You Gotta Hear This: Vickie Vaughn, Theo Lawrence, and More

Every Friday, BGS shines a light on some of our favorite new tracks in bluegrass, folk, Americana and beyond. Then we ask the artist about the inspiration behind the music and pass their wise words along to you.

This week, we bring a new video from bluegrass group Ashleigh Graham & Appalachian Highway, who bring their song “Pinewood Prison” to life inside Brushy Mountain State Penitentiary in East Tennessee. Meanwhile, Los Angeles musician Paula Fong puts her own spin on “Turn, Turn, Turn” with a feature from Sean Watkins, while Alex Miller & Carson Peters offer a satisfying rendition of the Delmore Brothers classic, “Hillbilly Boogie.” In addition, Lost Dog Street Band frontman Benjamin Tod digs into the bluegrass canon with Larry Sparks’ “Natural Thing to Do” and Vickie Vaughn tips her hat to John Hartford on “Paducah.”

Nashville fans of Alison Krauss & Union Station will have a lot to look forward to as Theo Lawrence opens the ensemble’s shows at the Ryman Auditorium later this month. Get a taste of his style with “Today Is a Good Day,” which he wrote with Opry legend Bill Anderson. Finally, don’t miss Texas musician Red Shahan’s first-person reflections in “14 Miles From Home” or folk poet Amy Speace’s thoughtful original, “Days of Letting Go.”

We mean it when we say, You Gotta Hear This!

Ashleigh Graham & Appalachian Highway, “Pinewood Prison”

Artist: Ashleigh Graham & Appalachian Highway
Hometown: King, North Carolina
Song: “Pinewood Prison”
Label: Pinecastle Records

In Their Words: “‘Pinewood Prison’ grabbed me from the very first listen because it isn’t just a song—it’s a story that unfolds in your mind like a movie. When we decided to take that story to the screen, we knew we wanted to create something that felt bigger than a traditional music video, and filming inside the walls of Brushy Mountain State Penitentiary gave us an atmosphere we never could have manufactured.

“There were moments during filming when the place became so quiet and intense that you almost forgot there were cameras rolling. You could feel the history around you, and that brought an emotion and authenticity to the performances that I think people are going to see immediately. We wanted the video to be cinematic, but most importantly, we wanted viewers to become completely invested in the story. This was one of the most unique creative experiences I’ve ever been part of, and I’m incredibly proud of what we captured. Turn the lights down, turn the volume up, and watch all the way through!” — Ashleigh Graham


Paula Fong, “Turn, Turn, Turn” (Ft. Sean Watkins)

Artist: Paula Fong
Hometown: Los Angeles, California
Song: “Turn, Turn, Turn” (ft. Sean Watkins)
Album: A Bird on the Wing
Album Release Date: October 2, 2026
Label: Head Bitch Music

In Their Words: “With 10 songs already tracked, the album felt nearly finished but still needed something to round it out. We went through countless ideas before my manager Steve finally suggested a cover of ‘Turn, Turn, Turn’ – that timeless scripture-turned-song I’d grown up hearing from the Byrds. It was my producer Justin Sinclair who introduced me to Pete Seeger’s original, which I’d never heard before, and something about it felt magical enough to chase. It’s one thing to play a cover live, but my co-producer Phil Glenn felt strongly that a studio cover needed a real reason to exist. So we pulled ideas from several different versions of the song and shaped them into an arrangement of our own.

“As we talked through what that arrangement could be, the idea emerged to build it around artists who’ve influenced my music along the way. Abby Posner was an easy first call, I knew I wanted Justin’s voice on it, and Phil’s playing was clearly already woven throughout the entire track. In what seemed like an amazing moment of serendipity, Justin’s growing connections in Bell Choir Studios led to Sean Watkins agreeing to come play guitar on the track as well. On recording day, Sean laid down a series of gorgeous solo takes, and then even hopped up to the mic to sing on it as a featured artist. All in all, it felt like the stars aligned in a way that I couldn’t have imagined to bring this track into being and I’m incredibly excited to get it out into the world.” — Paula Fong


Theo Lawrence, “Today Is a Good Day”

Artist: Theo Lawrence
Hometown: Paris, France
Song: “Today Is a Good Day”
Release Date: September 4, 2026
Label: Warner Records

In Their Words: “When I heard I was going to be on the Opry, it felt like a good time to release a country song I’d been playing on tour with Alison Krauss called ‘Today Is a Good Day.’ It had been getting a warm response every night, so I called my friend Chris Scruggs and a few days later we recorded it together, leaning into that early ’60s Nashville sound. I wrote the song in Nashville with Bill Anderson, who knows a thing or two about country songs. His first big hit as a writer was ‘City Lights’ for Ray Price back in 1958. The song is about that moment when doing something sad feels like the right thing to do. Packing up and leaving before your heart gets broken beyond repair.” — Theo Lawrence


Alex Miller & Carson Peters, “Hillbilly Boogie”

Artists: Alex Miller & Carson Peters
Song: “Hillbilly Boogie”
Album: A Century of Strings, Stories & Songs: A Tribute to The Delmore Brothers
Album Release Date: October 1, 2026
Label: Billy Blue Records

In Their Words: “‘Hillbilly Boogie’ is a song that my grandad introduced me to, and it has remained a very special song to me! He had the 78 of The Delmore Brothers singing this song and I vividly remember cranking up his old Victrola and learning to sing it. Recording this song was one of the best days I’ve ever had in the studio, and I hope it shows when you put your ears on it. I was honored not only to be on this project and work with my producer, Jerry Salley, but also to pick with my good friend, Carson Peters. Carson’s musicianship is unmatched, and he’s one of the best songwriters and singers in Nashville. Hopefully this is the first of many collaborations to come.” – Alex Miller

“I am so happy to be a part of this project, and to be on one of my favorite Delmore Brothers songs with one of my favorite people in town, and produced by another one of my favorite people in town, makes it even better! Alex is part of the refreshing, authentic kind of talent that the current country music community is embracing nowadays, and I’m honored to be on this track with him. I can’t wait for the people to hear it!” – Carson Peters


Red Shanan, “14 Miles From Home”

Artist: Red Shahan
Hometown: Bluff Dale, Texas
Song: “14 Miles From Home”
Album: Hard Land
Release Date: August 6, 2026
Label: Make Wake Records

In Their Words: “I’ve had it in my head that I would never record this song for almost 20 years but maybe I’m getting soft, or maybe my wife and friends finally talked me into it. Regardless, getting to cut this one with Josh Serrato whom in a previous band we had played this one night after night made it worth it alone.” — Red Shahan


Amy Speace, “Days of Letting Go”

Artist: Amy Speace
Hometown: Nashville, Tennessee
Song: “Days of Letting Go”
New Release: The Cardinals (a collection of poems)

In Their Words: “I went to graduate school in Louisville, Kentucky, and somewhere on 65 North there was a large black billboard with white writing that said, ‘Opium Kills. Jesus Saves.’ I was working on a series of ‘persona poems’ – poems where the narrator isn’t me, is a character, a specific voice – and I imagined it as a male narrator driving back home after the funeral of his father. Of course, my own father had died in late 2019 and that was also a subject I was writing about in my work at the time. I wrote the poem with the repeating refrain – clearly in song form – but wanted to keep it a poem, until one of my mentors asked me why it wasn’t a song. I sang the whole thing to my friend Vance Gilbert and he said, ‘You know what would be cool? If you spoke the verse lyrics.’ And I told him it was originally a poem and he laughed.” — Amy Speace


Benjamin Tod, “Natural Thing to Do”

Artist: Benjamin Tod
Hometown: Sumner County, Tennessee
Song: “Natural Thing To Do”
Album: Country Is Dead
Release Date: September 4, 2026
Label: Thirty Tigers

In Their Words: “This has become a bluegrass standard in many circles now and I became obsessed with it after hearing it at a honky-tonk in Nashville at some point. Something about the brokenhearted longing and relentless loyalty harkens to something I can relate with personally. It is a natural thing to love someone enough to intentionally ignore trifling behavior. I believe this song sits well in a country western format and I love singing this one in the shower.” — Benjamin Tod


Vickie Vaughn, “Paducah”

Artist: Vickie Vaughn
Hometown: Nashville, Tennessee
Song: “Paducah”
Label: Mountain Home Music Company

In Their Words: “The first time I heard John Hartford’s ‘Paducah’ was when a friend performed it about twenty years ago on Murray State University’s campus. I thought it was so dang cool and humorous that I asked him about it immediately after he played it. Since then, I’ve been dying to put my own spin on it. Paducah is and will always be the most creative city I’ve known. I was lucky to grow up in the river bottoms on a farm in Symsonia, Kentucky, 20 minutes away from town. Paducah is full of hard-working, wildly creative people who let their hearts lead them in their artistic endeavors. It’s rich with the most talented, down-to-earth people you’ll meet. It’s easy to see how Hartford loved it so.” — Vickie Vaughn


Photo Credits: Laura Schneider (Vickie Vaughn), Jo Anna Edmison (Theo Lawrence)

Artist of the Month: Dailey & Vincent

Since they were boys, Jamie Dailey and Darrin Vincent have been surrounded by music. As a child, Dailey sang with his father, who was in a gospel group. Vincent performed at a young age with his family’s bluegrass gospel band, the Sally Mountain Show (which included his older sister, Rhonda Vincent). In 1990, he joined the John Hartford Band and then, in 1996, the multi-instrumentalist and singer signed up with Ricky Skaggs & Kentucky Thunder for nearly a decade. In 1999, Dailey started his successful nine-year run in the esteemed bluegrass group Doyle Lawson & Quicksilver as a tenor and baritone vocalist, and played acoustic bass before moving into rhythm guitar.

Dailey & Vincent met at the IBMA’s annual business conference and festival in 2001 and became quick friends. One day, after having breakfast at a Cracker Barrel Old Country Store, they went to Dailey’s car to listen to a tape of a song he had written. When they sang along to it, the two realized that their voices blended together in an uncanny way. It took several years for them to leave their respective groups and officially become a duo.

Along the way, they contributed the track “Beautiful Star of Bethlehem” to a Christmas compilation and that tune hit No. 1 on the Prime Cuts of Bluegrass charts. Dailey & Vincent then scored a deal with Rounder Records based on a demo they submitted. Since 2007, they have released 11 albums (including A Beautiful Life, released in June), won multiple SPBGMA and IBMA awards, and received several GRAMMY nominations. They also host a TV series, and have attracted a devoted following for their mix of traditional and contemporary musical styles that draws upon bluegrass, country, and gospel.

From September 17 to 19, the two are again hosting their annual Dailey & Vincent Music Fest. Held in Hiawassee, Georgia, up in the Blue Ridge Mountains, the festival’s lineup this year includes friends and family like Ricky Skaggs, Rhonda Vincent, and Doyle Lawson & Quicksilver, as well as Lonesome River Band, Seldom Scene, Gene Watson, and Wyatt Ellis – with Dailey & Vincent performing different sets each day.

To celebrate A Beautiful Life, we’ve named Dailey & Vincent our BGS Artist of the Month in August. Enjoy our exclusive AOTM interview with the duo below and don’t miss our Essential Dailey & Vincent Playlist, too. Plus, keep an eye on our website and social media for even more D&V content all month long.

When you all were creating your new album, A Beautiful Life, did you go in with an intention to make a certain type of album? Because your records frequently have had some type of theme or concept – like your prior release, 2022’s Let’s Sing Some Country.

Jamie Dailey: For me, it was not a themed record at all. I think Darrin and I both feel the same way. We just wanted the best songs that we could get our hands on to record. By being with Morris Higham [Management] and our manager Robert Filhart having the tie-in to the publishing companies to help us with songs, that gave us a whole new breath of life to be able to get a hold of some really great songs. And so that’s kind of how we were looking at it. We were not thinking about a theme at all.

Darrin Vincent: We’re able to create the bluegrass and the country music feel on the same record. But it’s mostly acoustically based. One of the coolest things about those elements was our management saying, “Go out and create the best songs and the best record you guys can. Don’t worry about [the album being] branded at anything or themed at anything. Just go make yourself a record.” And that’s kind of our mindset, and what we did with that encouragement.

How did you find these songs come together?

JD: Our manager, Rob Filhart … took us to Music Row and set us in publishing offices with speakers on both sides of our heads and a person across from us. They would play song after song after song, and you would listen to one and you’d be like, “No, that’s not it.” They’d play another one. “No, that’s not it.” And then a song came on and it was, “Wake up in the morning to a big orange sun/ Calling in sick, gonna have a little fun…” I thought, “Wait, wait, wait, what is that?” I want to keep listening. And it was “A Beautiful Life.”

One of the reasons that we love the song is that both of us have lived that lyric. Growing up, we have lived that lyric and still live a lot of it today. So that song touched our hearts and touched who we are as human beings. And we thought, “Man, we’ve got to record that song.”

We kept listening to more and more songs. Then they played us the song that was written by Don Schlitz and Josh Kear called “I Grew Up in Heaven.” Once again, we’re sitting there and I’m like, “I grew up in a beautiful rural area with the hills and the mountains and lakes and the rivers and bluffs and wildlife.” And I’m like, “Oh my goodness, I’ve lived this lyric” – and so has Darrin, you know? We fell in love with that. So, we thought, “Well, that’s going to be a good song.”

