Tag: linda ronstadt

MIXTAPE: Katie Cole’s A Walk in the Forest

Posted on by Editor

I put together this group of songs called “A Walk in the Forest” to be a companion piece to my new album, Forest. This album explores nature, growth and seasons of change. For me this means finding your voice and purpose in life, but also going through hard goodbyes, grief and finding a new road to take.

For this playlist, I wanted to share songs with you that also explore these themes from some of my favourite artists from the 1950s to today. I really believe that sometimes you have to get a little lost before you find your bearings and where you’re meant to travel. Hope you enjoy the journey! – Katie Cole

“Forest” – Katie Cole

This is the title track from my new album. I wrote a fairly dark lyric and decided to lean into a breezy ‘60s feel for the music to help tell the story about the stress and anxiety of being forced down a path you don’t honestly want to go.

“Walk on By” – Dionne Warwick

This is by far my favorite Burt Bacharach/Hal David-penned song. It effortlessly conveys heartbreak and the attempt to move on. I just adore Dionne Warwick’s voice during this era and feel like the pain she feels is so muted and real.

“Road” – Nick Drake

Nick Drake is just one of those artists that really changed the way I saw genre and expression in songwriting. Many of his songs carry elements of alt-folk and jazz. This song “Road” carries such momentum in the delivery. Nick is a wonderful guitarist and his alternative tunings are something to truly study. I love this song and it’s such an anthem to “keep going” on your journey.

“Windmills of Your Mind” – Dusty Springfield

If only we could all make a record like Dusty in Memphis, wouldn’t it be grand? I love the pictures expressed in this song with Dusty’s smoky voice. Lyrics like “And the world is like an apple / Rolling silently in space / Like the circles that you find / In the windmills of your mind.” Incredible imagery here and the whole album is a favourite of mine.

“Seasons Come, Seasons Go” – Bobbie Gentry

Such a great song. I just love Bobbie’s voice and how this song just takes you where it’s going. Like it commands your full attention. Bobbie is such an underrated guitarist and composer and I love her duets with Glen Campbell also.

“Whispering Pines” – The Band

This is definitely a song to listen to at the end of the day and remember ones you’ve let go or memories long forgotten. The Band just have a way of making so many of their songs seems like you’ve always known them.

“I Can Close My Eyes” – Katie Cole

This is a song from Forest where I wanted to explore the internal emotional struggles of relationships. What you choose to accept vs. what you long to change. I think it’s really the heart of this album as the story and melody just weave you down a path you have to finish walking on no matter where you end up.

“Who Knows Where the Time Goes?” – Fairport Convention

I’m so glad my producer Howard Willing introduced me to their music. To me, it’s like where Peter, Paul and Mary started, I think Fairport Convention took storytelling to a much more dark and human place akin to Dylan. This song is really dreamy.

“Autumn Leaves” – Nat King Cole

Nat has one of my favorite voices of all time and this orchestral arrangement is so lush and lovely. This song, like many of Nat’s, fills me with emotions I didn’t know I had. Sadness and longing during certain times of the year. I love autumn but when all the leaves drop finally, life forces you to assess time and what has passed.

“Sundown” – Gordon Lightfoot

Love this song and the breezy way he tells a story. Gordon is quite an exceptional lyricist and this song is perfect to listen to on a Sunday afternoon. Or maybe that it makes any day feel like a Sunday afternoon.

“Amoreena” – Elton John

It’s easy to jump to songs like “Tiny Dancer” when it comes to Elton, but the whole Tumbleweed Connection record is a marvel. I always circle back to this song. I don’t know if it’s the melody or the key shifts, but this song is masterful.

“Learning How to Lose” – Katie Cole

Sharing this song of mine which is another from Forest. I co-wrote this one with John Capek here in Nashville. Many times in my career I’ve been told how “you didn’t fail you learnt something” or how “it wasn’t meant to be…” and variations. I think it takes a lot to accept that you can’t win them all and there’s a power and humbling grace to that notion. Once you accept that failure is OK, then any victories seem to more meaningful.

“Wildflowers” – Trio (Dolly, Linda & Emmylou)

Had to include these three ladies. This song is a beauty and when Dolly, Linda and Emmylou sing together something magical happens. I’m sure together and individually these ladies are responsible for much of the female singer-songwriters that we have today. Dolly will forever be missed and this song is wonderful.

“September Song” – Rufus Wainwright

I have been a fan of Rufus for quite a while. He’s like a chameleon of his craft in plain sight. His folk records are spectacular but his jazz albums soar in a completely different way. This is a classic song with a soaring melody set against a live jazz orchestra. I think Bing Crosby’s version of this song is hard to top, but Rufus can literally sing anything and this version is a real standout!

“You Can Never Go Home Again” – Katie Cole

I decided to bookend the playlist on this one of mine. It’s also the last track on my new album. I wrote this about how you grow up and go out into the world, but yet somehow when you go home, it’s never the same. Rooms might be the same size, but everything is different. That’s been my experience anyway and maybe yours too.

Photo Credit: Dire Image

The 15 Best Country Albums of 1976

Posted on by Editor

Country music has a long-standing reputation as being a genre focused primarily on breaking songs at radio and, consequently, one that releases albums routinely dismissed as “hits plus filler.” Conventional wisdom is not entirely wrong on this point, but it is wildly overstated. The truth is that every year is a good year for country albums—and that was once again the case fifty years ago.

I wouldn’t crown 1976 as the greatest country-album year ever—as I once suggested at No Fences Review, that title may belong to 1973—but the U.S. Bicentennial was yet another year filled with fantastic, even essential, country albums. Of course, any Best-Of music list is subjective, but I’d argue the best ones both validate reader experiences (“Oh hell, yes! That’s a great one!”) and challenge their taste (“What the hell?”).

So, listed alphabetically only, and with the understanding that I could have easily doubled the length of the list below, here are my 15 Best Country Albums of 1976.

Jessi Colter – Jessi

Colter will forever be best known for the pissed-off vulnerability of her “I’m Not Lisa,” the quiet crossover hit off I’m Jessi Colter. But Jessi, her follow-up in ’76, is the better album. Colter’s quaver doesn’t always hold, or even hit, the notes she’s after, but somehow that limitation consistently deepens the domestic turmoil she sounds in her songwriting. And the wild, bluesy, and country-rock arrangements on “The Hand that Rocks the Cradle” and on No. 11 hit “It’s Morning (And I Still Love You)” only reinforce Colter’s conflicting emotions. “Without You” opens at a crawl, just voice and piano like it’s going to be the unhappy sequel to “I’m Not Lisa,” then suddenly it’s a party. “Without you I can’t go on,” she keeps insisting, but you can tell she’s already starting to dance.

Stoney Edwards – Blackbird

Stoney Edwards’ final Capitol album included several tracks that, then as now, sound like they should’ve been good-sized hits, but both the sweet country pop of “Love Still Makes the World Go ‘Round” and the prayerful version of Merle Haggard’s “Don’t Give Up on Me” barely charted at all. In the uplifting but controversial social commentary “Blackbird (Hold Your Head Up High),” which just missed the country Top 40, Edwards used the N-word to describe himself and his father—pointedly so, to shine a light on the white world’s bigotry and oh-so shrewdly, as well, to claim country music for his own. The unexpected closer, a crawling six-minute version of Leonard Cohen’s “Bird on a Wire,” is a perfect vehicle for Edwards’ worn-sandpaper baritone: “I have tried in my own way to be free…”

Emmylou Harris – Elite Hotel

Elite Hotel was technically out in 1975, but since it wasn’t released until Dec. 29th, I’m more than pleased to include it among the best of ‘76. On her second album, and as of that April, her first No. 1, Harris dedicated her luminous voice to bridging country scenes new and old. She memorably covered her late friend Gram Parsons twice even as she also scored a pair of chart-toppers with versions of classic hits by Buck Owens and Patsy Cline—and added a No. 2 hit with George Jones deep cut, “One of These Days.” I know the competition has been stiff, but is this Emmylou Harris’ best album?

Waylon Jennings – Waylon Live

Recorded at shows in Dallas and Austin in 1974, Waylon Live is my pick for Greatest Country Live Album Ever. Jennings is at his tender, burly best and Ralph Mooney adds lightning-strike pedal steel throughout, atop the Waylors’ thumping, bumping country rock. From “T for Texas” (“Wanna hear me yodel?”) to “Bob Wills Is Still the King” to “This Time,” this is Outlaw country at its artistic peak. Pro tip: The 11-song original LP was bumped to 20 tracks when reissued on CD in 1999, then expanded to 42 tracks in 2003, and will still leave you wanting more.

Loretta Lynn – When the Tingle Becomes a Chill

Lynn was never much of an album artist but this one goes on her short list. The title track, written by Lola Jean Dillon, is a women’s movement anthem that lays out the cold, hard material conditions of domestic life. You wish Lynn had gender-flipped her cover of the Glen Campbell hit to “Rhinestone Cowgirl” or that her only song credit here, “Red, White and Blue,” didn’t claim Cherokee roots for herself quite so stereotypically. But those are quibbles next to how persuasively she transforms each cut here as a statement of her absolute Loretta-ness.

The Osborne Brothers – Number 1

This Osborne Brothers album included zero No. 1 hits, zero songs that include the phrase “number 1” and, what’s more, was approximately their 18th studio album, not their first, so my guess is that this album was called Number 1 because it was their first for bluegrass label CMH. Regardless, Number 1 pops like only the Osbornes can. It’s filled with Bobby’s great high leads and jaggedy mandolin solos, with Sonny’s ringing banjo and, for even extra pop, David Brakefield on high-lonesome drums. A-Team pianist “Pig” Robbins even drops by on “Memories Never Die” and “Each Season Changes You.” Bluegrasspolitan!

Johnny Paycheck – 11 Months and 29 Days

This album didn’t include any radio hits to speak of, the way earlier Paycheck sessions with producer Billy Sherrill had, and certainly nothing as monumental as the pair’s “Take This and Job and Shove It” would the following year. But would you settle for some of Paycheck’s greatest performances? The title track (a Paycheck/Sherrill co-write) is a rough-and-rowdy, in-the-jailhouse classic, while “The Feminine Touch” is a tragicomic testament to the way every domestic nicety abandoned Johnny when his wife moved out, and “Gone at Last” (a Paul Simon song and duet with soul singer Charnissa) is delivered with fingers-crossed, Pentecostal mania. Best of all is “I’ve Seen Better Days,” a miserable country-soul masterclass that begins with Johnny coming to on the lawn.

Elvis Presley – The Sun Sessions

Either a jolting reminder or thrilling revelation, depending upon when you came in, The Sun Sessions brought together for the first time Presley’s first commercial recordings, the game-changing sides that both challenged and help to expand what people thought of when they thought of country music. It kicks off, of course, with the genre-scrambling debut single “That’s All Right” b/w “Blue Moon of Kentucky,” and gathers as well his game-changing run of initial rockabilly hits—all on country radio, mind you—including his career-first chart-topper: “I Forgot to Remember to Forget.” In June 1976, the reissue of the year peaked at No. 2 on the country album charts.

