Banjo Player Kyle Tuttle Reflects on Personal Growth and ‘Labor of Lust’

One of the most talented and sought after banjo players in bluegrass, Kyle Tuttle’s life has been full of the highest of highs and lowest of lows in recent years, from a marriage and divorce to the surprise death of close friend and bandmate Jeff Austin to the loss of his job due to COVID and finally hitting the road as a member of Molly Tuttle & Golden Highway.

All of that and more are documented on Labor of Lust (out February 16), an 11-song expedition taking listeners on a deeply personal and sonically diverse journey of tragedy and triumph. Recorded across three separate sessions in Nashville dating back to 2018, the record also documents a significant chunk of Tuttle’s life that, despite the length of time and changes that come with it, aren’t lacking a central theme. This led him to describing the project as “a long work-in-progress,” due to how its focus shifted throughout the more than five years of bringing it to life.

“By the time it was all said and done, this was a pretty eclectic group of songs,” Tuttle tells BGS. “There’s some stuff with an electric band that includes drums and me on electric banjo, others with traditional string band arrangements and some that meet in the middle for a more jamgrass sound.”

One of the songs that bridge the gap between these two worlds of bluegrass is “Hard to Say,” a song that sees Tuttle grieving the loss of Austin, his marriage, and his job all at the same time. It’s anchored by his blistering banjo backbone with introspective lyrics like, “Knowing that it’s gone and gone for good, makes you wonder what the hell you’re waiting on?” that serve as a message to himself and anybody listening to ask the questions you need to ask, then play another one.

“Even though the music and lyrics were written over a handful of years, loss and learning to deal with it on a personal level is central to this record,” indicates Tuttle. “That being said, there’s a lot of joy within these songs too. I don’t want to make it seem like I wrote music for five years and all I experienced was misery. Loss is something we all have to deal with at one time or another, and my way of dealing with it was to write some of this music.”

Speaking by phone from his snowed-in Nashville home following a mid-January winter storm, Tuttle opened up about how he approaches being a bandleader compared to his current gig with Golden Highway, being stuck in a Bob Ross painting, choosing to work doing something you love, and more.

You’re notorious for staying extremely busy in your musical endeavors, from sitting in with folks on stage and in the studio to your stints with the Jeff Austin band, (your current gig with) Molly Tuttle, and your own compositions and projects, like Labor of Lust. With that in mind, how do you approach your own music versus being a member of someone else’s band?

Kyle Tuttle: It’s a bit different, because with my own show I’m the bandleader, along with other variables. With my shows, I play with lots of different members, I don’t have one set group of people that know my body of material super well, but rather lots of friends I can call on who all have different strengths. For that reason, when fronting my own band I’m more in the headspace of trying to wrangle all these people and variables together for a cohesive show, whereas with Molly we all have our roles that are specifically defined. One role isn’t more comfortable to me than the other, they just both require different things from me.

Is that comfort what had you leaning on friends like Travis Book, Dominick Leslie, and Lindsay Lou in the studio instead of session players?

It speaks very similarly to what we were just talking about with putting together a version of the Kyle Tuttle Band for shows. I wouldn’t use the term session player though, because even though all of these people are my friends they can also be called “session players” for their work on other’s records, because they’re all so good at what they do. I pick them very specifically based on their strengths and what they’ll bring to the music. I’ve been lucky through my years in the business to build personal connections with an awesome group of people that I can call when I’m looking to create something.

Although not an original, I really enjoy your cover of Harry Nilsson’s “Turn On The Radio” that closes the album. What drew you to that song of his in particular instead of “Coconut” or another of Nilsson’s gems?

I’m gonna have to work on a “Coconut” cover next, because that song is awesome! In all seriousness, [“Turn On The Radio”] felt like a thematically appropriate way to close this album. At the end of the day, I’m just a jamgrass stoner that plays banjo wanting to make a record that people can enjoy and have fun with. This record has some heavy undertones, so I felt like it deserved a nice ribbon on top to end it. It speaks to me big time, [about] remembering those near and dear who you’ve lost, especially if they’re an artist doing something you can hear. That sentiment of “turn on your record player, listen to my song, turn on your night light baby, I’m gone” felt like the right words to capture that feeling even though I didn’t say them, Harry did! I’ve loved the song for a while, so when I began putting this record together it immediately made sense to close it with this.

In terms of your own songs, I understand that “Trailer In Boulder Canyon” came together at two different times, similar to the recording process for all of Labor of Lust?

That’s a funny one, because as I said previously, I’m just a jamgrass stoner banjo player. First and foremost it’s a fun, feel good song about a magical place — a shitty little trailer on the side of a mountain up in Nederland, Colorado, where you don’t have to worry about any of your troubles or cares and just get to play fiddles and banjos and have fun all day. There’s a great jamgrass scene up there due to Vince Herman and Drew Emmitt basically starting Leftover Salmon up there. Years later some of The String Cheese Incident guys moved there followed by Jeff Austin, leading to the eventual forming of Yonder Mountain String Band there as well. There’s such a rich history of the music I love so much in that goofy little mountain town.

I initially wrote the chorus and first verse for the song as a goofy little ditty after it bounced around in my head for a while. I went up there when Vince put together a memorial concert for Jeff to help raise money for his family and so people could grieve together and ended up writing the second half of the song driving up the canyon road to get there. So like a lot of things on this record, part of it came to me at one point before finishing it off much later.

You’ve got three instrumentals on this record and another mostly instrumental tune in “Two Big Hearts.” What variations do songs like those have compared to ones with lyrics in the creation process?

