After a three-year run with revered bluegrass troupe Old Crow Medicine Show, Mason Via is breaking off on his own and returning to his roots on his new self-titled, 10-song album.
Out April 25 via Mountain Fever Records, the record finds Via toeing the line between the worlds of old-time and progressive bluegrass with hints of jamgrass mixed in, no doubt an homage to his father, revered picker David Via. Via initially presented nearly 100 songs for consideration to producer Aaron Ramsey – among them a bevy of solo cuts, along with co-writes from the likes of Boy Named Banjo’s Barton Davies, and Christian Ward, the newly minted fiddler for the Del McCoury Band and the Travelin’ McCourys – before whittling the material down to a fraction of that to actually record.
The resulting songs serve as a continuation of what fans heard from Via with Old Crow, particularly the band’s 2023 album Jubilee, where he wrote or co-wrote seven of the 12 tracks – including “Allegheny Lullaby,” “I Want It Now,” and “Belle Meade Cockfight.” According to Via, many of these new songs were even written with Old Crow in mind before he made the decision to step away and release them under his own name.
“This is an album full of stuff that, for the most part, I wanted to do while I was in Old Crow but never got around to,” Via tells BGS. “That being said, I was excited to get to put them on my album because these tunes are a deep dive into who I am as a songwriter from my time spent living in Nashville.”
Ahead of the album’s release and amid a run of shows through the Midwest and Southeast with Logan Ledger, Via spoke with BGS by phone about his path to Old Crow Medicine show, how a Virginia festival changed his entire career trajectory, how he came to love co-writing after moving to Nashville, and more.
You were joined by a trio of bluegrass royalty – Rhonda Vincent, Junior Sisk, and Ronnie Bowman – on the songs “Oh Lordy Me” and “Mountain Lullaby.” What did it mean to you having them join you on those songs?
Mason Via: It was very validating, because I’ve always felt that I circled around bluegrass and navigated on the outskirts or fringe of it, so to have those torchbearers of the genre sign off on this meant a lot. I didn’t know Rhonda as well, but Junior and Ronnie are old family friends. I hate when artists have other people as features, but they’re not really featured – it defeats the purpose of it all. Because of that I really wanted to go out of the way to showcase everyone. For instance, on “Oh Lordy Me” we all take turns singing lead on verses before coming together for the chorus [with Bowman and Sisk], whereas “Mountain Lullaby” is trio harmonies the whole way through [with Bowman and Vincent].
You mentioned Junior and Ronnie being old family friends. Is that a connection through your father, who was a bluegrass picker himself?
It is, they all go way back. They used to have big pickin’ parties every Tuesday at dad’s house in Dry Pond, Virginia, that they called The Blue Room. They’d pick all day and night, with the last person left awake taking home the coveted Bluegrass Buddy Belt, a WWE-style belt, for bragging rights.
In addition to growing up around them, Ronnie also cut a couple of my dad’s songs and Junior was often around Galax and the fiddlers conventions I grew up going to, which the song “Oh Lordy Me” is sort of an homage to.
Speaking of home, you returned to Floyd, Virginia, to record this new album. After spending time in Nashville in recent years, what made you want to go back there?
Floyd is about an hour from where I grew up. I remember going to the Floyd Country Store when I was younger and playing up there and it being like a little mountain getaway, which is exactly what going back to the area to record felt like. It was a bit more secluded than when I recorded in Nashville and elsewhere previously, which forced all of us – myself, producer Aaron Ramsey and all the players – to be in it all the way from start to finish.
However, people will soon be able to hear those different approaches when I release alternate versions of a few of the songs on this album that I recorded in Nashville before this bluegrass record deal happened. Two of them, “Falling” and “Melting the Sun,” are psychedelic indie rock ‘n’ roll – think War On Drugs meets the Foo Fighters – whereas “Hey Don’t Go” is one I released alongside my departure from Old Crow with pedal steel, drums, keys, and electric guitar. We also recorded a version of “Wide Open” with similar arrangements in the same session that we’ll be releasing soon as well.
Sounds like we have a lot to look forward to!
Sticking on the topic of Floyd, I remember seeing you for the first time at FloydFest in 2019 with your band, Hot Trail Mix, which finished runner-up at the gathering’s On-The-Rise band competition that year. What has that moment – and the festival in general – meant to your music career and trajectory?
I’d just gotten out of college and was working as a substitute teacher at a military academy when the opportunity to perform in the FloydFest competition came about. I grew up going to the festival, so finishing runner-up and getting invited back to play the main stage was a moment where I started to realize I should take this more seriously. Since the next year was 2020 that show never happened, so my next time back at FloydFest was actually in 2021 when I played the main stage on Saturday night with Old Crow.
So the festival played a role in you linking up with Old Crow then. How did that opportunity come about?
Ashby Frank, a great bluegrass musician, suggested me to Donica Elliott, who worked with the band at the time, who then passed my information onto Ketch [Secor]. Eventually I got a call from him asking to come audition, so a couple weeks later I drove out there for a casual jam session where we played a bunch of old-time pickin’ tunes from fiddlers conventions with a couple of Old Crow’s songs sprinkled in. I came back and did the same thing the next day followed by [going to] Ketch’s house the day after to help move some furniture, which led to us writing the song “I Want It Now” [from Old Crow’s 2023 album, Jubilee]. I wound up getting the gig and next thing I know we’re recording an album. Even my first gig with them was the Grand Ole Opry – I was thrown into the fire, but loved every minute of it!
I had a great run with Old Crow, but the big reason for leaving the band was to pursue this album, because unfortunately you can’t do both. It feels a little like starting over, but I couldn’t be happier with where I am now. And who knows, 10 years from now I could be back in the band – the world is very cyclical like that. I saw Chance McCoy is back with them and they’ve been touring with Willie [Watson] again, which got me thinking about how the band is an ever-changing cast. We left on pretty amicable terms, so I think there’s definitely room for potential collaboration or a reunion in the future.
During your three-year run with Old Crow, what’s the biggest piece of music-related advice you learned from them?
I like to tell people that I think of my time with Old Crow as getting a Master’s degree in music. They taught me that you don’t need to play the craziest solo in the world or sing the wildest riff, you just need to be distinctly, uniquely you. I’ve been trying to lean into that more in my new material including this new album, which I think is some of my most personal material yet.
I know one thing you started doing a lot more with Old Crow that’s a regular part of your repertoire now is co-writing. What’s it been like opening yourself up to more of those opportunities lately?
When I first moved to Nashville, I’d never really co-written before, but when you get here you realize really quickly that that’s a huge part of the community there, similar to jamming with your buddies. It’s a great way to connect with friends and something I really enjoy because you don’t always get to do something like that on such a deep level. I’m also a very ADD type of person so I love the aspect of being intentional with your time and what you hope to create within it like that.
One of the people you co-wrote for this record with was Zach John King, who you first met in 2021 during your stint on American Idol. Tell me a little about your partnership with him that led to your songs “Wide Open” and “Fireball.”
We were set up to have a conversation together on camera for the show. That’s how we were first introduced and we’ve since gone on to become buddies long after Idol. When I got the Old Crow gig he reached out and said he was thinking of moving to Nashville and if he could stop by to ask me some questions about my journey and the process of going from American Idol to what I’m doing now. I was a mentor there for a second, but now it’s the other way around since he just signed a deal with Sony Music Nashville [in January]. He’s already got some songs doing well in the pop country world and is really about to take off. Connections like the one with Zach are reminders of just how small the music industry really is.
What do you hope people take away from listening to this collection of songs?
Every song is its own kaleidoscopic spectrum of emotions that I’ve felt in one way or another. I hope you can laugh and cry and dance and feel every emotion the whole way through, which I think is a trademark of a good album or show. Pairing those emotions with the feeling of what it was like for me growing up in the Blue Ridge Mountains with all my influences, from rock and roll to country or the string band music that was always present during my raising, was a special experience and something I hope folks enjoy listening to over and over again.
What has music, specifically the process of bringing this new album to life, taught you about yourself?
I love how [music] takes you places, it makes you feel like an astronaut or something. You get to travel to different worlds, get outside yourself and figure out who you are. Each song is like its own barn quilt that showcases the different patchwork that holds a place in my heart.
If you missed the Grand Ole Opry’s no-holds-barred 100th birthday party and live television broadcast extravaganza on NBC last week, we’ve got good news: the star-studded Opry 100: A Live Celebration is still available to stream via Peacock!
Hosted by Blake Shelton at the historic Grand Ole Opry House in Nashville, Tennessee, Opry 100 included performances by artists like Vince Gill, Alison Krauss & Union Station, Lainey Wilson, Brad Paisley, Ashley McBryde, Reba McEntire, Dierks Bentley, Garth Brooks, Trisha Yearwood, and many more. The primetime broadcast and streaming concert is just one event among an incredible, chocked-full effort by the Opry to celebrate their centennial – officially November 28, 2025 – throughout the entire calendar year.
Over the two-hour broadcast, there were dozens of show-stopping moments, from the brash, bold, and sensational to tender, intimate, and heart-wrenching performances. Good country of all varieties was on display from a wide array of artists at all levels of notoriety.
The War and Treaty sang alongside Steven Curtis Chapman and Amy Grant; Vince Gill reunited with his old pals Jeff Taylor and Ricky Skaggs; Ashley McBryde brought the house down alongside superstar country newcomer Post Malone and elsewhere in the show, ’90s stalwart Terri Clark; Lainey Wilson shared the stage with country picker and renaissance man Marty Stuart; husband-and-wife Trisha Yearwood and Garth Brooks were on hand; and Brad Paisley and Alison Krauss reunited for their 2003 smash hit duet, “Whiskey Lullaby.”
The show wrapped with a stunning full cast tribute to Dolly Parton, who greeted the Opry House audience via video and gave her sincere regrets for not being able to appear at the event. (Parton’s husband of 58 years, Carl Dean, recently passed away.) Dozens of the evening’s star artists took to the stage to pay tribute to Parton by singing her most famous hit, “I Will Always Love You,” a perfect, soaring sing along to close the momentous show.
