Tag: Guy Clark

Sarah Jarosz Studies Her Heroes While Staying True to Herself (Part 2 of 2)

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Wimberley isn’t just another “little Texas town” for Sarah Jarosz. It’s where she grew up, where she first fell in love with bluegrass, and where she found seeds of inspiration that grew into World on the Ground, her first album with producer John Leventhal and her fifth overall. From the sharp-eyed opener “Eve” to the quick-picking of closer “Little Satchel,” Jarosz gives voice to the stories of hometown life and the dreams that grow beyond it — a radically empathetic detour through her past that gives relatable depth to World on the Ground.

“Ultimately, if I’m being true to myself, if I’m moving myself within my music, then that’s the most that I can try to do as a songwriter,” she says. “That’s what has to be at the basis of any great song: a real feeling that you believe in more than anything. Even the songs where it’s written from another perspective, it’s still me in there, trying to inject what my beliefs are and what I am feeling at any given time, but in a poetic way that feels like you’re reading a story. That’s what so many great songwriters do and have done. I’m studying them and trying to honor them, but also be myself, just try to find that balance of honoring tradition and doing my own thing.”

In the second half of our two-part Artist of the Month interview, Jarosz reveals which Texas songwriters she turned to for guidance on this musical trip home, how to tackle a song about a small town, and more.

Editor’s Note: Read part one of our interview with BGS Artist of the Month Sarah Jarosz here.

The American small town is definitely well-trodden songwriting territory, and all the greats have returned to that endlessly inspirational well. Based on everything we’ve been talking about, you have different perspectives to explore, scenes to describe and a wealth of landscapes to uncover in that one place. What were you listening to when you were working on World on the Ground? Which artists did you turn to for inspiration?

Jarosz: I feel like in a way, the people I was listening to leading into this and during the recording process [were] a lot of what made me want to turn back to even writing about my Texas upbringing at all. When I was going into this, I think I had this moment. Sometimes as a writer I feel like, what should I write for the people who love my music? But I think it’s more important to say, what music do I love, and just get that zingy feeling from? How can I create that music myself? I want to write a song that I can sing and that I can believe in, because ultimately that’s all I can do.

Before John and I were locked in to work together, we met up in New York, and I played him a few ideas that I had lying around. From the get-go he was like, “Why don’t you try to change your approach and not necessarily write about your feelings and looking inward towards yourself? What if you tried to be more of a storyteller?” Just the simple act of him saying that, it changed my perspective a little bit. Simultaneously I was listening to all these Texas singer/songwriters. James McMurtry is one of my favorites of all time. I really did study his lyrics, because I think he’s one of the greatest in terms of creating these characters, but it doesn’t feel contrived — it’s like reading a novel in a song. Guy Clark, Nanci Griffith, Robert Earl Keen, Lyle Lovett — Shawn Colvin, obviously, her music was why I wanted to work with John in the first place.

I was realizing, OK, yes, so many other people have written about their hometowns — but I never have. When I started writing music as a high schooler, so much of the feeling when you’re that age is wanting to leave, writing about what you’re longing for and what’s not right in front of you. There is such a wealth of images and landscapes and memories that I have that are a part of who I am as a person, and I had never really taken the time to write about them. That’s what led to a lot of these songs. With that being said, it was never, “I want to make a concept record about my hometown.” I realized there were all these throughlines after all the songs were recorded and done.

What’s the most difficult, or moving, song for you to listen back to, or one that was hard to tackle when you were writing it?

“Maggie.” That one is based on a real person, and I don’t think that’s something that I’ve done before as a writer. Thankfully, she actually has written me since it’s been out and told me how moved she was by the song. It’s funny because there’s so much truth and honesty in a song like that, but then it’s also still being creative. The blue Ford Escape in “Maggie,” that was a car of my parents’, so it’s still songwriting and pulling images in from different inspirations but it’s not all necessary literal or the actual story.

It’s trying to pull symbols together in a way that makes the most meaning. That’s what I tried to do there. In a way, if that was the most difficult song for me to face, it’s actually turned out to be my favorite song on the record. I felt that way when we were recording it, that I was kind of hitting on something that I’ve always wanted to do and write about, but wasn’t quite ready for before. I think “Hometown” would be the other one that’s just very, very moving for me, even still, to sing — sometimes it’s hard for me to get through. Those two songs stand out in that way.

It sounds like you experienced a lot of firsts that shook up World on the Ground. How do Undercurrent and World on the Ground separate themselves in terms of the growth that went into each of them?

I think Undercurrent was a step towards wanting to just be me. The three albums prior to that were full of tons of guests on a lot of the songs. The way we made those, I would record my part, and Gary [Paczosa, who produced her first four albums] and I would invite so many of my heroes and musical friends in, and we’d just layer, layer, layer, layer with lots of different people. Undercurrent was the first album where I was like, no, this needs to be more truthful to me, and sound like that. There are four songs on that record that are literally just me and a guitar, no other instrumentation, no drums — I tried to keep things very small with that in an effort to start peeling away and finding out who I am as an artist and trying to convey that in a record format.