Charlie Rich – Silver Lining

Country soul singer Charlie Rich teamed here with producer Billy Sherrill for a gospel album that remains too little known. Silver Lining features the dynamic rhythm beds and harmony group arrangements, and the deeply felt and swung vocals, that were already beloved from Rich’s many seventies country hits. Indeed, the versions of “Sometimes I Feel Like a Motherless Child,” “The Milky White Way,” “Down by the Riverside,” “Why Me” and the rest would fit thrillingly on any of Rich’s albums in the decade. I especially appreciate the Silver Fox’s joyous, rousing intervention on the normally staid “Amazing Grace.”

Linda Ronstadt – Hasten Down the Wind

Mention Linda Ronstadt in a county music context and people will jump first to her Trio collaborations with Dolly Parton and Emmylou Harris, then maybe recall her contributions to the country rock scene of the late 1960s and early 1970s. But her most important and lasting contributions to country music were her several big radio hits in the middle of the decade. Hasten Down the Wind further cemented old-time rock and roll sounds as up-to-date country with her version of Buddy Holly’s “That’ll Be the Day” (a No. 27 hit) and reestablished Patsy Cline’s reputation for new country and rock fans with “Crazy” (a No. 6 hit). The album also paved the way for the acceptance of a certain type of arena rock balladry for countless country stars to come—especially with the pedal steel-powered “Try Me Again,” a song Ronstadt co-wrote with Andrew Gold.

The Seldom Scene – The New Seldom Scene Album

This is the Seldom Scene late in its classic lineup’s run (John Duffy, John Starling, Mike Auldridge, Tom Gray, and Ben Eldridge) as they put their newgrass stamp on old gems from the Stanley Brothers and a couple of new ones from Rodney Crowell (including harmony vocals from one Linda Ronstadt on his “California Earthquake”). This album has often been judged as lesser than earlier efforts by the Scene, but I love the way it leans so hard into eclecticism, which is this ensemble’s always-seen calling card. From the album’s opening, rolling-on-home version on Jimmy Buffett catalog cut “Big Rig” to their closing Dobro-and-harmony-forward cover of Hank Williams’ “Pictures from Life’s Other Side,” this set feels like one more tent pole for big-tent bluegrass.

Various Artists – Wanted: The Outlaws

Sitting atop the country album chart for two months early in the year, this compilation served as the national coming out party for a long-simmering scene that remains a genre touchstone to this day. Technically speaking, several of the album’s cuts weren’t Outlaw at all: Waylon Jennings and Jessi Colter’s duet “Suspicious Minds” had been released as a single before Jennings’ famously renegotiated his RCA contract, and two of Willie Nelson’s contributions, “Yesterday’s Wine” and “Me and Paul,” had already been released as a failed two-sided single before Nelson left Nashville for Texas. Time changes everything, though, and when rereleased in 1976, these cuts were understood to crystallize progressive-country sounds and the genre’s newly rebellious attitude. The first country album ever to be certified platinum, Wanted: The Outlaws nudged country music in the direction of becoming more explicitly an album-oriented format, just like rock, even as Outlaw country also became, ironically, country music’s next big pop crossover sound. Don’t sleep on Tompall Glaser’s fantastic version of “T for Texas”!

(Read more about Wanted: The Outlaws.)

Leona Williams – San Quentin’s First Lady

When Merle Haggard played a New Year’s Day show at San Quentin in 1976, his opener was Leona Williams, who was a member of his touring troupe as well as his future wife and songwriting partner. He wrote most of the songs she performed, and his band, the Strangers, backed her up. But make no mistake: This is the Leona Williams Show. She sings the husky hell out of “I Wonder Where I’ll Find You at Tonight,” “San Quentin” and “Workin’ Girl Blues,” and she and guitarist Roy Nichols both like to tear the placed down on “If Anyone Ought to Know.” San Quentin’s First Lady is long out of print, but do yourself a favor and track down it down on YouTube.

Hank Williams Jr. – Hank Williams Jr. and Friends

Hank Williams Jr. and Friends was recorded before the singer nearly died falling off a mountainside in April of 1975. But, like Elite Hotel above, it wasn’t released until December and didn’t chart until ‘76. Timelines aside, this is the album where Hank Jr. finally began to find a rocking, modern sound of his own in the swelling southern rock anthems “Losing You” and “Can’t You See” (by his friend Toy Caldwell of The Marshall Tucker Band) and tender ballads like “On Susan’s Floor” (by Shel Silverstein). But it’s the pair of minor hit singles that close the album, both Williams originals, that steal the show and predict his superstar future. The haunting “Stoned at the Jukebox” is a boozy honky-tonker about the loneliness that closes in after all your rowdy friends head home, while “Living Proof” wrestles with having to live up to family traditions. Among the very best country albums of the entire Outlaw moment.

Bobby Womack – BW Goes C&W

R&B legend Bobby Womack’s country album was summarily panned in its day, but working a bigger-tent understanding from here in the 21st century, it sounds awfully good to me. Womack leans hard into the soul of the already soulful Charlie Rich hit “Behind Closed Doors,” brings a playful modern bounce to the mid-century Eddy Arnold smash “Bouquet of Roses,” and makes over another Rich hit, “I Take It on Home,” into delightfully ragged countrypolitan. Most telling of all, as far as cracking open genre walls goes, is when Womack turns away from the Nashville songbook to underscore the country in his brother Curtis Womack’s “Don’t Make This the Last Dance” and the song Sam Cooke wrote for Womack’s old family group The Valentinos, “I’m Tired of Living in the Country.”

Lead image: Emmylou Harris, Elite Hotel; Waylon Jennings, Waylon Live; Jessi Colter, Jessi.

When Harmonies Run Deep: An Essential Roots Music Tradition

Posted on by Justin Hiltner

Since Jamie Dailey and Darrin Vincent began singing together as Dailey & Vincent in 2007, they have awed fans in many ways: through their musicality, their sincerity, and their professionalism. But most of all, it’s about their duet singing.

It’s the way their voices blend and weave, so closely it can be hard to distinguish one from another. It’s the way their so-tight harmonies set up a vibration that makes the world tilt a little bit when they reach the high notes. It’s the way we sigh after they stop singing, because all’s right with the world.

Although they aren’t related, Dailey & Vincent do the bluegrass phenomenon of a “brother duet” like nobody’s business. They capture the familial force that Grammy-winning bluegrass artist Laurie Lewis describes as delightfully “making the hair on our arms and legs stand up.”

With Dailey & Vincent as our Artist of the Month, we thought we would peek into the history and tradition of brother duets and other harmony-driven duos that led to this great contemporary partnership.

Two Brothers and Two Instruments

For bluegrass journalist, songwriter, performer, and teacher Jon Weisberger, the term “brother duet” refers to something very specific: “A brother duet is basically a guitar and a mandolin and two guys, and they could be brothers, like the Monroe Brothers or the Blue Sky Boys [Bill and Earl Bolick] or even the Delmore Brothers.”

But many of the early duos later added more musicians. “They became something else, in this sort of organic process … because they wanted to have a fuller sound and they wanted to be competitive on the radio…”

“This brother duet thing existed before bluegrass,” Weisberger continues, “and then it became part of bluegrass. Such that modern folks like Michael Daves and Chris Thile … are doing a lot of the original-style singing, with just two instruments. It says something about the vitality and the attractiveness of that style.”

Weisberger notes that Dailey & Vincent recorded Gillian Welch’s “By the Mark” with just their voices, a guitar, and a mandolin. There are many other similar examples in country, old-time, and other folk formats, but the style is still beloved – and common, thankfully! – in bluegrass today.

Brothers in Tone and Timing

For many, a brother duet has to do with the spine-tingling effect of very tight harmonies, in which every note matches up in every way. Laurie Lewis, who has taught harmony singing extensively and is known for her many duet recordings and performances, talks about it this way.

“It’s easy for brother duets or sisters to blend, because they grew up pronouncing all their words the same way, because they’re from the same place and the same family,” Lewis explains. “So, they’ve got a big leg up that way.

“The shape of a vowel is the most important thing to get right when you’re trying to blend with somebody. And consonants, you know, when you start or end the note. It’s placement, as well – where you place the tone: is it forward in your face? Is it back in your throat, or somewhere in between?”

Members of family bands and sibling duets often have the same vocal timbre – “high and lonesome,” in some cases, or deeper and more mellow in others. But, Lewis said, the brother effect can work even with singers whose voices have different qualities.

“Take Carter and Ralph Stanley, who sang so beautifully together and had really different voices. Carter’s was smooth,” she points out, while Ralph always had that rougher mountain quality.

Insights From Singing Brothers

Eric Gibson remembers when he and his brother Leigh first got the harmony buzz as teenagers. “We were working in the calf barn and I’d been listening to Jim & Jesse sing ‘Are You Missing Me?’ … I started singing it, and Leigh was maybe 10 or 15 feet away from me, when he hits the tenor. And I looked at him, and I just felt it, like, ‘What did we just do?’”

The Gibson Brothers have won national awards for vocal recordings, for songwriting, and for gospel albums. They both love using a horse racing analogy to achieve the brother duet sound. Leigh notes that in many duets and other harmony forms, the lead singer is out front, in volume and style. In contrast, Eric quotes Tim Austin as saying, “Your brother duet is like two racehorses. There’s not a lead horse out there with the harmony back here. They’re both fighting for position.”

Like horse racing, it takes discipline, and keeping the harmonies tight. “You have to stay on the straight and narrow.” The tenor singer has to follow the lead singer, and neither can add too much individual style.

Leigh adds, “You have to give some of yourself. If I wanted to throw our vocal thing into chaos, I’d start singing for myself rather than for the two of us.”

“It’s about really listening and even watching your duet partner,” he says, “how they’re shaping words, how they’re closing off a vocal sound, if it’s happening quickly or it’s a slow close off of that vowel sound.

“Listen and pay attention. I think that’s the best advice I could give anybody.”

Brothers by Birth

For a beautiful collection of brother duets drawn from some of the best and least-known brothers, visit the Gibsons Brothers’ 2015 album, Brotherhood. The liner notes are an engaging mini-history of brother harmonies.

Here are just a few of the other brothers who set the stage for the duets we hear today – and popularized or debuted many of the songs we still sing and love.

The Monroe Brothers

Let’s start with the Monroe Brothers. Bill, the father of bluegrass, began performing with his brothers Birch and Charlie (the uncles of bluegrass?) in the 1920s. Birch left the group when the other two accepted an offer to host their own radio show. The very popular partnership of Charlie on guitar and Bill on mandolin only lasted four years, because they both wanted to be the boss. Charlie continued assembling bands with musicians like Lester Flatt, Ira Louvin, and Curly Seckler. As for Bill, he launched a new genre of music that bears the name of his home state and his band, the Blue Grass Boys.

The Delmore Brothers

Alton and Rabon, the Delmore Brothers, grew up in a tenant farming family in Alabama. Grounded in church music, the Delmores distinguished themselves with their versatile songwriting, leading to membership in the Grand Ole Opry in 1933, extensive touring with Arthur Fiddlin’ Smith, and later with Grandpa Jones and Merle Travis. They are acknowledged as pioneers across country, bluegrass, and rockabilly circles. Songs like “Blues, Stay Away From Me” and “Gonna Lay Down My Old Guitar” remain standard bluegrass fare. Alton’s autobiography, Truth is Stranger Than Publicity, is a hoot and a half.

