Tag: jamgrass

Zoe & Cloyd Made a Traditional Album – But Not the Way You Think

Posted on by Justin Hiltner

If you were to try to typify bluegrass as being about any one singular thing, that one thing might be family. Not just biological family, but musical family, chosen family, and the way the music survives generation to generation, passed down as a folkway and aural tradition. Often, though not always, this music is a family tradition, passed along family trees like an heirloom or like more typical family businesses.

John Cloyd Miller and Natalya Zoe Weinstein, bluegrass duo and band leaders of Zoe & Cloyd, have made a brand new album that, on the surface, might just seem like a standard bluegrass album paying homage to the folks who came before them, their forefathers. But Songs of Our Grandfathers is so much more complicated and nuanced, wrinkling a format that’s as old as these genres themselves: the tribute album. 

On the new record, released in May on Organic Records, John and Natalya pull songs from the catalogs of their musician grandfathers. Miller’s grandpa, Jim Shumate, was a renowned Western North Carolina fiddler who played a stint in Bill Monroe’s Blue Grass Boys and can be accurately credited with helping get Earl Scruggs the banjo gig that made him famous. Natalya’s grandfather, David Weinstein, was a working klezmer musician who fled unrest in Russia, moving to the U.S. 

The artful way this pair of musicians and life partners combine the styles of their families, of their youths, and of their present lives together, as touring, professional musicians, feels expansive, rich, and bold, like newgrass that’s never been newgrassed before. But, there’s a timelessness here, a patina, that speaks to the greater tradition this record can lay claim to perpetuating. (Thank goodness.) 

Songs of Our Grandfathers isn’t just nostalgia, heritage, lineage, legacy- and canon-building. It’s not just carrying on tradition for tradition’s sake. It’s effortlessly and wholly bluegrass because it innovates, it complicates, and it challenges its listeners to think outside of preconceived notions of what bluegrass, string band, and old-time music are. Because that’s exactly what bluegrass’s grandfathers, grandmothers, and grandparents were doing as they invented this music. 

We began our phone chat about the new album discussing each of their grandparents and their musical idiosyncrasies.

Can we start by talking about Jim Shumate? His presence is throughout the record and he’s influenced you both, can you tell us a bit about him and his music making? 

John Cloyd Miller: He was born in 1921 in Wilkes County, North Carolina, on a mountain called Chestnut Mountain. He started playing fiddle as a young boy, as a teenager. His older brother Mac, who was 10 years older – the same age as Bill Monroe – got him his first fiddle, which is a fiddle he kept his entire life and we actually have, now. It’s an old Sears & Roebuck Strad copy, but he played some tone into it! His Uncle Erby played fiddle so he heard him a lot growing up and then he got into Arthur Smith and all that kind of stuff. He moved to Hickory when he got older, when he was a young man, and was playing on the radio down there when Bill Monroe heard him and asked him to be in the Blue Grass Boys. That was the time that Stringbean was in the band and Sally Ann Forrester, too.

When Stringbean decided to leave the band and go off with Lew Childre, Bill needed a banjo player and it’s now a pretty well known story that Jim knew a banjo player – he knew Earl Scruggs – and really pushed, begged him really, to audition for Bill. Earl was pretty reluctant to do it, but he did, and the rest is history. Later on, when Flatt & Scruggs broke off [from the Blue Grass Boys], Jim was their first fiddler, as you know. He recorded on their Mercury sessions. But he didn’t like touring, he wasn’t a touring kinda guy at all. He had four kids at home – three at the time, when he was younger, and one later. 

Natalya Zoe Weinstein: He liked Mama’s cookin’. 

[both laugh]

Jim Shumate, L (John Cloyd Miller’s grandfather); David Weinstein, R (Natalya Zoe Weinstein’s grandfather)

JCM: He did! He liked his own bed and grandma’s cooking, for sure. He liked to go up on the mountain. He worked in the furniture industry pretty much his whole life, but he also had his hand in the music. He ran a place called “Cat Square,” kind of a small town sort of Hickory Opry, a music show. He was always playing. I have photos of him through the late ‘40s and through the ‘50s with all sorts of people, Don Reno – all those guys. He made records and he had his own band called Sons of the Carolinas, which had George Shuffler in it and some other guys. He was always playing. He played with Dwight Barker and the Melody Boys; he did some sides with Don Walker, who he played with before he met Bill Monroe. He was always making music. 

After Flatt & Scruggs it was largely regionally, because he wasn’t out touring, but he said people would always come by. Any time guys like Lester and them were in town they would always drive the bus and park it right in the yard. He was always in the music, but his influence was not felt as widely later on, I think because he wasn’t out [touring]. He did come back to recording in the ‘90s and made five cassettes for Heritage Records and those got disseminated kind of regionally. Michael Cleveland cut one of the songs that was on one of those tapes a year or so ago. People know his music, but we enjoy getting his legacy out there a bit more. He’s got such a unique style and certainly was influential. 

He was a great songwriter, too! He was my main musical influence. I heard him play a ton growing up. He was so bluesy and slidey, he was a real master of syncopation, which is something that got ingrained in me. People always forget about his songwriting, but the way I grew up, I always thought that being a musician meant that you sing stuff, you write songs. You pick, too, but you do all of it. It was just part of being musical and I think that came from him as well. 

It makes me think of, well, I talk a lot about how the most “bluegrass” someone can be is being innovative and being themselves, whether that comes across as “traditional bluegrass,” genre-wise or not. 

JCM: That’s really insightful and it’s so true, when you look at those early players – everybody always looks at the first generation and, that’s good, that can be very grounding, but those guys were all unique! They were all unique artists, they had their own styles – sure, they were listening to one another, but Lester Flatt doesn’t sound like Bill Monroe who doesn’t sound like Carter Stanley. They don’t sound like each other!

Natalya, I wanted to ask you about your grandfather, too. If you could tell us a bit about the musical influences that represent him on this record, as well. 

NZW: He passed away when I was fairly young, my dad had me when he was fifty-one, so my grandfather was quite older than me – I think I was eleven when he passed away. [My father and he] had an interesting relationship; he wasn’t always a well-liked man. He escaped a lot of violence and poverty in Russia, so he wasn’t a very kind man and my dad didn’t have a very close relationship with him. I don’t have any audio recordings of his music, I have a couple of audio interviews that my dad and uncle did with him, but I don’t have any recordings of his music. 

My dad was moving a few years back and found all these old music notebooks from my grandfather. He asked me, “Do you want these old, handwritten, junky notebooks?” And I was like, “Yes!! Please give those to me!” [Laughs] That was the source, for me, for my grandfather’s music. I didn’t have one-on-one experiences with him, I didn’t have recordings of him, so these notebooks are really the only link to his music that I have. We have about five or six notebooks that have songs in them – they’re pretty hard to decipher, they’re forty or fifty years old. They have all different kinds of material in them, from klezmer to mambos and tangos even to “Tennessee Waltz,” which shows up in one of them as a jazz standard. He also played some classical music, he didn’t do just one singular thing. Klezmer players were like the wedding band musician of their time, where they had to play a bunch of different styles based on who their audience was. 

