WATCH: Willard Gayheart, “Ern & Zorry’s Sneakin’ Bitin’ Dog”

Artist: Willard Gayheart
Hometown: Galax, Virginia (born in Hazard, Kentucky)
Song: “Ern & Zorry’s Sneakin’ Bitin’ Dog”
Album: At Home in the Blue Ridge
Release Date: May 24, 2019
Label: Blue Hens Music

In Their Words: “My granddaughter Dori [Freeman] put this on her second album and she likes to joke that even with all the great songs she’s written herself, people always want to hear this one. It’s just a funny song about a couple of bachelors named Ern and Zory Grigbsy who lived down the road from me when I was a kid. They had a store on one side of the road and their house on the other. We had to walk everywhere we went back then as there weren’t many automobiles. So, walking that road past their house, I was always so scared of that dog they had. And I was just thinking about that and decided to write this song. We put that on that first Highlanders record we did with Bobby [Patterson].” — Willard Gayheart


Photo credit: Kristen H Photography

WATCH: Adam Chaffins, “I’m Over You” (Live From Southern Ground)

Artist: Adam Chaffins
Hometown: Louisa, Kentucky (now Nashville, TN)
Song: “I’m Over You” Live from Southern Ground
Album: I’m Over You (EP)
Release Date: May 10, 2019
Label: Chaffins Music

In Their Words: “It was a great time being in the same room with all those amazing players, capturing the track on film altogether. Southern Ground Nashville is such a beautiful space to make music in. Studio A’s lively tones and vibe are all on display in the video. I’ve felt Keith Whitley’s imprint my whole life. From growing up in East Kentucky to moving to Nashville, his sound has always been close to me. It’s been a surreal experience sharing my take of ‘I’m Over You’ with the world.” — Adam Chaffins


Photo credit: Ryan Musick

LISTEN: Steel Blossoms, “Kentucky’s Never Been This Far”

Artist: Steel Blossoms
Hometown: Nashville, Tennessee
Song: “Kentucky’s Never Been This Far”
Album: Steel Blossoms
Release Date: April 26, 2019
Label: Billy Jam Records

In Their Words: “‘Kentucky’s Never Been This Far” is the first song we ever recorded that we didn’t write. The second we heard it, we looked at each other and said, ‘We need this song.’ We both travel so much and are constantly away from our loved ones, that sometimes 100 miles feels like a million miles away. This song is so beautifully written and what Jerry did with the instrumentation is just amazing. We are so lucky to have it on our album.” –Steel Blossoms


Photo credit: Stacie Huckeba

WATCH: The Tillers, “The Old General Store Is Burning Down”

Artist: The Tillers
Hometown: Cincinnati, Ohio
Song: “The Old General Store Is Burning Down”
Album: The Tillers
Label: Sofaburn Records

In Their Words: “Nestled along the banks of the Ohio River lies a quaint little northern Kentucky town called Rabbit Hash. A quirky and vibrant town frequently filled with musicians, artisans, river folk, old-timers, bikers, hippies, punks, and many other colorful travelers. The indisputable heart of this bend in the river is the Rabbit Hash General Store, built in 1831. The general store is a mecca for the region’s folk music scene and has hosted concerts behind the big wood stove for many years. The general store has survived many a flood and many a floorboard stomping hootenanny, but on a cold night in February 2016 the general store caught fire and was destroyed.

“After the tears had dried, the people of Rabbit Hash picked themselves up by their bootstraps, gathered around, and with the generous help of folks all over the world, rebuilt the general store in just about a year’s time. ‘The Old General Store is Burning Down’ is a song dedicated to the good people of Rabbit Hash and to the unwavering spirit of community and togetherness that they promote and embrace. The words of old-time fiddle player Tommy Taylor still ring true: ‘Rabbit Hash Kentucky is where I want to be. Cornbread molasses and sassafras tea.’ Long live Rabbit Hash, Kentucky!” — Mike Oberst, singer-songwriter-banjo player, The Tillers


Photo credit: Michael Wilson

WATCH: Steven Curtis Chapman, “Where the Bluegrass Grows” (Solo Acoustic)

Artist: Steven Curtis Chapman
Hometown: Paducah, Kentucky
Song: “Where the Bluegrass Grows” (Solo Acoustic)
Album: Deeper Roots: Where The Bluegrass Grows
Label: SCSee

In Their Words: “As the song says, ‘the first sound I remember as a little barefoot boy was my daddy’s Martin guitar and a 5 string banjo!’ The sound, honesty, purity and passion of bluegrass and folk music is what first awakened a love for music in my heart and soul. I’m thankful to have the opportunity to write and record a song (with some of the best pickers in the world!) that pays tribute to that music and its impact on me!” — Steven Curtis Chapman


Photo credit: Connor Dwyer
Video credit: Nathan Pirkle

BGS 5+5: Fate McAfee

Name: Fate McAfee
Hometown: Murray, Kentucky
Latest Album: Diesel Palomino
Rejected band name: Little Bill & the Late Fees

Which artist has influenced you the most … and how?

