Tag: Lydia Loveless

‘Exploding Trees & Airplane Screams’ – Patterson Hood Returns with Stellar Solo Album

Posted on by Justin Hiltner

Most people know Patterson Hood as the frontman (really one of two frontmen) for the long-running rock band Drive-By Truckers. Had they come up in the 1970s instead of the ‘90s, the Truckers would have been mentioned in the same breath as bands like Lynyrd Skynyrd and The Allman Brothers Band. Led by Hood and fellow singer-guitarist Mike Cooley, they play kickass Southern rock — but the caveat is that this is intelligent kickass Southern rock. And much of the band’s sensibility is informed by Hood’s unique youth. He grew up in Alabama, but was raised by liberal parents (his dad is legendary Muscle Shoals bassist David Hood). As Patterson says, “Dualities have always been an obsession of mine and to some extent [of] the band itself.”

Over the years, Hood has also kept a solo career going on the side. But his new album, Exploding Trees & Airplane Screams, is unique for a couple of reasons. For one thing, it’s his first solo record in 12 years. For another, it’s a somewhat different beast, musically, from most of his albums – both with and without the Truckers. There’s considerably less guitar-based rock and roll, and other instruments, such as piano and even woodwinds, have been pushed more to the fore.

This is still very much a Patterson Hood disc. You can’t miss his distinct, gravelly vocals. His storytelling – often stories of what it was like to come of age in 1970s Alabama – retains a sharp eye for detail and the aforementioned dualities. There’s a lot of pathos in Hood’s writing, but there’s always some humor as well. Exploding Trees features appearances from the Truckers’ Brad Morgan and Jay Gonzalez (on drums and keyboards, respectively), not to mention Lydia Loveless (on the heartbreaking “A Werewolf and a Girl”), Steve Berlin, and producer Chris Funk, among others.

Good Country recently had the pleasure of catching up with Patterson Hood.

You’ve been very prolific with the Truckers, but Exploding Trees & Airplane Screams is your first solo album in more than a decade. Why a solo album now?

Patterson Hood: That’s a great question. The reason, I guess, is that I’ve been super busy with the band. The Truckers have been in a really good place for over a decade now. So I wasn’t particularly eager to do a side project just for the sake of doin’ one.

But [with] every album, there’s always a couple of songs that somehow get lost in the shuffle. Particularly after the record comes out – they turn out to be great tracks on the record, but they never get played live. So they are kind of forgotten songs that I care a lot about. I kind of started a file some years back for those songs. It’s not that the band can’t play them; the band played the shit out of ‘em. [It’s] more just the way our shows are, the flow of the show, the rooms we play. You know, the emphasis live often gets put on a certain level of rock, for lack of a better way of puttin’ it. There are songs that might be a little more introverted. So I’ve had a stack of those songs that were sitting there.

And I also, about 10 years ago, became friends with [producer] Chris Funk. We would play together from time to time, usually in the Northwest, because we both live in Portland. We had this cool chemistry. So for a long time, we’ve been talking about making a record together. And during the lockdown – when I was stuck and couldn’t go anywhere or do anything – I spent a lotta time up in my music room. I wasn’t really able to write a lot during lockdown, because my brain was just not functioning very well. I was very depressed. It didn’t make for good songs. But I could go back and go through song fragments and hone in on things. I could really edit like crazy! So I spent a lotta time working on those songs – instead of thinking in terms of what I would do in a rock band format, what I would do in not a rock band format. You know, like “I could hear woodwinds on this song!” Things like that.

We cut it pretty quick. But I spent a long time working on it before we recorded it, you know? Including Funk telling me a few months before we went in, “I hope you’re practicing that piano, because I want you to play it on the record.” I’m like, “No, that wasn’t the plan. The plan was to have someone who can actually play the damn thing!” I’m thankful, because if he hadn’t kicked my ass, I probably wouldn’t have played piano, to be honest. It forced me out of my comfort zone, which I think was as much the point as anything for him. I think he wanted to keep me in a state of perpetual terror! [Laughs]

I had been wondering if that was you playing most of the piano, whether it was Jay Gonzalez or someone else?

I played a lot of it. I mean, I’m not playing all of it; Jay’s definitely playin’ on it. And I think Funk and I both play piano on one song. Funk played a lotta synthesizers. Jay’s playing some old vintage weirdo keyboards that have names that I can’t even remember. Phil Cook played that organ part on “The Forks of Cypress” too. But as far as the songs that seem to be built around a simple piano part – that tends to be me. That’s what I play: simple piano parts! [Laughs] I’m not Randy Newman.

Can I ask you about a few of the specific tracks? I understand that “Exploding Trees” was based on an actual event.

Yeah. It was kind of like a meteorological phenomenon, I guess. It was in my hometown in February of 1994. It was right before my 30th birthday [and] right before I moved to Athens, Georgia. The weather had been warm and it rained a lot for a couple of weeks. It just rained and rained, you know? Borderline flood conditions. There’s a lot of pine trees, particularly in my home area. And they all got completely waterlogged by all the rain and with the warm temperatures.

Then there was this sudden freeze; the temperature dropped like 40 degrees in a couple of hours. And all the water in those trees froze. Particularly those pine trees – I guess they splinter easier anyway. The trees basically exploded all over town, kind of at the same time. Thousands of fucking trees! I mean, flattening cars, buildings, people. It was really awful. … And I had been out of town. I had ironically visited Athens a couple of nights before for the very first time – which directly led to me living there shortly after. I was driving back home as it happened; I basically drove right into the middle of it. I was trying to get to my grandmother’s house to check on her. I got to the house and there were, like, pieces of trees that had gone through the roof. And I couldn’t find her anywhere. [It turns out] she was fine. She was at a neighbor’s house.

I love the line “beauty queens in hospital gowns.”

Right. Well, one of the worst injuries of this storm was a girl I knew. I worked at a restaurant with her. She had just won Miss UNA, the beauty pageant, and was like two weeks away from going to compete for Miss Alabama. Lovely, lovely young woman. Very sweet – super Christian. And an oak tree fell on her car, with her in it. And it knocked her head down into her body cavity. It completely pulverized her neck and back – but she lived! She’s a quadriplegic [now, but] that accident led to [that line].

Oh God. That’s awful.

It feels like there’s a theme on a few songs of reckoning – coming to terms with past events, maybe.

Sure. Or trying to make sense of things. “Miss Coldiron’s Oldsmobile” – I was too young when that was happening to really wrap my head around what all of that meant. But as an adult, you can go, “Okay. She was being gaslighted, you know?” Every time she would ask for money, she’d get reminded of the mental hospital she had spent some time in. Things like that. It was pretty fucking insidious.

“The Van Pelt Parties” – you know, that was some of my first experiences with drinking and how adults partied. I was a little kid, sneaking booze from the punchbowl. I was the only kid at the party and we would go every year. And the older I got, the drunker I got. And the grownups were too drunk to notice! [Laughs]

Was Van Pelt a part of Alabama?

They were a family. He was a college professor, she was a schoolteacher. Their daughter was a painter who had been my babysitter. And my parents were right in the middle of their ages – kind of ended up becoming friends with all of them, with the daughter and the parents. So they were a big presence in my life growing up. You know, I loved ‘em. Their daughter, who’d been my babysitter, taught me a lot of cool stuff. She turned me on to some cool music. I actually have a painting she made after tripping on acid at a Doobie Brothers concert!

Maybe it was because we were young, but I think the ’70s had a much cooler vibe than the present.

Well, about anything’s better than [now]. I hate saying this so bad because I’m not prone to romanticizing the past; I’ve always rebelled against glory days. But right now sucks! The level of fucking misinformation and just the insanity right now is so insidious. It’s hard right now not to feel a certain amount of nostalgia for any time in the past.

You and Mike Cooley have been playing together for almost 40 years or more. And other members of the Truckers have come and gone. But the drummer, Brad Morgan, has been with you guys forever and we don’t hear a lot about him. Tell me a little about Brad and what he brings to the band.