JCM: We definitely got a little bit of a sense of who he was from these audio interviews that her uncle and dad had made with him. We got to hear his voice, you know he didn’t speak English very well so it’s mostly in Russian and Yiddish. You get a sense of some of the stuff he saw, in these interviews. You can tell it hardened him. 

NZW: He had a tough life for sure, he struggled a lot and music was really the only thing [he did]. He wasn’t really educated. He talked about how when he came here [to the U.S.] he tried to be a plumber and he tried to be an electrician, but he kept making mistakes. He said, “I couldn’t do anything except play music.” He felt almost like he was stuck with it. He loved it and he was passionate about it, but I got the sense that it was his only option. 

There’s a similar energy from both grandfathers around being musicians, but not just in a traditional touring, “road dog,” sort of lifestyle. 

NZW: You’re right, and they were both kind of skeptical of the past. 

JCM: They both came from very humble beginnings. My grandfather didn’t have any education, either. Natalya’s grandfather, apparently, escaped the Bolshevik revolution on a hay wagon. He was a teenager and they were trying to conscript him into the army to fight – it’s crazy stuff! 

Bluegrass is always considering lineage and tradition and how those things are passed along. One of the things that I think is really interesting about it is there aren’t a lot of marginalized identities represented in the historical record of bluegrass, but there are Jewish identities represented. There’s not a whole lot of representation as you go back through the years, but it’s there. How do you connect the music you’re making, that’s infused with Jewish influences and has that cultural identity, to past Jewish music makers in bluegrass and string bands? You’re clearly thinking about lineage and family with this record, and that’s so bluegrass, but through a different lens with your Jewish identity and the other cultural music styles on the album, too. 

NZW: David Grisman was one of my biggest musical influences early on, he was a big bridge, for me, between my dad – who plays jazz – and the bluegrass connection as well as the Jewish connection. We talk about how this album was inspired by Songs of Our Fathers, the 1995 album by David Grisman and Andy Statman. Andy Statman, who played on the record, is another one – one of the first shows that John and I went to see when we met in Asheville in 2005 or 2006 was to see Andy Statman at the Black Mountain Center for the Arts, which is this tiny little listening room. It was an incredible show, I remember just being blown away. I remember thinking, “Wow! What a cool fusion.”

JCM: That was the first time we heard that fusion with klezmer music. He was also playing clarinet, he was playing mandolin. He is the bridge between these kinds of music. David doesn’t do as much klezmer, but those two guys together for sure. 

NZW: John and I both came into bluegrass through the Grisman/Garcia connection then I kind of worked my way back from there. Someone gave me a burned CD of Bill Monroe and I was like, “Oh my God, what is this!?” [Laughs]

JCM: So many people have stories like that. That Old & In The Way album was such an influential record, it was like the number one selling bluegrass record for a long time. 

NZW: Yeah, the way I got into bluegrass, I was out in Tacoma, Washington, for an anthropology conference in college and somebody at my hotel was like, “I’ve got an extra ticket for Wintergrass, which is happening right next door.” I said, “Okay, cool!” So we go and I saw Old & In The Gray there [Peter Rowan, Vassar Clements, Grisman], it was an incredible experience. I didn’t really know what I was seeing at the time, because I was so new to bluegrass, but that was my “Ah ha!” moment. Someone handed me a fiddle and I dunno, I played “Angeline the Baker” and that was it! [Laughs]

JCM: When I first heard Grisman play mandolin, his tone and everything, that was like sinking a hook into me. That’s why I even wanted to play mandolin. I wanted to work on getting tone like that! He was a huge influence on so many of us.

Going back home one time, when I had been living out West or whatever, I was listening to Old & In the Way or something and I asked, “Grandpa, do you know this stuff, like ‘Pig in a Pen,’ and all this?” And he was like, “Oh yeah! I know everything on this record!” And he would play them, and that was so cool to me. I hadn’t quite made the connection before. He asked me, “Who’s playing fiddle on that record?” And I said, “Vassar Clements!” He says, “Oh yeah, that’s a good friend of mine!” I was like, “WHAT!?” 

[both laugh]

JCM: I was just this stupid, deadhead college kid – I mean, I’m still a deadhead – but it really clicked. This is a bridge between grandpa’s world, which had always seemed like something in the past, to my world as a young, coming-of-age musician, realizing, “Oh, it’s all the same stuff!” 

To an uninitiated listener, they might hear your record and they might hear the influences that aren’t “traditional bluegrass” as modern cross-pollinations, as something that’s coming from you both and your generation and your own creativity. But, I really wanted to unpack the lineage of the music, because I can sense even in the playing on this album that colors “outside the lines,” it’s clearly part of this bigger tradition in bluegrass of being a bridge between these kinds of disparate parts. Even this “nontraditional” album you’ve made is based on so much tradition – familial tradition, cultural tradition, musical tradition. 

NZW: I think we wanted to honor those traditions and where these songs came from, but we also wanted to put our own spin on it. We hope our grandfathers would have liked that! 

JCM: [Jim Shumate] was very much a traditional musician, but he was always innovative at the same time. Some of the things he did in the ‘50s were very jazzy, with electric guitars playing with him. And he always loved Natalya’s playing. You know, Natalya came from a classical background and anytime she would play something classical for him– 

NZW: Or a waltz. 

JCM: He just loved to hear her play. They didn’t sound like each other, they had very different styles, but he was always very open and he loved everything. 

NZW: I think he would like [the album]. John’s mom texted us yesterday as she was listening to it and said, “I think grandpa would’ve enjoyed that!” So hopefully our grandparents aren’t rolling over in their graves. 

[Both laugh]

Photo Credit: Sarah Johnston

LISTEN: Tone Dog, “Lonesome Bicycle Farmer”

Posted on by Editor

Artist: Tone Dog
Hometown: Durango, Colorado
Song: “Lonesome Bicycle Farmer”
Release Date: December 9, 2022

In Their Words: “I wrote this tune as a flatpicking ode to John Coltrane’s classic quartet of the early to mid ’60s (Coltrane, McCoy Tyner, Elvin Jones, Jimmy Garrison). So much of the bluegrass tradition is steeped in the idea of getting at the ‘roots’ of the sound, the ancient tones and the original innovators. With the continual rising wave of jamgrass I thought it would be really cool to honor what I consider to be the ‘roots’ of the jam tradition, mid-’60s free jazz. As a drummerless improvising trio, it takes a lot of trust in one another to be able to keep the train moving — we have to believe in the shared vision of where the tune is going and commit to its unexpected twists and turns. I think that spirit comes through the recording and stays true to the spontaneous and creative ethic that both bluegrass and jazz uphold.” — Alex Graf, Tone Dog

Photo Credit: Carrie Phillips

BGS Class of 2021: Our Favorite Albums, Made With Intention

Posted on by Justin Hiltner

This collection of albums is not simply a “best of” 2021. That would be selling every single collection included herein far too short. These roots and roots-adjacent releases each stood as a testament to the music makers and communities that spawned them. Not simply in the face of a globe-halting, existentially challenging pandemic, but in the face of an industry, government, and culture that would just as soon have all of us pretend the last two years — and beyond — simply didn’t happen. 

