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 work. More 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.

Bill Frisell Invites All of Us Inside His Guitar Dreams

The first time Bill Frisell played guitar in front of an audience was typical for the time. It was the summer of 1965 and he was 14. He’d saved up money from a paper route in his Denver-area neighborhood so he could buy his first electric.

“Oh man, I can still just…” He pauses, lost in nostalgic reverie, on a Zoom chat from his now-home in Brooklyn.

“I opened the case and I can just smell it,” he says. “It’s amazing.”

His face bears a beatific smile, his voice a genial, gentle tone – things that he’s known for nearly as much as his astonishing musical talents.

“I got a Fender Mustang and a Fender Deluxe amp,” he continues. “And then my other friend, he got an electric guitar and this other guy across the street played drums. We learned like three songs. And then within a couple of weeks we were playing for a party in somebody’s basement.”

He’s not sure what they played – “probably ‘Louie Louie’ and I don’t know what else.” But the feeling?

“I guess in a way, that’s kind of what I kept on doing,” he says. “Get with my friends, learn a couple of songs and then go play for people. And that’s all I’ve done ever since.”

It’s exactly what he did on a recent Wednesday at the new Blue Note jazz club in Hollywood at the start of a several-week “75th Birthday Celebration” tour, that milestone coming on March 18. The friends joining this night were bassist Luke Bergman and drummer Tim Angulo.

The set was more than three songs, of course, played, as is his frequent style, in a continuous, hour-long stream, moving through originals, jazz standards, and movie score themes, as well as an ethereal “Moon River,” a tremolo-inflected “Shenandoah” and, closing, Burt Bacharach’s ever-timely “What the World Needs Now Is Love.” Wrapping it up was a somber yet hopeful encore of “We Shall Overcome.” Throughout the show, he and his trio-mates play with remarkably fluid connections. The approach could be delicate or heavy, buoyant or somber – or somehow all at once.

And with each note, even amid immeasurable harmonic complexities, melodic sophistication, and the nimble skills he’s gained through the decades, there was that kid from 1965, his beaming smile and twinkling eyes revealing his utter, still-fresh delight.

Frisell approached every measure as fresh territory, ripe for discovery, for exploration, curious where an old melody might reveal something new, reveling in its beauty or finding richness in dissonance he adds. Sometimes he’d play around with a short, simple phrase for a bit, like a new toy. Occasionally he’d fiddle with effects to enhance his pointillistic Telecaster touch (he moved on from the Mustang years ago). He throws in a cluster of sonic fireflies here, some “backwards” sounds there. He even giggled a little once when he hit a bad note.

“It’s weird,” he says in conversation a few days before the concert. “I still feel like I’m just beginning. And I’m not kidding. I mean, I know I’ve been playing for a while, but it’s still that feeling [that] never goes away. I’d be fooling myself if I thought … “

He paused again, looking for the right words.

“You just can’t feel as it you finished anything.”

This all comes through profoundly on his new album, In My Dreams, his 45th (plus many dozens of collaborations, group, film and TV scores and sideman projects), released on February 27. It also features a trio (longtime collaborators Thomas Morgan on bass and Rudy Royston on drums joining him) plus a string trio (violinist Jenny Scheinman, violist Eyvind Kang and cellist Hank Roberts), as well.

The title references an actual dream he had years ago in which a group of mysterious, cloaked figures allowed him to experience things beyond our normal perception. First they showed him colors – intense and beautiful – and then music in which all the things he’s loved, from Nino Rota to Hank Williams to Jimi Hendrix to Thelonious Monk, lived together as one glorious sound.

The album, mostly recorded live in three concerts last summer, shows him pursuing that sound himself, with approaches that might be termed jazz, classical, and folk-Americana braided through originals sometimes tender, sometimes dark and intense. Also included are interpretations of the Duke Ellington/Billy Strayhorn classic “Isfahan,” Stephen Foster’s “Hard Times” and, to close, “Home on the Range.” The latter is previewed earlier in the album with his own fantasia on themes from the song that he calls “Give Me a Home.” And for the title song, fittingly, he created an anxious soundscape inspired in part by Bernard Herrmann’s Alfred Hitchcock scores.

Still, the dream remains a dream for him, something ever out of reach, but ever-alluring.

“I don’t even know when it was, 30 years ago when I had it or more,” he says. “And music in general is always something that you can’t quite…. “

He stops to choose his words again.

“It’s always a little bit past what you can get to,” he says. “But the dream was like that. It’s like, I don’t know if I’ll ever get there, but just keep trying.”

In My Dreams is a hearty grab at that ring, though that very elusiveness is a key part of his art.

“With these people, we’ve been playing together so long,” he says, noting that Royston and the string players all were together on his 2013 album Big Sur. “There’s this thing that started happening quite a while back where, for me, I just love the line between arranging and orchestration and composing. The lines get all sort of blurred. We’re all seeing the same information, like what I write could look like a piano score or something. And we figure out some stuff, but basically everyone is free. The cello doesn’t always play what’s on the bottom and the violin doesn’t always play what’s on the top. And there’s a thing that happens spontaneously amongst them, amongst all of us, dropping out or coming in or switching parts that’s really the exciting part of it for me.

“So it’s like you’re improvising with the whole texture of everything. It’s not like they’re playing some part and then I’m playing a solo on top of it. Ideally it’s like an ongoing conversation amongst all of us. I never want it to be predictable. Hopefully it’s always in a state of uncertainty. I mean, I want it to be strong, but at the same time I want everyone to feel safe that they can fall off the edge, and then we’ll come back and pick it up, because that’s where the good stuff happens.”

That, of course, goes back to the avant-garde settings in the New York downtown scene of the 1980s and ‘90s, where he made a name as part of boundary-pushing sax player John Zorn’s unpredictable jazz-metal ensemble, Naked City. But the sensibility remains core to him even in his frequent trips into folk, Americana, movie scores, and unabashedly romantic pop-rooted material. His 1992 album, Have a Little Faith, a musical portrait of America spanning from Foster and Sousa to Ives and Copland, from Muddy Waters and Sonny Rollins to John Hiatt and Bob Dylan to Madonna, remains a landmark in his vast catalog. And he’s recorded and performed with many Americana singer-songwriters including Paul Simon, Lucinda Williams, Joe Henry, Bonnie Raitt, Buddy Miller, and Shawn Colvin. He simply loves a good song with a good melody.

