Big Richard, Big Feelings – Their New Album is a Delicious ‘Girl Dinner’

The members of Big Richard – Joy Adams (vocals, cello, banjo, octave mandolin), Eve Panning (vocals, fiddle), Hazel Royer  (vocals, bass, guitar), and Bonnie Sims (vocals, mandolin, guitar) – were seasoned studio and gigging musicians when they met for their first rehearsal. Familiar with one another from Colorado’s thriving music scene, their initial gathering was the result of an offer to assemble a band and perform at McAwesome Festival 2021 in Castle Rock.

Musical and personal chemistry, apparent during practice, was also a given onstage, solidly reinforced by an outpouring of support from fans. There was also a flip side – backlash to the band’s suggestive name and often-bawdy stage banter. This, it turns out, created even more incentive to continue. Big Richard was officially a band.

Their wealth of experience across musical genres – bluegrass, country, jazz, classical, rock, and beyond – opened the door for writing, recording, and performing music that pushes beyond parameters while remaining firmly planted in tradition. It shows on their new album, Girl Dinner (released January 24), produced by the band and recorded with Colorado musician and friend Eric Wiggs at his Vermillion Road Studio.

Technically their second release, following 2022’s Live from Telluride, Girl Dinner represents several firsts for the band: their first studio release, first recording of all-original material, and first with Royer, who joined the ensemble a year ago. According to the musicians, Girl Dinner demonstrates the many sides of Big Richard, everything from stripped-down, quiet instrumentation and harmonies to the blazing solos that define their performances.

When was it obvious that Big Richard would be more than a one-festival project?

Joy Adams: It wasn’t really in the first rehearsal. It was in the reception to the show that we played. Obviously, bluegrass is a jam-based genre; it’s common to sit down with your friends and play tunes. But we felt a crazy chemistry in the way we sang and played together that was apparent from the very first song we played at Bonnie’s house. When we played McAwesome Fest, for starters, our set got rained out, so we didn’t get to play the whole set. We were upset about that. We were looking for another gig just so we could get to the other songs. And we also had a bad reaction to us, too. There were people who were very upset about our name and how crass we were onstage and we got some initial hate mail after that first show. That was the moment – in my head, anyway – where we were like, “Oh, we have something here. If we can ruffle some feathers with this band, we’ve got to do this. This is an important thing.”

When and how did you build the band?

Bonnie Sims: We played that first gig in May 2021, our second gig in September 2021, and we hit the ground running in the beginning of 2022. We booked [Colorado festivals] RockyGrass and WinterWonderGrass right out of the gate, and that gave us a lot of fuel in our tank to want to invest in the creative side, start writing together, start rehearsing more, and really invest in the music, because we had these exciting opportunities to be a part of. Not long after we booked those things ourselves, we signed with Crossover Touring. Our buddy Chandler Holt has been our booking agent from the beginning and has been a huge part of helping us get to lots of festivals and play fun rooms.

Eve Panning: That first year or so was an unexpected influx of gigs. We did a ton of touring and I feel like we were kind of playing catch-up. It’s been really fun in this last year. We’ve all settled into the band a little bit more, and it’s been fun to hear the songs that everybody’s bringing and spend a lot of time working on those. You can hear that in the new album. Live From Telluride had some originals, but we were doing a lot of covers because we were so new as a band. This new album is all originals, and it’s been fun to explore that side of things as well.

How have the sound and dynamic changed since Hazel joined you?

JA: The band has changed so much. Hazel is wonderful. Her attitude is fantastic. She’s an incredible musician who has brought the level of the band up a lot. The arrangements have gotten better, the groove is tighter, and the overall balance of band vibes is wonderful. It’s everything all of us could ever have dreamed of, and I blame Hazel for that entirely. She’s such a lovely person to be around, she writes incredible songs that are deep and moving and exciting, and we’re so lucky to have her in the band. She really saved us.

BS: I agree. Hazel brings such a strong singing voice. It’s really fun to lean into the power she brings vocally, intertwine with that power, and lose ourselves in it. And her original songs are incredible. It’s a natural elevation of maturing as a group and playing together. This is year three going on to year four for the band. It’s a lot different. The pace has been incredible as far as how much time we’re spending making music together. It’s very much like a pressure cooker. It has an effect on the music itself, so the sound has evolved immensely and continues to evolve in an exciting way.

Hazel Royer: Thank you, everybody. That’s so nice. When I joined the band, everyone was, “We want to work. We want to try new things and learn new songs.” We spent two months rehearsing before we played our first gig with me on bass. We looked at the music and we became a band before playing the shows. There was an emphasis on learning new material, and there was a really good excuse to do that because there was a new member and no gigs for a couple months, so we had the space to learn new things. I’m really grateful that I got to be a part of that.

EP: When you only have four people onstage and it’s all acoustic instruments, when 25 percent of the band changes, that’s really significant. That means the sound is definitely going to change. But, like everyone said, Hazel has such a powerful voice, she’s such an accomplished musician, so it’s felt great. It’s felt like a wonderful step up.

HR: I was super-lucky because everyone in this band wanted me to exist as myself. That was the primary thing: “We want you to sing. We want you to write your own songs and bring them to the band.” That’s rare for a new person – joining a band and being like, “We want what you do as embedded immediately.” Additionally, we have a lot of crossover, musically, that we all can draw from. I grew up playing bluegrass and old-time music, and these guys are steeped in that. I also like pop music, and everybody likes that, and I had classical studies, and there’s two people who are very accomplished classical musicians, so there was a lot of crossover that made the integration of myself into the band easier than it could have been.

Let’s talk about the album – the songwriting process, song selection, your goals going into the studio.

BS: Our goal was to present something different than what we presented on our live album, which, like Eve said, was mostly covers. We recorded Live From Telluride after being a band for right at the one-year mark. It was very much the first generation of material. This is our debut studio album, but it’s our sophomore offering as far as the material, in my opinion, because it’s the second stage of the band’s development as far as it’s all original. There’s introspective and thoughtful moments within the songwriting. We have those at shows, but they’re always intermixed with high-energy, raging things where you can hop around and have a really intense, energetic experience. The album, I feel, offers up the soft side of Big Richard, in a way. We have this saying, “Big Richard, big feelings,” and the album is representative of that side of the band, which is, again, usually balanced with this different vibe live. So we took that out and just are doing the original stuff on the record, which is exciting.

Did you write deliberately to explore that softer side, or did the direction become obvious as you were writing?

JA: We didn’t intentionally write a soft album, and I hesitate to call it a soft album, because there are some burning fiddle tunes that Eve wrote and there’s a couple of aggressive songs, mostly coming out of Bonnie’s pen. The album is all over the map. The more lyrical songs were collected over the course of a year playing together. We love these songs so much and they got such a good reception at all of our shows. We did play them out pretty thoroughly before we recorded them, so it was a matter of collecting our favorite songs that we felt hit the emotional depths of “Big Richard, big feelings.” We were really proud of these songs.

HR: To go off of what Joy said, they’re our favorites. We picked them because we all were very passionate and love those songs. There are some soft songs on the album, but there’s a wide variety of things going on there. It is different than our live show by a significant margin. The album, in my view, is a piece of something that’s made out of love. We love this music and we created these arrangements together.

Once the songs were selected, what was the sequencing process?

EP: We had an initial sequence, and then we were limited by how many songs we could put on each side of the vinyl, so we had to take our original idea and rework it. The album starts and ends with songs about saying goodbye, and that hits; that feels like a powerful moment.

HR: We looked at this group of songs as a set list. We wanted to create a listening experience similar to something we would provide at a show, like, how do these songs flow into each other? Are there seamless transitions that we’re able to utilize? That’s how we looked at sequencing the album. And also separating saying goodbye a million times. At the top and the end of the album was important.

BS: Vinyl presents an opportunity for sequencing to have more of a presence again. With digital consumption, people just click what they want and add it to their own playlist. No shade; do your thing with your playlist, but with vinyl you’re going to probably sit and listen to it in the order that we put it in, because that’s the style of listening for a record. So it’s nice to have that opportunity with vinyl.

Tell us about the recording process.

JA: We recorded this album in May 2024, and we had the last master submitted in September or October. Vinyl production takes a little while, so we got the vinyl back in December, which was really exciting. Mixing and mastering is a crazy process that takes so long. That’s the part I’m very obsessed with. I was, unfortunately, the squeaky wheel the whole time, being like, “The bass needs to be half a dB [decibel] higher in this song, in this one section, but not all the other sections.” That was all me. I love the process of recording. We’re not a band that plays a song a hundred times – thank heavens for that. We tend to get things within five takes. Some solos got replayed or re-recorded, little things that got added, studio magic. I’m very proud that this album required basically no tuning and really simple edits.

EP: We also did a lot of tracks without a click. We didn’t go into the studio with a plan as far as which ones we were going to record to a click and which ones we were going to just play. But I think it keeps a lot of life in those songs as well, playing them like we do with a little bit of breadth to them.

HR: This might go without saying, but we tracked the whole thing together. We made basic tracks and there was some soloing, editing, but that was it. Just iso booths, but all four of us live.

The album was self-produced. What does the word “producer” mean to you? Did you experiment much or make changes to the songs while recording them?

JA: Production for this kind of band, to me, means deciding how we were going to record it, which is a very big discussion: are you all in the same room together, are you recording separate, are you recording to a click track, etc. And then, of course, trying to democratically decide what take has the most musical power, because you’re going to sacrifice a little perfection somewhere for the sake of something that’s riveting. That’s always the case. And then making decisions about mixing and mastering. In some ways it would have been nice to have had an external source of nature in the room, like another producer to help us make those decisions, but it was incredibly empowering to make them ourselves, because we have dragged these songs through both the mud and the sky on the touring road.

