WATCH: Arny Margret, “waiting”

Artist: Arny Margret
Hometown: Ísafjörður, Iceland
Song: “waiting”
Album: dinner alone EP
Release Date: September 22, 2023 (EP)
Label: One Little Independent Records

In Their Words: “Sometimes you feel like you’re waiting for someone, or for a moment to say something, but the person doesn’t really see or give you the time. This song is about a lot of things: feeling left out and alone, feeling unheard and unwanted. It’s a song that was scary for me to write. Like most of my newer songs, I feel like I’m starting to write in a bit of a different way, a more honest way. This song is all the things I would never say out loud to anyone, I’m not using any metaphors or trying to mask anything here. That’s a pretty scary thing to do to, at least for me.” – Arny Margret


Photo Credit: Keiko Ichihara

BGS 5+5: Coco Reilly

Artist: Coco Reilly
Hometown: Buffalo, New York
Latest Album: Coco Reilly
Personal nicknames: Coco

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

Oh, literature definitely. I buy books way faster than I can read them. I rotate books during the week depending on my mood. I’m usually working my way through 3-5 books at any time and they’re usually a mix of psychology and science with an occasional biography sprinkled in. I know it’s not very cool to say that science informs most of my songwriting, but it does trigger a lot of the introspection and curiosity about how things work and why we do what we do. Aside from that, comedy is my go-to in second place for most inspiring. It helps balance out the heavier parts of my brain and there’s also nothing better than making fun of yourself, which, as a musician, is really easy to do. It’s healthy for the ego.

What rituals do you have, either in the studio or before a show?

I usually do some quick stream of conscious writing in the morning to clear my head. I do that every morning, but it’s extra important on show days, because I get pretty anxious about performing and have to work really hard to keep my inner critic at bay. Any other middle-aged activity such as drinking tea, exercise, or a nice walk also helps. If I’m feeling really locked in I’ll meditate and try to set an intention, remind myself to relax and enjoy the moment.

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

If a song isn’t working I usually just let it go. I don’t fight too hard for them because it takes the fun out of it. Sometimes ideas just need more time to grow so I come back and check on them later without rushing them. That being said, arranging the songs in the recording process can be really tough for me, because I like to hear a lot of options before I settle on the thing that feels best. I struggled to arrange “Oh Oh My My” and “Mirror” the most. It was hard to find the balance of organic sounds and the bigger, more cinematic parts without tipping the scale too far in one direction. I think we recorded “Mirror” four or five times with different tempos and the band almost died from boredom. It’s a very long song. They have the patience of saints.

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

Well, the last song on the record, “Be True,” was really written as my personal mission statement. Be true, no matter who surrounds you. Regardless of what I choose to do in my life I just want to do it authentically, and try to leave the world better than I found it.

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

Water and fire. I light a candle at my desk every morning and I am lucky enough to have a view of the sea for the first time in my life from my apartment in Reykjavik. I think fire helps soothe and keep me focused. It adds a nice warmth to the work space. Water helps me think. I could sit by water for hours and never get bored. There’s always so much going on beneath the surface, especially in the ocean. I do my best thinking near water and always leave it with inspiration and new perspectives.


Photo credit: Juliette Rowland

Joan Shelley’s Love of Kentucky, Captured in Iceland

Singer/songwriter Joan Shelley’s voice has a warmth and purity that can still the choppiest minds. Her fifth album, Like the River Loves the Sea, is a calm offering in noisy times. She says she didn’t set out to make an album with any kind of theme or message, but she found herself writing songs that often reflected her love of her native Kentucky.

For many years, Shelley chased the idea of leaving Kentucky, maybe relocating to someplace in Europe or a big city on one of the coasts. She grew up on a small farm outside of Louisville, a swarm of animals, siblings, and step-siblings to play with, a creek and woods to play in.

On her song, “The Fading,” Shelley borrows a phrase often attributed to Mark Twain about Kentucky’s sluggish pace of life: “And, oh, Kentucky stays on my mind/ It’s sweet to be five years behind/ That’s where I’ll be when the seas rise/ Holding my dear friends and drinking wine.” And yet when the time came to record this album, Shelley travelled far from Kentucky to Iceland, with frequent collaborators, guitarist, Nathan Salsburg, and producer and guitarist, Jim Elkington.

