The music, sparse and spooky, sounds at the same time strangely universal and possibly from the last century, but as Jerron Paxton notes in his album title, Things Done Changed. The major difference on Paxton’s fifth album (including his 2021 duet set with Dennis Lichtman) is a big one. He wrote the songs.
“It wasn’t a very difficult decision,” Paxton said. “I had always had a list of tunes to record of my own compositions. I had to get enough cogent tunes to be an album, because you can’t have something that’s all over the place.
“You can’t have overtures with your hoedowns.”
The material on Things Done Changed is evidence that Paxton is no novice songwriter. These are words infused with hard living, what he calls “a good album full of blues tunes.”
In the standout track, “So Much Weed,” Paxton weaves amusement and a little resentment that there are Black people still serving time for minor drug offenses in an era when legal marijuana stores are in many states.
“Things done changed from the ’90s until now/ Lend me your ear and I’ll sure tell you how/ We got so much weed/ And the law don’t care/ My poor uncles used to have to run and hide/ Now they sit on their front porch with pride.”
A telephone call with Paxton is an adventure. He doesn’t back down and enjoys putting you on the spot if you’re susceptible to that.
A lot of your work is in vintage music styles. Why not a more contemporary sound?
Jerron Paxton: I play a diverse array of styles. I started off playing the banjo and the fiddle. As a matter of fact, I’m one of the few professional Black five-string banjo players in the world.
You have roots in Los Angeles and your family is from Louisiana. How did each of those places affect your music?
Well, I play the music of that culture, so it affected it in totality. It’s like being Irish and playing Irish music.
Could you give me a sense of how you evolved as a musician?
I started off with the fiddle and moved to the banjo and the guitar and piano and things like that. It was just a natural evolution, getting interested in one and that leading to another and to another, growing up in the house that was full of the blues. That’s mostly what my family listened to. [My aunt] almost listened to strictly the blues, while my grandma was kind of eclectic like me, and listened to everything. She liked Hank Williams and all sorts of country music and jazz and everything like that.
… I grew up in, first of all, a family full of Black people. So I got exposed to all sorts of Black folk music and Black popular music of every generation. You were just as liable to hear [Mississippi] John Hurt and Son House and Bukka White in my house as to hear Marvin Gaye, Michael Jackson, and Sam Cooke. If you heard bluegrass, that was mostly me. I was the one blasting Flatt & Scruggs and people like that.
You didn’t grow up in Louisiana, yet your music seems to be tied to music from the South.
My grandparents grew up there. My family migrated to Los Angeles with the death of Emmett Till and they brought their culture with them. But that doesn’t say much, because the majority of the culture in South Central [Los Angeles] is from Louisiana, so it’s not like we went someplace completely foreign. We went someplace where we were surrounded by people who were from where we were from.
I love the song “So Much Weed.” It’s a funny song about a serious thing, that there are many Black people in prison for marijuana convictions on charges that are now legal. Do people laugh when you play it?
I don’t play it live. Well, I don’t play it on stage. I usually play it in small gatherings for close friends.
Would you tell me more about your grandmother and how she influenced your music?
She was a fun, loving lady from northwestern Louisiana. My mother had to work, so I spent most of my time with [my grandmother] and grew up gardening and fishing, and getting the culture that you get when you’re raised in the house with your grandmother. Her mother was across the street. So I had four generations of family on one street.
So some of the songs on Things Done Changed were written some time ago. Why sit on them?
Some of the tunes were kind of personal and I just sort of kept them for myself and my friends. Other ones I had been singing on stage for a little while and said, “Maybe I should record this song first chance I get.” And other ones I had been singing since I was little, since my grandma helped find some words to them. So it’s all kinds of processes. Some of them take a lot of labor.
Do you mostly like to work alone live, or do you like to mix it up with other musicians sometimes?
It depends on the context. If I’m being hired as a soloist, that’s what you do, and that seems to be the most in demand. There’s not too many people who can go on the stage by themselves and hold the audience for 45 or 90 minutes or two hours with just the instrument. So people tend to hire me for that and there’s a lot of solo material unexplored because of that. But I play jazz music, so that’s a collective art. I play country music, which is also a collective art. I play blues music, which is a collective art. So you know, they’re all collective, but the solo is what people ask for. It travels easy.
So how would you like your career to develop? Do you have a plan?
I’d like to be filthy rich, just grotesquely rich and have a mansion with a lake. [Laughs] … But to be honest, I’m kind of enjoying building what I have, and I haven’t really seen any end to it. That might be a good thing. It just seems to be getting better. So I don’t see a need to worry about the end as much as how to make the best parts of what’s happening now last longer.
What kind of rooms are you working? Are you doing clubs for the most part?
I play festivals and basically any place that’ll have it, theaters and places like that. Any place that wants good music, I try to be there to supply.
