Caroline Spence knows better than anyone the importance of community in the roots music scene. Since her 2015 debut album, Somehow, the singer-songwriter has risen through the ranks with four additional solo albums including her latest, Heart Go Wild. Stylistically, Spence fits within the realm of Natalie Hemby, Aoife O’Donovan, Lori McKenna, and Mary Bragg, with a smattering of Mary Chapin Carpenter sensibility. She has garnered praise from both direct peers and industry giants alike. From signal-boosting her work online to recording her songs, many musicians and artists have used their platforms to give Spence a well-deserved spotlight.
Throughout the past decade, Spence has used these moments to nurture friendships within a thankless industry. “The acknowledgement and validation from artists that I respect have been vital in keeping the fire burning under me when parts of the industry have threatened to put it out,” Spence tells BGS.
“No ‘suit’ can convince me I’m not good enough when I have worked with my heroes and have the respect of artists I admire.”
Lori McKenna and Caroline Spence after recording “The Next Good Time” together. Photo by Jordan Lehning.
Reciprocated applause and mutual admiration prove essential to building relationships, in addition to contextualizing an artist’s music within the scene for those fans who may not be familiar. For example, Miranda Lambert has enlisted countless lesser-known artists for her tours, including Gwen Sebastian, Ashley Monroe, and Angaleena Presley. These placements introduce her loyal audience to talent they might not have discovered elsewhere, thus giving those artists more name recognition.
Even more importantly, Spence finds these shout-outs and promotional spots to be her “life force” in keeping her inspired to push through trying times. “My primary goal has always been to be good at my craft and to get better at it,” she says. “To me, the most important judges of that are those who are masters of theirs, and it’s been deeply meaningful every time someone I admire has paid attention to, let alone praised, what it is that I do.”
In her career, Spence has tumbled into the orbits of countless artists who have shown unwavering support for her work. A big Hayes Carll fan, she covered his song “It’s a Shame,” from his 2002 album, Flowers & Liquor, early in her career and later toured with him in 2021 – a moment Spence describes as coming “full circle.” She’s also toured with John Moreland and Madi Diaz. In addition, she wrote “Heavy” with Carl Anderson for Andrew Combs’ album Worried Man and another song she wrote, “We Don’t Know We’re Living,” was recorded by Lucie Silvas, Brandi Carlile, and Joy Oladokun. “[Brandi] called it ‘a once in a century song,’” notes Spence.
Madi Diaz performs with Spence as special guest and opener on tour in 2022.
Despite not having a “game-changing platform,” as she puts it, she pays it forward by sharing “the work of my peers and what I am loving listening to. I think word-of-mouth from trusted personal sources is still the best way to get someone to pay attention to music.”
She takes a moment to shout out others, beginning with Ken Yates & Brian Dunne before mentioning several other artists she’s been listening to, including Angela Autumn (“Her song ‘Electric Lizard’ is intoxicating and reminds me of some of the tracks that made me fall in love with music in high school,” she says), Brennan Wedl & Mariel Buckley, and Danny Malone, “an incredible songwriter out of Austin that I recently saw at a house show in Nashville and was absolutely floored by.”
In our conversation, Spence names an additional six artists, from Miranda Lambert to Tyler Childers, who have uplifted her music over the years.
The National
“The fact that I have a duet with Matt Berninger is still completely insane to me. When I was in college in Ohio, falling in love with The National, I could have never even dreamed that I would cross paths with Matt, let alone have him sing words I wrote. I love that band, and his voice is legendary. It still feels unreal.”
Miranda Lambert
“[She] posted about my first record back in 2016, and that totally blew my mind. I had just been in the studio making my second record [Spades and Roses] and was questioning a lot, and that really felt like a sign to keep doing what I was doing. Part of my dream when I moved to Nashville was to write songs for her, so that was an incredibly validating moment.”
Miranda Lambert shared a Spence original, “Last Call” on her Instagram in 2016.
Lori McKenna
“Lori added my music to her monthly favorites playlists that she makes. She featured on a song we wrote together called, ‘The Next Good Time.’ One of my biggest heroes and one of the people who inspired me to start pursuing this work.”
For our Artist of the Month feature, Spence joined McKenna for an intimate and engaging conversation. Read here.
Clare Bowen
“Clare recorded my song ‘All The Beds I’ve Made’ on her self-titled album.”
Tyler Childers
“I’ve known him since 2014 and he opened for me in early 2016 – a month after Miranda posted about my record, and she actually came to the show. I toured opening for him in 2017 and 2019. At some point, he posted about my album on his IG.”
Spence and Tyler Childers backstage together on tour in 2019. Photo by Jace Kartye.
Mary Chapin Carpenter
“We connected on social media and she eventually invited me to open some shows for her. A treasured memory was performing in the round with her at the Edmonton Folk Festival and her asking me to play ‘I Know You Know Me’ and her singing it with me.”
Caroline Spence and Lori McKenna are both lauded for writing songs that cut straight to the heart. In conversation, it’s clear they also share admiration and a generosity of spirit, offering insight into how a life built around family can both coexist with and deepen a life in music. The two met with BGS via Zoom to discuss Spence’s new record, Heart Go Wild, produced by Peter Groenwald, Mark Campbell, and Spence herself.
As Spence charts her first year of motherhood, McKenna reflects on building a catalog of piercingly honest songs while raising five children of her own. Together, they explore the mysteries of publishing, the influence of mentors like Mary Gauthier, and the butterfly effect of one songwriter’s choices on another’s path.
Their exchange drifts from songwriting craft to the role of co-writers in self-discovery into the bigger questions of life: how family and creativity intertwine, how community ripples outward, and how songs become offerings that carry meaning long after they leave the writer’s hands.
What emerges is a portrait of two artists at different points along similar paths, each proving that family life and creative life are not competing forces, but intertwined sources of inspiration and strength.
I know you two have a lot to talk about, but I’d love to start, if we can, with how you know each other? Did you know of each other musically first, and then how did you come to know each other personally?
Lori McKenna: I think the first time we met might have been at breakfast that time?
Caroline Spence: Right. I think that was another Bluegrass Situation connection. I think that was the first time I met you.
I had a good friend from summer camp and we would often trade mixes. She put one of your songs on a CD for me. I had already found Patty Griffin and was having my singer-songwriter love affair. That led me to The Kitchen Tapes, which led me to everything else. And I distinctly remember when Faith Hill cut “Stealing Kisses” and I thought, “Wait, that’s how that works?” I didn’t know what publishing was. I didn’t know how music worked in that way and that became a new little baby dream of mine that I carried with me: to write a song that was good enough that maybe somebody else would want to sing it. I feel like I would not be aware of the job that I have had I not found you, Lori.
LM: That is really cool. I remember not knowing anything about publishing, how it works and all that stuff, too. And I still feel like I know just a tiny bit more.
CS: I know, totally. It’s still a mystery.
LM: We were at a wedding over the weekend and my son Chris, who’s a writer in town, has his first single that he co-wrote that’s going to radio. So we were singing songs and at the end of the night, my brother was like, “Chris sold the song!” I’m like, “It’s not called selling the song.” He’s like, “Well, how does it work?” Nobody knows.
CS: Yeah, nobody knows. They just stream it now into the abyss.
LM: The only reason I knew anything was because of Mary Gauthier. I did know people who had moved to Nashville before Mary, but because I’m in the Boston area, they came back saying, “Yep, it’s very different.” It is very different in Nashville. I didn’t know anyone who had stayed before Mary, you know? I love being inspired by other people. I love it that that’s how life works, that you see someone else do something, and you’re like, “Wait! I can do that! At least I can try!”
CS: I’ve been thinking about that a lot lately, the butterfly effect, and how that happens within our community. Like, if Mary hadn’t done this, then this wouldn’t have happened for you, and if you hadn’t done that, then I wouldn’t have known about this, and I’ve been thinking about that as I’ve been in this creative community for a decade now. There’s so much stuff that you never know your little ripple is doing.
