Earlier this week, on Wednesday, June 18, GRAMMY winner and MacArthur “Genius” Rhiannon Giddens brought American Tunes – a star-studded edition of her Old-Time Revue – to the Hollywood Bowl in Los Angeles, California. The evening featured a vast array of American roots music spanning eras and genres, from old-time and cajun to bluegrass and blues, Americana and folk, all brilliantly interconnected by Giddens’ masterful curation.
Taking the stage in front of the 18,000 capacity venue, Rhiannon welcomed the audience to her front porch – probably the biggest front porch ever – before kicking off the evening with Dirk Powell, her powerful vocals echoing the Bowl. After welcoming the audience, BGS’ own Ed Helms has on hand to introduce Our Native Daughters, Giddens’ female quartet supergroup featuring Amythyst Kiah, Allison Russell, and Leyla McCalla (instrumental backing by Russell’s Rainbow Coalition band filled out the songs, making them feel lush and all the more powerful).
After a brief intermission, it was time for another roots supergroup: this time with Steve Martin and Alison Brown. Both were in fine form: Alison as expert as ever on the five string banjo, and Steve doing as close to a solo comedy set as we’ve seen in years. It was a portion of the show who’s only fault was that it felt much too short. But there was still plenty of music to come…
Helms returned to the stage with Rhiannon for an a capella duet before picking up the banjo and joining her Old-Time Revue. Finally, we were back on that massive front porch. For the final portion of the evening, Rhiannon, Dirk, and the rest of the band (Dirk Powell, Amelia Powell, Jason Sypher, Demeanor) made a very large group of strangers feel like we were home. And in the immortal words of Paul Simon with which Giddens closed the show “We [came] in the age’s most uncertain hours // To sing an American Tune.”
Below, enjoy our BGS exclusive photos from American Tunes.
Dirk Powell and Rhiannon Giddens kick off American Tunes at the Hollywood Bowl while the sun sets in the west.
Rhiannon Giddens and Our Native Daughters joined by members of Allison Russell's Rainbow Coalition. (L to R:) Amythyst Kiah, Megan McCormick, Allison Russell, Rhiannon Giddens, Megan Coleman, Leyla McCalla, Ganessa James.
A roots music supergroup, Our Native Daughters sparkle at the Hollywood Bowl.
Our Native Daughters and the Rainbow Coalition take a bow.
BGS co-founder, actor/comedian Ed Helms, welcomes the audience to American Tunes.
Alison Brown Band takes the stage. (L to R:) Tristan Scroggins, Robbie Fulks, Brown, Garry West, Christian Sedelmeyer.
Actor, comedian, playwright, and banjoist extraordinaire Steve Martin was on hand for American Tunes, as well.
Steve Martin leads Alison Brown and band through a tune.
Singer-songwriter Robbie Fulks steps to the microphone with Steven Martin, Alison Brown, and more.
Actor, comedian, playwright, and banjoist extraordinaire Steve Martin was on hand for American Tunes, as well.
The evening's spearhead, Rhiannon Giddens, joins Steve Martin, Alison Brown, and band for a number.
The American Tunes audience fills up the hillside at the Hollywood Bowl.
Rhiannon Giddens' Old-Time Revue, featuring (L to R) Amelia Powell, Dirk Powell, Jason Sypher, Demeanor (Justin Harrington), Giddens, and Justin Robinson.
Ed Helms and Rhiannon Giddens in duet.
Rhiannon Giddens' Old-Time Revue beneath the lights of the Hollywood Bowl.
Ed Helms joins Rhiannon Giddens and band on stage for "Clinch Mountain Backstep."
A rapt audience for American Tunes and Rhiannon Giddens' Old-Time Revue.
I’ve been enamored by the West since I first set a dusty boot down in Marathon, Texas – a town that would be my spiritual hometown, if such things existed.
I made my last record, Marathon, with my incredibly talented friend Davis Naish in a tiny adobe house in that little town. For the new record, we camped out in his Los Angeles studio, so I figured, “Hey, let me put together a playlist that I think captures the way I feel about the vast stretch of land that lies between Marathon and LA.” Road trip! – Drew Kennedy
“Desperados Waiting For A Train” – Guy Clark
Guy was born in Monahans, Texas, not too far from Marathon, so this feels like a natural starting point. To me, there are few artists who are able to capture the spirit of Far West Texas like Guy Clark. With equal parts romance, unflinching honesty, and those trademark turns of phrase that make him a hero to songwriters who know, Guy can always make me feel like I’m standing beside him in the little movies that are his songs.
“Levelland” – James McMurtry
If you trekked due north and just a little east out of Monahans, eventually those sand hills and mesas play out into plains so flat and wide open it can make the uninitiated feel uncomfortable. A friend once told me a buddy of his said he didn’t like it because “there was no place to hide.” From what or whom didn’t matter. You’re just out there, totally exposed–the only thing breaking the perfect line between land and sky. Those McMurtrys sure know how to tell a good story. Anyway, if we kept going north we’d be getting farther away from California, so let’s hang a left.
“Watch It Shine” – Walt Wilkins
Walt Wilkins is another songwriting hero and I’m lucky to call him a friend, as well. The Poet Laureate of the Hill Country teams up with Owen Temple to take you on a ride following the Rio Grande as it snakes south from Taos towards Santa Fe. It also features one of my favorite lines I’ve ever heard in a song: “They say there’s iron in these mountains, and in bone and skin and mud/ They say that iron only comes from stars, so stars are in my blood.” Goosebumps every time.
