Tag: Johnny Cash

10 Old Sweet Songs That Keep Ray Charles on Our Mind

Posted on by Editor

The musical and cultural impact of Ray Charles is extraordinary and spans the pantheon of American popular music. He was an outstanding multi-instrumentalist (though best known for piano and alto sax), vocalist, bandleader, songwriter and composer in the non-lyrical sense. His innovations include helping craft and popularize the secularization of gospel music, now otherwise known as soul, and bringing new attention and expanded audiences to country music, which was the earliest idiom he loved and played before blues, jazz, R&B, or soul.

Though his earliest material was heavily influenced by Charles Brown and Nat “King” Cole, Charles (full name Ray Charles Robinson) quickly developed a highly stylized, immediately recognizable singing and playing approach. He became an expressive, evocative vocalist, one of the finest interpretative singers of all time, and a skilled improviser as an instrumentalist, able to deliver intense and memorable melodic statements or energetic solos while heading either small combos or large bands.

Charles is remembered as a trailblazer on the music business side as well, signing a contract in the early ’60s that gave him creative control over his sessions, something that allowed him to record in genres that many felt Black artists should avoid. The extensive list of Ray Charles’ achievements include 18 Grammy Awards, the Kennedy Center Honors, the National Medal of Arts and the Polar Music Prize, as well as a Lifetime Grammy Achievement Award and 10 recordings inducted into the Grammy Hall of Fame. Among the 2021 inductees into the Country Music Hall of Fame, Ray Charles is finally earning his place in the Veterans Era category.

The Ray Charles Foundation released the new box set, True Genius – The Ultimate Ray Charles Collection (Tangerine), in September, roughly two weeks before what would be Charles’ 91st birthday. The six-disc, 90-song collection is unquestionably the most comprehensive sampler available of his music from 1960 until his passing in 2004. It combines vintage, familiar hits with many previously unissued gems, most notably a 1972 Stockholm concert that’s not available other than through purchase of the set. There’s also a wonderful coffee table book with rare photos and comprehensive liner notes from Ray Charles Foundation President Valerie Ervin and music journalist A. Scott Galloway. A special message from Quincy Jones concludes what’s obviously an essential collection for any serious music fan.

Here are our 10 choices for selections from the set, although if we chose these tomorrow we might easily pick another 10. Ironically, none are Charles compositions, though that wasn’t the intention, and we could certainly go back through and do a separate listing of Charles’ pieces. However I would argue none of those, even some that I’ve loved my entire life, top these 10 renditions of other songwriters’ works.

“Georgia On My Mind”

The official anthem of the Peach State, it was co-written by Stuart Gorrell and Hoagy Carmichael, and was Charles’ first post-Atlantic hit for ABC-Paramount in 1960. It also marked his first collaboration with Sid Feller, who not only produced and arranged, but conducted the recording. Besides being a huge hit, it earned Charles plenty of recognition outside R&B and soul circles while garnering four Grammy Awards.

“Hit The Road Jack”

Percy Mayfield had many immortal R&B hits, but not that many folks are aware he wrote “Hit The Road Jack.” Mayfield even sent it to Art Rupe as an a cappella demo, but Charles transformed it in much the same way Aretha Franklin did Otis Redding’s “Respect.” The song is spiced by the interaction of and exchanges with Margie Hendrix, and it soared to the top of the Billboard pop and R&B charts in 1961, though it had more staying power on the R&B side. It topped that chart for five weeks, and ultimately won a Grammy for Best Rhythm and Blues Recording.

“I Can’t Stop Loving You”

Don Gibson’s original recording from 1957 is tremendous, but Charles’ 1962 rendition introduced a host of listeners who weren’t regular country fans to the song’s lyrical and musical potency, It was also the tune that turned Modern Sounds in Country and Western Music into a powerhouse anthem. The song remained atop the Billboard pop charts for five weeks. When John Belushi did a straight-up masterful imitation of Charles’ singing that tune on Saturday Night Live years later, it cemented how much it resonated in the lives of ’60s music fans.

“You Don’t Know Me”

While Eddy Arnold did a wonderful version of Cindy Walker’s “You Don’t Know Me” in 1955, Charles enjoyed another huge crossover hit off the Modern Sounds LP in 1962. That one didn’t make it to the top as it peaked at No. 2. It also didn’t enjoy as much acclaim or praise, but it’s every bit as magnificent in terms of performance.

“Busted”

Harlan Howard saw his 1962 gem become a hit in two different, yet related styles. Johnny Cash had a country hit, then Ray Charles did a fabulous soul version that earned him the 1963 Grammy Award for Best Rhythm and Blues Recording. Interestingly, the Cash and Charles versions vocally aren’t that far apart, though the arrangements and overall performances reflect the different production approaches.

“Crying Time”

Buck Owens’ original was the B-side of his bigger single, “I’ve Got a Tiger by the Tail,” in 1964. The Ray Charles version two years later proved a much bigger hit, though not a pop chart smash in the manner of some past Charles country covers. It did earn a pair of Grammy awards, plus enjoyed Top 10 pop and R&B success. It was even a number one hit on, of all things, the Easy Listening chart. Charles would later join Barbra Streisand in a duet rendition on a 1973 TV special that wasn’t quite as memorable as the ’66 single.

