Brent Cobb Follows the Inspiration of His ‘Southern Star’

Over his entire Grammy-nominated career, Brent Cobb has made no secret of being guided by a “Southern Star” – a rootsy creative beacon shining high above and seeming to point straight down on his South Georgia home.

A native of the Peach state, Cobb has staked a claim on the organic side of country, with acclaimed projects like Shine On a Rainy Day, Providence Canyon, and even the 2022 gospel set, And Now, Let’s Turn to Page…. Each one paints a loving portrait of Southern life, looking far beyond the cliches for inspiration. But with his new album Southern Star, those pictures are more vivid (and more Southern) than ever.

Finding easy-going wisdom and big-picture beauty in the simple minutiae of everyday life, Southern Star is engrossed in all things Georgia. Ten tender tracks were recorded in Macon, using Georgian musicians and embracing the sonic history of the region. That means a warm, humid mix of back-porch country and rural R&B, with funky (but feather soft) bass lines and a casual vocal drawl, as Cobb invites listeners in to his personal world – a world full of unexpected contrasts, and undeniable human wonder.

Speaking with BGS from that South Georgia home on a sunny fall day – perhaps the last one of the lawn-mowing season, he says – the humble and homegrown singer-songwriter explains what makes his Southern Star shine so bright.

Every artist or songwriter goes through phases of how they think about their role. What’s important to you these days?

Brent Cobb: It really hasn’t changed a whole lot. I know that doesn’t sound good, but I always try to still focus on my roots of where I’m from, and I try to still be universally personal, personally universal. … I think there’s something so poetic about specifically the American South and rural life, but also something that if you do it right, anybody anywhere can relate to it. So that’s really what I try to do. I try to make music that my kids can enjoy and that my grandma could enjoy, and everybody in between.

Tell me a little bit about Southern Star, the imagery of that title, specifically. I mean, is this kind of a play on the idea of a North Star guiding you?

Partly, yeah. You always learn growing up, if you get lost out there, you look for the Northern Star, it’ll guide you and give you direction. But I’m from South Georgia, so I look for the Southern Star. [Laughs]  … So partly that. Then there was also my buddy ‘Rowdy’ Jason Cope, who was the founding member of The Steel Woods and played electric guitar for Jamey Johnson from 2008 until 2014 or so. He’s no longer with us [Cope passed away at age 42 in 2021, after suffering “severe complications from diabetes”]. But during those days he lived about 45 minutes outside Nashville, and I’d go down there to his place and we’d go to this little bar and it was a pretty seedy little spot where we’d hang out, it was called the Southern Star.

Plus, I often thought about my buddy as someone who sort of behind the scenes had a lot of influence on a lot of people, but they may not even be aware of it. He never got to be a superstar, but if nothing else he was a Southern star. And I feel that same way about myself sometimes. So there are a couple different meanings behind it. … I miss him every day.

The other part of this album is what seems like a love letter to Georgia – and maybe just the whole region. It can be easy to misunderstand the Southern people and the area, and you’ve called it kind of a melting pot, right? What’s so inspiring to you about Georgia?

I think it’s because, well, first of all the American South as a whole, there would be no music as we know it if not for the American South. And that comes with its blessings and the curses, and it wouldn’t be the same place without those things also. Specifically Macon is the home of Otis Redding and Little Richard, and then you have Ray Charles from right down the road, and then right up the road you got James Brown, and then of course the Allman Brothers. There’s so many endless artists that have influenced the whole world.

But then even just as day-to-day life, where I’m from, every school I went to, we’re all mixed in together down here. We’re living and praying and learning and working all together. It’s easy to be on the outside and look in, and go, ‘Man, the South, what a terrible place.’ And there are some terrible things that still happen to this day, and historically that are terrible, but for the most part we’re all living and working and eating and breathing together. You don’t hear about that side of the South so much. But I think that’s why the music from here is so influencing and so profound – it isn’t just one way. And you got people that obviously have had to struggle and people who still struggle to this day, but that’s where the good shit comes from. That’s where the great art comes from, for better or worse.

I read that this was your first self-produced record. Did it have a different vibe working that way, or did the sound come out any different?

Luckily I was able to use a couple of my friends as guinea pigs, so I got a little comfortable in the producer’s seat [on previous projects]. But more than anything I believe first of all, to make a great album, you need great songs, and then you can record them any way you want to record them. If it’s a great song, it’s a great song no matter what.

… I think the second most important part of making a great album is the drums and percussion. Once you have those two things, you can really leave it at that and it’s going to be great. Folks can sing along and might want to dance a little bit. You’re going to be fine.

Then you need a little funky bass part. And, being from that area of the music I heard my whole life – soul music and gospel music, it all has keys. So I knew I had to have some keys and organ on there. I don’t know that it was much different [from other records], except for this time I had nearly 20 years of experience.

“It’s a Start” is such an interesting track. On the surface, it’s just about simple things. But it seems to kind of point at a bigger truth, right? Where’d that come from?

Well, I appreciate you noticing that, because it’s with intent. I try to do that with most all of my songs – like I said earlier, to make something personal, make it universal. What is the core of that emotion or that experience? And vice versa, universally personal. That song particularly, I wanted to throw everybody off and not give that song a double meaning.

Really, why’s that?

I feel like sometimes I’m stuck in between two worlds. Sometimes I feel like people only think ‘Oh, there’s Brent writing another album about Georgia.’ And then I feel like some people go, ‘What is the deeper meaning here?’ Most of the time there is one for me, but that song is really about nothing and intentionally, it’s about exactly what it says.

People can get real meta about certain songwriters, but I just think that’s a mark of a really good artist.

Yeah I’m not ever complaining as long as anybody’s listening for any reason. I do think it’s funny though. Sometimes I feel like other songwriters may get the benefit of the doubt, like it’ll be a really on-the-nose double meaning, just real obvious that, “Oh, okay, you meant to give it this undercurrent.” Then other songwriters, sometimes I feel like including myself, they do not get that benefit. They only get the doubt. [Laughs]

Call me a simple man – I am. There should always be a little something extra in there if someone’s looking for it. But I also think a songwriter should do their best to craft it so that it can be enjoyed at face value.

