Amanda Shires Calls Country Out on the Carpet

The slogan tee has been around for a minute, but lately they have evolved from funny pop culture references — “My neck, my back, my Netflix, and my snacks” tee comes to mind — to thought-provoking and political statements. Some of my personal favorites include Third Man’s “Icky Trump” tee, Midnight Rider’s “Nasty Woman” tee, Rorey Carroll’s “DIY Choice” tee, and Amanda Shires’ “Nashville Sound” tee. They’ve even found a place in high-end fashion. Dior’s artistic director, Maria Grazia Chiuri, sent models down the runway wearing the titles of two different feminist texts, “Why Have There Been No Great Women Artists” and “We should all be feminists.”

Slogan tees are a portable billboard, allowing wearers to open up a dialogue about issues that are often ignored. So, whether this latest trend has you rolling your eyes or loading up your shopping cart, you can’t deny its success in sparking curiosity and conversations this past year.

Singer/Songwriter Amanda Shires knows how to get a message across and she did just that earlier this month at the 2017 CMA awards. Ditching the request for formal attire, Shires stood tall on the red carpet wearing heels, fishnets, a pencil skirt, and a mauve tank top with lyrics “Mama wants to change that Nashville sound” (from Jason Isbell’s “White Man’s World” off The Nashville Sound) printed across the front. These lyrics acknowledge the struggle female artists face in mainstream country music, and Shires felt there was no better place to display this message than at the CMA Awards.

In order to keep the conversation of gender inequality rolling, I sat down with Amanda and asked her a few questions.

Earlier this month you wore a tank top to the CMAs with Jason Isbell‘s lyric “Mama wants to change that Nashville sound.” Why do you feel those lyrics were important to wear to the CMAs?

I feel like it’s important because I feel like there’s room to let more women’s voices be heard and there’s not enough being done about it in the moment we’re in right now.

What is the change you would like to make in the “Nashville sound”?

I mean, ideally it would be equality — the number of female singers to male singers being played on the radio. A shorter distance in the earnings between the two sexes, but that would have to start higher up because the industry is still being run by old-ass white dudes, and you know it could use a lot more women, a lot more people of color, it could use a lot more as far as diversity goes.

I listened to the radio
 and, out of 28 songs, I heard two women voices and one of them happens to be in a band that also has male singers, and I feel like that’s a step, but there are a lot of steps to go from. Okay one of the problems, one of the defenses that country radio stations have is “There aren’t requests for female singers,” and that’s a weird cycle, a weird catch-22 because if there were more women being played, then the audience would have more women to choose from as far as requests goes, but as it is, you can really only name two if you’re just a general country listener. Whether or not it changes, I mean, TBD.

We have to try and speak up for one another and try to do it together.

When you wore that tank, you were voicing a desired change for equality in a male-dominated genre. Do you think the lyric was also written with other country music minorities in mind?

I don’t know because I didn’t write it, but I do know that it applies to me, and that’s why I feel I can pirate that and take it to be mine because, whoever said it or wrote it first, Jason Isbell, that’s fine, but it is also like, “Oh cool. There’s a guy out there actually thinking about that, too.” It’s good to know there are more socially aware and empathetic persons out there than just those of us who are struggling.

I know that we can stand to see more diversity than just being a woman vs man struggle. I don’t even it’s like a versus — I think it’s just a thing that exists. I think if there was more education and more thoughtfulness in what was being played on the radio and not treating ladies like they’re a garnish or tomatoes on a salad, we could be getting a lot further. I feel like country music is behind the times in a lot of ways. Pop, rock, hip-hop … they play lots of ladies. Country? Behind. That’s not even talking about the musical part, which needs to change, too.

Country music subject matter is lame these days, too. That’s another soapbox, but part of the change we need. We can’t wear a tank top and skirt to an awards show while a guy wears a tee shirt and jeans? “Oh my God, someone call the E! Online!”

Do you feel your message was well received at the CMA Awards?

At the CMA Awards? I don’t know, but I know as far as fans of my work and people that are like-minded, it was well received. I don’t really hang out with industry folks, so who knows?

Why do you think E! chose to focus on the outfit being inappropriate and Rolling Stone chose to focus on the statement?

Because E! is base. Rolling Stone, I think Rolling Stone knows what time it is. E!’s not credible. No one thinks “Oh, I should listen to what they think of someone’s style opinions.”

You mentioned earlier about how the woman’s role in country music has changed a little, but is still stuck in 1957.

Yeah.

Kelly Garcia, Amanda Shires, Ledja Cobb, and Dave Cobb at the CMA Awards.

What do you think are the steps needed to progress a little bit (or a lot!) more here?

Women championing other women. So much in music is, “Oh, how do you explain it?” Say that there are 10 slots for you to make a top 10 record. They give one, if you’re lucky, to a female. And all the girls are fighting for this one spot, so naturally they’re sort of like, “Oh no, if this person gets it, that means I’m less than,” but it’s not that way. Everybody who makes something great is worthy of a spot. It’s just they don’t make enough spots.

I would say for every time they play that Keith Urban “Female” song, which this article is not about that, they should probably spin three-to-five female artists directly following, if that’s the message that they are trying to send. If Urban is really wanting to do something, he should probably really do it. I really hope folks aren’t treating this idea as a trend, and I really hope the ultimate goal isn’t to monetize this important shit. Because right now, to me, it feels a lot like, “Oh, this is a cool trend to follow. This is what they want. I’m gonna go cash in on that right now.”

Other steps would be to hire women engineers etc. I know a few engineers and women producers. I don’t know.

What role do you think listeners/fans have in raising awareness and affecting change?

