Tag: Kentucky

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

Posted on by Justin Hiltner

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Oh my gosh!! “Tennessee, 1949!!” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

STREAM: The Infamous Stringdusters, ‘Live From Covington Kentucky’

Posted on by Editor

Artist: The Infamous Stringdusters
Album: Live From Covington Kentucky
Release Date: November 15, 2019
Label: Tape Time Records

In Their Words: “I remember walking off stage that night in Covington, Kentucky and everyone in the band feeling like everything connected. The crowd, the music, the band — all felt like one for the night, and so we decided right then and there to release this show. [I] took the files to my studio and remixed the show, intentionally leaving as much audience in the mix as I could because, as in all our shows, I felt like they were as big a part of the energy as anything else. The goal was to bring the feeling of actually being at the show in to the mix. We believe it succeeded and, hope everyone can feel the love and gratitude we have for our fans in this release.” — Andy Falco, The Infamous Stringdusters

Photo Credit: Tony Hume

Joan Shelley’s Love of Kentucky, Captured in Iceland

Posted on by Editor

Singer/songwriter Joan Shelley’s voice has a warmth and purity that can still the choppiest minds. Her fifth album, Like the River Loves the Sea, is a calm offering in noisy times. She says she didn’t set out to make an album with any kind of theme or message, but she found herself writing songs that often reflected her love of her native Kentucky.

For many years, Shelley chased the idea of leaving Kentucky, maybe relocating to someplace in Europe or a big city on one of the coasts. She grew up on a small farm outside of Louisville, a swarm of animals, siblings, and step-siblings to play with, a creek and woods to play in.

On her song, “The Fading,” Shelley borrows a phrase often attributed to Mark Twain about Kentucky’s sluggish pace of life: “And, oh, Kentucky stays on my mind/ It’s sweet to be five years behind/ That’s where I’ll be when the seas rise/ Holding my dear friends and drinking wine.” And yet when the time came to record this album, Shelley travelled far from Kentucky to Iceland, with frequent collaborators, guitarist, Nathan Salsburg, and producer and guitarist, Jim Elkington.

BGS: How did you end up in Iceland?

Shelley: I have a friend who’s a complete fan of Iceland. It just started to simmer in my imagination. This could be poetically in between Europe and the U.S., this ancient musical tie on the newest earth that’s in the ocean. I was, like, I want to go essentially to a different planet and make a record and see how that air feels and how that environment works.

When you go someplace like that to record, are you bringing all your instruments with you? Or are you letting the place influence the music?

We each brought a guitar. I was like: I’ll use their banjo; I’ll use their drums; we’ll use their tambourines, everything. In Iceland, there was no banjo. We couldn’t find a banjo. So someone had a resonator guitar and I had to retune that to a banjo tuning that I was using for the song, “Coming Down for You.” You know, funny limits that you encounter like that, even though it’s frustrating at the time and you’re kind of panicked, then you feel for the next step. I love that.

So were you running around Iceland looking for a banjo?

We asked musicians who had been there and musicians know musicians. It’s a pretty creative community. There are a lot of artists and songwriters. And a lot of synthesizers and not a lot of banjos. When you talk about a Kentucky-to-Iceland record, like, you’re in this black hole where you cannot find a banjo.

You became interested in music later in your childhood, but you’ve always had a strong connection to the outdoors that’s apparent in a lot of your songs.

Music came later but when I think about my time in nature as a kid, I would always wander off on my own. I remember distinctly sitting under trees and singing to the day, kind of being a little kid and making up melodies.

Were you singing with an instrument?

No, just singing. Like, bird education. Melodies only. No one had instruments. My mom used to and that’s how I found the guitar. It was in the attic.

Tell me about that.

I was a freshman in high school and I wandered up to the attic which had all the good stuff in it and I kind of dusted off my mom’s guitar that she had up there. And there was a chord chart up on the wall too. She was one of those people who would say, “I just want to get better at this someday.” But it was always someday. So I taught myself from the chord chart on the wall.