“Shade Tree” seems like a fitting way to end things, then. It wraps the record up with a peaceful, soothing scene. Where did that come from?

Well, my sister and I had started that song two years probably before I even knew that I was going to make an album. My sister is such a wonderful singer and she’s got a lot of soul in her voice, but like me, she has a kid. It’s hard to just sit down and write a song together. Well, then I get studio time booked and I wanted to finish that song because I thought it really defined Southern Star as a way of life in the South – there was a pecan tree in my grandma’s backyard, so after church and after Sunday dinner, the whole family would hang out under it in the shade tree. A lot of things happened [under that tree] …

The day before going in the studio, I went over to my sister’s house and I had dropped my kids off at school, and we drank some coffee on her back porch amongst some pine trees. Then my wife, she threw in some lines and it became a family affair. And yeah, it seemed fitting.

The whole thing seems like it has so much personal meaning. What do you hope people take away from this one?

More than anything I always hope, like I’ve said, that it’s universally personal. I hope that anybody will be able to take away from it whatever they feel. And if nothing else, I hope they can just enjoy it in the background.


Photo Credit: Jace Kartye

Ronnie Milsap’s Final Nashville Show Displays His Broad Musical Impact

The career of singer-songwriter Ronnie Milsap has been remarkably inclusive from an idiomatic standpoint, even if it’s also accurate to say his greatest acclaim has come within country circles. But over the course of five plus decades in the performing and recording arena, Milsap has also toured with James Brown and Ray Charles, been a pianist for JJ Cale, had R&B hits – with songs penned by Ashford & Simpson or previously recorded by Chuck Jackson – cut successful gospel and adult contemporary songs and albums, and even worked the oldies circuit while covering ’50s classic rock and roll and doo-wop.

Still, it’s his poignant, soul-tinged country tunes that have made Ronnie Milsap so beloved, while earning him induction into the Country Music Hall of Fame and membership in the Grand Ole Opry. A two-time Country Music Association Male Vocalist of the Year, Milsap also helped induct longtime friend and mentor Charles (who once encouraged him to choose music over law school) into the Country Hall of Fame. During the ’70s and ’80s Milsap enjoyed a frequent presence on the country charts, and during the ’80s scored thirteen of his thirty-five number one hits. 

Even as times and tastes changed, Milsap adapted and continued to enjoy success through the ’90s and into the next millennium. Now, at 80, he recently decided it was time to call a halt to performing in Music City. Pausing a couple of weeks before his final Nashville show at Bridgestone Arena October 3, Milsap told BGS that there’s one idiom he loves that folks don’t often cite or acknowledge when discussing his influences.

“Man I love bluegrass too,” Milsap said. “Those harmonies, the melodies, that’s a sound that I’ve always enjoyed. Some people didn’t understand exactly where ‘Smoky Mountain Rain’ came from, but that’s the influence. Also gospel is a big influence and of course, I’ve always loved country and soul music. All of it I just absorbed and worked into my own style.”

That sound, an inspired blend of mellow tone and emphatic delivery has made the list of unforgettable Milsap tunes a lengthy one: “(There’s) No Gettin’ Over Me,” “Pure Love,” “Only One Love In My Live,” “(I’m A) Stand By My Woman Man,” or “Daydreams About Night Things,” to cite just five of his numerous hits. Milsap has managed the difficult task of being both sentimental and evocative, never letting his vocals become maudlin or exaggerated, and always credible and persuasive in his stories and testimonies.

Milsap’s also maintained a healthy interest in contemporary happenings and performers, as evidenced by his 2018 LP The Duets, which he called “one of my favorites.”

“Man I love that Kelly Clarkson,” he added. “She’s fantastic. Working with her was a thrill and I love how she sings. Ricky Skaggs, he’s one of the all-time greatest musicians I’ve ever seen and heard. He’s incredible. There are still so many good young singers out there and great musicians in Nashville. It’s a real pleasure to hear them, and I’m so happy about this show coming up. It’s such an honor.”

The last Milsap concert was billed as “The Final Nashville Show,” and a packed house filled Bridgestone Arena two weeks ago. Twenty-nine artists across the country spectrum performed 30 tunes to mark Milsap’s 50 years. The event was co-hosted by radio veterans Storme Warren (The Big 615) and Bill Cody (WSM), while such luminaries as Reba McEntire, Dolly Parton, Clint Black, and Luke Bryan whose schedules didn’t permit them to attend or participate sent videotaped tributes. In addition, prior to the show, new Nashville mayor Freddie O’Connell declared it “Ronnie Milsap Day,” and Tennessee governor Bill Lee added an official proclamation honoring Milsap’s “Final Nashville Show.”

Depending on personal perspective and taste, there were multiple highlights. One contemporary star who got maximum exposure and delivered a powerhouse performance was Scotty McCreery, whose version of “Pure Love” was a big audience winner, as was Randy Houser’s “Don’t You Ever Get Tired (of Hurting Me)” and Trace Adkins’ “She Keeps the Home Fires Burning.” 

Kelly Clarkson’s “It Was Almost Like a Song” was a show stopper, as powerful and dynamic as anything anyone did during the evening, and a rousing rebuttal to those who think her iconic daytime status protects another overrated celebrity. A pair of surprises were gospel vocalist/pianist Gordon Mote and contemporary Christian star Steven Curtis Chapman. Both took secular tunes and soared on them; Mote on “Lost In the Fifties Tonight (In the Still of the Night)” and Chapman on “What a Difference You’ve Made In My Life.”

Band of Heathen’s rendition of “Houston Solution” and Breland’s cover of “Any Day Now” got polite applause, while rousing songs performed by Sara Evans (“Let’s Take the Long Way Around the World,”), The McCrary Sisters (“Stand By Me,” and also appearing backing Clarkson), Terri Clark (“My Love”) and Lorrie Morgan (“I’d Be A Legend In My Time”) reaffirmed the appeal Milsap’s best tunes have had for both men and women vocalists. Elizabeth Cook’s “Nobody Likes Sad Songs” added another element, that of a fresh, lesser known but emerging artist enhancing her reputation with a strong and impressive performance.

