Tag: i’m with her

Explore the Essential Songs of Sarah Jarosz’s Discography

Posted on by Justin Hiltner

Stripping away convention, honing in on narrative, and keeping complex melodies afloat with her ethereal vocals, Sarah Jarosz is a superlative presence in the roots music landscape. The daughter of two schoolteachers hailing from Wimberley, Texas, she began learning to play the mandolin at age 9. By the time she turned 12, Sarah was already gracing stages alongside the likes of musical giants David Grisman and Ricky Skaggs.

Her multi-instrumentalist capabilities and songwriting proficiency only grew from there; at the age of 16, Jarosz signed a deal with Sugar Hill Records and released her first album, Song Up in Her Head, in 2009. This critically acclaimed record would be the first of what now surmounts to seven full-length, tremendously lauded projects. Polaroid Lovers, Jarosz’s latest and the muse of her current tour, is set to be released on January 26, 2024.

Over the span of nearly two decades spent recording and touring, Sarah Jarosz has established herself as a foundational thread in the tapestry of modern roots music. From impeccable collaborations (with Punch Brothers, David Grisman, Sierra Ferrell), to forming a supergroup alongside Aoife O’Donovan and Sarah Watkins (I’m With Her), to a whopping 5 hours and 45 minutes of music published under her name, Jarosz stands firmly in her power. As she forges ahead, she only continues to outdo herself.

While her entire catalog is sure to edify any listener, this compilation showcases some of Jarosz’s most essential tracks. Tracing the arc of her musicianship from adolescence to adulthood, the following 17 songs demonstrate the particular sonic maturity, lyrical astuteness, and emotional evocation that span all she creates.

“Mansinneedof”

From Jarosz’s first album, Song Up in Her Head, this indelible instrumental boldly answers the question, “Can a mandolin be a lead instrument?” with a resounding, “Of course!” The first of many Grammy nominations acquired throughout her career, this tune was considered for Best Country Instrumental in 2009. Impossibly advanced beyond her years, Jarosz’s nimble and articulate melody is akin to a sonic coast through star-studded galaxies.

“Come On Up To The House”

In a clear demonstration of the range of her musical influences, the most-streamed song from Sarah’s inaugural album is a cover of Tom Waits’s “Come On Up To The House.” Her cool, slippery voice lends a new angle to the iconic tune. Paired with astute backing vocals from Tim O’Brien and a slick fiddle solo by Alex Hargreaves, this song grooves right along – an ingenious, albeit unlikely, bluegrass cover.

“Annabelle Lee”

Jarosz’s sophomore album, Follow Me Down, is latent with a mystical quality that reaches towards the ethers, shepherded into expansiveness by a creative spectrum of influences. The third track, “Annabelle Lee,” features lyrics adapted from the illustrious Edgar Allen Poe poem of the same name. Jarosz sets the eerie tale against a conglomerate of haunting textures – the heightened pace and drums evoke a sense of urgency while Jerry Douglas makes his lap steel wail, a somber cello moans, and Dan Tyminski’s backing vocals lend fullness to the ravenous depths of this dark tune. It is also worth noting that Jarosz performed and recorded this tune, very fittingly filmed in an old hunting lodge in the Scottish Highlands, for the Transatlantic Sessions in 2011. (Watch above.)

“The Tourist”

Sarah sure knows how to pick a cover. From Prince to the Decemberists to Joanna Newsom, she can masterfully braid her grace and artistry into anything. “The Tourist” offers Jarosz’s take on Radiohead, an influence cited among many of Jarosz’s contemporaries, including Madison Cunningham and Chris Thile. In fact, Punch Brothers provide the musical backdrop on this track, their syncopated rhythms and blustery fills meeting Jarosz and Thile’s airtight harmonies to create a sense of whirling, palpable, delicate angst.

“Build Me Up From Bones”

Off of her Grammy-nominated third album, this titular track received an additional nom for Best American Roots Song of 2014. This song is SJ’s most popular of all time, having racked up a total of 70.7M streams on Spotify. Here, Jarosz’s songwriting forges into new territory; her lyrics are both poetic and measured, imbued with textures of velvety longing. The form matches the content, from Aoife O’Donovan’s dewy harmonies to the pizzicato string section to the gorgeous cello solo. Effectively, listeners are bathed in a most intimate listening experience that beckons infinite re-listens.

“1,000 Things”

In another track off of Build Me Up From Bones, here SJ shares songwriting credits with the legendary Darrell Scott. The result? Pure synastry. Underscored by pulsating Celtic rhythms, this uptempo earworm says 1,000 things despite its brevity.

“House of Mercy”

This tune, along with the album carrying it – Undercurrent – won Sarah her first two Grammys in one night. “House of Mercy” was crowned Best American Roots Performance of 2017, and it was indubitably worthy. Jarosz shares songwriting credits with Australian singer-songwriter Jedd Hughes, and together they achieve a dark story arc as the encumbered narrator addresses an unwanted visitor. Jarosz opens up her sound into cutting, fierce Americana twang – effectively offering audiences a new layer to her multitudes of sound.

“Jacqueline”

The closing track of Undercurrent is stark, honest, and bewildering. The song is named after the Jacqueline Kennedy Onassis Reservoir in New York City where Jarosz, who once lived nearby, would often do her pondering. Accompanied solely by an electric guitar, Jarosz’s voice is agile and glimmering as liquid silver. She muses over the reflective surface and projected companion while disclosing her own state of unease, immersing listeners in an intimate, unyielding pensiveness.

“Your Water” (with Parker Millsap)

The first of a two-single release titled the Luck Mansion Sessions (2017), SJ here collaborates with fellow singer-songwriter and multi-instrumentalist Parker Millsap. The track, written and originally released by Millsap, is delivered as a duet. The groove opens up into a soul-type feel, allowing for Sarah to showcase a more raw, bluesy, unmeasured latitude of her voice.

“See You Around”

“See You Around” is the title track off of supergroup I’m With Her’s first and – to every listener’s chagrin – only full-length album. In 2018, Jarosz linked up with two of the most astounding women in roots music, Aoife O’Donovan and Sara Watkins, to form a trio of unadulterated excellence (it should be noted that that group won Americana Music Association’s Music Duo/Group of the Year). The album waffles between the three songwriters’ contributions, with each vocalist singing lead on an approximately even number of tracks. “See You Around” is driven by Jarosz’s signature poetic lyrics and fluttery melody, elevated to new horizons by the pristine, angelic blend of harmonies from Watkins and O’Donovan. The musical chemistry these women share evokes the divine; every single song on this album delivers listeners into the sublime.

“Johnny”

For her also Grammy-winning fifth studio album, World on the Ground (2020), Sarah Jarosz invites listeners to experience an array of vignettes; her songs on this album, more than ever, become vehicles for potent storytelling.“Johnny” is the second of three tracks on the album named, presumably, for a character the song aims to illustrate. Jarosz has said that during this album, she “[Tried] to take a step back and look out at the world in my songwriting, rather than looking inward,” and spent much time constructing the album as a patchwork of memories from her hometown in Texas, both faithful and fictionalized.

“Johnny” conveys the psychological landscape of a slightly drunk, slightly disillusioned man who is “just waitin’ on the stars/ that will never align.” It’s all slightly devastating, yet the melody latches onto an unforgettable earworm of a hook uplifted by its folk-pop flavor. Jarosz incorporates a strings section alongside drums, electric guitar, and mandolin, seamlessly using the nuances of sound to bolster the complex mundanities of Johnny’s life.

“Pay It No Mind”

Jarosz shares the songwriting credits on “Pay It No Mind” (also off of World on the Ground) with the renowned John Leventhal, who also produced the album and plays a slew of instruments sprinkled throughout. The song begins with just Sarah and a pensive guitar riff, musing upon a bird and her ponderings. The song then builds in dynamics, layering percussion and eventually a full orchestration of instruments and vocals. It’s slick, it’s sly, and it looks at the world with a cool sense of distance.

