Tag: Margo Price
BGS Class of 2016: Albums
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
Get Off Your Ass: November Cometh
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
MIXTAPE: 3rd & Lindsley
For music venues in Music City, the competition for both artists and audiences is stiff. But Ron Brice and his 3rd & Lindsley crew — which includes the same door man, head chef, and sound engineer since the club's opening — have made a successful go of it for the past 25 years. Along the way, they've enjoyed a weekly residency with the Time Jumpers (featuring Vince Gill), a 20-year partnership of weekly broadcasts on WRLT-FM, a talent buyer (Santo Pullella) whose first confirmed act was Chris Stapleton, and a calendar filled with legends — and legends in the making.
Here, Pullella selects some of the artists the club is proud to have hosted:
The Wood Brothers — “Postcards From Hell”
Chris and Oliver Wood blew us all away with their 2006 debut album, Ways Not to Lose, and a performance at 3rd & Lindsley. Now, they’re an international success and one of the world’s best bands.
Sturgill Simpson — “Brace for Impact (Live a Little)”
Sturgill’s name and music had been on our radar, but when he opened for the Devil Makes Three in 2013 on a cold January Lightning 100 Nashville Sunday Night, it looked like the world would know him soon.
The Devil Makes Three — “Do Wrong Right”
We think about whiskey and dark places when we hear this band, and seeing them live is only a real good time.
Nikki Lane — “Seein’ Double”
She is living proof that it is "always the right time to do the wrong thing," and it really works for her! She’s just cool with always being herself — and that’s a unique woman.
Chris Stapleton — “Might as Well Get Stoned”
Chris is a man who worked so hard for so many years in Nashville until it all seemed to tip in his favor, all at once. We’re really happy for him … and even proud.
Lucinda Williams — “Can’t Let Go”
The legendary songwriter has no fear of digging deep into herself and showing it to the world.
Ray Wylie Hubbard — “Mother Blues”
Ray, the National Treasure! Storytellers do not get any better than Ray.
Paul Thorn — “Pimps & Preachers”
Paul is a part of the family here at 3rd & Lindsley. He walks in and its non-stop one-liner jokes and stories until the night is done. Killer band, killer show.
The Mavericks — “All Night Long”
When these guys got back together a few years ago, it was like a legendary athlete showing up at halftime, telling the coach he’s going in, and then taking over. And none can make their sound.
Sam Lewis — “3/4 Time”
We’ve been watching him for the past year, and he’s someone everyone should be watching with his style of blue-eyed country soul. There’s some Van Morrison, James Taylor, and a whole lot of Sam Lewis here! He’s doing a lot of dates this year with Chris Stapleton. The future is very bright for him.
Lake Street Dive — “Call Off Your Dogs”
We’re very happy for Rachael Price and the band. Many, many years of hard work is paying off.
Margo Price — “Hands of Time”
Another artist we’re so proud to see achieving what they deserve. Her two-night run this June sold out fast, and it doesn’t appear there is a limit to her success.
Lede photo: Lee Ann Womack performs during the 16th Annual Americana Music Festival & Conference at 3rd & Lindsley on September 18, 2015 . Photo credit: Terry Wyatt/Getty Images for Americana Music.
The 2016 Americana Music Awards Winners
The 15th annual Americana Music Association Honors & Awards Show happened last night at Nashville’s famed Ryman Auditorium. Led by host Jim Lauderdale, the festivities honored Bob Weir, Shawn Colvin, Billy Bragg, William Bell, and Lauderdale with Lifetime Achievement Awards.
Each of those recipients also performed, along with Rodney Crowell, Steve Earle, Emmylou Harris, Jason Isbell, Nitty Gritty Dirt Band, Bonnie Raitt, George Strait, Alison Krauss, and quite a many more backed by a Buddy Miller-led house band. Presenters include Jack Ingram, Timothy B. Schmit, Taylor Goldsmith, Wynonna Judd, the Indigo Girls, Bruce Hornsby, and Joe Henry.