The first time I heard Billy Strings’ name was in 2014, from a guitar picking pilot friend of mine from northern Kentucky who was working up in Michigan. I first met him at the Frankfort Bluegrass Festival in Illinois two or three years later, by which time I’d played a song or two from the Fiddle Tune X album on the satellite radio show I was hosting with Del McCoury. Billy had either recently gotten or was about to get his first IBMA Award for Momentum Instrumentalist of the Year (his then-roommate, Molly Tuttle, got one at the same time).
After that, I’d see him from time to time – I was already writing songs with fellow Michigander and Billy’s across-the-street neighbor Lindsay Lou – but it wasn’t until June 18, 2018, that we got together to write our first song, “Love Like Me.” We wrote a few more after that, he went into the studio, and put most of them on 2019’s Home. Since then, working as a team with another Michigander, Aaron Allen, we’ve written many more, for Renewal and now for Highway Prayers, too. To be honest, it’s been a little life-changing – a taste, at least, of what it must have been like for Music Row songwriters back in the day.
One striking feature of Billy’s trajectory has been his ability to keep the enthusiasm of the normative bluegrass industry and community that the IBMA generally represents; my social media feeds regularly remind me that most of the stalwart traditionalists among my friends – people who grew up immersed in scenes that trace back to the music’s earliest days – aren’t dissing Billy Strings. They’re cheering him on. That hasn’t always been the case with bluegrass artists bringing the sound and the songs to larger-than-usual audiences, but it’s indisputable here, as three successive IBMA Entertainer of the Year awards (finally supplanted this year by Del, another traditionalist admirer) demonstrate.
The reason, I think, is that, as BGS Editor Justin Hiltner puts it in his Artist of the Month reveal essay, “the most innovative and revolutionary aspects of Billy Strings and his version of bluegrass are not what he’s changed, but what has stayed the same.” When the BGS team invited me to have a chat with Billy for Artist of the Month, I figured it was, among other things, an opportunity to dig deeper into that idea – and so I did.
Together, we talked about recording Highway Prayers, about working in a band, about writing songs and making set lists. We talked about a number of things, but somehow always wound back up, again and again, at the endlessly rewarding music of Mac Wiseman and Larry Sparks, “Riding That Midnight Train” and “Cumberland Gap,” “Uncle Pen” and more.
Does it get any more bluegrass than that?
You didn’t record Highway Prayers all at once, did you? Wasn’t it recorded over a while?
Billy Strings: Right. We started in January out in LA at EastWest Studios, with Jon Brion the producer and Greg Koller at the helm as engineer. We recorded a few tunes out there. I really love what we got sonically, but I just don’t know if being in LA while trying to make a record was right for us – we were right downtown in freaking LA, man. I felt like, “What the hell am I doing out here in this big city where all these movie stars are, trying make a record?” I was working with Jon [Brion], who is a genius, that’s where he likes to work and the sounds we were getting were awesome and everything was cool, but I think it was also at a time where I was wanting to get the guys together without a producer and just throw stuff at the wall.
So we threw a makeshift little studio together and brought in Brandon Bell, and that’s where we recorded a good bulk of it – just threw up a couple of mics with a little lunch box of pre-amps and went for it. We would sit there and work a song out and then go upstairs and cut it. The great thing about being at my house was, it’s like there’s no authority figure there and it doesn’t feel like a studio – it just feels like we’re at band practice. And if you wanted, while somebody’s trying to do a overdub or something, you could go for a bike ride. Just that in itself was mentally freeing.
I will say that the tones we were getting out there with Jon were unquestionably better to me. But I’m kind of in the spot where I’m just, like, “Does it really matter?” Well, even if most people listen to music on their damn phone, it does matter. That’s how you make a sound that can evoke emotion. But also, as a bluegrass musician, any time we get with somebody or something, it’s like, “We should record you guys on these old ribbon mics and straight to tape with no edits,” and it’s just like, “Well, dude, it’s 2024.”
I feel like in some ways when people do that, they’re kind of privileging the process over the result, when the result is what people are gonna hear and what they’re gonna relate to.
Yeah, I’m just chasing something and I’m not trying to think about it too much. I read something in a book the other day, it’s called Blues and Trouble, by Tom Piazza. He says that sometimes you can push an idea up a hill, and you gotta push and push to get it to the top of the hill, but sometimes an idea gets going and you have to run to keep up. That’s where I like to be – you know what I’m talking about as a songwriter – when it just kind of falls out. Those are the best ones, you know, and quite a few of these songs just rolled off the page. Like “Be Your Man,” for instance, I wrote it in 20 minutes; it just came out. Of course there are other ones you have to work hard on, but, man, those – I just love when they show up like that, it almost feels like you just siphoned it out of the ether. Who wrote the song, you know?
That’s something that I’ve heard a lot over the years from a lot of great songwriters: it’s just like pulling it out of the air, and it kind of falls right in there. When you’re in that zone, you can’t hardly beat that.