We had really figured out and dialed in the arrangements in front of thousands of people. We knew exactly what we wanted out of these songs, and so it was liberating to be able to put those down in our way and not have to fight a producer on some decisions. As far as things changing in the studio, not a whole lot changed. We were all playing the instruments that we do. Sometimes Hazel plays guitar or bass, and so we had the ability to have both bass and guitar on some of her tunes, which was really effective. That was one thing that was different than how we usually do it live.

HR: To go off what Joy said, I think the production, as far as the musical side of things goes, really did happen on the road and in rehearsals. We came into the studio knowing our songs, exactly how they go, what we want where, and what we’ve tried and tested a billion times, instead of coming up with arrangements in a studio environment.

The Colorado music scene has been very supportive. How great a part have those audiences played in taking the band to the next level?

BS: The audience has been instrumental in every step and every piece of our success. They are the success, because if they weren’t there, buying tickets and wanting to be at shows, we wouldn’t have a reason to be out touring. We’re grateful to everybody who comes to shows. When we come back to our Colorado hometown vibe, it really keeps us going. It keeps the light on for us, because those are the crowds that lift us up energetically and have been there from day one. Coming back to those audiences fills our tank in a real way.


Find more Big Richard here.

Photo Credit: Jason Innes

Basic Folk: Anna B Savage

Anna B Savage is down-to-earth and witchy as hell at the same time. Over her three albums, she’s cultivated a mesmerizing sound and epic image – like David Bowie, Björk, Kate Bush, etc. – that’s gained her a godlike reputation. A reputation which preceded the actual human being behind the art, leaving some to wonder what it would be like to speak to her. Turns out, she’s a grounded, kind of goofy, and perfectly normal person. In our Basic Folk conversation, we explore the duality of her persona – Anna Savage versus her stage name of Anna B Savage – and how her new album, You & i are Earth, reflects a blending of these identities with a focus on nature and love.

LISTEN: APPLE • SPOTIFY • AMAZON • MP3

In this episode, Anna reflects on the realization of her parents’ unusual musical paths (they are both opera singers) and how it influenced her own creative pursuits. We delve into her songwriting journey, her love for birds, and the evolution of her unique singing voice, which blends classical influences with a jazz singer’s sensibility. Anna also opens up about her stage fright and the progression of her confidence as a performer. She touches on the complexities of being an English person living in Ireland and the importance of understanding the historical context of her new home.

As we navigate the themes of You & i are Earth, Anna reveals the inspiration behind the track “Agnes” and the mysterious allure of the 17th-century plate that inspired the album’s title. With a lighthearted lightning round, we learn about her favorite birthday tea, her ideal stage outfit, and her witchiest recent activity, too.


Photo Credit: Katie Silvester

Sierra Ferrell, Beyoncé, Many More Roots Musicians Win at 67th GRAMMY Awards

Yesterday, the 67th Annual GRAMMY Awards show was held in Los Angeles, handing out dozens of awards across the primetime broadcast and premiere ceremony while highlighting the city’s ongoing response to last month’s extreme wildfires, which displaced hundreds of musicians, artists, industry professionals, and creatives. The marquee event was kicked off by Dawes – whose sibling frontmen, Taylor and Griffin Goldsmith, had homes, their studio, and countless instruments and equipment destroyed in the blazes. They performed a moving rendition of “I Love L.A.” with a host of special guests.

Throughout the show, audience members were encouraged to support MusiCares Fire Relief, a collaborative fundraiser launched by the Recording Academy and MusiCares in partnership with Direct Relief, the California Community Foundation, and the Pasadena Community Foundation to help expand wildfire relief efforts across the broader Los Angeles community. Despite the somber shadow cast by the disaster over LA and its creative community, the show was convivial, joyous, and restorative – and included more than a few show-stopping and jaw-dropping moments.

As usual, the crème de la crème of roots musicians could be found across both the pre-telecast and primetime awards, scooping up golden gramophones in seemingly endless varieties of categories. The evening’s big winners in the Country & American Roots Music categories included superstar Beyoncé, who finally picked up her first Album of the Year win, as well as becoming the first Black woman to ever win Best Country Album. She also won the trophy for Best Country Duo Performance with Miley Cyrus for “II Most Wanted,” bringing her GRAMMY Awards totals to 99 nominations and 35 wins – the most wins of any recipient in the history of the awards.

Sierra Ferrell, a West Virginia native and firebrand bluegrass and country starlet quickly on the rise these past handful of years, was indisputably the day’s other big winner, scoring in each of the four categories in which she was nominated. She quickly followed her very first GRAMMY win with three more, landing awards for Best Americana Album, Best American Roots Performance, Best Americana Performance, and Best American Roots Song – an honor she shares with her co-writer, musician, songwriter, and vocalist Melody Walker (Front Country, BERTHA: Grateful Drag).

The award for Best Bluegrass Album was yet again snatched by the world’s premier flatpicker, Billy Strings, for Live Vol. 1, logging his second win at the GRAMMYs after seven nominations over the last five years.

Pop phenom Chappell Roan won Best New Artist, Kacey Musgraves took home Best Country Song for “The Architect,” Chris Stapleton racked up his 11th GRAMMY win for Best Country Solo Performance, and Woodland, the latest album by Gillian Welch & David Rawlings, was recognized as Best Folk Album. Chick Corea won a posthumous award – Best Jazz Instrumental Album – for Remembrance, a duo project helmed by banjoist Béla Fleck that was released in honor of his hero, friend, and collaborator.

The GRAMMYs yet again demonstrate that the impact of bluegrass, folk, Americana, and country on the mainstream music industry cannot be overstated. Congratulations to all of the winners and nominees for the 67th GRAMMY Awards!

Give now to support MusiCares Fire Relief here and find out many more ways to support LA as it recovers from the devastating wildfires here. Find the full list of Country & American Roots Music winners below, including several additional related categories boasting roots music nominees and winners.

(Winners denoted in BOLD)

Best Country Solo Performance

“16 CARRIAGES” – Beyoncé
“I Am Not Okay” – Jelly Roll
“The Architect” – Kacey Musgraves
“A Bar Song (Tipsy)” – Shaboozey
“It Takes A Woman” – Chris Stapleton

Best Country Duo/Group Performance

“Cowboys Cry Too” – Kelsea Ballerini with Noah Kahan
“II MOST WANTED” – Beyoncé featuring Miley Cyrus
“Break Mine” – Brothers Osborne
“Bigger Houses” – Dan + Shay
“I Had Some Help” – Post Malone featuring Morgan Wallen

Best Country Song

“The Architect” – Shane McAnally, Kacey Musgraves & Josh Osborne, songwriters (Kacey Musgraves)
“A Bar Song (Tipsy)” – Sean Cook, Jerrel Jones, Joe Kent, Chibueze Collins Obinna, Nevin Sastry & Mark Williams, songwriters (Shaboozey)
“I Am Not Okay” – Casey Brown, Jason DeFord, Ashley Gorley & Taylor Phillips, songwriters (Jelly Roll)
“I Had Some Help” – Louis Bell, Ashley Gorley, Hoskins, Austin Post, Ernest Smith, Ryan Vojtesak, Morgan Wallen & Chandler Paul Walters, songwriters (Post Malone Featuring Morgan Wallen)
“TEXAS HOLD ‘EM”– Brian Bates, Beyoncé, Elizabeth Lowell Boland, Megan Bülow, Nate Ferraro & Raphael Saadiq, songwriters (Beyoncé)

Best Country Album

COWBOY CARTER – Beyoncé
F-1 Trillion – Post Malone
Deeper Well – Kacey Musgraves
Higher – Chris Stapleton
Whirlwind – Lainey Wilson

Best American Roots Performance

“Blame It On Eve” – Shemekia Copeland
“Nothing In Rambling” – The Fabulous Thunderbirds featuring Bonnie Raitt, Keb’ Mo’, Taj Mahal, & Mick Fleetwood
“Lighthouse” – Sierra Ferrell
“The Ballad Of Sally Anne” – Rhiannon Giddens

Best Americana Performance

“YA YA” – Beyoncé
“Subtitles” – Madison Cunningham
“Don’t Do Me Good” – Madi Diaz featuring Kacey Musgraves
“American Dreaming” – Sierra Ferrell
“Runaway Train” – Sarah Jarosz
“Empty Trainload Of Sky” – Gillian Welch & David Rawlings

Best American Roots Song

“Ahead Of The Game” – Mark Knopfler, songwriter (Mark Knopfler)
“All In Good Time” – Sam Beam, songwriter (Iron & Wine featuring Fiona Apple)
“All My Friends” – Aoife O’Donovan, songwriter (Aoife O’Donovan)
“American Dreaming” – Sierra Ferrell & Melody Walker, songwriters (Sierra Ferrell)
“Blame It On Eve” – John Hahn & Will Kimbrough, songwriters (Shemekia Copeland)

Best Americana Album

The Other Side – T Bone Burnett
$10 Cowboy – Charley Crockett
Trail Of Flowers – Sierra Ferrell
Polaroid Lovers – Sarah Jarosz
No One Gets Out Alive – Maggie Rose
Tigers Blood – Waxahatchee

Best Bluegrass Album

I Built A World – Bronwyn Keith-Hynes
Songs Of Love And Life – The Del McCoury Band
No Fear – Sister Sadie
Live Vol. 1 – Billy Strings
Earl Jam – Tony Trischka
Dan Tyminski: Live From The Ryman – Dan Tyminski

Best Traditional Blues Album

Hill Country Love – Cedric Burnside
Struck Down – The Fabulous Thunderbirds
One Guitar Woman – Sue Foley
Sam’s Place – Little Feat
Swingin’ Live At The Church In Tulsa – The Taj Mahal Sextet

Best Contemporary Blues Album

Blues Deluxe Vol. 2 – Joe Bonamassa
Blame It On Eve – Shemekia Copeland
Friendlytown – Steve Cropper & The Midnight Hour
Mileage – Ruthie Foster
The Fury – Antonio Vergara

Best Folk Album

American Patchwork Quartet – American Patchwork Quartet
Weird Faith – Madi Diaz
Bright Future – Adrianne Lenker
All My Friends – Aoife O’Donovan
Woodland – Gillian Welch & David Rawlings

Best Regional Roots Music Album

25 Back To My Roots – Sean Ardoin And Kreole Rock And Soul
Live At The 2024 New Orleans Jazz & Heritage Festival – Big Chief Monk Boudreaux & The Golden Eagles featuring J’Wan Boudreaux
Live At The 2024 New Orleans Jazz & Heritage Festival – New Breed Brass Band featuring Trombone Shorty
Kuini – Kalani Pe’a
Stories From The Battlefield – The Rumble Featuring Chief Joseph Boudreaux Jr.

