me … and want more! (laughs) For real! Megan [Coleman], the drummer, is one of my best friends of all time. We’re doing Christmas together. She came around for a distance-hang in my yard during lockdown and we were like, “Oh, it’s so hot and disgusting!” We would be spraying water and fanning ourselves and trying to drink gin and tonic, just hanging out! We can spend hours — hours! — talking crap.

You’ve got to live with these people! Literally live in a box with these people. They’ve got to be your favorite people and they better be really amazing at doing their job, because you don’t want to micromanage them the whole time. No one wants to do that, but you want them to be excellent — excellent people, excellent at their job. So, that’s my type. That’s always the type of people I write with. Everything. When I can’t find that, I just wait. I’m patient until I can find that.

Let’s talk about patience. That seems to be a theme in your life. Can you talk about how patience has factored into your story?

Patience has factored into it. I wasn’t really aware of the time it was taking because I could always see the incremental steps, so I think that’s what makes it tolerable. If you were 19 and someone said, “Hey, it’s going to take this long,” you would say, “WHAT THE FREAK?!” It would be horrific! But you don’t know, and you only see every little step.

For example, from a young age, I was touring with DJ producers. We were opening for James Brown in Australia on this tour that this millionaire (now billionaire) guy would put on, just for his own personal entertainment. It was ridiculous money. … It felt like I was on my way because we were doing 20,000-plus natural amphitheater shows in Melbourne, Brisbane, Sydney, Perth … I felt like I was in it. I was in a band called Bugs in the Attic. They were signed and doing some things. But then it just took so much more time, and I got nodules and lost my voice. I had to quit all my jobs. My body wasn’t happy. I was internalizing all of this dissatisfaction instead of expressing it or dealing with it — or knowing how to deal with it or knowing anyone that would let me speak adjacently about what was on my mind.

I allowed people to clip my wings a little bit because I was of some use to other people. I had useful skill sets, so if I was in service, I was often making people a lot of money. And not myself! But other people. *Loads of money.* And loads of acts did good off the back of me. That was something that started becoming too evident. (laughs) I was like, I can’t have this! You know what? I’m going to have to be the master of my own identity.

You’ve been wanting to do this since you were 4 years old, right?

For real. One hundred percent, yeah, I have. I knew it. What I am doing right now is what my 4-year-old self said I should do. But I kept on getting talked out of doing what my 4-year-old self said, because I couldn’t possibly know at that age, right? Only I totally did! And they were like, “Maybe you should be a backing singer.” I don’t wanna do that. Or “Maybe you should be in a band.” Well, I’ll try it, but I don’t know if I wanna do that either. Or “Maybe you should just write for other people.” That sounds like fun, but I feel like I’ve got something to do myself. Or “Maybe you shouldn’t do it at all.” There were so many different options other than maybe just support you in being the artist. It’s a bit of a way around the houses, you know, but my 4-year-old self was dead-on. I should have just listened to her!

On your first record, Walk Through Fire, you’re pictured on the cover playing your guitar. Has that always been part of your dream, to be an instrumentalist as well as a singer and songwriter?

Oh, I’ve only picked up a guitar comparatively recently to most of my friends. I picked it up in 2014. I was a topliner before that – lyrics and melody, which is much of the song still. But I was very codependent. I was always reacting to people’s chords. It was harder for me to get something out on my own. People around me seemed very hellbent on making sure I couldn’t get things out on my own because if I wasn’t codependent, then all of a sudden they don’t have this topliner who can do all of the stuff. They’d tell me, “You don’t need to pick up the guitar. Don’t worry about it.” It’s really hard to play C, D, and G. I wouldn’t even look into it! (laughs) “I don’t think you have the inclination to play the guitar.” That’s what someone said to me. “It’s going to require a staying power that I don’t think you have, so you know, try something else. Everybody’s got things they’re good at. You’re good at loads of stuff. Just not that.”

Before you even tried it, people told you that you weren’t good at it?