The band wouldn’t exist without Brad. Brad was the glue that kept all this crazy shit together all these years. You know, he’s that guy that’s really even-keeled. And he brought that to the table at times when the band was far too tumultuous and emotional for our own good. We call him Easy B. There’s a golden rule in the band and that’s “Don’t piss off Easy B!” Because if you’re fucking up enough to where Easy B gets mad at you, you are fucking up! And you don’t want the phone call from Easy B! He doesn’t get mad often so if he’s mad, there’s a good reason for it and you better take heed. He’s also a colossal drummer. He so often takes such a subtle approach to things that people don’t realize what a bad-ass drummer he is.

I know you have some solo dates lined up. What can people look forward to when you’re touring with this album? I assume it’ll be a little different than a Truckers show?

Yeah! Very different. But at the same time, it’s the same universe. [Lydia Loveless] is in the band that’s touring this record. She’s gonna open the show and she’s gonna play bass and sing harmonies in my band.

I think anyone who’s into the Truckers – if they can tolerate my voice, they’ll probably like this too. [Laughs] If you’re there for the big frontal assault and guitars and sweat and spit that comes with a Truckers show, it’s very different. Although I’m not ruling out those things happening, too. But it’s a quieter show. It’s gonna be built around these songs, with some other stuff that stylistically or thematically works with this. And it’s cool.

Photo Credit: Jason Thrasher

BGS Wraps: Lydia Loveless, “Merry Christmas”

Posted on by Editor

Artist: Lydia Loveless
Single: “Merry Christmas”

In Their Words: “I wanted to try my hand at a holiday song. Every year I intend to write one and give up. This year, the only thing I feel like I have any control over is my creativity — so it seemed like now or never. One of the things I have missed most is making music with others, so I asked my bandmates George (Hondroulis) and Todd (May) to add to it. It was a little spark of joy in a super bummer season.” — Lydia Loveless

Editor’s Note: “Merry Christmas” is available exclusively via Bandcamp, with all profits benefiting Mid-Ohio Food Bank.

Enjoy more BGS Wraps here.

BGS Class of 2020: The Albums and Songs That Inspired Us This Year

Posted on by Justin Hiltner

At BGS, we seek out roots music from all corners — for those readers encountering us for the first time, we’re not “just bluegrass.” With our annual year-end list, we’ve shaken off the “best of” title and instead gathered 20 recordings that inspired our staff and contributors. For many reasons (but especially the long-awaited return of live music and festivals), we look ahead to 2021, but first… here are the albums and songs that inspired us in 2020.

Courtney Marie Andrews – Old Flowers

Courtney Marie Andrews couldn’t touch my heart deeper. Her music has been the healing salve for the wounds of 2020. To me, she’s the true definition of an artist: A songwriter, a musician, a painter, a writer, a singer, a poet, an activist. My favorite song on her magical 2020 album is “Old Flowers.” It’s the perfect metaphor of resilience and rebirth after suffering, both in love and in life. Becoming whole again. If that ain’t a theme we could all grow from this year, I don’t know what is! – Beth Behrs

Anjimile – “Maker (Acoustic)”

Anjimile’s Giver Taker was the album I can’t stop (and won’t stop) telling people about in 2020. The full version of their single, “Maker” was a beautiful amalgamation of cultures and influences synthesized by an artist not constrained by cultural and creative preconceptions. To me, Anjimile’s acoustic version of the lead single distills the brilliance of their songwriting into its purest form. – Amy Reitnouer Jacobs

Danny Barnes – Man on Fire

Danny Barnes’ Man on Fire was a worthwhile gift to us all this year. Over the last couple of years, I’d heard chatter of a project in the works with names like Dave Matthews, John Paul Jones, and Bill Frisell involved. I am constantly in awe of what Barnes can create using the banjo as a pencil. This record was no exception, combining his unique style and songwriting with an electrified crew. – Thomas Cassell

Bonny Light Horseman – “The Roving”

There’s an odd bit of sorcery in the first measures of “The Roving,” a new version of an old folk tune on this supergroup’s debut. It opens tentatively, the instruments falling into the song like autumn leaves: First an acoustic guitar, then cymbals, then piano, all coalescing into a windblown arrangement that’s both understated and sublime. – Stephen Deusner

Bob Dylan – Rough and Rowdy Ways

Packed with jumbles of historic/cultural references and tall tales, bluesy swagger and prayerful romance, and climaxing with the shattered-mirror JFK assassination epic “Murder Most Foul,” Dylan’s first set of originals in a decade is breathtakingly masterful. It’s also, often, hilarious. Nearing 80, the Bard’s as playful as ever. And as poignant. And, justifiably, as cocky. – Steve Hochman

To me, Bob Dylan’s best era started in 1989 with his 26th studio album, Oh Mercy, and continues to this day with his 39th, Rough and Rowdy Ways. “Murder Most Foul” shows us that the master of his generation is as much in control of his folktale troubadour craft as he’s ever been. – Chris Jacobs

Justin Farren – Pretty Free

Knowing nothing about Justin Farren, I was immediately sucked into his evocatively detailed story-songs that involved returning diapers to Costco, getting a “two-paycheck ticket” while trying to impress a girl, and (in the all-too-appropriately-titled for-2020, “Last Year Was The Best Year”) a wild Disneyland adventure. Full of humor, sorrow, regrets and hope, Pretty Free was a musical world I visited often this year. – Michael Berick

Mickey Guyton – “Black Like Me”

Mickey Guyton’s lyrics illuminate the individuality and dilemma of any non-white vocalist in country music, and in particular the difficult journey of Black women in the field. Her performance is gripping and memorable, paying homage to many others who’ve faced ridicule and questions about why they’re daring to perform in an idiom many still feel isn’t suited for their musical style. – Ron Wynn

Sarah Jarosz – “Pay It No Mind”

Atop a Fleetwood Mac-style groove, Sarah Jarosz imagines the advice a distant bird might offer. But her songbird is no sweet, shallow lover. She comes with the weight and wisdom of something more timeless. Jarosz lets her fly via mandolin-fiddle interplay that personifies the tension between the endless sky and the “world on the ground.” – Kim Ruehl

Lydia Loveless – Daughter

“I’m not a liberated woman,” Lydia Loveless declares on her fifth album, “just a country bumpkin dilettante.” Don’t you believe it. Written in the shadow of her 2016 divorce and beautifully sung in a voice both epic and straightforward, Daughter finds this Americana siren at the height of her formidable powers. – David Menconi

Lori McKenna – The Balladeer

Lori McKenna‘s singular talent for capturing the joy in everyday details is on full display, from the church parking lots and hometown haunts of “This Town Is a Woman” to the stubborn tiffs and make-up kisses on “Good Fight.” But The Balladeer acknowledges the hard-as-hell times, too. With gentle accompaniment, commanding melodies, and McKenna’s signature lyrical wit, The Balladeer showcases a modern songwriting master. – Dacey Orr Sivewright

Jeff Picker – With the Bass in Mind

I love “new acoustic music,” but am often afraid I’ll be disappointed by it. Jeff Picker’s With the Bass in Mind immediately eases those worries by offering music that is creative, thoughtful, unexpected, and virtuosic while still feeling grounded and musical. All while effortlessly answering the once-rhetorical question: “What would a solo bluegrass bass album even sound like?” – Tristan Scroggins

William Prince – Reliever

William Prince‘s Reliever feels like the best pep talk I’ve ever had. In particular, “The Spark” finds him astonished with loving a partner who loves him back, no matter his own perceived flaws. As a whole, the album explores complicated emotions with a comforting arrangement (with duties shared by Dave Cobb and Scott Nolan). Sung with assurance by Prince, almost like he’s confiding in you, Reliever is both encouraging and excellent. – Craig Shelburne