These artists and creators refused to let the pandemic define their artistic output through it, while simultaneously acknowledging, processing, and healing from the pandemic through this music. Not a single album below is a “pandemic record,” yet every single one is a resounding, joyful balm because the intention in each is not simply a reaction to a global disaster or an attempt to commodify it or its by-products. Not a single one is an attempt to “return to normalcy.” They’re each challenging us as listeners, in both overt and subtle ways, to walk into our collective new reality together, wide-eyed and open-armed, and with intention.

Daddy’s Country Gold, Melissa Carper

It was a sly move on Melissa Carper’s part to give her album, Daddy’s Country Gold, a title that works on so many levels, nodding to the passing down of sounds, to her road nickname and to her ability to casually loosen postwar country perceptions of masculinity and femininity. In her songs and performances, her gestures are even more beguilingly subtle. Enlisting a fellow upright bassist to produce with her, the Time Jumpers’ Dennis Crouch, Carper claimed western swing and early honky-tonk eras as her playground, and the shrewd, crooning intimacy of Billie Holiday as her guide. Carper sings in a slight, reedy rasp, deftly phrasing her lines and curling her words to suggest the lasting nature of longing and fleeting nature of pleasure. She’s written a movingly clever ballad of broken commitment (“My Old Chevy Van”), elegantly pining tunes of both torchy and down-home varieties (“I Almost Forgot About You,” “It’s Better If You Never Know”) and whimsical fantasies of rural homesteading, sometimes making clear that she’s cast a female partner in those stories (“Old Fashioned Gal,” “Would You Like to Get Some Goats?”) Her artful knowledgeable nudging of tradition is a revelation. — Jewly Hight

Music City USA, Charley Crockett

Few artists in the last few years have us as fired up as Charley Crockett. His unapologetically individual sound and aesthetic shine through once again on his 2021 release, Music City USA. The irony, of course, is that the album sounds nothing like most of what comes out of modern-day Nashville. It’s an amalgamation of influences both old and new — blues and classic country and soul with a peppering of Texas-tinged Americana on top. Charley Crockett absolutely represents what the future of Music City sounds (and looks) like in our book. — Amy Reitnouer Jacobs

Home Video, Lucy Dacus

We must forgo the existential “Is it roots?” question at this juncture, simply because this stunning and resplendent work by Lucy Dacus refused to be excluded from this list. Perhaps the superlative album of 2021, in a year filled to bursting with objectively and subjectively superlative albums, Home Video is impossibly resonant, relatable, down-to-earth, and touching — despite its intricate specificity and deeply vulnerable personality. Dacus’ queerness, and the beautiful, humane ways it refuses categorization and labels, is the crack beneath the door through which the light of this gorgeous, fully-realized universe is let into our hearts. Her post-evangelical pondering; the challenging while awe-inspiring abstract, amorphous gray zones she doesn’t just examine, but celebrates; the anger of rock and roll paired with the tenderness of folk and the spilled ink of singer-songwriters — whether taken as a masterpiece of genre-fluid postmodernity or an experiment on the fringes of roots music, Dacus’ Home Video establishes this ineffable artist as a subtle, intellect-defying (and -encouraging), empathetic genius of our time. — Justin Hiltner

My Bluegrass Heart, Béla Fleck

It’s been over twenty years since the eminent master of the banjo, Béla Fleck, recorded a bluegrass record. My Bluegrass Heart completes a trilogy of albums (following 1988’s Drive and 1999’s The Bluegrass Sessions) and is as much a who’s who of modern bluegrass – featuring the likes of Billy Strings, Chris Thile, Sierra Hull, Bryan Sutton, Molly Tuttle, Michael Cleveland, Sam Bush and many others – as it is a showcase of Fleck’s still-virtuoso level talent.

But as much as My Bluegrass Heart is an album for a bluegrass band, we would be hard pressed to call it a bluegrass album (in the best possible way). As he has done countless times before, Fleck effectively breaks every rule and pushes every boundary by surrounding himself with fellow legendary rule breakers, creating something wholly beautiful and unique in the process. — Amy Reitnouer Jacobs

A Tribute to Bill Monroe, The Infamous Stringdusters

Bluegrass loves a “back to bluegrass” album, no matter how far an artist or band may or may not have traveled from bluegrass before coming back to it. On A Tribute to Bill Monroe, the Infamous Stringdusters cement ‘80s and ‘90s ‘grass – “mash” and its subsidiaries – as an ancestor to the current generation of jamgrass. Or, at the very least, it cements that these two modern forms of bluegrass cooperatively evolved. It’s crisp, driving, bouncing bluegrass that’s as much traditional as it isn’t. Sounds like quintessential Stringdusters, doesn’t it? Their collective and individual personalities ooze through the Big Mon’s material, which is what we all want cover projects to do, in the end: Cast classics in a new light, into impossibly complicated refractions. And, in this case, infusing postgrass sensibilities back into the bluegrass forms that birthed them. — Justin Hiltner

Race Records, Miko Marks & the Resurrectors

One of the best bluegrass albums of the year most likely would not be “binned” as bluegrass, and that this album is titled Race Records demonstrates exactly why. Miko Marks returns to the primordial ooze aesthetic of country, old-time, blues and bluegrass — without a whiff of essentialism — and accomplishes a Bristol Sessions or ‘40s-era Grand Ole Opry sound that’s as firmly anchored in the present as it is elemental. Marks’ musical perspective has always highlighted her awareness that the death of genre, as it were, is nothing new, but a return to the traditions that birthed all of these roots genres, many of which can be attributed to the exact communities race records originally sought to erase. Marks & the Resurrectors joyfully and radically occupy songs and space on Race Records. The result is as light and carefree as it is profound; it’s devastatingly singular yet feels like a sing along. All quintessential elements of bluegrass and country. — Justin Hiltner

