Artist:Rebecca Lynn Howard Hometown: Salyersville, Kentucky Latest Album:I’m Not Who You Think I Am (out May 2, 2025) Personal Nicknames (or rejected band names): My family and friends call me Aunt B
What has been the best advice you’ve received in your career so far?
The best advice I’ve ever received is to tell the truth, no matter how hard, no matter how messy. People don’t connect with perfection, they connect with honesty. When I started writing from that place, everything changed. Music became more than just a craft. It became a way to heal, not just for me but for my fans too.
What’s the toughest time you ever had writing a song?
Honestly, the hardest songs to write are the ones I need to write the most. There was a time after my dad passed away when I couldn’t write at all. Every time I tried, it felt like I was staring into this giant void of grief and I didn’t have the words to make sense of it. Eventually, I stopped trying to force it and just let myself feel everything. When I finally sat down to write again, the song came out in one sitting. It was like the words had been there, waiting for me to be ready.
Which elements of nature do you spend the most time with and how do those impact your work?
Water, hands down! There’s something about being near water, whether it’s the ocean, a river, or even just a hard rain that takes away the noise in my head. It’s where I think the clearest and where my best lyrics come from. It helps me know that everything moves in seasons, especially the hard things.
If you were a color, what shade would you be – and why?
I’d be a deep blue… the kind that’s somewhere between dusk and the ocean just before a storm. That kind of blue is my favorite color cause it holds a lot of depth, beauty, a little bit of sadness, but also an understated kind of strength.
Since food and music go so well together, what is your dream pairing of a meal and a musician?
I’d love to sit down to a slow, home-cooked Southern meal. Something warm and comforting, like my mom’s homemade biscuits and honey butter, with a side of conversations about Jesus. And the perfect soundtrack? Probably someone like Johnny Cash or Brandi Carlile. Something raw – and real – and full of stories.
Consult the comments section of any Martina McBride music video and you will find paragraph-length, highly personal expressions of adversity and triumph. These entries are varied, but often take the form of earnest tributes to lost loved ones, painful confessions of romantic loneliness or haunting stories of abuse and neglect. It’s a testament to the power of McBride’s voice – that inimitable instrument that arguably did more than anyone else’s to popularize the wide, throaty belt style now common among female country singers – that her songs still provoke such intensely emotional reactions.
It also speaks to her choice of material. Many of McBride’s best-loved songs operate on a grand emotional scale, and she has singularly foregrounded issues of domestic violence and child abuse in her work. But even as social issues songs largely define her legacy, she has most often recorded love songs, approaching them with the same shrewdness and self-assurance that colors her most celebrated work.
Take, for example, “Safe in the Arms of Love,” a number four hit from 1995’s Wild Angels. Written by female songwriting trio Mary Ann Kennedy, Pam Rose and Pat Bunch, “Safe in the Arms of Love” was originally released in 1986 by Wild Choir, a short-lived country-rock outfit fronted by Gail Davies. More new wave than country, the Wild Choir version features a prominent bassline, heavy drums and synths, and little of the warmth or joy that McBride’s would bring to the song years later. McBride’s version is twangier and more streamlined, trading the original’s raw energy for country-pop polish and sunny bursts of fiddle and mandolin.
The first line of “Safe in the Arms of Love” is bracing, almost a cliche but not quite: “My heart’s not ready for the rocking chair.” It’s an off-kilter choice of words, immediately followed by a clarification: “I need somebody who really cares.” This first couplet sets the rules for the rest of the song, which moves between metaphor and straight-ahead, conversational lyricism as McBride voices her desire for a stabilizing partnership.
An avowed hater of “wimpy woman” and “doormat” songs, McBride brings a resolve that makes clear she isn’t looking to be rescued. Rather, like the narrator of Lucinda Williams’ “Passionate Kisses” – a number four country hit for Mary Chapin Carpenter in 1992 — she’s simply voicing her desires. (It’s no accident that the song’s chorus begins with the words I want.) McBride’s delivery is confident, never beseeching or desperate. Do we ever doubt she’ll achieve her romantic goals?
The song’s music video takes place in a circus-themed fantasy world inhabited by Cirque du Soleil performers dressed as children’s entertainers. There is, notably, no love interest in sight. In fact, men rarely figure in McBride’s videos, at least not as love objects. The men in her videos tend to appear only in glimpses, as with the abusive husband and father figures in “Independence Day” and “Concrete Angel,” flashes of motion that connote menace. In the videos for her love songs, she is more often than not alone, less a protagonist than a guide figure.
Consider the video for “Wild Angels” – filmed for whatever reason in a black and white, vérité style – which locates Martina on the roof of the Clock Tower Building in downtown Manhattan. The song is ostensibly about a couple whose bond prevails through thick and thin, but the video instead captures a group of citydwellers being visited by a mystical being. Then there’s the video for “My Baby Loves Me,” which features a barefoot Martina twirling in a floral dress as various, smiling couples pose behind an empty picture frame. (John McBride, Martina’s husband and long-time business partner, has a split-second cameo at the end of the video.)