“I can’t help it,” he says. “I was born in 1951 and I grew up in Colorado, just as television and rock ‘n’ roll were all happening. It’s not a conscious thing. [But] at a certain point, I realized, ‘Wait a minute, I gotta not be afraid to show that that’s where I come from.’ I think when I was younger I was more worried about, ‘Oh, are people going to think this is not cool?’ But then after a point it’s like, well, wait a minute. This is what I am. This is where I came from. And if I’m really honest, I do like that melody. I like when Burt Bacharach wrote a really beautiful song and it’s not corny if you look at it a certain way.

“I think I learned that from the people I thought were the coolest, like Sonny Rollins. He would play songs that he heard when he was a kid, or that he saw in a Broadway show or whatever. And I realized he’s doing that because that’s his experience and his life. So it’s okay for me to play a Beach Boys song or a Beatles song, because that’s what I heard when I was growing up. And ‘Home on the Range,’ I mean, [I] probably heard it when I was in my mother’s womb or something, you know?”

Arguably, the latter is the emotional keystone of In My Dreams, particularly in tandem with his “Give Me a Home” musings on its melodic theme earlier on the album, the strings following him as he steps through and around the familiar melodies, clearly with Copland hovering over.

“I was messing around with ‘Home on the Range,’ I wrote all these different versions and then that particular one, it’s just a phrase from the song, doesn’t even get through the whole song. And then the title.” He laughs.

“When you think of what’s going on in [the world]. I mean, we play ‘Hard Times’ on there, too. It’s like, folks without a home. Where are we now? What is going on around here?”

Those questions come to the fore again on the full “Home on the Range” later. The song starts relatively straightforwardly, but after a couple of minutes it goes into a dark, abstract zone. That is how the album ends.

“I didn’t have that planned out,” he says. “The stuff just happens organically and then we piece it together, and that’s what it is. But then you see how the music reflects the place we’re at. I didn’t have a preconceived idea. It’s always easier after the fact to make a story out of it somehow.”

The story of Bill Frisell, inevitably, touches on his generous, easygoing manner. It seems to be mentioned every time someone talks or writes about him. Does he ever get tired of people saying how nice he is?

He hesitates.

“No,” he says, sheepishly. “I don’t know if I’m really that nice. I try to be a good person, but I don’t know. I mean, there’s a lot going on underneath the surface.”

He laughs, clearly uncomfortable with the topic.

“I get upset,” he says. “I have to wake up and look at the news every day and that doesn’t help, you know?”

He pauses one more time.

“But I guess that’s all the more reason for us to try to be good to each other.”


Photo Credit: Marko Mijailovic

Vince Gill Has Done It All (Part 2)

Poaching from Elvis, well over 50,000,000 Vince Gill fans can’t be wrong.

The longevity Gill discussed in Part 1 of this interview has taken him from bluegrass beginnings to a genre-inclusive 50 years as one of country’s most beloved and sought-after artists.

It’s not always been easy, however. No one, regardless of talent or fan loyalty, is immune from freedom of the keyboard and Gill is no stranger to the highs and lows of public opinion. Mostly it’s outpourings of gratitude from the millions whose lives his music touches. Sometimes it’s claptrap about his now decade-long tenure in the Eagles, or venomous spewing over songs like “March On, March On,” from Secondhand Smoke, the second in his series of retrospective EPs being released monthly.

In Part 2 of his conversation with Good Country, Gill discusses, among other things, the aforementioned decade-long tenure with the Eagles, bullying – with a few choice words for those who inflict it – his scrolling habits, and he indulges us in a rapid-fire round of closing questions.

In the arc of this 50-year project, it is not unnoticed that Hotel California turns 50 this year. Do you have memories of listening to that album as a young man, as you now find yourself onstage playing those songs?

Vince Gill: I had all the Eagles records. We did a lot of their songs in my bluegrass days, and it’s completely surreal. I’m starting my tenth year of being in that band and continuing that legacy of songs. What I value most about getting to play with these guys, what I’ve learned most, is how important songs are – all the notes, all the licks, all the riffs, all that stuff. Getting to relearn that at this stage of life has been pretty profound in the way that I’m trying to write songs. I’m patient in the way I write. I’m patient to wait for it to come – the right words, to not settle on anything, and really edit and work and edit and work and continue to try to be mindful of how important the song is.

What I’m mindful of with the Eagles is the tragedy. More important than the fact that I get to do it is that if Glenn had not passed away, I would not have gotten to do this and I’m grateful I’m the one they called. I met all those guys in, I think, 1980, when I was living [in California]. In a million years, would I have ever thought this would have happened? No. But I am careful of how I couch everything, because it came from something tragic and I am respectful of that.

Glenn was a really good friend of mine, actually, and his son Deacon is doing a great job up there of carrying on his dad’s tradition. I think I’m a great fit for them in the way I play guitar and sing, and sing harmony, and play all the instruments I do. I’m not saying I’m better than anybody else they could have gotten. I’m just saying what I do suits them really well.

Jedd Hughes described you as “one of the greatest band leaders I’ve ever worked with. He’s listening to everything and everyone, always, so you can read his cues pretty easily.” First part of the question: Where did you learn to lead?

Because I’m a musician, I think I come at it different and I operate under the mindset that every note is equal. You’re not more important because you’re the lead singer. You’re not more important because you play the lead solo in the song. I value every note the same. Spending my life in the studio like I have, knowing what you play and do has to sit well and play well with others, you have to listen to everybody else.

It’s amazing what you can accomplish if you don’t care who gets the credit. Sometimes people play only to be noticed and that doesn’t necessarily constitute the right thing for the song. They say in Nashville all the time, “Just serve the song.” That’s all I’ve ever tried to do. If someone’s playing something and doing something, don’t do something to distract it. Do something to enhance it, to support it.

Second part: How does that translate to arrangements and contributions from the musicians you work with?

Great players all listen to each other and you’re dealing with a caliber of musicians that already know what not to do, so you don’t have to waste time going, “Hey, don’t play that, that’s too much, that’s not necessary.” Every time I’m in there playing, I take every note, examine it, and make it move me, make it sit just right.

