Cottagecore Country

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You can’t have country music without the country. (Us city slickers belong in the genre as artists and fans, of course, but we’ll get to that later.) There is a fundamental relationship between the natural world and folk music, and the artists featured on our cottagecore playlist demonstrate that. Humans have been mapping their emotions onto nature for as long as we’ve been around: so much of our inner life defies explanation, as does our outer world. And while we may find endless ways to make new environments for ourselves, there are few things as moving as a beautiful sunset or gorgeous vista.

While we can’t create those ourselves, we try to make beautiful – and cozy – spaces for ourselves. In creating our homes the way we like, we try to control the world around us – even though we know we can’t. The songs here look to animals and plants as metaphors for the people and emotions we don’t understand, the ones that got away and are beyond our comprehension – the things we can’t control, but we accept as natural as a bird’s migration.

But even as these songs can be melancholy, they inhabit a place of comfort and tradition – cottagecore. The term reached peak popularity in 2020 to describe a movement that celebrates home, attention to detail, nostalgia, cutesiness. (Back in my day, we called it “twee.”) The aesthetic is largely driven by white women who found comfort in going “back to the land” – but a specific type of return, one that celebrates rural life while sugar-coating the backbreaking labor that is actually involved in homesteading.

Like anything that relies on nostalgia, it’s a double-edged sword. Cottagcore has been claimed by some on the alt-right as the desirable expression for women: tending to the hearth, spending time on making beautiful pies, making everyone else around them feel as snug as a bug in a rug. On the other hand, cottagecore became popular in some queer subcultures precisely as a means of subverting that sort of wisdom. Still, cottagecore assumes that this idyllic lifestyle conforms to Eurocentric views of agrarianism, architecture, and holding oneself separate from nature – and some seek to use cottagecore to question that colonizer logic.

At Good Country, we don’t want to take the easy way out. This playlist is designed to embrace the desire for comfort and retreat, one that is all-too-understandable in a chaotic world. But we would never settle for anything simply reactionary, instead wanting to intentionally offer new ways our society must change for our survival. These are songs about awe, acceptance, change – and regeneration, an aspect of the natural world we would do well to embrace.

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Photo Credit: Kacey Musgraves by Kelly Christine Sutton

Ed’s Picks: Country From All Corners

(Editor’s note: Each issue of Good Country, our co-founder Ed Helms will share a handful of good country artists, albums, and songs direct from his own earphones in Ed’s Picks. 

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Moving & Returning

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I bet in the next few years, an expert taxonomist will come by and tell us exactly what country music is – and that this definition will create endless arguments. In the last few months, this argument about what exactly country music is has been growing louder. Jason Isbell has been fucking around with Nashville for decades, playing the field between rock, country, southern rock, country rock, and classic country. (He has recently said that he considers himself a rock singer). Adeem the Artist, the infamous cast iron pansexual, says that they are a folk singer. Willi Carlisle, a folk up-and-comer, has released Critterland, a certainly country album. On the other hand, Maren Morris released two singles last fall which were about burning Nashville to the ground, yet they’re perhaps the most country songs of her career – in terms of how she tells stories, how the bridges work, her vocal tones, and even some of the instrumentation. It seems lately, country is both everything and nothing.

Amanda Fields’ 2023 project deepens this ongoing problem. The album, What, When and Without, is a complex artifact of her own wrestling with genre, history, and biography. It slides into that complex sorting of genre and feeling that is key to Nashville right now. Fields calls this a country album – lushly produced, thick with strings, and dense with vocals, reminding one of an updated countrypolitan record – but sorting out what that means comes with a history of playing and listening.

Fields has a reputation on the bluegrass circuit, often an insular genre with an insistence on a certain kind of purity. She recognized how those questions of purity often don’t pay the bills, and her first major recordings were on a series of bluegrass cover records, called Pickin’ On – recorded by prominent bluegrass studio musicians, there are dozens of them, the artists covered include the expected (Bob Dylan, Johnny Cash), the unusual (Blink 182), to the fully flummoxing (Modest Mouse). Though Fields did not play on all of these records, she talks about them as an integral understanding of herself as part of a musical team: “When I look back on my experience within the ‘genres’ I’ve taken part in, I think about the groups of people I worked with… When I worked on Pickin’ On, I got that gig because of who I was hanging out with and playing music with at the time. I sang ‘gospel’ when I was growing up, because that was the community within my proximity.”

Proximity is a complex question for Fields. She has close ties to the bluegrass community, and there is something intriguing about the idea that genre is a social category – one about who one is near, or what the audience and the performer agrees to participate in. Yet there is a kind of roving that occurs here too; for Fields, roving is both a history of moving around geographically and, as she says here, moving from music that she considers bluegrass or gospel or country.

Fields moved around a lot as a child. Though she was born in Appalachia and currently lives in suburban Nashville (right next to Loretta Lynn’s old house), the line between these two legendary destinations was not direct.

Asking Fields about these roots – expecting a standard line in response – she honestly describes the complexity of her raising: “I’m originally from the mountains and it was my anchor growing up, but my dad moved us around a lot. He was one of those people who felt there was more to life than what was available to us living in that area, so he took job opportunities that carried us away from the mountains. I didn’t like that, because I was always longing to be ‘home’ with the rest of our family. I lived for summers and holidays when I got to be in Virginia and East Tennessee. Playing and listening to country and bluegrass music was my way to experience home when I couldn’t be there physically.”

This moving and returning is a common note for country musicians. Listening to her talk about the juxtaposition of moving, returning, being forced to leave, and finally finding home in an idea more than a place, I am reminded of Tanya Tucker or Merle Haggard. Tucker’s early childhood had a father who moved her from Arizona to Las Vegas to finally Nashville, chasing an acting and singing career. She broke out as a singer who fused a desire for rock and for country. It is similar to Haggard’s talk of moving – to California with his family as a consequence of economic disenfranchisement – and spending the rest of his career chasing economic stability. That idea was perhaps best written about in his tragic ballad “Kern River,” with its opening line, “I grew up in an oil town, but my gusher never came in.” (A Fields original from well before What, When and Without, “Brandywine,” strikes a similar note.)

This connection to Tucker, Haggard, and other classic country singers suggests that Fields landed not necessarily in a place, but as she says, in a music which has tight connections to place. What, When and Without, a classic country album, is infused with this kind of nostalgic listening.

