The Essential 1977 LP Tony Rice Gets a Reissue

The first time I ever heard Tony Rice play and really heard it, I was a teenager. I was listening to one of the few regular broadcast outlets for bluegrass music in the Tri-Cities region of Upper East Tennessee and Southwest Virginia that I was aware of at that time, WQUT-FM’s “Bluegrass Hour,” sometime in the late ’70s. I believe the song was “Way Downtown.” I hadn’t heard Doc Watson’s version, and all I could think was, “Who the HELL is this?” Literally.

A relative newcomer to the music, I recognized that voice as the same one I’d heard on some tunes from J.D. Crowe & the New South, the eponymous masterpiece that had come out in 1975. But the guitar seemed so different than any I’d ever heard; I could feel that and I wasn’t even a guitar player yet. The leads seemed to flow like silk and the tone was so large and woody. As a banjo player at the time, it made such an impression that I didn’t even pay much attention to the banjo break by my favorite player – Crowe.

Turns out, it was “Way Downtown” from Tony Rice, which was originally released in June 1977. ROU 0085 is an album that I, along with so many bluegrass fans, came to know and love. At the time I didn’t know that it was Tony’s first solo record for Rounder, the company with which he would spend virtually the rest of his recording career. Or that it was the first LP since he had left J.D. Crowe’s New South. He had recorded two solo records while in Crowe’s band: Guitar (Red Clay 103, King Bluegrass 529, Rebel 1582 – 1974) and California Autumn (Rebel 1549 – 1975). Now, nearly 50 years later, Craft Recordings has remastered 0085 and it will be available once again in a fresh pressing and as high-res digital audio on June 5, sounding better than ever.

Tony left the New South, one of the greatest bluegrass bands ever assembled, in 1975 to play music with mandolinist David Grisman, who soon put together a supergroup of his own in the San Francisco Bay Area that didn’t exactly play bluegrass or jazz, but something in the middle – something new. Tony had met Grisman while recording Bill Keith’s Something Auld, Something Newgrass, Something Borrowed, Something Bluegrass (Rounder 0084 – 1976).

In an interview my Still Inside co-writer Caroline Wright did with Tony in 2003, he recalled the Keith project as an “…amazing recording, I think. Stuff where Keith somehow was able to pull more out of me than I thought I had in me.”

At the same time, the musicians gathered for Keith’s record ended up recording Tony Trischka’s Banjoland (Rounder 0087 – 1977). During the session, Grisman played Rice a recording of the music he was making with the Great American Music Band featuring Richard Greene, John Carlini, Taj Mahal, Joe Carroll, and others. To say Rice was moved is an understatement: “…This music that I heard Grisman play on that tape machine, it instantly started flowing through the veins. I’d never heard a sound like that. I was in heaven.”

After moving to the Bay Area and staying in Grisman’s basement for a few months, he played on David’s first Rounder release in 1976, The David Grisman Rounder Album (Rounder 0069). Tony would also become a huge piece of the DGQ’s groundbreaking first recording, The David Grisman Quintet (Kaleidoscope F5; Pastels 2016; Rhino 71468), released the same year as Tony Rice. The bluegrass feel he added to “Dawg music” gave it much of its distinctive sound.

When he started recording Tony Rice in July 1976, it had only been three years since the great Clarence White, Tony’s mentor and hero, had been killed in a tragic accident in California. White’s influence is strong on the record, although Rice was blazing his own path by then. 0085 was the first Tony Rice record to feature “the Antique,” his 1935 Martin D-28 Herringbone serial number 58957, which had once belonged to Clarence. The distinctive power and tone of this instrument became a signature part of Tony’s sound from this point forward.

In his liner notes for the record (one of two sets of liners, the other by Philip Elwood of the San Francisco Examiner, who noted the power of “urgency” in both Tony’s guitar playing and singing), Jack Tottle called Rice “…quite probably the most important living bluegrass guitarist.”

It was hard to argue with that. But Rounder 0085 served to keep Tony – an emerging superstar even then – in front of the bluegrass audience at a time when he seemed to disappear from it back East. Ralph Stanley & the Clinch Mountain Boys lead guitarist, the late James Alan Shelton, said, “Because at that time now, nobody had seen Tony. He was like Santa Claus. He was somebody you hear about, but he didn’t make many appearances!”

Such was the mystery engendered by records like Tony Rice, as well as Manzanita (1979), Skaggs & Rice (1980), The Bluegrass Album (1981), Vol. 2 (1982), Vol. 3 (1983), Church Street Blues (1983) and Cold on the Shoulder (1984), that when Tony finally came back east and played live in front of a bluegrass audience at Denton, North Carolina, in 1984, he got a standing ovation for his soundcheck.

The musicians helping out on 0085 were a perfect mix of Tony’s most recent bands – and also mark a dividing line between them. New South alumni Larry Rice, J.D. Crowe, and Jerry Douglas meshed with with DGQ bandmates Todd Phillips (this time on bass), Darol Anger, and David Grisman, as well as violinist Richard Greene at 1750 Arch Studios in Berkeley, California, with engineer Bob Shoemaker – Grisman’s engineer and later Rice collaborator Billy Wolf was not available. Tony chose a number of standards as the bedrock for the album, but he also cast a gaze forward with experimental tunes like David Nichtern’s “Plastic Banana,” and “Rattlesnake,” the first “Dawg Jazz” tune David Grisman ever wrote in 1966.

In The Book of Dawg: Dawg Jazz Grisman says, “Although I had already written some atypical (for bluegrass) melodies in minor keys, this one utilized some chord types – minor 6th, 7ths and flat 5s – that are more commonly found in jazz, as well as four bars where the time signature changes from 4/4 to 3/4 and back.”

Even classic old-time/bluegrass numbers on Tony Rice – like “Eighth of January” – feel like Dawg tunes, with unique fiddle/mandolin harmonies and jazzy improvs. And they should, since the tune was part of the Quintet set list and was something listeners in the Bay Area heard at live gigs at the time.

The bluegrass selections ran the gamut from Jimmy Martin stalwarts “Don’t Give Your Heart to a Rambler” and “Mr. Engineer” to “Banks of the Ohio,” “Hills of Roane County,” “Way Downtown,” and “Farewell Blues,” a Crowe showpiece that Tony also wanted to do because Clarence played it a lot. In between were fiddle tunes like “Temperance Reel” and bluegrass instrumentals – one from the Monroe canon (“Big Mon”) and another from Jim & Jesse (“Stoney Creek”).

Tony described the record as “keeping a foothold” in bluegrass but admits he “didn’t know what he was doing” when he went in the studio to record it.

That may be one reason that of all the records Tony recorded in his long career, this was tied for his least favorite. In his authorized biography Still Inside – written by myself and Caroline Wright and released in 2010 – he said, “I don’t like that album. Something is missing; I can’t explain what it is… The only two albums of my own I can’t stand are the one I did for Sab Watanabe and the first one I did for Rounder. If I never hear them again, it would be too soon.”

He likened it to James Taylor getting physically sick once in a restaurant upon hearing Sweet Baby James, which many people considered his masterpiece. “He said it was literally torture…,” Tony said. “I thought, ‘Damn, I’m probably one of the few people who can appreciate that!’”

But Rice devotees all include songs from this album in their favorites list, especially numbers like “Don’t Give Your Heart to a Rambler” – where, as Philip Elwood says in the liners, “…Tony seems to vocally leap into the lyrics and in doing so generates an excitement the whole band picks up on…” This is also true on “Hills of Roane County,” another favorite.

The album was recorded at a time where Tony was near his vocal peak, showcasing his voice in all its warmth and contemporary clarity that endeared him to recent bluegrass converts – who might also be fans of, say, the Seldom Scene – as well as traditional fans who loved his renditions of the bluegrass standards here. For my generation and those to follow, Tony’s versions of these tunes became standards.

The real standout to my ear is “Hills of Roane County,” which is based on a poem Tennessean Willis Maberry finished while serving time for the 1884 murder of Thomas Galbreath. The song was first recorded in the country tradition by the Blue Sky Boys in 1941 and later by the Stanley Brothers (perhaps the ultimate bluegrass cover was by Paul Williams in Jimmy Martin’s band). Tony’s haunting, brooding version of the tune features wonderful twin fiddling from Richard Greene and Darol Anger, a great drop-D guitar break, and what was, in 1977, an utterly modern live vocal rendering of the old melody that perfectly fit the upper ranges of his baritone. Although he complained in Still Inside that “…if I could go back and do it again, I wouldn’t have used as many ornaments with the vocal. I overdid it, but in the moment, you don’t know that.”

But Rice’s wistful emotion and phrasing on lines like “Just three months later I’d taken Tom’s life…” make it sound like he absolutely knew the man and regretted it. The end of the guitar break features a flat 7 movement with jazz piano voicing similar to Tony’s kickoff to “Ten Degrees” from J.D. Crowe & The New South two years earlier. Shew…

Once again, James Alan Shelton echoed the opinions of so many guitarists: “I’ve never heard a guitar sound any… boomier and still have good tone as what he got on ‘Hills of Roane County.’ That guitar just sounds like it comes out of the depths of hell.” When I interviewed Tony in August of 2006, he said, “I don’t even remember that guitar break.”

The remastered version of the record, out via Craft Recordings on vinyl and digital platforms – and high-res audio – has more presence and power than the original by far to my ears; it’s great to finally hear this record the way Tony and the crew probably heard it in the studio going down. This is particularly important since the record was done almost completely live with very little overdubbing or editing.

Kudos to mastering engineer Kevin Gray of Cohearent Audio, who also handled the Craft Recordings re-release of Tony’s only solo project, Church Street Blues as well as Rice’s favorite of his solo records, Backwaters. The masters for all these Craft releases were made from the original analog master tapes.


Tim Stafford lives in Greeneville, Tennessee and is the co-author with Caroline Wright of Tony Rice’s authorized biography, Still Inside. He was awarded IBMA Liner Notes of the Year in 2021 for his work on Rebel Records’ reissue of Tony’s second album, California Autumn. An alumnus of Alison Krauss & Union Station, Stafford co-founded Blue Highway, which is celebrating 32 years in 2026; their most recent project is Live at ETSU! on Down the Road Records. Stafford was named IBMA Songwriter of the Year in 2014, 2017, and 2023.

Cole Chaney: In His Own Words

Editor’s Note: Last month, we featured an interview with singer-songwriter Cole Chaney on the site for the very first time. The Kentuckian artist was more than generous with his time, spending a couple of hours speaking to BGS and Good Country contributor Alison Richter. 

Many lovely portions of their interview ended up cut for length, so we’re excited to share a few selections from those edits here as a bonus follow-up to our feature conversation. Below, enjoy Chaney discussing how songs morph and change over time, his practice regimen, guitar and songwriting as crafts and forms of expression, and much more. 

Songs Evolving Over Time

The intention is the same as it was back then [when they were written], but your taste grows as you develop as an artist and musician.

When you listen to the Mercy version of “Ill Will Creek” (above) and the Live AF version, those are two almost completely different songs, but they’re still the same. The thread, the root of the song, remains the same. They’re just wearing a different coat.

Practice and Technique

I don’t have a concrete practice routine. I’ve never been able to sit down and make myself do scales or anything like that. I’d probably be a lot better guitar player if I did more technical playing.

I’ve always idolized guys like Hendrix, and if you look into how he looked at it, he didn’t have time to practice because he was always writing riffs and coming up with cool guitar licks or creating in some capacity. That’s what I do when I have a guitar in my hands. I warm up and play some scales or whatever, but it eventually turns into, “Oh, man, that sounds cool. What can I attach to that?” and I start writing riffs. That’s just how I do it.