“Low Sun” – Hermanos Gutiérrez
Put a ranch water in my hand, fire up this album, and cue a good sunset. The only three ingredients I need to find my favorite places inside my mind no matter where on earth I am. Doubly effective if I’m already in one of my favorite places.
“Don’t Worry” – Marty Robbins (single, 1961)
We’re getting out into the type of landscape most people who’ve never visited the desert picture in their heads when someone mentions it. Saguaros, red rocks. We’re well beyond El Paso now, so we’ll go with this beauty from Marty Robbins. Yes, that is the coolest guitar solo of all time. I’ve heard several different stories about how they got that sound, but however they came by that tone, hell yeah.
“Willin'” – Little Feat
We’ve covered a lot of ground… maybe we’re dragging a little bit after all of those miles. The boys in Little Feat know how we feel, and they’ve got our back.
“Queen of California” – John Mayer
Now that we’re pulling into town we need something we can nod along to with our Wayfarers on and our hair blowing in the sweet California breeze, as we take in the sights. This song is a badass way to kick off a record, too.
“Beautiful World” – Colin Hay
I mean, when we get there one of the first things we’re gonna do is jump into the Pacific, right? I love that Colin Hay sounds like Colin Hay and nobody else and man, do I love the way he writes a song.
“It Never Rains In Southern California” – Trent Summar & The New Row Mob
I love their version of this song. It’s not all sunshine and roses out there, you know.
“California Poppy” – Theo Lawrence
I was shocked when I found out this guy was from France. Sometimes people in Texas are shocked when they find out I’m from Pennsylvania. Point is, if it’s in you, it’s in you. I would believe it if you told me the ghosts of Buck Owens and Don Rich were sprinkling a little of that Bakersfield dust around the studio the day they laid this one down.
“Mama Told Me Not To Come” – Randy Newman
I’ve aged out of today’s version of this kind of party, but that doesn’t mean I don’t expect to see some unexpected things whenever I’m out in LA. Another one-of-one, Randy Newman.
“Texas Time” – Explorer Tapes
And with that, let’s turn this big baby blue Cadillac convertible around and head back home. I assume that’s the kind of ride we’d want for this road trip. Thanks for tagging along.
SaraWatkins joins BasicFolk to talk about Wild and Clear and Blue, the new album from I’m With Her, her band with Sarah Jarosz and Aoife O’Donovan. The new LP was inspired by looking back on your life in order to move forward, with a very witchy manner of speaking that encompasses the ancient, mysterious, and spiritual. Sara shares insights into the unique telepathic connection they feel within the band, which was palpable from their first public appearance in 2014. Watkins is at it again with her incredible vocal performances on this album, bringing to mind Fiona Apple – especially on the “Sisters of the Night Watch.”
A longtime Angeleno, Sara gets into the meaning of another song, “Standing on the Fault Line,” which finds her reconsidering what’s safe, what’s permanent, and what is essential in order to remain in California. She also explains how the group’s tight-knit sisterhood and collaborative efforts have strengthened over the years. Elsewhere, we talk about the meaning of a “supergroup” versus a cohesive band, artistic processes, and how personal history and motherhood have impacted their music. Additionally, we explore the challenges of balancing life on tour, the importance of small talk, the necessity of doing music as a hobby for personal fulfillment, and the massive annual band party that inspired “Year After Year.”
Artist:Rose Betts Hometown: London, United Kingdom Latest Album:There Is No Ship (released March 7)
What has been the best advice you’ve received in your career so far?
When I lived in London, my parents would often come to my shows. Right before I’d go on, my mother would say, “Tell me a story.” It seems so simple to put it that way, but really it was such a wonderful gem of advice, a steady light, a root to hold onto. It’s easy to get caught up in other things, when I’m playing live I have to fight against the problems of not hearing myself, the lights, raucous crowds. When I’m singing a song to my phone to share on TikTok I’m thinking about the lighting, or whether its engaging enough. Even when I’m in a room with executives and they’re trying to figure out if I’m worth investing in – keeping that line of “tell me a story” in my head and my heart ties me to the old and beautiful tradition of what songwriting is and, when you take all the egos and the money out of it, what everybody wants to be a part of. We are born storytellers, all of us, and that is the thing that ties us together and helps us grow.
What other art forms – literature, film, dance, painting, etc. – inform your music?
I actually turn to other art forms for inspiration much more than I turn to music. Literature has always been important to me and totally informs more songwriting. Melody is a gift from the air, it isn’t something I overthink, but words, and everything that can be poured into a melody through them, are so magical to me. Authors like Tolstoy, Turgenev, Austen, and Emily Brontë, poets like Keats, Philip Larkin, Seamus Heaney – they all inspire me in different ways to become a better songwriter. I love the challenge of finding new ways to say old things. It offers me and also the listener a chance to look afresh at the world and at themselves.
Which elements of nature do you spend the most time with and how do those impact your work?
Nature is my church, it is where I go to free my mind. Living in LA, I’ve become acquainted with a different kind of nature and I’m not sure it suits me. England is lush, the greens are abundant, the air is rich and full of moisture, it weighs the sky down, bringing it nearly within touching distance. None of this is in LA. So my favourite thing to do here is to drive to San Bernardino, up into the mountains, to Crestline. Being around those trees fills me up, I can feel it nourishing something in me.