Scott Prouty – Shaking Down the Acorns

We’d be remiss in our jobs as procurers of roots music culture to not include this stoically beautiful record on our year-end list of the very best. A hearty collection of 24 (mostly solo) old-time fiddle and banjo songs, there is something ever-present, comforting, and timeless about Prouty’s playing, and I have no doubt this is a record I’ll be revisiting like an old friend for years to come. – Amy Reitnouer Jacobs

Emily Rockarts – Little Flower

Montreal-based songwriter Emily Rockarts’ debut album Little Flower is one to remember. Produced by Franky Rousseau (Goat Rodeo Sessions), the album features lilting cinematic ballads punctuated with dance-in-your-room indie anthems. Rockarts’ musicianship is undeniable; her stunning melodies and refreshingly earnest lyrics make for a remarkable combination that is unlike anything else I’ve heard. Run, listen to Little Flower now! – Kaia Kater

Sarah Siskind – Modern Appalachia

Sarah Siskind brought her luminous, Nashville-honed songwriting back home to North Carolina a few years ago and let the mountains speak through her. Leading an all-star Asheville band live off the floor at iconic Echo Mountain studio, she’s made a heart-swelling set of songs that gather her special melodic signature, her meticulous craft, and her insight into how a rich musical region is evolving. – Craig Havighurst

Emma Swift – Blonde on the Tracks

Emma Swift reminded the music world of the power that artists have to control their work when she self-released Blonde on the Tracks, an eight-song collection of Bob Dylan covers. Her interpretations are as powerful and innovative as her methodical and thoughtful initial distribution sans streaming services. – Erin McAnally

Julian Taylor – The Ridge

Mohawk singer-songwriter Julian Taylor resides in what is now referred to as Toronto, but his masterful country-folk record, The Ridge, hits your ear as if plucked directly from Taylor’s childhood summers spent on his grandparents’ farm in rural British Columbia. Refracted through Taylor’s crisp, modern arrangements and undiluted emotion, The Ridge seamlessly bridges the elephant-in-the-2020-room chasm between rural and urban — musically, familially, lyrically, and spiritually. – Justin Hiltner

Molly Tuttle, “Standing on the Moon”

2020 has handed us its fair share of cover albums, with stay-at-home orders urging many to reach for the familiar — but none have meshed a variety of musical sources so creatively as Molly Tuttle’s whimsical …but i’d rather be with you. Her version of “Standing on the Moon” is the nostalgic and homesick, Earth-loving galactic trip of my pedal steel-obsessed, Deadhead dreams. – Shelby Williamson

Cory Wong – Trail Songs (Dawn)

A record that I didn’t know I needed came in early August when Vulfpeck guitarist Cory Wong released Trail Songs (Dawn). A change of pace for Wong, it features predominantly acoustic instrumentation and organic sounds. The album kicks off with “Trailhead,” which sounds like a Dan Crary instrumental until the groove drops in the second verse. BGS standbys Chris Thile and Sierra Hull make appearances as an added bonus. – Jonny Therrien

Donovan Woods – “Seeing Other People”

We may seem unsentimental, stoic, unemotional — especially when faced with something like a partner moving on, or a breakup, when it may be easier to seem fine, have a pint, and download Tinder. Donovan’s gift in this song is to show those complicated “yes, and” internal thoughts and emotions. It is beautiful. – Tom Power

BGS & #ComeHearNC Celebrate the Cultural Legacy of North Carolina during #NCMusicMonth

Posted on by Editor

On the national music scene, North Carolina sets itself apart by blending the heritage of traditional roots music with the innovation of modern indie and Americana sounds. The bluegrass canon of North Carolina encompasses pioneers like Charlie Poole and Earl Scruggs, as well as groundbreaking musicians like Elizabeth Cotten, Alice Gerrard, and Doc Watson. Today’s spectrum of talent spans from modern favorites such as Darin & Brooke Aldridge, Balsam Range, and Steep Canyon Rangers, and the progressive perspective of the Avett Brothers, Rhiannon Giddens, Mandolin Orange, Hiss Golden Messenger, Mipso, and many more.

One example of how the state is merging past with present is the recent opening of North Carolina’s only vinyl pressing plant — Citizen Vinyl in Asheville.

 

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Built over 15 months in 1938-1939, The Asheville Citizen Times Building (@citizentimes) was designed by architect Anthony Lord as the grand center for the city’s two newspapers and radio station WWNC. Located at 14 O’Henry Avenue, the massive three-story building of reinforced concrete, granite and limestone, utilizing 20,000 glass bricks, is considered Asheville’s finest example of Art Moderne design. In 2019, Citizen Vinyl claimed the first floor & mezzanine of this iconic landmark as the future home of a vinyl record pressing plant, as well as a café, bar and record store – and is reviving the historic third floor radio station as a modern recording and post-production facility.

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According to press materials, the building’s third floor played host to Asheville’s historic WWNC (“Wonderful Western North Carolina”) which was once considered the most popular radio station in the United States. In 1927, the station hosted live performances by Jimmie Rodgers and made his first recordings shortly before he went to Bristol, Tennessee.  In 1939, the station featured  the first ever live performance by Bill Monroe and the Bluegrass Boys during its Mountain Music Time segment.  Citizen Vinyl expects to keep the live music tradition alive in this former newspaper building, too.

Here at BGS, we’ve been committed to North Carolina music from our launch, notably with our Merlefest Late Night Jams, which are always worth staying up for. And how much do we love the IBMA World of Bluegrass week in Raleigh? Looking back on our archive, we gathered these songs from the artists we’ve covered over the years — and looking ahead, you’ll see all-new interviews with the Avett Brothers and Mipso, examine the classic country stars with roots in North Carolina, and spotlight some rising talent with video performances at the state’s most scenic destinations.

In the meantime, you can discover more about the North Carolina music scene through their website and on Instagram at @comehearnc

Editor’s note: This content brought to you in part by our partners at Crossroads Label Group.

Lydia Loveless Gives Her Songs More Space, Sarcasm on Self-Issued ‘Daughter’

Posted on by Editor

Lydia Loveless wrote her fifth studio album, Daughter, after a self-confessed period of personal upheaval. The dissolution of a marriage and an interstate move away from her longtime home of Columbus, Ohio, left her seeking to redefine herself both inwardly and societally. Released independently, Daughter presents an electric balance of deep vulnerability and power, replete with wry humor and honest, unadorned regret.

Recorded by Tom Schick (Mavis Staples, Norah Jones, Wilco) at The Loft in Chicago, Daughter features anthemic hooks and reflective moments of spaciousness. With Loveless writing on keyboards, synths and drum loops, the work comes together to present a group of compelling songs that create a treatise on selfhood, womanhood, hypocrisies of Western society, and the reverberant pain and joy of being human. Loveless spoke with BGS from her North Carolina home about the album she considers her most personal one yet.

BGS: Daughter lays out so many emotions and states of being that women are usually cut off from expressing — there’s a lot of sardonic humor, a lot of anger and frustration, there’s this rejection that every woman should have maternal desires. I love these very plain descriptions of living with depression, and the vocals sit right on top of the mix so you can hear every single word you’re saying. What was your internal process like while writing these songs?

Loveless: I mean, I’ve always been a bit of a sad sack. [Laughs] But I always couched it with humor. I feel like I found my place on this record with that. Because I’ve had a lot of people say that it’s… they don’t really say that it’s funny, but they can sense a lot of the humor and sarcasm in it. So I feel like I got to a solid place with that and I was probably reading a lot of depressing old ‘60s writers [Laughs] so that helped pull the content along I think.

In Daughter, you write very honestly about how your personal and professional life has shifted in the last three years — a move and the end of a marriage. What is it like to make a piece of art that dealt directly with that change?

It was super cathartic. I feel particularly excited about it and confident in it because it’s a self-release so it pretty much has got my stamp all over it. I think the idea that it’s up to me to make it more successful has had some sort of reverse psychology. Like I’m not very freaked out, I’m just excited and proud, and happy with the whole process.

One of the aspects of this record that I love are the variances in instrumentation and gear — the drum loops and keys as well as analog synths. It adds this whole other dimension to the album. How did these different instruments affect the way you write, if at all?