Dark in Here, Mountain Goats

John Darnielle sings at the velocity of a firehose torrent, and he writes songs with titles like “Let Me Bathe in Demonic Light” and “The Destruction of the Superdeep Kola Borehole Tower.” But rather than death metal, Mountain Goats play elegantly arranged folk-rock dressed up with saxophones and the occasional keyboard freak-out. Dark in Here, the best of five Mountain Goats albums released the past two years, coheres into tunefulness despite the clashing contrasts — especially “Mobile,” a gently gliding Biblical meditation on hurricane season, and also Darnielle’s prettiest song ever. Perfect for the whiplash jitters of this modern life. — David Menconi

In Defense Of My Own Happiness, Joy Oladokun

I don’t know if I’ve ever been so immediately captivated by an artist as I was when I first heard Joy Oladokun’s single, “Jordan,” earlier this year. On that song — and every other one on In Defense of My Own Happiness that I played over and over this year — her clear voice and searingly personal lyrics emerge as a calm, universal call to pursue something better, melting down her own painful past and re-molding it in the image of self-love, inner peace and … well, joy. Oladokun is indeed building her own promised land, and we’re all lucky to bear witness. — Dacey Orr Sivewright

Outside Child, Allison Russell

One might assume an album covering the subject of abuse could intimidate a listener with its potential heaviness. While Outside Child does indeed venture into the depths of those dark experiences, Allison Russell gleans profound lessons learned and treasures discovered from each and every detail of her experiences in her youth. The result is ethereal and uplifting — and a release of trauma through a bright musical experience swelling and overflowing with hope for the future. — Shelby Williamson

The Fray, John Smith

Most artists are pretty keen to play down the idea of a “lockdown record,” because they’re worried it will limit the music’s appeal or longevity. But the emotions John Smith pours into The Fray — born of that period when we were all taking stock of our lives, and wondering what to do next — will hold their currency for a long while yet. It’s honest, yes, but also pretty soothing on the ear, showcasing Smith’s fullest sound to date — both heart’s cry and soul’s balm at once. — Emma John

See You Next Time, Joshua Ray Walker

I wasn’t out after “Three Strikes.” Instead, I was all in. With the steel guitar weaving like a drunkard in a Buick, it sometimes seems like this Dallas musician’s third album is about to go off the rails, along with the lives of the people he’s created in these songs. It never does, though, and that’s a credit to Joshua Ray Walker’s commanding vocal and a willingness to bring his dry sense of humor to the country music landscape. From the pretty poser in “Cowboy” to the unsightly barfly known as “Welfare Chet,” these folks feel like true honky-tonk characters. — Craig Shelburne

Simple Syrup, Sunny War

“Tell me that I look like Nina,” sings Los Angeles singer-songwriter Sunny War in “Like Nina,” the keystone song of her fourth album, Simple Syrup. The Nina in question is, of course, Nina Simone. The look is the “same sad look in my eyes,” though in concert War often flashes a bright, disarmingly shy smile — that of a young Black artist demanding to be taken on her own, singular terms, not the terms of cultural expectations. She continues: She can’t dance like Tina, sing like Aretha, be styled like Beyoncé. But she can see injustice, seek love and respect, seek a sense of self, and sing about it, captivatingly, with her earthy voice and folk-blues-rooted fingerpicking, enhanced by a small cadre of friends led by producer Harlan Steinberger. Like Nina? No. Like Sunny War. — Steve Hochman

Sixteen Kings’ Daughters, Libby Weitnauer

There’s a new artist on the folk scene — Libby Weitnauer. Weitnauer is a fiddle player, violinist, singer and songwriter raised in East Tennessee and currently based in Nashville. Her debut EP and first solo effort, Sixteen Kings’ Daughters, was produced by Mike Robinson (Sarah Jarosz, Railroad Earth) and presents centuries-old Appalachian ballads that have been recast into a lush and unsettling sonic landscape. Weitnauer’s high lilting voice is reminiscent of Jean Ritchie, and she glides with ease atop eerie backdrops of electric guitar, bass, fiddle and pedal steel. A strong debut to say the least, and we’re excited to hear more. — Kaïa Kater

Urban Driftwood, Yasmin Williams

Watching Yasmin Williams play guitar can boggle your mind. She uses her full body to coax noise from the instrument, her fingers pounding on the strings, her feet clicking out counter rhythms in tap shoes, one hand even accompanying herself on kalimba. As impressive as her technique is, it’s less remarkable than her facility for compositions that are melodically direct yet structurally intricate. Urban Driftwood is a carefully and beautifully written album, and Williams’ songs lose none of their flair when she transfers them from the stage to the studio. Dense with earworm riffs and evocative textures, the album represents a crucial pivot away from the increasingly staid world of folk guitar, which has recently been dominated by white men indebted to the historical American Primitivism pioneered by John Fahey. Williams is opening that world up to new sounds and influences, insisting that her guitar can speak about our present moment in ways that are meaningful, moving, and subversive. — Stephen Deusner

LISTEN: Marcel Ardans, “Pencil Pusher”

Posted on by Editor

Artist: Marcel Ardans
Hometown: Prescott, Arizona
Song: “Pencil Pusher”
Album: Traitor
Release Date: October 8, 2021

In Their Words: “Nearing the end of high school, my great-grandfather Stephen Carkeek filled out a survey for his senior yearbook. It simply asked for his hobby, ambition and fate. Stephen’s answer was wrought with truth. He responded, ‘harmonica, banjo tickler and pen pusher.’ The rest of his life was spent working behind a desk. Inspired by his inability to live out his ambitions, I wrote this fiddle tune after attending my grandfather’s funeral and finding Stephen’s yearbook in a now empty house.” — Marcel Ardans

Photo credit: Nick Pagan

From Death Metal to a Fishing Boat, How Billy Strings Finds Renewal (Part 2 of 2)

Posted on by Editor

Billy Strings has had his foot on the gas since he was a teenager, bringing his prolific picking to hundreds of shows around the country each year and winning over a throng of devoted fans in the process. His bluegrass bona fides may be obvious from the outset — he’s quick to cite such greats as Bill Monroe, Doc Watson, and the Stanley Brothers as some of his first musical influences, and no honest spectator could deny his talent on the guitar and mandolin — but astute listeners will also note elements of rock, jam bands, and even heavy metal in his performances, especially as Strings bounds around the stage.

The Nashville-based, Michigan-raised musician’s latest album, Renewal, comes on the heels of an exceptional year: His Rounder Records debut, Home, won the 2020 Grammy award for Best Bluegrass Album. And even as much of the music industry was grounded from touring, his innovative approach to livestreams and digital performances moved the Pollstar Awards to dub him the Breakthrough Artist of the Pandemic. But that breakthrough was more than a decade in the making, and the forces that shaped Strings as a prodigious young picker are still at work today, pushing him creatively in the studio and on stage as well as calming him at home between gigs. Here, in the second half of our BGS Artist of the Month interview, Strings tells us about his upbringing, his latest influences, and the way he unwinds between shows.

Editor’s Note: Read the first part of our interview with Billy Strings.