Winners are in bold.
Album of the Year
Something More Than Free — Jason Isbell, Produced by Dave Cobb
The Ghosts of Highway 20 — Lucinda Williams, Produced by Greg Leisz, Tom Overby, and Lucinda Williams
The Very Last Day — Parker Millsap, Produced by Parker Millsap and Gary Paczosa
Traveller — Chris Stapleton, Produced by Dave Cobb and Chris Stapleton
Song of the Year
"24 Frames" — Jason Isbell, Written by Jason Isbell
"Dime Store Cowgirl" — Kacey Musgraves, Written by Kacey Musgraves, Luke Laird, and Shane McAnally
"Hands of Time" — Margo Price, Written by Margo Price
"S.O.B." — Nathaniel Rateliff & the Nightsweats, Written by Nathaniel Rateliff
Artist of the Year
Jason Isbell
Bonnie Raitt
Chris Stapleton
Lucinda Williams
Duo/Group of the Year
Alabama Shakes
Emmylou Harris & Rodney Crowell
Lake Street Dive
The Milk Carton Kids
Tedeschi Trucks Band
Emerging Artist of the Year
Leon Bridges
John Moreland
Margo Price
Nathaniel Rateliff & the Night Sweats
Instrumentalist of the Year
Cindy Cashdollar
Stuart Duncan
Jedd Hughes
Sara Watkins
That Old Feeling: Vince Gill in Conversation with Margo Price
We usually think of musical traditions as being defined by their distinctive stylistic elements: the hard-driving string bands of bluegrass; the nimble, fingerstyle guitar figures of Piedmont blues; the rhythmically frisky washboard and squeeze box of Zydeco. It’s quite possible, though, for us to hear a kinship to country tradition in the music of two artists who serve two separate audiences in separate ways. That’s certainly true of Vince Gill and Margo Price — he, the mainstream country standard-bearer; she, the indie country newcomer. They may both incorporate time-tested textures like pedal steel guitar, but they belong to markedly different traditions of countrified emotional expression.
A classically trained singer who’s cultivated a tough vocal attack, Price musters a worldly brand of feistiness and hardship-withstanding resilience that takes significant cues from Loretta Lynn. And, much as Lynn’s down-home grit has come to command the admiration of a younger generation of rock-reared fans who value rawness and autobiographical authenticity — not to mention attract Jack White as a collaborator — Price’s music holds powerful appeal for that same crowd. It’s White’s Third Man Records that is releasing her bewitching debut, Midwest Farmer’s Daughter, an album that arrives with a vintage aesthetic and an underdog narrative: She had to part ways with her car and wedding ring to pay for it.
Gill, on the other hand, ranks as one of modern country’s finest, most tender voices — an openly emotional balladeer par excellence who’s equally at ease with honky-tonk weepers in the George Jones vein and sensitive, sophisticated adult-pop. That expressive range has long endeared Gill to popular country fans and made him a radio fixture through the ’90s. The same major label that was his home back then, MCA Nashville, just put out the immensely rewarding new set that he recorded in his home studio, Down to My Last Habit.
Though Gill’s singing and songwriting often exemplifies the softer side of country and Price stakes out spunkier territory, they had no trouble at all speaking across the divide.
Margo Price, meet Vince Gill. Vince Gill, meet Margo Price.
Vince Gill: Well, it’s great to hear from ya, Margo. Are you doing okay?
Margo Price: Yeah, I’m doing well. How are you?
VG: I’m just fine.
Before you got on the line, Vince, Margo and I were talking about the fact that she’s doing her very first Opry performance this Friday night.
VG: Oh, that’s awesome! It’s a big deal. You will never ever forget it, I can assure you.
MP: Thank you!
It just so happens that Vince is celebrating his 25 th anniversary as a member of the Opry very soon.
MP: Yeah, congrats!