I think it helped me a lot to come up with better melody and more focused songwriting. I think in the past I’ve always been a very hard guitar player. [Laughs] It’s not like I don’t like that or that I’m embarrassed by it, but I wanted to try something different. I felt like it opened things up a lot. The whole band was playing every instrument except the drums because we’re not all that good. [Laughs] It was very exploratory and it helped me to give the songs a lot more space than I usually do.

Is that something that you’re hoping to continue?

Yeah. I feel like every time I make a record, the only way I really break through my inevitable period of writer’s block is by doing something that I don’t know how to do, so that I can learn it and be inspired by the newness of it. I’m sure I’ll run out of things like that eventually but I think it’s what helps me stay mentally in shape, for sure.

In past interviews you’ve talked about having been totally exhausted by touring. What was it like to sort of…stop? Because right now, many of us are at home dealing with having to be still. It’s very jarring for a lot of people. What was your experience with stillness in making Daughter and also now, during the pandemic?

It’s pretty tough, because the thing I miss the most about regular life is traveling and touring. Not necessarily going to the bar or getting dinner at a restaurant. I just miss being somewhere else all the time [Laughs], because that’s my natural state. It’s definitely something that I’ve had to work really hard on not going crazy with. Because it’s something I really enjoy — so that’s been the hardest part… not being able to just go random places and hop on a plane or go to the beach or whatever, you know?

Do you have three records, books, or movies that you’re enjoying right now and would recommend to readers?

I’m reading My Brilliant Friend right now. I’m studying Italian so I wanted to read something set in Italy — not that I’m reading in Italian. [Laughs] It’s great writing and the characters are very real. My movie watching has been lots of cornball thrillers. I think everyone should see Face/Off at some point in their life to feel better about their creative endeavors. Musically, I’ve been listening to a lot of Harry Styles. I’m a basic, basic human.

This record is a compelling statement on feminism, and specifically the concept that women only have worth insofar as they can be associated relationally with a man, as a daughter, wife, sister, etc. What do you hope people take from this record — this listening experience?

I think a lot of people have been frustrated with that whole “it’s somebody’s daughter” thing for a long time. I’m sure there’s been commentary on it, but I just have personally struggled with it for so long. So I am glad that I was able to get it down in a sonically pleasing — to me — way. [Laughs] So hopefully other people find it not just moving, lyrically, but think of it as a set of solid songs instead of just me screaming into the ether about how much it sucks that people don’t get feminism!

You’ve said that “Love Is Not Enough” is the closest to a political song you’ve been able to write thus far. What are you hoping to communicate with listeners through that song specifically?

I mean, I guess it’s sort of a grumpy song. But yeah, I think we’re all going through that right now. Everyone’s taking a lot more action than before and I don’t think we can really fool ourselves of this idea that if we just vote and say kind words, everything will be okay. [Laughs] There’s a lot more work to do. I think that society is really maybe finally coming together in that sense. But I also feel like this is in some ways my most personal record ever. And I think in some ways that makes it a lot more relatable. I feel like the more personal something is, the more people can connect with it. That’s my hope.

Photo credit: Megan Toenyes

Bloodshot Records at 25: An Insurgent Interview with Co-Founder Rob Miller

Posted on by Editor

Bloodshot Records’ 25th anniversary party is taking place in Chicago this Saturday, and they’re gonna party like it’s… 1994.

Long before the term Americana was coined, this fledgling Chicago label was issuing records by Robbie Fulks, Old 97s, and other road-worn musicians who built their careers on a mix of country and punk that the label initially termed “insurgent country.” That description didn’t last but the label forged on, with compelling artists and songwriters like Jason Hawk Harris, Sarah Shook & the Disarmers, and Luke Winslow-King now on the roster.

Bloodshot Records co-founder Rob Miller fielded some BGS questions by email. Check out the newest release, Too Late to Pray: Defiant Chicago Roots, at the end of the interview.

BGS: Launching a record label is a pretty big risk, then and now. Was there a specific moment that convinced you, “OK, the time is right to do this”?

RM: Au contraire! Risk never, ever crossed my mind. When you don’t have a business plan, an expectation of success — let alone longevity — or any idea what you are getting yourself into, ignorance and naiveté are powerfully liberating. The whole idea was, at the very least, a release from the drudgery of drywalling shitty condos in Wrigleyville and Old Town.

The three original partners ponied up a couple of grand from our day jobs, put together our first release, For a Life of Sin, and the day the CDs came back from the manufacturer, POOF!, we were a “label.”

I can’t imagine doing something as ridiculous as that now.

What do you remember about those first few conversations with your friends and your peers when you shared your plans to launch Bloodshot?

Practically nothing. It was a very blurry time. It was at a time in all our lives when all was action and creating and the moment without much thought to consequences. We were just so excited at the prospect of shining a light on this weird little scene in Chicago that I doubt anyone could have talked me out of doing it. The real world had not yet muscled itself to the table and I’ve managed, in many ways, to keep it at bay all these years. Oh, and then there was the tequila. As I said, very blurry.

Why did the phrase “insurgent country” fit the Bloodshot Records vibe, do you think?

It’s something Eric Babcock (one of the original founders) and I came up with one day drinking beer in my backyard — never let two English majors get drunk when there’s a thesaurus within reach, by the way.

We were looking for a catchy way to describe what we were doing, something that spoke to the outsider aspect and added an edge to the frequently off-putting “C” word. At the time, there wasn’t much critical language or reference points surrounding the melding of roots and punk. So, before someone else hung a dreadful tag on us like cowpunk or y’alternative, we thought it would be wise to TELL them what to call us.

Print media was so prevalent as this label was getting off the ground. What role did music journalists play in making Bloodshot a success?

Wait, we’re a success? Who knew? Where’s my pony, dammit!

Having spent my formative years reading fanzines and indie publications, persuading glossy mags or acclaimed daily newspapers to pay any sort of attention to us never crossed my mind. We did then, as we do now, focus on the grassroots. We work from the bottom up, rather than wait around for some “tastemaker” to tell the world it’s OK to like us or our artists. It was in those locally-based outlets where people could write about us with passion and without concern for circulation or broad appeal.

However, there are times when our tastes and popular culture intersected (Neko Case, Justin Townes Earle, Ryan Adams, Old 97s, Lydia Loveless, among others) and the wider world and folks higher up the media food chain paid attention to us. Usually that would take the form of a “trend” piece along the lines of “the new sound of country” or “Whiskey-soaked barn-burning punks” or some such shit. They’d be reactive and reductive, but tried to sound bold and cutting-edge by calling out some hot, fresh underground movement.

And that’s all great, but it doesn’t influence what we like or how we go about what we do.

Don’t get me wrong, or think me the King of Cynics (I am merely a prince), there were some insightful and humbling pieces in places like Rolling Stone, GQ, Village Voice, New York Times and the like. In NYC 1996, we had an afternoon barbeque on the Lower East Side with the Old 97s, Waco Brothers, and others. It was during CMJ and since they wouldn’t let our bands into the festival, we put on our own party (a precursor to our longstanding shindig at the Yard Dog Gallery during SXSW). I went outside to check on the line that snaked down the block and saw a couple writers from Rolling Stone and the legendary Greil Marcus trying to get in. Yikes. Things like that helped lend an air of legitimacy to our strange little crusade.

Who were some of the earliest champions for the label?

Fans, largely. Weirdos like ourselves who quickly responded to what we were trying to do. People who were fed up with the co-opting of the underground, of Lollapalooza, of Martha Stewart “grunge-themed” parties; people who were looking to classic country for the freshness, excitement, and freedom that they used to find in punk; people who were discovering that Johnny Cash, Loretta Lynn, and Hank Williams were 1000 times more interesting and relevant than the Stone Temple Pilots or the Red Hot Chili Peppers would ever be; people who were starting up, or involved in already, their own scenes in their cities who saw us as willing collaborators.