Blue Sky Boys

Bill and Earl Bolick first appeared on radio in 1935, when still in their early 20s. They later chose the name the Blue Sky Boys after Western North Carolina, Land of the Blue Skies. Steeped in gospel, their first recording, “Sunny Side of Life”/”Where the Soul Never Dies,” was such a big hit they earned the name “the New Hillbilly Kings.” They recorded 100 songs, both religious and secular, before joining the service. After the war they found they disliked newer music trends and they stopped playing entirely for a time when their label asked them to add electric guitar. The brothers played on and off, particularly at folk venues, until the late ’60s. Rounder Records pulled them out of retirement in 1975 for a bluegrass and folk tour.

The Lilly Brothers

Bea and Everett Lilly, the Lilly Brothers, performed on mandolin and guitar, influenced by the mountain music they heard in their home state of West Virginia. Their first local radio appearance was in 1938, and they later earned a spot on the venerated WWVA Jamboree. With Tex Logan and Don Stover – a configuration that would last 18 years – they moved to Boston, where they were welcomed in the folk scene. They are credited with bringing bluegrass to the Northeast, influencing musicians like Peter Rowan and Bill Keith. In Country Music: The Rough Guide, author Kurt Wolff quoted Bluegrass Hall of Fame inductee Joe Val as saying, “Those guys hit on like a bombshell. Nobody’d ever heard anything like that before.”

The Louvin Brothers

For many, the Louvin Brothers set the standard for brother duets. They began their duet career in the 1940s, continuing until 1963, when Charlie broke off from Ira for a solo career. Their harmonies were stunning, influenced by the shape note singing they grew up with, and their prolific writing and recordings left us with so many of the songs commonly heard in today’s bluegrass world. Their old-time religion permeated their work, as well as the life of the tormented Ira, who professed devotion while battling his demons. Emmylou Harris said, “There was something scary and washed in the blood about the sound of the Louvin Brothers.” The cover of their album Satan is Real is an apt visual representation of that thought. It is also the name of Charlie’s autobiography. Another great source is the Cocaine & Rhinestones episode on the Louvins.

Jim & Jesse

Jim & Jesse McReynolds from Colfax, Virginia are lauded as much for Jesse’s mandolin style as for their duet singing. Many of bluegrass’s most accomplished musicians passed through their band, the Virginia Boys, including Vassar Clements, Allen Shelton, Vic Jordon, Carl Jackson, and Glen Duncan. Their versions of songs like “Are You Missing Me” are mainstays of bluegrass jams, while they ventured into the folk rock world with “Paradise.” Jesse would later host a tribute to Jerry Garcia and Robert Hunter, too. Jim died in 2002 at age 75, ending what Wikipedia calls their 55 years performing together “the longest active professional brother duet in country music history.”

The Everly Brothers

Contemporary musicians from Graham Nash to Paul Simon have cited Don and Phil Everly’s duets as inspirational. Their harmonies were intricate, tight, and gorgeous. Coming from a country music background, they became hit pop stars, with “Bye Bye Love” in 1957. While many of their most popular songs were written by Felice and Boudleaux Bryant, the brothers were also prolific songwriters. They have been widely recognized by the music industry, from membership in the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame to a #33 ranking in Rolling Stone’s list of 100 greatest artists of all time. For an excellent review of their often tumultuous careers and relationships, pick up Blood Harmony: The Everly Brothers Story by Barry Mazor.

Sisters, Mothers and Daughters

Family bands featuring female singers have been popular for decades, even before the Carter Family blasted from radio stations in the 1930s. But sister duets have been less prominent than their brotherly counterparts. We can speculate that’s because, historically, women were less likely to venture out on their own, and because they were less welcome at the front and center of bluegrass and country.

But when these women stepped up, they truly shined.

The Whites

Sisters Sharon and Cheryl performed for decades with their father, Buck White, as the Whites. But it is their duet singing that ranks with the tightest and tingliest of any brother duo. Buck, a mandolinist and piano player, encouraged his daughters to take up music. The three recorded extensively beginning in 1972 and recorded “Keep on the Sunny Side” for the Grammy Award-winning O Brother, Where Art Thou? soundtrack. After Buck’s death in 2025, Sharon and Cheryl continue to perform, sometimes with Rosie, another sister, adding a high harmony. They have received highest honors in both the country and bluegrass fields, with more than 40 years as members of the Grand Ole Opry.

Kate & Anna McGarrigle

Kate and Anna McGarrigle were acclaimed Canadian folk singers and songwriters. Often passing the melody back and forth, it could be difficult to tell when one voice ended and the other began. Their harmonies were delicious. Linda Ronstadt had a big hit with the McGarrigles’ song “Heart Like a Wheel,” and Maria Muldaur, Emmylou Harris, and Judy Collins also covered their songs. Kate died in 2010.

The Judds

This mother/daughter duo certainly had the blood-harmony duet thing going big time with perfectly executed, soaring vocals. In a Cinderella-like story line, Naomi and her daughter Wynonna went from living on welfare to auditioning (in terror, as they described it) before a room full of recording executives – who signed them immediately. Within two years of the 1983 audition, they recorded the first of eight consecutive number one singles and received their first of five Grammys. Their family story is both fractious and inspiring.

More Essential Duets

Nowadays, it often seems the most common examples of high quality duet singing come from non-siblings, from chosen family, from lifelong musical partners. Turns out “blood harmony” is possible without the biological ties. (But of course it is.) Some of the best examples of the form are singers unrelated to each other.

Hazel Dickens & Alice Gerrard

Hazel Dickens and Alice Gerrard presented a side of duet singing that was at once sweet and gutsy. Although from very different geographic and social backgrounds, the pair came together through the Baltimore folk community in the 1970s. They sang with intense sincerity, performing older and traditional tunes and presenting Dickens’ heart-rending (and sometimes snarky) originals to the world. They were some of the first women to front a bluegrass act and are widely acknowledged as inspiring groundbreakers.

Ricky Skaggs & Tony Rice

In 1980, Ricky Skaggs and Tony Rice released what has become an iconic duet recording, Skaggs & Rice. Its content draws on traditional and pre-bluegrass tunes recorded by earlier brother duets. In fact, Weisberger points out, the album cover illustration, featuring the two men in uncomfortable-looking suits, is modeled after a Lilly Brothers photo. Skaggs and Rice taught us how two voices with starkly different qualities could blend, with sibling-like effect.

Ricky Skaggs & Keith Whitley

Skaggs and his wife, Sharon White, both sing in a high range, blending beautifully and adding intensity to everything they sing. And with his piercing tenor, Skaggs has the ability to create a brother sound with just about anyone. His partnership with Keith Whitley was equally natural, as they started singing together as teenagers in Kentucky. They began touring with the Stanley Brothers when they were both 16. In essence, they grew up together, as did their vocal blend.

Laurie Lewis & Tom Rozum

Laurie Lewis is another who can turn any duet into sibling-style harmonies. She and Tom Rozum have sung together for decades. Lewis said that in addition to working hard on their timing and pronunciation (the word “yours” was once problematic), they have the advantage of remarkably similar vocal ranges for a male and female. When they are both “in the head voice, you can really hear the tension in our voices,” an exciting aspect of their duets, she said.

Laurie Lewis & Kathie Kallick

Since the earliest configuration of Good Ol’ Persons, Lewis and Kathy Kallick have sung together, including producing two duet albums. Lewis said, “We have really different timbres to our voices. But we sometimes get confused as to who was singing which part on our old recordings. ‘Wait, is that me or is that Kathy?’” Lewis’ duet album, And Laurie Lewis, showcases her skill in joining voices with so many of her old friends.

The Johnson Mountain Boys’ Dudley Connell and David McLaughlin

Eric Gibson remembered terrific harmony singing by Dudley Connell and David McLaughlin in the Johnson Mountain Boys days. That revered group won the very first IBMA Award for Album of the Year (for At the Old Schoolhouse) and were inducted into the Bluegrass Music Hall of Fame in 2020. And since his days in the Johnson Mountain Boys, Connell has shown he, too, raises any duo to the level of glorious sibling sounds. Some examples are with bandmate Lou Reid in the Seldom Scene and his two duet albums with Don Rigsby.

Emmylou Harris & … Almost Everyone

The Gibsons both mentioned Emmylou Harris’ stunning ability to create tension and beauty in sibling duet style with so many. Examples range from her earliest recordings with Gram Parsons through all her singing partners in her band, including Ricky Skaggs and Rodney Crowell, and when she introduced a young country audience to the material of the Louvin Brothers on recordings such as “If I Could Only Win Your Love,” “When I Stop Dreaming,” and “Every Time You Leave.” Her 1990 duet album pairs her with male singers. In 1999, after the success of the Trio albums with Dolly Parton and Linda Ronstadt, she and Ronstadt recorded Western Wall: The Tucson Sessions, showing off the perfection of two beautiful singers who love to sing together.

Dailey & Vincent

Jamie Dailey and Darrin Vincent both grew up performing in family bands. Jamie started singing with his family at age 3, and by age 12 had mastered bass and banjo. For nine years, he sang lead vocals with Doyle Lawson & Quicksilver, a band noted for their excellent voices and superb harmonies.

An article in Entertainment News said the Vincent children “were practically raised on harmony” from their youngest days in the Sally Mountain Show. For nine years, Vincent sang the baritone parts with Ricky Skaggs’ Kentucky Thunder. The two men’s early training, the discipline gained from playing with exceptional band leaders, plus their perfect-for-bluegrass voices created a glorious blend of heartfelt harmony and musical excellence.

Their first album, released in 2008, was met with a flurry of enthusiasm. It earned the duo six IBMA Awards – including Album of the Year – plus two other nominations that year. They have continued to receive dozens of awards from bluegrass, country, and gospel organizations, as well as three Grammy nominations as a duo and two wins between them during their time with other acts. Their 10th album, A Beautiful Life, was released earlier this year.

Explore more of our Artist of the Month content on Dailey & Vincent here. Enjoy even more bluegrass duos here and country duos here.

Lead Image: The Louvin Brothers from Pictorial Press.

It’s Time to Induct Dolly Parton Into the Bluegrass Music Hall of Fame

Posted on by Justin Hiltner

Country superstar Dolly Parton died on August 25, 2026, and the entire world is mourning a beloved musician, singer, songwriter, and picker – and the bluegrass community has lost one of its most prominent global ambassadors.

Born in 1946, Parton enjoyed a resplendent and diverse musical career that spanned seven decades, beginning in her beloved Smoky Mountains in East Tennessee, where she grew up steeped in “old-timey” and “mountain music.” She would go on to be inducted into both the Country Music Hall of Fame and the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame (despite her objections to the latter honor), as well as the Nashville Songwriters Hall of Fame. In 2005 she was awarded the National Medal of the Arts and in 2006 she received the Kennedy Center Honors. Parton would garner 11 Grammy Awards and a Lifetime Achievement Grammy (and more than 50 additional nominations), three Emmy Awards, 13 ACM Awards, 10 CMA Awards, four IBMA Awards, and many, many more accolades and trophies – including two Academy Award nominations and an honorary Oscar.