Asked about her relationship to figures like Loretta Lynn or Haggard, she answers carefully: “Most of the music that really stirs my soul is older. I listen to all my friends’ new music and I’m always hunting something fresh to connect with, but on a day-to-day basis, I’m usually listening to the same stuff I’ve always loved. I’m talking Tammy Wynette, Loretta Lynn, Conway Twitty just about everyday. Classic country is what excites me (especially when I discover something I haven’t heard) and those familiar sounds and voices help me regulate my body’s nervous system.”

The album, rooted in those sounds, contains a deep knowledge of genre. Its ability to move between old school country, bluegrass chops, and deep, modern desire is one of its strengths. Figuring out how to sound both modern and historical is something Fields achieves with some skill. If her commitment to genre has a loose, rootless quality – or at least one which floats and lands depending on aesthetic or social need – then how she considers time has a similar quality.

Maybe her early commitment to bluegrass, a genre who remembers more than it forgets, and faces backwards as much as it faces forwards, and which was complicated by how hungry those covers were, suggests one way of bridging eras. But, her recent work, crafting contemporary studio craft with the careful polish of Studio A aesthetics is another. Asking her about memory and nostalgia, she again answers carefully: “One thing that was very intentional with the album was the pace. I think that going slowly is nostalgic in a way, because society and industry move so fast nowadays. I usually walk slowly and I talk slowly compared to most of my peers. My body responds to tempo and dynamics and I wanted to invite the album’s listeners to slow down with me.”

The slowness of the album can be heard in how she starts many of the tracks. There is often an instrumental intro where one waits a significant time for the vocals to be introduced and on occasion there are gaps, where her vocals recede and the band takes over – though the band itself is also quiet. There is a quality, listening to the work, of a kind of courtly two-step, the band asking Fields to dance, and vice versa.

The very first song, “What A Fool,” begins with brushed drums, and has a quite lovely open-ended moment where the pedal steel becomes central. On “I Love You Today,” the old-fashioned cheating song, heartbreak is introduced via an elegant, western swing sound, not outside of Lovett at his best. The last song, “Without You,” plays drums as solid and regular as a heartbeat. It’s another heartbreak song.

The pedal steel is crafted by Russ Pahl, who has been playing for decades. He has been nominated by the Academy of Country Music for his work on the steel guitar three times and for specialty instrument once, between 2004 and 2021. Before that, aside from being an in-demand studio musician, he was part of legendary Great Plains, another band who was excellent at moving between genres, across time, and throughout modes.

Talking to Fields about Pahl, she noted how good he was at not only playing, but matching vibes in the studio: “He came across very quiet and contemplative in the studio and I think he ‘got’ the vibe right away. After a song or two, he said, ‘…this ain’t Zip A dee Doo Dah.’ And it wasn’t. It was an album created in the midst of global pandemic [and] a time of great suffering for society and for myself personally.”

What, When and Without sounds like Fields has had some rough times, even outside of the lockdowns (regardless of how dense the record sounds, there is a yearning in the vocals that have a certain lockdown edge); but there is also an irony in this loneliness. Megan McCormick, who co-wrote on and produced the record and plays in Fields’ band, shows great intimacy throughout the project – there is a reason for this, McCormick and Fields are personal as well as professional partners. They sound good together, and the track where McCormick sings backing vocals, “Moving Mountains,” is the highest energy, most open of the entire record. It’s a great love song – but it’s a love song which calls to Mother Maybelle Carter as an avatar of country music, as a figure outside of space and time, which can tell the narrator how to love after years of heartbreak.

When asked about McCormick, Fields is still a little coy, but her commitment to their lives and sounds is made clear: “She really has a special gift and believing in her as a producer, as well as trusting her intuitions and abilities, has allowed me to grow as an artist. She’s my toughest critic, because that’s what I’ve asked of her. She’s also my constant cheerleader. We thrive when we get to travel together and both enjoy that feeling of being untethered that you get when you’re on the road.”

One can hear some of the untethered quality in Fields’ work, the road as untethering as much as time or genre, but the closeness that she has with McCormick is another kind of tethering, be it a consensual one.

Throughout the album, there is a quality of choosing which traditions are valuable, which are worth keeping, and which ones might have outlived their usefulness. When she talks about her childhood as a Pentecostal, she says: “I am very spiritual, still, and that energy I saw in church growing up is no different than the energy I feel when I’m composing music or playing music with other people with whom I am ‘tuned in.’”

She is definitely tuned with McCormick, their close contribution seen in how they work together – the harmonies without necessarily the negative consequences of some of that church life. She continues: “Those are universal aspects of the human experience that transcend dogma, class, and denomination and that’s what I carry on and value from my experience in church.”

One can see the universal quality in Fields’ work, and it contains interesting juxtapositions. A rootlessness across genre or time, which lands on something contemporary sounding; or a heartbreak record which rests on multiple commitments to one person; or even a religious tradition which widens and deepens.

Maybe we don’t need that taxonomy. An audience knows what a country record is.


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Photo Credit: John Brown

Queer Artists Take Over AmericanaFest 2023

Abundance. If there is one word that comes to mind to describe the presence of LGBTQ+ artists and queer community support at AmericanaFest 2023, that word would be “abundance.”

My first time attending AmericanaFest was in 2021, when one of the only queer events was an inspiring Rainbow Happy Hour showcase presented by Country Queer at Vinyl Tap. We have come incredibly far in the two years since. It feels surreal to witness an abundance of queer artists, showcases and supporters at an Americana music festival and conference. But that magical feeling is rooted in the manifestation and hard work that queer artists and promoters have poured into finding and building our places in Americana music while uplifting LGBTQ+ voices.

This year, we saw many queer events and artists at the Americana Proud showcase, the Americana Honors & Awards, The Equal Access Showcase (presented by CMT, mTheory and Nashville Music Equality), the Queer Cowpoke Roundup, the Good Ol’ Queer Country Jamboree by yours truly, Queerfest and BGS, and many more.

Americana Proud at Nashville City Winery – Tuesday, September 19

On the first night of AmericanaFest, nearly 20 queer-identifying artists graced the stage at Nashville City Winery for two Americana Proud showcases lasting more than three hours. Organized by Autumn Nicholas, a queer artist themselves, it was incredible to take in Americana Proud knowing this was the first of many LGBTQ+ showcases and events to come at this year’s AmericanaFest.