Both “Wild Angels” and “My Baby Loves Me” continue the theme of the empowered love song. The rootsier “Wild Angels” presents a smartly egalitarian vision of love, with McBride expressing disbelief at her good fortune in finding such balance. “Somehow we wake up in each other’s arms,” she shrugs in the second verse before chalking it up to divine intervention in the song’s lofty, joyous chorus. The title track and opening song on McBride’s third album, “Wild Angels” also features the sound of McBride’s then-infant daughter Delaney giggling, a nod to the McBrides’ real-life love story and an indicator of how McBride would continue to foreground motherhood in her work.
Where “Safe in the Arms of Love” finds McBride searching for unconditional love, “My Baby Loves Me” takes the perspective of a woman who already has it. The song offers a typically country approach to beauty: fashion magazines, high heels, fancy clothes… who needs ‘em! It’s less feminist-presenting than, say, Shania Twain’s “Any Man of Mine,” but sets up a similar dynamic: This man is totally enthralled by me. In this country-pop version of the world, women run the show and men are their biggest cheerleaders.
Such was the utopian impulse of ‘90s country, particularly in the latter half of the decade, when a handful of female stars topped the charts nearly as often as their male peers and frequently sold more records. McBride was central to this moment and though she never quite reached the crossover heights of Twain or Faith Hill, she remained a steady presence on country radio even as the format purged female voices in the aughts and the wake of 9/11. She was in fact the only female country artist to notch a solo No. 1 during the entirety of 2002, a feat that wouldn’t be repeated until Gretchen Wilson took “Redneck Woman” to the top of the charts three years later. (This fact has depressing echoes of today’s hyper-masculine radio environment, in which it is nearly impossible for a woman to hit No. 1, even with the help of a male duet partner.)
To her detractors, McBride’s great sin at the turn of the millennium was her shift toward the smooth sounds of Adult Contemporary. She found great success in this format with “This One’s for the Girls” and “In My Daughter’s Eyes,” two hits from 2003’s Martina that reached No. 1 and No. 3, respectively. Critics have accused her of making “music for soccer moms,” an elitist term that equates suburban women with unrefined taste.
It’s true that McBride has at times leaned into inoffensive pop balladry, most successfully on “Valentine,” her hyper-smooth collaboration with pianist Jim Brickman that was her first brush with Adult Contemporary success in 1997. But to dismiss McBride’s music — which, yes, includes her honeyed love songs — as frothily unserious is to do a disservice to one of country’s great risk-takers. “Valentine” may not be hard-shell honky-tonk (for that, see cuts like “Cheap Whiskey” or her 2005 classic-country covers album, Timeless) but its softness isn’t a reason to reject it outright. It’s a symptom of country music’s eternal, exhausting authenticity debate that pop-leaning love songs, often the exact songs that allow women to break through country radio’s gender barrier and find commercial success, continue to be written off as superficial.
To be fair, not all of McBride’s more commercial instincts are brilliantly rendered; “I Love You” still smacks of a “This Kiss” retread, while “There You Are” is bland even as piano ballads go. But for every “I Love You” or “There You Are,” there’s an “I’m Gonna Love You Through It,” a 2011 cut about a breast cancer survivor who finds strength in the selfless love of her husband.
With its sweeping, string-laden sound, “I’m Gonna Love You Through It” risks being the kind of “soccer mom” fodder that McBride and her female peers have long been dinged for. But it’s also lyrically sober and undeniably moving, the kind of serious story song that has all but disappeared from the format. The song gave McBride her last top ten country hit and final GRAMMY nomination to date, for Best Country Solo Performance. (In one of the music industry’s great injustices, McBride has 14 GRAMMY nominations and zero wins.)
“Just take my hand, together we can do it,” McBride sings in the chorus, returning to the egalitarian vision of love that made her ‘90s work so disarming. Here, as in “Wild Angels,” McBride sees love not as a negation of self but rather as a mutual source of empowerment. Is it any wonder that her songs endure?
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Photo Credit: Martina McBride courtesy of Red Light Management.
With a voice that shimmers like sunlight on a rippling lake and songs that step deftly through ever-shifting emotional terrain, Kim Richey is the queen of understated finesse. On her latest album, Every New Beginning, she carefully tempers the ache of loss with moments of humor and even optimism. Produced by Doug Lancio (Patty Griffin, John Hiatt) and containing collaborations with Don Henry, Mando Saenz, Jay Knowles, Aaron Lee Tasjan, and Brian Wright, among others, it provides yet another elegantly nuanced reminder of why other singer-songwriters revere her talents.
Dozens of country and Americana artists have invited her to sing on their albums and/or recorded her songs or ones they co-wrote, including Rodney Crowell, Vince Gill, Martina McBride, Patty Loveless, Will Kimbrough, Chuck Prophet, the Chicks, and Brooks & Dunn. Radney Foster had a No. 2 hit with their co-write, “Nobody Wins;” Richey earned a Grammy nomination for co-writing Trisha Yearwood’s No. 1 song, “Believe Me Baby (I Lied).”
In October, she’ll open the final show of Jason Isbell’s annual Ryman Auditorium residency; last year, she helped celebrate the 10th anniversary of his career-making Southeastern album by reprising her vocal contributions. During Brandi Carlile’s solo-set debut at the 2019 30A Songwriters Festival, she spotted Richey and declared, “Kim Richey has been my hero since I was 16!” Citing the Ohio-born East Nashville resident as a major influence, Carlile beckoned Richey onstage to sing “A Place Called Home.” Turns out that wasn’t the first time — and, as Richey notes in this interview, conducted during her recent U.K. tour, it wouldn’t be the last.