“Let’s Go Get Stoned”

This song was recorded first by the Coasters in 1965, and later by Ronnie Milsap as the B-side to the single “Never Had It So Good” that same year. But the Charles version, powered by his dynamic lead vocals, soared to number one in 1966. The song actually had an ironic feel for Charles, who recorded it shortly after getting out of rehab, where he kicked a 16-year heroin addiction. This was among the earliest hits for the famed husband/wife songwriting and performing duo Nickolas Ashford and Valerie Simpson, joined on it by Josephine Armstead.

“Living for the City”

The very first album a young, fledgling artist named Stevie Wonder recorded was A Tribute to Uncle Ray in 1962. Some 13 years later, Charles would repay the honor with this glittering cover of Wonder’s valiant hit from the Innervisions album. Charles would eventually win another Grammy for his rendition, though this wasn’t as big a hit on the contemporary R&B side.

“Seven Spanish Angels”

This tune co-written by Troy Seals and Eddie Setser proved a big duet hit for Charles and longtime friend and chess partner Willie Nelson. The song featured Charles doing the first verse, first and second choruses, with Nelson singing the second verse and joining Charles on the outro. Interestingly, this became the biggest country hit Charles ever enjoyed in terms of chart position, as it spent one week at number one and remained on the charts for 12 weeks. It was initially released on Charles’ 1984 LP Friendship, and then again on Nelson’s 1985 compilation release, Half Nelson.

“I Can See Clearly Now”

This is famous more for when it was performed than the fact it was one of the few reggae tunes Ray Charles ever covered. The Johnny Nash original was the first reggae song to top the American charts in 1972, but Charles gave it new fame when he performed it as the musical guest on Saturday Night Live in 1977.

Photo Credit: Norman Seef

Better Late Than Never, David “Ferg” Ferguson Debuts ‘Nashville No More’

Posted on by Editor

As the go-to producer for some of Nashville’s most enigmatic roots talents, David Ferguson is what you’d call a behind-the-board legend. The studio savant known simply as “Ferg” started out as a protégé of producer and eccentric tape-splicer Cowboy Jack Clement and went on to become Johnny Cash’s favored engineer during his late-career resurgence. More recently, Ferguson has been imparting his old-school wisdom on tastemakers like Sturgill Simpson and Margo Price, while on his own debut album Nashville No More, he puts decades of knowledge to work once more.

With 10 songs full of classic charm and creative whimsy, it’s a loose-feeling project of tunes Ferg’s been falling in love with (and recording for himself) for years, molded into an album during the pandemic doldrums. A rotating cast of Nashville A-listers like Kenny Vaughan, Sierra Hull, Justin Moses, Jerry Douglas, Stuart Duncan, Béla Fleck and Tim O’Brien helped him flesh it out, presenting gruff vocals with tender, honest reverence for the lost art of record-making. In the end, it sounds like a love letter to his life’s work – and maybe the last hurrah of a creative culture.

BGS: So we’ll start with obvious question: Why did you want to make your own record, after so many years of helping others make theirs?

David Ferguson: Well, I’ve really always been a musician at heart. But this one fell into my lap over the pandemic. I had to shut down my studio, the Butcher Shoppe, in Nashville because they sold the buildings. So I set up a control room and an overdub room at my house, then the pandemic came along and there wasn’t much work. I started digging around in my recordings from over the years, got ‘em out and started seeing what I could do. That’s kind of how it came together. I really was just putting it together for family. Like, I was just gonna give it to my mom.

That’s interesting, because I think some people might assume you’ve been wanting to do this your whole life, but it sounds more spur of the moment.

Yeah, it’s a little late in life for me to be launching a solo career. [Laughs] But it’s fun to have one coming out and I’ve got a lot of time on my hands.

It might be late to get started, but you’ve had good teachers. Working with people like Cowboy Jack and Johnny Cash, and more recently Sturgill and Margo, what have you learned about being an artist?

To try to be humble. Even doing interviews, it’s hard to talk about yourself. Somebody who enjoys sitting and talking about themselves, there’s something a little bit wrong with them. I think being humble is a great lesson. Johnny Cash was a very humble man, very humble. So I think that — and trying to be kind to people. And don’t take it for granted, because even if something does happen, it may never happen again. You gotta appreciate what you’ve got.

The people you’ve been known for working with, they’re all artists of very strong vision – ones who didn’t compromise their art. Why are you drawn to people like that?

That’s a good question. I don’t know that I am particularly drawn there, maybe it’s just kind of the way it happened. Stuff comes your way and you have to grab the opportunity if it comes. You’ve gotta be ready to make a fool of yourself if you have to, and learn to grow from mistakes. I made a whole lot of records on a whole lot of people that weren’t any good – tons of them! Not everything you’re gonna do is good. But you do your best for the amount of time or money you have.

I always tried to do my very best. I was a fast engineer and got it going quick, because I didn’t want to waste people’s money. It’s hard to come by, and to get to make a record in a studio is a special thing. It used to be a really special thing. Now anybody can make a record. You can make one in your own house. But back in the day when I started, being able to have the money and resources to go in and record an album was a big deal. I still look at it as a big deal.

I think that comes through on your record.

Thank you, man, I tried not to cut any corners. I could have, and used keyboard strings, things like that. But I had real ones. I tried to do it as real as I could do it.

Did you record this the way you would have back in the day?