Just have the conversation… They can call their radio stations and complain when women aren’t being played. They can count the songs and write down who sang them and have proof when questions are asked. They can also go support live lady artists. A lot of people claim that they don’t like a female voice. Well, it’s just they haven’t heard enough of them. Everybody likes fucking Joni Mitchell. Yeah call in, make things happen like that. Actually support live music because as hard as it is for a parent, a mother or father, to go out and see live music, pay to park the car, and buy dinner and all that, it’s the same amount of difficulty for a woman who is a performer with a child and all that kind of stuff.

I think to make a difference you have to be active and you have to actively participate within your community further than just messaging on social media. That’s not enough. You have to participate. You have to actively support and actively show up. You might get to bed an hour later, but you’re doing something. Anything you can do to support is good past being on a screen. I think that being in the moment and showing up with your physical self — body  or whatever I don’t know — means more and it’s more noticeable.

The 400 Unit: Gets Ready to Rock

Before there’s sound, lights, or friendly stage banter, there’s stage wear setting the tone for the performance. Whether it’s sporting jeans and a tee or showing up dressed to the nines night after night, what a musician chooses to wear on stage says a thing or two about themselves and mood of the night.

I have an appreciation for everything from the understated and functional to the over-the-top wardrobe decisions of an artist/band. One band that always delivers an unforgettable performance while looking handsome as hell is the 400 Unit. I caught up with the guys earlier this month during their impressive six-night run backing Jason Isbell at Nashville’s beloved Ryman Auditorium and got a behind-the-scenes experience of their rituals and wardrobe choices. 

“No one ever gave me any advice on stage wear. I’ve been touring since I was 18 years old, so I pretty much learned as I went. I think it’s important to dress how you feel and, also, if you like a vintage look, don’t go too far; still try to remain in the current time you’re living in, as best you can.” — Sadler Vaden, guitar

Clothing Superstitions 
I like to have my coin necklace that belonged to my mother, who is deceased. I feel a sense of comfort and a relaxing energy when I wear it.

Pre-show Ritual
Lately, my pre-show ritual has been getting the guitar out and singing any song while Jimbo sings the high harmony.

Stage Wear Essential
I find that a good pair of black Levi’s jeans are essential for any rocker. You can make those work in any situation you’re in, if you need to look sharp or casual

Never leave for tour without … one good pair of comfortable socks.

“When I was 19 or so, and playing in a couple of different working bands in college, one of my gigs was in a blues band. For every other gig I did, it was pretty much anything goes, as they were college bands playing whatever was popular at the time. But my blues gig was always way more serious and professional. It was then that I realized that fashion had a place in what I was doing. Playing blues festivals and juke joints around the South put me around a culture of musicians who dressed their best, no matter what the gig. Admittedly, I don’t always go full-on dapper, but when I do …” — Chad Gamble, drums

Clothing Superstitions
As a drummer, I tend to stay away from things like long sleeves, coats, and slick boots. Plenty of drummers are able to pull those things off, but it only increases the possibility of disaster for me. Sticks getting caught in shirt cuffs and feet sliding around pedals are true wardrobe malfunctions. 

Pre-show Ritual
I pace. Endlessly. 

Stage Wear Essential
I wear hats when I play. I’m not vain enough to think that it makes me look better, but the truth is, I have the propensity to sweat when I play … a lot. If I were in Dire Straits or something, I might wear a sweat band, but hats serve that purpose well enough for me and look better, in my opinion. 

Never leave for tour without … Downy Wrinkle Release. 

“I don’t remember anyone giving me any particular advice about how to dress for the stage, but it was during my time in Son Volt that I figured things out for myself. That was my first professional gig and it was the first time I wasn’t begging my friends to come see me play because there was an audience already there for that band. A lot of them were paying good money for tickets and for a ‘show.’ Suddenly, you’re not just a musician; you’re a performer.” — Derry deBorja, keys and accordion

Clothing Superstitions
I used to wear a tie the night a show sold out. It was mustard yellow and probably lost somewhere in my closet. No real superstition behind it. It became a kind of game. Made it easier to decide what to wear on some given nights.

Pre-show Ritual
I go to the bathroom a lot. I drink a lot of water.

Stage Wear Essential
Combat boots are my new essential. You can wear them anywhere with pretty much anything, both on and off the stage. Very handy for touring as it makes for a lighter suitcase.

Never leave for tour without … either a camera, an audio recorder, or a pen and paper. Also, never leave for tour without cleaning up your place before you leave. Trust me.

“I can’t recall anyone specifically giving any advice on stage wear. I’d always heard that Hank Williams once said that, if you’re gonna stand in front of an audience to entertain them, you have to dress better than them. That piece of advice gets more expensive every year!” — Jimbo Hart, bass

Clothing Superstitions
I once had a fedora that I acquired while on the road with a band that didn’t end well, and I held on to that fedora … until I started almost having automotive incidents every single time I wore it. I started to believe that it was cursed, somehow. Derry and I had to go to St. Louis one time to get some of his gear, and I told him about the hat the morning we were leaving. He called me crazy and then we got in the van to leave and, sure enough, we almost got hit head-on. I tossed that fedora out the window somewhere on I-55 and, thankfully, no more near-collisions.

Pre-show Ritual
Besides making sure all pockets are empty, save a few picks, the only pre-show ritual that seems to happen every single night is me asking Derry if my clothes are okay. He always shoots me straight.

Stage Wear Essential
I wear a lot of hats. I call them essential because they cover up my lack of good hair. Also, I have a thin, aluminum bracelet that a friend gave me with ‘Sweet Home Alabama’ inscribed on it that I wear all the time (on and off stage) to remind me of where I’m from and the people who made me who I am.

Never leave for tour without … at least one awesome pair of boots. They always work with jeans, and you never know when you’ll actually need their functionality. It’s more often than one might imagine.