BGS: How did you end up in Iceland?

Shelley: I have a friend who’s a complete fan of Iceland. It just started to simmer in my imagination. This could be poetically in between Europe and the U.S., this ancient musical tie on the newest earth that’s in the ocean. I was, like, I want to go essentially to a different planet and make a record and see how that air feels and how that environment works.

When you go someplace like that to record, are you bringing all your instruments with you? Or are you letting the place influence the music?

We each brought a guitar. I was like: I’ll use their banjo; I’ll use their drums; we’ll use their tambourines, everything. In Iceland, there was no banjo. We couldn’t find a banjo. So someone had a resonator guitar and I had to retune that to a banjo tuning that I was using for the song, “Coming Down for You.” You know, funny limits that you encounter like that, even though it’s frustrating at the time and you’re kind of panicked, then you feel for the next step. I love that.

So were you running around Iceland looking for a banjo?

We asked musicians who had been there and musicians know musicians. It’s a pretty creative community. There are a lot of artists and songwriters. And a lot of synthesizers and not a lot of banjos. When you talk about a Kentucky-to-Iceland record, like, you’re in this black hole where you cannot find a banjo.

You became interested in music later in your childhood, but you’ve always had a strong connection to the outdoors that’s apparent in a lot of your songs.

Music came later but when I think about my time in nature as a kid, I would always wander off on my own. I remember distinctly sitting under trees and singing to the day, kind of being a little kid and making up melodies.

Were you singing with an instrument?

No, just singing. Like, bird education. Melodies only. No one had instruments. My mom used to and that’s how I found the guitar. It was in the attic.

Tell me about that.

I was a freshman in high school and I wandered up to the attic which had all the good stuff in it and I kind of dusted off my mom’s guitar that she had up there. And there was a chord chart up on the wall too. She was one of those people who would say, “I just want to get better at this someday.” But it was always someday. So I taught myself from the chord chart on the wall.

Do you have a certain go-to guitar when you’re in the process of writing songs? 

I have a Collings guitar which is a pretty fancy bluegrass guitar. It’s good for fingerpicking. I got it from my cousin who passed away. She died really young of cancer. At first I wasn’t taking it anywhere because I didn’t want it to break but then it hit me — no, she’d want to go everywhere! It’s good to be reminded of how lucky I am to have gotten this far and seen what I’ve seen. It’s amazing.

Do you remember when you first heard mountain music or when you first felt like it spoke to you? 

I would say the first song that ripped my stomach out and onto the ground below me was a Dillard Chandler song, a ballad. All his unaccompanied ballads on that Dark Holler record are just gorgeous.

Nathan Salsburg, your collaborator, is also curator of the Alan Lomax archives. Did he help lead you down that well of old-time music?

He exposed me to Dillard Chandler. I wanted to hear the female singers. I was hungry because I know they just don’t get represented in the recordings of the great musicians. When you look at old-time music, and bluegrass too, it’s male-dominated. So I was like, give me everything you got. And he collected some for me to listen to, like Aunt Molly Jackson, Little Jean Ritchie.

What do you hope people take away from this record?

Once I was done editing the songs that would go on the record, I almost called it Haven, because it’s the first song on the record. We need that calm, that haven, whether it’s in terms of relationships or the environment or political noise. I have to remember how to be quiet and lead my thoughts back to being quiet.

Even when I’m talking about love in the songs, there’s a deeper level we can agree on. Let’s get back to the deeper level. At this point in my life, and at this point in our country, this was the record that I was like: I’m going to stop telling myself I’m going to move somewhere. I’m going to be here. I’m making that choice to bring what I love about the rest of the world to Kentucky.


Photo credit: Amber Estes Thieneman

A Place in the Chain of Stories: A Conversation with My Bubba

Named for its two members — My Larsdotter, pronounced “me,” from Sweden and Guðbjörg Tómasdóttir, nicknamed “Bubba,” from Iceland — My Bubba's harmony-centric vocals and minimal instrumentation lend the duo a mesmerizing and timeless quality, one that’s as captivating on a stage as it is a street corner. Their latest record, Big Bad Good, capitalizes on their improvisational capabilities with many numbers that were recorded as they were being written, a process that took place in the studio of producer Shahzad Ismaily and expanded into an 11-song gem released last month on the duo’s label, Cash Only. Turns out, My Bubba is informed by — and even distantly connected to — some of folk’s greats.