No, you gotta keep going with it, you know. It’s hard to get in that zone, and like I said, it’s rare for me, it might only happen a couple of times a year that I write a song like that. That’s how “Dust In a Baggie” was. I wrote it in 30 minutes at work – I didn’t even have a guitar, I just had the melody in my head and a little notepad. I was cleaning rooms at the hotel and I sat there and wrote that. That’s still how the song is today, you know, it was just… it was done. Finished.
Let me ask you a little bit more about your process more generally. What’s the role of the guys in the band? You know, in the bluegrass world, at one extreme you’ve got the Jimmy Martin style of bandleader, which is, you know, “This is my sound, and this is how you’re gonna do it, and I will tell you what you need to do and show you what you need to do.” Then, on the other end, you’ve got somebody like Bill Monroe or J.D. Crowe, who says, “I brought you in to do your thing and let’s see how it fits together with everything else going on there.”
I very much lean towards the latter. I’ve got such amazing musicians that I’d be stupid not to listen to what they’ve got to say, you know? They’re so amazing and each one of them has their own strengths. So it’s a good mixture of like, I’m the band leader, kinda what I say goes, but I also take into consideration everything that the guys say. Sometimes I really need their advice and ask for it– like, for instance, most of the time I write the set list, but sometimes … I’ll go to the front lounge and say, “Hey, what do you guys wanna play tonight?” And then some ideas will come at me.
They’re there when I need them and they also don’t take anything personally when I say, “Hey, no.” It just depends, because sometimes it’s touchy when you write a song and somebody else wants to try to change it. But sometimes, if you hear them out, the idea that they come up with is way better. It just takes you a second to see what they’re talking about.
What you said about Crowe, bringing people in to do their thing, that’s really what I want. I don’t wanna be the dictator. I wanna be somebody who’s in a band. My whole life, my friends have been my family, especially when I was a teenager and started playing in bands. The word “band” means a lot to me. It means my brotherhood, you know, my closest friends and family.
That leads me to something that I don’t know if I’ve ever seen anybody else talk to you about this. You’re constantly bringing new material into the band – not originals, but older songs, old bluegrass songs. You’re always refreshing the repertoire. Are you just listening to old stuff all the time and hear something and say, “Man, that’s cool, let’s start doing that”? How does it work?
There’s a lot of songs in my head just from growing up playing bluegrass and we still haven’t scratched the surface of it. You know what I mean? Like, one night I’ll just be thinking of my dad in the old days, how we used to pick down around Barkus Park, and I get feeling sentimental or something and all of a sudden we’re gonna play “Letter Edged in Black” or whatever.
There’s just a whole well of tunes to pull from the bluegrass songbook and I like to mix it up. Like, if we did “Cumberland Gap” last time, then let’s do “Ground Speed” this time and if we did “Ground Speed” this time, next time let’s do “Clinch Mountain Backstep.” And then sometimes you play a tune and it feels good, so then it will stick around – like we’ve been playing “Baltimore Johnny.”
I guess having the guys in the band that you do helps, because a lot of them already know those tunes – or at least have some idea how they go, so you can work something up pretty quick.
Yeah, and they’re quick learners. Most of the time I wake up at the hotel and I’m stressing until I can write a set list, until it’s finished. Otherwise I can’t take a nap, because it’s a puzzle every day. There’s so many people that come to every single show of ours and we see the same people in the front row every night. I just don’t wanna feed them the same thing for dinner. I wanna mix it up.
Sometimes it takes two or three hours to make a set list. I’m doing it all on my iPad, so I’m not actually crumpling up paper and throwing it in the waste basket, but that’s what I’m doing. I’ll make a set list and I’ll go, “Oh, fuck that, that’s garbage.” And then eventually I’ll land on something that I feel is suitable or whatever. But it’s a puzzle every day. And then usually there will be a song or two on there– back in ’23, or maybe ’22, we played a new song every single show of the entire year. Every set that we played, we debuted a new cover. That was a task; once we got halfway through the year, it was like, “We gotta keep it going.”
So these days, it might not be every single show that we’re having to learn a new song, but we’re definitely having to refresh on things and arrangements and stuff. Every day before a gig, if we go out on stage at 8:00, then 6:45 or so we’re getting our instruments and sitting down and we’re starting to talk through some shit. Sometimes we’re learning these songs. And then sometimes we go out there and wing it. I like to be in that space, too. A lot of times, if we over rehearse things and think about it too much, somebody will fuck it up. But if we just get the basic idea down and go out there and somehow believe in ourselves, then we get through these songs.
Leaving the covers aside, I was reading a review of Highway Prayers and the guy who wrote it seemed almost baffled by the fact that it’s really a bluegrass album. And it is, from “Richard Petty” to the opening song that you wrote with Thomm [Jutz], to “Happy Hollow” and even “Leadfoot.” These are songs that, to me, are almost super-traditional in the forms that they use and the melodies.