Vidalia Anne Gentry, the dazzling drag queen who hosted the event, opened the show lip-syncing to Dolly Parton’s rendition of “Rocky Top.” Crys Matthews and Heather Mae sang validating, original lyrics, including, “Our love doesn’t have to look like everybody else’s.” Denitia and Julia Cannon warmed the audience with Denitia’s “All the Sweet Tea” and Cannon’s sweet harmonies.

Madeline Finn and Liv Greene wooed the crowd and Jaimee Harris touched our hearts with a song written about the Pulse Nightclub shooting – a mass shooting targeting an LGBTQ+ club in Florida that took place in June of 2016, claiming the lives of 49 individuals. The song, “Orange Avenue,” is written from the perspective of a victim who lost his life in the shooting.

The concert continued with many more outstanding up-and-coming artists, including Ally Free, Jett Holden, Kentucky Gentleman, Lila Blue, Jobi Riccio, Palmyra, ISMAY, Jessye DeSilva, Abby Posner and Madeleine Kelson with her iconic queer anthem “The Way I Do,” which declares, “God has never loved a woman the way I do.”

As a whole, the Americana Proud showcase artists presented touching lyrics, intricate guitar lines, memorable stories and warm, loving energy. It was the perfect way to kick off AmericanaFest 2023!

Brandy Clark and Brandi Carlile by Erika Goldring/Getty Images for Americana Music Association

The 22nd Annual Americana Honors & Awards – Wednesday, September 20

The Americana Honors & Awards show took place on the second night of AmericanaFest at the Ryman Auditorium. (See a full list of winners and honorees here.) There was anything but a lack of LGBTQ+ artists, with performances from Sunny War, Adeem the Artist, S.G. Goodman, Allison Russell, Brandi Carlile, Brandy Clark and Angel Olsen. Jobi Riccio also made an appearance singing harmonies with Emerging Act of the Year nominee William Prince and guitarist Joy Clark performed with Allison Russell’s band, the so-called “Rainbow Coalition.”

When S.G. Goodman took the stage, it felt like time stopped – a fitting feeling, as she performed her song “Space and Time” off of her 2020 album, Old Time Feeling. (The track was also recently cut by Tyler Childers on his latest release, Rustin’ in the Rain.) Goodman stood powerful in a black suit and red cowboy boots, her voice shaking through the Ryman, her lyrics honest, vulnerable and touching.

Goodman subsequently took home the award for Emerging Act of the Year. As she accepted the honor, the audience felt her authenticity, humor and gratitude. “I find myself pretty fortunate to have a lot of folks working beside me as if I’m making a million dollars when I’m not,” she said. “And aside from the million dollars part, I’m pretty fortunate in that, you know.”

Allison Russell earned the The Spirit of Americana / Free Speech in Music Award – and she really did earn it. Russell was instrumental in organizing the Love Rising benefit concert at Bridgestone Arena that took place on March 20, 2023. The show was stacked with many of the music industry’s top LGBTQ+ artists and allies, including Jason Isbell, Maren Morris, Sheryl Crow, Hayley Williams, Hozier, Brittany Howard, Jake Wesley Rogers, Julien Baker, Joy Oladokun, Fancy Hagood, Izzy Heltai, The Highwomen, Yola and more. Proceeds from the event were donated to the Tennessee Equality Project, Inclusion Tennessee, OUTMemphis and The Tennessee Pride Chamber.

Russell was presented her award, fittingly, by the “Tennessee Three,” State Representatives Justin Jones, Gloria Johnson and Justin Pearson, who were infamously expelled from the Tennessee General Assembly earlier this year.

Pearson announced to the Ryman, “Last session, Tennessee Republicans ran through a bill criminalizing certain kinds of healthcare for trans people under the age of 18, other bills criminalizing drag performance when minors are present, but didn’t pass a bill to ban assault weapons.”

“We’re either all equal, or none of us are equal,” Jones followed-up. “Or as we say in Tennessee, ‘Y’all means all.’”

(L-R) Gloria Johnson, Justin Jones and Justin J. Pearson, the “Tennessee Three” by Erika Goldring/Getty Images for Americana Music Association

We in the queer community are coming out of a long period of time when artists were kicked off of labels for coming out, when being in the closet was considered necessary to grow a career as an artist in the music industry (especially in country music spaces), entering a new era when many celebrate, uplift and openly work to build an inclusive industry filled with diverse backgrounds and identities.

As Russell gave her acceptance speech she declared, “We are not divided, we are united.” As a nominee for both Song of the Year and Artist of the Year, she returned to the stage throughout the evening. She was glowing, wearing a sparkly golden gown, rocking out on banjo backed by a band of women, queer folks and artists of color.

Equal Access: Presented By CMT, mtheory and Nashville Music Equality – Thursday, September 21

The Equal Access showcase took place on Thursday at Delgado Guitars and was developed by mtheory, which has a mission to empower artists and managers who come from underrepresented backgrounds within country music. They highlighted Gina Venier and Denitia, who proudly identify as members of the LGBTQ+ community, and Nat Myers and Bella White, as well.

Gina Venier played her iconic song titled “Nora Jane,” sharing her fears about coming out to her family. The song features lyrics like, “What’s my dad gonna do when I bring you home?” and, “I’m afraid everyone I love won’t love me the same. When I tell ’em your name, Nora Jane.” The song does an incredible job at showing the feelings, thought process and fears around coming out.

Good Ol’ Queer Country Jamboree by Queerfest + BGS – Saturday, September 23

Finally, our very own special event, a collaboration between Queerfest, BGS and Soho House Nashville featured Cidny Bullens, Chris Housman, Jett Holden, Amanda Fields & Megan McCormick and Adeem the Artist. To cap off the week of AmericanaFest events and programs, we gathered in the whimsical, exclusive garden at Soho House in Nashville’s Wedgewood Houston neighborhood on a perfect sunny and mild afternoon.

Cidny Bullens opened the show as our special, surprise guest, speaking on his experience as a transgender artist with a decades-long career pre- and post-transition. Chris Housman shared his reality of changing the pronouns in his songs at certain shows where acceptance and inclusivity aren’t a given, emphasizing how important it is to have spaces where artists feel comfortable being openly themselves. He played his viral single “Blueneck” with the well-loved lyric, “I guess I’m a red state blueneck.”