MIXTAPE: Derek Hoke’s Tunes from $2 Tuesday

Back in 2010, the 5 Spot in Nashville was known for two things — the Monday night dance party and the Wednesday night Old Time Jam. They were both very popular weekly events.
But Tuesdays were a dead zone. Either the venue was closed or a haphazard show or writer’s night was thrown together. Most of the time it was just me and a few other local musicians hanging out at the bar.

Those musicians just hanging out? Caitlin Rose, Margo Price, and Ricky Young (The Wild Feathers).

So, I tried to think of a way to get those people on stage and do something fun, without making it a big deal. Take the “business” out of the music business. It took a while to catch on, but over time, we all started having fun with the opportunity to play music with zero pressure.

The key was to do this every week. I booked five acts who each got to play five songs each. I tried focusing on booking a diverse set of acts — I really wanted it to be a variety of styles. That was the hard part. I had to get new people involved. I had to get musicians to come to the 5 Spot to play a few songs for no money and a very small audience. So I made it about the neighborhood: East Nashville. It was something for “us.” I had to get people to think about it like a live rehearsal for their new band — a place to try out some new tunes — and it had to be fun. I’d play a set every week with my newly formed band and act as emcee. Co-owner Todd Sherwood and I came up with the name “$2 Tuesday.” Local brewery Yazoo got on board as a sponsor, and we were off and running. I saw it as an East Nashville night club act that happened every week.

Who’s on the bill doesn’t matter. $2 Tuesday is the show. There’s no opener and no headliner. I just want the music to be good. Now that we can charge $2 at the door, I can pay everyone a little something for their time and talent. That feels good.

Two things eventually happened that solidified the format of each Tuesday: A band called the Clones (now Los Colognes) moved to town and started playing a lot of late-night sets on Tuesdays. Also, my friend Tim Hibbs brought his turntables to play records in between acts. Now I had an Ed McMahon to my Johnny Carson …

The first few years saw acts like Corey Chisel (who was living in Nashville at the time) and a virtually unknown Jason Isbell play some tunes. Peter Buck of R.E.M. sat in on bass one night. The newly termed “Late Night” slot gave an opportunity for longer sets. Folks like Hayes Carll would take that slot to run through a tour set. Shovels & Rope packed the place for a sneak peak of their new material. Over the years, we’ve hosted Nikki Lane, Sunday Valley (Sturgill Simpson), Bobby Bare Jr., Nicole Atkins, Lydia Loveless, All Them Witches, Lloyd Cole, Robyn Hitchcock, Margo Price, and on and on. All of this done without posters or fanfare. No Facebook invites or business contracts. Just word of mouth. A “you had to be there” type of show. Tuesdays have become a night to get turned on to new music of all kinds. Songwriters from all over the country, bluegrass acts, touring and local rock bands looking for a show. We’ve even had hip-hop and comedy acts. That’s what I’ve always loved about Tuesdays. It’s just this little thing that grew into something really special. All of this for just two bucks.

People from all over the world have come to $2 Tuesdays at The 5 Spot. I never imagined that. When I travel to other cities, people there have heard of it. It still blows my mind. Each week, with a big smile on my face, I ask the audience, “Are you getting your $2 worth?” After seven years, I’d say the answer is, “Yes.” — Derek Hoke

Cory Chisel — “Never Meant to Love You”

Cory lived in Nashville for a short time. Couch surfing in between tours. He came by $2 Tuesday to show us all how it’s really done. Still one of my favorite songs. 

Jason Isbell — “Alabama Pines”

I was working with Jason’s manager at the time. She brought him by a $2 Tuesday, and I asked him if he’d like to do a couple of tunes. Pretty sure the bartender was the only other person that knew who he was. A couple of years later, the whole world would know. 

Buffalo Clover — “Hey Child”

Before she was “Margo Price,” she and her husband Jeremy were rocking soulful tunes like this one. This song really floored me the first time I heard it. Powerful. Margo was (and still is) part of the little 5 Spot crew that makes the East Nashville music scene so special. 

Shovels & Rope — “Birmingham”

I first met Cary Ann Hearst at a $2 Tuesday. We were talking about South Carolina, where I’m from. Had no idea she lived in Charleston. I thought she lived down the street! Little did I know that Charleston had a killer burgeoning music scene going on. They played the Late Night slot a few weeks later. Still one of the best sets I’ve ever seen. So much beauty and soul. You wouldn’t think just two people could make a sound so strong. 

Robyn Hitchcock — “Somebody to Break Your Heart”

First time I ever did a double take at $2 Tuesday was when Robyn walked in. He’s just so unmistakably “Robyn Hitchcock.” I grew up listening to his records. He’d come by and sit in with bands. Do some Dylan tunes. My band and I would back him on some Elvis stuff. He’d do his own tunes. He quickly became a fixture around the neighborhood. Now I see him at the coffee shop down the street all the time. Always makes my day. Such a unique talent and very kind person. East Nashville is lucky to have him. 

Lloyd Cole — “Myrtle and Rose”

Another blast from my musical past. Lloyd came on board via $2 Tuesday DJ Tim Hibbs. Lloyd had been on Tim’s radio show earlier that day and he asked him to stop by. We all had the pleasure of hearing him play some new tunes, as well as guest DJing the night. A very memorable evening. 

The Wild Feathers — “If You Don’t Love Me”

Ricky Young is one of the most talented people I know. In typical music biz fashion, he would sell out the Exit/In, then two months later be waiting tables again. Then he went to California. When he came back, he brought the Wild Feathers with him. Sweet harmonies and killer tunes. They played $2 Tuesday before their debut record was released. Great live band. And great guys, too. 