“I Still Haven’t Found What I’m Looking For” / “my future”

In the midst of quarantine, Sarah Jarosz committed to staying connected with fans by using Garageband and her home microphone to record one cover each week from July to October of 2020. In January 2021, she released two of the covers, U2’s “I Still Haven’t Found What I’m Looking For” and Billie Eilish’s “my future,” on streaming services. These barebones covers are a time capsule of a moment drenched in emotion, isolation, and fear. Catharsis swells through the minimalistic recordings – Jarosz cradles her whole soul into these songs, and the results are absolutely astounding.

“Mama”

For her sixth full-length studio album, Blue Heron Suite (2021), Sarah Jarosz released a song cycle that she first premiered at Freshgrass in 2017, whereupon she was awarded with the Freshgrass Composition Commission. At the time, Sarah was reckoning with her mother’s cancer diagnosis and reflecting upon childhood trips to the town of Port Aransas, Texas, which at that time had recently been severely affected by Hurricane Harvey. Named for the Great Blue Herons she and her mother used to observe along the town’s shore, this album is imbued with love and hope in its deepest forms. “Mama,” the opening track, is an utterly gorgeous, pared-down arrangement of voice and guitar – a most gentle and tender ode to Jarosz’s mother, who is thankfully now in remission.

“For Free” (with David Crosby)

An astonishing songwriter and pioneer of three-part harmony in American roots/folk music as we know it, David Crosby was a long time supporter of Sarah Jarosz’s work up until his passing last January. Sarah graced the title track of Crosby’s final full-length solo album, For Free (2021). The two sing the entirety of this Joni Mitchell cover in tight harmony, their voices mirroring one another perfectly. The pared back solo piano accompaniment highlights the duo’s vocal finesse; every riff is intertwined with precision and elegance.

“Jealous Moon”

“Jealous Moon” was the first of four singles SJ released from her upcoming album, Polaroid Lovers (out this Friday). Co-written alongside Daniel Tashian, the record’s producer, Sarah remarks of the song, “I’m always seeking to push myself into new sonic territory, and this song gave me permission to not hold back.” In this track, she boldly steps away from her traditional acoustic tethers and moves towards a more pop-rock-twang fusion. Jarosz successfully elicits a sense of novelty while still embodying the sense of fullness and depth she puts into all she creates – reminding us that we still have yet to see the full bloom of her artistry.

Photo Credit: Shervin Lainez

Artist of the Month: Sarah Jarosz

Posted on by Justin Hiltner

The songs of Sarah Jarosz have always been snapshots. Each, whether literally or obliquely, is a tableau – a window into a moment in time, an attempt to capture but never contain the intangible present. Whether demonstrable story songs or abstract, poetic text paintings, Jarosz’s catalog of material shows a ubiquitous skill – a writerly athleticism – for ushering her listeners into the scenes she inhabits or constructs. From her earliest release to her newest, Polaroid Lovers (out January 26 on Rounder Records), Jarosz’s point of view has been confident, relatable, and inviting.

Simultaneously, the expansive body of work she’s produced since her 2009 Sugar Hill debut, Song Up in Her Head, tells a tale as much of uncertainty as of skill and finesse and, within that uncertainty, a commitment to relishing the journey – rather than rushing toward an arbitrary destination.

A teenager when she first gained national notoriety, Jarosz was often compared to her mentor-peer-friend Chris Thile and her contemporary, Sierra Hull. While child bluegrass, Americana, and string band stars – proverbial and oft-mythologized prodigies – have a much more gentle route to adulthood than say, their Hollywood counterparts, it’s still a time hallmarked by experimentation, growing pains, exploration, and a prerequisite amount of floundering. Musically, Jarosz may have “floundered” a bit less than say, Hull or Thile or any kid whose teen years may have had a recorded, audio history. Nevertheless, you can trace a through line of angst, introspection, and finding oneself underlying the precocious self confidence of her early albums.

By the time Jarosz reached 2013’s Build Me Up From Bones, which gained her her first Best Folk Album Grammy nomination, that uncertainty was no longer an undertone, but a focal point in her music. On both Bones and the follow up full-length, Undercurrent, which then won the Grammy for Best Folk Album, Jarosz picks up and runs with those musical expectations, whether overt or projected. She plays with the dichotomy between the public nature of her growing up a heart-on-her-sleeve songwriter and bluegrass picker and the individual, private nature of seeking and finding her own agency within those paradigms. She purposefully built broad and appealing, commercial songs that are both assured in their sincerity and unconcerned with virtuosity or authenticity for their own sakes. She knows exactly what she’s doing, even – if not especially – when she does not.

Needless to say, the following projects World On The Ground and Blue Heron Suite feel like they are both indelible home bases built on the steady foundation of the albums that led to them. Each are distillations of Jarosz’s musical commitment to bringing her audience inside the turmoil and delight, growth and doubt, beauty and bittersweetness of life and song. Jarosz had arrived at her destination, hadn’t she? In her beloved New York City, a Grammy winning artist, picker, and songwriter who knows who she is and why she does what she does.

Ah, but remember, it’s the journey Sarah Jarosz is after and not the destination. Polaroid Lovers is a lens into the new growing pains, the new uncertainty, the new uprooting and, eventually, re-rooting Jarosz finds herself in the middle of now. She recently moved to Nashville, building a life with her new husband, bassist Jeff Picker. Polaroid Lovers, like its predecessors, brings the listener into how living in Nashville has reshaped Jarosz’s songwriting and creative and recording processes.

It may not sound like a Music Row album – it sounds, as all of her work does, exactly like Sarah Jarosz. Whatever that sounds like! – but it’s a collection that has the Row tangled among its roots and certainly in the water. Polaroid Lovers was recorded at Sound Emporium and produced by Daniel Tashian, plus it has many a credited co-writer, a bit of a departure for the songwriter who, besides in her work with Aoife O’Donovan and Sara Watkins in I’m With Her, rarely co-writes material for her own albums, preferring to pen most lyrics and tunes herself. Music Row and Americana hit writers like Ruston Kelly, Natalie Hemby, Jon Randall, Gordie Sampson, Tashian, and others each lent their own fingerprints and touches to this set of song snapshots.

Does Polaroid Lovers sound new? Does it sound like Nashville? Yes, it certainly does, but it doesn’t sound instant or ready-made either, and it always sounds like quintessential Jarosz. This is evidenced nowhere on the record as strongly as one of its lead singles, “Columbus & 89th.” Among more than a few masterworks in Jarosz’s catalog that center on her beloved, transplanted (former) hometown, New York City, “Columbus & 89th” is perhaps the best example of the form. Wistful and hopeful, with a tinge of bittersweetness from the wisdom that comes with age, it paints such a specific picture – of a literal street corner – but, as in all of her snapshots, this polaroid is not confining or finite, it’s resplendent and limitless. Following the photography metaphor one step further, it’s not difficult to see how the perspective Jarosz has gained by moving away from the city might have enabled her to render such a picture perfect homage to New York.

This is a vibrant, animated collection of Polaroid Lovers. This is Sarah Jarosz at her best– for now.

Watch for our Artist of the Month interview feature with Jarosz to come later this month, plus we’ll do a catalog deep dive and showcase plenty more content pulled from the BGS archives. For now, enjoy our Essential Sarah Jarosz Playlist:

Photo Credit: Shervin Lainez

If You Love Boygenius, You’ll Love These 18 Folk Bands

Posted on by Justin Hiltner

Can’t get enough of the record by boygenius? We understand and empathize. Did your ears perk up immediately when you heard the twinkle of the banjo on “Cool About It?” Do you rewatch the video of Julien Baker, Lucy Dacus, and Phoebe Bridgers performing The Chicks’ “Cowboy, Take Me Away” over and over and over again? If so, this list is for you. 