Yeah. Everybody’s recording on the Pro Tools format, but I can still fire up a tape machine, I’m not afraid of it. It’s just not economically feasible anymore. And plus, people don’t realize, they always used to say, ‘Oh, tape machines sounded great.’ And it’s true. They did and they still do, but you still wind up with a 16-bit CD. Unless you’re listening to it off the tape machine or on a vinyl record, or some super high resolution format, it’s just not gonna make very much difference.

Tell me about the title you chose. You’re from Nashville and have seen how it’s changed. How did you end up with the title Nashville No More? The whole thing has a kind of weary feel to it.

[Laughs] You know it’s not really a bummer. A lot of them are actually love songs. Like “Chardonnay” is a love song to wine. And then “Looking for Rainbows,” it’s kind of a sad song about love. … Nashville No More means a lot to me, because the Nashville that I used to know is no more. I’m not saying that’s a bad thing, it’s just that things evolve, and Nashville has really evolved. The music has evolved into an unlistenable thing to me. Modern country music, to me, is really difficult to listen to. Top 10 radio, it’s not for me. And I know some of those people who are on those channels, those singers, and I really like ‘em. I’m not saying anything bad about their music or anything … I’m really happy for their success, but it’s not the kind of stuff I’m gonna listen to.

Margo Price is featured on “Chardonnay,” and that has such a lovely sway to it. Where did that track come from?

That was written by my friend Roger Cook, and some years ago I made a demo of him doing the song, and I found it like ‘Jeez, where has this song been? I love this!’ … I finished it up with some real players on it, re-sung a couple of lines here and there and then sent it to Margo, and she said, ‘God, I love that song so much.’ She graciously came over and hung out for the afternoon and sung on that and “Looking for Rainbows.” Margo’s a real sweetheart and she doesn’t live far from me. The other person on there is Harry Stinson. He sings harmony, too, and Harry is in the Fabulous Superlatives. Harry’s singing on “Four Strong Winds,” too. He can blend right in there.

I love that you start off with “Four Strong Winds,” which is such a tender song. The first thing you hear is this gentle piano and a loping drum beat. Why start with that sound?

The album was totally sequenced … and it started off just exactly the opposite of what it is now. It started off with number six being number one, and we swapped the A side and B side.

Really?

That’s an old record trick I learned from Jack Clement and Johnny Cash.

What’s the benefit there?

It just kind of takes the obvious away, and that’s good. I’ve done that on more than one record for the years, and I’ve seen Jack Clement do it a few times. It’s a strange thing, but I mentioned to the guys, “Jack used to sequence it out A and B, then a couple of days later he’d be like, ‘You know, B oughta be A, I think.'” And it works!

You end on “Hard Times Come Again No More.” What’s the message in that ending?

Like I said before, that would have been number five, and we swapped it around. But it just seemed like a natural song to go out with. Sierra and Justin were kind enough to show up on that, and I think she’s just a major talent. Probably one of the most talented people I’ve ever met. She’s got the touch, and she’s not one to nitpick stuff. If you say you’re happy, she says, “OK, let’s move on.” She won’t just wear you out with it.

What was it like trying to produce your own songs, though? Is it hard to be critical of yourself?

It’s nearly impossible. Anybody you talk to who sings or even talks for a living, there’s hardly anything more painful than listening to yourself back. It’s as painful to a singer and artist as it is to anybody — unless they have an ego the size of [spreads his arms wide]. But you get in a situation where you have to be critical, so I learned how to do it on this record. I figured it out.

Photo credit: Scott Simontacchi

BGS 5+5: Brad Kolodner

Posted on by Editor

Artist: Brad Kolodner
Hometown: Baltimore, Maryland
Latest Album: Chimney Swifts
Personal nicknames: B-rad, Dadley, BK

Which artist has influenced you the most … and how?

My father Ken, hands down. As long as I can remember, my father’s music has been the soundtrack of my life. To be fair, I didn’t have much choice in the matter. The living room in our house was filled with the sounds of his hammered dulcimer and fiddle playing (along with the scores of students who banged away on their dulcimers and scratched out tunes on fiddle). I’d be lying if I said my sister and I always loved the ruckus. In all seriousness, the music must’ve been seeping in all those years. When I finally picked up the banjo as a teen, old-time music clicked and it felt right.

My father quickly became a musical mentor and eventually a bandmate and musical peer. His experience playing a multitude of traditional folk music styles through his years with his band Helicon has informed how I approach music with a creative, open mind while respecting the traditional roots of the music. His musicality and sense of dynamics are captivating. He really feels every note and it’s something I strive for in my playing. While piecing together material for my new solo album Chimney Swifts, it was a natural choice to include my father on the project as I wanted to highlight both the groovy and mellow sides of his playing. It’s always a joy to make music with him and I’ll treasure that feeling as long as I can.

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

Singing “I’ve Been Everywhere” for the student talent show at the Meadowlark music camp in Maine back in 2007 was a catalyst for my love of being on stage sharing music. I had just wrapped up my very first week learning the basics of clawhammer banjo in a workshop with Richie Stearns, who ultimately became a banjo hero of mine. I could only play a very clumsy “bum-ditty” so I wasn’t quite ready to show off my newfound love of the banjo. However, I was eager to share the one song I had memorized in my life up to that point for the student talent show.

