Is ‘Little Blue’ Kristina Murray’s “Ten Year Town” Breakout Moment?

Patience and persistence have long been traits embodied by the music and songwriting of Kristina Murray, but with her new album, Little Blue, she can add another “P” word to the mix: perseverance.

Now a decade into her time in Nashville, Little Blue (out May 9 on New West Records) is poised to be her “ten year town” breakout moment. Through its blend of old school country twang and swampy southern R&B she ruminates on everything from the grind, pursuing her honky-tonk dream, to finding love, and the unseen burdens placed on women. She shows off her formidable knack for storytelling in the process. The project is also direct evidence of the inroads she’s made in Music City, with artists like Erin Rae, Logan Ledger, Sean Thompson, Miss Tess, Frank Rische, and John Mailander all lending a hand.

Originally from Atlanta, Murray was introduced to country as a child via a cassette of Patsy Cline’s greatest hits in her mother’s car. She eventually got her first guitar in high school, but didn’t play it anywhere outside of open mics and church camps until she moved to Colorado in the mid 2000s to pursue a degree in recreational therapy. While there, she became immersed in the regional bluegrass scene and began playing out more, slowly gaining confidence and building toward her eventual move to Nashville in 2014. While she was only in Colorado for six years, Murray still looks back on her time out west as foundational for her direction in life and the art she’s pursuing now.

“I’d never lived outside the South before and had a couple mentors of mine tell me I should give it a try for a little bit,” recalls Murray. “It was out there where I realized that being a musician is what I wanted to do with my life. Once you get bit by the playing-on-stage bug, there’s no going back. It’s so much more than just playing for people, too. It’s also being in sync with your band and performing at a high level and the energy feedback loop that can come from that.”

Since relocating to Nashville, Murray has become a linchpin of the city’s dive bar and juke joint scene, frequently popping up at places like Dee’s Country Cocktail Lounge and Bobby’s Idle Hour, and became one of the first women to front a full band at Santa’s Pub. But despite all this, she was starting to feel stuck as the pressure of things like her father’s sudden death, car wrecks, watching others have the success she’d been waiting on began to weigh her down. But in that darkness she was able to find a glimmer of light, and Little Blue was born.

Leading up to the album’s release, Good Country caught up with Murray to discuss imposter syndrome, expectations in the music business, the healing power of music, and more.

If going from open mics and church camps in Georgia to diving into Colorado’s bluegrass scene was a big step, then moving from there to Nashville must’ve felt like being on another planet. What was that transition like?

Kristina Murray: My time in Colorado was foundational in some ways. I learned the Nashville number system, how to play with a band, and how to execute a bunch of different songs really well while I was there. But, eventually, it got to being a big fish, small pond kind of thing. You can make a living out there just by playing cover songs in bars, but what I wanted was to write songs and be around people my age who were also writing the kind of songs I like, wanted to listen to, and wanted to write. Moving there was a big step because Nashville is the place where the music I love was and is still being made.

You’ve been grinding away in Nashville for a decade now as an independent musician, but this new record marks your debut with New West. How’d that partnership come about?

Southern Ambrosia [was] the first record I put out after moving to Nashville and, quite frankly, I didn’t know what I was doing. I had seen a lot of my peers kind of take off and naively I thought, “Well, this is a really good record full of great players and good writing and I’m in this kind of circle community; because all those things are true, then this record should get me to the next place that I wanted to go.”

It was actually on the radar of Normaltown and New West back in 2018, but things fizzled out because I didn’t know how to go about having conversations with business people about my music – I’d never done anything like that before. Fast forward a few years, this record was done in 2023 and by early 2024 I was talking with them again about picking it up. Their support means a lot, because it’s really difficult to get your record and your career to the places that you want to go without it.

New West and Normaltown are also based out of Athens, Georgia, and I’m from Atlanta, so it means a lot to be involved with them on that level as well. I was a huge Drive-By Truckers fan in my 20s and can’t get enough of Jaime Wyatt, Lilly Hiatt, Nikki Lane and others. There’s just a lot of people that I love and respect on that record label and I’m happy to be a part of the family.

Better late than never, I suppose! You just mentioned the feedback for Southern Ambrosia not meeting the lofty expectations you had for it. I imagine seeing friends and colleagues having success with their music – from signing with labels to getting on bigger and bigger shows to nailing down high-profile writing sessions – doesn’t help to keep the imposter syndrome at bay.

It’s funny, because during my decade in Nashville I really have seen so many people just skyrocket, and it’s all been so deserved, like Erin Rae – nobody sings or writes like her – or Sierra Ferrell, I mean who else sings like that? Logan Ledger, who also joins me on this record, is one of my favorite singers and songwriters around. During my time here there’s been so many times when I’ve thought that something must be wrong with the way I sing or write to not be getting all those opportunities for myself. But I’ve come to realize that having all that isn’t what will validate me as a musician, writer, performer, and person who simply loves this music, because at the end of the day, if I still get something out of it, shouldn’t that be enough? It’s something I’ve grappled with a lot through the years and continue to do on this album.

Speaking of expectations in the music business not always being reality and the illusion of success, are those things you’re tackling head on in the song “Watchin’ the World Pass Me By”?

What’s funny about that song is it started out as me just trying to see if I could write a basic “outlaw” country song. It obviously evolved a bit from a writing exercise parody to a commentary on getting “so tired of watching ‘em livin’ my dreams” and “daddy’s bankroll to make the rules” nepotism and suddenly being a country singer, because you threw on a cowboy hat. But I also poke a bit of fun at myself, too, with lines like “She’s just a bitter, jaded, helpless fool.”

Another tune I’ve really enjoyed is “Phenix City.” In many ways it seems like an outlier on the record, a story song amid a sea of deeply personal, autobiographical tales. With that in mind, what was your intention for including it here?