Adia Victoria — “Mortimer’s Blues”
Adia made her $2 Tuesday debut accompanied by local pianist Micah Hulscher. A quiet, captivating performance. Stark. Raw. Beautiful. Retro, yet modern. A true artist. 

Los Colognes — “Working Together”
When they moved from Chicago to East Nashville, they were calling themselves the Clones. A group of super-talented and endearing dudes, they quickly became a $2 Tuesday staple. Playing the Late Night sets and garnering attention. Their brand of bluesy rock ‘n’ roll was just what this singer/songwriter town needed. A breath of fresh air. 

Nicole Atkins — “If I Could”
Nicole’s backing band consists of a lot of former 5 Spot employees. That goes for numerous other acts, too, now that I think about it. Nicole kind of has it all. Great singer, wonderful performer, and an amazing songwriter. She put on a stellar show for her $2 Tuesday Late Night set. 

Hayes Carll — “Hard Out Here”
Hayes was in town writing for his new record, at the time. He was also getting ready for a tour. His band met him in East Nashville, and they put on a killer set at $2 Tuesday for those lucky enough to be there that night. 

3×3: India Ramey on Drinking Caffeine, Deviling Eggs, and Enjoying Life

Artist: India Ramey
Hometown: Born in Rome, GA, but I claim Birmingham, AL
Latest Album: Snake Handler
Personal Nicknames: “Indie.” My grandaddy called me that. My sisters called me “Tush” (long story) and “Indiana Banana Copa Cabana.” There are many more, but in the interest of brevity …

 

#womansmarchonwashington

A post shared by India Ramey (@indiarameymusic) on

What song do you wish you had written?

“Hold On Hold On” by Neko Case

Who would be in your dream songwriter round?

Jason Isbell, Neko Case, Loretta Lynn, and Johnny Cash.

If you could only listen to one artist’s discography for the rest of your life, whose would you choose?

Neko Case. Without question.

 

My plans for the evening #mrbaby #bobsburgers #snoozefest #motherofkittens

A post shared by India Ramey (@indiarameymusic) on

How often do you do laundry?

Does that in include pulling stuff out of the dirty clothes bin and fluffing it in the dryer with a fabric softener sheet? Not often enough, clearly.

What was the last movie that you really loved?

Kill Bill (both)

If you could re-live one year of your life, which would it be and why?

Last year. I would have spent less time worrying and more time enjoying it.

 

Woa!! I made the Nashville Scene! That’s me to the left of the chicken!

A post shared by India Ramey (@indiarameymusic) on

What’s your go-to comfort food?

Biscuits.

Kombucha — love it or hate it?

I had to Google that. If it’s got caffeine, I’m out.

Mustard or mayo?

Both. You can’t make a decent deviled egg without both.


Photo credit: Greg Roth

Jason Isbell: Finding the Common Ground

No one really knows who actually watches Today in Nashville, a newsmagazine show that comes on at 11 am and usually includes segments featuring local chefs making seasonal cocktails, barbeque tips, and probably a few cute and/or furry pets. It’s the kind of program that makes Nashville still feel like a small town, full of random snippets and Southern quirk — something nearly prehistoric in the post-Trump, Twitter-rage-filled America, where a quaint five minutes dedicated to, say, an ice cream truck, strikes as indulgent. Who tunes in to that sort of thing? Well, Jason Isbell, for one.

“I get a big kick out of this show,” says Isbell, calling from his home in the country right outside of Nashville, where he’s been watching: This morning, he learned about peanut-free day at the ballpark and squat techniques from Erin Oprea, Carrie Underwood’s trainer. “They just try to fill the space with local Nashville color every day, and it just cracks me up.”

It makes sense, really, that Isbell is drawn to Today in Nashville — there’s perhaps no better working student of local color, in all its permutations, than the Alabama native, who released his most recent album, The Nashville Sound, last month. It’s a collection of songs that don’t take the gifts of humanity at face value: love in the context of death, privilege amongst suffering, hope in a world on a collision course with an irreparable future. Much has been made about this being Isbell at his most “political,” but, really, it’s an LP that studies the causes and not the effects. Isbell is a listener, not a screamer, and as the Trump era has divided the country more than ever, he’s looking to understand why we got here, and not just point fingers. Isbell’s characters might be wanderers in small towns or coal miners looking for peace at the bottom of a glass, but he’s more interested in what he might have in common with them than what he doesn’t.

“This album, I wanted to stay away from a lot of the same type of reflection I did on Southeastern,” Isbell says about his breakthrough LP, which was followed by 2015’s Grammy-winning Something More Than Free. “But I also wanted it to be personal or reveal parts of myself that were frightening and were scary to reveal. And that came across in songs people might describe as having a political slant or agenda. I don’t think political is right: That’s not very interesting to me. What’s interesting to me is belief.”

“Belief,” after all, is a potent potion — especially since beliefs are often digested outside of a moral code. Isbell hasn’t been shy on social media about his stance on Mr. Trump’s policies (Spoiler: He is not in favor of them.), but The Nashville Sound is not the work of just an angry man; it’s the work of one who knows that human beings are complicated, confusing things who don’t always make the right choices, but not always for the reason you think. It’s a challenge to both criticize and empathize at the same time, and that’s what Isbell can do so artfully, by finding freedoms amongst flaws.

“Writing songs about race and gender, that’s a minefield,” says Isbell about tracks like “White Man’s World,” which take an honest stock of the privilege bestowed upon people simply born a certain skin color and sex. “One false move, and I am a laughing stock. One tiny little ignorance of privilege, and I am screwed. So you have to be very, very careful. And careful in a way to represent yourself correctly. You have to start out believing in the right things, and then you have to tell people that in the clearest way. That’s a great exercise, but it’s scary.”

