Swedish Singer-Songwriter Sarah Klang Brings ‘Beautiful Woman’ Stateside

I meet Swedish performer and singer-songwriter Sarah Klang in the glorious maximalist backstage area at Nashville’s the Blue Room before her first-ever Music City show in mid-January. She’s cozy on the couch, a tin of pouched nicotine by her side, a hippo skull on the coffee table in front of us, and her brand new album, Beautiful Woman (out February 7) on our minds. The first thing I notice – besides her beautiful tattoos and the shimmering gemstone stud on one of her teeth – is her gaudy and gorgeous red-white-and-blue acrylic nails. Complete with rhinestones and glitter.

To Klang, the country aesthetic is the “coolest,” and in her part of the world she’s seen as something of a country queen. Her work across her discography varies greatly in genres and sonics, including folk, indie, pop, Americana, and so much more. But Beautiful Woman, which was produced by Eric D. Johnson (Fruit Bats, Bonny Light Horseman) doesn’t feel like Klang is just putting on rootsiness because it’s “cool” or “in” or trending. These are sonic spaces she knows well and strides through with ease.

Beautiful Woman boasts bold and brash moments that feel like Adele covering The SteelDrivers alongside tender story songs that could have almost been pulled from the catalogs of country queens this side of the Atlantic like Loretta Lynn and Dolly Parton. Danceable tracks, finger-picked ballads, and honest lyrics speak to impactful issues of motherhood, agency, feminism, embodiment – and so much more – but still feel light and joyful, leaning forward in the beat and finding hope in the melancholic.

Catching her debut Nashville performance at the Blue Room felt a bit momentous, though Klang seemed remarkably chill and relaxed, on and off stage. She and collaborator Theo Stocks (who also helps record and produce her projects) performed in duet, with lush reverbs and simple backing percussion tracks to a rapt audience. An audience who knew they were lucky to have Klang on this “side of the pond.”

Before the show, we dove into Beautiful Woman, speaking about the death of genre, choosing your own joy, always wanting more banjos, and so much more.

Do you see what you do as roots music? How do you place your own music within roots or folk or Americana? Your music has so many things – it’s got moments of grandeur, it’s got moments of subtlety, it’s got indie, it’s got pop, it’s got a little bit of everything. But I wonder how you identify it.

Sarah Klang: That’s sort of a really hard question. I always feel it’s a little bit like I don’t really know the genres. So, mostly when I put out my albums, afterwards people will review them and they will tell me what genre it is and I will be like, “Yeah, yeah! Mhmm, that’s what it is.” Because I don’t really think about it.

I mean, I listen to so much– random indie, folk, Americana, all those things that you mentioned. And I’m introduced to iconic classical things mainly through Theo [Stocks], my guitarist that I make albums with, and also Eric [D. Johnson]. Like a very normal thing in the studio would be that they would say, “Oh, this is very Kris Kristofferson-ish.” And I would be like, “Could you play it for me?” And then they play the song, and I’m like, “Okay!”

I don’t really have a special aim for where I’m going, because I don’t have any roots in anything. Really. I know what I like. I know the feeling [of what] I’m after. I guess the sentimental [and the] bittersweet, those always end up in some sort of Americana thing.

If it’s not the genre, or style, or the aesthetic that you’re going for – or that you’re following – it sounds to me like you’re following the songs themselves and the feeling you’re trying to evoke.

Yes. I mean, it’s just like an imprinted thing in my brain, “What sounds do I like?” It has always been like that, really. I don’t really play any instruments anymore. I used to play the guitar and the piano, but now I don’t. We’ve been here [in Nashville] for seven days and had sessions every day and Theo knows very well how to describe [the sounds]. He’s kind of like my interpreter. How do you say it? My interpreter? When it comes to melodies and shorts [takes], because someone at the session could play me a bit and I’ll be like “Hmmm?” And Theo will say, “It’s the last short. She doesn’t want that last short. Let’s go with that instead.” He understands.

I think I just have quite a small range of melodies that I like. I mean, my songs are kind of similar, how they are made. The aesthetic of country music has always felt like that’s the only way to go. That’s the only aesthetic that really looks cool, you know? When I started to dress up in country-ish things in Sweden, people were like, “Okay, well she makes country music.” That’s how far they would go. So in Sweden I’m often categorized and called the country queen of Sweden. I get a little bit nervous about that, because I know so little about country music and you know that everybody has such strong opinions about it.


What’s funny to me is even with how strong of opinions people have about country and what it is, it’s always in the eye of the beholder.