It’s not hard to place boygenius within the universe of folk music and its endless variations, with their perfectly blended, nearly familial harmonies, their lyrics and song structures that are so singable, cyclical, and relatable, and the way, together, they exceed the sum of their individual parts by leaps and bound. Comparisons to other iconic supergroups – Dolly, Linda, and Emmylou’s Trio, or Crosby, Stills, Nash, & Young – illustrate further that boygenius are often a string band and always a folk group. 

We’ve collected songs from 18 other folk groups that also center female and femme friendship, slippery harmonies, and egalitarian ensemble arrangements in their music. If you adore boygenius, these acoustic bands are for you. 

(Editor’s Note: Scroll for the playlist version of this collection.)

JOSEPH

The band JOSEPH’s latest release, The Sun, is perhaps their furthest foray into pop- and indie-folk, with a sound that’s not just adjacent to “the boys” of boygenius, but often parallels the genre and aesthetic territories explored by the latter trio. These songs are rich and fully realized, from the tender and contemplative to full-bore rock and roll. Remind you of anyone? 

Rainbow Girls

We’ve loved watching this California-based group grow and expand their listenership across the country and around the world, from the Bay Area to Cayamo and beyond. Like boygenius, Rainbow Girls have quite a few joyous, smile-inducing cover videos that are wildly popular on the internet, but the group really shines while singing sad, introspective songs that still make you feel so good. 

The Wailin’ Jennys

Since their first studio album in 2004, the Wailin’ Jennys have become one of the most beloved vocal trios in bluegrass, old-time, and folk music, with a robust, devoted international fan base. Perhaps best known for their appearances on public radio, the Juno Award-winning ensemble is in a phase of part-time, infrequent touring while balancing motherhood and solo projects, too. Their cover of “Wildflowers” remains one of the most popular BGS posts in the history of the site. 

The Chicks

An important addition to this list – the aforementioned “Cowboy, Take Me Away” cover by the boys notwithstanding – the similarities between the Chicks and boygenius are many. Righteous anger, agency, and collective rebellion, flouting gender roles, “tradition,” and industry norms – the list could go on and on. But perhaps the most striking throughline between both trios are their evident prowess as instrumentalists, whether guitar, fiddle, banjo, or voice. And there’s a tambour to Phoebe and Julien’s vocals that certainly conjures the crystalline, one of a kind singing of Natalie Maines. 

Mountain Man

What would boygenius be, together or separately, without longing? Without lost or waning or fading or burning or lustful or ethereal love? Love that’s sexual and romantic and hungry, but love that’s tender, platonic, and eternal, too. Mountain Man, who describe themselves as a “trio of devoted friends,” conjure all of the above within their catalog and certainly on “Baby Where You Are,” with a vocal arrangement that could have been pulled right from the record. 

Plains

Country-folk duo Plains, a duo made up of Katie Crutchfield (Waxahatchee) and Jess Williamson, could be described, in a boygenius-centric way, as sounding like that band dragged through… well, the plains. There’s an agnostic, informal country aesthetic here that sounds just like the prairie of which they sing on “Abilene.” And, their origin story matches the boys’, as well, with Crutchfield and Williamson first admiring each other’s music before joining forces. There are far worse impetuses to start a band than mutual admiration.

I’m With Her

Does the transitive property apply to trio supergroups? Because, if I’m With Her is a band of bona fide bluegrassers playing delicious indie-folk and folk-rock, then that makes boygenius, a delicious indie-folk and folk-rock band that much closer to being bluegrass, right? Right? Okay, it’s nonsense, but genre is dead. (Long live genre!) We love how our friends in I’m With Her, Sarah Jarosz, Aoife O’Donovan, and Sara Watkins have colored outside the genre lines across their entire careers, not just in their collaborations together. Now, for a collaboration between I’m With Her and boygenius. Please.

 Trio 

While Dolly Parton, Emmylou Harris, and Linda Ronstadt collaborated on Trio and Trio II at the heights of their careers, boygenius came together as a supergroup when each of its members were on steep ascents, launching into the stratosphere. Somehow, as with Trio, the collective art boygenius has created supersedes even their heightening fame, not just as artists and musicians but as celebrities, too. These are just some of the reasons Trio comes to mind in the same train of musical thought as boygenius. Another is the “True Blue” friendships underpinning both groups.

case/lang/veirs

Our hearts, be still, because a few short days ago kd lang shared a photo on Instagram with Laura Veirs captioned: “Waiting on Mr. @nekocaseofficial to bring the love…” Whatever they’re working on, it will be must-listen and anxiously awaited! There are so many connection points between this incredible assemblage of musicians and the boys. Queerness; ethereal production; poetic lyrics; swapped lead vocals; oh-so-much text painting. If you’ve never given case/lang/veirs’ 2016 self-titled album an in-depth listen, there’s no better time. But the lead track, “Atomic Number” is an excellent audio swatch for the entire record.

Lula Wiles

Though on indefinite hiatus, Lula Wiles remains one of BGS’ favorite folk groups to emerge from the New England / northeast string band scene in the 2010s. Like boygenius, Isa Burke, Eleanor Buckland, and Mali Obamsawin each have vibrant and widely variable (while interconnected) solo careers, so despite their music making as a group being on pause, there’s a wealth of music in their combined and individual catalogs to binge your way through. We suggest starting with “Hometown,” a track that’s stuck with us since its release on What Will We Do in 2019. 

Lucius

One in the solidly pop/pop-rock category, Lucius still have dabbled often and intentionally in Americana, folk, and country, as demonstrated by this track from their latest album, Second Nature, which features their friend and tourmate Brandi Carlile and country star Sheryl Crow. It listens more similar to Phoebe Bridgers’ or Lucy Dacus’ genre aesthetics overall, but still calls on two roots musicians and vocalists, highlighting the mainstream success such cross pollinations attract.

Kate & Anna McGarrigle

Known for their iconic, self-titled 1975 album Kate & Anna McGarrigle, often referred to as the McGarrigles or the McGarrigle Sisters, epitomized the post-folk revival appetite for sincerity, authenticity, and literature in song, but their music never felt trope-ish, cheesy, or painfully earnest at the same time. Instead, its impact comes from its vulnerability and raw emotion, as in “Go Leave,” a song written by Kate for her unfaithful husband (Loudon Wainwright III). The lyrics drip with an indelible pain, reminding of Lucy, Julien, and Phoebe all, who for ours and hopefully their own benefit, often bare their entire souls in song.

Our Native Daughters

There’s a quality to boygenius’ music that reminds of church, of songs intentionally crafted for group singing and raising our voices up together. Perhaps it’s their bond as friends or their love of seamlessly blended harmonies and unisons, perhaps it’s their own histories with and upbringings in/around the church, perhaps it’s the relatability of their lyrics, but whatever it is their music begs to be joined. The same is true for Songs of Our Native Daughters, by roots music allstars Rhiannon Giddens, Leyla McCalla, Amythyst Kiah, and Allison Russell. You can hear their voices twining not only in sound, but in message and mission, and listeners can’t help but feel the urge to sing along. Music by community and for community, that centers and celebrates the friendships of those creating it. 

The Secret Sisters

 The Secret Sisters have a penchant for the macabre, the spooky, the longest shadows and the darkest nights, often sung to a gritty minor key. They highlight the classic Southern Gothic aesthetics of their Alabama homeland with a groundedness and hair-raising realism. It’s not difficult to picture them, say, wearing rhinestoned skeleton suits. This collaboration with their friend and (sometimes) producer Brandi Carlile soars, highlighting the similarities between Laura Rogers’ and Lydia (Rogers) Slagle’s and Lucy Dacus’ voices. 