While Parton is known as an artist and songwriter – reportedly penning more than 3,000 songs in her lifetime – she enjoyed a well-rounded career in many fields, in the arts and beyond, starring in films, writing and producing stage shows, plays, and musicals, producing films and TV, publishing and writing books, bringing food and home goods lines to market, planning a chain of truck stops – and being “Dreamer-in-Chief” of Dollywood, her namesake theme park in her home county in East Tennessee. In the most recent days of her life and career, Dolly was a truly ubiquitous celebrity and cultural figure, not just in the USA, but around the world.

It would be nearly impossible to overstate her influence not only in country, roots music, and Americana, but in bluegrass, too. Parton was a devoted proponent and picker of bluegrass over the course of her entire career; she released more than a handful of decidedly bluegrass albums out of her dozens of LPs. Two of them, The Grass Is Blue (1999) and Heartsongs: Live From Home (1994), are often regarded as two of her best releases of all time – especially The Grass Is Blue, reportedly touted by members of her own team and inner circle. And bluegrass touches and influences would show up across her body of work, including in her original musical and her film and TV projects. Even more old-time and mountain music threads have been woven through her musical output than straight-up-and-down bluegrass has, with bedazzled mountain dulcimers and autoharps and tin whistles just as common in her videos and stage appearances as her trusty rhinestoned guitars and banjos.

At the turn of the century, Parton released The Grass Is Blue as well as Little Sparrow (2001) and Halos & Horns (2002), partnering with iconic bluegrass and country label Sugar Hill. The albums arrived at a tumultuous and fraught time in Parton’s career, when daytime television talk shows and tabloids seemed to be her business (and music’s) bread-and-butter. She and her management successfully leveraged the sounds, aesthetics, and cultural signifiers of bluegrass with this trifecta of albums – which were musically excellent, though critics regarded some of them with mixed opinions – to yet again employ a “rags to riches” storyline, as she had her entire career.

At this relative low point of visibility in her career, experiencing a sort of commercial and pop cultural lull, bluegrass was there to spark the resurgence that would bring Dolly not only back into the mainstream, but would lay the foundation for the peak of her cultural magnitude in the 2010s and 2020s. It’s a storyline – a trope and an archetype – she had inhabited across her career, from the little “one room cabin” Tennessee mountain home to Hollywood and her white “limozeen.” But just like those earliest days of her young life, as a youngster singing into a tin-can microphone she fashioned with a stick on her front porch, bluegrass, old-time, and mountain music have always been at the core of Parton’s success and her broad appeal.

Her collaborations with Linda Ronstadt and Emmylou Harris, especially Trio (1987) and Trio II (1999), boast perhaps the most superlative bluegrass recordings Dolly ever cut, and they are certainly the most well-known. Although The Grass Is Blue listens as more traditional, straight-ahead bluegrass and is adored by ardent fans, the Trio albums had much larger audiences. Trio included “Those Memories,” written by Alan O’Bryant (Nashville Bluegrass Band) while Trio II credited Del McCoury (“I Feel the Blues Movin’ In”), Harley Allen (“High Sierra”), and the Seldom Scene’s John Starling (“He Rode All the Way to Texas”) as songwriters. To this day both McCoury and O’Bryant joke about their Trio cuts being their biggest hits – and McCoury will giggle as he admits he never wants to sing “I Feel the Blues Movin’ In” again after Dolly had done it. Parton’s voice always typified the ever-elusive “high lonesome sound” of bluegrass, as coined by its proverbial father, Bill Monroe, but especially so with her sharp soprano combined with the powerful belt of Ronstadt and the soft patina of Harris’s voice.

Both Trio albums have all-star bands as well, including (but not limited to) Herb Pedersen, Mark O’Connor, John Starling, and Ry Cooder (Trio) and Starling, O’Connor, Carl Jackson, David Grisman, Roy Huskey Jr., Edgar Meyer, Larry Atamanuik, and Alison Krauss (Trio II). That’s right, Krauss – in 1999 already a multiple Grammy winner with two RIAA Gold records – was a side musician on the project, playing fiddle on four of the tracks. Heartsongs also had an incredible and vast roster of bluegrass greats lending their talents: Alison Krauss, Carl Jackson, Huskey Jr., Suzanne Cox, Rhonda and Darrin Vincent, Ronnie and Rob McCoury, Randy Scruggs, Ron Block, Adam Steffey, Jerry Douglas, Viktor Krauss, and more.

On 9 To 5 And Odd Jobs, a concept album of working class songs built around “9 To 5” and released in late 1980 just before the eponymous hit film, Bobby and Sonny Osborne can be heard joining Dolly on the vocal trio on “Hush-A-Bye Hard Times,” while Sonny lends banjo elsewhere on the LP, too. Parton’s White Limozeen (1989), a cosmic crossover journey from the mountains to the discotheque and back again, was produced by Ricky Skaggs – who played guitar and mandolin on the project – and featured Béla Fleck performing its striking banjo parts, like on the delightful opening track “Time for Me To Fly.” Little Sparrow, The Grass Is Blue, and Halos & Horns have similarly deep, impressive, and virtuosic credits as the Trio projects and Heartsongs, covering vast swathes of the bluegrass scene in the ‘90s and aughts. All of your favorite bluegrassers have picked with the queen.

Parton had a habit of surrounding herself with the best in bluegrass, in the studio and on stage. On morning and late-night television appearances, or during awards show performances, Dolly would be surrounded by pickers like Sam Bush, Chris Thile, Jim Mills, Bryan Sutton, Barry Bales, Stuart Duncan, and many more. Whether promoting Heartsongs, The Grass Is Blue, Trio, Trio II – or even going far back into her career, in its earliest days – Parton brought bluegrass and its influences and textures to many millions on TV. And still many more millions all around the world with her recordings, songs, and collaborators.

It seems everyone agrees that, despite her stratospheric level of fame, Parton is remarkably down to earth, present, and accessible. Taking a sample of her many features on songs by bluegrass artists demonstrates this. An international superstar, she would still – over and over – offer up her talents and time to guest with bluegrass artists on their own recordings and releases.

“Heartbreaker’s Alibi” by Rhonda Vincent is a downright craveable modern bluegrass rager, with Parton and Vincent sharing vocal duties and harmonizing effortlessly as they loop, swirl, and embellish around each other. That would not be the only time the pair would collaborate. Parton has gone on the record more than once to gush about bluegrass singer-songwriter Claire Lynch, who sang background vocals with Dolly on The Grass Is Blue and Little Sparrow. It’s clear she’s a true fan and inhabitant of this music; Parton has also been featured on songs by the Grascals, Carl Jackson, Joe Mullins & the Radio Ramblers, Reneé Fleming & Béla Fleck, Ralph Stanley, Doc Watson, Earl Scruggs, and oh-so-many more. Her live television performance of “Mule Skinner Blues” with Bill Monroe is one of her most iconic videos and appearances; it’s perhaps equalled only by her reprise of the track on The Grass Is Blue – and her lovely, giggling ad lib on that recording, “I’m a lady mule skinner.”

Her many forays in and through bluegrass were never seen as interloping, and the bluegrass community would respond with near unanimous support. (Which, for bluegrass, ought to be easily rounded up to “unanimous,” with how opinionated and divided its fans can be.) Parton has been nominated for awards by the International Bluegrass Music Association six times in her career since 2000, when she won Album of the Year for The Grass Is Blue. She was also nominated for Female Vocalist of the Year then (and in 2001), but lost both years to, remarkably, Rhonda Vincent. In 2000, she appeared at the annual IBMA Awards show – hosted by her longtime friend and collaborator, Marty Stuart – in Louisville, Kentucky. Audience members, fellow nominees, and performers present that night speak about how kind, funny, and accessible she was then, too. Parton laughed and joked with Stuart at the lectern after performing a track from The Grass Is Blue, clearly right at home among her bluegrass family.

Parton has also won three IBMA Collaborative Recording of the Year awards and most recently two Gospel Recording of the Year trophies for “In the Sweet By and By” (2022, with Carl Jackson, Larry Cordle, Bradley Walker, and Jerry Salley) and “Sacred Memories” (2017, with Joe Mullins & the Radio Ramblers, Ricky Skaggs, and Sharon White). It’s notable that, despite all of these bluegrass bona fides and accolades, and the universal love felt for Dolly in the bluegrass community – professionally and otherwise – that she’s not been awarded a Distinguished Achievement Award by the IBMA or inducted into the Bluegrass Music Hall of Fame. One anonymous IBMA elector commented that, to their knowledge, she had not yet at any point even made the ballot for what’s regarded as bluegrass’s highest honor.

If Parton were to be inducted into the Bluegrass Hall of Fame, she would join Bill Monroe as the only inductees in history to be honored by the Bluegrass Music, Country Music, and Rock and Roll Halls of Fame. She is certainly deserving of that honor. While some would argue the Distinguished Achievement Award from IBMA would be a better fit, with its broader scope, it’s indisputable that Dolly Parton meets the criteria for induction into the Hall. The basic standard, the first measuring stick of the IBMA and its panel of electors by which to measure eligibility, reads thusly: “Candidates should be judged according to their contribution to the advancement of bluegrass music and the indelibility of that impact.” Indelible describes it, doesn’t it?

Dolly Parton’s impact goes still beyond her recordings, her network of pickers, her global reach, her awards, and her media appearances. She’s also been an economic driver of her own on a regional and national scale, with Dollywood booking dozens of bluegrass acts each year for their shows, festivals, and special events. It’s a rite of passage in bluegrass to perform at Dollywood, and the bluegrass and country on offer at the park by touring regional and national bands is always first rate. Bands and acts like Della Mae, Willow Osborne, Blue Highway, Sierra Hull, Flatt Lonesome, the Grascals, Hillary Klug, Dailey & Vincent, Doyle Lawson, the Boxcars, and innumerable others have played gigs at Dollywood. Plus, the park employs pickers and musicians for their entire season, local or traveling, to perform daily, some strolling the grounds with their banjos, and others in theatrical shows, revues, or straight-up string bands.

Dolly and her thousands of songs are essential to the bluegrass canon – and the greater American roots music songbook, too. Go to almost any bluegrass show, festival, or jam around the country and you’ll hear folks play her songs. “Jolene,” “9 to 5,” “Wildflowers,” “Silver Dagger,” “Coat of Many Colors,” “My Tennessee Mountain Home,” and “Smoky Mountain Memories” are just a few of her essential originals fully adopted and absorbed into the bluegrass lexicon. It’s quite the feat to be a songwriter, let alone a successful one, let alone so prolific – but to have your songs regarded as folk songs and also accepted as bluegrass standards? An even rarer feat.