DV: We actually recorded 16 of the songs and those 12 [on the album] seemed to fit together the best. We got four other songs we haven’t even finished yet, but they’re great songs as well. We need to probably look at those at some point, but these really fit together well. I’m so thankful for them.

“Ruby” makes for a tremendous lead-off track. How did that get in the album?

JD: We got a call from the Grand Ole Opry, and they were going to recreate a show from 1974. They said, “We want you guys to come in and sing an Osborne Brothers song and a Jim & Jesse song and recreate a night that they were on this stage. You have to say what they said that night and you have to sing one of their songs.” They gave us choices. Darrin picked the song “Paradise” from Jim & Jesse. And I picked the song “Ruby.” I didn’t really want to sing “Ruby,” because it’s really high. It’s really fast and it’s really hard. I’m going to be honest, I was extremely intimidated by the song.

We sang the song on the stage of the Ryman Auditorium during the Grand Ole Opry. And the crowd went bonkers. I mean, bonkers from the front to the middle of the back! We thought, “What is going on?” And I simply think it was because they enjoyed watching me trying to kill myself singing. But when we came off stage we said, “Man, what a reaction! You know, it really doesn’t lend itself to the record, but people loved it so much. It might be a great opener to the record – loose and fast and high and all the things.” So, we decided to do it and lo and behold, it went No. 1 [for multiple weeks on the Bluegrass Today charts].

DV: My favorite thing is to watch Jamie kick off “Ruby” and see the people’s reaction to that. They’re just absolutely floored and that the reaction is so cool. I don’t think they’ve ever seen anything like it. It’s awesome.

The album has a good number of songs, like “A Beautiful Life,” that have a soulful, soul-feeding quality. Not just in a religious way, necessarily. Like “God’s Country,” you might think it is a religious song but it’s just about praising – praising where you come from.

JD: Yeah, and the place that I come from, everybody has different beliefs here. They have different political backgrounds. The song is for everybody. It’s not just for one set group of people. It’s for everybody because I love everybody. I mean, if you’re a nice person and try hard and treat people right, then I love you. I don’t have an issue with anybody.

When you started off as a duo, your first show was the Grand Ole Opry, right?

JD: We’ve played the Opry a lot. Darrin had played it longer than I had. But we both played the Opry a lot in other bands we’d been in. And then as Dailey & Vincent, we started our career off there. Darrin can tell you about us turning down dates just so we could play something like the Opry.

DV: Yeah, we had a manager by the name of Don Light who really, really put us under his wing and really gave us great advice. Advice we’re still using today after all these years. After we quit [working with] Ricky and Doyle, or we turned in our notice … we were getting all these offers of really good money to go out and play. Don Light said, “Boys, there’s only one first. I really believe your first [performance] needs to be at the Grand Ole Opry.” He said, “I know you all could use the money and it’s nice to have money,” but he said, “It’s more important for the longevity of you guys to make that Grand Ole Opry your first performance.”

Jamie and I agreed to it, we said no to everybody, and just kind of hung on to that. The thing of it is we weren’t promised [the Opry gig]. Pete Fisher [Opry VP/GM at the time] did not promise, “Yes, you guys can make your debut at the Grand Ole Opry.”

JD: It was a gamble.

DV: He and I took a gamble. We said no to everybody and, man, are we ever glad we did! ‘Cause we can honestly say our very first paid performances were the Grand Ole Opry. The Ryman, no less, of all stages. The birth of bluegrass music [was there], started with Bill Monroe. Isn’t that something? That’s really something!

JD: And we had to eat beanie weenies for about four months, but, you know, we’re alive now. We made it.

You both have been performing music since you were children, and been professionals for a long time. Besides having a lifelong love of music, it seems like you have a respect for the profession of being a musician.

DV: We’ve been recording records for a long time and have been on wonderful projects. Jamie grew up with his dad playing music and I did the same thing with my mom and dad. I think that my very first recording was at age five. So, we’ve been doing this a long time. I tell people this is not a hobby. It’s our job and our life and our livelihood, and man, it’s our DNA. It’s the way we grew up, and being members of the Grand Ole Opry and just being able to carry on that legacy of our family tree is really, really important. … It’s what we’ve done all of our lives. My wife, as a child, wanted to be a teacher and be in education. For us, this is our job, yes – but it’s more than that. It’s our life. I mean, this music, this record, is our life.

I think there’s some people that do it for a hobby, and that’s wonderful. But for us, our job is to get music, songs that will help people. I mean, we’re basically therapists as well. I can’t tell you the number of people that come through our line that are going through chemotherapy or some kind of issue in their life. This music is therapeutic – especially “A Beautiful Life.” I’ve had so many people come up to me and say, “That just makes me happy listening to those lyrics.” I feel like we’re sometimes musical doctors as well.

Harmony singing has always been important to you, and to the history of bluegrass. Jamie, I know the Statler Brothers were a huge influence on you. How do you see the state of harmony vocals in bluegrass music today? Is there a resurgence or are you just like holding the torch?

JD: Okay, we may have two different answers… How I’m going to answer this, I want everyone to know, I don’t mean this negative at all. This is just something that I’m seeing – and I could be wrong, okay? I’ll be the first to admit it. I am seeing more great pickers and a lot of picking now than I am, per se, a lot of great, top-notch vocal art. Now, yes, there are lots of people out there doing it, but it used to be that I saw more of that than I did a lot of the hot picking. It seems to me that’s what I’m seeing now. Folks, I could be wrong. Okay? If I am, please point me in direction so I can learn. But that’s what I’m seeing and what I’m hearing. So I found that to be interesting. Darrin, how do you feel?

DV: Yeah, you know, [Jamie] and I are always going to do four-part harmony, if possible. I never ever did four-part harmony with my family group all those years. With Ricky [Skaggs], we would have “Remember the Cross,” the Bill Monroe song, with the bassist in Ricky’s band doing the Bill Monroe quartet kind of thing. Of course, now Jamie, being with Doyle in those nine years, that was absolutely Doyle Lawson’s sound, the four-part harmony gospel. We have since moved back to three-part harmony, and we’ve been having Kyle [Ramey], our banjo player, do the bass part. I think Jamie and I will always do duets, trios, all the different types of songs, because that’s our DNA, that’s part of bluegrass’s DNA as well, all the way back to Flatt & Scruggs and Bill Monroe. It’s just something that’s part of bluegrass. I think that people need to hear that and we certainly feature that on our TV show. It’s very important and it’s just a cool thing to hear.

It also feels like you two are at an interesting traditionalist/non-traditionalist intersection, where you respect and follow some traditional leads, but also listen to your own inner voices of what you want to sound like.

JD: That has been a craw with some people on the traditional side. You know, “What are you guys? You used to be bluegrass, but we can’t really call you bluegrass. But you’re not really country, so we can’t call you that. What are you?” And all we know to tell them is: Dailey & Vincent! We sing and play the songs that we like and love. We play and sing the styles that we like and love. And we play and sing the way that we play and sing. We don’t know what that is, other than it’s just us. It’s how we think. How we breathe. It’s just who we are. And that’s not a good answer for a lot of people. They don’t like that answer, but honestly, we really don’t know how else to answer it.

You’ve finished your tenth season of your TV show. How has the TV show fit in with or affected your overall music career? Like, has it improved your live show?

JD: One of the things that I am so thankful for about the television show is, of course, we get to sing our bluegrass songs, whether they’re covers or originals that we’ve written. We get to sing a lot of the country songs that we like – original or covers. But something I have loved, it has given me the ability to sing songs like Bryan Adams’ “Heaven.” I’ve been able to sing Christopher Cross’s “Sailing.” I’ve been able to sing Sting’s “Fields of Gold.” All these old pop songs.

It’s given me an avenue to get that side of my fanboy out on all these pop songs and get to sing them and put them out. It’s interesting. When we have put them on social media, I have been very clear in my wording of, “Hey, one of the reasons we love to get to do our television show is we get to sing songs we’ve always wanted to sing, but that we never really could put on a record or necessarily really sing on a stage somewhere.” So, that has been one of the most fun parts for me. Darrin, how about you?

DV: I’ve loved being able to sing different songs and create different musical settings for different songs. Even songs that we did bluegrass, we go back into country now and just flip it around. It’s just wonderful being on the creating side of the musical side of that with these songs.

For me personally, I love all that and creating, but I’ve always been behind the vocalists in my group. It was my dad and my sister Rhonda. When I went with John Hartford, it was John. He was the frontman. He was the voice. Ricky, he was the voice. Jamie’s a great MC and a great frontman. But in our group now, I have to walk out and do more lead vocals and do more talking. And being a part of the Grand Ole Opry and this TV show has really set me to be out front, to be more of a talker. I’m more of a thinker on that side of it. Jamie is great off the cuff. I have to think about what I say and then I have to try to make it feel correct. I struggle with that.

JD: [Laughing] I probably should think about what I said!

DV: I’m not ashamed of this. I spent my whole entire life in special ed. Education was very hard for me. Being in the background is more where I like to be. I love being on the backside of things and I don’t need the spotlight. But since it’s Dailey & Vincent, Jamie and I both go out there, but those [TV show] settings have helped me to try to be more outgoing. I love that Jamie’s very outgoing. He’s such a great speaker and it has really encouraged me to try to do better at that. He’s absolutely the best, but I feel like I have grown because of those platforms to be able to speak better. My thought process goes a little quicker now and I feel more comfortable with it, and I’m sure grateful for that.


Photo Credit: Gregg Roth

Do You Know the Story of Betty Harford?

Over the past year, I have been surprised and delighted to find myself working closely with the Hartford family to continue the legacy of one of my favorite musicians, John Hartford. John is famous for his songwriting, but he also loved the fiddle and was a true scholar of the instrument. After his death, thousands of previously unheard and unrecorded fiddle tunes were discovered, written out in his personal notebooks. John’s daughter, Katie Hogue, has spearheaded the effort to get these tunes recorded.

With the album Julia Belle, she brought together an all-women cast of musicians, engineers, and producers to record a second volume of his original tunes. (The first was released in 2020 as The John Hartford Fiddle Tune Project and was nominated for a GRAMMY.) I was honored to be included, and impressed that Katie had decided to frame the second volume of John’s fiddle tunes around women. But this focus on women musicians also got me wondering about the women in John’s life. As a woman honoring the work of a very successful male artist, I had to wonder, “Who were the women who made all of this creative time possible for John?”

I had briefly met John’s first wife, Betty Harford-Gilbert, at a dinner party. (John later added the “t” to “Hartford” as an artist name.) We got to talking about the past and her experiences meeting and marrying John, as well as raising their two children, Jamie and Katie. I was relieved to find that Betty wasn’t especially bitter towards John. In fact, she had a lot of nice things to say about him. But I wanted to know more about her role behind the scenes, and I asked if she would be up for doing an interview with me. As so often happens in these situations, I had an idea of the story I wanted to tell: Two musicians meet and fall in love. Both want to pursue a professional music career, but as soon as they have children, the woman is relegated to motherhood and steps out of the spotlight to support her husband’s stardom.

However, when I started talking to Betty, it became clear how much I was projecting my own insecurities and generational desires onto the situation. Betty is an extraordinary woman who seems to have lived a million different lives. The story she told me was much more interesting than the one I had made up in my head. In fact, I feel confident that this article is just the beginning of a much bigger project surrounding Betty, her music, and her life.

Betty Beck was born in a small town in southeast Missouri in 1939. Her parents separated when she was three and she was raised by her mother and her grandparents, along with her mother’s siblings, on a cotton farm. As a child, Betty began playing music with her uncle, Jimmy Payne. Jimmy was her mother’s baby brother and he was only 4 years older than Betty, so they grew up like siblings.

“We both hated being in the cotton fields,” Betty explains. “All my life I was working in the cotton fields. We would chop cotton. We would pick cotton. I couldn’t remember a time when I wasn’t doing that. But Jimmy and I were dreamers. I was always looking up at the clouds, saying, ‘I wonder what’s out there? There’s something beyond this cotton patch.’”

The family had a radio at home and they would listen to the Grand Ole Opry on Friday nights. Betty remembers writing down the lyrics to songs in her little black book as she heard them. She and her Uncle Jimmy began learning to sing songs from the broadcast and trying to harmonize like their idols, the Louvin Brothers. Eventually, Jimmy managed to save up enough cotton money to order a $25 guitar from an Aldens catalog. Once a week, he went into town to learn guitar chords from the local church musician.

James and Betty, as they were known in the region, began playing together regularly. When Betty was 14, the pair began hosting a radio show at KTCB in Malden, Missouri, and their duet became officially known as the Allstar Gospel Singers. (When I texted her to ask about this detail, Betty sent me an eyeroll emoji and said, “Hey, I was 14!”) The duo went live every Saturday and sang requests on the spot.

Betty Harford pictured with John Hartford circa 1963.

After graduating from high school, Betty packed her bags and took the bus to St. Louis looking for work. She had been working part-time as a secretary during high school and had become an expert typist. She soon landed herself a job and apartment. Her mother showed up with her younger brother three weeks later, placing the responsibility of breadwinning squarely on Betty’s shoulders. Betty describes those three weeks before her mother arrived as some of the happiest of her life: “I was free!”