Do you have a certain go-to guitar when you’re in the process of writing songs? 

I have a Collings guitar which is a pretty fancy bluegrass guitar. It’s good for fingerpicking. I got it from my cousin who passed away. She died really young of cancer. At first I wasn’t taking it anywhere because I didn’t want it to break but then it hit me — no, she’d want to go everywhere! It’s good to be reminded of how lucky I am to have gotten this far and seen what I’ve seen. It’s amazing.

Do you remember when you first heard mountain music or when you first felt like it spoke to you? 

I would say the first song that ripped my stomach out and onto the ground below me was a Dillard Chandler song, a ballad. All his unaccompanied ballads on that Dark Holler record are just gorgeous.

Nathan Salsburg, your collaborator, is also curator of the Alan Lomax archives. Did he help lead you down that well of old-time music?

He exposed me to Dillard Chandler. I wanted to hear the female singers. I was hungry because I know they just don’t get represented in the recordings of the great musicians. When you look at old-time music, and bluegrass too, it’s male-dominated. So I was like, give me everything you got. And he collected some for me to listen to, like Aunt Molly Jackson, Little Jean Ritchie.

What do you hope people take away from this record?

Once I was done editing the songs that would go on the record, I almost called it Haven, because it’s the first song on the record. We need that calm, that haven, whether it’s in terms of relationships or the environment or political noise. I have to remember how to be quiet and lead my thoughts back to being quiet.

Even when I’m talking about love in the songs, there’s a deeper level we can agree on. Let’s get back to the deeper level. At this point in my life, and at this point in our country, this was the record that I was like: I’m going to stop telling myself I’m going to move somewhere. I’m going to be here. I’m making that choice to bring what I love about the rest of the world to Kentucky.

Photo credit: Amber Estes Thieneman

LISTEN: Nora Brown, “Buck Creek Girls”

Posted on by Editor

Artist: Nora Brown
Hometown: Brooklyn, New York
Song: “Buck Creek Girls”
Album: Cinnamon Tree
Release Date: October 25, 2019
Label: Jalopy Records

In Their Words: “‘Buck Creek Girls’ is a square dance tune from Kentucky that goes by different names depending on the source you get it from. Though [it doesn’t have] many words, the tune has a driving tempo and surprises the listener with each turn of the A to the B part. I learned this tune from the late John Cohen in his living room, from his interpretation of his recording of Banjo Bill Cornett. It’s exciting to listen to this tune because it seems like every time I hear it there is some note or emphasis I missed. For me, the tune never gets old because there’s always something new about it.” — Nora Brown

Photo credit: Benton Brown

WATCH: Chris Knight, “Crooked Mile”

Posted on by Editor

Artist: Chris Knight
Hometown: Slaughters, Kentucky
Song: “Crooked Mile”
Album: Almost Daylight
Release Date: October 11, 2019
Label: Thirty Tigers

In Their Words: “I wrote this song with a friend of mine, Gary Nicholson. Carried a verse and a half around for about a year before we worked on it. Wrote it two or three times then I rewrote the chorus that worked for me. It was the same idea, I just changed the way I said it. It’s about a couple of kids that never had much love or anything else. Then they found something good in each other and they’ll fight to the death for it.” — Chris Knight

Photo credit: Ray Kennedy

Kelsey Waldon Keeps Kentucky Close to Home

Posted on by Justin Hiltner

Kelsey is one of my oldest and dearest friends here in Nashville, so it’s an understatement to say that we work well together when we do a shoot. We’ve been collaborating since 2013 and I’ve had the honor of doing dozens of shoots with her over the years, including her last two album covers.

I drove to her house on the outskirts of Nashville on a late August evening. Her cabin-style home is surrounded by lush greenery and gardens, with old signs nodding to her home state of Kentucky and other commonwealth memorabilia about. I wanted the setting for these images to be a place of happiness or inspiration for her, which is why we gravitated to her home. Looking at these photographs, I’m sure you’ll see why.