VG: Aw, thanks. I’m just old.
[Both Laugh]
MP: Well, I’m pretty old to be making my first appearance on the Opry. Do you remember the first time that you played?
VG: I do, yeah. I got asked once to play the Opry, I think, in ‘88 or ’89. My daughter was in the second or third grade, and we were all set to do this talent show at school. She asked me to play guitar for her, so I taught her “You Are My Sunshine.” We practiced and learned it and had to make all the rehearsals. [The talent show] was all set for a Saturday night.
So I get this call from the Opry, and they said, “Hey, we’ve been watching your career. We want to invite you out to play the Opry.” And I said, “Awesome! When?” And they said, “Saturday night.” I said, “Oh, my God. I can’t make it. I’m playing at the Grassland Elementary School. I’ve gotta back up my kid.” So I kept my promise to my kid, and they invited me on down the line a little bit later.
MP: That’s really beautiful.
VG: Yeah, it was really cool. Jimmy C. Newman was the one who did the introduction, and I sang “When I Call Your Name.” That’s the first song I sang on that stage. I’d just written it and had hopes for it. I don’t even know if I’d recorded it yet.
MP: Wow, that’s really cool.
I love that we’ve begun this conversation with you two comparing stories. I’ll open with a question for both of you. I admit I almost feel silly asking this of a member of the Country Music Hall of Fame who is himself cited as an influence by so many singers. Here goes anyway: What country singer sets the bar for you when it comes to conveying emotion and being expressive?
VG: Go ahead, kiddo.
MP: Well, I have always been really drawn to a lot of singers of the ‘50s through ‘70s, especially women. Loretta Lynn, I think, is kind of where I’ve tried to set the bar. She could sing so tough, but she was always talking about something. I think Tammy Wynette, too. She could go one second from sounding really vulnerable and fragile to just kind of overcoming and somehow coming out strong, even though she didn’t feel that way. I think probably those two, and Dolly. The three of them I try to live up to, which is a hard thing to do.
What about you, Vince?
VP: One of the most emotional singers I’ve ever heard is Patsy Cline. You felt a tear in the way that she sang all the time. Then the earliest George Jones records. They sounded hungry. They sounded forlorn. They were full of melancholy. To me, that’s the epitome of a great country singer, is you honestly find the emotion, not necessarily through the words of a song but through the emotion of a singer. Come to find out, when I got to be great friends with George, he told me, “I was trying to emulate Roy Acuff.” If you listen to a Roy Acuff record, you hear him do the same kind of thing that George did, but George did it quite a bit differently, with some more soulful notes and bending notes a little differently. But there was a real similarity in them.
I remember when I was first starting to make country records, I wanted to be so traditional, but I was at a label that really wasn’t all that keen on having a real traditional roster. So I was a little bit lost. When I started on my first record, I was singing my heart out as best I could. My producer, Emory Gordy, graciously told me, “Listen, that sounds great, but we already have a George Jones. You need to find your voice. You need to find your way that you want this emotion to be conveyed. Don’t ever imitate. Be inspired by, but find your own voice.”
Vince, the most traditional-sounding song on your new album is the one you’ve dedicated to George Jones, “Sad One Comin’ On.” It’s a real weeper about being deeply affected by his singing in life and deeply affected by his passing. What went into that song?
VG: Just the truth. The greatest songs come from the truth. The truth was he lived every word of that song. All I had to do was tell his truth through my eyes. There’s one moment in that song where I really feel like I channeled him in a really beautiful way. In the last verse, there’s a line that says, “He’d tear your heart out when he sang a song.” Just the way that the word “tear” came out of my mouth, I wanted that to be an instant where it sounds like George.
Margo, I’ve read that you have an interesting connection to George Jones. Is it true that your great uncle is the songwriter Bobby Fischer, who wrote Jones’s “Writing on the Wall”?
