Tag: joni mitchell

Bluegrass Memoirs: The Earl Scruggs Revue in 1975

Posted on by Justin Hiltner

Soon after Earl Scruggs and Lester Flatt ended their partnership and their band The Foggy Mountain Boys in 1969, Earl created The Earl Scruggs Revue with his sons. They recorded for a major label, Columbia, and toured regularly until 1980, disbanding in 1982. This is the story of how I came to see, hear and take extensive notes about their 1975 concert at the University of Maine.

In 1969 I was living in St. John’s, Newfoundland, working at Memorial University’s folklore department where I taught a yearly course, Introduction to Folk Song. I knew that bluegrass drew from folk traditions in the U.S. Southeast, for I had been playing bluegrass and writing about it for a decade. But I could tell my students little about the Canadian milieu. So, in the early ‘70s I began research in Canada’s Maritime provinces of Nova Scotia, Prince Edward Island, and New Brunswick

In August 1974, I moved to New Brunswick for a year’s sabbatical. My research project was a study of regional and local relationships between country music and folk music traditions. I did extensive fieldwork – interviews and documenting events, collecting music.

That fall, I met a singer-collector of country records and song folios, a perfect example of the kind of folk-country connection I was studying. I recorded several hours of his songs and began contemplating publishing them in an album.

I thought at once of Rounder, a new record company that had been publishing innovative roots albums. I’d met the Rounders – Ken Irwin, Bill Nowlin and Marian Leighton, a music collective – at an American Folklore Society meeting. They knew me as a writer about and collector of bluegrass.

Early in the new year I arranged to visit them. In February 1975, I set out in the family pickup with my ten-year-old daughter Lisa from our farmhouse in Pleasant Villa, New Brunswick to Brooksville, Maine, where we visited relatives. Lisa stayed with them while I drove further south to Somerville, Massachusetts, to visit the Rounders.

David Menconi, in his new book, Oh, Didn’t They Ramble (U of NC Press), describes well the scene at the Rounder collective’s big old Somerville house, with their newly flourishing roots music record company. We discussed projects, they took me down to the basement to see their mail order records inventory, and I came back to Brooksville with a load of LPs and lots of news about the contemporary bluegrass world.

Brooksville is a little over an hour away from Orono, site of the University of Maine, where my friend, Edward D. “Sandy” Ives, lived. Sandy was a great writer, a folklorist who’d studied and published books about 19th century singer-songmakers in Maine and the Maritimes. I was looking forward to discussing my ongoing research with him. After I returned from visiting the Rounders, we drove up to Orono to see Sandy and his wife, Bobby.

When we got to Orono, a young friend and former student of mine at Memorial, Lisa Feldman, was staying with the Ives. It was she who alerted us about the Earl Scruggs Revue concert and went along with us to it.

In St. John’s, I regularly bought new bluegrass albums by mail order from County Sales. I don’t recall paying much attention to the Revue then. County didn’t carry their albums.

Revue albums were not easy to find in Newfoundland. Working on a Flatt & Scruggs discography and, admiring Scruggs’ banjo artistry, I wanted to hear his contemporary work. I bought all the Revue albums I could find. By the fall of 1974, when I moved to New Brunswick for the sabbatical, I’d gotten seven.

Those records were in storage back in Newfoundland for the year, but I’d brought my stereo set along and by December I’d found a new Revue album, Rocking Across the Country (Columbia KC 32943). There was nice Dobro on it by Josh Graves and one great instrumental composed by Earl, “Silver Eagle” – named, presumably, for the band’s bus.

During that year I was doing field research at music events and venues – bars, jamborees, concerts, jams – and had developed a system of documenting them. I carried a 3″ by 5″ notebook (spiral binding, ruled pages) and took notes. This was with me all the time and so it just seemed like an easy thing to take notes as usual at this concert.

What follows are my notes from that February 7, 1975, concert, written up from my notebook when I returned to Pleasant Villa the following week.

Friday, February 7, 1975
Orono, Maine
Report on Earl Scruggs Revue Concert at the University of Maine, Orono.

Tickets were $3.50. I went with Sandy Ives, and we were joined at the concert by Lisa Feldman and by [Sandy’s wife] Bobby and [their daughter] Sarah Ives and [my daughter] Lisa R., who had all gone to see a Robin Hood movie. The concert was sponsored by the student union and represented a slight departure from previous concerts of this type in that instead of bringing high-powered “name” outfits on which a lot of money had been lost, they were now trying slightly less expensive acts. The concert committee was dominated by frat boys who didn’t know about music, according to Lisa [F.].

Site of the event was the basketball gym. Folding chairs were placed on the court, and wooden bleachers were placed around the side (these might have been permanent, but seemed moveable… small point). There were balcony seats on both sides and at one end, the end over the doors through which we entered. At the other end a stage was set up. Dominated by big columns and horns on either side – your typical rock concert setup. Sandy and I took seats on the left side of the bleachers (as you face the stage), about three rows up and we were about 2/3 to 3/4 of the way back from the stage toward the entry doors. Directly ahead of us in the middle of the floor was a raised platform on which the controls for the sound were set, along with a chair or two for the operator(s?). Behind this, higher and close to the back, was another platform with the lights. During the concert the colors were constantly being changed and moved about from tune to tune by a light man who must have known something about the Scruggs show in advance.

The audience consisted of college students almost exclusively. I didn’t see any old-time Martha White fans or country music types. Dress was Levi’s and hippie mufti – knit caps, ragged but interesting coats, vests, long dresses, patches, etc. There was a lot of smoking going on and some drinking. Before the show a long-haired young man who represented the powers that be got up and told the audience that there was no smoking and no drinking and that if they were caught, they would be ejected from the show by the campus police. In addition he said that, if you must smoke, then don’t get caught. But also, he said, please don’t put out your butts on the floor of the basketball court – a lot were last time, and the University is threatening to not let them have concerts if this continues. Burden of the speech: Here are the ground rules, don’t get caught, play it cool.

The campus police were cruising up and down the aisles dressed in dark blue uniforms with dark blue shirts and black ties with dark blue Stetsons. Something like Civil War Union Army officers in movies. And they were looking very serious and hawk-like.

The warm-up act was introduced, as a group from Boston, “Beckett.” The group consisted of Phil B. (missed his last name, [Buller]), who came on playing a D28 guitar and a harmonica, Steve Delaney, playing an electric bass, and Jaime Michaels, who played a D18 Martin guitar and did the emcee and lead singing in the first few numbers. Later they all switched around, with each doing some lead singing and some emceeing. I took notes in the darkened auditorium with a fancy movie critic’s pen that [then wife] Ann had given me — lights up in the dark, illuminating one’s pad. As it were.