Fortunately, many of these collaborators also worked in the biz, as writers, DJs, promoters, record store owners, distributors, and club owners. We were able, in pretty short order, to stitch together an ecosystem of people who genuinely dug what we were trying to do and could help spread the word to the benefit of all. It was very much a community spread out across the country.

How has the Chicago music scene factored into the Bloodshot Records story?

There isn’t so much a Chicago music “scene,” as there is a Chicago “hustle.”

When I moved to Chicago, I was floored by the vast array of music available to me on any given night. So many clubs, so many bands, so many neighborhoods, so many options. Given our position in the middle of the country, most touring bands stopped here. Rent was cheap. Labels arose in a non-competitive environment which fostered a vibrant, organic and sustained creative burst. Since Chicago is a working town, rather than a company town like NYC, LA, or Nashville, there was an incredible amount of freedom to create and perform without fear of upsetting the “industry” or making a jackass of yourself and failing during your “shot” in front of A&R goons from a major label.

Do what you do. Try new things. We didn’t break rules so much as we never knew what the rules were in first place. Club owners took chances on our bands early on and became fans and advocates, the media cared and wrote about what was happening at the street level, and there were plenty of record stores and left of the dial radio lending encouragement. Coming from a place that lacked such a supportive infrastructure, I never, ever take it for granted.

I firmly believe that Bloodshot would not have thrived anywhere else.

At the time the label launched, vinyl pressings of new releases were very rare. How did the label respond when you all realized that vinyl was making a comeback?

Very true. Early on, other than a series of 7” singles, we didn’t do any vinyl. Occasionally, a European company would license a title and press up 500 LPs or so, but otherwise, it was a dead format. That pained the record nerd buried deep in my DNA.

So, we were quite happy to help with the resurgence of LPs. At first, we’d tentatively press up 500 or 1000 of only the releases we expected to do quite well; LPs are expensive, time-consuming and temperamental to manufacture, and unsold LPs take up a lot of space in our tiny warehouse. AND no one was sure if this was a quick blip or a passing fancy, so all the extant pressing plants were log-jammed for months at a time. But now, with new pressing plants finally opening up, virtually every release has a vinyl component to it and we’ve re-released music never before available in that format as well.

I think people who, by and large, grew up with downloads and streaming respond to vinyl because of its tactile and totemic connection to the music and the artist. As the saying goes, you can’t put your arms around an MP3. It makes the LP a very durable and loveable format.

What do you remember about Bloodshot’s first website?

Funny, I was just talking to an IT person about this the other day. When we moved into our current office 20 years ago, we had one modem for the entire office. If someone needed to get online, they would run through the office telling people to get off the phones so they could log on. We wrote letters and used faxes. We even called people on the corded telephones and talked to them — how very quaint.

If we wanted to edit our site, we’d have to compile a list of changes, and fax them over to our “programmer.” We did that usually every two weeks or so. From where we sit now, it feels so distantly and hilariously primitive, like I was the chimp smashing bones with a femur when the obelisk appears in 2001: A Space Odyssey.

Every once in a while, someone will say something like “I googled that DSP” or “the Wi-Fi crashed and I can’t download the WAV files” and think, good Lord, what would such utterances have sounded like back then? They would have locked you up or tossed you off the bus for being a loony.

In this era, having a record label isn’t essential to release music. However, from your perspective, what are some of the benefits of having label support?

Several years back, the conversation did turn rather aggressively towards “why even bother having a label?” True, the monolithic aspect of THE LABEL has been wholly and, in many cases, rightfully demolished by the internet.

However, artists are artists. They should create and perform. They should not be burdened with the time-sucking (yet necessary) banalities of promotion and business.

That’s where a “team” like us comes in — perhaps that’s a more relevant term than “label.” We can take all those nagging organizational bits off their plate and build the brand. We keep the trains running on time (I refer, of course, to European and Japanese trains, not Amtrak). And, let’s face it, many possessing the — how shall we say? — artistic temperament do not also possess the logistical grace to tackle all the infuriating minutiae that make the whole machine run. No one asks me to write a catchy melody or craft meaningful lyrics delving into the human condition. No one should ask the artist to make sure the digital service providers are given the proper metadata or set up an in-store performance in Fort Collins Colorado.

What excites you the most about the next 25 years?

Ivanka 2040?

The death of the Death of Irony?

Jet packs?

(Hopefully) outliving Henry Kissinger.

Florida and Mar-A-Lago sinking into the sea once and for all?

Making sure the soundboard at the old folks home is powerful enough for Jon Langford’s shouting to be heard over the Matlock re-runs?

BGS 5+5: Hawks & Doves

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Artist: Kasey Anderson, of Hawks & Doves
Hometown: Portland, OR
Latest album: From a White Hotel 

Which artist has influenced you the most … and how?

In the course of writing From a White Hotel, the writer whose work I spent the most time with was Eve Ewing. Her book, Electric Arches, came with me every day to the studio.

What’s your favorite memory from being on stage?

In 2012, just before we went out on tour with Counting Crows, we spent about a week working as the backing band for Tim Rogers, who is one of my favorite songwriters. Pretending to be You Am I for a week was as much fun as I’ve ever had on stage.

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

It’s all more or less connected to me. I mentioned Eve Ewing, whose poetry was a huge influence on me not necessarily because I wanted to borrow anything from her stylistically, but just in the sense that seeing someone do work of that quality is inspiring. I feel that way whether it’s looking at something Basquiat or Emory Douglas did or listening to Amanda Shires or Lydia Loveless or Mavis Staples. I walked out of Boots Riley’s film, Sorry to Bother You, with that same feeling. I get that feeling eating Sean Brock or Gabriel Rucker’s food. If you have to go out of your way to find inspiration, your eyes aren’t open very wide.

What rituals do you have, either in the studio or before a show?

It’s not a ritual per se but never underestimate the restorative power of a good lunch when making a record. That hour or so is absolutely sacred to me, I learned that early on from Eric Ambel.

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

Dinner with Boots Riley at Pizzaiolo in Oakland. The specific meal wouldn’t matter much as I’d probably be so nervous to be anywhere near Boots I doubt I’d be able to keep anything down.

 

Photo credit: Jennie Baker

A Minute in Columbus with Lydia Loveless

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Welcome to “A Minute In …” — a BGS feature that turns our favorite artists into hometown reporters. In our latest column, Lydia Loveless takes us through her favorite hangs of her former hometown, Columbus, Ohio.

I moved to Columbus, Ohio, when I was 14. A lot has changed since then, but I won’t go on an old man “get off my lawn” rant about it. The 13 years I spent there were certainly varied and formative, and many of the places that shaped who I am are gone. Towards the end of living there (I recently moved to North Carolina), I was a bit of a shut in, but I did have my regular haunts. These are the ones I’m willing to share and that will appeal to people who don’t live there, in this hillbilly’s humble opinion.

Photo credit: Breakfast with Nick

Baba’s: Situated right behind my last apartment in Columbus, I was in this place at least every other day, since it opened not too long ago. Everything is made in-house and local. (If I’m wrong, I can’t be too wrong about that.) I don’t know how many calories in Griddle Muffins — a hot, pillowy egg and cheese and protein or shredded veggie sandwich — I consumed, and I don’t really care. It was all worth it. Add the absolutely kind and warm owners, and I can’t imagine a place I’d rather dump all my money into.

Photo credit: Eleanor Sinacola

The Book Loft: I have an unhealthy obsession with books. I love nothing more than the safety of a bookstore or library. Columbus has an astounding library system, but you don’t live there, presumably, so go here instead. It’s 32 rooms — a city block long. I always feel incredibly peaceful there in spite of the various soundtracks serenading you from room to room. I like to grab a lavender latte from Stauf’s next door beforehand, if I’m feeling fancy, and just get lost.