Much ado is made, at length and at regular intervals, about bluegrass as a trend, or bluegrass “having a moment,” or the various bluegrass inflection points in pop culture or commercial music over its near century of history. Folks point to Old & In The Way as the best-selling bluegrass record of all time – until O Brother, Where Art Thou?, of course. Or they point out the astronomical success of Alison Krauss & Union Station, or the huge ticket sales of the post-O Brother Down From the Mountain Tour. Nowadays, we all look to Billy Strings as a harbinger of what’s possible and an indicator of how far the ceiling has been raised on bluegrass’s upper reaches.

From Deliverance or The Beverly Hillbillies, to Steve Martin and the Steep Canyon Rangers or Kesha jumping on stage with Mountain Grass Unit, to Billy Strings selling 40,000 tickets in one weekend in one city or Hardly Strictly Bluegrass Festival packing more than 500,000 fans into Golden Gate Park each fall, bluegrass has its “moment” often. Over and over. On a nearly predictable cycle, listeners and fans pour into this community, finding music they’ll love for the rest of their lives.

Meanwhile, Dolly Parton, one of the most recognizable figures in the entire world – and in the entire history of popular music and commercial music – had been earnestly, consistently, and subtly, despite the rhinestones and false nails and blonde wigs piled to the sky, bringing bluegrass to the masses. Among the many wildflowers she’s grown in the Smoky Mountain meadows of her career, we often lose the old-timey, mountain music, bluegrass “forest for the trees.” Parton had been a proselytizer for bluegrass for more than 70 years, before she even knew she was, and certainly, by the time she reached fame, deliberately and intentionally spreading the bluegrass gospel for the rest of her life.

Dolly Parton’s contributions to bluegrass – as a singer, a musician, a producer, an artist, a performer, a stylist, a storyteller, and as a songwriter – are vast, varied, and essential to this genre. Her love of bluegrass validated the form, and her commitment to propagating and perpetuating the music was one of the most “bluegrass” things about her. With her passing, bluegrass has lost perhaps its most consistent and beloved global ambassador.

Below, go back through the BGS archives and continue to explore Dolly Parton’s rich impact and influence on bluegrass:

Photo courtesy of the Country Music Hall of Fame ® and Museum.

Haylie Davis is Keeping Laurel Canyon Sounds Alive and Well

Posted on by Justin Hiltner

California dreaming has become a sonic reality once more. An affinity for 1960s and ‘70s Laurel Canyon sounds is alive and well, including acolytes from onetime Brooklyn punk-rockers across to Los Angeles-based former pop and R&B singers turned country-rockers. A new cohort of such artists based in Tovaangar (the traditional lands of the Tongva, the region including Laurel Canyon and all of what is now called LA) follows Jonathan Wilson’s coronation as “the New King of the Canyon,” and the historical book round-up Canyon of Dreams published at the end of the 2000s.

Influenced by Gram Parsons and other period icons, Northern California-born-and-raised singer-songwriter Haylie Davis is a shining star of this current Laurel Canyon wave. Her debut album Wandering Star – released June 5 on Fire Records – situates her well in the cosmic American music pantheon.

Davis has circled the Los Angeles music scene for a spell with previous musical incarnations being as one-half of country duo Will & Haylie (with Will Worden); the folksy Lady Apple Tree; and under her given name, Haylie Hostetter, contributing vocals to projects of her Canyon-rock peers. Davis descends from the sonic lineage of Jackie DeShannon, whose trailblazing 1968 Laurel Canyon presaged Ladies of the Canyon. Her other key foremothers are Mary McCaslin (Mary Noel Singing Bear, Kiowa Apache) – who got her start at the Troubadour Monday Hoot Night in the late ’60s, often plying imagery of old-timey California and the Wild West – as well as Wendy Waldman, who wrote incisive songs about the tangled love affairs of hip LA.

Davis’s pellucid soprano ascends to the stratosphere, displaying that she has the voice, sounds, and image of a singer-songwriter transported to an LA canyon of yore (she did live in Topanga) – and of a singer-songwriter that could be a big star in 2026. Indeed, Wandering Star, showing a young woman artist with mythopoeic songs with quiet thunder and heartfelt illumination, could be enshrined as Carole King’s Tapestry for a younger generation.

What was your musical upbringing like in Northern California?

Haylie Davis: I was fortunate. My high school had a really good music program, so I was able to take vocal ensemble. But guitar, I would say to this day, I’m not the best at guitar. I mostly just write with guitar. I picked guitar up when I was 16 and have since just been kind of figuring it out.

Do you figure out your songs by ear or do you read music from that teaching?

I don’t know how to read music. I don’t know, honestly, much about music theory. I’d say it’s mostly just by ear. I’ve tried to learn more in-depth about theory, but I feel like my brain has a hard time understanding it. It’s still kind of mysterious. I feel like I learned singing best from just mimicking and singing along to songs consistently.

So, how did the songs from Wandering Star flow to you?

I think it’s just kind of a sequel or it’s just a continuation of my first project, which was Lady Apple Tree. I have one album out under that name, and that album was very much a naive, youthful take on music, just kind of starting out. And I think that Wandering Star is kind of a progression of that into something a little bit more mature, a reflection of more time spent in Los Angeles, the people I’ve associated with, and just a little bit more of a growth, you know? I didn’t sit down and just write the whole album as is; I think songs just kind of trickle in as time goes on. And so those were just my favorites from that passage of time.

What was your approach to producing as you did on the new album? How did you find the studio that you used for it?

So, most of the songs were recorded at my friend’s studio named Ian Doerr. He’s not at the same place anymore, but at the time he was in Highland Park in Los Angeles and he has an all-analog studio called Love Magnet.

And I partnered up with Sam Burton, who was my partner at the time as well, and I would say he was probably one of the biggest influences on the sound. He was kind of like my confidant, someone I’d always be asking for his input and advice and his guidance. He’d been in the music industry longer than I had at that point so he had a lot more insight. I just thought that he has a very, very good ear for production, and I think he’s really good at nailing what a song needs. I call it a partnership just because I feel like he took the lead on most of it, but I also have a very specific way that I want things to sound, certain instruments I want on certain things, and certain drum beats, so I participated in that as well.

How do you command your stage?

I feel like that’s definitely been developed over the years, and it depends on if I’m by myself or with band. I was opening for this band called Nude Party, and they were, at the time, a six-piece or seven-piece band of all dudes. And they were kind of rowdy, you know? I showed up by myself. At first, it was kind of hard wrangling a crowd of people who were there to see a full band just playing by myself. I feel like I was almost catering toward them, trying to win their attention over, and it was hard. I was struggling. And then by maybe the third or fourth show, I remember just being like I don’t care. I’m over this. I’m just gonna go up there and play the songs for me and feel them as deeply as I can. And that show literally just switched the energy; people were receptive.

I learned a lot through that experience. I think I learned that it was about communicating the songs as best as you can. You have to go up there and be strong and be unapologetic.

What is the story behind my favorite of the album’s songs which is “Country Boy?”

I actually wrote that song a long time ago, when I was playing with the first band I toured with which was Sylvie and we were all playing together. And I just came up with this melody, chord progression, and words, and I didn’t do anything with it for maybe two, three years, at all. Then, all of a sudden, the rest of the song kind of came together when I was living in Altadena. I feel like most of the people and men I’ve interacted with in the music scene and just in Los Angeles have been transplants from the Midwest or the South and trying to make it in California.

On the topic of California, how do you feel about previous reviews linking you to the Laurel Canyon scene lineage? Do you identify with any of the artists from that history?

Identify is a strong word. I definitely listen, and I feel like they’re all very much close to my heart, you know, I listen to them quite a bit, and I feel like they’re very formative in my music and also how my life progressed. Linda Ronstadt, and Neil Young, and Joni Mitchell, those figures I feel like musically were very inspiring to me. So, I don’t mind comparisons; I get it. Obviously, my goal is to not replicate but make something of my own.

I saw that you’re a fan of Gram Parsons. Do you have any specific influence from him?

Oh yeah, most definitely! I love him. He’s probably one of my top artists as well. I just think that song “Hickory Wind” is maybe my favorite song. Every time I hear that song, I’m just blown away. He’s huge for me; I’m very inspired by him. I was lucky enough to stay at the hotel room that he passed away in, in Joshua Tree, for a couple nights on New Year’s 2026 – which was really special.

I really think Wandering Star could be an equivalent of Tapestry for your generation. I don’t know if you relate to that statement or not?

Thank you! Oh, wow!

Love. Well, it’s hard. I feel like it’s hard to be completely self-aware of […] it’s hard to see yourself how others see you, you know? I’m just like me, and I’m just out here trying to make it, trying to survive. But I appreciate that; it means a lot. Because it takes a lot of work. I like Carole King as well. But I will say, it’s interesting because I do think that there’s been a kind of exodus out of LA at the moment. I’ve moved to Brooklyn.

Since you’ve moved across Turtle Island do you think the “California Dream” is dead for artists?

I think that there are energy hubs, like New York, LA, certain places that I don’t think it’ll ever fully go away. But I do think that there are seasons for places in cities. And I think that, at least for this specific niche that I’m a part of, I think that it’s a little bit in a low season over in LA. I think that it’s swinging over to New York right now.

Speaking of California dreamin’, I heard that you made pictures previously with my friend the photographer Henry Diltz. Do you think what he shot is like the ones that he did for various legends?

I actually took those a few years back. I was dating this guy named Will Worden who plays music. He lives in LA and I don’t know how he got Henry Diltz’s info, but he did. [Henry] came by and just shot us and it was really, really cool. Like, obviously, he’s a legend. I haven’t really posted any of those photos, so maybe I’ll look back and check them out.

Are there some albums that you find you listen to in emotional times that help you through?

There’s some things I always go back to, but right now, I haven’t really been listening to Joni Mitchell that much. I feel like she’s someone that I can listen to at any time. Right now, I am going through a breakup, and it’s crazy, but I’m surprised by the music that I’ve been listening to… I’ve been really into the first Gipsy Kings album – the second song on that record, it just really hits. I’ve been really feeling it. I love Elliott Smith; I’ve been listening to him.

Oh, I’ve been listening to Anita Ward lately, too. She does “Ring My Bell.” You know that song? And she also has a song called “Spoiled By Your Love” that has been on repeat.

What else about Wandering Star do you want known?

One of the reasons why it feels special to me is because of the people who were working on it, just like how much dedication they shared and it means so much. Just a lot of care from people who didn’t have to do that, but they did. It’s like a nice pin in all of our timelines. It’s coming to a point where we’re all kind of moving in different directions in a lot of ways. And I’m happy to have this shared moment.

I’m just grateful for everybody who participated because honestly it couldn’t have happened especially as I was broke. I didn’t have any money to really do it, and everyone just kind of showed up and was there for it. That doesn’t always happen. You don’t always have people around like that, so I really, really appreciate them for that.

Photo Credit: Sarah Ward

The Other 22 Hours: Matraca Berg

Posted on by Justin Hiltner

We often treat commercial success as the final destination of a creative life, but for legendary songwriter Matraca Berg, it was just the first act. Her songs became major country hits for Martina McBride, Trisha Yearwood, Deana Carter, Kenny Chesney, the Chicks, Patty Loveless, and Reba McEntire, among many others. Matraca’s catalog defines generations of American songwriting.

