Artist of the Month: The Secret Sisters

The secret is out, as the Secret Sisters have finally issued their newest album, Saturn Return. Time is a through line of the project, heard in songs like “Late Bloomer,” as well as the album title, which is an astrological reference to Saturn returning to the same location in the sky as it was when you were born. Motherhood also informs the music, as sisters Lydia and Laura Rogers were new mothers at the time, but also grieving the recent loss of their grandmothers.

Produced by Brandi Carlile and Phil and Tim Hanseroth (aka “The Twins”), Saturn Return positions the sisters as solo vocalists to some degree, as both Lydia and Laura recorded separately for the first time. And in contrast to their other albums, they wrote all of the material here themselves. A sweet celebration of the women who came before them can be found in the opening track, “Silver,” while the final track, “Healer in the Sky” is poignant, vivid, and simply beautiful.

Look for a two-part interview with the Secret Sisters — our BGS Artist of the Month for March — in the weeks ahead. (Read part one here. Read part two here.) In the meantime, enjoy our Essentials playlist, comprising choice covers (including one of Carlile’s songs), rare and interesting collaborations, and new music you’ll want to hear from Saturn Return.


Photo credit: Alysse Gafkjen

BGS 5+5: Dustbowl Revival

Artist: Dustbowl Revival
Hometown: Los Angeles, CA
Latest Album: Is It You, Is It Me
Rejected Band Names or Nicknames: “When I was first trying to figure out the band name, we asked the audience at the first ‘show’ we played at the old Brown Derby in LA. I almost went with the name of the first album, The Atomic Mushroom of Love, but that would have been too much.”

Answers by Z. Lupetin of Dustbowl Revival

What’s your favorite memory from being on stage?

As nerve-wracking as it was, I’m super glad we had the cajones to try and record our live record Lampshade On at The Troubadour in LA and The Great American Music Hall in San Francisco. Both spots have such history and it felt like we were floating while doing it. Two of the most intense, rowdy, and giving crowds we’ve ever played for. Truly I almost freaked out and messed up the first few songs at The Troubadour — it meant so much to me to be there — but the energy is palpable on the record and that was worth it. Recording live is like trying to play music on a tightrope with your eyes closed.

What other art forms — literature, film, dance, painting, etc — inform your music?

I can never stay in one medium for long. It’s like only eating Italian every meal for the rest of your days — there are so many storytelling mediums that are so worth our time. Short stories are a forever favorite. I am also a playwright and I’ve always seen a lot of overlap between performing music and creating dialogue and stories for theatre. Why can’t conversations be had in the middle of a song?

I’ve always had a macabre sense of humor and the work of writers like Edward Albee, Christopher Durang, Sam Shepard and poets like James Tate and short story masters like Etgar Keret and Peter Orner seem to scratch an itch I try to get to with my songwriting — telling stories of normal people in deeply strange and emotionally epic situations trying to figure things out the best they can. Can magical realism be a genre in music instead of Americana?

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

I adore hiking up mountains when I can and maybe it’s the Pisces in me, but I have a visceral need to be near an ocean or a big old body of water (I grew up by Lake Michigan). Jumping in lakes, ponds, oceans, weird hotel pools, you name it, I do it as much as possible to reset my brain. Riding waves thirty blocks from my house is among the most purely joyful things I know to do. I find myself bringing the sea and the sky and the limitlessness of space into a lot of songs accidentally. My grandfather was a part of the space program so maybe his curiosity was passed down to me in some way.

Since food and music go so well together, what is your dream pairing of a meal and a musician?

I’d love to share a few hot dogs and some fries with John Prine. I share his love of a good dog — being from Chicago, the simplicity and perfection of a Vienna beef sausage on a steamed poppy seed bun with all the fixins and the spicy sport peppers for extra crunch and tang — it just can’t be beat. It’s the first thing I get in the Chicago Midway airport on layovers. Also John is a lesson in well-spiced simplicity!

How often do you hide behind a character in a song or use “you” when it’s actually “me”?

This is a tough one as my bandmates (and my mom) will often question if a song and its story are personal or simply a fantastical vision of something I wished could happen or feared might happen. Initially the opening song on our new record, ‘Dreaming,’ was about a baseball closer who blows the biggest game of his life. It wasn’t personal at all of course, and when we changed it up to be more about a performer who panics in the bright lights it did feel more grounded and emotionally real, because it came back to being a version of me. Not me exactly.

I do get nervous before shows. I’ve never almost died out there (not yet!), but I strongly feel starting with a seed of truth and letting your imagination (or paranoia) run wild creates the most unique story. I’m very lucky — I came from an insanely supportive and artistically curious family — but that doesn’t mean I don’t see the tragedy and darkness that lurks within our family history if one looks hard enough. People are complicated and often don’t reveal what’s really going on. I tried to uncover that in our tune ‘Sonic Boom.’ What if you told the person you loved most what was really going on inside? Stretching the truth can still be personal — and creating fantasies maybe can help us find out who we really are.