Appropriately, the guest of honor closed the show, and while Milsap at 80 isn’t the singer he was in his prime, he remains an effective entertainer. His closing set began with “Smoky Mountain Rain,” and also included “America the Beautiful,” “Stranger In My House,” and “There’s No Getting Over Me.” The night ended with a stage full of the performers who’d previously paid homage to Milsap backing him on an engaging version of the Rolling Stones’ “Honky Tonk Woman.”

Throughout the evening, all the performers were superbly supported by the Nashville session band Sixwire, augmented by special guests like the great Country Music Hall of Famer Charlie McCoy and saxophonist/steel guitarist John Heinrich, a longtime Milsap band member. It was a memorable night, and a wonderful celebration of a premier American musical talent.


Photo courtesy of Gold Mountain Entertainment

Carolina Calling, Greensboro: the Crossroads of Carolina

Known as the Gate City, Greensboro, North Carolina is a transitional town: hub of the Piedmont between the mountain high country to the west and coastal Sandhill Plains to the east, and a city defined by the people who have come, gone, and passed through over the years. As a crossroads location, it has long been a way station for many endeavors, including touring musicians – from the likes of the Rolling Stones and Jimi Hendrix at the Greensboro Coliseum, the state’s largest indoor arena, to James Brown and Otis Redding at clubs like the El Rocco on the Chitlin’ Circuit. Throw in the country and string band influences from the textile mill towns in the area, and the regional style of the Piedmont blues, and you’ve got yourself quite the musical melting pot.

LISTEN: APPLE • SPOTIFY • STITCHERAMAZON • YOUTUBEMP3
 

This historical mixture was not lost on one of Greensboro’s own, Rhiannon Giddens – one of modern day Americana’s ultimate crossover artists. A child of black and white parents, she grew up in the area hearing folk and country music, participating in music programs in local public schools, and eventually going on to study opera at Oberlin Conservatory in Ohio. Once she returned to North Carolina and came under the study of fiddler Joe Thompson and the Black string band tradition, she began playing folk music and forged an artistic identity steeped in classical as well as vernacular music. In this episode of Carolina Calling, we spoke with Giddens about her background in Greensboro and how growing up mixed and immersed in various cultures, in a city so informed by its history of segregation and status as a key civil rights battleground, informed her artistic interests and endeavors, musical styles, and her mission in the music industry.

Subscribe to Carolina Calling on any and all podcast platforms to follow along as we journey across the Old North State, visiting towns like Durham, Wilmington, Shelby, and more.


Music featured in this episode:

Rhiannon Giddens – “Black is the Color”
Andrew Marlin – “Erie Fiddler”
Carolina Chocolate Drops – “Cornbread and Butterbeans”
The Rolling Stones – “Rocks Off”
Count Basie and His Orchestra – “Honeysuckle Rose”
Roy Harvey – “Blue Eyes”
Blind Boy Fuller – “Step It Up and Go”
Rhiannon Giddens, Francesco Turrisi – “Avalon”
Carolina Chocolate Drops – “Snowden’s Jig (Genuine Negro Jig)”
Barbara Lewis -“Hello Stranger”
The O’Kaysions – “Girl Watcher”
Joe and Odell Thompson – “Donna Got a Rambling Mind”
Carolina Chocolate Drops – “Country Girl”
Carolina Chocolate Drops – “Hit ‘Em Up Style”
Our Native Daughters – “Moon Meets the Sun”
Rhiannon Giddens, Francesco Turrisi – “Si Dolce é’l Tormento”


BGS is proud to produce Carolina Calling in partnership with Come Hear NC, a campaign from the North Carolina Department of Natural & Cultural Resources designed to celebrate North Carolinians’ contribution to the canon of American music.

Photo Credit: Ebru Yildiz

Enter to win a prize bundle featuring a signed copy of author and Carolina Calling host David Menconi’s ‘Step It Up and Go: The Story of North Carolina Music,’ BGS Merch, and surprises from our friends at Come Hear North Carolina.

Guided by Acoustic Demos, Paul Thorn’s New Album Finds Magic in Memphis

For years, you could always count on a Paul Thorn record for songs about insatiable lust and desire. That’s still true on his newest release, It’s Never Too Late to Call, although that carnal urgency has been overtaken by… yes, actual love. The long-awaited album isn’t exactly sentimental, as “What I Could Do” details the ways his life would be more productive without still being in love with somebody. There’s also “Goodbye Is the Last Word,” an aching slow song that basically offers advice on how to leave a relationship that’s turned toxic. Even the duet with his wife, Heather, is titled “Breaking Up for Good Again.”

Still, on the boisterous “Here We Go,” he sings, “I feel good about what the future holds.” As he should.

“I like to think I’ve just matured a little bit,” Thorn tells BGS. “I’m 57 years old and the way I looked at things 10 years ago ain’t the way I look at them now. If you’re still the same person you were 10 years ago, you wasted 10 years.”

On It’s Never Too Late to Call, there’s not a minute wasted. Thorn can still crank up that R&B groove that’s made him a must-see artist for decades. Meanwhile, “Sapphire Dream” – a duet with his daughter Kitty Jones — stands among his most evocative performances on any of his records. Here, the Mississippi musician tells BGS about how the acoustic guitar shaped these sessions, the bluegrass bands he admires, and what “Sapalo” really means.

BGS: Why was it appealing for you to make this album in Memphis?

Thorn: Sam Phillips Recording Studio in Memphis has a lot of vintage equipment and recording technology that kinda doesn’t exist anymore. The way that Elvis Presley’s records sounded, and the way that Johnny Cash’s records sounded, and many other great artists sounded — in addition to their talent, it was the way they were recorded and the sound that they caught from that studio.