Yeah! But when you’re in your early 20s, you don’t realize how much you don’t know. You think you’re real smart, and you’re officially an adult, and you managed to not die. You’ve put yourself in some sketchy situations and not died! There is something to that. We weren’t activists trying to save the planet. We were drunk! So, yeah, you’re naïve and you’re trusting, I suppose. But the 20s are for that. That’s where you make all of your mistakes. That’s what the whole decade is for: “Whoops! Oh no!” Then you get to 29 and you realize it’s not sustainable. And you have what I like to affectionately term “The 29 Panic.” (laughs) You purge a lot of weirdos and try to get it together.

You’re going into 2022 with these Grammy nominations and you’re going to be in a movie next year, too. And you have more things in store, I’m sure. What are you enjoying the most about this time of your career?

I felt like over the first cycle, we were all learning how to do what we’re now doing. I like to convert people. I converted people on my team from adjacent trades that I knew would equip them exclusively for what I needed them to do. (laughs) So, I’ve got this absolute team of badasses and we’re able to go into situations that look impossible and nail it. We convert situations that are way outside of our price tag. Way outside of all sorts of things! It’s exciting to know that you can handle something and actually have a plan. It may be somewhat ridiculous, and we don’t know how we’re going to do it, and we definitely can’t afford it, but we’re going to get it over the line, you know? It’s that fight!


Photo Credit: Joseph Ross Smith

Grammy Nominations 2022: See the American Roots Music Nominees

The Grammy Awards have revealed their nominees, and the American Roots Music ballot is especially diverse this year. Take a look at nominations for the 2022 show, which will air January 31 from Los Angeles on CBS. (See the full list.)

Best American Roots Performance

Jon Batiste – “Cry”
Billy Strings – “Love and Regret”
The Blind Boys of Alabama and Béla Fleck – “I Wish I Knew How It Would Feel to be Free”
Brandy Clark Featuring Brandi Carlile – “Same Devil”
Allison Russell – “Nightflyer”

Best American Roots Song

Rhiannon Giddens, Francesco Turrisi – “Avalon”
Valerie June Featuring Carla Thomas – “Call Me a Fool”
Jon Batiste – “Cry”
Yola – “Diamond Studded Shoes”
Allison Russell – Nightflyer

Best Americana Album

Jackson Browne – Downhill From Everywhere
John Hiatt with the Jerry Douglas Band – Leftover Feelings
Los Lobos – Native Sons
Allison Russell – Outside Child
Yola – Stand for Myself

Best Bluegrass Album

Billy Strings – Renewal
Béla Fleck – My Bluegrass Heart
The Infamous Stringdusters – A Tribute to Bill Monroe
Sturgill Simpson – Cuttin’ Grass Vol. 1 (Butcher Shoppe Sessions)
Rhonda Vincent – Music Is What I See

Best Traditional Blues Album

Elvin Bishop and Charlie Musselwhite – 100 Years of Blues
Blues Traveler – Traveler’s Blues
Cedric Burnside – I Be Trying
Guy Davis – Be Ready When I Call You
Kim Wilson – Take Me Back

Best Contemporary Blues Album

The Black Keys Featuring Eric Deaton and Kenny Brown – Delta Kream
Joe Bonamassa – Royal Tea
Shemekia Copeland – Uncivil War
Steve Cropper – Fire It Up
Christone “Kingfish” Ingram – 662

Best Folk Album

Mary Chapin Carpenter – One Night Lonely (Live)
Tyler Childers – Long Violent History
Madison Cunningham – Wednesday (Extended Edition)
Rhiannon Giddens with Francesco Turrisi – They’re Calling Me Home
Sarah Jarosz – Blue Heron Suite

Best Regional Roots Music Album

Sean Ardoin and Kreole Rock and Soul – Live in New Orleans!
Big Chief Monk Boudreaux – Bloodstains and Teardrops
Cha Wa – My People
Corey Ledet Zydaco – Corey Ledet Zydaco
Kalani Pe’a – Kau Ka Pe’a