Do you feel like your ear is kind of trained enough to feel comfortable with reusing folk materials, for lack of a better term? Like “Leadfoot” has this “Lonesome Reuben” kind of sound to it – but it’s not “Lonesome Reuben,” either. That’s gotta enter into your process a lot, I would think.
Not consciously. I grew up playing bluegrass and sometimes when I’m trying to write a song, that’s just how I think about it. When I first started writing, back when I was 16 years old, I would just rewrite “Riding That Midnight Train” or something. Not trying to, I would just write a song and then I would be like, “Oh, fuck, this is just ‘Riding That Midnight Train,’ it’s just the same melody. I can’t even call this my own song. But now, with a song, I show it to the band guys and they’ll say, “I don’t know, I think it’s your tune.”
I’m just trying to chase the idea, and not get in its way, and not let anything – especially from the outside world – into my brain to influence my direction. When I’m writing something good, it’s like I’m trying to write in my diary or something – or like I’m trying to write a bluegrass song that is [reflective] of my childhood and my love for the music. It’s that sentimental feeling that I get when I hear bluegrass music, that I love it so much, that it reminds me of my childhood. That before I knew anything dirty about the world, there was this love for bluegrass music and that’s the kind of music I wanna make.
I’m a bluegrass man. You know, we do all this other stuff, and I write other songs too, but at the core of it all is a bluegrass musician who was fed Doc Watson and Bill Monroe and Larry Sparks. So that’s the stuff that I like. I’m still listening to the Stanley Brothers all the time. I’ve listened to this shit my whole life and I still haven’t heard it all, you know?
You could do pretty much whatever you wanted, and yet you are still, at the core, playing bluegrass music.
What’s authentic? You know? I’m trying to not lose myself to this fucking big monster, you know what I mean? Because, yeah, I could get a drummer and pick up my electric guitar. I could put on a cowboy hat and join that whole bandwagon, too. But that’s not me and it’s not true. I don’t care about that shit. The more that I’m in this industry, the more that I’m just trying to stay true to myself and my music, because I see past all the bullshit and see past the glam of it. And I’m so grateful – so, so grateful – to have a fan base that will allow me to just wear a pair of blue jeans on stage and play three chords and the truth at them.
I feel like if I went and changed it up too much, then I might lose a bunch of those folks. And that’s hard, too, because sometimes I feel like we need a drummer. We’re in these giant arenas, it’s like, “Man, if I had a drummer and I could pick up the Les Paul, we could just fucking chop heads.” And I do enjoy that, too, because that is part of who I am. When I got out of playing bluegrass so much, when I was a kid, I played some electric and some Black Sabbath and shit – so there’s some of that in there.
But what I play is what’s in my heart, man. And that’s why I’m still playing Mac Wiseman songs, and there’s something – it’s almost like a freaking kink or something. I just love it so much. I love playing “It Rains Just the Same in Missouri” to a big crowd of people, or “I Wonder How the Old Folks Are at Home, or “The Baggage Coach Ahead,” or any of these old [songs].
You get out on the big arena stage like that and you play “Uncle Pen,” it’s like, “Fuck, yeah!” It’s kind of like just force-feeding these people bluegrass, and I love it, you know.
I feel like I’ve been living a cottagecore life since always. All my interests outside of music line up: I sew my own clothes, read old Russian literature, and I love horse riding, long forest walks, and filling my house with wild flowers and candles – and dreaming of picnics out of baskets, dressed in long skirts with ribbons in my hair and champagne in tea cups. My upcoming album, There Is No Ship, is a love letter to my homeland, [the UK], where a cottagecore lifestyle is a bit easier to achieve than here in LA. But, here’s a playlist with some songs that make me feel closer to it. – Rose Betts
“Do It Again” – John Mark Nelson
John Mark Nelson and I met at a session and as soon as we got to talking about books I realized he was a total keeper and we’ve been friends since. His vibe is so cottagecore. The man’s car smells like a pine forest and he bakes his own bread. I feel like his voice is so cozy and this song just feels like a day inside with the rain against the windows and pleasant feelings of being in love.
“Snow In Montana” – Michigander
My sister considers it illegal to listen to Christmas songs outside of December, but this has to be an exception. I love this song. On whatever side of Christmas I listen to it, it either makes me wistful about the one to come, or pleasantly melancholic about the one just passed. “Snow In Montana” makes anywhere feel cozy, which is quite a feat if you live in LA. I listen to it in the car on the way home from Trader Joe’s with bags full of vegetables and cheese and flowers feeling all stocked up and ready to light candles and get flower-arranging. I own so many small vases so that I can crowd my house out with flowers and make it feel like a garden.
“Deeper Well” – Kacey Musgraves
Her voice is so smooth and rich, I love it. And, her songs have this warmth and natural quality to them that I just want to sink into. Makes me want to rent a cabin in the woods with friends and get a campfire and hot cider going and watch the sparks fly up into the night.