Nature roots me to the simplicity of what it is to be alive. It is passive and without pity – a witness. I feel like songs need what human beings need: air and light and water. But everyone has feet that touch the earth, so all songs need to have a part of themselves in contact with the ground, the roots, the stone.
If you didn’t work in music, what would you do instead?
I’d like to think I’d have some quiet job somewhere which gave me lots of time to read, maybe as a librarian or a translator of foreign literature. Or perhaps something in costume or fashion – I love making clothes and I love film costume, so being someone who brought the world of film to life through costume would be pretty wonderful.
Does pineapple really belong on pizza?
Surely trying to police pizza is like trying to say that a violin only belongs in an orchestra and you can’t have pancakes for dinner. Think about all the wonderful things we’ve made because we broke the rules. I love when cultures mix together and make something new and unexpected, it happens all the time, and should be celebrated. That said I don’t have pineapple on my pizza.
Last week, JOHNNYSWIM – husband-and-wife indie-folk duo of Amanda Sudano Ramirez and Abner Ramirez – released their highly-anticipated new album, When the War Is Over. A stand out track, “Los Feliz,” can be found second-to-last in the sequence.
“Los Feliz” was written by Ramirezes and songwriter-producer Britten Newbill. It kicks in with grooving, pocketed drums and warm electric guitar, loping as if up and down the southern California hills.
“Somethin’ ‘bout LA/ Golden hour getaway/ Oh… I want you close,” Amanda sings the opening lines. Abner picks up where she leaves off, creating another musical dialogue – a common facet of the pair’s music across their twenty-year-plus catalog. Their songs feel like intimate vignettes, a window into their lives, their relationship, their family, and their creative processes.
“Los Feliz” is a love song– to each other, to Los Angeles, and to their favorite neighborhood, of course. The lyrics and message feel especially apropos since the devastating LA wildfires, as we all feel heartbroken seeing these neighborhoods we hold dear forever altered. But, like in the track, there’s plenty of redemption to be found in this beautiful city and this sweet corner of the City of Angels.
To celebrate When The War Is Over, JOHNNYSWIM brought Good Country along on an adorable Los Feliz date, taking us and our readers to a few of their favorite spots, captured by their longtime friend and photographer Amy Waters.
Below, Amanda describes their date for each of us as we all get the unlikely treat of third wheeling with JOHNNYSWIM.
Little Dom’s
One of our favorite date activities is to go to Little Dom’s in Los Feliz. It’s an old school Italian restaurant with delicious food, a cozy vibe, and it just makes you feel like you’re in a movie.
Reckless Unicorn
After that, we walk right across the street to an adorable toy shop called The Reckless Unicorn. Because we’re parents (and every parent knows that you can’t go on a date night without talking about your kids), we end up buying our kids presents so they get excited when we go on date nights knowing they’ll usually get a treat when we come home.
Vermont Ave. x Melbourne Ave.
From there, we’ll take a stroll around the neighborhood. There’s a beautiful florist on the corner of Vermont and Melbourne where we’ll pick up some flowers or a plant, or even just smell some roses.
Maru
Want more Good Country? Sign up on Substack to receive our monthly email newsletter – and much more music! – direct to your inbox.
In 2022, punk-blues innovator Sunny War moved into her late father’s house in Chattanooga, Tennessee, and began making repairs. There was no heat that first winter and the house needed a full electrical rewiring. By winter 2023, she had the money to heat the place, but as the temperature rose each night, Sunny felt a strange impulse to patrol the house in the dark, swinging her grandfather’s machete at the ghosts inhabiting the top floor.
At the start of our Zoom call interview in January, Sunny recounts the bizarre magical realism of the weeks she spent living with an undiscovered gas leak. I ask enough follow-up questions to be reassured that my friend is not still being fumigated in her own home before I allow myself to belly laugh. “I have to fix everything,” she sighs.
Sunny goes on to explain that by the time the city discovered and fixed the problem, the mood had already been set for her forthcoming album, Armageddon in a Summer Dress. I would describe the results as psychedelic and subtly dangerous.
My friend Sunny can be a little hard to read, a fact which she mentions at one point during our call. We first met at Americanafest in 2019. It was my second year traveling from New York to Tennessee for the annual roots music conference and festival. That summer I had made up my mind to bring Black artists together during the festival for our own unofficial day party. I booked Dee’s Country Cocktail Lounge, cross-referenced names on the festival poster with Google image searches, and sent out a few invitations. Sunny agreed to perform, as did Tré Burt and Milwaukee folk duo Nickel & Rose (featuring Carl Nichols, the artist soon to become Buffalo Nichols). One after another we played our songs then stepped out onto the Madison, Tennessee, porch, most of us meeting for the first time. It was the greatest number of Black people I had ever been around in a professional space since releasing my debut album in 2017.
It was clear to me even then that Sunny was a star. Carl, Tré, and I were on ascendant career arcs of our own, but Sunny was out ahead somehow. She was already well known in songwriter circles for her inimitable movements on the guitar and for her punk rock roots, but it was the intensity of her stage presence that stood out to me most on that first meeting. I watched her suck in the air and light around her as she sang, quietly commanding the audience’s attention. Songs like “Drugs Are Bad” and “Shell” became spells when sung in War’s almost-effortless, warmly breathy style. She appeared peaceful in her own creative world amidst the restless energy of the festival.