Larkin Poe

Now, from which folk and acoustic group can you get the rock and roll, shredding guitar solo, writhing on the ground, leaping into the crowd, pyrotechnic, Julien Baker-sprinting-across-the-stage, grand finale level energy for which boygenius is becoming known as they tour the record? It’s that caricature of a caricature of rockism that boygenius do so well. Look no further than blues duo Larkin Poe, made up of sisters Rebecca and Megan Lovell (who, the diehard fans will remember, began their careers as a family bluegrass band). Every song on their albums or in their live sets is dialed to eleven on the face-melting meter. They skewer the performative masculinity of the genres they inhabit – just like boygenius – not by mocking, but by doing it better. And we love the genderfuckery and queerness they bring performing a lyric like “She’s a Self Made Man.” Again, just like boygenius.

The Roches

What could be more archetypically boygenius than exploring familial trauma? A gutting hook standalone, taken in this context sung by sisters Maggie, Terre, and Suzzy Roche, “Runs in the Family” is jaw-dropping. Another group lauded and adored for their releases in ‘70s and into the ‘80s. Their music runs in the family, too, with Lucy Wainwright Roche (daughter of Suzzy), who is an accomplished singer-songwriter. Keep Dacus’ “Thumbs” and the record’s “Without You Without Them” in mind as you listen.

The Burney Sisters

Fuzzy, full, and angry guitar is the sound bed for this, the title track from The Burney Sisters’ latest album, Then We’ll Talk. One of the hallmarks of boygenius’ generation of women and femme rockers is that their expressions of anger, justice, agency, and self advocacy feel real, not just like costuming for a genre that prides itself on counterculture and middle fingers literal and proverbial. When you hear women express anger in rock and roll, it doesn’t feel affected or constructed, and that’s one of the main reasons why women continue to lead – and revive – the genre.

Shook Twins

Part of the appeal of a group like boygenius, and Shook Twins as well, is the beauty in lyrics simply stating exactly what they mean. These songs are accessible, listenable, resonant, and thereby incredibly impactful. “Safe” by Portland, Oregon-based twin sisters Katelyn Shook and Laurie Shook is one of their most popular numbers – especially their acoustic version. The singer cries out to be seen, heard, and loved. A common refrain for Phoebe, Lucy, and Julien as well. 

Photo Credit: Matt Grubb

BGS Top 50 Moments: Lifting “The Weight” of the Pandemic With the Whiskey Sour Happy Hour

Posted on by Shelby Williamson

It was still early in the pandemic – April of 2020 maybe – when the idea started percolating amongst Ed and the BGS staff. Here we were, stuck at home in lockdown, seeing so many of our artist friends struggling to make ends meet while the world around us came to a screeching halt. We didn’t know what we should do, but we needed to do something.

And hence the Whiskey Sour Happy Hour was born. A riff on Ed’s long-running live variety show at Largo in L.A., the Whiskey Sour Radio Hour, we would pull all of our collective favors to create a four-part series that could hopefully bring a little joy to our friends and fans, and raise some money for two amazing charities in the process.

Collaborating with our friends at the Americana Music Association, WSHH quickly became a mashup of our very favorite folks – musicians, comedians, and entertainers – but also a way for our team to feel like we were re-connected. After months of isolation, it was re-energizing to not only be working on something creative, but something we were proud of, too.

Talent pooled in from all over – from Billy Strings to Stephen Colbert, Lee Ann Womack to Kenny G (yes, that Kenny G) – everyone performing live from their living rooms and brought together by host Ed Helms.

No other number signified the massive effort and joy that went into the WSHH than the all-star superjam rendition of “The Weight.” With over twenty-five contributors jamming along from across the country, it was six minutes of glorious respite, where the weight of the pandemic was suddenly lifted and we were once again surrounded by the comfort of friends.

Cover photo: I’m With Her (Sara Watkins, Sarah Jarosz, Aoife O’Donovan)

MIXTAPE: The Wilder Blue’s Smooth Harmony Jams

Posted on by Editor

Something special happens when multiple human voices intertwine. Maybe it stirs something in our DNA, some echo of countless lost generations and the songs they sang together on countless fire-lit nights. All I know is that people love it. It’s the part of our show people remark upon the most afterward, often adding something along the lines of “You just don’t hear harmonies like that much anymore.” While it does seem to be true that solo artists tend to dominate the charts these days, there are still a lot of groups out there keeping harmonies alive. Here are some of our favorites from both past and present. — The Wilder Blue

From Paul Eason, lead guitar

Alison Krauss & Union Station – “Maybe” (from Live From The Louisville Palace, Kentucky)

These harmonies (which are performed live!) are just super interesting and not predictable. I love how the first chorus is just a single harmony and the second adds the third part.

Punch Brothers – “My Oh My”

These guys are just some of the best musicians alive, and their harmonies match their virtuosic instrumentalism. I have seen them do it live, and it seems they are incapable of singing even slightly off pitch.

Darrell Scott – “No Love in Arkansas”

I don’t know if I love the harmonies as much as I just love this song. It has the feel of a live recording — but a real, real good live recording. I get the impression that Darrell surrounded himself with players as effortlessly musical as he is, and the song just came out the way it was supposed to be.

from Andy Rogers, multi-instrumentalist

Bluegrass Album Band – “So Happy I’ll Be”

I grew up singing bluegrass gospel music with my family and this tune always stuck out to me. I love the call-and-response singing and of course that sweet guitar pickin’.

I’m With Her – “See You Around”

I can’t say enough good things about these three artists’ solo work, but putting them together and hearing those beautiful three-part female harmonies is just magical to me. They sort of remind of a more modern sounding Trio.

The Brother Brothers – “On the Road Again”

I found this group through a friend’s suggestion and just instantly loved it. I mean, does it get much better than sibling harmony? They are incredible songwriters as well. I often send this tune out to the guys in the band when we’ve been off the road for a little too long, at least in my opinion, lol.

from Sean Rodriguez, bassist

The Band – “Time to Kill”

I think it’s pretty undeniable the effect The Band had on harmony-driven bands in America, despite everyone but Levon Helm being Canadian. This great Richard Manuel-led song I think is underrated in their catalog and has great harmony parts throughout.

Billy Preston – “Let the Music Play”

After watching The Beatles doc Get Back, I couldn’t resist the urge to dive further into Billy Preston’s catalog. The vocal arrangements here bit me hard and haven’t let go.

The Staples Singers – “Respect Yourself”

There’s just something special about a family that sings harmony together. The blend of the voices can’t be beat, not to mention the message here. Respect yourself, baby!

from Zach Williams, frontman

Brandi Carlile – “The Eye”

This was the song that got me hooked on Brandi. I was instantly roped in by the beautiful stripped-down harmonies and The Firewatcher’s Daughter is still my favorite album of hers.

Alabama – “I’m in a Hurry (And Don’t Know Why)”

There were a lot of great harmony-based country groups in the ’90s. I could’ve picked Diamond Rio, Blackhawk, Little Texas, or any number of others. But this is the one that came to mind, and I remember jamming along with it back in my college days.

Acappella – “I Feel Good”

Speaking of my college days, I was raised in the church of Christ and went to Abilene Christian University. Churches of Christ traditionally don’t use instruments in worship and the whole congregation sings together in four-part harmony. My first paying gig as a musician was singing bass and beat-boxing in an all-vocal group at ACU, and I only wished I could sing bass like the guy in this premier C of C singing outfit… Acappella

from Lyndon Hughes, drummer

Eagles – “Witchy Woman”

This is one of my favorite Eagles tunes. The way they break it down on the bridge to just vocals, drums and bass is absolutely brilliant. #BandGoals

Dan Fogelberg – “Leader of the Band”

Oh the smooth harmonies of Dan Fogelberg. Nothing too complicated… just crystal clear vocals and guitars (and a bonus horn solo).