LM: The ripple is such a good word. It’s such a ripple, isn’t it? It’s crazy. We’re really lucky. I know you just had a baby, but the number of people that come up to me and ask, “How did you do this with kids?” Nobody told me that I couldn’t. I know stories of other artists that someone’s told, “You can’t do this and have a family at the same time.” I’ve heard those stories, but nobody ever told me that.
It didn’t seem impossible at the time. But now my son Chris has a baby. I look at them and I’m like, “Wait, how does anybody do that ever? How does anybody have a baby?”
CS: Man, some days it really feels that way. Most days it feels that way. No one ever said that to me either, but those are absolutely the cultural messages you absorb. There are certain gigs I might not get because of my familial obligations, but you just make your choices. And I’m not building my life around what I “might get.” I want to build my life around what I know I want to have. I just feel like all of that is gonna feed your person. You can’t starve yourself of these big, beautiful growth opportunities for some sort of potential. My life is bigger than my career, and I would like it to be as big as possible.
LM: And it’s crazy, right?
CS: Yeah, it’s nuts. Absolutely nuts. The fact that I got a shower this morning is a big win.
LM: Well, that and the fact you’re putting a record out!
CS: Yeah, yeah, and the record!
LM: You did good.
CS: It’s a little bit cuckoo, but it’s been done for a while. A lot of the heavy lifting was done even before I was pregnant, so that was an accidentally smart idea and we’ve just had to be strategic about everything else. I feel like there’ll be a lot of people who assume this is a record about marriage and family, which it’s not. I’m sure I will have that, but this feels like a record that’s more about the chaos before I decided I could do all that.
LM: From the minute I knew who you were, I’ve always loved the way that you express your feelings in such a way that makes other people be like, “Oh! I’ve felt like that! This song makes me realize that I’m not alone in feeling that.”
There’s something in the way that you write that is like arms are reaching out, but they’re also like, “I know you feel this way, too and it’s okay that we all feel this way.” I feel like that’s why music exists. For someone pulling over their car and being like, “Oh my god, okay, I’m not gonna die today because I just heard the song!” It is the biggest reason, the service of songwriting, as Mary Gauthier says. You don’t do it consciously, but it just is your way of doing it. It just seems so innate in the way you write.
CS: That’s so kind and means a lot to me, because that’s really how I feel about it. It’s been a progression. I started writing because I needed to get these hard things out when I was a younger person and as I started putting those out there, I would have conversations where someone would say, “I feel that way, too.” That kind of cemented in me to keep writing from that place, because that’s what music did, and still does for me.
What is personal is universal. I feel like someone smart said that before I did, but it’s so true. And Mary’s perspective of songs as a service resonates so deeply with me. There’s a quote I read when I was doing The Artist Way a few years ago that says, “The artist has to be humble, for he is essentially a channel.” To let the divine in, whatever it is, to flow through you, you have to get small and get in your humanity.
And when I’m feeling really in my head and when I don’t want to perform or I’m feeling self-critical, I think about what I’m doing as an offering, and it makes me feel better and more inside what I’m trying to do.
LM: I love the offering.
CS: People want to feel understood. As a listener, you want to find your soundtrack for your hard time or your good time.
LM: Well, congratulations on doing all this, because the record’s beautiful, as usual. You co-produced this whole thing, right? Did you always co-produce? Because this record seems, and I hate to use the word “rockier,” but it feels like it moves a little bit more. Was that intentional?
CS: I think a lot of that might sort of be a songwriting change for me. I feel like I’ve gotten better at translating what I’m hearing into the actual thing, so I think that’s a skill I’ve slowly developed from my slow folk songs for years.
LM: The transition is so beautiful. With the song “Soft Animal,” if I wrote that song, it would be just the slowest. It wouldn’t move the way [it does].
CS: It totally started on the page, too. It was very much like a poem. Sometimes I sit down to a piece of writing, if I’m going through my ideas, and if something’s sort of dead on the page, I’ll just start playing. That one was one where it sort of just came out that way. The clash of “Soft Animal” to something that felt really thrashy, the irony of that felt celebratory to me, and it was fun. That’s one of my favorites production-wise on the record.
LM: Oh, that’s great. When I work with a producer, you can tell. You can listen to the record and know that this is definitely different. But there’s been this really consistent line with you the whole time, which is kind of remarkable when you think about how much you’ve changed in life and as a person over the years. There’s this vibe that really just comes through where you can tell that you are a big piece of the production of everything.
CS: Thank you for saying that. That was actually a dealbreaker thing for me for this record, that I would only work with people who would give me a production credit, because I felt like over the years – and not to discredit the people who are credited as producers on my albums – but because of who they are as producers, it was collaborative, and there were times when I was making sure that my vision got to the finish line in spite of their initial instincts. I didn’t know it mattered to me until maybe I’d read some press that would bring that person’s name into it and it made me feel a certain way.
Producers are important because I think it’s really helpful to get outside of yourself and your own instincts, and to be challenged. But sometimes what’s helpful is to be challenged, and then you know exactly how firmly you feel about something.
For this record, I really wanted to know that it was collaborative from the jump. That felt incredible, and I worked with two people who had the best energy and a healthy sense of ego, and it was just really fun.
LM: That’s awesome. You come through. I’m exactly the opposite, because I can’t stand being in the studio.
CS: I understand that as well.
LM: I don’t know how you do it, because I literally only hear the song and what it sounds like when I sit at my kitchen table and sing it. People kept telling me over the years that I’d start to hear parts. So I am a person who needs producers… I’m just like, “Here are the songs.”
CS: Yeah, I’ve done that so many times, I’ve given a pile of songs and been like, “I don’t know what I made. What’s speaking to you?”
LM: Well, this morning I was listening to the album again, and I thought, “Oh, she’s gonna produce other people’s records someday.”
CS: That’s very kind and, honestly, a thought I hadn’t really had for myself, but I really did enjoy it. I think if I ever do that, it’s gonna be because of the experience I just had with these people that built up my confidence in that space. It was a lot of fun.
LM: You have this beautiful voice. I have an unpretty voice and you have a very pretty voice that you know how to use really well. You can say the hard things with that beautifully well-orchestrated production and then your beautiful voice, and it still makes you feel all the feels, versus I always feel like no matter what I sing, it’s gonna sound sad.
CS: I feel like a lot of the time I try to be like, “I’m not so sweet,” and grit up the production or avoid certain songs. I was self-conscious about it, which I think may be some internalized misogyny, because I have such a high female voice.
Speaking of songs being of service, babies and children come out singing, you know? It’s such a natural thing to do. We’re meant to do it. It’s joyous; it’s a release. And knowing the way it feels in my body to perform or really sing has changed the way I perceive my own voice.
LM: It is the first thing anybody knows how to do.
CS: Your voice has this wisdom to it. It kind of doesn’t matter what you’re singing; it sounds like you believe what you’re saying and you trust what you’re saying. You have this earnestness to your voice. If you were singing “Red Solo Cup” I’d be like, “That song means a lot to me.”
LM: I actually was at a round at the Bluebird [Cafe] with the Warren Brothers a couple of weeks ago, and they sang “Red Solo Cup.” I am so jealous of songs like that, because I could never write them.
In terms of writing for you, how have things changed since the baby?
CS: I haven’t had the same amount of headspace. My publisher held a sync camp and my mom came to town to help. I wrote for days straight and that felt really good to get back at it. As far as writing by myself, that’s just now kind of coming back.
LM: Is your son enjoying you playing the guitar?
CS: It’s a pacifying thing. I could put him in his playpen if I want to and mess around on guitar, and he’s super happy to listen. The other day, I was practicing for this Springsteen cover night that I got asked to do and I just started kind of riffing around. The flow started and that felt really good. I was like, “Oh, okay, it’s still in there.” I just hadn’t had the circumstances to put myself in the position where I’m visited by that energy. Being in creative spaces with others has been really nice right now, too, to slowly rebuild.