And it’s not Sun Studios. Let me clarify that – Sam Phillips didn’t own Sun. He rented it, but then when he got successful he built another studio two blocks down called Sam Phillips Recording Studio. That’s the studio I’m talking about. A lot of magic was created in there for a lot of reasons. It’s an hour from where I live, so why not?

Did you have an idea of how you wanted this record to sound before you went in?

I really did, yeah. The producer of this record is Matt Ross-Spang. He’s a Grammy Award winner. He’s very good. I was sending him iPhone demos of me just singing with my acoustic guitar on all these songs. We both decided, after talking a few times, that this record should be built around those acoustic demos. I play rhythm guitar on every song, which is something that I used to not do. I used to not play on my records at all. I would just sing it once with my acoustic guitar and the band would play it.

Although that sounds good and it has its place, I think what we captured on this record more defines what I actually sound like and what I do best. It’s a lot more stripped down and it’s not like a jammy record. There are very few solos on any instrument. This record is all about showcasing the songs. I haven’t put a record out of original material in six years and there are a lot of reasons for that, some good, some bad. But I feel like over those years, these songs that I did get are my best work ever. I really feel that way.

Are there any acoustic guitarists that you really look up to?

I know two people who, in my opinion, are the greatest acoustic guitar players. One is Mac McAnally and the other one is Tommy Emmanuel. They’re not only great guitar players but I’m friends with both of them and I know them personally. They’re the monsters! And I mean that as a compliment. I’m not really a great guitar player but I do a thing that’s unique to me. Tommy and Mac, they can sit down and play with anybody. I can play good with myself but I don’t know how to follow other people. These guys are on another planet, as far as guitar players.

Are you a bluegrass listener?

I grew up around two types of music as a child. My dad was a preacher so I grew up around black gospel music and white bluegrass gospel music. You know, there’s a group named Balsam Range who recorded a song I wrote called “Angel Too Soon.” They had a No. 1 on the bluegrass charts and it stayed there a long time. I’m clearly not a bluegrass artist, but I have had songs covered by a top bluegrass artist. So, I have that in me. And when it’s done right, I love it Another group that I’m a big fan of — and in my opinion they do it as good as anybody — is The Isaacs. They do bluegrass gospel and when I watch them, I’m looking at excellence.

On this record, you start out with a couple of mellow songs but then you hit that R&B groove on “Sapalo.” So, I have to ask, what does that title mean?

I was watching a video on YouTube of James Brown, and before I clicked on it, the description said “James Brown High on PCP.” The premise of the video is that he’d just gotten out of jail and he was being interviewed by a very straight-laced lady, a local news anchor. It was clear from the get-go that he was high on drugs while he was doing the interview. She said, “Mr. Brown, how are things now that you’re out of jail?” She said, “How do you feel now?” And he goes, “I feel good! I look good! I smell good! It’s all good! I make love good!” He was saying all this off-the-wall stuff. Then she said, “What are your upcoming plans?” And he said, “Well, I’m going to Brazil. I’m going to São Paulo!” He said, “We’re going to JAM!”

So I was just writing down all of this stuff he was saying, and the song wound up being a song about redemption. At least in that moment, he was claiming that he had put his life back together, which he was lying to himself because he was on TV high on PCP. But I tried to spin it as everyone needs a shot at redemption. It’s about being optimistic with whatever time you’ve got left.

Listening to “You Mess Around & Get a Buzz,” I caught that Clarksdale reference right off. I know that being from Mississippi is a big part of your story, and I’m curious if you ever feel like you’re an ambassador for the state.

Well, I would only say this because you brought it up but I guess I am in some way. When I use the word “ambassador,” to me that means somebody who goes abroad and tells other people about how good it is where he lives. So, in that way I guess I am. I was very flattered a few years ago when the state of Mississippi invited me down to the capitol and they declared March 27 as Paul Thorn Day. So, I got a day! You know, most times you gotta die before you get a day.

You’ve got the same hometown as Elvis. I’m wondering, if you could have pitched him any of the songs you’ve written, which one would you pick?

That’s a hard question, man. I tell you, I wrote a song called “That’s Life.” All the words in that song were words my mother has said throughout my life. I’ve played it a lot and people like the song. If I could get one song recorded by Elvis, it would probably be “That’s Life.”

Your fans often become characters in your songs, too. It happens on this album on “Sapalo” and “Holy Hottie Toddy.” You’ve cultivated one of the most loyal fan bases that I’ve seen. What are some of the things you’ve done right, to keep people invested in you and your career?

That’s a hard question but if I had to answer, I think to get down to the brass nuts of it, they know I love them. You can say that, but a lot of artists will do their show and they walk off the stage and they’re ready to get to the hotel room. I understand that. I feel that way sometimes myself, but at every show – prior to the pandemic – on the last song I always go out into the crowd. And while I’m singing I’m hugging people and shaking people’s hands. And when that’s done I go out in the front and sign CDs and take pictures. I’ll stand there until the last one’s gone.

I don’t do it as a career strategy. I do it because those people got off work, got a babysitter, took a shower, bought a ticket, and they’re going to spend their whole evening with me. And my job is to give them my whole evening. That’s what I try to do. I think that’s why they stay with me, and I think that’s why they’re loyal. They’re loyal to me because I’m loyal to them.


Photo credit: Steve Roberts

The Show on the Road – Robert Finley

This week on The Show On The Road, we journey to northern Louisiana for a unique conversation with sprightly blues and southern rock singer Robert Finley, who began making music in his cotton-growing family in the 1960s, and has been rediscovered and empowered through his remarkable partnership with Dan Auerbach of The Black Keys.

LISTEN: APPLE PODCASTSSPOTIFYSTITCHER

Finley’s funky and cheeky comeback album, Goin’ Platinum (which sounds like a lost Motown gem), came in 2017. In May of 2021, he celebrated the release of the deeply personal follow-up, Sharecropper’s Son. As you can hear in the episode, even in his late sixties, Finley is a playful force to be reckoned with and isn’t shy about sharing how faith and music have gotten him through decades of tragedy and hardship. In 2019 he even reached the semi-finals of America’s Got Talent.