We picked out three outfits for this, including a freshly-made Manuel suit that he tailored just for her. A lot has happened in our friendship these last six years, but when it comes to hanging out with and photographing this dear friend it truly never gets old. — Laura Partain

Kelsey’s old Stetson hat is making a comeback in her wardrobe.

Kelsey cutting flowers out of her garden. Jewelry by Sarah Brown of Stoned Beautiful Jewelry.

Kelsey sporting her Stetson hat and Stoned Beautiful Jewelry. Truly Kentucky’s best.

Kelsey’s old Frye boots.

Kelsey at home outside of Nashville.

Kelsey in her brand new, tailor-made Manuel suit.

Details of Kelsey’s Manuel suit.

Kelsey at home in her Manuel suit with her record collection and trusty Martin guitar.

All photos by Laura Partain

Festival Founder Danny Wimmer Infuses Bourbon & Beyond with Bluegrass

Posted on by Editor

This month, Bourbon & Beyond will descend upon Louisville, Kentucky, for its third annual event, attracting tens of thousands for a weekend of music, food, and brown liquor. Alison Krauss, Greensky Bluegrass, Preservation Hall Jazz Band, and more top-notch talent are slated to grace the stages over a newly-expanded three-day stretch, but the bourbon and food lineups are just as impressive.

Bourbon aficionados can sample tastings from more than forty labels, as well as partake in workshops that range from cocktail-making to history lessons. Meanwhile, culinarians can spend an evening at supper club with acclaimed chef Edward Lee or sample local fare across the grounds.

To prepare for the weekend, BGS caught up with festival founder Danny Wimmer, whose namesake production company puts on more than a dozen annual festivals throughout North America. We spoke about how Bourbon & Beyond got its start, what makes it a must-attend event, and why he thinks the Louisville festival is here to stay.

Editor’s Note: Be sure to check out the Bluegrass Situation Stage at Bourbon & Beyond

How did Bourbon and Beyond come together in the beginning?

My love for bourbon is really where it started. About eight or nine years ago, we had the idea to start our own bourbon [label], and started meeting with master distillers. I spent a year in Louisville and I fell in love with the city — well, really, I fell in love with the community. So we put the bourbon on hold and we launched Louder Than Life, a hard rock festival. Through that, we saw an opportunity for something that centered around craft — music, culinary, spirits.

Making bourbon isn’t just something you can do overnight. It takes about four to seven years before you can even drink any of the product. It’s a true art form and it’s something that takes patience. Kentucky produces 95 percent of all bourbon, and we saw an opportunity to further connect the dots between the bourbon industry and the state. When you say “Napa Valley,” you think of wine. When you say “Kentucky” or “Louisville,” you should be instantly thinking bourbon. We wanted to create an event that incorporated bourbon, food, music, and this beautiful state.

You worked with two people who are really in touch with the bourbon and culinary scenes in Louisville — bourbon writer Fred Minnick and acclaimed chef Edward Lee, respectively. What made it important to have their involvement?

We really wanted to have a five-year festival in year one, from the way it operated to the way the community was to engage in it. When you’re talking about launching a bourbon festival in the heart of bourbon country, there’s going to be a lot of skepticism. These guys from LA. Why are they doing it?

It wasn’t like we had an idea and [Bourbon & Beyond] just happened. It took a lot of different players to bring this together and make it happen — the mayor’s office, the bourbon community. Bringing [Minnick and Lee] in as partners gave the festival the credibility it needed. They’re really our gatekeepers, between the city and the state and the bourbon and the culinary worlds.

Music-wise, what are your priorities when booking Bourbon & Beyond, and how does bluegrass fit in?

The soul of Kentucky is bluegrass, and it was very important to have the genre be a centerpiece of this festival. We wanted the respect of the [bluegrass] community, but also to put these acts in front of a whole new crowd. One of the things we hope for is that artists can use our festivals as a way to really grow their awareness — as a vehicle to come back and headline a bigger room. Bluegrass, specifically, is something I’ve fallen in love with. It’s a genre that we’re going to stay very focused on, and focused on growing. Don’t be surprised if soon we’re doing bluegrass events in other places in the country.