I’ve obviously been listening a lot – maybe not classic country, whatever that is – but I mean, I’ve been listening to Kurt Vile, Kevin Morby, Sharon Van Etten, you know, those very big country rock people for a long time. I think that is my biggest influence, really. Then we take that and Theo and Eric on this album, who are just very nerdy in music, they put their spin on it.

But for me, it’s not important to me. Where this album lands, in which genre – I couldn’t care less. But, I think that’s why I started having a western aesthetic. ‘Cause it’s the coolest part, I think. I was like, “Okay, I’m gonna start a solo project. Where do I want to be? What’s cool?”

That, probably. [Laughs]

You’re talking about collaborating with Theo and Eric and it sounds like having that trust and having that rapport is really important to getting the music where you wanted to get it. When I listen through and I hear the banjo moments and the really rootsy and Americana moments, trying to connect the dots, how much of that came from Eric producing?

I asked for that specifically! I mean, if it were up to me, I would say, “More banjo! Put banjo on everything!” ‘Cause that makes everything a jam.

But the boys are more tasteful when it comes to that. When [Eric] played, I think I asked him to try and play on like every song – and not because I wanted to be a “diddly doo” out there, but just because that’s my vibe. I mean, when someone plays on a banjo, there is nothing more tearjerking.

Of course, “Last Forever” jumped out at me for that quality. That was the track from Beautiful Woman that we premiered on BGS. I think it’s my favorite song on the record. But there are so many moments that feel like you’re a genre shapeshifter. And I think that that’s the time we’re in too, genre’s dead. Even while we get more and more and more genre names every year, it feels like genre’s dead.

For me, it’s probably a good thing that it is. That I’m not locked in a genre. I don’t think I’m ever gonna have to be like, “Okay guys, I’m breaking free from this [genre.]” I don’t have to do like a Miley Cyrus thing – “look at my new clothes!” – because I wear everything and that’s nice because I think I’m gonna keep on producing albums as long as I can, and I would like to not be stuck if I were to start feeling this [genre] is boring.

I mean, I’m a huge house fan. I love dance music. When I was a teenager, I mostly listened to weird party drinking music from the UK. I always wanted to make a club album. So, hopefully I could just like sneak over there. When the time’s right. [Laughs]

Another song that jumped out at me as feeling really rootsy is “Childhood.” Not only because of the aesthetic of the song, but the storytelling of it and the nostalgia in it. Something about it feels kind of theatrical to me, too, and I think country is so theatrical.

Yeah, it’s very dramatic. I think when I’m making a song, I feel like “more is more” and if you are going in a certain direction, just go all-in and don’t cringe. Because then it’s just going to end up in some halfway world.

For me, with “Childhood” I was like, “Oh, is this song too nice? Is it too sweet?” Like, no! It’s great. It’s a great song. You just have to go all the way with the feelings. Because then if you don’t, I don’t think you’re going to reach the point you wanted to reach.

Many of my melodies, when I write, I ask myself or Theo or Eric, “Is this too pop-y? Does it sound too much like yada yada yada? Is this a rip off?” And they’re, “Let’s go for it!” You just go straight into that vibe and feeling.

Our music goes all the way into the feeling without hesitating if it might be too much. If you are driving your car, you want to listen to Tom Petty. And he wasn’t like, “Oh, I’m gonna write a song that is making people feel free… but it can’t be too much!” [Laughs]

“I want a driving song, but for 35 miles an hour.”

No! [Laughs] Pedal to the metal.

The overarching concepts that the album is talking about, I think what some people, especially in the U.S., would think these are deep topics – feminism, womanhood, gender and gender roles. But I found it interesting that even with these subjects, the music still feels joyful, it feels like it’s looking forward, it feels like it leans forward – in the beat, literally and figuratively. But, it doesn’t feel like cotton candy, and it doesn’t feel like you’re minimizing anything. Can you talk a little bit about that?

I mean, that makes me so happy that you felt that way. I’ve done interviews about this album in Sweden, with women, and they’re like, “Sarah, you do know that you are a beautiful woman now, right? And I’m like, that’s not the fucking point! As if I were singing it, meaning that that was the point. Maybe I thought when I was younger that that was a goal, but it’s not now.