There are truly too many once in a lifetime collaborations, songs, moments, and performances from Opry 100 to list, so we ultimately recommend that you take a couple of hours, head over to Peacock, and watch the full broadcast. But for now, get your fix by traveling through a few of our own favorite moments from Opry 100: A Live Celebration below.
Blake Shelton Hosts
Country superstar, award winner, and television personality Blake Shelton was a more than qualified host for Opry 100: A Live Celebration. Of course, he also gave a rousing performance of Joe Diffie’s “Pickup Man” to the delight of everyone in the crowd who find somethin’ they like in a pickup man. It wouldn’t be a celebration of country or the Opry without a truck mention.
Nashville’s Own, the McCrary Sisters
Nashville’s favorite, in-demand singing siblings, the McCrary Sisters were on hand for Opry 100, too. It’s certainly not their first time on the hallowed Opry stage, but in the centennial context their appearance reminds of the legacies of similar groups who blazed trails at the Opry before them – like the Pointer Sisters – and those who’ve followed in their footsteps, like the Shindellas and Chapel Hart.
Steven Curtis Chapman and the War and Treaty Share a Sacred Moment
Grand Ole Opry member and contemporary Christian singer-songwriter Steven Curtis Chapman was joined by Americana/soul/country duo the War and Treaty for his performance on Opry 100.
Lainey Wilson and Hall of Famer Marty Stuart Duet
One of the biggest names in country at the moment, former GC and BGS Artist of the Month Lainey Wilson was joined by bluegrasser, fiery picker, and Country Music Hall of Famer Marty Stuart backing her up on mandolin. They perform “Things a Man Oughta Know” from her huge 2021 album, Sayin’ What I’m Thinkin’, which many regard as her breakout release.
Ashley McBryde with Post Malone and Terri Clark
Ashley McBryde had multiple stellar moments during Opry 100, including these two prime duo performances. One with ’90s country star Terri Clark and another with a superstar newcomer to the genre, Post Malone. Her song selection with Postie was impeccable, too, taking the Opry 100 down to “Jackson” to mess around.
Trisha Yearwood with Garth Brooks and Reba McEntire
Country has boasted many amazing artist couples, but who better to take the Opry 100 stage than Trisha and Garth? Trisha also appeared with Reba McEntire to perform “The Night the Lights Went Out in Georgia,” a track that has been a huge generation-spanning hit for McEntire.
Brad Paisley and Alison Krauss Reunite
An iconoclastic example of a tear-jerker country story song, Paisley and Krauss’s recording of “Whiskey Lullaby” was released in the 2000s, but has had immense staying power. It shines from the Opry 100 stage in its simple and stripped-down styling. Is anyone a better duet partner and harmonizer than Alison Krauss? Perhaps not. Certainly a highlight among all of the many highlights of the broadcast.
Alison Krauss & Union Station Perform, Too
On the precipice of their first album release in over 14 years, Alison Krauss also brought her band Union Station – including newest member, Russell Moore – to the Opry 100 stage. Introduced by the Queen of Bluegrass, Rhonda Vincent, AKUS performed a hit from a prior era, “Let Me Touch You for Awhile” off 2001’s New Favorite. Their brand new project, Arcadia, releases March 28.
Country Music Hall of Fame Inductee, Vince Gill
It wouldn’t have been a complete lineup for Opry 100 without Vince Gill! The Country Music Hall of Famer was joined by his old friends Jeff Taylor on accordion, Sonya Isaacs, and fellow inductee Ricky Skaggs, to sing perhaps his most famous song, “Go Rest High on that Mountain.” An impactful and inspiring number, the original has been a comfort to thousands of fans and listeners experiencing their own losses and grief. Of his deep-and-wide catalog of music, there’s not a better choice for an evening like Opry 100.
Ketch, Dierks, and Jamey
An Opry member trifecta, Dierks Bentley, Jamey Johnson, and old-time and bluegrass fiddler Ketch Secor (of Old Crow Medicine Show) paid tribute to the Charlie Daniels Band with a perfectly honky-tonkin’ medley of “Drinkin’ My Baby Goodbye” and, of course, “The Devil Went Down to Georgia.” From the sidewalks of Lower Broadway to the Grand Ole Opry stage, Charlie Daniel’s impact on country is indelible.
Luke Combs’ Mother Church Moment
From the hallowed stage of the Ryman Auditorium, the most famous former home of the Grand Ole Opry, one of the most popular singers in all of country, Luke Combs, performed George Jones’ “The Grand Tour,” as well as “Hurricane,” for Opry 100. With more than 800 million streams (on Spotify alone), “Hurricane” is one of his biggest hits from his 2017 album, This One’s For You, which has been certified double platinum by RIAA.
This long list of our favorite Opry 100 moments is still, somehow, merely the tip of the country iceberg. Head to Peacock to stream the entire broadcast so you don’t miss a single memorable moment. And stay tuned as the Grand Ole Opry continues their 100th birthday celebration all year long.
All photos courtesy of the Grand Ole Opry; credit Getty/Jason Kempin.
Lead image: Brad Paisley and Alison Krauss perform “Whiskey Lullaby” live at Opry 100.
Each year, the country music machine and its many fans and acolytes turn over, again and again and again, the quintessential question of “What is authenticity?” We’ve asked that very question quite a few times on Good Country over the last year ourselves, and we know as long as roots music and folk music are made, listeners will continue to ponder what is or isn’t “real,” “raw,” or… “authentic.”
Wyatt Flores has been chosen as authentic. Country Music has spoken, and this quickly skyrocketing young artist has been riding a wave lately surfed by folks like Sierra Ferrell, Tyler Childers, Colter Wall, and Zach Top. Like these real country “poster children,” Flores’ music is realistic and grounded. It isn’t idealized revisionism in outlaw trappings. His songs never attempt to sugarcoat or mythologize, paving over the complications of rural life, red dirt realness, or the gritty patina of a rural places – like his homeland of Oklahoma.
Flores’ new album, Welcome to the Plains, is decidedly and delightfully trad country with nearly universal critical and listener acclaim. He currently racks up 3.5 million streams a month on Spotify alone, bolstered by a series of incredibly popular and consistently viral singles and EPs leading up to this, his full-length debut. For so many writers, diehard fans, and critics, Flores has long been “one to watch,” but that visibility stretches further and wider, to listeners across the country and around the world from so many different backgrounds and starting points.
Part of the reason why such a young artist with a relatively nascent career could have already amassed such a coalition of followers is that realistic, unguarded, “I know who I am, even though I’m still figuring out where I’m going” approach. It’s evident in his artistry, his performing prowess, and his skill for songwriting – all of which are evidenced prominently across this album.
Welcome to the Plains is one of the most remarkable records of 2024; it continues a tone long set in Flores’ career and music, even before this current inflection point and its substantial momentum. Wyatt Flores is bound for longevity, for many more successes, for many more millions of plays, as long as he remains exactly who he is: Wyatt Flores.
Your music has such a strong sense of place, so I wanted to start by talking about Oklahoma and growing up there. You’re down to earth in the way that you talk about Oklahoma from the beginning of the album, from the first notes of the title track. You’re viewing it in a very realistic way, not just in an idealized way. Can you talk about how Oklahoma inspired the album and what “home” means to you?
Wyatt Flores: When you think about Oklahoma, you have to [barely] scratch the surface to know that the history behind it is pretty screwed up, how Oklahoma came about, and we’re not one of the best states, if that makes sense? We’re 49th in education. And we’ve got a lot of people from California moving there just because it’s cheaper and everything else, but to live in Oklahoma, you gotta bear through the weather.
Then also, every year is a coin toss if things are going to grow, right? This year’s been a struggle up until this past couple of weeks, [during] which we just got like a foot of rain. But yeah, it’s been one of the hardest places to really build. And the people are so damn nice in Oklahoma, but it’s a tough place to live. Most people don’t want it. But I love it. “Welcome to the Plains,” it’s trying to describe [Oklahoma] … in the verses I really wanted to try and find more of a nature side to it, and then by the chorus just really tell the truth about it.
It feels really authentic and grounded, but you can still hear that you love Oklahoma in it, too. I think that’s a really interesting combination. Country is really good at rural America propaganda – and I love rural America, so I’m for it, to a degree – but to me, your album doesn’t feel like it has to close an eye to the history of Oklahoma to love it.
Yeah, it was a fun journey to try. I was sitting there just trying not to write songs about the road, because that was the only thing that I was doing. I was like, “This is the only life I’m living.” And not many people know what it’s like to be on a bus or on tour – at that time we were still in the van. It was more so daydreaming about home, missing the place, and then just trying to find the memories to piece everything together.
And I had a lot of weird influences, like “Little Town,” I was really trying to find the same feeling as listening to “Pink Houses” by John Mellencamp. I don’t write too many happy songs, and I was not in a good headspace in that time period. For some reason, I guess I was just daydreaming of a better life, and I kept writing about home, but in a different format of not always missing it.
Another song that really captures this topic is “Stillwater.” I love that it has this sort of dark, contemplative tinge and it feels gritty. Could talk a little bit about writing “Stillwater” and about your relationship with “home” and the construction of “home”? That’s such a country tradition as well, not just talking about home and missing it, but understanding that home is a nebulous, intangible thing, even if it literally exists.
There’s a lot of bands that say they come from Stillwater, but they really just started in Stillwater and they came from a different area, since it is a college town. But I was born and raised there in Stillwater. All my life the college has been my backyard. When I wrote that song in the summer of ’22, I had my guitar player with me and my fiddle player’s husband and we sat down to write that. It was more so just trying to give people a different perspective on what it’s like to actually grow up in a college town, because it’s a vicious cycle of the same shit – like, no one else sees it, because they’re living inside of the four years of going [to college].
And me also being a college dropout, I never got to actually go to [Oklahoma State University]. I went to OSUIT in Okmulgee, Oklahoma. And that did not last long. [Laughs] But yeah, I was like, “No one’s ever actually talked shit on a hometown and actually put the name in it.” So I was just being ballsy with it. I had to change quite a few lyrics, because I kind of went a little too far. I probably would have pissed a lot of people off.