The first song was “CLEAR BLUE SKY.” There were a few catcalls from the balcony and a rather tentative feeling from the audience. A whiff of authentic marijuana smoke drifted my way during this (and subsequent songs), and I could see people lighting up in various places. Later, the folks next to me surreptitiously passed a bottle (beer, I think) around. At the end of the first song, the Beckett emcee made a sly crack about “Maine Mounties” and from there the show built — they had the audience with them.

Next song was “SOMETHING NEW.” As all this was going on, the cops were cruising up and down the aisles, occasionally throwing people out, but generally arriving on the scene after the cigarette had been extinguished. They were on the lookout for tell-tale lights, and one time one went by us while I was jotting down a note with my fancy pen. He gave me a hard look and some of the people around me had a good giggle about that.

Next song, [“WE ARE FREE”]. These guys weren’t musically bad, but I could not really get into their music. The harmony singing was kind of Crosby/Stills/Nash and actually a bit weak; the instrumental aspect of it was bland. A note here says “harelip,” but when you wait ten days before writing up your notes you forget the jokes, I guess. Next one of the boys took up an Ovation guitar – this was Phil B., and the song was “LAST TUESDAY MORNING.” Then Jaimie mentioned that they were from Virginia and that they considered it an honor to be appearing with the Earl Scruggs Revue. Then they did “TENNESSEE.” Next, “I’LL TRY IF YOU’LL TRY.” Most of their songs were their own compositions, I guess. I didn’t recognize any of the above; the names in brackets are ones they didn’t announce that I guessed at from the words. Now Phil took up the Ovation again Steve took an electric guitar and they did a song they had written while in Pittsburgh, [“STOLE AWAY”]. Using the same instrumentation, which, incidentally, sounded better than the acoustics – that is, the electric came over with much more tone – they did “PERFECT HONEY.”

Now another instrument switch with Phil taking up an old Gibson J50 guitar and Steve going back to the bass. The song was introduced as a “folk song” for reasons which eluded me at the time. It was “SEARCHING,” but not the Coasters’ smash hit. With the same instrumentation, they then launched into a song written either by or about some friends in Boston, “COUNTY LINE.” Then, as their final tune, a song they introduced as being by Joni Mitchell and needing no introduction (?). It was well received by the audience, and they got an encore.

They came on and did a song which they introduced as a real old one by that old bluesman Eric Von Schmidt (time flies – I remember Rolf Cahn telling me in 1959 that he’d been picking with a really good kid in Boston who even did some slide guitar, a kid named Rick Von Schmidt). Song was “AIN’T NOBODY’S BUSINESS BUT YOU OWN,” and they did it well. Kids in the front of the audience got up and started waving their hands in the air, literally surrendering to the music. For the second encore, it was another Von Schmidt tune, “GRIZZLY BEAR (SOLID GONE).”

Another intermission, punctuated by further entreaties by the same fellow. By this point, the cops were less in evidence although during the second half they did eject several people sitting around me.

Enter the Earl Scruggs Revue, who plug in and pick away at once on “NASHVILLE SKYLINE RAG.” Across the front of the stage are three microphones; at my left stands Stevie Scruggs, who plays rhythm guitar (a Gallagher) most of the evening, except for one banjo tune. Next to him is Randy, who is bent over his Gallagher guitar, doing the lead work. Characteristically I guess you never see his face when he’s picking, he’s looking at the fingers and anyhow is surrounded by hair. Later, in various numbers which I didn’t note, he plays a bright red Gibson electric with twin cutouts and a thin (hollow?) body, which has a very mellow tone.

Next to him, in stage center, is Earl. Earl’s Mastertone is electrified with some sort of pickup inside, a Barkus-Berry or FRAP of some kind I guess. This surprised me, as did the fact that he was wearing the instrument much lower than when he played with Flatt. He was not bopping around as much as the boys (who, in turn, were not bopping around as much as many or most rock groups), but he was looking very relaxed, had the old smile of yore, and did move when he played more than I remember from the Martha White days. On the right and, rather standing back was poker-faced Gary, who played bass and did the lead singing. When there was any part singing done, Earl and Randy took the center mic, Steve the left-hand one, and, behind them Jody Maphis took his vocal parts on a separate mike over the drums. To my right behind and to the right of Gary, was a piano where Jack Lee the pianist sat. This is the same guy on the cover of the Rockin’ Across the Country album. [This is not correct. The guy on the cover of Rockin’ is Shane Keister, who is listed on the album cover as “keyboard instruments.”]

My first impression was one of tightness, in the sense that the band was really together and tight. And although I can’t say I like Earl’s banjo sound as well with the volts surging through it, it was sounding like a banjo and Earl did get quite a few tonal nuances from it without the visible aid of a tone control. Randy was as good as the recordings led me to expect, however, he frequently seemed to be “grandstanding” it, by playing freak-out type rock licks way up the neck which were spectacular and, effective in terms of inciting the audience, but which were as far as I was concerned not as nice musically as the well thought out stuff he did or does on record. So I was a bit disappointed in Randy.

My reaction to Earl was just the opposite. He has sounded a bit stiff and mechanical on the records I have heard (and I got ‘em all, Jack), but tonight he was nicely in the groove and seemed to have some very interesting new ideas, especially rhythmic variations, which I hadn’t heard before. He really seemed to be enjoying himself, too. After this tune, the members were introduced and they went right into “I SHALL BE RELEASED,” following which, Earl introduced the next song as an old “shouting type number,” “PAUL AND SILAS.”

Gary’s singing is o.k., it fits the music and sells the songs to the rock programmed audience. Doesn’t bother me, doesn’t excite me; seems to be better in person than on record, and better on recent record than on older records. Earl next says this is an old number he used to play at square dances back when they only had one instrument, and he says, “We’ll show you what it was like to do it alone and then we’ll show you why I was so glad when someone else came by with their instruments to help me out.” He doesn’t announce it, but it’s “SALLY GOODIN.” Intro and arrangement are as on the Kansas State album. They really get rolling (and rocking) on this one, with Earl and Randy engaging in some nice banjo-guitar call-response stuff. The audience responds here as it does again and again later on to the faster tunes, by standing up and waving their hands, shouting, etc. Following this, Earl mentions the Kansas State album by saying that the next tune is on it, an old Jimmie Rodgers tune, “T FOR TEXAS.” Next, Randy is to pick a fiddle tune on the guitar, and it turns out to be “BLACK MOUNTAIN BLUES.”

The next tune, an instrumental, was a [Blues in F] and then, coming without an announcement was “MOST LIKELY YOU GO YOUR WAY (AND I’LL GO MINE),” which has a nice arrangement with some good banjo work by Earl. The next song is introduced by Gary as one which dad wrote about the place in North Carolina where he grew up, “FLINT HILL SPECIAL.” Gary takes a harmonica break on this one.