Photo credit: Michael Casey

Pins: After the Book Loft, this is the #2 place I take people who don’t live there. A very un-claustrophobic place that you wouldn’t expect to be as it’s full of people playing — gulp — GAMES. I love to go with a few people, drink fruity cocktails (even of the non-alcoholic variety), and Duckpin Bowl (bowling with a smaller ball and pins and far more restraint and skill than the typical variety) for a couple hours. They have a sizable patio for smoking and people watching, if you’re interested in either of those things, and I’ve never had bad service there. I’ve also never witnessed a frustrated weight lifter break the duckpin bowling screens, but I’ve often hoped I would. Maybe you will.

Rumba: I’ve been playing here for 10 years, so I may be biased, but I very rarely go here and don’t enjoy myself. There’s such a wide variety of music going on there these days, it’s easy to pop in and find at least one act you enjoy, from folk to punk to pop. Yes, it’s tiny, but fairly recent updates have made the band onstage far easier to see in crowded situations, so even if you’re the claustrophobic type, it has more of a cozy than holy-shit-save-me vibe.

Old Skool: I never spoke of this place to anyone but my sister and guitar player — my sister, because I wanted her there, and my guitar player, because he hates chicken wings. But Old Skool has the best chicken wings I’ve ever put in my mouth. They’re smoked and slightly sticky but fall right off the bone. There’s no prehistoric wrangling of the meat, no deep fried bullshit to get through. Plus, they’re half-off on Mondays. Ask for the sauce on the side. I would go every couple days to watch baseball, drink a couple Coors banquets, and eat WINGS. I kept it a secret for fear of running into obsessive exes or whatever else Columbus has to offer, but I don’t live there anymore, so I pass it on.

Lede photo credit: Cowtown Chad.

BGS Class of 2016: Albums

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Though 2016 took a lot of amazing artists from us, it also gave some bright, new voices a chance to shine through and some familiar, steady ones the opportunity to re-emerge. From Courtney Marie Andrews and Margo Price to Dwight Yoakam and Charles Bradley, the BGS Class of 2016 represents the wonderful and wide spectrum of roots music albums released this year. Though the BGS team votes on our class favorites, aside from the top pick, the albums are listed alphabetically, rather than ranked.

Valedictorian/Prom Queen/Class President: Courtney Marie Andrews, Honest Life

Sometimes, folks encounter something — a piece of art, a landscape, what have you — so beautiful that it's hard to put the experience into words. More often than not, those same folks resort to comparison as the only means of getting their points across. That's probably why you've seen Courtney Marie Andrews compared to Joni Mitchell so many times: Her latest album, Honest Life, while certainly, at times, reminiscent of Our Lady in Blue, is so good that it must be explained with an invocation of one of our greatest living songwriters. And, hey, that's not such a bad spot for Andrews to find herself in, but don't let it fool you: The Seattle-based songwriter — no knocks to Mitchell, of course — is a singular voice, one that can only be understood by being heard. — Brittney McKenna

Best Americana Mother Lode: Amanda Shires, My Piece of Land

Amanda Shires is a pro. Since landing her first major gig at the age of 15, she’s recorded and toured with heavyweights like John Prine and Billy Joe Shaver while forging a career as an artist in her own right. On her latest solo album, My Piece of Land, the singer/songwriter/fiddle extraordinaire stakes her claim. Composed while she was homebound during her final months of pregnancy, the record is a stunning rumination on love, lust, family, and home. Produced by Nashville powerhouse Dave Cobb, each song has space to move and breathe, placing both Shires’ serene vocals and songwriting prowess front and center. — Desiré Moses

Best Album to Sip Whiskey To: Birger Olsen, The Lights Just Buzz

Arriving out of Portland, Oregon, and touting his music as “porch blues,” Birger Olsen flew under the radar in 2016, but his debut album, The Lights Just Buzz, is exactly what anyone craving a glass of whiskey and a moment of reverie will appreciate. With a voice close in tone and style to Tony Joe White and a meandering way with melodies and words, Olsen’s six songs offer listeners an electrifying, if unexpected delivery. It takes him over two minutes to introduce his voice on the album’s first track, “The Telephone Dangles on the Line,” whereas on “Liza” he proclaims his desire in as understated yet romantic a way possible. Olsen may build an onomatopoeic sensation into his title, but it’s a feeling that reverberates throughout his entire album. — Amanda Wicks

Most Likely to Remind You of Someone You Know (And Wish You'd Never See Again): Brandy Clark, Big Day in a Small Town

What Brandy Clark pulled off with Big Day in a Small Town was something special. On one hand, she offered up radio-friendly fare that was as catchy as it comes. On the other, she laid down some stone-cold country cuts that would easily stand up to the classics. To do that, an artist must have a rare strand of talent in their DNA — one that follows the muse but feels the mainstream. Johnny Cash, Loretta Lynn, Willie Nelson, Dolly Parton … that's the artistic tradition Clark is part of, and it's incredibly exciting to watch her step into that lineage as both a singer and a songwriter. — Kelly McCartney

Most Likely to Make You Crave Biscuits and Gravy: Brent Cobb, Shine on Rainy Day

It's been a banner year for the Cobb family. Producer Dave released his own album, Southern Family, while lending a hand in the studio to artists like Amanda Shires, Lake Street Dive, and Lori McKenna. His cousin Brent had a breakout 2016, too, first earning attention for his Southern Family contribution, "Down Home," shortly followed by heaps of acclaim for his major-label debut Shine on Rainy Day. That acclaim is warranted, as Cobb, who has penned songs for everyone from Luke Bryan to Miranda Lambert, stitches together nuanced portraits of daily life with thoughtful lyrics, simple arrangements and a unique, unassuming voice that's sure to stick with you long after your first listen. — BMc

Best Supergroup Trio Since, Well, Trio: case/lang/veirs

k.d. lang gets the credit for envisioning this illustrious collaboration with Neko Case and Laura Veirs. And, man, what a stroke of creative genius. Across the collection, each woman brings their unique gifts to bear — lang's stunning vocals, Veirs' quirky melodies, and Case's indie sensibilities — the melding of which is so spot-on in "Atomic Number" that it's hard not to linger there for far too long. Further in, though, "Song for Judee," "Blue Fires," "Greens of June," "Down I-5," and more take turns captivating the listener with their always delightful and sometimes devasting timbres. — KMc

Best Perspectives on a Historically Bad Year: Charles Bradley, Changes; Mavis Staples, Livin' on a High Note; William Bell, This Is Where I Live

Soul music has always thrived as a communal medium, one that can speak deftly to individual experiences within much broader social and racial contexts. Its ability to invite empathy and compassion — and even outrage — made albums by Mavis Staples, William Bell, and Charles Bradley sound like wise commentary on tumultuous times. The folk-gospel sound pioneered by the Staple Singers in the 1960s is just as relevant and radical now as it was then, as is the moral nobility that drove their music. Mavis captures that exuberance on her latest, Livin’ on a High Note, singing like social justice was a rejuvenating endeavor — which it really is. Especially on “Take Us Back” and “History Now” (penned by Neko Case), she sounds like the conscience of a nation that really ought to know better.

William Bell is better known as a songwriter than as a recording artist, but penning both “Born Under a Bad Sign” and “You Don’t Miss Your Water” might actually qualify him for sainthood. His latest release, This Is Where I Live, is his best, a collection of carefully crafted and beautifully sung songs that commingle the personal with the public. The title track recounts his days as a teenage hitmaker and the trials that followed, but by the album’s end he’s singing, “People everywhere just want to go home!” and putting his finger right on the very thing that unites us.