Most of this record is autobiographical or composite sketches of me and those around me, but that one specifically is a story song. It very much paints a picture of small-town circumstances in Phenix City, a small town in Alabama along the Georgia border. One time I was driving down to a gig in Columbus, Georgia, and instead of going through Atlanta I decided to head straight down from Nashville through Alabama. I rented a car because my van was out of commission, and about a half hour outside Columbus I broke down after running out of gas because I had my music so loud I couldn’t hear it beeping. I eventually got it to a mechanic shop in Phenix City where the man told me I just needed some gas, which was both a relief and a moment that made me feel like the biggest idiot around, but briefly getting stuck there did inspire the song in a roundabout way.

Similar to “Phenix City,” another outlier of sorts on Little Blue is the lead track, “You Got Me,” which seems to revolve around the early, butterflies-fueled stages of love. Mind telling me a bit about it and the mood it sets for the remainder of the project?

I’m not one for writing love songs too much. The only other real love song I have is “The Ballad Of Angel & Donnie” from Southern Ambrosia, which is another story song about a meth dealer and his girlfriend. I wrote “You Got Me” early on in my relationship with my now-partner. It’s a very true-to-life song and I knew if it was going to be about him that it had to be a really cool-sounding song. My guitarist, James Paul Mitchell, came over one night when I was writing it and helped to come up with that signature lick you hear on it right at the beginning, which I loved. I really wanted it to be like a Band song with the Clavinet sounds that they twin throughout the song. My partner, Corey [Parsons], also plays percussion on this one, which is really sweet that he got to put some of his touch on a song about him.

The song also starts with the word “and,” which came from a writing exercise after listening to Robert Johnson’s “Love in Vain.” It begins with “And I followed her to the station.” I thought it was so cool to start a song with “and,” because it’s like you’re just dropping someone into the middle of a story.

While “You Got Me” is a bright spot, a lot of this album leans more toward the somber and dark. What are your thoughts on the catharsis and healing that can come from writing through difficult times such as the ones you’re encountering here?

The album is titled Little Blue for a reason. We are remiss to forget how significant the pandemic was and how devastatingly sad that period of time in our collective human history was. A good chunk of these songs were written during that two-year period along with general ruminations about the sad and unjust world we live in that even the music industry isn’t immune from. It feels silly at times to whine and cry about the music industry when there’s so much other crazy stuff happening, but that’s the world I live in so I have to write through that.

I wouldn’t say that writing songs is cathartic for me as much as sharing in the collective. What grabs me about music is when it feels real and is relatable to me and I hope that I’ve done that here with what I’ve written about. Music is magical, so the fact that I get to do this at all is amazing and continues to drive me. I’m never not going to be amazed by music. For instance, I took a harmonica lesson the other day with Ilya Portnov, who also plays on the record. I’ve done a little bit of Bob Dylan-esque singer-songwriter harmonica, but I really wanted to understand the harp a little bit better. It’s a magical feeling when the music and notes and scale are all working together. I feel endlessly humbled by it and very proud that I get to be a small ripple in the river of music.

What did the process of bringing Little Blue to life teach you about yourself?

That I’m gonna keep doing it regardless of if it makes any sense at all. I didn’t get my record deal until after everything for this album was done, meaning that I funded it all myself. It was a lot to handle, because making records isn’t cheap, especially if you’re paying people what they deserve to get paid. I feel very lucky and grateful for all the folks that lended their talent to this record. It made me realize that the more I keep pushing ahead to more everything will begin to make sense around me. It’s a mix of perseverance and understanding that good things take time and intention. I feel really good about this record and even though it’s only my third, and first in six years, I’m glad to put it out in the world because we need art now more than ever.


Photo Credit: Schuyler Howie

Mandolinist Joe K. Walsh on Building ‘Trust and Love’

On April 4, Joe K. Walsh released his latest album, Trust and Love. The project is an utterly gorgeous take on minimalism within music. It combines a unique instrumentation of Joe (on the mandolin family instruments), Rich Hinman (guitar, lap steel, pedal steel), Zachariah Hickman (bass), Dave Brophy (drums and percussion), John Mailander (fiddle, except track 2) and Bobby Britt (fiddle, track 2).

I’ve been very fortunate to get to study mandolin with Joe as my teacher for the last four years at Berklee College of Music. In talking with him about Trust and Love, what stood out to me in a significant way was the excitement he has in making music with his friends and finding music that brings a great amount of joy. Often as musicians, we lose track of the point of playing music–to bring joy to ourselves and those who are listening to it. Joe has always emphasized this and in listening to his new album, it brings home this powerful message.

What was the inspiration of the album and when did you start writing it?

Joe K. Walsh: Well, I’m always writing. Every day I try to write, I think it’s a good goal. I like the concept of not waiting for inspiration and there’s that line Bill Frisell had in his notebook which was, if you want to learn how to write, pick up a piece of paper and a pencil or something like that, just start doing it. So I try to write every day and most of it’s garbage, but I believe in the numbers game. This wasn’t really a batch of tunes written all together. Some of the tunes are older, probably as old as six or seven years. As for the inspiration for the album, the music I need at the moment and have [needed] for about five or six years is peaceful music. Music that has a restorative quality, as opposed to exciting or some sort of impressive stuff. I’m trying to write stuff that fills a room with beauty as opposed to stuff that’s just like, “Oh man, kick ass bro!” That was the idea with this collection of tunes.