Photo credit: Shervin Lainez

WATCH: Brandy Clark, “Who You Thought I Was”

Artist: Brandy Clark
Song: “Who You Thought I Was”
Album: Your Life Is a Record
Release Date: March 6, 2020
Label: Warner Records

In Their Words: “The seed of the song came from something that John Prine said a couple of years ago at the Americana Awards. He walked out onstage at the Ryman and everyone stood up and clapped for what felt like five minutes. When everyone sat down, he said with a little laugh, ‘Well, I’m John Prine, but I’d like to go back to being who you thought I was.’ Man… that hit me. The songwriter in me instantly knew it was a song and the heart in me knew it was how I had felt in my own life many times. I mean who of us hasn’t let somebody down or wanted to be the version of ourselves that someone who loved us thought we were?” — Brandy Clark


Photo credit: Chris Phelps

An Incomparable Album, ‘White Noise/White Lines’ Is the Kelsey Waldon Experience

I’ve had the good fortune of knowing Kentuckian country queen-in-waiting Kelsey Waldon for almost the entire time I’ve lived in Nashville — more than eight years at the time of this writing. I’ve stood over her unfathomably enormous cast iron skillet, filled to the brim with bubbling, sizzling battered fish. I’ve sung harmony on one too many choruses of “Smoky Mountain Memories” after perhaps one too many slugs of Kentucky straight bourbon whiskey with her, too. 

And yet, in listening to her brand new album, White Noise/White Lines, I still found myself picking up fresh tidbits of her extraordinary yet downright ordinary approach to musicmaking, songwriting, self-expression, and artistic exploration. Waldon, despite limitless comparisons to almost every female country forebear to ever growl through a lyric, remains a paragon unto herself, a true singularity in realms of American roots music. 

White Noise/White Lines cements the fact (which has always been plain as day to those who dug deep enough) that Waldon will refuse tidy, one-for-one comparisons to any/all other country stars and writers who have come before her or who count themselves among her contemporaries. Except perhaps two: Loretta Lynn — whose “Coal Miner’s Daughter” inspired Waldon’s own “Kentucky, 1988” — and John Prine. The latter is fitting, in so many ways, now that Waldon makes her label home with Oh Boy Records, label of the denizen of Kentucky songs, meat and threes, and plain spoken oracle-like wisdom through lyrics. 

A brief album by many measures, White Noise/White Lines captures technicolor moments of Waldon’s life, her joys, her musings, and her homeplace, encouraging listeners to lean into the record’s brevity and engage wholly with each constituent moment therein. Because truth needs no more than a moment.

For BGS I made the trek out to Waldon’s cabin outside of Nashville and after a quick stroll around the vegetable gardens and a tour of the many Kentucky-themed decor items imported from one state north, we settled in the kitchen, sipping water out of mason jars, to talk.

People routinely refer to you as being similar to Loretta, similar to Tammy Wynette, Kitty Wells, Patsy Cline. People are constantly making these comparisons to these kind of foremothers of country and I wonder how that makes you feel, to be a bookend against someone like Loretta or Tammy Wynette?

Kelsey Waldon: Honestly, I think that’s an incredible compliment. Those are all, you know, my sisters that have gone before me, women that I’ve looked up to quite a bit. Especially in the country music realm. However, I also kind of feel like, especially with this new record, I think it’s apparent that hopefully I’m also finding quite a bit of my own thing. 

Sometimes when people say things like that to me it’s like, well maybe their scope of country music isn’t that wide. When someone would be like, “You sound like Patsy Cline!” I’d be like, “Uh, no I don’t.” [Laughs] I mean, I love Patsy Cline and I hold her up as something sacred, I wouldn’t ever even sing Patsy just because nothing touches that. 

I think it can kind of be, dare I say, a lazy comparison to just kind of name [some popular woman country star.] It’s definitely there. Even sonically, I was so inspired by them. Especially Loretta, absolutely.

I hope the new record showcases that with the years we’ve spent on the road — just using even my own touring band. It starts at country with me, I can’t just flip off a light switch and say, “Oh, it’s not country!” I guess some people can do that, but I don’t see it that way. Country is just so much embedded in me. No matter what form my artistic expression comes out, that’s still gonna be there. It just may not be cookie cutter, it may not be formulated. It may not even sound exactly like that. One thing that I think the growth of this record shows, hopefully, is that these are my songs, I’m not a throwback artist. I’m not a retro artist. I am an artist making music in 2019.

I did want to talk about your band, I think it’s remarkable. It’s getting more and more rare that folks tour with the folks who played on the record, because — and it’s not the fault of anybody — they’re trying to make money on the road. So if they stack their record, of course they aren’t bringing those people on tour. Why is it a priority for you to have the same band?

There are obviously all of these amazing musicians out there who are session musicians and a lot of people I’ve been fortunate enough to play with myself. I’ve learned a lot from [them]. This time around, this was always a goal of mine, to have a record that had a band I wanted on it. I worked really hard to find the band to really fit those pieces together. It took me a while…  just trying to figure out really what I wanted. My last record, I’ve Got A Way, caused the right people to gravitate towards my music. I mean, I eventually found the band that I have now because they heard those earlier records and they were like, “I would love to be a part of this.”