When did you first realize that making music together was something that was good and that you wanted to pursue?

My: So that happened pretty much the first day we spent together, which was when Bubba moved into my apartment. I had a room to rent in Copenhagen in Denmark about eight years ago. Bubba was unpacking boxes, and I was doing dishes in the kitchen and I was singing to myself at the same time, and she came up and sort of asked me to sing on the song she was writing — to do a harmony or something. I agreed to do that, but I had never really sung with anyone before, never thought about being in a band even, but I [said], "I think I can do that. I’ll try." So we did, and we immediately had such a good time together. We kept doing that basically every time we were home together and had time to spare. We’d sit down on my couch and Bubba would play guitar and we would just harmonize. Most of the time we’d be humming at the beginning, and then we started writing songs together. It was very immediate, and was pretty much our first interaction.

Bubba: I think My covered the grounds. It was immediate and effortless. Even though we were not trained musicians or anything like that, we both had a very strong relationship with music in our own way. When we met, we liked that we could share that very naturally and create our own music. Of course, a lot has happened since then — this was eight years ago. We say that music came and chose us. Opportunities kept coming at us and we would always say yes to them. It took us on a lot of adventures.

I’ve heard a lot about how quickly you recorded these songs after they were written. Did you approach Big, Bad, Good differently during the recording process than any of your previous work?

Bubba: The first few times that you sing a song, ever, when it’s being born, the song always has a very special feel to it … before you’ve rehearsed it, before you find the exact form of a song. We were very intrigued by exploring, let’s say, if we could capture on the record the songs the first few times that they’d become songs. We went into the studio without even having … I mean we had some ideas, some sketches, in our heads, but no finished songs, and we wrote all of the materials as we were recording.

My: So Goes Abroader, the second record — the one before this — we had a very clear idea of what we wanted to sound like as we were writing it and planning the recording sessions. We ended up very close to that, which we were very happy with, of course. With this one, we wanted to challenge ourselves in the writing process by doing it in the studio and we also wanted to, like Bubba was saying, explore that freshness of a song as it’s being written.

It was all kind of because we had met Shahzad [Ismaily], who produced the record. The first time we met him, we had a jam session during a home night in Iceland with some other musicians — Damien Rice and Sam Amidon and [others]. It was a very fun, creative night and we had a connection with [Ismaily] right away. The next time we met him, he told us about his studio that he had just finished and invited us to come make a record with him, and we said we’d love to, but we didn’t have any new material at the time, so maybe later. He said, "No — you don’t have to have songs. Just come over and we’ll see what happens."

We got used to that idea very quickly and decided it was exactly what we wanted to do that that time. It seemed like the perfect challenge, and especially having had that experience with him collaborating creatively in that way, it seemed like the right thing for us to do at the time. It was great, and we’re very happy with the result.

Bubba: Going into the studio, we had no idea what was going to come out. No expectations. We didn’t even know if we were going to come home with a record.

My: All we came with was some kind of confidence, that working with Shahzad was going to lead to something nice.

I loved something you said about your recent video for album track “Charm.” You called it the CliffNotes to your “unauthorized biography,” and I thought that was an interesting way to describe something you wrote. What made you describe it that way?

My: Well, when they asked me to say something about the song and the video and I thought about the lyrics, most of it was a poem that I wrote several years ago that I’d just wanted to be used in a song. That text, I feel, is a condensed version of my experience of being me. At the same time, it’s not written deliberately to be that. I guess that’s the unauthorized part — it’s kind of semi-subconscious poetry.

You could argue that the title track has a biographical element, too. The lyrics about relatives and ancestry lend a lot to the song. Are you inspired by history, family?

Bubba: I have always been really interested in history and my own history and I think, especially at this age, when you’re finally becoming an adult, I feel that I think a lot about where I come from and where my parents come from and try to learn from their journeys. I was inspired by those kinds of feelings, writing that song, in particular … looking back and finding your own place in that chain of stories and deciding how you want to keep building from there, feeling some kind of responsibility and wanting to make something positive and great with your own life.