Listening to these songs, one could assume this is a breakup album. But you’ve mentioned that songs like “Take the Cake” aren’t necessarily about a specific person. Are there breakups reflected within these songs?
Kim Richey: People always assume they’re breakup songs. [The “Feel This Way” line], “It hurts like it’s always gonna feel this way” — my mom passed away in November. It can be the loss of a friend, the loss of a family member, or it’s just a lot of looking back. COVID really had an effect on me that way, and maybe a lot of people as well, where I had old friends getting in touch out of the blue, and people taking stock, and that’s stuck with me.
You could hear “Feel This Way” as a song about grief or even generalized depression, which certainly doesn’t have to be precipitated by an event.
Or [the song] “A Way Around,” it’s like, “Oh, man, things are not going my way.” It can be general. That’s a great thing about songs; people can have their own interpretation of them and it can connect with them and help them. Maybe it’s something that they’re going through, which was not necessarily my intention when I wrote it, if that makes any sense. If I’m going through a hard time, it’s just nice to hear a song and think, “They know exactly how I feel.” You don’t feel alone.
I think that’s one of the major functions of songs — giving us something to connect to, even if it’s just to pull the tears out. Sometimes that’s all you have when you’re feeling like that. But let’s talk about something that must have been a really happy time: Brandi’s Girls Just Wanna Weekend in Mexico. Was that the first time you got invited, or the first time it worked out to go?
I actually did get invited a couple of years ago, but I’d already promised my parents I was going somewhere with them. But this was getting organized while my mom was in the hospital and everything, so I went down [in January] not really having any idea what to expect. When I got there, they asked if I could come to the rehearsal for Ladies of the ’80s, so I go to the rehearsal, and there’s Annie Lennox. And that was just the start of me crying the entire weekend.
Then I got to meet Wendy & Lisa, and Wendy was so sweet. And when the four of us — Brandy Clark, Brandi Carlile, Mary Chapin [Carpenter] and myself — were onstage playing songs, the crowd was so overwhelmingly amazing that Chapin and I just sat up there and cried in-between songs. It was absolutely one of the most intense and beautiful musical experiences, really, ever, for me. It’s hard to explain the vibe of it. The feel of the festival is so inclusive, and so kind and fun. I’ve never been to anything like that before.
Brandi’s always been really great to me. Like that year of the Pilgrimage Festival, that’s right outside of Nashville, got rained out [2018], her people called City Winery and said “Hey, can we come there and play?” and they packed it out. I had just gotten home from a tour and she texted and said, “Hey, you want to come and play with me tonight?” and I’m thinking, “Absolutely not. I don’t know who you are. I’m in a bathrobe, and I’m gonna watch TV and do absolutely nothing.” I texted back and said, “Who is this?” And it was Brandi and it’s like, “OK, I’ll be right over!”
I love seeing your Instagram traveling pictures. It seems like you seek out interesting places wherever you go. Is that something you’ve always done?
I always want to explore the places where I go, whether it’s a big famous place or some town nobody’s ever heard of. I don’t want to sit in a hotel. I like to find the local great food or coffee or something. One of my most favorite parts about doing music and playing shows is the touring and getting to go and see all these different places. It doesn’t have to be some really exotic place, because one of the things I love about touring in the states is you get to see some of these smaller towns and out-of-the-way places that you would never go to on purpose, because you don’t even know they’re there. I’ve found some fantastic restaurants and sites and hiking places; there’s all kinds of fantastic places in the states. Like, I love Michigan, the Great Lakes; that’s beautiful.
That brings me to the song about your home state, “Goodbye Ohio,” which you describe as “a leaving song.” Do you still have ties there?
Well my mom’s gone, but my stepdad still lives in Ohio and I’ve got my cousins and auntie. I still have a lot of people in Ohio. I go back up there pretty regularly.
So it’s not bittersweet to go home.
Oh, no, no, no. I got all the time in the world for Ohio. I like the people there. It’s very Midwest, and I like that. It’s interesting, too, because the different parts of Ohio are really different, like Southeastern Ohio has more in common probably with West Virginia. And then when you get further up toward Cleveland and Akron, that’s more Northeast-y vibes. It’s great; it’s got a lot going on.
What are some other destinations you would recommend?
I love Glasgow, that’s always been one of my most favorite places. Mostly these days, I’m not in a [tour] bus, I’m in a car or a van. You actually can see all these places you’re driving through, and then you have the ability to go, “Hey, what’s that weird shop there? Let’s pull in and see what that is.” When you’re on a bus, you’re just [taking] the quickest and easiest way to get from one point to the other. So I’ve really enjoyed that part of traveling in a car.
I’ll tell you someplace I just went that was absolutely amazing. My friend Dean Tidey was playing guitar with me and we had a couple days off on the West Coast, so we went to Sequoia National Park and stayed for a couple days in this Airbnb that was right on this beautiful mountain stream. And since it was still early springtime, there weren’t a lot of people there. There was still snow on the ground. I love doing stuff like that. The more I travel, the more I want to see. And the more I travel, the more I know there’s just so much stuff out there to experience and see.
Gosh, I’ve been all over the place. I love London; I lived here for five years. I love Belfast. I got to go to Croatia last year on a boat trip with the Accidentals, and that was amazing.