Then, a novelty item — Randy and Jody play a tune written by Elizabeth Cotten (Earl is talking – I was gassed that he gave the tune proper credit, this really shows the kind of considerate and thoughtful person I like to think he is), on one guitar! Here Jody gets up front, from behind his drums, and he & Randy stand near the center of the stage and Randy does the right hand (the guitar, a Gallagher is hung from around his neck) and Jody does the left. Then, while Jody does the simple left hand, Randy does some fancy up the neck left hand stuff too, making it into a very interesting and rather complex piece of music. They also gag it up a bit, swinging the guitar back and forth at the end, in time to a leg-swinging rock dance step thing. Nice job, boys. “FREIGHT TRAIN” was the tune, of course.

Now one of the boys (Gary?) introduces Earl doing an old Carter Family tune on the guitar. This is “YOU ARE MY FLOWER,” which Gary sings and my impression was that the sound not as nice and delicate as on the recordings of that that Earl did a few years back. Next it’s Stevie’s turn – he does “EARL’S BREAKDOWN” on Earl’s banjo and it’s very hard to hear, giving me the impression that he hasn’t mastered the tune that well or that in any case hasn’t worked out tone production and control on the electrified instrument the way his father has. The next tune I noted only as [“FATHER TOLD ME”] and I’m at a loss to identify it from their recordings. Then, of course, the song which “Daddy wrote for a television series,” “THE BALLAD OF JED CLAMPETT” done as an instrumental. Followed by Randy’s guitar version of “ORANGE BLOSSOM SPECIAL,” which is a crowd rouser/etc.

Next comes Gary’s interesting song “EVERYBODY WANTS TO GO TO HEAVEN (NOBODY WANTS TO DIE),” which features in this performance a slide banjo sequence by Earl, in which he’s picking along, then takes his left hand off the fingerboard, reaching into his pocket (I think, what?!) and pulling out a slide and doing a couple bars of that kinda stuff. Grandstanding, but fun, and the audience can’t miss it. “STEP IT UP AND GO” is next and then “one that Dad wrote in 1949 and in 1968 they used it for the theme to a movie called Bonnie and Clyde,” “FOGGY MOUNTAIN BREAKDOWN,”
which is the final number and leaves ‘em screaming for more so they do: “CAROLINA BOOGIE,” which has some nice call-response parts and leads to a second encore in which they do “BUGLE CALL RAG,” “LITTLE MAGGIE” (bless her soul).

The audience wants more but the lights are turned on.

(Editor’s Note: Neil Rosenberg’s Bluegrass Memoirs on the Earl Scruggs Revue will be continued.)

Author’s Note: For a contrasting review see Hub Nitchie, “Pull the Plug, Earl” in Banjo Newsletter II:6 (April 1975), p. 13.

Neil V. Rosenberg is an author, scholar, historian, banjo player, Bluegrass Music Hall of Fame inductee, and co-chair of the IBMA Foundation’s Arnold Shultz Fund.

Photo of Rosenberg by Terri Thomson Rosenberg. 

Edited by Justin Hiltner.

Explore the Essential Songs of Sarah Jarosz’s Discography

Posted on by Justin Hiltner

Stripping away convention, honing in on narrative, and keeping complex melodies afloat with her ethereal vocals, Sarah Jarosz is a superlative presence in the roots music landscape. The daughter of two schoolteachers hailing from Wimberley, Texas, she began learning to play the mandolin at age 9. By the time she turned 12, Sarah was already gracing stages alongside the likes of musical giants David Grisman and Ricky Skaggs.

Her multi-instrumentalist capabilities and songwriting proficiency only grew from there; at the age of 16, Jarosz signed a deal with Sugar Hill Records and released her first album, Song Up in Her Head, in 2009. This critically acclaimed record would be the first of what now surmounts to seven full-length, tremendously lauded projects. Polaroid Lovers, Jarosz’s latest and the muse of her current tour, is set to be released on January 26, 2024.

Over the span of nearly two decades spent recording and touring, Sarah Jarosz has established herself as a foundational thread in the tapestry of modern roots music. From impeccable collaborations (with Punch Brothers, David Grisman, Sierra Ferrell), to forming a supergroup alongside Aoife O’Donovan and Sarah Watkins (I’m With Her), to a whopping 5 hours and 45 minutes of music published under her name, Jarosz stands firmly in her power. As she forges ahead, she only continues to outdo herself.

While her entire catalog is sure to edify any listener, this compilation showcases some of Jarosz’s most essential tracks. Tracing the arc of her musicianship from adolescence to adulthood, the following 17 songs demonstrate the particular sonic maturity, lyrical astuteness, and emotional evocation that span all she creates.

“Mansinneedof”

From Jarosz’s first album, Song Up in Her Head, this indelible instrumental boldly answers the question, “Can a mandolin be a lead instrument?” with a resounding, “Of course!” The first of many Grammy nominations acquired throughout her career, this tune was considered for Best Country Instrumental in 2009. Impossibly advanced beyond her years, Jarosz’s nimble and articulate melody is akin to a sonic coast through star-studded galaxies.

“Come On Up To The House”

In a clear demonstration of the range of her musical influences, the most-streamed song from Sarah’s inaugural album is a cover of Tom Waits’s “Come On Up To The House.” Her cool, slippery voice lends a new angle to the iconic tune. Paired with astute backing vocals from Tim O’Brien and a slick fiddle solo by Alex Hargreaves, this song grooves right along – an ingenious, albeit unlikely, bluegrass cover.

“Annabelle Lee”

Jarosz’s sophomore album, Follow Me Down, is latent with a mystical quality that reaches towards the ethers, shepherded into expansiveness by a creative spectrum of influences. The third track, “Annabelle Lee,” features lyrics adapted from the illustrious Edgar Allen Poe poem of the same name. Jarosz sets the eerie tale against a conglomerate of haunting textures – the heightened pace and drums evoke a sense of urgency while Jerry Douglas makes his lap steel wail, a somber cello moans, and Dan Tyminski’s backing vocals lend fullness to the ravenous depths of this dark tune. It is also worth noting that Jarosz performed and recorded this tune, very fittingly filmed in an old hunting lodge in the Scottish Highlands, for the Transatlantic Sessions in 2011. (Watch above.)

“The Tourist”

Sarah sure knows how to pick a cover. From Prince to the Decemberists to Joanna Newsom, she can masterfully braid her grace and artistry into anything. “The Tourist” offers Jarosz’s take on Radiohead, an influence cited among many of Jarosz’s contemporaries, including Madison Cunningham and Chris Thile. In fact, Punch Brothers provide the musical backdrop on this track, their syncopated rhythms and blustery fills meeting Jarosz and Thile’s airtight harmonies to create a sense of whirling, palpable, delicate angst.

“Build Me Up From Bones”

Off of her Grammy-nominated third album, this titular track received an additional nom for Best American Roots Song of 2014. This song is SJ’s most popular of all time, having racked up a total of 70.7M streams on Spotify. Here, Jarosz’s songwriting forges into new territory; her lyrics are both poetic and measured, imbued with textures of velvety longing. The form matches the content, from Aoife O’Donovan’s dewy harmonies to the pizzicato string section to the gorgeous cello solo. Effectively, listeners are bathed in a most intimate listening experience that beckons infinite re-listens.