Growing up in a religious home where blues and soul music was rarely allowed to be heard, Finley worked as an army helicopter repairman and professional carpenter for many years, often keeping his keen musical ideas to himself. He may now be legally blind, but the always-sharp dressed Finley (he loves a snakeskin jacket) was spotted busking on the streets of Helena, Arkansas and the blues-obsessed Auerbach was smitten with Finley’s raw, swampy Jimi Hendrix meets James Brown tone.

Both of Finley’s critically-applauded releases subsequently came out on Auerbach’s Easy Eye Sound, which has become a home for previously unheralded Black artists like Yola, Jimmy “Duck” Holmes, and Leo Bud Welch.

(Editor’s note: Read BGS’ recent interview with Robert Finley here.)


 

The Show on the Road – Bettye LaVette

This week on The Show On The Road, we feature an intimate conversation with beloved soul and R&B singer, Bettye LaVette.

LISTEN: APPLE PODCASTSSPOTIFYSTITCHER

Covering her remarkable six decades in show-business, we dive deep into LaVette‘s beginnings as a Detroit hit-making teenager during Motown’s heyday (her neighbor was Smokey Robinson), to her early career touring with Otis Redding and James Brown, and the hard times that followed, as a music industry steeped in racist and sexist traditions largely turned its back on her.

While other soulful song stylists like Sharon Jones, Tina Turner, Mavis Staples and others saw their status and popularity rise with time, LaVette remains an underrated, best kept secret on the Americana circuit, with younger listeners just discovering her remarkable work covering anyone and everyone from The Beatles to Neil Young to Billie Holiday.

After nearly dropping out of music, her remarkable comeback began in 2005 with a string of acclaimed records — bringing her from half-filled bars to singing “Blackbird” at The Hollywood Bowl with a 32-piece orchestra, being nominated for five Grammy awards, and being inducted into the Blues Hall of Fame.

One thing you’ll notice immediately is her fiery laugh, which punctuates the episode — even when telling the darkest stories, like her early manager getting shot and her 1960s hits being recorded by white artists, leaving her versions largely forgotten. Her Grammy-nominated newest LP Blackbirds, produced by legendary drummer Steve Jordan, shows her at her most vulnerable best.


Photo credit: Mark Seliger

With a Country and Soul Groove, Marcus King Drives ‘El Dorado’ to the Grammys

Thanks to a Grammy nomination for Best Americana Album, Marcus King is getting a second chance to make a first impression.

At the dawn of 2020, he’d been poised to become a breakout star in roots music, able to deliver an electrifying show with the soul chops to match. After three albums billed as The Marcus King Band, his solo debut record, El Dorado (produced by Dan Auerbach), received positive notices just about everywhere, including BGS. But as the year unraveled, so did his touring plans. In response, he turned his attention to songwriting, ended up booking some socially-distanced shows at drive-in movie theaters, and even landed a spot on The Tonight Show With Jimmy Fallon. And with attention from the Grammys, he’s back in the game — although he’s been surrounded by music from the time he was a kid.

“I don’t remember a time when it wasn’t entirely prominent in my life,” he tells BGS. “Just a focal point of every conversation or thought that I had.”

In the interview below, the 24-year-old performer talks about the family influence of his father and grandfather (who were both musicians), his earliest years on the stage, and the advice he’d give to teenagers with an equally burning desire to pursue a life in music.

BGS: There’s a lyric in “Wildflowers and Wine” that refers to an “old scratchy record.” I’m assuming you’re a vinyl collector. How did you go about building your collection?

King: It started when I was about 11 years old. I started with my mother’s collection and my dad’s collection, because in the early ‘90s that was dead technology, you know? They had tapes and CDs, so I inherited everybody’s collection. I inherited my Grandpa Pete’s big old stereo from the ‘50s when nobody wanted to carry it around anymore. The first record I bought on my own was Robin Trower, Bridge of Sighs. I just remember that smell of the record store and all those gatefolds and tools that went with it for cleaning your records. You know, the care that goes into it.

Who are some of your country influences?

Man, my grandfather spoon-fed me on all the good things country when I was growing up. We lost him when I was 14. He was a big country music proponent his whole life. He played in the Officers Band when he was in the Air Force in the ‘60s and he and his band backed up Charley Pride when he came over and played Ramstein Air Force Base [in Germany]. He backed up a number of legends over there. They asked him on the base television that they had over there, what he had to say to all the troops, and he said, “Long live country music!” So, he started me young on Charley Pride, of course, and George Jones was our jam. That’s what we listened to the most. Willie Nelson, Merle Haggard, Waylon Jennings… The list goes on and on, you know how that is.

Who are your influences when it comes to showmanship?

As far as showmanship’s concerned, I mentioned that my grandfather was really into country music and I grew up listening to country music with him. And my father turned me on to the Allman Brothers and Southern rock and blues guitar players like Albert, B.B., and Freddie King. What I discovered on my own was soul music. And the first artist I remember really, really digging was James Brown. I just loved the way that he controlled the stage and the way he controlled his band.

You know, to speak about my grandfather, Bill King, again, his biggest advice to me was that you’ve got to dress for the show, never get on the stage without your boots on, and you just need to dress like you’re not there to see the show – but you’re there to put the show on. Showmanship was always instilled in, early on. Well after the importance of knowing how to play your damn instrument, but it was an important one.

I’d read that you started playing professionally at 11 years old. What kind of gigs were those?

It was a lot of Christian bookstores, a lot of coffeehouses. We just played anywhere that would take us. My father is a born again Christian and a blues guitar player, which was a really niche market at the time. So, he wanted to play Hendrix covers but he would rewrite the lyrics from like “red house” to “church house.” And that would be our foothold into the Christian community. He went through his fair share of hard times with that, trying to be accepted into a gospel music community. Because he had long hair and played “the devil’s music.” But that was the kind of venues I started playing.

Were you with your dad’s group, or playing with your own group?

I started playing with my dad’s band when I was about 8 years old. I was playing what I knew. He would let me come up and play. That’s where I cut my teeth. When I was 11, I got my first experience in the studio, playing with my dad’s group. That’s when I started going out with his group.