Let’s say I have 30 or 40 tunes. In a moment where I’m like, “These might be worth giving some air to in public,” then you look for some sort of theme that ties some of them together. That was the theme here. There was a while when I was making records that I believed in, but were also partially about what I thought the mandolin was supposed to do. There was a disconnect between what I listened to and what I played, and I think it’s weird that there was a disconnect. I just became really aware I was listening to these spare and peaceful records that are entirely about interaction and trying to find beautiful melodies as a composer, but also as an improviser with the group. That’s not totally distinct from bluegrass, but it’s also not the same.

In your album description, you write that this body of work is “showcasing the power of musicians listening and reacting to each other, sensitive improvisors sharing a musical conversation and following the threads.” When you’re writing something like this and give it to the band, was there more or less an arrangement idea that you had? Or was it just you all playing with each other and experimenting with it as you went?

I think it’s a little of both. I think in situations like this record, the hiring is probably as important as the writing. Finding people whose musical instincts I completely trust and don’t want to direct was really important. I’ve been privileged to be in situations like that with people where I don’t want to give them all the answers. I know that if I do, the end result will not be as good as if I bring in some ingredients and see what collectively we come up with. I’m not saying a person wouldn’t come in with some arrangements, I like to come in with ideas and try things out. I like the phrase “remain open to revelation.”

You also say that a big concept of this album is “less is more” and that, now more than ever, we need to be thinking about that. Can you talk about how you would take those life concepts and apply them to your music and how you practice?

There’s a lot there! [Laughs] Well, first of all, I am kind of a little disenchanted with the approach to playing the mandolin or the approach to playing improvised music that is centered around technical fireworks. I think that that can be exciting, but it’s also not where I’m at emotionally these days, with the state of the world and the state of my family and everything. I do think I’m finding myself preferring music that leaves space and that doesn’t have to state everything, that has faith in its listener, where you can hear a connection without it being explicit or made insultingly explicit. I think all those things would fall into the category of less is more.

But the main thing for me, and this is not a “hot take,” this is not my solitary opinion, but obviously we’re living in a maximalist moment with just an unstopping onslaught of information and stimuli. I really need music now where we have an attention span and patience for something unfurling slowly. Obviously that’s not everybody, everybody doesn’t need that, but I do. I need a longer form. You know there’s longer form journalism, I’m drawn to that of course, and I think there’s an argument that there’s a connection with music for longer form and longer amounts of patience.

Yeah, I definitely hear that.

I feel like many people know you for your more bluegrass-adjacent mandolin playing. You also play in a not-so-bluegrass, bluegrass-related band, Mr. Sun, which sounds pretty different from this album. You talk about the idea of minimalism in a time of maximalism, do you feel like that is a newer concept that you are playing with in this album, or is that something that you are thinking about often, even when you’re playing a lot of straight ahead bluegrass? Are these concepts and feelings still in your mind?

Yeah, you know how the version that one friend knows of us is different than the version somebody else knows? Both of those versions can be true and I feel like the same thing happens with going from one musical relationship to another. What comes out may be dramatically different, and hopefully you focus on the shared value system of whomever you’re playing with. That may end up being a distinctly different sound. I guess that is to say, I feel like all these things are reflecting a similar value system; it just comes out differently with different people.

How did you come up with the instrumentation for this group?

That’s a good question. It’s unusual to have a record with mandolin and pedal steel on it together.

I love it!

Nice, awesome! You know, when I came out of Berklee, I used to think, “OK, I found a banjo player, now I need to find a fiddler.” You know, thinking about it from these “recipes” we’re getting acquainted with and understand. It took me a little while to shift to thinking about personalities that I connect with more so than instruments. I just felt a strong intuition that all the things I’m articulating were values that Rich shared, but also I knew it was the case with John, Bobby, and Zach. I knew Dave less, but I felt safe guessing. But specifically with Rich, I really felt that all the things I was trying to do were based on values that he shared and I didn’t even have to particularly discuss it. That’s always the best, when you just know that someone gets your goals and you don’t have to describe them; they’re already sharing the same goals.

I feel very grateful to have the opportunity to work with musicians that I find very inspiring and beautiful. It’s a great privilege to get to share some days with musicians like that and have them be willing to share their personalities that way. It’s not something to take for granted.

That’s pretty beautiful, especially with an album that’s just so much about time and space and overall has a sweetness to it.

I appreciate that. Like I said, I realized the things I was listening to just sometimes felt distinctly different than what I was sometimes playing. Both are great, and I’m definitely not trying to say I don’t like playing bluegrass or listening to it. I absolutely love it. It’s great and definitely a big part of my musical diet, but also, for years – decades even – I’ve been listening to these really quiet, understated records. I always think, “What’s the thing that ties Martin Hayes and Bill Frisell together?” They are very different, but they sustain my attention in a way that doesn’t use the tools that many other people do with maximalism is really what I mean.

That’s a great way to put it, because I never really thought of music as being minimal or maximal. But after listening to your album and reading what you wrote about it, I started thinking about it and it’s interesting to go back and observe things that you thought were just so sweet, realizing that actually there is so much happening.

Music, for me, is about trying to create beauty and trying to create a feeling and a shared connection through those things. I’m really adverse to the idea of music as a tool for ramping up our own egos, which is a challenge. I feel like there are choices you can make, and I’ve become more aware of the choices that I feel are serving my ego versus serving the music or moving towards a feeling. It’s not always either/or, but I’m trying to be more suspicious and adverse to the things that feel like they’re serving my ego.

On this album, you go between different members of the mandolin family–

Yeah, mandola, octave mandolin, and the mandolin of course.

How did you find the right instrument for each song?

[Laughs] It’s an experiment! They’re all tuned in fifths, so in a sense you could just argue they all feel the same, but I think when you try and write, even picking up different mandolins, even just one mandolin to another, may inspire different thoughts. Certainly switching from the mandolin to the mandola leads to me paying attention to different things and, if I’m lucky, catching inspiration to chase an idea. Some of these tunes were written specifically on the mandola and stayed there, and the same is true with the octave mandolin.