I love that band! Tell me how you wound up on a boat trip with them.
Well, they asked me to come along. It was a fan trip, and we played and slept on the boat and went to these different harbors. We docked in a different place every night – it was just a cool trip. There were bike rides; there was a lot of swimmin’. We went to Dubrovnik and toured different cities; we were all over the place. And I had no idea. I didn’t think of that as being a Mediterranean country. The food is fantastic. The people were super, super nice. I really loved being there.
You have such a great body of work, and younger artists who appreciate that, and appreciate you, they’re hooking into you and having you play. It seems so important for that kind of give-and-take to happen, in both directions.
It’s great for me, because I get excited about stuff. I love writing with Aaron Lee. He used to live just across the alley from me, so that’s how I got to know him. He’s definitely one of my favorites and one of the most talented musicians and songwriters. He’s great with lyrics and music, the whole deal, and a brilliant player. So it’s fun for me, too, to find somebody new that I really love writing with. It’s one of my favorite things, to write with other people.
Is there anything else you want to talk about?
Well, I would like to like thank the guys who played on the record, especially Doug Lancio, who did so much great work. He played most every string thing aside from when Aaron Lee played on a couple songs. And we had [bassist/mandolinist] Lex Price, who I’ve been wanting to work with for a long time. And Dan Mitchell and Neilson Hubbard; I’ve been playing with those guys for years. And the Accidentals came and put strings on a couple songs. So I just really want to give a shout out to the musicians, and my songwriting friends.
One song, “The World Is Flat” is an old one that I wrote with Peter Vetesse. He lives in Bristol, [England], and we played and he came and we got to play the song that we wrote together. I just never recorded it because it was so sad. I have a lot of sad songs, but there’s always a little kernel of something [positive]; “The World Is Flat” was like, you’ve just kind of given up. But the demo that he made was so beautiful, I just thought if I never make another record, I want people to hear that song.
You just said, “If I never make another record” – obviously, we hope that’s not true. Do you feel like you’re at a point now where you think in those terms?
A little bit. I do enjoy playing, but [touring is] tough physically. But I love to travel and I have super-close friends over here, in New York, in Washington state. Playing and touring allows me to go and spend time with those people. I do love playing for people and writing songs and making records, so we’ll see. I don’t know how much longer I’ll do it. This could be my last record, but you don’t want to say it is, because you never know.
The Great American Songbook of country music is a vast terrain to cherish and celebrate. So vast, in fact, that to narrow it down into one playlist of favorite “picks” is an incredible challenge! That said, I’m sharing here a selection of songs that are some of my all-time favorite lyrics and melodies. (The kind of songs you’d take with you to a desert island.) When you look through this list, it is no doubt that you’ll agree: each one of these songs rightly deserves its space in the pages of 20th century American music history for the mark the songwriters and the musical icons performing them have made. The generations these songs have touched (and hopefully will continue to touch)… the audiences moved by performances, in some cases to tears… all from the impact of a single song. Amazing!
As I hope to do with my Songbook series of recordings, my artistic path honors these songwriters and musical icons in reimagining these songs in a new way, offering an inspired interpretation of some of these classic songs (as you’ll see below). I hope you enjoy a slice of what I like to call “My American Songbook.” — Staci Griesbach
Dolly Parton – “Coat of Many Colors”
Dolly Parton’s “Coat of Many Colors” celebrates its 50th anniversary in 2021, and in my mind, there may be no more perfect storytelling song with a purpose in all of country music. Through the lyrics, Dolly approaches some important underlying themes in her message with this song. From humble beginnings to the love of a mother to encouraging self-talk and faith to the discussion of bullying, this song is so inspiring no matter where you live or what your upbringing was like. Coupled with her incredible human compassion and all she does with her celebrity to make the world a better place, Parton continues to be awesomely inspiring. For my interpretation, we played up the whimsical nature with the Joseph and the Amazing Technicolor Dreamcoat reference to also celebrate Dolly’s immense talent in the Broadway space. Fun fact: I was once “Narrator” in the musical production, so there’s a special sort of kismet connection!
Willie Nelson – “Blue Eyes Crying in the Rain”
When a song is recorded by Hank Williams, Roy Acuff, Willie Nelson, and probably hundreds of other artists, you may wish your name was songwriter and country music legend Fred Rose. Willie Nelson’s voice and this song pair so well for me. It’s his renditions — especially the live acoustic ones where he brings the tempo down — that are my favorite.
Patsy Cline – “Crazy”
If you’re going to do a playlist about country music standards, then this one has got to be on the list and perhaps top the list. As the most-played jukebox hit in history, the combination of Willie Nelson’s pen and Patsy Cline’s voice makes for a combination that never gets old.
Merle Haggard – “That’s the Way Love Goes”
Merle Haggard could sing the phone book to me, and I’d fall in love. This classic Haggard tune shows off some of his trademark moves, hitting the low notes with a sense of natural charm that could arguably make any gal swoon. His influence from Lefty Frizzell, who penned the song and had a strong arm in shaping many of country music’s early male voices in terms of style, is clear.
Anne Murray – “Could I Have This Dance”
I’m a sucker for a country waltz and the romantic in me gets caught up in this lyric every time I hear it. While the vocal is more modest in range and dynamic, it’s the sweetness of the tune that makes it feel like you’ve just put on your favorite winter sweater and nestled up to the fireplace.