I just want to write whatever comes to mind, and since English is not my first language, I have to write it very straight and simple. Like, “This is what happened, period.” I don’t really have the energy or time to hide the message. That is not my thing. Some people are great with that, leaving clues. I just write words – it’s also like, I’m busy I need to write the lyrics now! [Laughs]

I always ask my friend when I’ve done an album, “What is the catchphrase for this album? What would you say now when you heard it?” So, for VIRGO she was like, “This is your sex album.” And Mercedes, “This is your pregnancy album, obviously.” But this one, she was like, “I think this is a celebration of girlhood, period.” And I was like, “Yep, that’s perfect.” I’ll just use that. Because I obviously just collect songs. Over a period of time, and then I feel, well now it’s done. And I don’t write an album after a theme.

One of the things I love about the album is that it ends on “I Have Everything.” I like that that’s the way that you’re putting a punctuation mark on the album. Right now, I’m really worn out by attention economies, consumption, consumerism, and like, “buying our happiness.” I was really struck by that song. I love having it at the end; it feels like you are not just talking to us, your listeners, but you’re also talking to yourself. So I wanted to ask you about the song and about the placement of it in the sequence.

I think I wrote it to myself. Like, “Listen! Stop being a complete asshole all the time!” It’s annoying, but I’ve learned – and it’s nice, but it’s hard to talk about it without it sounding so cringey and boring – but the only thing that makes you happy is to take walks outside, be with your family, eat right, and take care of yourself. And that is boring, but it’s the truth. I always felt that people who said, “I wake up every morning and tell myself five things that I’m grateful for–” and I’m like, “Okay… that’s weird.” [Laughs]

If you do that, you will probably feel better. If you are nice to people around you, you will probably feel better. If you’re nice to yourself. I mean, grown up people have been telling me [this] all my life. During my 20s, through periods where I was just unhinged and didn’t feel right. They were like, “Well, maybe if you took a little better care of yourself and didn’t party so much and spent time with your family, you would feel better.” And I was like, “Listen, it’s more than that.”

Yeah, like I am so deep. [Laughs] My traumas are so deep! You have no idea! I’m a fuck up. And then, turns out you’re not. That’s a nice thing about getting a little bit older, you just know, “I’m gonna be fine.” And it’s also my responsibility to make that happen.

Every time somebody had ever told me that “joy is a choice” and “happiness is a choice,” I didn’t realize at first that what they meant was joy or happiness that you construct for yourself isn’t fake.

No! And it doesn’t undermine your sad parts. Like, that is always going to be there. Don’t worry. I think so many of us are just melancholic people. I mean, people have had worse experiences than I’ve had and are so chill and so fine.

I think happiness is definitely something you can work on and give to yourself, and it’s not like a miracle.


Photo Credit: Fredrika Eriksson

Into the Squishy Middle: Humbird Celebrates Being Wrong on ‘Right On’

When I first heard Right On, the new album from Humbird, (the moniker for Minnesota-based singer-songwriter Siri Undlin), I thought immediately of Jason Molina and Magnolia Electric Co. There’s an emotional rawness in the production paired with a choral background vocal style on songs like “Fast Food” that reflects a Midwestern landscape to my ears. Imagine a million ears of corn singing to nobody in the blazing heat of summer, right beside a sprawling concrete strip mall.

“Quilted miles of iron and wheat / does it count, if it just repeats?” Undlin sings.

I had the privilege of talking to Undlin over the phone about her new album, while she was at home in Minnesota and I was in a parking lot outside of a Barnes & Noble somewhere in Maryland. The first thing I asked was if she was familiar with Molina’s work, and much to my surprise, she was not. So, I will have to assume that what I heard as historical reference is merely a shared landscape of influence and delicious, melancholy songwriting.

Throughout her new album Right On, Humbird explores the human desire to retreat into ease, safety, and ignorance, rather than put oneself at risk of being wrong. Undlin begins this exploration with the experience of heartbreak, but quickly zooms out to include topics of cultural conflict, destruction of natural ecosystems, societal priorities, and gun violence. All the while, these songs ask us not to know the answers, but to merely be willing to ask the questions.

On “Child of Violence,”she sings: “I could be a break in the chain / you could be a break in the chain / you could be a piece of the change / When you talk about it call it by it’s name…”

I have been a fan of Humbird ever since I saw her performance at the Mile of Music Festival in Appleton, Wisconsin, this past summer and I was thrilled to get to interview her about this album.

Central to this record is a kind of celebration of being wrong. Can you speak to the specific benefits of being wrong and what being wrong means to you?

Siri Undlin: I find that there is a carefulness and reservedness, a real fear of being wrong, that often gets in the way of important conversations, and prevents people from trying to learn and do better. The reality is that sometimes you’re wrong, but you still have a responsibility to show up and be a part of things.