Once again, if you’re playing with that caliber of people, which I fortunately am – my band is usually made up of a lot of studio musicians and amazing players – they like playing with me because I’m a player, too. I’m not just someone up there singing the songs. So I think I have their respect, and that points you once again towards, “What’s the best thing for the song? What’s the best arrangement idea? What’s the best part to play? What’s the best part not to play?” That’s it in a nutshell.

I’m surrounded by musicians that can all play me under the table, straight up. That’s the truth. I’m grateful to have them, grateful to get to play with them, and it makes for a very democratic spirit. Even in the way we record, I’m not heavy-handed. I’m not telling people what to play. Oftentimes we’ll be in there and they’ll say, “Do you like this?” I go, “I don’t have any idea. I’ve never even heard this song before. I know I wrote it, but we’re in here trying to figure it out, so we’re just going to figure it out all together.”

It creates a great spirit in there if everybody feels like they’re all walking on equal ground, everybody has a right to an opinion, everybody has a right to try something, nobody gets shut down, nobody gets put off. It’s an amazing experience. I don’t ever do demos with my songs. I just write them and then I show them to the guys on the floor. I go, “This is how it goes. Let’s figure it out.” They naturally gravitate towards something great and you just follow them off the cliff! It’s wonderful to watch other people’s gifts.

Earlier you described yourself as “the happiest son of a bitch in the world” who just loves sad songs. In that happiness, however, you have experienced much grief. Your faith is strong. Have you ever lost or questioned it during times of loss?

When I think about faith, I don’t think of it so much [from] the religious point of view. I think faith in humanity – more than Baptist or Methodist, or heaven or hell, or any of that stuff. None of these questions have ever been answered, so to pretend you know the answers seems a little, I don’t know, pretentious almost. That might not be a good word. But, no. It all comes from loving deep. The people I love, I love them deeply. They matter to me.

Music is where I go to grieve. It’s where I go to get through loss. It’s where all those things are. I tell everybody it’s cheaper than therapy. I just write about it.

I never feel the need to fix everything in my life. My relationship with my dad, if it was funky or whatever, I said, “It’s not my place to change him. It’s my job to accept him.” Once I could do that, we had a great relationship. You don’t have to be like me for me to like you. You don’t have to think like I do for me to like you.

I’ve been told more often than not, “Why I like your songs is you are able to say what I wish I could say. You are able to express feelings I have that I don’t know how to.” Maya Angelou sought me out and asked me to come and meet her when she was in Nashville years ago. She told me, “‘Go Rest High’ was a lifesaver to me. It helped me get through the loss of my brother.” Those kinds of things make you go, “I’m going to try to find a way to be emotional about things and not only help myself, but help other people too.” I think if you can portray in a story what someone’s going through, you have a chance to make people feel better.

You can’t name-drop Maya Angelou and just go on to the next question! We need to back up a little bit.

She was speaking at Vanderbilt and wanted to meet. [My wife] Amy [Grant] and I went and afterward we got to go back and say hi. She said, “You mean a lot to me, because your song helped me get through one of the hardest times of my life.” It was a great visit.

You’ve released the fourth EP in your series. Which chapter is this and do you know what’s to follow?

It’s uptempo-y and groove-y, kind of like “Liza Jane” and “One More Last Chance” and some of those fun songs. Each record is, on purpose, similar-driven. The record after this fourth one will be a lot of real country-country stuff, real traditional stuff. The one after that is going to be more like “I Still Believe In You” and “Don’t Let Our Love Start Slippin’ Away,” from a more rocking side. I don’t want to say the word “pop,” but it is. It feels like an Eagles record or a Fleetwood Mac record at times. The inspirations are all in there.

The one after that is real bluesy R&B-ish. Are you hip to Lamont Landers? He’s a soul singer from Alabama. You look at him and go, “There’s no way this voice is coming out of that dude.” He does all these really cool things. I found him and I got him to come and sing on one of my songs that’s coming out later in the year. He’s just such a cool dude. I’ve been trying to turn people on to him.

How did you find him?

Scrolling.

You’re a scroller!

Oh, heavily guilty. I tell Amy it’s my TV now instead of channel surfing. Once in a while you’ll come upon a great young musician, or a great young singer, or a great comedian. There’s so many options, and if you stop on something, it’ll start giving you hundreds of things just like that.

The algorithm gets you.

Yeah, exactly. But it’s entertaining, and I found a couple of people to track down and
have them sing on my record because I like what they do.

What do you scroll?

YouTube, Facebook, Instagram. Most of the stuff is pointless, but there’s a nugget once in a while.

How do you handle the cruelty of social media? It can get to anyone, especially when it’s directed toward you.

It can, if you let it. That’s the life we live in now. You can’t go perform and not have everybody have a camera out and put it up and showing it and seeing it. You have a bad night and everybody’s going to rip you for it. It’s like, “How much negativity can you continue putting out there, saying negative things?” It’s never going to stop, you know that, but it’s still entertaining to read.

I read it to be informed and I don’t mind taking it. I’ve lived with critics being critical of everything I’ve ever done. It comes with the territory. If you’re brave enough to stand up there and speak through a microphone, you know you’re going to get judged to some degree. Once in a while, somebody will say something and I say, “That’s fair. That’s truthful.” Other people will say things and I go, “You don’t even know what the hell you’re talking about, but you have an opinion that’s inflammatory towards me, and you couldn’t be more wrong.” I know that, so it doesn’t have an impact.

Sadly, people have to get on there, the keyboard warriors. They think they finally have a voice. Being able to post and have an opinion, they think that gives them a voice. But in the grand scheme of things, it doesn’t. I know that, so I just take it with a grain of salt and move on.

Perhaps being 68 years old with experience and success makes that easier than for a young person just starting out.

People are still critical of me being in the Eagles. They say, “Now it’s a cover band and you shouldn’t be there,” blah, blah, blah. You know it’s coming, so press on. Say whatever you want. Say it to my face and see what happens to you!

I can’t control any of it. I can control me. I can control my heart, what my heart thinks, what my heart feels. If you hate what I do, that’s okay. A lot of people don’t like what I do. I’m used to that. You’re not going to stop me.