George Jones – “He Stopped Loving Her Today”
Classified by many as the greatest country song of all time, it’s an exemplary tale of great songwriting paired with incredible talent. The song, the lyrics, and the vocal performance George Jones gives in this tear-stained ballad can’t possibly leave a dry eye in the room, no matter how many times you’ve heard the recording! This was the first song we tackled for my album celebrating Possum’s 90th birthday, and I was thrilled when songwriter Bobby Braddock shared his praise. In my cover version, arranger Jeremy Siskind arguably created a stage for this song to really sit in a spotlight it has never been in before.
Ernest Tubb – “Waltz Across Texas”
Listening to this song play as a young girl, I used to dream of being swept off my feet in love someday, filled with the imagery of waltzing across a big ballroom with someone serenading me. When Ernest Tubb calls out his band members, it feels like you’re right in the room listening as they’re playing. I’ve always enjoyed his iconic characteristics in his sense of showmanship.
Patsy Cline – “Walkin’ After Midnight”
Several songs in Patsy Cline’s catalog can be called standards in country music and this is one of them. A favorite for many girl singers who adore her, Patsy’s swagger comes through in her bluesy vocal performance adding just the right touch of cry to connect us with her desire for finding love. For my cover version, also from arranger and pianist Jeremy Siskind, the song offers more of a meditative groove creating a moodiness that implores a sense of searching matching the lyrics with a more internal reflection.
Ray Price -–”Make the World Go Away”
The great Hank Cochran had a way with songwriting and that’s no secret. One of my favorite songwriters in Nashville history. His songs create a lasting impression, especially this one recorded by Eddy Arnold, Elvis Presley, Martina McBride, and the late great Ray Price.
Tammy Wynette – “‘Til I Can Make it On My Own”
When you put Tammy Wynette, George Richie, and Billy Sherrill in a room, you know a hit song will find its way out of the door. Wynette’s performance is simply stunning here, and this song really showcases her dynamic range as a vocalist. I also really enjoy Martina McBride’s cover on her standards tribute album.
Merle Haggard – “Today I Started Loving You Again”
The poetic nature of Merle Haggard’s catalog cannot be questioned, and while he’s known as the poet of the common man, it’s his love songs that have me right in the palm of his hand. Penned along with Bonnie Owens, this song might top the Haggard catalog for me.
Dolly Parton – “Here You Come Again”
Only recently I became aware that this song was written by the great Cynthia Weil and Barry Mann. I’ve always associated the song with Dolly, and with her incredible songwriting prowess, it was a natural assumption. This is definitely one of my favorite songs in Dolly’s catalog. For my cover, which is the flip side of my Digital 45 with “Coat of Many Colors,” Jeremy Siskind and I explored a ballad context to really bring out the emotional quality of the lyrics and the feelings that bubble up when you’re so in love with someone and forget for a moment that they’re not good for you.
Hank Williams – “Cold, Cold Heart
There’s a lure around Hank Williams like no other in country music. And it’s no surprise when you listen to Williams’ catalog why George Jones and so many others looked up to and tried to emulate Williams at the beginning of their careers. A true country music standard for its number of covers (including Tony Bennett), I’m a huge fan of Norah Jones’ performance.
Patsy Cline – “Lonely Street”
From Kitty Wells, Melba Montgomery, and Emmylou Harris to Ray Price, George Jones, and Tammy Wynette, this song has been recorded many times over. While Andy Williams’ version might have hit the highest notes on Billboard’s charts, it’s Patsy Cline’s heartache-filled performance that is my favorite version. There were a few of her classic hits that didn’t make my tribute album and this one might top that list.
Kris Kristofferson – “Help Me Make it Through the Night”
The stories of Kris Kristofferson and Bill Withers have always touched me in the fact that both of them were working everyday jobs (sweeping floors and working at an airplane parts factory respectively) when their demos catapulted them into the spotlight. I’ve seen Mr. Kristofferson perform this live a few times and my heart melts every time.
The first time hearing Stevie Nicks was at the ripe age of 11. The inflection and mystery of her essence molded me from the moment I heard her voice. That furthered when I saw how she wore clothes. The record was Trouble in Shangri-La and it still hits me on a deep emotional level.
What’s your favorite memory from being on stage?
My favorite memories that come to mind are the moments that I’m singing with my family. We’ve sung from stages to living rooms, to share the spirit. There’s nothing more special than family harmony.
If you had to write a mission statement for your career, what would it be?
My daily mission in life is to spread love. “Be kind to yourself, be kind to others.”
Since food and music go so well together, what is your dream pairing of a meal and musician?
The pairing of musician a meal would be soup beans, wieners, kraut and cornbread with my momma singing and playing the piano. Comfort food in every sense of the expression.
What was the first moment that you knew you wanted to be a musician?
When I heard Martina McBride on GAC, singing “A Broken Wing.” I’d pull out my dads video camera and perform that song with my best efforts. When you grow up around a family of singers and players — it’s a natural pull to want to do the same. I’m not sure if my 7-year-old brain had an epiphany or I just desperately wanted to mimic her voice.
It was far from a given that Joy Oladokun would settle on her present path as a singer-songwriter of pensive folk-pop. She absorbed an array of musical models earlier in life — those that culturally linked her family to their Nigerian roots; reflected the rural pride of her peers in agriculture-rich Arizona; united her evangelical congregation in upward-aimed worship; and offered various styles of self-expression, emotional catharsis or social critique.