Best Roots Gospel Album

The Gospel Sessions, Vol 2 – Authentic Unlimited
The Gospel According To Mark – Mark D. Conklin
Rhapsody – The Harlem Gospel Travelers
Church – Cory Henry
Loving You – The Nelons

Best Jazz Performance

“Walk With Me, Lord (SOUND | SPIRIT)” – The Baylor Project
“Phoenix Reimagined (Live)” – Lakecia Benjamin featuring Randy Brecker, Jeff “Tain” Watts & John Scofield
“Juno” – Chick Corea & Béla Fleck
“Twinkle Twinkle Little Me” – Samara Joy featuring Sullivan Fortner
“Little Fears” – Dan Pugach Big Band featuring Nicole Zuraitis & Troy Roberts

Best Jazz Instrumental Album

Owl Song – Ambrose Akinmusire featuring Bill Frisell & Herlin Riley
Beyond This Place – Kenny Barron featuring Kiyoshi Kitagawa, Johnathan Blake, Immanuel Wilkins & Steve Nelson
Phoenix Reimagined (Live) – Lakecia Benjamin
Remembrance – Chick Corea & Béla Fleck
Solo Game – Sullivan Fortner

Best Traditional Pop Vocal Album

À Fleur De Peau – Cyrille Aimée
Visions – Norah Jones
Good Together – Lake Street Dive
Impossible Dream – Aaron Lazar
Christmas Wish – Gregory Porter

Best Contemporary Instrumental Album

Plot Armor – Taylor Eigsti
Rhapsody In Blue – Béla Fleck
Orchestras (Live) – Bill Frisell featuring Alexander Hanson, Brussels Philharmonic, Rudy Royston & Thomas Morgan
Mark – Mark Guiliana
Speak To Me – Julian Lage

Best Instrumental Composition

“At Last” – Shelton G. Berg, composer (Shelly Berg)
“Communion” – Christopher Zuar, composer (Christopher Zuar Orchestra)
“I Swear, I Really Wanted To Make A “Rap” Album But
This Is Literally The Way The Wind Blew Me This Time” – André 3000, Surya Botofasina, Nate Mercereau & Carlos Niño, composers (André 3000)
“Remembrance” – Chick Corea, composer (Chick Corea & Béla Fleck)
“Strands” – Pascal Le Boeuf, composer (Akropolis Reed Quintet, Pascal Le Boeuf & Christian Euman)

Best Arrangement, Instrumental or A Cappella

“Baby Elephant Walk” – Encore, Michael League, arranger (Snarky Puppy)
“Bridge Over Troubled Water” – Jacob Collier, Tori Kelly & John Legend, arrangers (Jacob Collier Featuring John Legend & Tori Kelly)
“Rhapsody In Blue(Grass)” – Béla Fleck & Ferde Grofé, arrangers (Béla Fleck featuring Michael Cleveland, Sierra Hull, Justin Moses, Mark Schatz & Bryan Sutton)
“Rose Without The Thorns” – Erin Bentlage, Alexander Lloyd Blake, Scott Hoying, A.J. Sealy & Amanda Taylor, arrangers (Scott Hoying featuring säje & Tonality)
“Silent Night” – Erin Bentlage, Sara Gazarek, Johnaye Kendrick & Amanda Taylor, arrangers (säje)

Notable General Field Categories:

Record Of The Year

“Now And Then” – The Beatles
“TEXAS HOLD ‘EM” – Beyoncé
“Espresso” – Sabrina Carpenter
“360” – Charli XCX
“BIRDS OF A FEATHER” – Billie Eilish
“Not Like Us” – Kendrick Lamar
“Good Luck, Babe!” – Chappell Roan
“Fortnight” – Taylor Swift featuring Post Malone

Album Of The Year

New Blue Sun – André 3000
COWBOY CARTER – Beyoncé
Short n’ Sweet – Sabrina Carpenter
BRAT – Charli XCX
Djesse Vol. 4 – Jacob Collier
HIT ME HARD AND SOFT – Billie Eilish
Chappell Roan The Rise And Fall Of A Midwest Princess – Chappell Roan
THE TORTURED POETS DEPARTMENT – Taylor Swift

Song Of The Year

“A Bar Song (Tipsy)” – Sean Cook, Jerrel Jones, Joe Kent, Chibueze Collins Obinna, Nevin Sastry & Mark Williams, songwriters (Shaboozey)
“BIRDS OF A FEATHER” – Billie Eilish O’Connell & FINNEAS, songwriters (Billie Eilish)
“Die With A Smile” – Dernst Emile II, James Fauntleroy, Lady Gaga, Bruno Mars & Andrew Watt, songwriters (Lady Gaga & Bruno Mars)
“Fortnight” – Jack Antonoff, Austin Post & Taylor Swift, songwriters (Taylor Swift Featuring Post Malone)
“Good Luck, Babe!” – Kayleigh Rose Amstutz, Daniel Nigro & Justin Tranter, songwriters (Chappell Roan)
“Not Like Us” – Kendrick Lamar, songwriter (Kendrick Lamar)
“Please Please Please” – Amy Allen, Jack Antonoff & Sabrina Carpenter, songwriters (Sabrina Carpenter)
“TEXAS HOLD ‘EM” – Brian Bates, Beyoncé, Elizabeth Lowell Boland, Megan Bülow, Nate Ferraro & Raphael Saadiq, songwriters (Beyoncé)

Best New Artist

Benson Boone
Sabrina Carpenter
Doechii
Khruangbin
RAYE
Chappell Roan
Shaboozey
Teddy Swims


Lead image: Screenshot from GRAMMYs pre-telecast.

John Mailander’s Improvisational Forecast Says ‘Let The World In’

Whether or not you know it, you’ve likely heard John Mailander music. Chances are he’s even worked with one (or some) of your favorite artists, from Bruce Hornsby to Billy Strings, Noah Kahan, Joy Williams, Lucy Dacus, Molly Tuttle, and many more.

No disrespect to his work with the Noisemakers (who he’s toured with since 2018), or Strings’ GRAMMY-winning album Home, or any other projects, but it’s Mailander’s original works where his musical wizardry glows brightest. On his latest effort, Let the World In, his abilities are stronger than ever as he combines the influences from everyone he’s worked with into an adventure of orchestral bliss guided by trance-like, open-ended jazzy jams.

Helping Mailander to paint these soundscapes across nine tracks and 35 total minutes of run-time are his longtime band members in Forecast – Ethan Jodziewicz, Chris Lippincott, Mark Raudabaugh, Jake Stargel, David Williford – who he first started playing with during a Nashville residency at Dee’s Country Cocktail Lounge in 2019 to celebrate the release of his debut album of the same name. Through eight instrumental tracks (and a cover of Nick Drake’s “Road”) they send listeners on an introspective journey throughout Let the World In that brings the jazz leaning work of Hornsby and jam-fueled tendencies of Phish together, showing just how far he and Forecast have grown and evolved since first coming together.

“The first record was a blueprint, the second was settling into and discovering who we are, and this record is the most confident statement of who we are,” Mailander tells BGS. “Harmonies, colors, melodic themes, it can all be tied back to the first record in some way.”

Mailander spoke to us ahead of the album’s release about how all of his prior collaborative experiences set the stage for Let the World In to shine, writing on the piano, reality checks from recording, song sequencing, and more.

From your work with Billy Strings and Bruce Hornsby to your own music, you’ve always had a very collaborative way about you and this new record is no exception. What are your thoughts on the significance that played in the process of bringing this album to life?

John Mailander: Collaboration and improvisation are some of the most beautiful parts of being a musician. I love working with the widest variety of artists that I can. It’s a great way to become closer on a human level with the people you’re working with.

Initially, when I was starting this Forecast project, I envisioned it as more of a collective of musicians where we could all bring our own original tunes to the table and improvise freely. However, over time it’s formed into a more regular lineup with the six of us, allowing for the group to grow together as a unit.

Is the album title, Let the World In, meant to be a nod to that collaborative nature and outside influences that loom so large on the project?

Absolutely. The title has a lot of different angles to it. I hesitate to say everything it means to me because I don’t want to put it into too much of a box – I want to leave room for the listener to imagine what it means for them as well. It’s a follow-up to the last record [Look Closer] that we made in isolation during the pandemic.

While that record was very introspective, this new one is much more expansive, because of the world opening up more now and having this constant flood of information coming at us from all directions. It’s an overwhelming time to be alive, so this album feels like a companion piece to the last one, almost like the other side of the coin.

The title track also features the “Let the World In Sound Freedom Expressionists” – Hannah Delynn, Maya de Vitry, Gibb Droll, Ella Korth, Lindsay Lou, and Royal Masat. What was your intention with recruiting them for that one track, and what do you feel they brought to it that it may not have had otherwise?