The song was intentional. I don’t know, [I wanted to] make people think differently. Because that is my home. A lot of times, you just see people take advantage of the town, and the town keeps growing. Every single time I come back home now, there’s another chicken place and another damn car wash. I was like, “How many do we need?” Good lord. I was really pissed off in the mindset of it. I’m glad that we captured it, because for a while, I was scared to release it just because I was like, “People are gonna think that I hate Stillwater.” But really, it’s still a love song towards it.
It feels like you’re loving Stillwater, you’re loving Oklahoma, but your love for it requires you to look at it through an accurate lens and not an idealized version of it.
And it’s a relationship. My relationship with that town has just been back and forth. You’ll have that resentment, and you’ll have that frustration with it, but you still love it. It’s crazy to think about it that way, through that lens, but that’s what it is.
You touched on your co-writing process and I was excited to see how forward your own writing and your own perspective is on this album. Can you describe your co-writing and collaboration process for these songs? I noticed, too, that Ketch Secor co-wrote the title track.
When I wrote with Ketch, that was super cool. ‘Cause I had just gotten done watching Killers of the Flower Moon. I was already so inspired by that and wanting to really speak some truth. But not just by absolutely laying into people on the bad shit that’s going on – you can’t force-feed people. When we sat down [to write, Ketch] said that he wanted to write shit about Oklahoma and I was like, “That works out great!” The song just came together and it was it’s one of the coolest things, because I didn’t know how to feel about it quite yet. I was like, “This has some good shit in there…” and then when we went to record it, I was like, “Here it is! This is the way it’s supposed to go.”
But with the writing of this entire album, I was scared shitless. I didn’t think I was good enough, and I didn’t think these songs were good enough for an album. I started overthinking the entire thing. People can get mad at me all they want for doing co-writes, but I’m still writing. It’s not like I just sit in there and wait for these people to write these songs for me. This is all me.
The other thing is, my music taste [has] so much variety that I think it’s only better if I sit down with other people that have other strengths, to get to where I want to go – into these different styles of songs. I don’t want to do the same song, different chords, you know what I’m saying? I wanted it to be so unique and to keep it the way that I’ve always done it, which is to have different styles of songs. For that, I feel like you have to have different songwriters come in and give you different pieces.
I also have to ask you about bluegrass. One of the first things that we shared on our site of yours was a Tyler Childers cover that you recorded with Sierra Hull at Red Rocks. Our audience loved it so much. I think part of why your music resonates across diehard country fans to indie fans to bluegrass fans is that you’re not just a performer and a songwriter, but you’re a picker, too. What is your relationship like with bluegrass music? Is it something that’s prominent in your listening and in your influence?
So, I will first and foremost say this: I am not that good of a picker. [Laughs]
That stuff, that is something that I love. That is a different art. That is so beautiful. But my love for it– everyone in Oklahoma started listening to Tyler Childers and that’s when he came around, I want to say in my high school days. That’s when everything took a shift. I was like, “I don’t know what this is…” because we all grew up listening to red dirt [country], which is what I am. But my influence has really changed. In the summer of ‘22, Laurel Cove Music Festival was the first time that I had seen Nicholas Jamerson, Charles Wesley Godwin, Sierra Ferrell, Cole Chaney. That changed everything for me. It changed the entire way that I looked at music, and from that point on I started listening to every single one of those artists. It just led to more.
I love bluegrass and I try to have a couple songs [in that style], but I can’t call myself bluegrass. As much as I love what they’re doing and I try, I have my influences, I’m still red dirt. The way that those artists do what they do, it’s because they are them. I have my influences, but I am still just me. So whatever comes out, it’s just me loving and respecting it. But I can’t fully call myself a bluegrass musician, because I’m not. I’m jealous of it though, I’ll tell you that much. I’m jealous, I wish!
The production style and the different aesthetics that you’re utilizing on the album feel like classic country and old country plus dashes of country & western. There are moments that are really rocking and there are moments that are really subdued. It’s also really modern and crisp. How much of that is coming from you or from the ensemble and how much is coming from your producer, Beau Bedford?
A lot of that was Beau. I learned so much from him. [Before,] I really didn’t ever get the experience of being in a studio with musicians that are just wizards. Beau really took care of me.
It was a challenge, because we recorded in three different places. We were in Nashville, in North Carolina, in LA, and then we finished in Nashville. We were scared that it wasn’t gonna flow together, being in these different studios and then also just having this [group] of songs. Luckily, it all came together and as different as they do sound, they still flow. That was all just luck. We’re all we’re all sitting there going, “Huh? Hope this goes right!” I had my doubts, too, and [Beau] goes, “Wyatt, everything’s gonna be all right, because you are the main character that runs through this entire thing.”
That’s the constant throughout the entire project. I’m just lucky that it worked. When you go from different styles of songs – red dirt, and then you got this beachy [thing], old-time. It’s just crazy how they all go along together. Then it goes into this weird psychedelic rock and “Falling Sideways.” It was a wild adventure, and I’m so grateful for it. I just can’t believe the way that it turned out.
I ask this last question often, especially with people like yourself who are so effortlessly traditional country. There are a lot of folks out there who are excited about you – and artists like Zach Top and Tyler Childers and Zach Bryan – because these listeners sense that there’s this “new movement” that’s going to save country music, that’s going to renew country. That country is going to be what it used to be before “murder on Music Row.”
I wondered what your thoughts and feelings are on that paradigm?Because I sense that you don’t care so much about what is or isn’t traditional or what is or isn’t “inside” country. Does country music need to be saved? Do you see yourself as part of that saviorship? Do you care?
There’s something to be said about it, because yeah– I have my opinions about commercial country. There’s some really good songs and then I also think there’s some songs that say absolutely nothing. I guess as a songwriter, my goal is to keep writing about real shit and keep expressing myself with vulnerability. And to still write good songs.
I have a very important person in my life who’s been a mentor to me; his name’s Shane Lamb. I used to talk about writing these super-poppy melodies. And he goes, “Yeah, it’s because it’s popular music. … Who are some of your favorite artists?” We started going through Tyler Childers, early on in the days of me being in Nashville. [Shane] was like, “Listen to the fucking melody, Wyatt. It’s a pop melody. It’s for popular music. That’s why it works. But his arrangement is country.”
And I was like, “Oh… when you think about it that way, yeah, I guess you’re right.” So, I do try to have poppy melodies as much as I can, but I still try and keep my verses very needy, if that makes sense. I like putting a whole bunch of detail and really trying to focus in on the verses and let the chorus speak for itself.
That’s so perfectly put; yes, country has always been popular music. It’s one of my favorite Tyler Mahan Coe quotes, the creator of Cocaine and Rhinestones, the podcast and the book. He talks regularly about how country music has always been popular music. That’s not to say that fact absolves Music Row and Music City from all the truck and beer songs, but it certainly helps remind us that hand-wringing over “Is country music going to be okay?!” is not something that’s ever going to go away, but it’s also not something we really need to worry about.
And I think for the first time ever with social media, people are able to find new music that’s always been there. They’re just now finding out about it for the first time, because the radio stations aren’t playing it. That’s its own deal. But now they’re able to find all this new music and I feel like country is still going to be country. Like you said, when it comes to beer and truck songs, I think the thing that’s missing is them not explaining what they love about it. They’re just talking about it, not being vulnerable with it.
I think about “Drive” by damn Alan Jackson, dude. That is just talking about driving. That’s really all it is, but the sentiment is there, because it has to do with the father and the son. And then, all of a sudden, there’s the father and the daughter – that is fucking awesome country music that I still absolutely love! I wish that I could do that, like that Zach Top thing. I told him that whenever I met him, I was like, “Dude, I wish I could do it.” I really do. ‘Cause he’s fucking killing it. There’s so many different styles of music and I’d rather just do what I want to do, which is all of them, rather than just settle for one sound.
Willie Watson has been a solo act for well over a decade, since leaving Old Crow Medicine Show way back in 2011. And while he’s put out records since then, in many ways his self-titled third release marks a new beginning. A lot of that comes from the fact that it’s Watson’s first solo work with original material, following two volumes of Folk Singer albums drawing from The Great American Folk Song book.
Watson worked with a co-writer on the original songs on Willie Watson, Morgan Nagler from Whispertown 2000, and the results sound like the sort of songs you’ll hear traded around folk festival campfires for years to come. The co-production team of former Punch Brothers fiddler Gabe Witcher and Milk Carton Kids guitarist Kenneth Pattengale capture the tracks in spare, elegantly understated arrangements with the spotlight firmly on Watson’s voice.
The album begins with a literal trip down to hell on “Slim and The Devil” (inspired by 2017’s white supremacist riots in Charlottesville, Virginia) and ends with “Reap ’em in the Valley,” an autobiographical talking gospel about Watson’s own long, strange trip. In between are songs about love, fear, the occasional murder. One of them is another cover, Canadian folkie Stan Rogers’ stately “Harris and the Mare,” and you’ve never heard a song that’s both so beautiful and so horrific.
BGS caught up with Watson on the eve of his album’s release.
So after so many years playing old folk songs, what got you into writing your own?
Willie Watson: I’ve always written songs, but never thought of myself as a “real” songwriter, like Gillian Welch or Dylan or Ketch [Secor]. That just didn’t seem like what I was engineered toward. I wanted to be that kind of songwriter, but told myself I didn’t measure up. So I got into traditional music. When I’d get together with friends at parties, I’d be more likely to sing songs that were traditional or someone else’s. Being in Old Crow was great, because I got to write with other people, mostly Ketch. Co-writing was easier on me.
Once I found myself on my own, I was very scared to write by myself. Being completely responsible for everything is scary and for whatever reason I could not bring myself to do that. Now I understand that no matter how simple, complicated, mature, childish or anything else I put into a song might be, it’s okay. I don’t have to tear apart and criticize, say terrible things about it before I’ve even written it down on the page. Left on my own, that’s typically what I’d do. It’s only now at age 44 that I can get past that. What a long road.
Do you remember the first song you ever wrote?