From there, I tried to be whatever he needed. If he needed a rhythm guitar player, I’d do that, or if his drummer couldn’t make it, I’d play drums. Or his bass player, same situation. I was just there for whatever needed to be done. I just liked to play. When I was 13, that’s when I took on the leadership role, or started the process.

At what point did you start driving? Did they put you behind the wheel when you had gigs?

I was real tenacious about that, man. I had a real roaming nature about me. I was a Bassett Hound. I’d put my nose to the ground, look up, and be lost as hell. I wouldn’t know where I was. So, I was just ready to go and didn’t care where. I got my learner’s permit when I was 14 in South Carolina. The only stipulation was that I could drive as much as I wanted in the daytime, but in the evening, if I needed a licensed driver in the car with me.

So, to me, that meant I needed to hire a band of adults who could act as chaperones for me in the bars, and that could be licensed drivers in the car. Then I could be the sober driver at the end of the night. I had a good situation for anybody who wanted to come play with me. I would drive them there. You could drink as much as you want because I’d drive us home. And I’d get you paid good because I kept us working, at least four or five nights a week. I’d book us under a fake name, through my email, so people would take us more seriously.

What was it like being 14 years old, up on a stage in a club? Did you like it?

Oh man, I loved it! I saw my future ahead of me when I got there. I had to deal with my first drunk audience member. Or I had to play louder than a drunk argument. Or I had to have my first encounter with a lousy club owner that didn’t want to pay us. I saw my first bar brawl. I loved it, I ate it up. You go in there and you’ve got to have an assertiveness about you, but then again, you don’t want to be a 15-year-old asshole that nobody wants to work with.

I’m glad that that didn’t happen. But you had to be assertive because, being 15 years old, there was a lot of opportunity. You know, I have a lot of faith in human beings but there is the opportunity that people will try to rip you off. There was a lot of navigating those waters and it worked out good. I had a lot of great experiences in those days.

Were you going to high school during this time?

I was. I was going to high school and playing four or five nights a week. But, you know, I wasn’t up to no good, so my dad didn’t really see much harm in it. He was supportive of my dreams, but he was torn, though, because I was having trouble in school. I was just not interested and I was hyper-focused on music, so that was difficult for him as a parent but also as a supporter of my dreams. But it worked out.

For teenagers now in that same situation, what message would you send out to a kid who’s frustrated at the moment, but knows they wants to have a career in music?

I’ve always said, you knock on every door, and if they don’t answer the door, knock ‘em down. It’s sometimes better to ask for forgiveness than it is for permission in this industry. You know, it’s a thin line you’ve got to walk. You’ve got to know your worth but you can’t have a big head. You should never be overly confident. Never be your biggest fan, but be your second-biggest fan.


Photo credit: Alysse Gafkjen

From Banjo to the Blues, This North Carolina Writer Tells One Big Story

I came to North Carolina three decades ago, as music critic for the Raleigh News & Observer, knowing very little about the state’s music. Yes, I was plugged into the college-radio end of the spectrum, from Let’s Active to The Connells, and I’d at least heard of Doc and Earl (Watson and Scruggs, respectively). But there was a lot more to it, obviously, and the joy of my career was figuring out that North Carolina’s many disparate strains — old-time and bluegrass, blues and country, rock and pop, soul and r&b, jazz and hip-hop, and of course beach music — were all part of one big story.

I tried to tell that story in Step It Up and Go: The Story of North Carolina Popular Music, from Blind Boy Fuller and Doc Watson to Nina Simone and Superchunk, based on many years of reporting, researching, and listening. It’s a story that covers a lot of ground from the mountains to the coast in The Old North State and beyond, with the likes of James Brown, Bill Monroe, and R.E.M. showing up in key cameo roles at various points.

As we’ve tried to convey with the book’s subtitle, it involves a wide range of music, from the roots music of bluegrass forefather Charlie Poole and bluegrass-banjo inventor Earl Scruggs to Ben Folds Five’s “punk rock for sissies,” super-producer/deejay 9th Wonder’s hip-hop to the Avett Brothers’ post-punk folk-rock. And what ties all of it together? Glad you asked! The narrative thread running through Step It Up and Go is working-class populism, a deeply rooted North Carolina tradition that runs into the present day. The simple detail of how to earn a living is a pretty prominent feature of each chapter, starting with the four acts in the subtitle.

Fuller (whose 1940 Piedmont blues classic provides my book’s title) and Watson were both blind men who turned to music as a way to provide for their families when few other avenues were available. Eunice Waymon’s plans to be a classical pianist were derailed and she had to start singing pop songs in nightclubs for a living, taking the name Nina Simone because she knew her Methodist preacher mother would not approve. And Superchunk is a punk band known for the 1989 wage-slave anthem “Slack Motherfucker” — and also for running Merge Records, one of the most improbably successful record companies of modern times.

Across genres, the state’s musicians have a proud, idealistic pragmatism that manifests as a certain mindset in which North Carolina is “The Dayjob State.” It’s an outlook that a lot of our state’s greatest artists retain even after music stops being a hobby and they go pro. Two of the state’s best-known Piedmont blues players, Elizabeth “Libba” Cotten (of “Freight Train” fame) and master guitarist Etta Baker, had amazing careers as musicians even though they didn’t seriously pursue it until they were both in their 60s. Pastor Shirley Caesar was even older, pushing 80, when she had a viral hit with her old chestnut “Hold My Mule.”

In the modern era, Carolina Chocolate Drops alumnus Rhiannon Giddens has run her career as a lifelong learning experience, involving academic research as well as performing, bringing long-forgotten or even unknown history and ancestors to light in the 21st century. With her creative work spanning from Our Native Daughters to an original opera score, Giddens honors her musical roots while retaining a spirit of collaboration, as many North Carolina musicians have done before her.