Photo of Allison Russell: Marc Baptiste
Photo of Tyler Childers: David McClister
Photo of Rhiannon Giddens and Francesco Turrisi: Karen Cox

Asleep at the Wheel Turns 50, But Ray Benson Didn’t Know If It Would Last

The term eclectic hardly seems broad enough to accurately describe either the approach of the marvelous band Asleep at the Wheel, or the energetic and fluid style of its lead vocalist and guitarist Ray Benson. The band he formed along with Lucky Oceans and Leroy Preston while farm-sitting in Paw Paw, West Virginia, 50 years ago is now an American cultural institution, although things didn’t really explode for them until they relocated to Austin.

Their latest release, Half a Hundred Years, pays homage to Asleep at the Wheel’s diverse and impressive legacy, although it’s one Benson freely admits he never seriously thought would continue for 50 years.

“Well, when you’re a 19-year-old kid, you don’t even know if the band will be around for 10 years,” he tells BGS with a laugh. “It really wasn’t something at the time that I had any notions about, things about legacy or impact. We were a band that wanted to play a lot of different types of music and enjoyed being around each other. That’s kind of been the trademark ever since.”

Country and Western swing are the foundational genres of their music, but the ensemble is hardly restricted or limited by them. Over their tenure Asleep at the Wheel’s repertoire has also included R&B, blues, jazz, rock and pop, while their albums and live shows feature a constantly evolving blend of originals and inspired covers. In addition, the band seamlessly maintained its trademark sound through numerous personnel changes, while navigating shifts in audience tastes and music industry practices.

“I’ve always been a real music lover, and that’s what’s driven the band all these years,” Benson continues. “Of course, the music business today is so different from the way it was when we started out. Hell, when we started they didn’t even have fax machines. You really thought in terms of radio and marketing a song, and you were trying to get your album played and then that would be the springboard for having it sold in the stores. Today, there’s such a focus on streaming. Vinyl’s made a bit of a comeback, but that’s because CDs are doing so poorly. Then the technology changed so dramatically, with the ability to sonically do things in the studio that we didn’t even dream about back in the ’70s.”

Indeed, Benson’s entire career — inside and outside the band — has been one of variety and experimentation. He taught himself to play the guitar as a 9-year-old. The first song he ever played completely came from a beer commercial he heard during broadcasts of his hometown Philadelphia Phillies. Benson teamed with his sister in a folk group The Four G’s at 11, then while in college he encountered a group whose concept he utilized (with variations) upon forming Asleep at the Wheel. It was that Commander Cody & His Lost Planet Airmen concert in Washington, D.C., where Benson saw and heard a band brilliantly mixing multiple genres in a free-flowing performance mode.

Following their time in West Virginia, Asleep at the Wheel relocated out west in the early ‘70s, playing in various East Bay clubs in California. A show where they shared the stage with Van Morrison, followed by his raving about them in Rolling Stone, began to open some doors. They toured with Black country vocalist Stoney Edwards in 1971, cut a debut LP that did well in the Southwest, then moved to Austin in 1973 after being encouraged by Doug Sahm and Willie Nelson. Upon their arrival in Texas, their second LP was issued by Epic.

However it was after their third LP, with the Top 10 country hit “The Letter That Johnny Walker Read,” that Asleep at the Wheel emerged as a top attraction. By 1978 they were winning the first of their 10 Grammys. They survived a lean period in the ’80s, then bounced back in the ’90s. Benson made another savvy decision that helped sustain the band’s success, recruiting several top country artists to cut two Bob Wills tribute LPs. Then came another hit in 2000, “Roly Poly,” with the [Dixie] Chicks. As a result, Asleep at the Wheel became one of the few country acts that’s managed to have chart records across four consecutive decades.

