Tag: guitar

BGS Wraps: Tommy Emmanuel, “Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer” (Live)

Posted on by Editor

Artist: Tommy Emmanuel
Album: Live! Christmas Time
Song: “Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer”
Release Date: December 4, 2020

In Their Words: “This live Christmas album was recorded at The Big Room at the Sierra Nevada Brewery in Chico, California, which is the same place I filmed and recorded my album, Center Stage. That room just has some mojo for me. When I listen to this recording, I hear the joy, soul, and fun we had at that show. Christmas music is so joyous to me and I feel we rose to the occasion that night. I’ve always felt a connection to the song ‘I’ll Be Home For Christmas.’ It just speaks to the heart, especially to anyone who travels for a living. Annie Sellick’s singing is just beautiful on that song. ‘Amazing Grace’ and ‘Guitar Boogie’ are also standout tracks for me. Pat Bergeson’s harmonica playing seems to push me to another level.” — Tommy Emmanuel, CGP

Enjoy more BGS Wraps here.

Mark Harris, “Lost Girl”

Posted on by Justin Hiltner

Just about every picker in bluegrass and old-time each has their own right-hand approach to their instruments. Even on the violin, a device with hundreds of years of technique and pedagogy behind its myriad bowing-arm methods, idiosyncrasies are still apparent in nearly every instrumentalist’s approach. The six-string, flat-top guitar — despite being perhaps the most common “ax” in the traditional five-piece string band — has experienced far fewer seismic shifts in playing style and technique, though its individual touches are just as varied. Clarence White and acolyte Tony Rice each reinvigorated the instrument’s role in bluegrass; and today, players like David Grier, Tommy Emmanuel, and Molly Tuttle conjure mind-bending, never before seen or heard acrobatics on their instruments. (Tuttle’s clawhammer guitar approach being a perfect example.) 

Mark Harris, an Australia-born guitarist now based in Colorado, offers his own innovative right-hand style on a new album, Old Time Guitar. His debut, the fifteen-song series explores old-time fiddle tunes re-arranged and configured for solo guitar. By playing with open tunings and capitalizing on their innate resonance, Harris is able to execute each composition as if a one-man-band, supplying his own rhythm section and simultaneously picking the tune. It’s like an old-time rendering of jazz guitar studies’ chord melodies plus open-string droning seemingly plucked from the banjo. The result, like on “Lost Girl,” is a loping, driving, homey sound with a polish — or perhaps a patina. On “Lost Girl,” Harris’ guitar is tuned D G D G B E (top to bottom), giving his flat-top box a honey-like resonance somewhere between a singer-songwriter’s DADGAD happy place and an open-tuned banjo.

With Old Time Guitar, Harris makes a compelling mark within a contemporary old-time scene hungry to demonstrate its canon isn’t just time capsule music, but relevant contextualized in the present — with production, arrangements, and outside-the-box thinking to match.

Photo credit: Tim Brown

The BGS Radio Hour – Episode 189

Posted on by Amy Reitnouer

For the first time, we are so excited to bring to you the BGS Radio Hour in podcast form! Since 2017 the BGS Radio Hour has been a weekly recap of the wonderful music, new and old, that we’ve covered here on BGS. Check back in every Monday to kick your weeks off with the best of BGS via the BGS Radio Hour.


LISTEN: APPLE MUSIC

Shemekia Copeland – “Clotilda’s on Fire”

Highly awarded modern blues artist — and our current Artist of the Month — Shemekia Copeland brings us a new release, Uncivil War, offering us a number of topical songs with perspectives on gun violence, LGBTQ+ rights, and more.

StillHouse Junkies – “Mountains of New Mexico”

Colorado-based StillHouse Junkies bring us a classic murder ballad inside an ode to the American West.

Marc Scibilia – “Good Times”

Recent 5+5 guest Marc Scibilia brings us a song from his new release, Seed of Joy.