They are a collection of very dear friends in Nashville who have been there for me in my personal life through a lot. It felt really important to me to credit these friends on the record in some way. That manifested into this collection of sound bites from each of them including poetry, sound effects, singing, and field recordings, which I put together into the sound collage you hear in the track. I love knowing that all of their voices are in there. I hope with each listen you can tune into different elements of it and hear new things.

In terms of outside influences on the record, I know Bruce Hornsby played a big role. What tricks and lessons from him did you implement into these songs?

Bruce is one of my greatest teachers. He’s been really encouraging over the past few years to pursue this project, grow into a band leader, and becoming more confident on the piano. I’m very rudimentary, but I’ve become obsessed with learning the piano recently, in large part thanks to Bruce and watching him play it so much. Everything on this record – except for the cover, “Road,” and the improvisational tracks – were ones I wrote on the piano, which was a huge change in direction for me.

I’ve also tried to incorporate elements of how he leads a band, like having dueling conversational solos rather than individual ones or weaving in and out of and finishing each other’s lines, into what we do with the Forecast as well.

Process-wise, how did the construction of these songs on the piano differ from when you’re composing on fiddle?

Going back to the title of this record, the piano gave it a wider scope compositionally for me, because I was thinking a lot more about bass lines and counter melodies and other things that as a fiddle player aren’t as prevalent. With the fiddle I think much more melodically – it’s kind of the top voice – which makes it harder for me to compose that way because even though it’s my primary instrument it’s hard to get a full picture with it. On the piano it felt more like writing for an entire ensemble rather than just writing a melody in chords.

You ended up knocking out the recording for this album during four consecutive days last year. What was it like doing it all rapid-fire like that compared to the more conventional, slow and steady approach?

It was intense, and we even recorded more than just what made it on the record. A lot of the work in post [production], for me, has been crafting everything we recorded into something that tells a story, which would’ve been tough to do across multiple sessions with the band over time, given that they’re all touring musicians as well. It felt good getting together with everyone from basically 10 to 6 every day and working our butts off as much as we could. It was the most concentrated and focused time we’ve ever had together as a band, as well as a reality check about things in the band we needed to work on.

It’s like putting a microscope on everything because we’ve been playing live at Dee’s every month for a few years, but now we’re in this hyper-focused environment where we can hear and analyze every minor detail. It opened up a lot of rabbit holes that I ended up going down later, but I think we really grew as a band through the process of making it this way.

You mentioned the time being a reality check for what you needed to work on as a band. What were some of those things?

It was like putting a microscope on how the particular instrumentation and individual voices on our instruments really blend and work together, revealing sonic and dynamic things that worked or not. It revealed some habits we’d gotten into through playing live that we discovered didn’t always translate to a record. The sessions were an awesome and intensive way to grow as a unit.

You’ve produced all of the Forecast records thus far. Is that something you plan to continue doing in the future?

Actually, the next record we do I’d like to have another producer. I love producing, but I’m realizing that for my own music I’d like to get another perspective in the room next time we do it. It’s really tough taking on both of those roles, but I’m really proud of what we did and grateful for producing it again this time around.

One of my favorite elements of the record is how well the songs flow from one into another – if listened through in order it presents almost as one long, 35-minute track. Tell me about sequencing this record and the importance for listeners to digest the full project from start to finish?

I’ve always been a nerd about sequencing records. I think it’s a really important part of the experience of listening to music. With this one I put a lot more attention into connecting the tracks. Some of them blend into one another, which is something that my mastering engineer Wayne Pooley – who I know through the Bruce Hornsby world – and I spent countless time laboring over the microseconds between every track to make sure each one hits you in a very intentional way.

Only one track on the album has lyrics – your cover of Nick Drake’s “Road.” Why’d you choose it, and what do you feel it contributes to the overall narrative you’re striving to present on the record?

[Nick’s] been a huge inspiration for years. Even as more of an instrumentalist I’ve always been drawn to his writing. But in terms of that song, I’ve known it for a while and love the entire record it’s on, Pink Man. About a year and a half ago – just before work on Let the World In began – I brought the song to the band. Nick Drake’s version is around two minutes long, but I thought it would be cool to use the song as a tool with our band to improvise and jam like we do at our live shows. We did just that by stretching it out to over nine minutes long. Lyrically it fits with the themes on the rest of the record, but it’s not heavy-handed either. It’s still open to interpretation, which is what I really value in it.

Initially I thought about having a guest vocalist on it, because on our last record we had a couple guest singers. But as we got closer and closer to the studio sessions I realized that it was important for me to sing this one myself, and I’m really proud with how it turned out.

If you could collaborate or have a jam session with any musician past or present, who would it be?

My hero, Trey Anastasio. It would be a dream to play or collaborate with him someday.

What has music, specifically when it comes to the creation process for Let the World In, taught you about yourself?

It’s allowed me to connect with my bandmates on a deeper level than I know how to do any other way. Through that I’m able to tap into those energies that exist between us as people, which is a type of connection I practice and strive to achieve every day.


Photo Credit: Michael Weintrob

One To Watch: With Connecticut Origins, On the Trail Find Their Way in Bluegrass

While Boston may claim its title as the bluegrass capital of the Northeast, acoustic quartet On the Trail is living proof that the Connecticut bluegrass scene is not only alive and well, it is thriving. Composed of four impeccable musicians who each attended Western Connecticut State University to earn vastly varying degrees, On the Trail weaves together an uncommon collection of backgrounds to deliver a unique sound.

Drawing inspiration from opera to the Beatles to jazz, these four achieve a sonic richness that will leave listeners edified and enamored. True to their band’s name, they trailblaze full force with the release of their first full-length album, Where Do We Go from Here.

BGS recently had the pleasure of sitting down with Tom Polizzi (mandolin, guitar, vocals), Matt Curley (bass, vocals), Charlie Widmer (guitar, vocals), and Austin Scelzo (fiddle, vocals) to discuss all things On the Trail.

Congrats on the new album! Will you tell me a little bit about how you all ended up in a bluegrass band together?

Tom Polizzi: Well for me, I was a really, really serious jazz guitar player for a number of years – it was my whole life. Then around the end of high school I started to get a little more disillusioned with what jazz was about and where that could take me in life. I knew about Chris Thile, though weirdly I didn’t know about mandolin’s association with bluegrass, but I knew I was really interested in mandolin, the tone and potential of the instrument. I got a little $400 scholarship from the music department at my high school and bought myself a mandolin as a graduation gift for myself.

I learned to play walking around a camp that I worked at that summer with the thing on my back, playing while I walked anywhere around the camp. I remember standing somewhere at that camp with the mandolin and someone asked, “Do you want to play a bluegrass tune?” I was like, “A what?” And then they taught me “Cherokee Shuffle.” From there, I just started learning fiddle tunes and while in college I pretty much gave up on jazz aspirations. Even though I got my scholarship to school with jazz, I just kind of started playing Doc Watson and bluegrass tunes and the rest is history.

Austin Scelzo: My background was in classical violin. I learned to read [music] growing up in school orchestra and then went on to study it in college. But in the summers of my later high school years, I got sent to those iconic fiddle camps that get so many people in the door and that opened up my whole world to non-classical playing, which eventually propelled me into spending my summers in college exploring different music camps and festivals. My freshman year of college I went to Grey Fox, my first bluegrass festival. And throughout college, I started playing in a bluegrass country group locally. I would play classical music in school systems and then spend summers floating from festival to festival, living out of my car and really digging into the bluegrass stuff, which over time grew to become my primary musical expressive tool. So between the classical/arranging mindset and my investment in traditional bluegrass, that’s kind of where my musical tastes lend themselves to this group.

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Charlie Widmer: Austin and I met when I was 19 years old – he’s actually the one that married my wife and me; he got ordained for it. We’ve known each other for such a long time. I had auditioned on a whim for a musical at 16. Didn’t know I could sing. They were doing Grease and I had a crush on a girl at the time. I went into that room and I met my now-wife, that same day at the audition, and I ended up getting the lead role. And then that kind of spiraled into more musical theater and trying to get into music school.

When Austin and I met, I was in school for classical singing and we were both interns at a church in Ridgefield [Connecticut], where we were both paid section leaders in the choir. After about a year of working together, somehow we ended up sitting next to each other. You know, we were in an a cappella group together, lots of different choirs, all these classes, but we just hadn’t connected. But as soon as we sat next to each other it was clear that we were getting along.

And so, fast forward five years, I was in the middle of a gig with my hip-hop soul band. I’d been doing stuff as a front man for a hip-hop soul group and it was awesome. I’m drenched in sweat, and Austin and I are talking in the break and I say to him, “Hey, man, I’ve been listening to Chris Thile and his group, Punch Brothers, and they’re sick, man. If that’s, like, a possibility in bluegrass, I’d love to do something where I’m playing guitar – let me know if a gig pops up.” We kind of agreed that he needed another year to finish school and get settled into being a teacher and everything. And a year later, almost to the day, he said, “I got us something if you want to drive.” It was perfect timing. My other group was falling apart. When this started, it just kept working and going. I don’t think any of us ever thought at that point, six years later we’d be here with an album.

Matt Curley: I was the last member to join On the Trail and I’ve been in the group for about three-and-a-half, four years now. I started playing guitar when I was in middle school and in early high school, I was playing in punk rock bands. When I got to high school, I really wanted to play in the jazz band playing guitar, but the guitarist was very good, So I thought, “I’ll play bass. It’s easy, it’s four strings.” Then the band director points to the upright bass. I remember thinking, “No, no, not that one!” So during that rehearsal it was the first time I ever played upright, and I eventually came back to the bass.