On “White Man’s World,” Isbell doesn’t just try to offer apologies to people of color or to women — he takes it one step further. And that’s by admitting that there are layers that he doesn’t see, bias he might not even realize: “I’m a white man living in a white man’s world,” he sings. “Under our roof is a baby girl. I thought this world could be hers one day, but her mama knew better.”

That baby girl he sings about is Mercy, his daughter with wife and 400 Unit bandmate Amanda Shires. The album, produced by Dave Cobb, isn’t a “dad” record, but it is shaped by Mercy’s existence, and by the litmus test she adds to Isbell’s life. His marriage is also confronted, but, once again, in an unusual context: On “If We Were Vampires,” Isbell looks at love as something that can only exist within the sands of an hourglass. “It occurred to me that it’s a beautiful thing, death, if it happens when it’s supposed to and not a minute sooner,” Isbell says. “There is nothing else that would move us, if we didn’t know it was going to end. I wouldn’t be in a hurry to find somebody to spend my life with, to have a child, or work. I wouldn’t have any motivation to do anything — make art, get up off my ass, whatever. That’s really the point. People call it a sad song. Yeah, it’s a sad song, but sometimes people use the word sad to mean moving.”

There’s no doubt that Isbell’s a lyrical master — like the best songwriters, he blends prose and poetry in the most delicate balance — but part of what makes his work so captivating is that idea of what is “moving” over simply just sad, or any base emotion. The Nashville Sound gets this feeling across often by asking questions as much as it gives answers: Why does happiness breed so much discomfort? Is there any peace in knowing that death will come? What can we do, in this short life, to leave the world a better place than we found it? Rather than get purely political, Isbell aims to move minds, and to challenge beliefs that are held dear, through subtler storytelling and not just through enraged diatribes.

“If you want people to listen, you can’t just yell at them all the time, even if you are right,” he says. “If I am arguing with someone who is a hardcore conservative, I might think this person doesn’t realize how offensive his or her beliefs are, that they are racist or sexist, but you can’t just start screaming ‘You are a racist and you are sexist,’ unless you just want to alienate those people and cause them to move out to the fringes. Once people get alienated, they start throwing fire bombs.”

That sense of alienation is a lot of what built the Trump agenda, and, now, Isbell feels alienated, too. He’s confused by a country that could overlook “deplorable behavior” like Trump’s. “I thought I knew more about Americans that I did,” he says, talking about “White Man’s World.” “Having grown up in a small part of a Southern state and traveled for nearly 20 years, I thought I knew more than I do about American people.”

Of course, Isbell wants to know them as much as he can — it’s whyThe Nashville Sound is the number one country (and rock) record on the Billboard chart. You don’t appeal to both red and blue without reminding the audience that you’re not just preaching to them, you’re hearing them, too. And Isbell is listening to the Nashville sounds, as much as he is making them.


Lede illustration by Cat Ferraz.

3×3: Jade Jackson on Killing Moons, Rainy Mondays, and Super Moms

Artist: Jade Jackson
Hometown: Santa Margarita, CA
Latest Album: Gilded
Personal Nicknames: My sister calls me George.

 

#SundaySpin – who’s listening to ‘Gilded’ on vinyl?

A post shared by Jade Jackson (@jadejacksonband) on

If you could go back (or forward) to live in any decade, when would you choose?

Early 1700s.

Who would be your dream co-writer?

If he were alive, Townes Van Zandt. I got to write with Mike Ness, which was a dream. Also, Kris Kristofferson, Tom. T. Hall, Conor Oberst, Jason Isbell …

If a song started playing every time you entered the room, what would you want it to be?

“The Killing Moon” by Echo & the Bunnymen.

 

Gilded | Photo by Xina Hamari Ness.

A post shared by Jade Jackson (@jadejacksonband) on

What is the one thing you can’t survive without on tour?

My lead guitarist, Andrew Rebel.

What are you most afraid of?

Hurting someone’s feelings.

Who is your favorite superhero?

My mom.

 

Thank you for letting me raid your closet, @showmeyourmumu!

A post shared by Jade Jackson (@jadejacksonband) on

Pickles or olives?

Both.

Which primary color is the best — blue, yellow, or red?

Blue.

Which is worse — rainy days or Mondays?

A rainy Monday sounds good to me.

ANNOUNCING: 2017 Americana Music Awards Nominations

Today, the nominees for the 16th annual Americana Music Association‘s Honors & Awards show were announced during an event at the Country Music Hall of Fame and Museum hosted by the Milk Carton Kids and featuring performances by Jason Isbell, Jerry Douglas, Patterson Hood and Mike Cooley of the Drive-By Truckers, and Caitlin Canty. The winners will be announced during the Americana Honors & Awards show on September 13, 2017 at the Ryman Auditorium in Nashville, Tennessee.

Album of the Year:
American Band, Drive-By Truckers, Produced by David Barbe
Close Ties, Rodney Crowell, Produced by Kim Buie and Jordan Lehning
Freedom Highway, Rhiannon Giddens, Produced David Bither, Rhiannon Giddens and Dirk Powell
The Navigator, Hurray for the Riff Raff, Produced by Paul Butler
A Sailor’s Guide to Earth, Sturgill Simpson, Produced by Sturgill Simpson

Artist of the Year:
Jason Isbell
John Prine
Lori McKenna
Margo Price
Sturgill Simpson

Duo/Group of the Year:
Billy Bragg & Joe Henry
Drive-By Truckers
Marty Stuart & His Fabulous Superlatives
The Lumineers

Emerging Artist of the Year:
Aaron Lee Tasjan
Amanda Shires
Brent Cobb
Sam Outlaw

Song of the Year:
“All Around You,” Sturgill Simpson, Written by Sturgill Simpson
“It Ain’t Over Yet,” Rodney Crowell (featuring Rosanne Cash & John Paul White), Written by Rodney Crowell
“To Be Without You,” Ryan Adams, Written by Ryan Adams
“Wreck You,” Lori McKenna, Written by Lori McKenna and Felix McTeigue

Instrumentalist of the Year:
Spencer Cullum, Jr.
Jen Gunderman
Courtney Hartman
Charlie Sexton

MIXTAPE: Songs to Crawl Inside

Aren’t half-somber, half-hopeful songs the most comforting? Through gloomy Winters when you’re chilled to the bone, snuggled under your favorite fleece with a piping hot cup of herbal tea, perhaps you find yourself newly single, binge-watching reality television and taking a spoon directly to that pint of Ben & Jerry’s … or when you’re staring down four years of an unqualified, immature, egomaniac, C-list celebrity/Twitter personality occupying the White House — crawl inside any or all of these songs.