Bob Dylan. He created the potential of the singer-songwriter to be a popular recording artist without compromising the quality of the work. I grew up listening to him, and I’ve found his colorful discography speaks to many different phases of life. He stayed true to himself, despite the backlash he faced while exploring new territory.

What’s your favorite memory from being on stage?

My favorite memory thus far was performing with my backing band (Leonard the Band) and my duet partner (Melanie A. Davis) all together at a recent show in Paducah, Kentucky. The energy created amongst six people on the same page musically is a special thing, and I feel there is a lot of potential there.

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

A lot of my songs are driven by imagery, so I enjoy reading content influenced by that. I also have some specific literary references in my songs, so I’m certainly inspired by the concepts in the poetry and novels that I read, as well. I enjoy writing that offers just enough for the reader to infer the rest. I think about it like triangulation; if you can give someone two specific ideas, they can deduce what the third (the main sentiment) might be.

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

I had a long, reserved introduction to performing live. I spent quite a few years writing and practicing before I ventured into public with my songs. But the moment I learned that I wouldn’t have the chance to try out for a college baseball team as I’d planned, I felt my wheels turning in another direction. It was disappointing at first, but I grew excited by the freedom. I began to use more of my time writing songs and practicing guitar, and within two years I began playing shows.

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

I believe it’s all of our responsibility to help out people who are less fortunate. My father, whose influence is all over Diesel Palomino (lyrically and in the artwork), dedicated his life to this sentiment. He was a photo-journalist who documented human rights abuses by crumbling regimes in Eastern Europe and the Middle East, and much of his writing was centered around the concept of privilege vs. responsibility. I believe that humility is humanity.


WATCH: NewTown, “Long Hard Road”

Artist name: NewTown
Hometown: Lexington, Kentucky
Song: “Long Hard Road”
Album: Old World
Label: Mountain Home Music Company

In Their Words: “This is one of the coolest tunes Tyler Childers has written. It speaks about the hardship of a long-distance relationship, something I’m sure a lot of folks can connect with. The video for the song was such a joy to make, surrounded by a few close friends and family. We used The Burl in Lexington, Kentucky, for the shoot — a beautiful venue! We hope people will enjoy the labor we put into this; we think it was well worth it. Enjoy!!” — Jr. Williams, NewTown banjo player and vocalist


Photo credit: Sandlin Gaither

The Shift List – Edward Lee (610 Magnolia, MilkWood) Louisville

Edward Lee is the chef and owner of three restaurants with unique identities in Louisville, Kentucky – 610 Magnolia, MilkWood, and Whiskey Dry – and is the author of two books. Smoke & Pickles – his first – is a cookbook that chronicles the story of how he was raised in Brooklyn in a family of Korean immigrants to his arrival in Louisville, and Buttermilk Graffiti, a uniquely inspiring read that is part food essay, part travel book, part memoir and part cookbook.

LISTEN: APPLE PODCASTSSTITCHERMP3

Released in the Spring of 2018, Buttermilk Graffiti finds Lee traveling across America to learn how immigrants arrive, thrive, and influence the cuisine of communities all over the country, from the Cambodian community of Lowell Massachusetts to the predominantly Muslim neighborhoods of Dearborn Michigan.

In addition to his appearances on award winning shows like Mind of a Chef and writing and producing the Feature Documentary Fermented, Lee participates in the annual Bourbon and Beyond festival held in Louisville at the end of each September for the past two years.

Equal parts bourbon, music, and food, the festival shines a spotlight on the things that make Kentucky and Louisville a great place to visit and live.

chefedwardlee.com

WATCH: Dillon Carmichael, “It’s Simple”

Artist: Dillon Carmichael
Hometown: Burgin, Kentucky
Song: “It’s Simple”
Album: Hell on an Angel
Release Date: October 26, 2018
Label: Riser House Records

In Their Words:  “My co-writers and I all grew up in very small towns. We wanted to write a song about how we appreciate our childhoods and what life was like then. Things can get so complicated, but it’s the little things that impact our lives so much. We wrapped up that write that day, all of us knowing we had something special.” — Dillon Carmichael


Photo credit: Cameron Powell

Canon Fodder: Bonnie “Prince” Billy, ‘I See a Darkness’

Will Oldham stands on the stage of the Odeon in Louisville, Kentucky, dressed up like a bruise: black pants hanging low on his hips, a blue shirt barely tucked in, hints of mascara around his eyes. He is gesticulating dramatically and singing about how death will come to us all, and behind him a large band kick up a larger ruckus. It sounds like chamber klezmer, its jazzbo rhythm section squaring off against a frantic string section and a clarinet that sounds like a gremlin in the works. The song is “Death to Everyone,” which originally appeared on 1999’s I See A Darkness, the first album to bear Oldham’s odd stage name Bonnie “Prince” Billy and likely his best-selling album.