Leyla McCalla – “Song for a Dark Girl”

Leyla McCalla (who you may know from folk supergroup Our Native Daughters) brings us a song from her new Smithsonian Folkways re-release, Vari-Colored Songs: a Tribute to Langston Hughes.

My Darling Clementine – “I Lost You”

UK-based duo My Darling Clementine brings us a new interpretation of an Elvis Costello/Jim Lauderdale co-write.

The Caleb Daugherty Band – “Daylight’s Burning”

The Caleb Daugherty Band pays tribute to Aubrey Holt of the acclaimed Boys From Indiana with a cover of “Daylight’s Burning.”

Madison Cunningham – “The Age Of Worry”

Madison Cunningham is back on BGS with a brand new EP, Wednesday, an interpretation of a handful of cover songs chosen by the California-based singer, songwriter, and guitarist.

Adam Hurt – “The Scolding Wife”

“Clawhammerist” Adam Hurt was a recent feature on Tunesday Tuesday with a solo gourd banjo rendition of “The Scolding Wife.”

The Avett Brothers – “Victory”

Everyone’s favorite roots music brothers — that is, the Avett Brothers — are back with The Third Gleam, a follow up to the first and second Gleam EPs. Much like their earlier sounds, the new record is stripped down, with timely discussions of gun violence, mortality, and the human condition. Check out our conversation with Scott, Seth, and Bob Crawford.

Jeff Cramer and the Wooden Sound – “Aimless Love”

Denver-based singer-songwriter Jeff Cramer brings us an edition of The Shed Sessions along with his band the Wooden Sound, and a wonderful tribute to the late, great John Prine.

Max Gomez – “He Was a Friend of Mine”

Regular friend of BGS, Max Gomez brings us a timely, social justice-inspired song.

Mipso – “Your Body”

Pop string band Mipso is just one of so many great North Carolina groups that we’re proud to feature this month in our Made in NC playlist for #NCMusicMonth!

Julian Taylor – “Love Enough”

Julian Taylor was the guest of honor on our most recent episode of Shout & Shine, a series that serves as a platform for Black, Brown, Indigenous, Asian, LGBTQ+, and disabled musicians, who are so often marginalized in genres to which they’ve constantly contributed.

Tony Trischka – “Carry Me Over The Sea”

Quintessential banjo legend Tony Trischka was featured this week with a new single from his 2021 release, Shall We Hope, that also features Irish singer Maura O’Connell.

Susan Werner – “To Be There”

Like many, Susan Werner is currently hoping for better times. And better times is what this Carter Family-inspired number is all about.

Photo credit: (L to R) Tony Trischka by Zoe Trischka; Shemekia Copeland by Mike White; Leyla McCalla by Rush Jagoe.

WATCH: David Grier & Tommy Emmanuel Shred “Workin’ Man Blues”

Posted on by Justin Hiltner

Flatpicker David Grier and his band have missed the stage in recent months, itching to perform with the regularity they once did. Luckily, the good folks at Nashville TuneStream have given them a stage from which they can perform safely and deliver their golden musical product to audiences around the world.

A weekly residency was established for Grier and co. at the livestream production company earlier this year, and we at BGS have been watching. If you haven’t yet had the privilege of seeing David Grier work his magic live, we strongly encourage you to do so at the next safe opportunity — though streams will certainly stand in until that point! A purist and traditionalist of sorts, Grier isn’t quite a household name, but you’d be hard-pressed to find a better flatpicker in the world. As a testament to his musicianship, Grier’s band is always loaded with heavy-hitting instrumentalists, this time including Stuart Duncan, Casey Campbell, Dennis Crouch, and renowned virtuosic guitarist Tommy Emmanuel.