I would be a much more technically proficient guitar player if I actually did sit down and make myself practice a lot. But I think a lot of that creativity comes out of me having a weird picking style and not being necessarily educated on what is supposed to sound good and where that’s supposed to go, and just letting stuff happen where it happens.

Guitar As Expression

Especially in recent years, as we talked about the bands I’m influenced by – very guitar-heavy bands, for me – it always starts with a riff. I like chunky, heavy stuff a lot of the time. A song doesn’t always call for that; sometimes you write something that may sound a little more sensitive, but the direction it’s gone with me has been catchy riffs that stay in your head when you play it. That’s when I know I’ve got something cool and that I should keep plugging away.

I sat down last night with a little $300 Breedlove and plucked away at this riff I’ve been messing with for two-and-a-half hours, just seeing what I could add in here, if this would sound cool there. And so, yes, the guitar is just as important, if not more, to my music as the lyrics.

The Craft of Songwriting

It’s not always riffs first, lyrics second, but I find that is most often the way it goes down. I don’t know. I can’t give you a way my songs come together. It feels like it happens in a different way every time. I’m very melody-driven; it’s the way I listen to music. Everybody’s got different things they’re trying to get out of the songs, but, for me, the melody is the most important thing.

Reinterpreting “Spirit” for In The Shadow Of The Mountain

It was a work in progress, because there’s a challenge in having songs be out for two or three years on their own as solo acoustic pieces.

I kind of look at the OurVinyl [Sessions] as demos– in a way, that was not necessarily what I saw as the finished product for any of those songs. And then they get the attention, that becomes the versions of the songs that people know and love, and it puts pressure on the situation of, “Oh, damn, people care about this song now, so I have to do it justice.’ It has to be tasteful, it can’t be too much, and all these things. It’s an equation that you’re trying to find the answer to.

“Spirit” maybe took the longest out of all of them. There’s me and Duane Lundy and Zachary Hamilton co-producing. If you talked to them, they would probably tell you the same thing – it took us the longest to get that song to where we were all feeling really good about it.

We were maybe one day away from having to have the mix completely wrapped up on everything and send it off to be mastered. I was listening to “Spirit” on my way to the studio and I was like, “This sounds really good, the groove is there, but something’s missing and I don’t know what it is.” It was driving me nuts. I was wracking my brain. “What would sound good on this? What would sound good?” And I was like, “It needs a piano, an actual piano.”

I’m a huge Bruce Hornsby fan, so I wanted something nimble like that. The one person I knew I could lean on to do it was Aaron Bibelhauser. I called him, and it was one of those “something that’s meant to be” type of things. It was, “Man, I don’t know if you can get in here today. We’ve only got one day left to finish this thing, but ‘Spirit’ really needs a piano on it. And if you’re around” — he’s from Louisville — “and you can make the trip, I’d love to get you to put some piano on it.” He said, “I’m actually in Lexington right now, so I can just run right on over.”

I think it really tied the whole song together and made it the full picture that I had been envisioning for that song the whole time.

Looking Ahead

I still write and love to write folk songs, but I keep running into this issue while I’m writing folk songs of trying to make them a little too brooding or complex when they don’t need to be all the time. You can have complex folk songs. I think Billy Strings is a good example of that. “Gild the Lily” is a fantastic song, and that’s complex, but it’s still very much a string band song.

There’s a lot of creative energy flying around in the Cole Chaney realm right now. I don’t know what it looks like yet, so I can’t step out on a limb and say a whole lot about it, because there’s nothing certain happening.

But we’re all working on contributing towards something that will be really interesting and cool, if it ends up coming to fruition, which I think it will. It will probably be a thing on its own. I need to do a dedicated rock project — I’ll just leave it at that. I think it’s safe to say at some point there will be electric guitars involved.


Read our full interview with Cole Chaney here.

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Photo Credit: David McClister

The Other 22 Hours: Molly Tuttle

Molly Tuttle has shared stages and recorded with Ringo Starr and Billy Strings, yet she still grapples with the unpredictable “ups and downs” of a musician’s schedule and the inherent instability of the road. We talk with the GRAMMY-winning artist – who was also the first woman to win IBMA Guitarist of the Year – about the “baggage” of turning a passion into a profession. We explore the necessity of trusting one’s gut over industry expectations, how she navigates the transition from bluegrass traditionalism to rock-leaning solo projects, and the quiet power of having a partner who understands the nuance of tour routing.

LISTEN: APPLE • SPOTIFY • AMAZON • MP3

In This Episode:

Molly Tuttle
Nonesuch Records
Tyler Childers
Berklee College of Music
Ep 3 – The Milk Carton Kids
The Goodbye Girls
The Stray Birds
Ozark Mountain Folk Center
First Ladies of Bluegrass
Alison Brown
Ep 50 – Sierra Hull
Missy Raines
Becky Buller
Ketch Secor
Old Crow Medicine Show
Chris Stapleton
Ep 28 – The Wood Brothers

Go Deeper:

Watch: View this entire conversation above or on YouTube.
Explore: Find similar conversations in these themed playlists.
Connect: Join the conversation on Instagram.

The Other 22 Hours is hosted by Aaron Shafer-Haiss (producer, mixer, musician) and Michaela Anne (songwriter, artist, creative coach). More about Aaron’s workMore about Michaela Anne’s work.


Produced by Aaron Shafer-Haiss. Original music written, performed and produced by Aaron Shafer-Haiss.

Photo Credit: Ebru Yildiz

You Gotta Hear This: New Music From Courtney Hartman, Dee White, and More

It’s another week where popcorn may be necessary to fully enjoy our weekly new music round-up, with all of the new music videos included below! You Gotta Hear This…

Our first screening is some cosmic California country from Mac Cornish, who’s sharing a music video for the title track of her upcoming album, Wayfaring Woman. The full LP will launch in September, so enjoy this early taste of the project, a song about finding, re-finding, and returning to oneself despite time, geography, and all that comes between.

We have a couple of fun and funny videos you’ll enjoy as well. Nashville-based husband-and-wife roots duo Zaggie (Zach & Maggie White) have a new single and video for “Parking Lot Vacation.” Sometimes a need to unplug, unwind, and relax can be satiated with a good ol’ fashioned sit in a parking lot. The video is witty and hilarious to match the flowing, island-getaway sonics of the song. Plus, Essence & Gold Country have a gut-busting video to tribute Mother’s Day and every “Good Mom” out there. As frontwoman Essence Goldman puts it, it’s all about “the beautiful chaos of motherhood and the truth that we don’t have to lose ourselves to be a good mom.” It’s bluegrassy country that will get your toe tapping while bringing a smile to your face.

Also just in time for Mother’s Day, our old friend Courtney Hartman shares an intimate and tender peformance video for “Honey, Honey,” a song she wrote dripping with love for her young daughter, describing the perfection of her child through her own eyes and building her up for a life built on love, confidence, and strength. It’s gut-wrenching and comforting at the same time, a deft balance that Hartman is well known for in her songwriting and guitar picking. It’s a lovely video for the occasion – and beyond – and announces her upcoming album, With You: From The Garden Shed, set for release June 12.

From bluegrass, Jaelee Roberts has a new single that was written by bluegrass radio personality and songwriter Terry Herd. “I’m Putting You Out of My Misery” pulls inspiration from traditional hard-driving bluegrass and contemporary sounds equally and boasts a stacked roster of pickers rounding out the band behind Jaelee’s gorgeous, crystalline vocals.

Country and Americana powerhouse Dee White has a new song as well, “Green River Rye,” which dropped earlier this week. Check it out below, it’s a pretty stripped-down recording made with just a simple acoustic trio – with Brian Murray and Jimmy Law – that lands somewhere between classic folk, country & western, and bluegrass, aesthetically. With whiskey as its centerpiece, it’s a lonesome and longing song that feels truly timeless – like you could sing along intuitively immediately, even on first listen. And don’t miss singer-songwriter Zach Seabaugh’s “Owes You Nothing,” a song about navigating Nashville, Music Row, and the music industry without losing your sense of self – or comparing yourself to everyone else you meet along the way. It’s a lovely track built on sensitive and brooding modern country sounds.

Celebrate your Mother’s Day weekend by calling your mama (who is definitely a good mom), sipping some Green River Rye, and taking a parking lot vacation – you’ve earned it. And, You Gotta Hear This!

Mac Cornish, “Wayfaring Woman”

Artist: Mac Cornish
Hometown: Raised Bay Area, California, based in Nashville, Tennessee
Song: “Wayfaring Woman”
Album: Wayfaring Woman
Release Date: May 8, 2026 (single); September 25, 2026 (album)

In Their Words: “‘Wayfaring Woman’ is a song about a girl who stays moving so her past won’t catch up to her – and so she won’t have to face herself. By the time I finished writing it I realized it was about myself. It was my way of telling myself, ‘It’s alright to cry, but it’s time to remember who you are and stop this cycle.’ So when I sing, ‘Even in yours lows, you can always go home,’ I mean the place and the state of mind.

“Making my way back to myself has always felt connected to the California home of my youth. Those canyon roads and golden hills remind me of who I am and who I always dreamed of being. I might not be able to access those places physically anymore, but the sense of self that I found there is within me and this song is a reminder to myself that I can always go back, I can always go home to myself. ‘Wayfaring Woman’ is the title track and first single off my second record, set to come out in September 25. It’s steeped in cosmic California twang, and I don’t think I’ve ever sounded more like myself.” – Mac Cornish

Track Credits:
Mac Cornish – Vocals, acoustic guitar, songwriter
Hillary Fretland – Harmony vocals
Charlie Fuertsch – Electric guitar
Cooper Dickerson – Steel guitar
Jack Lawrence – Bass
Dave Racine – Drums

Video Credit: Directed and filmed by Janaya Pardo.


Essence & Gold Country, “Good Mom”

Artist: Essence & Gold Country
Hometown: San Francisco, California
Song: “Good Mom”
Album: Father’s Daughter
Release Date: May 8, 2026 (video); September 26, 2025 (album)
Label: Blue Elan

In Their Words: “This ‘Good Mom’ video is about the beautiful chaos of motherhood and the truth that we don’t have to lose ourselves to be a good mom. It holds that tension between giving everything to our children and still claiming space for our own soul, and taking care of ourselves so we have more to give.

“This song gets the best reaction when I perform it live. I just watch the mothers start laughing and shaking their heads in agreement. It is hard for me not to laugh when I sing it. Any mom out there can relate. We thought it was fun to release this music video as as a gift to all the moms on Mother’s Day. Though in my opinion, every day should be Mother’s Day!” – Essence Goldman

Video Credits:
Laura Kudritzki – Director, cinematographer
Essence Goldman – Producer
Austin Grose – Executive producer
Craig Morton – Assistant producer
Margaret Bolton Grace – Stylist
Angela Shippen – Hair, makeup
Andres Campos – Hair, makeup
Elise Bigley – Hair, makeup
Keldon Duane-McGlashan – Editor


Courtney Hartman, “Honey, Honey”

Artist: Courtney Hartman
Hometown: Eau Claire, Wisconsin
Song: “Honey, Honey”
Album: With You: From The Garden Shed
Release Date: May 8, 2026 (single); June 12, 2026 (album)

In Their Words: “‘Honey, Honey’ is a love song to my daughter – a collage of daily imagery and truths I want her to hold onto. She has taught me about delight and even as I am the one cradling her and giving her comfort, it is often my own heart being mended by her.

