Tag: Iowa

Lend an Ear to
Hailey Whitters

Posted on by Editor

Fueled by a strong Midwestern work ethic, Hailey Whitters played the long game to earn her well-deserved spot in country music. From the time she moved to Nashville from Iowa in 2007, Whitters immersed herself in the city’s songwriting community while chipping away at her dream of being a recording artist.

It took about a decade, but her own songs found their way to Alan Jackson, Little Big Town, and Martina McBride, and she earned a GRAMMY nomination for Song of the Year as a co-writer on Alicia Keys and Brandi Carlile’s “A Beautiful Noise.” But her true breakthrough arrived in 2022 and 2023, when her platinum single “Everything She Ain’t” charmed small-town fans and country radio programmers alike.

After “Everything She Ain’t” eased off the charts, Whitters forged ahead on the road and returned to the studio to create Corn Queen, her first new album in three years. In a call with Good Country, Whitters chatted about working with Molly Tuttle on “Prodigal Daughter,” the influence of the Chicks, and how a childhood diary set the foundation for her as a songwriter.

Corn Queen kicks off with a song called “High on the Hog.” which seems like it’s based on a true story. What was on your mind as you were writing that?

Good lord. I mean, it feels pretty literal to me. I was in the middle of just burnout, probably. I was thick in heavy, heavy touring, sometimes being in the airport three times a day. I was watching my [follow-up] single at country radio fail miserably. It was such a whirlwind, but I remember just taking a minute to be like, “What on earth is going on here?” and having a moment of clarity. I’ve been in Nashville for 17 years now, and I’ve been on the road for over a decade. I got my first bus last year. It was this funny juxtaposition where everyone was thinking that I’d made it. I’d had this big single, and my whole family thought I was so famous! But if you saw that I slept on an airport floor last night and got ready in a gas station bathroom, you would be shocked by what is behind this curtain. I wanted to show that with this song. Outsiders might think this business and this job are really romantic. And I think it’s a grand illusion!

There’s a silver lining in that song, I think. Do you consider yourself an optimistic person?

I always say I’m a negligent optimist. I’m optimistic to a fault! I’ve really had to put on some reality glasses the last few years because I will always choose “glass half full.” I’m always going to look for the brighter side of things. But yeah, I got some good kicks in the rear end the last few years, and that shook me up a little bit. So wait, what’s the silver lining, though? I’m curious, the “high on the hog” line?

Yeah, I took it as, “Hey, despite everything, I’m still out here doing this thing.”

And that’s true, too. In the bigger picture, when I’m not pulling graveyard shifts in driving the van and breaking down and having my audio engineer leave at the border in Canada and getting thrown to the wind before opening for Tyler Childers… I think it’s a silver lining. It’s also a little like sarcasm. Like, I know I’m not supposed to complain, but I’m high on the hog out here! But ultimately, there’s been some really great moments and some really cool things that I’ve dreamt about my whole life. So, at the end of the day, this gig ain’t that bad.

Molly Tuttle is on this record, too, on “Prodigal Daughter.” How did you cross paths with her?

I think one of the first times we ever met each other, I want to say we were both singing at a Tim McGraw tribute show. I may have made that up, but we were both on the bill, and it was Basement East. I remember meeting her backstage and hearing her, and she’s phenomenal! She’s absolutely incredible. And we got set up to write during the pandemic. It was me, her and Lori McKenna, and we wrote maybe two or three songs. And I really, really loved it.

I listened to her and I listened to Billy Strings a ton during the pandemic. I always thought it would be cool to do something with her someday. She’s just an insane talent. Then I wrote this song, “Prodigal Daughter,” and it felt like more of a bluegrass, rootsy kind of vibe. And I thought, “I would love for Molly to do some picking and sing on this one.” And yeah, she played clawhammer! We went over to my engineer’s studio and it was freaking insane. She just blows my mind.

At what point did you become a bluegrass fan?