Ah, that makes sense. So on the title track you sing, “You might be dead wrong… at least you’re trying…” This particular song seems to be about a romantic relationship, but in a broader sense, is this about avoiding apathy?

Yes, it’s a central message of the album, and honestly I need to hear it as much as anyone. There is a time for resting and rejuvenating, but I think it’s important to be really honest with yourself about whether you are in that process, or whether you are making excuses because it’s hard. You have to be able to get into the squishy middle of things and really dig in.

I’m from Minnesota and in the wake of George Floyd’s murder, which I have written about explicitly on other records, I’ve had to realize how slow change can be. You have that initial communal outrage, but then what happens a year later? What happens two years later?

Whether its a global event or personal event, I’ve done a lot of growing up and I can’t just ignore these things. It’s a kind of rugged realism that comes with this greater knowledge, which can be really beautiful, but there’s a reframing that just has to happen.

When you talk about rugged realism, it makes me think of your song “Cornfields and Road Kill,” which is one of my favorites on the album.

That is my favorite song to play live and has been for years. I just think it’s one of the more honest songs I’ve ever written. I was able to capture a lot of what I feel about the landscapes where I’m from and the complexities and subtle beauty of it.

There’s so many road songs, but there’s very few songs written about the landscapes of the Midwest; roadkill and monocrops, soy and corn, and animals that are dead is the reality of traveling and the landscape and the economy of the area. It’s this visual representation of the choices that we’ve made about culture and society.

I was just mad about that when I wrote that song. I wrote it as a connecting tool and a bridge rather than just rage… but it is also just fun to be loud and turn up the amps and be cathartic…

I feel like the Midwest is having a real artistic moment right now with Waxahatchee/Plains and Kevin Morby, how do you think the Midwest and specifically Minnesota influence your work?

It’s tricky, because it’s such a subtly nuanced place in a lot of ways. It’s home, first and foremost, which is an endless topic of analysis. But creatively, I do feel really inspired by the landscape of the prairie, because of its subtleties. It’s a landscape you really have to sit with and pay attention to in order to understand it. You have to really slow down. I also think there’s a lot of space for a creative community, which is really exciting when you take into account income inequalities and the densities of the larger cities. There’s space here to collaborate and there’s not really the infrastructure that super ambitious people are interested in, so they move away… I think it was Prince who said that “The cold keeps the shitty people away!” [Laughs]

I am blown away by the production on this record, you worked with Shane Leonard who is another artist heavily rooted in the Midwest. What was the process like working with him, and what did that collaboration bring to the project?

Shane is a dear pal who I have recorded with before, so we have an established workflow. I, along with two of my bandmates, had been playing these songs live for a couple years on tour by the time we went to record, so going into it we were aiming to capture the live feeling of these songs, very much trying for the sound of a band in a room.

In approaching the record, I thought, let’s just go and hang with Shane and record live to tape and try to capture that energy. Because we do tackle heavy and weighty topics, but at the end of the day we still have a blast playing together.

I loved recording to tape. Instead of going into it with infinite options it was like, “Here’s how we play it and just do your best.” That infused the whole process with some magic and adrenaline, and it was awesome.

Humbird is a pretty fluid project, there’s a cast and crew of folks who are always shifting based on people’s lives, but I made the record with Pete Quirsfeld (drums) and Pat Keen (bass) and the three of us have been playing together for six-ish years. So these are road worn and comfortable songs that were ready to be captured.

I read that you spent a year doing research as a Watson Fellow. I’m interested to hear about what you were studying and how that has influenced your own music?

Yeah, the Watson Fellowship is this insane opportunity you basically do research on a topic of your choosing for a year. In my case, I was comparing Celtic and Nordic traditions and their storytelling. Historically, so much happened via trade routes and conflict, particularly in the balladry tradition and saga tradition, you will find that similar motifs and melodies crop up across folklore traditions that are also so specific to certain places.

I spent a year shadowing storytellers and musicians, compiling this bank of folk tales and ballads. I was doing a lot of writing and researching and playing music already, but I didn’t actually know that making music could be a job. When I went and did this research and was shadowing all these folks who were essentially doing DIY touring, or playing or performing in community spaces, witnessing how they move through the world I realized, “Oh my god, you can do this?”