Years earlier, I spent weeks memorizing all the places in “I’ve Been Everywhere,” which caught my ear when I heard Johnny Cash’s version in a commercial. Suffice to say, I didn’t do too well in school for those few weeks. With my tail between my legs, I hopped up on stage and sang the song. As a relatively shy kid at that point in my life, I emerged from my shell after belting out each verse with the crowd roaring along the way. I can’t say I knew I wanted to be musician at that moment but it’s certainly the first time I tasted that high performers can get on stage in front of an electric audience. There’s actually a home video of that original performance.

What’s your favorite memory from being on stage?

I’ve been fortunate to have some incredible experiences performing with my father Ken at venues like the Kennedy Center, Winfield, and Clifftop and with Charm City Junction at Grey Fox, IBMA, and the Charm City Bluegrass Festival. However, there is one night that really jumps out: the opening concert at our inaugural Baltimore Old Time Music Festival in 2019. After moving back to my hometown in my early 20s around 2012, I made it my mission to reboot the local old-time music community. I cofounded our biweekly old-time jam with my dad, started the Baltimore Square Dance with some pals, and hosted a monthly house concert series with the long term goal of putting together an old-time music festival someday. Well, that dream became a reality in 2019 when I, with Baltimore Old Time Music Festival in partnership with the Creative Alliance, cofounded an arts organization here in town. I’ll always treasure the memory of standing on stage during the kickoff concert in a packed concert hall rocking out during the encore playing “Tennessee Mountain Fox Chase” with the biggest smile on my face. This year, we’re hoping to have our “2nd” Annual Baltimore Old Time Music Festival in mid-November.

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

There’s really nothing more nourishing or magical than the time I’ve spent deep in the dense woods on top of a mountain in Clifftop, West Virginia, at the Appalachian String Band Festival. As an artist, I spend much of my time making music in the context of my work — playing a show, teaching lessons, leading a local jam, etc. While I’m deeply grateful for this lifestyle, I need those soul-nourishing experiences in which I play music simply to play music. Clifftop provides that space. It’s a gathering of thousands of old-time musicians who huddle under soggy EZ-ups ’til the wee hours playing fiddle tunes. The natural beauty of the setting adds to that magic.

There’s something about the shared experience trudging through the mud, square dancing in a dusty dirt road, and watching the sunrise with your buds grooving out on fiddles tunes that can’t be matched anywhere else. I can’t tell you how many times I’ve gotten lost meandering through the woods with sounds of far-off old-time jams swirling around the forest. There’s a hike next to the campground that weaves through a rhododendron grove amidst rock formations atop a ridge before descending to a little mountain stream. It’s the quintessential West Virginia swimming hole and it’s a hike I look forward to every year. Most of all, I’ve made some dear pals at Clifftop who have become my closest musical collaborators including Alex Lacquement and Rachel Eddy who are featured on my latest album, Chimney Swifts. While the music is what draws me in, it’s the people who keep me coming back year after year.

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

Well, since you asked… Before I played music, I was (and still am, sadly) a diehard Baltimore Orioles fan. The earliest musical memory I have, besides listening to my father’s music, is seeing John Denver hop up on top of the Baltimore Orioles dugout during the seventh inning stretch to sing “Thank God I’m a Country Boy” back in 1997 just a couple weeks before he tragically passed away in a plane crash. After that performance, my parents gifted me some John Denver CDs and I listened to them more than anything else as a kid — really. I would fall asleep to his albums on repeat and my parents would have to come in and turn them off after I dozed off. So, it would be my dream to sit with John Denver at an Orioles ballgame on a warm summer night while eating a Boog’s BBQ sandwich and drinking a Natty Boh beer (a classic Baltimore combo). Oh, and an Orioles win would be nice, but I don’t want to ask for anything unrealistic…

Photo credit: Joanna Tillman

Guided by Acoustic Demos, Paul Thorn’s New Album Finds Magic in Memphis

Posted on by Editor

For years, you could always count on a Paul Thorn record for songs about insatiable lust and desire. That’s still true on his newest release, It’s Never Too Late to Call, although that carnal urgency has been overtaken by… yes, actual love. The long-awaited album isn’t exactly sentimental, as “What I Could Do” details the ways his life would be more productive without still being in love with somebody. There’s also “Goodbye Is the Last Word,” an aching slow song that basically offers advice on how to leave a relationship that’s turned toxic. Even the duet with his wife, Heather, is titled “Breaking Up for Good Again.”

Still, on the boisterous “Here We Go,” he sings, “I feel good about what the future holds.” As he should.

“I like to think I’ve just matured a little bit,” Thorn tells BGS. “I’m 57 years old and the way I looked at things 10 years ago ain’t the way I look at them now. If you’re still the same person you were 10 years ago, you wasted 10 years.”

On It’s Never Too Late to Call, there’s not a minute wasted. Thorn can still crank up that R&B groove that’s made him a must-see artist for decades. Meanwhile, “Sapphire Dream” – a duet with his daughter Kitty Jones — stands among his most evocative performances on any of his records. Here, the Mississippi musician tells BGS about how the acoustic guitar shaped these sessions, the bluegrass bands he admires, and what “Sapalo” really means.

BGS: Why was it appealing for you to make this album in Memphis?