I think I always liked bluegrass. Bluegrass fans might think this is crazy, but probably my gateway drug was when the Chicks made the Home album, which was more of a bluegrass record. Then that turned me on to Alison Krauss & Union Station, and the early stuff from Ricky Skaggs and Keith Whitley. I have so much respect for that music. They’re so talented and I’m in complete awe. I feel like they come out as babies with an instrument in their hand and just know it up and down. To be so dedicated and devoted to your instrument like that, it really blows my mind.

Home was a landmark record for me, too. Living in Nashville this long, I think about that song “Heartbreak Town,” and how that really shows the way the music industry is here.

So good! [Written by] Darrell Scott, another great musician. And that record was the first time I got turned on to Patty Griffin, too, because of “Top of the World” and “Truth #2.” I grew up in a cornfield in the Midwest. There was no musical influence around me. My family is super blue-collar. Everyone’s digging dirt, or farming, and women are raising babies. The only musical influence I had was what I was hearing on the radio. I was a big country radio kid, and I remember when the Chicks put out that record. That’s the first time I thought, “I need to scratch the surface and dig a little deeper into some of these influences.”

If there’s one song from Home that you think somebody has to hear, which one would you pick?

If you’re wanting to be a songwriter or an artist in country music, I would probably say “Travelin’ Soldier.” That song is so well-written. Anyone can hear that and feel something. Bruce Robison wrote that song. There’s a certain magic to a songwriter who can sit down and write a song by himself. If you want to go deep, “Top of the World.” Even when I was a senior in high school, I was so blown away by that song. It really makes you reflect and think about your life. I remember seeing a Patty Griffin show at the Ryman a few years back, and I just sobbed in the pew to that song! It was a spiritual experience for me.

How did you pick up guitar? How did you learn how to play?

It’s funny, I got a diary one Christmas in 1994. I would have been five years old, barely knew how to write at that point, and I kept a diary. So I always wrote, for my whole life. In elementary school, my guidance counselor asked me what I wanted to do when I grow up. I was like, “I want to sing country music.” And he asked me, “Well, who are some of your favorite artists?” And I said, “The Chicks.” And he was like, “You know they write their own music, right?” And I said, “No! How do you do that?” And he told me, “You’ve got to get a guitar, you’ve got to learn some chords, and you’ve got to write some songs.” So that was when I started doing all that.

How did you make friends when you got to Nashville?

Actually I’m just leaving a breakfast with three of the first people I ever met in Nashville. We met back in 2007, and still to this day, they’re some of my closest friends. When I moved here, I went to Belmont University, and I met them there. We were all Miranda Lambert fans, and she was playing a show, so we all were talking about going to the show. We just always loved country music together. Especially when we first moved to town, we were so completely enamored by Nashville and the songwriting scene. Back when Nashville had showcases, we would go to three showcases a night. It was like, get out of class, get in my friend Lauren’s car, and go hit shows all night long.

On this record, I especially enjoyed “Hearsay.” It’s a love song, it’s funny, it’s got attitude, and a great hook, of course. Are there any moments or memories that stand out for you as that song was taking shape?

That song is about the Black Squirrel in my hometown, which is this little townie bar that’s been around forever. I remember going to see bands there, and they literally had chicken wire up to protect the bands. It’s that bar where you walk in with somebody that you’re not supposed to be with, and the whole town is going to be talking about it, and everyone’s going to know within an hour.

The song “DanceMor” is inspired by a place in your hometown, too, right?

DanceMor is the dance hall across the street from the Black Squirrel. It’s been around since the 1930s. My dad grew up going into it, my aunts and uncles, generations grew up throwing their boots on to go out line dancing and listening to country music. I always thought it was so cool. It closed for a minute when I was in high school, when it was undergoing different ownership, but I’d always wanted to go back and play it. It’s literally an eight-minute drive from my parents’ house. Everyone packs it out. We drank them out of beer last time. And everyone actually went across the street and started buying buckets and came back across the street and kept drinking. It’s such a sweet spot. I’m a big fan of old shit and protecting it and keeping it alive. There’s energy in those kinds of places that you can’t get in a new, polished venue. It’s kind of our little love song to the old dance floor ballroom.