The next artist, Jett Holden, was introduced by Holly G, founder of the Black Opry, a collective building a supportive community for Black artists, fans and industry professionals in roots music. Holden touched on the experience of coming out and while he wasn’t disowned, he noticed queer conversations being shoved aside, and he felt unsure about where he stood with his family. Megan McCormick & Amanda Fields shared an incredible country- and bluegrass-infused set with upright bass supporting their graceful voices and melodic guitar lines intertwining in harmony.

Adeem the Artist was the culmination of our Jamboree, playing many queer-centered songs including “I Never Came Out,” from their 2021 breakout album, Cast Iron Pansexual. They spoke on their experiences encountering hate and queerphobia and transphobia at the festival earlier in the week and the difference between performative acceptance and truly doing the work. As Adeem closed out the event, they shared, “This was a nice vibe after a kinda shitty week,” underlining the importance of creating inclusive, LGBTQ-centered spaces. Soho House was filled with loving, supportive energy and was a perfect way to wrap up the last official day of AmericanaFest 2023.

Additional LGBTQ+ Showcasing Artists

In addition to queer-centered events and showcases, there were many LGBTQ+ artists who showcased, performed, or appeared at special events throughout AmericanaFest 2023, including but not limited to the following:

Aaron Lee Tasjan
Allison Russell
Ally Free
Abby Posner
Adeem the Artist
Amanda Fields
Amythyst Kiah
Austin Lucas
Autumn Nicholas
Brandi Carlile
Brandy Clark
Chris Housman
Cidny Bullens
Crys Matthews
Della Mae
Esther rose
Ever More Nest
Gina Venier
Heather Mae
Ira Wolf
ISMAY
Jaimee Harris
Jett Holden
Jessye DeSilva
Jobi Riccio
Joy Clark
Julie Nolen
Julian Talamantez Brolaski
Lila Blue
Liv Greene
Mary Gauthier
Megan McCormick
Melody Walker
Mercy Bell
Mya Byrne
Paisley Fields
Palmyra
Secret Emchy Society
Shawna Virago
Skout
Sunny War
Wiley Gaby

We’d like to acknowledge that these are merely the artists we encountered who overtly and publicly identify with the LGBTQ+ community and are currently open about their identities. There are surely many more, as yet not visible to us, who were also involved this year that we hope to highlight in the future.

We would also love to acknowledge the Queer Cowpoke Roundup event that took place at The Groove, a queer-owned records store in East Nashville, on Saturday afternoon featuring a lineup of Austin Lucas, Julian Talamantez Brolaski, Julie Nolen, Melody Walker, Mercy Bell, Secret Emchy Society, Shawna Virago and Wiley Gaby. Although there were often unintentional overlaps in queer events on the AmericanaFest schedule, it emphasizes just how abundant LGBTQ+ artists, events, organizations and promoters were at AmericanaFest 2023.

As a whole, it’s exciting to see this volume of phenomenal, openly LGBTQ+ artists showcasing, holding inclusive events and being nominated for and taking home awards. Experiencing the cultivated queer spaces at AmericanaFest was lovely – yes, there were several reports of queerphobia, transphobia, misogyny and hate being directed at and overheard by LGBTQ+ artists throughout the week, too. We’ve come so far, but we’ve still got a long way to go. Even so, we are holding gratitude for the critical mass of queer music and community at AmericanaFest 2023, and we look forward to continuing to develop a more inclusive music industry together.


All Photos: Erika Goldring/Getty Images for Americana Music Association
Lead Image:
Allison Russell; S.G. Goodman; Adeem the Artist; all by Erika Goldring

BGS, Queerfest Announce AmericanaFest Event at Soho House Nashville

BGS is proud to announce a special AmericanaFest event in partnership with Queerfest, the Good Ol’ Queer Country Jamboree, to be held at Soho House Nashville on Saturday, September 23, from 3 p.m. to 6 p.m. during the 23rd annual Americana Music Festival & Conference. Featuring curated performances by a world-class selection of queer country artists, the Soho House event will only be open to members of the private club and hotel as well as AmericanaFest conference passholders. Space is limited; RSVP here. It’s a rare opportunity for non-member attendees of AmericanaFest to access the gorgeous, exclusive facilities of Soho House Nashville in the burgeoning Wedgewood Houston neighborhood.

In celebration of BGS’ expansion and creation of a new vertical, Good Country (coming in early 2024), our team has collaborated with QueerFest – winners of the Nashville Scene‘s Best New Music Festival recognition in 2022 – and Soho House Nashville. Together, we’ll bring you this exclusive gathering celebrating the very best LGBTQ+ talent in the Americana and country spheres, and the campaign launch of Good Country, an all-new country music-centered Substack and editorial channel coming from BGS in 2024.

During the three-hour showcase hear music from Black Opry member and big-voiced singer-songwriter Jett Holden. Plus, the writer and performer of viral leftist country track “Blueneck,” Chris Housman. BGS and Queerfest alumni, vibey bluegrass and Americana duo Amanda Fields & Megan McCormick will perform their Virginia- and Alaska-inspired music, and critically-acclaimed non-binary storyteller and song spinner, Adeem the Artist, will round out the slate of performers. Special guests and surprise appearances are in store, too – it’s AmericanaFest, after all!

The Good Ol’ Queer Country Jamboree is just one of many AmericanaFest events, official and grassroots, that will highlight the ongoing community crafting and momentum building of LGBTQ+ folks in Americana, country, folk and beyond. Do not miss this superlative AmericanaFest event, brought to you by Queerfest, Soho House Nashville, and BGS.

 

The Good Ol’ Queer Country Jamboree
featuring Adeem the Artist, Amanda Fields & Megan McCormick, Jett Holden, Chris Housman, and more.
Saturday, September 23, 3 p.m. – 6 p.m.
Soho House Nashville
RSVP Here.


Artist photos courtesy of the artists.