I’m the kind of guy who’s switched instruments several times. I switched to percussion, joining the drum line. I ended up marching drum corps for a few years, which led me to majoring in percussion at WestConn and then to get my master’s degree in Tennessee, right outside of Nashville, in classical percussion performance. For a while I thought I was going to be in professional orchestras, as I was training and practicing to take auditions for triangles and cymbals. Glad I didn’t do that. Then I started teaching band down there in Tennessee and I ended up moving back up here. I was teaching and Austin was the orchestra teacher in the same school, so we started jamming. Up to this point, I knew nothing about bluegrass. Even living in Nashville for a while, I knew nothing about bluegrass. Then I just happened to own a bass, so that led to me showing up to an On the Trail rehearsal. Here we are, three and a half years later.

CW: We also had a banjo player with us for the first three years, Chet, who was from Mississippi and originally grew up in Nashville. Chet lent a hand on some of the songs, even on the album. He got a doctoral offer to go down to Florida and get his doctorate in philosophy. He’s a genius, really such a smart guy – we always hope that Chet will join us again. We just always have a lot of fun together. I think that can be rare in groups.

Absolutely. Y’all have amazing chemistry and it’s evident. You recently released the band’s first full length album, Where Do We Go from Here. What are you each proudest of on the album?

TP: I think the fact that I actually wrote songs with lyrics and they made it somewhere. After I finished school with an audio engineering degree, I did our whole first EP – all of the editing, mixing, mastering – myself. And with this record, I felt like that kind of stuff culminated in a different way, where I knew how to be on the other side of the booth, so to speak, in a way that was productive. I think I was able to help us keep the sessions thoughtful and productive throughout, from a perspective of final product.

I also love that I’ve got a couple of very sad or introspective songs on the album, one of which my fiancée didn’t know I had written. We were on the phone with her mom and she was talking about “Help Me” on the album. She said something along the lines of, “This is so devastating. Tom, you really wrote something beautiful.”  And Claire goes, “You wrote that devastating song about heartbreak and loss?!” I had all these things written years ago after I broke up with my ex-girlfriend. Claire had never heard it because I don’t sing it – Charlie sings it on the record and we don’t play it at shows very much. She didn’t know I was capable of even having such sad words in my brain.

AS: I love that this album captures three or four original songs from each of us. My three songs all have a really different feel than anything else I’ve put out and they all mean something really powerful to me. They each capture a timestamp of a part of my life. The title track, “Where Do We Go from Here,” was one of the last songs we recorded, and one of the last songs that we even talked about putting together. It almost didn’t make the album at all. But we’re so proud of that track. That’s the song I’m by far the most pleased with. I also really like the way that “Trouble in My Soul” captured a different side of my voice that I’ve never captured on a record. It’s a lot more gritty, which is kind of cool, and then “Can’t Get You Out of My Mind” has some really nice moments too.

CW: For me, honestly I think the whole album is the pride point. When we did our first record, we had no clue what we were doing. I was really green to bluegrass in so many ways. Those first couple years were trial by fire, where I had no clue about any artists or vernacular and I was constantly terrified of every gig and jam. It felt like everyone was speaking a language. This record feels very full circle – we’d been talking about it forever. It really captures who On the Trail is. As songwriters, I think all of us have gained some confidence, though so much of that has come from just performing these pieces and getting positive feedback from the audience the last six years. When we started we didn’t know we had something, but our friends and family and even strangers told us to keep going. It just kept fueling us, you know? So, yeah, when I think about the proudest thing, it’s that we have this collection.

Given the diversity of musical backgrounds you each come from, where do you feel like your aligned priorities are? Do you have through lines about what you all prioritize and value musically?

TP: I would say one of the biggest factors that held us together is just that joy of making music. One of our biggest frictions, probably, is that diversity of background – even now, in the background of this interview, I’m just wrapping up my marketing job, my day gig, Matt’s driving home from teaching school, and Charlie and Austin both freelance more and do more things that are full-time music. A lot of it has been about finding that balance that brings us all joy and keeps us believing in what we’re doing. But you know, on our toughest days, what drives us ahead is that we love making music together, we love making music on our own and sharing it with one another.

CW: Yeah, as any musician knows, we’re always just chasing that incredible moment. We all share a true appreciation of music, and we are all deeply aligned regarding what exciting music feels like. When something’s hot, we all can agree immediately – it’s not even so much of a discussion.

AS:  We’re all also pretty consistent with the vocal harmony, regardless of the song. No matter the arrangement, we value strong vocal harmony and strong vocal presence. So a big part of this group is understanding harmony to a point where we can get really good three-part and other types of arrangements.

TP: For probably the first year and a half, I didn’t sing a note in the band. Vocals have become such a big thing. I learned from these guys, who are and always will be better singers than I, but they coaxed it out of me.

MC: Same for me. I’ve never taken a voice lesson or anything and now I’m singing four or five songs. It’s incredible.

For our final question – you’re our One to Watch, but who are you watching right now? Any creatives, musical artists, or otherwise that are inspiring you right now? Could even be a TV show or a Tik Tok creator.

TP: I’m sure they’ve been featured here a lot, but someone who’s been talked about a lot in our band is AJ Lee & Blue Summit. We love them. We’ve played with them. We’re inspired by them. Lots of our friends just around here, you know, keep us moving. The Ruta Beggars are doing fantastic things. Cahaba Roots, High Horse – all of those guys have so much going on. And if you’re looking for a good TV show to watch, watch Shrinking, because it’ll just rip your heart out. Oh, and one sleeper album – if you love all the music that we’ve talked about, this is an album I’ve heard no one else talk about. Maybe I’m just not talking to the right people, but it’s an album called Passages by Ethan Sherman. It’s got Wes Corbett on the banjo, and Thomas Cassell plays amazing mandolin on that album. I found it very inspiring.

CW: For me, a constant, big influence in songwriting and sticking to your vision and making it work has been Theo Katzman, who’s one of the guys from Vulfpeck. His last record especially resonated incredibly. All of his records have, but that one was during the process of making my album, as well as On the Trail’s album, and it empowered just feeling brave enough to do what we felt was right for the music. He was a big inspiration.

Allen Stone is also a huge inspiration for me as a singer and as a songwriter and he just dropped a new project. I always come back to Nickel Creek and Punch Brothers. Nickel Creek’s last album, I thought, was stunningly brilliant and beautiful.

MC: It’s really a great time for bluegrass, country, and folk music, even in the Northeast, not just down south [or] in Nashville. There are a lot of groups that are getting really big here. I mean, we have a Connecticut group, North County Band, that is doing some good things. Another group that I played with this summer, Raquel and the Wildflowers, from the Poughkeepsie area, are also doing great things. Shout out to the Rock Hearts, the other group Austin fiddles with. They’re great too.

AS: I mean, I would definitely have to reiterate the bands that Tom mentioned. We’re so steeped in the New England scene, we play so many shows, and my best friends are in so many of these bands. We’ve been friends with the Ruta Beggars forever. I mean, they were my earliest experience seeing young people play bluegrass music at Grey Fox. I just love those guys – they are so hardworking. They just got signed this year and are doing awesome stuff.

I go to IBMA every year with the Rock Hearts and I see some of the upcoming bands, and every once in a while one will really strike me, and the one that struck me this year was Never Come Down. I got to hang out with them in Colorado and I was hanging with the Stillhouse Junkies, who have a new player from New England that just joined them this year, so they’re a quartet now. They’re doing some really cool new stuff. Another band is Della Mae, and they’ve been around for a really long time, but they’re still producing amazing new songs. I mean, some of the songwriting that comes out of the group has absolutely made me weep, multiple times. Some of the songs are unrecorded—they’re still building a repertoire that’s really meaningful and really powerful.

I think we always have an eye on Twisted Pine, too, who just came out with a new album, and they have all these really fun videos, too. They’re doing something that I think we hope to do as well, which is kind of keep a foot in the bluegrass door, but also step into spaces that bluegrass music hasn’t been to. I think our music is suited for that, to get it outside of the traditional festival circuit, the traditional concert series, and preserve the tradition we’re so grateful for while also being innovative.


Photo Credit: Courtesy of the artist.

Becca Stevens Strips It All Back on ‘Maple to Paper’

In her dynamic, restless career, Becca Stevens plans to never repeat herself, like the proverbial waterway that’s never the same river twice.

Since being noticed by New York Times jazz critic Nate Chinen in 2008 as a 24-year-old “best kept secret,” she’s collaborated with: David Crosby and his Lighthouse Band; jazz orchestra Snarky Puppy; the modernist ensemble Kneebody; pianist Brad Mehldau; harmony genius Jacob Collier; the neo-classical Attacca Quartet; and others. Her five solo studio albums, especially the mind-stretching and richly grooving Regina (2018) and Wonderbloom (2022), have mingled folk-grounded melodies and jazz-deep harmonies with pop dazzle. The common denominator has been her uncommon voice, which is conservatory-trained, but utterly unique and enthralling. She is, in my humble opinion, one of the finest overall musicians making song-based music today, a peer to 21st century savants St. Vincent and Madison Cunningham.

One frontier that remained for Stevens was, ironically, the most obvious for a singer-songwriter – the solo acoustic album. Her version of this venerable format finally arrived in late August with Maple to Paper, a 13-song collection that was shaped at every level by a series of landmark life events. After marrying Nathan Schram, violist in the Attacca Quartet, she gave birth to daughters in 2022 and 2024. Their family moved from New York to Princeton, New Jersey. Her mother died, as did her close collaborator and friend David Crosby.

Stevens alchemizes this season of change, love, and loss through songs that challenge conventional forms with rich and fearless lyrics that play at times like Emily Dickinson set to classical guitar. On the cover, she’s demurely naked behind a guitar. In the grooves, she’s as vulnerable as we’ve ever heard her. As she told me of her emotional multiverse of the past few years, “I felt uncomfortable about sharing it, but I also was like, well, if I’m going to do this, I might as well make it completely exposed.”

It’s easy to suppose that the changes of the past few years – moving, having children, losing your mom – made a solo acoustic record sound more appealing at both artistic and practical levels?