BGS: Tell me about where you grew up. How do you see its impact on your work today?

Billy Strings: I was born in Lansing, Michigan on October 3, which is my grandpa’s birthday. My mother, who lived in Kentucky at the time, had gone up to Lansing to visit her dad on his birthday, and that’s when I decided to show up. [Laughs] So that’s why I was named Billy as well, because that was my grandpa’s name — I was his little birthday gift.

We lived in Morehead, Kentucky, for a couple of years before coming back home to Michigan, where I really grew up. I grew up in a little town called Muir, population 600. My dad is an incredible guitar player, so he taught me how to play. He was always showing me music when I was a little kid: Doc Watson, Bill Monroe, Lester Flatt, Earl Scruggs, Jimmy Martin, Larry Sparks, and stuff like that — a lot of good bluegrass. We’d hang out at this little campground and play music next to the river by the fire. That was my childhood, man, just sitting there picking by the river.

It was real good until I got to be a teenager and started to turn sour. I had to run off and figure out a new life. I took what my dad taught me when I was a little kid, and all of a sudden I realized that bluegrass is actually pretty sweet and people love this shit — that maybe I could do something with this; that it’s not just something that I do with my dad that I should be halfway embarrassed about.

Who are the artists that you feel really inspired by right now? And are those different than the ones that you feel like you were listening to a lot when you were a kid?

For the most part, it’s still Doc Watson — he’s the main nerve — and Bill Monroe, and Lester Flatt and Earl Scruggs, Ralph Stanley and Carter Stanley, the Stanley Brothers. But I listen to a lot of different shit. I listen to death metal, and lately, I’ve been getting into this music from Mali that Béla Fleck was showing me — some really amazing stuff. And Memphis trap: I’ve been listening to Young Dolph a bunch. There’s just an energy to it. I grew up around crack houses. I’ve seen that shit that they’re rapping about. It just gets me hyped: He’s talking about coming out of nothing and becoming a self-made millionaire. I listen to it before the shows sometimes to get myself hyped up.

You played in rock bands in high school — groups with music that might not sound a lot like what you’re doing today. Is there any lesson or anything from that time that you feel like you still turn to or still apply to the music that you make?

Yeah, performing live. I never learned how to perform in a bluegrass band. I learned how to perform in a metal band. I learned music by playing bluegrass when I was a little kid, but by the time I was doing it on stage it was in a metal band — we were headbanging and running all over the place — and I still can’t help but get into the music like that. I can’t just stand there and play.

You have been in Nashville now for a little while. Has anything that has surprised you about it, good or bad?

I really love Nashville. A lot of your favorite musicians, that’s where they live. You’ll see your favorite singer in the grocery store. I get calls for sessions, and it’s from people who I grew up listening to and who I’ve idolized for my whole life. Like Béla Fleck’s record just came out, and I played a handful of songs on that. I was so honored to play with David Grisman, and Chris Thile, Sam Bush, Stuart Duncan, and Edgar Meyer — all these cats that are just… well, I don’t feel like I’m really in that league. It really was an honor. And there’ve been several things like that! I went from listening to these cats on a record to being on a first-name basis with them… texting and being friends. It’s a trip.

What’s one thing that’s brought you joy recently?

Fishing. I love bass fishing. I grew up doing that with my dad as well, but I didn’t do it for a long time because I was so busy. When the pandemic hit, I started fishing again. I go out there in rain or shine. I just like it for the solitude. Last night, I was in front of thousands of people, and to come home and go out on my boat and be alone in nature — to check out the blue herons and the fucking ospreys, eagles, fish, everything doing its thing — it’s brought me a lot of joy, brought me down to Earth. I put my boat in at 5 o’clock in the morning when the sun is just coming up. I like being out there alone at that time of day. It’s just good for my mind.

And yet it’s so clear from your performances that interacting with listeners gives you a certain joy, too. What are the forms of feedback that you value most from your audience when you’re playing live?

Sometimes when we finish a solo, everybody starts cheering real loud, the whole place gets real loud. That feels good. But sometimes I look out there and I look around and I see individual people and I literally play to them. Last night, we played in Montana and I was looking around and there was this one dude just standing there with his beer just completely still. I didn’t even know if he was enjoying it or not. So I just walked up to the front of the stage and stared directly at him and I just started playing right to him. [Laughs] So he started laughing, and then he took a drink of his beer and started bobbing his head a little bit. I think he just started getting into it by the end of the show.

I’ll look for things like that. The audience is really in control of how I’m feeling up there. Sometimes, when they’re just on fire, I can’t help but have a good time. They feed us the energy, and we give it back to them. It’s reciprocal.

Photo credit: Jesse Faatz

These Members of the Roots Community Embraced Innovation Amid a Pandemic

Posted on by Editor

The roots music community, like the rest of the world, faced an uncertain future as the pandemic essentially wrecked everybody’s plans in 2020. However, a number of musicians and industry leaders figured out a way to navigate the uncharted waters with grace and bravery. The Bluegrass Situation invited five members of the roots community to share their thoughts on how they harnessed their creativity and embraced innovation over the last 12 months.

Billy Strings, Winner of “Breakthrough Artist of the Pandemic” at the 2021 Pollstar Awards:

It was almost kind of a welcomed break, you know? I was tired, man. We had toured our asses off and I was like, I don’t know if I can do this anymore. Then all of a sudden, this stuff happened and we got a big break. And now I realize how lucky I was. Now there’s nothing I’d like more than to be stuck in some hotel room somewhere after a gig with some random folks at 3 o’clock in the morning, just hanging out and having a good-ass time.

For one thing I wanted to get the quality [of livestreaming] better than what I could do at my house. It started with just me on my couch playing, and the next thing you know we’re doing that tour where we’re playing the Exit/In and gigs around Nashville. It was kind of cool and eerie and weird. I’m just thinking, I know there are people out there watching us, but they’re not here and I can’t see them. When you’re used to playing for crowds, it’s like, man, this sucks! [Laughs]

We did debut a lot of songs at the Capitol Theater when we did our gigs there in February. We played like 16 brand new songs when we were over there. … People will go on fan pages and say, “Holy shit, did you hear that song?!” I don’t want to pay attention too much to that, because it just feels like you’re playing for the internet, but then it is good to get a good little gauge on what songs they’re digging.