Earlier we talked about hope. I just hope people respond. I don’t mind if they respond negatively. You don’t want that, you’d rather not, but it’s funny how you can get a hundred good reviews on a record and one bad and you only remember the bad one. That’s human nature. It’s not a weakness. It just goes to show how being cruel and negative towards someone has an impact.

I think about the times I was in school and was talked to in a negative way, and how it lasted. I remembered it forever. There was a girl I was in a band with for a little bit. She sang in this choir at the school that was really well thought of, and the choir director told her, “You are wasting your time with that guy and his banjo and bluegrass. He’s a fool.” And I just want to go, “Na-na-na-na-na!” But you remember it. And an English teacher that kicked me out of the class for saying something she didn’t like and painted me a certain way. You remember it.

My own kids, one teacher said to my youngest daughter, “My dog has more manners than you.” Things like that … my hundred-year-old mother is still pissed off about that! She’s still, “I’d like to get my hands on that teacher!” We’ve got a good bit of redneck in us!

I watch my sweet wife take slings and arrows all the time and the way she handles it is so beautiful to watch and so inspiring. It’s helped me do the same thing.

Can you play everything you hear in your head?

Probably. I hope so! It’s funny you brought that up, because being a musician and a singer, people say, “How do you get inspired to sing?” or “How do you get inspired to play?” Well, before I play something, in my head, I’m saying, “How would you sing this?” And when I’m getting ready to sing something, I ask myself, “How would you play this? What kind of rhythm? What kind of phrasing?” All those things.

I think the real difference [between] a good singer and a great singer is the way they phrase. Ray Charles could phrase like nobody’s business. Jerry Lee Lewis, when he sang country songs, could phrase like nobody else. George Jones could phrase like nobody else. You go on and on and look at all the greatest singers, and they’re unique because more so the way they phrased than how many notes they sang.

What is the difference between playing guitar and being a guitarist?

Oh, man. I don’t know if there is. I think it’s the same thing. It all comes from the same heart. It all comes from the same ears. I just play what I think fits. I think that’s what being a great guitarist is – playing what fits.

I saw something the other day that said, “I refuse to name who I think the greatest guitar player is,” and it makes sense to me because there’s no such thing. Everybody goes at it in a different way and has a different spirit about it, has a different way they want to play and statement they want to make. Then it becomes a matter of your preference, of what you like best, that defines what the best guitar player is.

I just like people that are gifted, and people that are musical, and they play what’s in their hearts and what they feel. If you feel it like they do, game over. If you don’t, you move on. Not every great guitar player moves me. It might move you. I think we’re lucky that we can be subjective and not have to all feel the same way about the same things.

Let’s close with a lightning round. Anything goes, whatever comes to mind. An album you wish you had played on.

Hotel California.

A song you wish you had written.

“’Till I Gain Control Again” by Rodney Crowell.

A session in which you wish you could have been a fly on the wall.

“Together Again” by Buck Owens.

A concert you attended that made your head spin.

Paul McCartney.

A guitar solo you wish you could claim as your own.

Oh, gosh. I might have to go with a Chet Atkins solo, because he’s the first person I ever saw play live when I was a little boy.


Editor’s Note: Check out part one of our Good Country conversation with Vince Gill here.

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Photo Credit: David McClister

You Gotta Hear This: New Music From Brit Taylor, Trey Hensley, and More

Happy Friday! We have new music for you to enjoy and, as always, You Gotta Hear This.

To start us off, Chicago Farmer (singer-songwriter Cody Diekhoff), shares a nostalgic and stripped-down country song, “The Twenty Dollar Bill,” that pays tribute to his grandparents and the “family roots” that he takes with him wherever he goes. The track is from his brand new album, Homeaid, which is out today. Kentuckian country singer, songwriter, and artist Brit Taylor has a new album today as well, Land of the Forgotten. To celebrate, we’re sharing “Done Pretending,” a song from the project co-written by Taylor, Adam Wright, and Jon Decious that decries relationships that are all “take” and no “give.”

There’s plenty of excellent guitar picking included here, too. Bryan Sutton returns to the roundup, this time with blues guitarist Joe Bonamassa in tow. The pair duet on Bill Monroe’s “Blue Night,” acoustic and electric guitars in shred-tastic dialogue on the classic number. The track comes from Sutton’s upcoming duets album, From Roots to Branches. Then, bluegrass and Americana flatpicker Trey Hensley calls on his friend and fellow guitarist Molly Tuttle for his new single, “Going and Gone.” Hensley penned the song with Bobby Starnes and features the bluesy, breakneck picking for which he has become known.

To wrap up, we have a new music video featuring lush and groovin’ Americana from YARN, a genre blurring-and-blending outfit that has been performing and recording for more than 20 years. For a song considering existence, fate, and the rat race at large, “Might as Well Be King” has an exquisite, gritty vibe – an excellent harbinger for the group’s new album, Saturday Night Sermon, arriving in April.

Whether your tastes lean towards bluegrass, blues, country, or Americana – You Gotta Hear This!

Chicago Farmer, “The Twenty Dollar Bill”

Artist: Chicago Farmer
Hometown: Delavan, Illinois
Song: “The Twenty Dollar Bill”
Album: Homeaid
Release Date: March 6, 2026
Label: LoHi Records

In Their Words: “When I was in high school my grandma started giving me a $5 bill to keep in my shoe for emergencies. When I told her I was going to be a musician she upped it to a $10. When I told her I was moving to Chicago she said, ‘You’re going to need a $20.’