The process is relatively the same, because no matter if I write with lyrics or melody I’m starting with some short idea and building around that nugget of information piece by piece. If it’s a melody, it’ll probably come out as an instrumental, but if it’s with lyrics it’s probably going to come out as a song with vocals. Even though it’s one track, “Two Big Hearts” is really two songs. The lyrics in it don’t come in until the second song, nearly four minutes in, but I felt that both were similar enough that they should be together and presented as one idea. I don’t think I’ll ever play one part of it without playing the other.

On “Not Quite Spring,” you’re singing about being stuck inside a Bob Ross painting. How’d that idea come about?

That’s a COVID song. I was sitting around on the couch watching a lot of Bob Ross’s The Joy Of Painting, just killing time like we all were back then. All of his paintings were titled and each episode of his show is titled after the painting he does in it. [“Not Quite Spring” is season 25, episode 3]. It’s of this spooky, huge mountain that’s covered in snow and frozen. A lot of his paintings are happy sunsets and warm things like a pond reflecting the trees around it, a stark contrast to this one that’s cold, dark and lonely, which is exactly how I felt at the time trapped inside my house.

In the album’s liner notes you allude to a life in music often being painted in glamor, when in reality it’s a consistent grind where persistence pays off. Is that message of sticking to it what you’re singing about on “Saddle Up?”

“Saddle Up” is the term I have for getting up every day and doing it again. It’s the idea that you may not have succeeded today or done everything you wanted to do the way you wanted to do it, which is what I’m touching on with the lyric, “The past can’t be where my best is.”

I feel like persistence defines my own life and career. Anyone who works in pursuit of a skill or art is always striving to get better. Even outside of that, we’re all working on our personal relationships and doing better by the people around us. Hopefully our best work, whether it be art or personal growth, is ahead of us and it’s not all downhill from here. It’s also a message I wish to impart on any listener or friend going through a rough patch to remind them that brighter days are on the horizon.

With Labor of Lust’s themes of personal growth in mind, what’s one resolution you have for yourself, music or otherwise, in 2024?

I’m actually trying to play the banjo even more, not from the standpoint of traveling and playing more shows, but just tinkering with it more in my downtime. It’s an interesting duality, tying your work to something you love. It’s a tricky thing to do because the lines between work and play are instantly blurred and made one. If it’s all work and no play it makes Jack a dull boy, so my resolution is to just keep the banjo in my hands for fun and to work smarter, not harder, which comes back to the idea that the past is not where my best work is.


Photo courtesy of the artist.

BGS 5+5: The Kernal

Artist: The Kernal
Hometown: Jackson, Tennessee
Latest album: Listen to the Blood
Rejected band name: Andrew Combs’ manager (Davis Inman) talked me out of calling my band “The Kernal & His Handsome Privates”

Which artist has influenced you the most … and how?

John Hartford probably hasn’t influenced my music as much as he has inspired it (because I’m nowhere near the musician that he was), but Hartford had a way of doing things like retaining his inner 7-year-old while writing a very poignant song about society or something seemingly little but important, and doing it all at a world-class musical level. He was excellent in every aspect of the process and I just never can get enough of him. David Bowie taught me that creating music can be more multi-dimensional than the just binary relationship between singer and audience (which turned out to be really important to me) but it’s Hartford for my money.

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

I really love any form of creative output and the paths you can be led down through experiencing them. For example, I was very into a Polish filmmaker named Krzysztof Kieślowski a few years back. He did a project called The Decalogue (which I encourage everyone to watch) and he also did a color trilogy (Blue, White, Red) and I was immediately drawn in by the Red film because I had already begun this project by the time I saw it and was wearing the red suit as a theme of the project. During the movie you find out that the main character is named Joseph Kern. This freaked me out because my name is Joseph and then the whole Kern thing. I immediately felt a deeper connection with him. I love those connections you can find through dance, music, writing, any of that — they aren’t algorithmic. There’s something more real about those kinds of connections and a lot of times it seems like they find you if you’re able to see them.

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

The first time I was ever mesmerized by music was when I was around 5 years old after my sister put a 45 on the record player by The Cascades and the song was “Listen to the Rhythm of the Falling Rain.” Maybe that’s not the first time I wanted to be a musician but that song put me on the map for being enraptured by it. I saw Jose Gonzalez + Cass McCombs once in Louisville before I was doing much music and I was blown away at how incredible it was — that was around the time I started trying to write on my own. I remember doing it a lot more after that — there was something magical in the room. Bonnie “Prince” Billy was in the crowd too and I shook his hand, maybe I got the bug from him.

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

On Listen to the Blood there’s a silly tune called “Super (Marijuana) Wal-Mart” about a fictitious Wal-Mart where everything is made out of cannabis and all the old folks in this small town are up in arms about it. At the very end of the song the manager of the store comes out on a loudspeaker and tries to convince these people of all the amazing products they could purchase if they just come on inside. This part took me about a year to write because I wanted him spouting off all kinds of weird products and the cadence of it had to be just right. It may not sound like something that would take a person a year to finish, but there it is.

What has been the best advice you’ve received in your career so far?

The best advice I received was actually just a story that I was told by Norbert Putnam (legendary Muscle Shoals musician) about Roy Orbison. He told me that Roy had just gotten a new motorcycle and decided to take it down on Broadway in downtown Nashville. As he pulled up to a stoplight he noticed some teenage boys on the corner making fun and pointing at the old man on the motorcycle, not realizing it was Orbison of course. As you might expect, Orbison was incensed and began revving up the engine to show those boys that he wasn’t a chump. When the light turned green he took off but shifted wrong and the bike fell over on top of him. He had to motion to the same kids to come pull the bike off of him. Sometimes I imagine Orbison saying, “Don’t rev the engine if you can’t shift the gears.”