Emmanuel leads the band through Merle Haggard’s “Workin’ Man Blues.” The train gets off to a powerful start, but Grier and Emmanuel derail the ensemble and venture off into a delightful guitars-only playground near the song’s end. During this pseudo-guitar duel, the rest stop entirely and share laughs with one another, as amused as we viewers at the mini guitar hero battle. The David Grier Band is scheduled to perform weekly for Nashville Tunestream, so watch this performance as a teaser and, if you can, support the band by tuning in!

Justin Moses, “Taxland”

Posted on by Justin Hiltner

Multi-instrumentalist, sideman extraordinaire, podcast host, composer, and IBMA Award winner Justin Moses’ presence in bluegrass is as ubiquitous as it is unassuming — that is, in every way except when his picks meet the strings. Moses won Resophonic Guitar Player of the Year from the International Bluegrass Music Association in 2018 and 2020; he’s also recorded on countless sessions and albums, played on the Grand Ole Opry, and has toured with Dan Tyminski, Ricky Skaggs & Kentucky Thunder, and for more than a decade he’s been touring and recording music with his wife of three years, Sierra Hull.

A new track, “Taxland,” which features double mandolins played by Moses and Hull, marries his quiet, often humble virtuosity and his confidence on the mandolin. Moses can command any/all of bluegrass’s staple instruments, resulting in a melody that is all at once careening wildly towards its end and impossibly, impeccably clean. An unfamiliar listener might find it difficult to pick out which instrument belongs to Moses and which to Hull, a testament to their seamless musical gelling after years and years of collaborating. Inspired, loosely, by David “Dawg” Grisman’s new acoustic, post- jazz and swing bluegrass, the tune is housed in a cheerful minor key, as Dawg tunes often are, and Michael Cleveland’s wonky, edge-of-your-seat fiddle solo recalls Vassar Clements’ forays in new acoustic, but not without Cleveland’s own brand of idiosyncratic, bombastic bowing and double-stops peppered throughout. 

That a song could feel so improvisational, melodious, and frenetic while retaining its impossible polish once again points back to Moses’ lifelong career in bluegrass and his endless professionalism not only as a creator, but as a technician of each instrument he commands. With Barry Bales and Bryan Sutton — two more lifelong friends and fellow music makers — rounding out the fivesome, “Taxland” will stick with you for longer than just its nearly three minutes and thirty seconds. If you’re a musician like Moses, it just might last you from April ‘til your extension deadline.

Photo credit: Kady Carter

On ‘I’m With You,’ William Elliott Whitmore Puts Family Wisdom to Use

Posted on by Editor

Over the last few years, William Elliott Whitmore has been thinking a lot about how we – as individuals and as a society – have a tendency to repeat our mistakes, and how we’re always trying not to. Yet the tone of his new album, I’m With You, is still infused with optimism, which often stems from the wisdom he’s learned from his family.

I’m With You is Whitmore’s first album of new material in five years, though its material wouldn’t sound out of place alongside his early songs like “Old Devils” or “Don’t Need It.” As always, his banjo and guitar are central to the album’s sound, while his raspy singing voice remains an effective tool at getting his point across.

Though the album does have some heavy themes, Whitmore often points out the silver lining in a situation, and moreover, he’s comfortable chatting up a stranger — a trait not uncommon to the Midwest. He spoke with BGS by phone from his farm in Lee County, Iowa, where he’s quarantining with his wife and their six-month-old baby.

BGS: There are several family relationships that you reference in the album’s first song, “Put It to Use,” and you’ve had family members as characters in your songs for a long time. Why is that bond with your family so inspiring?

Whitmore: Yeah, the bond with my family has always been inspiring. I’m pretty lucky in that I’ve got a big family that’s close by. Aunts and uncles and cousins. My folks were great people, full of wisdom and just caring, beautiful people, but through different circumstances they passed away when I was in my teens. So, that’s when I started writing songs, and in fact, that’s what made me start doing that — to codify what they had always been teaching me. And as a way to deal with it and not just go off the deep end. They pop up in songs a lot, and have since the beginning.