“In the final verse I list a few things I want her to remember when I am not there to hold her, ‘quiet waters, soothe and sway, sunlight and kindness, the cradle of a day. You’re brave as an iris, a bright display, a trumpeter swan lifting up and away.’ Tift Merritt co-wrote this song with me, helping me clear away the debris and uncover within my own days the scenes I most wanted to sing.” – Courtney Hartman

Video Credits: Filmed by Kyle Lehman.
Edited by Erik Elstran.


Jaelee Roberts, “I’m Putting You Out of My Misery”

Artist: Jaelee Roberts
Hometown: Nashville, Tennessee
Song: “I’m Putting You Out of My Misery”
Label: Mountain Home Music Company
Release Date: May 8, 2026

In Their Words: “‘I’m Putting You Out of My Misery’ is one of those songs that stopped me in my tracks the first time I heard it. Terry Herd wrote an incredible song and I fell in love with it right away. To me, it strikes the perfect balance between that hard-driving traditional sound and a touch of contemporary bluegrass. I absolutely love how everything came together in the studio. I’ve always enjoyed a song with a little bit of attitude and this one definitely delivers.

“I was also fortunate to have some amazing musicians join me on the recording. Alan Bartram on bass, Ron Stewart on banjo, Tony Wray on guitar, Michael Cleveland on fiddle, Justin Moses on mandolin and Dobro, and Zack Arnold adding harmony vocals. Getting to collaborate with such talented players made this project especially meaningful to me. I’m truly proud of how the track turned out, and I’m so thankful to each of them for being part of it. I hope you all enjoy listening to it as much as I enjoyed recording it.” – Jaelee Roberts

Track Credits:
Jaelee Roberts – Lead vocal
Alan Bartram – Bass
Ron Stewart – Banjo
Tony Wray – Guitar
Michael Cleveland – Fiddle
Justin Moses – Mandolin, resonator guitar
Zack Arnold – Harmony vocal


Zach Seabaugh, “Owes You Nothing”

Artist: Zach Seabaugh
Hometown: Marietta, Georgia & Nashville, Tennessee
Song: “Owes You Nothing”
Release Date: May 8, 2026 (single)
Label: Cloverdale Records

In Their Words: “This song came at a time when I needed to check myself – on where I was in life – and on the people in my life I didn’t want to take for granted. I wrote it with Park Chisolm and Reid Haughton on Music Row. I was talking to them about how hard it is sometimes to show up in Nashville, to be creative for a living. You can fall into the comparison trap when so much of the industry around you is trying to set out for the same thing. But I don’t like feeling sorry for myself. I’m super grateful for what I have and who I get to live life with and at the end of the day, I guess this world owes you nothing. So you gotta make the most with what you got—that’s when you realize you got all you need.” – Zach Seabaugh


Dee White, “Green River Rye”

Artist: Dee White
Hometown: Slapout, Alabama
Song: “Green River Rye”
Release Date: May 6, 2026

In Their Words: “I first discovered Green River Rye Whiskey during a hunting trip to Kentucky. The bottle instantly caught my eye – it was the same one I remembered from an antique lithograph that hung in my childhood home. At the time, my girlfriend had just left me, and the chorus melody had already popped into my head. Later that night, I was hanging out with my buddies Jimmy and Brian and we finalized the music and lyrics. The very next evening, we went into the studio and recorded it as an acoustic trio in Nashville.” – Dee White


Zaggie, “Parking Lot Vacation”

Artist: Zaggie
Hometown: Nashville, Tennessee
Song: “Parking Lot Vacation”
Album: Turpentine Mind
Release Date: May 6, 2026 (single); August 26, 2026 (album)
Label: Zaggie Records

In Their Words: “‘Parking Lot Vacation’ came from the exact mental-headspace-shift the song is about. I was supposed to be writing. Instead, I was staring at a blank page for long enough that it started staring back. Eventually I just… leaned back, let myself off the hook for a bit, and the song showed up. Turns out vacations are less about where you are and more about the moment you stop letting petty anxieties run the show. A good car seat, a warm breeze, a window cracked just right is sometimes all I need. We’ve seen a lot of beautiful places in the world and a parking lot on the right day is genuinely in the conversation.” – Zach White

Track Credits:
Zach White – Vocals, guitar, songwriter
Maggie White – Mandolin
Dan Needham – Drums
Byron House – Bass
Chris Walters – Piano

Video Credits:
Cast: Annabelle Fox-Tieman, Douglas Waterbury-Tieman, Ollie Fox-Tieman, Huck Fox-Tieman, Emily Rogers, Josée Klein.
Directed and edited by Zach White.
Location Videography by BAMM Productions.


Photo Credit: Courtney Hartman by Michelle Bennett; Dee White by John Peets.

Cole Chaney is
“Anti-Machine”

While many young talents, willingly or hesitantly, bow down to music industry boardroom suits who promise stardom if they’ll follow a professionally curated path, Cole Chaney takes a hard pass. He knows exactly who he is, what he does, and how he wants to get there. He creates songs, not content. He’s a career musician, not a brand. And the only thing he hopes to influence, maybe, is someone, somewhere, who wants to make music for all the right reasons.

Chaney grew up in Catlettsburg, Kentucky, surrounded by the legacies and storytelling of his elders. After graduating high school he worked as a welder, uncertain of his career path, but already fueled by his passion for music. Today, he keeps one musical foot in the bluegrass traditions of his Appalachian roots and the other in guitar-centric, amplified bands like Soundgarden, Nirvana, Alice In Chains, and Stone Temple Pilots.

His debut album Mercy and subsequent OurVinyl Sessions reflect his love of acoustic music and showcase his leanings toward introspection and melancholy. In the Shadow of the Mountain, released last fall, takes that darkness to a new place, balances it with moments of light and leans into the aforementioned rock influences, while never losing the origins of his sound. All of this shines at peak level onstage, captured by Western AF on a Live AF Session.

Sitting outside at home on an April morning, drinking coffee and surrounded by the sounds of birds and a breeze, Chaney spent a couple of hours on the phone with Good Country. He spoke candidly about his music, faith, values, mental health, and the intertwining of inner peace and inner turbulence that make all these things uniquely him.

When you were ready to do this professionally, you went to Lexington. Most songwriters would have chosen Nashville. Was yours a deliberate decision or a natural one?

Cole Chaney: To understand that decision, you have to look at who I was looking up to at the time – and still do – and what drove that decision. When I was in high school, probably around my freshman or sophomore year, 2014 or 2015, I started getting into this band called Sundy Best. They’re from Prestonsburg, Kentucky, which is just down the road from me. This was pre-Tyler Childers. At the time, in Eastern Kentucky, these guys were the biggest thing coming and going. They leaned heavily on being from Kentucky, the same way I do, and they moved to Lexington to get a foothold.

That was my early example, watching those guys. I knew they weren’t going about it the traditional way, which was to go to Nashville and pray somebody picks you up. They did it in Lexington. A couple years later, Tyler Childers comes along – another super-influential figure in my musical upbringing. Of course, he’s anti-Nashville – not the city, but the machine, if you will. I’m pretty sure he lived in Lexington, or at least around the area in the scene, for a while. So did Sturgill Simpson. The list goes on.

I was like, “What business model makes more sense to me? Do I go to the place where there’s more songwriters than the rest of the entire planet or somewhere where people will actually understand what I’m saying and I can maybe build myself a little bit of a foundation?”

The way I saw it is if I started building a sort of fan base or if I had enough ticket buyers, places like Nashville or Denver, these big music scene cities, what choice would they have other than to book us? That’s the way I looked at it.

And it worked.

It did work. It’s a simple business model, but the difference between that model and the other is you’re not sitting around waiting for something to happen. It’s on you to go out and make your own connections. It’s a very grassroots and organic way of doing it and that’s the way I like to do things. I’m anti-machine. Even though I work with some bigger companies, I keep it as limited as possible. That’s so I can play pretty much wherever I want, whenever I want, and they understand that.

On the Whiskey Riff Raff Podcast you said, “Music found me.” Would you mind expanding on that just a bit?

It did. I never would have dreamed at 16 years old that I would be doing this as my full-time job at 25. That was never on the horizon for me. I didn’t know what I was going to do. I knew I was going to weld for a little bit, see what happened, and maybe try to start my own business. And I did. But I really didn’t think it was going to end up like this.

I started realizing that people liked to hear me play and sing around the same time that COVID hit really hard. That gave me an opportunity to sit down, write some songs, and think about what I wanted to do with the rest of my life.

I’m very much a subscriber to the Bible, and I think the Lord has a mysterious way of working. He put me on a path without me even realizing it way back then and I do my best to stay on it now. I think my job while I’m here is to create as much good stuff as I can, stuff that means something, get it out to the people, and get out in front of them and play it for them. As somebody who enjoys going to shows in their free time and watching my favorite bands perform live, I know how that feels, and it’s truly a privilege to be able to offer that same service to other people.

There is music in your bloodlines, not professionally, but family members who played in church and at home. You obviously assimilated the sound of the area, and also this wider scope with bands like Alice In Chains and Stone Temple Pilots. When did all of that begin seeping into your songwriting?

We listened to the radio when I was growing up. I didn’t get educated on music or how to play until I started really getting into it. To this day, I’m still being educated and learning how to play on a daily basis. Part of what keeps it so fun to me is how much I don’t know and constantly learning about things.

Mercy was my first album, and I had access to what was around me. I had just moved to Lexington and I was really into bluegrass. There’s a band called the Wooks that, to this day, Glory Bound is one of my top three favorite records of all time. I was infatuated with that sound and that was what I wanted Mercy to sound like, or at least as close to it as I could get. A lot of the Wooks ended up playing on that album, plus Michael Cleveland. It was crazy.

Alice In Chains has been a mainstay in my musical taste since I was probably 15 or 16 years old. Since I first found them, I was very drawn in by the tone of Layne Staley’s voice and the weight of Jerry Cantrell’s guitar. It feels like you could bite it and chew on it. I don’t know how to describe it.

I’ve also always loved bluegrass, so it was [figuring out] how to bridge the gap of what I listen to and where I want to go with my writing without completely abandoning that sound. And bringing the alternative rock sound into the folk realm, where you have mandolin, upright bass, fiddle, acoustic guitars, and drums. The biggest change in the sound has been the addition of drums over the past two years, navigating that and seeing how it fits into the whole equation. It opened up a lot of avenues for me as a songwriter.

You began playing guitar at 13 or 14. Did you always play acoustic?

The thing about electric guitar, for me, is that it’s such a deep realm of gear and a deep dive. I’ve always been attracted to good-sounding acoustic guitars and players like Tony Rice, so I felt my effort was best spent getting really good at playing the acoustic guitar.

That will carry over whenever I decide to pick up an electric guitar, more so than if I only played electric guitar and tried to write some bluegrass-style acoustic lines. It would be a tougher transition to come over from light gauge strings on an electric guitar to .013s on a dreadnought and trying to play “Blue Railroad Train” or something like that.

Do you have an electric guitar?

I have several electric guitars. I’ve got a ’57 reboot Stratocaster, an American Professional Telecaster, my old Paul Reed Smith that I learned how to play electric on, and a nice Vox amp. I don’t know all that much about electric guitars. I still have a lot to learn.

Prior to this interview, you sent over your touring rig: a Gibson J-45 Banner in standard tuning with a K&K Pure Mini pickup, and a Breedlove sitka/rosewood Custom Dreadnought in drop D/double drop D, with an LR Baggs Element VTC pickup. Also two Grace BiX DI’s and a Lampifier Model 711 cardioid mic for lead vocals.