One person I spent a lot of time with is Brendan Begley, on the west coast of Ireland. The Begley family are these incredible musicians on the Dingle Peninsula. It was the first time I was exposed to a DIY arts culture… it was so mush part of the fabric of life there and when I came home I realized I want to make art this way, I don’t want to do it academically. I feel like often in the classroom you’re in the business of taking art apart and I wanted to actually create it.

Speaking of the ballad tradition, when I heard your song “Ghost on the Porch,” it sounded like a brilliant remake of an old ballad a la Sam Amidon, but in this case it is actually an original song. I find your songwriting to be more through-composed in a storytelling way than a typical commercial song might be. Do you draw on that ballad tradition in a conscious way or do you hear that influence?

That is actually a song that started as a short story, a fairy tale of sorts. I love to write fiction and non-fiction and it generally happens on a Humbird record that one or two songs per album are drawn from a short story or some other writing format. I’ll write out prose and then think, actually this could be a song.

Anytime you’re writing fiction your own life is in there, but I have not personally had the experience of a ghost of my own likeness standing on the porch telling me to run for my life, which would be terrifying.

Sometimes with writing, it’s almost like dreaming, where you don’t know where things come from!


Photo Credit: Juliet Farmer

Basic Folk – Lauren Balthrop

Lauren Balthrop’s Mobile, Alabama upbringing saw her soaking in the music of The Andrews Sisters, Steve Sondheim, R.E.M., Elliott Smith and Neil Young. As a child, she was involved in activities that varied from sports, to drama, to music and beyond. She never really settled on a passion, until she found acting and theater. She pursued that dream from fourth grade until after college, moving to New York to go after auditions and acting parts. She found a soft landing in the city by moving in with her brother, Pascal. The two would then go on to form the large band (they called it a traveling small town) of Balthrop, Alabama. From 2007 to 2012 they toured the country with as many as nine band members taking to the road. In this experience, she met Dawn Landes and Annie Nero, with whom she joined up for the harmony centered trio, The Bandana Splits.

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In 2013, she released a solo album under the name Dear Georgiana, which referred to Georgiana Starlington, the pseudonym she used in Balthrop, Alabama (everyone went by a character name.) She called those “the songs her brother doesn’t like,” at least not for their band… After that, she wrote a bunch more songs that felt as though they were written in her own voice, which she released under her name as the album This Time Around. Her new solo album continues the sentence: Things Will Be Different. She’s exploring the themes of change, upheaval and heartbreak while looking towards the future with hope. What’s also cool for Lauren is that she’s finding new meanings in these songs that differ from their original purpose. Lauren is a curious learner who seems like she’s always got her antenna up. I love her new record: the lush sounds and humor are hitting me right. It was great to talk to Lauren in this medium! We have known each other for almost 15 years and have instigated many antics over the years. Enjoy!


Photo Credit: James Paul Mitchell

MIXTAPE: Lydia Ramsey’s Songs to Keep Your Heart Inspired

There’s so much going on in the world right now, I find myself feeling somewhat unhinged at times. For me, the best remedy for fighting that feeling is writing, playing, and listening to music. In September, I released a new album, Flames for the Heart, which was written on themes of hopefulness, resilience, and discovering how to keep yourself inspired to move through this life with joy. Here’s a selection of songs that help do that for me. — Lydia Ramsey

Chris Staples – “Walking With a Stranger”

Chris is a dear friend I met in Seattle, Washington. I’m always impressed with his simple and poignant arrangements, there’s an understated sweetness to his voice and cathartic messages in his songs. In most of his songs he’s playing all the instruments and he often also records everything himself in his garage.

Kevin Morby – “Aboard My Train”

Kevin Morby is another one for me who’s able to bring a sweet vocal tone with hopeful lyricism through fun musical ‘60s rock vibes. He’s been putting out so much great music, I like this tune in particular on a gloomy day.

Laura Veirs – “I Can See Your Tracks”

I love the fingerpicking in this one and the soft, makes-you-feel-like-floating arrangement she has worked out — with the reverb on her voice and background vocals creating lovely, layered textures. The lyrics have a theme of forgiveness I like to reflect on when I think about the difficult people in my life.

Lydia Ramsey – “Things Get Better”

I wrote this song thinking about all the good things happening around us every day. Good people helping each other out, and calling each other out when things aren’t right. I believe keeping hope in our hearts is paramount in keeping ourselves intact through the troubles we face.

Fruit Bats – “My Sweet Midwest”

I love the pace of this song, it feels like getting rocked in a hammock in the breeze. It always puts me in a good mood and it’s sweet thinking about all the beautiful parts of this vast country, and people everywhere celebrating the place they call home.