I don’t have them here, so I just think about their words of wisdom and lessons. I think we all get those lessons from someone, whether it’s your folks and a grandparent or a neighbor or a cool uncle or aunt. That cool person down the block that introduced you to The Ramones when you were a kid. [Laughs] It’s like, “Hey, check out Black Sabbath!” So you go, “I should listen up.” Not just music, but lessons, and we can gather that from anywhere. “Put It to Use” is about, OK, you’ve gathered all this good information. Now, put it to use. And more than just music — let’s try to love each other.

Was it someone in your family that introduced you to banjo?

Yeah, both of my grandpas played the banjo. One of them passed away when I was one year old, so I never knew him, but I actually have his old banjo. And one died when I was in my teens, and he was a banjo picker from the Ozark Mountains down in Missouri. My folks loved country music. My mom loved Willie Nelson and Charley Pride – those were her favorites. And in fact, my parents’ first date was a Charley Pride show at a county fair.

But [my interest in] the old-time stuff, Appalachia music and Ozark mountain music, came from my grandpa, and he played the banjo. When he passed away, I got his banjo because I was into playing guitar. I was like, “Oh, the banjo… it’s not THAT different than a guitar.” And I inherited all of his old records. He loved Roy Acuff and the Stanley Brothers. Again, it’s getting that influence from wherever you can.

Were those records your gateway to bluegrass? How did you become aware of bluegrass?

Yeah, those records. … He had a lot of compilations with 15 different artists on one record. You’d find out about a bunch of different stuff, like how Bill Monroe pretty much invented bluegrass by playing old-time music faster than everybody else. [Laughs] And the subtle differences between that and the old-time, slower stuff. A lot of it does have to do with tempo. The feeling is there for all of it, but Bill Monroe kicked it into that next gear.

It’s this whole rich history that’s really cool, and there’s still a lot to learn about, too. So I took that bluegrass influence, but I also liked Minor Threat and Bad Religion and Public Enemy, growing up in the ‘80s and ‘90s. There’s a theme running through all of this — punk and country and bluegrass and blues. Using simple tools to convey a message. No matter where you come from or what color you are, there’s a way to do this.

One thing you do well on this record, in my opinion, is setting the scene. While a lot of songwriters write primarily about themselves, or about love, you are writing about what’s around you. When did you become interested in environmentalism, for example?

That’s a great compliment, first of all. I’m right here on the farm I grew up on, and I’m very lucky to have that. So, the woods and nature and planting gardens — my folks were both naturalists. They wouldn’t have had the word for that, but they loved the land and they appreciated nature. That was passed on to us kids, the appreciation for the trees and the plants and the deer out in the field, and how we live among them and we’re part of it. We’re not above them. The grass in the meadow, the flora and the fauna that we see all around us, we’re just a part of that.

So it just doesn’t make sense to me, as an adult, why anyone would want to pour oil in the water, or level a whole forest, and cut every old-growth oak tree in the forest, just for the money! You want to live in harmony with nature, and sometimes you do have to cut a tree, but you want to be selective and do it in a smart way. … There are so many ways to do it mindfully. That’s my slant on it, and it all comes from living in the woods and living on a farm, and being instilled with those things at an early age.

Listening to your older records, I was struck by how much your singing voice has become more commanding. Did that come from you having to sing on stage, and use it as an instrument? At what point did you sense that your voice was becoming stronger?

That’s another great compliment. I didn’t even know if it was, but you know, it’s funny how things change over 20 years. I first started touring — gosh, it’s been over 20 years ago now. I used to smoke a lot of cigarettes and a lot of weed. … Well, maybe don’t write down “weed.” Oh, whatever, I don’t care. I just had a fucked up voice, but it was all I had. I was like, I wish I could croon like Dean Martin and Morrissey or Ralph Stanley, and have a beautiful voice, and I could never quite get there. So you just work with what you got, right?