MP: Yeah. He actually just had his 80th birthday. His daughter surprised him by getting everybody to sing songs that he wrote. Of course, I picked “Writing on the Wall.” That’s one of my favorites. It was so nerve-wracking. I sang it in front of him and Dickey Lee. George is probably the greatest singer of all time. It’s crazy that he lived the way he did and he could still belt.
Vince, you’ve joked that you cried like a baby at George Jones’s funeral. I was listening live on WSM that day, and I think you filled a really important role in the collective grieving process when you sang your song “Go Rest High on That Mountain” and got so overcome that you couldn’t get the words out.
VG: It was interesting, because I think it gave everybody the okay to let go. Before [I sang], it had all been so performance-oriented that, when I kind of lost it, it gave the room the ability to cry. … Truth be told, what really tore me up was hearing Patty’s [Loveless] voice — the sound of her voice and mine and the history of the two of us [singing together]. We were there getting up for George. So it was a combination of all those things: the passing of one of the true greats.
What’s it been like watching “Go Rest High on That Mountain” become a modern-day standard that people turn to for comfort?
VG: It’s pretty overwhelming, honestly. I was not gonna record that song back in the day when I wrote it. My brother passed in ‘93, and that was my way of honoring my brother and grieving for him and putting it in a song what I hoped was in store for him. I’m so grateful that we did choose to put it out. I guess people have said it’s become the modern-day “Amazing Grace” almost. … When people wanna turn to something you’ve gone and created, in their hardest of times, I can’t even describe how grateful I am [for that].
Not all the songs on your new album are melancholy, but a lot of them really testify to the depths of people’s feelings toward those they love or desire, those they’ve delighted in or let down or been wounded by. For you, how is that kind of sensitivity linked to mature expression?
VG: All I know is that all I’ve ever wanted was to be moved by music, not so much to be impressed. Certain voices can sing all the notes, all the runs, all the licks, or a guitar player can play every note in the book, and at the end of the day, you go, “Well that was impressive, but it didn’t do anything to stir an emotion in me.” That’s kinda what the whole point of it has been for me.
Margo, you were joking earlier that you’re belatedly reaching this point in your career. You’ve been grinding it out in small clubs for a dozen years now, something like that.
MP: That sounds about right.
Since this is your first album under your own name, it’ll be most people’s first chance to form an impression of what you do. The title you chose, Midwest Farmer’s Daughter, brings to mind Loretta Lynn’s Coal Miner’s Daughter. What appeals to you about drawing a connection between where you’re coming from and where she was coming from?
MP: It was definitely kind of a nod to her, and also a nod to the Beach Boys’ song [“Farmer’s Daughter”]. It just felt really good to be honest and say where I’m from. I wasn’t born in the South, and sometimes people wanna make a point that I’m not allowed to sing country music or something because of that.
There have been great Canadian country singers.
MP: Yeah. I mean, you’d be surprised when you look back. Connie Smith, she was from Ohio. But yeah, I think it was nice to say something simply about who I am and where I came from.
To get a little more specific, how did Loretta Lynn’s tough-talking tell-offs, songs like “Fist City” and “Don’t Come Home a-Drinkin” and so on, influence some of your songs, say, “About to Find Out,” for instance?
MP: [Laughs] That’s a very good comparison between the three that you just mentioned. That one [“About to Find Out”] definitely mirrors the attitude in her songs. I just always loved that she was able to talk about things and not shove an idea down someone’s throat, but maybe [show] the other side of the coin. “The Pill” and things that she really went out on a limb to do, that kind of writing and living on the edge excites me.
You sing from the perspective of somebody who’s lost the family farm, or who’s spent a weekend in jail, or who’s been kicked around by life and the music industry — someone who’s gone through all that stuff and is a scrappy survivor. That’s the persona I get from a lot of your songs. What feels right to you about singing from that place?
