The Po’ Ramblin’ Boys: “Everything That Is Traditional Now, Once Was Progressive”

Over the past decade, The Po’ Ramblin’ Boys have established themselves as a modern voice in traditional bluegrass. They are equal parts researchers, archivists, and artists, continually reframing what it means to be “traditional” – with a particular focus on the ways that bluegrass and roots music have always been progressive and boundary breaking.

For BGS, I spoke via video call to mandolinist CJ Lewandowski and fiddler Laura Orshaw around the release of their new album, Wanderers Like Me. We talked about their unique approach and mission for the group, we covered a lot of ground, and I left the conversation feeling inspired to put more thought behind my own mission in music making.

I see that you are coming up on 10 years as a band. Many years ago I had the pleasure of writing a bio for The Po’ Ramblin’ Boys, and I’d love to know a bit about the way the band has developed and changed over the years?

CJ Lewandowski: I think we are all ten years older than when we started, for one, and that’s a lot. It started as four guys working at a distillery, you know, working a day job. … There was no traveling, no planning, no pushing to be something. And it naturally progressed. There were videos coming out and promoters started calling and asking us to come out and play.

A lot of people plan for stuff, and they push and push, and everything we’ve been involved with before this band was like that, plowing through clay. You push and you push and never get anywhere. Then this band just happened. We didn’t think we’d be traveling in a bus and going all over the world, but here we are!

Laura Orshaw: The coolest thing for me is seeing the material and the message of the band start to come together. Everybody is really interested in super regional groups from around where they grew up, or maybe just bands they got interested in, so the members have interesting and diverse listening palates.

For several years, the band was doing a lot of covers that people hadn’t heard before, drawing on that research. Then, for the past five years, we’ve been doing a majority of original material and I think that the conversations that it brings up within the band are new … like, “How did you come up with this?”

For example, a lot of the more recent songs are about traveling. … For me, I spin that from the women’s perspective, a lot of them are about mom or a woman waiting back home and I like to think about, “What if a woman sings this song?” I think a lot about those classic themes but making sure they’re relevant to the modern days.

You’re one of the few bands that has never changed their commitment to traditional bluegrass over the years. Tell me about that interest in maintaining your style and how to you resist the temptation to move in more commercial directions?

CL: We had a manager at one point and we were talking about different material we could cover, and I said, “I don’t know if that’s gonna fit us…” And he said, “Well whatever you play, you’re gonna play it the way you play, so it’s gonna sound like you.” I think about that a lot, because I think he’s right.

I try to stray from the word “traditional” and think more about “authentic.” It’s just the way we play, and the way we learned to play from the mentors in our home regions. Anything we do is going to sound like that. We just play and sing true to ourselves, it’s not a plan or an act, we kind of let it go with the flow

There has been pressure sometimes– maybe the band should push this way or that way, but all in all, it’s like, “Well, if it ain’t broke don’t fix it…” We are all just true to the way we play

LO: What CJ said, “whatever you do is gonna sound like you” – with the current album coming out, it’s the first time we’ve had a really heavily involved producer, Woody Platt (formerly of the Steep Canyon Rangers), working with us from pre- to post-production. I think five people are going to have their own opinion about every suggestion that comes up, but because of Woody we did try a lot of things that I don’t think we would have individually gone for. And after we all did them, we usually liked them.

CL: Woody had our sound in mind, and he said, “The main thing is, I want you guys to be you.” We spread our wings, we got a little more vulnerable. There’s a natural progression to all of this and this record is a great next step.

LO: It was just really refreshing to work with a producer and have that level of focus and excitement, having that external voice that studied and focused is huge.

Since the time I wrote your bio, Laura has formally joined the band, tell me about what she’s added to the group and how that came about? I think it’s such a magical fit, and really rounds out the sound of the band.

CL: Her first show with us was in December 2017 at the Station Inn and after that she did some sporadic shows with us and played on our next couple records. In January 2020, she joined full time and she has officially been with us for four/four and a half years now. We tried a lot of different fiddle players on the road and nothing fit quite like what she had on the table; the attitude, the drive, and the musicianship

I’m a huge fan of triple-stacked harmonies, like Jimmy Martin and Osborne Brothers, so she brought a completely different vocal opportunity to the group. There was us three guys, and we could do some three-part harmonies, but with her we could move to different keys and had a lot more flexibility. … And of course, her fiddle playing is sassy and full of energy.

A lot of people ask about the name, The Po’ Ramblin “Boys,” but there’s a tradition of that in bluegrass, with Bessie Lee playing with The Blue Grass Boys, and Gloria Belle with The Sunny Mountain Boys. I like playing into that. But it’s also the band saying, “Hey we aren’t limiting.” Like, whoever can cut the gig, we love you! We’re very open and try to be as inclusive as possible. There are a lot of demographics in the group and she just added another one. …

Bluegrass Unlimited dubbed us as being “progressively traditional,” and it’s true in that everything that is traditional now, once was progressive. I don’t try to stand on a soapbox, and it took me a long time to figure it out, but I’m a queer artist, and I didn’t have anyone to go to when I was figuring that out and I didn’t feel I had a place. So, a lot of the stuff we do today has an open mind to it. [I’m included in] an exhibit in American Currents at the Country Music Hall of Fame and I put a rainbow guitar strap in there just to say, “Hey we’re out here, and holler at me if you need something.” Because I didn’t have anyone to look up to in that way.

Can you tell me a little bit about the album art for this new record, Wanderers Like Me?

CL: The cover photo is a painting of a cowboy. It plays into the title and many of the songs on the record and goes back to the story of wandering all over the country. But that piece of art was painted by our bass player Jasper’s great-grandfather, who was a North Dakota scene painter born in 1900 who painted all the way until his passing. His artwork is in governors’ mansions, he was a very prominent artist and to include something like that for our album art is also another way of honoring tradition.

LO: The way I see bluegrass, it’s a truly American art form. just like painting scenes, it reflects the culture and the time that it was painted in. In a lot of traditional art forms, there’s a kind of preservationist stance, but I think as a band we don’t like to have that mindset as a way to hold up barriers, or to say we don’t like modern or progressive music. A lot of what is told about American and bluegrass history is through a very particular lens; it’s very easy to see a fuller picture when you start digging. We travel and meet a lot of people, we live in modern society, we all have a lot broader perspectives than the people creating music years ago.
So, we just see this mindset as a way to make the music reach its full potential. Preserve and broaden it by being aware of what’s going on around us, thinking about language and thinking about American art forms.

CJ: “Being you” is it’s own art form as well… There’s a lot to just making sure that you’re being yourself.

The people that we learned from, it’s amazing to learn at the knee or the foot of these incredible people, but it’s not a boundary. It’s something that you take and grow from and learn from. Not everyone is perfect or mindful… I learned good and bad from some of these folks. You learn what to do and sometimes you learn what not to do. You take it from spades and grow from that. We want to honor people, but also make this a better realm for everyone. Just because you play traditional music doesn’t mean you have to have a traditional mindset.

I think the fact that this record is coming out on Smithsonian Folkways says a lot about the timeless nature of the music you are creating. What do you hope that folks will get from your music now and also in the future?

LO: I think that one of the most neat things is knowing [Smithsonian’s] mandate around preserving music, knowing that everything that they have and archive will be there for ever. It will always be available.

CL: there’s a lot of good material out there that’s been overlooked. I call listening through it “digging for gems.” As an artist, I hope that one day when we’re gone… someone might find our music like that. I don’t have any kids, so I really think about how my music might be left behind for the next generation. With Smithsonian, we could be dead and gone and someone’s great-grandniece could ask for a copy of our record from the label and even if it’s out of print, they will print one copy and send it to them.

You have a lot of songs about the hardships and joys of travel and touring, do you guys see yourself touring for another 10 years?

CL: There’s a lot of different factors, I think we’d all like to go as long as we can, but within this 10 years we have fiancés, marriages, children, people living in different states. In 2018, when we got Emerging Artist of the Year [award] at IBMA, I looked at everybody and I said, “OK, if you want out, get out now.” And we all put our hands in and said, “We got this.” We all got together about how if one of us going leave, then we’d all let it go.

We never really felt like there was a place for us for a long long time, so when we found success we felt like, “Wow, we did this together…” I think the future is bright, especially with this new album.


Photo Credit: Michael Weintrob

One to Watch: Boston-Based Alt Folk Duo Sweet Petunia

From the crosshairs of the Boston folk community and punk/DIY scene emerges Sweet Petunia, an innovative duo consisting of multi-instrumentalist songwriters Maddy Simpson and Mairead Guy. A synthesis of banjos, queerness, emotive lyricism, and life-affirming harmonies, the pair’s music explores the fluidity of futurity, even when anchored in centuries of tradition.