Or consider the aforementioned Doc Watson, who died in 2012 as one of the 20th century’s greatest musicians. A flatpicking legend who played guitar better than almost anyone else ever had, he nevertheless carried himself with a self-deprecating nonchalance; he just never seemed as impressed with himself as the rest of the world was. Barry Poss, whose Durham-based bluegrass label Sugar Hill Records released 13 of Watson’s albums over the years, used to express his frustration over Watson’s retiring nature and habit of deferring to other players even though there was never a time when he wasn’t the best musician in the room.

But that didn’t hurt Watson’s legacy in the slightest, and maybe it was just his way of dealing with the world. Jack Lawrence, one of Watson’s longtime accompanists, once told me that if he had been sighted, Watson probably would have been a carpenter or mechanic while picking for fun on weekends. Turns out that Doc was a homebody who would rather have spent more time at home in Deep Gap.

“Ask Doc how he wants to be remembered, and guitar-playing really doesn’t enter into it,” Lawrence said. “He’d rather be remembered just as the good ol’ boy down the road.”

Like the rest of North Carolina’s cast of musical characters, he’s remembered for that and a whole lot more.


Doc Watson needleprint, fashioned out of upholstery fabric samples by artist/musician Caitlin Cary in 2017. (Photo by Scott Sharpe.)

Billy Strings Brings Nine Shows from Five Nashville Venues to Your Screen

It’s rare for Billy Strings to play a show in Nashville. This month, he’s doing nine of them.

The reigning IBMA Guitar Player of the Year will be hopping from venue to venue as part of a livestream series that serves as a fundraiser for important organizations, as well as a reunion with his band. He’ll launch the series at Nashville’s newest venue, Brooklyn Bowl, for a pair of shows on July 16 and 17. The run concludes on July 26 at 3rd & Lindsley. (Get the details.)

“Those are my boys and I’m just lucky to play with them,” he says of mandolinist Jarrod Walker, banjo player Billy Failing, and bassist Royal Masat. “I haven’t been able to hang with them a bunch. We went from being around each other 24/7, for months and months and months on end, to never seeing each other, period. So I’m just excited to get back together with my band, and not only play music, but just to be with them, and hang out, and make jokes. I just love those guys, you know?”

With time off the road, Billy Strings says he’s been redirecting his attention to his other hobbies, including fishing and hot rods. Looking ahead, he’ll also compete for IBMA’s 2020 Entertainer of the Year – his first time nominated in that category. (He’s also the reigning champ in the New Artist category, as well as Guitar Player of the Year.) In between visits to the lake and the garage, he called in to BGS.

BGS: Do you think you’ll approach each of these nine shows differently?

Billy Strings: Yeah, we usually try to do that anyway with the set lists. Each show has its own set list and its own vibe. It depends on where we are and where we’re playing. When I write the set list, a lot of times I take into consideration geographic locations or famous people that may have lived around there. Anything like that I can throw into the set to make it relevant. So, yeah, for each show, we’re going to approach them just like we would in that way.

Also, we might cater to the specific venues. We’re playing the Station Inn and that’s a classic bluegrass place, so we might play a bunch of bluegrass that night. We’re playing Exit/In and City Winery and those are different vibes. City Winery can be our real classy, Frank Sinatra show, and at Exit/In we can get really psychedelic and rock out.

You’ll have an international audience tuning into these shows, so this is a chance for people who have never been to Nashville to see what it’s like. For those who may not understand the diversity of the music community here, how would you describe it to them?

It’s a big melting pot. Like you said, it’s very diverse. And there’s a lot of younger musicians that are on fire! Marcus King and Molly Tuttle and Sierra Hull… just so many people that are killing it. They all live around there. It’s a really great place to be as a musician. There are always people to make music with, and to pick with, and write music with. We’ll see if we can get a couple of guests to come down. Yeah, Nashville’s just crazy, man. You walk into the grocery store and you run into your favorite musician.

There’s money being raised through these concerts, and one of the beneficiaries is Backline, which supports mental health in the music industry. What is it about Backline that made you want to include them?

I, myself, personally have struggled with anxiety and panic attacks on tour, on the bus, on stage, and there’s a lot of people in the industry that suffer with the same shit. A lot of people may not speak out about it, or try to hide it, or don’t know who to look to for help. We just lost Jeff Austin and we just lost Neal Casal. There are a couple of other folks that are good friends of mine, that are traveling musicians that have been working so hard, and I think that has a huge deal to do with anxiety and depression.

I mean, when you’re in the limelight and you’re on stage and everybody wants to take your picture all the time, a lot of times it almost can be lonely. You never get any alone time and it can get weird. I know Jeff probably struggled with that. He told me about how he struggled being in the limelight and everybody critiquing his every move and everything he does is under scrutiny. That’s not a good place to be. …

The music industry can be really tough, believe it or not, for people who are on the stage and for people who are in the crews. There are plenty of organizations that help with that, whether it’s getting musicians health insurance or dental work or finding somebody a therapist. Backline is a huge, generalized hub where you can research and find all those different organizations and read about what is the right direction for you. You can even get with somebody on Backline and they’ll help you figure it out.

You also have the ACLU and the NAACP Legal Defense and Educational Fund as beneficiaries of this event. Why was it important for you to include them?

Well, because there’s a huge movement happening right now that I think is very important. Black people have been treated like shit, a lot, for a long time. And I just want to be on the side of history that is not an asshole. I got a lot of Black friends and my niece is Black. I’ve got family and friends and people that I love — and it shouldn’t even matter. …There’s a lot of miscommunication, a lot of divide, a lot of crazy shit going on in the country right now. I’m just all for love, man. I’m all for equality, I’m all for peace, so I wanted to donate a portion of the proceeds from these events to those organizations, just to help out.

Who are some Black musicians that influenced you?

Jimi Hendrix, definitely. Right off the bat. That’s the first guy I think of. He was amazing. Mississippi John Hurt, you know, he was a huge influence on Merle and Doc Watson. That’s who I grew up listening to, and I heard all that Mississippi John Hurt flavor in Merle Watson’s playing. That comes from the blues, the Delta blues. It goes on to Muddy Waters, B.B. King, all those cats. James Brown, come on!