Photo Credit: December Rain Hansen

Gaby Moreno and Van Dyke Parks Take a Vibrant Trip Across the Americas

“Oh man, I’m forgetting.”

Gaby Moreno is trying to remember the joke Van Dyke Parks told her earlier this day.

“It was the one about…. shoot! It will come to me.”

And it does.

“It was this one: ‘There are three kinds of people in the world. Those who can count, and those who can’t.’”

Moreno laughs at the simple, if groan-worthy humor, typical of Parks’ always-stylish banter, as anyone who’s encountered the noted composer-arranger-musicologist-raconteur extraordinaire knows. But the joke, inadvertently, relates to another bit of math involving the new album, ¡Spangled! The collaboration between the Guatemala-born nightingale-ian singer Moreno and Mississippi-originated, California-rooted Parks is a vibrant trip through musics the pair have been describing as “Pan-American.”

And that involves the simple equatorial-spanning equation of 1+1+1=1.

“We wanted to imagine a project that could unite both hemispheres of the Americas,” she says. “It’s not just Latin American music, but music that crosses borders, can make us all celebrate the diversity and richness and culture that exists. It’s the whole continent. I think of it as all one America: North, Central and South. It’s a beautiful thing we should all be proud of.”

It’s also, of course, a timely album, though Moreno stresses that while the current situation regarding immigration seems quite acute and divisive, it is hardly a new issue. Parks is not so restrained in his expression, though. “I’m frightened by the toxicity,” he says, not joking at all now. “And we must push back. And my way is with this project.”

¡Spangled! slides through the 20th century and right up to today, moving with ease through countries and cultures — the songs originating in Venezuela, Trinidad, Panama, Peru, Brazil, Puerto Rico and the U.S.

That sweep is represented vividly in Parks’ orchestrations, mostly sporting a sound that can only be called cinematic, marked by such signature Parks flourishes as heavenly harps (both Latin American and “concert” variations) and soaring strings. And then there is Moreno’s naturally pure voice, oft-layered into an angelic choir, whether in Spanish, English or, on two songs, Brazilian Portuguese. The support cast also includes such notables as guitarist Ry Cooder, bassist Leland Sklar and drummer Jim Keltner, though the MVP would likely be Mexican harpist Celso Duarte.

The oldest song is the Venezuelan classic “Alma Llanera,” written in 1914. That is also the song among this batch that first came to Moreno’s attention, something that’s been part of her life since she can first remember.

“It’s kind of the second national anthem for that country. I remember growing up listening to it. My parents would listen to it in the house. It was popular all over Latin America — anyone who is Latin, you ask and they know it. I was very excited to hear what Van Dyke did with the song. He took it to another level. For me singing it, it was very emotional, given the circumstances in Venezuela now. It’s sort of my love letter to them.”

The newest is her own, the very personal “El Sombrerón,” first recorded on her 2008 album Postales in a gorgeously spare version. This one, in Parks’ hands, is anything but spare, the orchestral splendor of his approach illuminating the deep connection it holds for Moreno.

“That’s a folk legend from Guatemala,” she says. “I wrote that many years ago. It was one of the first movies ever made there. It’s about this character, El Sombrerón. And my grandfather was a character in the movie! I was watching it, and in my head I thought it could sound like a song from a Tarantino film.”

And while there is a sense of urgent purpose to it all, it is not really a political album, aside from perhaps two songs: The opening version of “Across the Borderline” (written by John Hiatt, Cooder and Jim Dickinson for the 1982 Jack Nicholson movie The Border) featuring guest Jackson Browne, serves as prologue to a vivid journey. And modern Trinidadian calypso giant David Rudder’s ever-more-topical “The Immigrants,” though written 21 years ago, puts a right-now point on it all.

But aside from that, this is mostly romantic music, from the 1955 Panamanian song “Historia de un Amor” to the ‘70s whimsical hit “I’ll Take a Tango,” written by Alex Harvey and recorded by, among others, Harry Nilsson, a close Parks associate.

“There’s love songs, songs about heartbreak,” Moreno says. “Songs about life.”

A happy album, then?

“Yes!” she says. “Absolutely! Maybe only a couple of songs aren’t. I don’t think there’s anything wrong with that. Life. Ups and downs.”

But that’s migration, too.

“It’s the story of the migration through space and time,” she says. “How the songs evolved, originated in one place and then been taken by other people. The migration of songs through the Americas.”

And that, in turn, is embodied in Moreno’s own story.

“Absolutely,” she says. “I migrated here, almost two decades ago. Yes! I am definitely an immigrant, and it’s very important for me to keep talking about the immigrant issue and how I can help make this a better place, bring some hope to people, through my art, through music. That’s what I’m most interested in.”

It is quite the story, taking her from Guatemala City to the U.S. as a teen, where she started to make a name for herself in such Los Angeles clubs as the vibrant Largo (sometimes as part of Sean and Sara Watkins’ variety-filled Watkins Family Hour shows and on bills put together by Inara George). She’s also a co-writer of the peppy instrumental theme of the hit comedy series, Parks and Recreation.

And now she has gained considerable national exposure as a regular featured guest alongside her friend Chris Thile on the NPR show Live From Here. Along the way she won the Best New Artist Latin Grammy in 2013 and was nominated for Best Latin Pop Album for Illusions for the 2017 Grammys.