“1,000 Things”

In another track off of Build Me Up From Bones, here SJ shares songwriting credits with the legendary Darrell Scott. The result? Pure synastry. Underscored by pulsating Celtic rhythms, this uptempo earworm says 1,000 things despite its brevity.

“House of Mercy”

This tune, along with the album carrying it – Undercurrent – won Sarah her first two Grammys in one night. “House of Mercy” was crowned Best American Roots Performance of 2017, and it was indubitably worthy. Jarosz shares songwriting credits with Australian singer-songwriter Jedd Hughes, and together they achieve a dark story arc as the encumbered narrator addresses an unwanted visitor. Jarosz opens up her sound into cutting, fierce Americana twang – effectively offering audiences a new layer to her multitudes of sound.

“Jacqueline”

The closing track of Undercurrent is stark, honest, and bewildering. The song is named after the Jacqueline Kennedy Onassis Reservoir in New York City where Jarosz, who once lived nearby, would often do her pondering. Accompanied solely by an electric guitar, Jarosz’s voice is agile and glimmering as liquid silver. She muses over the reflective surface and projected companion while disclosing her own state of unease, immersing listeners in an intimate, unyielding pensiveness.

“Your Water” (with Parker Millsap)

The first of a two-single release titled the Luck Mansion Sessions (2017), SJ here collaborates with fellow singer-songwriter and multi-instrumentalist Parker Millsap. The track, written and originally released by Millsap, is delivered as a duet. The groove opens up into a soul-type feel, allowing for Sarah to showcase a more raw, bluesy, unmeasured latitude of her voice.

“See You Around”

“See You Around” is the title track off of supergroup I’m With Her’s first and – to every listener’s chagrin – only full-length album. In 2018, Jarosz linked up with two of the most astounding women in roots music, Aoife O’Donovan and Sara Watkins, to form a trio of unadulterated excellence (it should be noted that that group won Americana Music Association’s Music Duo/Group of the Year). The album waffles between the three songwriters’ contributions, with each vocalist singing lead on an approximately even number of tracks. “See You Around” is driven by Jarosz’s signature poetic lyrics and fluttery melody, elevated to new horizons by the pristine, angelic blend of harmonies from Watkins and O’Donovan. The musical chemistry these women share evokes the divine; every single song on this album delivers listeners into the sublime.

“Johnny”

For her also Grammy-winning fifth studio album, World on the Ground (2020), Sarah Jarosz invites listeners to experience an array of vignettes; her songs on this album, more than ever, become vehicles for potent storytelling.“Johnny” is the second of three tracks on the album named, presumably, for a character the song aims to illustrate. Jarosz has said that during this album, she “[Tried] to take a step back and look out at the world in my songwriting, rather than looking inward,” and spent much time constructing the album as a patchwork of memories from her hometown in Texas, both faithful and fictionalized.

“Johnny” conveys the psychological landscape of a slightly drunk, slightly disillusioned man who is “just waitin’ on the stars/ that will never align.” It’s all slightly devastating, yet the melody latches onto an unforgettable earworm of a hook uplifted by its folk-pop flavor. Jarosz incorporates a strings section alongside drums, electric guitar, and mandolin, seamlessly using the nuances of sound to bolster the complex mundanities of Johnny’s life.

“Pay It No Mind”

Jarosz shares the songwriting credits on “Pay It No Mind” (also off of World on the Ground) with the renowned John Leventhal, who also produced the album and plays a slew of instruments sprinkled throughout. The song begins with just Sarah and a pensive guitar riff, musing upon a bird and her ponderings. The song then builds in dynamics, layering percussion and eventually a full orchestration of instruments and vocals. It’s slick, it’s sly, and it looks at the world with a cool sense of distance.

“I Still Haven’t Found What I’m Looking For” / “my future”

In the midst of quarantine, Sarah Jarosz committed to staying connected with fans by using Garageband and her home microphone to record one cover each week from July to October of 2020. In January 2021, she released two of the covers, U2’s “I Still Haven’t Found What I’m Looking For” and Billie Eilish’s “my future,” on streaming services. These barebones covers are a time capsule of a moment drenched in emotion, isolation, and fear. Catharsis swells through the minimalistic recordings – Jarosz cradles her whole soul into these songs, and the results are absolutely astounding.

“Mama”

For her sixth full-length studio album, Blue Heron Suite (2021), Sarah Jarosz released a song cycle that she first premiered at Freshgrass in 2017, whereupon she was awarded with the Freshgrass Composition Commission. At the time, Sarah was reckoning with her mother’s cancer diagnosis and reflecting upon childhood trips to the town of Port Aransas, Texas, which at that time had recently been severely affected by Hurricane Harvey. Named for the Great Blue Herons she and her mother used to observe along the town’s shore, this album is imbued with love and hope in its deepest forms. “Mama,” the opening track, is an utterly gorgeous, pared-down arrangement of voice and guitar – a most gentle and tender ode to Jarosz’s mother, who is thankfully now in remission.

“For Free” (with David Crosby)

An astonishing songwriter and pioneer of three-part harmony in American roots/folk music as we know it, David Crosby was a long time supporter of Sarah Jarosz’s work up until his passing last January. Sarah graced the title track of Crosby’s final full-length solo album, For Free (2021). The two sing the entirety of this Joni Mitchell cover in tight harmony, their voices mirroring one another perfectly. The pared back solo piano accompaniment highlights the duo’s vocal finesse; every riff is intertwined with precision and elegance.

“Jealous Moon”

“Jealous Moon” was the first of four singles SJ released from her upcoming album, Polaroid Lovers (out this Friday). Co-written alongside Daniel Tashian, the record’s producer, Sarah remarks of the song, “I’m always seeking to push myself into new sonic territory, and this song gave me permission to not hold back.” In this track, she boldly steps away from her traditional acoustic tethers and moves towards a more pop-rock-twang fusion. Jarosz successfully elicits a sense of novelty while still embodying the sense of fullness and depth she puts into all she creates – reminding us that we still have yet to see the full bloom of her artistry.

Photo Credit: Shervin Lainez

Out Now: Zach Day

Posted on by Justin Hiltner

Zach Day stands out as an artist who has developed his own sound. His writing is venerable and filled with emotion, his voice is professional and polished, and his lyrics are clever, descriptive, and carefully crafted. 

I loved hearing Zach’s responses for Out Now. It’s such a treat to gain insights into his mind, music, and process. Zach opens up about his experience growing up as an LGBTQ+ kid in Kentucky and how bittersweet it was, on the one hand, to be immersed in deep homophobia, but on the other, to be built into a beautiful Appalachian environment with inspiring storytelling, homegrown food, and the gift to sing with friends and family.

What’s your ideal vision for your future?