LM: When my kids were little, I actually wrote a lot. They all shared a bedroom and, after dinner, my husband would work on the house while I tried to sing them songs – sometimes terrible ones – or make up songs while they fell asleep. That routine gave me more time to write than I expected.
Two of my kids are songwriters now, though at the time they probably went to sleep just to get away from me singing the same line over and over. But honestly, if I hadn’t had that hour and a half every night with them, I don’t think I would have learned how to write. I wasn’t planning to be a musician. My children gave me the time and space to discover that.
By the time I had five kids, I started doing open mics. I never would have had the courage to get up there if I didn’t have my kids. They were my world, so if people didn’t like what I did on stage, I could always just go home and sing in the living room with them. That gave me the confidence to try.
CS: That balance is so important and it’s hard to reverse-engineer for people. If you move somewhere completely career-focused, you can get lost in that and miss the balance of family and partnership. I feel like any sense of longevity in life or career needs that.
For me, I’ve realized that to be a happy, well-rounded person – good partner, good friend – I need a rich family and personal life. Otherwise, my career just eats me alive. I think the reason you’ve been able to sustain your career and create a catalog of songs full of humanity is that you’ve always had that balance.
LM: Exactly. And it’s not just a woman’s thing. I know men who do it, too. But when you put family first, you have to say no to some things. You can’t always do that week-long tour, for example. But the things you say no to fade away; you don’t remember them. You only remember what you did. Instead, you stayed home and sat in the backyard with your kids and that’s the summer you wrote that one song that you’re still singing years later.
Love is supposed to be the thing you surrender to. It just opens up the universe wider. I’ve seen it happen again and again; even songwriters who know exactly what they want in their twenties, after falling in love or having a child, the world opens up in new ways.
CS: That’s making me emotional. That’s exactly where I am right now. I feel like my life is starting in a really good way. My career feels like it is starting over again. It is making me recalibrate how I want to show up in the world. And it’s freeing to have my compass aligned around my family. It feels like a new beginning. It’s really beautiful.
LM: That’s exactly it. Parenthood gives you a stream of love you hadn’t experienced before and it changes everything creatively. For me, it didn’t really happen until my fifth child, but it always happens. The universe shows up when you do something hard, like having a baby. I remember putting out a record in May, right around the birth of my son, David. By Thanksgiving, I had Faith Hill cuts. It’s like the universe says, “We should remind her that she gets to keep doing this.”
CS: That really resonates.
LM: I always listen to the last song on a record first.
CS: I love that because some of my favorite songs on your records are the last songs.
LM: When I heard “Where the Light Gets Through,” that song is such an offering, such a service. I don’t know if you want to talk about where that song came from, but years from now you are still going to have people tapping you on the shoulder saying “thank you” for that song.
CS: We’d made the record basically and we couldn’t figure out the last one. I said to the producers, “What if we write this one together?” Mark and Peter started building the track. I was going through ideas and I’d been writing a lot about my brother-in-law’s passing away. It just so happened that something I’d written fit almost exactly word for word and we shaped it from there. It couldn’t have just been me on that record, because it needed to feel lighter than I wanted it to.
LM: I know exactly what you are talking about. That’s why I love co-writing. You get perspectives that you could never create alone. Sometimes you can’t do it by yourself, and the song only exists because of that.
I’ve had that experience with Liz [Rose] and Hillary [Lindsey]. I had a song I’d been trying to write for a month by myself and I was so mad I couldn’t. I showed it to them and Liz was writing and singing it immediately. Hillary was like, “Do you know this song?”
CS: Do you feel like that is possible because you know each other so well that they can meet you where your brain is?
LM: Absolutely. And that’s another thing I love about co-writing. You fall in love with each other so quickly in the room. And when you trust yourself with someone, you can say the dumbest thing and it might turn into the smartest thing. I rarely sit with someone who doesn’t make me feel like I can speak my mind. With Liz and Hillary, Liz can read my mind and Hillary is like a musical and emotional genius. They both are.
Parenthood also gives you that focus. You don’t have all the time in the world, so you go straight to the point.
CS: I’ve heard many parents say they become more productive because they have to think differently about time and energy. I feel that now, with my baby being a little more self-sufficient.
LM: Exactly. And think of all the things you can do since having a kid! You weren’t opening drawers with your feet before, were you! Well, I love what you do, and I was genuinely happy when I heard you were pregnant. It’s a good thing for artists to step into family life.
CS: There’s a class of women my age choosing to have families now, balancing careers – it feels like a statement in all the best ways.
LM: Parenthood changes your perspective. You look back and wonder how you managed everything, but the flow and the creative life meet you there. You make the things you have to make because that’s what we’re here for.
CS: Man, there’s a lot of stuff I needed to hear today that you just spouted out. Thank you for spending time with this record.
LM: Congratulations. The record is so good. I hope the biggest challenge with it is all the things you have to say no to.
Alison Krauss has been recording and releasing music with her band, Union Station, for longer than she’s been able to legally drink or vote. Along the way, she’s been a key influence in the lives and careers of countless other musicians, many of whom have recorded and performed covers of their favorite Alison Krauss material.
Famously signing with Rounder Records when she was just 16, Krauss has spent the past four decades offering inspiration to multiple generations of artists spanning many genres, from bluegrass and country to Americana, folk, and beyond. She’s collaborated with fellow legends like Dolly Parton, Neil Young, and Robert Plant, and her list of honors includes not one, not two, but 27 GRAMMY Awards. In fact, she’s the fifth-most GRAMMY-awarded musician of all time, across all genres and categories.
As we highlight the vibrant legacy of Alison Krauss & Union Station, our Artist of the Month, in celebration of Arcadia, their first album in over a decade, we’re carving out some space for the performers who have skillfully and reverently covered Krauss and her music over the years. From big names and bluegrass stalwarts to some less expected artists that land a bit further off the beaten path.
While not all of our selections are Alison Krauss & Union Station originals, you can tell each of these musicians have been distinctly inspired by Krauss and her musical legacy. The internet is chock full of Alison Krauss covers, and we think these are six of the best.
“Whiskey Lullaby” – Kaitlin Butts and Flatland Cavalry
Originally released by Brad Paisley on his 2003 album, Mud on the Tires, “Whiskey Lullaby” was penned by Jon Randall and Bill Anderson and remains one of Krauss’s most popular songs as a featured guest artist. This cover by country phenoms Kaitlin Butts and Cleto Cordero of Flatland Cavalry – and featuring multi-instrumentalist Kurt Ozan on Dobro – infuses fresh grit and intimacy into the somber sensitivity of the original. While it’s hard to compete with Krauss’s bright, soaring vocals, Butts honors them well while staying true to her own rich vocal timbre.
We also recommend checking out this version where Paisley and Krauss perform the track at Carnegie Hall back in 2005.
Plus, the pair recently reunited on the special Opry 100: A Live Celebration TV broadcast to perform the song, as well. It was one of our favorite moments from the event.
“The Boy Who Wouldn’t Hoe Corn” – Dan Tyminski
You might know Dan Tyminski as the voice of Ulysses Everett McGill (AKA George Clooney’s character in O Brother, Where Art Thou?), but he was also a longtime member of Alison Krauss & Union Station. In 2001, Tyminski arranged and recorded a version of “The Boy Who Wouldn’t Hoe Corn” for the band’s album New Favorite.
In this video recorded for BBC Four, Tyminski leads the charge, belting this stunning rendition of the American folk traditional. While admittedly not a cover in the truest sense of the word (since Tyminski also sings lead vocals on the original), we couldn’t help but include this heart-stopping performance with Jerry Douglas, Russ Barenburg, Aly Bain, and more.
Tyminski performs the song as a member of Alison Krauss & Union Station in this equally impressive video from a 2002 performance in Louisville, Kentucky.