Brandi Carlile — “That Wasn’t Me”

I’d be lying if I said I hadn’t ever put this song on repeat and sobbed the lyrics over and over. Whether accidentally or purposefully, we’ve all had experiences when our true selves haven’t shown through. Maybe our intentions have been mischaracterized through no fault of our own or maybe we hide behind intricate facades. “Do I make myself a blessing to everyone I meet? When you fall, I will get you on your feet. Do I spend time with my family? Did it show when I was weak? When that’s what you see, that will be me.”

Darrell Scott — “Someday”

“Someday” is a really difficult word to handle, but it’s a beautiful thing when it’s hopeful rather than daunting. Someday the world will change for the better; someday it will all fall into place; someday we’ll finally be the people we want to be; someday we’ll look back and understand. As usual, Darrell Scott sings with goosebump-inducing conviction, “I will love someday. I’ll break these feet and these eyes and this heart of clay … someday.”

Lee Ann Womack — “Little Past Little Rock”

This song is a mandatory addition to every road trip playlist I make, but it’s not just a comfort for travelers and everyone eastbound on I-30. This is a song of liberation, of staring fear in the eye and finally standing up for oneself. If LAW is at peace with not knowing what the future holds, then we can be, too. Let that baritone guitar tug your heartstrings.

Alison Krauss & Union Station — “Find My Way Back to My Heart”

“I used to laugh at all those songs about the rambling life, the nights so long and lonely. But I ain’t laughing now …” And with just the first line you find yourself curled up within this song like a warm, impossibly soft snuggie. We would all crawl inside Alison’s comforting, plaintive voice on its own if we could, right? Then the slight, lilting asymmetry of the lyrics and the haunting, iconic So Long So Wrong aesthetic draw us in even further.

Ashley Monroe — “Like a Rose”

It takes a zen mindset to acknowledge your past with its good, bad, and ugly, and appreciate how it’s brought you to where you are today — especially if where you are today isn’t quite where you want to be yet. But if you can understand that you can still be your best self in any of those contexts, well, you really have come out like a rose. Lemme just crawl inside that beautiful moral-to-the-story.

Jason Isbell — “Flagship”

With a setting that would rival the best indie movie — a crumbling hotel, a harlequin cast of characters — Isbell aspires to a love that will last longer than structures, that won’t fade or grow stale, and will stand out as a banner for all to achieve. At first seemingly naïve or out of touch, the realism of the unmanicured surroundings make us feel like this kind of connection is not only attainable, but right around the corner. And that idea is just so gosh darn reassuring.

Erin Rae and the Meanwhiles — “Minolta”

Here’s another voice you’d crawl inside, if you could. Erin Rae shines a more positive light on our culture of constant social media and photo sharing, but with a vintage twist. Imagine a friendship so dear that you wish you could follow that special person around just to see the world through their eyes. “Good things are on their way for you, and if I’m not beside you for the ride, take a picture I can stop and look at sometimes.” Friendships like this help us all get out of bed in the morning.

Hot Rize — “You Were On My Mind This Morning”

If you’re thinking about someone and reminiscing, this song is for you. If you’re scared a certain someone isn’t thinking about you, this song is for you. If you wish Tim O’Brien were thinking about you this morning, well … us, too. The seminal, progressive bluegrass sounds of Hot Rize are excellent, as always, but my personal favorite recording of this song has to be our Sitch Session of Tim serenading the mountains.

Chris Stapleton — “Fire Away”

Let’s talk to each other more. Let’s listen to each other more. Let’s let it all out more. Let’s warm up with Stapleton’s smoky voice and cuddle up in his beard. Wait … wut?

Dolly Parton, Linda Ronstadt, Emmylou Harris — “Feels Like Home”

This song had to make this list. But perhaps the more important thing here is the version. Of all the recordings of this modern classic, could there be a single one more comforting and soothing than Linda, Dolly, and Emmy? Hint: The answer is no. (Give “High Sierra” a spin, while you’re at it. It gets an honorable-crawl-inside-mention.)

Sara Watkins — “Take Up Your Spade”

Okay. It’s time to get to work, put one foot in front of the other, and push slowly but surely toward our goals. Oh, and don’t forget to give thanks along the way. We all have a lot to be thankful for.


Photo credit: Martin Cathrae via Foter.com / CC BY-SA.

The Producers: Dave Cobb

Dave Cobb is the man with the Midas touch. Since the Savannah-born guitarist/producer started working his magic in the studio more than 10 years ago, he’s produced some of the very best Americana records of the decade, including Sturgill Simpson’s High Top Mountain and Metamodern Sounds in Country Music, Chris Stapleton’s Traveller, and both of the brilliant solo recordings from America’s best songwriter, Jason Isbell. Cobb took time out from a session at his home studio in Nashville to speak with the BGS for the first in our series of interviews with producers about making records.

Dave Cobb: What’s happening?

Michael Verity: Not much. I have you down on my calendar for a chat.