Most of these songs were new to Moreno, though, brought in by Parks, whose love for Latin American and Afro-Caribbean music goes back to when he and his brother moved to California in the early 1960s and performed as a duo up and down the coast. Coming from the American South, it was almost like being in another country for them. “In California, I thought I was in Mexico,” he says.

And he embraced the exotic and worked diligently to make it familiar, first to himself and then to the world. “I studied flamenco music and all sorts of Latin music,” he says.

The initial impetus, he says, was classic, if not exactly high-minded: “I wanted to lose my virginity,” he says, thinking at the time that learning music in another language might help with that.

The fascination with the styles became its own love affair, though. He drove his Volkswagen Beetle to Veracruz and returned with a locally crafted folk harp strapped to its top. He went to see Brazilian singer Astrud Gilberto at her first appearance here, at the old Lighthouse club. Later he took his knowledge and passion into his role as a producer and executive at Warner Bros. Records, bringing it into work with Cooder, Bonnie Raitt and many others.

He deftly crafted his Pan-American sensibilities in his own cult-cherished albums, most clearly in his 1972 opus Discover America and its 1976 follow-up Clang of the Yankee Reaper, both largely drawing on Calypso hits from the first half of the 20th century. While he may be best known as Brian Wilson’s chief collaborator on the ill-fated “lost” album Smile (which would be “found” again and reconstructed in 2004), these albums of his own may make for better representations of his vision.

The vision was renewed 10 years ago when he first saw Moreno at one of those Largo shows — George is the daughter of the late Lowell George of Little Feat, with whom Park worked a lot, and he and Inara have made much music together. He was taken with her talents.

Then one day not long after, he was sitting in a hotel lobby in Berlin and a man who recognized him approached and asked if he’d like to do a special performance with an orchestra at the huge Roskilde Music Festival in Denmark in the summer of 2010. Two dates were offered, one being July 4. Pointedly, Parks took that one.

“I came back to L.A. and called Gaby,” he says, and soon the two came up with eight songs that were to be performed in that concert. From there it grew into the full album project, though with their own various commitments, and the inherent expenses of doing it, it took this long to complete. Now there are talks of some sort of full performance of the album, possibly next year. Moreno will be featuring at least a few of the songs in concerts with orchestras Dec. 2 at the Kaufman Music Center in New York and Dec. 6, with Ben Folds as well, at the Kennedy Center in Washington D.C.

It’s not hard to imagine the presentation almost as a musical, or at least a song-cycle, perhaps evoking a time suggested by the arrangements, a time that for Parks brings to mind another Pan American, as in the now-gone airline of that name.

“We can remember when people dressed up to go on an airplane to go find out about music and culture, and people were not so xenophobic,” he says.

Nostalgic fantasy? Maybe. But with ¡Spangled! it’s also a wish for the future.

“It’s a trip back to see what we have lost in our sense of inquiry and the xenophobia of this president,” he says. “That’s why we did this album. Someone said, ‘You’re going all over the place on this!’ Yes! We are!”


Photo credit: Andrzej Liguz

Caleb Elliott Combines ’70s Soul, Strings, and Sad Songs on ‘Forever to Fade’

Caleb Elliott’s Forever to Fade is a truly unique artistic statement, one that combines cinematic string arrangements with Muscle Shoals-inspired grooves. It’s a musical hodgepodge in which you can hear everything from hints of ’70s soul (“Makes Me Wonder”) to what Elliott calls “my little Harry Nilsson moment” (“Try,” a forbidden love song that features some cheeky whistling).

But those sounds weren’t ones he grew up listening to. His parents were followers of The Message, the teachings of evangelical faith healer William Branham, whose 1961 Armageddon prophecy reportedly inspired cult leader Jim Jones to set up his Jonestown settlement the following decade. This strict religious upbringing meant there was no TV in their house and secular music was strongly discouraged.

“I would venture to say no, I was not allowed [to listen to secular music], but the technically right answer was I could do what I want, it was just very frowned upon,” Elliott explains. “And especially like the churches we were going to, it was very frowned upon. We were guided towards the contemporary Christian realm, which was as rock ‘n’ roll as it got for us. Switchfoot was my Beatles, you know, in high school.” He laughs. “Sad to say. I probably shouldn’t be telling you that. I didn’t really get exposed to the good stuff until a little later.”

Raised in Louisiana, Elliott started playing the cello in third grade and “it sort of became my little kid identity because no one else played the cello, and I wasn’t bad at it,” he explains. But his real exposure to pop and rock music didn’t happen until much later in life.

“I remember going off to college and my taste in music was still very, very underdeveloped,” he continues. “I was on a long arc of discovery. I don’t feel like I started listening to really, really good stuff until I was in my twenties, even after college. I mean, I delved a little bit into the Beatles but I dove more into like Neil Young and Bob Dylan when I got more towards my mid-twenties—really when I started hanging out with better songwriters and that’s who they were listening to. And I was like, ‘Wow!’ I started to get it.”

For the past seven years or so, Elliott has made his living as a sideman, touring with the likes of Nicole Atkins, Dylan LeBlanc, and Travis Meadows and becoming a string-section staple at Single Lock Records, the Alabama-based label and studio co-founded by The Civil Wars’ John Paul White and Alabama Shakes’ Ben Tanner, recording with White, Lera Lynn, Donnie Fritts, and more.

Being surrounded by songwriters and spending time with them on the road and in the studio not only helped shape his musical tastes — Elliott says it also informed his own songwriting style.