I have this dream of being able to make music full time, never having to worry about money to support my friends and family, and traveling the world with my partner. Eventually I will settle down on a little farm with a family milk cow and some chickens, maybe a couple kids, a big vegetable garden, and a porch with a swing and a bunch of people I love singing songs in harmony while I make a giant dinner for us all every weekend.

What is your greatest fear?

My greatest fear is not being able to accomplish everything that I have dreamed for myself and being forced to live a life of “What-ifs.” I’ve put a lot of pressure on myself and sometimes that freaks me out, because I worry I may never be satisfied. I have to work actively every day to calm myself down [over] these expectations, because it’ll send me into anxiety! That and the whale from Pinocchio… scared of him.

Why do you create music? What’s more satisfying to you, the process or the outcome?

I create music because I think I have a story that needs to be told. Being a queer person that was raised in the heart of Appalachia is a special and unique perspective. I was raised around amazing singers and musicians, but also I always felt like an observer of my surroundings. I choose to reflect on the great things I took from my raising. I have a huge heart for Appalachia and the stories that come from there. I was raised by generations of coal miners and farmers, teachers and preachers, gardeners and homemakers. I love to reflect on those sentiments in my music and I think you can hear it in my voice and in my songs.

Who are your favorite LGBTQ+ artists and bands?

I can’t get enough of Ethel Cain right now, I really look up to her and her writing skills. She’s inspiring me so much with how she is choosing to tell her stories. Also Searows… can’t get enough.

What are your release and touring plans for the next year?

I have a handful of songs being mixed and mastered right now on their way to streaming platforms and I plan to continue playing all over the place. I have shows booked in LA, Nashville, and NYC all within the next few months. My goal is to open for a big artist like Ethel Cain. I believe it can happen very soon.

 

@youknowzachmusic i was once told that i was coming off as too available and then i wrote a song about it, this is verse 2 #originalmusic #singersongwriter #yallternative #indiefolk #queercountry #guitar #vocals #singing ♬ original sound – Zach Day

You grew up in Kentucky. What was that experience like for you as a queer person?

Growing up in Kentucky as a queer person wasn’t easy. I didn’t even know I was gay until I was a bit older, but I had grown adults saying I couldn’t come to church with them, because they didn’t want a fag in their car. That was before I even knew I was gay. So I had this aura around me my whole childhood that I was different and I think that shifted my perspective on my life. In the good moments though, I could connect with music and really draw on the storytelling and lyrics that I heard to find inspiration. Appalachia is full of amazing storytelling and the environment and nature are so beautiful. I loved eating the food we would grow, I loved singing with my family and friends, and I loved hearing stories from artists like Mitch Barrett and Zoe Speaks.

You stand out as an artist who has developed your own sound. Your voice is professional, polished, and filled with emotion. Your lyrics are clever and descriptive, and the craftsmanship of your songwriting is phenomenal. What was the process of developing your identity as an artist?

Thank you for those kind words, that means a lot to me. I’m still developing my sound and my brand every day. As far as developing what I have at this point, I think that I did my homework for many years… I studied the greats and their subtle nuances… If Karen Carpenter or Joni Mitchell sang something that sent a shiver down my spine I would rewind it and try to emulate that to the best of my ability. If I heard a Dolly Parton lyric that moved me, I would let it sink into my being and ponder it. I just wanted to be able to write iconic songs and sing my face off – and I worked really hard to try and capture that. These days, I feel as though I’ve been leaning more into my Appalachian roots. I spent a long time running from what made me unique, but now I embrace it.

You recently spent some time living in LA and moved back to Nashville. What drew you to live in LA for a while, and what was that experience like for you?

I grew up always wanting to live in LA and experience that lifestyle. I was working with some folks that told me I would “do better” in LA and had a better chance at getting my music heard. But I don’t necessarily think that’s true. I love it there and I love it in Nashville as well. I’ve built a community in both places and have been fortunate enough to work with amazing people in both locations. I have my pockets of support in both cities and for that I’m super lucky. I just realized that I miss being in the woods too much to live in LA right now. I missed nature and I missed being able to turn off my phone and go for a run on a trail, down the road. I love being in the city from time to time but at the end of the day, I’m a country boy and it’s in my roots.

Photo courtesy of Zach Day

BGS 5+5: Elise Leavy

Posted on by Justin Hiltner

Artist: Elise Leavy
Hometown: from Monterey, California; currently living in Lafayette, Louisiana
Latest Album: A Little Longer
Personal nicknames (or rejected band names): Doodle

Which artist has influenced you the most … and how?

Of course it’s somewhere between incredibly difficult and impossible to choose one person who has influenced me the most. I grew up listening to the Beatles, the Rolling Stones, Fleetwood Mac, Bob Dylan, Norah Jones, Simon & Garfunkel, Lucinda Williams, Crosby, Stills, & Nash, Neil Young, some strange and hauntingly beautiful Indian classical music that my mother loved, and countless other things that, if I didn’t stop myself, would flow from me in the passion of remembering things you hold tenderly, because you loved them as a child.

As an adult, I discovered Joni Mitchell – who became an angel that watched over me in my songwriting hours – Townes Van Zandt, and Tom Waits as well as the whole of country music and jazz that I never heard from the stereos of my parents. It all seeps in a little at a time, and I find I can hear it in my songs; they grow up and learn things just as I do. But I think the most magical thing is to occasionally hear something in my songs of the things I listened to as a child and loved with all my heart – now, after all these years, it’s all still there under the blanket of time.

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

All of the above! I have always been an avid reader of romance novels and watcher of romantic comedies. I am sure I can’t have escaped their influence in the way I pursue my dreams in my life and career, and surely my songs reflect the dreams I pursue as much as they do the feelings I process.

As to painting … my mother is a painter and I was very used to having beautiful oil paintings watching over me as child; small boys on giant birds, tigers and strange monsters, women lounging in the nude, a man playing the fiddle. I can’t imagine growing up without these friends that hung on the walls and were propped up in the corners, accompanying me through childhood.

And now, I live in Louisiana, where music is almost entirely for dance, and I can’t say how it will change me over the years, but I am sure it will.


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

I wrote my first song when I was 7 years old with the help of my step-dad, who is a musician. I remember I was (ironically) trying to learn “Fur Elise” on the piano, and instead of playing it correctly, I came up with something new and ended up writing a song about a rainy day called, “Yesterday It Was So Rainy.” I played this song at the talent show in 3rd or 4th grade, and I was so scared to be on stage by myself, I hired two little girls to stand behind me with umbrellas so I would have company on stage. Hard to say if I knew I wanted to be a musician at this point, but I suppose it sparked something, because I continued to play my songs at talent shows until I quit going to public school after 8th grade to pursue music.

What has been the best advice you’ve received in your career so far?