WATCH: Amanda Fields & Megan McCormick, “Wild As A Flower”

Artist: Amanda Fields and Megan McCormick
Hometown: Madison, Tennessee
Song: “Wild As A Flower”

In Their Words: “We started writing ‘Wild As A Flower’ almost two years ago, not knowing how the story that the song reflected would progress. After we lost one of our beloved animals in January, we were finally able to finish the song. It’s been refreshing to allow ourselves to explore new territories in our songwriting together, especially the spiritual elements that come up often in our conversations — we get pretty deep into the existential a lot of times and it’s opened up our writing a lot.” – Amanda Fields & Megan McCormick


Photo Credit: Lindsey Patkos
Video Credit: Rebecca Branson Jones

BGS Class of 2023 Favorites So Far

Somehow, it’s July and more than half the year has already blown by! In many ways it feels like 2023 is still brand new, despite the calendar saying otherwise and the overabundance of amazing music that has soundtracked the past (nearly) seven months. With many more albums and songs yet to come, we wanted to reflect on the music that has stuck with us and become new favorites of ours since January. It’s a stout list – if we do say so ourselves.

We want to hear from you, too! What albums, songs, and artists have been the underscoring of your 2023? Who’s missing from our list? 

(Editor’s Note: Scroll to find our complete BGS Class of 2023 playlist, which is updated every week.)

Rachel Baiman, Common Nation of Sorrow

Fiddler, songwriter, and activist Rachel Baiman has been a part of the BGS family for quite a while now, but recently she joined the ranks of our contributors, as well. (See her writings here.) Her new album, Common Nation of Sorrow, has been a standout for the entire team since it arrived in late March. Though she’s always helmed her creative and musical projects, in many capacities, this record marks the first time she’s been the sole producer on one of her own releases. Her fingerprints are indelible and striking; challenging and convicting. It’s introspective, but expansive. 

boygenius, the record

An album so nearly perfect we just have to include it, even though some may believe its connections to roots music are tenuous at best. (We disagree, of course– and wrote an entire list of folk bands for boygenius fans to prove our point.) Julien Baker, Phoebe Bridgers, and Lucy Dacus somehow, against the odds, rise above the simple sum of their parts while reminding of former folk supergroups like Trio (that is, Dolly, Linda, and Emmylou) and Crosby, Stills, Nash, and Young. 

Caitlin Canty, Quiet Flame

With its acoustic aesthetic and simple, string band underpinnings, Caitlin Canty’s Quiet Flame is a surprise superlative among bluegrass records released in 2023. Her past albums aligning more with folk, Americana, and singer-songwriter traditions, Quiet Flame was produced by Chris Eldridge and though the production values were quite intentional, the bluegrass result was more a happy byproduct than a deliberate destination. Filmmaker and playwright Noah Altshuler spoke to Canty about the project for a recent feature

Brandy Clark, Brandy Clark

The BGS team has been fans of country singer-songwriter Brandy Clark for quite some time, so it’s more than a little bit enjoyable to watch as more and more listeners and fans discover Clark. And they have so many pathways to find her, whether through her hit, Tony Award-winning Broadway musical, Shucked, her collaboration with Brandi Carlile – who produced the new, self-titled album – or her many charting hit songs. There’s a point of view on Brandy Clark that we never knew we missed before, a maturity that she never lacked, but she has certainly distilled. It shines in its many spotlights. (Watch for a feature on Clark coming soon to BGS.) 

Michael Cleveland, Lovin’ of the Game

Michael Cleveland has won IBMA’s Fiddle Player of the Year award more times than any other fiddler in the organization’s history. His obvious adoration for the instrument – and the life it has led him to – is front and center on his latest album, Lovin’ of the Game. Though he’s collaborated with virtuosos like Chris Thile, Béla Fleck, Billy Strings, and many more over the past handful of years, his perspective remains markedly down-to-earth. As is on display in our Artist of the Month interview from March.

Cat Clyde, Down Rounder

In mid-February, we premiered the music video for the lead single off Canadian alt-folk singer-songwriter Cat Clyde’s album, Down Rounder, and this collection has stuck with us since. For those of us with an affinity for a good red-dirt or red-rock hike, and for western, nomadic, cowboi (that is, all-gendered cowboys) aesthetics – since long before the recent rise of yeehaw culture – this album will provide such perfect daydream scoring. It’s ideal music for journeys internal as well as external. 

Iris DeMent, Workin’ On A World

An album of hope – but zero toxic positivity. Iris DeMent knows how it feels to be burnt out, bedraggled, exasperated, defeated. But hope is a radical act and, in those dark moments where hope seems so ethereal and distant, existence is a radical act. The songs of Workin’ On A World never feel preachy or condescending, even while they remind of weeknight church – all-denominational, of course – and raising voices together in the face of oppression and fascism. DeMent isn’t just workin’ on a world, she’s imagining one, too. It’s our job to bring it to fruition, even if we never see it. 

Amanda Fields, What, When and Without

Amanda Fields’ voice is impossibly tender, but do not let your guard down or it will bite you just the same. Especially when delivering a bittersweet, southwest Virginia-tinged lyric equally at home played by a bluegrass band or, like on What, When and Without, backed by a vibey, homespun, alt-country sound bed. For a voice and perspective as traditional as her’s, Fields still finds endless new ground to break and lines to color outside of. Her collaboration with guitarist and producer Megan McCormick (who has new solo music coming this year, as well) finds Fields’ musical output climbing to even higher levels of realization, innovation, and professionalism.

Ashby Frank, Leaving Is Believing

Mandolinist, singer, and songwriter Ashby Frank is in the running for IBMA’s Best New Artist award this year, and while reaching the second ballot in this category is certainly a well-deserved recognition, it’s a bit… inaccurate! Frank is not exactly a “newcomer,” as he has been a near permanent fixture in bluegrass, country, and Nashville for the greater part of two decades, performing with outfits like the Likely Culprits, the infamous Darrell Brothers, Special Consensus, Mountain Heart, John Cowan, and so many more. He’s even subbed regularly with the Earls of Leicester – and he’s a hit bluegrass songwriter, too, with charting cuts by Junior Sisk, Dale Ann Bradley, and more. His emerging solo career is where he’s truly hitting his stride, though, and in real time, with this outstanding “debut” on Mountain Home Music. 