So, I quit the cigarettes – and only the cigarettes. [Laughs] My voice changed after that, maybe, but it did come with playing a couple hundred shows a year, for years, and just being on stage, at least in the beginning, where they didn’t know who you are. It’s hard to be a presence when you’re by yourself. I was doing a lot of punk clubs and DIY spaces and bars, where they might not even care that you’re there. So you do have to make your presence known. I had to be more commanding. I am a loudmouth anyway, so it was natural. Put a microphone in front of me and I’ll make you listen! [Laughs] “I’m gonna start singing and you’re gonna wanna listen!” was my attitude, which is funny now.

But that did help me use it as almost a cudgel. Over the years, I’ve tried to sharpen that and make it more of a surgical thing and not a blunt instrument. [Laughs] I mean, I’m only dealing with guitar, banjo, and voice, and a beat — a kick drum now. Each one of them has to count. Any would singer would tell you, you take the time to write these lyrics, and in a live setting they just get lost. You’re just hollering. You have to learn to cut through. … Now it’s a bad habit to break because I’ll be singing in a quiet place, where everyone’s sitting down and listening and no one’s talking, and I’m just yelling like someone needs to hear me ten miles away. It’s those years of screaming over a bar room. I can’t shut it off.

Photo credit: Chris Casella

BGS 5+5: Larry Keel

Posted on by Editor

Artist: Larry Keel
Hometown: Lexington, Virginia for the past 24 years.
Latest album: American Dream, out November 6, 2020
Personal nicknames (or rejected band names): My wife and I call each other “Ange” (pronounced “Aynge” with a long “a”) other nicknames are “Doghead” and “Late-night Man.”

What’s your favorite memory from being on stage?

My favorite memory is standing next to two of my heroes that I had studied all my life up to that point, and getting to collaborate and share in the music we made together on stage… I’m speaking of Tony Rice and Vassar Clements, during a period in my career when both of these iconic musicians played regularly in my band. Other major moments I cherish and will never forget are playing with Little Feat in Jamaica on a beach in Negril, playing Carnegie Hall in New York, playing Red Rocks Amphitheatre, and getting to play live music with my wife and my brother all throughout my career.

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

I truly love to paint! Bob Ross got to me early in my childhood, and he’s still all up in my soul. I paint with watercolors, markers, pens, anything when I feel the urge. I guess poetry also influences my music, because I lean on that literary form for my songwriting. And I’m currently getting more into designing a meal and preparing the food, then plating it artistically.

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

I knew I had to be a musician when I was little and I started paying more attention to my father and older brother playing (they both played guitar, my father also played banjo and sang). I loved watching them have such a good time and I could see how everyone playing music with them or listening to them all enjoyed it so much. Then, when I was 7, my brother bought me a guitar, helped me get started with chords and positions, and I never set the instrument down…I was hooked from then on.

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

The mission is to let the art take me and everyone listening on a journey together, to get us all on the same page for the time we’re connecting through the music. If I had to give myself or a budding musician advice, I’d say be ready to work HARD. Do your music and your business your own way. Let your own instincts and your own style guide your decisions. I’m a big believer in “march to the beat of your own drum…” and, be frugal and be kind.

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

I spend lots of time in the garden, right here at my home. It’s such a zen feeling to plant seeds, nurture them, watch them grow and then enjoy the fruits and veggies of mine and my wife’s labor. Fishing and being on any water is another zen-like activity that keeps me grounded. All in all, I try to spend as much time as possible in nature, because it charges up my “feel-good” and gives me a connection to something timeless and eternal. I’m always trying to tap that genuine energy when I write and play music. That’s the goal.