Tyminski left AKUS before the release of Arcadia and has been replaced in the band and on the recordings by bluegrass veteran Russell Moore. Still, Tyminski does appear on Arcadia on a couple of tracks and he also co-wrote “The Wrong Way.”
“My Love Follows You Where You Go” – Lori McKenna
Another unconventional cover, Lori McKenna co-wrote “My Love Follows You Where You Go” for Alison Krauss, but she didn’t record or release it herself until 2013. Alison Krauss & Union Station had recorded and released it on their acclaimed 2011 album, Paper Airplane.
This offbeat love song captures the richness and complexity of Krauss’s singing and performance style; hearing McKenna perform it adds another layer of depth. McKenna wrote the track with Barry Dean and Liz Rose as a bittersweet love note to her children. She shared her feelings about it with American Songwriter in 2013: “I was able to sing it pretty well. Not as beautifully as Alison Krauss, of course. But I’m happy that one made my record because it is such a message to our kids.”
Watch AKUS performing the number on a live television performance from 2011:
“Let Me Touch You For A While” — Mary Spender
Mary Spender isn’t too well-known in the American bluegrass scene, but she’s an acclaimed British singer-songwriter and YouTuber. Guitarist Magazine even called her “one of the most dynamic, expressive young British singer-songwriters working today.” She’s one of many young musicians who draws inspiration from Alison Krauss.
Spender has one of those rich, soulful voices that makes you stop and catch your breath when you first hear it. It’s hard to anticipate and it’s also very distinct from Krauss’s light, angelic voice. But in this cover of “Let Me Touch You For A While,” Spender offers a simple yet jaw-dropping performance that boldly honors the original while taking things in a unique direction. Accompanied only by her guitar, Spender brings a sultry, driving energy to the song’s emotional complexity and leans into her impressive vocal range.
Originally recording the track in 2001 for New Favorite, it would go on to become one of their most recognizable hits. Krauss & Union Station performed “Let Me Touch You For A While” alongside Jerry Douglas at the Opry 100 celebration last month.
“No Place to Hide” – Adam Steffey
If you’re a diehard AKUS fan, you’ll definitely recognize Adam Steffey’s name; he’s another past member of Union Station from 1990 to 1998. Here, Steffey and his own band (including Tyminski) give a raucous rendition of “No Place to Hide,” a song Steffey recorded with Union Station on So Long So Wrong (1997). A straightforward “mash” bluegrass track, “No Place to Hide” booms and rolls with the band’s strong vocal harmonies and tight, effortless timing.
Here’s a much earlier live version of the song that’s got a more traditional bluegrass sound by Krauss and band:
“The Lucky One” – Jessica Willis Fisher, Gavin Trent
One of Krauss’s major country hits, “The Lucky One” was originally released on New Favorite in 2001. That same year, it won two GRAMMY Awards: Best Country Song and Best Country Performance by a Duo or Group. This stripped-down cover by Jessica Willis Fisher and Gavin Trent honors Krauss’s voice and musicianship in a way few other musicians can. Fisher has a similarly bright, soprano voice, and she can definitely hold her own on the fiddle, which she’s been playing since she was a child. As soon as you start listening, it’s clear Fisher is inspired by Krauss and this rendition serves as a fitting tribute.
A lifelong musician, Fisher has received praise from CMT, American Songwriter, and Billboard, and she’s worked with some of the same songwriters who write for AKUS – but it’s still possible you’ve never heard of her. Fisher has intentionally stayed out of the public eye in recent years (despite releasing her debut solo album, Brand New Day, in 2022) due to significant personal trauma tied to her family history. Fisher now uses the trauma she’s endured to help others heal, both through her music and her writing.
Alison Krauss & Union Station performed “The Lucky One” live on CMT in 2005:
Wherever you are on this wintry week, we hope our collection of roots music premieres warms you all the way up. We expect it will!
In this edition of our premiere roundup, don’t miss a brand new track from stupendous string trio, The Devil Makes Three, who debuted “Ghosts Are Weak” from their upcoming album on Wednesday on BGS. Plus, there’s straight-ahead bluegrass to be found, too, from Tyler Grant, who pays homage to a towering train bridge on “Goat Canyon Trestle.”
Singer-songwriter Bre Kennedy has reimagined “Before I Have a Daughter,” a song co-written with Lori McKenna about breaking generational cycles, healing, and motherhood. (A theme shared with another premiere this week.) And, Tobacco & Rose repurpose a love song infused with a Buddhist twist with their new track, “Tara.”
In the mood for some music videos? Catch Leslie Jordan’s new video for a Sarah McCracken co-write, “The Fight,” that also grapples with parenthood, discipline, and family. And, the sensational Max McNown brings us the video for the title track for his brand new album, Night Diving, which releases today.
Just in time to shepherd out the once-in-a-lifetime blizzards across the Deep South, Miss Tess showcases her music video for “Louisiana,” a centerpiece of her upcoming album, Cher Rêve. Then Sarah Quintana, who calls New Orleans home, brings us down the road to the Big Easy with an artful music video made with Kat Sotelo for the title track of her soon-to-be-released project, BABY DON’T.
It’s all right here on BGS and, you know the drill – You Gotta Hear This!
The Devil Makes Three, “Ghosts Are Weak”
Artist:The Devil Makes Three Hometown: Santa Cruz, California Song: “Ghosts Are Weak” Album:Spirits Release Date: January 22, 2025 (single); February 28, 2025 (album) Label: New West Records
In Their Words: “‘Ghosts Are Weak’ is about breaking free from destructive habits and patterns. It reflects on how leaving behind a substance or lifestyle often comes with losing certain friends along the way…” – Pete Bernhard
Artist:Tyler Grant Hometown: Boulder, Colorado Song: “Goat Canyon Trestle” Album:Flatpicker Release Date: January 24, 2025 (single); March 28, 2025 (album) Label: Grant Central Records
In Their Words: “The largest wooden trestle ever built still stands in the Mojave Desert of eastern San Diego County. I wrote this uptempo bluegrass song to tell the story of the trestle and the ‘Impossible Railroad,’ which was conceived by sugar and shipping magnate John D. Spreckels in 1906 and completed in 1919. History songs are tricky and I am very proud of this one. It will tickle the ears of any enthusiast of the classic railroad songs. I furnish some Doc Watson-style flatpicking and Michael Daves delivers on the hot tenor vocal part. The moral of the story is, if you take on the desert, it will always win.” – Tyler Grant
Track Credits: Tyler Grant – Guitar, lead vocal Andy Thorn – Banjo Adrian “Ace” Engfer – Bass Dylan McCarthy – Mandolin Andy Reiner – Violin Michael Daves – Harmony vocal
Leslie Jordan, “The Fight”
Artist:Leslie Jordan Hometown: Johnson City, Tennessee Song: “The Fight” Album:The Agonist Release Date: April 25, 2025
In Their Words: “‘The Fight’ was written with Sandra McCracken on her back porch in September of 2023. When I read the piece that my grandfather wrote with the same title, I knew I had to save it for my co-write with Sandra. I have long admired Sandra’s ability to tell a story in her songs with honesty and raw vulnerability. I knew she could help me capture the true intention of this piece. It is heartbreaking. Gut-wrenching. A mother’s internal dialogue after she loses control and hits her son. We sat for a while and chatted through what we thought was really happening in the story, how it made us feel, and then I started playing the chord progression you hear. The story my grandfather wrote begins with these two lines:
‘The rebellion was over, and she had sent him to wash-up. There comes a time when children must be made to realize limitations and authority.’
“Sandra immediately started scribbling in her notebook and turned it around to show me.