That felt like the beginning of that journey, and World on the Ground feels like I’m fully in that journey. I just feel like I believe in these songs more than I have in the past — nothing against my old songs, because the thing that means the most is when people say songs mean something to them, and moved them in hard and good times in their lives. I’m not trying to detract from that, but I really try to see these songs through in a lyrical way that I haven’t before. John was really key in helping me do that and trimming the fat and being really clear about what the purpose of each song, and the story that each song told. I believe in every single song so much. That’s a really kind of beautiful feeling. I’ve loved all of my records, but I haven’t felt it this strongly before.

What did World on the Ground teach you about yourself as a songwriter you didn’t already know?

It taught me that there’s always room to grow. Before I started writing this record, I had this sense of myself, where I was like, okay, these are the sorts of songs that I write, this is the vibe, and this felt like a departure from that. No matter how much you think you know or how much experience you have or whatever life has thrown your way, there’s just always more, and there’s always more to be discovered and learned. I think that was a beautiful lesson that this record taught me and sort of inspired me going forward. For me, it’s all about the songs — I think that’s also what I realized with this record. The music that I love, it all boils down to the song. That’s what I tried to focus on this time around.

Photo credit: Josh Wool

BGS 5+5: American Aquarium

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Artist: American Aquarium
Hometown: Raleigh, North Carolina
Latest album: Lamentations

Answers provided by BJ Barham

Which artist has influenced you the most … and how?

I can confidently say that I wouldn’t be the songwriter I am today if it weren’t for the discovery of Bruce Springsteen and his music in my early twenties. A friend played me Nebraska and I was floored. Must have listened to that album for a month straight. He was one of the first artists I have a clear memory of hearing and saying, “I want to do that.”

He writes these elaborate short stories set to music. The songs are expansive and cinematic. The characters are all people we know personally. Intimate snapshots into the lives of the working class. He speaks the universal language in a way not many people will ever be able to. There is something so simple, yet so complex about the way he tells stories. I don’t trust a songwriter who says they aren’t a fan of Springsteen.

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

I read a lot. I usually prefer fiction, but I’ll occasionally do a deep dive into a music-related autobiography. I tend to go for Southern writers and gravitate to the darker side of the genre. My songs take place in the darker corners of the Southern experience, so it doesn’t surprise me that my literary taste tend to go there as well. Faulkner, O’Connor, Harper Lee. The greats are what sucked me in.

I’ve been reading a lot of Cormac McCarthy, David Joy and Barry Hannah as of late. There is a familiarity of place that I really enjoy about them. I think a lot of the flaws in the characters of my songs are a direct result of the books I read in my leisure time. In my lifetime, literature has informed so much of what I know about people, I would be lying if I said it didn’t have an effect on me as a writer.

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

The first time I played songs in front of people I was hooked. I was double majoring in political science and history at NC State University with every intention of going to law school after my undergraduate work. Then I fell in love with songs. I remember the first show like it was yesterday. Me and some friends from high school played (horribly) at Tate Street Coffee in Greensboro, North Carolina, in front of about 20 people. I was hooked. I became a student of every aspect of the trade. Songwriting. Performing. Business. There was no looking back after that first show. I had found my calling.

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

I played a lot of sports growing up and every time I would complain about a loss or another player just getting a “lucky” shot, my father always said that “luck was the product of hard work” and that is something that has always stuck with me. Work Hard. Get Lucky. It’s so simple, yet so profound. I have those words tattooed across my chest to remind me every morning that luck is not just something that happens to people. There’s a really great quote about luck being the intersection of hard work and opportunity. I think that was what my Dad was trying to say all those years ago, just a little less poetic.

When I started this band back in 2005, I knew I wasn’t the best writer. I knew I didn’t have the best voice. The one thing I did have control over was how hard I was willing to work. I truly believe that willingness to outwork anyone that was better than me is the only reason that I am where I am today. I get to earn a living from writing songs and playing them for people because I dedicated myself to the craft of songwriting and refused to take no for an answer. Some friends always say that I’m so lucky to be able to play music for a living. I just smile and silently thank my father for the lessons he instilled in me at such an early age.

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

When I first started writing songs, they were extremely detailed and autobiographical accounts of my youth. The partying, the mistakes, the love lost. As I got older, I started moving more toward character based fictional narrative. Don’t get me wrong, there’s a little bit of myself in every single one of my characters. Some more than others. I believe it’s important to always add those dashes of personal experience into the songs. It makes them more believable to the listener and allows you to fall into those characters as you perform these songs every night.