Those are my road guitars. They aren’t the ones I recorded everything with, but those are what you see at the shows.

In addition to the Gibson and Breedlove, do you have other acoustics?

I have two Gary Cotten guitars. [On] OurVinyl [Sessions, that] was my first Cotten I recorded with. On In the Shadow of the Mountain, many of those songs are my newer Cotten, which is sinker mahogany and an Adirondack top. “Alone?,” “In the Shadow of the Mountain,” “Into,” “Feels Like Rain,” and “Spirit” [were all recorded] on the Cotten.

That guitar sounds huge. It’s an outstanding guitar. I don’t tour with it because I’m scared something would happen to it and it’s too special to me. And Gary’s a great dude. He’s always taken really good care of me, and I want that guitar to stick around for a long time.

I don’t have any electronics in it, either. It’s a very traditional style, it’s a dovetail, and I want to keep it as traditional as I can and keep as much weight out of it as I can, because the more weight you add, sometimes it makes them sound worse.

What makes the Gibson and Breedlove right for touring?

They’re super-versatile and they both sound fantastic plugged in. That Breedlove is the longest-standing guitar I have that I’ve consistently played shows with. I got it in 2019 from 4 o’clock Rock Guitar Shop in Ashland [Kentucky]. It’s a custom dreadnought that they shop-ordered and it’s got the LR Baggs VTC Element in it. It has always sounded so good plugged in. I mean, all guitars sound bad plugged in, but it’s a matter of how much of the original sound can you actually preserve when you plug it in.

I’ve gotten to the point where I am almost starting to desire a little bit of that direct input texture. Maybe it’s because I’m listening to too much MTV Unplugged, but I’m starting to desire that kind of cardboard bad sound.

The Gibson, I put a K&K Pure Mini in and it sounds really close to what it sounds like not plugged in. Man, that Gibson is a beast. I love that guitar. It’s been to every show with me since I bought it last year.

I still have a Paul Reed Smith acoustic guitar and it’s a damned good little guitar. I’ll probably end up using it again on some stuff. It’s one of those that you plug in and it sounds great, too. But when I got into the whole bluegrass thing, I knew I needed something with a little more body.

Sometimes you use a pick, sometimes fingers. Either way, your attack is strong. How did your technique develop?

It’s one hundred percent out of necessity. I had a really bad injury in 2015 and I damn near cut my index finger completely off at the knuckle. I can’t wholly bend my index finger and I can’t feel the picking side of that finger. If you watch some of my older videos, my index finger is flailing around all the time. It’s because I’m picking with my thumb and middle finger, and that’s where I’m holding the pick. That took me long enough to learn how to do.

In recent years I’ve learned how to use my middle finger to lock my index in place and be able to hold a pick. It looks normal, but if you could see how the sausage is made, it’s not that pretty. I wish I had that dexterity in my finger. The takeaway message from that is, “Take care of your hands, y’all.”

Let’s talk about the through line from bluegrass to bands like Stone Temple Pilots and Alice In Chains. You blend the genres seamlessly and it all makes sense. Did you always feel that connection?

If you listen to any playlist I’ve had, I’ll go from Ralph Stanley to Chris Cornell in a heartbeat. Obviously the music is different, but there are common themes between the two. Mountain folk music, hard rock, and that era are very dark and brooding, and they can be heavy in their own ways too.

What is heavy? What makes a song heavy? You’ve got people drop-tuning their guitars, but it’s still not as heavy as Pantera or Black Sabbath or something like that. So it’s not necessarily the sound that makes it heavy. It’s the vibe of the song.

I feel like a salesman a little bit, trying to sell this idea that this stuff can be brought together and related in an authentic capacity. Let’s take [Stone Temple Pilots’] “Big Empty,” for example. To do a cover of that and be looked at as a folk artist or an Appalachian artist, or some people will even say country – which I disagree with, but whatever – it always seems like somebody will start into a cover of this great song, but then they’ll get hokey with it and it loses all its purity.

That’s not at all the intended purpose for me. It’s to say, “This is a fantastic song and it fits the vibe that we’re all going for in this realm.” A lot of people probably didn’t know that a mandolin or fiddle sounds great on “Big Empty,” but now they do, because it fits. That’s the way I listen to that kind of stuff. It’s just how to pull that off without being cheesy or coming off in a capitalistic way. More so in a way of, “I love this song and you guys should listen to it.”

Was it challenging to find musicians who understand going from bluegrass to Stone Temple Pilots and back again?

The band, I think through a lot of prayer/manifestation, has come together and, as you hear, they’re fantastic. They can play anything in any style. Ella [Webster] and Kyle [Kleinman] come from a more traditional folk music side of things. Kyle is a bluegrasser and Ella is an old-time fiddle player. Lars [Swanson] and James [Gooding] are jazz cats, so they have infinite vocabulary when it comes to music. If you can play jazz, then you’re going to be all right. If you can pull off that stuff, you don’t have anything to worry about when it comes to my type of music. Stone Temple Pilots is a walk in the park for you.

In our van, the most listened-to bands between us are Soundgarden, Pantera, whatever James’s choice of jazz is, and Alice In Chains MTV Unplugged. That’s a really good piece of music. But yeah, they’re a great band and they can play anything.

Did Lars and James know each other before they joined your band? To lock in a rhythm section…

No, they didn’t. Once you start playing with a jazz drummer, you need somebody who can comprehend the stuff he’s laying out and answer that on the bass. To have those two sit in a room and jam is really something to witness and listen to, because they speak a language to each other that I don’t understand. But I love when they do it, and it’s great to hear.

I’ll be playing onstage, singing and doing my thing, those guys are behind me and I’ll hear them back there, talking to each other while we’re doing this thing, and it’s awesome. They’re special. Those two dudes – they’re incredible. They’re the unsung heroes of music in general. That’s your metaphorical offensive line right there. If you don’t have a Lars and a James, then your quarterback’s getting sacked all the time.

This is you in 2025 on The Western Side, talking about Shadow: “a lot of darkness and an equal amount of joy in other songs. It’s a good depiction of where I’ve been for the past two years. A tumultuous and chaotic time period, but also great. And I’m still here.”

Then, In 2021, on With A View: “I load the pressure on. It’s how I operate. My brain lives in constant turmoil.” In 2020, talking about “Fever Dream,” “a song about trying to keep it all together. … the way I deal with this is isolation. And when you isolate yourself, you don’t have much of a choice but to hash some things out in your head.”

You are no stranger to the dark place.

Hearing those things, I look at that younger version of myself almost as I would look at a younger brother. Part of me wishes I could put an arm around that kid’s shoulders and be like, “You’re going to be all right, buddy.” Times got a little tough, as they probably should for anybody at points in their life. You can’t really enjoy the great parts of your life without having a little bit of adversity to overcome or deal with. The darkest part, for me, was maybe just growing up and gaining a new understanding of the way the world actually operates and how hopeless that can be at times, but also how beautiful it can be in the same stroke.

What I’ve realized is you get out of this world what you pay attention to, because whatever you want to find, you can find it. It’s there and it’s aplenty, whether you want to find the negativity and suffering, or whether you want to find the positive and the good. I don’t have the answer to where folks are supposed to operate and live, but I think it’s good to help people who are in that suffering side of things. But you can’t let that dominate your existence, and for a little while, I was maybe dominated by the darker side of life.

I try to be as empathetic as I can, but with that comes feeling a lot and also accidentally hurting people sometimes. That’s really tough, because then you have this cycle of guilt that you deal with trying to make it right in your head. As I’ve gotten a little older and maybe figured a couple things out, I try to have a lot more grace for myself. What I’ve learned about the pressure is that it’s really just perceived pressure and none of that exists, and you should just care less what people think.

Obviously, music is where you go during those times.

Absolutely. If something is eating at me that I’m having a hard time getting out in a linear fashion, a lot of times I find myself writing about it without even realizing it. My mom is an abstract painter, so I grew up with an understanding of what “abstract” means and abstract concepts. That’s how I materialize a lot of that stuff, because some of it is things I would never come right out and literally write down, for multitudes of reasons, but things you want to indirectly address. That’s when [abstraction] becomes a great tool for addressing those kinds of things. Metaphors.

It seems, when it comes to expressing those things, you’re in the balance between the emotionally open world of Cornell, Cobain, and others and the world of bluegrass, country, hunting, fishing, and those stereotypes of “manly men” – and not so much emotional transparency.

Not necessarily. I don’t know about the whole “alpha male” personality type. It’s always seemed to me that a lot of times the guys who are trying to be perceived as macho are probably the ones who need a hug the most. Now it’s everybody else’s problem because their dad didn’t do it, and that sucks.

As I’ve emotionally developed a little bit, I’ve really started to respect individuals like Chris Cornell. If you look into him as a person and watch some of his interviews, he’s intelligent and seemingly self-aware. I respect the way he conducted himself, especially in interviews, and the way he made sure to pay attention to people and make them feel seen. The only way you can empathize with people like that and make sure of those types of things is if you’ve been on the other end of that stuff and you’ve felt looked over and brushed off.

I may not be the best at answering Instagram DMs, and I definitely don’t stay on the internet because I think it sucks, but if I talk to somebody in person, I always try my best to give them that and be present in the moment. Somebody else that does a fantastic job of that is Nicholas Jamerson, the frontman of Sundy Best, who’s a mentor, friend, and hero of mine.

Have you ever felt any hesitation about publicly ripping off the mental health Band-Aids? Or, conversely, is there a feeling of opening the door to people having these conversations?

Sure, there’s hesitation about a lot of things. There’s a lot of decisions about, “How do you want to portray yourself in a public light?” But my main goal is and has been to just be as authentic as I can, as representative of how I feel about things as I can, and to be accepting of people and understand that they come from different places and have different perspectives.

With that hesitancy, there’s also much more in the way that when we were talking about 20-year-old Cole, the way I want to put my arm around that kid and comfort him, that’s what I want my music to do for people that feel the way I was feeling at that time.

Listening to you, I’m reminded of something Charlie Daniels said to me during an interview years ago: “Music is too precious for me to prostitute it.”

Oh, yeah. Absolutely. And, too, Charlie Daniels is one of the greatest country musicians ever. I want to go on record saying that.

The way I look at it is, could I see my heroes, people I look up to, going online and being like, “Comment what song you think I should release next”? No, I don’t think I could. When I see someone who has musical and artistic integrity, that’s how I’m going to operate. I’m going to try my hardest to uphold my integrity and not do the TikToks and the really cheap stuff.

You absolutely will suffer financially for not playing the game and if you don’t kiss the right ass, but, to me, that suffering is not negative suffering. I’m honored to be able to suffer like this, because if my options are suffer or have to watch Country Central’s “Hot Take Tuesday,” then give me suffering all day long, because I’m not paying attention to that bullshit. It’s ridiculous. I don’t care who’s beefing and I don’t care what dude is playing cowboy this week.

That’s why I’m trying to get out of the country scene. It’s becoming so fake and there’s so many people trying to be carbon copies of other people. There’s no authenticity. Everybody’s full of shit. We went through this period where people like Tyler [Childers] drove the spear through the heart of this mainstream country thing and it was akin to when Nirvana came on the scene and effectively killed hair bands for a while. But then the Nirvana copycats came along and garnered a lot of the same attention.

I’m not saying that just Tyler Childers is responsible for this. People like Sturgill, and a lot of smaller artists in their own scenes, are responsible for the turning over of the dirt, if you will. But it’s getting stale. It’s past getting stale. It is stale and it’s bad. There’s a lot of really shitty music being put out right now and I don’t want any part of that.