‘The rebellion was over She sent him to wash his hands She tried to reason with him But he could not understand There comes a time when you find the limit’
“I started singing the words along to the chords and it felt like we had caught lightning in a bottle. I was also very excited to have my friend Brittney Spencer lend her incredible vocals on this song! When she heard it, she immediately had an idea that would lift the chorus. She really brought the song to another level.” – Leslie Jordan
Track Credits: Leslie Jordan – Acoustic guitar, vocals Brittney Spencer – BGVs Kenneth Pattengale – Guitar Harrison Whitford – Resonator guitar Daniel Rhine – Upright bass Joachim Cooder – Drums, percussion Evan Vidar – Pump organ
Video Credit: By Jake Dahm. Edited by Leslie Jordan.
Bre Kennedy, “Before I Have A Daughter” (featuring Lori McKenna)
Artist:Bre Kennedy Hometown: Nashville, Tennessee Song: “Before I Have a Daughter” featuring Lori McKenna Release Date: January 24, 2025 Label: Nettwerk Music Group
In Their Words: “I am so excited to share this version of my song ‘Before I Have a Daughter’ with the one and only Lori McKenna. I wrote this song with Lori a few years back after small talk that led to a conversation about me not knowing my mother, who struggled with addiction as I grew up, and wanting to get to know her and heal with her before I have a daughter. Writing this song was the beginning of a healing journey with not only my mother, but with myself. [It’s] how I have learned to have grace and appreciation for my journey, as well as hers. This song continues to grow with me in real time and I am so honored I get to share this version with Lori with you all from where I am on my journey now.” – Bre Kennedy
Max McNown, “Night Diving”
Artist:Max McNown Hometown: Bend, Oregon Song: “Night Diving” Album:Night Diving Release Date: January 24, 2025 Label: Fugitive Recordings x The Orchard
In Their Words: “We stepped into the writing room and Erin [McCarley] asked, ‘What’s something in your life that you keep fighting and can’t seem to overcome?’ ‘Night Diving’ became the answer to that question – it’s a song that addresses addiction and I think it’ll resonate with people on a lot of different levels. The ‘Night Diving’ song and video contain the deepest waters of symbolism I’ve created to date.” – Max McNown
Track Credits: Jedd Hughes – Electric guitar Todd Lombardo – Acoustic guitar, mandolin, additional electric guitar Jamie Kenney – Bass, acoustic guitars, additional electric guitars, drum programming Aaron Sterling –Drums Max McNown – Lead vocals, background vocals
Miss Tess, “Louisiana”
Artist:Miss Tess Hometown: Nashville, Tennessee Song: “Louisiana” Album:Cher Rêve Release Date: January 24, 2025 (single); February 7, 2025 (album)
In Their Words: “‘Louisiana’ was the first song inspiration for my new album Cher Rêve, coming out February 7. It was deep in the pandemic and I had reached a point where I was really missing traveling, friends, live music, and dancing. I became fixated on my memories of basking in the Cajun culture of South Louisiana (Lafayette & Eunice, mainly during the Blackpot Festival and music camp), and started to write a song about it.
“My excellent co-writer friend and fellow Blackpot visitor, Maya de Vitry, helped me work on it for about six hours one day while she was house-sitting. Since it was a challenging time to hang out with people in person, we finished it over the next month via email. It is one of my favorite songs on the album and really sums up my feelings and nostalgia for being down there, playing and enjoying music beneath the tall Louisiana pines. I am thankful this recording includes the talents of so many amazing Lafayette-area musicians, including Joel Savoy (fiddle + studio engineer), Trey Boudreaux (bass), and our dear friend Chris Stafford (Wurlitzer), who passed away tragically this past May.” – Miss Tess
Track Credits: Thomas Bryan Eaton – Electric guitar, vocals Joel Savoy – Fiddle Miss Tess – Vocals, guitar Kelli Jones – Vocals Chris Stafford – Wurlitzer Trey Boudreaux – Bass Matt Meyer – Drums
Sarah Quintana, “baby, don’t”
Artist:Sarah Quintana Hometown: New Orleans, Louisiana Song: “baby, don’t” Album:BABY DON’T Release Date: January 24, 2025 (single); March 28, 2025 (album)
In Their Words: “Kat Sotelo is the amazing performance artist and videographer behind this video. She designed and executed the concept, built the set, and asked the band to wear blue jeans. We wanted the first single to feel like something off The Ed Sullivan Show in the ’60s with a live performance lip-sync and vintage transitions. Silly moments of stop-motion animation flaunt Adrienne Battistella’s stunning band photos.
“I love Kat Sotelo’s work. She is a longtime friend and collaborator and my muse. She is a lovely human, creative powerhouse and inspiration to us all! She and I have been working together since my first project, Mama Mississippi, in 2012. Thanks for this adorable video, Kat!” – Sarah Quintana
Track Credits: Cello: Chris Beroes-Haigis – Cello Drums: Rose Cangelosi – Drums Saxophone: Rex Gregory – Saxophone Sousaphone: Jason Jurzak – Sousaphone Recorded by Justin Tockett at Dockside Studios
Video Credit: Video and set design by Kat Sotelo, photography by Adrienne Battistella.
Tobacco & Rose, “Tara”
Artist:Tobacco & Rose Hometown: Victoria, British Columbia, Canada Song: “Tara” Release Date: January 31, 2025 (single)
In Their Words: “‘Tara’ is a repurposed love song. The initial melody and lyrics were inspired by a crush that subsided as quickly as it appeared, but I was inspired to revive the song after following along to some guided Tara meditations. The Buddhist deity, Tara, is known for her compassion, but also for her encouragement to action. So I dedicate it to her, and, in fact, the writing of this song spurred into action the completion of my record, as it was the last song I wrote for it, and a standout track at that. I love this song, in part for the unusual wide guitar voicings that I got from my viola studies as a teenager, and for the melody that soars into head voice at the end of the chorus. And lyrically, I treat this song as a Buddhist-themed reminder for myself to stay awake and aware, and to treat all challenges, afflictions, and aversions as opportunities to get better at human being.” – Richard Moody
Track Credits: Richard Moody – Guitar, vocals, strings, keyboards Joey Smith – Bass
Photo Credit: Max McNown by Nate Griffin; Miss Tess by Jo Vidrine.
I moved around a lot as a child – from Ireland to Indianapolis to Puerto Rico to Seattle to Spain and more. It was so wonderful to experience different cultures and connect with new people. And I think these experiences caused me to have a restless soul. I am always looking for new people to meet and new experiences to have. I am always searching for meaning in life and for authenticity and joy. This Mixtape is for people struck by a seemingly endless sense of wanderlust who are enjoying the journey as we try to figure out this thing called life. – Katherine Nagy
“All Done” – Katherine Nagy with Austin Johnson
I wrote this song as I started living life the way I want to live. We only get one shot and I don’t want to have regrets. So the people-pleaser in me is “done pleasing everybody else, I can only be myself.”
“Starting Over” – Chris Stapleton
Sometimes I just want to pick up and start over again, like I did so many times as a child. A new house, new roads, new people, new experiences. I daydream about “starting over.”
“Into the Mystic” – Van Morrison
He is a fellow Irishman and I have always admired the passion of delivery and arrangements he uses in his songs. This classic has long rocked my gypsy soul.
“Angela” – The Lumineers
I have driven a Volvo since I was 16 years old, so I love the lyric about the “Volvo lights.” And so many times I’ve gone for long drives with the windows down listening to great songs that resonate with me the way this one does.
“Gypsy” – Stevie Nicks
I just adore Stevie and her essence. She is magical and whimsical and so in touch with her heart and art. I have always loved this song and related so strongly to it for years.
“Send me on My Way” – Rusted Root
This was one of the most fun concerts I have been to. It was at the House of Blues in Chicago. I was young and free as I danced all night enjoying the vibes of their music.
“Midnight Train to Georgia” – Indigo Girls
If the Indigo Girls are on the train – I am coming! Love their harmonies and beautiful melodies. This is a favorite and I perform it at my own shows.