The fiction is where you have the ability to make the songs universal and not just about you. The bigger picture versus the guy looking back at you in the mirror. I think part of the craft of songwriting is learning that balance. The greats came out of the gate with that gift. The rest of us had to learn it the hard way. It took me quite a few years to stop writing about the person that I currently am and start writing about the better versions of myself that I hope to become.

Photo Credit: Cal & Aly

MIXTAPE: Caleb Caudle’s Country Funk Favorites

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There’s a special thing that happens when the groove of soul music meets the sharp pen of country music. I’ve heard folks call it Country Soul, Country Funk, Cosmic American Music or simply “The Rub.” I refer to it as Down Home Funk. It keeps the toes tapping and the mind thinking. The special blend is a sound I gravitated towards a few years ago and it really made its way into my new record, Better Hurry Up. — Caleb Caudle

Guy Clark – “Texas Cookin’”

Guy comes out swingin’ on his sophomore record with the funkiest rhythm to any of his tunes up to that point. It’s so greasy and I’m hungry just listening to it right now. Long live food in songs!

Bill Withers – “Grandma’s Hands”

Drenched with nostalgia, this is one of my favorite tunes from Mr. Withers. He puts his personal experiences in a songs and something personal becomes so relatable. It gets me thinking about my own grandma. I’m a sucker for that Wurlitzer.

Bobbie Gentry – “Louisiana Man”

The first time I heard this tune was on a Doug Kershaw record. I love how she makes it her own. She has one of my very favorite voices. Even got a little bitty muskrat cousin! Bless it.

The Band – “Up on Cripple Creek”

I mean who am I kidding? This whole playlist could be The Band. They changed the way I heard music. They take every brand of roots music and blend it up effortlessly and effectively. God bless Levon Helm and all of his magic. I’ve touched the horseshoe at Big Pink on three separate occasions. It’s a healthy obsession.

Jeannie C. Riley – “Back Side of Dallas”

I got turned on to this tune from the Cocaine & Rhinestones three-parter on “Harper Valley PTA.” I love the vocal delivery here. Total swagger. The band is bold and the lyrics are gritty. Just feels real man, I dig it.

JJ Cale – “Lies”

His groove is so perfect, I feel like he drops the listener right into it. His guitar tone is always so on point. I’ve spent way too much time watching YouTube videos and trying to figure out what all is going on. Lies, Lies, Lies!

Townes Van Zandt – “Where I Lead Me”

I like sad TVZ a lot but I love TVZ when he has a chip on his shoulder and a blues band behind him. Everything feels nice and loose. I’ve always loved the line “In the meantime, make a little money and buy a little mercy”

Aretha Franklin – “The Weight”

As much as I love the original from The Band, I consider this the definitive version. The band is great, especially that slide work from Brother Duane. She is peaking the mic all over this one and it’s just so perfect.

Bobby Charles – “Small Town Talk”

Being from a small town, this one hits home. I love this Bobby Charles self-titled record. I hope more folks get turned on to it. The whole record sounds like a ferry ride down the Mississippi River. Who are we to judge one another? That could cause a lot of hurt.

Dolly Parton – “Jolene”

What hasn’t been said about this tune? I think the greatness comes from it still sounding fresh to this day. The riff, the vocal, the lyrics… this is a perfect song. I’m sure it really stood out on country radio at the time. It’s haunting. I can’t remember a time when I didn’t know this song.

Leon Russell – “Tight Rope”

Like The Band, I’m sure I could have made this whole playlist the master of space and time. He’s peculiar and familiar at the same time. I like the way this one bounces. A great opening track for my favorite record of his, Carney.

Linda Ronstadt – “Willin’”

I was familiar with the Little Feat version because it was all over classic rock radio when I was growing up. I recently got turned on to this take, I really love how patient it is. Great vocal take from Linda.

Photo credit: Laura E. Partain

Steve Wariner’s Signature Hit? That’s Tricky

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One of Nashville’s good guys, Steve Wariner will be inducted into the Musician’s Hall of Fame in Nashville this month, recognizing his versatility as a lead guitarist and as a hired hand for legends like Chet Atkins, Bob Luman, and Dottie West. He’s also been a Grand Ole Opry member since 1996, although the Indiana native’s been performing there long before receiving that honor, both as a solo artist and a sideman.

From drinking songs like “Longneck Bottle” (recorded by Garth Brooks) to weepers like “The Weekend,” Wariner’s chameleon-like ability certainly has something to do with his long career in country music. With four decades of charting singles starting in the 1970s, he has plenty of material to pull from on his Back on Life’s Highway Tour, which makes five stops in Texas within the next few weeks.

A gracious host whose collection of vintage guitars and studio gear is constantly growing, Wariner invited BGS to his home studio near Franklin, Tennessee, to reflect on a satisfying and eclectic career.