But on her texturally varied second album, in defense of my own happiness (vol. 1), much of which she self-produced, she sketches the distance between where she stands, sorting out her sources of pain, anxiety, and pleasure, and what she’s chosen to leave behind. Throughout, she’s exploring knotty interiority with warm yet watchful vulnerability. Oladokun paused her daily songwriting schedule to talk with BGS about how she made her way here.
BGS: After your parents immigrated to the U.S., did they maintain an attachment to traditional or contemporary Nigerian music and share it with you?
My parents came here in the ‘80s, so the Nigerian music they listened to growing up is definitely still a part of their everyday life today. I think one of my first introductions to the guitar was this Nigerian artist named King Sunny Adé, just these crazy, cascading, arpeggiated guitar riffs. They’re not as in touch with contemporary Nigerian music, but Nigeria had a pretty rich and interesting musical history.
You’ve said in past interviews that you grew up in an Arizona farming town that prized folk and country music. What role did that music actually play in community life?
There is not a music scene to speak of in Casa Grande, Arizona, that is for sure. My high school was big into Future Farmers of America. Lots of big trucks and dairy farms, that vibe is the vibe of my town. Some of the country I wasn’t very interested in, but I had a short fascination with ‘90s country. I mean, Martina McBride, Alan Jackson, Brooks & Dunn, it’s a lot, but in a good way. Everyone around me was listening to ‘90s country.
And my dad, for some reason, has an affinity for country-gospel music. He has all these records of Johnny Cash or Charley Pride, all these different people singing old country-gospel standards. So there’s this dusty, Southwestern country sound that I also grew up around that I think is the country that I gravitate to now, more than the big trucks and farms.
Along with hearing King Sunny Adé’s playing, you’ve said that seeing concert footage of Tracy Chapman with acoustic guitar in hand really caught your attention. What was it about those moments that moved you to pick up the instrument yourself?
I was always a really shy and reserved kid, and pretty smart, but had a hard time focusing or applying myself for long amounts of time. I think what I found in myself when I saw the guitar and decided to learn, and what my family saw in me, was a determination that hadn’t been applied to anything else ever.
I just know that the gift of self-expression that it’s given me has been pretty lifesaving. King Sunny Adé and Tracy Chapman, those are two very different expressions of how to use the guitar and how to make music, but they both took the inner workings of themselves and the world around them, and they expressed it through the music they made. I think that’s pretty dope and especially appealing to a kid who has a hard time talking.
Since you were so shy, how did you wind up playing music in front of a congregation?
If you wanted to get me to do anything as a kid, convince me that it would make God happy, or if I didn’t do it, God would be upset. That’s a pretty good motivator to any kid, but especially for me. I think I was so driven because I was so enmeshed in Christian culture. I was driven by this narrative of, “You need to do something big with your life and you can’t just spectate. You have to participate.” I honestly think had I been a little atheist in middle school, or had language been different, I maybe wouldn’t have ever done it or stepped on a stage. But I think it was the, “I feel this duty to use my gift for something bigger than myself.”
What did it take for you to leave behind what you thought might be a lasting career path in praise & worship music?
I often laugh at how much my adult life parallels my mother’s. Growing up, she would always tell this story about how her dad really wanted her to be a teacher. She spent a year or so teaching school and freaking hated it. So she became a nurse and she still does that to this day. I think I honored the thing that is spiritual in myself by working at a church and by falling in line and doing the thing for as long as I did. When I realized, “OK, I’m queer. There’s no getting around that. And I maybe don’t believe these things politically or theologically that I sometimes said on a day-to-day basis.”
I just got to a place where it became more important for me to live a life of integrity on all fronts than to keep up appearances or do what I thought God or my parents or my old boss wanted me to do. When I left, I made the decision pretty much on my own. And in circles like that, that is a no-no. I think the reason I did step into it by myself, though, is because I have to live this life. I would rather pursue something that feels more authentic to me. And once that decision was made, then the career decision was easy. I honestly tie it back to hearing my mom every day since I was born tell the story of how she made that decision for herself.
These days you’re signed to the Nashville office of a publishing company, operating in a world with its own customs and practices when it comes to being creative and collaborative. How’d you adjust to things like co-writing?
I honestly don’t think the worlds are that different, or maybe just people are the same. I do write a considerable amount by myself, so co-writing was maybe the biggest leap that I’ve made into discomfort. To me, even if I have a bad session, there is something that can be learned or gleaned or laughed about from it. If someone has a bad ego during a write it’s, “OK, I’m not going to work with that person again.”
You chose a loaded title for this album, in defense of my own happiness (vol. 1). What were you getting at?
Every time I post something on Instagram or Twitter or Facebook that someone from my past dislikes, I hear about it. I didn’t realize that that was a strange practice until I was talking to my girlfriend. She was like, “That’s so bizarre that people you worked with five years ago still feel the need to tell you that they’re disappointed in you, or say that they’re praying that you’ll become straight again one day.”
It is the source of a lot of my anxiety, to be honest. I don’t regret anything that I am or anything that I’m doing, but there’s this part of me that wants to defend that who I am is good. So many of the songs we ended up picking for the album speak to that. I think the idea of in defense of my own happiness is, it’s maybe an open letter to all these people.