2019 was also the year that Sunny founded the downtown Los Angeles chapter of Food Not Bombs, a national network of community groups addressing hunger. In interviews about the movement she was candid about having experienced houselessness herself and how she noticed the disproportionate presence of veterans on the street. She organized weekly meetups in which volunteers made meals and shared them, potluck-style, with their unhoused neighbors on skid row. When COVID hit they switched to burritos and sack lunches. On “Deployed and Destroyed,” one of the outstanding tracks from Sunny’s 2021 album, Simple Syrup, she invites her listener to spend three minutes and 54 seconds in the shoes of a 26-year-old unhoused veteran experiencing PTSD. When I listen to her sing “I still love you/ We’re still friends” I feel like I am sitting beside her. This is what Aristotle and contemporary Marxists call “praxis.”
Sunny is fearless on stage. Six years into our friendship I remain awed by the way in which she commands attention without ever seeming contained by it. Her presence has a kinetic power that you can more easily get lost in than describe. We met up in Chicago on a winter night in early 2023 when Sunny was on tour and I was in between tours. Both of us were depressed, I think. Wide, wet snowflakes were beginning to fall outside while we caught up over drinks. We bribed the DJ into letting us jump the line for karaoke and then launched into a formally unconventional performance of Destiny’s Child’s “Jumpin’ Jumpin’.” The mostly-white crowd of beer-drinking twenty-somethings were amused at first and then bored. I gave up. Sunny stayed the course, winning the audience over with mischief in her eyes.
Later that year Sunny released Anarchist Gospel on New West Records to well-deserved, unanimous acclaim. The album featured Americana heavy hitters Allison Russell, Dave Rawlings, and Chris Pierce. She also toured with Mitski, broadening her fandom to include more indie listeners. I cheered my friend from afar, mostly on Instagram, as her star continued to rise.
When I ask about her memories of that album cycle, Sunny enthusiastically recalls the younger audiences who discovered her music. She expresses gratitude that a 14-year-old at a Mitski concert, someone who “actually is into music for the first time in their life, in the way that you are when you hate your parents and all you have is music” would become a fan. A lot of journalists described her as an “emerging” artist or a songwriter soon to be one of the most beloved in Americana. But for those of us on the fringes of the format, Sunny had been the best around for a minute and the momentum of her career spoke for itself.
Sunny’s latest album, Armageddon In A Summer Dress, comes out on February 21. I ask her to describe the new record in her own words. “Silly,” she responds. I ask if there is a genre descriptor for her music in general. She says, “No.” I am going to follow the artist’s lead and not do her album the disservice of describing it too much. I will say that Armageddon In A Summer Dress is her seventh full-length effort and contains her most inspired vocal performances yet – and some of her finest lyrics.
There is a haze hovering in the top layers of some of these tunes. The winding guitar melodies often weave themselves into the vocal lines, but sometimes they go their own way. I ask her if audiences are reacting to the Black anarchist content of her songs differently than they did the last time she released a folk album with transparently leftist politics. “I don’t feel like people pay that much attention to my lyrics,” she responds. Her primary musical concern, she reflects, is playing the guitar. And in any case, the best way to metabolize these songs is by listening to them repeatedly.
Sunny, Carl, Tré, and I have remained loosely intertwined in the years since that first Americana kickback. We have toured together. We run into each other at festivals and in thrift shops. Tré and Sunny were roommates for a time and in the summertime can be seen riding bikes like cousins in Sunny’s recent music video for “Scornful Heart.” I interview my friends periodically.
We all continue to embody aspects of the blues tradition while resisting categorization. Sunny continues moving patiently through her own cycles of living, transforming, creating in darkness, and then telling the story. She leaps unexpectedly from now to the future and then doubles back to sample tradition, inviting you to keep up. Her lyrics are disarmingly empathetic. Like all great artists, Sunny moves in her own time, less concerned with debating the canon than she is with creating the future. She looks back on the nights she hunted ghosts with her grandfather’s machete joking, “That wasn’t me!”
There is great integrity in Sunny’s storytelling, which means that no matter how long it has been since we last spoke, she will catch me up quickly when we meet again. I ask her who the narrator of “No One Calls Me Baby” is, trying to signal that I am a feminist who recognizes women writers as authors beyond the world of autobiography. But she quickly tells me that the narrator is her and fills me in on the past few months of her life. She has been single for over a year, and has been learning to enjoy the alone time in a house she owns. We commiserate about being single, but we are both leaned back by this point, looking down on loneliness together. “No one calls me baby anymore/ I hold my own hand now…”
One of my favorite things about Sunny is that whether she’s playing a dive bar or a sold-out theater, everyone walks away dazzled. She is just as warm and entertaining sitting across from you in her home. She accompanies herself.
Carolyn Kendrick’s latest project explores complex themes of moral panic, tradition, and the figure of the devil (AKA Satan, AKA Lucifer). The LA-based songwriter opens up about the inspiration behind her album, Each Machine, which is accompanied by a thought-provoking zine. In our Basic Folk conversation, she discusses the significance of the color red in her work, symbolizing themes of anger, danger, and familial ties, and how it contrasts with the black and white imagery used throughout the project.
Carolyn also shares her unexpected journey into researching the devil, sparked by a podcast project that ended up overtaking her life, leading her to interview the leader of the Satanic Temple, among many others. This deep dive into the topic became a way for her to process the overwhelming political and cultural landscape. She candidly discusses the challenges of maintaining balance while being consumed by such a heavy subject matter (spoiler alert: she did not maintain balance at all).