BGS: I was curious to ask you, do you think you have a signature hit?

SW: I would probably say “Holes in the Floor of Heaven,” if there was such a thing for me. I get asked about that one the most — probably that or “The Weekend.” I don’t know, I may not have a signature song, you know? A lot of artists do, they have that one. My problem is, I hopped around so much. I’d do something where somebody would cry, and then the next time I’m doing a guitar thing. Then I’d turn around and do a real country thing. And then I would do pop, like “I Got Dreams.” I never could settle on something. I always told people that would be a curse for me.

…Therefore, I don’t know if I do have a signature. With “Holes in the Floor of Heaven,” I’ve never had a song that had that impact for me, just immediately. I couldn’t even count how many letters and emails… if I could count how many times I’ve listened to people’s stories and their loss… and I don’t mind it. “The Weekend” is one that people ask about all the time, too. At shows, I cannot get away without doing “The Weekend” or “Some Fools Never Learn.”

Do you think there’s a common thread that runs through what you have recorded?

Probably not, other than I’ve tried to keep a real level of integrity, you know? I was taught early on to pick great songs if you can and try to let it always be about the song, always, and let the song always win. I was told once years ago, “Don’t cut a song unless you absolutely love it.” Because if you’re lucky enough that it could be a hit, you’ll be singing that thing the rest of your life.

This plays into the Musician’s Hall of Fame, and maybe my guitar might be the common thread. Because throughout it all, except the very early records, I didn’t play on some of those records on my own guitar. I would sit and watch other players play, and I’m thinking, “I want to be playing on my own record,” the solos anyway.

And I’ll give credit to my friend, [studio guitarist] Paul Yandell, who brought me to Chet. He went to [Wariner’s second producer] Tom Collins, and in his defense, Tom just knew me as a singer. And I wrote a little bit, too, but he didn’t know that I was a guitar player, too. Paul went to him and said, “You ought to get Steve to play on this solo.” And I think it was on “Kansas City Lights.” I always loved that about Paul, because that’s something that probably cost him a lot of work, by him saying that. Because all of a sudden I was playing on my own records from then on.

What do you remember about writing “Baby I’m Yours” with Guy Clark?

Guy Clark was amazing. I loved hanging with him. And I got to know him at that point, I got to know him really well, and then we hung out some. … We bonded and were very close after that. The main thing I remember about that day is, there was a restaurant down on Division and we went there and ate. I remember sitting there thinking, “Damn, I’m writing with Guy Clark, this is awesome.” I tried not to let him see that, but he was kind, and really open, very open.

I remember that song being more R&B, more funky, more Guy Clark. And then by the time it got to the studio… I don’t mean this in a negative way, but by the time I got with [producer Jimmy] Bowen, and all the other players in the studio, it turned into what the record is, which I’m not arguing – it’s a No. 1 record, or I think it was, or whatever it turned out to be. But it totally doesn’t sound like a Guy Clark record.

I mean if you heard the demo… which I don’t have a copy. Damn it, I wish I did. A lot of my songs I do have the work tape and it’s hilarious to go, “That’s that song? Wow.” “Longneck Bottle” is that way. If you heard my demo, you’d go, “This don’t even sound like it,” and that’s the way with “Baby I’m Yours.” The way we did it originally really sounds like a Texas thing, a Guy Clark kind of thing, and more of an R&B songwriter thing.

We talked about the span of your career, but when people look back on the ’80s and ’90s in country music, what do you hope that they remember about you, and the music that you made?

That’s a great question. I hear it a lot, “He’s a nice guy.” When I see Vince Gill, he would come up and go, “I’m the nicest guy.” And I’d go, “Dammit, no, I’m the nicest guy.” We’d get in a fistfight over it. But I don’t know, I’d like to be known as a … it makes me smile when people mention a triple threat – that I’m a guitar player, writer, and a singer. I think musicianship always means a lot for me, and I want to be taken seriously as a writer.

So I don’t know, probably those things. That stuff, I’m leaving it up to whatever somebody thinks, that’s up to them. But I guess you just want to be respected more than anything. … I always fall back to Chet. People probably get tired of hearing me talking about Chet Atkins, but he was such an important figure in my life and my career. But I watched him, and it was just his integrity. Everything he did was impeccable, and he had such great taste. And it was really respect.

The first time I recorded with him in Studio A, my first record — I love this — he had a suit and tie on, and it was like the old days: a black suit with a little white shirt and black tie. It was like going to the office, you know? When he walked into Studio A with charts in his hand, all the players got up from their posts and followed him like the pied piper over to the piano. And they all knelt down and got around him, and Chet stood in the middle. That’s not even thought of in a session these days. That’s not even close to that. I know times move on, but I’m so glad I was in the middle of that for a little bit anyway.