With two EPs and several singles under their belt, Sweet Petunia graces the ears of multitudes with an active touring schedule and their vigorous participation in the Boston music scene. The queer alt folk duo’s commitment to community and uplifting overlooked histories only deepen the resounding impact that their music inspires.

So, to start things off, how did the two of you first meet?

Maddy Simpson: We both went to Berklee College of Music and we got placed into the same ensemble, 21st Century String Band, taught by Greg Liszt, who is an incredible banjo player. One day we were supposed to have an additional rehearsal with another guy that was in the ensemble, but he stood us up (shoutout Rob with your Legends of Zelda beanie with a brim!) The two of us showed up for the rehearsal and he never came. So we just had 45 minutes to talk to each other. We ended up talking about our goals, the music we liked, and found out that we had a lot of similar likes and plans for the future. So we decided to get together and play some music. When we did, immediately we were like, “Okay, let’s be in a band.”

What does your musical chemistry with one another feel like?

MS: Well, we always joke that we’re related. I mean, we do sound very similar when we sing together. So it kind of feels like we’re like a family band even though we’re not related.

Mairead Guy: Yeah, I mean it just works – really well. Obviously we put in a lot of work into what we do. But a lot of it feels very easy when we’re playing and arranging together. We have similar intuitions about the way things should go, and that makes it really fun and special to play together.

What is your process like when you songwrite and arrange together? And what’s it like arranging with two banjos?

MG: Most of the time we come to each other with an almost-completed song. Sometimes we write together, but usually we come together once the song is pretty much finished and arrange it from there. And that’s just a lot of playing it over and over and over and over, trying different things and seeing what sticks and what pops out.

That works! How did each of you come to the genre and/or the banjo?

MS: I came to folk music through the folk revival of the ’60s. I listened to a lot of Simon & Garfunkel growing up and then when I was a little bit older, I got into the folk revival revival, so like Mumford & Sons, The Head and the Heart, The Lumineers, and that kind of stuff. I had no idea that was just the tip of a really big iceberg – I didn’t really discover true traditional music until college, when I got really into old-time music and ’50s country blues and that kind of thing.

The reason I started playing banjo is that obviously it was pretty present in the music that I was listening to like all throughout high school and my childhood, but when I got to college I had a dorm-mate who played banjo. He was a banjo principal and he would play banjo in the lounge and the laundry room – just everywhere. One day I told him that I was interested and he said, “If you buy a banjo, I’ll give you lessons.” So over Thanksgiving break I went home, bought a banjo, came back, and started taking lessons with him. And then I started taking lessons with other people at Berklee and that was it for me – it became my primary instrument.

MG: So, I grew up in Virginia. There’s a lot of traditional, old-time bluegrass around in that area and a lot of my family is pretty musical – my uncle and aunt and my great uncle and his longtime partner. We’re are all professional musicians and my great uncle was a phenomenal clawhammer banjo player. My brother plays the banjo and I’d always wanted to play it, because it’s such a beautiful instrument. When Maddy and I first started playing together, we had a lot of songs where we would trade our instruments around. When she switched to banjo I thought it was the perfect time to finally sink my teeth in and do it. Similarly to her, once I picked one up I was like, “Oh my God, why haven’t I been doing this the whole time?” Yeah, it’s an addictive instrument to play.

I noticed that the stylization of a lot of your lyrics is super unique and you have several songs with strong narratives. Can you talk a bit about the song “Quilt Too Big to Fold”? I’ve had it on repeat for weeks.

MS: Thank you. Yeah, I wrote that song for a class. We were given this assignment to write a story song. And I was thinking a lot and sort of had this refrain in my head, “All you do is sit all day and sew.” So I did some journaling about all of the things that you can sit and sew. Fiber arts are really important to me and at the time of writing that song I was really into embroidery and I was getting really into visible mending – dabbling in this world of fiber arts.

I started thinking about all of the different fiber mediums you can have. And I started to think about quotes. And then, obviously, I’m also gay. I had already seen the AIDS Memorial Quilt, so I began to look into it more deeply. The quilt was started by a lesbian and was just one of the many forms of activism that came out of the AIDS crisis. The song sort of formed around that pretty quickly. It was easy to write given the fact that I’m queer and then just creating this work of fiction where I did a lot of thinking about what it would be like to go through that, taking my own passions and interests in sort of like translating them into a historical lens. And it was really an interesting process.

Really, really amazing stuff. I also saw that you both played an integral part in Club Passim’s inaugural Pride show? Can you talk a little bit about that and what that was like?

MG: Oh it was all Maddie! Well, we played it together, but it was all Maddie.

MS: Mairead kept me sane – I was freaking out the whole time. I was given the opportunity to curate Club Passim’s first ever truly Pride-themed show. We’ve done Pride open mics and once we had a queer festival, but that was during COVID, so it was all online. So we’ve had some queer-centered events before, but this was the first ever show specifically dedicated to Pride Month.

I was given this opportunity through The Folk Collective, which is an initiative that Passim is spearheading right now. Basically, it’s a cohort of 12 artists and cultural thought leaders that live in and around Boston. Passim has invited them into the club to synthesize what the future of folk music could be like, since folk music has, in the cultural narrative, been seen as a really white-washed and male-centric genre. So it’s 12 people of varying marginalized identities and people of all ages and races and gender identities and sexual identities coming together to talk about what the future of folk music could look like.

I was given an opportunity through the Folk Collective to bring together six queer acts who are making music either directly inspired by or within the traditional genre. We had several performers who played super traditional instruments – I mean, we both played banjo and we had somebody who plays the mountain dulcimer, which was really cool. We had somebody else who did country blues and talked about gender non-conforming people in the genre. And we also had some incredible singer-songwriters as well. It ended up being a crazy night of celebrating queer identities and also celebrating the traditional music that everybody at Club Passim loves so much. It was very, very awesome.

MG: Hell yeah. Beautiful night – Maddie put so much time and effort and care into curating all of these artists and making this happen in such an important and cognitive way, and it was just such an incredible thing to ride along the coattails of.

Hopefully there are many more! In general, what does the community feel like in Boston, within the folk scene, and how do you see Sweet Petunia fitting into it?

MG: I think that Maddie and I have a particular perspective on it just because we work at Club Passim, so we see all the musicians that pass through. But I mean, as is evidenced by the event that we just had, there is a pretty wide community of queer and trans folk musicians who are drawing inspiration from traditional roots music. And even beyond tradition, things like the pedal or lap steel are becoming super popular in different genres of music. Even the banjo people are using electric banjo to get a super sick like electric guitar tone and that sort of thing.

MS: Yeah, I was just gonna say that we sit in a really weird intersection, because we’re not quite in the traditional folk scene. We’re also really established within the DIY scene as well, which is primarily indie rock and hardcore music in Boston. But because we exist in both circles we get the best of both worlds. Sometimes we get asked to play punk shows, but we also can play listening room venues like Passim.

Outside of the folk and Americana scene, what are your biggest influences right now?

MS: I love slowcore and also the huge bootgaze thing that’s happening right now. I feel like I exist in the perfect time to be 25 and into DIY music, because most of the music being made around here at this point has some bootgaze element.

Could you define bootgaze?

MS: It’s like shoegaze-inspired country music. Or country-inspired shoegaze music. Some blur into indie rock, some are just shoegaze bands that use country instrumentation or come from a place where country music is the main genre. The band Wednesday is probably the biggest right now. They sort of pioneered the genre. MJ Lenderman, Florry – there’s lots to explore if you look up bootgaze or countrygaze.

What about you, Mariead?

MG: I mean, definitely same. I’ve also really been loving a lot of hyperpop and pop music recently. Just like the energy in songs like that is so interesting. I’ve been thinking a lot about the banjo as a similar percussion to a drum machine in a super fast hyperpop song. I’ve been trying to think about ways to incorporate that because most of the songs that I write make you feel kind of bad, but I think it’d be kind of fun to write songs that made you feel kinda good.

I think you’re onto something! Do you two have any fun projects coming up?

MG: We’re working on a Dolly Parton cover EP. Every year for Halloween since 2019 (except for 2020 because of COVID) we have done a Dolly Parton cover set. And so this will be our fifth year of Dolly Parton cover sets. So we wanted to do a little something to commemorate it.

MS: Yeah, it’s gonna be really fun. That’s coming in October. There will be a bill for a cover show. So if people are local to Boston, they can come to that.

That is so exciting! So you’re our One to Watch, but who are you watching? Are there any artists, creatives, musicians, etc. that you’re appreciating especially right now?

MS: I think that my one to watch is Roman Barten-Sherman, the person from Passim’s Pride show who does traditional country blues. She’s incredible. She’s so good. She is so smart. And so well-read and knowledgeable about early American country blues. During her shows she’ll introduce every song with so much knowledge about the genre and people who play it. She knows so much about gender-nonconforming and trans individuals and Black women who have contributed to the genre. She knows everything – it’s crazy. And then she’ll play the song and it’s the best fucking thing you’ve ever heard. She’s just so good. I think she’s going to take over the world. She’s my one to watch.