“I don’t think there’s any way for it not to,” he says. “People ask about influences a lot. It’s a really common question, but I think for some folks, your greatest influences are the people you spend time with, and I think that’s been the case for me. The way I approach songwriting and just everything has changed a ton since I’ve had the opportunity to tour. And then touring led to more studio opportunities, and I’ve been able to be around people who have been doing this at a high level for a long time. And it’s had a huge impact on me in a lot of ways. I don’t think there’s any substitute for it. I’ve always been envious of the cats that grow up in this, you know. It’s a level of understanding of the whole thing that’s innate for them. For the rest of us, we’ve gotta go out there and figure it out.”

One spin of Forever to Fade and you’ll be able to tell he’s already got it figured out. And while the arrangements may be what came to him first (“I’m always thinking about a string line,” he says. “Always.”), the album’s lyrics are equally important to Elliott.

“Get Me Out of Here” tells the story of a love triangle, each of its three verses centered around one of the three characters involved. The title track deals with the feeling of being trapped or stuck in a bad relationship. And while he notes that these situations aren’t necessarily autobiographical, Elliott says much of the record is inspired by unhealthy relationships he’s witnessed.

“A lot of these songs on the record are inspired by dysfunctional relationships or needing to push through to a better place in your life and making hard choices, like whether or not you want to move forward or keep dealing with it,” he explains. “I think the title itself lends itself really well to that because for people who are caught up in those unhealthy relationships, it feels like they’re gonna be there forever and there’s nothing they can do to get out cleanly.”

Ultimately, he hopes that people going through a similar situation in their own lives will be able to hear Forever to Fade and feel understood.

“Recently I did a house concert and I got on this little spiel about how sad songs are better,” he says. “Happy songs are great, but you can’t commiserate with a happy song. There’s just more depth of emotion on the other side of things I think with sad songs, and whenever you find something like that that you can latch onto, it can help you get through what you’re going through a lot better than a happy song could. And so hopefully maybe somebody out there is going through something in their life that this helps them get through.”

He adds, “Dysfunctional relationships can be tough, you know. Letting go of people that you loved, or that it hasn’t been a healthy thing, or standing your ground on things in your life. Coming to terms in those ways can be very difficult, and maybe somebody will be able to find some hope in here. That would be really nice if it helps them get through a hard time.”

Working with Single Lock on the record was always Elliott’s top choice, he says, but he never presumed that a deal with them was a foregone conclusion.

“It was never a given on that level,” he says. “However, I’ve worked with Ben a lot over the past several years as a cellist. I’ve kind of been his go-to guy for the strings, and so when it came time for me to pick someone to record my songs with, he’s always been my favorite engineer and producer to work with, and I feel like he’s one of the best I’ve ever worked with. So that was the obvious choice for me, to ask him if he wanted to help me record my record. Down the line, after we got it kind of going, apparently there was a conversation between a couple of the guys at Single Lock about basically asking Ben what he’s been up to. They had a sit-down listen and they kept coming back to a couple of my songs. That’s when they sat me down and said, ‘Hey, we really like what you’ve been doing. We’d be interested in helping you put this out.’ It was sort of an organic thing.”

Elliott says that connection to his music on that level is his ultimate goal, but for now, he’s focused on getting it out there and in the ears of as many people as possible.

“More than anything my personal goal is to tour my butt off as much as possible,” he says. “I’m hoping this thing gets going. It’d be really cool. I’m a lifer, you know? This is what I do. And I’ve been very fortunate that I play the cello and that’s been able to lead to a lot of sideman work. I’ve played cello and guitar and background harmonies for people, but it’s such a treat to be able to sing my own songs.”


Photo credit: Joshua Black Wilkins

MIXTAPE: Elise Davis’ Songs I Love and Why

Below is a list of songs I think are special and timeless. Some are songs I’ve loved for many years, others are songs I was particularly influenced by during the making of my new album, Cactus. Get ready for a party in your ears. — Elise Davis

Willie Nelson – “Time of the Preacher”

I’ve always loved Willie Nelson but recently had a revival of that love. I decided I wanted to go out to the desert to shoot the album cover so I packed up my car and drove to Terlingua, Texas. I stayed in the middle of Big Bend so there was no cell phone reception, which was appreciated and amazing other than the fact that while driving around in the desert I couldn’t listen to any music other than what CDs were in my car. Turned out I had Willie Nelson’s Red Headed Stranger in my car. I put it in the player and never took it out. The whole week that album was on low in the background and sometimes the foreground and I never wanted to turn it off. The experience led me to dig into older Willie records that I hadn’t heard much, and now I have gone through phases of also obsessively listening to Teatro and Stardust. His voice is one of a kind and he has made so many timeless albums.

Lucinda Williams – “Lonely Girls”/“Ventura”/“Those Three Days”/“Drunken Angel”/“Something About What Happens When We Talk”

This was too tough to name one song. She is my all-time favorite songwriter. I am a huge album person, so I picked songs from my favorite albums but I suggest just listening down to the whole album in its chosen sequence. Like Willie, Lucinda has a one-of-a-kind voice. She always has killer musicians and great production on her albums, which only enhance the songs that strongly stand on their own with just an acoustic guitar and vocal. I am a lifer fan of Lucinda. My favorite albums: Sweet Old World, Essence, Car Wheels on a Gravel Road, and World Without Tears.