Another great part of the song is the way it loops and multiplies the harmonies. What inspired that? To me, there are elements there that recall old, old folk songs, gospel songs, hymns — as well as more modern remixes and electronic music. Did that come from any particular place of inspiration?

My: It happened on the spot. We had the chords, the "big, bad, good" part. That was something I had come up with some months earlier, so that’s the part we had. The lyrics we were writing that day, and Shahzad was working out that beat. Once the beat was there, we decided to go in and start singing what came to us. We did that in layer after layer after layer and it became what it is, pretty much, with some editing and adding some things after. But that’s very much how it happened — it’s what came to us instinctively.

I noticed also that you reference other artists in your songs. What made you decide to do that in such an overt way? It feels cliché to ask a musician in an interview, "Tell me about your influences," but you seem to invite a certain amount of comparison with those kinds of lyrics.

My: In "Big Bad Good," we talk about Paul Simon, and that is probably, mostly … I mean, I couldn’t say for sure … I’m interpreting my own lyrics here, but my dad used to sing to me a lot when I grew up. He has a very Simon and Garfunkel-y voice, so it’s really kind of talking about him. Also, we are compared to Simon and Garfunkel, our sound.

Also, Bob Dylan is sort of a relative of mine. [Laughs] Well, we joke about it often when we play live because one of the first songs we played together was Bob Dylan, “You’re Gonna Make Me Lonesome When You Go.” And we keep playing it, eight, nine years later. So before we play it, I usually say, "Now we’re gonna play a song that was written by my father’s wife’s ex-husband’s mother’s previous lover." [Laughs] And, that is how I’m related to Bob Dylan.

Bubba: We call him Uncle Bob.

My: Yes. We never met him. We’d love to just have him hear our version of the song. I feel like it’s gonna happen someday.

The BGS Life Weekly Roundup: Thanksgiving Feasts, Custom Holiday Gifts, Icelandic Rescuers and More

We're not just into music here at the BGS. We want to paint an entire picture for you, knitting together the lifestyles, talents, and culture of this Americana quilt we love so dearly. That's why we've taken the time to scour the web and collect the best food, style, travel, and lifestyle pieces that are affecting hearts and minds in a positive way. Here are some of our favorite stories of the week below. Do you have any recommendations? Let us know in the comments!

Culture

Photo c/o New Yorker

• Spend some time with ICE-SAR, search and rescue workers in Iceland

Food

Photo c/o Saveur

• Thanksgiving is around the corner. Get the complete guide to Thanksgiving food at Saveur

• One of the world's most important collections of shoes is in an unlikely place

Style

Photo c/o Cool Hunting

Cool Hunting has your 2015 guide for custom holiday gifts. 

Nature

Photo c/o National Geographic

10 great pleasure hikes in the good ole U.S. of A. 

• How one writer learned to yield to Mother Nature

WATCH: David Ramirez, ‘Harder to Lie’

Even taking all 260,000 of the miles tracked and traveled by David Ramirez's 2006 Kia Rio, there were still some journeys left unaccounted for — the inner explorations he undertook while driving all that way … alone. What he realized, at the end of the road, was that he needed to do some things differently.

Three years and one writer's block later, Ramirez has emerged with Fables. Produced by Seattle singer/songwriter Noah Gundersen, it's a tale of the reckoning Ramirez went through with himself and with his girlfriend. The open-aired and open-armed production gives Ramirez's baritone voice room to roam through the songs.

The title of the set comes from “Harder to Lie.” While on vacation in Iceland, Ramirez and company were on the look out for the just-right visual setting to capture the song. They found it in Skaftafell, a preservation area in southeast Iceland.

"When my lady, our friend Clayton, and I began talking about a potential Iceland vacation, one of the first things we discussed was filming a song,” Ramirez says. “From the minute we left Reykjavik, our eyes were peeled for the perfect location. Funny thing about Iceland: Every location is perfect. One evening we crossed a long bridge that hung over a moon-like terrain. In the background were two giant, green mountains and sandwiched between them was a glacier. We pulled over at the next exit, set up camp for the night, and filmed 'Harder to Lie' the next morning. It's a one-shot, one-take video, and it took us three takes to get it just right. Hats off to Clayton Stringer for filming barefoot on black stones in 10 degrees celsius to keep the sound pure. He's a champ."

Fables drop on August 28 via Thirty Tigers.