MD: I definitely second that – she’s one of the people I was thinking of. I would also say Jarsch. Just absolutely incredible, visceral songwriting. Beautiful lyricism relating to both the pain and joy of queerness and gender and life itself – religious trauma, all sorts of things. Everytime I see her play I literally just cry and cry. It’s so beautiful. She’s the only person I’ve seen able to yield a guitjo in an appropriate manner, and she just has so much love for what she’s doing and the community she’s in. I feel very lucky to know her. Definitely a one to watch.


Photo Credit: Barry Schneier

Out Now: Wild Ponies

Wild Ponies is a country-folk duo composed of Doug and Telisha Williams. As partners in music and life, they have developed a cohesive and refined sound. Their album, Dreamers, is out August 23, 2024. The album is an exploration of life, love, and loss, covering joy and grief, queerness and polyamory, and their journey pursuing fertility treatments. It’s a beautiful and touching collection of songs.

Before crafting Dreamers, the duo were asked by a fan where their dreams were. They reflected on the idea of where, not what, their dreams were and their response was, “Our dreams are everywhere, buzzing around like energetic bees… At times, our dreams are hard to wrangle – a wild pony…”

This idea of dreams set the concept for the new album. We are excited to dive into Dreamers and Doug and Telisha’s experiences as touring musicians in a queer, polyamorous family.

What does the album Dreamers mean to you personally? What excites you the most about sharing this release?

Telisha Williams: This record is very personal. We talk about becoming a polyamorous triad, being queer foster parents in the state of Tennessee, struggling with fertility issues, working on being more mindful. It’s basically a peak into our home, hearts, and heads. I’m excited about the way it sounds. Brandy ZDAN did a beautiful job producing this record. The band is amazing, and we couldn’t be more proud.

Doug Williams: Dreamers is the story of who we are. It’s not all easy and it’s not all pretty, but it’s all true. I love this record. Maybe that’s not something I should say about our own work but it’s true – I’m really proud of it.

Your song “Heartbeat” touches on your experience with fetal embryo transfer and even includes your child’s in-utero heartbeat. Is there anything you’d like to share about your journey with fertility treatments?

TW: Doug actually wrote that one after we thought that we had lost our pregnancy. We had a pretty traumatic “episode” when I was at about 5 weeks and we were sure that she was gone. The next morning, we went in for an ultrasound and there was her sweet little heartbeat on the screen. Strong and healthy. My process to becoming a mother was challenging and worth it. Our first embryo was a gift from a dear friend and we were so excited about the possibility of raising our genetic siblings together. Unfortunately, that one didn’t take and we didn’t know how to move forward. Our implications counselor connected us with another woman wanting to do an open embryo adoption. We met over zoom and now, we’re family. She has 2 boys that are the genetic siblings of our daughter. They live nearby and we all get to spend time together. It’s been an incredibly generous journey.

DW: This one was tough to write. We were sure we had lost another embryo. Sure of it. It was pretty difficult. So, we scheduled an emergency ultrasound, but we weren’t feeling good. The joy and tears when we saw that heartbeat on the screen is something that I just can’t describe. I tried to describe it in the song. Just pure joy and gratitude.

How do you balance a career in the music industry and touring with your roles as parents? How does polyamory play a role in this for you?

TW: We’re still figuring that part out. There are some advantages of being a three-parent household. Our partner Laura also travels for work as a photographer and we’re able to help each other as the parents that are holding down the homefront from time to time. We also enjoy traveling all together as a family of 5, but it’s hard to find room for the bass. [Laughs]

DW: I don’t know that there is really a good balance. Accepting that makes it easier, maybe? When you know it’s just going to be a little fucked from time to time, it’s just not as much of a surprise. But we’ve got to prioritize what’s best for the kiddos. And, I do think it’s good for them to see the possibility of living life on your own terms. That’s what we want for them, so we try to model it.

Is there anything you’d like to share with our audience about queerness, polyamory, and love, and how these experiences can vary for different people?

TW: We didn’t necessarily seek out polyamory. Doug and I are both bi/pansexual and have had an ethically non-monogamous relationship for a long time. When we met Laura and started spending time together as friends, we started having “more than friends” feelings for each other. We realized that it didn’t divide or diminish our experience as a couple. If anything, we felt stronger and more connected with each other and Laura. That realization that love was not a finite resource changed everything for us. We know that this relationship model is not for everyone. It requires a great deal of communication and intentionality, but we couldn’t be happier or more proud with this dream that we’re creating.

DW: Yeah, it takes a lot of communicating. A lot of talking. Check-ins. Podcasts. Books. Like Telisha said, we kept a lot of our identity fairly quiet for most of our career. It feels really good to be able to completely live our lives out in the open now. It can be a little scary in the state of Tennessee at times, but at this point it feels like the right thing to do is stay and fight to make it better here. Hopefully we’ll be able to continue to do that and make is safer not only for us, but for the rest of the queer community as well.

For anyone reading this who might not be out of the closet, were there any specific people, musicians, or resources that helped you find yourself as a queer individual?

TW: I can’t name anyone specifically, but I will say that when folks from the LGBTQ+ community show up at our shows or events we’re hosting, it means the world. Feeling seen and supported by this community has transformed me as a human and helped me to be more open and available to support others in and out of the community.

DW: That is a good question. Honestly, just our community. For us, or for me, it just took a lot of talking and a lot of checking in with folks we know. Friends who were already out and very public.

Who are your favorite LGBTQ+ artists and bands?

TW: I mean, we have to acknowledge what Brandi Carlile has done for our community, right?! She’s really elevated and supported the LGBTQ+ community in so many ways. From there, I’d say my friends, Heather Mae and Crys Matthews. I’m inspired by the music of Adeem the Artist. The community is strong and talented, y’all.

DW: Oh yeah, all of the above – I was so blown away by Adeem The Artist! Such amazing songs. And Crys and Heather both have killer new projects. I also love Ana Egge, Anne McCue, Amelia White, Aaron Lee Tasjan… just all of our friends, I guess.

What does it mean to you to be an LGBTQ+ musician?

TW: It means that I can sing about all of it. I don’t have to hide in the stories and the pronouns. I can share the beauty of the love I am so lucky to have in my life. I can share it out loud, and I dress in way more colors than I used to. Taste the Rainbow, people!

DW: [Laughs] I love T’s answer. Yeah, it’s new for us to be so public about our identities. We were mostly closeted for a long time. Definitely publicly [closeted]. It feels so good to live our authentic life in front of people now. There’s so much joy in it. So much love. It’s a powerful and beautiful thing that we weren’t sure we’d ever feel comfortable sharing so openly and now I wish we’d done that a long time ago. It took us a while and it was a slow coming out even when we started the process.

What’s your ideal vision for your future?

TW: We want to keep making art and connecting with people. That’s been our drive all along. That connection and building community. We plan to tour more intentionally in the coming years, because home has a bit more of a pull with the kiddos and family, these days. We also plan to travel with them, introduce them to the amazing community of music fans, and show them that families are made, not just born.

DW: Yeah, the ideal vision would be a life where our family and our career work together. We’re definitely finding ways to do that. It’s difficult, but I don’t think it’s impossible.

What is your greatest fear?

TW: I guess, since the pandemic, I’ve been a bit afraid of losing myself as an artist. When we couldn’t get out and “do what we do,” we weren’t exactly sure who we were anymore. It turns out that we’re still as connected to those fans and friends as we’ve always been, it just looks a little different now.

DW: Woof. You mean other than a second Donald Trump presidency? I don’t know – I think again, honestly, it has to do with identity. I love my new role as “Daddy.” I just want to do a good job and take care of these kids. I also really want them to see that it’s possible to live an artistic life. I guess my greatest fear is failing them in some way.

What would a “perfect day” look like for you?

TW: Oooo! I’d get to sleep until the big number is on the 7, then I’d have a fun morning with the kiddos, take them to their amazing daycare, come back for a walk/workout, morning pages and some time to write or play music. Then, the afternoon, I’d intentionally filter through some emails, pick the kiddos up, play, play, play, throw in a dance party and a jam walk, and sing them to sleep. Then, I’d have a little connected time with my partners and hit the hay. Throw in a coffee, walk, or cocktail date with a friend a few times a week, and that sounds pretty great to me!

DW: A perfect day… High of 82 and sunny. Like T said, sleeping a little late would be such a luxury. Then a little morning time with the kiddos before diving into work. Do a little writing, play some guitar? Then around lunch time take a nice twisty motorcycle ride to a great taco truck about 45 minutes away. Come home, get a little more work done, hang with the family and have a great dinner together. After the kids go to bed, maybe read a little while or listen to some vinyl and enjoy a drink or two. And if we’re really talking about a perfect day, there’s a little more… but we’ll stop there.