“Death to Everyone” has never sounded quite like this before. The original is a low-key, heavy-quiet dirge, Oldham’s vocals measured and steady and even menacing, as an electric guitar mimics the sound of decaying flesh. It is a rover’s song, a justification for hedonism and rootlessness, and when Oldham sings the chorus—“Death to everyone is gonna come…”—he makes it sound like a threat. But the Odeon version of the song, from August 2018, backed by a sprawling band called the Wandering All-Stars & Motor Royalty, is starkly different. The tempo is ratcheted up, the lyrics sung like there is an exclamation point after every phrase; the energy is agitated yet gregarious, and Oldham stands on the stage, his hands flailing to the audience, as though inviting us to partake in every lusty pleasure before we perish. Oldham might be Falstaff or Caliban up there on stage, a figure of uneasy company.

All artists must live with their works, and most musicians maintain intimate connections to much of their catalog, performing the same compositions night after night. Few roots artists, however, take as many liberties with their songs as Oldham. He constantly revisits and revises, reinterprets and reconsidered, less out of obligation to fans than out of curiosity: How far can these melodies and sentiments bend? What will they allow? In 2004 he released a full album of Bonnie “Prince” Billy covering songs that pre-date that pseudonym, written when he was making art under various Palace monikers: Palace, Palace Music, Palace Brothers. Later this month he’ll release Songs of Love and Horror, which collects new versions of tunes from throughout his career, including the title track to I See a Darkness.

That album may be his most revisited, a set of missives from what he calls a minor place, comprising something like an Appalachian operetta. He writes lyrics as soliloquies, as monologues by characters in transit, wanderers and loners, sinners both defiant and humbled. The characters on I See a Darkness ponder the thin membrane between life and death, being and not being, this world and the next. On the title track the narrator confesses to a friend the abyss he sees behind everything as well as his desire for “peace in our lives.” It recalls Waiting for Godot or True West in its stark setting and sparse details, but that makes it easier for him to restage it, as he did on 2012’s Now Here’s My Plan. That version was sped up considerably, almost flippantly, as though the character were retreating from the darkness, confessing his deepest fears through a sidelong joke.

The most famous version of the song, however, features Oldham in a supporting role. Johnny Cash covered the song on 2000’s American Recordings III: Solitary Man, playing up the implications of his own Man in Black mythology as well as his own waywardness earlier in his life. But it also plays as a late-in-life reverie, and it gives Cash the opportunity to face down the impending darkness with dignity: “You know I have a drive to live, I won’t let go,” he sings, his voice bowed but not broken by age and illness.

This songwriting strategy—this idea of songs as short plays—echoes Oldham’s own actorly pursuits. As a teenager he appeared in John Sayles’ Matewan, about miners in Appalachia in the 1920s, and the TV movie Everybody’s Baby: The Rescue of Jessica McClure. In the 1990s he gravitated more toward music, but occasionally appears in independent films like Junebug and Old Joy. And there is in these songs a sense of dramaturgy, of an actor slipping into a role, which creates a very squirrelly strain of roots music. But it’s an inexact and not quite satisfying metaphor, one that suggests he is only acting, that there is none of himself in these lyrics and melodies, that he is merely pretending to see a darkness.

And perhaps that more than anything else—his long relationship with indie label Drag City, his use of antiquated or skewed syntax, or his headquarters in Louisville, just a few hours but many worlds away from Nashville—is why Oldham has not embraced nor been embraced by the Americana establishment: He stands slightly apart from his music, doesn’t inhabit his songs the same way Chris Stapleton or Margo Price or Sturgill Simpson inhabit theirs. That doesn’t mean his songs are personal or don’t expose something of the person singing them, but that he has radically different relationships with his songs.

Perhaps that’s why I See a Darkness still stands out in his expansive catalog: It gets at something profound about its creator and implies a darkness too dark, too enormous, too horrible to approach directly. He needs the scrim of a character, a decoy perhaps or a shield; a larger narrative emerges of an artist confronting depression without naming it. “So I become more lively to bury all the ugly,” he sings on “Another Day Full of Dread,” whose very title implies a black unnameable feeling lurking within these songs. To reinterpret these songs is to admit that the depression remains, even twenty years later, but his relationship to it has changed. Every time he sings these songs, he prevails against it, bruised but not beaten.


Photo credit: Jessica Fay