“Roll On” when I was 15 or 16. It was wintertime at my house in Watkins Glen, late one night when everybody else was asleep. I went out to smoke in the back yard and it was quiet. As I looked at the nighttime winter sky, I had this story come into my head about a cowboy in an old town. I wrote the words out quick, almost as I would have been playing it. Just looked up at the sky and thought of it and it washed over me fast. It was a pretty powerful first song, but I ignored it and have the most regret about that. For whatever reason, there was something in my life that made me not give it enough credit.
How did you connect with your co-writer, Morgan Nagler?
She’s a great songwriter who has made a few records, does a lot of co-writing with people you know. You’ve heard songs on the radio that she co-wrote. I was afraid to sit down on my own and write, and Dave Rawlings said I should call her. I was apprehensive about presenting ideas and words and parts of myself to a person I didn’t know, but it was immediately fruitful. The first day, four hours later we had a song I really liked, “One To Fall” – it’s on this record. That we came up with something I felt strongly about right a way got me fired up, so we kept going. Every time we got together we wrote a good song.
What was it like to appear in the Coen Brothers movie, The Ballad of Buster Scruggs?
It was amazing. They had me audition for another movie I did not get the part for, but they already had me in mind for the one after that. But it was terrifying. Little cameras scare me enough and the big gigantic ones are even scarier. Like a gigantic eye and you’re not supposed to look at them even when they’re right in your face. I’m no actor. I knew my lines, but did not know what to do. I called Joel [Coen] a month before to ask if there was anything he could tell me to prepare me. “The only thing I’ll tell you is your first instinct is probably right,” he said. Which didn’t help at all. On-set, I was still scared. I had to learn to get on the wrong side of the horse because of the camera shoot, which was awkward. So I was not knowing what to do until they took me to wardrobe. Once I had on the costume and the hat and looked in the mirror, I suddenly knew exactly what to do. When I saw how I looked, it all made sense: Just go out and be Clint Eastwood.
Fear, even terror, seems like a recurrent theme in your life as well as your work.
It’s a recurring thing for every human, if they’ll admit it. It’s so freeing to admit I don’t know what’s going on, I’m scared, I need help. So much of the time I’ve done the opposite and gotten nowhere. The only person making my life hard was me. Touring with different people, I see them get into stressful situations and I think, “It must be hard to be them today.” I was just like that for a long time, tearing through things everywhere I went. I was afraid and my way of dealing with that was to try and control things. A lifetime of that proved disastrous.
I got to the point of trying other things and eventually learned about humility. That started me changing and growing and recognizing that the only reason I made my life so hard was being afraid of everything. It’s so risky doing this and I am scared of it. I’m apprehensive about even saying that. The public wants you to be confident onstage and I am that. Sometimes not, though. It’s hard to put it out there and not be afraid. I’m gonna cry a lot in front of people onstage, and that’s brave and good for me. This record is me understanding that there’s power in those uncomfortable moments, and embracing them. There’s a lot of healing in being able to go ahead and do that.
Who are you dancing with in the video to “Real Love”?
That’s my wife Mindy and the song’s about her. Once we got together, it went quick with us. But there was not romantic interest when we met, we were just working together. She’d quit her job as a fast fashion designer wanting to do something fun, cool, more fulfilling. A mutual friend was trying to get us together, knowing she was interested in getting into denim work and that’s what I do. The friend knew I needed help. So she started as an apprentice, got good fast, and we ended up working together. For a year we sat and sewed together and became best friends, she’s the best I ever had.
I was careful about that relationship, didn’t want to ruin it. So that song’s about how it started and what it meant, how true our love feels. It outdid everything else I’ve experienced my whole life. It shows how every other relationship I’ve ever had, I wanted the wrong things and, I daresay, they all wanted the wrong things from me, too. It went both ways. I’m not even talking about romantic love. It ends up being about everyone in my life. The story of my love life is the story of my life, love in all its forms. It’s a bold statement that she is the only real love in my life so far.
How did you come to know Stan Rogers’ “Harris and the Mare”?
I’m a Stan Rogers fan and that song comes from Between The Breaks, a live album recorded at McCabe’s in Santa Monica. I was thinking, “Do I want to put this on a record with my songs?” I’d written simple rhymes, couplets that are almost kinda childish – and I’m gonna put them next to a well-crafted song by a master songwriter? But Kenneth and Gabe had heard me sing that one at shows for a while and really wanted it on tape, and I guess I did, too. And after the recording came out so awesome, how could it not be on the record? I found out it did tie into my life. We made this record and I was unsure if any of it made any sense. Once it was sequenced and I lived with it for a month or two, it came into focus. That’s a violent song about a man who doesn’t want to be angry and violent. And I’ve been that man in my life. I relate to this guy.
The other cover, “Mole in the Ground” – did you know that one from Anthology of American Folk Music?
Yes. I love Bascom Lamar Lunsford, he’s so weird and interesting to listen to. Those old recordings, I can’t listen to a lot of Carter Family or Blind Willie McTell. Three or four songs and I don’t want to hear more. But Bascom, I can listen to a good 30 minutes and that says a lot. Like “Harris,” that was a big puzzle piece where I was unsure how it would fit. What made it were the string arrangements. That tied it in with “Harris” and “Play It One More Time.” Gabe directed the string arrangement, but let them find their own way. It was a cool every-man-for-himself arrangement.
The closing song, “Reap ’em in the Valley,” really tells a lot about how you came to be who and where you are, describing an early encounter with a singer named Ruby Love.
I’ve always talked too much at my shows. But being alone onstage, I had to find ways to make it more interesting. Switching from guitar to banjo is a great tool in the arsenal, but people still got bored of that. Folk singers traditionally tell stories and lead sing-alongs. So I learned how to talk to people in a real personal way about mundane things, relating our lives to find common ground rather than tear each other apart. Just me up there, whether it’s in front of 15 or 50 or 1,500 people, it becomes a battle if it’s not working. Me against them. Sometimes it was a disaster, when I was not speaking from experience or the heart, places I knew. But once I started telling stories about me simply walking down a country road, they’d perk up and listen. So I became a storyteller. I figured I’d put one on this record, and that was one Kenneth and Gabe really wanted me to do.
I hope it translates. It’s my experience of looking back at evidence of what I call God in my life, how you can’t deny it. What I am now, Mr. Folksinger. That’s what people recognized me as, the place I ended up. It could have gone differently, but this is what I’m here for. Those impactful moments. I didn’t think much about Ruby Love over the years, until I started thinking more realistically and honestly the further I got from it. Meeting Ruby Love when my heart was so broken and how that felt, that’s what I never forgot about that night.
That’s the thing that stayed with the picture of it all, like a scene in a movie. That’s what vivid memories look like, movies. All that imagery rattling around my head. I relate a lot of that to the nature of God and God’s power in my head. It goes hand in hand with the moon and lake and sky, and how the moon affected Ruby Love. What Ruby Love did for that party and what the orchard did for his guitar.
Whether you’re desperately scrambling for a karaoke number or seeking an anthem to unite your politically-opposed family this election season, Old Crow Medicine Show’s 2004 hit “Wagon Wheel” has been a safe bet for nearly two decades.
However, despite its widespread appeal, we’ve curated a list of scenarios where this ubiquitous ditty might do more harm than good. Here are five times you should firmly resist the urge to play it:
At the North American Cartographer’s Convention
Suggesting a westward journey through the Cumberland Gap will land a trucker in Johnson City, Tennessee is geographic heresy that will incite blind fury from the map-making community. Johnson City lies east, you directionally-challenged jackwagon. Prepare for fisticuffs.
During Daycare Center Staff Training
Regaling childcare workers with tales of rocking children “any way you feel” in “the wind and the rain” is a surefire way to get your facility’s license revoked.
As the Climactic Closing Argument in the Luciano Crime Family’s RICO Trial
Defending your allegedly innocent client by randomly bursting into a tune about boxcar-hopping and ramblin’ is a strategy that will absolutely undermine their chances of avoiding jail time. Your client is already a flight risk — don’t give them any ideas.
Over the Commlink During a Navy SEAL Covert Op
It turns out that the terrorists can win against an elite force’s meticulously-planned stealth mission when this ill-timed, rousing chorus echoes through the halls of whatever compound they are infiltrating.
At a Funeral for Your Stepdad Who Died Getting Crushed by His Own Station Wagon
You never liked your mom’s third husband Keith, but kicking off your eulogy by cheerfully strumming “Headed down South to the land of the pines” might miss the solemnity mark. Especially since it was an actual wagon wheel that took him.
Greg Hess is a comedy writer and performer in Los Angeles. His work has been featured in The American Bystander, The Onion, Shouts & Murmurs, Points in Case, and he cohosts the hit satirical podcast MEGA.
Old Crow Medicine Show co-founder and frontman Ketch Secor is always busy. In September, Secor and flatpicking master Molly Tuttle co-hosted the Annual IBMA Bluegrass Music Awards, a brief respite from the ongoing national tour Secor and Old Crow are currently on. They hit the road earlier this year after releasing Jubilee, their latest record, celebrating 25 years as a band. With a few recent lineup changes, their energy is still fresh and exciting — and in this exclusive BGS interview, Secor explains that you really just have to see them live to fully understand and appreciate the bit.
This will be the second tour with the current lineup, right? What do you think will be different with touring Jubilee?
Ketch Secor: In typical Old Crow fashion, an 11th-hour lineup change occurred as we were putting the finishing touches on this album. We’ve hired two new players, and that’s Dante’ Pope on drums and piano, and PJ George as a utility player, so with these two additional players we have yet another iteration of Old Crow that has subtle differences from any other one we’ve had before. This kind of thing just makes it fun. That fluidity of the lineup has made it a lot more palatable — it’s still Flagstaff in the fall, but getting to see it with somebody who’s never been before, and getting to share the stage with people who bring out something new in you musically.
I feel like music for the old-time string band – and maybe this is the same for bluegrass – but music is really relational. It’s about who you’re with. I play different with different people. The pitcher isn’t gonna play differently because of who the shortstop is, but in a string band, the fiddler’s following a groove that the banjo sets, and if there’s a great mandolin player with chops then the fiddler is going to weave in and out of something differently.