Also it’s a letter to myself saying, “You deserve this life. You deserve to have a girlfriend who loves you and live in a beautiful house, and you deserve to be working a job that you enjoy. You’ve made mistakes, but none of that disqualifies you from what you found.” The album is literally just, “Please let me live.”
As much as I hear you insisting on your right to happiness on the album, I can also hear you sitting with your melancholy, and not hurrying past it.
I don’t know that there’s any other way to actually be happy or healthy without acknowledging how you’ve been hurt in the past, who you’ve hurt in the past, acknowledging the things that you don’t understand or the things that scare you, and sitting with them. I’ve been doing a lot of meditation, because it’s 2020 and the world’s on fire. I was reading a quote about how emotions and our thoughts, we should entertain them as friends, as opposed to treating them as these things that we can’t control. I do feel like melancholy is like a friend that I entertained on this record.
That definitely applies to your song “Who Do I Turn To?” Tell me about the choice you made to phrase the chorus as one long, uncomfortable, unresolved question.
I credit the open-endedness of it to Natalie Hemby, who I wrote the song with. I am a big fan of open-ended things, but I think I wanted an answer. I wanted to write a protest song. I think Natalie could see in my face just the heaviness and the sadness. I was, like, four months old when the LA riots happened, and the fact that we’re still marching for the same thing in 2020 is so bizarre. It’s so heartbreaking. Black people have been showing up for themselves from the beginning of time, countless Civil Rights leaders and movements.
Even to this day, you can point to people like Angela Davis that are alive and doing the work. But we are a minority group, so we cannot be the only people doing the work to protect and honor our lives, especially in this climate. It became open-ended because it’s like, “You keep saying that it’s not your fault, but you let your grandpa make racist remarks while I’m at dinner.” There’s all these little actions and behaviors that play into it. Leaving it open-ended just allows people to think and reflect.
As we celebrate LGBTQ+ Pride, let’s go “Over the Rainbow.” The amount of artists that have covered this song (written by Harold Arlen and Yip Harburg) is practically innumerable — and of course Judy Garland’s version from 1939’s The Wizard of Oz is the emerald standard. Yet we looked behind the curtain and found 10 roots, country, and folk-tinged versions that we think stand at the top of the heap. What’s your favorite version?
Eva Cassidy
This acoustic cover of “Over the Rainbow” made Eva Cassidy a star, but it didn’t happen until five years after her death in 1996 when a homemade video was shown on BBC’s Top of the Pops 2.
Willie Nelson
Why are there so many songs about rainbows? Willie chose Somewhere Over the Rainbow as the title of his 25th studio album, featuring 1940s pop standards, released in 1981.
Tommy Emmanuel
Officially released in 2004, Tommy Emmanuel had been playing this masterful solo version for years. He says he adapted this arrangement from Chet Atkins’ rendition, then allowed it to evolve over time.
Jerry Lee Lewis
Leave it to ol’ Jerry Lee to insert himself into the story. Even without a broomstick, he swept onto the charts with this cool rendition in 1980, giving him Top 10 country hits across four consecutive decades.
Leon Russell with Newgrass Revival
From a 1981 live album, this version smolders with understated keys and the unmistakable voice of Leon Russell. And this trippy video mixes color and black-and-white footage, just like The Wizard of Oz!
Martina McBride
She’s not in Kansas anymore. Released as a single in 2015, Martina sang “Over the Rainbow” on numerous TV broadcasts, including American Idol and the Opry. Give the people what they want!
Chet Atkins, Les Paul
A beautiful instrumental recorded in 1978, Les is on electric, while Chet provides the fingerpicked classical guitar. Look for it on the great and powerful Guitar Monsters album.
Ingrid Michaelson
Released in 2006, Ingrid Michaelson would go on to perform “Over the Rainbow” with a choir of kids from Sandy Hook Elementary School in January 2013. She considers it a “positive and hopeful song.”
Israel Kamakawiwo’ole (“Somewhere Over the Rainbow / What a Wonderful World”)
Perhaps the best-known cover, the singer known simply as ‘Bruddah Iz’ around Hawaii found posthumous fame with this inescapable medley. According to NPR, he recorded the song spontaneously in 1988, intending it to be a demo.
Jake Shimabukuro
Iz isn’t the only contemporary Hawaiian musician to tackle “Over the Rainbow.” Check out this solo version by Shimabukuro, who has been playing ukulele since he was 4 years old. It’ll make you want to tap your heels together.
River Whyless stepped onto the stage at That Tent while the temperature was still bearable, the dust was still minimal, and the sky was bright blue — that signature Tennessee summer haze would come later. Their fiddle and harmonium wafted out over Centeroo like a roots music call to prayer. The BGS stage had begun!
Aaron Lee Tasjan and company took the stage second, with double-drummer power and super-dapper duds. Earlier in the day at the daily press panel, Tasjan referenced iconic one-liner comedian Mitch Hedberg as a personal songwriting influence and inspiration. It seems an unlikely reference point for his rockabilly-infused, hot-and-heavy rock ‘n’ roll, but it all made sense watching him live. There’s a darker, sly, unexpected humor to ALT.
Our longtime friends Mandolin Orange came third, playing with a full band — Emily Frantz in pure white head to toe, looking summery and fresh despite the now-ridiculous temperature, and Andrew Marlin lending festival cred to our entire operation with his rainbow tie-dye tee. They sprinkled old favorites in and among songs from their latest album, Blindfaller.