The band I have now, which is Mike Khalil, Nate Felty, and Alec Newnam — and Brett Resnick played on the record, but he doesn’t get to play with us a lot anymore, he plays with Kacey Musgraves, which is wonderful. But with the band I have now I just knew it. I was like, “I think this is it.” We all knew it. Even Brett. People were like, “We think this is the right combination.”

In that way, too, there’s nothing wrong at all with using session players, I just think, honestly — and I might be a little biased — my band is just as good as any. I think they could, and they will be one day, they will be those session players. They care so much about their craft and they work hard. I’m very lucky. 

One of the things that excites me most about this record is that I’ve always heard the bluegrass influences in your music, but they’re really forward in this record. Especially in your rhythm playing, in your rhetorical style in your writing, in your vocal phrasing, even in the arrangements with the twin fiddles and there are a couple of “fast waltzes” on the record. I love that “Lived and Let Go” really could be played on bluegrass radio. 

I think that is such a huge compliment, thank you.

It’s bluegrass! I wanted to ask, and not just because we’re The Bluegrass Situation, but in general, because this is a huge part of the canon of music you reference and that you listen to. Who in the bluegrass sphere influences you now and who has in the past — and I’m gathering Ola Belle Reed is at least one of them. 

I love Ola Belle, obviously, we did an Ola Belle song on the record. Well, I love that you can pick that out. To me, I feel like it’s plain as day that there’s a bluegrass influence all over it. To some people it’s not as apparent, I guess. I’ve had some people just be like, “What is this thing that you’re doing?” It’s because they don’t listen to bluegrass. I’m like, “I STOLE that!” [Laughs]

I guess I understand now why they don’t put those two together, if you’re talking about mainstream country, because that’s clearly not. But to me, I’m always like, “Of course bluegrass is country.” It’s also bluegrass, but it’s also country.  It’s like the OG country music. 

I would say one of my favorite influences, one of my favorite singers ever, is Dale Ann Bradley. She’s up there for me. I really think Dale Ann should be a legend, honestly. And Ralph Stanley, and obviously I love Bill [Monroe], and Jim & Jesse, and all those groups. And early Keith Whitley, I’ve been obsessed with that for a long time. 

I think it’s interesting that you mention both Ralph and Keith back to back like that, because you can hear elements of both of their vocal phrasing and vocal techniques, in what you do singing-wise. 

The same thing with Dale Ann. They have such unique registers of their voices and it’s something that I really relate to. Sometimes I didn’t really know what it was that I was doing. I could kind of hear my own voice in [their vocals]. If that makes sense? I could really relate to that. It’s so soulful. 

I feel like Keith could sing on anything. [Laughs] He sounded exactly like Keith. That’s the beautiful thing about a country singer to me, he could sing on an R&B track and it would be sexy as hell. It’s like George Jones — and Dolly can sing on anything, as far as I’m concerned. That’s a great singer, to me. Ralph, I’ve always said that he is like the Pop Staples of mountain music. It’s like he doesn’t even have to be loud, but he is so loud. He’s barely singing. He’s just projecting. I love Flatt & Scruggs as well. 

New artists… Molly Tuttle, I love what she’s doing. That new record. She’s really taking a genre and making it her own. Something that’s not worn out or tired. Doing something fresh. She has accomplished making this new for people. In my own way, I hope to do that as well. 

I don’t guess there’s anybody else completely new, besides like Sister Sadie, and Dale Ann! [Laughs] They are some BAD girls!! Dale Ann, man. The mark of a true artist is that she can sing all of the covers she does. Like I said, I think Dale Ann should be a legend. 

Words are clearly your priority in your songwriting. You’re prioritizing what you’re meaning to say first and foremost, then making the melody and music and everything work around what you’re trying to say. It sounds effortless when you listen to it, but I wonder what kind of intention goes into that?

Songwriting is kind of interesting to me in that way. I’ve actually heard a couple people be like, “It sounds effortless.” Sometimes, it is effortless and you’re just like, “Wow that kind of poured out of me. I didn’t realize it was in there but it poured out of me in like five to ten minutes.” With this record, though, there were definitely a couple of things I had to go back to. I had the meat and taters, but there were a couple of things I rewrote and made sure made exactly the sense I wanted them to make. There’s a balance there, too. You don’t want to kind of go too far, over-analyzing the whole thing.

With “Kentucky, 1988,” I think your songwriting up to this point has felt so personal, and so tightly intertwined with who you are, that I almost didn’t realize that you hadn’t written this exact kind of song, yet. What brought you to the point of wanting to be that direct with telling your origin story? Was it more intuitive or more purposeful?

That was definitely purposeful. That is awesome that you’ve observed that, because I’ve felt the exact same way. I was writing new songs and I felt like, “You know, I haven’t written my ‘Coal Miner’s Daughter.’” I don’t really have something that is kind of like this definitive origin story. I just set out to write it. The title was actually kind of inspired by someone I forgot to mention, Larry Sparks — one of my favorite singers. 