LISTEN: APPLE • SPOTIFY • AMAZON • MP3

We sit down with the GRAMMY-nominated member of the Nashville Songwriters Hall of Fame on the Other 22 Hours to explore the realities of achieving massive success while battling paralyzing stage fright, the transition from the multi-platinum physical sales era of the 1990s to modern streaming, and how she keeps her creative tank full as the industry has changed around her. In a culture obsessed with youth and immediate output, Matraca offers a grounded, reassuring perspective on aging within an art form, artistic alignment, and learning to trust.

In This Episode:

– Matraca Berg
– Ep 147 – Jeff Hanna
– Sudie Calloway
– Mel Tillis
– Joni Mitchell
– Bluebird Cafe
– Clint Black
– Nanci Griffith
– Ep 60 – Lori McKenna
– Bobby Braddock
– Harlan Howard
– Ashley McBryde
– Gary Harrison
– Ep 28 – The Wood Brothers
– Zach Berkman
– Tiger King
– Chris Stapleton
– Ella Langley
– Jessi Colter
– Waylon Jennings
– Maggie Gyllenhaal
– Peter Sarsgaard
– Hill Country Barbecue
– Jake Gyllenhaal
– Minnie Pearl

Go Deeper: 

Watch: View this entire conversation above or on YouTube.
Explore: Find similar conversations in these themed playlists.
Connect: Join the conversation on Instagram.

The Other 22 Hours is hosted by Aaron Shafer-Haiss (producer, mixer, musician) and Michaela Anne (songwriter, artist, creative coach). More about Aaron’s work. More about Michaela Anne’s work.

Produced by Aaron Shafer-Haiss. Original music written, performed and produced by Aaron Shafer-Haiss.

Photo Credit: Glenn Rose

The Other 22 Hours: Jeff Hanna (Nitty Gritty Dirt Band)

Posted on by Justin Hiltner

As a founding member of the legendary Nitty Gritty Dirt Band and a three-time GRAMMY winner, Jeff Hanna has navigated nearly 60 years in the music industry. His resumé includes credits with the likes of Linda Ronstadt, Emmylou Harris, Johnny Cash, and many others. In this episode of the Other 22 Hours we explore the geography of inspiration, from the 1970s Troubadour scene in LA to his 40 years anchored in Nashville’s songwriting community. Jeff reflects on the economy of a perfect line, the creative vitality of a “hard reset,” and why the bedrock of this work has to begin with the simple intention of having fun.

LISTEN: APPLE • SPOTIFY • AMAZON • MP3

In This Episode:

– Jeff Hanna
– Nitty Gritty Dirt Band
– Matraca Berg
– Ep 16 – Rodney Crowell
– The Troubadour
– The Station Inn
– Vinyl Tap
– Jackson Browne
– Tim Buckley
– Poco
– Ep 144 – Suzy Bogguss
– Ep 43 – Gretchen Peters
– Stephen King, On Writing
– Jerry Jeff Walker, Mr. Bojangles
– The Mavericks
– Ringo Starr
– Levon Helm
– Sheryl Crow
– Fred Eltringham

Go Deeper:

Watch: View this entire conversation above or on YouTube.
Explore: Find similar conversations in these themed playlists.
Connect: Join the conversation on Instagram.

The Other 22 Hours is hosted by Aaron Shafer-Haiss (producer, mixer, musician) and Michaela Anne (songwriter, artist, creative coach). More about Aaron’s work. More about Michaela Anne’s work.

Produced by Aaron Shafer-Haiss. Original music written, performed and produced by Aaron Shafer-Haiss.

Photo Credit: Joshua Britt and Neilson Hubbard

BGS 5+5: Lauren Lovelle

Posted on by Justin Hiltner

Artist: Lauren Lovelle
Hometown: Newton, Kansas
Latest Album: My EP, Other Dreams, released September 9!
Personal Nicknames (or rejected band names): Lolo or Lo. I really liked the band name “Lauren Lovelle and the Matter Babies,” too.

Which artist has influenced you the most – and how?

I’ve always been mesmerized by Linda Ronstadt’s voice, and the passion she channels when singing. She pours her entire heart out. Every song she ever sang felt like it was completely her own.

What’s your favorite memory from being on stage?

My favorite memories onstage are with my dad’s band as a child. There is something supernaturally special about making music with kin. I started playing with him when I was four. The memories of my father and grandpa teaching me to play and perform pass through my mind to the soundtrack of that ABBA song, “Thank You For the Music.”

“Thank you for the music, the songs I’m singing/ Thanks for all the joy they’re bringing… Thank you for the music, for giving it to me.”

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

I absolutely love to dance. It’s so necessary and healing. Just like my therapist would tell me to do with emotions, I like to identify where exactly I feel the song in my body. It can be powerful to share the emotional embodiments of the songs with the band to help us communicate and feel it as a unit. Sometimes, I write something that I feel in my legs and feet and it makes me want to stomp and strut around the stage. Sometimes I write something in my shoulders and chest and it makes me feel like I’m floating. Sometimes the song springs from my gut or hips where it feels more natural to dig my feet in, staying planted and upright.

If you didn’t work in music, what would you do instead?

I’m a nursing school dropout. I was a CNA for awhile, so I could’ve likely continued down that path. I always told my mom I’d be a truck driver so I could listen to music and sing in the car as loud as I want all day. But when I was old enough to find out they can’t smoke weed, I decided that was no longer in the cards for me.

Since food and music go so well together, what is your dream pairing of a meal and a musician?

It’s simple, but listening to Hank Williams and eating beans or chili and cornbread feels right. I have done it before on purpose and by accident. Real cowboy meal. Makes me feel close to my grandpas.

Photo Credit: Deanie Chen

Bluegrass Memoirs: The Earl Scruggs Revue Early Recordings

Posted on by Justin Hiltner

In our last Bluegrass Memoir, “Beginnings,” I described David Hoffman’s documentary, Earl Scruggs with his Family and Friends. By the time NET aired it, the Revue was already off and rolling with Earl’s new music.

In 1970, bluegrass festivals – the first was in 1965 – were becoming quite popular. The music’s supporters had discovered that such events could present their favorite music to broader, younger, urban audiences. These larger crowds brought their tastes and preferences with them. At these booming festivals, new acts like the Earl Scruggs Revue spoke to musical perspectives shaped by contemporary popular music.

The Revue played to large numbers at Monroe’s Bean Blossom Festival that spring and to Carlton Haney’s Camp Springs Festival on Labor Day weekend. Earl’s solo album, Nashville’s Rock, and Randy and Gary’s solo album, All the Way Home, were released that year.

The Earl Scruggs Revue at Bill Monroe’s annual Bean Blossom festival, Bean Blossom, Indiana, June 1970. (L-R) Unidentified bassist, Jody Maphis, Randy Scruggs, Earl Scruggs, Gary Scruggs, and Leah Jane Berinati. Photo by Carl Fleischhauer.

In 1971, Columbia released Earl Scruggs: His Family and Friends (C 30584), a soundtrack album that included much of the content of Hoffman’s documentary along with two additional fine vocals by Doc Watson. In its liner notes, Don DeVito characterized the show’s topic:

Earl Scruggs is a man who has paid his dues. You can forget the generation gap … Earl has always been an innovator and an adventurer…

Also in 1971, newgrass music emerged. Its key figure at that time was singer-songwriter and banjoist John Hartford, whose “Gentle on My Mind” had been a 1967 Glen Campbell hit. John had flourished in the LA television business as a writer for The Smothers Brothers Comedy Hour and a performer on The Glen Campbell Goodtime Hour.

Hartford and Scruggs – they’d met in 1953 – had developed what Bob Carlin, in My Memories of John Hartford (University Press of Mississippi) calls “a deep friendship.” When Hartford returned to Nashville in 1971, he recorded what is now considered the first newgrass album, Aereo-Plain. The Revue’s Randy Scruggs played bass on this ground-breaking disc alongside Tut Taylor, Vassar Clements, and Norman Blake.

The Revue and Hartford were at the center of Nashville’s jam-based music, which embraced musicians from new scenes blending rock and older genres – folk, bluegrass, and country. Both bands appeared at a number of bluegrass festivals in 1971 and the Revue was busy recording in Nashville.

I Saw The Light With Some Help From My Friends (1972)

Earl was working on his next album, I Saw The Light With Some Help From My Friends: Earl Scruggs with Special Guest Stars. The back liners of the album (Columbia KC31354) described it as “Earl Scruggs and The Earl Scruggs Revue in performances with Linda Ronstadt/The Nitty Gritty Dirt Band/Stacey Belson and Arloff Boguslavaki.”

Stacey Belson was a pseudonym for blues singer Tracy Nelson, then with the band Mother Earth. Arloff Boguslavaki was Bob Dylan’s pseudonym.

Bill Williams’ liner notes describe the fabulous jam sessions that were happening at the Scruggs family house – hence the album’s concept:

Picture, if you will, the group sitting around together at the Scruggs home (although the actual locale was shifted to Columbia Studios) …

For this album, the studio became the living room and the producer was Don Law, the Nashville vet who’d worked in the ’30s with blues legend Robert Johnson and western swing pioneer Bob Wills and in the ’50s with Flatt & Scruggs.

At this Scruggs family jam session were Earl and sons along with their Madison High School contemporary, drummer Jody Maphis. Also in the room were fiddler Vassar Clements, in the process of moving from Hartford’s band to join the Revue, and several others who’d later join the Revue, including pianist Bob Wilson, a Detroit R&B musician who’d moved to Nashville and subsequently recorded with Bob Dylan.

Each of the featured star guests are heard in solo, sometimes singing in harmony with each other. Earl plays on every cut. Great to hear his backup work with all its nuances! Randy’s lead guitar and Vassar’s fiddling appear throughout.

It was as if these people had showed up at the Scruggs home one evening to play for and with each other – an old-fashioned domestic music session, with the host going around the room inviting each to perform and providing musical backups for all. The evening’s repertoire was the kind of stuff you might expect at such an event: mostly recent country, folk, blues and rock – things you might have heard on the radio lately in 1971.

The sound was that of contemporary popular music, suggesting that this was what you’d hear if the Earl Scruggs Revue came to your living room, festival, or auditorium.

The album’s first side opens with an LA country soul rock tune, Bonnie and Delaney’s “Lonesome and a Long Way From Home.” Gary is singing lead and playing bass; Nelson adds harmony. This is rocking R&B – Wilson’s piano opens the break and, with fiddle and drums, keeps it rocking to the end. Earl’s banjo is out front throughout.

Next comes Merle Haggard’s “Silver Wings,” sung by Linda Ronstadt with harmony by Nelson. The backup piano and Dobro are joined by a fiddle break. Straight-ahead Nashville country.

Track three features “Boguslavaki” (Dylan) singing Charles E. Baer’s 1896 hit, “It’s a Picture From Life’s Other Side,” a song that had gone into the folk tradition and been frequently recorded by hillbilly and gospel singers in the ’20s and ’30s. The laid-back fiddle, bass, and drums, along with Nelson’s harmony on the chorus, mark this as a parlor folksong.