MP: I think, for so long, I was writing from a different point-of-view. That may or may not be why it’s working now and it wasn’t then. I think, like Vince said earlier, the best thing about songs is honesty. An honest song is a good song. I feel really confident when I sing it, because I’ve lived it. It’s a form of therapy, I think, to just get it out and wear my heart on my sleeve a little bit. Plus, everybody loves an underdog.
Have you noticed that people seem to really place a lot of importance on the idea that the hardships you’re singing about are literally your autobiography?
MP: … It’s been interesting that that’s what people want to talk about. I guess the songs are interesting. I think, when I was writing 10 or 12 years ago, I didn’t have a lot of life experience. Like Vince was saying earlier, when your brother passed and you wrote that song, you kind of go into survival mode of, “How do I make myself and other people able to cope with tragedy?” Through that, you get thicker skin and you move on and, hopefully, you can share some of what you’ve learned with the folks around you.
Vince, the way you use your voice — the vibrato and curlicues and bent notes — makes a tremendous difference in making people feel a song. What would you say it takes for you to put that tenderness across vocally?
VP: Well, I think that the key to great singing is when you don’t; it’s when you stop. And what I mean is, if there’s this long line of words, it’s kind of like breathing. You want the listener to be able to take a breath, too. So often singers will sing all the way across the end of a phrase, all the way through, so that they cover up where maybe the hi-hat ends or the guitarist does what he does or whatever. The point of it all is to make room for everybody. That includes the singer.
I think a voice is either interesting to you or it’s not. It’s not going to be more interesting to you if you can sing more notes or if you can sing louder or harder or what have you. … What’s funny is, most singers will find a thing that they think is their thing, their go-to thing. And, to me, it’s generally the least appealing thing that they do. [Laughs] I don’t know why that is, but I’m sure that’s true in my case, as well. There are some go-to things that I think are my thing and everybody will roll their eyes and go, “That’s not what it is.”
MP: [Laughs]
VP: So I don’t know that I’ve got the answer to what it is that I do that people are drawn to. I’m grateful that they are. I think it’s the ability to be subtle with what you’re trying to do.
Margo, you have that no-nonsense, tough vocal attack and hard-edged phrasing. People have compared it not only to Loretta Lynn but also Tanya Tucker, and I’d throw in Wanda Jackson, too. How do you feel like you summon toughness in your approach to singing?
MP: You know, I had so many years of classical training. I was in choir and sang a lot in church and my mom would drive me 45 minutes up to this voice teacher in the city. She would teach me all the things, but it really is about just the raw emotion underneath it. I’m sure I still use some of my technique here and there, but I don’t find myself over-thinking it, because that’s when I’ll mess up. Growing up, too, in the school choir that I was in, the choir director, she never wanted to give me solos. Every now and then I would get to be in an ensemble. It was just like Vince was saying — people either like your voice or they don’t. And I think some people really love my voice because it’s different and it stands out. I’m sure other people are just not sure what to think of it. It’s got its own thing. I don’t quite know how to explain what I do, I guess.
I’d love to close with another question for both of you. We’ve been talking about the emotional traditions that you’re each working in. How do you feel like masculinity or femininity shapes what you do? How do you make use of either in your expression?
MP: You wanna go?
VG: Go ahead, buddy.
You’re both so polite!
MP: I know. Too polite.
… I do love a lot of male musicians and songwriters. So I feel like there’s part of me that’s always been a little jealous of the way that guys have the ability to sing more powerfully. Sometimes there’s this misconception that women have to sing pretty. I guess I like a good mix of the two. I’ve kind of been trying to get back into exercising my head voice a little more, because I do use my belting chest voice a lot. Like I said, I have classical training and I would sing mezzo-soprano Italian songs. I really exercised that delicate, sweet voice. But I think that, for a long time, I’ve kind of wanted to do the opposite and belt things out like Hank or Merle or George — or even women who commanded it, even Etta James or soul singers that really drove it out. You know, you have to find a good balance that works for you. Hopefully I’ve landed somewhere in the middle of that.