If I’ve got to step away and back off and be out of the internet eye, then fantastic. That doesn’t bother me one bit. If it means a few less people know who I am, then so be it. But I hold out hope that people will eventually realize how cheap and bad a lot of the music is that is being promoted right now, and there’ll be another turning of the dirt soon.

Yes, art is subjective, but art is subjective. Not this corporate bullshit that they’re trying to push. That’s not art. That’s six dudes in a room trying to come up with a song that’s going to sell on the radio or sell on the internet, or “We’re going to put thirty tracks on this album” so they can set streaming records. It’s like, “Man, y’all have lost the complete plot of the whole thing.” There’s nothing interesting about that to me. I’m all about authenticity. I want to believe the person on the other side of the microphone from me, and if I don’t believe you, then I’m out.


Photo Credit: David McClister

You Gotta Hear This: Margo Price, Darren Nicholson, and More

A fresh batch of roots music has arrived! You Gotta Hear This.

To kick off our weekly roundup of new music, singer-songwriter Jacob Augustine shares a music video for “Halfway to Harlem,” a jangling, twanging, and bluesy roots track with post-apocalyptic vibes – and the video to match. For how forbidding the video and lyrics are in their subject matter, the song is still charming and inviting. You’ll also enjoy a new song from Swedish roots duo Orange Oak. “well, well, well” is tender and contemplative and, as they put it themselves, it “explores the struggles of confronting yourself after a period of avoidance and inner conflict.” Still, there’s ample redemption to be found in the alt-folk track.

For a bit of troubadour storytelling, Pennsylvania’s Jeff Mamett unveils “Like Old Uncle Jim.” With a bit of dark country & western tinge, it’s a story song that pays tribute to larger-than-life figures and finds truth even in fiction and mythology. Mamett’s baritone vocal is rich and engaging. Plus, Irish artist Helen O’Shea, who’s now based in New Jersey, calls on her friends the Carlile Family Band for her new track and lyric video for “There Will Be Days.” It’s Americana with a party vibe, but the subject matter is much more deep and involved, passing on wisdom and considering the many cycles of living life. It’s ripe for a sing along!

In bluegrass, mandolinist and singer-songwriter Darren Nicholson launches his new album, Lonesome Trails and Tall Tales, today. To celebrate, we’re sharing “All Trains Must Come to Pass” for release day. It’s a barn-burning traditional bluegrass number that Nicholson co-wrote with Charles Humphrey III and Thomm Jutz. And don’t miss the latest duo recording from Bryan Sutton, this time featuring guitar wizard Tommy Emmanuel alongside. “Don’t Let Your Deal Go Down” is a common choice by Sutton, but in this arrangement with Emmanuel there are equal infusions of jazz and swing alongside bluegrass and flatpicking.

Also out today is a new tribute album to Guy Clark produced by Dan Knobler and released by Truly Handmade Records. Old No. 1 Revisited features performances by Jade Bird, Erin Rae, Brennen Leigh, Kelsey Waldon, Logan Ledger, and more. For our roundup, we’re sharing Margo Price’s rendition of “Rita Ballou.” Both Price and Knobler tell us their stories of how the track came to be below – it’s an absolutely lovely tribute to a songwriting and Americana legend.

There’s so much to enjoy! You Gotta Hear This…

Jacob Augustine, “Halfway to Harlem”

Artist: Jacob Augustine
Hometown: Portland, Maine
Song: “Halfway to Harlem”
Album: I Love You Forever
Release Date: April 29, 2026 (single); May 22, 2026 (album)
Label: Team Love Records

In Their Words: “Post-apocalyptic survivor studies. Car alarms serenading the cities of America to dead battery silence.

“What is it to fall in love, raise a child, and save the world all at the same time? This song explores these themes and questions. Questions I don’t really have the answers to. But questions that need to be asked I think.” – Jacob Augustine

Video Credits:
Directed by Jacob Augustine.
Co-directed, filmed, and edited by Joshua Powers, Wavin AM.
Starring Brandon Wardwell.
Produced by Wavin AM.


Jeff Mamett, “Like Old Uncle Jim”

Artist: Jeff Mamett
Hometown: Central Pennsylvania
Song: Like Old Uncle Jim
Album: Fortunate Son
Release Date: May 1, 2026 (single); August 21, 2026 (album)

In Their Words: “I grew up around people like this – the kind of man whose stories don’t always land the same way depending on who’s listening. With Uncle Jim, I was interested in that gap between what people say about somebody and what you see for yourself. As a kid, you don’t question it the same way, you just take it in.

“The details were important to me – the cigarette, the pony ride, the way he carried himself. Those things felt more honest than trying to explain him. By the end, the truth is there if you’re paying attention, but it doesn’t come out and announce itself. It just sits in the room. I think that’s how a lot of people are. You don’t always know who they are unless you’re looking closely.” – Jeff Mamett


Darren Nicholson, “All Trains Come to Pass”

Artist: Darren Nicholson
Hometown: Canton, North Carolina
Song: “All Trains Come to Pass”
Album: Lonesome Trails and Tall Tales
Release Date: May 1, 2026
Label: Mountain Home Music Company

In Their Words: “‘All Trains Come to Pass’ is a barn-burner! It was written by Thomm Jutz, Charles Humphrey III, and myself. The song speaks metaphorically about the passing of time and how important it is to live in every moment. Breathe it in. The band is kicking on this one, and it was so much fun to record! We hope you enjoy listening to it as much as we did creating it.” – Darren Nicholson

Track Credits:
Darren Nicholson – Mandolin, lead vocal
Kristin Scott Benson – Banjo
Mark Fain – Upright bass
David Johnson – Acoustic guitar
Tony Creasman – Drums
Deanie Richardson – Fiddle
Kevin Sluder – Harmony vocal
Avery Welter – Harmony vocal
Jennifer Nicholson – Harmony vocal


Orange Oak, “well, well, well”

Artist: Orange Oak
Hometown: Stockholm, Sweden
Song: “well, well, well”
Album: almost, I thought to myself
Release Date: May 1, 2026 (song); September 11, 2026 (album)
Label: Nettwerk Music Group

In Their Words: “This song explores the struggles of confronting yourself after a period of avoidance and inner conflict. It moves between self-criticism and a quiet desire for change; realizing escape is no longer sustainable. There’s tension between wanting control and accepting vulnerability. There’s strain in letting go of anger and returning to life with a new sense of honesty. At its core, ‘well, well, well’ is about self-reflection, reconciliation, and finding the courage to begin again and again and again.” – Filippa Frisell and Erik Olsson, Orange Oak


Helen O’Shea, “There Will Be Days”

Artist: Helen O’Shea
Hometown: Born in Limerick, Ireland; living in Long Branch, New Jersey
Song: “There Will Be Days”
Album: Songs In The Key Of O
Release Date: May 1, 2026
Label: White Butterfly Music

In Their Words: “The song ‘There Will Be Days’ started out in a conversation between Caroline Carlile and myself. She was starting out as a young artist with tremendous potential and I was telling her that there will be days when she feels the world is against her, but that is exactly when she must let her starlight shine through. First this line became a poem and then Caroline and I decided to write a song about it together, with help from Jay Carlile and Marc Swersky. The result is this beautiful duet between Caroline and myself with Jay on harmonica and the Carlile Family Band on backing vocals against the music of Andrew Carillo (Joan Osborne), Rob Clores (Jesse Malin), and Aaron Comess (Spin Doctors).” – Helen O’Shea

Track Credits:
Helen O’Shea – Vocals, songwriter
Caroline Carlile – Vocals, songwriter
The Carlile Family Band – Background vocals
Marc Swersky – Producer, songwriter
Andrew Carillo – Guitars
Rob Clores – Keys
Aaron Comess – Drums
Jay Carlile – Harmonica, songwriter

Video Credits: Story & Bone


Margo Price, “Rita Ballou”

Artist: Margo Price
Song: “Rita Ballou”
Album: Old No. 1 Revisited
Release Date: May 1, 2026
Label: Truly Handmade Records

In Their Words: “Many years ago, I was lucky enough to find Guy’s Clark’s perfectly crafted album, Old No. 1, while shuffling through the jukebox at the Devil’s Backbone Tavern in Fischer, Texas. His fingerpicking and storytelling on ‘Rita Ballou’ pulled me in. And I was hooked.

“Guy’s a carpenter in every sense of the word and every song he builds is ornate, solid, and reliable. It’s an honor to interpret his songwriting for this tribute, alongside producer and guitar virtuoso Dan Knobler, harmonies by my talented bandmate Logan Ledger, and the incredible, top-tier musicians that played on this track.” – Margo Price

“Margo Price was the immediate and obvious choice to extol the charms of ‘Rita Ballou.’ These songs do the work, all we have to do is cast them appropriately. So in that spirit I appointed the tracking room at Good Wishes with a proverbial joy carnival of musicians: octopus double drums from Jamie Dick and Dom Billett, powerhouse Jen Gunderman at the keys, the legend Russ Pahl walking into the studio with his steel on his shoulder, Will Honaker holding it down on bass, me strumming and picking. Margo stood out on the floor with us and nailed the song to the wall. Logan Ledger and Nicki Bluhm provided the backup choruses and a good time was had by all.” – Dan Knobler, producer

Track Credits:
Margo Price – Vocals
Logan Ledger – Harmony vocal
Nicki Bluhm – Harmony vocal
Maya de Vitry – Additional harmony vocals
Rachael Davis – Additional harmony vocals
Dan Knobler – Acoustic guitars, electric guitar
Jen Gunderman – Piano, organ, Wurlitzer
Russ Pahl – Pedal steel
Will Honaker – Bass
Jamie Dick – Drums, percussion
Dom Billett – Drums, percussion


Bryan Sutton, “Don’t Let Your Deal Go Down” with Tommy Emmanuel

Artist: Bryan Sutton with Tommy Emmanuel
Hometown: Nashville, Tennessee
Song: “Don’t Let Your Deal Go Down”
Album: From Roots to Branches
Release Date: May 1, 2026 (single)
Label: Mountain Home Music Company

In Their Words: “[Tommy is] another guy that’s just been gracious to me over the years… a big pal and he’s a big energy. Every time he sees me, you just get all of his attention … he’s a wonderful friend and a lovely dude. Certainly, the world knows how strong a musician he is, but you know, the choice for that song, something with energy, that sort of comes from more of a bluegrass background. Those chord changes lend a little more to the swing and jazz world, and that’s where he and I have spent a lot of time playing other songs together.

“I was a partner on his duet record some years ago. We did ‘C Jam Blues’ and some other swing music like that. Trying to choose songs that sort of honor a certain angle of our relationship, musically, so that mix of bluegrass and jazz and swing is where Tommy Emmanuel and I find some common ground.” – Bryan Sutton

Track Credits:
Bryan Sutton – Acoustic guitar, lead vocal
Tommy Emmanuel – Acoustic guitar, vocal


Photo Credit: Margo Price by Yana Yatsuk; Darren Nicholson by Jeff Smith.

The Mythology and Alchemy of Thomm Jutz

Thomm Jutz has worked with a wide cast of characters since moving to Nashville in the early 2000s – John Prine, Nanci Griffith, Todd Snider, Billy Strings, and the SteelDrivers’ Tammy Rogers. But on his latest record, Ring-A-Bellin’, he strived to capture each song with the smallest musical unit possible.