I guess where I was going was, I watched the way people revered Chet, and the way he was so respected. They hung on every word he was saying and his vision of, “Here’s what we’re going to do, we’re going to make this record,” and I love that. It was so good watching that. And I think respect is the main thing, just respect for what you do. Hopefully people would say that I made really good records, you know?

Photo provided by Adkins Publicity

BGS 5+5: Amy Speace

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Artist: Amy Speace
Hometown: originally from Baltimore, Maryland. Currently lives in Nashville, Tennessee.
Latest album: Me and the Ghost of Charlemagne

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

I remember from way back, because I started playing piano at age 3 (or so the story goes) and started formal lessons at 5, that I could disappear into my own world at the piano, inside the sound. I didn’t understand it but inside music was always this safe space for me.

So it’s hard to pinpoint when I wanted “to be” a musician because my earliest memories are that I was a musician. I just understood music from the start. Not that I didn’t have to work and practice, but it just made sense to me. So I’d chase that feeling back to being too short for my feet to hit the pedals practicing scales on my grandmother’s black upright piano.

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

Definitely all forms of storytelling. I didn’t write a song until I was about 28 but all through my childhood, I wrote poetry and stories and plays. I drew and painted. I read everything I could get my hands on. In college, I was a dual major in English and Theater and got obsessed with Shakespeare, Performance Art and Avant Garde Theater and Improv Comedy.

Then I went to NYC after college to study classical acting at The National Shakespeare Conservatory for two years and for the first time in my life started going to art museums and got lost in the big physical paintings of Pollock and Rothko. I lived in the Lower East Side and in Greenwich Village and really really loved living in that kind of Bohemia in my 20s.

I worked three jobs, one of which was as Lainie Kazan’s assistant on Broadway and in her cabaret shows, where I got the chance to meet so many legends of the theater. I hung out with dancers and clowns and actors and musicians and poets and we were all broke and idealistic and scrappy and I went to every show, every concert, every happening I could talk my way into.

I mean, there’s not really an art form out there that hasn’t moved me to tears and to want to create something of my own in response, from seeing Sondheim on Broadway to a poetry slam in the Lower East Side to my friend dancing burlesque. It all kind of informs whatever soup is all up there in my head, processing the pictures and the emotions and the memories. But when it gets down to pen on paper and crafting a song, I think that’s when film is really my guide: I think like a director/screenwriter/playwright. What’s the entry point in the story? What do you see out there? What’s the landscape like.

What’s the toughest time you ever had writing a song?

Easy. That will be the next one I write after I finish this one I’m working on. Because it’s always like starting over at the beginning and I go through all the fears that I’ll never write another good song again and I’ll just sink into the ocean of bad cliches and stolen melodies.

What’s your favorite memory from being on stage?

Probably the earliest, honestly. I was in 8th grade, Curtin Middle School in Williamsport, Pennsylvania. I was a very awkward, permed hair, 14-year-old. Bookworm, nerd, and not really that cool. I had joined chorus for the first time (I didn’t think I was a good singer) because my best friend Laura was a good singer and convinced me to join.

The end of the year the choir did a musical theater revue. I was kind of a class ham, very theatrical, did all the accents, and the choir director gave me a solo doing “Adelaide’s Lament” from Guys and Dolls because I could fake a good thick Bronx accent. I will honestly never forget how I felt when I stepped out onstage and the lights were on me and I disappeared into this character. It felt like the crowd roared and I got a standing ovation and the next day was like a freaking Christmas parade…

I went from being the new kid at school to everyone looking at me as if for the first time. The choir director took me aside and really encouraged me to study voice. She said, “I hear something in there…I think that you have a gift.” And literally, from that moment on, I knew I wanted to be onstage singing. I literally felt like I’d found myself that night.

I’ve had incredible stage moments, like being onstage at Town Hall in NYC opening for Nanci Griffith to a sold-out crowd — and you could hear a pin drop. To playing Gruene Hall with Guy Clark a few years before he died. To the first festival stage I was on at Glastonbury a few years back. Even to some incredible house concerts and small clubs. But that first time, it’s still so present to me, that I think that’s my favorite memory because it was when I first felt that I knew something true about myself.

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

Fascinating question. I don’t hide. I bring me into all the he’s and she’s and they’s and you’s in my song. If I don’t understand the characters’ passion, their desire, I can’t write it. So there’s got to be some autobiography in there, even if it’s masked by someone else’s story, even if it just creeps through two words in a bridge.

If I only wrote about my life and what was going on with me, literally, well, I’d have a short catalogue of songs because my life isn’t that interesting to sustain a career of writing about it. I don’t have time to hike the Himalayas or to be the captain of a ship. I’ve got a 16-month-old and an album coming out and I’ve got to get posters out and keep up with FaceTwittInstaHell. I’m tired. All the time.