I also think, [thinking about] sustain, the octave mandolin, bizarrely enough, feels to me like it does that in the mandolin family. Sometimes I feel like playing the octave mandolin you can’t be as athletic, because of the physical challenges of the instrument, but also it can sometimes have a little more sustain. Again, you can be nudged in a nice, positive, “less is more” direction trying to be musical with a smaller collection of what’s possible.

Let’s talk about some of the tunes on the album! I feel like throughout the whole project there is this really solid vibe that you build and it’s just gorgeous. Then you get to “Cold City” and it feels to me like a different vibe. Did it feel that way to you?

I think that’s fair.

I can see what you mean with the minimalism in this song, but it also has that kind of rocking “oomph” vibe going.

No, you’re totally right. You know, part of the whole thing with this arc – of trying to just crack the code on how to make quieter music that sustains interest – is just being afraid of letting go of some of these things that I know sustain interest. I like that tune, and I think it turned out good, although I think I also could have saved it for a more bluegrass record and that maybe would have made more sense. [Laughs]

I think it works in such a cool way on this album, because it lends this new lens to what you’re already seeing through the other songs.

I also think contrast is one of the most important things in music and that song certainly is contrasting. Basically, I never walk away from a record feeling like I will no longer doubt the decisions I made. That’s not how it works for me. You kind of just get used to the idea that there won’t be a full resolution on some of these decisions you wrestle with. That’s just how it is and you move forward anyway.

The pedal and lap steel on this album are really awesome and amazing. I feel like a lot of musicians don’t seem to mess around with those sorts of textures. There is a moment in the steel solo on “Closer, Still” where it feels like the other instruments drop out a little bit and it’s just the mandolin and steel. That spot feels really special to me and feels like there is this little conversation that the mandolin and steel are having. What it evoked to me was that they are sharing a little secret. How do you think about those two instruments intertwining in general and with music on this album?

Well, one thing that is distinctly different playing with a pedal steel – and again, I really feel like it’s about personalities you can connect with. But in a more tangible way, sustain changes everything. It’s not like we don’t have sustain on the mandolin, but it’s not like a fiddle or a pedal steel. I think with sustain, you’re able to do less and I think that’s probably true for what Rich can do or doesn’t have to do. I think it’s also true that when he is sustaining something, I don’t feel as compelled to, “Quick! Do something!” I think there’s a sense that things can wait a little bit.

I also think that’s true having the drums. That buys a little space, in a sense. There’s more going on, but somehow I can do less or it feels like there’s less going on.

As I recall, there isn’t steel on the whole album. There are some songs where Rich plays other instruments. I like that, in that moment coming out of the steel solo, or still kind of in there, it’s just such a different texture and it was really cool to hear it.

One of my favorite things is listening to people who really listen to each other and for whom the next thing that’s gonna happen is not predetermined. That’s the thing that kind of ties together the people that I was excited to hire for this particular record!

You can do that, obviously, with jazz language and that’s a beautiful thing, but I also think it’s really beautiful and under-explored to do that without requiring jazz language. So often that approach, mentally, goes with advanced and more complicated harmony that some people would call “jazzier” harmony. It’s a really beautiful thing to have that mindset, but not necessarily move in a more harmonically complicated direction.


Photo Credit: Natalie Conn

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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


Photo Credit: Michael Weintrob

MIXTAPE: Paper Wings’ Folk Rebels Playlist

While we could easily be mistaken for “a pair of demure young ladies playing in a mid-19th century parlor” as thoughtfully observed by Bluegrass Today some years ago, we are in fact drawn to folk music not for its wholesomeness, but for its realness and its capacity to have you at the edge, staring down the rocky cliffs of life into the depths of your humanity. The songs that endure and have been carried into the future often tend to have a lot of darkness balanced with beauty (reverence and irreverence), because that’s what resonates with folks. It’s what we’re made of. And anyone who dares to sing complex truths and carry stories around in their heads can be a folk rebel.

On our new album, Listen to the World Spin, we stopped worrying about how traditional we sound or “should” sound and just made the music we wanted to make. These songs tend to have themes of the contrast between connection, solitude, our personal struggles, and how we relate to the greater world around us. We ask a lot of questions on this album, the answers to which could be complicated, but ultimately are simple because there is no answer. Sometimes the best thing one can do in life is just listen.

This playlist of songs features friends, heroes, and legends; inspiratoria from our pasts and present. As we refuse to put ourselves into a musical box, so too do the artists on this playlist. Best enjoyed on a long walk or drive, preferably alone or with someone who gives you company without robbing you of your sense of solitude. Much love, – W & E, Paper Wings

“Same Old Man” – Karen Dalton

I love this combination of rough old-time banjo and electric guitar. What a voice. – EM

“Nine Hundred Miles” – Barbara Dane

I remember hearing this track for the first time on Democracy Now and it hit me as being so so cool… a feeling I only really get from punk music and raw, gritty folk. If you haven’t heard of Barbara Dane, you must look her up. She was a very involved activist during the civil rights movement and also wrote some very sharp political songs. – WF

“Sunlight” – Rushad Eggleston

I am a huge fan of the cello goblin’s love song era. – EM

“I don’t love nobody” – Elizabeth Cotten

Nobody plays guitar this good. Elizabeth Cotten is a legend, not much else to say. – WF

“I’ll Wash Your Love From My Heart” – Hazel Dickens & Alice Gerrard

Hazel & Alice are such heroes of ours! Independent, fierce, deeply committed humanists and musicians who have shone light on the path of living a life that is true to those values. – EM