“Wells” – Joshua Hyslop
I’ve been reading Anne of Green Gables lately and those books are so full of nature and the simple life, they make me really want to run away to Prince Edward Island, pick apples, and make jam. This song has that natural feel, like a little stream you sat by for a while and had a beautiful time, but all the while knew you couldn’t stay forever. Anne as a character is wonderfully joyful, but also so tragic, so the meeting of those two qualities felt expressed in this song somehow.
“Inconsolable” – Kate Gavin
A friend who knows me well sent me this song and I listened on loop for days. I love the instrumentation, that lovely fiddle part! One of my favorite things about being a musician is that when my musician friends come round they just start playing whatever instrument is in the house. The other week my friend came round and our hangout consisted of cups of tea, me sewing a top, and him going through my pile of sheet music on the piano. This song has that feeling of shared music… maybe it’s the harmonies or those lovely melodies, either way it reminds me of impromptu musical moments that are just so lovely.
“Bishops Avenue” – Rose Betts
For about a year and a half, some friends and I had the run of a mansion on Bishops Avenue in North London. We put on plays, painted out in the orchard, had renaissance parties and banquets in the ballroom, and it was one of those golden times when everything is just a little more precious and glittery. I feel like it’s how I always want to live, banquets by candlelight and then some creative frivolity of some kind. Moving to LA, it’s hard to find orchards and dilapidated mansions to play in, but I found some playfellows who get into the spirit with me so I get close.
“Tier Abhaile Riu” – Celtic Woman
This song has such a strong feminine energy to it, reminds me of all my creative friends who enrich my life so much. My friend and I hosted an evening where we invited just women to come and share stories and we lit candles and drank Champagne out of teacups and it was total bliss. Something about women together in candlelight talking feels ancient and holy and special in a way nothing else is.
“Skye Boat Song” – Bear McCreary, Raya Yarbrough
I’m lucky to have a twin who lives in Scotland, so I get to visit a lot and even lived there for a while in lockdown. It’s such an amazing part of the world. There is a beach near her village where I’d go for walks as often as I could, where the seals sing and the sky stretches out like a great pearl above your head. So much of songwriting is about finding the silence in the noise, so that the song has space to blossom and so many songs came from those walks. This song I’ve known since before I could remember hearing it, but it became more well known to the world when they used it as the title track for Outlander. This is a beautiful version. It sounds like Scotland to me, full of low skies and colossal lochs and mystery.
“The Author” – Luz
Some songs are so lovely they make me want to stop listening and write a song instead. This is one of those. I’ve started trying to write a poem every morning, just something small to start my day creatively. Then I punch a hole in the paper and hang it off some fairy lights I have around my bed. I think we are all the authors of our own life, which isn’t what this song is saying, but it’s so darn romantic and in its existence turns the singer into the author that tells the girl how she feels. If that makes sense…
“Sigh No More” – Joss Whedon
I heard this song in Joss Whedon’s Much Ado About Nothing and it takes a Shakespeare poem and sets it to music. I always really liked it. I have a little book of Shakespeare’s sonnets that I’ve carried around for years and I’m always trying to learn a new sonnet. If I’m bored at some LA party, I’ll get it out and read a sonnet and it puts me in a better mood.
“The Stars Look Down” – Rose Betts
This is off my first EP and I sound so young, which is kind of embarrassing, but also sweet. It’s like hearing a past version of me. I was reading a lot of Russian literature when I wrote this song and it was the mansion period of my life (which I mentioned before for “Bishops Avenue”). I’d just discovered Tolstoy, was reading War and Peace, and this song is full of the stories and vignettes in that book, heroism and love and dreaming and nights of glory followed by disastrous heartbreak. Books have always been where I get the most inspired for my songs, the quality of the writing makes me work harder at my lyrics.
“Mexico” – The Staves
The Staves are a group of sisters who actually come from a town right by the one I grew up in. It’s a place called Watford and is a bit of grey hole of a place. It’s surprising that these three beautiful singers came out of it. I guess music and beauty can come from anywhere, which is how I feel about my life. There’s beauty in everything, and if there isn’t you can bring it. My little apartment in LA is pretty boxy and lightless, but once you add candles and art and music it’s suddenly a little bohemian enclave where I can rest and be creative. Me and family sing together and there’s nothing like families harmonising, which is why I chose this song. Reminds me of the supper table at my childhood home, where we sing before we eat and sometimes after too, and whatever argument or trouble that’s going on disappears for a moment.
BGS and Good Country are so excited to continue our one-of-a-kind, brand new variety show, The Good Country Goodtime, at premier Los Angeles venue Dynasty Typewriter on December 1 at 7:30pm! The second edition of the event – which features the best in country, Americana, and roots music, a first-rate house band, delightful comedy, and more – will be a whimsical walk through a western winter wonderland. In-person and livestream tickets are on sale now.