It’s followed by Nelson’s performance of “Motherless Child Blues,” where accompanying musicians Earl, Norman Blake, Randy, and Vassar stretch out with some nice blues breaks.

This side closes with Mike Nesmith’s “Some of Shelley’s Blues,” performed with members of the Nitty Gritty Dirt Band, with Gary Scruggs and Jeff Hanna doing the singing and Earl and Randy both taking instrumental breaks.

The second side of the album opens with a vocal by Gary on another Bonnie and Delaney cover, “Never Ending Song of Love.” Ronstadt sings a county cover, Cash’s “Ring of Fire.”

Dylan brings out another pre-war country folk oldie, a great “Banks of the Ohio.” While Nelson is featured singing folksinger Bruce “Utah” Phillips’ “Rock Salt and Nails,” a song first recorded by Flatt & Scruggs in 1965, with Ronstadt adding harmony on the chorus.

The Nitty Gritty Dirt Band contributes another Nesmith song, “Propinquity.” The side closes with the album’s title track, a sing-along for everyone, “I Saw the Light.” The album was released in 1972.

Will the Circle Be Unbroken (1972)

Around the same time as I Saw The Light was made, banjoist John McEuen of the Nitty Gritty Dirt Band asked Earl to be on their new three-LP concept album, Will The Circle Be Unbroken. Scruggs was playing in Denver with the Revue when he and McEuen met. The Dirt Band’s sound, with McEuen’s skilled Scruggs-style banjo, appealed to him, as did their project to honor and make music with the earlier generation’s pioneers. That had been his own goal in bringing Maybelle Carter into the studio to record with Flatt & Scruggs back in 1961.

Earl, well-connected in Nashville as an Opry star with record, television, and movie hits, helped bring a number of his country music friends into the project. Both Gary and Randy were also involved, as were several of Hartford’s Aereo-Plain band members, notably fiddler Vassar Clements and Dobro player Norman Blake.

Unlike Earl’s Nashville’s Rock album, which covered recent rock and pop hits on the banjo with Nashville studio backing including electric instruments and, on several cuts, a soulful female vocal trio and a string section, this album had completely acoustic backup by the Dirt Band as they covered legacy hits by country, bluegrass and folk pioneers like Roy Acuff, Maybelle Carter, Doc Watson, and Jimmy Martin.

Earl played a pivotal role in the making of these recordings, playing guitar or banjo on sixteen tracks. The whole Scruggs family can be heard: Randy contributed guitar, autoharp, or voice on eleven tracks, Gary sang on eight, and Louise and Steve sang on one track.

Of the many interesting performances on this award-winning album, Randy Scruggs’ acoustic guitar version of “Both Sides Now” was perhaps the most remarkable; the final selection in the set, it followed a group sing-along of the title track, similar to the closing on the Earl’s I Saw The Light, in which all of the Scruggses sang. These recordings, released in 1972, were made in August 1971.

The Scruggs Brothers (1972)

Also recorded in 1971 was Gary and Randy’s second Vanguard album, The Scruggs Brothers (Vanguard VSD 6579). Some of the same musicians who played on I Saw The Light performed here, like Tracy Nelson, the Dirt Band’s Jeff Hanna and John McEuen, pianist Bob Wilson, and drummer Karl Himmel; but the album had more of a country rock sound. It opened with “Little Maggie,” a song Flatt & Scruggs had recorded at Carnegie Hall in 1962. With Gary’s bass and Jody Maphis’ drums leading the way, it sounded something like the Nashville studio A-listers Area Code 615’s 1969 version.

Throughout the album, Randy played a majority of the solo breaks, some on acoustic guitar but most on electric, in a heavy metal style similar to what I heard him playing in Maine in 1975. Four tracks were their own compositions, two by Gary and two collaborations.

On one, the instrumental “Trousdale Ferry Rag,” Earl played banjo. This up-tempo, bluegrass-style piece has an unusual ending, shifting to a slow blues beat. Most notable is Gary’s “Lowlands,” a great ballad set to the tune of Earl’s “Sally Ann,” which both brothers had been hearing at home all of their lives (Flatt & Scruggs recorded it in 1960). Gary plays guitar, Randy picks banjo.

Covers of older (dare we say traditional?) material includes a rocking version of Jimmie Rodgers’ “T for Texas,” and the other cut on which Earl played banjo, “Hobo’s Lullaby,” which features a sing-along chorus similar to that on the closing of the I Saw The Light and Will The Circle Be Unbroken albums. Another older piece was “The Johnson Boys” (Flatt & Scruggs did it 1962) on which John McEuen’s frailed banjo created the album’s most old-timey sound.

The Earl Scruggs Revue at Bill Monroe’s annual Bean Blossom festival, Bean Blossom, Indiana, June 1970. Randy Scruggs, Earl Scruggs, and Gary Scruggs. Photo by Carl Fleischhauer.

The boys’ continuing involvement with country rock is reflected in two songs that originated in 1967 with the LA band Hearts and Flowers. “Rock and Roll Gypsies,” which closes the first side of the album, seems to have been an attempt to garner radio play – it’s the only track on the record to include string section backup. The other Hearts and Flowers-connected track, “Bugler,” a sad song about the death of a dog, had recently been covered by Clarence White with the Byrds.

Live at Kansas State (1972)

During this year of extensive studio recording, the Revue was also out playing on the road. Although Earl Scruggs: His Family and Friends included a few examples of the group in action outside the studio, Live at Kansas State (Columbia KC 31758) was their first full show album.

Many of the songs the Revue did at this 1972 concert remained in the band’s regular repertoire and showed up, for example, at the 1975 Maine concert, including “T for Texas,” “Paul and Silas” (they titled it “Bound in Jail All Night Long”), “Sally Goodin[g],” “Carolina Boogie,” “Everybody Wants to Go to Heaven,” and “Foggy Mountain Breakdown.”

Several were on their recent albums, like “You Ain’t Going Nowhere” and “Both Sides Now.” Bluegrass classics included “Good Woman’s Love” and “Bugle Call Rag.”

In 1998, a reviewer for No Depression wrote that Live at Kansas State was “probably their album most deserving of a full reissue … a surprisingly cohesive ‘bluegrass-rock’ blend, the likes of which has seldom been heard since.”

In 1972, the band included fiddler Vassar Clements and Dobroist Josh Graves, a bluegrass icon who’d just left Lester Flatt’s band. The album package has several photos of the band; these are notable in that they include everyone but pianist Bob Wilson, who is very much present in the album’s audio.

Wilson had moved to Nashville from Detroit’s R&B scene. His first years in Nashville were slow going, but that changed when Bob Dylan came to town to record Nashville Skyline and wanted “a funkier piano sound than the usual Nashville cat could produce.” The success of his work on Dylan’s album gave him plenty of studio work and he also found time to go on the road with Scruggs.

“When I was with the Earl Scruggs Revue,” he recalled, “Earl always introduced the band, and when he came to me, he always told the crowd, ‘And this is the man who played piano on Nashville Skyline, Bob Wilson.’ I must admit the applause felt really good.”

In his memoir, Bluegrass Bluesman, Graves spoke of the challenges he enjoyed while rocking with the Revue: “Earl and that bunch forced you to work up new licks. You had to come in there on the stuff they were playing. It was so loud I couldn’t hardly stand it, but I really enjoyed it. It opened a lot of doors for me. They were into a lot of things. …”

“Earl was doing the same old tunes with a little modern touch. Earl got bored with bluegrass – I’ll tell you that. He just didn’t want to play it anymore. They had that big beat, that sound behind it, and that’s what he liked.”

“He’d play ‘Foggy Mountain Breakdown’ with that band and people would go wild.”

I saw this, too, in Orono in 1975.

The Revue carried on into the early ‘80s, with albums that drew from contemporary pop music and brought younger country, folk, and rock stars in as guest artists. We’ll touch on a few of these next time.

(Editor’s Note: Read our prior Bluegrass Memoir on the Earl Scruggs Revue here.)

Neil V. Rosenberg is an author, scholar, historian, banjo player, Bluegrass Music Hall of Fame inductee, and co-chair of the IBMA Foundation’s Arnold Shultz Fund.

Photo of Rosenberg by Terri Thomson Rosenberg.
Inset black and white photos by Carl Fleischhauer, courtesy of Carl Fleischhauer.

Edited by Justin Hiltner.

Laurie Lewis Chooses Tenacity Over Hope on New Album, ‘Trees’

Posted on by Justin Hiltner

Counting John Prine, Linda Ronstadt, and Wendell Berry among her fans, Laurie Lewis is arguably one of the most diversely influential figures in American roots music culture. She’s a songwriter, fiddler, frontwoman, performer, producer, teacher, and mentor. She’s been nominated for multiple Grammy awards and graced the stage at the Grand Ole Opry. The International Bluegrass Music Association has twice named Lewis Female Vocalist of the Year, and the association’s former executive director, Dan Hays, once called her “one of the preeminent bluegrass and Americana artists of our time and one of the top five female artists of the last 30 years.”

Lewis’s latest release — her 24th full-length record — pairs the artist’s musical mastery with her willingness and courage to face the full spectrum of life’s experiences. From personal grief to environmental despair, Lewis does not shield her eyes from difficult truths. In many ways, the album pays homage to its namesake, trees. When asked why, Lewis notes their tenacity. When something is tenacious, it grips firmly, with determination and persistence. Even in the face of immense challenge and uncertainty, trees abide in their purpose and work — and so does Laurie Lewis.

TREES is a long-play collection of songs that tenderly, earnestly, and sometimes joyfully explore what it means to exist on a vulnerable planet through times of loss and love. Supported by a band of masterful collaborators — Haselden Ciaccio (bass, vocals), Brandon Godman (fiddle, vocals), Patrick Sauber (banjo, vocals), George Guthrie (banjo, vocals, guitar), Tom Rozum (vocals, cover art), Andrew Marlin (mandolin), Sam Reider (accordion), and Nina Gerber (guitar) — Lewis dives into the deep end of sorrow and change with tenderness, authenticity, and Americana storytelling prowess.

In the album’s liner notes, Lewis shares that TREES is the first project she’s made in nearly 30 years without the mandolin accompaniment of her partner Tom Rozum, who recently developed Parkinson’s disease. “This collection represents a difficult transition in my musical life,” Lewis shares. “Think of it as ‘Music Minus One.’”

From bright bluegrass tracks like “Just a Little Ways Down the Road” to the somber invocations of “Enough” and “The Banks Are Covered in Blue,” this album is intricate and complex, much like a healthy forest. The album brings us “Quaking Aspen,” showcasing Lewis’s characteristic lyrical fiddle style, and title track “Trees,” an a cappella bluegrass-gospel ballad that gently yet hauntingly denounces the violence of industrial civilization.

Always looking to the natural world for strength and guidance, TREES is about love — for life, for land, and for people. But love isn’t a purely hopeful or romantic thing; it encompasses both loss and pain, and Lewis gracefully and vulnerably reckons with both on this album.

You just returned from a string of shows playing songs from the new album. Where did you go?