Aimee Mann – “Thirty One Today”/“Goose Snow Cone”

I have loved Aimee Mann since I was 16. She has such a cool vibe, intelligent lyrics, awesome melodies – it’s good shit. One of my all-time favorite songs of hers is “Thirty One Today.” I’ve had a plan for a long time to book a show on the day I turn 31 and cover it. “Goose Snow Cone” is a track off her most recent album, Mental Illness. This album completely blew me away. The whole thing is so good!!!

Kathleen Edwards – “House Full of Empty Rooms”

When I first heard this song I cried. I was blown away by its beauty. The lyrics are so simply put yet so impactful and heartbreaking. Her voice is soothing. I have listened to her album Voyager hundreds of times over the years and I feel Kathleen is a hidden gem.

Bahamas – “Like a Wind”

This is a current band I really dig. I haven’t caught a show yet but am going to as soon as I can. The songs are catchy, the harmonies throughout are amazing, it’s upbeat and feel-good but has depth and character. My favorite albums: Bahamas Is Afie and 2018’s Earthtones.

Sharon Van Etten – “Tarifa”/“I Wish I Knew”/”Every Time the Sun Comes Up”

Her voice is so unique and beautifully melancholy. I am the kind of person that likes to listen to depressing music when I feel depressed and Sharon’s albums have been a go to for me on the darker days. “Tarifa” and “Every Time the Sun Comes Up” are off her 2014 album, Are We There. That record as a whole is pretty intense and sad, but one of my all-time favorite albums.

Loretta Lynn – “When the Tingle Becomes a Chill”

I am a huge Loretta Lynn fan. She is a pioneer for women in country music and cut so many songs that were edgy, even controversial, lyrically at the time. And I love that. This was hard to pick one, but I chose “When the Tingle Becomes a Chill.” She is singing about when a husband comes home at night and gets in bed, what used to be a tingle of sexual desire is now replaced with a chill. It’s real, and raw, and that’s what I’m all about.

Harry Nilsson – “Everybody’s Talkin”

To me this is one of the most beautiful songs ever recorded. I have spun this hundreds of times. His music was authentic and he was a true artist.

Tom Petty – “Time to Move On”

As with most of the artists I am naming here, one song is really hard to pin down as a favorite. I chose this song because during the time of recording my new album, Cactus, I was obsessively listening to Tom’s album, Wildflowers. It is one of those records you can just let roll through the whole thing over and over. I love the freeing mood of “Time to Move On.” It makes you want to go on a drive, roll the windows down, and let go of all the bullshit you’ve been carrying around.

Wilco – “Jesus, Etc.”

I had to include a Wilco song because I have loved this band for a long time. They have their own sound, clever lyrics, and just an overall great band. This was one of the first songs that got me into them so I chose this one. Others I really love “How to Fight Loneliness,” “Please Be Patient with Me,” and “Hate It Here.” My favorite albums: Yankee Hotel Foxtrot, Summer Teeth, and Sky Blue Sky.

Sheryl Crow – “Maybe Angels”

This song is off of Sheryl’s massively famous self-titled album, which includes mega hits such as “If It Makes You Happy,” “Every Day Is a Winding Road” and “A Change Would Do You Good.” But to me every song on that record is fuckin’ timeless. I have said this many times over the years and still wholeheartedly stand behind it: I think if this record came out today it would have the same amount of success. It’s just that good. She was a big influence to me as a 12-year-old learning to play guitar and beginning to write songs, and still as an adult this album is a classic and one of my all-time favorite albums.


Photo credit: Alysse Gafkjen

MIXTAPE: Ruen Brothers’ Music & Film

We decided to choose the theme of music and film because, for us, it’s two art forms that go so perfectly hand in hand. Film has always helped inspire our writing and the mood of our songs. A lot of nights have been spent playing our demos alongside our favorite movie trailers. Quentin Tarantino, David Lynch, the Coen brothers, Wim Wenders, and Martin Scorsese have all been big influences on us, so we thought it fitting to create a playlist of music and film. If you dig the music and haven’t yet seen the films, you won’t be disappointed with any of the below. – Ruen Brothers

Chuck Berry – “You Never Can Tell”

Growing up, Chuck Berry was a big inspiration to us. He was one of the first musicians we were introduced to by our father. We performed many of Chuck’s hits at the working men’s clubs and pubs week in, week out. We still play a Berry number or two at some of our shows. We are huge Quentin Tarantino fans – the Mia Wallace and Vincent Vega dance to “You Never Can Tell” is really cool.

Nick Cave and the Bad Seeds – “Red Right Hand”

In our opinion, a haunting Western masterpiece. The song is used ironically as Jim Carrey’s character, Lloyd (from Dumb and Dumber), wanders the streets, sporting a ten-gallon hat and buying junk items, gets robbed by ‘a sweet old lady on a motorized cart…’.

The Statler Brothers – “Flowers on the Wall”

Another brilliant song from Tarantino’s Pulp Fiction. Bruce and Marcellus W coming to a head at the traffic lights. The song offsets the tension between the two characters–it’s comedic and cool. There’s juxtaposition there. It’s a great song and one that we play on all of our American tour journeys.

Walter Egan – “Magnet & Steel”

From Egan’s second album, produced by Fleetwood Mac’s Lindsey Buckingham and Stevie Nicks, and featured in the Paul Thomas Anderson movie Boogie Nights. A very smooth song, fitting of young Mark Wahlberg’s character Dirk Diggler and his quest to bring a more artistic side to the world of porn.

Al Green – “Tired of Being Alone”

One of Henry’s all-time favorite songs. Powerful music when paired with the death of Chris Tucker’s character Skip from the Hughes brothers’ Dead Presidents. SPOILER ALERT — Skip is found dead, syringe in arm, “Tired of Being Alone” playing out live on the TV in front of him. It’s haunting and tragic, much like the situation the characters find themselves in towards the end of the movie.