The Beatles – “Because”

Here is a beautiful and eerie song by a little known band called The Beatles. Over 50 years later… the harmonies never get old.

Photo Credit: Cal and Aly

With His Son and Special Guests, David Crosby Finds His Way on ‘For Free’

Posted on by Editor

“I think I found my way.”

When a guy about to turn 80 sings that line, you take note. When that guy is David Crosby, who in fact turns that age on August 14… well…

“I don’t know if I would have sung it at any other time in my life,” Crosby says in a Zoom chat from his home north of Santa Barbara, California, where he lives with Jan Dance, his wife of 34 years.

But sing it he does, in the song “I Think I,” a highlight of his new album, For Free. With this, his fifth album in seven years (after just three solo albums in the earlier part of his career), he comes to his 80th in a remarkable creative run. It’s a strong collection featuring the fruits of several creative collaborations, mostly with his son, James Raymond. Among the guests are Michael McDonald on the shining opener “River Rise,” Steely Dan’s Donald Fagen on the jazzy, dark “Rodriguez For a Night” and Sarah Jarosz, with whom he duets on a gorgeously spare version of the Joni Mitchell song that gives the album its title.

It’s that line from “I Think I,” though, that speaks most profoundly to the state of his life. If you know much about that life, you understand. And you might greet those words with a sigh of relief. He certainly does.

“I do feel happy now,” he says. “The thing I love about the song the most is that it’s up. It’s, you know, happy sounding. Normally I record tortured ballads that go on for days. ‘The dog died’ or ‘my truck broke down.’ This is up and happy and positive and it just captures that mood that’s around. That’s a blessing for me. That’s a great thing.”

The life leading to this moment has been well-documented and much discussed. Most significantly, Crosby created some of the most bracing, beloved, and enduring American music of the past 60 years, first as a founding member of folk-rock pioneers the Byrds and then in the various partnerships with Stephen Stills, Graham Nash and/or Neil Young. Along with the essential, indelible songs CSN(&Y) gave us, there was much discord and discontent and it finally blew up, apparently for good, in 2014, sparked in part by some unfortunate remarks Crosby made regarding Young’s personal life. And Crosby’s history is marked by his years of drug addiction and a consequent prison term and liver transplant — and, thankfully, recovery. This was all covered in Remember My Name, the unflinching 2019 documentary that brought him to some painfully heartfelt reckonings.

For better or worse, Crosby’s legacy is tangled up with groups and partnerships. Asked to untangle it, he turns thoughtful.

“A lot of the musical complexity and strangeness comes from me loving jazz and world music,” he says. “I mean, I like a lot of different kinds of music, man. I like bluegrass. I like blues. I like classical music. And that has influenced me very strongly. Particularly jazz, and particularly jazz keyboard players, McCoy Tyner, Bill Evans, people like that. They have had a very strong influence because they played those real dense, big tone, cluster kinds of chords. And I couldn’t do them in regular tuning on the guitar. That’s what made me start re-tuning the guitar into other shapes so that I could get those kind of chords. So the jazz thing really did stack me up differently.”

That influence has been a constant facet, all the way back to the Byrds (“Everybody’s Been Burned” is almost a template for the folk-jazz explorations Tim Buckley would make) and CSN (“Guinnevere,” with its floating harmonics, was covered by both Miles Davis and jazz flute player Herbie Mann).

These days Crosby is not focused on the past, although with last year’s 50th anniversary of the CSN&Y album Déjà Vu and the expanded deluxe reissue, he’s had to do more of that than he’d like.

“I always prefer when it comes to talking about me, I like it to be somebody else doing the talking,” he says.

He’s not focused on the future, either. He says that he likely won’t tour again and with tendonitis in both hands, he expects he won’t be able to play guitar anymore within a year — a great shame as his guitar playing, with its intricate jazz voicings and inventive tunings, is as stunning as his singing, if not as widely recognized.

He’s certainly not looking forward to his birthday.

“No, no, no, no, no, no, no!” he insists. “Birthdays are not happy when you get old. No, no, no, no, no, no! We don’t celebrate. We mourn those.”

Yet he’s utterly bubbly celebrating the new album, as well as the four leading up to it, by far his most prolific stretch in terms of making and releasing his own music. It’s not often that we can say that about someone’s 70s, let alone someone with such a vaunted career packed with songs and albums cherished dearly by millions.

“Isn’t that weird?” he says. “It’s just completely bass-ackwards. But there you go.”

To what does he attribute this?

“I got out of CSN,” he says, never one to mince words. “It was, obviously, a wonderful band and we did a lot of really great stuff. But when it when sour, it went really sour. And it went sour very fast.”

It was rough, but the silver lining shines brightly.

“I don’t make anywhere near as much money,” he says. “But I’m making good music. And that’s kind of what they put me here to do, I think.”

Cue the title song, Mitchell’s loving portrait of a street musician playing for the pure joy of it. This is the third straight Crosby album to include a Mitchell song, following “Amelia” on 2017’s Sky Trails and “Woodstock” closing 2018’s Here If You Listen. Crosby, who was an early champion (and romantic partner) of Mitchell’s, producing her debut album, Song to a Seagull, sang “For Free” on the Byrds’ 1973 reunion album. Now, though, it has a deeper resonance, reconnecting to the essence of music-making. Rather than an observer, he’s the guy in the song.

“Yep,” he says. “There I am standing on the corner. It’s squarely, smack dab in the middle of who I wanted to be, as me. I love what it says. Putting it on as the title track is also taking a little dig at the streamers. Because it is for free, man. They don’t pay us.”

Crosby had become a fan of Sarah Jarosz via I’m With Her, the group in which she’s teamed with Aoife O’Donovan and Sara Watkins. And he loved Jarosz’s 2020 album, World on the Ground.

“I called her up and said, ‘Listen, Sarah. Can we do something together?’” he says. “And she said, ‘Sure! What do you want to do?’ And I said, ‘I don’t know. I just want to sing with you.’ And she said, ‘Oh, you sweetheart.’”

Crosby quickly suggested “For Free.”

“I’ve sung it a bunch, and I’m confident with it,” he told her. “She said, ‘Oh, I love that song.’ So I sent her a tape of it that I went in to the studio and cut. James made this incredible piano track for it. Just beautiful. Sarah sent it back with her vocal on it, and it completely blew my mind out of my ear. It was unbelievably good.”

Clearly, Crosby still craves collaboration. A sense of joyful purpose is unmistakable in his voice and in the voices and playing of those who helped him make the album. Foremost is James Raymond, the producer-composer-keyboardist who has been at Crosby’s musical side regularly since 1997, five years after learning that Crosby was his biological father. His talents have been showcased not only in his father’s solo projects, but also for years with CSN as a full-time member of the touring band, and in the jazzy group Crosby and Raymond fronted off and on with bassist Jeff Pevar, cheekily branded CPR. On For Free, Raymond wrote or co-wrote seven of its 10 songs, including “I Think I” and the somberly beautiful closer, “I Won’t Stay for Long,” inspired by Marcel Camus’ haunting 1959 film Black Orpheus.

“It’s wild to watch,” Crosby beamed. “He’s gotten to be as good a writer as I am, or better. ‘I Won’t Stay for Long’ is the best song on the record. It makes me cry. It just freaks me out.”

Guitarist Dean Parks adds color to “Rodriguez” and “Shot at Me,” the latter a powerful ballad which he co-wrote from Crosby’s words inspired by an encounter with an Afghanistan war veteran, who told him of the most human costs of war. It’s a strong addition to Crosby’s deep catalog of incisive, biting topical songs.