Brittany Haas & Natalie Haas, HAAS

Genre is dead, we know, but if it hadn’t already been dead, chambergrass, classical-meets-fiddle, string band music such as this would have killed it. It’s a glorious musical territory and is no better inhabited by anyone in this particular scene than sisters Natalie and Brittany Haas, who return to collaborating with one another in an “official” format on HAAS. Sometimes it’s easy to lose sight of just how toxically masculine improvisational, jammy, virtuosic bluegrass and chambergrass have become. An album like HAAS quickly grounds this aesthetic – so far outside the realm of similar more performative, self-indulgent projects – and reminds just how much newgrass and chambergrass are still out there to be discovered and made. 

Jaimee Harris, Boomerang Town

A glut of queer country records are being released at this particular moment in time and Jaimee Harris’ Boomerang Town stands out in a niche that’s becoming more and more crowded. No one welcomes this quick change in country music more than ourselves – and Jaimee, too, we’re sure – but with more voices to be heard, one like Harris’ certainly cuts through. Boomerang Town isn’t exactly autobiographical, but it drips with Harris’ lived experiences and plays as if you’re sitting quietly with her, alone in her room, as she picks each intro on her favorite guitar and every track grows into a fully-realized number. It’s a not-so-idyllic snapshot of a hometown, like country does so well, and, like queer folks the world over know so intimately, the exact hometown really doesn’t matter. 

Brennen Leigh, Ain’t Through Honky Tonkin’ Yet

We hope Brennen Leigh, a multi-hyphenate picker, performer, and songwriter, is never through honky tonkin’. With her latest Signature Sounds recording Leigh has raised the bar for honky tonk sounds – a bar that should never be re-lowered. Equally at home as a “sideman,” a bluegrass picker, a songwriter (with cuts by Lee Ann Womack and others), and as an in-town Nashville picker, Leigh typifies the country everyman archetype – or, perhaps, the country “renaissance man” archetype. Or both! – while doing it better than nearly everyone else in the game, currently. With Nashville’s best on the album’s roster – as band members or featured artists – Ain’t Through Honky Tonkin’ Yet is a gem. 

Darren Nicholson, Wanderer

Mandolinist Darren Nicholson recently left Balsam Range, the North Carolina bluegrass group for which he’s known, after criss-crossing the country – and the globe – with the IBMA Award-winning and Grammy-nominated band for decades. He announced his departure from Balsam Range in 2022 and his first release as a solo artist, Wanderer, is a huge success. Nicholson stakes out and lays claim to his own brand of bluegrass – which is rooted equally in the high country of Western North Carolina (Nicholson hails from Haywood County) and in an effervescent joy. Besides his old-time influenced, traditional mandolin picking, his smile and laugh might be his most recognizable traits. The humor he relishes in life comes forward in his playing, too. Wanderer is a harbinger of many fine solo projects to come from Darren Nicholson.

Nickel Creek, Celebrants

Nickel Creek returned and millennial roots-music fans everywhere rejoiced, joining in the Celebrants celebration. After a nearly ten-year wait since 2014’s A Dotted Line, Celebrants seemed to once again impossibly capture the Nickel Creek lightning in a bottle. A Dotted Line felt mature and confident, self-assured but not cocky. On Celebrants, the throughline could be described as gentleness and gratitude; perhaps from Thile and Sara Watkins both becoming parents in the interim. Nevertheless, Celebrants would have been one of the most notable albums released this year – and for good reason – even without these subtle growth points and nuances.

Mighty Poplar, Mighty Poplar

If ever a bluegrass, old-time, and/or string band supergroup convenes with a pun for a name and we do not react with unabashed glee, please check the collective team BGS pulse. Mighty Poplar checks all of the boxes and then some. Yes, with its particular convention of pickers this album could be seen as a “return” to bluegrass, but that’s perhaps the most boring angle on this fascinating record. It’s not merely a return to the format that musically birthed each of these instrumentalists (Chris Eldridge, Greg Garrison, Alex Hargreaves, Andrew Marlin, and Noam Pikelny), it’s a demonstration in bluegrass not just as an aesthetic and tradition, but bluegrass as expression. 

Molly Tuttle & Golden Highway, City of Gold

Though we still have a couple of weeks until City of Gold drops, Molly Tuttle is our current Artist of the Month and we would be remiss to not include the most buzzed about bluegrass album of the year on this list. Singles “El Dorado” (above), “Next Rodeo,” and “San Joaquin” are out now, tempting and teasing another record influenced so heavily by Tuttle’s growing up in the bluegrass scene of California and the West Coast. Her band, Golden Highway (Bronwyn Keith-Hynes, Dominick Leslie, Shelby Means, and Kyle Tuttle) are featured heavily on City of Gold, for which Jerry Douglas returns to producing. Turns out it’s been Molly Tuttle & Golden Highway at the end of the rainbow this whole time!

Kassi Valazza, Kassi Valazza Knows Nothing

Kassi Valazza Knows Nothing, but she does know the power and magic of live recording. Her brand new album, tracked with backing band, fellow Portland, OR-based artists TK & the Holy Know-Nothings, was all tracked live, including vocals. As a result, the entire record buzzes with energy, whether toe-tapping or subdued. Sometimes, it’s a calm, warm, and honeyed patina that feels solemn and poetic, but ultimately, the entire collection is danceable. It’s tear-in-your-beer country and boot-scootin’ country – but that doesn’t make it simplistic. Which might be surprising, from someone who famously knows nothing. 

Sunny War, Anarchist Gospel

Sunny War’s latest album, Anarchist Gospel, finds her sound having grown and expanded, while still held together by the most fantastic of glues: Her confounding and entrancing right hand. Yes, War combines DIY music, punk, and grunge with roots music and fingerstyle blues, but that’s decidedly not the point – certainly not the centerpiece – of her art-making. (Despite what the guitar bros might tell you.) The truth is, at times, so much more complicated. At others, it’s really quite simple and literal. As she told us in an interview from earlier this year, she just plays the songs, the licks, the hooks, the lyrics as they’re meant to be played. And anarchy isn’t just a concept. 

Bella White, Among Other Things

Bella White’s breakout debut, Just Like Leaving, had already been released when she signed to Rounder Records, who then picked up and distributed the album. It received widespread acclaim as her Alberta- and Virginia-influenced bluegrass sound and Gillian Welch-like lyrics resonated with listeners and critics alike. Her brand new album, Among Other Things, then, feels like both a debut and a sophomore outing, devoid of any sort of “sophomore slump,” but capitalizing on the excitement she continues to generate in the bluegrass realm and well beyond it, too. We featured the new project with an interview in May.