Yeah, I remember, man. I’m a big fan of the Bluegrass Situation. You guys do some awesome shit.

Aw, thank you, man. We feel the same way about you!

You guys are one of the only real publications out there. It’s awesome, man.

Thank you! That’s always nice to hear. So, ever since I was a pup and I looked at the back of my first record album, which which was Bridge Over Troubled Water 

… oh, wow.

… and saw "Produced by Roy Halee" …

… one of my heroes …

… I’ve been fascinated by record producers. And then I read that Bridge Over Troubled Water was a template of sorts for Jason Isbell’s Southeastern.

Absolutely. I’m a huge fan of Roy. He’s kind of it for me. And yeah, about Southeastern: We met about two weeks before we recorded and it was hilarious because all I did was talk to him for a second then go, "Let me play you a record." And I played “The Only Living Boy in New York.”

That’s one of my favorite songs of all time. I think it’s one of the most brilliant productions ever. I pointed out that when you think of Simon and Garfunkel, you think of acoustic guitar. You never think of a band or of production. But, if you listen to that record, it’s so badass. They’re singing in cathedrals, there are loops going on. The kitchen sink’s on that record — harpsichords and bells — but it still feels like an acoustic record. And that was the template for Southeastern … to make a record that feels acoustic but not be purely acoustic. It’s awesome that you pointed that record out because it was absolutely the template. [Laughs] Even though Southeastern sounds nothing like it.

Sonically, Bridge Over Troubled Water really summarized much of what was created by the Byrds, the Beatles, and the Beach Boys, and then took it to the next logical step. And opened the door for the kind of productions Gus Dudgeon did with Elton John, for example.

Absolutely. I love those records, too. Tumbleweed Connection is one of my favorite records of all time, as well. You’re absolutely right. Man, you know your stuff.

In my opinion, “Cover Me Up” is one of the best Americana songs to have been recorded in the last 20 years.

Oh, wow.

If I were to put it under a microscope, how many of your fingerprints would I find on that song, do you think?

I had read about the recording of “Mrs. Robinson.” They said the guys recorded that song minus the band and then, after they got the track, they added the band — the Wrecking Crew guys — and that’s why the song feels so good … and moves. So I thought, "I don’t want to influence Jason at all. I don’t want anybody influencing his timing. I don’t want anybody influencing his ebbs and flows, his getting loud and getting quiet."

We were recording at this little tiny studio in the back of my house and it’s a little bit small, a little bit confined. We wanted him to be able to stretch out. So we ran lines into the house and put him in the kitchen, where’s he’s looking out over Nashville. There's nobody else around; he’s in the house completely alone and we’re down in the studio, listening.

So we had him record the song — as well as two or three other songs on that record — completely by himself, acoustic. After we got the track, we added the slide and the Mellotron and the bridge, things like that. 

It’s very simple and it’s supposed to be simple. I think, normally, when people try to record that kind of thing, they get everybody together, and they have a click track. They’re trying to get a really great take and then comp it to go. “Cover Me Up” is a pure performance, a one-take track with just a little bit of sweetening, which was my contribution.

With a Mellotron. Which was an Elton John instrument, right?

I think a lot of people used it. The Beatles used it. The Bee Gees. Back in the day, if you couldn’t afford strings, you got a Mellotron. I think it’s a wonderful instrument and a great way to create some atmosphere. We keep coming back to the same record, but on Bridge Over Troubled Water, there are strings and all kinds of stuff — like the Mellotron. It's an affordable way to get ahold of a glockenspiel or a marimba or whatever crazy instruments you can think of.

The funny thing about “Mrs. Robinson,” as you tell the story about adding the band afterward, is that Paul Simon supposedly didn’t even know they did that. He had gone off to Europe and, when he landed back in New York, he heard it on the radio and was like, "What the hell?"

He probably smiled all the way to the bank on that one.

Not to overstate the whole Bridge Over Troubled Water thing, but on the new Jason record, you can kind of draw some dotted lines between the two albums … the reverb on the drums on “Children of Children,” for example.

Oh, for sure. It’s old chambers — like the echo chamber at Sound Emporium, the studio that Cowboy Jack Clement built back in the '60s. It’s a really beautiful sound; you really can’t fake that. On “Bridge Over Troubled Water,” they were using an elevator shaft.

I know, right? Isn’t that cool? I was looking at the video about the making of [Isbell’s] “24 Frames.” Was your input as we saw it in that video indicative of how you work with musicians?

Yeah. When I go into the studio, I’m kind of the "fifth member." I like to be in the room with the artist and have an instrument on, whether I play on the record or not. It’s a tool to speak the language, to suggest melodic ideas, and push and influence the tempo and the like.

There’s a guy, Jimmy Miller, one of my favorite producers ever, who produced the best Stones stuff — from Let It Bleed to Exile [On Main Street]. The Stones really found their swagger with him. He’d get out there and play percussion or drums or whatever it took to get the groove. I think I kind of do that, as well, whether I have an acoustic guitar on or play percussion or whatever. I try to guide like that, without using clicks.

And with Jason, he’s really open and always very cool. He always has the songs; the songs are done because he’s an unbelievable writer. But with the little themes, the beginnings and ends and bridges, he’s always welcoming to ideas. We always have fun.

“The Life You Chose” and “Hudson Commodore” are my favorites on that album. The things I love about “The Life You Chose” are the idea of being “lucky” by losing three fingers — what delicious irony. And, right as he sings that line, there’s a cello that sneaks into the mix. It just floored me. I thought, “Dude, that is IT.”

Thanks, man. He always let’s me mess around and I love orchestrating. That’s the Mellotron again. That’s not even a real cello. The Mellotron lets me conduct a symphony in my own little studio.