We also touch on Carolyn’s work in podcasting (You’re Wrong About, You Are Good) and how it has influenced her approach to music. She reflects on the importance of integrating culture and music, creating a world-building experience that connects various aspects of her life. Carolyn’s creation of the Gender Equity Audio Workshop, along with co-producer and Each Machine collaborator Isa Burke, highlights the power of women supporting each other in the music industry, fostering an environment where questions can be asked without fear of judgment.
She expands on her exploration of traditional songs through a devilish lens, which allowed her to examine how their meanings shift when viewed in this context. She also discusses her dual versions of the hymn “Are You Washed in the Blood,” inspired by Naomi Klein’s book ‘Doppelganger,’ and how they represent different facets of her musical identity.
Throughout this episode of Basic Folk, Carolyn Kendrick offers insights into forgiveness and harm, emphasizing the need for solution-focused actions in today’s society. Our chat concludes with a fun and quirky Satan-themed lightning round, where Carolyn shares her favorite pop culture depictions of Satan and imagines a music festival in hell. The devil is fun again!
Even before The Bluegrass Situation was its own entity, pre-dating the existence of this website, we’ve been proud to call Los Angeles home. From our co-founder Ed Helms’ original shows at Largo, or our first, homespun blog, Bluegrass LA, or our debut festival, the LA Bluegrass Situation, to today – boosting and presenting shows across Los Angeles County, building our new variety show, the Good Country Goodtime, and beyond, staying connected with the myriad of folks who make this place so special and vital – Los Angeles has been the perfect cradle for growing our worldwide roots music community.
Last week, we watched anxiously with the rest of the world as an rare wind event in Southern California turned into one of the most devastating series of wildfires in the nation’s history. Many of these fires are still burning, causing the destruction of thousands of homes, structures, and businesses and torching countless acres, so many precious landmarks, and irreplaceable memories. While we are incredibly grateful our team members who are based in Los Angeles are safe and sound, we’re acutely aware that so many of our neighbors, loved ones, and community members have not been so lucky.
We spoke to musician, singer-songwriter, and Mipso member Jacob Sharp – who recently moved to Altadena – about his own experiences over the last week, as his and his partner Cate’s neighborhood burned down around their home.
“I’m from a tiny town the western North Carolina foothills,” Sharp explains via email, amidst phone calls with FEMA and filing insurance claims. “I’m obsessed with cities with expansive music communities only rivaled by their even more expansive food scenes. I couldn’t believe it when I found out there are tiny towns in the foothills of the San Gabriel mountains on the edge of America’s most-difficult-to-navigate city where the true wildness of nature meets the beauty of urban chaos. Altadena felt like the best kept secret in California.
“We moved out to the hills a few months ago inspired by the current creative community that calls it home, by the insane music and food hangs that casually happen here on a daily basis because of it, by its historically diverse intermingling of racial worlds (there are more historic Black homeowners in Altadena than basically anywhere else in LA), and by the ease with which you can fade from the urban landscape into some of the best hiking in Southern California. (We have friends who see a bear in their yard literally every day).”
“It was everything I’d ever wanted in a community,” Sharp continues. “I’d drive back from other neighborhoods and feel my shoulders relax as the mountains came into view. Today I drove back to our still-standing but currently-unlivable home crying, seeing those same mountains now devoid of their greenery and smoldering in the hazy morning light and replaying the sequence of events that altered our little world forever.
“We could see the Eaton fire from our backyard well before the emergency notifications came rolling in. We grabbed a go-bag with a headlamp, change of clothes, toiletries, all my instruments, some comfort items for the pup, and we rolled down the hill towards safety. We spent the night in the downtown Pasadena Hilton, where we were cruelly upgraded to a ‘mountain view’ room perfectly situated for watching our neighborhood burn to the ground overnight.
“My partner Cate is a therapist. Between her community of therapists and mine of musicians we have only two friends out of 16 who live in the neighborhood that still have a home. And, we have our health. We are so, so lucky. But with smoke damage making the house currently unlivable and the National Guard standing watch on every cross street starting half a block from us, we’re realizing that whether your house is standing or not, we all have one loss in common: our beautiful community.
“We had space in our car as we evacuated, but no desire to stick around and load more,” Sharp describes leaving behind so many of their earthly possessions. “It was clarifying how easy it was to say goodbye to our physical things. They’re all replaceable.”
“Altadena was such a magic community we delayed our move back to the East Coast by a few years so we could have a kid here. We knew our neighbors, saw friends on every walk, and if you forgot your wallet while picking up coffee you could always pay them next time, because they knew you and knew you’d be back. It was that type of place. After traveling the world on tour the past 13 years wondering at every stop along the way, ‘Could I call this place home?’ I’m realizing what’s irreplaceable is having finally found that place. We’ll find our magic again, but it’s going to be a long road. There are so, so many people who could use your help if you have resources to give – below you can find some I’m giving to.”
Los Angeles is a city of makers. Of creators and dreamers, of actors, singers, writers, and poets. So many of those directly impacted by the fearsome power of these fires have been folks in our immediate roots music circles. From Altadena and Pasadena to Pacific Palisades and Malibu, this disaster has not discriminated. Whether well-known and well-loved superstars or pickers we know from the neighborhood jam, publicists and publishers and agents and managers alike; the flames burned through homes, livelihoods, histories, and futures with zero regard for name or notoriety.