How did you choose the guest appearances on this album, like Sierra Ferrell and Mavis Staples?
KS: That kind of thing just evolves. Making records in the 21st century, collaborations are what’s on the menu more so than when we were kids. We didn’t think about who was going to be the guests when we were kids. For Sierra, we thought that song needed something, and we realized it was a duet. I’d been sitting on that one for a couple years. I rewrote it as a duet, and we called the best woman to sing on a cock-fighting song — we called out to West Virginia.
Why are collaborations more necessary now?
KS: If I could be frank, it’s because labels are trying to do anything they can to sell albums. It adds to social media platforms. It increases the scope in ways that are much more specific to these times than just making great music. When Lita Ford came out with Ozzy Osbourne, that probably had a different purpose to it than it does today. Independent labels are taking a cue from hip-hop artists who experiment with this all the time. Bluegrass and old-time and traditional music tends to be 10 years behind those types of styles, so it makes sense that nowadays we’re all making collaborative contributions.
Were there any surprising or touching moments working with Willie Watson in the studio again? Was the chemistry there after 12 years?
KS: Yeah, I think that having Willie back is just important to the ethos of Old Crow Medicine Show, and celebrating its 25th anniversary. We’ve been working together since COVID on some things from live streams to concert appearances, and this was sort of the next frontier for Old Crow and Willie in burying the hatchet and making music together. When you’re in a 25-year-old band you get a lot of ex-boyfriends. Hindsight is 20/20, and I just know that nowadays it’s better to be back on stage together.
How has your fiddling changed over the years? What are some of the areas you focus on when you practice? Old-time is known for being scrubby, but there’s a lot more going on there.
KS: Well, it’s changed over the years as I’ve gotten to be a lot better and gutsier as a violin player. I play it harder and stronger and faster than I did when I was 18 when I learned. For 25 or some years it’s been my dance partner. At the quarter century mark as a violin player, I feel like I know my partner well. I know where to take it, where on the neck to go. I know how to get the sounds that I’m looking for.
But I’m not a player who practices. My practice is just playing 95 concerts a year for 25 years and making 15 records in that period of time and being a special guest on 50 other records. I’ve grown up like a plant in the window when it comes to my violin playing. I see where the light is and I’ve grown towards it, and it’s bushier and brighter than it used to be when I was just a little twig. It just keeps growing all the time, but it’s not because I’m changing anything. There’s no additive to the soil.
You play old-time, but do you ever try other genres?
KS: I’ve played a few jazz gigs, but it’s not what I do well. I listen to all manner of songs. As a fiddle player, I like to think about all of the music that I’m channeling into the way I play, and a lot of it is traditional fiddle music, but a lot of it’s not. I feel like there’s Public Enemy and Nirvana and Bosco and the Carter Family, and other things that are not fiddle playing in my playing. But mostly what there is in my fiddle playing is mileage. It’s experience. It’s rust. It’s calcified. That’s the case with people who’ve played music for a lifetime. They get better not because they’re doing something different, but because they’re doing the same thing again and again.
You mentioned that folk music should be topical — not kept in a museum case. Do you think that kind of folk has a special place in the world right now given the political and economic hard times we’ve been seeing?
KS: I think that anybody who’s making genuine art has a reflection of the world around in that work. We the artists are sort of like poetic mirrors of what we see. There’s lot of songs now that reflect the discord, either in a lamentation or in a protest or in just a pure reflection. My music tends to talk about the plight of the people who are most associated with this music, so that can be the people of the Southern Highlands. It can be the hardship of the African American co-inventors of this music. But I’m also a real vessel for global topics, and I say that because when I read the news it’s almost like it starts riding on my back. So I’m thinking about flood waters in Libya and earthquakes in Morocco and school shootings in Nashville. To me they’re all part of a human struggle to find peace in the world.
What change do you hope comes about from songs like “Allegheny Lullaby?” How do people take that sentiment and make it actionable?
KS: That’s a song about a limitation of choice. That’s a matter of equity or inequity. So the equitable solution is: More choice. It’s widening the spectrum of options for people who live in the coal district, and that’s a very doable action item. It’s just a hard thing to do and live the exact same way, without a change in economics, but that’s the story of the American people. We adapt. And so I think the natural adaptation cycle in the Southern Highlands is in flux right now because of some strident efforts to hold it back. The results of those actions are that you got an opioid epidemic, a fentanyl epidemic — so many dysfunctions. I’m looking forward to the people eventually standing up and getting what they need. I wouldn’t put it past the people to get that. They got it before. They unionized in those situations and fought for livable wages, and they can do it again.
You talk a lot about nature, like mountains and feral critters, in your music. Is that an intentional part of folk or where does that come from?
KS: When I think about what made [American music] so rich, I know it’s the land and the soil and the people and the stories. So to evoke the same is just a natural link in the chain forged anew. And that’s all I’m doing. I’m just singing about the rivers that mean something to me when I sing them. I don’t think you’re ever going to get tired of thinking about the Big Sandy River, no matter if it’s clean or dirty. It’s called the Big Sandy, doesn’t that sound like freedom?
What do you hope listeners will take away from this album?
KS: You know, we make music because we’re a live band. We make albums because we’re a live act. Come and see us. If you like this record, go buy a ticket. We’re coming to your town; we have for a quarter of a century. We loved you then, and we love you even more now. And if you hear something on this record you like, then that’s just one more reason to come buy that ticket and see us when we come to your community and make a unique and special community in yours for one night. This is an age-old P.T. Barnum routine. The hat is magic, the ring is heavenly. Once you gaze on what lies behind the curtain, you will be dazzled. That’s where the magic is. The album is a big arrow.
The unofficial theme of the “Biggest Night in Bluegrass” – the 34th Annual IBMA Bluegrass Music Awards, held tonight at the Martin Marietta Center for the Performing Arts in Raleigh, North Carolina – was “Bluegrass Prom,” the colloquial and affectionate nickname given to the awards ceremony by its attendees, honorees, and nominees.
Hosted by Molly Tuttle, who took home three trophies, and Ketch Secor of Old Crow Medicine Show, the three-hour production featured a performance by Bluegrass Music Hall of Fame inductee Sam Bush, songs from each of the night’s Entertainer of the Year nominees – including Sister Sadie paying tribute to Wilma Lee Cooper, another Hall of Fame inductee – touching remembrances of bluegrass forebears Bobby Osborne and Jesse McReynolds, and culminated with Secor, Tuttle and her band Golden Highway, Del McCoury Band, and more leading the crowd in a rousing rendition of “Wagon Wheel.”
In the instrumentalist categories, there were notable first-time wins in two categories, Trey Hensley taking home Guitar Player of the Year – in a field that included both Molly Tuttle and Billy Strings – and Vickie Vaughn, of Della Mae, High Fidelity, and more, receiving the Bass Player of the Year trophy. Kristin Scott Benson took home her sixth Banjo Player of the Year Award, Greg Blake of Special Consensus won his first IBMA award for Male Vocalist of the Year, and the night’s final and most prestigious recognition, Entertainer of the Year, went to Billy Strings, a well-deserved third consecutive win in the category.