Oh my gosh!! “Tennessee, 1949!!” 

Yeah! Yeah, it was inspired by that. That and a Tom T. Hall song that has Kentucky and a year in the title, with the comma and everything. In my head all of that sounded so cool. Everything about it, the rhythmic feel, it all rolled right off my tongue great. I just had to write it. People always [say], “That’s very vulnerable and transparent.” Well yeah, isn’t that what we’re supposed to do? [Laughs]

I know a lot of artists say this, but I definitely think this is the most personal thing I’ve done so far. I think all of it has been very transparent, in a way. I want to completely embrace that. I want to be as much of a freak as I want to be. It’s not like I was afraid to before, I just don’t think that I was ready. My mom always said I was a late bloomer, but she said, “When you bloom, baby, you’ll bloom!”  

I did want to ask you about the significance of the Chickasaw Nation members singing on the record. We hear them at the end of “White Noise, White Lines.” What’s the personal significance of that for you? And are you a tribal member? Is anybody in your family a tribal member? 

No. All of the Rollins side of my family, which is my granny’s side, they were all of French and Native American descent, but I never claimed anything like that. I just think it’s been something that’s been such a part of where I grew up, culturally. Even just hunting for points [arrowheads] and having such a respect for that way of life and culture. 

It’s always really hard to keep this story short, when people ask me about the song, because I wrote it right after this amazing experience I had back home in Monkey’s Eyebrow, Kentucky, my hometown. When I went back to watch a ceremonial dance that the Chickasaw from Ada, Oklahoma [performed]. They came to re-bless the Wickliffe Mounds. They ended up lodging at my Dad’s that night, for free, [he was] cooking the food, doing the catering and stuff. I ended up staying down there and visiting.

We just became friends with the members of the tribe. We had so much fun. They’ve kept in touch… My dad took them arrowhead hunting for the first time, and they were doing ceremonial dances out on my dad’s land as well. I think he really really was appreciative of that. We were kind of the only people who ever lived down there in those river bottoms, maybe besides [the Chickasaw]. I mean, it’s the river bottoms. That’s why we find all these artifacts. No one has been down there except us. 

I just remember thinking about how awesome the weekend had been and the radio had been on white noise for literally fifteen minutes and I had no idea. I was just in this tranquil moment. The song is just a detail of all these things. The solar eclipse had also blown my mind that weekend. Just realizing how small we actually are, compared to what is even going on in this universe. 

Naturally, I included the details. “Chickasaw man got a buffalo skin drum,” because Ace — Ace Greenwood and Jesse Lindsey, that’s who’s on the song — actually did have a buffalo skin drum. It was pretty badass. My dad asked them to sing some songs on the porch. I love Ace’s voice, it reminds me of Ralph Stanley. It’s a voice that just feels like it’s been there for a long time. It’s so pure. I just loved it, I was really touched.

He sang a song that had been in his family for generations. The message of the song was basically, “Though I’m far away I’m still near you. No matter where I am. We are together.” In that moment that really was something I needed to hear. I put that [on the record] not only because I thought it was beautiful, and I wanted people to experience what I felt, but I also wanted the record to feel like an experience. 

Ace told me one time when we were down there that the media likes to tell his people who they are and that’s not who they are. I think in a way, perhaps it’s also why I thought it would be really beautiful to have that at the end as well. I hope it doesn’t seem like it was for my own reasons, I guess. I was just writing about that weekend and I felt like it was so beautiful to me I wanted it to be documented. 

I think it makes a lot of sense. And I’m not saying it’s not a complicated thing to talk about, or that it doesn’t trip into some territory that we as settlers will never fully understand, but I do think that it follows perfectly with you bringing your whole entire self to your music. So much of what you do is tied to place and is tied to coming from Kentucky. 

That was another part of it, showcasing where I’m from. And the cultural background of it. 

And not just the colonial background of where you’re from? 

No. I mean absolutely not. To me, that’s exactly how I saw it. Nail on the head. It might cause a little bit of question, but I think that’s good. ‘Cause then I’ll get asked about it. And then I’ll tell ‘em. [Laughs] 


Photos by Laura Partain for BGS. See the entire photo story.

BGS 5+5: Micky & the Motorcars

Artist: Micky & the Motorcars
Hometown: Austin, Texas
Latest album: Long Time Comin’

Answers provided by Micky Braun

Which artist has influenced you the most … and how?

It’s hard to say which artist was most influential, but I’d say John Prine, my dad Muzzie Braun, and Pinto Bennett. They are my favorite songwriters. Always a great story in every song.

What’s your favorite memory from being on stage?

I think my favorite times on stage are every year when we play the Braun Brothers Reunion in Challis, Idaho. At the end of every night we always end up on stage with our friend’s bands and family bands singing and having a blast.

Since food and music go so well together, what is your dream pairing of a meal and a musician?

I’d say you can’t go wrong with putting on John Prine’s The Missing Years record, opening a bottle of red wine and cooking a good pasta.