Plus I have songs that need to get out and I have literally only the 30 minutes when my son may be napping to get a chorus idea down. So I have to find stories in newspapers or thieve parts of conversations I overhear or steal what you say that rhymes that you don’t even hear the rhyme. I’m always listening for ‘language of lyric’ to show up in my life and then, if I’m lucky and I can catch it, I keep it in a notebook for those naptime writing sessions.

So I may not let on that the “you” is actually “me” but it’s always a little bit of me.

Photo credit: Neilson Hubbard

Vince Gill Lets New Songs Stand Out on ‘Okie’ (Part 1 of 2)

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Regarded as one of the good guys in country music, Vince Gill has hosted countless Grand Ole Opry segments and awards shows, and he’s just as welcoming off stage, too. He generously invited the Bluegrass Situation to his Nashville home for a visit about his new album, Okie, as well as his roots in bluegrass music.

In the first part of our Artist of the Month interview, the Country Music Hall of Fame member pulls back the curtain on some of the key tracks on Okie, and explains how artists like Guy Clark, Amy Grant, and Willie Nelson influenced the album.

BGS: I’ve heard you describe this as a songwriter record, but you’ve written a lot of your hits. What do you mean when you describe this as a songwriter record?

VG: Well, I don’t think the intention of any of these songs is thinking they’ll be hits. I think that in the way of production and the instrumentation, the intent is really to never get in the way of the song. I don’t play any electric guitar on this record. I only played one or two solos on the entire record.

The rest of it is just kind of moody, ethereal, all of us playing together, and nobody stepping out so much in a big way of, “Now it’s your break, it’s time for you to play the big ripping solo.” There’s one instance of that. I think the point of it was, hopefully, that nothing ever got in the way of the song.

And there’s not big choruses with lots of harmonies. I liked Red Headed Stranger by Willie Nelson, and how sparse it was and simple. That’s what I wanted, something with a lot of space.

Did you know that going into it or did that reveal itself?

Yeah, that was the intent. I had this collection of songs. I said this would make a pretty neat, demure kind of record of not trying too hard, I guess. I mean, not singing hard and a lot of licks. Once again, there’s only one song on this record where I really cut loose and sang, and that was “When My Amy Prays.” The rest of it is just telling the story.

I even did a recitation on “Nothing Like a Guy Clark Song,” which scared the crap out of me. I don’t like the sound of my speaking voice very much. I like my singing voice just fine. But I’d only done one other kind of recitation recording in my life and that was tribute to Guy with his song, “The Randall Knife.” It always sounded bizarre to me to hear myself just talking, talking blues kinda stuff.

How did you choose the guitar for that song? Do you have a certain guitar you use?

Yeah, I think I used my guitar or Sparky’s — a friend of mine, Harry Sparks. He’s got a great old 1942 D-45. He lets me keep it here and play it a lot. It’s a long history of a story of our friendship. It’s probably the holy grail of all acoustic guitars and there’s only a few of them made and they sell for many, many, many dollars. And he had it.

I was living in Kentucky at the same time, when I was 18, and we were big buddies. Couple of years later I moved out to California and he called me up when I got out there and said, “Hey, I got to sell my D-45. I’m in trouble.” I bought it from him and told him I’d keep it for him. If he ever wanted it back, I’d sell it back to him for what I paid for it. At the time he finally called, it was worth about 10 times what I paid for it. And I said, “Yeah, I’ll sell it back to you for what I said I would.”

It’s a great story to remind yourself of how important friendship is, and your word. A few years ago we were doing a record here at my house and he brought his D-45 and we played it on a bunch in the record. He was leaving, and he had the case, and he looked at me and just handed to me. He said, “Here. You need to keep this for a while.” So it’s been a neat piece of the puzzle of our friendship.

It sounds beautiful. too, on top of that.

Amazing. It’s one of the best-sounding guitars I’ve ever heard in my life.

You write about race relations on this record a couple of times, particularly on “The Price of Regret.” I was curious if something specific inspired you to explore that topic.

It starts out as basically owning up to, we all have to have some regrets in life, and what they are can be any number of things. But what I’ve always been surprised by is how our eyes fail us. Sometimes when we see something and we look at it, we judge it. It’s the first thing we do is prejudge. Whether someone’s heavy, whether someone’s slovenly-looking, or poor or rich or white or black, and we just have this thing come to us to tell us what we think it is.

If we would honestly receive someone, not seeing them, I think you’d be much more honest in acceptance of one another. That’s what it says in that song: “You’re black and I’m white. We’re blinded by sight. Close your eyes and tell me the color of my skin.” And you couldn’t. Which would be a good thing for us.

At your Ryman show, you spoke about watching the Ken Burns documentary about country music, and you mentioned the fact that AP Carter’s sidekick was a black man, and Hank Williams learned to play guitar from a black man.