“What Will We Do?” – Foghorn Stringband

Reeb Willms and Nadine Landry are true modern badasses. This track features them singing a capella on this foghorn record, and somehow it’s just as energetic and captivating as when the whole band is playing. They are incredible instrumentalists, but they don’t even need their instruments to make really good music. – WF

“No Reason” – Sunny War

I first heard Sunny play this song live in Nashville and the guitar part instantly stuck in my head. It’s so satisfying, my brain craves it. – EM

“Bad Repetation” – Woody Guthrie

From the spelling of the title, to the pronunciation of “window,” to the fact that the timing changes on every refrain and I still haven’t worked it out, Woody is the epitome of bad-boy-American-folk-singer-fun-rebel-friend. – WF

“Say Darlin’ Say” – Laura Veirs

It was bold to do this song this way with electric guitar. The hook at the end gets stuck in my head from time to time. There are so many poorly reimagined/re-harmonized trad songs, and to me, this one works because it is sparse, it is catchy, and it isn’t perfect. – WF

“Lopin’ Along Through the Cosmos” – Judee Sill

Our friend John Mailander turned me onto Judee Sill in 2019 and I listened to nothing but her for months, absolutely obsessed. The words to this song mean so much to me, “However we are is ok.” Nobody writes a melody like Judee. – EM

“Cumberland Gap” – Spencer & Rains

I remember hearing Howard and Tricia practicing this version of “Cumberland Gap” at Clifftop as they were camped next to me and being totally obsessed. I don’t know where they dug up this version, but it’s so fun and a good reminder that even when you think you know the coolest version of a song, there is probably a cooler one still out there. Also, this whole album is fun and you can even hear Emily play bowed bass on it, watch out. – WF

“Chewing Gum” – The Carter Family

I dare you to jump rope with your best friend to this song and try not to laugh when you sing the words, “I wouldn’t have a doctor, I’ll tell you the reason why/ He rides all over the country and makes the people die.” – WF

“Left Hand Lane” – Paper Wings

We wrote this song on a night drive home to Berkeley, talking about doing our taxes and being afraid of accidentally doing them wrong. We had borrowed a car from our friend Vynce. I somehow managed to live in the San Francisco Bay Area for 7 years and never had a Fastrak beeper (the toll taking company for bridges, express lanes, IYKYK) but we got to live that Fastrak life on this particular trip and it made it into the song. Thanks Vynce!! – EM

“Pretty Bird” – Laurie Lewis & Linda Ronstadt

I listened to Laurie’s albums growing up and long before I even played music. I am lucky now to call her a dear friend. I love her writing and her taste in covers. To some this might be a song about a little bird but it takes next to no imagination to hear it cautioning a young woman “he would only clip your wings.” – EM


Photo Credit: Kale Chesney

Chatham County Line Say Goodbye to Bluegrass, ‘Hiyo’ to Synth-grass

For nearly a quarter century, North Carolina-based Chatham County Line have pushed the boundaries of American roots music, but with their new album, Hiyo, they’ve finally knocked them down.

Released January 26, the album contains some of the band’s most far-flung soundscapes to date, as they introduce synths, drums, and other sonic elements to their repertoire for the first time ever. The resulting creations sound more like synth-grass than bluegrass, with everything from drum machines to stretched out harmonicas, harmoniums, and other oddities guiding the way. According to guitarist, vocalist, songwriter and founding member Dave Wilson, the drastic shift in direction stems in part from the departure of banjo player Chandler Holt, who stepped away from the band following 2020’s Strange Fascination to spend more time with family.

“We listen to all kinds of music so I wanted to make an album that reflected that,” Wilson tells BGS. “We knew when Chandler left that we didn’t want to just do the same thing we’d always done with a different person on banjo. That’s not how artists grow in the world. You instead look at something as a springboard for change, which is exactly what we did in moving toward a sound that more closely resembles the music we enjoy playing when nobody’s watching.”

The experimentation on Hiyo was further encouraged by its producer, Rachael Moore, who the band met during their time portraying George Jones’ backing band on the Showtime series, George & Tammy. Both the opportunity to be a part of that show — which manifested itself through a friend of a friend — and meeting Moore were complete happenstance, with the latter seeing the two parties build an instant rapport.

“Anybody that works in the studio with T. Bone Burnett that many times and has been a part of records like [Robert Plant & Alison Krauss’ Raise the Roof] is alright by me,” praises Wilson. “That’s the kind of music I listen to, so us making that connection to Rachael made us realize how hard a worker she is and how much she understood the sound we were going for. We knew then she was who we wanted to record our next album with.”

Speaking with BGS from his home near Raleigh, Wilson further touched on the band’s connection to George & Tammy, the similarities between the recording process and being on a film set, Phoebe Bridgers’ influence on one of Hiyo’s songs and more.

Who are some of the bands you’ve been listening to that helped inspire the sonic shift of Hiyo?

Dave Wilson: That last Sarah Jarosz record really blew me away. She’s just a phenom. There’s also two radio stations that I listened to religiously throughout the writing process for this album. Whenever I’m messing around with a guitar or building a tube amp in my basement I listen to the radio, and one of the stations I tune into is called “That Station” here in Raleigh. They play everything from us to Mipso – and a bunch of other local acts – in addition to bigger Americana artists making waves. That’s where I heard the Sarah Jarosz stuff.

Being tuned into what people are doing today is very important to me, because I’m a part of this too. If I’m asking people to listen to me instead of Led Zeppelin then I need to listen to Sarah Jarosz instead of Led Zeppelin, because she’s a living, breathing artist that deserves that respect. I take a lot of joy out of not only buying modern albums, but listening to radio that supports those artists as well.