Lindi Ortega did something cool — she recorded a little in Muscle Shoals, did a few tunes with another one of my favorite producers of all time, Colin Linden, and then tracked three of cuts with you. And it’s easy to tell which ones are yours. Just rock 'n' roll, baby. Did you have fun with that?

I love Lindi. I did her previous record, and I think she is such an amazing talent. Every time we work together, those vocals are live. Her songs are pure performance and we were just trying to capture lightning in a bottle. She’s so exuberant and alive and fun to work with … dancing while she sings, jumping around. I think you feel that on tape.

My other favorite you’ve done is Chris Stapleton’s Traveller which is a whole lot different than Lindi and Jason. To me, it has a much more glossy, rock 'n' roll sound. Should I trust my ears on that one?

Yeah. The guy who who engineered and mixed it was Vance Powell, a tremendous talent who did all the Third Man stuff, like Jack White’s records. We wanted a real simple, pure thing; that was driven by Chris. I love strings and stuff like that, but Chris was like, “Nah, no keyboards.” I think there’s like one hit of piano somewhere on the record.

But the way we did it was a really good idea. That guy's such an insane singer so we didn't want to let anything get in the way of the vocal. And he’s a phenomenal acoustic guitar player so we tracked it with him, a bass guitar, and drums, me on acoustic guitar, and his wife on harmonies. That’s pretty much what you hear, other than a few solo overdubs.

We had the privilege on working in RCA Studio A for much of that record and we had a blast. We’d show up at noon and goof around and talk and maybe order some food, talk over some drinks. We didn’t track until maybe 8 o’clock at night but, when we did, we’d get two or three masters. That’s what you hear on the record. It was such a fun session and a real lesson in recording when you’re inspired — not recording because you have a deadline. The label was great. They really let us stretch out. They were really supportive about it all, about having everybody in a good mood.

We talked a little about Jimmy Miller. Now let’s talk about Glyn Johns.

Glyn is my favorite engineer of all time. One of my favorite producers. His records were so hi-fi and beautiful. I think he made a great record with Ryan Adams with Ashes and Fire. I hear that record it makes me want to give up. I think I’m kind of a fake engineer. I work on the records, but I’m more of a songwriter kind of producer. His albums sound like music to me: guitar amps sound like guitar amps, singers sound like they're singing to you. I’m heavily influenced by him, especially by his rock 'n' roll records.

A good place to ask this question: Do you play with Europe? As in “The Final Countdown” Europe?

No, I don’t play with them. I produced their last album. I don’t play in the band Europe, no. [Laughs]

I was a little confused by that one.

Every once in awhile, I’ll jump on stage and play with them. When I was a kid, I used to play along with that stuff. Everybody did in the '80s.

The way that happened was, I produced this band called Rival Sons — they’re more of a traditional rock band. They do really well overseas, and the guys from Europe heard the record and called me about a year-and-a-half ago, asking me about working together. They called me thinking I’d be too cool to work with them, but I was really excited about it. I went over to Stockholm and we made a record that was awesome. It sounds like Black Sabbath or something. It was a lot of fun. We’re going to make another record again. They’re really good guys.

Has production always been in the back of your mind, even while you were in your own band … well before you did your first record with Shooter Jennings 10 years ago and started making a name for yourself?

I always wanted to be in a band and get a record deal and do it as a career. And my band did get signed and did a lot of heavy touring. But we signed a bad deal and got stuck, and if I recorded anything new with the band, it would go directly to the label that we hated. So that’s when I started taking production seriously. I’d met my wife by this time and I was ready to stop touring. I enjoyed playing shows and enjoyed recording records but I hated the road.

And I think when I was in bands, I used to drive everybody crazy trying to tell them what to play. Maybe I was douchier back then and production was a logical thing to do — start being a producer so people would actually start listening to you.

You've found your natural space.

Being a producer is like getting to be in a different band all the time. It’s a lot of fun. When you first join a band, it’s the most romantic thing. Then, after two or three years, you start hating each other. Being a producer, I get the first date kind of feeling all the time.

‘Something More Than Free’

Seldom, if ever, does an album take two or three dozen spins around my record player before it hits the road to review. But this record, Jason Isbell’s fifth solo piece, is so good it’s dominated my turntable since the day it landed on my desk. The clarity of mind and deep sense of family values of which Isbell speaks in his excellent conversation with Kelly McCartney comes to musical fruition here on these 11 songs, beautifully articulate and confident observations of those everyday places where man makes connections between faith and fear, responsibility and desire, past and present.

The opening cut, "If It Takes a Lifetime," is just that: a narrative of a grown man who stays away from wine and beer (and keeps "pissin’ clear") in the name of his worldly responsibilities, always hopeful that “his day will come, if it takes a lifetime.” "24 Frames" and the exquisite "Children of Children" are epic journeys from a youthful point of view — the former drawing from the jangle rock of the South circa ‘85, the latter a beautifully expansive Midwestern chronicle of tall corn and light reins. "Flagship," a story of how we’d never like to be, and "Hudson Commodore," a story of how it's turned out, are stunning bookends around what might be the best five Americana songs of this decade. The best of them is "The Life You Choose," a nearly perfect narrative wherein a man who loses three fingers “to a faulty tool” considers himself to be the lucky one (and "nobody's fool").

Isbell’s voice on this album is lithe and graceful, tripping lightly across material both tough and tender. The arrangements — from the supporting vocals to the rhythm tracks to the deliciously subtle strings — are exceptional and the musicianship is top notch. But what makes this very best record I’ve heard all year — one that deserves those dozens of plays — is the stories, the talk of the temporal meeting the spiritual, and all the very human trips and stumbles that happen along the way. This is, for lack of ensuing competition, the best record of the year and worthy of consideration as one of the best of the decade.