Her uncle Jimmy Payne arrived in St. Louis not long after and the two continued playing music together occasionally, although she felt that he was more interested in pursuing a solo career at that point. It was through Jimmy that Betty met John, when the two of them went to perform at a radio station for which John was DJing. Notably, in my research about John’s early life as well as Jimmy’s, nobody mentions playing or writing music with Betty, even though she is the common denominator between these two hit songwriters.

Betty and John hit it off immediately, although Betty says she was “not impressed” with John.

“He was a good musician,” she explains, “but there were a lot of musicians better than him… and he dressed terribly. He had holes in his sleeves and wore ridiculous hats. I was sometimes embarrassed to be seen in the diner with him.”

Despite all of this, she fell for him, and the two began dating, eventually marrying in secret to avoid grief from Betty’s loving but controlling mother.

This is where our conversation started to surprise me. Betty told me about the two of them singing together, the music they would listen to and learn, and the hymns and country songs that she taught John, but she also mentioned going along to his band practices with Don Brown and Norman Ford, falling asleep on the couch as they played late into the night, then having to get up early for work the next day.

“You went to his rehearsals?” I asked.

“Well, yes,” she explained, “that was the way to be with him.”

Later, John told her that he was “testing her” to see if she could handle the musician lifestyle. It occurred to me at this point in our conversation that Betty wasn’t thinking about her career versus John’s career, it was just their lives together and a life around music that they both loved. They listened to records together, they wrote songs together, they sang together, and they went to rehearsals and gigs together. Betty played me an old recording that she and John had made of three songs; two they had written together and one she had written. Their voices in harmony over solo banjo gave me chills.

“How has nobody heard these?” I asked. She just shrugged.

It was on the drive home from one of John’s gigs (John was playing in the Ozark Mountain Trio) that Betty first suggested to John that he could consider playing his own songs rather than being a sideman for a band he was bankrolling. He soon began gigging solo and gaining a following. Betty was also the first to hear “Gentle on My Mind,” the song that launched John’s career into Hollywood via Glen Campbell. They had just been to see the movie Doctor Zhivago and Betty put Jamie to bed while John wrote.

“He came downstairs and said, ‘Honey what do you think about this?’ He was so proud of it. And I said, ‘Yes, I really do like it, but what about these two women you’re talking about? Which one am I?’” she laughs.

Some of our conversation revealed disappointing, though typical, attitudes of the time. Although John wanted children, when Jamie and Katie came along, he didn’t cope well with factoring them into his bigger picture. “John wasn’t a hands-on dad, never was,” Betty explained. By this time, Betty and John were both working musicians living in Nashville. They decided that John would pursue his music and Betty would focus on the kids.

When I asked Betty if this bothered her she said, “I agreed to it. I could just feel that he had a real fire to make it happen, more than I did.”

But it wasn’t that John wanted Betty to stay home while he went off on tour. He wanted her right by his side. “He called me one day so excited. We had always talked about going to Europe and he said, ‘Betty, we’re going on tour, 21 days in Europe.’ Well, Katie was six months old at that time and when he called I was holding the phone with one hand and trying to feed her with the other. I said, ‘Okay, well…’ and he said, ‘I thought you’d be more excited!’”

After some argument – John thought they could leave the kids with a babysitter and Betty was not in agreement – they decided that the kids would stay with John’s parents back in St. Louis. But the tour was the beginning of the end of the marriage.

More troubling than John’s absence as a father was the environment of Los Angeles stardom. John had found a new social scene, with actors, groupies, and plenty of weed. It was the early ’70s and John was on TV.

Betty told me about a performance John did at the Playboy Club, after which the two of them got into an elevator only to be squeezed in by several well-endowed “bunnies.” “He came home one day with Carl Gottlieb, a writer for The Smothers Brothers Show, and the two of them were just so happy. Later, he said, ‘Betty, we should smoke some grass together’ and I said, ‘John, I don’t need that stuff.’”

Betty felt John was becoming something she didn’t recognize, something she didn’t want the kids around, and something that they hadn’t planned on for their life together. Betty stayed in Los Angeles for six months after she and John separated, but he hadn’t made much effort to be a part of the kids’ lives, so she took them back to Nashville, a place that she missed terribly.

Betty is religious and refused to stray from her principles for John’s sake, something she feels that John always respected her for. As the years went by, he made more effort to get to know his children, but they were largely raised by Betty. However, this was in no way the end of Betty’s story.

After her kids had grown up, she moved to Alaska where she “worked part time for Statewide Blasting … rigging explosives and blowing stuff up, and flew all over Alaska in a [Piper] Super Cub.” Betty met the true love of her life in Alaska, a man who she married just weeks before he died.

John returned to Nashville and, in some ways, returned to himself. He married Marie Fielder and they lived on the Cumberland River in Madison, Tennessee, until he passed away in 2001.

During the last weeks of his life, Katie and Betty went to visit John. He asked Betty to sing to him and she began singing the old gospel songs that they had learned together. After she went through all that she could remember, he motioned for her to come close to him. He could barely speak but whispered to her, “Life of a Flower.” And she sang to him:

As the life of a flow’r,
As a breath or a sigh,
So the years that we live
As a dream hasten by
True, today we are here
But tomorrow may see
Just a grave in the vale
And a mem’ry of me.

It occurs to me now that John Hartford’s legacy and catalog is in the hands of his daughter, Katie Hogue, who runs his estate. Katie has worked tirelessly to put out records and books of her dad’s fiddle music, partially with the intention of getting to know him posthumously, but also because she believes that his music is a gift to the world.

Though John was unable to factor his family into his creative success, or perhaps they were unwilling to follow that success on his terms, it is the women in his life who continue to support and uplift his career long after his death, just as they did while he was living.


Photos courtesy of Betty Harford-Gilbert via Rachel Baiman.

The Origins and Evolution of Jamgrass – And Where It Goes From Here

Whether it’s Bill Monroe, Sam Bush, Sister Sadie, or Billy Strings, bluegrass has always pushed boundaries. At the forefront of that movement sits jamgrass, which brings together a barrage of influences performed with grassy, stringed arrangements and an improvisational sensibility that makes each song and show feel like a living organism – and results in each performance having its own qualities and quirks.

However, despite many tying the origins of jamgrass to ’90s upstarts like Leftover Salmon and Yonder Mountain String Band, its roots actually go back at least a half-century – and in some cases to the very origins of bluegrass music itself.

“When Bill Monroe started the Blue Grass Boys and they came on the Grand Ole Opry with that band, they were so far removed and different from other string bands of that same era even though they had the same instrumentation,” says Bush. “They were light years ahead of all the rest of the music on the Grand Ole Opry in terms of progressiveness and innovation, so in his own way Bill Monroe was a rebel. The Opry audience was just astounded with the way they played, and then when Bill introduced a great fiddler like Chubby Wise and the banjo playing of Earl Scruggs, that’s what kicked what we call bluegrass into gear.”

That same trailblazing spirit of Monroe could also be found in Bush himself several decades later, with the formation of the Bluegrass Alliance and, shortly after, New Grass Revival. The latter went against the grain of traditional bluegrass in nearly every way imaginable, from covers of Jerry Lee Lewis, Bob Marley, and The Beatles to their long hair and the tie-dye they dressed themselves in. All more akin to Deadheads and the hippie movement than bluegrass at the time. Per Bush, the group was inspired by bands that had already deviated from the old-time ways of bluegrass like the Osborne Brothers, Jim & Jesse, the Country Gentlemen, the Dillards, the Greenbriar Boys, Area Code 615, and even John Hartford – who he’d later pay tribute to with his 2022 album Radio John.

That being said, New Grass Revival and the movement they helped spark also held the tradition of bluegrass in as high regard as anyone, even as the band pushed the music in a direction it had never been before. “We always said that if you want to play newgrass, you first have to know how to play bluegrass,” recalls Bush.

The band’s rise gave way to the progressive leaning newgrass movement that saw an influx of outside influences and experimentation flood into the music that Monroe and the Blue Grass Boys made famous, with one of the most notable being Leftover Salmon. Formed in 1989 – the same year New Grass Revival first broke up – in Boulder, Colorado, Salmon brought together acoustic and electric arrangements with percussion to create an offshoot of newgrass they coined “Cajun slamgrass.” The outfit’s hybrid sound was an instant hit, and by the early ’90s the band found itself on the H.O.R.D.E tour with rock and jam bands like Phish, Widespread Panic, Spin Doctors, and Blues Traveler. This further connected the worlds of bluegrass and jam, resulting in what many refer to as the official launch of the jamgrass movement later in the decade when Yonder Mountain String Band burst onto the scene.

In fact, Yonder’s bassist, Ben Kaufmann, recalls attending that H.O.R.D.E tour and credits it for sending him down the rabbit hole of bluegrass. But being from Boston and growing up a Deadhead, he knew that any music he’d go on to create would be radically different from what had come before it.

“We didn’t grow up in the rural South,” explains Kaufmann. “We were suburban kids, which was critical to whatever Yonder ended up achieving. If we weren’t, the band likely would’ve leaned much more traditional. We thought the music of Flatt & Scruggs, Bill Monroe, and the Stanley Brothers were the coolest things ever, even though it was born out of an environment that’s not ours.

“That, combined with the influences of our formative years, helped to mold our own little version of what a bluegrass band could be, even though not everyone thought it was the ‘right’ way to play it. For a while the bluegrass community didn’t want any part of us, which made me realize that if people weren’t going to invite us to their party that we’d create our own, which is exactly what we did.”

From there, Yonder integrated their high-strung and energetic live show even more than the jam band circuit, piecing together the foundations of what would soon become the jamgrass scene in the process. That momentum reached a fever pitch for the band in the late 2000s when the band was headlining bigger rooms than it ever had before and landing opening slots on arena tours with the Dave Matthews Band and Widespread Panic, similar to the gigs New Grass Revival had opening similar venues for Leon Russell in 1979.

Thinking back on that era of the band, Kaufmann says it made him understand the full potential of what jamgrass and bluegrass could achieve if given the opportunity, which he says is now being realized with artists like Billy Strings, Mountain Grass Unit, and others.

“Even in the late aughts when Yonder was at max room capacity and opening these arena shows, we wondered if bluegrass would ever work in rooms this big. And, to our amusement, it did – you just needed to fill the venue with the right people. We didn’t know if that would be us headlining those places one day, but playing those gigs showed us it was something that could happen.

“With that in mind, it’s no surprise to see a young gun like Billy Strings come along and set the world on fire. In the little amount of time we’ve spent together it was obvious that he is a special talent, so observing his rise and all he’s done for this kind of music has been mind-blowing.”

Yonder’s success lit a spark for the jamgrass movement that’s been burning ever since, with countless performers crediting the band for the influence they’ve bestowed upon them. One of those people is Kyle Tuttle, who grew up following the band around on tour in the early 2000s before eventually landing a spot playing in founding member Jeff Austin’s band after Austin departed Yonder in 2014.

“I was just starting to see real bluegrass and already loved the Grateful Dead, so when Yonder Mountain String Band came along and overlapped with those two worlds, it was like a dream come true,” Tuttle explains. “I’d been seeing all these suit-and-tie bands playing straight bluegrass and loved it, but at the same time I was also wondering where I fit into it. Then Yonder pops up and it feels like what I’d been waiting my whole life to discover.”

Tuttle played his first gig with the Jeff Austin Band in 2016 and remained in the group up until the singer’s untimely death in 2019. He went on to perform with the GRAMMY Award-winning Molly Tuttle & Golden Highway from 2021 to early 2025. Now he leads his own collective, the Kyle Tuttle Band, where he intertwines original compositions with traditional bluegrass covers and other off-the-wall influences as he puts his own spin on what jamgrass is.

“It’s a common perspective for people to not want you to mess with their bluegrass and tradition, whereas the jamgrass world tends to be more wide open,” admits Tuttle. “Fans nowadays are ready to hear whatever interesting mashup you create, which makes for a really nice union.”

With how wide open the jamgrass has become, even bands outside its periphery have found their way into the community from time to time. Take Fruition for example, a band that began busking on the streets of Portland over 15 years ago with a mix of string instruments and a poppy folk sound that sits on the far outer reaches of the jamgrass spectrum. Similar to how Yonder struggled to be embraced by the bluegrass community in its early days, Fruition’s Kellen Asebroek said it was the jamgrass community that first embraced and welcomed the band when nobody else would. “There’s no telling where we’d be if they hadn’t welcomed us into their family.”

“I was introduced to [jamgrass] in 2002 before I even knew what it was,” recollects Asebroek. “My uncle was a big Leftover Salmon fan and gave me an audience recording from the ’90s to listen to that left me in awe wondering what the hell it was they were doing. I grew up in more of a punk, reggae and classic rock world, so that was the first time I heard something remotely grassy. It wasn’t until we started Fruition and were busking on the street that people began referring to us as a jamgrass band. That being said, Fruition tends to be on the more structured side, so much so that I wouldn’t even call ourselves a jam band. We’ve always been in a unique place in that world in the sense that the jamgrass community is who took us in as babies and showed us around even though we were on the fringes of it.”