You said you fell in love with Louisville as a city. Of course, a bourbon event there feels like a no-brainer, but what made you think this festival, with the music and culinary elements intertwined, would work there?

The people. Listen, I’m from Jacksonville, Florida. I’m a Southern boy. Louisville is a gateway to the South. Ever since we got here, the city, the mayor’s office, and now the governor’s office, has opened their arms. There are not a lot of communities that are so welcoming to the arts. The reason we now have three festivals here is really the community.

But Louisville also sits in an area that has five or ten major cities around it. We have Indianapolis, Cincinnati, Nashville. We have St. Louis that’s six hours away, we have Chicago that’s five hours away. We’ve got some major markets that are really close by. With the explosion of the bourbon industry, a lot of people really want to come experience Louisville — we believe it’s where Austin, Texas was ten to fifteen years ago; where Nashville was ten years ago. Both of those cities started with music. And I think we have the right recipe to help this city become the next [big music and food destination].

Are there any unique advantages to producing festivals independently?

I’m in a place where I can follow my heart fast. I don’t have to get approval. Sure, I have to run a business — me and my partner have a really great relationship between business and art — but I’m in a place where I can make a decision [based on what I’m aiming for] five years from now or ten years from now. I love independent companies. They’re usually great at creating niches; they’re specialists in certain genres. I think independent promoters are very crucial to the food chain of our industry.

[For example,] I don’t like that there are three radio stations that really control the listening and the programming of our country. One of the major downfalls is that we lost localization in markets. Before the [consolidation], I loved the local aspect that radio would bring to certain markets. [On the label side,] I loved that you had records signing certain genres — they were specialists. Right now, we’re missing that, but there will be a day when you see indies rising again.

Photo credit: Sam Shapiro

Bluegrass is One ‘Big Family’ in New Documentary

Posted on by Justin Hiltner

On Friday, August 30 a brand new feature-length bluegrass documentary will premiere nationally on PBS. Conceived and created by Kentucky Educational Television, Big Family: The Story of Bluegrass Music offers a comprehensive look at bluegrass — its origins, the pioneers who shaped its sound, and its Kentucky connections and worldwide appeal. More than 50 stars, musicians, and personalities appear in the film, including Alison Brown, Dale Ann Bradley, Sam Bush, JD Crowe, Bela Fleck, Laurie Lewis, Del McCoury, Bobby Osborne, Ricky Skaggs, and Chris Thile. The Bluegrass Situation co-founder Ed Helms lends his voice as narrator.

Here’s our interview with filmmakers and producers Nick Helton and Matt Grimm.

BGS: How was the idea for this documentary conceived — and, was the “big family” concept a theme you expected to find going in? Did the perspective inform the content and footage, or vice versa?

Nick Helton: We had an idea of a bluegrass family tree going in, but realized that the connections between all the musicians wasn’t that straight. But the “Big Family” theme was a constant and seemed the obvious choice for the title. I’d say the content influenced the writing and editing.

Matt Grimm: That’s right, we would often ask our interviewees, “How would you describe bluegrass music in one word?” Several people responded that bluegrass music is just like a “family.” That theme continued to resonate as we conducted other interviews and could see the interconnectedness within the genre.

There have been bluegrass documentaries along these lines made in the past. What new ground did you hope to cover by making this film?

MG: Our aim was to tell the comprehensive story from the perspective of a wide breadth of those in the genre, while also sharing some great music and rare footage at the same time. While formulating the script with our writer, Teresa Day, we saw parallels between the evolution of bluegrass and America’s larger societal issues. For instance, the effect that economic migration had on the music in the 1930s or how the social revolutions of the 1960s played out in bluegrass music also. By including these larger themes, we hope the film will also have broad appeal and reach a wider audience.