“I Still Haven’t Found What I’m Looking For” – U2
Me neither, Bono! (another fellow Irishman) I am still searching over here. I’m always writing to process life and try out new things. Life is a journey of searching, and I’m not sure we ever find what we are looking for – wish I knew.
“Mockingbird” – Ruston Kelly
I am a sucker for beautiful guitar work and pedal steel. The intro to this song gets me every time and it just keeps getting better with the harmonica. It makes me want to go on a road trip. Plus, I love birds!
“The Time I’ve Wasted” – Lori McKenna
Let’s not waste time doing things or being with people that do not bring us joy. Life is too short, and “time goes by and when it’s gone it’s gone.” Live your life authentically – be brave.
“Shine” – Dolly Parton
I love Dolly and I love ’90s music, so this cover is just amazing and resonating with me. And I always want heaven to shine its light down!
“The Architect” – Kacey Musgraves
Kacey is an amazing writer. I love her music. This little gem of a song is so profound, as it’s trying to understand this beautiful life. Is there a higher power and what’s the masterplan?
“Keeps Getting Better” – Katherine Nagy
Stay optimistic and stay checked-in with life. Stay true to your heart and surround yourself with people that love you. If you do, it will just keep getting better.
Donovan Woods is not really the solid, secure man you might think you know through his thoughtful, deceptively soothing songs.
But he’s working on it.
“A lot of my songs are much more magnanimous than I am in real life,” said Wood, 43. “So I often am wrangling with that feeling of people thinking that I’m a very morally superior person, when in fact, the reality of me is not very close to that.”
Woods, a burly, bearded, soft-spoken Canadian who has been consistently releasing quality albums and touring since 2007 (except for the COVID years), recently released his new album, Things Were Never Good if They’re Not Good Now. It’s a typically solid offering from a writer who writes deeply personal songs, some of which work as mainstream country hits, like “Portland, Maine” for Tim McGraw.
Though modest and self-depreciating, Woods knows he’s come up with something special with “Back for the Funeral,” a song on the new album that captures the stage of life when the only time you see old friends is when one of them has died.
“After the service we’ll all meet up at the bar,” he sings. “Where my dad used to drink, now he just drinks in the yard/ And we’ll laugh about all the young dumb dreams we had/ And we’ll pretend we’re all only sad/ Because we’re back for the funeral.”
The song, written with Lori McKenna, is one of those that doesn’t seem like a new one. It feels familiar, like it’s always been there. McKenna had the title and it turned out Woods lived through the experience a few months earlier, when he returned home to Ontario to attend two funerals.
“Not all those details are exact, but I’m trying to get at that weird feeling of when you go home and you’re able to see it all at 30,000 feet for some reason, because you’re in the throes of grief,” he said.
In our exclusive BGS interview, we spoke about grief and mental health, poetry and Music Row songwriting, and more.
So I understand the new songs were influenced by therapy you underwent for your mental health. Is that true?
Yes. I’m as liberal as they come, but I think I still have this toxic masculinity in me. I do think that expressing need threatens my masculinity and it’s such a deep, ingrained thing in me. It’s embarrassing to admit, but I still do have those hang ups.
What kind of therapy did you have?
I had probably what would be considered a midlife crisis. … I felt like I was losing touch with my life slightly. I was unwell and I could tell [it was true] by the reaction of people in my life who weren’t particularly thrilled with me. I did some addiction therapy, I did some standard stuff and I did some couples therapy with my wife.
Like a lot of men, I wasn’t admitting when I was sad or when I was upset or when I was unhappy, because we love this image of this stoic individual that we’ve all grown up adoring — this unaffected, unflappable man. You’re trying to be that, because you think that’s the right thing to be for your family. I let that get away from me. I had become two guys, my internal self who knew that I was upset or hurt or I need something, and then this forward-facing person that I created, which was sort of a lie. I had to reunite those two things again, and I found it really difficult.
Your rather gentle singing sometimes belies the depth and the hurt in your lyrics. Is that an artistic choice you’re making?
That’s kind of just how my voice is. In the days before microphones, I don’t know that I would have been able to have this job. I don’t talk that loud or sing that loud, either. Singing is more like self-soothing to me than it is communication. I do it because I like it. It makes me feel good. When I’m stressed, I do it. It’s like being nice to myself.
Your lyrics are effective even separated from the music. Have you done any poetry or prose writing?
I appreciate that. My heroes are the people who are actually singing poets, like Paul Simon and John Prine. I feel like that’s what a singer-songwriter is at the core. … I will write poetry for myself now and then. I have tried to write short stories and I’m not good at it. I don’t know how to do long things. The idea that it can be anything is terrifying to me.
You must like Mark Cohn too, based on your cover of his “Don’t Talk to Her at Night” on the new album.
He’s kind of a high-water mark in songwriting for a lot of writers, especially men. There’s an elegance in his writing that is so unreachable to me. His American earnestness is not available to me as a Canadian. I always think I have to be self-deprecating or not showy in my writing. I think it’s just like the mindset of a Canadian. My dad is a big fan, and I have listened to him my whole life.
Do you have a family background that pointed you toward becoming an artist?
I grew up in a really working class town [Sarnia, Ontario], where everybody’s dad works in these petrochemical plants around the border of Michigan. My dad worked in construction estimating jobs. … My friends all work in petrochemical plants, or they work in adjacent fields to those plants. One of them is a chiropractor, which actually is adjacent to the petrochemical plants too, because everybody has a bad back in the entire city. … I was not a wonderfully artistic kid. I was given a guitar by my mom and I took like, four or five months of lessons. I just really enjoyed writing songs, and did it for myself for a decade before I ever did it publicly.
Is it true your dad named you after the folk singer Donovan?
I am. He’s one of my dad’s favorite singer-songwriters, along with Fred Eaglesmith. I got to tell [Donovan] that once, too. I’ve never seen anybody be less interested in something.
Do you still live in Canada with your family, or have you moved to one of the music industry cities in the states?
I have three kids. I have one ex-wife and my wife that I’m married to now. I live in Toronto mostly, and I’m in Nashville sometimes to write.
Do you do the Nashville writing thing where you have appointments and try to write hits with other writers?
I still have a publishing deal in Nashville, so I’m there writing sometimes with other people. I do it less than I used to, but I still enjoy that very much. I love other songwriters. It’s pretty rare that I don’t like a songwriter. So I enjoy that, that afternoon of trying to finish something.
And that’s worked out for you sometimes with hits, right?
There’s a song called “Grew Apart” that was a hit for Logan Mize. When somebody else wants to record one of your songs, that’s about as good of a compliment as you can get as a writer. It’s always really flattering. I hope [more of] that happens. … I mostly fail at writing Nashville songs. I fail like about 95% of the time.
You’ll be heading out on tour this fall to promote the new album. Are you looking forward to that?
I am always on the road more than I would like to be. But I’ve had much worse jobs. I enjoy 85% of it.
Artist:Donovan Woods Hometown: Sarnia, Ontario, Canada Song: “Back For The Funeral” Album:Things Were Never Good If They’re Not Good Now Release Date: July 12, 2024 Label: End Times Music
In Their Words: “‘Back For The Funeral’ is a story that a lot of us end up experiencing. Big life events – deaths, births, divorces – seem to pull us out of the flow of time somehow. The days around these events can feel like a dream wherein the regular rules of our lives don’t apply. People fall back onto old habits or maybe construct a new temporary-self to shield them from grief or shock. What I like best about this song is that it reflects that dream-like feeling without sacrificing clarity. It feels the way those life-dividing days feel. I wrote it with Lori McKenna and Matt Nathanson. I’m about as proud of it as anything I’ve written. I hope it’s useful to people.” – Donovan Woods
Track Credits: Written by Donovan Woods, Lori Mckenna, Matt Nathanson.
Acoustic guitars, vocal, piano – Donovan Woods Synths, drum programming – James Bunton Bass – Mark McIntyre Strings – Drew Jurecka
Recorded in Toronto at Union Sound Company – Studio B, Small Dog Sound.