Mercy Bell, Singer-Songwriter and Cast Member of the New Documentary, The Sound of Us:

I think a fallow season is really important for everyone, or we’re producing from an empty well. Not of creativity, I think creativity is always there, but contrary to popular opinion of the tortured and manic creator, even artists need to sleep and drink eight glasses of water a day. Like all of us, I spent 2020 trying to survive. I had a nervous breakdown. I lost my job. I had a heartbreak. I turned to art, pop culture, movement, exercise, my cats, meditation, to keep me going. …

There was a period of time I didn’t know if I’d make it. I was in a pretty dark place before I got some new treatment for my mental health. I was obsessively walking 14 miles a day, really scared, really not wanting to be alive, in quarantine far from my family, unemployment wasn’t coming through. Scheduling livestreams gave me something to look forward to. Playing music to my supporters, all over the world, it made me feel less alone. I don’t know how any performance will ever beat that. We really needed each other. Singing to people gave me a reason to keep going in the most literal sense. And my supporters also kept me fed! All those $5 tips kept groceries in my fridge. And then Netflix and podcasts, Cardi B’s “WAP,” and my cat kind of saved me. It gave me something to look forward to. That’s the power of art and pop culture, and pets. It cuts through to places we can’t get to. It got me through each day, one day at a time.

Without giving too much away, The Sound of Us spotlights a variety of musicians and the incredible impact their work (or lack thereof because of COVID) has. Some of those highlighted include folks working to bring music to underprivileged neighborhoods, into prisons and hospitals, working on researching lost works of art from the Holocaust and other genocides, and of course, how musicians were affected by institutional racism and the pandemic. When I saw the screening, I cried all my eye makeup off. It’s an incredibly emotional and profound documentary. I am so proud to have been part of it.

Robert Meitus, Co-Founder and VP of Industry Development of Mandolin.com:

Roots music fans tend to have a strong connection with artists and a desire to connect frequently and deeply. Additionally, the nature of roots music itself is built around intimacy, vulnerability and honesty, so that desire for connection really runs both ways. Mandolin’s vision has always been to build a space in the digital world where the noise of the industry fades away; one where a musician and their fans can connect not only through a concert stream, but through other unique experiences like interactive/online VIP events, soundchecks and workshops with artists.

Specifically, Mandolin started with a name that is itself an acoustic instrument and a workforce full of people who had worked a lot with roots music, including among others: myself, representing as an attorney artists such as John Prine, I’m With Her, and Keb’ Mo’; Jason Wilber, longtime guitarist for John Prine; and Larry Murray, formerly of the Luck Reunion. The name and connections naturally led us to develop the roots music connections in our first year, although Mandolin’s technology and services are certainly applicable to all music genres.

I have been a bit surprised at the almost uniformly positive views about integrating streaming into the live festival experience. It helps that cameras have been in place on and around stages for many years already, largely for the IMAG projections on the sides of stages, so musicians are used to this. COVID introduced livestreaming technology and practices to the music world at a much faster rate than would have been the case otherwise, and we have all learned how technology can connect us around the world and accommodate those that may be challenged to attend an event in person. The result is that, coming out of the pandemic, I believe bluegrass and other festivals will be more interested in the hybrid livestream for all sorts of reasons. This may be a bold claim, but I would expect that almost every festival — roots or otherwise — will have a virtual experience component. Think about it: with a phone in hand, every single fan is a digital fan, whether they are streaming at home or on the festival grounds.

Jackie Venson, R&B/Soul Artist and Guitarist from Austin, Texas:

I was pretty well-versed in livestreaming pre-pandemic. I had a series called Jackie Venson Live on Thursdays, which was an effort to help sell tickets to my album release at the Paramount in Austin, Texas, in 2019. I saw the potential in it when it first came out in 2014. I attempted to livestream a concert from Berlin, Germany, but the technology just wasn’t there yet so it was a really bumpy experience. I remember feeling really grateful that the technology existed when the pandemic was ramping up so that I could keep performing once there was no option for in-person shows. There was literally nothing else to do, and when there’s nothing to do I lose my mind and default to the first thing I can think of, which in this case was filling the performance void with livestream performances.

I used my Austin City Limits TV performance as a platform for Black Lives Matter because that episode will be rerun and it’s important to me that this message doesn’t die. The response overall was positive; of course there were some naysayers but that’s why we need to keep repeating the message. During the pandemic I received overwhelming support and positive feedback from the Austin music community. Everyone was on the same page and it seems as though things are changing for the better. I will absolutely continue to stream from home when possible, and I plan to livestream some of my shows from the road for those who want or need to stay home. I think livestreaming will be a staple in the world of live music. It makes live shows accessible to those who are unable to come out due to economic, accessibility, or other issues. (Read the BGS interview.)

Aengus Finnan, Executive Director of Folk Alliance International:

Everything was upside down last year, but the greatest challenge was envisioning and delivering an event we had never done, with half the staff, all new software, no roadmap, and little sense of whether anyone would want to gather online 11 months into a Zoomed-out pandemic. Being able to offer a sliding scale registration fee, including free, was absolutely necessary given how hard hit our community was, and despite that approach, we exceeded our modest revenue goals to cover the costs of the new online systems we used. The most rewarding element was definitely having new artists and industry join us for the first time, and to see a sharp increase in BIPOC and marginalized community representation across all panels. That happened because we were able to extend invitations to participate in more accessible ways. We were also thrilled to finally provide honorariums to all panelists this year, which we are committed to continuing.

Personally, it’s a joy to see FAI play a part in curating, commissioning, and compensating artists for meaningful new content and partnerships, which is the central aim of our Artist In Residence program — playfully renamed Artists in (Their) Residences this year for the pandemic. There were certainly some artists we approached who simply don’t do co-writes, some for whom the online process felt odd, and others who, while flattered, were simply too busy with other projects or recordings. But for the most part, there was instant interest, especially when they knew that one of their peers had selected or recommended them. The cross-border collaboration as part of a bigger collective project, reflecting on a traumatic year, with the added element of raising awareness for The Village Fund to support the community rang a lot of “count me in” bells.

We are already full steam ahead with a hybrid event this year, and we’re not looking back. Our focus will naturally be on ensuring that the in-person event is top-notch and delivers the experience we all know and love, but there are thousands of people who can’t attend each year, for myriad reasons, and providing online content, as well as live-streamed and interactive content enables more community engagement, participation, and inclusion, and builds bridges and connections that folks will use as an entry point leading to the growth of our genre and industry. While daunting, we’re excited about the opportunity to innovate what we do and offer, and who we can reach.

Photo of Billy Strings by Emma Delevante

They’ve Got You Covered: 10 Tributes You Need to Hear

Posted on by Justin Hiltner

2020 was a year of many things – COVID-19, existential elections, the shuttering of the music industry, and on and on – but one common, non-catastrophic throughline of the musical variety was cover songs. Many musicians and artists, finding themselves with more free time than usual and more standard-fare albums and cross-continental tours back-burnered, took the opportunity to explore live records, collaborations, and yes, covers. From Molly Tuttle to Wynonna, livestreams to socially-distanced shows, covers became an unofficial pandemic pastime. 