Talking Heads – “This Must Be the Place”

Brilliantly crafted, timeless and classic. It helps portray Bud Fox’s love for material possessions as he buys his first home in Oliver Stone’s movie, Wall Street. This Talking Heads song introduced us to the band; a great rhythm and fantastic lyrics.

Danny Elfman – “Storytime”

As beautiful and enchanting as the picture and story of Edward Scissorhands itself. A piece of music to get lost in while crammed in a subway car in the tunnels of NYC.

Harry Nilsson – “Without You”

As Lester and Ginger plot their escape in Scorsese’s Casino, the crescendoing vocals of Nilsson’s “Without You” hearken as the situation becomes manic and crazed. For us, this is one of Nilsson’s best works and one of the most powerful love songs ever written.

The Delfonics – “Didn’t I (Blow Your Mind This Time)”

The song behind Tarantino’s classic Jackie Brown – the perfect portrayal of Max’s love for Jackie. From the French horn opening and twinkling glockenspiel to the soaring strings, beautiful melody line and smooth harmonies, The Delfonics deliver a beautiful, timeless love song.

Ry Cooder – “Paris, Texas”

Ry Cooder’s Western-drenched instrumental soundtrack to Wim Wenders’ classic film Paris, Texas – probably one of our favorite films of all time. We play many demos alongside the muted trailer of this movie to see if we are hitting the pocket with the mood and tone. The title track is haunting, lonesome and longing, going hand in hand with Travis’ journey throughout the film. Another great one for a late night road trip through Texas.

Roy Orbison – “There Won’t Be Many Coming Home”

Seeing Tarantino’s The Hateful Eight in 70mm while living in London was brilliant. This Roy Orbison song played as the credits rolled. A lesser known song of his, previously heard in The Fastest Guitar Alive. Love it.


Photo credit: Jacob Blickenstaff

3×3: Brother Roy on Nicknames, Nilsson, and Nice Shoes

Artist: Brother Roy
Hometown: New York City, NY
Latest Album: Last Man Standing
Personal Nicknames: Brother Roy

And I hauled this damn piano across the country for the gig. #piano

A post shared by Roy Williams (@brother_roy__) on

What’s the best concert you’ve ever attended?

Paul McCartney

How many unread emails or texts currently fill your inbox?

10,850

How many pillows do you sleep with?

2

How many pairs of shoes do you own?

2 … one shitty, one nice

If you were going to buy a famous musician’s pair of dirty socks off of eBay, whose would you buy?

Harry Nilsson

What’s your favorite vegetable?

Carrots

Pet Sounds at Rico Ranch, Big Sur fiddle camp. Magic Place

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Fate or free will?

Fate

Sweet or sour?

Sweet

Sunrise or sunset?

Sunset

‘Imaginary Man’

This year has brought us some intriguing records that fuse the worlds of pop and Americana. Created largely by women — Hannah Miller, Jesse Baylin, and Kasey Chambers, to name three — their soldering of styles both modernist and traditional have had a thought-provoking effect our ears and redefined what we mean when we discuss “American music.”

The first boy to be welcomed to the club, Rayland Baxter disrupts the chromosome balance of the equation with his new collection of tunes that integrate smartly consistent lyrics with self-effacing melodies and subtly simple arrangements. The opening cut, “Mr. Rodriquez,” is a treat — a beautiful narrative of those who live like kings in their minds (and under the freeways in their lives). Baxter blends a deceptively simple pop structure (complete with lyrical “la-di-das”) with an aching story of childhood on “Mother Mother.”

Baxter’s music feels a bit more folkie on the easy ballad “Yellow Eyes” and the acoustic showpiece “Rugged Lovers,” the former sounding a bit like Harry Nilsson and the latter more in the vein of Leonard Cohen. Elsewhere, the screaming electronics that open “Freakin Me Out” pave the way for a fervent ballad that would make John Lennon proud, while the gentle piano and pedal steel of “Your Love” make for a truly amazing listen.

Seldom does the term “Beatlesque” come into play here at the BGS, but the pure pop essence of the Fab Four’s shimmering orchestrations and melodic genius shows its face here, beautifully wrapped in the spirit of Bradley’s Barn and generously imbued with the simple heart of a country boy. A spectacular listen.

MIXTAPE: The Coal Men’s Cover Songs

Through the years, the Coal Men have traveled a lot of miles in mini-vans and rentals. We always like to catch up on tour drives and listen to music that's catching our ears. In my younger, long-hair, Fentress County, Tennessee, days, I had my silver-face SONY dual tape deck. I even DJ'd a few dances with it. Mostly, I loved making mixtapes of older songs and doodling on the Maxwell tape box blank cards. Here are some of my favorite cuts that have found their way from those old tapes into the long shows we do when we step outside of our own song catalog. — Dave Coleman

"Long Black Veil" — (Danny Dill/Marijohn Wilkin)
Johnny Cash's version was the one I heard the most growing up, but the Band's version blows me away these days. Lefty Frizzell had the first first hit with it back in 1959. It's a heartbreaking tune written from the vantage point of a corpse.

"Rain" — (John Lennon/Paul McCartney)
The Beatles' version is a masterpiece, but I learned the song from Singing Sergeant Washington, a local Tennessee band that I loved. I desperately wanted to be in that band as a 17-year-old. I finally got the chance to play guitar with them on my first gig in Nashville (at Obie's Pizza). The band, sadly, broke up. Heartbroken, I forged on and started my own group. I like to throw my best Hendrix-inspired psychedelic roots rock on the song these days. Fuzz and Sun.