Confirmed guests for the December 1 show include Jonny Fritz, purveyor and proprietor of “dad country;” the delightful Old School countrypolitan sounds of California native Kimmi Bitter; plus indie/country singer-songwriter Rett Madison, who just released her latest album, One More for Jackie; and, attendees will enjoy stories, laughs, and more from comedian and Tennessee’s own Billy Wayne Davis – who will serve as the evening’s host. The Coral Reefers’ Mick Utley will return to direct the Goodtime’s all-star house band. And, you never know which Hollywood writers, actors, and improvisers and special guests may just show up to join in the fun.
Not able to attend in person? Grab a livestream ticket, or, just hold on – our Good Country Goodtime shows are recorded by Dynasty Typewriter’s multi-camera, multi-media content capture team and we will be sharing performances, sketches, and songs from the Goodtime right here, on BGS and Good Country, in the near future. Stay tuned!
We hope you’ll join us for the December 1 edition of the Good Country Goodtime, the show’s last hurrah of 2024 – before we continue with regular monthly shows in 2025! Attendees will enjoy songs, stories, sketches, and so many surprises in store. Pull on your boots and get ready for our western winter wonderland.
Artist:Lily Kershaw Hometown: Los Angeles, California Latest Album:Pain & More Personal Nicknames (or rejected band names): My family calls me Lou or Lulu
What was the first moment that you knew you wanted to be a musician?
Hearing Simon & Garfunkel’s “The Sound of Silence” for the first time. I was 8, in the back seat of my parents car, and the world just stopped. I wanted to write like them.
What’s the toughest time you ever had writing a song?
The toughest time I’ve ever had writing a song was on a song of mine called “Depreshmode.” I initially wrote it in less than 30 minutes, but it ended up taking me 18 hours (I tallied!) to get it into its final shape. About halfway through those 18 hours I thought something inside me had broken. I was like, “Am I ever going to write again?” I did, of course, write again and I am super happy with and proud of the final shape of “Depreshmode.”
What has been the best advice you’ve received in your career so far?
Just finish the song. You can always go back and edit. You can go back and edit for 18 hours if you want, but you can’t edit something that doesn’t exist. So just finish it.
Does pineapple really belong on pizza?
Yes, but not with ham. If you’re going to add pineapple to pizza, let it be the only topping. Now I want pizza!
What is a genre, album, artist, musician, or song that you adore that would surprise people?
I really love the song “Mary On A Cross” by Ghost. It was my most-played song a couple years ago. I was also surprised to find this out! I kind of think of it as rock opera, but the internet has called their music things like black metal and doom metal. I think most people, myself included, would be surprised to know how much I love it!
The team behind BGS and Good Country are thrilled to announce a brand new variety show, The Good Country Goodtime. Showcasing an expertly-curated monthly lineup of country and roots music, songwriting, comedy, and a rotating cast of star hosts grounded by an all-star house band, the premiere event will be held at Dynasty Typewriter in Los Angeles on September 29 at 7:30pm. Tickets are on sale now.
The inaugural edition of the new west coast home for the modern country scene will be lead by our very first guest host, the legendary Robbie Fulks, and will feature performances by “garage country” rocker Aubrie Sellers and honky-tonkin’ LA singer-songwriter Victoria Bailey. Performances and special collaborations by all of our Goodtime artists will be punctuated by dancing and fun, comedy and hijinx – including top secret surprise appearances from Hollywood’s hottest comedians and actors. Meanwhile, The Coral Reefers’ Mick Utley will helm the show’s all-star backing band.
“Everyone’s welcome at the Good Country Goodtime,” says Greg Hess, comedy writer and BGS contributor who authors the hit satirical column, The Resonator. Hess is one of the creatives behind the show’s concept, alongside BGS/GC executive director and co-founder, Amy Reitnouer Jacobs. “Celebrating the long-established intersection of comedy and country music,” Hess continued, “The Goodtime nods to the Grand Ole Opry and Hee Haw – plus a dash of Muppet Show mischief. This one-of-a-kind showcase brings together top-notch performers for a night of pure entertainment and Good Country.”
Dynasty Typewriter, which opened in 2018, is a perfect home for the variety show. Billed as “LA’s comedy clubhouse,” the venue is one of LA’s premier destinations for highly-curated entertainment, including comedy, music, live podcasts, screenings, and immersive experiences.
The Good Country Goodtime will continue with one additional 2024 show (date TBA), before kicking off regular monthly shows in 2025. Attendees will enjoy songs, stories, sketches, and so many surprises in store. Buy your tickets now for the debut of the Good Country Goodtime. 7:30pm, September 29, 2024 at Dynasty Typewriter in Los Angeles, California.
It’s our first New Music Friday of August! This week, we’ve got an excellent handful of tracks you simply gotta hear. First, there’s Paula Fong with a “zippy little tune” that’s delightfully old school country. Plus, Danny Roberts brings us a ramblin’ bluegrass track, “The Drifter,” which pays homage both to David “Dawg” Grisman and Roberts’ late brother-in-law, Mike Mullins.