I loved to hear the Wilder Blue singing on there. What did those guys add to the feel of that track?

I think they made the track. It needed those stacked harmonies, and they bring so much texture to all the different vocals and whatnot. They seemed to be a great fit for that. I met them on the Luke Combs tour last year, and they were so fun, and felt like brothers on the road. I listened to the record they did with Brent Cobb and I thought it was phenomenal. Then we got to tour together and play stadiums last year, and me and them, we’re at the bottom of the bill! We always went on early, then we went out in the parking lot and set up cornhole and made pickle margaritas and drank tequila and smoked cigs and played cornhole all night. I just hit it off with those guys.

There’s a message of encouragement in that song, too. You must have met a lot of little girls who look up to you. What do you like about having young fans?

It’s really cute. I mean, I used to be that girl. I remember getting on my dad’s shoulders in a cowboy hat and cowboy boots, reaching out and touching Ronnie Dunn’s hand when he’s on stage. I blame those early country concerts, because those were the moments where it felt larger than life, and you’re like, “I want to do that one day.” That’s really special to see girls like that holding up posters, or with the cowboy boots on, or wanting to get up and sing “Everything She Ain’t” with me. I egg it on. I think it’s great! And they can blame me when they’re twenty years into a ten-year town one day!

Lead Image: Harper Smith

Roots Music Festival Hires New Director of Diversity

Posted on by Justin Hiltner

DAVENPORT, IOWA – The Quad Cities Roots Festival announced today that it has hired its first-ever Director of Diversity, 55-year-old Karen Van der Sloot.

“I’m absolutely over the moon,” Van der Sloot said, stirring a pot of her famous chili in her suburban kitchen. “Diversity needs a facelift. Because every face is beautiful, especially when it’s smiling!”

While many DEI programs across the country have seen funding cut or been permanently shuttered, the Quad Cities Roots Music Festival is doubling down on its commitment to diversity with this groundbreaking hire.

“Karen is someone who makes everyone feel included. Even people who were already included feel more included because of Karen’s relentless inclusivity,” said a festival spokesperson.

Despite having no background in roots music or diversity initiatives, Van der Sloot believes her experience as a mother of four will offer a fresh perspective to a festival often criticized for its homogeneity.

“Listen, if you’ve ever tried to get a teenager to put down their phone and eat the same thing as the rest of the family, you know that’s the real diversity work,” she smiled. “I always say, ‘We tried democracy, but I’m not gonna make a whole new meal for one person who suddenly says they’re vegan. Mama bear don’t play that game!’”

Her vision for diversity in roots music? “Instead of diversity, I’ve been saying we need melange-ity – a little mix of everything. Like a good chili. Melange-ity means more than just one flavor. We need the full ‘thang’ – beans, hamburger, chili powder, maybe even a little corn if you’re feeling wild!”

For Van der Sloot, that even means getting a mix of ideas, like soliciting programming feedback from her assistant, Dr. Akilah Jessup-Moore. “Did you know she has a doctorate in ethnomusicology from Duke? Such a smart cookie.” Moore could not be reached for comment.

Festival Executive Director – and Karen’s husband – Kevin Van der Sloot also chimed in. “Karen’s been a real trooper. She’s thrown herself into this role 100%. Plus, I think she needed something to do after our oldest left for college.”

Though music acts are still being confirmed, festival headliners will include the Bettendorf Boys Choir, pop-reggae group UB40, and local favorites The Muddy Walters, a blues band comprised entirely of retired dentists.

Greg Hess is a comedy writer and performer in Los Angeles. His work has been featured in The American Bystander, The Onion, Shouts & Murmurs, Points in Case, and he cohosts the hit satirical podcast MEGA.

Archiving the Heart: Greg Brown on Music, Family, and Throwing Out Old Notebooks

Posted on by Shelby Williamson

Iowa folk music icon Greg Brown is living that retired life. After playing his farewell retirement concert in 2023, he’s returned with a new book: Ring Around The Moon: A Songbook, which highlights a song selection personally picked by the songwriter himself, as well as family photos, personal anecdotes and self-penned drawings. The book features a foreword by Seth Avett (The Avett Brothers) who calls Brown’s songs “plain ​spoken ​expression ​of ​the ​nearly ​inexpressible.” In our conversation, we touch on topics like inner peace, happiness, personal growth and self-acceptance.