How often do you hide behind a character in a song or use “you” when it’s actually “me”?

I tend to write a lot about personal experiences as well as stories I hear from friends or read. So I’d say about 50/50.

What was the first moment that you knew you wanted to be a musician?

I’m not sure I ever had that big moment when I knew this was what I wanted to do forever. I just started playing music at a young age and started really enjoying writing songs, learning how to play different instruments and performing on stage. I’d say I really knew I was a lifer when I was about 20 years old. That’s when the band moved to Austin and we threw our hat in the ring. We haven’t turned back since.


Photo credit: Kat Smith

BGS 5+5: Jeremy Ivey

Artist: Jeremy Ivey
Hometown: Still looking for it
Latest Album: The Dream and the Dreamer
Nickname: Jivey
Old band names: The Lunar Ticks, Riverbottom, and Horse Sense.

Which artist has influenced you the most … and how?

I was influenced early on by poetry. Poets like T.S. Eliot, Poe, Dickinson, Keats… all those ones you get exposed to in high school. I put a tune to Longfellow’s “The Fire of Driftwood” And would play and sing it. Later I got into the Beats and that really twisted my head in the best way. After that it was Bob Dylan, Joni Mitchell, Leonard Cohen and all the song poets.

What’s your favorite memory from being on stage?

The first time I got to join John Prine for “Paradise” and more recently, I did my first encore. That was surreal.

What other art forms — literature, film, dance, painting, etc. — inform your music?

I think of everything as an influence. I mean, when I was a toddler I watched Captain Kangaroo, when I was 9 my uncle was struck by lightning, when I was in high school I had a deep infatuation with a girl I was invisible to. That’s all living art and I think it affects the art we in turn make. Film is definitely important because of dialogue. There’s dialogue in songs too. I like Sam Peckinpah.

What was the first moment that you knew you wanted to be a musician?

I’m still not sure I want to. It’s more of a calling I guess…a nervous twitch I can’t seem to shake

What’s the toughest time you ever had writing a song?

Oh I don’t know, I probably blocked it out. I try not to try when comes to writing. There’s no bigger drag than hitting that high stone wall of effort over inspiration. I try to stay inspired period. If it’s not happening in a song I’ll go find it in nature or in a book.

Americana Honors & Awards 2019: Photos & Winners

Brandi Carlile is still on a roll, picking up the Artist of the Year trophy at the Americana Honors & Awards on Wednesday night (September 11) in Nashville. Meanwhile, John Prine claimed a statuette for Song of the Year, sharing the award for “Summer’s End” with his co-writer Pat McLaughlin. He also earned a trophy in the Album of the Year category for The Tree of Life. Other winners include I’m With Her (Duo or Group), The War and Treaty (Emerging Artist), and Chris Eldridge (Instrumentalist).

The following awards were also presented: Lifetime Achievement Award for Performance: Delbert McClinton; Legacy of Americana Award, presented in partnership with the National Museum of African American Music: Rhiannon Giddens and Frank Johnson; Trailblazer Award: Maria Muldaur; President’s Award: Felice & Boudleaux Bryant;Inspiration Award, presented in partnership with the First Amendment Center: Mavis Staples; and Lifetime Achievement Award for Songwriting: Elvis Costello.

Performers included Rodney Crowell and Joe Henry, Mark Erelli, Erin Rae, Ruston Kelly, Lori McKenna, Mumford & Sons, Amanda Shires, Yola, and more. The Milk Carton Kids returned to host the ceremony at the Ryman Auditorium. See arrival photos.

 


Chris Eldridge


I’m With Her


Delbert McClinton


Maria Muldaur


Bonnie Raitt & John Prine


Mavis Staples


Francesco Turrisi and Rhiannon Giddens


The War and Treaty

Photos: Terry Wyatt/Getty Images for Americana Music Association

Nitty Gritty Dirt Band’s Jeff Hanna Reflects on ‘Will the Circle Be Unbroken, Volume Two’

Why mess with a classic? That was the original thought from a few members of Nitty Gritty Dirt Band when the idea was presented to record a sequel to their seminal 1972 album, Will the Circle Be Unbroken.

However, with encouragement from one of the group’s biggest fans, the legendary June Carter Cash, the recording sessions for Will the Circle Be Unbroken, Volume Two commenced in the winter of 1988, with a cast of accomplished musicians who are now considered cornerstones of Americana music.

Often referred to simply as Circle 2, the acclaimed project was released in 1989 and went on to win three Grammy Awards and a CMA Award for Album of the Year. To commemorate its 30th anniversary, Jeff Hanna shares its back story with the Bluegrass Situation.

Editor’s Note: Jeff Hanna and guest Sam Bush will participate in a screening of clips from a documentary film, The Making of Will the Circle Be Unbroken, Volume Two, at the Country Music Hall of Fame and Museum in Nashville on Wednesday, September 11 at 11 a.m., during AmericanaFest.

BGS: Can you explain why Circle 2 is such an important album for the band?