Julie Williams, Julie Williams EP

We first became acquainted with Julie Williams’ music through Black Opry, the artist collective and revue who were our June Artist of the Month. In the Black Opry Revue’s simple, writers’ round format, her songs shone, gorgeous even in their very simple trappings. On her new EP, each of her songs are given the full treatment they deserve. Though they never feel lacking when delivered intimately and stripped down, unencumbered, Williams’ songs in this context soar, especially because they each give us an individualized window into her creative process, her songwriting imagination, and the production landscape she’ll continue to conquer into the future. 

Jess Williamson, Time Ain’t Accidental

In May we premiered “Chasing Spirits,” a delightfully hooky number from Jess Williamson’s latest album, Time Ain’t Accidental, which we are glad to return to here. (Williamson, you may know, is one half of duo Plains with Waxahatchee’s Katie Crutchfield.) Time Ain’t Accidental finds its home base where Williamson was raised, in Texas, and while it processes and puts under the microscope a past, failed relationship, this album is about movement, regeneration, and forward momentum. That she accomplishes this with imagery that’s pastoral, stark, and bristling is not an accident, either.

 

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The ‘Anarchist Gospel,’ According to Sunny War

Sunny War’s stunning new album, Anarchist Gospel, is never preachy, because it doesn’t need to be. War’s evocation of both anarchy and gospel in this context is strikingly grounded, blossoming from everyday understandings and interactions with each concept. And deeper still, in these sweeping, grand arrangements built on sturdy bones of fingerstyle, folk-informed right-hand guitar techniques, she indicates actions really do speak louder than words. 

These songs are active. Bold, resplendent, and broad with dense, fully-realized production leading to tender, contemplative, and microscopic moments, War draws from her lived experiences, her days and years navigating poverty, living unhoused, sheltering in abandoned buildings, relying on and offering mutual aid, to direct messages of hope, resilience, resistance, and joy, not just to us, her listeners, but also to herself. 

Perhaps that’s why, in this collection of songs born out of a harrowing and challenging emotional, spiritual, and mental period of Sunny War’s more recent past, there is so much hope in hopelessness, a constant – though sometimes minute – light shimmering at the end of the tunnel. Anarchist Gospel isn’t preaching at us, because she is compassionately, kindly, and tenderly talking to herself. And we all, as listeners, audience members, and fans, are just so fortunate enough to be brought into this internal dialogue, from which we can learn and challenge ourselves, and each other, to make a better world for everyone right now. 

It’s a record whose underpinning moral-to-the-story is never burdensome or heavy, but rather uplifting and soaring, exactly as an Anarchist Gospel ought to be. We began our Cover Story interview connecting with Sunny War at home in Chattanooga over the phone, discussing how anarchy is not simply an academic concept, but a real, everyday practice.

I know that in your life, anarchy isn’t just a concept, it has a very real, concrete application in your day-to-day. I think first of your work with Food Not Bombs and the mutual aid work you’ve done in Los Angeles – and wherever you’ve lived. A lot of people right now, especially in younger generations, have frames of reference for anarchy and collectivism and mutual aid work, but usually in the abstract. As if these concepts can only be for some imagined future. So why is anarchy something you wanted to represent in the album and its title, and what does the concept of anarchy mean in your life?

Sunny War: The album title isn’t really political, to me. I felt like the big choruses [on the album] felt gospel in a way, but it wasn’t religious so I felt like it was Anarchist Gospel. It was really because of the one song, “Whole,” where I just felt like the message of the song was kind of about anarchy, in a way that most people could understand. I guess I’m more of a socialist now, but it’s the same sentiment. I just want people to have what they need. That’s more what anarchy means to me. It seems like it’s government that’s in the way of people getting what they need. 

For me, it’s more personal. When I was homeless, a lot of times we would be living in abandoned buildings and we’d get arrested for that. Anarchy, to me, means, “Why can’t we be here? Nobody else is going to be in here. Why are you keeping us from this?” It feels weird that we don’t get to claim where we live, but other people do. Why do they have more rights to the same places? I don’t know if that’s anarchy, so much as I just think people have a right to everything. 

It feels like there’s this agnosticism to the album, this come-togetherness, as something we can all feel and inhabit without necessarily being called to by a higher power. We really can all realize, whatever our starting points, that all we have is each other.

I’m not against people that need God, or whatever. I’ve been in places where I’ve felt like I wanted to believe in that before, so I can relate to where that comes from. But then, I don’t know… [Laughs] Whether it’s religious or spiritual, I don’t know. 

This sounds like a record where we’re all supposed to be singing along. Part of that is the gospel tones, the title but also in the genre and production style, but part of it is also the messages here. Uplifting people from darkness, hope in hopelessness – so to me, so many moments on this album feel like church! 

I love church! I grew up in church – well, I don’t love church, but I love gospel. I still listen to gospel and I guess I’m being nostalgic, but also it just slaps. That’s just good music. If you like original R&B, it’s the basis of so much of American music. I wish it was a little more, I dunno… I guess I wish it wasn’t religious. [Laughs] Then I’d really be into it. But it’s cool how it is. 

In the moments in this record that feel like they’re at the lowest point, I still hear so much hope. I hear surrender in this album, not the kind that’s giving up, but the kind that feels generative and hopeful – especially in “I Got No Fight” and “Hopeless” and “Higher.”

This record was a lot of me talking to myself. It’s definitely the loneliest I’ve ever been writing something. Every other album I’ve ever made, I was in a relationship. This was different. After me and my ex broke up, I wasn’t even really socializing with my friends, because we had the same friends and I was embarrassed about our break up. I was so bitter, I didn’t want to be around anyone. I felt like I couldn’t be around anyone. I was barely leaving the house, I was isolating myself and got really morbid. I wasn’t turning lights on. [Laughs] I would sit in the dark a lot, I was lighting candles – [Laughing] I don’t really know what was going on, but it was mostly bad, I would drink a lot, and then I’d be like, “I’m drinking too much, I gotta get sober.” It would just repeat over and over again. But I was desperately trying to finish the album, because I was broke. I had the deal with New West, but I still had to produce the album before anything could get rolling. It was just what I had to do, but I was also going insane at the same time, and really angry. 