At 68, Charles Bradley is the baby of this bunch, but he brings every moment of his hard and remarkable life to bear on his third solo album, the mighty Changes, one of the most unflinchingly candid and unfailingly generous albums of the year. The title track, a cover of the Black Sabbath ballad, was originally intended as a heartbreaking comment on the death of his mother, which means his performance will reduce you to a puddle of tears. And yet, in 2016, the song became bigger than him, bigger than all of us: It sounds like a new national anthem for a country that is still trying to find a way to be truly exceptional. — Stephen Deusner

Most Unexpected Masterpiece: Chely Wright, I Am the Rain

In Chely Wright's country catalog, there are very few signposts pointing toward I Am the Rain. Sure, "Picket Fences" is a great song. Yes, Lifted Off the Ground has some solid moments. But this … this is a whole other ball of wax, right here. Teaming up with Joe Henry, Wright pours her heart and soul into every line and lick on this record, each song ebbing and flowing through a lifetime of pain and purpose. The natural plaintiveness of Wright's voice and the raw vulnerability of her writing both rest so comfortably within this more Americana-tinged sonic space that it's easy to see where she's going from here. — KMc

Best Bluegrass Tribute to Prince You Didn't Know You Needed: Dwight Yoakam, Swimmin' Pools, Movie Stars…

Leave it to a Canadian tuxedo-ed Los Angeleno to bring us one of the year's best bluegrass albums. Culling from decades' worth of deep cuts, Dwight Yoakam reimagined a number of his personal favorites from his own catalog, string-band style. It harkens back to the Kentucky-born artist's roots, and you can practically hear Yoakam's heart aching for the hollers of his hometown of Pikeville in his voice. And, as a small salve on the gaping wound that has been 2016, his simple, mournful cover of Prince's "Purple Rain" is one of only a handful of tributes to one of this year's many fallen soldiers truly worthy of its honoree. — BMc

Most Likely to Please the Traditionalists … and their Kids: The Earls of Leicester, Rattle & Roar

The Earls of Leicester’s Rattle & Roar is a fresh batch of Flatt and Scruggs songs. Started as a tribute to the Foggy Mountain Boys, the Earls have captured attention from festival to festival with their charming get-up of Western colonel ties, button-up shirts, coats, and hats. Fiddle, banjo, and mandolin heavy tunes about ex-convicts and prayers from mom abound as they reel you in. The sound on their sophomore record is that of traditional bluegrassers' dreams. Though the style is Trad and the tunes are oldies, they’ve managed to freshen up the songs to appeal to a new generation of listeners with honky tonk and gospel influences. What’s old always becomes new again. — Josephine Wood

Best Soundtrack for a Road Trip to Literally Anywhere: Hiss Golden Messenger, Heart Like a Levee

For several years now, M.C. Taylor has been balancing family life, a full-time job, and an increasingly popular indie-folk band — Hiss Golden Messenger. Many singer/songwriters have sung about the small compromises and big consequences of that struggle, but few have done so with quite as much fortitude and candor. “Should I walk on the water,” he asks, not quite rhetorically, on “Cracked Windshield,” “with so many people living just above the water line?” Heart Like a Levee is one of those albums where the liveliest songs sound the most burdened and the quietest songs the most jubilant, celebrating the fact that he has something to commiserate. — SD

Most Melodically Devastating Return: John Paul White, Beulah

The question was never whether the Civil Wars’ John Paul White could stand alone without his former partner, Joy Williams. But if ever doubt existed, Beulah served up the answer on a polished silver tray with mint juleps, to boot. White retreated to his native Muscle Shoals, Alabama, after he and Williams went their separate ways in 2014, and has emerged two years later with his second solo album. The titles alone — “Make You Cry,” “Hope I Die,” and “Hate the Way You Love Me” — suggest a dark album, but White’s strong ear for clever riffs and their expansive arrangements balances the lyrics’ brooding moments with melodies that draw upon traditional country, indie folk, and more. There’s an element of the sublime about Beulah, as if White, content from his current position, can look upon life’s more baleful moments and find the beauty within, which he does time and again. — AW

Most Striking New Voice: Kaia Kater, Nine Pin

At just 23 years old, Kaia Kater writes and plays with the virtuosity of an old-time veteran. Born of African-Caribbean descent in Quebec, she moved to West Virginia to tap into the roots of Appalachia and recently graduated from the first Appalachian Studies Program at the area’s Davis and Elkins College. With her low vocal, attention-grabbing cadence, and evocative banjo, Kater delivers stunners like the title track from her latest album, Nine Pin, which begins, “These clothes you gave me don’t fit right. The belt is loose and the noose is tight. Got drunk out looking for a fight. I’m soft and heavy as the night,” proving she’s the voice we need right now. — DM

Most Self-Empowering Kiss-Off: Kelsey Waldon, I've Got a Way

"You can't place a crown on a head of a clown and then hope it turns out to be king," sings Kelsey Waldon on "False King," a devilish track off her sophomore set, I've Got a Way. Waldon may not have written this with president-elect Donald Trump in mind, but, like on many of the Kentucky native's songs, there are layers of meaning and purpose in her smart and witty metaphors. It's that kind of point of view that makes Waldon's writing evergreen — and, layered with heavy steel guitar, jangly telecaster riffs, and plenty of lonesome twang, able to both conjure up '70s Nashville while remaining in her own unique lane. She's all by herself, indeed. — Marissa Moss

Best Couples' Therapy Set to Music: Lori McKenna, The Bird & the Rifle

Prolific and profound songwriter Lori McKenna has captured some of her deepest words of wisdom and stitched it together in a kind of beautiful needlepoint. The Bird & the Rifle is full of poignant lyricism as only a songwriter of McKenna’s caliber can produce, and even while her songs may not explicitly be intended as advice, sage messages exist throughout each one. There’s her warning about loving someone who kills the best part about you in “The Bird & the Rifle” or about not settling for shitty love on “Halfway Home,” or her chiding self-explanatory “Old Men Young Women.” No matter the subject, McKenna’s exacting phrases do what listeners need of music: articulate those experiences that leave us adrift in our own feelings, and help us find a bridge to understanding. — AW

Most Likely to Kick Your Ass, Figuratively and Literally: Lydia Loveless, Real

“My music is not the most optimistic or mood-lightening in the world,” Lydia Loveless explained in a BGS interview earlier this year. “But I do think it’s about that very Midwestern struggle, that everything-is-so-hard attitude.” By embracing this aspect of her neck of the woods — specifically, Columbus, Ohio, which she describes, almost glowingly, as “such a bitter and pessimistic town” — Loveless has found her truest subject and has made one of the toughest, boldest, and most badass singer/songwriter albums of the year. A collection of finely crafted songs about incredibly messy emotions, Real presents her as the rightful heir to that gaggle of flyover roots rockers from the late ‘70s and early ‘80s, dudes like John Mellencamp (minus the regional jingoism) and Tom Petty (not technically Midwestern, but come on), except with more confrontational wit in her lyrics and bite in her vocals. — SD

Most Stunning Debut to Be Snubbed So Broadly by Tone-Deaf Institutions: Margo Price, Midwest Farmer's Daughter

If you can't tell who Margo Price is three minutes into her debut solo LP, Midwest Farmer's Daughter, then you probably still think that Bruce Willis is alive and well at the end of Sixth Sense. As the soft pulsing bassline on the album's opener, "Hands of Time," creeps in and her chilling, powerhouse vocals take stage, it's instantly clear that this is the work of a singular artist who heads back into battle despite her wounds, spinning her heartbreak and misfortune into songs that are as timeless as they are completely au courant. Midwest Farmer's Daughter twangs as hard as it rocks, from barnburners like "About to Find Out" to the ferocious soul-country groove of "Four Years of Chances." Price might lay it all on the line here, but the beauty of this album is that, while we can understand her, we can never, ever, predict her. — MM

Best Musical Chemistry: My Bubba, Big, Bad, Good

This Scandinavian duo commands the stage like none other, bringing a hush over the crowd at Third Man Records’ Blue Room during AmericanaFest to deliver a bedtime lullaby. It’s not that these two dainty gals are screaming for attention; in fact, they barely speak much at all. But their music is lyrically striking — using what they call the “fragile challenge.” Baring it all in their lyrics and vocals, My Bubba puts their fragility on the line on Big, Bad, Good, and it works. Their blend of old country, blues, and bluegrass is particularly entrancing because the production makes it feel like they are singing directly to you. They’ve mastered the use of silences through their use of minimal instrumentation and two seraphic voices in harmony. — JW