Hanna: It’s important in our history because at that point, we were no longer just the kids. We were all in our early 20s when we did the first Circle record, making music with those revered folks. And so we had a different point of view, somewhat. Here we were in the midst of our mainstream country career, and we still revered the first album.

The way we viewed Circle 1 was like something untouchable – just leave it. It is what it is. As time went on and as that project matured, it mattered a lot to a lot of people, including us. So we resisted the concept of doing another Circle record. Especially me, Jimmy Ibbotson, and Jimmie Fadden. Bob Carpenter was like, “I didn’t get to play on the first one! I wasn’t in the band! I want to do it!” He was pretty excited about the concept, and Chuck Morris, our manager at the time, brought it up a bunch. But we waited a while, and by the time it came out, it was 17 years between the releases.

When did you decide to move forward with it?

We were on tour with the Johnny Cash show, which included the Carter Family, and we were in Europe. I think it was in 1988 in Switzerland. June came into our dressing room — and she would visit us a lot. She was really sweet and she loved to talk about Mother Maybelle, and how much she loved us. She called us “them dirty boys.” I love that. And at the end of the conversation, she said, “You know, if you all ever thought about doing another Circle record, John and I would really love to take part in it.”

That was the tipping point. If you have that sort of endorsement from folks we idolized, and who were so important in the history of this music – and music in general — we thought, “Well, there you go.” That’s what we did. The winter of ’88, we started making calls.

How did you come up with the guest list, so to speak, for this one?

Our approach was to delve more into the next generation of folks, like New Grass Revival, and certainly a lot of our singer-songwriter buddies, like Bruce Hornsby, John Hiatt, Rosanne Cash, and John Prine. We had only recorded a little bit with Emmylou Harris and we really wanted to work with her. And we were really excited to do a record with Levon Helm. That was one of the highlights.

I think the collaborative spirit of this album really shines through when Bruce Hornsby is playing “Valley Road” with you guys.

I’d never met Bruce Hornsby but I was a huge fan of his music. I heard “Every Little Kiss” on the radio and it just blew me away. But then I’m reading an article in a magazine, and it was a “desert island disc” thing, talking about the records that you’ve gotta have, and he mentioned Will the Circle Be Unbroken. It was like, WOW! So I somehow got his phone number, I called him up — cold-called him — and he said, “Oh yeah, man, I love that record, I love you guys.” I said, “You’ve seen us play?” He said, “Yeah, my brother and I sneaked in.” We were playing a college show in his hometown, and those guys started carrying amps into the venue. We were unloading the truck and they started carrying gear in, and ended up sort of hiding behind the bleachers, and when the show started, came out and watched the show.

We hit it off right away, so there’s a direct line to Circle 1 right there. And when we were putting together our core band for the sessions, of course we included our buddy Randy Scruggs (who was on the first Circle album), Roy Huskey Jr. (whose dad Junior Huskey played on the first album), Jerry Douglas, Mark O’Connor… It was so much fun walking in and making music with those guys every day. Chet Atkins is on a track and played one of my guitars, which I liked. I know I’m never selling that guitar.

One of the coolest tracks on there is “You Ain’t Goin’ Nowhere.” How did that come about?

We brought in Roger McGuinn and Chris Hillman, because the Byrds and the Flying Burrito Brothers were so important to us. The Byrds had done Dylan’s “You Ain’t Goin’ Nowhere,” but they wouldn’t play it on country radio, so we cut a version of “You Ain’t Goin’ Nowhere” with Roger and Chris, and it became a Top 10 country single, which we thought was cool redemption. We were really excited about being on the track with them. We still play that tune now and again. That’s one of our favorites. We’re really happy to have a good excuse to play it, because for years we played it in sound checks anyway.

It’s been 30 years now, but what do you remember about how Circle 2 was received upon release?

Perhaps because we had the platform of being a hit country band right about then, the label promoted the heck out of the record when it initially came out. And it had hits on it, that’s the other thing. Circle 1 didn’t really have any radio impact, whereas Circle 2 had “You Ain’t Goin’ Nowhere,” and we had a song called “When It’s Gone” that was a Top 10 single.

It’s a significant record and it’s funny, having been there from the get-go with this band, and having that first Circle record so deeply ingrained in my DNA, I sometimes forget how important Circle 2 was to a lot of folks. I’ve had more than one songwriter and musician tell me, “That’s what got me into you guys.”


 

MIXTAPE: Wild Ponies’ Favorite Duos

Ah, the mixtape. Playlists. Songs. BGS asked us to do a mixtape and we decided it would be fun to ‘mix’ it up with a bunch of our favorite duos. A lot of them we just pulled off of our Wild Ponies Friends and Neighbors playlist. The hard part was narrowing it down. We threw in a few ringers who aren’t really our friends or neighbors — but we wish they were. There are so many ways to present music. We love a great big band, a power trio, a solitary soul with an acoustic guitar…

But there’s really something special about two voices working together, spiraling into that rare space that makes the whole room levitate. There’s a push and twist. If you’re at a show you can see it in the performers’ eyes when it locks in and happens. But if you can’t be at the show the next best thing is to close your eyes and just listen to the music. If you sit real still you might even be able to levitate at home, just a little. It’s worth a try. — Doug and Telisha Williams, Wild Ponies

Stacey Earle and Mark Stuart – “Next Door Down”

Oh, y’all, where do we even start with Stacey and Mark? We would not be making the mixtape or probably even be in Nashville without the support and love of these two. We picked “Next Door Down” from Simple Girl, because it was this release that began our love affair with Stacey and Mark. I’m pretty sure we can still play each and every song on that record!