See the full list of winners (in bold) from tonight’s IBMA Bluegrass Music Awards, presented by our friends at Yamaha, below:
ENTERTAINER OF THE YEAR:
Appalachian Road Show Billy Strings Del McCoury Band Molly Tuttle & Golden Highway The Po’ Ramblin’ Boys
VOCAL GROUP OF THE YEAR:
Authentic Unlimited Balsam Range Blue Highway Del McCoury Band Sister Sadie
INSTRUMENTAL GROUP OF THE YEAR:
Billy Strings Michael Cleveland & Flamekeeper The Infamous Stringdusters Molly Tuttle & Golden Highway The Travelin’ McCourys
SONG OF THE YEAR: “Blue Ridge Mountain Baby” Artist: Appalachian Road Show Songwriters: Barry Abernathy/Jim VanCleve Label: Billy Blue Records Producer: Appalachian Road Show
“Crooked Tree” Artist: Molly Tuttle & Golden Highway Songwriters: Molly Tuttle/Melody Walker Label: Nonesuch Records Producers: Jerry Douglas and Molly Tuttle
“Heyday” Artist: Lonesome River Band Songwriters: Barry Huchens/Will Huchens Label: Mountain Home Music Company Producer: Lonesome River Band
“Power of Love” Artist: Rick Faris Songwriters: Johnny Colla/Huey Lewis/Christopher Hayes Label: Dark Shadow Recording Producer: Stephen Mougin
ALBUM OF THE YEAR:
Crooked Tree Artist: Molly Tuttle & Golden Highway Label: Nonesuch Records Producer: Jerry Douglas and Molly Tuttle
Lovin’ of the Game Artist: Michael Cleveland Label: Compass Records Producers: Jeff White, Michael Cleveland, and Sean Sullivan
Lowdown Hoedown Artist: Jason Carter Label: Fiddle Man Records Producers: Jason Carter and Brent Truitt
Me/And/Dad Artist: Billy Strings and Terry Barber Label: Rounder Records Producers: Billy Strings and Gary Paczosa
Radio John: The Songs of John Hartford Artist: Sam Bush Label: Smithsonian Folkways Producer: Sam Bush
GOSPEL RECORDING OF THE YEAR: “The Glory Road” Artist: Joe Mullins & The Radio Ramblers Songwriters: Paul Martin/Harry Stinson/Marty Stuart Label: Billy Blue Records Producers: Joe Mullins and Adam McIntosh
“Jordan” Artist: Darin & Brooke Aldridge with Ricky Skaggs, Mo Pitney and Mark Fain Songwriter: Fred Rich Label: Billy Blue Records Producer: Darin Aldridge and Mark Fain
“The Scarlet Red Lines” Artist: Larry Sparks Songwriter: Daniel Crabtree Label: Rebel Records Producer: Larry Sparks
“Take a Little Time for Jesus” Artist: Junior Sisk Songwriter: David Marshall Label: Mountain Fever Records Producers: Junior Sisk and Aaron Ramsey
“Tell Me the Story of Jesus” Artist: Becky Buller with Vince Gill and Ricky Skaggs Songwriter: Fanny Crosby, arrangement by Becky Buller Label: Dark Shadow Recording Producer: Stephen Mougin
INSTRUMENTAL RECORDING OF THE YEAR:
“Contact” Artist: Michael Cleveland with Cody Kilby, Barry Bales, and Béla Fleck Songwriter: Michael Cleveland Label: Compass Records Producer: Jeff White, Michael Cleveland, and Sean Sullivan
“Foggy Morning Breaking” Artist: Alison Brown with Steve Martin Songwriters: Alison Brown/Steve Martin Label: Compass Records Producers: Alison Brown and Garry West
“Gold Rush” Artist: Scott Vestal’s Bluegrass 2022 Songwriter: Bill Monroe Label: Pinecastle Records Producer: Scott Vestal
“Kissimmee Kid” Artist: Jason Carter Songwriter: Vassar Clements Label: Fiddle Man Records Producers: Jason Carter and Brent Truitt
“Scorchin’ the Gravy” Artist: Frank Solivan & Dirty Kitchen Songwriter: Frank Solivan Label: Compass Records Producer: Frank Solivan
NEW ARTIST OF THE YEAR:
Authentic Unlimited East Nash Grass Henhouse Prowlers The Tennessee Bluegrass Band Tray Wellington
COLLABORATIVE RECORDING OF THE YEAR:
“Alberta Bound” Artist: Special Consensus with Ray Legere, John Reischman, Tisha Gagnon, Claire Lynch, Pharis & Jason Romero, Patrick Sauber Songwriter: Gordon Lightfoot Label: Compass Records Producer: Alison Brown
“Big Mon” Artist: Andy Leftwich with Sierra Hull Songwriter: Bill Monroe Label: Mountain Home Music Company Producer: Andy Leftwich
“Foggy Morning Breaking” Artist: Alison Brown with Steve Martin Songwriter: Alison Brown/Steve Martin Label: Compass Records Producer: Alison Brown and Garry West
“For Your Love” Artist: Michael Cleveland with Billy Strings and Jeff White Songwriter: Joe Ely Label: Compass Records Producer: Jeff White, Michael Cleveland, and Sean Sullivan
“From My Mountain (Calling You)” Artist: Peter Rowan with Molly Tuttle and Lindsay Lou Songwriter: Peter Rowan Label: Rebel Records Producer: Peter Rowan
MALE VOCALIST OF THE YEAR:
Greg Blake Del McCoury Danny Paisley Larry Sparks Dan Tyminski
FEMALE VOCALIST OF THE YEAR:
Brooke Aldridge Dale Ann Bradley Jaelee Roberts Molly Tuttle Rhonda Vincent
BANJO PLAYER OF THE YEAR:
Kristin Scott Benson Alison Brown Béla Fleck Ned Luberecki Scott Vestal
BASS PLAYER OF THE YEAR:
Mike Bub Todd Phillips Missy Raines Mark Schatz Vickie Vaughn
FIDDLE PLAYER OF THE YEAR:
Jason Carter Michael Cleveland Stuart Duncan Bronwyn Keith-Hynes Deanie Richardson
RESOPHONIC GUITAR PLAYER OF THE YEAR:
Jerry Douglas Andy Hall Rob Ickes Matt Leadbetter Justin Moses
GUITAR PLAYER OF THE YEAR:
Chris Eldridge Trey Hensley Billy Strings Bryan Sutton Molly Tuttle
MANDOLIN PLAYER OF THE YEAR:
Alan Bibey Jesse Brock Sam Bush Sierra Hull Ronnie McCoury
Photo Credit: Molly Tuttle & Golden Highway by Chelsea Rochelle
It’s halfway through 2023, and Molly Tuttle is having an incredible year. The Grammy-winning artist released her new record — made with her band, Golden Highway — on July 21 via Nonesuch Records. Only days before, Tuttle and Golden Highway were nominated in seven categories at the 34th Annual IBMA Bluegrass Music Awards.
In the middle of her ongoing tour, we caught up with Tuttle and the members of Golden Highway to celebrate her selection as July’s Artist of the Month and to go behind the scenes of making City of Gold. Luckily, it’s easy to make music with friends, and the entire group goes way back. Tuttle says Bronwyn Keith-Hynes (fiddle), Dominick Leslie (mandolin), Shelby Means (bass), and Kyle Tuttle (banjo), have been a part of her musical life for years.
“I’ve known everyone in the band since I was in my late teens, early twenties,” Tuttle explains via video call.
Tuttle and Keith-Hynes attended classes and bluegrass jams together at Berklee College of Music. She met Kyle Tuttle (no relation) at around the age of 17 at an IBMA jam, and met Means while she was in Boston with the all-women string band Della Mae. Tuttle says she and Leslie met as kids, when they would both play the same bluegrass festivals.
“When Molly told me what she was planning, and asked me to join the band and told me who else was going to be in it, I was thinking, ‘I’m already friends with all these people. This is gonna be really cool!’” Means said during our group interview.
When it came time to record City of Gold, the group worked with modern roots music icon Ketch Secor of Old Crow Medicine Show on much of the writing. Tuttle says there’s a definite Old Crow influence on the tracklist, which makes sense given “Down Home Dispensary” is a tune on the record originally written for the group best known for hits like “Wagon Wheel.” Tuttle said she initially worried the song was “too Old Crow” for Golden Highway, but is glad it ended up on the record. She and Secor got “into a good groove,” as she puts it, and churned out the tunes for City of Gold in about six months, often while driving in the car or passing around instruments during jam sessions. At least one track, though, was extremely collaborative. Tuttle, Means, Secor and Melody Walker (formerly of Front Country) all had a hand in finishing the tune.
Jerry Douglas, the iconic resonator guitar player who’s worked with almost every name in the bluegrass industry, produced the album. Tuttle said that whereas she had only a few studio days booked for her previous album, Crooked Tree, the group had nearly two weeks of studio time to work with Douglas this time around. When asked what it was like working with the legend, every member of Golden Highway said they’d had a great experience.
“Working with someone who’s a hero, there’s a lot of baggage that comes along with that,” Kyle Tuttle said. “But he’s the kindest dude. He supported us in a really cool way. It wasn’t hard or intimidating or anything like that. I thought it was easy and fun. Every now and then he’d play on a track with us.”
Whether it was encouraging Golden Highway to take breaks or telling funny jokes, the group agreed that Douglas made sure everyone was comfortable and having a good time. Keith-Hynes said Douglas told the band that NASCAR drivers walk slowly to their cars to slow down their nervous systems, encouraging the musicians to do the same on walks between takes.
“Jerry has been a huge musical hero to all of us,” Leslie said. “Getting to spend all that time in the studio was the thrill of a lifetime. We all knew we were in really good hands with him musically going in, but what I didn’t realize was how good of a hang Jerry is. He [was] filling up any moment of dead air with a great story to break the ice.”
On tour, the band’s camaraderie is just as apparent as it is in the studio, or as it was in the group’s music video for “Next Rodeo.” After Tuttle catches her no-good, fictitious cowboy boyfriend cheating, the band collectively decides to kidnap him and give him what for — although, of course, all in good fun. They say they haven’t (yet) had to kidnap anybody on tour, but that doesn’t mean the on-the-road lifestyle isn’t taxing. Kyle Tuttle said he missed a connecting flight the night before the album release show and was up all night driving to make it in time.
“I was checking into the hotel and the sun was already up,” Kyle Tuttle said. “[There was] orange sky and some palm trees. I thought, ‘Damn it’s pretty. I sure wish I was in bed right now.’”
While it’s a good time to be in Golden Highway, it’s also just a great time to be in bluegrass, the group says. All agreed that bluegrass is having a moment, and were happy to report multiple sold-out festivals with lineups that include country, folk, bluegrass, blues, and other roots artists. Means said it’s incredible to see bluegrass acts opening for bigger country artists, because it means the genre is a real selling point.
“I wonder if it’s a backlash to how crazy everything is with technology,” Keith-Hynes thinks aloud. “People want something real. Nothing is more real than people playing acoustic music on acoustic instruments.”
Tuttle said the internet has also really leveled the playing field, making more music accessible to all kinds of fans. Golden Highway has had its own viral moments on TikTok, the short-form video social media app. Earlier this year Tuttle posted a 2022 Halloween clip that has now hit nearly one million views; inspired by a track on the new album, “Alice in the Bluegrass,” the band members are each dressed as a character from Alice in Wonderland, with Tuttle starring as the Queen of Hearts.
“It took people by surprise to see this bluegrass band playing Jefferson Airplane in full Alice in Wonderland dress,” Tuttle said.
As for what’s ahead, the group says they hope to see everyone out on the road. Means shared that the band will announce more dates soon, and that they’ll be touring both coasts after the annual IBMA Bluegrass Music Awards in September. Tuttle and Golden Highway are currently nominated for Entertainer of the Year, Instrumental Group of the Year, Song of the Year and Album of the Year. Tuttle is also nominated for Collaborative Recording of the Year, Female Vocalist of the Year, and Guitar Player of the Year. Bronwyn Keith-Hynes is nominated for Fiddle Player of the Year.
City of Gold can be streamed online wherever you listen to music. Check out more of our Artist of the Month coverage of Molly Tuttle & Golden Highway here and here.
Over the course of her lifelong career in bluegrass, Americana and roots music, we’ve had the pleasure of interviewing and connecting with Grammy Award winner Molly Tuttle on quite a few occasions. When we selected Tuttle and her band, Golden Highway, as our Artist of the Month, we wanted to open a space to discuss her career and music in a fresh light – and we could think of no better context for such a conversation than Basic Folk.
We asked Basic Folk podcast hosts Cindy Howes and Lizzie No – who featured Tuttle on the show once prior, in 2022 – to sit back down with the International Folk Award and Americana Award winner to discuss her brand new album, City of Gold, and to dig deeper into the creative output of this buzzworthy guitar player, songwriter, and business woman.
Watch for the full podcast episode to drop later this month, but for now enjoy these excerpts from Cindy and Lizzie’s conversation with Molly Tuttle.