The crowd had now totally pushed the blanket, beach towel, and inflatable hammock loungers out of the tent, as more and more fans packed the front of the stage for Greensky Bluegrass. Their long jams, lighting design, powerful vocals, and incredible energy brought out the loudest, most raucous cheers and applause from the audience all day. No surprise there! You could hear the crowd roar from almost anywhere in Centeroo.
As Greensky finished their set and exited — to one more round of thunderous applause — dozens of stagehands, artists, and musicians descended, transforming the stage in minutes. The lights came down and the crowd cheered as the Bryan Sutton Band (seriously, could there be a better house band?) tore into a bluegrass medley of “Walkin’ Across This Land” and the burning instrumental “Cricket on the Hearth.” Then, to cheers and hoots and hollers and whistles, Bryan introduced “Andy Bernard” and “Captain Underpants” — aka BGS co-founder and our SuperJam host, Ed Helms. Ed sang Doc Watson’s bluesy “I Am a Pilgrim,” before welcoming back River Whyless to play CCR’s “Fortunate Son.” Baskery, a Swedish Americana (Swedecana?) trio who had performed earlier in the day at the New Music on Tap Lounge were next, performing a bluegrass-tinged, folky cover of Paul Simon’s “Graceland.”
Mandolin Orange returned to the stage and led an epic, all-tent sing along of “Strawberry Wine,” a song perfectly fitting for Bonnaroo. Martina McBride followed, knocking all of us out with her fringed boots and her stunning cover of the Beatles’ “Blackbird,” continuing the sing-along vibe. The night wouldn’t have been complete without a Dolly Parton, Emmylou Harris, Linda Ronstadt Trio cover, so Baskery came back out to join Martina on “Those Memories.” No one in attendance will forget those memories anytime soon!
A couple of bluegrass tunes later and Aaron Lee Tasjan was welcomed back to promptly tear through Todd Snider’s “Pretty Boy” with the Bryan Sutton Band going electric. The incredible Gaby Moreno was next, giving the audience a muah muah muah muah “KISS” — we want more Gaby sings Prince, please!
One of the most moving moments of the night came when Lillie Mae stepped on stage to introduce one of her heroes — the bluegrass living legend, Bobby Osborne. Before he had played or sung a single note the audience applauded for a solid two minutes. Seeing an enormous crowd at a music festival like Bonnaroo acknowledge the talent and impact of Bobby Osborne was outright stunning, but Lillie Mae, Bobby, and Bryan’s three-part harmony on “Beneath Still Waters” was earth-shattering. A long, long round of applause came again. On “Once More” they struck up an amazing three-part blend … once more. At 85, Bobby has still definitely got it and Bonnaroo knew it.
Greensky returned to the stage once again to cover the Boss, rocking it out on “Atlantic City.” Ed called the whole cast back to the stage, Bobby in his bright blue suit and iconic hat, among them. From somewhere in the crowd, someone shouted “Rocky Top!” Others agreed. They knew what was coming. Ed kicked off the Tennessee state song on banjo and Bobby sang the iconic lyrics that he and his brother Sonny first made famous. Not a single person in That Tent or overflowing out of it did not sing along.
For the grand finale, Ed introduced our closing number. Waving U.S. flags on stage, the whole group belted and swayed to the unforgettable, patriotic lyrics of “God Bless the USA.” The climax of the song was not its final chorus, with dramatic stop and crash cymbals though, it was its second chorus, when Gaby Moreno stepped forward and sang in Spanish:
Y a los que murieron por dármela Nunca voy a olvidar Ni a los inmigrantes Que luchan hoy Con coraje, amor y fe Esta tierra es rica en diversidad God bless the USA!
What pride to be from America Where I live in freedom I’ll never forget those who died To give that right to me Nor all the immigrants Who fight today With courage, love and faith This land is rich in diversity God bless the USA!
And if that wasn’t exactly what the world needs right now, then it must need John Mellencamp. Right out of “God Bless the USA,” Bryan Sutton morphed the song into “R.O.C.K in the USA.” Last-minute, surprise guest Margo Price sang a verse and rocked out on tambourine with long-time friend Aaron Lee. The musicians all traded solos, launching a friendly musical battle between Greensky’s Anders Beck and Paul Hoffman, as Gaby and Martina shouted along and U.S. flags still waved. Then, Ed signaled the band to drop out, leaving just the crowd singing, jumping up and down with beach balls flying — and our fifth annual Bluegrass Situation SuperJam hosted by Ed Helms came to a close.
You probably already know about the BGS Stage at Bonnaroo 2017 happening on Sunday, June 11 with Aaron Lee Tasjan, Greensky Bluegrass, Mandolin Orange, and River Whyless. But, once again, we’ll be hosting our fifth roots music SuperJam to close out the last night of ‘roo.
As always, the Bluegrass Situation brings together the best of bluegrass, Americana, folk, and country for a rip-roaring round of fun guests, left-field covers, and classic favorites.
The 2017 BGS SuperJam will be hosted by BGS’s own Ed Helms with the Bryan Sutton House Band and all the artists from our day stage, as well as Gaby Moreno, Martina McBride, Baskery, Lillie Mae, and more.
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