Gillian Welch & David Rawlings – “Annabelle”

Well, our first dog was named Annabelle, after this song. That’s just how much we love Gillian, Dave, and this record.

Buddy & Julie Miller – “Keep Your Distance”

We’re so excited about Buddy and Julie’s new record, but we reached back in time a little on this one. When I listen to this song (by Richard Thompson?), Buddy and Julie’s influence on Wild Ponies’ sound is so evident.

Porter Wagoner and Dolly Parton – “Put It Off Until Tomorrow”

Oh, Porter and Dolly, one of the original duos. Each of them is such a talent, but together, there is magic — a third, indescribable element that elevates the song,

John Prine and Iris Dement – “In Spite of Ourselves”

Come on, John Prine AND Iris Dement. Our love for both of these superstars runs deep, but the blend of their quirky authenticity is stunning.

The Louvin Brothers – “My Baby’s Gone”

There’s nothing like family harmony. We were lucky enough to get to know Charlie Louvin later in his life, and the stories he shared about singing with his brother were slightly terrifying and beautiful. All the years after Ira’s death, Charlie could still hear Ira’s voice and his part every time he sang. The way that they could seamlessly switch parts and cross each other’s lines is something that maybe only those that share blood can accomplish.

Wild Ponies – “Hearts and Bones”

Singing this song live each night has become a favorite spot in our set. There’s something in the intimacy of our vocals — even just the “ooohs.” It almost feels like we’re sharing something that the audience shouldn’t be allowed to see.

Robby Hecht and Caroline Spence – “A Night Together”

Robby and Caroline are both amazing singers and songwriters. Two of our favorites in Nashville, right now. This duet record is absolutely stunning. I hope there’s another coming.

Conway Twitty and Loretta Lynn – “Easy Loving”

This song was released before I was born, but feels like the soundtrack to my childhood. I think I can even smell the chicken casserole cooking in the oven.

The Everly Brothers – “All I Have to Do Is Dream”

This is what every duo wants to sound like. Period. Anyone who tells you different is either lying or they’ve never actually heard this track.

Freddy and Francine – “Half a Mind”

I’m so happy that Lee and Bianca (aka Freddy and Francine) are in Nashville now. Their show and sound is amazing! Don’t those tight, powerful harmonies make you want to move?!

The Sea The Sea – “Love We Are We Love”

I challenge you to pick out who is singing what part with these two. Chuck and Mira’s voices blend so beautifully together, that it’s easy for me to get lost somewhere in the space between.

The White Stripes – “In the Cold, Cold Night”

Bad. Ass. The White Stripes make me want to break all the rules. This is such a cool track, because it’s mostly just Meg’s voice and Jack’s guitar. I guess not technically a duet, but it still feels like one. So intimate and creepy.

Anana Kaye – “Blueberry Fireworks”

Anana and Irakli are just weird and cool. Their writing is so big and theatrical. I love what they do. You should really go see them live — you can’t look away. They’re so good.

Waylon Jennings & Willie Nelson – “Pick up the Tempo”

Similar to the Conway and Loretta tune, this sounds like my childhood, only this time the smell is my daddy’s truck instead of chicken casserole.


Photo credit: Rob Hanning

Ian Noe Finds Carnage and Compassion in ‘Between the Country’

Folk rocker Ian Noe captures both beauty and ugliness on his debut album, Between the Country, populating his isolated Eastern Kentucky home with vivid portraits of human carnage.

Heavily influenced by John Prine, the 29-year-old writes with insight and deep compassion for what some might describe as the dregs of society. Meth-addled junkies, alcoholic drifters, and the gangs that prey on them dominate his songs, but he says shock and awe has never been his real goal. Instead, it’s to write songs reflecting the hardscrabble truth of his hometown. It’s a great place to grow up, he explains, but there’s no denying the dark reality which lurks down almost every holler.

“I guess it’s just the environment and the stuff you see growing up in Eastern Kentucky,” Noe says of his inspiration. “There’s a vibe to it. I hate to be so vague, but there’s a definite vibe.”

Noe has articulated that vibe so well he was invited to serenade Prine during a pre-Grammy Awards tribute at Los Angeles’ iconic Troubadour in February, and this summer he’ll open a series of shows for the legend in Europe. But for now he’s touring the U.S. with a batch of tunes that make traditional murder ballads sound like lullabies.

Noe spoke with The Bluegrass Situation about his admiration for Prine’s work and how it led to Between the Country, as well as his connection to the doomed souls of his songs and producer Dave Cobb’s help in creating a full-band sound.