LISTEN: APPLE • SPOTIFY • AMAZON • MP3

He speaks of how art has impacted him in ways the artist will never understand. He talks about what it’s like to be on both the receiving and sending end of this exchange. It especially impacted him when he learned the poet Allen Ginsberg listened to an album of his while he was dying. I asked him about his music archives, which he calls “a ​bunch ​of ​old ​notebooks ​on ​a ​shelf” and “a ​couple ​boxes ​of ​old ​photos,” which assisted him in recalling family connections for the songbook. Going through the photos and old songs instilled a sense of music nostalgia, including collaboration with Iowa musicians at the Wednesday Night Jam at The Mill. Music nostalgia surfaces several times through the pages like his incredible story of founding the successful and beloved Red House Records.

There’s also discussion on a few choice Greg Brown songs like “If You Don’t Get it at Home,” addressing replacing love for materialism and drug use. We talk about “Brand New ’64 Dodge,” chronicling Brown’s personal experience with JFK’s assassination in 1963 and “Two Little Feet,” written in Alaska where he was inspired by Native American myths he heard and felt in the area. Greg Brown’s songbook was an awesome trip down memory lane for some of the best folk songs ever written from one very serious, yet very silly songwriter. It was an honor to dig in with one of the best to do it!

Photo Credit: Mei-Ling Shaw

WATCH: Cristina Vane, “Prayer For the Blind”

Posted on by Editor

Artist: Cristina Vane
Hometown: Turin, Italy
Song: “Prayer For the Blind”
Album: Nowhere Sounds Lovely
Release Date: April 2, 2021

In Their Words: “‘Prayer For the Blind’ is inspired by a friendly couple I met while camping on the border of Nebraska and Iowa. She told me her mother suffered from dementia, but that it couldn’t help but make her laugh when her mother claimed that her husband was cheating on her, going dancing with a woman with two peg legs, and that she was going to wring her neck. The anecdote got me thinking about how we try and find levity in heavy situations, and also about the bond between mothers and daughters and the intergenerational burdens that can be passed along through them. I wanted to find a tone that matched the difficult nature of these questions, and the lonesome modal banjo seemed perfect for that, paired with Nate Leath’s great fiddling. The issues of motherhood and illness are no new phenomenon, so I thought old time sounds fit the theme well — you can’t beat a fiddle and banjo!” — Cristina Vane

Photo credit: Oceana Colgan
Video credit: Jeremy Harris

WATCH: David Huckfelt, “Hidden Made Known”

Posted on by Editor

Artist: David Huckfelt
Hometown: Spencer, Iowa
Song: “Hidden Made Known”
Album: Room Enough, Time Enough
Release Date: February 26, 2021
Label: Gambler’s Dharma Records/Fluff & Gray Records

In Their Words: “‘Hidden Made Known’ is about having faith in the basic intelligence of the universe, and what to do next when you lose it. From Wounded Knee to Sault Ste. Marie, tenderness is on the run, ‘Here be monsters’ all over your Google maps, even your sure things fall through. Meanwhile, sparks of the dharma shoot out from little children, lakes and rivers all day long, saying ‘Be gentle.’ Don’t see many of these long-form poem-songs these days, we don’t seem to have the attention for them — but every line felt like it could be another song. Walk out of doors, slip through a crack in the live stream feed, find a glitch in the system and mine it until things feel wild again.” — David Huckfelt

Photo credit: Charlie Stout

LISTEN: Susan Werner, “To Be There”

Posted on by Editor

Artist: Susan Werner
Hometown: Philadelphia, Pennsylvania
Song: “To Be There”
Album: Flyover Country
Release Date: September 27, 2020