Now, in 2021, many of these cover projects conceived and created in 2020 have made it to store shelves – digital and otherwise – and we’ve collected ten tributes worth a listen:

Shannon McNally covers Waylon Jennings

It’s fitting that Shannon McNally released The Waylon Sessions on Compass Records, whose headquarters now occupies “Hillbilly Central.” As Tompall Glaser’s former studio, the building helped give rise to country’s outlaw movement and it’s where Waylon himself recorded. With guests like Jessi Colter, Buddy Miller, Rodney Crowell, and Lukas Nelson, the project recontextualizes Waylon Jennings’ material, which is usually associated with hyper-masculine wings of the country scene. As McNally puts it in a press release, “What Waylon Jennings brought to country music is what country music needs right now, and that unapologetic and vulnerable sense of self are what women are tapping into artistically right now as the industry evolves.” 

Steve Earle covers Justin Townes Earle

Many a musical child has covered their parents’ catalogs in retrospect, but it’s rare that we see the reverse. A gorgeous, gutting, and laid-bare album, Steve Earle’s J.T. is a ten-song tribute to his son, Justin Townes Earle, who passed away suddenly in August 2020, shocking the Americana and folk communities. Earle’s signature emotion bristles and crackles throughout the project, giving Justin Townes’ songs an even stronger quality of visceral electricity. Proceeds from the album will go to a trust for Etta St. James Earle, Justin Townes’ daughter and Steve’s granddaughter. 

The Infamous Stringdusters cover Bill Monroe

Spread out from North Carolina to Colorado and beyond, the Infamous Stringdusters utilized home recording from their respective studios during the pandemic to accomplish musical creativity their jam-packed schedule hadn’t really allowed in the “before times.” Their brand new EP, A Tribute to Bill Monroe, returns the virtuosic jamgrass outfit to territory familiar to those who first found the group when they were cutting their teeth, striding out from traditional bluegrass into the vast, expansive newgrass-and-jamgrass unknown. The project illustrates that the true strength of this ensemble is found in utilizing traditional bluegrass aesthetics for their own creative purposes. For example, you might listen through the entire record without realizing the Stringdusters made a Bill Monroe tribute album without mandolin!

Mandy Barnett covers Billie Holiday

Mandy Barnett is a cross-genre chameleon; between her talent, her voice’s timeless Americana tinge, and her appetite for classics — from Nashville staples to the American songbook — she often finds herself reaching far beyond Music Row and classic country to R&B, standards, and in her most recent release, Billie Holiday covers. Every Star Above was recorded in 2019, pre-pandemic, and includes ten songs from Holiday’s 1958 Lady in Satin album – songs previously also covered by Frank Sinatra, Dinah Washington, and many, many others. The project feels akin to Linda Ronstadt’s pop and big band forays, never fully detached from Barnett’s country roots, but built atop their solid foundation. In another Ronstadt-esque move, Barnett partnered with recently departed jazz arranger Sammy Nestico; Every Star Above was the award-winning composer’s final project.

Charley Crockett covers James Hand

Country-western crooner Charley Crockett is truly prolific, having released nine full-length albums in the past six years. As the story goes, before his friend, acclaimed Texan singer-songwriter James “Slim” Hand passed away unexpectedly about a year ago, Crockett promised he would record his songs. “Lesson in Depression” captures the sly, winking quality of the best sort of sad-ass country, which isn’t burdened by its own melodrama. While it’s certain Crockett (as Tanya Tucker would put it) would have rather brought Slim his flowers while he was living, there’s a poignancy in how 10 For Slim – Charley Crockett Sings James Hand, like Earle’s J.T., immediately demonstrates how these impactful musical legacies will live on.

Lowland Hum cover Peter Gabriel

Lowland Hum’s album covering Peter Gabriel’s So — which they’ve cutely and aptly entitled So Low — began as a passing joke, but the folk duo of husband-and-wife Daniel and Lauren Goans followed the passion and fun that led them to Gabriel’s hit 1986 release, quickly unspooling the passing whim into inspiration for a full-blown project. “We already loved the iconic record, but in translating Gabriel’s melodies and otherworldly arrangements,” they explain on their website, “we fell even deeper in love with the songs, Gabriel’s voice, and his uncanny ability to fully inhabit both vulnerability and playfulness…” Their “quiet music,” minimalist approach is well suited to the material and the entire project is incredibly listenable, comforting, and subtly envelope-pushing.

Chrissie Hynde covers Bob Dylan

After The Bard released “Murder Most Foul” and “I Contain Multitudes” early in 2020 (and in the pandemic) founder, singer, songwriter, and guitarist for The Pretenders Chrissie Hynde was inspired to once again revisit Dylan’s catalog – a limitless fount of material with which she was already intimately familiar. Her new album, Standing in the Doorway, features nine Dylan tracks recorded with fellow Pretenders guitarist James Walbourne – almost exclusively via text message – and for their coronavirus YouTube video series. Hynde opts for deeper cuts, showcasing her affinity for swaths of Dylan’s career often overlooked by other would-be cover-ers. This classic, “Tomorrow is a Long Time,” feels appropriately sentimental and longing, a perfect encapsulation of the day-to-day of the realities of the pandemic, filtered through a Bob Dylan lens and Hynde’s distinctive voice. 

Various Artists cover John Lilly

John Lilly is a songwriter’s songwriter. Based in West Virginia, his original music has been covered by modern legends like Tim O’Brien, Kathy Mattea, and Tom Paxton. April In Your Eyes: A Tribute to the Songs of John Lilly gathers various artists from the folk, old-time, and bluegrass communities – in West Virginia and otherwise – spotlighting the incredible depth and breadth of Lilly’s catalog. The title track is stunningly rendered by Maya de Vitry and Ethan Jodziewicz, who were connected with Lilly originally through West Virginia’s iconic old-time pickers’ gathering affectionately referred to as “Clifftop.” Paxton, O’Brien, and Mattea all make appearances on the project, as do Brennen Leigh & Noel McKay, Bill Kirchen, and many other members of Lilly’s musical family and inner circle, giving the project an intentional and intimate resonance.

American Aquarium cover ’90s Country Hits

BJ Barham’s American Aquarium dropped a surprise album, Slappers, Bangers, & Certified Twangers: Volume One in May. Featuring ten covers of some of the band’s favorite ‘90s country hits, it’s a dose of all-star-tribute-concert packaged in a pandemic-friendly stay-at-home-form – and available on John Deere Green vinyl, of course. One particularly sad casualty of the coronavirus pandemic has been these sorts of musical nostalgia bombs – when was the last time any of us attended a theme night or tribute show at say, the Basement East in Nashville or Raleigh, NC’s The Brewery? – and Slappers, Bangers, & Certified Twangers has us in the mood to attend the first ‘90s country covers live show possible now that things are finally reopening.