Cindy Howes: Molly Tuttle, welcome to Basic Folk again. It’s so great to have you back on the podcast.
Molly Tuttle: Thank you so much for having me back. It’s great to be here with you guys.
CH: Before we start our interview, I want to set the tone for our conversation. Molly Tuttle is being highlighted as Bluegrass Situations’ Artist of the Month, which is so awesome. The tone of our interview today is LYLAS. Do you know what LYLAS is?
Lizzie No:It’s spelled L-Y-L-A-S.
MT: LYLAS. Okay. I don’t know that.
LN: What it means is: “Love you like a sister.”
CH: Oh yeah. So we are total LYLAS. This is like a fun trip to the mall. This is like a really fun cruise around the harbor with your gal pals.
MT: Oh my gosh, that’s so fun. Well, it’s perfect because I’m actually in a hotel outside of Missoula. And there’s a strip mall nearby. So shopping has been on my mind today. Great.
CH: We’ll all get mani pedis together.
LN: Yes. French tip.
CH: So, when approaching the writing on City of Gold, you asked yourself, “How do I tell my story through bluegrass?” Which I can relate to, as somebody who’s sort of tried to distance themselves from folk music for a really long time. And now I am fully leaning into it. So, I take [it as] you asking that question of yourself, like “How can I fit my Molly Tuttle-ness into a world that can be rigid, patriarchal, and maybe different from what you stand for.” So how true is that? And how have these songs helped you take control of the bluegrass narrative and tradition?
MT: I think that’s something I’ve always kind of struggled with. I remember when I first started writing songs, I just thought, “I don’t know how to write a bluegrass song.” I can write a song, but they never ended up sounding like bluegrass to me and I just didn’t feel like my story fit into the bluegrass narrative of the songs that I grew up singing.
I always loved songwriters like Hazel Dickens, who wrote bluegrass songs from a woman’s perspective, wrote songs about the struggles that she had as a woman in the music industry and as a working woman, and songs about workers’ rights and things she believed in. I grew up with two really strong role models, Laurie Lewis and Kathy Kallick, out in the Bay Area. I remember early on I would go out to [Kathy Kallick’s] house and she would make me tea and listen to my songs. She always told me that when she was first getting started writing bluegrass songs, she kind of felt the same way as me. Like, maybe her story didn’t belong in the genre. But she met Bill Monroe, and he encouraged her, “Don’t try to write a song that sounds like a song I would have written, write a song from your own perspective.”
So she wrote a song called “Broken Tie” about her parents getting a divorce. She said every time she was at a festival with Bill Monroe, he specifically requested that song. That was an inspiring story to me. But when I started writing songs for Crooked Tree, it was suddenly like a floodgate opened. I think I just found my people to write with, found my groove, and ended up with a collection of songs that kind of told my story, [told] about things I believed in, and [told] my family history and personal experiences. And then other songs that were just, you know, from a woman’s perspective, or from a perspective that I resonate with.
For [City of Gold], it was fun to kind of continue that and also expand it to be songs that I felt like were inspired by my band members, or inspired by experiences we’d had on the road. This felt more like a collective vision in a way.
LN: Okay, let’s talk about Crooked Tree. The title track from your last record was partly inspired by your experience living with alopecia. You’ve said that as a kid you would wear hats and then wigs, and then you learned to talk about your wig. Eventually, you started to get more comfortable going without. Now that you’re touring with Golden Highway a ton, you sometimes take your wig off when you play that song, which is such a powerful moment of joy, courage, and vulnerability. As a performer, I can relate to those moments where you bring a little bit extra of yourself and you share a part of yourself that you might normally keep private. How do you get to that right mood? How do you gauge if the crowd is like the right crowd to share about your alopecia experience?
MT: It’s also based on how I’m feeling. I took off my wig a few times last year. But I didn’t do it as much as maybe I wanted to, or maybe I should have, just because I wasn’t always sure what to say. I’ve had so many experiences of trying to explain alopecia to people and they still think I’m sick or still feel bad for me. And it’s so hard sometimes to put it in words that aren’t going to bring the mood down at the show, you know, I want people to be having a good time. I want it to be this fun, inspiring moment, not a moment where people can go, “I feel so bad for you.”
Recently, I performed and told my whole story [for] a keynote speech at this alopecia conference out in Denver, Colorado. I think that was such an important step for me. Just getting to share my story and reflect on the pain of growing up having this really visible difference, but also like, the joy and why it’s so important to me to share that with others and share the message that it’s okay to be different. It’s okay to be a “Crooked Tree.” This last weekend, we played in Michigan, and I did take off my wig and I felt like I finally nailed what I said and the perfect mood. Everyone was cheering and it was just a moment of celebration. I think I’m gonna just continue doing that more and more, but I find that it’s so helpful for me to check in with the alopecia community and feel that support from other people who know exactly how I feel. That makes me feel confident to share my message with the world and maybe sometimes be like, “I don’t care how it’s received, maybe I’m not sure how it’s gonna be received, but I’m going to do it anyway.” That just comes with time. And I guess I’ve had to grow kind of a thick skin. It used to be a lot harder for me.
CH: The new album, City of Gold, the songs were mostly written by you and your partner Ketch Secor of Old Crow Medicine Show. What is the writing process like with you and Ketch? Like, how do you bring out the best in each other’s writing?
MT: We’re both quite different writers. He’s very fast paced. He throws out ideas and lines. [While I’ll] think it over. I’m kind of more internal. I think about the lines. We balance each other out in a way where I might think a lot about what exactly we are saying, and then he’s good. If I get stuck on something, [he can] kind of keep it moving. But our writing process is always different. It’s nice, because we’re together a lot. So we can write in a lot of different circumstances. Some of the songs we wrote in the car, like on a road trip, just throwing lines back and forth. Maybe he’d be driving, I’d be writing the lines on my phone. Maybe we’re talking about something at home or listening to music and sitting down with instruments, kind of more the conventional way of writing. I find it so hard to fit writing into my life, especially when I’m on tour and I’m on the go so much. [It’s so nice that] we got into a groove with it, where we were just doing it all the time, and it felt more naturally intertwined into my day-to-day life.
LN: The bluegrass community was a huge source of inspiration for you. Of this record, you said, “One of the things I love most about this music is how so much of the audience plays music as well.” And that you hope that people will sing along and maybe play those songs with their friends, almost like we’re all a part of one great big family. Now, how do you walk the line of making a sophisticated, bitchin’ bluegrass record, while keeping it simple enough for others who might not be musical geniuses to play along?
MT: The beauty of bluegrass music is that most of the songs have like three or four chords. You can play them really simple, you can just strum along and play as slow as you want. Beginner bluegrass musicians might go to a jam of people at the same level as them and play these songs in a lot simpler of a way. Then, as you get better and better you can play it faster, you can play more complicated solos, you can really play with the dynamics. There are infinite ways to make the songs more and more complex and sophisticated as you progress in your musical abilities.
On City of Gold, I did kind of stray away from that “three chords and the truth” format a little more than I did on my last record. It was fun, because we were working on these arrangements as a band, which was a lot different process than I’ve ever done before in the studio. I’ve always gone in with my songs and gathered musicians that I don’t normally play with on the road – studio musicians. I have a lot of my bluegrass heroes on the record, and you’re kind of learning the songs and playing them by a chart, but for this album, we really took the time to develop more complicated arrangements and add in new sections that stray away from the key. These songs are a little less accessible to the standard bluegrass jam. But I think there’s still a few that people could learn to play at any level.
• • •
CH: Okay, now we’re going to talk specifically about some of the songs on the new album, City of Gold, starting with the first song, “El Dorado.” Right now I am rewatching Deadwood, so I am super into this song. As a kid, you took a field trip to Coloma, the site of California’s first gold strike and it was the first time you heard about the legendary El Dorado, the City of Gold. In the song you sing, “El Dorado, city of gold, city of fools.” You said, “Just like gold fever, music has always captivated me.” So who are the characters in the song – like gold rush Kate from the Golden State – and how do you connect with these fools?
MT: I wrote the song with Ketch and I don’t know [exactly] how it came about… [But I told him,] when I was a kid, every school would send the kids off to gold country. You’d go to different places. The person who taught my class how to pan for gold, for some reason I have like a very vivid memory of him. He had this gold nugget on a chain around his neck and he showed us how to pan for gold. He was like, “You might find a flake of gold, but if you find an actual nugget of gold, we’re not gonna let you keep that, you have to give it back to us.” [Laughs] I remember being like, I really want to find like a nugget of gold and just squirrel it away and not tell this guy about it. So that kind of stuck with me.
CH: Literally every kid in your class thought that!
MT: Yeah! Like, we’re gonna strike it rich at this goldmine!
We were kind of doing some research on Coloma and found that it’s in El Dorado County. That seemed like a good place to start with a song just inspired by that character, but also thinking about all these characters who came together and we’re all trying to strike it rich. I feel like that is such a theme in our society. You know, we have these like little, mini gold rushes – everyone being like, “This is the next big thing. We’re all going to make so much money off of this.” But for me, I didn’t get into music thinking this is gonna make me rich, but it is something I’ve chased after for many years now.
CH: What do you think is the current gold rush? Is it dispensaries? Vape stores?
MT: The thing that just popped into my head, it’s a couple years old, maybe like a year past its prime, is crypto currency. I think I don’t know where that stands. But I think we’re a little bit past that.
• • •
LN: The second track on this album is “Where Did All the Wild Things Go?” Which is a song about gentrification’s corrosive effect on the character of once-vibrant neighborhoods nationwide – which I can very much relate to living in Brooklyn. I’d love to hear about your neighborhood where you live now. Is there a specific tradition or neighborhood institution or restaurant or store that is so special about your neighborhood? That you’re passionate about preserving? And how are you and your neighbors trying to keep your neighborhood weird and wild?
MT: Well, my neighborhood is East Nashville, and before I got there, it was totally different. It’s just in constant flux. It really changed so much when we had the tornado hit [in 2020] that took out tons of the local businesses that never returned. A lot of people moved out. The pandemic just kind of sped all of that up. Coming out of lockdown I was like, “Whoa, this is so different. Like, where do I even live anymore?”