Laurie Lewis: My string of shows was actually mostly a river trip. So I did play every night, but I was mostly spending the days in the canyons… On the Yampa River, which starts in Colorado and goes into Utah and flows into the Green River. It’s a really, really beautiful canyon.

I love that. When you were playing shows, how did it feel to share these new songs with the world?

I’ve been doing a lot of songs from the new album, yeah, and I’m really enjoying that. But also, in any of our sets with my band, we pull out the old ones, too.

Speaking of the older stuff, I listened to your first solo record, Restless Rambling Heart, directly after listening to your newest record from start to finish. The first thing I noticed was that the tempo has downshifted quite a bit from that first release. Does TREES feel more introspective to you than other records you’ve made?

Oh yeah, it definitely does — especially compared to Restless Rambling Heart.

You’ve collaborated with the great poet, writer, and activist Wendell Berry — he asked you to set some of his poems to music. What was that experience like?

It was really fantastic. I’m such a fan of Wendell Berry’s writing. It came about because I was putting out a songbook and the publisher said, “Well, you need to get some blurbs for the back.” I happened to be at a writing workshop and one of the writers there said, “Hey, do you know Wendell Berry?” And I said no, and he said, “Well, he’s a big fan of yours.” [He had been] at a writing conference with Wendell and Wendell asked if he knew me and, you know, small world sort of thing.

So I thought, Well, how do I get in touch with him? Maybe he could write me a blurb, who knows? But [Wendell] famously doesn’t do e-mail or anything like that, so I got his mailing address and wrote him a long-hand letter on one of those yellow legal pads, you know, and I sent it off to him. And lo and behold, he wrote back. He said, “Well, I really don’t know anything about music, and my wife says I can’t carry a tune in a bucket, so hadn’t I better say no to writing a blurb?” And I thought, Well… that’s a question, so it deserves to be answered. So I wrote back and said, “Of course you should say yes, because really, the only prerequisite for saying you like something is that you actually like it. It doesn’t matter that you don’t have a background in music. It’s a personal response.”

And he said, “Well yeah, okay. I’ve been telling people I’m not writing blurbs anymore because too many people ask me, but didn’t I write something in that first letter that you could take out [and use]?” And there was this really nice thing…

So we just ended up having this back-and-forth conversation. He sent me some books. I sent him some CDs. I finally got a chance to meet him, but eventually I just felt like this is a person who is so conscientious, he’s going to respond to whatever I write. And he’s so busy, and he’s got so much stuff to do, I don’t want to bother him anymore. So I kind of dropped the correspondence. I wish I hadn’t, but it felt like the right thing to do. I just didn’t want to be that pestering voice that he felt he had to write back to.

Did he get back in touch with you at some point? Is that how his request came to light?

In the midst of all our back and forth, he sent me a poem in the mail and asked if I wouldn’t mind terribly trying to put it to music. So I did. That was “Burley Coulter’s Song for Kate Helen Branch.” It was quite a puzzle, because it’s not a standard rhyme scheme or anything. I had to make it loop around like a little crooked fiddle tune to make it really work.

Trees aren’t just the theme of this album — they’re growing all over your creative imprint. Your label is called Spruce and Maple Music, for example. What is it about trees specifically that inspires you?

I love the tenacity of trees — the way they just wait ‘til you get out of the way and then come back. … There are too many humans on the earth. We take up way too much space and way too many resources and we’re crowding everybody else out. And by “everybody else” I mean all the animals and plants and everything that also shares our earth. I just feel that, you know, trees are these beneficent beings that just wait and take their time and come back whenever they’re given a chance. They’re responsible for the oxygen we breathe and for taking in the CO2 we release. They’re sort of purifying everything. So it makes me feel very hopeful… If we just get out of the way a little bit, trees can come in and help set the planet right again.

Speaking of trees, the title track on this album is written from such a unique perspective. You literally embody the voice of the trees. How did this idea come about? Had you written from the perspective of the natural world before?

Well actually, “The Maple’s Lament” … I think that was the first time I tried to embody a tree. But I’ve done a few songs like that since. “American Chestnuts,” from my Skippin’ and Flyin’ album is from the voice of the American chestnut trees, which were the main tree along the Appalachian Mountains before the Chinese chestnut blight.

Have you read The Overstory by Richard Powers?

You know, I have, and I thought, Well, this is my song! [Laughs] But I wasn’t inspired by the book.

I personally take comfort in the knowledge that the world will go on spinning without us, despite how powerful we imagine ourselves to be. What sustains you as a sensitive person who feels the weight of what’s happening in and to the world? What carries you through?

Well, that’s that hope – [in] the other beings on the earth, their ability to repair the damage we’re doing. But I don’t hold out a lot of hope for human beings to rein in our excesses. I just don’t. I unfortunately do not see that happening in a timely enough manner to prevent, for instance, desertification of much of the earth’s crust. I’ve never said this stuff in an interview before, but yeah– I do not hold out a lot of hope.

I really appreciate you saying that. I feel like we’re often pressured to feel hopeful, but sometimes it feels more important to just be present with our grief about what’s happening to the world. Where did your deep relationship with and love for the natural world begin?

Oh boy, well, lots and lots of places. From ages three to eight, I lived in Ann Arbor, Michigan, in this new subdivision a block from the country. I loved to ramble in the woods and just see the farms and stuff like that. When my family [moved to] Berkeley, California, it was really a shock for me, and I have to say, Tilden Park probably saved my life. It’s a big regional park that’s up over at the top of the Berkeley Hills. It’s a huge park — you could get lost in it for days. Being able to take the bus to the top of the hill and disappear into Tilden Park when I was a kid was the best thing ever, and it really helped me through a lot. So I would say Tilden was maybe the first place where I really sought refuge in the natural world.

In addition to environmental grief, you’ve spoken about the role personal grief played in the creation of this album, and the presence of these feelings is very tangible throughout. Has some part of you had to practice becoming more vulnerable as an artist over time, or did the process of sharing your pain through your songwriting come naturally?

I have been accused throughout my career of writing songs that are a little bit too easy to figure out, you know, where they’re from. They’re personal songs — people have noted that. [But] maybe they’re putting stuff in them that’s not actually there, and I believe that to be the case on some of the stuff. Writing has always been my best source of communication with the world and I think I’ve always just written from an emotional place. If my songs are deeper now, it’s because events in life are a lot harder when you’re 73 than when you’re 23 or 33 or 43.

One of the more uncommon forms of grief is the grief over the loss of one’s own voice. A few years ago, you lost your singing voice for six months. What was that experience like for you, as someone who’s spent so much of your life using your voice to connect with the world?

It was terrible. It was paresis, [so] the right side of my neck muscles were paralyzed, and I couldn’t move my larynx on the right side. It made singing very, very difficult, until it got to a point where my voice just quit. And I thought, I’m not gonna sing anymore. It took about six months to recover, and it hasn’t completely recovered. My voice is different now.

It was a very difficult time. I went to many doctors, and one said, “Well, you have about a 50/50 chance of getting your voice back.” And I’m going, “Those odds are just not good, you know? It could happen or not — it’s a coin toss.” That freaked me out.

But some amazing things happened in that time. I have an annual gig, the concert I do at the Freight & Salvage here in Berkeley, my hometown, over Thanksgiving weekend. When I had no voice, I didn’t want to give up my night, so I asked my friends to come and sing my songs. I put together a folder of tons of songs and nobody picked the same song. It was amazing. It was the most incredible healing night of music for me. I mean, it was really the best Laurie Lewis show ever and I never opened my mouth except to speak a little bit. It was really lovely. Out of anything, I think that helped me get my voice back.

I’m honestly tearing up a little hearing you talk about that. It really speaks to the power of community. Speaking of community and audiences, who do you write music for? When you’re writing a song or recording an album, do you have a particular listener or audience in mind?

Just myself, really. It’s very selfish. [Laughs] I mean, I just write for myself, what I’m feeling or what I’m observing. … That’s always the starting point. If I think up a story, it’s because I want to tell the story, you know? I want to hear the story. If it’s an emotional thing, it’s because it’s something I’m dealing with or going through. But after the initial thought, I try and use my craft to make the songs better so that somebody can actually understand what I’m singing about and talking about in my music. And that’s really the most gratifying thing, when a listener really responds. It’s just great.

You’ve described your music, particularly on this album, as a way of interpreting the voices of the landscapes you adore. How do you experience or receive the voices of the natural world? How did you learn to listen for these much-needed voices?

I’ve always been a fairly quiet person. I listen more than I speak. I’ve had to actually learn to speak, you know, out loud. But I think I just have an observational approach to the world. I would rather listen and observe people talking to me than jump in and add my own spin or make a lot of noise myself. The same thing is true in my relationship with the natural world. I’m an avid walker and I find that walking and listening and looking in the natural world is my favorite thing to do.

Do you have a favorite song on the album?

I like a lot of them actually. You know, they’re different moods. Speaking of walking, “Just a Little Ways Down the Road” I find to be just so fun to sing and play. And of course, “Enough.” It’s heart-wrenching for me. It’s still hard for me to play that song in public. It requires a really different audience. It’s not a festival song. It’s much quieter, so I hold it back a lot. I just love the sound of the instruments on that cut. But I really like them all, from “Just a Little Ways Down the Road” to “Rock the Pain Away.”

It depends on the mood too. If I talk about John Prine and I sing that song [“Why’d You Have to Break My Heart?”], that really goes over well with audiences. I truly appreciate that people connect with that song.

Do you have a favorite tree?

[Laughs] No. I do not have a favorite tree.

Fair enough. [Laughs]

The California buckeye – I think it’s the prettiest little tree ever. But then I see another, you know? I was just out in Colorado among the junipers. That was the main tree alongside the river, junipers and cottonwoods. Every one of those trees was astoundingly beautiful – and so tenacious.

Is there somewhere special close to home where you’ve been going recently to be with the trees?

Well, yes. I stick around home quite a bit, because I have a lot of caregiving to do with my partner. We had to cut down a tree in our yard a couple of years ago and I was very, very sad about cutting down this great big old blackwood acacia. But we had to do it – it was gonna fall over and wreak havoc. But it cleared the way for me to view these two enormous birch trees that are like four-stories high in the neighbors’ yard. Those two trees are just remarkable, through all the seasons. They’re so graceful, and they change so much. I’ve been enjoying those trees a lot from the kitchen.

And Tilden Park is still my go-to. It’s five minutes up the road, so I can get out and walk amongst the oaks and the laurels and, unfortunately, eucalyptus, which is an invasive fire-hazard tree around here, but they’re still beautiful.

It’s so special that you still get to spend time in the same place that meant so much to you as a kid. There’s really so much we could talk about, but is there anything else you’d like to share about the album?

I did it mostly with a very small group of fantastic musicians – my bandmates Hasee Ciaccio on bass, Brandon Godman on fiddle, Patrick Sauber on banjo, and then George Guthrie also on banjo and some guitar. It’s just been really great working with these wonderful people. What they bring to the songs and how they help shape the music, they really are part of the fabric of what makes this album what it is, and it feels important to me to share that.

Photo Credit: Irene Young