Becca Stevens: Absolutely, yeah. You’re spot on. Two things can be true. So the choice to do this album completely solo and from home both served the concept and integrity of the album. But it also was maybe the only way that I could have gotten it done during that time.

Just to put that into perspective, you know, there was the logistics of the grieving. The loss of my mom was super fresh, and I had a six-month-old who was part-time in daycare. And then towards the end of the recording and writing process, I was pregnant again. So there was the logistics of being a new mom, of having morning sickness, of being in a new place, of grieving my mom, and all of that was so much more possible to do from home. But I resisted it.

For a long time, I had the idea of recording the demos at home and then going into the studio. But I went back and forth a lot with Nic Hard, who mixed it with me. He also did Wonderbloom. And the deeper that we got into the material, the more crystal clear it was that the songs were best served if performed live – guitar and singing at the same time – and performed at home, where I was really in the character and in the feelings.

Did writing and making art feel like what you wanted to do under all those cross-cutting pressures and changes, or did you have to force yourself a bit through the work?

“Want” is maybe the wrong word. I felt like, at least for the grieving part, I had to do it because it was like I was going to explode if I didn’t do something. And it was a confusing loss – something that left me with a lot of questions. Ever since I was a kid, I’ve been somebody who processes confusing emotions through writing songs or stories, or art in some way.

I felt like I needed to do it. But also, yes, there were times where I just absolutely did not want to and just wanted to lie on the floor. And I had to find a way to incorporate that as part of the process, so that I could forgive myself. I literally had a futon on the floor of my workspace, where I told that part of my brain, “You are invited to lay down there whenever you need to. You’re not at a studio. The clock’s not ticking. You’re not paying for this.” I called it my Womb Room. And I would put on salt lamps and put the lights down really low and lay down. And then some of the songs came from that space.

Some of these feel more like classical art songs than folk songs, in that they’re not shaped around a set number of measures or predictable beats. Did they feel a bit like that to you?

Yeah, the song “Payin’ to be Apart” comes to mind. It definitely felt that way; a little less folky, more like poetry that just happens to be on a wave of music. It’s interesting to hear you say that, because in the writing process – harmonically and in the accompaniment – I took a much simpler approach than what I have done before, on Regina or Wonderbloom, on everything really. Because I put so much intention and honesty and, like, blood, sweat, and tears into the lyric, I gave myself permission to let the waters that it was floating on be a little less turbulent artistically, a little less complex and a little more like I was trying to cradle them and deliver them in a way that takes care of them and makes it easier to metabolize – or something.

Was your mindset different, knowing there’s not going to be the grid of the drum beat? Can drums be a bit of a cage sometimes?

Yeah, they can be a cage. But they can also be like something that’s really cozy to lean on in the arrangement. Like, I can drop everything and have it just be drums and vocals for a verse and it feels really good. But for this album, I set a goal that the songs are meant to be performed as just me and the guitar, because that’s how they were recorded. That means that whatever break that I gave you in Wonderbloom by stripping down the arrangement and going to drums now needs to be created with whatever tools I have by myself, whether that’s narrative, or a right hand finger pattern, or fill in the blank.

This made me wonder how much you have performed solo acoustically in your career, given the emphasis on arrangement on a lot of your records.

Quite a bit, yeah. I have a lot of respect for my bandmates. And if there were ever gigs that we were offered where I felt like I couldn’t cover their fee and treat them well, I would just take it solo. I’ve done that a lot. I’ve done a lot of solo tours. A lot of my writing has started out solo, and I have solo versions – for example, “You Didn’t Know,” the song from Wonderbloom that was inspired from watching the documentary about R. Kelly. That song, I poured my heart out solo and then stripped the solo version back when I was in the studio turning it into the Wonderbloom version.

Solo feels like a home base to me, and it’s something that I think I’ve resisted, because maybe I felt like it wouldn’t be enough. There’s this narrative, especially in the booking world, that they don’t want to book you unless you have more than one or two people on stage, because it’s not enough to create the energy to get the focus of the audience. And maybe it’s not loud enough, you know? I also had that in mind. This might not be very marketable, but I’ve got to do my best to just serve these songs to the best of my ability. And it’s got to get done anyway, because this is how I’m processing this part of my life,

Meanwhile, your tempo of collaborative work never seems to let up. I have my personal favorites, but can you address some of your favorite partnerships here in the last few years?

We haven’t mentioned this yet as part of the story of this record, but knee-deep in the writing and recording stages of this album, we also lost David Crosby. I’d already gotten punched in the face and then I was like, kicked on the ground. Not that it’s about me. The whole world grieved that loss. As I mentioned, when I lost my mom, it was a very complicated grieving process. I took a lot of inspiration from listening to albums like Sufjan Stevens’s Carrie & Lowell, where it’s okay for grief to be ugly and complicated and to show that. But with Croz, it was so sad, because I loved him so much, and I loved being in his band, and I loved writing music with him. But the presence that he held in my life didn’t diminish. I couldn’t hug him, but there was this sort of heavenly presence when I was writing the songs for this album, where I could hear him and see him in my mind, kind of rooting me along.

And tell me about Michael League of Snarky Puppy and the universe that he inhabits with the GroundUP record label, which has been supportive of you all this time. It’s such a fascinating record company. I feel like they’ve got a lot to teach the music industry about curation and cultivation of a tribe, and I’d love for you to remark on how that model has served you.

I like the word tribe. I often think of it as family, but I think tribe is even stronger. I feel safe with that label in a way that I’ve never felt safe with labels before, especially major ones, where, if you’re not performing exactly the way that they want you to, you get kind of put on a shelf, and then your art doesn’t get heard because, because you’re not pleasing the corporation.

With GroundUP, I’ve always felt like whatever I’m getting into is what they want me to do. They’re like, “Your health and happiness and artistry come first and if that’s what you need to make right now, we’re behind it.” And I can’t tell you how liberating and comforting that is as an artist to know that the people that are helping you put your music out have your back. And we all love each other too. We all play together and love each other too.

And speaking of Sufjan Stevens, you got to be on Broadway in his Illinoise musical. What did that add to your world?

Yeah, it was a limited run on Broadway and I did half of the run. So I had Isla, my second daughter, on February 24 of this year. And then I got a call from Timo Andres, who did the orchestrations, saying, “I know you’re on maternity leave. This is crazy. I shouldn’t even be calling you, but I can’t not think of you for this role. Is there a world where you would ever audition for this?” I was like, “Yeah, I could audition and see what happens…” and didn’t expect to get it. I came in with my newborn baby. I handed her to my manager, did the audition, and they called me within a day and said they’d love for me to do it.

Initially I thought, “There’s no way.” I’m giving you all of this extra detail because a huge part of the experience for me was the chaos and the balance of the life that I was living at home for the first half of that day in Princeton – nursing my baby and being a new mama – and then handing her to my husband and jumping on the train for two hours, going into the city just in time to perform, and then coming back home and doing it all again and nursing through the night. It was this superhuman thing that initially I thought, “Oh, there’s no way this is going to work.”

The whole experience was like a dream state – being on stage and singing that music, which I’ve loved for so long. And also, having it not be about me was very refreshing. I’m not the band leader and I’m singing someone else’s music as a narrative that’s coming from the bodies of the dancers. We can lean on the coziness of the production, and just enjoy it.

I would say coming out of that helped me to be less self-absorbed. The headspace that I was in for Maple to Paper was very me, me, me, me, me, me. And then Illinoise was like, “No, it’s not about you. It’s about being in service to something greater than you.” Whether you’re writing a song about your feelings or singing somebody else’s, that’s always what it’s been.


Editor’s Note: Need more Becca Stevens? Check out our recent Basic Folk conversation with Stevens here.

Photo Credit: Shervin Lainez

Artist of the Month: Dead in December

(Editor’s Note: This December, we continue our annual series – see also: Dolly in December, Dawg in December, Dylan in December, and Del in December – by celebrating the iconic, trailblazing jam band, the Grateful Dead, all month long! We’ll be featuring the Grateful Dead as our Artist of the Month, celebrating their enormous impact on bluegrass and roots music over the next few weeks.

To kick off our coverage, BGS contributor Garret Woodward pens a heartfelt and personal AOTM reveal. Plus, don’t miss our exhaustive Essential Grateful Dead Playlist below.)

The single most profound moment within my 39 years of existence (thus far) is the first time I heard the Grateful Dead. Not far behind that life-altering experience were my initial encounter with LSD (in high school) and finally cracking open Jack Kerouac’s seminal 1957 novel, On the Road (in college).

Summer 1994. I was nine years old and living a simple, yet happily mischievous childhood in the small North Country community of Rouses Point, New York. One mile from the Canadian Border. One mile from the state line of Vermont. Solitude. Desolation. Rural America. Mornings spent building tree forts and wandering vast cornfields surrounding my childhood home. Afternoons jumping off the dock into nearby Lake Champlain.

Even at that time, I was a bona fide music freak. Whether it was Top 40 radio (Gin Blossoms, Melissa Etheridge, Collective Soul, Sheryl Crow) blasting out of the small boom box in my bedroom or whatever my parents shoved into the cassette deck in the family minivan (Willie Nelson, Beatles, Rolling Stones, Nat King Cole, George Jones), I was in search of “the sound.”

But, everything in my existence changed one evening that summer at a family cookout at our camp on the lake. Sitting at the picnic table — chowing down on some burgers, beans and potato salad — I noticed a hat my aunt’s boyfriend was wearing. The logo on the front was of a dancing bear, with the back featuring a skull with a lightning bolt. I inquired.

“It’s the Grateful Dead,” he replied with a Cheshire Cat grin emerging from a bushy beard. “Have you ever listened to the Dead, man?” No, I replied. After dinner, he walked me over to his early 1990s Volkswagen Jetta. He hopped in, rolled the windows down and turned on the stereo. Again, with a grin, as if he knew what was going to happen once he pressed play and cranked the volume.