I mean, without Black music, would there even be rock ‘n’ roll? I don’t even know if there would be bluegrass! Bill Monroe learned the blues from Arnold Schultz, a Black man who got him his first job. If you think about “bluegrass” – the word “blue” is in there from the blues. It’s got blues notes in it. A lot of bluegrass is just fast blues. And that’s Black music. Arnold Schultz taught Bill Monroe about that, and then he incorporated it into his music. All the music that we’re all inspired by has roots in Black music.

You mentioned Doc Watson, and of course he was loved by the folk community and the bluegrass community. Did folk music influence you, coming up?

Yeah, I think there was a point where I really got turned onto Bob Dylan and his lyrics. A lot of the old songs that I grew up playing is considered folk music. The Carter Family stuff and a lot of the Doc Watson stuff. …My friend Benji’s family used to have these gatherings, like family reunions, where they would all play bingo. I went to one of those and won a bingo, so I got to go up to the table and pick a prize. And I picked Blonde on Blonde. …I started really getting into those lyrics and all of those words.

That’s where I started realizing, OK, I like Doc Watson a bunch because he’s such a beautiful guitar player and singer, among many other reasons. Bob Dylan does what Doc Watson does on his guitar with his words. … And then I got into John Hartford really heavy, and if you listen to John Hartford’s early music, man, it is some of the most lyrically proficient stuff you’re ever going to hear! It’s amazing! There’s that old saying, “Three chords and the truth.” I really think there’s something to that. A lot of those old folk songs are so simple, but what they’re saying is so real that it cuts you.


Photo credit: Jesse Faatz

Basmati Rice & Spice Salad

Back with another blogisode of Make ‘Em Like It, where I, your humble cooker (yeah, I totes just made that a noun) hope to inspire you to take risks on preparing foods that you or your loved ones haven’t generally taken a liking to in the past. In this blogisode, it’s all about rice and salad.

If I use the word “salad” around my bonus kids, their faces scrunch and their lips purse ‘n’ bow. They’re super cute, though, y’all, and if we were all on the couch playing a game of, “Silly Faces of 2017,” they’d win all the candy. When it comes to cooking and feeding them and trying to inspire them to begin to grasp a concept towards lifelong nutrition, though, it can be a struggle.

Then there’s that man of mine. His food foibles include a disdain of plain rice. I don’t believe that he’s rare in his disposition or anything like that. But look at me, y’all: I’m straight up 100 percent Ghanaian. THE food staple of all staples in Africa is rice, rice baby. It doesn’t matter what else is going on at mealtime; there is always a pot of rice on the back burner of the stove. It’s like a Southern American’s doughy rolls or an Italian’s crusty baguette. To eat a meal without your staple feels all kinds of wrong. As an adult whose journey through American cuisine has been challenging and frustrating, I have been able to let go of always having to have rice with everything I eat. However, I have not released an ounce of my sincere and desperate love of the stuff. When my man told me he didn’t care for rice, I had a full on Fred Sanford moment (hand on heart, heavy breathing, jaw stuck on stunned) and it took me a while to recover from it.

So I should stop making both salad and rice altogether and give in to a lifetime of Food Sacrifice, right?

Who you talkin’ to, fool? Nah.

Lemme do you one better than that. Here’s a version of rice and salad that nobody will see coming … and it’s full of flavor and good energy. A note of caution, though — I can’t help you if you have picky eaters who don’t do multi-colored food. My six-year-old bonus child is one of those no-goers. For instance, she loves chicken and she loves broccoli — buuuut if the chicken and broccoli are combined on her plate, her gag reflex is on automatic. Luckily, she and I are peas in a pod when it comes to that plain-rice-love — so, winning.

So, as James Brown would say (or sing, rather), “Try Me” …

Ingredients (serves 8)
4 cups of water
1 Tbsp kosher salt (the water for boiling the rice should taste like salted sea water to make sure that the flavor permeates through the grains)
10 cardamom pods, tied in cheese cloth
2 cups uncooked basmati rice, rinsed until water runs clear
1 large shallot, thinly sliced
1 cup golden raisins
1 cup celery, thinly sliced
1 cup peas
1/2 cup mint, chopped
1/2 cup flat leaf parsley, chopped
1 Tbsp grated organic lemon zest (if you don’t use organic fruit for zest, you’re just grating pesticides right into your meal)
Crispy fried onions to garnish

Salad Dressing
1 Tbsp safflower, grapeseed, or similar oil
1/2 tsp black pepper
1 Tbsp cumin
1/4 tsp cinnamon
1 Tbsp chili powder
1 Tbsp coriander
1 tsp crushed red pepper
1 tsp minced garlic
1 cup tomato sauce (regular sodium)
2 tsp kosher salt
1/4 cup extra virgin olive oil
1 Tbsp honey
1 Tbsp balsamic vinegar
1 Tbsp lemon juice
1 Tbsp grated ginger (or 1 Tbsp ginger paste)
Additional option — 1 Tbsp sriracha

Directions
Bring water, salt, and cardamom to a boil in a large pot. Add rice, stir, and return to a boil, then reduce to a simmer, cover, and cook for 15 minutes or until fluffy. Don’t worry if some rice gets stuck to the pan. It happens to the best of us. Once rice is cooked, spoon out onto a baking sheet brushed with oil. Lay rice out evenly and drizzle a little olive oil on top and toss the rice until evenly coated. Let cool until slightly warm or room temperature.

Once rice is no longer hot to touch, transfer to large mixing bowl. Add remaining ingredients except for salad dressing and fried onions — but don’t toss them in yet.

Add safflower oil or similar to small shallow pan on medium heat and add the next six ingredients under Salad Dressing. Warm just until tiny bubbles start to form. When the aroma of the spices is rich in the room, add the garlic for final 60 seconds, then turn off the heat and transfer spices and garlic into a small mixing bowl.

Add salad dressing ingredients to the small mixing bowl and whisk until well incorporated. Pour dressing over the rice and toss to coat evenly.

Garnish with crispy fried onions.