“Listen to your gut.” I don’t trust anyone in the music business that tries to dissuade me from this advice! The complete confidence in my own feelings and needs being most important in the pursuit a career in music has been essential in order to effectively follow my dreams. It also doesn’t always mean I get the biggest record deals or most impressive streaming numbers, which is really hard to accept, especially with social media and the whole of the music industry barking at me all the time to appear more impressive. But it means I am continually pursuing my own happiness and continuing to have pride in and love for the music I am putting into the world – and retaining the rights to it, at least so far. The only hard thing about this particular piece of advice is knowing when it’s my gut talking and when it’s something else!

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

Never, strangely! I wonder how other people answer this question? I am so honest about my feelings, I can’t imagine hiding anything in a character, or a story, or anything else. I’ve always been in awe of people who write songs from someone else’s point of view or story songs. The only thing you might say I hide behind is poetry. Metaphors are great magical beings and I am at the mercy of their magic. But really, I write songs because I have to. If I didn’t, I don’t know how I would get through all of the emotions of existence. It’s like going to therapy. I write my song, I cry (probably a lot), or sometimes I feel elated, and then I listen to it on repeat until the feeling ebbs enough to write a new one, or listen to someone else’s songs again. Maybe this is really weird. But I guess I always knew I was a weirdo.

Photo Credit: Kaitlyn Raitz

LISTEN: Rachel Garlin, “Madelyne Why”

Posted on by Justin Hiltner

Artist: Rachel Garlin
Hometown: San Francisco, California
Song: “Madelyne Why”
Album: The Ballad of Madelyne and Therese
Release Date: July 21, 2023

In Their Words: “During a family vacation at the beach, I saw a pair of tattered macrame sandals in the waves. They were tied together with a strip of linen, as if someone had carefully attached them before wildly abandoning them. Interested in this tension – care, attachment, abandon, abandonment – I strummed some chords in a Joni Mitchell-esque ‘open tuning’ while spinning out a tale of a fictional beach-goer who had left me this clue to her life-story. The original version was called “Caroline Why,” but I tired of singing Caroline (so many songs with that name!) and so I asked a few friends to suggest names that had a similar cadence to Caroline and Madelyne rose to the top.” – Rachel Garlin

Photo Credit: Tiffany Murray

BGS 5+5: Ellis Paul

Posted on by Justin Hiltner

Artist: Ellis Paul
Hometown: Charlottesville, Virginia
Latest album: 55 (available June 9, 2023)

Which artist has influenced you the most … and how?

I can’t say which artist has inspired me “the most,” there’s too many great ones in the generations that came before me and too many new ones popping up as I go. And some of them are unconscious influences. I don’t go to James Taylor or Paul Simon consciously, but they are such a part of my youth and DNA that I know they are there. The Beatles are my go to teachers, as is Bob Dylan, Neil Young, Joni Mitchell. Their entire catalogues. When I listen to them with a magnifying glass, I’m constantly awe struck. They make my humility rise as a dominant emotional state. I’m good at what I do. But the gap between them and me is clear to me – but it is also where my great frontier lies. The best version of me is somewhere out there ahead — in that direction — and I need them as inspiration to explore it. To guide my improvements. So I dissect their music. And thank them. While their songs lie like frogs in the biology class of my mind.

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

All of it! Everywhere I’m engaged in life can create a song — so I’m constantly on the lookout. I see what I do as a form of literature. There is a reason why Bob Dylan is walking around with a Nobel Prize in Literature. It’s storytelling, poetry, lyricism wrapped in imagery, dressed within melody and colored orchestration. It’s a visual medium in people’s brains as they watch the details unfold in a song while they are listening. So it’s like a movie or a painting. The music is a dance. It’s flowing. It’s a kind of geography.

Everything from a great meal to a great movie can inspire. Anytime I’m stuck, I try to get out and see a film or go to a museum or take a walk. Read a book. Watch how film makers tell their stories. It’s all a deep well to drink from, aren’t we incredibly lucky? I love my job.

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

One of the best rituals I have in the studio is working with a grid sheet and stickers to watch the progress I’m making as the album evolves. I put it on the wall so everyone involved can see it. It’s a big piece of paper usually 18” by 24”. The songs are on the left side going down and all the tracks run across the top. After a musician plays their part, I give them a sticker to fill in their square for the song. It helps me project out, to see what’s left to do, and to see how much has been done. It helps to focus my thoughts on the parts left to finish and I can be creatively thinking about how I want the remaining tracks to lie against the ones that are completed. It also makes the musician feel good for some reason. They always love it. The stickers are usually cool, like Wizard of Oz characters. It brings out the first grader in people. They choose which sticker and then find their empty box and fill it with Toto.

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

Mainly— create beauty in every part of your work.

Now, since I’m in my fifties, this would be by making the most of your talent and my skill set. Focus on the writing because that is the part that will be left behind when you part from the earthly side of things. The recordings will tell the story of you in the years to come when your gone. So I’m editing the songs until they shimmer, working more in the studio to get things right and less as a road dog doing shows. I was always writing and recording on the fly. Coming into the studio with a voice torn up by the road. And songs written on airplanes. I’ve got more space now, because I’m established, and can live off of fewer shows. I can’t sing as high or sustain notes the same way, but I have more patience and wisdom now. I’m a better writer for those things. And the best is yet to come.

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

I like character driven songs and usually have a couple on every album. The latest album, 55, has a song from the perspective of a tattooed lady in a circus. I did it as a writing exercise where I was assigning circus characters to my songwriting students. So I had to assume a lot of different things with this song: a woman’s perspective, a time/era perspective – because I felt like it was occurring in the late ’40s – and then someone who is essentially a circus act in a freak show. It was fun to write. Unlike, say a “bearded lady” or conjoined twins, the tattooed performer chose to look as she does. I don’t feel like she is a victim of circumstance in the same way, so the character invites the listener to gaze upon her physique. Circus life can be tough as well, doing show after show, so you sense her boredom. Despite the fact that she is lighting the wick on the big gun of the human cannonball. She’s a bit over it.

Photo Credit: Jack Looney

BGS 5+5: Abby Litman

Posted on by Editor

Artist: Abby Litman
Hometown: Bethesda, Maryland
Latest Album: Still on My Mind EP

Which artist has influenced you the most … and how?

The one artist who has influenced me the most is Joni Mitchell. I first discovered Joni when I was in high school, and she became one of the reasons I wanted to pursue music. Listening to her, I was floored. Her lyrics were so relatable yet incredibly smart and observational, grounded in nature and full of poeticism. I spent hours and hours listening to all of her songs, dissecting them, taking them apart and putting them back together. Her albums made up my syllabus in songwriting. I read every biography and article about her I could get my hands on. Now, whenever I feel stuck with my own writing, I often go back to her songs and am quickly reminded why I wanted to be a musician in the first place.