Do you feel like making the record brought closure to any of that for you? I feel like I can hear a release of tension in this album, but I wonder where that comes from, because so many of the songs, individually, have these big, emotional releases. How does it feel to be at this point, looking back with the clarity you have now?

The second I wrote “I Got No Fight” I remember immediately feeling better. I made the demo, and afterwards it made me feel like I was just having a tantrum. But it was like I had to make the song to really understand what I was going through. After making the demo, I realized, “I am just freaking out, I think I’m having a panic attack.” After hearing this song, it helped me understand like, “This is not real, this is just a temporary feeling.” But I couldn’t really feel anything else until after that. 

I have spent so much time over the past couple years trying to teach myself that the point of feelings is to feel them.

Yeah, but they suck most of the time. [Laughs] I don’t want most of them. 

The line in that song, “Sometimes the end is the only light I see,” might be my favorite line on the record. There’s nihilism and existentialism in it, but it doesn’t feel hopeless or despairing. It’s kind of a cheerful, “Oh right! Nothing matters!” Where did that line come from for you? 

That gets me through the day, a lot. Sometimes I think of life as just a jail sentence and I always think like, “Well, I probably am only going to live fifty more years at the most.” Sometimes that helps me get through the day. [Laughs] I know that that sounds negative, but that can really be uplifting if you chose for it to be!

It feels a lot lighter, to me at least, once you realize that nothing matters. Suddenly you can laugh a little bit more, improvise more – like lately, I’ve been trying to accept that I have no idea what I’m doing. I’m trying to get comfortable with it. In my twenties, I felt like I was trying to make plans all the time, planning so far into the future and just getting disappointed with stuff. It’s better to [recognize] – which is almost like religious people – you’re just powerless. Just try to eat something, drink some water. [Laughs] 

Let’s talk about your guitar playing. I love your right hand so much. I think what’s entrancing about your guitar on this album is that it’s holding these songs together, but not as much as a rhythmic instrument or comping instrument, like in your past records. It’s more textural, to add depth and complexity, but your playing is still so hooky, melodically. Your personality comes through the guitar on top of all of these tracks. How did you accomplish that balance, having the guitar front and center and immediate, but it’s also not necessarily the centerpiece of these songs?

I think it’s because this is the first record where I knew how to use Logic, so my demos were almost full tracks already. I was adding keyboard and bass and programming drums to things before even going into the studio. A lot of the songs are all based on riffs that I’ve had for a while, that I couldn’t figure out how to use. Before, a lot of my other stuff, I was just writing a song. Now, I just collect guitar parts and I try to make them work in something, but I don’t really have a [plan for them, initially.] I’m basing it more off the guitar parts now. 

How do you like the banjo? Is this the first time you had banjo on a record? 

Yeah!

What do you think writing on the banjo leads you to that a guitar or keys or writing on another instrument wouldn’t lead you to?

Anything that’s tuned differently makes me have to think differently about stuff. I still don’t really “get” the banjo, it’s weird because I have had a banjo for over 10 years now, but it still seems like something I’m trying to learn about. I just recently got okay with being like, “I’m just going to make sounds with it.” I’m not going to try to “learn” it. [Laughs] I definitely want to make more songs with the banjo – and maybe even without a guitar, and see what that’s like. Some of my favorite buskers I’ve ever seen are just a singer with a banjo. I think it makes people sing different. I gotta get my banjos out now… 

Guitar culture – guitar shop culture, guitar show culture – it’s such a toxically masculine scene, and it’s so competitive and punishing, that I kind of have realized over the past few years that the people helping me realize I still love the guitar and guitar culture are all women and femmes. Like, Jackie Venson, Molly Tuttle, folks like Celisse and Madison Cunningham, or like Kaki King and Megan McCormick and Joy Clark – I can think of so many guitarists who aren’t just really good, but they’re also pushing the envelope, they’re innovating, and they have really strong perspectives and voices on the instrument, like yourself. So I wanted to ask you about your own relationship with guitar culture and the guitar scene, because as a queer banjo player who loves music, I kinda hate people who love guitar. But I’ve been so grateful that all these women are reminding me I can love guitar and it’s not just a patriarchal, toxically masculine instrument and scene.

I just try to stay out of it. Sometimes at shows, guitar guys talk to me and I just tell them, “I don’t know. I don’t know.” [Laughs] Because I don’t want to get into any discussion about it. I know a lot of people who can really play, but [guitar guys] make it so you have to be kinda crazy, kinda obsessive. And it’s so competitive. That doesn’t sound fun to me. I don’t get how that’s fun anymore. It’s not art, at that point. It’s almost like a sport. Which you can, go ahead and practice scales all day so you can play the fastest, but then a lot of times people can be really technically good, but there’s no soul in it. They’re just trying to cram as many riffs into something as possible. They take all the art out of it, they’re technically playing perfectly, but I don’t feel anything. 

I would much rather be listening to my favorite guitar player, who is Yasmin Williams. It’s not just because of technical ability, but because it’s progressive. I’m like, “That’s outta the box, I don’t know where that’s going.” That’s what I like about it. 


Photo credit: Joshua Black Wilkins

WATCH: Amanda Fields, “Moving Mountains” (Feat. Megan McCormick)

Artist: Amanda Fields
Hometown: Madison, Tennessee (originally from Southwest Virginia)
Song: “Moving Mountains” (feat. Megan McCormick)
Album: What, When and Without
Release Date: February 28, 2023
Label: Are and Be Recordings

In Their Words: “I’m so happy and grateful to share this song with you all! It’s about finding the strength to do things that feel too big to handle and it serendipitously came out just one day after my grandmother Betty’s funeral, and I had lost my other grandmother Justine only a few short weeks before. As songs often do, it has taken on a whole new meaning to me and has really become a source of healing for me when I sing it. The song was originally inspired by Hazel Dickens’ caring for her brother (who died from Black Lung) and Mother Maybelle Carter’s work as a nurse tending to elderly patients. Hazel and Maybelle moved mountains, not just with their music, but through their work serving others and that’s the example that I’m following, but of course, I’m on my own path. I wrote the song with Megan McCormick, who also produced, sang and played lead guitar on the track.” — Amanda Fields


Photo: John Brown