On the flip side, I love WWOZ 90.7 FM in New Orleans. That’s on constantly and is full of crazy, disparate sounds, old songs, funny blues stuff and more. I never get bored of DJ Black Mold down there.

How did the rapport working with Rachael Moore on George & Tammy translate to the studio with these songs?

I’ve listened to a million records and I really wanted this one to sound like the ones in my head. In the studio we tracked three or four songs per day, then at night I’d lay in bed in disbelief at the way the music sounded better than I had ever imagined us doing. We demoed the songs, so we had an idea of what it was going to sound like, but with the additions of [Jamie Dick and John Mailander] there was a huge leap forward that outpaced my wildest imagination. I’m so glad we were able to capture that, and it wouldn’t have happened without Rachael’s knowledge and connections.

Did you notice any similarities between your experience recording this album and time on set for George & Tammy?

It was really about seeing how hard all these people work, plus the whole concept of down time vs. on time, where you have to deliver an emotional performance before sitting around for 20 minutes as the cameras get moved around before jumping right back into your role like you didn’t miss a beat. It shows you that that is the job. It’s more about sitting around mentally preparing yourself and managing your emotions between those two extremes.

That rubbed off, because in the studio it’s a lot like that, too. In most cases the songs are written long before you go to record them, so when the time comes to get in front of the microphone you’ve got to deliver it with an intensity like it’s still brand new. That’s how George Jones delivered a vocal. He left no doubt that he was the character in his songs, not just the person singing them. That’s the approach we’re trying to take so we can deliver the goods when it matters most.

One of my favorite songs on Hiyo is “Heaven,” which I understand is somewhat inspired by Phoebe Bridgers, of all people. How’d that come about?

I live about three hours from Charlotte, which is where I grew up. My father, who’s in his early 90s, started going through some Alzheimer’s stuff during COVID that had me driving back and forth often to take care of him with my mom. During those trips I got to listening to Phoebe Bridgers to the point I’d have one [album] on repeat each way of the drive. I really dig her style of writing and think some of that influence rubbed off when piecing together “Heaven.”

The song was actually more of a country shuffle in the beginning, so in the weeks prior going to the studio I got my drum machine out of the basement to make some demos for Jamie, so he’d have a template of it to reference. One day I decided to try the Fender VI on it, hit the drum machine, and got playing. Something about those sonic elements, how the words came out and the harmonica completely shifted my perspective of it.

That’s another way we approached this record when we added a drummer. We went back through our catalog and redid a bunch of old songs entirely different as if we were covering ourselves. So with this album, I approached it as if I were covering these songs and how we could change them up, because my favorite cover songs are completely different from the originals except for the story and melody.

You mentioned earlier the influence of New Orleans’ WWOZ on this record and I feel like no song better embodies that than “B S R.” Would you agree with that assessment?

It was a huge part of that song. I actually also play banjo on it in open G tuning. One day I also tuned my Stratocaster to it and began playing the opening riff, which isn’t necessarily what the song is built around, but did help it to pop when we first brought it to the studio. Since then, I began playing Stratocaster in open G with super heavy, flat line strings on it and it’s become one of our favorite songs to play.

I also have family in Mississippi and my mom’s from Alexandria, Louisiana, so I traveled there a lot as a kid and have a general knowledge of the area. To be honest, New Orleans is the coolest city in America. It’s the one that’s got soul. There’s other towns with soul, but none that can match New Orleans. There’s live music in literally 40 places every night!

I’m also fond of the change of pace provided by the instrumental “Under the Willow Tree.” How does your approach change when writing songs with lyrics vs. composing an instrumental piece like this one?

I think some songs just lend themselves to having a story told over them and some, instrumentally, can tell a story from their melody alone. When Chandler left the band it was a sign to me to up my game and dig in a little harder, because until then I’d deferred to banjo and mandolin for most of the solos and heavy lifting. I’m a huge fan of Leo Kottke and other guitar virtuosos, so “Under the Willow Tree” is my homage to players like him.

Despite not being an instrumental, another song that gives me the same feel of “Under the Willow Tree” is “Stone,” both for the wisdom it imparts and its ballad-like feel. What was the motivation behind it?

That is the one song that I wrote during the pandemic. It was informed by all of the protests that were going on and the idea that when it comes down to it, you have the ability to change not only yourself, but you can change those around you with whatever power you have at hand. That can come from a deep conversation and from exchange of ideas and respect for the other person’s opinion, but in this case it comes from our music.

Music has a way of bringing people together in a way that few other things can match — just ask Taylor Swift fans! At the end of the day, we’re all gonna be a piece of dirt that a tree grows out of, so just relax. “Stone” was born out of a simple riff and that idea questioning what is permanent in this world, because all want something positive to persevere when you’re done and your story is getting told.

One thing that I regret about the advent of recorded music is the families that used to sit around, everyone playing an instrument and singing. There’s a therapy in that that went long overlooked. It’s just really positive and healthy for everyone included to sing a bit and let the world go for a minute.


Photo Credit: York Wilson

WATCH: George Jackson, “Alhaji”

Artist: George Jackson
Hometown: Nashville, Tennessee
Song: “Alhaji”
Album: George Jackson’s Local Trio
Release Date: July 18, 2023 (video); August 18, 2023 (album)
Label: Adhyâropa Records

In Their Words: “I feel a much stronger sense of identity with this record. In many ways, it’s still working with the concepts that I was getting at with Time and Place, trying to be a part of something with a long history while also trying to bring myself to the table as an outsider, but now there’s a lot more confidence in bringing together the different elements I’m interested in and continuing to form my voice with less fear of ‘doing it wrong.’

“(Banjoist Frank Evans) can go very deep in old-time as well as bluegrass music, and also has an interest and proficiency as an improviser and with jazz concepts. He just feels like such a natural fit for me musically. (Bassist Eli Broxham) has such a fearless spirit in the way that he approaches music.