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

I love reading poetry. My favorite poet is Edna St. Vincent Millay. I discovered a collection of her books on the shelves of my great-grandparents’ house in Maine. I was immediately taken in by her writing: blunt, sparse, yet layered with meaning and metaphor. Similar to my relationship to Joni Mitchell’s music, reading St. Vincent Millay’s poetry felt like finding someone who saw the world as I do. I also find inspiration in Sylvia Plath’s poetry and Shel Silverstein.

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

Sometimes, I struggle with finishing a song. Often, a song comes out all in one piece, almost seamlessly, but other times it can take weeks, sometimes years for a song to feel “finished.” Learning to enjoy the revising process has been helpful, but I sometimes feel like the constant revision takes away from the song’s authenticity, its initial spark. When I was writing my song “Alright,” I went through dozens of verses, melodies, and guitar parts. And the more I messed with the song, the less connected I felt to it. I was getting further from what the song was initially trying to say. It wasn’t until my producer Tyler Chester and I put some of the disparate parts I had written together, that I felt like the song finally revealed itself. Collaborating with Tyler has been one of the best experiences of my songwriting career.

What has been the best advice you’ve received in your career so far?

It sounds obvious, and maybe a bit trite, but the best advice I’ve ever been given is to “write good songs.” When I find myself comparing my music to other artists’, worrying about whether I’ll ever be successful, or feeling jaded by the music industry, I go back to that advice. I go back to writing songs because that’s really the only thing I can do. As long as I focus on my craft and keep making art that I am proud of, things will fall into place. I know that as long as I continue writing songs and making music, I’ll be happy pursuing the thing I love.

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

I currently live in Los Angeles and my go-to spot for nature is the beach. My favorite thing to do is grab a towel, sit on the sand and stare out into the ocean. There’s something about the vastness and wildness of the ocean that helps to clear my head. It’s actually a place where I’ve gotten dozens of lyrics and guitar parts. One of my favorite times to go to the beach, perhaps paradoxically, is when it’s cold and cloudy. I love the salty wind, the crashing waves. It makes me feel small and renewed, but most of all, it opens up my mind to accept inspiration that I otherwise wouldn’t find in a city.

Photo Credit: Tammie Valer

MIXTAPE: Mile Twelve’s Favorite Short Story Songs

Posted on by Editor

Songs can be truly short short stories. There is so little time, so little space to convey a complete narrative. That challenge has always thrilled us when crafting our music. When we were asked to create a themed playlist for The Bluegrass Situation, I thought through our own songs that formed the new album Close Enough to Hear (out February 3) and wondered what common thread tied them together. Many of them really are conveying a story, something with a beginning, middle and end. We all went back to our favorite short story songs and marveled at the writers’ ability to forge a genuine drama, with a plot and characters, inciting events and climaxes, in just a few short minutes. It’s a high wire act, where every single word counts and nothing can be wasted. Here’s a list of our favorite short story songs. — Evan Murphy (acoustic guitar), Mile Twelve

Bruce Molsky (Molsky’s Mountain Drifters) – “Between the Wars”

This song makes me emotional every time I hear it. Bruce delivers this Billy Bragg song so powerfully and honestly, giving it a distinctly American flavor. – Nate Sabat (upright bass)

Bobbie Gentry – “Papa, Won’t You Let Me Go to Town With You”

I was recently turned on to Bobbie Gentry through the Cocaine and Rhinestones podcast by Tyler Mahan Coe (highly recommended) and stumbled on this song while checking out her catalog. She’s done such an incredible job painting a musical representation of that longing, wishing feeling of wanting to be included. And on a dorkier note, listen to how the phrasing of the hook is different on line one of the chorus than it is on line four. So, so good. — Nate

Cy Winstanley – “Little Richard Is Alive and Well in Nashville, TN”

Our good friends of the duo Tattletale Saints are excellent songwriters from New Zealand, now based in Nashville. This song about Little Richard has beautiful, clear imagery that pulls you right into the song. It’s a mellow performance, not trying too hard and resulting in a memorable story about a unique Nashville music legend. – BB Bowness (banjo)

Jean Ritchie – “West Virginia Mine Disaster”

This haunting a cappella song written by Jean Ritchie is sung from the wife’s point of view as she awaits news of her husband’s fate down in the mine. The song captures the anxiety and uncertainty she feels while she imagines a possible future without her husband. — BB

Jason Isbell – “Speed Trap Town”

A dozen cheap roses in a shopping cart, veins through the skin like a faded tattoo. Isbell’s tight, sparse images bloom into vignettes which form a complete story by the end of this song. A man has reached the limits of his patience with a stagnant life. His father lays dying in the ICU, he has no prospects, nothing to stay for. After long years, he finally decides to pack it up and break free. When I am in a period of writing I actually can’t listen to songs this good. They torment me with their lean, sinewy perfection. To use Isbell’s own language, there is no fat on these lyrics. Everybody knows you in a speed trap town. — Evan

Bruce Springsteen – “Highway Patrolman”

“My name’s Joe Roberts, I work for the state” might as well be “Call me Ishmael.” For me, this is the quintessential short story song. There are major motion pictures with plots less deep. It’s the struggle between two brothers, Joe and Frankie, one a state trooper and the other a struggling veteran who can’t seem to stay out of trouble. “I got a brother named Frankie, and Frankie ain’t no good,” sings Joe. Maybe it’s the fact that I have two older brothers, but when Joe watches Frankie’s taillights disappear across the border I cry, even after hundreds of listens. “I musta done a 110 through Michigan County that night.” How desperate was Joe to catch Frankie, to save him from himself? This song has taught me so much about musical storytelling. Springsteen is larger than life, for me and so many others. I wish I could open the back of his head and see how he does it. Thank God we have his music, it’s sacred. — Evan

Gillian Welch – “Caleb Meyer”

“Caleb Meyer, he lived alone in them hollerin’ pines” opens this exquisitely brutal ghost story. Gillian Welch has reshaped the very structure of modern folk songwriting. She and David Rawlings prove that when the song, the vocals and the playing are flawless you really don’t need anything more. “Caleb Meyer” is a haunting murder ballad. A woman fights for her life, finding a broken bottle to slash the throat of her would-be rapist. I am in that room with her when I listen to this, the hair standing up straight on the back of my neck. It’s a full-fledged Western, and she does it in three damn minutes. She is a force of nature. — Evan

John Prine – “Hello in There”

The lives of Prine’s characters are smaller and simpler than the legends of epic folk ballads. There’s no steam drill, no six shooters, no gallows at dawn. It’s just Loretta, Davie and Rudy, a back porch, a TV that plays the same old news. This is Prine’s genius, making the mundane transcendent in its beauty and its tragedy. It’s like watching modern human life itself dancing on top of his gorgeous finger-picked eighth notes. He was one of our great American prophets, observing, critiquing, reflecting, teaching. He is missed so dearly. — Evan

Josh Ritter – “The Temptation of Adam”