“My grandfather lived pretty much his whole life in the same farmhouse that he grew up in. He was a storyteller from a small town and sharp as a tack. Grandma was a city girl, she grew in Peoria, Illinois. The home of Richard Pryor. She rode the city bus and had street smarts. Together, there wasn’t much they didn’t know or couldn’t fix or remedy. Grandpa passed away a few years ago just shy of 102. Grandma will be 98 this summer. They’re farmers, they’re veterans, and they’re my family roots that I take with me wherever I go. In song and in my heart. This song is for them.” – Cody Diekhoff, Chicago Farmer


Trey Hensley, “Going and Gone” Featuring Molly Tuttle

Artist: Trey Hensley
Hometown: Jonesborough, Tennessee
Song: “Going and Gone” featuring Molly Tuttle
Album: Can’t Outrun The Blues
Release Date: March 6, 2026 (album)
Label: Pinecastle Records

In Their Words: “I wrote ‘Going and Gone’ with Bobby Starnes the same day that he and I wrote ‘Can’t Outrun the Blues.’ And I immediately loved both of those songs. It’s one of those story songs that just falls together and paints a picture without spelling out every detail. ‘Going and Gone’ was the first song we recorded for the project – and I was thrilled to get my friend and one of my favorite guitar players and singer-songwriters, Molly Tuttle, to join in on guitar and vocals. We had a blast getting to work together in the studio and I think that comes through in the final recording!” – Trey Hensley


Bryan Sutton, “Blue Night” with Joe Bonamassa

Artist: Bryan Sutton
Hometown: Nashville, Tennessee
Song: “Blue Night” with Joe Bonamassa
Album: From Roots to Branches
Release Date: March 6, 2026 (single)
Label: Mountain Home Music Company

In Their Words: “I couldn’t be more thrilled to have Joe Bonamassa on this duets project. I’ve been a fan of his for a long time. I wasn’t sure what he would play when we cut this song, because all of this was acoustic. I love that he played electric guitar. I love the fact that it’s a different kind of song for this record and being able to interpret an old Bill Monroe song like this was just really, really fun.” – Bryan Sutton

Track Credits:
Bryan Sutton – Acoustic guitar, vocal
Joe Bonamassa – Electric guitar


Brit Taylor, “Done Pretending”

Artist: Brit Taylor
Hometown: Hindman, Kentucky
Song: “Done Pretending”
Album: Land of the Forgotten
Release Date: March 6, 2026
Label: RidgeTone Records, distributed by Thirty Tigers

In Their Words: “I wrote this tune with Adam Wright and Jon Decious – two of the most clever humans I know.

“I don’t know if other women have ever felt this way, but I have been in more than a few relationships that were a whole lot of take and basically no give. Then I realized that once you’ve given all you can give and done all you can do, you reach a point where there’s nothing left. No sadness, no anger, no regret – you are just done. That’s where the character is at in this song. She’s basically emotionless about it. She’s just done and she’s at peace with it.” – Brit Taylor


YARN, “Might As Well Be King”

Artist: YARN
Hometown: New York City, New York
Song: “Might As Well Be King”
Album: Saturday Night Sermon
Release Date: March 6, 2026 (single); April 24, 2026 (album)
Label: 333 Entertainment

In Their Words: “Let the good times roll. We don’t know why we’re here or how any of this existence even works. Is it all fated? Is it all free will? So many folks in competition with each other fighting over some made up ‘green god,’ because they’re taught that is the way. But, it’s entirely up to us as individuals to define our own way. Nothing is law, there are no rules, this is whatever we make it. So the point of this song is nothing more than, don’t put too much stock in these ridiculous systems we’ve created. Have fun being human, embrace your human form and being able to do whatever you want with it; it doesn’t last long.” – Blake Christiana

Track Credits:
Blake Christiana – Lead vocals, guitar
Andy Thomas – Lead guitar, backing vocals
Rick Bugel – Bass
Robert Bonhomme – Drums
Damian Calcagne – Hammond B3


Photo Credit: Brit Taylor by Sammy Hearn; Trey Hensley by Cora Wagoner.

Steve Poltz Loves a Tangent

Steve Poltz has built a career by following each song wherever it wants to go. Sometimes that means a meticulously fingerpicked melody. Sometimes it means a story that veers off into comedy, confession, or absurdity before circling back to the heart of the matter. That tangential nature – equal parts songwriter, raconteur, and road-tested troubadour – has become his signature, especially onstage, where no two of his shows are ever the same.

Poltz’s new album, JoyRide (released January 30, 2026), reflects that same restless curiosity. Trim, deliberate, and capped at 10 songs, it distills decades of touring, collaboration, and lived experience into a tightly sequenced record designed to be heard in one sitting. From satirical observations about modern life to deeply personal reflections shaped by years on the road, JoyRide captures Poltz at a moment of clarity – still chasing the perfect song, still trusting instinct over plan, and still finding meaning in the long way around.

Long before JoyRide, Poltz earned his reputation the slow way – by logging miles, swapping verses with fellow songwriters, and learning how a room breathes. Founder of the San Diego-based rock band the Rugburns and co-writer of Jewel’s breakthrough “You Were Meant for Me,” he has never been defined by that early success, instead carving out a singular path marked by humor, humility, and an almost reckless openness.

In a conversation with BGS, we spoke with Poltz about the making of JoyRide, the longtime relationships that have sustained him, and the zany, unpredictable ride that has been his career. Whether sharing a bill with old friends or holding a crowd rapt with nothing more than a guitar and an improvised aside, Poltz approaches music less as a performance than as a conversation – one where the destination matters less than the unexpected connections made along the way.

Let’s start with early memories. Was there a moment when music really clicked for you?

Steve Poltz: I remember when I was in second or third grade, I stuttered, had asthma, eczema, and I didn’t hang out with many people. I started playing guitar when I was six. So I brought the guitar to school for show and tell. And I sang the song “Sloop John B” in class. And other kids brought snakes, brought their moms who were nurses or doctors or firemen, and their dads and stuff. I sang a song on guitar. I went out and sat alone. I remember I opened my lunch and I looked up and there were six girls around me. I thought, “This is all I have to do!” That was it. That was the plan.

I had a friend who was a DJ at San Diego State University [radio station] KCR, and she moved in with these roommates. They had brought this record by that had just come out by this woman named Rickie Lee Jones. It was her eponymous debut LP. And, oh my God, I listened to that record nonstop. There was a song called “On Saturday Afternoons in 1963,” which is still one of my favorite songs. It was in the movie Stripes with Bill Murray.

Man, two years ago I played Byron Bay Bluesfest in Australia and Rickie Lee Jones was on after me. Just the way the world works and the universe works, I knew her percussionist who plays the vibes, Mike Dillon. He sees me, and he’s sitting with Rickie Lee Jones, who’s like my hero. She’s one of my favorite lyricists ever. I’m a Dylanologist, and still, Rickie Lee Jones – those first two records especially – her poetry, the way she puts the songs together, I put it at the top of my whole pyramid.