In Their Words: “In the early months of this year I’d been writing a ‘country’ album, and when the pandemic hit I thought, ‘Well, we aren’t the first generation to face something like this, somebody must have written a plenty good song already.’ I went through the Carter Family and Louvin Brothers and Hazel Dickens catalogs and couldn’t find anything about a flu; black lung yes, influenza no. Having written a ‘gospel’ album in 2007, I remembered that one element of the best gospel music is hope, the anticipation of something better, whether on Earth or in Heaven. And in this moment, everybody on Earth is united in hope, hope that we arrive safely on the other side of this dark time to see and embrace our friends and family, to hold them close, and for the musically inclined among us, to stand shoulder to shoulder with them and hear them singing on either side of us. That was always Heaven itself to me; I don’t know that until this year I realized it.

“I grew up in a kind of magically musical singing family; my farming parents and all six kids, we’d spontaneously harmonize in the car on the way to church, to my grandparents’ farms for holidays. We had no idea other families did not do this, by the way. I was home in Iowa this February (yes, for the caucuses) and went with my folks to church — I’m an agnostic, honestly, I just go to see friends and family and to sing with them. To my left I heard my father, to my right, my mother. Who knew that something could arise that would take that, singing, away from us? Unthinkable. So I had to weave that into the lyrics of this ‘hymn.’ Heaven might have singing angels, but I know for a fact Earth does and I can’t wait to get back in the company of others in church or on stage or in the bar, it’s all good and it’s all the work of God.” — Susan Werner

 

On ‘I’m With You,’ William Elliott Whitmore Puts Family Wisdom to Use

Posted on by Editor

Over the last few years, William Elliott Whitmore has been thinking a lot about how we – as individuals and as a society – have a tendency to repeat our mistakes, and how we’re always trying not to. Yet the tone of his new album, I’m With You, is still infused with optimism, which often stems from the wisdom he’s learned from his family.

I’m With You is Whitmore’s first album of new material in five years, though its material wouldn’t sound out of place alongside his early songs like “Old Devils” or “Don’t Need It.” As always, his banjo and guitar are central to the album’s sound, while his raspy singing voice remains an effective tool at getting his point across.

Though the album does have some heavy themes, Whitmore often points out the silver lining in a situation, and moreover, he’s comfortable chatting up a stranger — a trait not uncommon to the Midwest. He spoke with BGS by phone from his farm in Lee County, Iowa, where he’s quarantining with his wife and their six-month-old baby.

BGS: There are several family relationships that you reference in the album’s first song, “Put It to Use,” and you’ve had family members as characters in your songs for a long time. Why is that bond with your family so inspiring?

Whitmore: Yeah, the bond with my family has always been inspiring. I’m pretty lucky in that I’ve got a big family that’s close by. Aunts and uncles and cousins. My folks were great people, full of wisdom and just caring, beautiful people, but through different circumstances they passed away when I was in my teens. So, that’s when I started writing songs, and in fact, that’s what made me start doing that — to codify what they had always been teaching me. And as a way to deal with it and not just go off the deep end. They pop up in songs a lot, and have since the beginning.

I don’t have them here, so I just think about their words of wisdom and lessons. I think we all get those lessons from someone, whether it’s your folks and a grandparent or a neighbor or a cool uncle or aunt. That cool person down the block that introduced you to The Ramones when you were a kid. [Laughs] It’s like, “Hey, check out Black Sabbath!” So you go, “I should listen up.” Not just music, but lessons, and we can gather that from anywhere. “Put It to Use” is about, OK, you’ve gathered all this good information. Now, put it to use. And more than just music — let’s try to love each other.

Was it someone in your family that introduced you to banjo?

Yeah, both of my grandpas played the banjo. One of them passed away when I was one year old, so I never knew him, but I actually have his old banjo. And one died when I was in my teens, and he was a banjo picker from the Ozark Mountains down in Missouri. My folks loved country music. My mom loved Willie Nelson and Charley Pride – those were her favorites. And in fact, my parents’ first date was a Charley Pride show at a county fair.