Also on the fringes of jamgrass is Daniel Donato, who began picking country and bluegrass tunes on Nashville’s Broadway strip as a teenager before launching his own project, Cosmic Country, in 2015 after seeing shapeshifting country singer Sturgill Simpson at the Ryman. The sound that grew out of that moment is equal parts Simpson and the Dead, but Donato says that bluegrass legends like Bill Monroe are also critical to what he creates as well, even though he utilizes mostly electric instrumentation.

“Jerry Garcia also had a really sophisticated understanding and appreciation for bluegrass music,” compares Donato. “The arrangements of the Dead were not succinctly bluegrass, but there was a ton of bluegrass influence that went into the way he played, especially with Old & In The Way and the Jerry Garcia Band. My goal has been to tap into a similar feeling, but with a slightly more prominent country twang.”

Someone else who’s spent plenty of time in the jamgrass scene despite not always producing music that would be categorized as such is Sierra Hull. The mandolin prodigy grew up on a heavy dose of traditional bluegrass in East Tennessee, with acts like Blue Highway, the Seldom Scene, and Lonesome River Band being the soundtrack of her youth. While she’s tended to lean more towards “chambergrass” and singer-songwriter styles in her adult life, she also takes plenty of time to let loose and jam, whether it’s stretching out her own material or joining artists like Cory Wong, the String Cheese Incident, Greensky Bluegrass, Béla Fleck, and Sam Bush on stage. The latter of whom she credits – along with luminaries like Peter Rowan and David Grisman – for planting the seeds that later grew to become jamgrass.

“For people like me, [Sam] was such a huge gateway to a lot of these other musicians who were really open-minded about what they played and who they collaborated with,” confides Hull. “Coming from a more traditional background, what I’ve enjoyed most about getting out to these bluegrass and jam festivals [is] mixing it up with folks. I’ve become a fan of jamgrass from seeing it all happen up close, rather than having grown up on albums – which I feel is the case for a lot of fans of jam music. The recorded music is still awesome, but the live shows are where the spirit and energy of jamgrass truly live.”

Hull continued, stressing how despite the current momentum behind jamgrass it’s still a very niche genre that nobody gets into expecting to become famous from it, which makes the heights Billy Strings and others are taking it to that much more mesmerizing.

“There’s something really cool about seeing folks who maybe don’t know who Bill Monroe or Doc Watson is, but they can go to a Billy show and immediately connect to the authenticity of what the music is,” exclaims Hull. “We live in a day and age where people are ripping on their pedals and doing more progressive stuff than they ever have before with string music, but at the same time most all of these bands have their moments where they throw that all away and just play a straight-up bluegrass tune. Seeing people resonate with that is central to what this music is and does.”

Another woman staking out a career in and around jamgrass is Lindsay Lou, who first discovered the subgenre witnessing the early days of Greensky Bluegrass performing in Michigan. Although she’d already been vaguely familiar with Yonder and Leftover Salmon, Lou credits Greensky’s sound and proximity to her as the driving factors for introducing her not just their music, but jamgrass as a whole.

“Greensky was my gateway to the jam world, because we were both part of the same scene,” says Lou. “I started hanging with them and soon found myself at festivals with other like-minded bands that sent me diving into the music of the Grateful Dead and others.”

One of those artists she wound up connecting with was a young Billy Strings, who she’d grow close with and later live across the street from in Nashville. The two would even go on to co-write a number of songs together including “Freedom” and “Nothing’s Working,” which both appeared on Strings’ albums Home and Renewal, as well as the latter appearing on Lou’s Queen Of Time. “It’s been really cool having written songs with Billy and hearing him perform them to arenas packed with 30,000 all singing along.”

“It’s no surprise to me that Billy has brought so many people to jam and bluegrass music in the same way that Yonder and Greensky did for so many before him, including Billy himself,” she stresses. “It’s been so much fun watching a young hippie kid like him take a traditional song to places you never thought it could go due to him embracing the musical conversation that jam music is centered around.”

Someone at the heart of the Billy Strings phenomenon is Jarrod Walker, who’s played mandolin in the Michigander’s band since 2018. Similar to Sam Bush, Walker believes the roots of jamgrass can be traced all the way back to Bill Monroe, due to how he took popular songs of the day and breathed new life into them with stringed arrangements – similar to how modern day jam bands pull from influences far and wide to create something entirely new. And although he credits Sam Bush as being a central figure for the movement, he also holds the Seldom Scene – who recorded an extended version of the Grateful Dead’s “I Know You Rider” (simply called “Rider”) on its 1973 album Act III – in a similarly high regard.

“There have been a smorgasbord of different influences in jamgrass from the very beginning with Irish and English music and gospel and blues – all of it was an integral part of what Bill Monroe originally did,” says Walker. “Then someone like Jerry Garcia comes along and follows Monroe like people would soon be following the Dead, which led to Old & In The Way, continuing the prophecy that’s still playing out to this day.”

But even as that prophecy continues to play out, Walker is amazed by where it’s taken not just the Billy Strings band, but string music as a whole. Having been accustomed to gigging at performance art centers and other smaller, seated venues for most of his pre-Billy picking days, he says that the experience of performing at rock clubs and now arenas with fans going crazy for bluegrass music has been mind-boggling and a phenomenon he’ll never stop being captivated by.

“[Playing arenas] is something none of us saw coming and is a combination of being at the right place at the right time and the contributions of everyone who came before us that paved this path for us to do it,” states Walker. “Billy is also a fantastic musician and student of bluegrass whose love for the music combined with his other influences is emblematic of the cohesion that is core to jamgrass and everything it stands for.”

Like all forms of music, jamgrass is a living, breathing organism that is constantly evolving and bringing new ideas and influences to the table. Whether it’s traditional and progressive bluegrass or rock, blues, punk, soul, country and everything in between, it all has a place in the jamgrass setting and is without a doubt the biggest driving factor of the genre’s success. It truly is a “rising tide lifts all boats” scenario that may have been a long time coming to arrive, but now that it’s here and thriving shows no signs of departing anytime soon.

“It took a long time for listening tastes to catch up with this kind of music and these instruments, but it’s no surprise to me that someone as talented as Billy is having the success he’s having,” declares Bush. “It’s only natural that the music is going to grow, and it’s in a really healthy place right now. But even with the rise of jamgrass you still have good ole Del McCoury leading the pack with his Bill Monroe style of bluegrass, and the same audience that loves jamgrass loves him too.”


Continue exploring our Jamgrass in July coverage here. This content brought to you in partnership with Preston Thompson Guitars.

Photo Credit: Sam Bush courtesy of Crossover Touring; Sierra Hull courtesy of the artist; Ben Kauffman courtesy of Crossover Touring.

John Reischman: Between the Salish Sea and Salt Spring

There are no U.S./Canada border wars when it comes to John Reischman. The revered mandolin master was born in Northern California but has lived in British Columbia since the early 1990s. His longtime band, the Jaybirds, are a quartet that includes two members who are also based in British Columbia (bassist/vocalist Trisha Gagnon and banjoist Nick Hornbuckle) and two who reside in America (fiddler Greg Spatz lives in Eastern Washington and guitarist/vocalist Patrick Sauber is from Southern California).

Their latest album, The Salish Sea, refers to the body of water between Vancouver Island and the British Columbia mainland. The record is their first since 2017’s On That Other Green Shore along with being the first to feature “new” guitarist Sauber on the entire album. The song “The Salish Sea” not only serves as the album’s title, but also is part of an original “Bluegrass Concerto” that Reischman was commissioned to create for FreshGrass in 2024. The honor is just one example in a long line of accolades for Reischman, who began his career in the Bay Area bluegrass/folk scene of the 1970s (including a stretch with the Tony Rice Unit) before moving to Canada, where he started the Jaybirds as well as performing solo and in other groupings.

In recent years, Reischman has seen his song “Salt Spring” become something of a modern bluegrass classic. He spoke with the BGS from his home in Vancouver about “Salt Spring” as well as The Salish Sea, his famous Lloyd Loar mandolin, and how he got into bluegrass music.

What was the process of putting the new album together?

John Reischman: There was one venue in Washington State where we had a residency. It was in the fall, in a beautiful spot. It was just ideal. So we took the extra day, worked up like six new tunes, and then started performing them right away. I guess this was October of ‘23.

And then you recorded the album in Vancouver?

In December of ‘23, I wanted the band to check out the studio here in Vancouver, where we ended up ultimately recording. I just want to make sure everybody was cool with it. I knew I liked it, because I had used it for my solo record, New Time & Old Acoustic. They all liked it. At the end of any tour we had that was close to Vancouver in 2024, I’d book a day or two in the studio, and we’d go record two or three or four songs. We were able to perform all this material mostly before we recorded it. … And it was great, because we’d be warmed up from the tour and we’d go in and track some tunes.

This album was the first in a while, and also the first that Patrick Sauber was fully on it.

Right, On That Other Green Shore came out in 2017. That was kind of the tail end of our time with [guitarist] Jim Nunally being a band member. He was exploring other things and decided he’d leave the band. We had a few more tracks to do… and we had some dates on the calendar.

I thought of Patrick immediately, because I’d known him for many years and I thought he’d be good. So he signed on for a tour and then another tour and it was just like, “This works great.” We asked him to join and he immediately said yes. He was a great fit.

How did the Jaybirds come together in the first place?

I didn’t really set out to have a band, except for the fact that I had a solo record called Up in the Woods. There was a local festival, so I put the band together to help promote the record. Seemed like a good idea. And I liked playing with all those people and it just continued on.

It’s called John Reischman and the Jaybirds, because I conceived of it. My name was probably the most well known at the time, but I wanted to be integrated into a bluegrass band. People present stuff, and I almost always accept it. Mostly it’s a pretty democratic presentation, I think. That’s what I like. It’s not Gladys Knight & the Pips.

Can you talk about the title track and how it’s also part of a larger project?

I had been asked to write what they call a “Bluegrass Concerto” by the East Coast festival FreshGrass, and I came up with these three tunes that work together. The first tune was the first movement, which ultimately was called “The Salish Sea.” I thought this will be my contribution to the new Jaybirds record, because they were involved with the performance of the Concerto.

We performed it [at FreshGrass in 2024] and I really liked the idea of having two mandolins and I’ve always loved two fiddles. I knew Darol Anger was going to there, so I asked him if he’d play twin fiddles on it. And then Sharon Gilchrist is a good friend and great mandolinist; we’ve played a lot together, and I asked her to play a mandolin on two of the three pieces.

I’ve got to acknowledge David Grisman, because the music is influenced by his “Dawg Music.” It’s also the sound that I initially heard on his first solo record, The David Grisman Rounder Record. He incorporated harmony mandolin on a lot of it.

It must have been very inspiring and gratifying to receive this commission.

You know, I’ve written a lot of tunes and a lot of folks have learned my tunes, which is really gratifying. But to have been commissioned to write this and have the confidence of this great festival and organization, yeah it was.

I had plenty of time to work on it and the time that it mostly came together was when I think my wife was visiting family. I had the house to myself. That first piece, in particular, really developed over a period of time. The second one [“The Family’s Farewell”], I came up with the A part pretty quickly and it took a while to get a bridge for it.

The third part [“The Little River Ramble”] was similar. … The thing about the concerto format is the third movement typically has an extended solo section and it’s often a bender where it’s just the featured soloist playing solo without any accompaniment. But I wasn’t really comfortable so much with that. I thought, I’ll just have it break down and I’ll solo all through there but have it build back up.

I’m really happy with the response it has gotten. Even playing it just as the five-piece band, I think the band sounds great on it. It’s only like icing on the cake when the twin fiddles and the twin mandolins are there.

And this spring, you’re going to record the entire concerto?

At the end of March, we’re going to be on tour on the East Coast and the FreshGrass Festival has a recording studio. They offered to make the studio available, so we’re going to record that just as we performed it, with Darol and Sharon joining in. That will be part of a solo record, even though I’m using those musicians. And I have other sessions planned. I’ve done one session that will add to the whole thing. Those three tunes of the concerto will just be one component of the new recording.

“Salt Spring,” one of your older songs, has become a highly popular instrumental now in the bluegrass world. How much of a pleasant surprise has that been?

It’s kind of remarkable to me that it’s as popular as it is. I mean, I’m not complaining. It’s great. … But it’s interesting how it’s just traveled all over and people think it’s just a traditional tune in some circles. They have no idea that it was composed by me. That’s cool, too.

The Jaybirds recorded it and it came out on a CD in 2001. We were at a music camp with some folks from Colorado and they learned it. I think that’s largely the beginning of it getting circulated among other people – where they took it back to Colorado. They’re the “patient zero,” I guess.

I know that a certain generation of Berklee students were playing it a lot, and maybe a bit later – maybe 10 years later. It’s pretty cool having people play your tune when you’re not there. That CD was never available digitally until recently, but we made a video of it around 2011… and that was the source, I think, for a lot of people learning it.

And then you recorded it again with Molly Tuttle, Alex Hargreaves, Max Schwartz, and Allison de Groot on your 2021 solo album New Time & Old Acoustic.