(Editor’s Note: This interview first appeared in full on Basic Folk. Listen on BGS or wherever you get podcasts. The following has been lightly edited for flow and clarity.)
Jobi Riccio has only begun to scratch the surface of what they have to offer on their debut album, Whiplash. The songwriting is centered around self discovery and mourning past lives, laid alongside super-smart country and pop melodies. Our hero grew up an outdoor kid amongst the woods of Red Rocks Parks Amphitheatre in Colorado.
A strong bluegrass community encircled her playing from a very young age in a way that encouraged her to pursue music as a career. She spent time in Boston attending Berklee College of Music, nestled in the folk community centered around the historic venue Club Passim. March 2020 hit. Jobi had to leave her newfound community and found herself back in her childhood bedroom.
While wrestling with all the complications of finding herself and her place in the world, they were letting go of their childhood and the sense of grounding that came with it. Eventually, they made their way to Asheville, North Carolina to work on Whiplash.
In the studio, she took her time making the album and discovered that indeed, she had a strong sense of vision for the music. The trust of her collaborators allowed her to trust in herself and create an album that is turning heads and making Jobi Riccio one of the most exciting young songwriters of 2023.
BGS: Thank you so much for being on Basic Folk.
Jobi Riccio: Thank you for having me.
Alright, let’s start. I wanted to talk about identity and give you the opportunity to talk about your identity, like how do you identify pronouns, orientation, any of that stuff that we want to address.
JR: Yeah, I use she/they pronouns. I identify as queer and identity has been something that feels like it’s been important and very complicated for me. It feels like something that I have spoken about and made a part of my career, and now I’m kind of feeling, a little bit, like it’s become too much of a focus in my career, actually.
It’s funny, because I was listening to your other podcast that [you do], I can’t remember–
Yes! I was like, you’ll know the person to plug – and I’m so sorry to Why We Write.
It’s based on actually something that Lizzie No was saying. I just really resonated with something that she said, which was it’s about who is asking those questions of me. It can feel like a fine line. It’s kind of “cool” right now to be a queer artist or a Black artist or an artist of color in the folk space.
When you’re with your community, that feels one way, or with people who are truly great. And then when you’re with people who it just seems like they need to check that box. It’s so obvious and it’s so painful and it feels like a betrayal of yourself. And [Lizzie] put it a lot more eloquently than all that, but if we’re really going down the discussion of identity, it’s important to me that I am open with my identity, but I also feel like there have been times where it’s been so hyper-focused on. In a way that it’s like, “Did you even listen to any of my songs or did you know what I mean?”
I really enjoyed that answer. Doing these interviews, sometimes I feel like I’m gonna ask and I think that the interview is gonna go one way or a question is gonna go one way and it goes the complete opposite way. I just get to enjoy the ride.
You are from Morrison, Colorado, which is outside of Denver – the same place as Red Rocks Parks and Amphitheatre. You were an outdoor kid. How do you think your early experience in nature has impacted the person you became?
I think that it’s something that I really value and need and it’s a processing tool for me, being out in nature. It’s almost equivalent to songwriting and writing in my journal. It’s honestly super hard here in Nashville, because I don’t feel like I can get that, in the way that I used to be able to walk to a hiking trail five minutes from my house. I was absolutely supremely spoiled with outdoor access as a kid. [I didn’t] know any better. Like, there’s going to come a time where you’re going to live somewhere the nearest mountains are two and a half hours away. That is rough. It’s something I have to really intentionally build into my life now.
I think that nature heavily informs me as a person. Musically, I feel like it shows up in my lyrics [and] images from home, talking about coyotes and cactus and etc. I feel like it’s so intrinsic to who I am as a person.
So nature ruined you.
For real. The nature ruined me. Colorado ruined me.
There has always been this strong draw to music for you – country radio, your parents and sister’s collection of music, and also making music on your own. Can you set the scene for what music looked like in your house? And when did you get a grasp on your own taste in music?
My parents definitely – we had like a home stereo and a big collection of CDs and I spent a lot of time just sort of putzing around my house as a little kid, opening cabinets, and looking at things and opening the encyclopedia and reading. I don’t know if anyone else feels like a really intrinsic part of childhood was just looking at things.
The CD collection in like, a big wicker basket was definitely a huge one for me. They felt like little gifts. I could open up the CD and then there was this extra thing I could pull out and there were liner notes and lyrics and I could read along. That was really big for me, because I was always really interested in lyrics.
My dad’s a huge Bruce Springsteen fan. We love the Boss and sometimes we can’t understand the Boss. And like, his lyrics are wonderful, too. I really feel like that was pretty formative to me, looking through my parents’ CDs and my sister’s CDs as well. My oldest sister had like a clear, hot pink, very early 2000s lockbox thing that she kept her CDs in. I very vividly remember going into her room and stealing CDs – The Killers, Coldplay, A Rush of Blood to the Head was a big one for me, Sheryl Crow, Tuesday Night Music Club, Yellow Ocean Avenue. Then like Emmylou Harris, Bruce Springsteen, Linda Ronstadt, the Eagles, James Taylor.
There is a strong bluegrass community where you’re from. You found it at an early age, playing mandolin when you were like eight or nine years old. Since then you’ve sought out musical community, so what did you learn from that first musical community?
The bluegrass community was a big part of feeling supported for me in music. I was always a kid who sang and was like, the girl with a good voice in like my elementary school class or whatever, but I didn’t see myself as a musician until I really started playing mandolin. I had a teacher and he was super supportive and was like, “You’re really great at instruments, too.”
I feel like the bluegrass community in my hometown took me seriously even though I was a little kid running around at RockyGrass – and by “a little kid” I mean 16. I didn’t go to my first bluegrass festival until I was a teenager. I would go and sit and jam with adults and be taken seriously. I really looked up to [those who were] offering their support to me, that was immeasurable to [growing] my own self confidence at that age.
I mean, I was so insecure at like 15, 16. The first year I ever went to RockyGrass, which sort of became my home festival, I didn’t even go out and play with anyone. I just sat in my camper with my mom, because I was so scared and so nervous and having trouble with confidence. The next year, I was out like playing every night ’til like 2 or 3 a.m.
That’s a huge shift!
Yeah. I feel like community and music– I mean, no musician is an island. We’re nothing without the musicians who came before us and those who’ve supported us. Sometimes I look back on that time and wonder if I hadn’t gotten that nod in that jam from that older kid who was really good, who I thought was awesome; or from that artist who I worshipped, who told me I had a beautiful voice; or I had shared one of my songs with them, and they were encouraging of me writing. I wonder if I would have taken it this far?
Then I got to be in a really beautiful community space working at Club Passim in college, too. That also further helped bolster my confidence, especially playing solo. Because – as you know, as also somebody who worked there in a much different capacity – it’s very much like a solo listening room, singer-songwriter space.
I play solo [a lot] now on tour, because I can’t afford to bring out a band. I feel like I really garnered some valuable skills watching other people like Mark Erelli and Lori McKenna play solo at Passim and also having to do that myself, learning how to speak about the songs I had written and not be painfully awkward, but doing that in the loving embrace of that room.
You’ve talked about Sheryl Crow and The Chicks as having a huge impact on you. You picked up the mandolin after you first heard Nickel Creek – can you talk more about the influence Chris Thile and Sara and Sean Watkins had on you?
So, I first heard Nickel Creek on the radio on KBCO, which is like the AAA station.
Hell yeah, that’s a huge station. That’s where AAA was born!
Where AAA was born, famously, yes! That was my local radio station that I listened to as a kid. And they would play “Smoothie Song” by Nickel Creek. This was around the same time that I heard the Home album by The Chicks. I was listening to Top 40 country music and also hearing mandolin here and there. It’s so strange, because I don’t play the mandolin anymore. It’s just something I’m not interested in now – it makes me almost kind of sad to think of how this was such a big part of my life.