The result of the 18-track album, released April 3, is a distinctly timeless vibe that feels just as much rooted to the present day as it does the mid-1900s or Civil War era, due to its recurring themes of history, mythology, and working with your hands. From self improvement (“Sharpen Your Knife”) to using natural disaster as a metaphor for perseverance (“Holy Mother Mountain”), the mastery that comes with time (“The Hammer And The Anvil”) and becoming more grounded in yourself (“Settle Me Down”), the GRAMMY-nominated transplant from Germany waxes philosophical and takes listeners back to a period long before we walked the Earth.

According to Jutz, the approach – recording with only a small group of people all in the same room not wearing headphones – is his way of replicating the process for how musicians would’ve recorded a century ago.

“This is how I want to make music right now,” he declares. “I don’t want to make a layered record – not because there’s anything wrong with that, it’s just not what I’m feeling at the moment. It’s like saying I don’t want to use red in my paintings right now, because I’ve used enough of it already.”

During a lengthy conversation with BGS at his Belmont office on Music Row, Jutz spoke about his concept of home, how psychology and mythology informed Ring-A-Bellin’, and a companion book that takes listeners even further into the world of his 18 new songs.

You’re releasing this album with a companion book. Tell me a little about what’s inside and why you decided to adopt this approach?

Thomm Jutz: It’s more and more important to create some kind of parallel narrative to the music nowadays. Vinyl has seen a resurgence over the last couple years, but it is not practical for me to take on my one trip to Europe every year. Because of that, I wanted to create something that was still a larger format, fun to hold, and had all the liner notes present without being something so small it’s hard to read.

I’ve also always enjoyed writing and reading – especially during my last 10 years as an instructor at Belmont – so I wanted to articulate some of those thoughts as they relate to the songs on this record in a longer form. When I got to working on it I quickly realized I was in over my head with the graphic design aspect of it, so I consulted my friend Gina Meredith. I just told her what I wanted artwork for and commissioned various folks to create pieces for each song. But rather than tell them what to make, I just sent them the music and had them use the songs as their creative prompts. Because of that I don’t always see the linear connection between the songs and the graphics that were made, but that’s also my favorite part.

A lot of my thoughts on this record revolve around analytic and Jungian psychology, alchemy and things like that, which are difficult to talk about in a tiny CD booklet, so I wanted to do something that allowed for a more longform format.

Overall, this record has a timeless feel – it could be (and is) from 2026, but if I didn’t know any better I wouldn’t second guess if someone told me it was from the mid-1900s or Civil War era as well, especially songs like “Sharpen Your Knife” and “The Hammer And The Anvil.” What are your thoughts on the vibe you were able to conjure up here?

I’m a traditionalist at heart, so everything I do is always trying to bring something new to the way I perceive what came before us, whether that’s lyrically, thematically, or in the recording process – which in this case was mostly all done live. I just think there tends to be more mystery with that music. There’s new music that does that too, but it’s easier for me to find that in old music because the cultural context can be studied since it’s not as close to my own lived experience. No matter how much I listen to or read about Charley Patton, I’ll never understand what he fully experienced because I was never there.

Regarding the songs you mentioned, both talk about people working with their hands, but they’re also metaphors for working on yourself – like you are the hammer, you are the anvil, you are the iron that’s being forged. Those mantras are rooted in human thought and analytical psychology, which is something I’ve dealt with and thought about a lot over the last 15 years. Particularly in terms of how mythology and history go together, and how understood the former is.

On one hand, some people think a myth is a lie and others say a myth is a fact, but both are wrong. A myth is a metaphor and must be understood as one. These songs are an effort to create a mythological framework that is a mirror image of my development as a person and artist. If you ever want to develop as an artist, you must develop as a person first.

With so much of this record wrapped up in concepts like history, psychology, and mythology, what’s the timeline for bringing the 18 songs on it to life?

These songs came from a period of about three years, but when I started I wasn’t setting out to make a record – I just wanted to experiment with a couple things. I had a few songs that I co-wrote with my friend Adam Wright that I wanted to test out with only me singing and playing and Mark Fain on bass. And it worked out really well. As I got fascinated with that process I began looking through my catalog and noticed that the songs which spoke to me the most were all ones that formed a narrative arc.

However, it’s not an autobiographical record that says, “I was born here,” “I did this,” and “This is how it made me feel.” But more so, one that explores spiritual development. I’m not interested in autobiographical songwriting. I find it very claustrophobic how you have to spell everything out to the listener. When you do that you’re shutting them out with nothing to do, which has me opting for a more open approach. A song is only ever truly finished when the listener interprets it for themselves, not with what the person who wrote it intended.

One of the songs on Ring-A-Bellin’ that is tied to more recent events is “Holy Mother Mountain,” which was inspired by the fallout of Hurricane Helene, specifically in Western North Carolina. But it’s also a metaphor for overcoming adversity. Care to explain?

That song is a good example of how writing with someone else – in this case Mando Saenz – can profoundly shape an idea. I remember Helene happening and having this line “Holy Mother Mountain” appear to me out of nowhere. From then on I couldn’t stop thinking about it, so I brought it to a writing session with him and said I didn’t know what to do with it. Then the co-writing dance ensued, with him taking the lead, followed by me for a bit, until it started becoming much clearer that there was no way to move forward without it being about Hurricane Helene somehow.

While it was inspired by that, the song is also about overcoming adversity and understanding that it’s going to happen again. Just because you live through Helene doesn’t mean there’s not another storm coming right behind it. If that storm showed us anything, it’s that perceived climate safety in Appalachia is not true. Also, “mother” and “mountain” are not just a nice alliteration, but there’s also a feminine quality about a mountain. An inverted mountain is a valley – or a place you can seek refuge in – and if you go on top of a mountain, you might find yourself closer to some kind of spiritual awareness.

The song is much more a collection of images that relate to the archetypal images of mother and mountain. Maybe even the word “holy” in the title has something to do with the fact of how little modernity treats nature with respect. Maybe that’s what we need to do – not bring offerings, but bring out attention to it instead of riding around and abusing it like crazy.

On “Too Many Walls” you sing about the idea of home. Given that you moved to the states 25 years ago from Germany, what is “home” to you?

Home and time are two of the biggest themes we write about, and it’s longing that connects the two – longing for home, longing to belong somewhere, longing to live in a different period of time, longing to get over something. Over the last couple years, I’ve also started thinking more about how strange a thing it is to build a house, because you’re just enclosing space that’s been there all along. You’re building and calling it something that wasn’t there before, but the land was always there. It’s a strange construct, and at the same time we need shelter.

From an early age I didn’t feel at home where I was because I longed for a place where music was part of the everyday lived experience. But in Germany after 1945 that was completely out of the picture, because the Nazi regime had completely and absurdly abused any sense of folklore. Since I was longing for an environment where people played music, I went to Ireland for the first time with my wife when I was 18 since it was much closer than coming [to the United States], which we couldn’t afford at the time. I was amazed by the music coming out of the pubs there – it felt so natural, like it was rising out of the Earth.

That fascination carried over into my love of American roots music. In that sense, “home” is where I feel connected to a place through music since that’s my main way of expressing myself. Additionally, southwestern Appalachia and the Black Forest that I’m from in Germany can look astonishingly similar sometimes, so when I go back to visit my parents I occasionally feel like I’m navigating the mountains around Johnson City, [Tennessee]. When I’m in Johnson City I sometimes imagine I’m back in Germany. But Appalachia has more importance to me now because it’s where I live and long to be. If it weren’t for all the writing I do in Nashville and my work at Belmont, I’d be in Appalachia fulltime, because it just speaks to me. When I haven’t been in a while I can start feeling something deep inside me – it’s not a heaviness, but a feeling of “I just really wanna fucking go.” [Laughs]

What has bringing this record to life taught you about yourself?

It’s taught me that I know nothing about graphic design and should always let someone else handle that instead. [Laughs]

In all seriousness, it has taught me that while I don’t consider myself a great singer, I can still enjoy the way I deliver a song if I do it correctly. It’s also taught me that while I have great deficiencies as a guitar player, I do enjoy the way I play guitar and this record, where I’m keenly aware of everything wrong with my playing. Even Tony Rice said that about his playing.

It’s not a sense of having completed my journey as a guitar player, but quite the opposite. It’s more like I’m aware of what’s missing. It’s also taught me that staying on the path of creating and writing a lot. You have to be in it for the long game in today’s environment and be doing it for the right reasons or you’ll run yourself ragged. I already understood that a little bit, but now I understand it even better. Maybe that’s what it’s all about – gaining a little awareness and moving on.


Photo Credit: Don VanCleave

The Other 22 Hours: Derek Trucks

What happens to the creative spirit when you have been a professional “lifer” since the age of nine? Derek Trucks, widely considered one of the greatest guitarists of all time and a veteran of the Allman Brothers Band and Eric Clapton’s touring lineup, joins the Other 22 Hours to discuss longevity and leading a 12-piece musical circus. with his Tedeschi Trucks Band co-founder and wife, Susan Tedeschi. We explore the gradual shift from student to teacher, the grounding force of a musical marriage, and the essential practice of “turning the crops” to stay inspired.

LISTEN: APPLE • SPOTIFY • AMAZON • MP3

In This Episode:

Tedeschi Trucks Band
Allman Brothers Band
The Beacon Theater
Eric Clapton
Kofi Burbridge
John Lee Hooker
Koko Taylor
Ace Moreland
Colonel Bruce Hampton
Buddy Guy
Joe Walsh
Gregg Allman
Jim Scott
Tom Dowd
A Love Supreme
– Krishnamurti
Mad Dogs & Englishman (movie)

Go Deeper:

Watch: View this entire conversation above or on YouTube.
Explore: Find similar conversations in these themed playlists.
Connect: Join the conversation on Instagram.

The Other 22 Hours is hosted by Aaron Shafer-Haiss (producer, mixer, musician) and Michaela Anne (songwriter, artist, creative coach). More about Aaron’s workMore about Michaela Anne’s work.


Produced by Aaron Shafer-Haiss. Original music written, performed and produced by Aaron Shafer-Haiss.

Photo Credit: Chapman Baehler

Tedeschi Trucks Band Have Done It Again

When it comes to entirely enjoyable, technically exquisite modern blues, Southern rock, and jam-band soul albums, Tedeschi Trucks Band have a statistically impossible batting average. Their new LP, Future Soul (released March 20 via Fantasy Records), is yet another “no skips” collection from the megalithic 12-person Americana group fronted by husband-and-wife guitarist Derek Trucks and guitarist-vocalist Susan Tedeschi.

On that strength of their catalog – and their ensemble – TTB have amassed hundreds of millions of streams, won eight Blues Music Awards and one GRAMMY, and a handful of their songs have become regarded as modern standards in the Americana and American roots music songbook.

Future Soul simultaneously feels like a surprising departure and familiar, essential territory for the band. With Mike Elizondo producing and songs and creative input sourced from across the group’s lineup, the set ends up sounding and feeling more acoustic than “usual,” while still reaching roaring crescendos and building it all on dank, wide open grooves. Perhaps those acoustic moments are a substantial contributing factor as well, but the cozy, plush pocket of the album is what gives it a laid-back, relaxed, and floating vibe no matter the track’s genre construction.

Screaming slide, no-holds-barred vocals, and wall-of-sound climaxes can all be found herein, as well. But the collection never thrashes or flails, it’s precise and exacting – as Tedeschi and Trucks are both known to be on their instruments, whether guitar or voice – but it’s certainly not sterile or gated or homogenized, either. It’s another remarkable feat for a group so large that you would almost have to assume, live or in studio, musical mud would be an inevitable byproduct.