[At Bluesfest] I told her I’d do a cover of “On Saturday Afternoons in 1963” and I segue into it from John Hartford’s “Presbyterian Guitar.” She loved John Hartford, too. She comes out during the song in front of 5,000 people, sings the second verse, and I just started crying. It was one of those full circle moments. These are the people that are my heroes.

You’ve become very deliberate about keeping your albums, like JoyRide, short and sweet. Why?

We’re just in such a quick world, where people don’t have the attention span. I’ve come to this conclusion that 10 songs is the perfect amount of songs to have on a record. Leave all these other ones on the cutting room floor. Put them out later on B-side compilations or something. Keep it under 33 minutes. It fits on vinyl perfectly. It doesn’t lose any of the resolution. If people are into you, it’s not too hard to give 32 minutes of your time. My hope is they go, “Let’s hear it again.” That’s my fantasy. One day I’ll get it right.

You’re known as a road warrior. What still thrills you about touring?

I feel like I’m kind of like the Grateful Dead in that I’m better experienced live than on record. Live, there’s magic. I’m still looking to make the perfect record. Maybe when I’m 80. I can’t believe Bob Weir just died, I mean he’s so young, 78. I’m like, “God, that’s like 12 years older than I am, I better get my shit together.”

I love it when things don’t work on the road. When something goes wrong, when animals attack. It took me a lot of years to get there, but sometimes things are really good when they don’t work. It messes with the audience. It’s like mental jiu jitsu.

Perhaps not surprisingly, you often reference comedy as an influence. How important is humor to your music?

I loved Andy Kaufman. I loved Richard Pryor. The early Steve Martin albums, Cheech and Chong – I memorized all that stuff. When I heard Allan Sherman sing “Hello Muddah, Hello Faddah!” I remember thinking, “Why can’t every song be like this?” Same thing with listening to the Dr. Demento [radio] show. Dr. Demento was huge. He played the Rugburns [on his show]. “Weird Al” Yankovic used to come to our shows and loved [our 1995 record] Dick’s Automotive. Because of that song, he wrote “Albuquerque.”

What are some of your earliest musical memories? You mentioned Rickie Lee Jones earlier. What are some other early prominent memories of being moved or touched by a song? Where were your first performances?

My uncle took me to see Julian Bream at the Hollywood Bowl. Classical guitar. That was it. I wanted to learn classical guitar. You know, with my left foot up on a stool, with a nylon string guitar, the way you hold it all in the proper classical way. I learned to read music. Fernando Sor’s etudes. My first gigs were in Mexican restaurants in San Diego. Four hours of classical guitar. Free meals. One night I got the courage to sing “Time in a Bottle.” The waitress said, “I didn’t know you could sing.” That night ended with me running out a window and leaving my left shoe behind. I never went back to that restaurant.

And then there was another one in El Cajon and it was called El Amigo. The El Amigo Ballroom. Then I got a job at Round Table Pizza in La Mesa. I got fired because I sang on the mic and I sang “The Rodeo Song.” One night, I got really drunk with the manager and I didn’t know the owner was in the audience. That was where I kind of learned mic control, because the manager was like, “Man, you’ve got a good voice for speaking. I want you to be the guy who says, ‘McDonald, party of four, you’ve got a large pepperoni pizza.’”

One night the manager got me really drunk. He was a younger guy. I started singing “The Rodeo Song,” which was this Canadian song that went, “Well, it’s 40 below and I don’t give a fuck, got a heater in my truck and I’m off to the rodeo.” And the chorus goes, “You piss me off, you fucking jerk, you get on my nerves.” It’s like a really juvenile song that was played on the radio in the late ‘70s. They would have all these bleeps where the cuss words were. And I sang it on the mic. Then the next morning I got a call from the manager. He’s like, “You need to come in and pick up your check.” I said, “We’re getting paid early.” And he goes, “No, you’re fired. We need pizza makers, not entertainers.”

Let’s talk about JoyRide. Tell us about the opening song, “If It Bleeds, It Leads.”

It started with a guitar riff. A major seventh chord. Then the melody. Then the words came. And the next morning when I woke up, I was kind of laughing. I always saved ideas, it’s like a junkyard of melodies, words, everything in my iPhone on my notes page, and then also in my voice memos. And I went, “Oh, this fits.” [Quotes:]

I can never watch the news with you because you yell back
You scream like they can hear you in the television set
What am I to do when all you’re doing is yelling at the top of your lungs?
You’re even scaring all the pets.
You’re scaring all, you’re scaring all, you’re scaring all the pets.

And it just worked out perfectly. You just kind of shave off syllables and fit it into this sort of Sudoku puzzle or something.

And next thing you know, it’s like you’re fishing and you have this song on the line. Like, where do I want it to go next? You can say, “I remember one time when you went and grabbed your pistol.” And so that harkens back to Elvis Presley, who I was lucky enough to meet when I was nine years old. He put me on his shoulders. I’m like, “I gotta name check Elvis in this.”

The songs comprising JoyRide seem especially quirky, even by your standards. Can you tell us about some of the ones that you have the most affection for?

“Petrichor,” which is track two, I really love because it’s really fast fingerpicking. I wrote that with Gary Nicholson, who wrote a bunch with John Prine and toured with Guy Clark. He’s just a wonderful songwriter. I went over to his house and I was like, “I have this idea for this song called ‘Petrichor.” I showed him the guitar riff, we wrote that song, and it’s a banger. I love playing that live. There’s one called “At It Again” that I wrote with Jim Lauderdale that I love playing live, and I love playing “Love a Little Bigger.”

There’s a song called “Hair Lift,” where I learned a tuning from Richard Thompson. It’s just my E string goes down to C and my A string goes down to G, and everything else is the same. He uses that tuning in “1952 Vincent Black Lightning,” but he capos it up. So I took that tuning and wrote this song called “Hair Lift.” I love singing that song because it’s got lines in it that are just so goofy, they still make me laugh. Stuff that I find funny, not everybody else does, which makes me laugh even harder.