NH: We hadn’t seen a documentary that went this in-depth, especially with interviews and narration telling the story. We wanted a film that would introduce a new audience to the genre, but also entertain and inform the fans of bluegrass music.

Kentucky’s bluegrass heritage certainly informs the film — and its inception — but how deep is that connection to you and the team at KET?

MG: KET has a long history with bluegrass music. Beginning in the 1970s, KET has routinely shared bluegrass music with its viewers. I grew up in New York State and was probably first introduced to bluegrass as a child watching The Andy Griffith Show reruns with my family. Watching “The Darlings” (The Dillards) pick together onscreen was so much fun. I have always enjoyed the music, but have grown to understand and appreciate it so much more now.

NH: I’m a Kentucky native so there was some pride in making a film about our native-born music. I formerly produced/directed the KET bluegrass music show Jubilee, so I have been involved in the bluegrass music scene in a television capacity since 2007.

There’s quite an array of stars, artists, and interviewees who appear. What informed your selection process?

MG: We wanted the film to include a chorus of musicians from across the genre. All the interviewees bring their own bluegrass story and perspective. Hearing from those from California, New York, or even Tokyo was just as important to us as hearing from bluegrassers from Kentucky and Tennessee.

NH: We are lucky that the IBMA World of Bluegrass event exists. We attended that week-long conference twice during the interview process, which allowed us to interview dozens of people in one location. Other interviews were based upon availability of artists and their role in the story.

We definitely recognize that narration voice work. How’d you come to work with our friend and co-founder Ed Helms?

NH: Ed was on a very short list of narrators we felt had a tie to the music in addition to the chops for narration. We met someone from The Bluegrass Situation at IBMA in 2016 and when the time came to pursue narration used that connection to inquire about Ed’s interest. Ed was quick to reply, his schedule worked out, and he gave us a perfect narration read. We couldn’t be happier to have Ed involved.

MG: That’s right, Ed was perfect. We were thrilled he agreed to be a part of the project.

What do you hope the film accomplishes as it is released into the world? What response have you gotten from the bluegrass community?

NH: We’ve had a few preview events around Kentucky this summer to promote the film; the response has been overwhelmingly positive. We received a standing ovation at the first screening, which was an amazing feeling. We hope the bluegrass community is proud of how they are represented and that we bring some new fans to the genre.

MG: We hope the film connects the dots for some who have never heard the bluegrass story in this way. It has been wonderfully received. People have expressed their surprise over learning new aspects of the story and, I think, have found it very entertaining. We approached the task with a great deal of respect and admiration for the music. It has been our privilege to share this story. It’s been a lot of fun too.

Image courtesy of KET

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

Posted on by Editor

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

What was it that stuck out about Prine?

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

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

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

Were you exposed to that stuff personally?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

How did you get so vivid with it?

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

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

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

Why did you decide on that for the title track?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Photo credit: Kyler Clark

Dale Ann Bradley Hears the Truth in ‘The Hard Way’

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Dale Ann Bradley has made a lasting impression with bluegrass listeners as a solo artist, as well as a member of the all-female band Sister Sadie. And before that, she recorded and performed with the New Coon Creek Girls in Renfro Valley, Kentucky, where she established a foundation that would carry to her multiple performances on the Grand Ole Opry and five IBMA awards in the female vocalist category.

An approachable artist who describes her audiences as “my people,” Bradley is quick to admit that her musical path hasn’t always been easy – in fact, her new album is named The Hard Way, a nod to the Jim Croce song she covers, “The Hard Way Every Time.” But in spite of that title, it’s a beautifully subdued project that stands among the most satisfying of the Kentucky native’s long career. That’s as much due to her gentle singing as her gift for finding songs that suit her.

Bradley invited the Bluegrass Situation to chat prior to a Nashville show earlier this month at the Station Inn.

BGS: I wanted to start by asking about the production on this record, because to me it sounds very crisp. It seems like there’s a “less is more” approach.