But no, TTB seem to have no misses, at least not on Future Soul. It’s clear this group works together in harmony not just because of the down-to-earth and collaborative leadership of Tedeschi and Trucks, but because the artistic and musical responsibilities and ownership – of the songs themselves, of the album, of the makings of each, of “success” for the band – are decentralized and distributed throughout the group. The band has a sound, an art, that is consistently collective in the way it’s received by audiences and listeners because, forgive the obviousness, Tedeschi Trucks Band always work as a collective.

In our BGS conversation with Derek Trucks, the magic and unlikelihood of this creative dynamic and the processes by which the band continues to rack up success after success were on full display. We spoke about how they put together Future Soul as a group effort, the many inputs that went into Trucks fashioning his lyrical guitar style, and what bluegrass means to him personally, to Tedeschi, and the band as a whole. It was a joy-filled, passion-led conversation that again reinforced how this wailin’, rockin’, rollin’ band continues to flout and subvert expectations – and thereby has become so beloved.

Something that jumped out at me from the bio about the new album is that you say, “There’s just not a weak spot on this record.” I have to say, I totally agree. I think it’s remarkable that with a 12-person band and such a diverse catalog of recordings and releases, it really doesn’t seem like there’s any “fat” to trim or any duds to cull.

I have to ask, does it feel as magical on the inside of that process as it seems from the outside? It seems unlikely that y’all would work so well together towards a common goal, artistically, and be able to deliver again and again and again. And I don’t just mean commercially, awards-wise, or for audiences alone. Clearly you’re delivering artistically for yourselves and by your own standards, as well. So, does it feel as unlikely on the inside of that process as it maybe does to us on the outside looking in? [Both laugh]

Derek Trucks: That’s awesome. But it does, man! I mean, not every record you do feels the same way. They’re all their own beasts. For I Am The Moon, it was in a time of great uncertainty. We did four records and it was just kind of a heavy, heavy time – and that record feels like that.

This one felt completely different. The band felt much more confident [and] had been touring for two years straight. We had been playing so much together that when we finally got the core of the group up to our farm in Georgia to do some writing, there were a few songs right out of the gate. Like “Future Soul” and “Who Am I,” where immediately, Sue started singing, Gabe [Dixon] started singing these melodies. I got chills and I was like, “Oh, this is gonna be good.”

You’re always kind of worried about running out of ideas, or running out of runway – like a thing in the back of your head. But I feel like we’re incredibly fortunate where, when we’re together, everyone puts everything they have into it. Then, when we’re not on the road together, everyone’s all doing their own things musically. So, when we come back together, there’s a lot to talk about and a lot of music to remember together.

I think it keeps it really fresh and it keeps it moving forward. I feel like everyone’s out honing their craft when they’re away from this. When they come back, there’s a lot of new ground to cover. So far, we’ve been really, really lucky that way. And there’s a handful of just incredible songwriters in the band, so everybody comes in with two or three ideas. You’ve got a pretty strong record right out of the gate. That’s been something that I think me and Sue are just realizing – we’ve known how amazing that is but, you know, Gabe and Mike [Mattison], they show up with some serious ideas.

Then having Mike [Elizondo, the album’s producer] down, just some outside ears – I think that was really important. Sonically, he was trying some different things that I think inspired the band and made everybody play a little differently. That was exciting.

I was struck by the range of styles and the different genre infusions that y’all have put into this collection. What really stuck out to me, listening down to the project in one fell swoop, is there are still those really big energetic moments – and there are still those “wall of sound” moments that y’all are really known for. But I felt like this album is chill and laid-back in a way; it feels deep in the pocket. Can you talk about capturing those seemingly disconnected energies together?

I think one of the things is that with a band or an artist, I think if you’re maturing properly – we learn sometimes slowly – that you don’t have to force the issue all the time. You can trust things around you a little bit more, and sometimes the groove is enough. Sometimes the chord changes are enough, sometimes the melodies are enough. It doesn’t have to be these epic moments at all times. So when they do come, you’re excited about it and wrings you out. Then you lay them back down, and then you go on another little trip.

I think the band, having played together so much, we’re in a different place that way, where we realize that you don’t have to force the issue on every song. You can go to different spaces, different places. And then, again, having some outside ears – Elizondo really helps with that, too. He helps guide you to places that maybe you wouldn’t have gone naturally, so that’s a fun thing. Then you learn things about yourself musically in the band that you didn’t know before. That’s always a good place to be.

One thing that I’ve been obsessed with about your playing, specifically, ever since I discovered you as a teenager, is how lyrical of a guitar player you are. It jumped out at me from the bio, as well, when you’re talking about “I Got You” and how you’re doing a guitar-voice dialogue instead of guitar-guitar. I think of you as one of the most lyrical guitarists out there. You’re so present and so grounded. So I’ve always wanted to ask you how you’ve cultivated that style – as well as being able to have those moments of pure shreddy, lick-y wailing.

Then hearing that you really wanted to make that connection between voice and guitar on this album made so much sense to me, because I’m always thinking about how you’re a lyrical player. And Susan is, too, and you both dialogue with your instruments, and her voice, often.

Pretty early on I had a few musical epiphanies. One was Allen Woody, who played with Gov’t Mule and the Allman Brothers. When we toured with my solo band, opening for a Gov’t Mule in the early days, he would always turn me on to records. He gave me this CD by this guy named Aubrey Ghent, who was a gospel [steel] player. I put on “Amazing Grace” and I was like, “Wow, what an amazing voice.” And then I heard the pick and I realized that it was this guy playing lap steel! But it sounded like a woman singing. I got chills [over] my whole body, and I was like, “That’s it, that’s the thing.”

I had been listening to a lot of Indian classical music – a lot of vocalists and sarod players. Me and our old [Derek Trucks Band] bass player, Todd Smallie, went to Ali Akbar College of Music in San Rafael, [California] and they would let us sit in on classes. I realized he [Ali Akbar Khan] made all the instrumentalists take vocal classes, because his whole thing was that you should be singing through your instrument. So that made it just really obvious.

Those were a few of the things, and then there was a long time where I just stopped listening to any guitar player. It was only singers and horn players. That was kind of the idea [that] musical ideas can come from anywhere, but you really should be singing the thing. There’s time for all of it, but the stuff that moves me the most is, you know – even hearing Duane Allman on “Blue Sky” or something. It sounds like somebody’s singing, like somebody is walking down the road whistling. I think those are probably the touchstones for me.

Maybe I am projecting a little bit, because I’ve been a bluegrass banjo player my whole life – I started playing when I was seven. But when I think of guitarists, especially who end up reaching the pinnacle – whatever that is – or especially in flatpicking and in bluegrass, there tends to be this homogeneity of style. The people who get to the “very top” end up all sounding like each other. Then you have those folks that really stand out, and it tends to be because they’re using space and using air as much as they’re using 16th notes and 32nd notes. I think, being used to really shreddy flatpicking, that hearing steel or slide or blues guitar or jazz or acoustic jazz, anything plays with sustain and plays with space, I just drink it up.

Beautiful, man. I remember the first time I heard the Stanley Brothers, or Ralph Stanley, and I just remember it hit me in that place where those early blues guys hit me. There was just something about it. That kind of cracked that whole world open for me. I mean, I was always a Tony Rice fan. We have the same birthday, so I thought that was cool.

No way, I didn’t know that.

And I remember being at a MerleFest years ago, I think it was one of the last ones that Doc played. I remember seeing this old Oldsmobile or Cadillac – I don’t know, it seemed like an 1980s or ‘90s car – it pulled up to the stage and I see Tony Rice get out, just dressed to the nines. He pops the trunk, gets his guitar, hits the stage, and then right when that set was over, he was back in that car! I was over there thinking, “What a boss.” It was incredible, man. He went up and just annihilated everybody and got back in his car and drove his ass home. Pretty incredible.

So funny.

The last time we talked to you for the site, you were Artist of the Month in 2019 and you talked about Del McCoury and Jerry Douglas. I know you’ve played DelFest a bunch, you’ve collaborated with Billy Strings – oh, and I was super excited to see Molly Tuttle supporting on a couple dates of your TTB tour in April, too.

Yeah, we’re excited for that. That’s gonna be great.

What does bluegrass mean to you? Obviously, there’s Ralph Stanley, Tony Rice – there are pickers and makers in bluegrass that are infused into what you do, but what does the genre mean to you more broadly? And who in the space right now inspires you, or your musical vocabulary, or what you guys are doing in the band?

When I think of American music, I think of blues, I think of bluegrass, and I think of jazz. I think [those are] the things that we’ve really contributed to the world. To me, those are the cornerstones of it.

We’ve become good friends with Sturgill [Simpson] over the years, and he’s dipped into that [bluegrass] place. When I hear him sing it I’m like, “Oh yep, that’s because he’s from there.” He’s from the heart of it, and it makes me feel the way Ralph Stanley does at times. Even guys like Tyler Childers – and Sue’s a big Sierra Ferrell fan. She loves all those records.

That music, even the current guys, it’s always playing around here. I don’t know, it just feels inspiring to hear. People just get on an acoustic instrument and rip one. You’re like, “Oh yeah! There’s still people that know how to do things!” [Laughs]

That’s the big inspiration I take from it. Because [in the music industry] there’s a lot of cutting corners, and that’s a music that there’s no cutting corners. You gotta put your time in and take your licks or you’re just not gonna get on stage. I appreciate not just the dexterity, but the vocabulary and the heart that goes into it.

And there’s just something about seeing a group around one microphone just doing the dance that I think is always inspiring. We’ve done some shows recently with Sam Grisman, we did a benefit [for Camp Winnarainbow] out in San Francisco. Peter Rowan was on it, and me and Sue, and it was all acoustics. I had an old National, and just getting to play with that group – just the way that group felt. Sitting on a stool with a Dobro, and they were coming and going around the microphone. And then, getting to hang after the show with Peter Rowan and him telling these stories, man. It was just incredibly inspiring. Some of the songs that we got to play with them – that dude [David “Dawg” Grisman] has written some incredible music. That was one of the highlights of last year. It was pretty damn incredible.

There’s a lot of acoustics on this new album, too. I did find myself wondering, and maybe I’m biased, but does the world need a 12-piece bluegrass band? It might! It might! [Laughs]

Man, that sounds pretty fun to me. I mean, it would be a lot less gear to carry on the road! Which would make it more plausible.[Laughs]

If you wanted to speedrun pissing off a fan base, this might be the way to do it.

[Laughs] Yes, alright, we will be thinking about this! I’m gonna go talk to Sue.

This next one is kind of for me, so I thank you in advance for humoring me. But I wanted to talk to you about Jack Pearson. When I first moved to town, I just met this guy out jamming on mandolin at these bluegrass jams. I’d be like, “Man, this guy’s so nice.” He’s a great picker. He’s a great singer. I got a lot of practice playing swing with him at jams in town. Then folks started being like, “Hey, do you know who that is?” Oh my god, I did not know who it was. He was just my bluegrass jam pal. Then I worked at the Station Inn for a few years and I got to work a bunch of his trio shows. I’d die for the solo acoustic sets he’d do on the set break.

Incredible.

If I were to list maybe my top 5 favorite guitarists of all time, I feel like you and Jack would both be on that list. So I wanted to have a little nerdy moment to talk about Jack. [Laughs] Can you talk about his playing and your guys’ friendship? Of course, I see so many connections between your musical vocabularies and that lyrical style we were talking about.

Yeah, man I need to check up on him. It’s been a minute. I need to check in on old Jackie P.

He’s a monster, man. He’s one of the few people that can actually go play in a straight-ahead jazz band, in a bluegrass band, and then the Allman Brothers. I mean, maybe the only person that can actually do it.