Julie Byrne – “Sleepwalker”

I fell in love with Julie through her record Not Even Happiness when I filled in for her on a show opening for Steve Gunn. The vocal stylings on this are so dreamy and that clear guitar tone is so gorgeous I could listen to this song for days.

Becca Mancari – “Golden”

I met Becca at a show she opened in Seattle when I sang backing vocals with the band Joseph. Her record Good Woman has this rad pedal steel all over it and I just love the swoony, warm tones of this song especially.

Adrianne Lenker – “symbol”

I love Adrianne’s sort of stream of consciousness lyricism, quick rhymes, and hypnotic melodies that later break free with the guitar into this little chorus. Her work with Big Thief is also great, but I often lean into these tender songs of hers a bit more.

Neko Case – “I Wish I Was the Moon”

You know how when you watch someone just shred on the guitar you think, “Oh, that’s how you play a guitar”? When I hear Neko sing I’m like, “Oh, THAT’S how you sing.” I think we all wish we could be the moon sometimes, where we can’t help but shine, high up above it all.

Lydia Ramsey – “Take My Only Heart”

A few years ago, two friends of mine sold their house and everything they owned to travel the world together. I wrote this song loving the idea that all we need is each other to face and embrace the unknown depths of the world.


Photo credit: Kendall Rock

8 Artists You Don’t Want to Miss at Bonnaroo

Summer has begun and you know what that means: It’s almost time for Bonnaroo! The BGS will be back in Manchester, Tennessee, this weekend catching a lineup of over 90 artists and trying not to get lost as we run from the Which to the What to the Who Stage. We hope to see you on Sunday, June 11 back in That Tent to wind up your weekend with the Fifth Annual BGS Superjam with Ed Helms featuring the Bryan Sutton Band, Martina McBride, Aaron Lee Tasjan, Greensky Bluegrass, Mandolin Orange, River Whyless, Gaby Moreno, Baskery, and Lillie Mae.

With so much music and so little time, we thought we’d give you a heads up for eight other roots artists you won’t want to miss.

Reuben Bidez

As you can tell from the title track off his new EP, Turning to Wine, Reuben Bidez enchants his audiences with his raw and emotional lyricism as well as a haunting falsetto. We raved about Bidez’s music — and his cool, classic style — last summer. Now’s your chance to see what the buzz is all about.

Joseph

Joseph is sure to entertain and enchant festival-goers this weekend with a chemistry and energy that cannot be beat. This trio of harmonizing sisters will have everyone singing along to unique and catchy pop-folk tunes from their album I’m Alone, No You’re Not.

Margo Price

Nashville-based country singer/songwriter Margo Price should feel right at home in the Southern heat this weekend. Price has been turning heads since the successful release of her debut album, Midwestern Farmer’s Daughter, last year. We can’t wait to see what she has in store for us.

Ethan Gruska

We loved Ethan Gruska’s work in the Belle Brigade, with sister Barbara Gruska, and have been on the edge of our seats watching his solo career take off since he released Slowmotionary this past March. While we are used to seeing him behind a guitar, we know he will not disappoint as he takes to the piano to perform his classical-based solo work.

Michael Kiwanuka

British singer/songwriter Michael Kiwanuka is sure to blow us all away with his soul-folk style and guitar licks that are reminiscent of the great Jimi Hendrix. Check him out before he jets back across the pond for his European tour.

The Head and the Heart

The Head and the Heart’s set should be full of upbeat tracks from their most recent album, Signs of Light, which showcases the band’s new pop-rock direction since signing to Warner Bros. Records. We still have a special soft spot for the band’s older indie folk tunes, though, and we are sure we will not be disappointed when they take the stage this weekend.

Preservation Hall Jazz Band

In all the hustle and bustle of the weekend, don’t forget to see the Preservation Hall Jazz Band. Pres Hall has been a staple of New Orleans jazz music since the 1960s, and the current rendition of the band has been forging its own path with the release of a second album of original music, So It Is.

Kevin Morby

We can’t help but think of folk legend Bob Dylan every time we hear Kevin Morby’s voice. Morby’s fourth solo album, City Music, will be released the week after the festival. Be sure to stop by his set for a sneak peak.

MIXTAPE: Esmé Patterson’s Summer Songs

Summer jams! What is better than driving across America listening to great tunes in the Summer time? Nothing, y'all. Here are a collection of my favorite songs right now — songs that seem to be on repeat in my tour van. A few songs by friends, a few by people I wish were my friends, and some wild cards to keep it interesting. Hope you dig!