Bradley: It is. I have learned, on some things, that’s the correct approach. This one’s more guitar-oriented than a lot of them I’ve done – since [1997’s] East Kentucky Morning. Because I had such good guitarists play, it really didn’t need to be souped up. And the lyrics are so story-telling that the song, and the great musicians that I had, found their own way and their own place to be. … This is the third one I’ve produced and I’m always scared to death! I never take that for granted because it’s just like painting a picture or having a young’un! [Laughs] You don’t know what’s going to happen.

What is it about production that makes you want to keep coming back into that role?

If I want to try something, to able to do it. Even though I know that sometimes it works and sometimes it don’t. I have the utmost respect for any producer that I’ve had because I’ve had the best there is. … From Sonny Osborne, I learned that a good performance is a lot better than everything being technically perfect. He drilled that into my head – it’s all about emotion. With Tim Austin, I learned drive and punch with the guitar, and he helped me a lot with my guitar playing. And with Alison Brown, I learned not to be afraid of creativity. Put it down, and if it works, it works. And if it don’t, then you’ll know not to do it the next time. She’s so creative. I’ve worked with three different producers with three different outlooks, and learned from all of them.

“The Hard Way Every Time” is a beautiful song, with a lot of truth in there.

It is for me. The generation that I come from, we’re all at that point where we’re looking back, and we think, “Well, I sure did that the hard way.” Kept doing it and kept doing it. I hope it reaches a young generation. It seems to be, but I think there’s something in there hopefully for everybody.

How do you find the songs you want to record?

All the memories… I may not be able to recall what I had for lunch or breakfast, but a song will stay with me. Songs that have been poignant in my life have been so much so that I’m never going to forget them. I don’t cut cover tunes just to be different. I do it because it shows how talented these musicians are. … And I want to show that in music it doesn’t really matter what genre it is. If it really breaks your heart or makes you happy, it’s all good. Then there are songs that I want to do in the bluegrass style because I didn’t want to do them in the other style.

I’ve often thought that there might not be any song that’s off limits for you. Is that true?

Well, it was close this time. I’ve never been as scared as I was with “Wheel in the Sky.” I really belabored it. Everybody was saying, “Let’s cut it,” but what do you do after Steve Perry’s cut something? Or Journey’s played it, you know? Then I got to looking at it some more. That was probably the last song that I picked. And I got to listening to those lyrics, and I thought, Bill Monroe would have wrote that: “Winter’s here again, O Lord…”

And I’ve done that with other songs, like “Summer Breeze.” The lyrics are just about life and emotions, and it’s important to me. I love novelty, funny little songs but I just really like the ones that have a message, or maybe leave one.

How did the guitar come to be your instrument?

It was probably going to be the only one that I had any possibility of getting. I would have loved to have had a banjo and mandolin, but I finally got a little ol’ cardboard, classical-style guitar that somebody ordered from a catalog. I knew I might get that one if I pressed enough. If I pressed too hard, I wasn’t going to get nothing! But I had a love for it. And still do.

I never was around anybody that played, is the thing. I had a friend who was my age, and we wrote songs together. He was very talented and he didn’t play bluegrass-style. He was a Jim Croce fan, so he would play that and I was so mesmerized, but that was the only guitar influence I had until I came to Renfro Valley. They were all seasoned Central Kentucky musicians and I learned so much from them.

You were at Renfro Valley for years, and then you became a bandleader. What do you remember most about that time? What was that transition like for you?

It was a transition that had to take place, before I would have ever gotten out of the community I was from. I learned a lot about the history. I learned Bradley Kincaid songs and who Bradley Kincaid was, and how Renfro Valley is such a treasure. I loved it and I got to perform country and gospel. I started singing traditional country there, and then the entertainment director would let me do traditional bluegrass songs with the country band. And that worked out good.