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

TW: I think the outcome is more satisfying to me, but I also love the process and I believe to my core that the process is more important than the product. I know that music has healing powers. I have experienced that first hand, so that’s why I create music. To heal and experience joy, share or release sorrow, express disappointment or hope. Music and emotions are directly related, in my mind, so in order for me to be healthy and happy and present, I need to be creating.

DW: We talk about this all the time! Yeah, we’re huge believers in the process being more important than the product. But, still, it’s such a great feeling to have a new little song and watch it go out into the world and connect with people! I think that’s why most artists create – the desire to connect, to say something. The good that the process is doing in our lives and in our heads is something we usually discover later. Sometimes that even happens with songs no one else will ever hear.

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

TW: Dreamers will be released on August 23. We’re touring very intentionally for the remainder of the year with shows in the Southeast and Midwest, mainly. We’ll continue to tour in support of the record in 2025, balancing our time at home with our family and out on the road. We’re excited to see where this new record takes us!

DW: Yeah, intentional touring is the main thing, I think. We won’t play as many shows, so if you see us coming to your town, get tickets! We’re just going to be a little more precious with our family time. But, still creating art, still connecting, still holding community events. We’re so excited to get this record out. I’m really proud of it.


Photo Credit: Laura Schneider

You Gotta Hear This: New Music From Flamy Grant, the Wildwoods, and More

To close out the week and celebrate New Music Friday, we’ve got an excellent assortment of track premieres from artists working in Americana, bluegrass, folk, and beyond.

Singer-songwriter Brendan Forrest has brought us “Lowdown Stray Dog Blues,” which features bluegrass and old-time favorites Dominick Leslie and George Jackson backing him up. Plus, the groundbreaking and buzz-worthy queer artist Flamy Grant shares her new track, “If You Ever Leave,” about faith and healing, growth and redemption.

Fiery bluegrass fiddler Andy Leftwich debuts a new, musically acrobatic instrumental single, “Aced,” which boasts an ace backing band of Matt Menefee, Byron House, and Cody Kilby. And, to finish us off strong, Nebraska-based Americana trio The Wildwoods have unveiled “There Goes the Neighborhood,” a contemplative track that explores ideas and feelings around gentrification and transformation.

It’s all right here on BGS and you know what we think… You Gotta Hear This!

Brendan Forrest, “Lowdown Stray Dog Blues”

Artist: Brendan Forrest
Hometown: Chicago, Illinois
Song: “Lowdown Stray Dog Blues”
Album: Daydreaming Music Fiend
Release Date: September 27, 2024

In Their Words: “I collaborated on this song with Dominick Leslie – IBMA winner and two-time GRAMMY Award Winner for Best Bluegrass Album with Molly Tuttle & Golden Highway – and George Jackson – Australian American fiddler and IBMA winner who plays in the Jacob Jolliff Band, with Jake Blount, and countless other prominent groups. The collaboration with Dominick was the crux of the record and the reason I went to Nashville to record it in the first place. I’m a huge fan of his band, Hawktail, which is why I hit him up, and he said yes after listening to my demos. I knew at the time it was the only chance I’d have to work with him, because the pandemic had still held touring back (later that year, things blew up). Now he’s touring non-stop with Molly after their 2 GRAMMYs, and it’d be impossible to get him in the studio the way we did it.

“The recording session was lock and step, even though I’d never met George in person until he rang the doorbell moments before we recorded (nor had he heard any of the songs prior). He was informally invited to the session to ‘see what happens,’ and we knocked it out in just 2 or 3 takes. I think the instant success in the take was 50% the Nashville magic musicians and 50% the song speaking so effortlessly to us cats who have spent much of our lives dedicated to bridging the past Americana music spirit into the present.” – Brendan Forrest


Flamy Grant, “If You Ever Leave”

Artist: Flamy Grant
Hometown: Asheville, NC
Song: “If You Ever Leave”
Album: CHURCH
Release Date: September 27, 2024
Label: Glam & Glory Records

In Their Words: “It’s hard to heal where you’re being harmed. Sometimes, maybe even most times, the best thing a person can do to save themselves from a toxic place is to leave it. For queer folks and many others, church can be a place of real damage, and until the broader American church — and its God — have figured out how to love queer people properly, I intend to stick around and show them how it’s done. But I’ll also be pointing the way to the exits.” – Flamy Grant

Track Credits: Written by Flamy Grant.
Produced by Ben Grace.
Engineered by Charlie Chamberlain at Forty-one Fifteen Studio, Nashville.
Mixed by Latifah Alattas.
Mastered by David Wilton.

Flamy Grant – Acoustic guitar
Megan McCormick – Electric guitars
Juan Solorzano – Pedal steel
Will Honaker – Bass
Megan Jane – Drums
Andy Sydow – String arrangement
Sav Madigan – Violin and viola
Katie Larson – Cello


Andy Leftwich, “Aced”

Artist: Andy Leftwich
Hometown: Carthage, Tennessee
Song: “Aced”
Release Date: August 16, 2024
Label: Mountain Home Music Company

In Their Words: “As musicians, we know that the journey never ends. You’re always trying to be better at your craft, always exploring new ways to approach certain things in music, and forever growing and learning. Every once in a while, you begin to see results of your hard work and it begins to pay off. When you get pickers like Cody Kilby, Byron House, and Matt Menefee together, good things happen. These guys are ‘Aces’ at their craft, and I’m honored they would pick with me on this song!” – Andy Leftwich

Track Credits:
Andy Leftwich – Fiddle, mandolin
Byron House – Upright bass
Cody Kilby – Acoustic guitar
Matt Menefee – Banjo


The Wildwoods, “There Goes the Neighborhood”

Artist: The Wildwoods
Hometown: Lincoln, Nebraska
Song: “There Goes the Neighborhood”
Release Date: August 16, 2024

In Their Words: “The song ‘There Goes the Neighborhood’ was written as a tribute to our hometown of Lincoln, NE and the gradual transformation of the familiar places we think of as ‘home,’ evolving from charming old buildings to modern structures that feel unfamiliar.

“Noah sparked the idea for the song and had been singing the chorus hook, ‘…there goes the neighborhood…’ for months just around the house. One rainy Tuesday afternoon back at home, while reminiscing about our old favorite local sandwich shop that had been transformed into a bank, we finished the rest of the song together in one sitting.

“This transformation from recognizable to unknown mirrors our own growth as a band and as individuals, reflecting the changes we’ve experienced over time. The lyrics and melody perfectly capture the bittersweet essence of these changes. The ending line of the chorus, ‘There goes the neighborhood, gone with the echoes of time,’ blends a sense of melancholy with acceptance and hope, enhanced by the lighthearted melody of the chorus. It’s a heartfelt tribute to the past while embracing the possibilities of the future, resonating deeply with anyone who has felt the inevitable passage of time and the shifts it brings to our surroundings and ourselves.” – The Wildwoods

Track Credits: Written by The Wildwoods.
Chloe Gose – Vocals, violin
Noah Gose – Vocals, acoustic guitar, percussion
Andrew Vaggalis – Vocals, upright bass
Engineered and mixed by Noah Gose at The Goosenest Studio in Lincoln, NE.


Photo Credit: Flamy Grant by Ash Perlberg; the Wildwoods by Sarah and Jeanne Vaggalis (S+J Photography).

Out Now: Madeline Finn

Madeline Finn is a thoughtful writer and dynamic artist. Madeline transcends the boundaries of genre, crafting pieces that pull elements from folk, rock, and indie. Their songs are honest, relatable, and catchy.

Madeline feels that her role as an LGBTQ+ musician is bigger than herself and she values uplifting her community. She hopes to embody the queer representation that she longed for as a kid. In our Out Now interview, Madeline shares their vision for the future, their upcoming projects, and their journey into self-producing music.

We are thrilled to be featuring Madeline Finn at our next Queerfest show in Nashville at Vinyl Tap on Wednesday, August 7. The show runs from 7-9 pm and features four local LGBTQ+ artists. There’s a ticket suggestion of $10 that goes directly to supporting the artists. Don’t miss out on the chance to hear Madeline Finn live!

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

Madeline Finn: I used to be more amped up on the outcome, but these days I have really fallen in love with the process. Mostly since I have started self-producing. It’s so much fun and I could do it literally all day.

You create within a wide range of musical genres including folk, rock, and indie. How do you navigate your identity as an artist who works across several genres?

Honestly, I have no idea. I’ve been trying to just let go and make music that’s fun and meaningful to me. Whatever the genre might end up being doesn’t matter that much to me.

What does it mean to you to be an LGBTQ+ musician?