Photo credit: Lyric Photography

Jordan Tice, “Stratford Waltz”

Posted on by Justin Hiltner

Do you remember the soundtrack to your earliest childhood memories? Do you remember the songs that wafted from the car radio to the backseat as you rode along the highway, en route to a family reunion or summer vacation? My earliest memories of seemingly interminable, minivan-filled-to-bursting road trips are often scored by solo acoustic guitar. My older brother, a fingerstyle enthusiast and acolyte, had an equally interminable collection of Phil Keaggy albums. At one point, I could tell you the exact title of the tune that was my favorite to fall asleep to on the road — though by now I’ve long forgotten which one. 

Guitarist and Nashville transplant Jordan Tice counts many a virtuosic, acoustic guitar aesthetician (cutaway or not) among his influences, from Norman Blake to Mississippi John Hurt — two pickers Tice references as direct inspirators of his upcoming solo album, Motivational Speakeasy. The record was written pre-pandemic and, despite its “stripped down” nature, feels impetuous, mischievous, and adventure-ready, even in a song as languid and buttery as “Stratford Waltz.” Named for Stratford Avenue in Nashville’s Inglewood neighborhood, the tune immediately recalled to mind the family road trips of my childhood, my brother’s CD carrying case, and my sleepy head bonking against the back window in our circa 2004 Chevrolet Astro Van.

The intimate setting of the album — it’s just Tice and his “beloved and well-worn Collings guitar,” as a press release puts it — and the subtly lush reverb magnify the gentle, magnetic momentum of “Stratford Waltz.” With that motion and the sly adventuresome spirit we know from Tice’s writing, both lyrical and instrumental, it’s no wonder a mind might leap immediately to the open road, with hundreds of miles ahead. And personally, it’s certainly fitting because, nowadays, when I turn off the highway and head south on Gallatin Pike in Nashville towards my current home, my most direct route is down — did you guess it? — Stratford Avenue

Photo credit: Jacqueline Justice

BGS 5+5: Stephen Mougin

Posted on by Editor

Artist: Stephen Mougin
Hometown: Ashfield, Massachusetts
Latest album: Ordinary Soul
Personal nicknames (or rejected band names): Mojo

What’s your favorite memory from being on stage?

2006 was my first trip to Telluride with the Sam Bush Band. It was all “larger than life” from the ride in, to the amazing town, to the incredible lineup, to the unbelievable stage/sound/light crew. I remember walking out on stage (which is quite tall), getting set up, then looking out at the mountains just as the sun was setting. It was so breathtaking and surreal that I didn’t even notice the audience for at least three or four songs. Telluride is a special place and Planet Bluegrass makes it even better!

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

I was interested in shooting some interview videos for our record label so I purchased my first DSLR, learned about photography exposure, lighting, etc. and began my journey as a videographer. I really enjoy street, landscape, and architectural photography while I’m out on tour as a method to practice, and it makes for nice memories when I’m home. Our videography has grown to include music videos which I direct, shoot, and edit. There’s so much similarity between video light/color and audio frequencies/instruments, I feel like my visual understanding has informed my audio engineering and overall musicality.

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

My pal Thayer Washer (a Nashville musician who toured with Connie & Babe and the Backwoods Boys in his younger years) wanted to take me bass fishing as a thank you for working on a project for him. Little did I know it would remain a fun, calming hobby, pushed forward with the addition of a jon boat and trolling motor. When I fish, I don’t think about ANYTHING other than where to cast, which lure, what rod technique to use, and where they might be. It is a necessary brain cleanse. I’m a workaholic and I often feel guilty for taking a few hours to go, but feel so much better when I do.

Since food and music go so well together, what is your dream pairing of a meal and a musician?

My two favorite singers are Frank Sinatra and Lester Flatt. I’d love to share a meal with both of them (can you imagine THAT conversation?) and I’d picture it as some sort of surf-and-turf involving large shrimp, a slab of steak, and a baked potato with a large dollop of butter. Though that’s not really my favorite meal, it seems like what those guys might eat (maybe Lester would pass on the shrimp…). We’d chat about memorable gigs and I’d have a thousand questions from vocal delivery to the hardships of touring in their time.