But [my interest in] the old-time stuff, Appalachia music and Ozark mountain music, came from my grandpa, and he played the banjo. When he passed away, I got his banjo because I was into playing guitar. I was like, “Oh, the banjo… it’s not THAT different than a guitar.” And I inherited all of his old records. He loved Roy Acuff and the Stanley Brothers. Again, it’s getting that influence from wherever you can.

Were those records your gateway to bluegrass? How did you become aware of bluegrass?

Yeah, those records. … He had a lot of compilations with 15 different artists on one record. You’d find out about a bunch of different stuff, like how Bill Monroe pretty much invented bluegrass by playing old-time music faster than everybody else. [Laughs] And the subtle differences between that and the old-time, slower stuff. A lot of it does have to do with tempo. The feeling is there for all of it, but Bill Monroe kicked it into that next gear.

It’s this whole rich history that’s really cool, and there’s still a lot to learn about, too. So I took that bluegrass influence, but I also liked Minor Threat and Bad Religion and Public Enemy, growing up in the ‘80s and ‘90s. There’s a theme running through all of this — punk and country and bluegrass and blues. Using simple tools to convey a message. No matter where you come from or what color you are, there’s a way to do this.

One thing you do well on this record, in my opinion, is setting the scene. While a lot of songwriters write primarily about themselves, or about love, you are writing about what’s around you. When did you become interested in environmentalism, for example?

That’s a great compliment, first of all. I’m right here on the farm I grew up on, and I’m very lucky to have that. So, the woods and nature and planting gardens — my folks were both naturalists. They wouldn’t have had the word for that, but they loved the land and they appreciated nature. That was passed on to us kids, the appreciation for the trees and the plants and the deer out in the field, and how we live among them and we’re part of it. We’re not above them. The grass in the meadow, the flora and the fauna that we see all around us, we’re just a part of that.

So it just doesn’t make sense to me, as an adult, why anyone would want to pour oil in the water, or level a whole forest, and cut every old-growth oak tree in the forest, just for the money! You want to live in harmony with nature, and sometimes you do have to cut a tree, but you want to be selective and do it in a smart way. … There are so many ways to do it mindfully. That’s my slant on it, and it all comes from living in the woods and living on a farm, and being instilled with those things at an early age.

Listening to your older records, I was struck by how much your singing voice has become more commanding. Did that come from you having to sing on stage, and use it as an instrument? At what point did you sense that your voice was becoming stronger?

That’s another great compliment. I didn’t even know if it was, but you know, it’s funny how things change over 20 years. I first started touring — gosh, it’s been over 20 years ago now. I used to smoke a lot of cigarettes and a lot of weed. … Well, maybe don’t write down “weed.” Oh, whatever, I don’t care. I just had a fucked up voice, but it was all I had. I was like, I wish I could croon like Dean Martin and Morrissey or Ralph Stanley, and have a beautiful voice, and I could never quite get there. So you just work with what you got, right?

So, I quit the cigarettes – and only the cigarettes. [Laughs] My voice changed after that, maybe, but it did come with playing a couple hundred shows a year, for years, and just being on stage, at least in the beginning, where they didn’t know who you are. It’s hard to be a presence when you’re by yourself. I was doing a lot of punk clubs and DIY spaces and bars, where they might not even care that you’re there. So you do have to make your presence known. I had to be more commanding. I am a loudmouth anyway, so it was natural. Put a microphone in front of me and I’ll make you listen! [Laughs] “I’m gonna start singing and you’re gonna wanna listen!” was my attitude, which is funny now.

But that did help me use it as almost a cudgel. Over the years, I’ve tried to sharpen that and make it more of a surgical thing and not a blunt instrument. [Laughs] I mean, I’m only dealing with guitar, banjo, and voice, and a beat — a kick drum now. Each one of them has to count. Any would singer would tell you, you take the time to write these lyrics, and in a live setting they just get lost. You’re just hollering. You have to learn to cut through. … Now it’s a bad habit to break because I’ll be singing in a quiet place, where everyone’s sitting down and listening and no one’s talking, and I’m just yelling like someone needs to hear me ten miles away. It’s those years of screaming over a bar room. I can’t shut it off.

Photo credit: Chris Casella