Yeah, and DeFord Bailey was one of the first great stars of the Opry and Jimmie Rodgers learned all those songs from black fieldworkers. It goes on and on and it never stops. Ray Charles taught us how much soul our music had. Charley Pride showed you how country somebody could be that was African American. It was powerful to see that we never bought into any of that mess, to some degree. And it is a mess. It’s embarrassing how we’ve handled all that.

The song I keep coming back to on here is “What Choice Will You Make.” I feel like I’m the best friend in the car, hearing that conversation. That first line puts you in the song right away, or at least it did for me.

My favorite part of that song is that it’s a song without judgment, and it happens every day. Young kids wind up, somebody gets pregnant and, “Hey, I’m 16. Look, I wasn’t prepared for this.” And all it says is, “What choice will you make? Whose heart will you break?” It doesn’t say what you should or shouldn’t do. To me, that’s a kinder way to go about tackling the subject of this matter.

The woman I wrote it with, Leslie Satcher, we’ve got a long history of writing really neat songs together. She’s tremendously talented. It was important to me that it not get to that place where we were saying what should or shouldn’t happen. That’s nobody’s place. It’s sort of like “Ode to Billie Joe.” You don’t really know what happens. It starts in that moment of sitting on the edge of town with such a worried mind, and it ends with still sitting there on the edge of town, not sure what to do.

On this record, I hear references to Amy [his wife, Amy Grant] a couple of times, on “Honest Man” and “When My Amy Prays,” of course.  What’s that experience like, playing her a song you’ve written about her?

It’s a running gag. You know you live in Nashville when you write your girl a love song and she tells you the third verse could use a little work. [Laughs] It’s really great to have a friend that does tell you what’s right and what’s not and what’s good and what isn’t. It’s easy to be inspired by her because she’s so gracious with people. She’s the most welcoming person I’ve ever seen in my whole life. Hands down. Nobody I ever seen better at that than her.

And non-judgment. No harsh words about anybody and it’s just beautiful in the way she receives. It’s kind of easy to write songs about her. If they’re songs that are faith-based, everybody assumes that I’m as a big of a church guy as she is. And the truth is, I wasn’t that much of a church kid. So I have to go to her every now and then and say, “Is this kind of close to what happens?” [Laughs] She’ll say, “You’re right on track. You’re OK.”

Read the second half of our Artist of the Month interview with Vince Gill.

Illustration: Zachary Johnson

The Show On The Road – Steve Earle

Posted on by Chris Jacobs

This week, Z. speaks with Steve Earle. The three-time Grammy Award-winning roots ‘n’ roll poet and revered performer has been releasing fearless, roguish records for nearly four decades, accidentally becoming one of the founding fathers of the thriving Americana movement along the way.

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Growing up a baseball-crazy son of an air traffic controller in San Antonio, Steve Earle has never quite checked any cliché box or stayed in any lane on the way to his almost mainstream success.

Host Z. Lupetin caught up with Steve on his tour bus before hitting the stage at ROMP Fest in Kentucky this past June. Steve has been on the road in support of his recent release, GUY — a tribute to one of his songwriting colleagues and heroes, the late Guy Clark, out now on New West Records.

LISTEN: Willie Nelson, “My Favorite Picture of You”

Posted on by Editor

As one of country music’s greatest interpreters, Willie Nelson has put his indelible stamp on Guy Clark’s late-career masterpiece, “My Favorite Picture of You.” It is a stunning centerpiece of Nelson’s latest project, Ride Me Back Home.

“What I remember most about recording the song was the reverence and respect with which all the musicians showed the lyrics and melody as we were recording it,” says producer Buddy Cannon. “I chose to present this song to Willie because, from the moment Guy Clark sang it for me at his home one morning a few years ago, I have not been able to get the song and the photograph the song was written about out of my head. As Guy was getting ready to sing the song for me he reached behind him and took the photograph of his wife off the wall and told me the story of where the song came from. The song is timeless, just like Willie Nelson is timeless. A perfect marriage of singer and song.”

In the exclusive video below, Nelson shares his own thoughts on Guy Clark and “My Favorite Picture of You.”

Photo credit: Pamela Springsteen
Video courtesy of Sony Music Entertainment

BGS 5+5: Taylor Alexander

Posted on by Editor

Artist: Taylor Alexander
Album: Good Old Fashioned Pain
Hometown: Nashville, Tennessee

Which artist has influenced you the most … and how?

This may be a little left field, but when I discovered Chris Carrabba’s music with Dashboard Confessional as an early teen it totally changed the way I looked at music. It hadn’t occurred to me up to that point what one guy and a guitar could do. It blew my mind to see a guy with an acoustic guitar impact people so greatly with his lyrics like that. His music led me directly to the greats like Bob Dylan, Guy Clark, and Townes Van Zandt, so his influence can’t be denied.