Their journey is duly reflected in Half a Hundred Years. “I looked at this album as a way to kind of look back and ahead at the same time,” Benson continues. “It covers everything that we’ve done and are doing.” Besides including such heavyweight guest stars as Lyle Lovett, George Strait, Lee Ann Womack, Willie Nelson and Emmylou Harris, the CD is sequenced in an intriguing fashion. The first 11 songs are new tracks featuring original band members. Songs 12-16 (with the exception of 14) feature the current band teaming with various band alumni. Cuts 17-19 are previously unreleased material, while track 14 combines the current band with two of Asleep at the Wheel’s former female singers. “We’re putting this out pretty much every way (configuration) that you can,” Benson adds.

Despite the pandemic, Asleep at the Wheel’s already done several shows and plans more in the near future. Benson has also branched out over the years to do things outside the band arena, among them being on the board of Austin City Limits, a role that led to his hosting the regional TV series Texas Music Scene for several years. He’s also been a prolific producer on LPs by Dale Watson, Suzy Bogguss, Aaron Watson, James Hand and Carolyn Wonderland, plus singles for Willie Nelson, Aaron Neville, Brad Paisley, Pam Tillis, Trace Adkins, Merle Haggard, and Vince Gill. Benson even cut a solo LP, Beyond Time, in 2003 and his autobiography Comin’ Right at Ya was published in 2015. In addition, he’s a founding member of the Rhythm & Blues Foundation, and the owner of a recording studio and label (Bismeaux Studios/Bismeaux Records).

Though it doesn’t seem possible that there are things in the music world Benson hasn’t done yet, he’s quick to list a few people he’d love to work with. “Well, I always wanted to record with Tony Bennett, but he’s retired now,” Benson says. “I’ve sung with Boz Scaggs, but have never done a whole album with him. I’d really enjoy doing that. Also, Billy Gibbons of ZZ Top. He’s someone else I’ve sung with, but really would like to do a complete project.”

He concludes, “At this point I really don’t even think about how much longer Asleep at the Wheel will go on because who would ever have given us 50 years? But I can say that I’m still really enjoying it, and this latest project and going out and playing to support it, and the reaction of the people even with everything that’s going on now… well, that tells me we’ve still got a lot of folks out there who enjoy what we do.”


Photo credit: Mike Shore

From Death Metal to a Fishing Boat, How Billy Strings Finds Renewal (Part 2 of 2)

Billy Strings has had his foot on the gas since he was a teenager, bringing his prolific picking to hundreds of shows around the country each year and winning over a throng of devoted fans in the process. His bluegrass bona fides may be obvious from the outset — he’s quick to cite such greats as Bill Monroe, Doc Watson, and the Stanley Brothers as some of his first musical influences, and no honest spectator could deny his talent on the guitar and mandolin — but astute listeners will also note elements of rock, jam bands, and even heavy metal in his performances, especially as Strings bounds around the stage.

The Nashville-based, Michigan-raised musician’s latest album, Renewal, comes on the heels of an exceptional year: His Rounder Records debut, Home, won the 2020 Grammy award for Best Bluegrass Album. And even as much of the music industry was grounded from touring, his innovative approach to livestreams and digital performances moved the Pollstar Awards to dub him the Breakthrough Artist of the Pandemic. But that breakthrough was more than a decade in the making, and the forces that shaped Strings as a prodigious young picker are still at work today, pushing him creatively in the studio and on stage as well as calming him at home between gigs. Here, in the second half of our BGS Artist of the Month interview, Strings tells us about his upbringing, his latest influences, and the way he unwinds between shows.

Editor’s Note: Read the first part of our interview with Billy Strings.

BGS: Tell me about where you grew up. How do you see its impact on your work today?

Billy Strings: I was born in Lansing, Michigan on October 3, which is my grandpa’s birthday. My mother, who lived in Kentucky at the time, had gone up to Lansing to visit her dad on his birthday, and that’s when I decided to show up. [Laughs] So that’s why I was named Billy as well, because that was my grandpa’s name — I was his little birthday gift.

We lived in Morehead, Kentucky, for a couple of years before coming back home to Michigan, where I really grew up. I grew up in a little town called Muir, population 600. My dad is an incredible guitar player, so he taught me how to play. He was always showing me music when I was a little kid: Doc Watson, Bill Monroe, Lester Flatt, Earl Scruggs, Jimmy Martin, Larry Sparks, and stuff like that — a lot of good bluegrass. We’d hang out at this little campground and play music next to the river by the fire. That was my childhood, man, just sitting there picking by the river.