“I seem to run into those guys and talk to them,” Crosby says. “I ran into this guy at the airport and was drinking in the bar and he looked really bummed, really sad. So sure, I talked to him.”

As for not being able to tour anymore, Crosby is sad but sanguine.

“Singing live is the great joy of my life,” he says. “My family and singing live. That’s the top of my world, you know?”

Even if the shows stop, the music won’t, right?

“I don’t know,” he says. “I can still sing. That’s why we’re doing the records, because we love making music. Right? They obviously don’t pay us for them, so that’s the only reason there could be. We’re not trying to win the ratings war or something. We’re just singing exactly the music that really rings our bell and makes our heart sing. And there you go. And if people like it, great. And if they don’t like it, great, we don’t care.”

Photo credit: Anna Webber.
Album cover painting by Joan Baez.

With Day Jobs on Hold, These Acoustic Musicians Go Solo (Sort Of)

Posted on by Justin Hiltner

The widespread shuttering of the music industry during coronavirus has given many musicians, bands, and artists the opportunity to inspect and reconfigure their priorities. In the many months since COVID-19 was declared a pandemic, this phenomenon has been well-documented in writing about music — music released as a result of the coronavirus or released in its all-eclipsing shadow, both. Artists have altered so many of the ways they interact with and create music and watching creatives respond to this worldwide cataclysm has been all at once entrancing and existential. 

Especially in instrumental music. Especially in instrumental music made in the off time — away from the “day job,” the main gig, or perhaps, again the off time afforded by COVID. In the gaps, where life allows, acoustic musicians in bluegrass, Americana, and old-time have been exploring the existential questions brought about by the pandemic — and also often by parenthood, by identity, by health and well being, or simply by the pursuit of self — in endlessly fascinating musical endeavors.

Andrew Marlin, co-frontperson of longtime Americana string duo Watchhouse (formerly known as Mandolin Orange) released not one but two albums of such endeavors this year, ostensible results of introspection of his role as a father, fighting-while-resigning-to the day-to-day beauties and fears within fatherhood. There’s a bleak, beautiful nakedness to “The Jaybird,” off Fable & Fire, an age-old sounding fiddle tune with sleek, modern simplicities that seem to indicate the gorgeousness possible from being still, watching, waiting, and listening. 

On Witching Hour, “Too Hot To Move” isn’t a barn burner, it’s a Musgraves-level slow burn; a tepid, mosquito-laden, languid afternoon on a back porch, the air thick with humidity. Again, striking in its display of the delectable everyday, in not just occupying the same place with the same people daily, but inhabiting that place with intention. Marlin’s backing band of Clint Mullican (bass), Josh Oliver (guitar, piano, and more), Jordan Tice (guitar, bouzouki), and Christian Sedelmeyer (fiddle) is largely consistent between the projects as well, reiterating this point.

Sara Watkins, known for many a “main gig” — whether that be Watkins Family Hour, Nickel Creek, or I’m With Her — released another fantastic solo offering, built on many of the same tenets evident in Marlin’s recordings. Under the Pepper Tree, whose title track is the album’s sole instrumental, is a whimsical, winking collection of near-lullabies and other ageless classics rendered as only Watkins could, with pop underpinnings and gloss, but a worn, charming patina of bluegrass and Americana via the American Songbook and its associated canon. 

“Under the Pepper Tree” listens like a fiddled campfire coda to a day on the trail; or, similarly, as if a goodnight to Watkins’ young daughter, after returning from tour. While the album as a whole carries the movement and adventure of the Wild West, as well as theatre and cinema and gaiety, its sense of place — of rootedness — is remarkable, especially in “Under the Pepper Tree,” oozing of lessons learned and intentions made underneath its boughs through pandemic isolation. 

Continuing on fiddle, Mike Barnett’s non-Ricky Skaggs & Kentucky Thunder project released in 2020, +1, feels like somewhat familiar territory, a collection of duets with friends and musical compatriots that stretches out purposefully and athletically from his tours with the Country Music Hall of Famer (who also appears on the album). “Piece O’ Shrimp,” with guest Alex Hargreaves on twin fiddle, is wonky, newgrassy, orchestral, and sly with old-time baked in and a dash of Darol Anger & Mike Marshall’s duet work. 

The poetry in the tune, and the entire project really, came from a health-related pausing of a different kind, though. While the rest of us felt the world halt due to the coronavirus, Barnett’s record release, as well as his performing career, were unexpectedly paused when Barnett suffered a cerebral hemorrhage in July 2020. This collection of songs gains an entirely new meaning, not only in the context of COVID-19, but also as a waypoint on Barnett’s journey through music, his recovery, and his eventual return to playing. Still in in-patient rehabilitation and therapy, Barnett posted an update via GoFundMe (support here) in February 2021 that closed, “…A full recovery is possible and likely!” 

Finally, to conclude our foray into solo instrumental explorations, Sam Armstrong-Zickefoose, multi-instrumentalist and songwriter of Meadow Mountain, considers ideas of place, identity, and belonging on his upcoming crowdfunded release, Spark in Your Smile. Decidedly forsaking tradition-adjacency, perhaps more than might be expected if a listener’s entry point is Meadow Mountain, the album is a testament to Armstrong-Zickefoose’s commitment to community building; he’s utilizing music and creative expression for that purpose. The expansive quality of the project’s lack of genre conjures joy first and foremost, especially on “Mona,” and globe-crossing communities as a near second, each instrument, texture, and tone evidence of what’s possible when roots music allows folks to be and to belong. A priority high on everyone’s list, but especially queer folks in bluegrass, old-time, and Americana like Armstrong-Zickefoose.

As touring bands return to the road, it will continue to be fascinating to watch musicians navigate the reconfiguration of their priorities — and how they will continue to carve out the time to express themselves, instrumentally and otherwise, while life, and the music industry, charges on ahead.

Photo credit: Sara Watkins by Jacob Boll; Andrew Marlin by Lindsey Rome.

Sara Watkins Finds a Dreamy Rhythm With ‘Under the Pepper Tree’

Posted on by Amy Reitnouer

The Schinus molle — more commonly known as the California pepper tree — can grow up to 45 feet high and 50 feet wide, producing small yellow flowers and rose-colored berries, and bringing shade to everything within reach. For Nickel Creek originator Sara Watkins, the pepper tree brings about memories of family, youthful fun, and inspiration for her latest record, Under the Pepper Tree. Produced by Tyler Chester, the 15-song album is a personal project for Watkins, including songs from her own childhood alongside a few original compositions. Reuniting Nickel Creek, I’m With Her, and a range of guest performances, she tackles favorite songs such as “Pure Imagination” (from Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory) and “Blue Shadows on the Trail” (from The Three Amigos).

BGS caught up with Watkins from her California home to talk about the inspirations behind Under the Pepper Tree, and the experience of making a record like this during the COVID-19 pandemic.

BGS: Was the making of this album a different experience from those you’ve done in the past?

Watkins: Yeah, and not just because we did it during COVID. That was a huge appeal in working with Tyler Chester — he can play so many instruments so well. His musicality comes out on each instrument really well. Other than that, I knew early on that it would be necessary for the songs to weave together. As I was collecting these songs, realizing that so many of them are kind of dreamy and mellow, I wasn’t dealing with the typical balance of “up” songs, “down” songs, “sad” songs, “happy” songs, the way those things can affect the sequence of a normal album. Because of the nature of this material, a lot of the songs had a similar dreamy quality, so I thought by connecting them all, that would let the album kind of drift along, and hopefully sweep you up in a way that might not happen if they were all just 15 individual tracks. 

Before going in to record the project, we did a bit of a practice swing, just to see how the sequence might work together. We made some changes to the sequence and adjusted the transitions accordingly, so that everything went together as well as possible. This is the first time I’ve sequenced an album before going in to record, and I really enjoyed the result and how it affected the process throughout. It’s definitely something I’m going to bring with me into my future projects, even if I don’t do it exactly the same way. I’m going to consider it very seriously before starting records. 