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

Reading has always informed my writing. I don’t necessarily write a song based on a book or a character that I’m reading at the time, but I often find that just the act of reading gets my writing muscles warmed up and ready to work.

Martial arts has “art” right there in the name, so I would be remiss not to mention the impact Brazilian Jiu Jitsu has had on my writing and my life. Jiu Jitsu requires a similar intentional, focused effort that writing does, and forces you to learn patience and perseverance to push through when you feel like you can’t. I try to apply that same grit to my writing practice, forcing myself to push through a block and keep working on a song until I think it’s done, and not settling for less.

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

When I was in 2nd grade I performed a really simple guitar arrangement of “Ode To Joy” for a school talent show. I was really nervous because I’d never played in front of people before, but I’ll never forget how invigorated I felt after walking off stage. I definitely caught the bug at that moment.

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

Guy Clark had the best references to food in his songs, from “Homegrown Tomatoes” to “Texas Cookin’,” so I immediately think of him. Some authentic Texas BBQ, a couple cold beers and Guy Clark playing would be about as good as it gets.

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

I realized recently that I do this quite a bit. I’ve been joking on stage about how this album is really just me talking to myself for over half an hour, and I’m not sure that I realized that while writing the songs. I don’t really write about fictional characters — when it comes down to it, I write songs to speak to myself as much as I write to speak to an audience.

Photo credit: Joshua Black Wilkins

MIXTAPE: The Mallett Brothers Band’s Favorite Artists Live

Posted on by Editor

We have just released Live In Portland, Maine and thought it would be fun to put a playlist together of some live recordings of our favorite artists. Live is where it’s at! — Andrew Martelle of The Mallett Brothers Band

JJ Cale – “River Boat Song”

JJ Cale is a favorite late-night cruising soundtrack for TMBB. If we have a late-night drive to the next gig, there’s a fairly good chance JJ Cale’s cool laid back vibe is carrying us down the road.

Jerry Jeff Walker – “Takin’ It As It Comes”

This really should be the anthem of all traveling musicians. On the road whether we’re playing the Continental Club in Austin, Texas, or Brooklyn Bowl in Brooklyn, New York, or Revolution Hall in Troy, New York, we’re all just takin’ it as it comes!

Todd Snider – “Play a Train Song”

Who doesn’t like a good ole train song! Todd Snider is certainly one of the best, his ability to tell a story through his songs is second to none. And, if you haven’t seen him live, you’re really missing out…

Jason Isbell – “Cover Me Up”

Jason Isbell is one of those artists that can cut to your soul. This recording is from the Ryman last year. Whether his time with the Drive-By Truckers or his solo stuff, he can sure write one hell of a song and put on the live show to back it up.

David Mallett – “Hard Light”

Will and Luke’s father David Mallett is one of the greatest songwriters of the last fifty years. This recording is from a live record he did years and years ago. Do yourselves a favor and dig in and see how it’s done!

Bruce Springsteen – “Born in the USA”

This recording is from Springsteen on Broadway. He’s the boss. This rules. There isn’t much more to say.

Dierks Bentley and The Travelin’ McCourys – “From the Bottle to the Bottom”

Dierks and the TMs playing one of Kris Kristofferson’s classic songs. The state of modern country music has been shaped by artists like Dierks Bentley being willing to go back to his roots and put out music that is not only mainstream country but also traditional bluegrass. And the Travelin’ McCourys are just a force, whether it’s playing gigs with their father Del or playing sets of Grateful Dead music.

The War On Drugs – “Holding On”

The War On Drugs gets plenty of airplay in the van and has helped us crisscross the country getting from gig to gig. Their sound is so unique and has a way of drawing you in to that emotional place they so often go.

Waylon Jennings – “I’m a Ramblin’ Man”

Waylon was one of the true original outlaws. He did it his way. He paved the way for so many great artists across the country to break from tradition.

Old & In The Way – “Panama Red”

Our fiddle player wouldn’t be playing fiddle if it wasn’t for this recording. Vassar Clements has a way of bridging traditional and non-traditional fiddling. Mixed with Jerry Garcia’s banjo playing and the powers of David Grisman and Peter Rowan, if this record can’t get you hooked on bluegrass than we’re not sure what can!

Guy Clark – “Stuff That Works”

Guy Clark is on of our favorite songwriting troubadours. He’s another one that gets a lot of airtime in the van. Dig in to his catalog. You’ll be a better person because of it.

Drive-By Truckers – “18 Wheels Of Love”

These guys are a constant point of inspiration for the band. They do it their way, which is usually folk with a healthy dose of rock ‘n’ roll. This is something TMBB certainly prescribes to. DBT doesn’t necessarily fit a mold, but hot damn if it doesn’t grab you by the heart with a shot of whiskey and some loud electric guitars.

Photo credit: Ray Macgregor Photography