"Are You Experienced?" — (Jimi Hendrix)
My favorite mixtape I had was titled FOUR: it started with that many Jimi Hendrix instrumental songs I tracked down. It was stuff where he used extreme amounts of surf-sounding wah-wah pedal (i.e. "Hornet's Nest"). I later buzzed some of my other favorite songs onto it. The backwards guitar and drums in the song — along with the pounding quarter-note piano — are monumental. We now do a fun stripped-down roots rock version.

*Here are the Coal Men (with Pete Finney on pedal steel) from a few years ago down in Florida. Note the number four on my guitar — it came from the FOUR mixtape.

"Rock N Roll Girl" — (Paul Collins)
The Beat, a short-lived L.A. band, recorded this simple-but-perfect taste of power-pop delight. We do it fast, loud, and always for a gem of a bartender named George. The Paul Collins Beat did a record a few years ago that blew me away called Ribbon of Gold.

"Six Days on the Road" — (Dave Dudley)
It's been covered by tons of folks. What's the reason why? It might be the best truck-driving song ever. We just played a show with Mathew Ryan and I had to dedicate this one to him because he'd just "pulled out of Pittsburgh" to come down to Nashville to record his next record.

"Guitars, Cadillacs" – (Dwight Yoakam)
My life changed when I heard Dwight's original guitar player/producer Pete Anderson. Duane Jarvis told me a story about playing guitar with Dwight Yoakam on a Canadian tour. (Pete was producing the Meat Puppets at the time.) He went for the solo, and people were going crazy, and he thought he was on fire with the guitar. He turned around as Dwight was doing one of his killer dance moves. Sometimes it's not the notes you play, but how you shake them that counts, I guess. Jokes aside, this is a sad song about a land of "lost and wasted dreams" with a shuffle that won't stop.

"Everybody's Talkin'" — (Fred Neil)
I love Western movies and, when I was a kid, I rented Midnight Cowboy from Jamestown Video for a dollar. It is not, in fact, a Western. I still loved it, though. The version recorded by Harry Nilsson haunts the movie throughout in joyful, saddening beauty.

"Silver Wings" — (Merle Haggard)
In my opinion, this is the definition of a perfect song. One chorus and one verse. I cried when Merle died. We love to play this song for the travelers and the lonely ones they leave behind.

"Drive Back to You" — (Duane Jarvis)
I met Duane shortly after I moved to Nashville. He was my rock 'n' roll professor. He had this gritty and tasteful guitar playing with Brit-rock influenced songs. I toured a lot with him and we wrote dozens of songs together. This one was about his wife Denise. Duane passed away in 2009, but his music is still with me and lifts me up. I love to sing this song with the joy he brought to it.

"Jesus on the Mainline" — (Traditional arranged by Ry Cooder)
This song explains that beautiful relationship a Protestant has with the maker. You can talk to that friend any time you want — no busy signal, no answering machine. I'm a fan of traditional songs with a simple form. It allows the players to open up with confidence of the rock solid foundation underneath. That's something we could all use in our everyday lives. Ry Cooder's version has all of this hypnotic melodic playing that is as transcendental as it gets.

MIXTAPE: Esmé Patterson’s Summer Songs

Summer jams! What is better than driving across America listening to great tunes in the Summer time? Nothing, y'all. Here are a collection of my favorite songs right now — songs that seem to be on repeat in my tour van. A few songs by friends, a few by people I wish were my friends, and some wild cards to keep it interesting. Hope you dig!

Kevin Morby — "Singing Saw" 
A record that I loved the second I first heard it, driving solo up the West Coast from L.A. to Portland. The guitar solo in this song is so rad!

Nice as Fuck — "Guns"
From a record that we've been digging a lot in the van. It's so refreshing to hear brave, well-written political music from smart, empowered women.

Thao & the Get Down Stay Down — "Millionaire"
This song is such a brave tune. It is so personal and raw. It reminded me that real strength comes from vulnerability. And a fun fact: The bass player in this band, Adam Thompson, produced and played all the bass on my new album.

Mothers — "Too Small For Eyes"
My favorite new band and label-mates on Grand Jury Music. This song is another example of a woman telling it like it is for her, having the courage to expose her beauty and flaws to the world. Man, I love this band so much.

Twin Peaks — "Making Breakfast"
Another super-great band on Grand Jury Music with me. This is such a fun live band, and I am really digging their new album — perfect Summer rock 'n' roll jams.

Minden — "Artist Statement"
Off their album about to be released on August 5. This is a really awesome band here in Portland, Oregon — gets me dancing every time, and the musicianship — as well as the quality of the songs and recordings — is pretty mind-blowing. Really groovy Summer vibes. Stay tuned for this album release.

Broncho — "What"
I just discovered this band and their fun, catchy, sing-along, rocking pop tunes. Great Summer driving music.

Beyoncé — "Drunk in Love"
I am currently drunk in love, too. Feeling this. Surfboard!

Awful Truth — "Cold Grey Sky"
I'm so excited to have Awful Truth opening for me in the Midwest for my album release tour. Brent is a force to be reckoned with — his compositions are so dreamy and captivating.

Harry Nilsson — "Coconut"
Because we were listening to the radio while driving into L.A. to play a show recently, and the DJ was playing his favorite Summer songs, and I had to include this perfect Summer song on my list, too.


Photo credit: Daniel Topete