My favorite one to do live is called “The Son of God,” and that’s because I get to play myself and Jesus. I’m having a conversation with Jesus, and that whole song came about because when I was a kid – it’s one of my fondest memories – [there] was this door-to-door salesman [that] came to our house. He was selling Funk & Wagnalls encyclopedias. Dude, it was like a new iPhone. All the answers to everything were in this set of encyclopedias, and I begged my parents to get them. I begged them and they got the Funk & Wagnalls encyclopedias for me.

My mom said, “You gotta read every one of them cover to cover.” And I did. Every day I would just read the encyclopedia, because I found all this knowledge so fascinating about everything. Words I’d never heard of and countries I’d never heard of. Niger! I mean, come on. And I’d want to read everything about it. So I was thinking when I made up this song, “The Son of God,” like, “Hey, whatever happened to all those Funk & Wagnalls encyclopedias?” I had this fantasy that Jesus called me up and he was trying to get rid of them, because you have to have a storage unit in heaven.

What came together perfectly on this record?

It’s hard to get me into the studio, so just that it happened is like a dream. I’m always on the road. But I recorded at this guy’s house in Nashville. The vibe was good. That’s everything to me. I wrote songs with Jim Lauderdale. One with Vince Herman. It all came together naturally.

You spent ten years in Nashville before returning to San Diego. What did that city give you?

From the moment I got there, it was where I was meant to be. Everywhere you go, you’re making contacts. Coffeehouses are where everything happens. People are polite. You don’t know who anyone is. Your Uber driver might get you a record deal. I remember I was at this coffeehouse and I looked over and there was Lisa Loeb, who I hadn’t seen in years because I toured and opened for her back in the ‘90s. I hadn’t seen her since that tour and she just happened to be in town and I was in this coffeehouse and she was like, “Steve?” “Lisa?” And she said, “You know, I always come here to write and hang out.” Then, the same coffeehouse, there is another amazing person just a week later. And then at a different coffeehouse, Jim Lauderdale. Then me and Jim became really close – and must have like 30 songs [written together] – and it just went on and on and on. Like wherever I went, I was just making contacts.

Circling back to where we started our conversation, some people don’t want humor or irony or banter in their music, staples and bedrocks of JoyRide and perhaps your entire career. How do you continue to approach and navigate those variables?

Luckily, there are hundreds and thousands of artists for everything. Some people want to slam dance or listen to really serious bluegrass. Some want to cry. My audience wants stories. They want to laugh and to cry. They want to hear some guitar playing. In today’s world, part of the whole thing is you got to be consistent, you’ve got to get out there, and you got to keep doing it, because nobody’s going to just tap you on the shoulder and say, “Hey, kid, I’m going to make you a star.” It just really doesn’t happen.

I like small rooms. Low ceilings. Shoulder to shoulder. Quiet listening rooms. Tangents. That’s the ultimate job.


Photo Credit: Jay Blakesburg

Yamaha’s Atmosfeel Was
Created by Musicians for Musicians

The great Doyle Dykes once remarked, “The Bible says, ‘Sing unto the Lord a new song and play skillfully with a loud noise.’ Of course, I guess it helps to have a good amp to do that!” The team at Yamaha Guitars has taken that theory a step further to include a good pickup/preamp system. That’s why they designed Atmosfeel.

Atmosfeel is user-friendly, easy to use, and available in the X models of Yamaha’s exquisite FG Red Label acoustic guitars and concert-size FS series. Its 3×3 concept – three elements, three knobs – may appear simple, but in fact it was almost five years in the making.

According to Yamaha Guitars marketing manager Brandon Soriano, development of the Atmosfeel system began in 2014, prior to its original launch, plus an additional three years leading up to the FG/FS9X guitars.

Like all Yamaha products, Atmosfeel was created with the musician in mind, says Soriano. “Yamaha’s consistent process is that we include a lot of feedback from artists, from our internal employees, and from partners we work with. This pickup system was geared toward artists and performers from the very beginning, so their feedback was essential in crafting this system.”

There is no shortage of choices when it comes to acoustic guitar pickups and preamps. What makes Atmosfeel different? Once again, says Soriano, it comes down to R&D by musicians, for musicians. With guitarists often searching and settling for what he calls the “least bad” option, Yamaha was determined to offer “actively good” the first time, every time, with technological advancements that don’t require an engineering degree and 200-page manual to make the magic happen.

“What we noticed is that the pickups on the market tended to not sound like your guitar,” says Soriano. “There was the sound of your guitar in the room, and then this other sound that happens when you plug it in. Our goal was to make a pickup system that sounds natural – a true representation of the guitar you have, of your tone onstage, while keeping it simple enough to use and easy enough to make changes on the fly, and to have the same sound in the room and through the speakers when you plug it in.”

Atmosfeel was developed alongside the FG and FS guitars, which allowed Yamaha to voice the pickup system to specific models within the series, guaranteeing accuracy and precision at every level. “Our process is so in-depth that we leave no stone unturned,” says Soriano. “For example, the 9 grade FG and FS guitars have Adirondack tops, which are a different stiffness than the Sitka tops you’ll find on the 3 and 5 grade guitars. The [more recent] 9 level guitars have a slight taper going on, where the outer edges are about .2 millimeters thinner than the center point.

“We have exact measurements of how each of those tops resonate, how they vibrate, what their headroom looks like. We have all of these [minute] details at our disposal because we made the guitars. We know that the back and sides might have a slightly different thickness between rosewood and mahogany. We know that the stiffness of Sitka and Adirondack is different to this exact measurement.

“When we’re crafting the pickup system, we take all those things into account and modify the voicing accordingly, with the ultimate goal of all these guitars outputting the most accurate sound we could possibly come up with, compared to what the guitar sounds like acoustically in the room. The guarantee is that we spent years developing this system and specifically voicing each model’s pickup system to that guitar.”

The onboard electronics and Atmosfeel system of a Yamaha FG9 MX guitar.

To further dial in accuracy and ensure that Atmosfeel could deliver anywhere, at any time, the system was thoroughly artist-tested prior to its debut.

“We come up with a voicing we’re really confident in and then we’ll bring in artists to do evaluations,” says Soriano. “In real time, we have the guitar hooked up to a computer, and a person is behind the keys adjusting the voicing based on the feedback the artist is giving us. We do this with a number of artists until we arrive at something that works for them and is the most versatile for all their different styles.”