Our penultimate premiere is the title track for Americana duo – and 2024 AmericanaFest Official Showcase artist – A Tale of Two’s upcoming album, Renegade. To finish us off, the impeccable and mystifying guitarist Yasmin Williams calls on indie folk favs Darlingside for “Virga,” a swirling song from her just-announced upcoming album, Acadia.
Listen below, ’cause You Gotta Hear This!
Paula Fong, “A House Is Not A Home”
Artist:Paula Fong Hometown: Los Angeles, California Song: “A House Is Not A Home” Album:Chestnut Mare Release Date: September 6, 2024
In Their Words: “This is hands down the fastest I’ve ever written a song. It took me around 15 minutes to write it top to bottom – chords and lyrics – and felt like it just flew out of my head onto the page. I often write about fairly heavy subjects, but in this case I thought I’d just try out a zippy little tune that puts a smile in your heart and makes you want to tap your feet. I often get compliments that it sounds like an effortlessly classic old country tune.
“When I was in my early 20’s I moved from Los Angeles to North Carolina for a time to work at an outdoor Montessori/Quaker farm school that was located in the foothills of the Appalachian Mountains. Life there was full and busy, but in a different way from LA. Many things were clearer, more simple, more joyful in a way. I feel like this song captures one facet of the simplicity of that time (and some specific NC references – traveling across the mountains, chickens in the garden). Generally speaking, I think love is hardly simple, but there are certainly moments that can feel as easy and carefree as this song.” – Paula Fong
Danny Roberts, “The Drifter”
Artist:Danny Roberts Hometown: Nashville, Tennessee Song: “The Drifter” Release Date: August 2, 2024 Label: Mountain Home Music Company
In Their Words: “When I started writing ‘The Drifter,’ I was inspired to compose something to pay tribute to one of my all-time favorite mandolin players, David Grisman. I feel like this song has that vibe, though nobody can play that style like Dawg. The song title is in honor of my late brother-in-law, Mike Mullins, who wrote a book called The Drifter before he passed away; that title just seemed to fit this song. ‘The Drifter’ was so much fun to record, and it’s always great to have my wife Andrea playing bass with me and the solos that Tony Wray (banjo and guitar) and Jimmy Mattingly (fiddle) played on it are magical. I’m blessed to have such great musicians helping me bring my music to life!” – Danny Roberts
Track Credits: Danny Roberts – Mandolin Andrea Roberts – Bass Tony Wray – Acoustic guitar, banjo Jimmy Mattingly – Fiddle
A Tale of Two, “Renegade”
Artist name:A Tale Of Two Hometown: Nashville, Tennessee Song: “Renegade” Album:Renegade Release Date: October 4, 2024
In Their Words: “‘Renegade’ is a fitting title for both the record and this song. It represents a shift, a changing of the tide. Our aim is to embody an identity that defies the norms of Nashville. Drawing inspiration from fragments of a previously unreleased track, “Renegade” continues the next chapter of our story, infused with the spirit of the Appalachian terrain we know so well.” – A Tale of Two
Track Credits: Aaron Lessard – Guitar and vocals Stephanie Adlington – Vocals Ross McReynolds – Percussion Elizabeth Estes – Fiddle Jon Estes – Bass
Yasmin Williams, “Virga”
Artist:Yasmin Williams Hometown: Woodbridge, Virginia Song: “Virga” Album:Acadia Release Date: October 4, 2024 Label: Nonesuch Records
In Their Words: “A virga occurs when trails of rainfall from a cloud evaporate before they reach the ground. While virga can be beautiful to look at, it can also cause extreme turbulence for aircrafts. I related this phenomenon to how I feel about participating in the music industry. While it’s so fulfilling to create music that I’m proud of and to be able to travel around the world, the industry itself is dangerous to be a part of and doesn’t always value art or artists.
“Instead, the music industry values metrics and other things that are related to business, not art, forcing most artists to think about hitting their next business target instead of putting their energy into their music. I often feel overwhelmed with all of the expectations that the music business puts on artists and the constant need to move on to the next goal post instead of being able to reflect on, and be grateful for, the things I’ve already achieved.
“While writing ‘Virga,’ I realized that it’s totally fine to feel suspended in time, with my career goals, hopes, and dreams suspended in the atmosphere of an environment I have no control over… and I eventually learned how to thrive “in Virga,” through both the beautiful times and the turbulent ones.” – Yasmin Williams
Track Credits: Darlingside – Vocals Rich Ruth – Synth, Yasmin Williams – Harp guitar Jeff Gruber – Recording engineer Mixed by Ken Lewis at thATMOS Studios.
Photo Credit: Yasmin Williams by Ebru Yildiz; Danny Roberts by Sandlin Gaither.
Artist:JEMS Hometown: Los Angeles, California Latest Album:Back Around Personal nicknames (or rejected band names): Wild Valley Dream Weavers, lots of others!
Which artist has influenced you the most – and how?