I don’t really know how to answer how I’m trying to preserve it. I feel like I’m living in a different city every time I come back from tour, basically. Nashville’s always changing, just constantly growing, so many businesses are moving here. I do feel like there’s this constant sense of everyone missing the old Nashville. I don’t think that I was even around for the like “old Nashville” as many people who grew up in the city know it. So maybe I’m part of the problem in a way, really. I moved there just eight years ago…
• • •
CH: The next thing we want to talk about is “San Joaquin,” a new, old-style railroad song. There’s such a romance surrounding trains in song. You’ve always loved singing about trains. There is that long tradition of trains and folk songs. What do you think it is about trains that have captured artists’ hearts since they’ve been around?
MT: I think as artists, especially as musicians, we kind of have this roving spirit, where we want to see the world, we want to travel. I feel like a lot of musicians, myself included, we romanticize trains as this early way of getting across the country. And still, you’ll see musicians from time to time doing a train tour. Of course you have buskers who might hop on a train across the country and play all over the place. Now, I’ve never done that, but I think it’s just this thing that’s romanticized, especially by musicians. I’ve always loved singing [train songs]. There’s so many bluegrass train songs, but I didn’t know a specifically California bluegrass train song, so I felt like it was time to write one.
CH: What’s your favorite train song?
MT: That’s such a good question. The first one that popped into my head was Larry Sparks’ song, “I’d Like To Be A Train.” He doesn’t just want to ride a train. He wants to be a train.
• • •
CH: The song “Next Rodeo” you say, “…Reflects the miles I’ve put in with my band, Golden Highway, which has clocked in well over 100 shows.” That’s in the press release, so it’s probably 200+ shows at this point, and we’ll give a shout out to Bronwyn Keith-Hynes. Let me know if I’m mispronouncing anyone’s name–
MT: We have so many nicknames for Bronwyn in the band. We saw a YouTube comment on one of our videos where I introduce her and someone said, “What’s the fiddle player’s name? I couldn’t catch that.” Someone wrote “Ron Winky Pies.” We often call her Ron Winky Pies.
CH: Yes, that sounds right. Well, she is a hell of a fiddler. Also Dominick Leslie on the mandolin, Shelby Means on bass, and Kyle Tuttle, who is playing banjo. Can you talk about the ease and connection you feel with Golden Highway? What’s the feeling that you get when you’re on stage – and, when did it start gelling for everyone?
MT: After I made Crooked Tree, first I started thinking about who I wanted to take the songs on the road with. On the record I had the band name Golden Highway, but I didn’t actually have a band yet, so it’s kind of funny. I did it in reverse a little bit.
Dominick played on the whole record. I called him and I was like, “Hey, do you want to play with me next year?” And he said yes. So I had one band member. I was just trying to fill in the rest of the band thinking like, “Who’s gonna bring the most personality to this project? Who’s gonna bring a unique voice?” The whole record was all about being who you are, [about] individuality. I wanted to choose people who I felt like their personalities really shine through – and their music and their playing and their stage presence.
I got my dream band. We’ve all been friends in one way or another for like the past decade, so it was a cool experience. I’ve never had that before where I have this band in my head, I imagine the people playing together, and then it happens and it’s better than I could have imagined. It felt really cool. In the past I’ve had wonderful bandmates, but it’s never been this kind of brainchild where I’m trying to concoct my dream bluegrass band that will have this unique personality to it.
We all got together and everyone already knew each other and already played together in different configurations just through the bluegrass scene over the years. It all kind of started gelling really quickly. Our first couple shows we’re just kind of like, “Wow, this is something special!”
• • •
CH: We do want to ask a question about Jerry Douglas, who co-produced the record with you and is the master of the Dobro. How has your relationship with him as a producer shaped how you think about your own recordings?
MT: On this record, especially on “Stranger Things,” I just felt like I needed to hear him play on it. We had this funny thing we’d say in the studio, “Make us AKUS” – make us Alison Krauss and Union Station – cause they’re like our heroes. [Laughs]
When we got to that song we’re like, “We need that iconic Jerry Douglas dobro part.” It’s such a spooky song and he just knows how to accompany a song [like that] so well and that’s part of why I felt like he was the dream producer. He understands the musicianship side of things. He’s such a master of his instrument, but then he also has this deep connection to songs and vocalists and just knows exactly what to play behind the vocal.
That’s something I really kind of leaned on him for, just getting the best performance out of everyone, instrumentally. He has just the greatest ear. He hears a pitchy note here or like a wrong note there and really pushes everyone to do their best performance, but then he also has this side of him that’s extremely tasteful and he knows how to get behind a song and not overpower it.
LN: I want to talk about “Down Home Dispensary,” which is such a fun song. I’m fascinated by the way you’ve framed this issue, which is very hot in the news… legalizing marijuana. The way it’s framed in “Down Home Dispensary” is like a very fun political pitch about how Southern culture can evolve and is evolving. Why did you feel it was really important to frame this as a “Down Home Dispensary?” And do you notice an evolution in the way that Southerners and your audiences, more broadly, are relating to marijuana use?
MT: I think like the South is still the holdout. It’s not legal in most places in the South, but I feel like it’s become almost a bipartisan issue, where people are getting behind it. We play it and we’ve been playing it live and people are cheering no matter who they are. They’re like cheering for the “Down Home Dispensary,” because it’s this thing that’s become normalized in our society, but it still is technically not legal. That was one that Ketch and I originally wrote to be an Old Crow [Medicine Show] song and then they didn’t cut it. It’s so much fun!
CH: It’s sort of like a book end to “Big Backyard.” The world can be your down home dispensary, your backyard. You can make home and freedom anywhere.
MT: I thought it was like a funny angle to to go about it. You’re talking to a politician and just being like, you should really do this, because you’re gonna make a lot of money like this is in your best interest.
LN: How has living and working in Tennessee changed how you see your responsibilities as a feminist artist?
MT: I’m confronted with things in Tennessee that I never imagined would happen. Where I live, abortion is not legal in Tennessee at all, it was one of the first states to basically ban it for any reason.
That was really like a dark moment in our history as a country to just be going backwards completely. It’s something that I’ve feared since I was a teenage girl, like, what if this got taken away? And what if I couldn’t make decisions for my body? I can’t [access this healthcare] in the state where I live, I could maybe travel somewhere else if needed, but who knows if [someone else] could. They could make it more and more impossible to have access to this. It just breaks my heart for all the people who now don’t have that choice and don’t have the privilege of being able to go somewhere where they can get this health service.
[When writing “Goodbye Mary”] I was thinking about a story my mom told me growing up of my grandmother, whose name was Mary. She had a friend who was in an abusive relationship and she wanted to leave this relationship, but she ended up getting pregnant. So my grandmother and her friend, she would push her friend down the stairs, they would try anything to get rid of the baby. It’s a really, really dark story. But it’s somewhere that we’re going again, as a nation. When we were writing it, we were talking about my grandmother. That’s not something that happened to my grandmother personally, but it’s something that her generation had to deal with.
LN: I think it’s so important to link abortion access to women’s experiences of intimate partner violence. A lot of people who claim to be pro-life don’t want to admit that access to abortion is also access to freedom and the ability to leave an abusive situation. It’s just one more way of actually having freedom in your own body. That’s a really powerful story. It’s just so important, I think, for musicians to be talking about this issue, especially those of us that live in Nashville or are working in country and folk and bluegrass.
MT: It’s really scary to talk about, I was so scared to put that song on my record. Jerry was the one who was like, “We have to.” It was his favorite song. He was like, “If we’re gonna record one song, it needs to be this one.” And I was like, “I’m scared.”
This issue is one I care about so deeply. And it’s one of the most important social issues to me. But it’s also like, you get kind of the most backlash for it.
LN: Have you played this live yet?
MT: We haven’t, no. We’ve worked it up. And once the record is out, I think we will start playing it. But we haven’t tried it live yet.
LN: You got this.
MT: Yeah, totally. Thank you.
LN: Thank you. Thank you for this telling this story. I think that the bluegrass community needs to hear it and the world needs to hear it. I think it’s really important.
• • •
(Editor’s Note: This conversation has been abridged and lightly edited for flow and grammar. Cindy Howes’ and Lizzie No’s full Basic Folk conversation featuring Molly Tuttle will be available next week on BGS – or wherever you get podcasts.)
The queen returns and she’s kicking ass and taking names. Molly Tuttle’s new video for the single “Next Rodeo” debuted last week, and with it comes an album announcement from the multi-IBMA-Award and Grammy-winning flatpicker extraordinaire.
A film by Edgar Evin, the “Next Rodeo” video finds Molly & Golden Highway (comprised of Bronwyn Keith-Hynes on fiddle, Dominick Leslie on mandolin, Kyle Tuttle on banjo, Shelby Means on bass, and Jordan Perlsan on drums) getting even with a cheating ex — complete with kidnapping, duct tape, and a super-spicy helping of “Goodbye Earl” vibes.
Tuttle’s new album, City of Gold, drops on July 21 with Nonesuch Records. Each track was co-written with Old Crow Medicine Show’s Ketch Secor and co-produced with bluegrass legend Jerry Douglas.
“When I was a kid we took a field trip to Coloma, California, to learn about the gold rush,” Tuttle said in a statement, revealing the inspiration behind the record. “I’ll never forget the dusty hills and the grizzled old miner who showed us the gold nugget around his neck—just like gold fever, music has always captivated me and driven me to great lengths to explore its depths.”
Songs include spellbinding tales about gold miners, fortune tellers, love and loss and a fast-changing world — as well as a reimagining of Alice in Wonderland set in the backwoods of Kentucky. City of Gold is a follow-up to 2022’s Crooked Tree, a beloved LP that won the Grammy Award for Best Bluegrass Album. Tuttle is also the first woman to win the IBMA’s Guitar Player of the Year award and a member of the First Ladies of Bluegrass — so you won’t want to miss her new release.
Photo Credit: Chelsea Rochelle
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