I didn’t have all the material when I started that whole project, but I knew I wanted to re-record “Salt Spring” with some of these younger musicians who had grown up playing it.

What do you remember about writing it? And why do you think so many musicians have gravitated to playing it?

I was on Salt Spring Island [in British Columbia] staying with some friends and they had a little old turn-of-the-century Martin small-body guitar. I was just playing the guitar and I was playing out of a D chord shape, and the A part of the tune just kind of took shape under my fingers. It was memorable enough that I don’t think I had to record it to remember it. The B part was just this little phrase I would play on the mandolin, just noodling around … so I just kind of stuck it on there and it worked pretty well.

I think the thing about the tune is the basic melody is very simple, but the way I played on the mandolin, the technique I use, is not quite cross-picking. But it falls into a right-hand pattern that sort of mimics the way the frailing banjo is played with that “bum-ditty, bum-ditty, down-down up, down-down up” pick stroke. So, these extra “down ups” are drone notes and that just kind of enhance the whole overall effect. Because of that, it lays out really nicely on the banjo. Then on the fiddle, you can add drones and add to it that way. And on the guitar also, you can fall into that kind of “bum-ditty” pattern as well.

I think you can learn the tune pretty easily. It’s not super challenging like some fiddle tunes where they’re very detailed in the melody. It’s pretty straight and so I think that’s partly why people gravitate towards it.

You grew up in Northern California. How did you get interested and involved in music, specifically bluegrass music?

Have you heard of a guitar player named Robben Ford? He grew up in the same town where I did in Northern California. He was in a high school band with my neighbors. I must have been 12 or 13. They were rehearsing on a patio and I went over to listen. I was interested in music and I heard them play the Freddie King tune “Hideaway,” which Eric Clapton recorded on the John Mayall & the Blues Breakers record. My brother Steve had that record. I recognized the tune and I thought, “What? This is impossible. This sounds as good as the record!”

From then on, I was just focused on trying to play the guitar. I had taken guitar lessons prior to that, but it didn’t really work. But there were guitars around the house. So that was the thing that really sparked my interest in learning to play. But I was open to all kinds of music. I’d have access to the PBS station KQED and they’d often air Pete Seeger’s Rainbow Quest, where he’d have different folk musicians, bluegrass musicians, old-time musicians. I thought, “Oh, this is cool!” And then the mainstream presentation of bluegrass with The Beverly Hillbillies, having Flatt & Scruggs on it, and the Dillards and the Country Boys playing on The Andy Griffith Show.

At some point, I had access to a mandolin, which I associated [with] bluegrass music, and taught myself to play it. I tuned it to an open chord for a long time, like a banjo, which was incorrect. And I didn’t use a pick. But eventually I got things squared away.

I discovered the John Hartford Aereo-Plain record. I saw them on TV as well. That was very inspiring. Then I discovered Norman Blake and Vassar Clements. I come to find out they had their own records. … That first Norman Blake record, I couldn’t believe it. I just flipped over that, and I thought, “This is so great!” And I’d heard Doc Watson at that point, so I just got really interested in it, and focused on that music, primarily.

So, was the Good Ol’ Persons your first significant band?

Yeah, it was the first real pro band I was ever in, and I was a fan of theirs before that. I [had] lived in San Francisco for a short while and saw their original lineup, which included all women. And it was exciting to get the opportunity to play with these folks. Because I was living near Eugene, Oregon, and I was just playing the mandolin all the time – a lot with my brother, Steve – but I wasn’t in a band, and I was working on a farm, just part-time. And a friend from the Oregon bluegrass scene had joined them and they needed a mandolin player. He said, “I know a guy.”

That placed me in the Bay Area, which was a great scene. There were lots of good bluegrass bands. And the Grisman Quintet was there. … But the thing that set Good Ol’ Persons apart was their original material, because Kathy [Kallick] is a fantastic songwriter. And Paul Shelasky, who was in the band, also wrote great songs. That opened the door for me to try and write tunes – because, “Oh, these guys write tunes. I’ll try it.” I wrote a few and people liked them. That just gave me encouragement to keep at it, which I have done.

So consequently, when Grisman and Tony Rice parted ways, Tony was aware of me. He’d heard me play at the local bar. He wanted to put a band together and needed a mandolin player. So, I went to the audition and he hired me.

You are well known for having an antique Gibson Lloyd Loar mandolin. What do you think makes those mandolins so special?

I guess that [mandolin] was kind of the ultimate expression of Gibson mandolins. But there’s plenty of new makers and a lot of them are using that basic design. So, aesthetically and as far as the craft of the instruments, some of these builders are way better than the Gibson mandolins were to look at, but the Gibsons have 100 years of aging and playing.

I think the playing of the instrument contributes hugely to its sound. Because, if there’s a Lloyd Loar that left the factory and went into someone’s closet and never came out for 50 years, I don’t think it’s going to sound like one like mine that has been played consistently over time.

I feel fortunate to be the caretaker for this great instrument. I think for most bluegrass musicians, it’s not only the music, but it’s the tools. These vintage instruments, like the Martins from the ‘30s and ‘40s, and Gibson mandolins from the ‘20s, and old banjos, it’s just a vibe that goes along with the music and aesthetic.


Photo courtesy of John Reischman.

BGS 5+5: Jesse Appelman

Artist: Jesse Appelman
Hometown: Oakland, California
Latest Album: Where We Go (released February 20, 2026)

If you had to write a mission statement for your career, what would it be?

For me, music is about community, connection, and collaborative creation.

It’s about the intimacy of singing harmony with someone, or finding musical ideas that only occur to me because of what someone else just played. I’m in awe of people like Keith Jarrett who can carry a full solo show, but my musical voice only feels complete in collaboration. I play best when I have things to respond to.

I leave most festivals with at least one new real friendship, forged through a shared language and the vulnerability of playing music together. There are not a lot of spaces where this can happen so easily, especially once you’re past your 20s, and they only exist because people keep showing up and participating.

I’m most interested in the music that results when musicians prioritize the collective sound while still bringing their full and unique personality to the table. When everyone listens and tries to make everyone else sound better rather than demonstrating their own ability. It’s easy to take for granted the ability to sit down with strangers and create music in real time but we are so lucky to get to do it.

Genre is dead (long live genre!), but how would you describe the genres and styles your music inhabits?

I don’t think anyone involved in this record ever discussed what genre of music we were making. Not John Mailander, who produced the album, and not the band (Eli West, Sami Braman, and Emily Mann). We talked a lot about the how and the why. We talked about density and space, groove, melody, interaction, texture, and flow. Nobody asked if they should be playing these tunes like bluegrass, old-time, Americana, or anything else.

So what kind of music is it? It’s the sound of these particular musicians playing these tunes, trusting their ears and instincts, and adding their unique personalities to the stew. Bluegrass is certainly in there, and old-time, and probably some jazz and classical, but it’s not a conscious “little bit of this and little bit of that,” it’s just what comes out when we play without thinking too hard.

I remember listening back to the tunes at the end of the first day in the studio and John said something like, “Isn’t it cool how you can do all this planning and arranging and preparing, but you have no idea what the album will sound like until you start making it?”

Some musicians immerse themselves in a single tradition or lineage and spend a lifetime going deep inside it. I listen to a lot of stuff like that, and it’s some of my most beloved music, but when I play I’m most interested in what happens when you agree on priorities and principles, and let musical identity emerge. My priorities come from lessons learned from musicians in my West Coast string band community. Some get called innovators, some traditionalists, but all share a commitment to deeply-felt, collaborative, and highly personal music-making.

Music is an activity and genre is a labeling system; the best I can do is focus on the activity and get the right people together and trust that the result will sound like us.

If it needs a label, maybe string band music that breathes?

What rituals do you have, either in the studio or before a show?

I have a loose mental checklist that I try to review before I go on stage or into the studio or even to a jam. I don’t succeed at all of them all the time but it’s a north star to aim for.

The first is from Chick Corea:

1. Play only what you hear.
2. If you don’t hear anything, don’t play anything.

This is simple and sometimes really hard. To me it means that every note should exist in my mind before it comes out of my hands – whether it’s a particular texture when playing backup or a phrase in a solo. Even down to the tonal color, dynamics, and articulation. This takes deep focus and deep listening both outward to the band and internally to your own ideas. When I listen to my favorite improvisers – Jim Hall, Stuart Duncan, Keith Jarrett, David Rawlings – I hear this level of intentionality.

The second is from John Hartford: “Style is based on limitations.” This means giving myself permission to play within my actual capabilities rather than the ones I wish I had. If I have to take solo over something that is outside of my comfort zone in terms of tempo, harmony, or whatever, I search for the most musical solution available within the boundaries of my own technical and conceptual limitations. This might be something simpler and more spacious than what I might feel like I’m supposed to play, and consequently truer to my own voice.

The rest of the checklist: Stay relaxed in mind and body. Listen deeply at all times. Never sacrifice groove or tone to execute an idea. Never go on autopilot when playing behind someone else’s vocal or solo. Search for the most beautiful idea, not the cleverest.

Which elements of nature do you spend the most time with and how do they impact your work?

My happiest place outside of music and family is underwater. I scuba dive and snorkel for the same reasons I play music. It feels like a portal into another universe. Diving requires an intentionality of every movement that I try to apply to making music. Your time underwater is limited by the air in your tank, and the more you exert, the faster you breathe. Every muscle movement costs you air and time, and the best divers carry themselves in the water with a calm and economy of movement that is almost meditative. It’s a flow state that slows your breathing and lets you focus your attention fully on the environment around you. I make my best music when I find that same state and put most of my awareness on what’s happening around me.

I find a lot of inspiration in California’s landscapes and colors. Kelp forests, rocky coasts and windswept coastal meadows with washed-out browns and green, golden hills dotted with green oaks, the pale gray granite of the High Sierra. There’s an aesthetic minimalism to these environments that I think shows up in some of my music, like “Lyell Fork,” a stream that flows from a glacier on a high peak in Yosemite and flows through alpine meadows and over granite slabs before joining the Tuolumne River. Or “Montaran” which is a stretch of coast south of San Francisco. In both cases I thought those tunes sounded like how those places feel.

What would a perfect day as an artist and creator look like to you?

Waking up to my kiddo climbing in bed for a cuddle. Breakfast, immediately followed by some quiet unstructured time with an instrument in my hands with an extremely good cup of coffee, before all the details of life fill my brain. A hike or bike ride with my wife. Some silly afternoon play time with my kid. Cooking mapo tofu for family dinner. Tunes and songs in the evening with a few dear friends. Someone else sends all my emails for the day.


Photo Credit: Giant Eye Photography

Steve Poltz Loves a Tangent

Steve Poltz has built a career by following each song wherever it wants to go. Sometimes that means a meticulously fingerpicked melody. Sometimes it means a story that veers off into comedy, confession, or absurdity before circling back to the heart of the matter. That tangential nature – equal parts songwriter, raconteur, and road-tested troubadour – has become his signature, especially onstage, where no two of his shows are ever the same.

Poltz’s new album, JoyRide (released January 30, 2026), reflects that same restless curiosity. Trim, deliberate, and capped at 10 songs, it distills decades of touring, collaboration, and lived experience into a tightly sequenced record designed to be heard in one sitting. From satirical observations about modern life to deeply personal reflections shaped by years on the road, JoyRide captures Poltz at a moment of clarity – still chasing the perfect song, still trusting instinct over plan, and still finding meaning in the long way around.

Long before JoyRide, Poltz earned his reputation the slow way – by logging miles, swapping verses with fellow songwriters, and learning how a room breathes. Founder of the San Diego-based rock band the Rugburns and co-writer of Jewel’s breakthrough “You Were Meant for Me,” he has never been defined by that early success, instead carving out a singular path marked by humor, humility, and an almost reckless openness.

In a conversation with BGS, we spoke with Poltz about the making of JoyRide, the longtime relationships that have sustained him, and the zany, unpredictable ride that has been his career. Whether sharing a bill with old friends or holding a crowd rapt with nothing more than a guitar and an improvised aside, Poltz approaches music less as a performance than as a conversation – one where the destination matters less than the unexpected connections made along the way.

Let’s start with early memories. Was there a moment when music really clicked for you?

Steve Poltz: I remember when I was in second or third grade, I stuttered, had asthma, eczema, and I didn’t hang out with many people. I started playing guitar when I was six. So I brought the guitar to school for show and tell. And I sang the song “Sloop John B” in class. And other kids brought snakes, brought their moms who were nurses or doctors or firemen, and their dads and stuff. I sang a song on guitar. I went out and sat alone. I remember I opened my lunch and I looked up and there were six girls around me. I thought, “This is all I have to do!” That was it. That was the plan.

I had a friend who was a DJ at San Diego State University [radio station] KCR, and she moved in with these roommates. They had brought this record by that had just come out by this woman named Rickie Lee Jones. It was her eponymous debut LP. And, oh my God, I listened to that record nonstop. There was a song called “On Saturday Afternoons in 1963,” which is still one of my favorite songs. It was in the movie Stripes with Bill Murray.