Various Artists cover John Prine

A year without Prine seems far, far too long to travel with such a Prine-shaped hole in our musical hearts. But his presence and legacy certainly still loom large; the Prine family has announced “You Got Gold: Celebrating the Life & Songs of John Prine,” a series of special concerts and events held across various venues in Nashville in October. Oh Boy Records is also planning to release a new tribute record, Broken Hearts and Dirty Windows: Songs of John Prine, Vol. 2, to coincide with You Got Gold. The first two tracks from the project that have already been unveiled feature Sturgill Simpson performing “Paradise” and Brandi Carlile’s rendition of “I Remember Everything,” which you can hear above. Each month until October, the Prine family and Oh Boy will release another song from the project, unveiling special guests who each pay tribute to Prine, his songs, and the enormous vacuum his loss has left in the roots music industry.

 

LISTEN: Leftover Salmon, “Boogie Grass Band”

Posted on by Editor

Artist: Leftover Salmon
Hometown: Boulder, Colorado
Song: “Boogie Grass Band”
Album: Brand New Good Old Days
Release Date: May 7, 2021
Label: Compass Records

In Their Words: “This old Conway Twitty song was recommended for the band by our friend Ronnie McCoury years ago. It speaks to where we sit on the musical spectrum. We love country, bluegrass and rock music and like to do them all at the same time! This song acknowledges that while taking it taking it in a uniquely Salmon direction.” — Vince Herman, Leftover Salmon

Photo credit: John-Ryan Lockman

The BGS Radio Hour – Episode 204

Posted on by Amy Reitnouer

Welcome to the BGS Radio Hour! Since 2017, the weekly show has been a recap of all the great music, new and old, featured on BGS. This week, we bring you old bluegrass newly recorded by the Infamous Stringdusters, music from our Artist of the Month, Peggy Seeger, and so much more! Remember to check back every Monday for a new episode of the BGS Radio Hour.

The Brother Brothers – “Circles”

Celebrating their upcoming Calla Lily (available April 16), Adam and David Moss of the Brother Brothers joined us on a recent 5+5. We talked John Hartford, writing music for dance, and the inspirations and songwriting techniques behind these two brothers and their new album.

Johnny Chops – “Trouble With the Truth”

Austin-based Johnny Chops brings us a song this week from his upcoming Yours, Mine and the Truth EP. This song pretty much fell out of the sky and onto Chops’ paper in his writing room one morning. The video continues to tell the story of the song, building a dark and bleak vibe through dramatic and abandoned filming locations.

Sinner Friends – “Unforgivable You”

Sinner Friends don’t just sound like vintage bluegrass: they record like it too, down to just a few microphones, no editing, everything done right then and there. Recorded and released by Bigtone Records, the result is on par with those early bluegrass recordings that defined the genre. This week, they bring us a song from their newly released Sinner Friends Miss You (The Quarantine EP). 

Keb’ Mo’ – Yamaha x BGS Artist Session

For 2021’s Folk Alliance International and SXSW conferences, BGS teamed up with Yamaha to film performances from some of the artists we’re most excited about. Our first segment is from none other than Keb’ Mo’, playing a Yamaha FGX5 – modeled after the vintage FG180, Keb’s first guitar which he unfortunately lost in the Nashville flood of 2010. Aren’t we all just waiting on the medicine man these days? Keb’ performs two songs for us, “Every Morning” and “The Action.”

The Gina Furtado Project – “Kansas City Railroad Blues”

Gina Furtado brings us the “magic fire” of the banjo on this new single, finding the sound that first made her fall in love with the instrument. It’s the latest single in an exciting and excellent batch from Furtado and Mountain Home Music Company, produced by banjo phenom Kristin Scott Benson, and accompanied by Drew Matulich, Wayne Benson, and siblings Malia and Lu Furtado.

Ervin Stellar – “Nothing to Prove”

From Grand Rapids, Michigan, Ervin Stellars joined us on a 5+5 last week – that is, 5 questions, 5 songs. We talked everything from Wes Anderson and the Coen Brothers to waves and mountains. And let’s not forget his new album, Nothing to Prove.

Mimi Naja – “All You Know of Me”

Known for her work with Fruition, Mimi Naja recently dropped Nothing Has Changed, her first solo release since 2014. We caught up with Naja to talk about songwriting, inspirations, and a dream meal pairing of Thai with Khruangbin.

Peggy Seeger – “The Invisible Woman”

Peggy Seeger is our Artist of the Month for April here at BGS! Her just-released First Farewell is a goodbye to recording and the road, but she is not leaving that lineage behind. Coming from a musical family including the likes of Pete and Mike Seeger, the traditional continues, as Seeger enlists her sons Neill and Callum MacColl on the new album. Stay tuned all month long where we’ll be featuring Peggy Seeger!

The Alex Leach Band – “The Turntable”

Alex Leach has been adored by the Eastern Tennessee bluegrass community since he first started appearing at the WDVX radio station in Knoxville as a small child. Through the years, he’s played with Ralph Stanley, hosts a weekly show on WDVX, and now has his newest endeavor, The Alex Leach Band, who just released their latest album (produced by Jim Lauderdale), I’m the Happiest When I’m Moving. 

Acoustic Syndicate – “Sunny”

Acoustic Syndicate has been making music in Western North Carolina’s jamband scene for over two decades, but their latest studio endeavor is the first in seven years. “Sunny” is a promising first release with Organic Records, the band joined by Brian Felix on piano and Lyndsay Pruett on violin.

Elizabeth King – “Living in the Last Days”

Memphis-based Elizabeth King brings us this deeply thought number this week from her latest album of the same title. “Living in the Last Days” is about the trouble that so casually surrounds our current days, and King sings about it with a lot of conviction. The song should inspire us all to look a little more closely at what surrounds us, and what we can do to make this world a better place for all.

Bobby Osborne – “White Line Fever”

“White Line Fever” was a hit for Merle Haggard in the 60s, but had never been cut as a bluegrass song. That is, until Alison Brown and Bobby Osborne got a hold of it. One thing leading to another, and Jeff Tweedy wrote a second verse about Bobby (being the voice of Rocky Top) and his 60 years on the road as a musician. Mixing all of this with some A-list bluegrass musicians like Sierra Hull and Stuart Duncan, well… this is the result! As Brown says, “it was hard to believe the song hadn’t been a bluegrass standard all along.”

Cha Wa – “My People”

Joseph Boudreaux Jr, vocalist for Cha Wa, teaches us about ‘ancestral recall’ with this song, a phenomenon where people consciously or subconsciously draw on the experiences and lives of their ancestors to perpetuate a certain lifestyle or culture. “‘My People’ reminds us that no matter who you are — rich or poor, big or small — we’re all in this together as humans,” Boudreaux told BGS. “Cause one day we gon’ all be in the same boat.”

Photos: (L to R) Keb’ Mo’; Gina Furtado by Sandlin Gaither; Peggy Seeger by Vicki Sharp