It was the Skeletons from the Closet album. The opening tune, “The Golden Road (To Unlimited Devotion),” hit me like an undulating series of waves in some endless ocean of melodic tones and lyrical truths. It was just like when Dorothy Gale entered the world of color in The Wizard of Oz.

Nothing really was ever the same after that moment. It was not only the first music I’d discovered on my own – without the radio or my parents’ influence – the Dead, for some unexplained reason at the time, immediately became “my band.” Something clicked deeply inside of me. I awoke. And I had arrived.

Soon, a seismic shift occurred in my adolescent life. I wore Dead shirts to my Catholic elementary school to the dismay of the nuns. Tacked up Jerry Garcia posters on my bedroom wall. The swirling sensation of “Sugar Magnolia” or “St. Stephen” echoing from the boom-box. Incense burning on the windowsill overlooking the cornfields and unknown horizon of my intent. I even had a small shrine to Jerry on my bookshelf for several years after he died. I was all-in.

Musically, the Dead were a bunch of incredibly talented bluegrass, folk, and jazz freaks, who were inspired by the onslaught of the Beatles to plug in and go electric. The band itself was this massive sponge, one which soaked in any and all influences it crossed paths with — either onstage or merely wandering down the road of life. That authentic sense of curiosity and discovery is key to the Dead’s magic throughout its decades of improvisational splendor.

At its core, the Dead’s message resonated within my often-bullied and ignored self as a kid. If you like the Dead, you’ll always find a friend out there in the universe to connect with. The band’s symbols are beacons of love, compassion, and acceptance once you walk out the front door. In essence, I’d found my tribe, this wild-‘n’-wondrous ensemble of loving oddballs, eccentric weirdos, and all-around jovial folk. My kind of people, who remain so to this day.

The Dead is about personal freedom. To not only be yourself, but to also seek out the intrinsic beauty of people, places and things in this big ol’ world of ours. Have adventures. Pursue wisdom. Radiate love. Be kind. Damnit, be kind. All of these things offered from the music and its followers were placed in my emotional and spiritual toolbox as I began to wander the planet on my own following high school, college and impending adulthood.

And here I stand. Age 39. That nine-year-old discovering the Dead is still inside of me somewhere, still burning incense and blasting “St. Stephen.” That youngster’s excitement for all things music (especially live), endless curiosity for what lies just around the corner, and running with a reckless abandon towards the unknowns of tomorrow are as strong and vibrant as ever — especially through this ongoing catalyst that is my career in the written word.

Case in point, I recently headed to the Bluegrass Music Hall of Fame & Museum in Owensboro, Kentucky, for another celebratory weekend for its current exhibit: “Jerry Garcia: A Bluegrass Journey,” on assignment and on the ground covering the festivities. An incredibly curated collection of rare Garcia artifacts and wisdom, the showcase will run onsite until next spring.

Before the inception of the Grateful Dead, Garcia was completely immersed in the bluegrass and folk scenes in the San Francisco Bay area in the late 1950s and early 1960s. He was part of numerous acoustic acts and ensembles throughout the bountiful period — the culmination of that vast knowledge and in-depth experience being poured into the Dead’s formation in 1965.

To note, there’s a lot to be said about Garcia’s talents on the banjo being applied to what would become his signature tone on the electric guitar. And to that notion, add in the sheer lyrical aptitude of Robert Hunter, who not only penned many of the Dead’s iconic melodies, but was also on a parallel journey to Garcia’s early on and throughout the band’s 30-year trajectory.

And there I was in Owensboro, some 400 miles from my current home in Western North Carolina. Traveling for hours just to arrive on the mighty Ohio River – the state line of Kentucky and Indiana, this crossroads of the Southeast and Midwest. And for what? To push further and farther down the cosmic rabbit hole that is Jerry Garcia, the Grateful Dead, and those who follow.

The next 48 hours were a whirlwind of sound and scope. Seemingly endless tribute sets to Garcia and the Dead at the Woodward Theater inside the museum from the Kitchen Dwellers, Lindsay Lou, Fireside Collective, and members of the Infamous Stringdusters to late-night jam sessions in hotel rooms next door.

The Grateful Dead are arguably the only musical entity to exist that – regardless of who or what genre is being represented – once one of their tunes is placed into a performance, folks either show up in droves or are already present with ears perked up to what’s radiating out from the stage. It’s a fact that no matter what style of music you play, if it involves the Dead in some form or fashion, Deadheads are game to check it out. You could be a polka group and we’ll be right there, standing front row, the second you roll into “Althea” or “Shakedown Street.” The music provides, always and forever.

Before I left Owensboro and the Garcia celebration at the museum, I found myself on a bourbon distillery tour on Saturday afternoon. I walked into the enormous facility and checked in with the host. All by myself and waiting for the tour to start, the host tapped me on the shoulder.

“You like the Dead?” his face lit up, pointing to the Dead stealie tattoo on the back of my right leg. “Sure do, my brother,” I shot back with a smile of solidarity. We talked about our favorite live Dead recordings and where we’ve caught Dead & Company in concert recently, kindred spirits now eternally connected by this band of roving musical pirates. It’s a genuine interaction that happens often to Deadheads and something I don’t ever take for granted.

Even as we stand in this uncertain time in American history – where nothing is the same, everything is the same – the Grateful Dead remain this portal to escape, to purposely choose compassion, camaraderie, and community. It’s about cultivation of one’s self and of the sheer magnitude and gratitude of daily life, so long as you stroll this earth with the pure and honest intent to connect, to listen, and to understand.

“I will get by, I will survive.”


 

What’s the Magical Chemistry Behind Twisted Pine? It’s ‘Love Your Mind’

Love Your Mind, the new album from Boston/Toronto-based band Twisted Pine, is a delicious exploration of joy, growth, and self-love, packaged into tight grooves and soulful vocals. The quartet – which features Dan Bui, Kathleen Parks, Anh Phung, and Chris Sartori – is beloved for its genre-bending approach to acoustic music; they continue to defy expectations with their mandolin, fiddle, flute, and bass instrumentation.

What I noticed most about this new record, besides its refreshing positivity (in this economy?!), was the seamlessly collaborative sound. In discussing this in a BGS interview with the entire band, they explained that they’ve taken these past years to hone their collective voice as a group. With this new album, they felt that they had found that voice.

Together, we all agreed that the name “Twisted Mind(s)” might be more appropriate for the band at this point. Below is our conversation, where we cover Love Your Mind and the joy within it, the inspirations found in jamming, how flute fits in at bluegrass festivals, and so much more.

I love the amount of joy and uplift that comes through this album; it’s rare among Americana albums in this day and age. Is that feeling something that the band gravitates to organically? Or was it a choice you made specifically about this project?

Kathleen Parks: I think that happened pretty organically. Some of the songs started coming out of the post-COVID era. “After Midnight,” for example, was written after the first Ossipee [Valley Music] Festival in person after the pandemic and I tried to capture the joyful feeling of being around each other again. … Some of the album started in that appreciative state.

Dan Bui: I would add that throughout the album some subjects are a little bit more somber – there’s a theme of personal growth and learning through hardship and dealing with things like anxiety, making mistakes, and learning from them – but it’s always viewed through a positive lens, and musically, certainly, it is more of an upbeat fun vibe. That’s what we try to put out into the world and bring to our shows in general.

I love that song, “After Midnight (Nothing Good Happens).” Can you tell me more about that one?

KP: I was deciding not to party one night and [was] walking to my tent … listening to the roar of fiddle tunes and good times being had. I was like, “Oh my god that sounds so fun, but I also have two sets to play tomorrow.” My dad used to say that title phrase to me as a kid. He was also a musician who toured a lot so I always thought, “Cool people stay up super late.” My dad was like, “No, nothing good happens after midnight.”

Your fans have been starving for a new Twisted Pine record. What have you all been working on in the four years since your last release?

DB: Releasing our last record [Right Now] in 2020 was a huge challenge. We had to pivot and we weren’t able to do what we wanted to do, performance-wise, for a couple of years. So by the time we were able to get out there, we kind of went “all in” on touring and working on our live show. Before the pandemic, we had only really been playing with Anh for a short time, about six months. Since she lives in Canada, it was impossible to get together in person for a very long time.

Chris Sartori: Even getting into the studio with Anh for Right Now, it felt like we were just starting to figure out how that might work. These past couple of years have been really about ironing out the sound we had envisioned as a quartet and getting it to a place where we could write for that sound.

Anh Phung: It felt like with the 2020 record I was injected into a band that already existed, but Love Your Mind came from a place of more foundational collaboration. I was truly a part of the band before we got in there and recorded.

KP: I also feel like on this new album we had more time to discuss, “How do we want this song to sound?” We brought in players like Ethan Robbins, Ali McGuirk – just because we could. We had time and space and we weren’t being rushed into anything.

I also wanted to ask you about the “A Beautiful Phase (90’s Song).” Is it a ’90s song to you? Or is it just referencing nostalgia for the ’90s as “a beautiful phase”?

KP: For some reason, it ended up in the voice memos with that title. For me sonically, it very much has a “Bitter Sweet Symphony” vibe and I always see chrome when I sing it – that really, really specific blue chrome color, which I remember as a child.

Yes! I had that nail polish!

KP: Yep. It’s kind of looking back on a younger self, talking to a younger self. … For me, it’s about the missed opportunities with being a musician. You miss a lot of time with your family or family events [and] the song is almost apologizing for that.

DB: That song was one of the more collaborative ones. We had these early writing sessions at Kathleen’s where we got together and just jammed to see what came out. … There was this one section that turned into the chorus of that song. At one point, Chris and I were sitting around and decided, “Let’s just build this around this moody section.” We worked with that and kind of introduced a verse and this idea of having it modulate to a bunch of different keys. We roughed out a structure and that was what the lyrics were written over. When we went into the studio it was fresh – a lot of choices were happening in real time. It was cool to have it just come together like that.