Then I really pivoted – and it’s like, I’ll never say never, but yeah, I started playing mandolin when I was 15, I wanted to play mandolin when I was about eight or nine years old, because that was when we got Why Should the Fire Die on CD as a family. When I started opening up the CD and reading the booklet and listening – that album is so cool, because there’s a little bit of almost a pop-punk thing to some of the songs, like “Somebody More Like You.” That was so of-the-time and I loved it. I couldn’t get enough of that.
Being introduced to this new palette of instruments that I really hadn’t heard played in this way. I was familiar with bluegrass to some extent, but it like bluegrass for me and my like angsty little 12-year-old self. And, you know, everybody’s angsty selves at any age. That struck such a chord in me…
And Pavement’s super emo! “Spit On a Stranger,” right?
Yeah, that’s it.
I loved that album, too. They were all older than me, but I didn’t really know that either because, like, they’re pretty young on the CD case. They’re probably [around] my older sister’s age, who is now 28. They’re not that close in age to me, but I did feel a kindred-ness that I feel like a lot of roots artists talk about, hearing them and the Chicks and being like, “Oh, this is cool! This is of the moment.” They’re incorporating sounds that we like from other genres, which is really what I think I’m trying to get with the whole pop-punk thing, though I know that can be kind of a “dirty” word, like pop country. I don’t think it should be, I don’t think any genre word should be.
And I definitely had like a three month period where I was like, “I’m in love with Chris Thile. I’m going to marry him.” That was a little, you know, short lived, but it was strong. His high, angelic voice really spoke to my prepubescent soul.
That’s so sweet.
You’re like, “I don’t know what to say about that!”
Thank you for sharing. No, it turns out it was Sara Watkins the whole time!
Artist:Grace Morrison Hometown: Wareham, Massachusetts Latest Album:Maybe Modern
What’s your favorite memory from being on stage?
There are so many! I remember the very first time I was onstage with my guitar. I was 13, and had been playing for maybe six months. I had a seafoam green electric guitar (because that’s what Billie Joe from Green Day played) and I played “Who Will Save Your Soul” by Jewel. I recall the terror before I began, and then this “hard to put your finger on” zen that came over me as I got into the song and was blinded by the lights. That moment is what got me hooked. Shortly after I remember performing in a local coffeeshop and James Spader walked in (I only knew that he was famous because people told me) and threw $20 in the tip bucket. I still have it. Then there was my little stint singing backup for Eddie Money. He had a cup of water on stage during rehearsals, and my guitar pick flew from my fingers directly into his cup of water. I may have been a tiny bit nervous he’d notice and get mad at me… he did not notice.
But most recently, I felt completely elevated at my album release show. Since 2020 I’ve played exclusively solo after years playing in bands. When we recorded my new record, the drummer John Chipman suggested we hold the album release show in Austin at the Saxon Pub. I’d been sick so I was pretty concerned about my voice before we started playing. But then I started strumming “Broken Things.” And Rich Brotherton started playing guitar. And I swear, when the chorus hit and the full band came in it was like being high. I hadn’t had that feeling playing music in a LONG time. Every worry went away. All that existed was that moment in that song. It was like my favorite lyric from Walt Wilkins’ “Trains I Missed” — “the moments I find myself right where I’m supposed to be.” Performing for me is like a constant search for THAT feeling.
What other art forms — literature, film, dance, painting, etc. — inform your music?
READING!!!! I was having a conversation with my publicist Rachel about what we’d do with a million dollars. She was thinking about adventures. I just said, “There are SO MANY books I want to read.” It’s possible she thought I was kidding, or that that was a bit but it’s the truth. There isn’t much I love more than reading. I’ve probably read every book on King Henry VIII because I’m a nerd (my motto is “revel in your nerditude.” I’ve got shirts that say it!). Reading not only gives me any adventure I could want, but it helps my brain quiet. It’s after reading that I write my best music whether it’s due to the quiet it gives my mind, or the inspiration of a feeling or story. And for me it’s the best way to find words. I think words or phrases or ideas I’ve read get buried in my brain, and I view songwriting like being a coal miner. I go into my creative mind with my little hard hat and see what I can chisel out.
Which elements of nature do you spend the most time with and how do those impact your work?
I’m a cranberry grower and brown-thumbed gardener. Harvest, in late fall, is the most exhausting thing I can think of. I love those bone-tired days. We harvest as a family, and we’re all out on the bogs picking up bags and putting them down for hours. There’s something about manual labor that can get you out of your own way. So often you’ll go to write a song and because you expect perfection from yourself it’s hard to get a word on the page — you’re judging things before they get started. The monotony of harvest doesn’t allow that critical part of your mind to exist. It’s too busy picking cranberries. I’ve written some good songs during those harvest days. I think Willie Nelson has a similar opinion on writing while you drive. My brown-thumbed gardening is similar. I say brown-thumbed because I cannot for the life of me get lupine to grow. It’s the flower I want so apparently the flower I can’t have. But I love getting my fingers in the dirt. Digging holes and planting bulbs. I always find myself singing while planting — “Garden Song” and “Waters of March” mostly. It bring me back to the simple joy of songs.
How often do you hide behind a character in a song or use “you” when it’s actually “me”?
I can’t think of a song I’ve written where I’m hiding behind a character. Music has always been the one realm in which I’m not afraid to be myself. I spent most of my life being timid, never ever telling people what I really thought or felt, with the exception of music. I think it saved me. We all need a place to say “no, that doesn’t work for me” or “you really hurt me when you did xyz” or “you are the sexiest thing I’ve ever seen” or “I’m better without you” so thank God for song. I HAVE done the opposite. Since, as mentioned, I am a nerd — I worked at a Renaissance Faire. And I got into character. Like really into character. It was there that I started thinking about writing modern songs about ancient things. I wrote an album of songs about King Henry VIII and the women in his life. And I very definitely allowed myself to sing as the ghost of Anne Boleyn.
Since food and music go so well together, what is your dream pairing of a meal and a musician?
Easy. A charcuterie board and Lori McKenna. My friend started a new business in 2020 – “Taylor Made by Taylor” custom charcuterie boards. The excitement of her delivering a board was one of the things that got us through the pandemic. And something about eating charcuterie makes me feel classy. Much like listening to Lori McKenna. I’ve written with her, and she’s such a classy, down to earth, genius songwriter. I get lost in every one of her songs. You’d probably need a martini or glass of wine in this dream listening scenario I’m imagining. And her song “Old Men Young Women” would have to be included. And this one time I wouldn’t put an ice cube in my wine. Because, you know, I’m trying to be classy.
Artist:Vance Gilbert Hometown: Arlington, Massachusetts Song: “Black Rochelle” Album:The Mother of Trouble Release Date: May 5, 2023
In Their Words: “It’s a true story. The cruelest kids are often the kids who have been treated most cruelly. One of the easiest and hardest songs ever to write. I am proud that I heard that melody so clearly in my head even as the words were cutting my chest wide open. Lori McKenna again foils with background vocal perfection.
“As for the video itself, the videographer Jon Sachs and I decided it would be most effective to do it in one pass, the only video break during Joey Landreth’s heartbreaking solo over the bridge. Don’t let anyone ever tell you that lip-synching is easy, or that real life feelings don’t happen with the sing-along-to-self. It was like double illumination, and I was shocked at how it struck me.
“Part of my job as a singer-songwriter is to be a vessel of sorts, the story coming through me, while it’s the listeners’ job — if I’ve done my part with any facility at all — to be moved. I was trying not to indicate or show all kinds of feels in my face to the camera. That said, I did all I could to keep it together, because I had to. When the concept finally came alive with the music and selected images, the brokenheartedness really was replaced by a sense of accomplishment at a story well-told.” — Vance Gilbert
Photo Credit: Rob Mattson
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