Man, two years ago I played Byron Bay Bluesfest in Australia and Rickie Lee Jones was on after me. Just the way the world works and the universe works, I knew her percussionist who plays the vibes, Mike Dillon. He sees me, and he’s sitting with Rickie Lee Jones, who’s like my hero. She’s one of my favorite lyricists ever. I’m a Dylanologist, and still, Rickie Lee Jones – those first two records especially – her poetry, the way she puts the songs together, I put it at the top of my whole pyramid.

[At Bluesfest] I told her I’d do a cover of “On Saturday Afternoons in 1963” and I segue into it from John Hartford’s “Presbyterian Guitar.” She loved John Hartford, too. She comes out during the song in front of 5,000 people, sings the second verse, and I just started crying. It was one of those full circle moments. These are the people that are my heroes.

You’ve become very deliberate about keeping your albums, like JoyRide, short and sweet. Why?

We’re just in such a quick world, where people don’t have the attention span. I’ve come to this conclusion that 10 songs is the perfect amount of songs to have on a record. Leave all these other ones on the cutting room floor. Put them out later on B-side compilations or something. Keep it under 33 minutes. It fits on vinyl perfectly. It doesn’t lose any of the resolution. If people are into you, it’s not too hard to give 32 minutes of your time. My hope is they go, “Let’s hear it again.” That’s my fantasy. One day I’ll get it right.

You’re known as a road warrior. What still thrills you about touring?

I feel like I’m kind of like the Grateful Dead in that I’m better experienced live than on record. Live, there’s magic. I’m still looking to make the perfect record. Maybe when I’m 80. I can’t believe Bob Weir just died, I mean he’s so young, 78. I’m like, “God, that’s like 12 years older than I am, I better get my shit together.”

I love it when things don’t work on the road. When something goes wrong, when animals attack. It took me a lot of years to get there, but sometimes things are really good when they don’t work. It messes with the audience. It’s like mental jiu jitsu.

Perhaps not surprisingly, you often reference comedy as an influence. How important is humor to your music?

I loved Andy Kaufman. I loved Richard Pryor. The early Steve Martin albums, Cheech and Chong – I memorized all that stuff. When I heard Allan Sherman sing “Hello Muddah, Hello Faddah!” I remember thinking, “Why can’t every song be like this?” Same thing with listening to the Dr. Demento [radio] show. Dr. Demento was huge. He played the Rugburns [on his show]. “Weird Al” Yankovic used to come to our shows and loved [our 1995 record] Dick’s Automotive. Because of that song, he wrote “Albuquerque.”

What are some of your earliest musical memories? You mentioned Rickie Lee Jones earlier. What are some other early prominent memories of being moved or touched by a song? Where were your first performances?

My uncle took me to see Julian Bream at the Hollywood Bowl. Classical guitar. That was it. I wanted to learn classical guitar. You know, with my left foot up on a stool, with a nylon string guitar, the way you hold it all in the proper classical way. I learned to read music. Fernando Sor’s etudes. My first gigs were in Mexican restaurants in San Diego. Four hours of classical guitar. Free meals. One night I got the courage to sing “Time in a Bottle.” The waitress said, “I didn’t know you could sing.” That night ended with me running out a window and leaving my left shoe behind. I never went back to that restaurant.

And then there was another one in El Cajon and it was called El Amigo. The El Amigo Ballroom. Then I got a job at Round Table Pizza in La Mesa. I got fired because I sang on the mic and I sang “The Rodeo Song.” One night, I got really drunk with the manager and I didn’t know the owner was in the audience. That was where I kind of learned mic control, because the manager was like, “Man, you’ve got a good voice for speaking. I want you to be the guy who says, ‘McDonald, party of four, you’ve got a large pepperoni pizza.’”

One night the manager got me really drunk. He was a younger guy. I started singing “The Rodeo Song,” which was this Canadian song that went, “Well, it’s 40 below and I don’t give a fuck, got a heater in my truck and I’m off to the rodeo.” And the chorus goes, “You piss me off, you fucking jerk, you get on my nerves.” It’s like a really juvenile song that was played on the radio in the late ‘70s. They would have all these bleeps where the cuss words were. And I sang it on the mic. Then the next morning I got a call from the manager. He’s like, “You need to come in and pick up your check.” I said, “We’re getting paid early.” And he goes, “No, you’re fired. We need pizza makers, not entertainers.”

Let’s talk about JoyRide. Tell us about the opening song, “If It Bleeds, It Leads.”

It started with a guitar riff. A major seventh chord. Then the melody. Then the words came. And the next morning when I woke up, I was kind of laughing. I always saved ideas, it’s like a junkyard of melodies, words, everything in my iPhone on my notes page, and then also in my voice memos. And I went, “Oh, this fits.” [Quotes:]

I can never watch the news with you because you yell back
You scream like they can hear you in the television set
What am I to do when all you’re doing is yelling at the top of your lungs?
You’re even scaring all the pets.
You’re scaring all, you’re scaring all, you’re scaring all the pets.

And it just worked out perfectly. You just kind of shave off syllables and fit it into this sort of Sudoku puzzle or something.

And next thing you know, it’s like you’re fishing and you have this song on the line. Like, where do I want it to go next? You can say, “I remember one time when you went and grabbed your pistol.” And so that harkens back to Elvis Presley, who I was lucky enough to meet when I was nine years old. He put me on his shoulders. I’m like, “I gotta name check Elvis in this.”

The songs comprising JoyRide seem especially quirky, even by your standards. Can you tell us about some of the ones that you have the most affection for?

“Petrichor,” which is track two, I really love because it’s really fast fingerpicking. I wrote that with Gary Nicholson, who wrote a bunch with John Prine and toured with Guy Clark. He’s just a wonderful songwriter. I went over to his house and I was like, “I have this idea for this song called ‘Petrichor.” I showed him the guitar riff, we wrote that song, and it’s a banger. I love playing that live. There’s one called “At It Again” that I wrote with Jim Lauderdale that I love playing live, and I love playing “Love a Little Bigger.”

There’s a song called “Hair Lift,” where I learned a tuning from Richard Thompson. It’s just my E string goes down to C and my A string goes down to G, and everything else is the same. He uses that tuning in “1952 Vincent Black Lightning,” but he capos it up. So I took that tuning and wrote this song called “Hair Lift.” I love singing that song because it’s got lines in it that are just so goofy, they still make me laugh. Stuff that I find funny, not everybody else does, which makes me laugh even harder.

My favorite one to do live is called “The Son of God,” and that’s because I get to play myself and Jesus. I’m having a conversation with Jesus, and that whole song came about because when I was a kid – it’s one of my fondest memories – [there] was this door-to-door salesman [that] came to our house. He was selling Funk & Wagnalls encyclopedias. Dude, it was like a new iPhone. All the answers to everything were in this set of encyclopedias, and I begged my parents to get them. I begged them and they got the Funk & Wagnalls encyclopedias for me.

My mom said, “You gotta read every one of them cover to cover.” And I did. Every day I would just read the encyclopedia, because I found all this knowledge so fascinating about everything. Words I’d never heard of and countries I’d never heard of. Niger! I mean, come on. And I’d want to read everything about it. So I was thinking when I made up this song, “The Son of God,” like, “Hey, whatever happened to all those Funk & Wagnalls encyclopedias?” I had this fantasy that Jesus called me up and he was trying to get rid of them, because you have to have a storage unit in heaven.

What came together perfectly on this record?

It’s hard to get me into the studio, so just that it happened is like a dream. I’m always on the road. But I recorded at this guy’s house in Nashville. The vibe was good. That’s everything to me. I wrote songs with Jim Lauderdale. One with Vince Herman. It all came together naturally.

You spent ten years in Nashville before returning to San Diego. What did that city give you?

From the moment I got there, it was where I was meant to be. Everywhere you go, you’re making contacts. Coffeehouses are where everything happens. People are polite. You don’t know who anyone is. Your Uber driver might get you a record deal. I remember I was at this coffeehouse and I looked over and there was Lisa Loeb, who I hadn’t seen in years because I toured and opened for her back in the ‘90s. I hadn’t seen her since that tour and she just happened to be in town and I was in this coffeehouse and she was like, “Steve?” “Lisa?” And she said, “You know, I always come here to write and hang out.” Then, the same coffeehouse, there is another amazing person just a week later. And then at a different coffeehouse, Jim Lauderdale. Then me and Jim became really close – and must have like 30 songs [written together] – and it just went on and on and on. Like wherever I went, I was just making contacts.

Circling back to where we started our conversation, some people don’t want humor or irony or banter in their music, staples and bedrocks of JoyRide and perhaps your entire career. How do you continue to approach and navigate those variables?

Luckily, there are hundreds and thousands of artists for everything. Some people want to slam dance or listen to really serious bluegrass. Some want to cry. My audience wants stories. They want to laugh and to cry. They want to hear some guitar playing. In today’s world, part of the whole thing is you got to be consistent, you’ve got to get out there, and you got to keep doing it, because nobody’s going to just tap you on the shoulder and say, “Hey, kid, I’m going to make you a star.” It just really doesn’t happen.

I like small rooms. Low ceilings. Shoulder to shoulder. Quiet listening rooms. Tangents. That’s the ultimate job.


Photo Credit: Jay Blakesburg

Country Stars
Country Songwriters

While every country star knows how to tell a good story, it takes a particular strain of excellence to also be able to write one.

Songwriting is the gravitational center around which Good Country orbits. Lyrics that strike at the oceanic spread of human existence, chords that evoke its sprawling underbelly – the songwriter weaves both words and notes together, using each as a tool to explore the other.

Uniquely attuned to the value in lyrical narrative and authenticity, country music self-selects its fair share of multi-hyphenate talents who, beyond their performative prowess or instrumental skills, have a knack for setting pen to paper. From Willie Nelson to Kacey Musgraves, country carries an extensive lineage of talented songsmiths. The following collection merely scrapes the surface of the best country star songwriters. Unsurprisingly, this list is a tangled web with many superb songwriters covering, popularizing, and collaborating on one another’s songs in true communal country fashion.

Willie Nelson

With over 300 songwriting credits to his name, Willie Nelson is indubitably one of the most prolific songwriters of all time – not just in country. Having written his first poem at the age of six, Nelson has nearly nine decades of steadfast dedication to the craft under his belt. Patsy Cline’s 1961 recording of “Crazy” lifted his songwriting further into the limelight. His pen went on to produce such potency that it helped define an entire new subgenre in the ‘70s— “outlaw country.”

Prized for his rebellious and forthright lyrical attitude, Nelson values raw emotion over placative commercial appeal, ironically earning him one of the most successful careers in country history. Over the years, Nelson has delivered a seemingly endless stream of hits performed by both himself and countless other musical giants, including Loretta Lynn, Merle Haggard, and Dolly Parton, just to name a few.

Bobbie Gentry

Bobbie Gentry is the keeper of a robust legacy of composing and performing. Having written her first song at age 7, Gentry taught herself to play a slew of instruments throughout her youth. When she attended college at UCLA, she began performing her songs out at the occasional nightclub, signing to Capitol Records some years later as an aspiring songwriter. In 1967, Capitol Records released “Ode to Billie Joe,” a song that Gentry had written and recorded herself. Gentry told The Washington Post that despite wanting to write songs for other artists, she only sang “Ode to Billie Joe” herself because it was cheaper than hiring another singer.

Despite her previous obscurity and the song’s dark tenor, “Ode” crept up the charts, surpassing the likes of Aretha Franklin and The Doors until it eventually pushed “All You Need is Love” out of the No. 1 spot. This astronomical success marked only the beginning of an industrious career for Gentry; she would go on to write and perform several other smash hits in addition to becoming the first woman to host a variety show on the BBC. She would later produce, choreograph, and write the music for her own nightclub revue in Las Vegas prior to retiring from show business.

Roger Miller

The King of the Road had range! Roger Miller’s songwriting legacy entailed chart-topping hits he wrote and performed himself, such as (of course) “King of the Road,” “Dang Me,” and “England Swings,” in addition to many that he wrote for other artists, such as “Billy Bayou” for Jim Reeves and Ray Price’s “Invitation to the Blues.”

His imaginative impulse made him uniquely qualified for the projects he took on later in life, including writing the music and lyrics for several songs in the 1973  animated Disney film Robin Hood, in which he also voiced Alan-a-Dale, the film’s rooster narrator. His acting career was even furthered by another musical project – Miller wrote the entire score for Big River, a Broadway musical based on Mark Twain’s The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn. The musical premiered in 1985 and earned a total of seven Tony Awards, including Best Score. Miller even played the part of Pap (Huck Finn’s father) onstage for three months following the original cast member’s departure for Hollywood.

Kacey Musgraves

One of the most influential women in today’s country sphere, Kacey Musgraves has sculpted a name for herself for both her instrumental/vocal prowess and her impactful songwriting capabilities. Her solo catalog is chock-full of compelling songs that explore the “nuances of being a human, alive and experiencing consciousness,” as she told The Cut. The thoughtful universality of her songwriting has attracted a distinguished array of performers, with Musgraves contributing her skills to songs performed and recorded by Martina McBride, Miranda Lambert, and Deana Carter, among others.