“‘If this was the Cold War, we could keep each other warm,’ I said on the first occasion that I met Marie.” Ritter is a favorite of novelist Stephen King. It’s not surprising, given the literary grandeur of his songwriting. The strange, post-apocalyptic tale of Marie and the missile silo transfixed me when I first heard it. It’s more mesmerizing with each repeat listen. How does someone create a world so fully realized, so convincing, with such simple tools at their disposal? What a gorgeously weird tale. — Evan

Cindy Walker, recorded by Bob Wills – “Dusty Skies”

When I was younger, I had four or five Bob Wills CDs that were pretty much on repeat for my whole childhood. This Cindy Walker song was on a couple of them, and every time I heard that fiddle intro, it would stop me in my tracks. I’d sit there completely absorbed in the stark, dusty imagery. This song is lyrically and musically as simple as it gets, but it packs a heavy emotional punch. When this song was recorded by Bob in 1941, the Dust Bowl was barely history, and I can feel the pain it caused in every beat. You don’t always need fancy chords and poetry to make a statement—sometimes you just need a semi-natural disaster. — Ella Jordan (fiddle)

Joni Mitchell – “The Last Time I Saw Richard”

How can you have a playlist without a Joni Mitchell song? The oppressively ordinary yet starkly evocative imagery in the second half (only Joni can put a dishwasher in a song) somehow reminds me a little of some of Lucia Berlin’s writing. This is one of those songs that if you had never heard anybody sing it and you just read the lyrics, it would still be a beautiful poem. One that takes you on a journey, and makes you feel things. One that makes you question your life choices. We all hope it’s only a phase, these dark café days…. – Ella

Randy Newman – “Dixie Flyer”

This is one of my favorite songs from Randy Newman. He sings about traveling around the United States as a child of a Jewish immigrant family in an attempt to find a home and live the American Dream. He deals with themes such as privilege and the issue of losing one’s culture while assimilating. This is the story of many families during the end of the 19th century and beginning of the 20th and continues to be a relatable topic today. – Korey Brodsky (mandolin)

Songwriter Unknown, Recorded by Hazel & Alice – “Two Soldiers”

The story of two Union soldiers during the Civil War who promise each other they will bring news back to their families if one of them does not make it through the battle. The imagery of war is vivid and the storytelling is masterful. Hazel & Alice bring this one to life in their incredible version. — Korey

Photo Credit: Dave Green Photography

BGS 5+5: Jill Barber

Posted on by Editor

Artist: Jill Barber
Hometown: Vancouver, BC
Latest Album: Homemaker (February 10 via Outside Music)
Personal Nicknames: Jilly, Shecky, Barbs

Which artist has influenced you the most … and how?

My older brother Matthew Barber was my first musical influence. When we were teenagers he inspired me to pick up the guitar and start writing songs. He also introduced me to all my earliest musical heroes — he gave me Joni Mitchell’s Blue as a Christmas gift when I was 14, he taught me how to play Neil Young’s “Heart of Gold,” and to this day his songwriting continues to slay me … and makes me want to be a better songwriter. We call it sibling revelry, rather than rivalry ; )

What’s your favorite memory from being on stage?

One of the highlights of my career was being backed by an entire symphony orchestra (Symphony Nova Scotia in Halifax, NS.) … the sheer power of those instruments playing in concert, playing songs that I wrote! I felt on top of the world, and I could barely physically contain it. I felt like I was floating above the crowd. I’ll never really get over it.

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

I can’t believe I’m writing this, but I have a pair of lucky Spanx (same pair I’ve had for years and worn at every show). If you don’t know Spanx… it’s ladies’ “shapewear,” aka the least sexy undergarment imaginable… I often do a little warm-up dressing-room dance in my Spanx pre-show.

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

To find the full expression of myself in my music, and to seek others who might recognize themselves in my songs.

What has been the best advice you’ve received in your career so far?

To fearlessly write about all the stuff that nobody wants to touch in popular music: songs about long-term commitment, songs about the challenges of being a parent, songs about approaching middle age… because other people want and need to feel seen as much as I do.

Photo Credit: Jessica Jacobson

BGS 5+5: Whitehorse

Posted on by Editor

Artist: Whitehorse (Luke Doucet and Melissa McClelland)
Hometown: Toronto, although the band was conceived while we were living in Hamilton, Ontario — and we’re temporarily living in Winnipeg, Manitoba, for a year. I know… simple question; complicated answer.
Latest Album: I’m Not Crying, You’re Crying (out January 13, 2023)
Rejected Band Names: Yellowknife (also a city in the north of Canada)

Which artist has influenced you the most … and how?

Our band and this record in particular (I’m Not Crying, You’re Crying) was really informed and inspired by our long love affair with Gram Parsons and Emmylou Harris, which began in earnest when we were living in Nashville over a decade ago. We’ve made lots of detours into different corners of the Americana landscape since then, and now maybe for the first time, we’re tying ourselves back to that time and place. There’s a sort of Beauty and the Beast element to Gram and Emmylou that we have always related to — or sought solace in. His vulnerable warble and her impossible majesty bring the songs to life in a way that is hard to define but there’s something beautiful in that juxtaposition. We’ve gleaned a lot from them over the years.

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

We have a fairly simple pre-show ritual and that is: one drink; no more, no less. There’s a sweet spot where you’re just loose enough to get lost in the songs and make brave choices but not so loose your playing stinks. And yeah, maybe bring one on stage with you…

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

We are spending a year living in Winnipeg, Manitoba, or “Winter-Peg, Man-it’s-cold-out” where as I write, the temperature is a frosty -20°C. We are a walking family — we don’t own a car — so we all have excellent winter parkas and boots to trundle across the frozen prairie city. Manitoba is also a sun bathed province so a blanket of snow and a vast bright blue prairie sky can make for a rare kind of beauty and mystery. We find ourselves leaning on that big sky ambience in the production choices we employ in the studio. Reverb-drenched guitars, midtempos and big spaces are all tributes to the Canadian winter. You hear them in records by Joni Mitchell, Neil Young, Blue Rodeo, k.d. lang, Colter Wall and The Sadies, too. Coincidence? Dunno.

What has been the best advice you’ve received in your career so far?

The best career advice actually came from a running coach on the eve of my (Luke’s) 2013 Boston Marathon race: “The hay is in the barn” is what my coach Tanya Jones offered me when I called her in a panic over my impending pre-race insomnia. She reminded me that the work had been done, the miles had been logged, and that the difference between success and failure would come down to training and hard work — which I had done. Add a dollop of adrenaline and a sleepless night won’t matter, since “the hay is in the barn,” i.e., the harvest had been collected. She was right (2:55:11, meaning I finished my race a full hour before the horrifying detonation of the two bombs that marred the event that year) and that advice has helped me (and us) ever since.

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

Follow the muse wherever she wanders, know that this game is a long one, spend more time on the finer points than you think you need to, assume your fans to be smarter than you and never forget that if you’re lucky, the very act of playing the show is tantamount to stopping to smell the roses.

Photo Credit: Lyle Bell