How did getting to be home during the pandemic influence your day to day, and outlook on this album?

If affected it completely. I don’t think I would have made this record without the experience of just being home, and realizing that I needed some kind of rhythm, needed something that would tell me that today was passing. I’m new to being home, the way that all musicians are. That, combined with having a toddler now, was a new experience. The first couple years of being a mom I was on tour, and the rhythm of tour life is built into the work, the way that most people’s jobs provide a rhythm for their life. I think a lot of [musicians] were discovering that we needed to create those rhythms, by taking morning or evening walks around the neighborhood, by spending more time making meals or cooking, or doing whatever it is that helps cycle you in to the next part of the day. 

I was digging through my old record collection, and I would listen to five a day, and decide whether or not I wanted to keep them or whether I was done with them. A big part of me creating Under the Pepper Tree with vinyl in mind was because of this wonderful freedom that it gave me to put on a record and not have to make a choice for a while. I could just listen to it and not have to worry what song came up in the algorithm next, or decide whether or not I wanted to skip ahead. That freedom of just making one choice and being able to go about the rest of the things that I needed to do, it felt really liberating, like a kindness that I could do to myself. 

That also played into why I wanted to make this album with record listening in mind. It works great on digital too, but I imagined it being an A and B side. If you only listen to side A, you can get a full arc and it can send you into dreamland. And if you want to listen to it altogether, that’s another experience. 

Like with Nickel Creek on “Blue Shadows on the Trail,” were any specific guests important to certain songs?

“Tumbling Tumbleweeds” with Aoife [O’Donovan] and [Sarah] Jarosz, my I’m With Her bandmates, was just as important, because I really wanted both of those bands on this record. I feel like this album in a lot of ways celebrates this time in my life, and the music that I grew up with. For me also, it was an incredible way to get those two bands together on an album, because they’re both so meaningful to me, and have played such huge roles in my life, and in my growth and development as a person, as a mom. So it was incredibly meaningful to get to have them on it. 

All of the players on the record mean a lot to me, but I really also loved having Davíd Garza on this record, who is a dear friend. In particular, he plays this beautiful solo on “Moon River.” There’s a song on Emmylou Harris’ record Roses in the Snow when Willie Nelson comes in with a guitar solo, and then it sounds like he just goes away. When I first heard that record — I think it was in my early 20s — it was pretty informative to me about how a lot of times musicians can be known for one or two things, but they might not often get asked to just be a musician on somebody else’s record. I just love that [Harris] didn’t get Willie to sing on it, she got him to come in and play a guitar solo. That was really eye-opening for me, and changed the way I thought of playing with people. 

On “Moon River,” I specifically had that moment in mind where Willie comes in and plays a solo and goes away, and so Davíd graciously agreed to be my Willie Nelson on this song, and he does a wonderful job. 

Having a couple of original tunes on the record, what was your process behind writing something that incorporates naturally with these classic songs?

I felt like there should be a spot for fiddle on this record. I knew that I wanted to have an instrumental on here, and I knew that I wanted to write it. It was important to have a little break in the lyrics. It was great to expand my childhood story with the title of the [instrumental], “Under the Pepper Tree.” That has very personal weight to me. A lot of instrumental titles are pretty arbitrary in my experience, but this was an opportunity to share a little bit about my own childhood. 

There’s a tree that I spent a lot of time growing up with, playing in and imagining in. There are several very important pepper trees in my life. One of them is at my aunt’s house, where my grandma used to live. There were two huge family reunions under that pepper tree. I just remember running around with my cousins, playing tag, listening to my aunt’s laugh, all that stuff. It’s a really beautiful thing, and I think that had a natural place on the album. 

The other song [“Night Singing”] was a poem that I wrote, that eventually fell into a guitar part. Originally, I thought that this record would be a lullaby record, but my goal for the record changed. It was to make something a little more deeply transitional for people of all ages. But “Night Singing” is a true lullaby, for my daughter, for myself, and for my friends. 

Do you have any specific plans you’re looking forward to taking on when we climb out of this pandemic? 

This fall, my brother [Sean Watkins] and I are going to do some touring behind our Watkins Family Hour album brother sister, which came out a year ago now. We weren’t able to tour it, but a lot of the dates we had for last fall have been rescheduled for this fall, 2021. We have some dates on the books starting in August, which is kinda hard to believe! So this fall we’ll be able to do some in-person shows, and I’m really looking forward to it. 

I feel very stopped up in terms of creativity, because we wrote the brother sister record, recorded it, and put it out, and haven’t really been able to celebrate it with an audience. Then I put together Under the Pepper Tree, recorded that, released it, and I haven’t been able to do shows for it. There’s been writing for other projects, but I honestly feel a little bit stopped up creatively. I think I just need to perform some of these songs, and get them out of my body, so that I can put more stuff in. As alienating as this whole thing has felt for us, and as isolating as it has been, there has been to some degree a shared experience, and the universality of that has been reassuring at times for me. 

Sara and Sean Watkins, as Watkins Family Hour, are coming to Colorado in March 2022! Grab your tickets here.

Photo credit: Jacob Boll

Rescuing Her Musical Archive, Gillian Welch Reboots 2020 With ‘Boots No. 2’

Posted on by Editor

Fans of Gillian Welch have been rewarded for their customary patience with an abundance of albums released in 2020. During the earliest days of the pandemic, Welch and her partner, David Rawlings, stayed in and recorded songs from a collection of old songbooks. (The result, All the Good Times, received a Grammy nomination for Best Folk Album last week.) And after literally rescuing an archive of tapes and instruments from a tornado in March — one that blew the roof off their East Nashville studio — the pair set to work on another major undertaking.

This time, the result is even more bountiful: Three albums, encompassing 48 rarely-heard songs written and recorded in 2002 to fulfill a publishing deal. Only a few compositions have seen the light of day, namely the recordings of Alison Krauss & Union Station’s “Wouldn’t Be So Bad,” Solomon Burke’s “Valley of Tears,” and I’m With Her’s “Hundred Miles.” The engaging, one-take performances remained tucked away until this year, but they’ll be compiled into a three-disc box set titled Boots No. 2: The Lost Songs in December, packaged with a book of photography and a songbook of their own. These unearthed tracks were recorded in between 2001’s Time (The Revelator) and 2003’s Soul Journey; meanwhile, Boots No. 1 was an equally satisfying 2016 collection of outtakes from her 1996 debut album, Revival.

BGS caught up with Gillian Welch by phone.

BGS: Prior to preparing these releases, how often did you revisit these recordings?

Welch: Not really, let’s see. They’re pushing 20 years old – they’re 18 years old. I’d say… twice? So, close to once a decade? What would happen is, somebody or an artist that we knew would come to us, asking if we had any songs nobody had heard. Did we have any unreleased songs? One time, Buddy Miller called us up, and I love Buddy. He’s a friend. And he said, “You guys don’t have any country R&B songs, do you?” And I said, “Funnily enough, we’ve got a couple of these that we just didn’t know what to do with.” And he said, “Well, I’m making a record on Solomon Burke!” So, that’s how Solomon came to record “Valley of Tears.”

And same, Alison Krauss heard “Wouldn’t Be So Bad” the day I turned in all these songs to the publishing company. My manager hadn’t even heard them, and my publisher was playing them for my manager, who also managed Alison. They weren’t even pitching her “Wouldn’t Be So Bad.” She was in there to listen to other people’s songs and she heard it through the wall, is what I heard, and came in and said, “What’s that one? It’s awful, that’s just pitiful, I want that one!” [Laughs] So, that’s pretty much how it went. And same thing with I’m With Her. They were looking for some tunes. But truly, man, that’s about it.