Thorn: Sam Phillips Recording Studio in Memphis has a lot of vintage equipment and recording technology that kinda doesn’t exist anymore. The way that Elvis Presley’s records sounded, and the way that Johnny Cash’s records sounded, and many other great artists sounded — in addition to their talent, it was the way they were recorded and the sound that they caught from that studio.

And it’s not Sun Studios. Let me clarify that – Sam Phillips didn’t own Sun. He rented it, but then when he got successful he built another studio two blocks down called Sam Phillips Recording Studio. That’s the studio I’m talking about. A lot of magic was created in there for a lot of reasons. It’s an hour from where I live, so why not?

Did you have an idea of how you wanted this record to sound before you went in?

I really did, yeah. The producer of this record is Matt Ross-Spang. He’s a Grammy Award winner. He’s very good. I was sending him iPhone demos of me just singing with my acoustic guitar on all these songs. We both decided, after talking a few times, that this record should be built around those acoustic demos. I play rhythm guitar on every song, which is something that I used to not do. I used to not play on my records at all. I would just sing it once with my acoustic guitar and the band would play it.

Although that sounds good and it has its place, I think what we captured on this record more defines what I actually sound like and what I do best. It’s a lot more stripped down and it’s not like a jammy record. There are very few solos on any instrument. This record is all about showcasing the songs. I haven’t put a record out of original material in six years and there are a lot of reasons for that, some good, some bad. But I feel like over those years, these songs that I did get are my best work ever. I really feel that way.

Are there any acoustic guitarists that you really look up to?

I know two people who, in my opinion, are the greatest acoustic guitar players. One is Mac McAnally and the other one is Tommy Emmanuel. They’re not only great guitar players but I’m friends with both of them and I know them personally. They’re the monsters! And I mean that as a compliment. I’m not really a great guitar player but I do a thing that’s unique to me. Tommy and Mac, they can sit down and play with anybody. I can play good with myself but I don’t know how to follow other people. These guys are on another planet, as far as guitar players.

Are you a bluegrass listener?

I grew up around two types of music as a child. My dad was a preacher so I grew up around black gospel music and white bluegrass gospel music. You know, there’s a group named Balsam Range who recorded a song I wrote called “Angel Too Soon.” They had a No. 1 on the bluegrass charts and it stayed there a long time. I’m clearly not a bluegrass artist, but I have had songs covered by a top bluegrass artist. So, I have that in me. And when it’s done right, I love it Another group that I’m a big fan of — and in my opinion they do it as good as anybody — is The Isaacs. They do bluegrass gospel and when I watch them, I’m looking at excellence.

On this record, you start out with a couple of mellow songs but then you hit that R&B groove on “Sapalo.” So, I have to ask, what does that title mean?

I was watching a video on YouTube of James Brown, and before I clicked on it, the description said “James Brown High on PCP.” The premise of the video is that he’d just gotten out of jail and he was being interviewed by a very straight-laced lady, a local news anchor. It was clear from the get-go that he was high on drugs while he was doing the interview. She said, “Mr. Brown, how are things now that you’re out of jail?” She said, “How do you feel now?” And he goes, “I feel good! I look good! I smell good! It’s all good! I make love good!” He was saying all this off-the-wall stuff. Then she said, “What are your upcoming plans?” And he said, “Well, I’m going to Brazil. I’m going to São Paulo!” He said, “We’re going to JAM!”

So I was just writing down all of this stuff he was saying, and the song wound up being a song about redemption. At least in that moment, he was claiming that he had put his life back together, which he was lying to himself because he was on TV high on PCP. But I tried to spin it as everyone needs a shot at redemption. It’s about being optimistic with whatever time you’ve got left.

Listening to “You Mess Around & Get a Buzz,” I caught that Clarksdale reference right off. I know that being from Mississippi is a big part of your story, and I’m curious if you ever feel like you’re an ambassador for the state.

Well, I would only say this because you brought it up but I guess I am in some way. When I use the word “ambassador,” to me that means somebody who goes abroad and tells other people about how good it is where he lives. So, in that way I guess I am. I was very flattered a few years ago when the state of Mississippi invited me down to the capitol and they declared March 27 as Paul Thorn Day. So, I got a day! You know, most times you gotta die before you get a day.

You’ve got the same hometown as Elvis. I’m wondering, if you could have pitched him any of the songs you’ve written, which one would you pick?

That’s a hard question, man. I tell you, I wrote a song called “That’s Life.” All the words in that song were words my mother has said throughout my life. I’ve played it a lot and people like the song. If I could get one song recorded by Elvis, it would probably be “That’s Life.”

Your fans often become characters in your songs, too. It happens on this album on “Sapalo” and “Holy Hottie Toddy.” You’ve cultivated one of the most loyal fan bases that I’ve seen. What are some of the things you’ve done right, to keep people invested in you and your career?

That’s a hard question but if I had to answer, I think to get down to the brass nuts of it, they know I love them. You can say that, but a lot of artists will do their show and they walk off the stage and they’re ready to get to the hotel room. I understand that. I feel that way sometimes myself, but at every show – prior to the pandemic – on the last song I always go out into the crowd. And while I’m singing I’m hugging people and shaking people’s hands. And when that’s done I go out in the front and sign CDs and take pictures. I’ll stand there until the last one’s gone.