How does Atmosfeel work, why does it work, and how does something so advanced remain simple and easy to use? This brings us back to the 3×3 concept, which was not a coincidence, says Soriano, but instead a carefully thought-out design balance between “How much is too much?” and “How little is too little?” One knob means few, if any, options, while an assortment of knobs becomes cumbersome and tricky, especially for guitarists who need quick-touch adjustments.

Atmosfeel is comprised of three elements: an under-saddle piezo pickup for low end, miniature condenser mic for mids, and proprietary, whisper-thin but deceptively strong, transducer contact sensor for overtones and clarity.

“Our approach was, first of all, to find out what are the strengths and weaknesses of all three elements,” says Soriano. “The under-saddle piezo pickups do a great job of capturing a bold and consistent low end. The weakness is that the high end has a tendency to sound unnatural to guitar players. That’s where you start to get a different sound than what your guitar is like in the room.

“The contact sheet, which is under the top wood of the guitar, is the inverse of that. It’s a paper-thin sheet that has a positive and a negative, and it captures the vibrations of the top. It’s really good at capturing air, high-end presence, and sparkle, and the low end is not as resonant.

“We’re taking the low end of the under-saddle and the high end of the contact sheet and creating what we consider to be the ideal blend between those two. That was the first step. Of course, neither of those technologies independently are completely new. Under-saddle pickups have been around for a long time. But the combination of the two, and the detail of how we blend them together, is what’s new in this system. That has created a new approach.

“The microphone, aimed at the side wood at the upper bout of the guitar on the low E string side, covers the mid-range character of the guitar, whether you choose mahogany or rosewood. Essentially, the system lets you have an ideal low end, an ideal high end, and you can blend the microphone in so that you get a mid-range to taste. We figured out how to take existing technologies to the next level and optimize them.”

All of this is controlled by three small knobs. “You get a Microphone Blend, which is really effective for shaping your midrange and overall character,” says Soriano. “You get a Master Volume, which is essential, and then the Bass EQ is really interesting.

“When you’re playing live, a lot of feedback can happen in the bass frequencies. The Bass EQ is a cut or boost knob, which can help with controlling feedback or warming up your signal. If you’re playing solo and need to take up more room in the mix, you can crank that Bass EQ knob. Vice versa is true as well. If you’re playing with a band and there’s a bass player, you don’t want to step on their toes, so you’re probably going to want to roll off some of that bass.

“The Microphone Blend can be used to pop in and out of featured parts or solos. If you need a smaller, more compressed sound just to be in the background, you might use less of the Mic Blend. When it’s time for you to step out and take your chorus, you can crank that microphone up, stick out in the mix momentarily, and turn it back down when the time is right.”

Atmosfeel was designed for player flexibility – style, genre, attack, in the studio, onstage, on your own, with a band. Wherever you go, whatever and however you play, the system’s versatility works with you and for you.

“If you’re an arena- or stadium-level act, chances are you have a pretty silent stage,” says Soriano. “Those acts today are using a lot of in-ear monitoring. You can get away with a lot of Microphone Blend in that setting, because you don’t have sound coming back at you with an onstage wedge, and the risk of feedback is probably lower. Also, in a larger space, the sound has more room to dissipate.

“If you’re in a coffee shop, you have a floor wedge aimed at you, and the room is small, your risk for feedback might be pretty high. In that instance, you want to reduce the Microphone Blend and maybe the Bass EQ to accommodate for those things.

“And, of course, everything in-between exists as well – clubs, mid-sized venues, things like that. The system lets you tailor your settings to each of those without being too complicated. It’s just three knobs. If you know how to use them, you can optimize your sound for whatever setting you’re in.”

Yamaha designed Atmosfeel with musicians’ peace of mind foremost, meaning durability on the road and reliability onstage and in the studio. Choose your settings and rest assured they will remain in place, even if you don’t. “The Bass EQ knob has a notch at 50 percent,” says Soriano. “When you get to that spot, it locks you into place. Of course, it’s not too hard to move out of that space, but it certainly will not move on its own.”

Best of all, the 3×3 setup means easy to use, easy to remember. “Even the highest level of professional musicians are human,” says Soriano. “When you’re onstage, you have adrenaline going, and you have to make quick decisions, you don’t want to pause and remember which one of your seven knobs does what. You want to reach down and do what you need to do quickly so you can get on with the performance. The three-knob system is extremely user-friendly for that. You don’t have to spend time thinking about it before making an adjustment.”

Atmosfeel is perfect for recording in a pro studio, home studio, or on the road. “The vast majority of the time, if you’re recording an acoustic guitar, you’re putting a microphone on the guitar,” says Soriano. “Nowadays, especially with the rise in home recording, a lot of people might have trouble getting a clean signal with a microphone in front of their instrument, especially if your room has a lot of reflections in it.”

What does this mean for bluegrass players?

“A lot of artists we work with are primarily bluegrass players,” says Soriano, “so bluegrass was absolutely a primary focus in the development of the FG9X guitars. Bluegrass players most commonly use dreadnought-style guitars, so when we were voicing the pickup system in the FG9’s, we knew they had to be able to use this and be happy with it. That was a big part of our testing.

“Bluegrass tends to be quite guitar-forward, especially if there’s a solo section, for example. Bluegrass players are discerning when choosing their instrument. A lot of players have a strong preference. They want rosewood or mahogany, and there’s a reason behind that. If you’re going to make that decision, and it’s going to show your artistry and your taste, you should be able to have that come through when you’re performing live, even with a pickup system.

In a world of bells and whistles, where everything has to be shiny with lots of buttons and gizmos, Atmosfeel is deliberately stripped-down – no flash, no glitter, just durability and refreshing beauty in its simplicity.

“When you have a minimal setup that’s well dialed in, well executed, and well developed, when you put that work in on the front end, you earn the ability to have a simpler user interface,” says Soriano. “Because we are so confident in the voicing of this system, and in the fidelity and quality of the components, we didn’t have to put a million knobs on the guitar. We could afford to keep it simple and be confident that it’s going to sound great.”


This content is brought to you in partnership with Yamaha Guitars. All images courtesy of Yamaha Guitars.