Luckily, that same collective of creators and makers are a vibrant and robust community – and just as we watched the fires destroy, we’re watching the people of Los Angeles rebuild in real time. There’s much to be done and there are seemingly endless needs to meet, but solidarity, mutual aid, and togetherness are not in short supply.
“It’s hard to put into words what I and so many other Angelenos are feeling right now,” BGS executive director Amy Reitnouer Jacobs shares. “It waffles between shock, anxiety, despair, and exhaustion as we watch our friends lose everything and our city burn. But amidst those feelings of grief, there is also an immense welling of hope. People are showing up for each other in unprecedented ways.”
That’s what it’s all about. As the climate crisis worsens and we re-enter an exceedingly unpredictable political reality, this kind of community action will become more and more vital. We’ve seen this is true over the past decade, through periods of racial reckonings, police violence, unrest, and growing political activism. Community-centered collective action is what will get us through. In bluegrass, in roots music, and beyond.
“I have never been so proud of this place and have never loved this city as much as I do right now,” Reitnouer Jacobs continues. “Los Angeles will always be home for me, for BGS, and for our amazing musical community.”
Below, we’ve collected a few resources from our artistic communities in Los Angeles and from mutual aid and community organizations working on the ground in southern California. If you’re able, we encourage you to donate, to volunteer, to show up however you can and whenever you can for our friends and fellow roots music lovers who have had their lives permanently altered by these wildfires.
All we have is each other, but when we support and care for each other – no matter what – that fact is always enough.
Support the Music Community
Local on-the-ground organizers have compiled THIS LIST of fundraising pages, resources, and urgent needs for musicians, instrumentalists, producers, and artists in the Los Angeles area. As of this writing, it has raised more than $6,000,000 across its various fundraisers and donation pages. Hundreds of families and individuals have been affected and are listed in the spreadsheet. If you’re looking for a way to directly support, this is a great collection of options.
Need support? Eachof thesedirectories includes instructions for submitting your own fundraiser, if applicable. Giving support? Find countless fundraisers and offer direct support here, here, and here.
The LA Times has put together a lengthy and exhaustive list of local organizations working on fire relief. From dog and pet rescue orgs to the American Red Cross to the California Fire Foundation. There are plenty of options and plenty of missions to support.
The Guitar Center Foundation has announced that they will accept applications from musicians to replace gear and instruments lost to the fire:
“Have you lost instruments and gear?” The foundation asks via social media. “If you’ve been impacted by this week’s fires, please visit our website for information and to request instrument replacement assistance. The Guitar Center Music Foundation is committed to supporting our music community in times of need.”
Those impacted by the disaster will be able to apply for grants of replacement instruments and gear until February 28, 2025.
Mutual Aid LA has been collating and disseminating shelters, resources, and relief programs for folks actively in crisis and for folks looking for a way to give and help. You can find their spreadsheet of resources here, but you can also find more information and learn how to participate in mutual aid on their website.
MusiCares has long been an indispensable program of the Recording Academy with a mission of supporting music industry professionals in crisis or in periods of hardship. They’ve already begun dispensing emergency funds to music industry folks in need, as well as collecting donations specifically to support those impacted by the fires. You can donate to support MusiCares here. You can find ways to get help from MusiCares here.
Sweet Relief Musicians Fund is a non-profit founded in the ’90s that provides financial assistance to musicians and industry professionals who are struggling to make ends meet. They’ve already begun accepting donations and applications following the LA fires.
Geared more towards actors, performers, and film industry and entertainment workers the Entertainment Community Fund (formerly The Actors Fund) has compiled a list of resources and organizations working on fire relief here. Entertainment professionals impacted by the wildfires can apply now for financial assistance and through the ECF can already access a variety of programs and aid.
Happy New Year! Our very first New Music Friday of 2025 brings our very first premiere roundup of the new year, too. We’re so excited to dive into another 12 months’ worth of superlative Americana, country, folk, bluegrass, old-time, and more.
Don’t miss a brand new track from critically acclaimed singer-songwriter Kora Feder, who debuts “Rambling Man” from her upcoming album, Some Kind of Truth. Her voice shines, crystalline and pure above a warm and crisp folk-rock-meets-Americana backing track. It’s a song about gender, wanderlust, expectations, and inhabiting agency – freedom.
Next, West Virginian (via Brooklyn) folk artist Olivia Ellen Lloyd brings us a lyric video for the title track for her highly anticipated 2025 record, Do It Myself. Staying within our coincidental theme of agency and autonomy, “Do It Myself” celebrates Lloyd’s self determination and self possession with her particular agnostic West Virginian blend of roots genres and styles. It’s indie, folk, Americana, country, and string band all wrapped up into one tidy, charming musical package.
To wrap up our first premiere collection of the year, don’t miss our latest Good Country Goodtime session from our debut GC variety show in Los Angeles last September. The latest installment of our exclusive clips from the show features “garage country” artist and songwriter Aubrie Sellers offering her stellar take on a country classic, “Make the World Go Away.” That voice!
You can find all this incredible music below and, honestly – You Gotta Hear This! Happy new year, happy new music.