“Fellow fiddle player John Mailander (Bruce Hornsby, Billy Strings) produced the record, collaborating closely with the trio to achieve this boundary-pushing vision. Something that I’m proud of with this record is that it doesn’t sound like music that has been made before — we were able to push old-time in genuinely new directions using arrangements, samples, and recording techniques.” – George Jackson


Photo Credit: Libby Danforth

Artist of the Month: Billy Strings

Billy Strings takes things up a notch for Renewal, a long-awaited collection of original songs produced by Jonathan Wilson. But is it bluegrass? Or is it rock ‘n’ roll? Perhaps more on the psychedelic side? Truly there’s no right (or wrong) answer to these questions. As Strings himself puts it, “I’ve learned, you’ve just got to let the song do its thing. So that’s what I try to do — write songs and let them come out however they do.”

Billy Strings is no stranger to the festival circuit, bluegrass or otherwise. His career trajectory over the last few years has netted him international acclaim, a handful of IBMA Awards — including Entertainer of the Year at this year’s IBMA Awards show — and even a Grammy for his 2019 album, Home. A Michigan native who now lives in Nashville, Strings says, “I called my last record Home, and then a few months later that’s where we all got stuck. Right now, we’re heading back into opening back up, and doing some more touring with real concerts and real shows. Hopefully we can renew everything. I think it’s an interesting word. It reminds me of how every morning is a renewed day and another chance.”

With Renewal, Strings seizes upon the opportunity to surprise his listeners and to expand his own musical horizons. By winning the Grammy, he discovered a newfound confidence to consider every creative path that presented itself. Because he’s bringing in his touring bandmates Billy Failing (banjo, vocals, piano), Royal Masat (bass, vocals), and Jarrod Walker (mandolin, vocals, guitar), as well as guests John Mailander (violin), Spencer Cullum Jr. (pedal steel) and Grant Millikem (synth), Renewal is far more than just a singer-songwriter record, even if it exposes his own mindset more than any of his material to date.

“I listen to this album now and it’s emotional,” he says. “I could sit there and tweak it forever, but there’s a point where it’s like building a house of cards. Yeah, I could add an extra tower on top, but it might collapse. I’ve always doubted myself, and I still do, but this album makes me think, ‘Hey, you’re doing all right, kid. You just need to keep going.’”

Read our exclusive two-part interview with Billy Strings here, and enjoy our BGS Essentials playlist below.


Photo credit: Jesse Faatz

The BGS Radio Hour – Episode 206

Welcome to the BGS Radio Hour! Since 2017, this weekly radio show and podcast has been a recap of all the great music, new and old, featured on the digital pages of BGS. This week, we bring you new music from jam-grass band Leftover Salmon, the debut single from Watchhouse (formerly known as Mandolin Orange,) and so much more! Remember to check back every week for a new episode of the BGS Radio Hour.

APPLE PODCASTS, SPOTIFY

Leftover Salmon – “Boogie Grass Band”

Leftover Salmon has been playing what you could call “boogie grass” for over 30 years now. After their COVID-induced live music hiatus, the founding Colorado jam-grass band brings us a new album Brand New Good Old Days, and this next song celebrates that boogie grass sound that everyone loves.

Avi Kaplan – “Song for the Thankful”

Avi Kaplan brings us a song about finding gratitude and beauty in every realm of life, good or bad. His hope for the listener is that they can “find gratitude in their life regardless of what end of the spectrum they are currently in.”

Peggy Seeger – “Lubrication”

As our Artist of the Month for April Peggy Seeger put it herself, “Folk is full of raunchy songs, but they’re not often sung.” In our recent interview, and on her recent album First Farewell, Seeger ruminates on the joys and sorrows of aging.

Sam Armstrong-Zickefoose – “Heart of Mine”

Sam Armstrong-Zickefoose wrote this song about feeling you’re on the outside looking in. Sometimes even after moving towards the direction of “fitting in,” it’s still easy to feel out of place.

John R. Miller – “Faustina”

John R. Miller is a true West Virginia picker-singer-songwriter if there ever was one. While inspired by folks like John Prine and Steve Earle, Miller is celebrated among the same stature — including by his friend from the same region, Tyler Childers. We mark John R. Miller’s 2021 signing with Rounder Records with “Faustina,” a single that brings promise of a great debut record.

Lady Nade – “Willing”

From Bristol, UK, Lady Nade wrote “Willing” to foster acceptance, loyalty, and friendship. The video was filmed in her hometown along the route of a Black Lives Matter protest last summer. As she explains, “the way the video and song came together portray the message of self, as well as community.”

John Mailander’s Forecast – “Returning”

For fiddler John Mailander, “Returning” captures the collective feeling amongst the musicians in the studio playing together at the time of recording, the rediscovery of connection and joy after so many months of isolation.

Watchhouse – “Better Way”

After more than ten years as the duo Mandolin Orange, burdened by the dichotomy between the name and the music they strived to create, Andrew Marlin and Emily Frantz changed their name to Watchhouse, deciding through the COVID-19 pandemic that the time for change was now, given the growing and soon-to-be opportunities for bands to share their music on a live stage again. Here’s their first single since the change!

Alex Heflin – “Guest Room”

With his new album, Room for Everyone, Alex Heflin intends to highlight that inclusivity in both genre and personality always adds interest and excitement to a medium. In this case, the track “Guest Room” benefits from that approach.

Zach Schmidt – “I Can’t Dance”

Zach Schmidt spoke with BGS in a recent edition of 5+5 on the influence of Guy Clark – and greasy enchiladas! – on facing loss and working through it, spending time with Mother Earth, and more.