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

As a voice teacher, I often encourage students to “get inside the song” by pretending to be the character. Dabbling in musical theater in my youth, followed by my classical voice training, naturally set the footprint for this particular technique. When I sing, I have a movie playing behind my eyeballs which helps me feel the truth in the song (even if it’s not “MY” truth). I’ve spent so much time working on song personalities, there’s really no “ME” in it… except that “I” am the character (if I’m doing my job well). The direct answer to your question lies in the particular songs one chooses to sing!

Photo credit: Elliott Lopes

Interviewed by His Daughter, Mac McAnally Recounts a ‘Lifetime’ in Music

Posted on by Editor

Mac McAnally is a highly-decorated and prolific multi-instrumentalist, producer, songwriter, and artist. He tours with Jimmy Buffett’s Coral Reefer Band, plays on countless sessions in Nashville and Muscle Shoals, and produces a number of independent artists, too. But more important to me, he’s my dad. And he’s a great one. On the occasion of the release of his new album, Once in a Lifetime, we discuss guitars, bluegrass, moments of social change, why he covered a Beatles song, and the process of making this record amidst a pandemic. And though I get to talk to him most days of my life, it is heartening to hear him put a fine point on his eternal optimism.

BGS: Growing up, music was constant in the house and one of the most pervasive cover songs you played was “Norwegian Wood.” What do you think it is about that song that sticks in your craw and drew you to record it?

Mac McAnally: As you know, I’ve always loved that song. In the very first line, from a lyric standpoint, “I once had a girl/Or should I say/She once had me,” you can tell any story in the world after that. That is something that I subconsciously try to do and have since the beginning.

Specifically, why I recorded it is because I bought an octave mandolin about four years ago. I did a show with Sarah Jarosz and she had one and let me play it and I thought, “I am going to have to get me one of these.” I always feel like I have to do something to justify the purchase so I play it on as many sessions as I can to try to amortize the cost, but I also came up with this new way to play it that is kind of a cool arrangement that I’ve never heard. I don’t in any way challenge the Beatles version and don’t mean any disrespect; I’m trying to find ways to justify the guilt of buying an octave mandolin.

On almost every record that you’ve made there’s a nod to bluegrass, like “Brand New Broken Heart” on this record. Who are some of your biggest bluegrass influences?

I have to preface this by saying I am a bluegrass fan, I am not a bluegrass player. Anything that I might be doing would just be trying to pay homage to what the greats can do. I’ve gotten to play with some of them, which I count high among the blessings of my life. When I wrote “Brand New Broken Heart,” I envisioned I would someday pitch it to Ricky Skaggs or Dailey & Vincent. I recorded it because I was a lazy song plugger who never pitched it to anybody.

Doc Watson was one of mine and my dad’s heroes. He was sort of my intro to real bluegrass. And all the way through my life, Emmylou Harris. We played her songs in bands when I was a teenager. Bryan Sutton is just frighteningly good. I can’t even fathom what he is doing, let alone try to do it myself. He inspires me to go get a pick out and play differently than I play because I love so much of what he does. And I’m crazy about I’m With Her.

What brought about recording “Changing Channels” for this record?

I have always loved that song. It is the second song that Jimmy (Buffett) and I wrote together. We wrote it in one my favorite places I have ever been. He had a spot down in Thomasville, Georgia, with a big porch. As you know I’m a porch guy. We sat out on the porch and wrote that song. He did a great version of it on Off the See the Lizard and I honestly never imagined myself cutting it but I love to play it. It has worked its way into my shows over the last ten years and his fan base will come up after and ask which one of my records the song is on. They had cash out trying to buy it and I don’t have it. You know better than anybody how terrible of a businessman I am, but eventually enough people tried to buy a version of it that I listened.

You have collected a lot of guitars, and in various ways: some saved from landfills, some gifted, some cast for you by friends and colleagues. How do you pick which guitars make your records?