Kora Feder, “Rambling Man”
Artist:Kora Feder Hometown: Detroit, Michigan Song: “Rambling Man” Album:Some Kind of Truth Release Date: January 3, 2025 (single); March 18, 2025 (album)
In Their Words: “‘Rambling Man’ is about self confidence as quiet rebellion. It’s about gender and beauty standards, about the feeling of achieving freedom from expectation and self-suppression. It’s the kind of song that can fuel a solo drive or inspire barefoot dance sessions in the kitchen. I hope that it is as empowering to listen to as it was to make.” – Kora Feder
Track Credits: Paul Mayer – Piano, drums Justin Farren – Guitar, bass, pads Written by Kora Feder Mixed by Justin Farren Mastered by Eric Broyhill
Olivia Ellen Lloyd, “Do It Myself”
Artist:Olivia Ellen Lloyd Hometown: Shepherdstown, West Virginia Song: “Do It Myself” Album:Do It Myself Release Date: January 3, 2025 (single); March 21, 2025 (album)
In Their Words: “When I sing this song, I think of the Rilke poem, ‘Archaic Torso of Apollo.’ To me, that poem summarizes how art can move someone into action, and how we can be perceived by our creations just as we perceive them. I had memorized that poem over a decade ago for a speech class in undergrad, and on the day I sat down to write ‘Do It Myself,’ the last lines, ‘For here there is no place that cannot see you. You must change your life,’ came to me like a meditation.
“At many points over the almost two-year process of making this record, I had no idea how I was going to take the next step, pay for the next expense, or reach the next milestone. But I had a song that insisted that I could, I would – do it myself. So I kept moving, slowly at times, until it was complete. And every so often, at various stages of creating this album, I would play this song – first the bounce, then the rough mix, then drafts of the final mix – and dance around my apartment in Brooklyn. As if to remind myself that I could do it. Even if I didn’t know how (yet).” – Olivia Ellen Lloyd
The Good Country Goodtime: Aubrie Sellers
On September 27, Good Country and BGS debuted our brand new variety show, the Good Country Goodtime, at Dynasty Typewriter in Los Angeles. The inaugural show was hosted by country and bluegrass singer-songwriter Robbie Fulks and featured appearances by artists Victoria Bailey and Aubrie Sellers as well as a hilarious set by comedian and actor Kurt Braunohler. Backing up the talent was our first class Goodtime house band led by the Coral Reefers’ Mick Utley.
For our second installment in our series of clips from the September edition of the show, “garage country” artist and singer-songwriter Aubrie Sellers offers an incredible cover of a country classic, “Make the World Go Away.” Sellers is a fascinating roots artist with a deep and broad country and Americana pedigree. Her music combines so many genres – indie, folk, rock and roll, grunge, and blues blend effortlessly with bona fide old country chops and pop-meets-countrypolitan glamor. But here, on the Dynasty Typewriter stage, her rendition of the indispensable Hank Cochran-penned hit is remarkably simple and down-to-earth.
Music has and continues to be a form of healing for Fancy Hagood. The Arkansas-raised singer who takes his forename from the Drake song – not the Bobbie Gentry and Reba McEntire hit – first began writing songs as a queer junior high student struggling to fit in before dropping out of school at 17 to chase his newfound dreams in Nashville.
Despite growing up listening to everything from contemporary Christian music to The Chicks, Shania Twain, Tim McGraw, Destiny’s Child, and Missy Elliott, it was choir and theatre that brought Hagood’s own creative aspirations to life.
“I really found myself in those classes,” Hagood tells Good Country. “I was dealing with a lot of bullying at the time and writing music became one of the few ways I could truly express myself.”
But upon his arrival to Nashville, Hagood was told that a career as a queer country musician was unlikely. This was followed by a move to Los Angeles, coupled with a transition to pop, that led to him to opening for the likes of Meghan Trainor and Ariana Grande as he juggled a day job at Forever 21. Those opportunities coincided with a decrease in creative control over his own work, something he’s taken back for himself on 2021’s Southern Curiosity and his most recent project, American Spirit, which released October 25.
“I was hell-bent on this album not being a breakup record, but instead one about healing, moving forward, and finding yourself,” Hagood says of American Spirit. “I don’t want to be on the road singing songs about my ex, but I do want to sing about reclaiming your story, bouncing back, and that being the most powerful thing after experiencing something like that.”
Speaking on the phone from his Nashville home, Hagood detailed his ambitious Music City move, experiences with gatekeeping, his work with Apple Music, and more.
What was it like for you moving to Nashville so young? I imagine on one hand it’s quite empowering, but it can also be overwhelming too.
Fancy Hagood: On my song “Fly Away” I sing, “You were scared as hell to take the highway/ You barely knew how to drive…” and that’s the truth. I got my driver’s license when I was 16 and I never drove on the highway until I moved to Nashville, so it was very much a culture shock. I know a lot of people don’t view Nashville as a big city compared to New York or Los Angeles, but when you’re coming from small-town Arkansas it felt like the whole world had opened up for myself. There were parts of it that were really intimidating, but for the most part I had so much enthusiasm that you couldn’t really tell me anything. I had this idea that I was going to be a country superstar and you couldn’t tell me otherwise.
I know things haven’t always been easy for you though. You’ve dealt with some gatekeeping and other hurdles along the way. What’s that been like?