Mark Rubin, Jew of Oklahoma (feat. Danny Barnes) – “My Resting Place”

Mark Rubin wrote this old-time bluegrass number inspired by the drive of Jimmy Martin, yet based on a 100-year-old Yiddish poem. He says, “If I’m being honest, I wrote it with Del McCoury in mind as the thought of a 100-year-old Yiddish labor ballad sung on bluegrass stages cheers me to no end.”

Richie Furay – “Go and Say Goodbye (Live)”

Rock and roll legend Richie Furay’s new collection 50th Anniversary Return to the Troubadour celebrates his long career with bands like Poco and Buffalo Springfield — and his connection with former bandmate Stephen Stills’ music remains as strong as ever. Furay has recorded this song, written by Stills, with every band he’s been a part of over a half-century career.

The Rose Petals – “They Say You Loved a Good Man”

“They Say You Loved a Good Man” was written about former president Calvin Coolidge and his wife Grace, but ultimately, it’s a song about regret — living your life with the best intentions, yet still falling short of expectations.

Abby Hollander Band – “Still Got It Bad”

Abby Hollander recently joined BGS for a 5+5 — that is, five questions and five songs — and brought us this tender bluegrass heartbreak tune.


Photos: (L to R) Peggy Seeger by Vicki Sharp; Watchhouse by Kendall Bailey; Avi Kaplan by Bree Marie Fish

WATCH: John Mailander’s Forecast, “Returning”

Artist: John Mailander’s Forecast
Hometown: San Diego, California
Song: “Returning”
Album: Look Closer
Release Date: May 7, 2021
Label: 9 Athens Music

In Their Words: “‘Returning’, the first track on our new album, came together on the first day of our session. To me, the track reflects some of what we were collectively feeling, playing in the same room together after so many months of isolation. We were all masked and spaced out the whole time, but the rediscovery of that connection and joy shined through. This track is kind of loosely a continuation of where our last album, Forecast, left off, but it also feels like a new beginning as each musician’s voice enters one at a time and joins together again. The animation was made by Anna Jane Lester. I think it’s a perfect visual accompaniment to the song, the way it moves forward with persistence through the changing seasons.” — John Mailander


Photo credit: Jake Faivre

Bluegrass is Trance (And Old-Time, Too)

Bluegrass is trance. Old-time, too. 

With a slightly more zoomed out perspective, this fact comes into focus pretty quickly. American roots music and its precursors, especially their string band forms, have been interwoven with dance for eons. Before the advent of recorded music, when the popular musics of the day could often only be consumed by upper classes, dancing and other social group activities were the center places music inhabited. Before radio shaved popular music down into bite-sized, three-minute chunks, the tunes would last as long as necessary to provide a backdrop for a reel, a hornpipe, or a square dance, extending fiddle tunes into ten- to twenty-minute, cyclical, musical meditations. “Turkey in the Straw” as mantra, “Chicken Reel” as a slightly wonky, onomatopoeic sound bed.

Detached from dance, it’s easy to forget that string band music has been designed with trance embedded within its structures. Chris Pandolfi is a banjo player who’s explored quite a bit in trance and trance-adjacent music with the Infamous Stringdusters, a seminal jamgrass band with a level of bluegrass’s technical virtuosity that’s unmatched in all but a select few ensembles in a similar vein. Pandolfi’s new record, Trance Banjo, which was released under his solo stage name, Trad Plus, moves further and further beyond American roots aesthetics, cementing the banjo and its musical vernacular within trance – the electronica variety as well as the age-old, human kind.

Trance Banjo, and tracks such as “Wallfacer” — whose trippy visualizer music video almost cements this article’s central argument — recalls albums by Scott Vestal, or live shows by post-metal shredders like Billy Strings, or experimental, avant garde compositions by cattywompus flattop mashers like Stash Wyslouch. It’s not just a simple coincidence that so many players from bluegrass and old-time backgrounds find themselves dabbling with trance.

John Mailander, a fiddler who’s toured with Molly Tuttle and Bruce Hornsby and has been hired as a side-musician with many a jamgrass-leaning band, is comfortably uncomfortable in a very similar musical realm as Trance Banjo. On an EP of sketches and improvisations released last summer (from the same sessions and experimentations that became his upcoming album, Forecast) Mailander and his bluegrass-veteran backing band play with trance centered on sparseness, vacancy, and negative space in a way that’s engaging and baffling, both. Mailander’s rubric of vulnerable, emotive, and transparent expression as a foundation for improv is key here.

That personal touch, the personality endemic in these trance experimentations, is certainly what makes them most compelling and it must be, at least in part, what ties these songs to the centuries-old tradition of music as meditation. Rhiannon Giddens and Francesco Turrisi make more than just a musical brand of showcasing their personalities and identities in the music they create, it’s more like a mission statement. Giddens has an incredible aptitude for writing and composing music based on empathy and human connection and Turrisi holds expansive knowledge of world folk music and percussion.

Their compositions and collaborations illustrate that, when we connect our music to dance, percussion, and trance, we’re connecting it to thousands and thousands of years of history — of humans of all ethnicities, cultures, backgrounds, and identities, gathering, connecting, sharing, and loving through music, dance, and trance. On stage, Turrisi and Giddens deliberately connect these dots as well, utilizing stage banter to educate their audiences about these exact connections.

While old-time has held onto its penchant for movement and choreography through the generations, bluegrass continues to grow distant from this and many of the other cultural phenomena that gave rise to it. Trance Banjo, and projects like it, while they seem to gleefully run away from what we perceive as “traditional” aspects of these genres, are in many ways guiding us right back to the very folkways that birthed them. 


Photo credit: Chris Pandolfi by Chris Pandolfi