When that position with the Coon Creek Girls came open, I was tickled to death to get that. … Renfro Valley is in “The Hard Way Every Time.” Major, maybe over 50 percent! [Laughs] But I learned, and I’m thankful now that I learned those hard life lessons with good people that had hearts. I was thrilled to work there. The talent there in the late ‘80s and ‘90s – I’m telling you, it was as good as you’d hear anywhere.

And then you decided you wanted to be in front, and go on tour?

Well, what happened was, the Coon Creek Girls had been together for years and everybody got married and had babies. I still didn’t want to step completely out, so we called it Dale Ann Bradley and Coon Creek. And then things changed from there, and I signed with Compass, and then it grew its way into me totally being responsible. [Laughs] Good, bad, and indifferent!

What is some of the best business advice you’ve ever gotten.

[Laughs] Don’t spend your money! Cut corners, but not so much where you make somebody uncomfortable. But when you can, cut corners. Don’t buy what you can’t pay for. And work hard. Respect your money. I had to learn that the hard way, too — that’s the other 50 percent of The Hard Way!

Who would you say are some of your heroes?

Oh, Dolly Parton of course. I loved John Duffey and John Starling. What got me really hooked on bluegrass was that I’d hear Ralph Stanley and Bill Monroe on the radio — and Lester and Earl on The Beverly Hillbillies when I got to see that. Dolly was a hero, and the Seldom Scene, The Country Gentlemen, Charlie Waller, so many in the country field, too. Dolly could do anything. Bluegrass was naturally there, with her being 80 miles across the mountain from where I was from. And I loved Glen Campbell – he was another one that could do everything. So many that you can’t name.

So many of those artists you named have an incredible ear for a song.

They do, and it’s a gift that they can sing anything. And I adore Aretha Franklin, Stevie Wonder, and Ray Charles. You can’t stay on this earth and get any better than that.

You’ve won some IBMA Awards, and Sister Sadie earned a Grammy nomination this year. I would imagine that aspiring musicians may look to you as a role model. Do you see yourself that way?

Well, I don’t feel that I’m even worthy enough to put myself up as a role model. But if they like this style of music, I want to be somebody that makes them unafraid to express themselves. And I’ve always tried to treat people as good as I can. In those two ways, I hope that I am. In other ways, everyone’s got to walk their own journey, you know?

The IBMA Awards now have women winning the instrumental categories. As a woman in bluegrass yourself, what does an accomplishment like that mean to you?

Well, obviously it’s good that the mindset has changed, in order to really study the female musicians because some of them are quite great. The thing that worries me a little bit is that I don’t want it to matter if it’s male or female, if you’re a good player. I know so many females who are wonderful players and I don’t think we should get it just because we’re women. Let’s get it on our playing and our accomplishments. I don’t get into that (mentality of) “you’ve got to let me play because I’m a girl!” [Laughs] I’ve never been thrown out of a jam session, but I ain’t been in too many either.

Do you see a difference from when you started until now?

Definitely. I see girls cutting their gig, is what I see. Learning. And playing and singing and writing. I do see a female presence strongly coming in there. There was a time of course, I know not so very long ago: “Well… girls can’t sing bluegrass.” Now that needed to go!

I’d like to see the festival scene open those doors more.

Yeah, they’ve moved up to about two girl acts. And I didn’t really realize that was the case, because in the ‘80s and ‘90s, the Coon Creek Girls were the girl act. [Laughs] And I thought, “We’re getting hired, what’s the problem?” “Well, you’re the only girls!” [Laughs]

Going back to the title of this record for a second, I know there’s a lot of hard work that goes into a career like yours. But what would you say is the reward in that?

Oh gosh. There’s been so many. The reward was that I was able to do it. I was able to sing from the very first venue until now. I got the opportunity to sing and to write and to express myself in a musical way. I’ve met the most precious angels — and a lot of musicians have. They’re angels themselves. So many good friends that have been so good and gracious and merciful to me. And along with that, it provided a way for me to support myself and my son. That’s the reward. That right there is everything.

Photo credit: Pinecastle Records