I totally agree.

I mean, he played with Jimmy Smith. This dude is like, he’s an absolute monster. And a sweet fella! You can’t say enough good things. When I joined the Allman Brothers, Jack was just leaving. So all the tapes I got, like learning the new versions of the tunes, were Jack Pearson tapes. At the time, Bud Snyder was the sound man. He would mix these tapes for me with Jack really boosted in the mix. I could hear exactly what he was doing to learn these things. I got an intimate take on the way Jack was approaching these Allman tunes. It was so unique.

There’s no one [that] plays like him, and [his playing is] about as smooth as it gets. Sometimes, you watch him play – and I know he plays really light strings and he plays low action – and the way his hands move, I’ve never seen anyone play quite like that. Then he busts out a slide and you’re like, “Holy shit! This dude can do anything!” [Laughs]

I know!

He’s one of the unsung heroes. There’s no doubt about it.

He does this thing – and you do this as well – where you’re able to leverage that really gritty, aggressive, absolutely on-the-razor’s-edge style that comes with blues and Southern rock and Americana. Then at the same time, like you’re saying, with light strings and low action, still has such a deft touch. Yet he has such great attack and precision and cleanliness. He is a great lesson in taste. His taste is impeccable.

Yeah, I think that’s exactly it. I think we forget a lot of the time that most of what we love about music is the musician’s taste. I mean, you got to put in the work – and Jack has obviously done that, that dude is a master. But his taste is really as good as anybody.

I think he’s probably a bigger influence on me than I even realized. Probably because of that early Allman Brothers time for me. I was jumping in at 20 years old, 21 years old. And all of a sudden it’s, “Here’s 60 songs to learn, and rehearsal/tryout is in a few weeks. I was like, “Well, give me those dates.”

I’m stressed just hearing about that.

I mean, luckily most of that music I had listened to my whole life, but I had never bothered to learn any of them. I mean, I knew “One Way Out” and “Statesboro [Blues],” that doesn’t take long. It was all the other shit!


Photo Credit: Chapman Baehler

You Gotta Hear This: New Music From River Shook, Bryan Sutton, and More

It’s another edition of our weekly collection of new roots music! You Gotta Hear This…

To get us started, singer-songwriter Jenn Grinels is giving us a preview of her upcoming single, “Always On The Run,” which will arrive next week. The track combines Californian indie twang with straight-ahead country & western and a gothic twist. While Grinels is an accomplished songwriter herself, in this instance she composed the music while the evocative, text-painting lyrics were penned by Alfred Howard, a poet and musician. We’re also very excited for new music from River Shook, who you may know from their prior project, Sarah Shook & the Disarmers. Their new roots-folk single, “Wildlands,” is actually a song begun more than 10 years ago – and in a completely different set of circumstances. Shook completed the song channeling feelings from their recent shift from the Disarmers to this new era, performing and releasing music solo, under their own name. With this track, we’re certainly looking forward to what comes next from Shook.

In bluegrass, Lonesome River Band pull a song seen performed by Stringbean (David Akeman) on The Porter Wagoner Show for their new single. “Pretty Little Widow” is hilarious and first rate, even employing an all-too-rare traditional bluegrass instrument, the Telecaster. Its twangy punctuations are a perfect addition to the single, out today. Acclaimed guitarists Bryan Sutton and Kenny Smith also launch a track today, “Three Star Hornpipe,” from Sutton’s upcoming album of six-string duets. Sutton and Smith’s decades-long friendship is easy to hear on the relaxed and loping modern fiddle tune.

There are a couple of great cover songs included today, too. Nashville-based artist Sweet Megg shares her new video for her most recent single, “Come On Up to the House,” her interpretation of the Tom Waits classic. She was inspired by her own family homeplace, a literal and figurative refuge where she grew up in New York City. Plus, after a lifetime of playing sets of cover songs, Jessie Wilson finally releases a cover – and it’s none other than Dolly Parton’s “Jolene.” A failsafe choice for a first cover release, Wilson’s take on the iconic favorite has a deep pocket, head-bobbing feel changes, and bluegrass instruments tucked into every one of the track’s nooks and crannies.

We hope you enjoy these songs as much as we have. You Gotta Hear This!

Jenn Grinels, “Always On The Run”

Artist: Jenn Grinels
Hometown: Originally Cupertino, California; currently working out of New York City
Song: “Always On The Run”
Release Date: April 10, 2026

In Their Words: “This song is a collaboration, with lyrics by Alfred Howard and music by me. I’ve always admired Al’s poetry, spoken word, and lyricism, so when he first reached out about collaborating, I was thrilled. These were the first lyrics he sent me – of many songs we ended up working on together – and when I read them, I was instantly inspired. The songwriting process was so quick, which definitely doesn’t always happen, and that ease ended up inspiring and setting the tone for the rest of the record.

“The imagery in Al’s writing naturally leant itself to this western feel that carries throughout the album – and a lot of that is rooted in the desert landscapes of Southern California that inspire him.

“At its heart, the song is about endless ambition – and the exhaustion that can come with it. We’re always reaching for our dreams, both of us having spent so many years in this business, constantly chasing that setting sun – and to metaphorically walk into it. It’s special to work with someone who’s in a similar place in life. He can write something deeply personal that I immediately connect to, and that sparks something in me musically.” – Jenn Grinels

Track Credits:
Jenn Grinels – Vocals, acoustic guitar, composer
Alfred Howard – Lyricist
Mike Butler – Guitars, lap steel, percussion, producer, engineer
Jason Littlefield – Bass
Jake Najor – Drums


Lonesome River Band, “Pretty Little Widow”

Artist: Lonesome River Band
Hometown: Floyd, Virginia
Song: “Pretty Little Widow”
Release Date: April 3, 2026
Label: Mountain Home Music Company

In Their Words: “Jesse [Smathers] brought this song to our attention from a video of Stringbean on The Porter Wagoner Show from the 1960s. We all love Stringbean’s music, and it was a song I had not heard before. He was backed by Porter’s country band and the electric guitar had a great part in the song. So it was an obvious choice of tunes for this project. Rod Riley on the Tele captures the vintage sound of that era of country music.” – Sammy Shelor

Track Credits:
Sammy Shelor – Banjo
Jesse Smathers – Acoustic, lead vocal
Mike Hartgrove – Fiddle
Adam Miller – Mandolin, harmony vocal
Kameron Keller – Upright bass
Rod Riley – Electric guitar


Bryan Sutton, “Three Star Hornpipe” with Kenny Smith

Artist: Bryan Sutton with Kenny Smith
Hometown: Nashville, Tennessee
Song: “Three Star Hornpipe”
Album: From Roots to Branches
Release Date: April 3, 2026 (single)
Label: Mountain Home Music Company

In Their Words: “I met Kenny when I first moved to Nashville. He had been there already a few years and was living down there near Wartrace, Tennessee, doing some work with Gallagher. And I forget exactly where I might have met him, but I was probably around the Station Inn or one of the music stores in Nashville. I went down and hung out with him. I had a guitar that I had some questions about and wanted to show it to him – you know, some structural issues – and he took a look at it and we played a little bit and I’ve just known him ever since. This is the early ’90s, over 30 years ago, and I just maintained a friendship with him all through these years.

“I’ve always loved the way Kenny is reverential towards fiddle tunes when he plays. He really finds that sweet spot of his guitar artistry, but you hear the melodies – he’s playing the tune and presenting the melody. I found this old song, ‘Three Star Hornpipe,’ that I’d heard from a fiddler named Roger Howell here in Western North Carolina. Tommy Hunter had recorded it years and years ago. I found an original recording and sent it to Kenny and went like, ‘What do you think? Here’s a tune that neither of us have ever played.’ Again, I didn’t necessarily want to do an obvious, low-hanging fruit kind of fiddle tune. So here was a newer tune and he was game to do it. That’s how we got into that tune, and I just love what he did with it.” – Bryan Sutton

Track Credits:
Bryan Sutton – Acoustic guitar
Kenny Smith – Acoustic guitar


River Shook, “Wildlands”

Artist: River Shook
Hometown: Chapel Hill, North Carolina
Song: “Wildlands”
Release Date: April 3, 2026

In Their Words: “I started writing ‘Wildlands’ when I was seeing a deeply controlling, scary person. One summer day, I snuck out of the house and went to the Haw River to clear my head. I sat writing at the water’s edge, feeling brave for the first time in years, and when I got back home, I hid the piece of paper with the lyrics deep in my closet. Nothing came of the song for almost a decade.

“Last year, when I decided to end my band (Sarah Shook & the Disarmers) and start over under my new name (River Shook), those old feelings came rushing back – fear, bravery, clarity, strength – and I remembered ‘Wildlands.’ I kept the original first verse, reworked the other two, and wrote a new chorus. Releasing this song is such a beautiful full-circle moment in my life. I feel so lucky to share ‘Wildlands’ with you.” – River Shook

Track Credits:
River Shook – Vocals, acoustic guitar, electric guitar, songwriter, producer
Blake Tallent – Drums, bass, acoustic guitar, electric guitar, pedal steel, harmonica, percussion, producer

Video Credits: Samantha Kniskern


Sweet Megg, “Come On Up To the House”

Artist: Sweet Megg
Hometown: New York City; based in Nashville, Tennessee
Song: “Come On Up To the House” (Tom Waits cover)
Album: Massive Negroni
Release Date: April 1, 2026 (single); May 1, 2026 (album)

In Their Words:  “When I heard this song, it reminded me of home – not just a place, but a feeling. My family came from Ireland in the 1920s and settled in the house where my mother grew up and where I grew up too. That house holds so many memories of family and friends. It’s a sacred space.

“When the world feels like it’s on fire, I can step inside and enter another dimension of peace and tranquility. That’s what home can be. This song by Tom Waits carries that feeling for me. It’s an invitation, a prayer I offer to others: when the world is getting you down, come on up.” – Sweet Megg

Track Credits:
Sweet Megg – Vocals
Hunter Strasser – Guitar
Norbert McGettigan – Bass
Chris Gelb – Drums

Video Credits: Filmed and edited by Matthew Farrell.


Jessie Wilson, “Jolene”

Artist: Jessie Wilson
Hometown: Phenix City, Alabama
Song: “Jolene”
Album: Rebel & Reverie (EP)
Release Date: April 3, 2026 (EP)

In Their Words: “As a girl who has played hundreds of cover shows in my lifetime, I’ve never actually released a cover song. I play ‘Jolene’ frequently at my live shows and we perform it a bit different. We play the choruses in double time and the verses in a half time, giving it our own spin.

“I recorded this version after jumping in a session with musicians I hadn’t met yet, who all happened to be monster musicians. We recorded at Station West in Nashville with Ilya Toshinskiy (acoustic guitar), Steven Sinatra (drums), Jimmy Nichols (keys), Kris Donegan (electric guitar), and Rob Cureton (bass). It surpassed my expectations and the session felt so natural and easy despite being in a room filled with all musicians that I was meeting for the first time. Sometimes, you just feel so ‘at home’ with a song, it feels like it gives you no choice but to release it.” – Jessie Wilson

Track Credits:
Jessie Wilson – Lead vocal
Nicole Boggs – BGVs
Steve Sinatra – Drums
Ilya Toshinskiy – Acoustic guitar
Jimmy Nichols – Keys
Kris Donegan – Electric guitar
Rob Cureton – Bass
Andy Ellison – Dobro


Photo Credit: River Shook by Jillian Clark; Bryan Sutton courtesy of the artist.