I don’t do it as a career strategy. I do it because those people got off work, got a babysitter, took a shower, bought a ticket, and they’re going to spend their whole evening with me. And my job is to give them my whole evening. That’s what I try to do. I think that’s why they stay with me, and I think that’s why they’re loyal. They’re loyal to me because I’m loyal to them.

Photo credit: Steve Roberts

In This Unearthed 1968 Live Recording, Johnny Cash Sings “I’m Going to Memphis”

Posted on by Editor

New music from Johnny Cash is coming in September from a surprising source. Members of the Owsley Stanley Foundation have partnered with Renew Records and BMG to release a never-before-heard capture of a Johnny Cash concert in 1968. The upcoming release, titled Bear’s Sonic Journals: Johnny Cash At the Carousel Ballroom April 24 1968, was captured by in-house sound engineer Owsley “Bear” Stanley only days prior to the release of Cash’s legendary live record At Folsom Prison. That means the new album will provide another window through which we’ll be able to hear Johnny Cash, June Carter Cash, and the Tennessee Three (guitarist Luther Perkins, bassist Marshall Grant and drummer W.S. Holland) at their peak, performing songs that shaped an entire genre. John Carter Cash, the country stars’ son, describes it as “what I believe to be one of the most intimate and connected shows I have ever heard.”

Recorded in the heart of the counterculture movement of the ‘60s in San Francisco, the new collection is slated for a September 24 release on a CD/2 LP set. To promote the project (as if we needed anything more to be excited about), the Owsley Stanley Foundation and Renew/BMG have released “I’m Going to Memphis” from the concert, and it is absolutely brimming with Cash’s signature charisma and debonair delivery. So many of classic country’s textures line the recording: tick-tack electric guitar, train-beat shuffle, brash acoustic rhythm, and of course, rich, velvety vocals to round out the arrangement. It’s a snapshot of one of country music’s most fertile moments in history and we’ll be wearing this one out all summer in anticipation for the rest of the live album’s release.

Listen to the official audio and check out this feature from Rolling Stone about new music from Johnny Cash.

 

WATCH: Marty Stuart Shares the Johnny Cash Song He Dearly Loves

Posted on by Editor

Artist: Marty Stuart
Song: “I’ve Been Around”
Album: Forever Words (Expanded)

In Their Words: “I dearly love ‘I’ve Been Around.’ The song and video are both filled with that unexplainable charisma that John R Cash specialized in. He was such a great writer. A true poet at heart. It’s hard to believe that he never got around to recording this song. The words are cinematic, timeless, classic JR.

“When John Carter Cash first presented me with the raw lyrics the music seemed to dance off the page. I instantly heard the sound of Johnny Cash and the Tennessee Three in my mind. They were the north star band of my musical youth; in reality, they still are. They were my Beatles. I wanted the spirit of that group and the essence of that sound to follow me to that microphone. At the time the song was recorded the Tennessee Three’s drummer, W.S. ‘Fluke’ Holland, was the last band member standing. He played on the session and brought that classic sound with him to the studio. Fluke since passed away. ‘I’ve Been Around’ was to be his last recording and I will forever treasure it. The old line in Nashville is: It all begins with a song. And once again, Johnny Cash knocks one out of the park from 10 million miles away.” — Marty Stuart

Photo credit: Bill Thorup

The Show on the Road – Sarah Shook

Posted on by Shelby Williamson

This week on The Show On The Road, we catch up with acclaimed roots-rocker Sarah Shook. For most of the last decade, Shook has been making cut-to-the-bone country music of her own outlaw variety — first with her early band The Devil and now with her seasoned group of sensitive twang-rock shitkickers, The Disarmers.


LISTEN: APPLE PODCASTS • STITCHER • SPOTIFY • MP3

Homeschooled in deeply religious seclusion in upstate New York and North Carolina, Shook largely only heard classical composers growing up. As a loner, creative teenager trying to process her hidden bisexuality, she described hearing Elliott Smith and Belle & Sebastian as revelatory — finally someone felt like her and found a way to share it with the world. But it was after encountering the raw honesty in the songs of Johnny Cash that she found a purpose and a place for her achy-voiced folk songs.

With a little encouragement from her longtime lead guitarist, who saw how powerful her presence (and her songs) could be on stage, an openly reticent Shook took the leap and started playing professionally in 2013. She gained national attention with her stellar back-to-back albums Sidelong and Years, which caught the attention of famed alt-/outlaw country label Bloodshot Records (they signed her) and sent her on a relentless round of touring.

With confessional, lived-in songs like “Fuck Up” and “New Ways To Fail” Shook is a master of getting to the point, processing her tough transition to sobriety with grace, humor and wit. Much like her hero Johnny Cash, she suffers no fools when it comes to love and its tricky late-night detours. With her signature half-smile/half-grimace candor Shook sings about another love affair gone wrong: “I need this shit like I need another hole in my head.”

Stick around to the end of the episode to hear a live-from-home acoustic rendition of her deliciously twangy kiss-off, “Gold As Gold.”

Photo credit: Derek Ketchum

LISTEN: Victoria Bailey, “Tennessee”

Posted on by Editor

Artist: Victoria Bailey
Song: “Tennessee”
Album: Jesus, Red Wine & Patsy Cline
Release Date: September 18, 2020
Label: Rock Ridge Music

In Their Words: “I first heard Johnny Cash’s rendition of this Rick Scott song while driving through snowy Tennessee a few winters back. I was heading down toward Leiper’s Fork in my little rental car, stopping all along the road to pet horses and listening to all my favorite country legends along the way. This song really sums up how I feel about the South and Tennessee as a whole. I love the little pleasures in life that Tennesseeans hold near and dear: family traditions and small town simplicities.