How were these recordings made? Did you record them originally on reel-to-reel?

Yeah, they’re on quarter-inch reel-to-reel. They were recorded on a portable Nagra. The old field recordings, when they would take tape machines out to people’s farms and record folk songs and whatnot, these were often the machines they were hauling around. They run on batteries. Just lovely tape machines. So, we had a Nagra at the house and I was singing into a SM57 duct-taped to a guitar stand. [Laughs] My guitar and vocal are going into one microphone. It was very, very minimal, because we didn’t think we were making records, honestly. We weren’t. That’s one of the things that sets this collection apart from our records, is these weren’t records! None of that self-awareness, or self-consciousness, was present. These songs were written in a marathon long weekend and each song was recorded a minute after it was done.

David Rawlings and Gillian Welch by Henry Diltz

All 48 songs were written in a weekend?!

Yes. The ideas, they had languished, unfinished, in writing notebooks. They’d been kicking around. It wasn’t like I had thought of all these things in a weekend. But, I had shortfall with my publishing deal. As we started putting out records and we started touring… I don’t write on the road. So I fell behind. It was like I was never going to be done with it. My life had changed so much, that particular deal had kind of run its course. I didn’t know what to do.

Dave was the one who had the courageous and crazy idea. He was like, “What if we just turn in all the songs?” I sort of laughed, like, “Really? 48 songs?” [Laughs] He was like, “Yeah,” and he started pulling out the old notebooks. I write in spiral-bound, college-ruled notebooks, and there were just stacks of them around. He started pulling them out and we would look for a song that had just never gotten finished.

And he said, “Whatever the song needs, to make it a song, here we go. Right now.” We’re going to do it. He would put this sheet in front of me, and I would try and finish it, and he would go try to find another. And as soon as he came back in, I was supposed to have finished the one he had handed me previously. Then we would turn the tape machine and sing it once, and then that was that. Then we would finish another one. So, yeah, all of these recordings are first vocal takes of me. And I hear it. There’s an off-the-cuff-ness.

As you were recording these songs, were you in chairs facing each other?

I was on the couch! [Laughs] It’s a funny thing, releasing these into the world. It’s strange timing, to have rescued them from a tornado, and to be confronted with them again after all these years. And to literally think, “Why are we saving these?” It was really shocking. You keep things like this, maybe notebooks or photographs or tapes, and you think, “Well, maybe I’ll do something with them someday…” Here’s the sudden realization that they may not always be available to you. A tornado could come along and pulverize the entire thing.

Now, when you say you saved them from a tornado, that’s quite literal.

Oh yeah! That is completely literal. I picked them up in my arms and ran them through a collapsing building, so yes, it is completely literal! In the dark, in cascading water and debris. We physically saved every one of our masters, and every one of our guitars and microphones and gear. … I don’t want to go through that again. It’s the closest window I’ve had to what people go through in extreme duress and trauma. It was really something. That was how our year started out.

As I was looking through some of your press materials, I saw a photograph of you – and the photographer was you. Are you interested in photography? Is that something you’ve taken up?

Yeah, actually, that’s what my degree is in. I have a Bachelor of Arts in photography that I got and promptly made no use of. But I have it! Funny enough, now that we all walk around with cameras on our person, in the form of a phone, at all times, I take more photographs these days than I have since I was an undergrad, you know? I think you’re referring to this record of folk songs that Dave and I made during lockdown, and they said, “Well, we need a picture.” [Laughs] So I took a picture of myself and I took a picture of Dave threading tape on the tape machine that lives in our bookcase.

Gillian Welch by Gillian Welch

I’ve been reading about people who have started to play banjo during the pandemic, to cheer themselves up. Has that been the case for you?

I’ve heard that too! It’s so interesting to see how people are dealing with this, and apparently guitar sales and banjo sales are way up. It’s heartening. Who would have seen that coming? People are learning to play instruments, or returning to ones that have been in the closet for many years, and it’s really a wonderful reaction. We all find our own ways. And for Dave and I, it’s been pulling out all these old folk songs book, flipping them open to a page, and singing all these folk songs. Somehow, that’s been our reaction.

How old are the books?

They’re anywhere from a hundred years old, to fifty years old, forty years old… You know, I like these folk songbooks. I started singing folk songs when I was very young and I came at them not from records, but from this tradition of songbooks and being taught them by teachers and other people. It was not a recorded medium, at first, for me. Strangely, though it sounds incredibly old-timey, it was an oral tradition. …

So, we’re just returning to it. It’s the only thing that made sense to me in April and May of this year, was to sing these songs that touched upon other songs of great upheaval and tragedy and loss. And yet, people came through it, right? It doesn’t matter how dark or tragic the material is. The fact that the song exists tells me that people made it through. That’s part of the great power of folk music. And I use folk as a really, really big word, to cover almost everything! [Laughs] As someone once said, “Folk music is just music sung by folks.”

If I have my timing right, these recordings were made between the O Brother, Where Are Thou soundtrack and Soul Journey. Looking back on that time in your career, there must have been so much happening, and so many commitments you had to honor. Where do you draw strength from, when you start to feel overwhelmed?

Well, that’s an interesting question. When I really start to get overwhelmed, and it has definitely happened this year… It’s been such a challenge to remember who we are, in the face of being separated so much from what we normally do, you know? It’s hard to remember who we are! And I found myself really, in my most dislocated moments, putting on the records that I love. And honestly, this is going to sound kind of crazy, but I’ve heard it from other people, too, who have been putting on our music. Almost to fill the social gaps, to have another person inhabit your home, right? And I did that also. Because I’ve seen no one but Dave, really, and I found myself putting on records and almost communing with them like friends.

I see that there’s a box set coming on vinyl and CD, and there’s a songbook, and a lot of photos. It seems like all of your passions are channeled into one big project.

You know, it was really fun to make that book, that photo-music-lyric book that is a companion to the box set. I’ve never made a book before and it was a really interesting intersection of everything I’ve ever done, with all the photography. I’d say it’s about half [composed of] found photographs, and some photographs of mine, and some photographs of Dave. As it turned out, I realized doing this, there aren’t that many pictures of Dave and I from back then. We didn’t just always have a camera. There are so many pictures to document more current times, but we did find some.

When you listen now to this collection of songs, what kinds of emotions does it bring out in you?

When I listen to them, I think about the craft of songwriting. I think that there’s almost a humbleness to them. There’s not very much ego in them, because I wasn’t writing them to be “recorded by the recording artist Gillian Welch.” I was just trying to have them be songs, and we were so focused on their song-ness. And now 20 years later, I like that about them. We just put things that we were thinking about, and things that we were seeing.

Like in “Back Turn and Swing,” Dave is from New England, and every summer up there, you can’t sit down to a meal where there’s corn on the cob without a protracted discussion about past years’ corn, and how this corn rates against the other years’ corn. It’s funny, it’s hilarious! You just talk about different years of corn! So, I like that that made it in. I like it when these little things that we notice as we go through the world make it into the songs, and this collection has a lot of that. There are a lot of little moments in there.

I’m glad it exists, and it wouldn’t have existed — all of these things would have stayed in the notebook — if it weren’t for having to satisfy my publishing deal! So, I certainly had no hard feelings about any of it. It’s amazing that we did this, and given the timing of everything, I can’t believe in the year of 2020, with all this upheaval and pain and loss and isolation, that we had all of these songs sitting in a box, to say to people, “Here you go.” We rescued them. They are lost no more.

Photo credit (lead): David Rawlings; Photo credit (pair): Henry Diltz; Photo credit (middle): Gillian Welch

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

Posted on by Editor

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Stirring stuff up is the way we make progress.

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

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

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

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

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

Erin McAnally is a regular contributor to The Bluegrass Situation

Photo Credit: Jeff Fasano