Kevin Morby — "Singing Saw" 
A record that I loved the second I first heard it, driving solo up the West Coast from L.A. to Portland. The guitar solo in this song is so rad!

Nice as Fuck — "Guns"
From a record that we've been digging a lot in the van. It's so refreshing to hear brave, well-written political music from smart, empowered women.

Thao & the Get Down Stay Down — "Millionaire"
This song is such a brave tune. It is so personal and raw. It reminded me that real strength comes from vulnerability. And a fun fact: The bass player in this band, Adam Thompson, produced and played all the bass on my new album.

Mothers — "Too Small For Eyes"
My favorite new band and label-mates on Grand Jury Music. This song is another example of a woman telling it like it is for her, having the courage to expose her beauty and flaws to the world. Man, I love this band so much.

Twin Peaks — "Making Breakfast"
Another super-great band on Grand Jury Music with me. This is such a fun live band, and I am really digging their new album — perfect Summer rock 'n' roll jams.

Minden — "Artist Statement"
Off their album about to be released on August 5. This is a really awesome band here in Portland, Oregon — gets me dancing every time, and the musicianship — as well as the quality of the songs and recordings — is pretty mind-blowing. Really groovy Summer vibes. Stay tuned for this album release.

Broncho — "What"
I just discovered this band and their fun, catchy, sing-along, rocking pop tunes. Great Summer driving music.

Beyoncé — "Drunk in Love"
I am currently drunk in love, too. Feeling this. Surfboard!

Awful Truth — "Cold Grey Sky"
I'm so excited to have Awful Truth opening for me in the Midwest for my album release tour. Brent is a force to be reckoned with — his compositions are so dreamy and captivating.

Harry Nilsson — "Coconut"
Because we were listening to the radio while driving into L.A. to play a show recently, and the DJ was playing his favorite Summer songs, and I had to include this perfect Summer song on my list, too.


Photo credit: Daniel Topete

Squared Roots: Kevin Morby Tells a Tale of Harry Dean Stanton

Roots culture cuts a wide swath that expands far beyond music, and Kentucky native Harry Dean Stanton is a living testament to that. Any list of roots icons would have to include him, if only for his performances on screens big and small in everything from Cool Hand Luke to Gunsmoke. But what only the die-hards know is that Stanton was a musician first, playing harmonica and guitar, and doing the old-school troubadour circuit back in the day. His musicianship even creeps into his acting work, from time to time, which is exactly what he was hoping for.​

Born in Lubbock and raised in Kansas City, Kevin Morby has a good bit of the Heartland in him, as well. As a musician, Morby played a part in both Woods and the Babies before branching out on his on a few years back. He recently issued his third solo set, Singing Saw, which finds him looking to his roots in Bob Dylan and Neil Young even while he stretches his wings to reach new heights.

Bold, unexpected choice you've made here with Harry Dean Stanton. I dig it. Let's hear you defend it, though. What is it about this guy that makes you think “roots music hero”?

[Laughs] To preface it, I just have to say that he's one of those people that, for the longest time, I didn't even know who he was. I'd seen him in a lot of movies, and he kind of became one of those people who you become familiar with the face, but you don't really concern yourself with the name because you feel like you already know them. Then, one day, you finally learn his name and it's, “Oh, that's that guy's name. I had no idea he had a name even.” [Laughs]

[Laughs] He was just this leather saddlebag that was always there.

[Laughs] Yeah, exactly. He's just one of those incredible actors who can pull that off. I think the thing about someone like him is that he is just who he is. He sort of plays himself all the time, which is kind of rare.

Anyway, a long time ago, when I was in a band called the Babies, we played this Western-themed art installation in a clock tower in New York. And they wanted us to pick a movie to be projected behind us while we played, and I picked Paris, Texas, because I had seen it recently and that's maybe the only movie where he's the lead role. I just love that movie. The soundtrack is so great. The cinematography is so incredible. So, we played with the movie projected behind us and all these photos came out of it that were really cool — him walking through the desert behind us.

A couple years later, I played at a venue in Portland and I didn't even realize until we were playing that they had this big mural of him from Paris, Texas behind us. So he's just always there.

He's like your guardian angel or something. You guys have a thing.