Being a queer musician is a special thing. Especially because it’s becoming less and less special, if you know what I mean. I am one of many LGBTQ+ artists who make up a whole force of nature. I see my role as a part of the whole, a part of something way bigger than me. The more we uplift our community with art that speaks directly to the queer experience, I think the more healing can be done. The more healing that can be done within each individual, the more we heal the human experience as a whole.

I’m so jazzed on the queer music community and wish I would have had more folks like that growing up to listen to. Honored to be what I needed when I was a kid, now.

For anyone reading this who might not be out of the closet, were there any specific people, musicians, or resources that helped you find yourself as a queer individual?

Specifically, I found a lot of help as a kiddo from The Trevor Project. I also was able to find a safe adult/family member to talk to about it before I came out to my immediate circle. For those who are in adulthood I would highly recommend THERAPY!

You’ve been on the team at Wild Heart Meditation Center for a few years. What has that experience been like for you? Do you find that your meditation practice influences your music?

Wild Heart Meditation Center has been the single most important part of my personal growth and healing over the past five to six years. I came to the center interested in meditation and since then have fallen deeply in love with the practice and the teachings of the Buddha. It’s been so rewarding to be offered an opportunity to share that with the community and others as a facilitator. My practice influences every single part of my life, music included. It’s helped me let go of the craving that often surrounds a career like this, I have gained a deep freedom from contentment within my musical career. I honestly think you can hear it in the music. The shows are more fun for me, I am not afraid of what others think, not sitting around waiting for someone to give me my golden ticket. Instead, I know that I can rest in the reality of this moment and have a deep, non-attached appreciation for all the beautiful parts I encounter.

What has it been like for you to work with other LGBTQ+ artists in the music industry?

The LGBTQ+ music scene here in Nashville has been amazing. It’s this collaborative, joyful machine that just runs all on its own. Getting to hear music direct from artists like Autumn Nicholas and to play for so many other queer folks just gets me so pumped.

It’s like “Y’ALL WE ARE DOING IT!!!” I’d like to believe it’s deeply healing for my inner child.

What’s your ideal vision for your future?

My ideal vision for my future is to have chickens, mainly. If I can have a little space in the world with chickens, my wife, and my dog I am all set. Beyond that, I try not to set too many expectations for the future. Instead, I am really practicing following my intuition towards the next most meaningful step. One day at a time.

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

I have been hard at work on my own record based on the IFS (internal family systems) model of therapy, it’s my first venture into self-production and I’m hoping to have it ready to start sharing singles by the end of the year.

My pop-rock project ENVOI just released a brand new album in May, so there is a chance we may be doing some live shows to support that. In addition, I’m working on a project with Liv Lombardi here in Nashville that is going to totally slay.

As far as touring goes, I’ll be around playing bass, guitar, and singing for a TON of artists throughout the rest of the year and there have been talks about an East Coast run for my solo material in the fall.


Photo courtesy of the artist.

Out Now: Melissa Carper

Melissa Carper’s new album, Borned In Ya, was released today. The album travels through stories and experiences that explore journeys of self-actualization. The songs gather many proficient and accomplished musicians – Dennis Crouch, Chris Scruggs, Jeff Taylor, Billy Contreras, Rory Hoffman, Sierra Ferrell, and more – to create a collection of sounds that are carefully shaped into a captivating work of art.

Carper stitches innovation with tradition, creating something that is new and exciting while also feeling familiar and warm. Her storytelling and authentic style shine, making her music both personal and relatable. In this interview, we dive into her new album, why she creates music, and her release and touring plans for the next year. We’re so excited to highlight this incredible artist and her new album, Borned In Ya.

What excites you most about this new album?

Melissa Carper: This is my favorite album I have made so far; the material is fresh and demonstrates an evolution in my writing and singing. I feel more confident and relaxed and many of these songs allow me to “croon.” I am excited for people to hear it and to see how they respond and how they like it. I can’t wait to take these new songs out on the road and play them for people.

How do you cultivate a balance between traditional and innovative sounds?

The traditional is easy for me, because I’ve mostly listened to older music, so those are my influences. I don’t “try” to be innovative, but I feel like having a really good grasp on roots music these days is almost innovative, in a sense. A lot of people have lost touch with that music. My goal is to bring the roots back, but perhaps with some new lyrical ideas, a unique and personal expression of pain and growth (that I hope is relatable), and combining styles that I love together. Together with the producers and musicians that I have been working with on my albums, I think we’ve taken innovative approaches to the songs as well as maintained traditional feels and sounds.

What was your experience collaborating with such an incredible team of highly skilled and accomplished musicians?

I feel so lucky to get to work with everyone you mentioned. They bring my songs to life in a way I could have never imagined. Chris [Scruggs] plays straight or console steel, rather than pedal. The straight steel is the older instrument and is perfect for most of the songs I write. Chris also played guitar, rhythm and lead, on my albums. Rory Hoffman played guitar on about half of the songs on Borned In Ya. They both did such an incredible job. I’m really in awe of all of these musicians.

Dennis Crouch is the best I’ve heard on upright bass and as an upright player, I listen to his bass parts and try to learn them. In the process of doing that I realize what a genius he is. Jeff Taylor, on piano, often sets the tone of a song and always has brilliant ideas. Billy Contreras blows my mind (and everyone else’s) with the fiddle parts and layers he comes up with. On “Lucky Five,” he really outdid himself on the fiddle solo section. Also, I had Doug Corcoran on horns for this album. He played trumpet and saxophone on five songs. Having horns on my songs is new for me, and I think that sets this album apart from the previous ones.

Rebecca Patek wrote an absolutely gorgeous string arrangement for my song, “There’ll Be Another One.” It is my favorite part of the album, when the strings come in on this song. Jenn Miori Hodges, an old bandmate of mine from The Carper Family, sings stellar harmony on several songs. It felt great to have her on this album, we have such a long history of playing together and she plays with me now quite a bit, whenever she is available. And Sierra Ferrell sings an amazing harmony on my cover of a jazz tune from the ’30s called “That’s My Desire.” Sierra actually recorded that harmony back when we were recording the Ramblin’ Soul album. I had too many songs to fit on that album, so I saved it for Borned In Ya. It is really a dream to work with all these folks and I hope I get to continue to do so. I feel like I lucked into a good thing, a formula that really works for me.

The title track, “Borned in Ya,” focuses on being shaped by life experiences. What are your thoughts on how nature (genes) versus nurture (environment) shape musical ability?

I believe, in most cases, it’s probably a lot of hard work and obsession with something you love that makes someone good at something. I definitely have musical genes in my family, but I had the advantage of my parents having me sing and play from an early age. I had a great bass teacher in junior high and high school and got to study music in college with great teachers, then I kept on learning from each band I was in. I was obsessed with old-time music – country, blues, jazz. I listened in an obsessive way until it became a part of me. I feel my learning process has been a steady, slow one, but the great thing is, I continue to grow.

This album is a compilation of stories and experiences written in song. What was it like to craft one collective album that travels through desire, love, heartbreak, life on the road, and growth?

I had a lot of fun writing the songs on this album. Three of them are co-writes with Brennen Leigh, and we always have a good time writing together. I think I’m having more fun than ever with writing and I hope people can feel that in the songs. I love having a combination of heartbreak and also some fresh romance in this album. Not everything is autobiographical of course, and I’m getting better with that – writing from imagination, pulling from some old experiences and emotions to make it real, or imagining someone else’s situation.

I would call a couple of these songs “spirituals” that go a little deeper with life philosophy. It feels good to write about something besides romantic love and to speak of spiritual growth. Hopefully people who listen find the album inspiring. I feel like Borned In Ya is an expression of some of my past and some of the present, but with a wiser and more experienced soul – more has been “borned in me.”

What’s your ideal vision for your future?

I’d love to have a great balance between performing/touring and getting to spend time at home and in nature. To me, that would be the ultimate, to feel like I’m successful enough financially so that touring doesn’t turn into a grind. I don’t mind touring, but when I’m away from home too much it makes me feel disconnected from life in general, being exhausted, not getting enough alone time to be still and to be in nature. I am in a phase currently where I need to take the opportunities offered to me, even if at times it feels like I have too much on my plate. I’d also love more time to focus on creating a nonprofit to help those who are experiencing homelessness and struggling with mental illness. I dream of creating a center with a working organic farm, providing homes and a healing atmosphere.

Why do you create music?

I get melodic and lyrical ideas in my head and they just start developing, it’s one of the most fun and rewarding things that I do in my life. Once I know I’m onto something good, I’m quite obsessive about finishing it – usually within the day if the flow is there. If it is a song that I am forcing a little, or maybe the song has something good and promising in it but isn’t ready to be fully realized yet, I’m pretty good at coming back to it, sometimes even a few years later, and finishing it when the time is right. The process is the most fun, but I also love getting to present the song to an audience. It’s rewarding in a completely different way. Being able to record the song with great musicians and producers to see what it can sound like in its ultimate form, is an especially rewarding part of the process.