VG: [Laughs] You’re asking a question about masculinity and you’re talking to a guy that sings higher than most women on the planet. I already sing like a girl.
I just think that the real key is more about the soul that you bring. You sing what’s appropriate for the song you’re singing. … All you really want to do is sound authentic when you’re singing. You don’t want to sound like, “Hey, I’m a country singer singing a rock tune. Hey, I’m a jazz singer singing a country tune.” I think that each song is gonna dictate the way you should sing it. You may wanna sing it hard, but that could be wrong. I think that it’s more a song to song choice. I can honestly say I don’t think anything about masculinity at any point when I’m singing.
[All Laugh]
I really appreciate you both being good sports about this.
VG: It was fun.
MP: Yeah.
VG: Margo, have a great Friday night. I’m happy for ya.
MP: It was really an honor to speak with you today. I’m not gonna lie: I was a little nervous.
VG: Don’t be!
MP: You’re so sweet.
Illustration by Abby McMillen. Vince Gill photo by J Wright. Margo Price photo by Angelina Castillo for Third Man Records.
Michaela Anne, ‘Easier Than Leaving’
In country music, a "weeper" is a real thing: a song that's somewhere between a ballad and a hopeless confessional, that places more emphasis on a forlorn guitar and rare, raw lyricism than showboat vocals (though they're often part of the package, too). Think Hank Williams' and Patsy Cline's saddest moments or, later, Townes Van Zandt's — jewels like "I'm So Lonesome I Could Cry" that struck a perfect balance on the Southern scale with barn-burning honky-tonk, keeping it all delicately teetering in line.
But then the '90s happened and, for better or worse, ballads got the Faith Hill and Shania Twain treatment — notes hit the ceiling and power bombast replaced subtle solemnity. Simplicity, this was not. Luckily, there's been a new bubbling interest in bringing back the genre's delicate, melancholy roots: most of Daniel Romano's Come Cry with Me, Andrew Combs' "Too Stoned to Cry," Margo Price's "Hands of Time," and even Miranda Lambert's "Holding On to You." Now Michaela Anne, on her sophomore album, Bright Lights and the Fame, has an LP full of them — heartbreakers so grounded in self-awareness that they never sound anything but authentic, yet never too indulgent to ring just like diary scribbles.
One of the LP's best is "Easier Than Leaving," which opens with a snapshot in time of a fading relationship: "Sitting at the table, back's against the wall / Coffee's getting colder as I wait for you to talk." Who hasn't felt that tension, taken a last gasp at peaceful air before they fully breathed in the inevitable reality they knew was coming? With a clear quiver, Anne, who moved to Nashville from New York City two years ago, reinvents the lost age of those weepers in the way someone equally schooled in both the forebears — like Williams and Cline — and its modern folk interpreters — like Gillian Welch and Conor Oberst who carried the emotive torch when mainstream Music Row was too busy belting — might. "Easier Than Leaving" might not change her lover's mind and force them to stay, but it will just continue to help put soft, strummed country sadness back on the map.
6 Punk Rock Players Reshaping Roots Music, Part Two
Last year, we highlighted some of our favorite up-and-coming roots musicians who, acoustic instruments aside, embody the punk rock spirit. From one man band Possessed by Paul James to punk-turned-troubadour John Moreland, the nine players listed shared many of the qualities essential to punk music: DIY mindsets, balls-to-the-wall shredding, and a tendency toward the political.
Since then, we've seen a number of new acts who, regardless of whether their actual sound makes you want to listen to mclusky, are carrying the punk torch just as loud and proud as that first batch. Check out a handful of our favorites:
The Bones of J.R. Jones
Similar to Possessed by Paul James from our first installment, New York-based artist Jonathan Linaberry, known to fans as the Bones of J.R. Jones, has been known to play guitar and drums while singing his eerie, blues-influenced folk songs. His latest album, Spirit's Furnace, marries the DIY ethic of his live show with the knack for storytelling for which he has come to be known.