Best Way to Soundtrack an Apocalypse: Parker Millsap, The Very Last Day

We didn’t know what a doozie of a year 2016 would be in virtually all categories when Parker Millsap delivered his outstanding, 11-song sophomore release The Very Last Day in March, but it’s safe to say that the 23-year-old’s marrying of complex characters with dark narratives and whooping, guttural twang made the idea of a modern doomsday a hell of a lot more artful. Album standout “Heaven Sent” details the plight of a young gay man coming out to an evangelical father, while Millsap’s take on the African-American spiritual “You Gotta Move” employs his howling vocals over sparse instrumentals to transform the song’s message from one of Godly comfort to one of a creeping, inevitable descent. For an album crafted around the end of days, The Very Last Day is a good indicator that this promising young voice is only just revving up. — DO

Most Likely to Score a Critically Acclaimed Indie Movie: Parsonsfield, Blooming through the Black

Before Massachusetts five-piece Parsonsfield sat down to create September’s Blooming through the Black, they spent a year playing the same music hundreds of times for a theatre production — a practice that reveals itself on the record in tight harmonies and a knack for the understated. Soft vocals and minimal accompaniment on “Don’t Get Excited” underscore a message of simplicity and minimalism. “Hot Air Balloon” simulates the airy, floating sound of its title, sounding like the zoom-out scene of long-fought romantic tale. None of these are songs that sound the same, though, with upbeat numbers like the title track showing off the band’s range and pointing to their capability for a barn-burning live show. — DO

Best Multi-National Incorporation: River Whyless, We All the Light

Opening with an unplugged vocal harmony that quickly layers African-influenced percussion, We All the Light quickly moves from American to World Folk. Not only is the album an upbeat, string-heavy, shimmering beacon of hope musically, but it also boasts lyrics that everyone in the midst of post-election fallout should soak in. As member Daniel Shearin put it, “We are all the light and are trying really hard to put that idea into practice, seeing everybody as equal and being as inclusive as you can.” It’s nice to remember we’re all in this big world together, and River Whyless reaffirms that message, filtered through a world lens. — JW

Most Likely to Go Electric: Sara Watkins, Young in All the Wrong Ways

From the opening strains of the title track, Young in All the Wrong Ways delivers on its promise that Sara Watkins is all grown up, personally and professionally. She also has something to say. A few somethings, actually. With a stronger voice than we've heard from her, both metaphorically and otherwise, Watkins works through the 10-song cycle using that voice in ways alternately cutting and caring, fierce and fragile. Anyone who can listen to tunes like "Without a Word," "The Love That Got Away," and "Like New Year's Day" and yet be unswayed to fan-dom might need to have their pulse checked. This is simply a beautiful record from an ever-evolving, always exciting artist. — KMc

Most Likely To Sweep You Away: Sarah Jarosz, Undercurrent

Although Undercurrent is Sarah Jarosz’s fourth full-length, she’s described it as a record of firsts. It’s the first album the singer/songwriter/multi-instrumentalist has written while not simultaneously being in school. (She recently graduated with honors from the New England Conservatory of Music.) It’s the first record she’s released without any covers. And it’s her first release since moving to New York, whose surroundings heavily influenced this batch of songs. While the album is wrought with impressive features by the likes of Sara Watkins and Parker Millsap, it’s Jarosz’s smoky alto and ever-adept musicianship that make this record a standout. — DM


Most Likely to Move Your Heart and Hips: St. Paul and the Broken Bones, Sea of Noise

When St. Paul and the Broken Bones danced onto the scene with their 2014 debut Half the City, the band's vintage soul sound felt familiar yet groundbreaking. But as old-school influences become more common in today's up-and-coming performers, the band's sophomore effort called for a bit more depth — and Sea of Noise delivered. Songs like "Brain Matter" and "Waves" pay lyrical mind to violence and political unrest, while songs like "Flow with It (You Got Me Feelin' Like)" are an unmistakeable call to get on your feet and dance. Sea of Noise was just the right combination of body-moving soul goodness and heart-wrenching lyrical testament to elevate the already heavenly St. Paul and his Broken Bones to an even higher calling. — DO

Best Compass for Those Adrift on Music Row: Sturgill Simpson, A Sailor's Guide to Earth

Sturgill Simpson said that his third LP, A Sailor's Guide to Earth, was a gift to his newborn son — an atlas, so to speak, to the world that lay before him. The gift to the rest of us is that Simpson's planet — built by string-scorching country, fiery soul, and perfectly swanky horns courtesy of the Dap-Kings — isn’t one that many of us are lucky enough to belong to. But like his breakthrough, Metamodern Sounds in Country Music, A Sailor's Guide is transformative: Anchored by an oceanic metaphor, it's at times outlaw funk ("Keep It Between the Lines," that's like Waylon Jennings waltzing into 1960s Detroit), sentimental doo-wop ("All Around You"), and balls-to-the-wall bliss ("Call to Arms"). If everyone in Nashville navigated like Simpson, we'd be dealing in tempests, not truck songs. — MM

Best Album to Distract Your Own Dysfunctional Southern Family from Talking About the Election During the Holidays: Various Artists, Southern Family

It says a lot about producer Dave Cobb — the Americana super-producer responsible from major releases from Jason Isbell, Chris Stapleton, and more — that he was able to release Southern Family under his own name (or, technically, as "Various Artists"). Recruiting a who's-who of critically acclaimed country and roots musicians ain't easy, and getting that bunch to fork over great songs for someone else's album is damn near impossible. And, man, are these songs great. Morgane Stapleton's Chris-assisted "You Are My Sunshine" shows that her husband isn't the only one around the house with some serious pipes. Anderson East's "Learning" is one of his best tracks to date. Brandy Clark's "I Cried" is a straight-up stunner. If there are any lame ducks, it's Zac Brown's contribution "Grandma's Garden"; but, hey, with competition from Jason Isbell, Miranda Lambert, and Brent Cobb, the deck wasn't stacked in Brown's favor. — BMc

Photo credit: j.o.h.n. walker via Foter.com / CC BY

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Get Off Your Ass: November Cometh

Posted on by Editor

Shovels & Rope // The Fonda // November 2

Paper Bird // Bootleg Theater // November 3

Jared & the Mill // The Satellite // November 4

Joan Baez // Walt Disney Concert Hall // November 5

Robbie Fulks // McCabe's Guitar Shop // November 6

Jonny Fritz // El Rey // November 10

Sean Hayes // The Satellite // November 10

James McMurtry // Troubadour // November 11

Erykah Badu // Memorial Coliseum Exposition Park // November 13

Sturgill Simpson // The Wiltern // November 15-16

Amanda Shires // Echo // November 17

Kris Kristofferson // The Rose (Pasadena) // November 17

Loretta Lynn // Opry House // November 1

Chicago Farmer // The 5 Spot // November 3

The Steeldrivers // Opry House // November 4

Kelsey Waldon // Station Inn // November 5

O'Connor Band // City Winery // November 7

The Stray Birds // Station Inn // November 9

Madeleine Peyroux // City Winery // November 10

Radney Foster // City Winery // November 12

Darrell Scott // City Winery // November 19

Boo Ray // The 5 Spot // November 19

Will Kimbrough // The Bluebird Café // November 26

Vince Gill // Ryman Auditorium // November 30

Ryley Walker // Villain // November 3

Chatham County Line // Rockwood Music Hall // November 4

Mipso // Rough Trade (Brooklyn) // November 5

Toshi Reagon // Joe's Pub // November 6

Brandy Clark // Mercury Lounge // November 11

The California Honeydrops // Bowery Ballroom // November 13

Charlie Parr // Rockwood Music Hall // November 14

Hiss Golden Messenger // Music Hall of Williamsburg // November 15

Lydia Loveless & Aaron Lee Tasjan // Bowery Ballroom // November 16

Margo Price & Sam Outlaw // Music Hall of Williamsburg // November 16

Infamous Stringdusters // Brooklyn Bowl // November 18

Chely Wright // The Bell House (Brooklyn) // November 29