What is your greatest fear?

Even the idea of holding onto fear is fearful; my goal is to keep growing and confronting any fears I have that keep me from being the best possible version of myself. I guess that would be my biggest fear, that I allow myself to be too distracted to actually work on myself and confront any fears that I have.

Why do you think LGBTQ+ representation and community are important – in roots music and beyond?

When I came out, there were very few ‘out’ people in our culture. Seeing k.d. lang and Ellen DeGeneres coming out for me was just an affirmation that there were lesbians that existed in the world besides myself. It was really helpful for me to move to a community where it was normal and acceptable, which was the small and diverse town of Eureka Springs, Arkansas. If you are feeling uncomfortable with yourself, being in a community of folks that are accepting of who you are is a great thing. What I loved about Eureka Springs is that there were a couple of gay bars, but the gay people just hung out in all the bars and it didn’t feel like an isolated thing. It just felt normal and accepted to be part of the LGBTQ+ community there for the most part – except for maybe at the Walmart. [Laughs]

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

Borned In Ya is out July 19th, 2024! I am doing a whole lot of touring around it – Montana, Colorado, Wyoming, Oregon, Washington, then venturing into Missouri, Arkansas, Illinois, Minnesota, Michigan, Wisconsin, Kentucky, and lots of Texas before making my way to Nashville for AmericanaFest. And, I just got back from performing in Europe! It’s a busy year, birthing Borned In Ya!


Photo Credit: Aisha Golliher

Folk Singer Sam Lee Instills Hope and Inspires Action With ‘Songdreaming’

Sam Lee’s musical career grew out of his environmental activism, from the Mercury-winning album, Old Wow, to his ongoing conservation project Singing with Nightingales. The British folk star’s fourth album, songdreaming, released earlier this year, is his most creative venture yet. It’s a manifesto for reconnection with nature constructed from luscious, haunting reinterpretation of the songs of the UK’s Traveller communities.

Its title comes from the summer retreats Lee leads that bring people together to connect to their land and ancestry through song: “Singing to the land happens across the world in Indigenous communities that still have their relationship to nature very much intact,” says Lee. “It’s ceremony, it’s devotional work, it’s prayer.”

We spoke to Lee about songdreaming, how he sources material, queerness, connection to nature, and much more.

Sam, your music is usually based on traditional folk song, but these songs go far further from the source material than you’ve ever taken them before.

I had done a little bit of original writing on Old Wow, but this is an album where almost everything is written by me, some to the point where there’s no semblance of the primary folk song left. And that was a big risk, because I’m quite shy when it comes to thinking of myself as a songwriter. It’s not like I’m a seasoned Johnny Flynn or Anaïs Mitchell. It’s not my training, and I’m a very reluctant writer, because I failed English at school. I’ve always had a great sense of inadequacy.

What prompted you to step out of your comfort zone?

It actually came about in an unusual way – the songs were originally commissioned for a movie, The Unlikely Pilgrimage of Harold Fry. It was an adaptation of a much-loved book about a man who walks the entire length of the UK, a portrait of our connection to the land and the healing power of passage-making. I was already a great fan of its director, Hettie Macdonald – her first movie, Beautiful Thing, was seminal for me when it came out in 1996 – so I was really excited to be involved.

We arranged and wrote lots of songs to capture the mood of the film and some were used, but there were all these, dare I say, leftovers? Being the resourceful, waste-not-want-not type, I said, “Well, these all have something in them that is powerful.”

What was your writing process?

I don’t have one particular method, but the way I work is a bit like the way I interact with nature. I’m a forager for sonic and lyrical opportunity, seeing relationships within words in the way that I see relationships within the ecosystem. You start to find what Simon Armitage, Britain’s beloved poet laureate, will call the “neon” moments, things that suddenly shine.

Can you give an example?

Absolutely. “McCrimmon,” the third song on the album, is a ballad I learned from my late mentor Stanley Robertson, who was a Scottish Traveller. There’s a lyric in the original which is, “no more, no more,” but I heard it as “in awe, in awe.” Suddenly a whole song about the state of awe appeared.

There’s another track which is a love song between a fair maid and a plowboy – I recalibrated and reframed it, so it’s a more complicated relationship between species that are in a state of separation. The folk songs say everything already. I’m like someone taking a Shakespeare play, resetting it, maybe adapting some of the language, like West Side Story from Romeo and Juliet.

Which of the songs came easiest?

“Green Mossy Banks,” which is actually about pilgrimage, was so easy to write. It was like, “Oh my god, I’ve been wanting to write this song forever.” And they didn’t even use it in the film!

What is it in that song that you had been longing to express?

The story of the film paints this wonderful portrait of free passage – there’s never a moment where it deals with trespass or permissions or this idea of private land. No barbed wire fences, or angry landowners going, “What do you think you’re doing here?” One could walk from Devon to the borders of Scotland and never have any issue.

But there is no person in England who goes on a country walk and isn’t affected by our punitive, archaic, and utterly unequal private ownership laws. That’s why I was a founder member of the Right to Roam movement. For all its avoidance of politics, “Green Mossy Banks” is a deeply political song. Social and ecological injustice is at the roots of so much of our international crisis.

Is the UK not quite a good place to walk compared to, say the US? The English have ancient rights of way that allow them to walk across private land, whereas try it in the US and you might get shot…

Absolutely. But where does the US get their notion of land rights from? They were inherited as an enhanced version of British law at a time when, in England, if you were caught poaching a hare or something, that’s it, you had your hands cut off, or you were hanged, or sent to Australia.

On the music video for “Green Mossy Banks” we see you surrounded by various mesmerising English landscapes.

It’s a combination of many of the pilgrimages that I’ve made with Chris Park, a druid, and Charlotte Pulver, an apothecary. At cardinal points of the year – the solstices, the equinoxes – we lead communal pilgrimages to places like Stonehenge, or the South Downs.

Are there any songs on the album that were inspired by specific places?

“Meeting is a Pleasant Place” is very much about the Dartmoor landscape, down to the very tor that we filmed the video on. The exact location shall remain nameless, because it’s one of the few tors that exist in a forest, as opposed to Dartmoor’s sheep-wrecked landscape of denuded grassland. It’s deep in beech and oak forests, which makes it especially stunning.

And the song itself came out of a Devon Gypsy folk tune.

Yes, and it contains this rather mystical language that had become something of a mantra to me. “Meeting is a Pleasant Place/ Between my love and I/ I’ll go down to Yonder’s Valley, it’s there I’ll sit and sing…” It’s bad English, but at the same time so powerful in its ambiguity. It could be a love song between two people, but in that Gypsy corruption of the words, suddenly it speaks about something so much bigger. So then I wrote my three verses as a love song to the land.

The appearance of the Trans Voices choir on the chorus turns it into something epic and anthemic…

It’s English folk gospel, as I call it. ILĀ, who runs Trans Voices, is an old friend and when the choir was set up I said I’ve got loads of songs that I’d like to speak to the queerness of land. Folk song often tends towards the heteronormative, and I want to break that down.

In the liner notes you also talk about the queerness of nature, what do you mean by that?

When you look at relationships within the natural world, sexual or otherwise, what you see is massive diversity in roles and identities. In the fungi world, for instance, there are hundreds and hundreds of genders, working collaboratively in community. Humans, too, need to start to recalibrate the way we behave in nature. So much of our subjugation and exploitation of nature has come through a male-dominated worldview and it’s not working.

One of the species you have a great connection with is the nightingale – as well as singing with them in secret woodland gigs every year, you recently wrote a book about their threatened extinction.

Yes, and when I’m with them, for seven weeks each spring, I get this sense of what is it like to be in a relationship that’s falling apart. That heartbreak, saying farewell, and knowing that it has a time limit to it. That’s what inspired the opening track, “Bushes and Briars.” It was the first folk song Ralph Vaughan Williams ever collected, and it’s a lament of a man and a woman who are separating. As somebody who spends a lot of time in bushes and briars trying to keep a relationship with a bird going extinct happening, that’s a space that is very familiar to me.

Coming from a background of singing acoustically, outdoors, how do you work up the big, dense sounds that populate your albums?

I do my writing with James Keay, who plays piano in the band. We both want a richness of sound, so that what are often very repetitive lines and melodies can take the listener on journeys through different emotional states. It’s about trying to paint as big a painting as possible.

As well as strings and horns and pipes, you’ve added a more pan-global feel with a Syrian Qanun, and a Swedish Nykelharpa.

We wanted to create textures that gave a sense of both the ancient and the unusual. I’d never used a Qanun in an arrangement before, though I have used dulcimers before on almost every album, which are part of the same family.