Before I moved to LA, I was getting all this attention in Nashville, selling out shows on my own. A lot was going on for not having any music out in the world yet. I quickly got a publishing deal, but instead of things taking off from there I started getting a bunch of people putting their own opinions on me and putting their own stuff into my music, thus limiting me because of their own fears. That was something I never had going into all of this – fear. It’s a complicated thing when you start mixing art and commerce. The powers that be recognize you have talent, but in figuring out how to make money from it they start thinking of Middle America and who’s going to buy it, leading to a fear game rather than just letting the artist be an artist.
When I moved to LA and got a record deal, that’s where other people’s fears began sinking into my own train of thought and my delusion began slipping away. I was accomplishing all these things, from performing on Dancing With the Stars to hitting the road with Ariana Grande, but on the inside I felt miserable. I realized I’d sacrificed so much of myself and my art to get to a place where other people found it comfortable for me to be successful, but a year and a half into it I just imploded and lost all the deals.
It wasn’t until moving back to Nashville in 2016 that I was able to shake all that off. In 2018 I signed a new publishing deal and began work on my album Southern Curiosity, a slow burn that didn’t release until 2021. It was a really difficult transition having [to go from] a Top 40 hit and everyone treating you like you’re the king of the castle to no hits, no deals, and nobody wants to touch you with a ten-foot pole. It was a humbling experience that taught me that the industry in place was not set up for someone like me to be successful. Because of that, my train of thought stopped being about how do I fit into the industry to thinking about how to create my own, which is exactly what I’ve been doing since Southern Curiosity.
One way you’ve been building that community you speak of is through your role as the host of Trailblazers Radio on Apple Music. What’s that gig meant to you?
I’ve never experienced a company that puts their money where their mouth is quite like Apple. They were supportive of me and my first record before hosting a radio show was even a thought. They first came to me after I guest-hosted on the late Leslie Jordan’s Apple Radio show, which I did three or four times with him. After that, they approached me with the Trailblazers idea and threw me into the deep end. When they offered it to me in 2021 I’d never done radio before and just recently we were picked up for our fourth season. My idea is to feature artists who don’t typically get those opportunities, allowing country music to be for everyone. If you look at our playlist you’ll see all kinds of artists on there, not just what country radio suggests Nashville is.
It’s also been meaningful getting to sit across from actual legends and people who have shattered the glass ceiling in country music. Each artist that’s come through our doors has taught me that not one artist’s journey is the same, which has done a lot for inspiring, motivating, and informing me as an artist.
Are there any particular moments or guests from the show that stand out?
I’d never met Jelly Roll before he came in for his interview and his heart just blew me away. Who he is at his core is so full of joy and his philanthropic side was really inspiring to me. He had just sold out Bridgestone Arena and donated all the money to an organization that helps incarcerated youth. Even when we weren’t recording he was wanting to know more about me, my art, and what I do. He’s just a stand-up person.
A moment ago you mentioned Leslie Jordan, whose loss you touch on (along with your grandmother’s) on the song “Good Grief.” I guess that goes back to songwriting being a method of healing?
Yeah, it came about during a writing session with my friend Jeremy Lutito on a particularly solemn day. We were both in sad moods, but in typical fashion when two guys are alone in a room the last thing they’ll do is ask, “What’s on your heart?” We got to talking about a situation with his family where their dog had passed away the night before, which led to a conversation about grief and having to walk his kids through it for the first time. As he was telling me this I just fell apart thinking of how grief is such a hard thing to come to terms with and reckon with, but sometimes it’s ultimately a good thing. We’d been struggling all day, but that song came about in only an hour or so. It was pure magic.
I’ve seen you refer to this album as a “breakup record,” and I feel like one song that really captures that essence is the title track, “American Spirit.” How’d it come about?
I wrote that with Gina Venier and Summer Overstreet. It started with this idea of cigarette season or a time in your life where you’re smoking and stressed. But with Gina, who’s also a queer artist, it evolved into a song about becoming someone else’s vice. It’s not an unheard-of story in the South, people not being able to fully speak to who they are or how they feel – there’s a lot of closet cases among us. I’ve dealt with that a lot in my time in Nashville and I know others have, too. The song is mostly a nod to those experiences and being an openly queer person dealing with others who aren’t open but are addicted to your openness and freedom and not being able to let that go.
What has music taught you about yourself?
It’s taught me that I’m resilient and can get through anything along with the power of believing in yourself. I’ve gone through a lot in this industry, but I keep coming back. This is what I love and I’m never going to stop.
Need more Good Country? Sign up on Substack to receive our monthly email newsletter full of Good Country direct to your inbox.
Photo Credit: Natalie Osborne
This website uses cookies to improve your experience. We'll assume you're ok with this, but you can opt-out if you wish.AcceptRead More
Privacy & Cookies Policy
Privacy Overview
This website uses cookies to improve your experience while you navigate through the website. Out of these, the cookies that are categorized as necessary are stored on your browser as they are essential for the working of basic functionalities of the website. We also use third-party cookies that help us analyze and understand how you use this website. These cookies will be stored in your browser only with your consent. You also have the option to opt-out of these cookies. But opting out of some of these cookies may affect your browsing experience.
Necessary cookies are absolutely essential for the website to function properly. This category only includes cookies that ensures basic functionalities and security features of the website. These cookies do not store any personal information.
Any cookies that may not be particularly necessary for the website to function and is used specifically to collect user personal data via analytics, ads, other embedded contents are termed as non-necessary cookies. It is mandatory to procure user consent prior to running these cookies on your website.