It was real good until I got to be a teenager and started to turn sour. I had to run off and figure out a new life. I took what my dad taught me when I was a little kid, and all of a sudden I realized that bluegrass is actually pretty sweet and people love this shit — that maybe I could do something with this; that it’s not just something that I do with my dad that I should be halfway embarrassed about.

Who are the artists that you feel really inspired by right now? And are those different than the ones that you feel like you were listening to a lot when you were a kid?

For the most part, it’s still Doc Watson — he’s the main nerve — and Bill Monroe, and Lester Flatt and Earl Scruggs, Ralph Stanley and Carter Stanley, the Stanley Brothers. But I listen to a lot of different shit. I listen to death metal, and lately, I’ve been getting into this music from Mali that Béla Fleck was showing me — some really amazing stuff. And Memphis trap: I’ve been listening to Young Dolph a bunch. There’s just an energy to it. I grew up around crack houses. I’ve seen that shit that they’re rapping about. It just gets me hyped: He’s talking about coming out of nothing and becoming a self-made millionaire. I listen to it before the shows sometimes to get myself hyped up.

You played in rock bands in high school — groups with music that might not sound a lot like what you’re doing today. Is there any lesson or anything from that time that you feel like you still turn to or still apply to the music that you make?

Yeah, performing live. I never learned how to perform in a bluegrass band. I learned how to perform in a metal band. I learned music by playing bluegrass when I was a little kid, but by the time I was doing it on stage it was in a metal band — we were headbanging and running all over the place — and I still can’t help but get into the music like that. I can’t just stand there and play.

You have been in Nashville now for a little while. Has anything that has surprised you about it, good or bad?

I really love Nashville. A lot of your favorite musicians, that’s where they live. You’ll see your favorite singer in the grocery store. I get calls for sessions, and it’s from people who I grew up listening to and who I’ve idolized for my whole life. Like Béla Fleck’s record just came out, and I played a handful of songs on that. I was so honored to play with David Grisman, and Chris Thile, Sam Bush, Stuart Duncan, and Edgar Meyer — all these cats that are just… well, I don’t feel like I’m really in that league. It really was an honor. And there’ve been several things like that! I went from listening to these cats on a record to being on a first-name basis with them… texting and being friends. It’s a trip.

What’s one thing that’s brought you joy recently?

Fishing. I love bass fishing. I grew up doing that with my dad as well, but I didn’t do it for a long time because I was so busy. When the pandemic hit, I started fishing again. I go out there in rain or shine. I just like it for the solitude. Last night, I was in front of thousands of people, and to come home and go out on my boat and be alone in nature — to check out the blue herons and the fucking ospreys, eagles, fish, everything doing its thing — it’s brought me a lot of joy, brought me down to Earth. I put my boat in at 5 o’clock in the morning when the sun is just coming up. I like being out there alone at that time of day. It’s just good for my mind.

And yet it’s so clear from your performances that interacting with listeners gives you a certain joy, too. What are the forms of feedback that you value most from your audience when you’re playing live?

Sometimes when we finish a solo, everybody starts cheering real loud, the whole place gets real loud. That feels good. But sometimes I look out there and I look around and I see individual people and I literally play to them. Last night, we played in Montana and I was looking around and there was this one dude just standing there with his beer just completely still. I didn’t even know if he was enjoying it or not. So I just walked up to the front of the stage and stared directly at him and I just started playing right to him. [Laughs] So he started laughing, and then he took a drink of his beer and started bobbing his head a little bit. I think he just started getting into it by the end of the show.

I’ll look for things like that. The audience is really in control of how I’m feeling up there. Sometimes, when they’re just on fire, I can’t help but have a good time. They feed us the energy, and we give it back to them. It’s reciprocal.


Photo credit: Jesse Faatz