Maya Youssef, Britain’s best-known Qanun player, features on the one folk song that you haven’t changed, “Black Dog and Sheep Crook,” about a shepherd being thrown over by his lover because he’s “just” a shepherd.

I’ve kept its truth and entirety – it just felt so wonderful bringing the tragedy and the melancholy of the Qanun into that song.

So often in this album you’re grieving our detachment from and devaluing of the natural world. But the spirit and purpose of the music, as you describe it, is also to re-establish those connections. What are your current priorities for climate activism?

At the moment, there’s a big campaign to get young people voting, and voting for nature, in the UK. Hope for me is always about having a plan. And there are many brilliant plans out there. It’s about overcoming apathy and resistance and reawakening people to what we have to lose.

I can’t speak to what I think the outcomes will be, I think that’s a dangerous thing to do. But I hope that the album has as many opportunities to instill hope and beauty as there are moments of doom and tragedy.


Photo courtesy of the artist.

Out Now: Great Aunt

Great Aunt is an Australian folk duo composed of Megan Bird and Chelsea Allen. For a small outfit, they showcase a wide array of instruments – including mandolin, resonator guitar, acoustic guitar, double bass, percussive instruments, and vocals – with detailed harmonic arrangements.

Their music is groovy, with a foot-stomping feel as the base underlying relatable lyrics and stories, primarily drawing from Appalachian folk, bluegrass, and gospel music. Great Aunt is a duo with an impressive log of tours, festival shows, and releases that they’ve independently managed. Their most recent single, “What’s A Girl To Do Now,” covers issues around body image, identity, gender, safety, and equality.

We are eagerly awaiting the release of their debut full-length album, It’s All Downhill From Here, expected later this year. In the meantime, we are honored to highlight this incredible duo from all the way down in Australia, Great Aunt.

You just released “What’s A Girl To Do Now?” This powerful song addresses the struggles that women face around being “woman enough” – body image, identity, and more. Could you share more about the inspiration and meaning behind this song?

We started writing it when a lot of awful things were happening to women in our parliament that no man was ever held accountable for. We then spent a lot of time reflecting from our own place of privilege, as we watched First Nations women dying in [state] custody and the trans community being politicized and targeted by extreme acts of violence. We wanted to acknowledge how discrimination and acts of violence against women further intensifies at the intersections of race and gender. There’s a lot of work to do to support each other and fight for equity, where everyone feels safe, included, and as valued as any other woman. Space is infinite, there’s a place for all of us, except TERFs maybe.

You’re planning to release your debut full-length album, It’s All Downhill From Here, later this year. What has that process been like for you? What might listeners expect to hear from this much-anticipated release?

A diverse range of folk songs and a lot of personal stories to tell. We’ve been recording and mixing it ourselves with a vision to have some common themes throughout the album. Our main goal is to remain honest and sincere, and to try and translate that into the album.

As independent artists, what has the process been like for you to secure so many festival placements and shows? How do you balance the creative side of being artists with the business needs to book shows, attend conferences, and promote your music? 

We are fiercely independent! The balance is often skewed towards the business side of things with the amount of touring we’ve accomplished in the last 12 months, including three U.S. tours. The admin feels never ending, to say the least, but we both divide and conquer with festival applications, booking tours, and the PR side of things. We even do our own artwork!

Now that we’ve put in the effort, we’re starting to get invited to festivals and events around the world, which is really exciting. This year we’re balancing it in favor of writing and recording, while we start booking our next U.S. tour for 2025!

What’s your ideal vision for your future?

In the short sighted future – to continue touring the U.S., Australia, and abroad.

More importantly, we want to continue to embrace and help grow this music community so we can all thrive. We know that without the help of this community we really wouldn’t have had the incredible experiences we’ve had, so we will continue to pay it forward however we can.

What is your greatest fear?

We fear for all of us. That things don’t get better and we never find our way as humans. The feeling of being unable to make an impact or calling for change and it falls on deaf ears, is the crossroads a lot of us have been at for a while now. We see this as key as western countries enter the next round of elections.

What is your current state of mind?

Burnout and worry, yet still optimistic? Right now we make sure we find pockets of joy, away from our devices and the news.

What would a “perfect day” look like for you?

Starting off with a big pot of coffee… or two. Then sitting in our pajamas together, in our home studio, writing and recording music throughout the day, maybe sneak in a video game or two. Then we head to a show. It doesn’t matter if we or someone else we admire is on the stage, but it’s a room full of friends and heartfelt stories.

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

It’s a form of communication and expression that is a part of both of us. Creating or writing music is a constant process of growth and exploration. When we “finish” writing a song, record it down, and release it, it still continues to grow and evolve as we perform it.

Do you create music primarily for yourself or for others?

Our songs start from personal experience, a reflection of something from our lives. While we don’t write music with an audience, we do hope that someone out there listening to it feels less alone, and can hold onto that connection.

What’s the best advice you’ve ever gotten?

That a career in music is a long journey.

Who are your favorite LGBTQ+ artists and bands?

Some of the best music out there right now is queer music, and the list is forever growing. Adeem the Artist, Jessye DeSilva, Wiley Gaby, Crys Matthews, Brittany Ann Tranbaugh, Julie Nolen, and the beacon of light that is Allison Russell! Oh my!

We also adore Flamy Grant, Karen & the Sorrows, Amythyst Kiah, Jake Blount, and some local Australian favs are Charlotte Le Lievre, Little Wise, the Double Dole String Band, Kerryn Fields, Hana and Jessie-Lee’s Bad Habits, This Way North, and the Tuck Shop Ladies.

For anyone reading this who might not be out of the closet, were there any specific people, musicians, or resources that helped you find yourself as a queer individual?

I, [Megan], was lucky enough to attend this place called Rock’n’Roll High School in Melbourne. It was a place started by Stephanie Bourke, an icon in Australian music. She created a safe space for young women, non-binary, and queer folks to start bands and taught us how to navigate the industry. On reflection, I distinctly remember I felt safe to be myself and finally found a place of belonging, where my queerness or size wasn’t singled out as an issue to fix. It was a significant turning point for me, and it came at the perfect time.

I came out when I was a young teen, and was fighting to live every day. I had the support of my family, but was constantly abused at school and even the school itself told my parents I didn’t belong. It nearly had a devastating impact. Please. Hold on. Find a space that makes you feel alive. Find people and community that don’t question or challenge your identity, and let you just be, that is your family. If you haven’t found it yet, please don’t give up. When you do find these people, the feeling of liberation will overwhelm you with joy. Great Aunt loves you, we’re rooting for you.

What does it mean to you to be an LGBTQ+ musician?

Being a musician helped me process and get comfortable within my own skin when trying to understand my own identity. We’re queer women, our music is written from our perspective, and our songs are literal stories from our lives, so it’s inherently queer music. We don’t underestimate the importance of visibility and allyship. It’s critical for us that our music is a safe space for everyone.

What has it been like for you as Australian artists touring in the US?

As folk music has such deep seated roots within American culture, we are always humbled by the breadth of the music community in the U.S. and how welcoming and supportive they have been to us. We reflect on how lucky we are to be able to do this, and the listening rooms we’ve played that have been full to the brim with people we now call friends. There’s no music scene like it.

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

There’ll be a couple of U.S. tours, that’s for sure. Once we have this album out, we’re already thinking about another release to follow shortly after, and really want to make the most of a slightly quieter tour schedule this year.


Photo courtesy of the artist.

Out Now is presented in partnership with our friends at Queerfest. Learn more about this Nashville-based queer-centered event and collective here.

Out Now: Sage Christie

Sage Christie (formerly known as Siena Christie), is a modern folk artist known for their pure voice and captivating story songs. In both 2022 and 2023, Sage was a finalist at the Kerrville New Folk Songwriting Contest. They also won a handful of other songwriting contests including the Great River Folk Festival songwriting contest in 2021, Portlands Folk Fest Song Contest in 2022, and the Walnut Valley Festival NewSong Showcase in 2023.

Sage has spent much of their time in the past year touring the Southeast, Midwest, and Pacific Northwest. When they’re not on the road, they’re now based in Asheville, North Carolina. They moved to Asheville last year, eager to connect with Appalachian music, folk traditions, and the vibrant local arts community.

Our interview covers their dreams to tour full time and their ideal day on the road filled with beautiful landscapes, new towns, and deep connections with both good friends and strangers. We also explore their passion for music, their favorite LGBTQ+ artists, and their experience as a nonbinary artist navigating a recent name change.

Why do you create music?

Sage Christie: I don’t. Music creates me.

Okay, but for serious, I don’t really know; I just always have. I can’t go a day without making up pieces of songs in my head. That’s been true since I was 5 years old.

Who are your favorite LGBTQ+ artists and bands?