It is certainly not an exact science but sometimes it is the guitar that the song came out of. The main thing that has always made me select guitars is if I think they have songs in them. I would happen to be holding them and a couple of my stories got mashed with them. In more cases than not, if I wrote a song on a guitar, that’s the one I’ll record. You end up learning over the years. In the same way when you are photographing someone, you learn what the best side of their face is. … A Gibson with dead strings is an awesome rock ‘n’ roll rhythm guitar. A Martin with new strings is an awesome fingerpicking guitar.

We are in a moment of social change. Music has the power to both inspire and record change. You moved to the Shoals in the ‘70s. Thinking back on those early days in the studio, what was it like in those moments?

Playing music in Muscle Shoals was extremely encouraging from the standpoint of equality. They didn’t really think of it in terms of race. Music transcended that. And I love that. And I still love that. I’m standing in Muscle Shoals right now proud to be part of that. You can be encouraged on some levels and discouraged on some levels and I am both of those things. I haven’t in my life ever thought that I was better or worse than anybody else and I look forward to that being a more prevalent vantage point for everyone.

I want to challenge you on that a bit. One of your dear friends and longtime collaborators, Ralph MacDonald, told you that he never felt comfortable coming to Muscle Shoals and we’ve heard from more folks that it wasn’t an inviting place to come collaborate, so a lot of those musicians opted for Detroit or Miami. With that added perspective, does it make you feel differently about the time?

Absolutely, it makes me more aware of the context. As I said, Muscle Shoals would have been advanced in terms of racial relations in the music community in the South. As I look back now, I realize that doesn’t mean it was great. It was just better relative to the surroundings.

Ralph and I, we were like brothers. He told me he would’ve been scared to death of a big red-headed dude from Mississippi. And he was a Black man from Harlem. I could not have imagined that we would connect on as many levels as we did. We both had misconceptions that got better. He was one of my heroes. He was one of the best percussionists that ever played. And I loved him. It is hard to get into racial discussions without stirring stuff up. But we made each other better. Music is one of the best ways to bridge across preconceptions. I think it’ll play a big part of getting us the rest of the way home. ‘Cause we ain’t there yet.

Stirring stuff up is the way we make progress.

That’s true and they are not easy discussions. I don’t think of myself as someone with prejudices, but when I think back, some of the things I laughed at growing up as a kid in Mississippi I’m embarrassed of. And I was mainly laughing because everyone around me was laughing, but when I think of what it was we were laughing at, it is embarrassing. I don’t really want to talk about it, I just want to be a better person, because I know it was wrong. But you are right. Talking about it is better. Air it out.

What does it feel like to release an album in a pandemic?

Well, not speaking ill of either thing, but I hope it is a one-time thing. I hope I never have to try to beat a pandemic album with a second pandemic album. My records are normally made in what I call “the cracks of time.” I make them in the cracks of my schedule because I work full-time as a Coral Reefer, a fair amount of time as a session musician for other people, writing songs for other people and producing other folks. But because of the circumstance of this record, it is really special to me because I got to sit and think about what I felt was important and what was not. I wouldn’t wish a pandemic on the world just to get extra time to make my record. I think maybe next time I’ll just take the time on my own.

Even in your darkest lyrics, there is a balance that shows your shining optimism. We are surrounded by a heavy dose of dark right now. Are you feeling optimistic?

Absolutely. I absolutely am. I wish we weren’t where we are right now and that everyone could see that it is better to find a way to coexist than it is to hate one another. I’m not someone who has any room for hate. As you recall, I don’t even like the word. I’ve probably pestered you about it for your entire life. Actual hate hurts me. We’ve been celebrating the life of John Lewis the last few weeks and John is a great example of figuring out a way to make it better by not hating the people who hated him. I think things are going to get better and I intend to try to help.

Erin McAnally is a regular contributor to The Bluegrass Situation

Photo Credit: Jeff Fasano