“My favorite verse in the song is, ‘We got a cabin in the country / And a creek that rolls nearby / And a dog that won’t even bark at a firefly.’ That’s exactly what I saw all around me exploring Tennessee on that trip — just a lot of pure joy and friendly folks! Recording this song was SO much fun. My band fell in love with the lyrics as much as I did. We tried to stay pretty true to the sound of Cash’s recording, but we sprinkled a little bit of our own sound into it as well. It was such an honor recording this song, especially because it represents a state I have come to love oh so very much!” — Victoria Bailey

Photo credit: Stefanie Vinsel Johnson

BGS 5+5: Grant-Lee Phillips

Posted on by Editor

Artist: Grant-Lee Phillips
Hometown: Nashville, Tennessee
Latest album: Lightning, Show Us Your Stuff
Personal nicknames (or rejected band names): Pistol, Ranchero

Which artist has influenced you the most … and how?

Neil Young I suppose. His music hit me at just the right time. I had been playing guitar for two years when I first heard “Down by the River” and “Cortez the Killer.” I was 16. My ears were wide open. Young’s songs spoke to me like no other. He was also the first singer I saw in concert. All alone, with a rack of acoustic guitars, an upright piano on one side of the stage, a grand on the other, a pump organ. I was mesmerized.

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

My family loved music. Hee Haw was a big one. We never missed a show. My grandma loved Elvis and Johnny Cash. The excitement I felt when Roy Clark played “Orange Blossom Special” or “Foggy Mountain Breakdown” on the electric guitar, I wanted to feel that all the time. The TV show Austin City Limits introduced me to Lightning Hopkins, John Prine and Tom Waits. I recall those moments like yesterday.

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

The hardest prolonged period of song wrestling was back in the ‘90s after Grant Lee Buffalo had put out a few albums. The pressure was on to deliver. The question was, deliver what to whom? I did my best to put all that noise out of my head. You can go from dancing on a ledge like Buster Keaton one minute to vertigo the next. Thankfully I had come across the film director Andrei Tarkovsky’s defiant book Sculpting in Light and that became a temporary manifesto.

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

I paint a great deal these days. Landscapes and still life. It slows me down and demands another degree of focus. Composition involves strategic thinking but there’s a wild side to painting. I like that balance. It gives me insight to making music.

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

Tennessee is one of the greenest states in the country. I’m never so in tune with my own spirit as when I surrounded by elms and oaks. During this pandemic our family has made a point to take a drive every day. We drive through the country, roll down the windows and breathe some fresh air. One of my other rituals involves drawing. Every day I set aside 20-30 minutes to sketch. I have notebooks full of trees, landscapes in the works. Trees, clouds — that’s my sanctuary. Some of these images find their way into my lyrics, which is just another way of painting a picture.

Photo credit: Denise Siegel-Phillips

By Defending Her Own Happiness, Joy Oladokun’s Determination Pays Off

Posted on by Editor

It was far from a given that Joy Oladokun would settle on her present path as a singer-songwriter of pensive folk-pop. She absorbed an array of musical models earlier in life — those that culturally linked her family to their Nigerian roots; reflected the rural pride of her peers in agriculture-rich Arizona; united her evangelical congregation in upward-aimed worship; and offered various styles of self-expression, emotional catharsis or social critique.

But on her texturally varied second album, in defense of my own happiness (vol. 1), much of which she self-produced, she sketches the distance between where she stands, sorting out her sources of pain, anxiety, and pleasure, and what she’s chosen to leave behind. Throughout, she’s exploring knotty interiority with warm yet watchful vulnerability. Oladokun paused her daily songwriting schedule to talk with BGS about how she made her way here.

BGS: After your parents immigrated to the U.S., did they maintain an attachment to traditional or contemporary Nigerian music and share it with you?

My parents came here in the ‘80s, so the Nigerian music they listened to growing up is definitely still a part of their everyday life today. I think one of my first introductions to the guitar was this Nigerian artist named King Sunny Adé, just these crazy, cascading, arpeggiated guitar riffs. They’re not as in touch with contemporary Nigerian music, but Nigeria had a pretty rich and interesting musical history.

You’ve said in past interviews that you grew up in an Arizona farming town that prized folk and country music. What role did that music actually play in community life?

There is not a music scene to speak of in Casa Grande, Arizona, that is for sure. My high school was big into Future Farmers of America. Lots of big trucks and dairy farms, that vibe is the vibe of my town. Some of the country I wasn’t very interested in, but I had a short fascination with ‘90s country. I mean, Martina McBride, Alan Jackson, Brooks & Dunn, it’s a lot, but in a good way. Everyone around me was listening to ‘90s country.

And my dad, for some reason, has an affinity for country-gospel music. He has all these records of Johnny Cash or Charley Pride, all these different people singing old country-gospel standards. So there’s this dusty, Southwestern country sound that I also grew up around that I think is the country that I gravitate to now, more than the big trucks and farms.

Along with hearing King Sunny Adé’s playing, you’ve said that seeing concert footage of Tracy Chapman with acoustic guitar in hand really caught your attention. What was it about those moments that moved you to pick up the instrument yourself?