Yeah, exactly. Okay, then a couple of years ago in L.A., I went to Cinefamily because Kris Kristofferson was doing a Q&A. They were playing Cisco Pike which he starred in and Harry Dean Stanton is also in. I went because he was doing a Q&A and was going to play a couple songs before the movie. When I got there, I had no clue that he was doing the Q&A with Harry Dean Stanton. It kind of blew my mind. It was one of those things where Kristofferson was as together as he could be, but every question, he kind of gave a standard response … like they would ask, “Kris, what was it like working with that director?” And he would say, “It was a very fun time and we all had a good experience.”

Harry Dean Stanton, who was sitting next to him the whole time, literally never didn't have a cigarette in his mouth and was drinking wine on stage. Every time Kristofferson would give a positive answer like that, Harry Dean Stanton would chime in and say, “Nothing means anything.” [Laughs] He would say these nihilistic things and tell Kris Kristofferson to shut up. Even within the Q&A, he was the way he is in movies — this wingman. It was really incredible to see.

At one point, he told a story about when they were doing Billy the Kid and he and Bob Dylan were jogging and they accidentally jogged through the scene. It was really funny imagery. So, they did the Q&A, then they played three songs … they played two songs, then the second song, which might've been “Me & Bobby McGee,” they ended up playing it twice. Totally didn't realize that they were repeating themselves. [Laughs] It was so amazing. They finished the song and, off the mic — but it's a small enough room to hear — Kristofferson leaned back and was like, “Harry, I think we just sang the same song twice.” It was an incredible moment.

Afterward, I was alone because I went by myself … I was sitting outside at the little party before the movie, sitting there by myself just thinking, “What a cool night.” And Harry Dean Stanton sat down right next to me. It was one of those mind-blowing things. He was smoking and drinking wine, and I asked if I could get a picture with him, so I have this photo of me with him. That's my Harry Dean Stanton story. [Laughs]

[Laughs] That's pretty great. It's interesting that he did the thing with Kristofferson because, listening to his music, he's not that great of a singer.

He's not.

But that's never been a prerequisite for country music … like Kristofferson.

Right. Exactly. I think, with Harry Dean Stanton, if you watch the trailer of his documentary, throughout it, he's singing the Nilsson song, “Everybody's Talkin'.” The dude is almost 90 years old and he's got the total turkey warble to his singing, but it's really beautiful. And when I saw him perform, too. I think he's just one of those cool treasures. When you finally decide to look into him, you realize he's a singer who used to sing every night at the Troubadour. He's just this artist that's all-encompassing. He's invested in the arts and he's more of a musician than an actor, in this weird way. He's kind of more interested in that and just maybe happened to be better at acting. He's just an American treasure. And I love people like that.

I think that's a great way to describe him because he did — he made the choice early on to pursue acting because he thought he'd be able to do music as a part of that. And he was right. I'll tell you, it's kind of fun to listen to his take on “Tennessee Whiskey” next to Chris Stapleton's. If you haven't done an A/B on that …

[Laughs] Oh, man. I'd love to hear that. I just watched this video of him and Art Garfunkel singing at some celebration for Jack Nicholson, and they sing “All I Have to Do Is Dream” by the Everly Brothers. It's so good. He's just one of those charismatic people, this weird all-star.

You're right. And, if you do step outside of music and just consider his roles in Cool Hand Luke, Gunsmoke, How the West Was WonDillinger … he's got some dirt road cred. In terms of roots, he was even born in Kentucky.

Right. For sure.

I get it. I dig this choice. We can work with it.

It's funny. That's cool. I remember, in Cool Hand Luke, the first time I saw that was maybe 10 years ago, there's a scene where he's playing banjo and singing, “If you're going to Houston, then you better watch out.” I've never heard that song outside of that movie, but it gets stuck in my head all the time. He's just always there and he plants little seeds in your mind. You look behind you and it's like, “Oh, there's that guy.” [Laughs]

[Laughs] And, like you said, he was jogging with Dylan and he's been in videos by Dylan, Ry Cooder, and Dwight Yoakam. So, he is. He is always there.

Have you seen The Straight Story, the David Lynch movie?

No. But it's on my list.

It's a really incredible movie, a Lynch movie that views nothing like a typical David Lynch movie. It's so good. The whole thing is that this guy goes to see his brother because his brother's about to die, but the guy can't drive anymore, so he drives a tractor. The brother is played by Harry Dean Stanton. It's a very small role that comes at the end, but it's kind of the most perfect Harry Dean Stanton role, in a way. I won't give anything away. Go watch it for yourself and you'll see what I mean.


Kevin Morby photo by Dusdin Condren. Harry Dean Stanton photo by hermitosis via Source / CC BY-ND.