Kris Kristofferson

This September marked a year since his passing, but Kris Kristofferson’s legacy continues to burn bright. His songs maintain a rugged, raw quality without sacrificing any of their vibrance. Though Kristofferson only landed one No. 1 hit on Billboard’s Hot Country Songs chart performing his own original material, his songs were platformed by many others featured on this list, including “Help Me Through the Night,” which Sammi Smith, Loretta Lynn and Willie Nelson recorded, and “For the Good Times,” a tune made famous by Ray Price that was later recorded by Dolly Parton, Merle Haggard, Willie Nelson, and more. Kristofferson also penned a fair number of tunes for The Highwaymen, the country supergroup composed of Waylon Jennings, Willie Nelson, Johnny Cash, and Kristofferson himself, including their titular hit, “Highwayman.”

Trisha Yearwood

Author, singer, chef, Food Network television show host – just when we thought Trisha Yearwood had done it all, her 16th studio album, The Mirror, arrived this past July to showcase yet another talent you may not know that she held all along: songwriting. In an interview with Billboard, Yearwood recounts that discouragement during her college years largely held her back from incorporating songwriting into her career over the past three-plus decades. “It made me think I wasn’t a songwriter and I just always downplayed it,” she says.

The Mirror boasts powerful co-writes with many songwriters who’ve contributed to Yearwood’s earlier albums, including Rebecca Lynn Howard (“I Don’t Paint Myself into Corners”) and Maia Sharp (“Standing Out in a Crowd”). Of homing in on her songwriting craft, Yearwood shares, “It was really something that clicked a couple of years ago. I started writing and it was really kind of therapeutic and really evolved naturally out of something I felt like I needed to do and I’m so happy with how it came out.”

Merle Haggard

Widely recognized as one of the most legendary singer-songwriters of the country canon, Merle Haggard was a staunch believer in writing from his own experiences – of which he had many worth writing about. After losing his father at age nine, Haggard wound up in all sorts of trouble, from several stints in juvenile detention to developing a strong hitchhiking and train hopping habit. His rambunctious tendencies followed him into adulthood and eventually landed him in prison after an attempted robbery and subsequent failed jailbreak.

In 1960, Haggard’s life changed forever upon attending a Johnny Cash concert while incarcerated at San Quentin State Prison, which deeply inspired him. Upon his release later that year, Haggard set out to forge his own country career, garnering unspeakable success. From “Workin’ Man’s Blues” (co-written with Roy Edward Burris) to “The Bottle Let Me Down,” many of Haggard’s songs have become perennial classics.

Jimmy Buffett

Of all the narrative-focused songwriters, Jimmy Buffet undoubtedly took the premise of “world-building” the most literally. “Margaritaville,” the hit song which Buffett claimed took him only six minutes to write, has a transcendent legacy. From hotels to casinos to Broadway musicals, Buffett’s profoundly popular songwriting grew an empire. Of course, “Margaritaville” was certainly neither the beginning nor the end of Buffett’s extensive songwriting career; having released 30 albums (8 of which are certified gold and 9 of which are certified platinum or multi-platinum by the RIAA), Buffett was credited on upwards of 350 songs over the course of his life.

Don Gibson

Responsible for the songwriting behind some of the most famous songs in country history, Shelby, North Carolina, native Don Gibson was such a force that he, in fact, penned two of his most influential songs in the same day. “Oh Lonesome Me” and “I Can’t Stop Loving You” – which would go on to be recorded over 700 times by other artists including Ray Charles, Kitty Wells, and Loretta Lynn – were both conceived in a trailer park north of Knoxville, Tennessee, in 1957.

Bonnie Raitt

In addition to being the utter powerhouse musician that she is, Bonnie Raitt also knows her way around some lyrics. Having written most of her own music and with artists like Stevie Nicks and The Chicks covering her songs, Raitt’s songwriting has left an indelible mark on the blues, country, and Americana scenes. She’s known for her thoughtful and emotionally dynamic posture; for instance, her song “Down the Road” was inspired by a New York Times article Raitt read about a prison hospice program. Another, “Just Like That,” earned her a GRAMMY for Song of the Year and was inspired by a news segment featuring two families experiencing either end of an organ donation. Written from heartful depths, Raitt’s lyrics are both inspired and inspiring.

Cam

Best-known for her Grammy-nominated 2015 hit, “Burning House,” Cam (AKA Camaron Ochs) is one of the most prominent songwriters in the contemporary country scene. Another star and composer, in addition to her own four studio albums, Cam has writing credits featured on work from some of the largest industry giants in any genres. She has composed material for artists from Sam Smith to Miley Cyrus and 2024 saw her songwriting, backing vocals, and production lending a hand in several songs off of Beyonce’s chart-topping, culture-shifting country release, Cowboy Carter.

John Hartford

John Hartford’s talents truly knew no bounds. In addition to his multi-instrumental expertise, he was a fleet-footed clogger who could tear up a rug while he played. And he sure did know how to write a song. His most successful songwriting credit, “Gentle on My Mind,” (popularized by Glen Campbell and henceforth covered over and over again) earned him three GRAMMY awards and a listing among BMI’s Top 100 Songs of the Century. With covers from folks like Loretta Lynn, Willie Nelson, Dolly Parton, Merle Haggard, and many more, it’s safe to say Hartford was one of the most respected – and most recorded and most covered – roots songwriters of his time. And of our time, too, as evidenced by this I’m With Her performance of “Long Hot Summer Days,” a Hartford original fiddler Sara Watkins once recorded on her own solo project.

Chris Stapleton

A fav of Good Country and our audience alike, Chris Stapleton has had a tremendously successful performing career in both bluegrass (via The SteelDrivers) and country (as a solo artist). His guitar prowess and smoky vocals aren’t his only claims to fame; even before his rise to stardom, Stapleton had written songs for some of the most commercially successful names in country and beyond. He’s been the pen-power behind songs for industry giants such as Luke Bryan, Kenny Chesney, Darius Rucker, George Strait, Lee Ann Womack, and more. Adele even recognized the potency of Stapleton’s powers back in 2011, having recorded a version of his smash hit SteelDrivers song “If It Hadn’t Been for Love” on a deluxe version of her album 21.

Dolly Parton

They don’t call Dolly Parton the queen of country for nothing! Illustrious and industrious, Parton estimates that she’s composed nearly 3,000 songs in her lifetime, with somewhere around 450 of them recorded. Her ability to world-build through dynamic characters and narratives has set the modern country standard for story-songs, with “Coat of Many Colors,” “9 to 5,” and, of course, “Jolene” being just some of her most chart-topping successes. She’s also written plenty for other artists – think Merle Haggard, Kenny Rodgers, Hank Williams Jr., Waylon Jennings, Emmylou Harris, and Tina Turner, just to name a few. And of course, we’d be remiss not to mention that Parton penned the biggest hit of Whitney Houston’s career!

Darrell Scott

In 2007 Darrell Scott was named the Americana Music Association’s Songwriter of the Year, and this year, 2025, he received a Lifetime Achievement Award from the organization, too. In short, Darrell Scott is a songwriting powerhouse – in addition to his status as one of Nashville’s premiere session musicians.

Similarly to many other artists on this list, albeit with his own stylistic flares, Scott champions the narrative song, writing tunes full of dynamic characters and story arcs that mesmerize. Outside of his own successful solo work, songwriting for others is the bedrock of Scott’s career. Among countless other contributions, Scott wrote the Chicks’ “Long Time Gone” (later to be sampled in Beyoncé’s “Daddy Lessons”), Travis Tritt’s hit song, “It’s a Great Day to Be Alive,” and the ever-relevant “You’ll Never Leave Harlan Alive,” which has been covered by Patty Loveless, Brad Paisley, Chris Stapleton, Kathy Mattea, Luke Combs, and many more.


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Photo Credit: Kelly Christine Sutton

Brad Kolodner’s
Gourd Banjo Journey

My gourd banjo journey began on a crisp, winter day in downtown Ithaca, New York. While an undergrad at Ithaca College early in my banjo-playing days, I stopped by the local acoustic instrument store and saw a peculiar banjo-like creature hanging high up on the wall. I was instantly hooked. It had five strings and a short drone string just like my banjo. I could play the same clawhammer style I was familiar with, but everything felt and sounded different. The instrument had an earthy, plunky, and rich tone. Besides being completely fretless and tuned a few steps low, the head was made of a gourd that smelled like dirt. Flash forward 15 years and here I’ve just released an album of solo, unaccompanied gourd banjo music called Old Growth.

These days, I play a gourd banjo built by Pete Ross, an immensely talented banjo maker who lives in my hometown of Baltimore, Maryland, a town full of banjo history. The first professional banjo maker in the world, William Boucher, set up shop in Baltimore in the mid-19th century. The neck of this banjo, notably the scroll-shaped headstock, is modeled after the Boucher style. In addition to being a tool for creative exploration, the gourd banjo serves as a prism into the complex history of the banjo. It’s a reliable conversation-starter everywhere I go. For more on banjo history, I encourage you to read Well of Souls by Kristina Gaddy.

While compiling this list, I was struck by the sheer variety in tone and texture possible with the gourd banjo. While the instrument connects to the early roots of old-time music, it continues to serve as a platform for innovation. Every player is unique. This list features gourd banjoists from around the world playing traditional and original material. Let’s go on a deep dive into the gourd banjo! – Brad Kolodner

“Josie-O” – Adam Hurt

Arguably the most influential gourd banjo album of our time, Adam Hurt’s Earth Tones is sublime. Cover to cover, this is a dreamy album of solo gourd banjo pieces and it’s on regular rotation at my house. Adam is one of today’s most influential clawhammer banjo players and there’s no question his gourd banjo playing, and this album specifically, introduced the gourd banjo to much wider audiences inspiring countless musicians along the way.

“Old Growth” – Brad Kolodner

The title track of my new album Old Growth is a dark, spooky tune I wrote in the depths of winter, yearning for those sun-filled summer days in the vibrant forests just north of town. I tuned my banjo extra low on this track, hence the extra mellow vibes. The title speaks to the seemingly ancient sound of the gourd while nodding to how this music continues to evolve.

“Julie” – Rhiannon Giddens

A song inspired by a conversation between an enslaved woman and her mistress during the Civil War, Rhiannon Giddens’ use of the gourd banjo is particularly poignant on “Julie.” Rhiannon is a tremendous ambassador for the banjo. She’s reframing the conversation around the history of the instrument and the role Black folks have played and continue to play in American Roots music. The early incarnations of the banjo made by enslaved Africans were gourd banjos.

“Rolling Mills” – Pharis & Jason Romero

Based in Horsefly, British Columbia, Pharis & Jason Romero build some of the most gorgeous (gourd-geous?) banjos in the world. Jason Romero built the gourd banjo he’s playing on this track. Both are immensely talented musicians who take great care in their instrument building and songcraft.

“Darling Cora” – Nora Brown

One of the most exciting young banjo players on the scene today, Nora has a deep reverence for the roots of old-time music. Her playing is absolutely sublime. She plays a gourd banjo very similar to mine also built by Pete Ross in Baltimore. All gourd banjos are handmade, which gives each one a unique sound.

“Long Hot Summer Days” – John Showman & Chris Coole

Chris Coole is a banjo hero of mine and his gourd banjo playing on this John Hartford track fits perfectly. The slinky nature of the fretless gourd truly embodies those sluggish long, hot summer days.

“Gourdness” – Arnie Naiman

Arnie is one of Canada’s finest banjo players and a clever tunesmith to boot. I first heard his playing on the compilation album The Old Time Banjo Festival produced by Cathy Fink & Marcy Marxer.

“Goodbye, Honey, You Call That Gone” – Jake Blount

Ok so, technically, Jake isn’t playing a gourd banjo on this track. He’s playing a fretless banjo with nylon strings which sounds an awful lot like a gourd banjo. The next incarnation of the banjo in the mid-19th century after the gourd banjo was along the lines of what you’re hearing on this track.

“Four and Twenty Blackbirds Dancing on a Deer Skin / Twin Sisters” – Teilhard Frost

Teilhard Frost resides on Wolfe Island in Ontario and is a longtime member of the band Sheesham, Lotus & Son. He set out to build gourd fiddles many years ago and now specializes in gourd and tackhead banjos.

“The Rain Done Fell on Me, Pt. 1” – Justin Golden

Primarily known as a blues guitarist and songwriter, Justin Golden plays a mean gourd banjo. Based in Richmond, Virginia, Justin is a gem of a human – and he’s been going through a real challenging time as he’s currently battling stage 4 cancer. There’s a GoFundMe for him here.

“Wild Bill Jones” – Ken & Brad Kolodner

When my father Ken and I first started making music together nearly 15 years ago, we figured the fiddle and banjo would be the core focus of our music. We soon realized the percussive nature of the hammered dulcimer and the drive of clawhammer mesh together beautifully. The gourd banjo adds yet another dimension to this unusual texture, especially when cranked up to the tempo of “fast.” That’s Ken Kolodner on hammered dulcimer, Rachel Eddy on guitar, Alex Lacquement on bass, and myself on gourd banjo.

“Western Pine” – Talise

In compiling material for this list, I came across this lovely original song by the Canadian artist Talise featuring gourd banjo. I’m excited to dig more into her work!