I was always a really shy and reserved kid, and pretty smart, but had a hard time focusing or applying myself for long amounts of time. I think what I found in myself when I saw the guitar and decided to learn, and what my family saw in me, was a determination that hadn’t been applied to anything else ever.

I just know that the gift of self-expression that it’s given me has been pretty lifesaving. King Sunny Adé and Tracy Chapman, those are two very different expressions of how to use the guitar and how to make music, but they both took the inner workings of themselves and the world around them, and they expressed it through the music they made. I think that’s pretty dope and especially appealing to a kid who has a hard time talking.

Since you were so shy, how did you wind up playing music in front of a congregation?

If you wanted to get me to do anything as a kid, convince me that it would make God happy, or if I didn’t do it, God would be upset. That’s a pretty good motivator to any kid, but especially for me. I think I was so driven because I was so enmeshed in Christian culture. I was driven by this narrative of, “You need to do something big with your life and you can’t just spectate. You have to participate.” I honestly think had I been a little atheist in middle school, or had language been different, I maybe wouldn’t have ever done it or stepped on a stage. But I think it was the, “I feel this duty to use my gift for something bigger than myself.”

What did it take for you to leave behind what you thought might be a lasting career path in praise & worship music?

I often laugh at how much my adult life parallels my mother’s. Growing up, she would always tell this story about how her dad really wanted her to be a teacher. She spent a year or so teaching school and freaking hated it. So she became a nurse and she still does that to this day. I think I honored the thing that is spiritual in myself by working at a church and by falling in line and doing the thing for as long as I did. When I realized, “OK, I’m queer. There’s no getting around that. And I maybe don’t believe these things politically or theologically that I sometimes said on a day-to-day basis.”

I just got to a place where it became more important for me to live a life of integrity on all fronts than to keep up appearances or do what I thought God or my parents or my old boss wanted me to do. When I left, I made the decision pretty much on my own. And in circles like that, that is a no-no. I think the reason I did step into it by myself, though, is because I have to live this life. I would rather pursue something that feels more authentic to me. And once that decision was made, then the career decision was easy. I honestly tie it back to hearing my mom every day since I was born tell the story of how she made that decision for herself.

These days you’re signed to the Nashville office of a publishing company, operating in a world with its own customs and practices when it comes to being creative and collaborative. How’d you adjust to things like co-writing?

I honestly don’t think the worlds are that different, or maybe just people are the same. I do write a considerable amount by myself, so co-writing was maybe the biggest leap that I’ve made into discomfort. To me, even if I have a bad session, there is something that can be learned or gleaned or laughed about from it. If someone has a bad ego during a write it’s, “OK, I’m not going to work with that person again.”

You chose a loaded title for this album, in defense of my own happiness (vol. 1). What were you getting at?

Every time I post something on Instagram or Twitter or Facebook that someone from my past dislikes, I hear about it. I didn’t realize that that was a strange practice until I was talking to my girlfriend. She was like, “That’s so bizarre that people you worked with five years ago still feel the need to tell you that they’re disappointed in you, or say that they’re praying that you’ll become straight again one day.”

It is the source of a lot of my anxiety, to be honest. I don’t regret anything that I am or anything that I’m doing, but there’s this part of me that wants to defend that who I am is good. So many of the songs we ended up picking for the album speak to that. I think the idea of in defense of my own happiness is, it’s maybe an open letter to all these people.

Also it’s a letter to myself saying, “You deserve this life. You deserve to have a girlfriend who loves you and live in a beautiful house, and you deserve to be working a job that you enjoy. You’ve made mistakes, but none of that disqualifies you from what you found.” The album is literally just, “Please let me live.”

As much as I hear you insisting on your right to happiness on the album, I can also hear you sitting with your melancholy, and not hurrying past it.

I don’t know that there’s any other way to actually be happy or healthy without acknowledging how you’ve been hurt in the past, who you’ve hurt in the past, acknowledging the things that you don’t understand or the things that scare you, and sitting with them. I’ve been doing a lot of meditation, because it’s 2020 and the world’s on fire. I was reading a quote about how emotions and our thoughts, we should entertain them as friends, as opposed to treating them as these things that we can’t control. I do feel like melancholy is like a friend that I entertained on this record.

That definitely applies to your song “Who Do I Turn To?” Tell me about the choice you made to phrase the chorus as one long, uncomfortable, unresolved question.

I credit the open-endedness of it to Natalie Hemby, who I wrote the song with. I am a big fan of open-ended things, but I think I wanted an answer. I wanted to write a protest song. I think Natalie could see in my face just the heaviness and the sadness. I was, like, four months old when the LA riots happened, and the fact that we’re still marching for the same thing in 2020 is so bizarre. It’s so heartbreaking. Black people have been showing up for themselves from the beginning of time, countless Civil Rights leaders and movements.

Even to this day, you can point to people like Angela Davis that are alive and doing the work. But we are a minority group, so we cannot be the only people doing the work to protect and honor our lives, especially in this climate. It became open-ended because it’s like, “You keep saying that it’s not your fault, but you let your grandpa make racist remarks while I’m at dinner.” There’s all these little actions and behaviors that play into it. Leaving it open-ended just allows people to think and reflect.

Photo credit: Shannon Beveridge