I grew up with Joni Mitchell. For every season of life, her music feels like the soundtrack. I find myself returning to songs and finding new meanings as my scope continues to broaden and deepen. Her voice is unapologetically her own and I am so inspired by her journey. – Emily
What was the first moment that you knew you wanted to be a musician?
When my dad played me the song “Eleanor Rigby” I had a major lightbulb moment. I don’t think I had realized how powerful music as storytelling was until then. I must’ve been 8 or 9 and my imagination burst wide open. – Jess
Probably when I started playing the songs I was writing as a kid for my Dad. He was both kind and critical in ways that confirmed that I wanted to work on and share my songs with not just him, but everyone. – Sarah Margaret
Genre is dead (long live genre!), but how would you describe the genres and styles your music inhabits?
We each have distinct vocal timbres and have been influenced by the genres we grew up listening to, from jazz and soul to indie rock to classical and film scores to folk and Americana. That diversity adds a richness to our blend and has influenced how we approach melody, harmony, and storytelling. As a trio, we live in the folk world, but lean into many other lanes depending on the instrumentation and production of each song.
If you didn’t work in music, what would you do instead?
I’d be a hairdresser. I cut and color hair for fun/therapy and I truly love it. Although I don’t know if I’d love it as much if I had to do it… – Jess
I’d be a private chef. I love going to farmer’s markets, learning from local farmers and artisans, and expressing myself through food. Maybe it’s the French in me! – Emily
A marine biologist, or boat captain, or something that lets me be in and around the ocean all the time. – Sarah Margaret
If you were a color, what shade would you be – and why?
Gold! I’d don’t know why, but I’ve just always felt like the sunshine. – Jess
Olive green. I’d like to be as warm, relaxing, and grounded as that color! – Sarah Margaret
If you’re looking for recommendations for desserts, might I suggest asking folk music and comedy savant Steve Poltz? This man loves gluten and carb-heavy sweets. He also loves collaborations, camaraderie, creativity and using humor in music. It all began for Poltz – or Poltzy as his friends call him – in his birthplace of Halifax, Nova Scotia, making him an official Canadian. He spent his formative years in Palm Springs and Los Angeles where due to his stutter, allergies, and asthma, he learned to talk fast to get himself out of trouble. His sense of humor was cultivated in part by his funny parents as well as radio and television. He was particularly taken with The Smothers Brothers, Laugh-In, and the novelty songs he heard on Dr. Demento’s radio program, which solidified his own aspirations for being silly as hell in his own writing. Along the way, he picked up the guitar at six years old and it’s been by his side ever since.
After he moved to San Diego to attend college in the ’80s, he formed the cow-punk band The Rugburns with Robert Driscoll. The group, which Steve has described as “really slow speed metal,” developed a cult following across the U.S. in the early ’90s. It was at that time when Poltz met Jewel, who was a struggling musician in the San Diego scene. The two dated (they remain friends to this day) and ended up co-writing one of the biggest songs of the ’90s with “You Were Meant For Me.” After a brush with a major label (thanks to all the Jewel stuff), he remained an independent artist who developed a reputation for a singular live performance experience.
In 2014, he actually had a stroke onstage, which temporarily caused him to lose his vision, his ability to read, and also gave him a new outlook on life. Also: post-stroke, he found a late-in-life obsession with the Grateful Dead. In 2016 he and his wife, Sharon, moved to Nashville, where he discovered that he actually does like the Nashville co-writing thing. He’s written songs with people like Molly Tuttle and Billy Strings. His friend Oliver Wood (The Wood Brothers) produced his most recent record, Stardust and Satellites. Here’s to Steve Poltz!
Artist:The Doohickeys Hometown: Los Angeles, California Song: “Rein It In Cowboy” Album:All Hat No Cattle Release Date: January 24, 2025 Label: Forty Below Records
In Their Words: “We wrote ‘Rein It In Cowboy’ after Haley got her butt grabbed in a bar… He copped a feel and we copped a song. The unsettling vibe you get from a creepy guy groping you is eerily similar to the feeling zombies evoke, which is why our video draws inspiration from our love of classic zombie films like Night of the Living Dead and Dawn of the Dead. We had a blast coming up with t-shirt pick-up lines and other visual jokes throughout the video. With the help of our friends, we crafted a visual narrative we’re truly proud of and can stand behind (and grab).” – Jack Hackett, The Doohickeys
Track Credits: Produced and Engineered by Eric Corne. Eugene Edwards – Lead guitar Hayley Orrantia – Back-up vocals Haley Brown – Vocals Jack Hackett – Rhythm guitar Adam Arcos – Bass Aubrey Richmond – Fiddle Jordan Bush – Pedal steel Matt Tecu – Drums
Video Credits: Chris Beyrooty – Director, producer Jack Hackett – Director, producer Louise Sylvester – Producer Haley Brown – Producer Michael Greenwood – Director of Photography
Photo Credit: Jesse DeFlorio
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