BGS: Your vocal and the literary quality of the lyrics remind me of John Prine, which I’m sure you get a lot. How big of an influence was he on you?

Noe: Oh, he was huge. I would have to say he’s definitely the biggest influence for me. I started out wanting to be Chuck Berry on guitar, but it didn’t take me long to realize I wasn’t Chuck Berry. [Laughs] Then I heard John Prine through my dad, who would play his songs all the time in between Merle Haggard and Neil Young. But when he went to Prine songs, they would stick out … and I was just obsessed ever since.

What was it that stuck out about Prine?

He can just take simple things and make them profound. He’s the best at that. He can look at a sidewalk and write a song about it, make you laugh and think at the same time.

You’ve done something similar with Between the Country, but there’s a lot of dark themes – songs about substance abuse and self-destructive behavior. Why are those topics given so much prominence in your own writing?

I imagine it would have to be all the stories and people I know, as well as people I didn’t know but heard stories about. Just stuff that you hear happening in a town of six or seven thousand. Lee County is not that big, and it’s a cliché, but you hear everything that goes on in a small town.

Were you exposed to that stuff personally?

Not really, to be honest. I never did go to a meth house or anything like that, or even see anybody using it. But it’s one of those not-really secrets. Everybody knows it’s around.

I think that’s interesting because you seem so good at getting into these characters’ skin. How do you make that happen without first-hand knowledge?

I just think about them. Just think about it and picture in my head how it might be to live that way. It starts with a melody. I like to get the melody going in my head and if it’s a good one, try to see what’s going on with it.

I guess what I’m getting at is even though there’s bad stuff going on, it never seems like you’re judging anyone, or the area, for it.

Yeah, I tried to be real careful not to do that or come off as holier than thou. “Meth Head” is harsh, but I just wanted to be as extreme as I could be because it’s such an extreme drug, you know?

Tell me about coming up with that song. It’s really specific, I mean the imagery of this guy hunting for scrap metal and the woman covered in sores is chilling.

That song used to be about a war hero who was coming home, or at least the melody did anyway. I thought I was wasting the melody because I had already written some songs about battlefields and stuff like that, so I scrapped all of that and started again with the melody. I came up with that first verse pretty quick and just kept going.

How did you get so vivid with it?

It just comes with there being an actual junkyard in Lee County and thinking about the sound of the junkyard, thinking about the rest area that’s down the road and all the smells and sounds, things like that, just trying to get as descriptive as I could be.

Tell me about the title track. What does that phrase, “Between the Country,” mean to you?

Just being in the country, and everything that’s going on in between it. In between this hill or mountain, or what’s going on up in this holler, that’s what it means.

Why did you decide on that for the title track?

My grandmother used to say stuff like “If you treat your parents well, your days will be long on this earth,” which I’m not saying right but it’s from the Bible. She used to say stuff like that all the time, and I got to thinking about it, like “On down between the country, where deer lay along the road / On down between the country, where a long life’s a blessed one, I’m told.” It was like some people don’t make it past 40, you know? And that’s everywhere, it’s not just in a small town. But I didn’t grow up everywhere. I grew up in Lee County.

“Irene (Raving Bomb)” is about an alcoholic who’s not hiding it so well, even though she seems to think she is. How hard is it for you to find compassion for a character like that?

Not hard at all. We’ve all had our issues with this or that or the other, and I grew up seeing a lot of things like that. It wasn’t hard to have compassion for somebody whose disposition turns them to something like that.

How about “Letter to Madeline”? It’s about this guy who’s on the run and he’s carrying a letter he never mailed. What’s his backstory?

I was and still am a big fan of [the FX series] Justified, and I think it’s season two or three where there’s a story arc about the Detroit Mafia. I wanted to make it sound as if it was older. “A Detroit general” just meant a Detroit Mafia boss, and then his company just refers to his gang. It just came from that and people like D.B. Cooper — thinking about somebody robbing this guy and him trying to make it back to Kentucky.

Tell me a little about the sound here. It’s got this mix of folk rock and even a touch of ‘70s psychedelia at times. I know you’ve mostly worked solo in the past but teamed up with Dave Cobb for the album. Did he have a big impact?

It was pretty natural and easy. We were going back and putting in some of the electric lead you hear on “Dead on the River,” and he had bought a specific amp from Carter Vintage [Guitars in Nashville] the day we were mixing and overdubbing, and I believe he said he’d been listening to The Byrds that week. It was off the cuff, but the tone fit the themes, if that makes sense. … I like that there’s not a whole lot of crazy guitar solos, but every one of them suits the song. We don’t have congas or whatever, and it just has enough to breathe. Anything we overdubbed didn’t get in the way of any of the stories.

What do you hope people will take away from this first record?

Like everybody always says, when you make an album you just want people to appreciate it as much as you appreciate it. You want them to listen from track one all the way to the last track, and not everybody does that, which is all right. But the subject matter is all a common theme through the whole thing, and the cohesiveness is important. That’s what I love about all my favorite albums.


Photo credit: Kyler Clark