I might be slightly biased, because I’ve seen these people in person (and they absolutely wowed me off my feet), but I would definitely include Olive Klug, Emily the Band, Spencer LaJoye, and Flamy Grant on that list.

For anyone reading this who might not be out of the closet, were there any specific people, musicians, or resources that helped you find yourself as a queer individual?

Listening to Jimmy Somerville, the Communards, and Bronski Beat helped me get through high school. I was deeply moved by Jimmy’s heartbreaking songs about searching for belonging as a queer person. But I couldn’t explain why I was so particularly entranced and comforted by the music of a gay man, since, at the time, I thought I was a bisexual cis girl. The better I get to know myself, as a masc-leaning enby, the more sense it makes. To anyone who’s in the closet or questioning: you don’t have to know who you are today. You don’t have to tell anyone if you don’t feel safe. Your feelings are a hundred percent valid and okay. You matter, and you are enough.

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

In September, I plan to release an LP called Little Deaths, a storybook concept album that traces the arc of a short-lived romance from start to finish. I have always been fascinated with fairytales, so I decided to write one myself. I feel like I grew up a lot while writing it. This album is basically me trying to explain love and death to myself like I’m in kindergarten. Once Little Deaths comes out, I’ll be celebrating its release with a two-week tour, visiting Chicago, Eureka Springs, Arkansas, St. Louis, and some other cool places as well.

You’ve been touring all over the Southeast, the Midwest, and the Pacific Northwest. What’s that been like for you to organize these tours and be on the road so much as an independent artist?

Touring is my favorite thing ever. I love traveling, seeing new places, making new friends and fans, and playing shows night after night. Booking tours is a lot of work – from researching and contacting venues, to planning safe tour routes and lodging, to promoting the shows and practicing for them – but the payoff so far has been amazing. If I could tour full time, I would. That’s a dream for the future.

Tell us about your recent move to Asheville, North Carolina. What drew you there and how are you liking it so far?

I knew I wanted to move to the southeast U.S. because of the rich Appalachian music heritage and continuing folk traditions here. Leaving the Northwest was tough emotionally, because most of my family and friends still live there, but luckily, they’ve all been supportive of my decision to chase my own adventure. Now that I’m in Asheville, I’m inspired by the community of songwriters, poets, and visual artists that has welcomed me with open arms. To be fair, I’ve only been here half a year, but so far, as a creative person and as a queer person, I feel like Appalachia is a good home for me.

How has your recent name change influenced your personal and professional identity?

I changed my name to Sage recently. I was born with the first name Siena, and it always felt like someone else’s beautiful name. Naming myself Sage has felt like an empowering step in my journey as a queer and self-defining person. Many fans and venues still know me as Siena Christie, so I’m doing my best to spread the message about my new name.

What would a “perfect day” look like for you?

Being on tour with dear friends and partners. Driving through gorgeous natural areas and towns I’ve never been in. Playing a backyard concert with string lights and fireflies and stars and lemonade. Getting to cry and laugh with people I’ve just met because of music. Staying up late with friends eating chilaquiles while watching planes go by. Seeing my loved ones’ shoulders relax and eyes sparkle.

What’s the best advice you’ve ever gotten?

A year ago, a good friend said, “You’re kind, to a fault. You should be more mean to people.” That might sound weird, but it’s helped me realize that failing to put on my own “oxygen mask” first actually hurts people – not just myself, but ones I love. Listening more closely to my own suffering has made me a better listener in general.


Photo courtesy of Sage Christie.

Adeem the Artist’s ‘Anniversary’ is a Complex, Deeply Moving Homecoming

In the press release for their 2024 album Anniversary, Adeem the Artist, the non-binary, self-described “cast iron pansexual” singer-songwriter, mentions that the album is queer country – as a genre, not simply as music made by queer people, but as a whole new thing. They also mention recording and creating with their child, their partner, and their tour manager, in a week off from touring in semi-rural Texas. The album is a deeply moving, hauntingly specific, and profoundly sophisticated look at the interweavings of family and a (literally) hostile landscape.

This is queer country – queer as a sexuality and gender and musical identity, but also as an indication of being a little askew, not really fitting plumb, as a political and personal identity. Here, a genre, Adeem notes, is a way of working against expectations or histories:

“Country music is important to me, because it’s so much tied into the dirt of where I grew up. It feels like a place I can comfortably speak from, in the authority of my testimony as a Southerner and a child of Confederates. That’s my responsibility, my calling. That’s why I’m making country records right now. It’s where I need to be, to be processing the things I’m processing.”

One of the ways of keeping safe in this landscape, while acknowledging and trying to make amends, is to move inwards, to lean on the “cast iron” of “cast iron pansexual.” This album moves from the outside – a world that is toxic and violent – toward one that is domestic. In the coruscating rock breakdown of “Plot of Land,” with its minute-long, Tom Petty quoting coda, Adeem sings:

And the politicians cast their lies like street craps,
And they sweep up every time
So baby I’m gonna find us a plot of land
With a little home to put a family in …

The plot of land is a long term plan, but there are moments in this record where you can see possibilities – of a loving home, of a rock and roll life, of a genderqueer Southern utopia, of the perfect dive bar meetup – falling out of an ambitious set of recordings. The too muchness of the album can be understood given it was made in a week, in a hostile place.

Adeem talks about how they made “Nightmare” in Texas, incorporating all the elements in their surroundings including “Isley’s laughter [their daughter], Kyle’s gentle presence [their tour manager], Hannah’s bouncing energy [their wife] as she pitche[d] hymns we could reference irreverently. That week away from the internet and the news cycle was a little insulation bubble that gave us so much room to breathe and feel safe. I don’t think this song could’ve been delivered with a different midwife.”

The midwife analogy is especially relevant to understanding some of these songs, particularly “Carry You Down,” where Adeem writes gorgeously about having and raising babies. The song is so gentle, so respectful of the autonomy of the child, but also filled with the details of domestic life that have become rare in country lately. In an album about adult pleasures and pains, it is a rest song, about carrying a child down the stairs when they ask to be carried, even if that interrupts “chorin’,” doing dishes or work in the garden.

If “Carry You Down” is a waltz, then “The Socialite Blues” is a romp about “staying up to the break of dawn/ making out of tune songs with you” – another kind of domestic, with “out of tune” its own kind of queerness. These songs have a sweetness, a refuge from harm, a way to escape not outside, but within.

The invocation of “out of tune songs” is a euphemism, but there are spaces on the album where Adeem is explicit about desire, as explicit as a country song has ever been, like in “Nancy,” which expresses exactly how difficult it is to fuck while on pharmaceuticals; or “One Night Stand,” about relationships that happen between last call and sunrise, but whose memory might, out of mercy and grace, stay on for “a lifetime of nights with him;” or “Part and Parcel,” where they sing, in gentle but urgent tones:

Take it all apart, it’s part & parcel
I came here with a strange and honest feeling
Chase all of these contradicting versions
Childhood perversions, & dreams that never steered
Let them drive a little while so that I can disappear

Those “contradicting versions” include being a child from the South, so the history here is not only personal, but social and political. There is a cluster of artists working out the history of the South right now – Justin Hiltner’s “1992,” Miko Marks’ Race Records, Willi Carlisle’s recitations of the failures of Appalachian and rural drug work, the entire career of Jake Xerxes Fussell, all of the ancestor work in Beyoncé’s Cowboy Carter. It might seem like Adeem’s work is personal, but all of this historical work flows from the personal to the corporate, an understanding of history that includes both last week and last century, trauma and joy twisting into a complex homecoming.

Homecoming for Adeem also includes the history of Knoxville, Tennessee; on the album’s last song “White Mule, Black Man,” they begin by asking if it’s too much to do one more, but after the end of the track, it’s clear that nothing could be more proper. Here, Adeem telling stories of the South, from Confederation onward, means taking racial politics seriously.

In almost exactly three minutes, they tell the story of a white mob rioting after a foiled lynching, the eventual coverup of that lynching, and the layers of myth-making and storytelling to prevent the truth from being revealed. Moving from talking to singing, somewhere between Peggy Lee’s “Is That All There Is” and Dylan’s “The Lonesome Death of Hattie Carroll,” the story in this final song laments, “But if the Tennessee River runs red with blood/ ‘Til the city runs white again/ Well, a white mule’s curse means more round here/ Than the last words muttered by murdered Black men.”

Adeem has been blunt like this before, tearing down the charnel houses of violent American racism and its myths, and this song is a deepening and extending of that practice. By ending the album on this note of violence, not as a lecture but as a moral accounting, that history work is ensuring that everyone is seen and known, their family is known, and the origins of their family’s prosperity is known.

Such knowledge is the necessary, sometimes haunting, sometimes delightful, attraction of Adeem as a person and “the Artist” – earning that sobriquet.


Photo Credit: Hannah Bingham