“Jagged Mountain Is on Fire (Gourd Banjo)” – Andrea Verga

Born and raised in Italy, Andrea Verga is one of today’s most inventive and creative clawhammer banjo players. He writes adventurous melodies; this tune is inspired by the jagged peaks of the Dolomite Mountains in Andrea’s home country.

“Ard Aoibhinn / The Hunter’s Purse” – Steve Baughman

Steve is one of today’s most influential Celtic fingerstyle guitar players – he’s also one of the most creative banjo players out there. He even plays clawhammer on guitar! This medley features a pair of Celtic tunes played on gourd and mandolin.

“Pompey Ran Away” – Clarke Buehling

Considered to be the first banjo melody officially documented, “Pompey Ran Away” dates back to the 18th century. Hailing from Fayetteville, Arkansas, Clarke Buehling is a renowned banjo player and historian who has long been an advocate for the gourd banjo.


Photo Credit: Frank Evans

50 Years of 0044: JD Crowe & The New South’s Landmark Album

Writer Marty Godby called it “The convergence of 1975.”

The elements: a band that would only be together for 10 months, a benevolent venture capitalist who loved bluegrass, and an upstart record label from Boston. The resulting product was unprecedented and unforgettable: The New South, Rounder Records 0044. Bluegrass fans know it simply as “0044.”

The New South of this recording was J.D. Crowe on banjo; Tony Rice on guitar; Ricky Skaggs on mandolin; Bobby Slone on bass; and Jerry Douglas on Dobro. The impact of that configuration and the album were stunning. Yet, within a year of the recording, Rice would leave to become a founding member of the David Grisman Quintet. Skaggs and Douglas formed Boone Creek. Crowe and Slone continued performing together for years.

Rounder 0044 was influential enough to be preserved in the Library of Congress’ National Recording Registry in 2024 and was awarded induction into the GRAMMY Hall of Fame this year. This month, Real Gone Music will re-release the album on vinyl, as will Craft Recordings later this year on compact disc.

Both the origin story and legacy of 0044 have inspired great narratives, probably more than any other bluegrass album. Bill Nowlin, one of the three founders of Rounder Records, wrote three articles for BGS on the album’s 40th anniversary. They offer a step-by-step look at what happened in 1974 and 75, plus hilarious and poignant anecdotes and quotes.

David Menconi dedicated a chapter of his excellent book, Oh, Didn’t They Ramble: Rounder Records and the Transformation of American Roots Music, to 0044. In 2016, radio host Daniel Mullins focused his college history capstone project on the album. Of course, it was 44 pages.

THE SHORT VERSION

 

J.D. Crowe, already revered for his banjo playing and baritone singing, led a band called The Kentucky Mountain Boys. From 1968, they had a six-nights-a-week gig at the Red Slipper Lounge in a Lexington, Kentucky Holiday Inn. Crowe added non-traditional bluegrass instruments and songs to the Holiday Inn repertoire. This was as much to please a diverse audience as it was to keep the musicians from getting bored. In 1971, Crowe changed the band’s name to The New South.

Of the name change, Rounder’s Marian Leighton Levy said, “It was obvious that this was a new kind of bluegrass.” From a broader view, “It was an era when the South was, in a way, trying to self-consciously reinvent itself as a new, modern place. And they [The New South] were kind of the musical representation of that wider political context.”

It was the ’70s, and change was brewing – even in the tightly controlled world of country music, Levy noted. Around the same time, Willie Nelson and his Outlaw Country compatriots were reaching out to new songwriters and moving away, physically and musically, from “the factory system of Nashville publishing companies.”

In 1974, lead singer Larry Rice left the New South and brother Tony took over singing lead. Ricky Skaggs’ pure tenor mixed with Rice’s unmistakable mid-range voice, creating a new, dynamic tension for their duets and trios. In the summer of that year, Crowe and the band toured without any product to sell. At the annual Gettysburg Blue Grass Festival, Crowe, his friend and manager, venture capitalist Hugh Sturgill, and the young founders of Rounder Records initiated “The Great Convergence” – an agreement for a studio recording. An innovative contract led to the first New South album.

THE BLUEGRASS WORLD EXPLODED

 

As soon as they heard the test pressing, the Rounder founders knew they had something remarkable on their hands. “Jack Tottle [who, along with John Hartford, wrote liner notes for the album] was stunned, and he kept saying, ‘This is one of the most amazing records ever made.’ And he was not given to exaggerating,” Levy said.

“It was clear. It was crisp … and the more you played it, the more you wanted to hear it.”

0044 came out in the spring of 1975. Levy said by festival season, other bands were playing the tunes from the record “pretty much note for note.” One observer said that at one festival, almost every band on stage played “Old Home Place.”

So, what is it about that record? Let’s start with the musicians. Skip Heller, who initiated the 0044 Real Gone Music reissue, said everyone in that group of players “would talk about it like it was high school prom and their first love … they had all been in good bands before, but this was the first time they had been in a band that was as great as anything in bluegrass music had ever been.”

Levy said, “They absolutely knocked each other out. … And I think that long before anybody heard the record, they knew the band would stand the test of time – because of all of them, not just one person.”

The record’s title was The New South. Only after the first printing sold out, three band members had moved on, and it was time to redo the cover (read about the cover photo – a great story in itself), was it retitled J.D. Crowe & the New South. Crowe, born in 1937, was the venerated elder and a banjo icon. After entering Jimmy Martin’s boot-camp-of-a-band at age 18, he developed impeccable timing, his own take on Scruggs-style banjo, and excellence as a baritone singer. And he knew how to pick his band members.

The influences of Tony Rice (age 24 at the time) on bluegrass and related music are limitless – from cementing the role of guitar as a lead bluegrass instrument, to modeling impeccable rhythm playing and singing, to excelling in so many genres outside the bluegrass boundaries. At 21, Skaggs had the instrumental chops, a stunning voice and the instincts to become successful in both country and bluegrass. Rounder’s Ken Irwin attributes much of 0044’s innovation to Skaggs, including bringing a teenaged Douglas into the mix.

Douglas is to Dobro what Rice is to lead guitar. Fifty years later, after 14 GRAMMY awards and countless other honors, he continues to inspire and encourage musicality and creativity in Dobro playing. Touring with Alison Krauss since 1998, it’s likely that he has been heard live by more people than any other resophonic guitar player. Of the veteran, Bobby Slone, Mullins said, “Everyone in the band wanted to make sure that Bobby got a lot of credit. … He was such a rock solid force on that band, not just on bass, but as far as camaraderie was concerned.”

By the time The New South entered the studio, Crowe, Slone, and Rice, later joined by Skaggs, had spent hundreds of hours performing together at the Holiday Inn. Individually, they were superb musicians. Together, they were as tight as a band could be.

THE SONGS

 

Long before 0044, Crowe had blasted out from under bluegrass constraints, incorporating songs like Fats Domino’s “I’m Walkin,” and at Larry Rice’s suggestion, The Flying Burrito Brothers’ “Sin City.” The songs on 0044 were just a small set of a huge repertoire. While the unconventional musical choices sparked controversy among traditionalists, they also sparked a flame of excitement that spread quickly and widely.

In 1975, Mullins said, Ralph Stanley & the Clinch Mountain Boys, Jimmy Martin, and Bill Monroe were still “killing it” at festivals with their first generation bluegrass sound. “On the other end of the spectrum, Seldom Scene recorded Live at the Cellar Door,” an immensely popular recording, that year. Like the Country Gentlemen, the Scene had been recording songs totally out of the bluegrass box, using bluegrass instrumentation, but with an emphasis on rich melodies and harmonies, rather than just the drive of traditional bluegrass.

Mullins said, “You go to Crowe, who’s got the street cred from all his records with Martin, but he’s also looking ahead, and so he’s able to get it all in there. A lot of bands were playing to one side or the other … but to have one that hit right in the middle, right at that time, was unreal.”

“When they saw J.D. Crowe’s name up front, and they knew that he had played banjo with Jimmy Martin on all those records they had loved for 20 years, it probably made some of those hard-edged fans pay more attention,” he said.

Whatever the dynamics of the time, The New South became synonymous with great bluegrass. And 0044 made Ian Tyson’s songs forever acceptable in bluegrass jams.

ON AND ON

 

Kristin Scott Benson, six-time IBMA Banjo Player of the Year, was born the year after 0044 came out. Benson said she was about nine the first time she saw J.D. Crowe. He was playing with the Bluegrass Album Band, “and that was a formative experience. That band was so explosive, and the crowd had an air of chaos, because everybody was so excited to hear the band. Every time Tony Rice ended a solo, you couldn’t hear any music.” (Because of the crowd noise.)

It would be four years until she picked up the banjo, and two more years until she learned about The New South album – and what it meant to a banjo player.

On 0044, she says, “If you just talk quintessential banjo solos, you’ve got ‘I’m Walkin’ and ‘You Are What I Am.’ His tone is aggressive. It’s just such confident, groovy, greasy, pristine banjo. It’s impossible to overstate how good it is and how influential it is.”

“But I think you should listen to his contributions on the less banjo-friendly songs [‘Home Sweet Home Revisited,’ ’10 Degrees’], because Crowe was great at that. He was a magical backup player.”

Billy Failing, who currently plays banjo with Billy Strings, agrees. Failing started out his banjo life drawn to more progressive players like Béla Fleck. But, he said, “As time goes on, the more I circle back to J.D. Crowe. I think of how much of a gold standard he is for bluegrass banjo, and how interesting his playing is.”

“He’s considered a traditional player,” Failing continued, “but then I’m always hearing some lick that surprises me. It’s been a gradual thing, but it becomes more meaningful as time goes on. I was just listening to The New South album, and on ‘Cryin’ Holy’ – it’s just so slamming! He’s turned it up to 11 constantly on that one.” And, like Benson, he points out what he calls Crowe’s “intricate touch” on banjo.

“It’s such a cool kind of push and pull between whether he’s out front or whether he’s playing backup … it catches your attention in such a cool way.”

Benson said, “It’s easy just to be drawn to those obvious picks [like ‘Old Home Place’] but the album is so much deeper than that. This particular band presented a tightness and a level of execution that was new – I don’t think there had been a bluegrass record up until that point that was so well done.”

“The vocals, the arrangements are so well thought out. Everybody’s playing so well together. It was just a special moment and a special group of people, and I think it raised the bar for bluegrass albums,” she said, and made an imprint on so many contemporary musicians.

Benson poses the question, “Who’s the most influential modern bluegrass guy? It would have to be Tony Rice, because he affected the genre with his rhythm guitar playing, which is phenomenal. And that type of rhythm playing affects the entire groove of the band. It became the new standard, what most people go for.”

“Never discount the importance of his rhythm,” she continued, “and then obviously his lead playing, but also his singing and his material choice … so if someone pinned me down and I could only name one, he might be the guy.”

Failing, speaking of his bandmates, said, “Everybody’s inspired by The New South. I hear Billy [Strings] constantly talking about his inspiration by Tony Rice, and Jarrod [Walker] by Ricky Skaggs.” (Walker wrote liner notes for the Real Gone Music re-release.)

Mullins noted that the Rice/Skaggs blend – a lead singer with a baritone-range voice coupled with a high tenor – established a hair-tingling blend that continues to be emulated, from Ronnie Bowman and Don Rigsby in Lonesome River Band through Alison Krauss’ duets with Dan Tyminski and Russell Moore.

Benson said, “It’s an important record for the genre as a whole, and it’s also an important record to me, personally, and really, to any banjo player who is serious about learning. It’s one of those essential albums.”

UNANSWERED QUESTIONS

 

First, how did it come to be widely known as 0044? Well, nobody’s sure. Irwin and Levy remember being in the very early stages of their operations at the time – with both a new label and a new distribution company. All three Rounders had been totally immersed in music, but they were learning the business as they went, developing it on their own terms.

Levy speculated, “It is possible that it went back to when we were just calling records by their numbers,” when there just weren’t that many products. “So, it may have been something we started when we were talking, and other people picked up on it, not intentionally. And we thought it was sort of humorous.”

And how did members of Emmylou Harris’ Angel Band get left off the credits, as well as the fact that J.D. played guitar on it? John Lawless goes into depth in his fascinating Bluegrass Today article.

HAPPY 50TH BIRTHDAY

 

As the liner notes to the Real Gone Music re-release say, “Virtually no other album anywhere in history is known to its audience by its label number. Not Kind of Blue, nor Pet Sounds, Glenn Gould’s Goldberg Variations, none.”

That says quite a bit about the recording’s importance. So does the fact that two labels are issuing re-releases this year.

The Real Gone Music edition is pressed on gold-colored vinyl for its golden anniversary. Both re-releases contain two cuts not included on the original product: “Why Don’t You Tell Me So?” and a version of “Cryin Holy” with Emmylou’s voice in the mix.

Failing sums up what 0044, J.D. Crowe, and the musicians he surrounded himself with mean to him and to many of the pickers making the best music today.

“Every time I circle back to the Bluegrass Album Band, The New South, and J.D. Crowe, I’m reminded, ‘that’s how it’s done!’”


Photo Credit: Phil Zimmerman

Wear your love for 0044! Shop our exclusive RR 0044 tee on the BGS Mercantile here.