Do you write a lot from jamming?

KP: It is a mix of jamming and melodic ideas. The final product is usually the outcome of playing the song down with a lot of different grooves and ideas, seeing what fits, and what we can pull off.

DB: One example is “Green Flash.” Kathleen was playing this 12-string electric guitar and this melodic idea kind of popped out and we decided to make something out of that sound.

That song also features Jerry Douglas. How did that happen?

KP: We had seen him at Earl Scruggs Music Festival and he said, “If there’s any way I can help, just let me know…” So, when that song started coming together, we were like, “We should ask Jerry to be on this!” In the studio we made this video asking if he would play on this song and sent it to him – and he said sure!

AP: Jerry has the exact style for it. I feel like the tune has the vibe of Strength In Numbers, so he fits perfectly.

OK, this question is specifically for Anh: What has your experience been like being the “flutist at the bluegrass festival?”

AP: Honestly, by the time I was playing with Twisted Pine, it was a pretty soft landing, because a lot of the work building my credibility in the scene came before that. Even going to IBMA, I was expecting a lot of pushback, but it has been pretty shocking how welcoming people have been. I think the initial expectation was pretty low. People were skeptical of how I, playing a flute, would work within this band, so when they hear it and it’s going well, it has even more of an effect!

Can you tell me about the actual recording of the album?

DB: I think a big part of the sound of the record should be credited to our co-producer, Dan Cardinal. We have worked with Dan on every record that we’ve done and he’s just someone who understands what we’re going for. He does a great job at capturing the organic sound of our instruments, but is also very creative and able to augment the sounds of our band … subtly and sometimes not so subtly. His choices make the recording sound a little bit bigger, wider and deeper. He was really valuable in that way. A lot of the songs were new, still being worked out, and he had some great third party observations.

KP: He’s good at placing sounds so that you feel them, but you’re not suddenly met with this random out-of-place soundscape in an otherwise acoustic recording.

That’s something I loved about the record. Even though you’re genre-bending, the sound is still so acoustic, where I imagine it would have been easy to add drums and synths, etc. Were there specific records you were referencing for production?

CS: I think each track has its own inspiration. Like “Start/Stop” is very Motown, “Chanel Perfume” is going more for an Aretha “Rock Steady” thing; each track we approached as kind of its own world.

Okay, last question, what does the title, Love Your Mind, mean to you?

CS: That sort of reared its head after we were finished recording and [after] looking back at what themes had emerged. We kind of identified that as a common thread that ties the record together, even though sonically it goes in all of these directions.

KP: For me, it means that whatever state you’re in – dark or frantic – you have to just try to look at yourself from someone else’s point of view and love yourself completely through all the stages.

AP: This is kind of riffing on a different idea, but I also think of Love Your Mind as – it’s common knowledge that our band has been hard to identify genre-wise, and I think that even though this album has a mixture of genres the sound that came out of this album is kind of unified in the way that the four of us play together. Twisted Pine is the four of our minds together, so the magical chemistry is loving our minds.


(Editor’s Note: Want more Twisted Pine? Check out our Basic Folk episode on the group featuring an exclusive interview with fiddler Kathleen Parks. Listen and subscribe here.)

Photo Credit: Jo Chattman

‘Things Done Changed’ For Jerron Paxton – Now He Writes the Songs, Too

The music, sparse and spooky, sounds at the same time strangely universal and possibly from the last century, but as Jerron Paxton notes in his album title, Things Done Changed. The major difference on Paxton’s fifth album (including his 2021 duet set with Dennis Lichtman) is a big one. He wrote the songs.

“It wasn’t a very difficult decision,” Paxton said. “I had always had a list of tunes to record of my own compositions. I had to get enough cogent tunes to be an album, because you can’t have something that’s all over the place.

“You can’t have overtures with your hoedowns.”

The material on Things Done Changed is evidence that Paxton is no novice songwriter. These are words infused with hard living, what he calls “a good album full of blues tunes.”

In the standout track, “So Much Weed,” Paxton weaves amusement and a little resentment that there are Black people still serving time for minor drug offenses in an era when legal marijuana stores are in many states.

“Things done changed from the ’90s until now/ Lend me your ear and I’ll sure tell you how/ We got so much weed/ And the law don’t care/ My poor uncles used to have to run and hide/ Now they sit on their front porch with pride.”

A telephone call with Paxton is an adventure. He doesn’t back down and enjoys putting you on the spot if you’re susceptible to that.

A lot of your work is in vintage music styles. Why not a more contemporary sound?

Jerron Paxton: I play a diverse array of styles. I started off playing the banjo and the fiddle. As a matter of fact, I’m one of the few professional Black five-string banjo players in the world.

You have roots in Los Angeles and your family is from Louisiana. How did each of those places affect your music?

Well, I play the music of that culture, so it affected it in totality. It’s like being Irish and playing Irish music.

Could you give me a sense of how you evolved as a musician?

I started off with the fiddle and moved to the banjo and the guitar and piano and things like that. It was just a natural evolution, getting interested in one and that leading to another and to another, growing up in the house that was full of the blues. That’s mostly what my family listened to. [My aunt] almost listened to strictly the blues, while my grandma was kind of eclectic like me, and listened to everything. She liked Hank Williams and all sorts of country music and jazz and everything like that.

… I grew up in, first of all, a family full of Black people. So I got exposed to all sorts of Black folk music and Black popular music of every generation. You were just as liable to hear [Mississippi] John Hurt and Son House and Bukka White in my house as to hear Marvin Gaye, Michael Jackson, and Sam Cooke. If you heard bluegrass, that was mostly me. I was the one blasting Flatt & Scruggs and people like that.

You didn’t grow up in Louisiana, yet your music seems to be tied to music from the South.

My grandparents grew up there. My family migrated to Los Angeles with the death of Emmett Till and they brought their culture with them. But that doesn’t say much, because the majority of the culture in South Central [Los Angeles] is from Louisiana, so it’s not like we went someplace completely foreign. We went someplace where we were surrounded by people who were from where we were from.

I love the song “So Much Weed.” It’s a funny song about a serious thing, that there are many Black people in prison for marijuana convictions on charges that are now legal. Do people laugh when you play it?

I don’t play it live. Well, I don’t play it on stage. I usually play it in small gatherings for close friends.

Would you tell me more about your grandmother and how she influenced your music?

She was a fun, loving lady from northwestern Louisiana. My mother had to work, so I spent most of my time with [my grandmother] and grew up gardening and fishing, and getting the culture that you get when you’re raised in the house with your grandmother. Her mother was across the street. So I had four generations of family on one street.

So some of the songs on Things Done Changed were written some time ago. Why sit on them?

Some of the tunes were kind of personal and I just sort of kept them for myself and my friends. Other ones I had been singing on stage for a little while and said, “Maybe I should record this song first chance I get.” And other ones I had been singing since I was little, since my grandma helped find some words to them. So it’s all kinds of processes. Some of them take a lot of labor.

Do you mostly like to work alone live, or do you like to mix it up with other musicians sometimes?

It depends on the context. If I’m being hired as a soloist, that’s what you do, and that seems to be the most in demand. There’s not too many people who can go on the stage by themselves and hold the audience for 45 or 90 minutes or two hours with just the instrument. So people tend to hire me for that and there’s a lot of solo material unexplored because of that. But I play jazz music, so that’s a collective art. I play country music, which is also a collective art. I play blues music, which is a collective art. So you know, they’re all collective, but the solo is what people ask for. It travels easy.

So how would you like your career to develop? Do you have a plan?

I’d like to be filthy rich, just grotesquely rich and have a mansion with a lake. [Laughs] … But to be honest, I’m kind of enjoying building what I have, and I haven’t really seen any end to it. That might be a good thing. It just seems to be getting better. So I don’t see a need to worry about the end as much as how to make the best parts of what’s happening now last longer.

What kind of rooms are you working? Are you doing clubs for the most part?

I play festivals and basically any place that’ll have it, theaters and places like that. Any place that wants good music, I try to be there to supply.


Photo Credit: Janette Beckman

Basic Folk: Kathleen Parks of Twisted Pine

Hot off the heels of Twisted Pine’s latest release, Love Your Mind, Kathleen Parks is here to dig into her uncelebrated polka origins. Daughter of renowned trumpetist Eric Parks, the younger Parks grew up in New York’s Hudson Valley in a very creative family (her mother was also a dancer and the one who made Kathleen practice all the time). She started young on the violin and was surrounded by her dad’s polka music, as he was a member of Jimmy Sturr & His Orchestra, which my dad (also a polka-head) calls “the top polka band revered by all polka bands.” Parks even sat in with the band as a teen, when she would occasionally fill in for their violinist. She fully embraced her strong Irish roots not only in music, but also dance, which she calls her second love. After accepting a full scholarship to Berklee College of Music in Boston, she started meeting and jamming with bluegrass musicians in the area, especially at the Cantab Lounge, famous for its weekly bluegrass night. This is where her new band Twisted Pine scored a residency and started building a following.

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On the group’s new record, Kathleen is the de facto lead singer, which she’s just fine with. She also explains the band in one phrase: “Let’s see what happens.” That philosophy is definitely present on the new record, which is filled with wild vocal performances and sees the band operating at its highest level.

In our Basic Folk conversation, we explore the mental health themes highlighted in “Funky People,” a song about how difficult it can be to take care of yourself on the road and the relief you find in people you meet. Plus, we cover “After Midnight (Nothing Good Happens)” and finally find out what time one should go to bed at a bluegrass festival. It’s always earlier than you think.


Photo Credit: Jo Chattman