Parker Millsap
Parker Millsap may be making waves in the Americana world with his raw vocals and wry tales of evangelical truck drivers, but it's "Heaven Sent," a tune from his most recent album, The Very Last Day, that earns him a spot here. The song finds Millsap inhabiting the mind of a young, Christian, gay man seeking reassurance from both his father and his Father, making for a statement that feels far more personal than political.
Margo Price
Much ado has been made about Margo Price and her debut album, Midwest Farmer's Daughter, but it's the 13-year journey — fraught with waiting tables and waiting on a big break — that brought Price to Third Man Records and the Saturday Night Live stage that makes her one of the most punk rock artists in our community. That, and those hard-scrabble songs about drinking and jail.
Sam Gleaves
A lot of punk players show off their cred with their gear, and West Virginia player Sam Gleaves is no exception with his rainbow-colored banjo strap. On "Ain't We Brothers," the openly gay Gleaves, whose grassroots efforts have earned him the attention of outlets like NPR, explores the struggles of homosexuality in small-town life, making him one of the first Applachian voices to do so.
Sammy Brue
Getting the attention of outlets like The FADER and Rolling Stone at the wee age of 14 thanks to some stellar at-home recordings, Sammy Brue, a Utah-by-the-way-of-Portland songwriter who pals around with Justin Townes Earle and has the songwriting chops to boot, is about as DIY as you can get.
Julien Baker
While many hear the word "punk" and think angry, Julien Baker — who wrote most of her stellar debut album, Sprained Ankle, in her dorm room at MTSU — reminds us it has a sad side, too, one that is as thoughtful as it is emotive.
Stephen Colbert Is Late Night’s Roots Music Champion
Getting a coveted performance slot on a late-night TV show is no easy task. Unless you have a Billboard hit or the last name Bieber, odds are you won't make it onto what's become some of television's most prime musical real estate. For roots musicians, that means fewer shots at late-night stardom and fewer chances to reach the wide audiences such performances award. But luckily, The Late Show's Stephen Colbert is changing the game, championing up-andcoming roots musicians and introducing their music to his legions of loyal fans.
We've rounded up some of our favorite roots performances from The Late Show below. Check 'em out!
Kacey Musgraves, "Late to the Party"
Kacey Musgraves is no small star, so it's not as much of a surprise that Colbert would invite her to the stage to perform "Late to the Party," one of the standout tracks from her sophomore album Pageant Material.
John Moreland, "Break My Heart Sweetly"
John Moreland, however, is a surprise — Colbert gave the talented Oklahoma singer/songwriter his network television debut when he invited him to perform this track from 2013's In the Throes (despite Moreland releasing High on Tulsa Heat last year) earlier this month.
Lake Street Dive, "Call Off Your Dogs"
Lake Street Dive is a big name in the roots community, but their reach doesn't extend far beyond the genre's boundaries. Colbert had them over anyway, and the Brooklyn quartet got to wow the audience with this tune from Side Pony.
Margo Price, "Hurtin' (On the Bottle)"
The first country signee to Jack White's famed Third Man Records, Margo Price may not be a household name yet, but it's only a matter of time before she is. This performance of her debut single on The Late Show is sure to be part of what seals that deal.
Aubrie Sellers, "Light of Day"
Daughter of Lee Ann Womack, Aubrie Sellers is no stranger to the late-night circuit, although this performance on Colbert was the first time she was the one gracing the stage, performing a cut from her debut album New City Blues.
Wilco, "Random Name Generator"
Okay, so maybe a band as big as Wilco doesn't exactly need a television champion, but it's great to see them hit the stage to perform this tune from 2015's Star Wars nonetheless.
Lucinda Williams, "Dust"
Finally, don't miss this stunning performance from Lucinda Williams of a poem by her father (the late poet Miller Williams) that she reinterpeted and set to music to serve as the opening track for her stellar new album The Ghosts of Highway 20.
