BGS 5+5: Justin Hiltner & Jon Weisberger

Editor’s Note: Our writers at the Bluegrass Situation have many talents — and for regular contributors Justin Hiltner (pictured right) and Jon Weisberger, their original music is worth discovering by our BGS readers.

Artist name: Justin Hiltner & Jon Weisberger
Hometown: Nashville, Tennessee
Latest album: Watch It Burn
Personal nicknames (or rejected band names): “J-Dubs” (Jon); “HUSTIB” (Justin).

Which artist has influenced you the most … and how?

Jon: It would have to be Merle Haggard. His music and his career exemplify so many things that first attracted me to country and bluegrass music. For instance, he worked as a sideman before going out on his own, in a classic sort of apprenticeship that I really appreciate; he wrote about a lot of different things in a lot of different ways, with his personal story being just one element in his songwriting; and to me, he really found a sweet spot between acknowledging and taking part in tradition on the one hand, and having his own, unique voice on the other.

Justin: It’s difficult to pinpoint just one, especially given that bluegrass is predicated upon versatility and wearing all of the creative and musical hats all at once. If I were to hazard an answer, based on where I stand at this point in time, musically and otherwise, it would have multiple parts. Earl Scruggs, first and foremost, really and truly is my most important banjo inspiration. “Little Darlin’ Pal of Mine” off of At Carnegie Hall! was undoubtedly my OH-SHIT-EARL-SCRUGGS moment. Darrell Scott would probably fill the most influential songwriter slot (and getting to sing harmony with Tim O’Brien on Watch it Burn’s “If I Were a Praying Man” let me live my Darrell Scott dreams, if just for one song!) And if I were to pick an influential vocalist, it would have to be Lee Ann Womack. Now I ought to stop while this answer is still sufficiently succinct.

What’s the toughest time you ever had writing a song?

Jon: There are several different kinds of tough! I remember that when Jeremy Garrett and I first wrote “Where The Rivers Run Cold,” he got some feedback about the song that caused us to spend some time trying to write a different chorus, and that was tough; eventually, the band adopted it as it was originally written, which turned out pretty well. And he and Josh Shilling (Mountain Heart) and I recently revisited one we kind of thought we had finished back in late 2014, but that none of us was really satisfied with; that one wound up with a different time signature and a different chorus that we love, but working out what to change and what to keep was a real job.

Justin: On my own, I tend to write hyper-personal, intensely specific songs. I often find myself way too close to a song’s hook or core idea, so close that I can’t make progress or finesse the writing at all. The beauty in having a co-writer like Jon nearby, someone that I’ve worked with for so long, is that I can trust him to take one of those personal song ideas and flesh it out in a way that cares for the premise, but insures that it’s relatable to a broader audience. This is exactly how we wrote “This Isn’t How I Wanted to Come Home” together, a song about my grandma passing away. Without a steady co-writing hand like Jon’s, so many difficult songs sit languishing, unfinished, in my iPhone notes!

If you had to write a mission statement for your career, what would it be?

Jon: Super-simple: write and play music that means something to me, and do so well enough that it means something to others, too — enough that I’m able to, as Melvin Goins used to say, put a biscuit on the table.

Justin: That no one ever feel excluded from these roots genres that we love because of who they are. Full stop.

Which elements of nature do you spend the most time with and how do those impact your work?

Jon: I guess that would be fauna — specifically, cats. My wife and I have two, and they affect my work every time I write with someone at our house! Matisse, the older of the two, appears in the “at the writing table” photo used in Watch It Burn’s graphic design, and in other promotional photos, too, illustrating the exact nature of that impact — entertainment and/or distraction.

Justin: I should hope at this point that it’s a well-known fact that I’m an avid birdwatcher and amateur naturalist. I’ve got 353 species of birds on my life list (an ongoing list of every species I’ve ever successfully identified in-field). I learned very early in my time as a performer that I ought to bring my binoculars wherever I go on tour. I write a lot of songs about birds, but so many aspects of nature filter into my writing — as in “Lady’s Slippers,” from the record, a song indirectly about a gorgeous, rare native orchid. “Winnsboro Blue” was written for a quarry near property my uncle owns in upstate South Carolina, where we go birding every time I’m in the area. It comes through whether you can always trace the connection or not!

How often do you hide behind a character in a song or use “you” when it’s actually “me”?

Jon: I’ve never really thought about it in that way, I guess, in part because I’ve pretty much always been a side musician and singer who took up songwriting more out of need than out of the urge for self-expression that I think motivates a lot of singers and writers, at least when they’re starting out. Too, bluegrass and country are fields in which distance between singer/writer and the character written or sung is no less legitimate than complete identification. Perhaps this more craft-oriented approach has helped as a co-writer; I’m really accustomed to looking for how I can relate to the germ of a song idea almost in the way a listener, rather than a writer would. As a result, I do think there’s a part of me in every song I’ve written, even though they’re almost all co-writes — in fact, that’s part of what makes co-writing so enjoyably mysterious or mysteriously enjoyable.

Justin: I used to hide myself and my identity in my songs not by clever or deflective writing, but by literally distancing myself from my songs. If I had written something with prominent male pronouns I would pitch the song to women, operating under the assumption that I could not/would not ever be the one singing those songs. For so long I felt that my queerness need not be present in my writing and my art, because, “Straight people aren’t flaunting their identities in their music!” Turns out 99.9 percent of all music ever made flaunts heteronormativity pretty unabashedly, so I consciously broke the habit of filtering my own perspective out of my songs. It was a pivotal point for me, personally and professionally, and I’ll never go back to hiding behind songwriting rhetoric choices ever again!


Photo credit: Bethany Carson, Carson Photoworks

MIXTAPE: Eric Corne’s California Country

California country has deep roots and an enduring influence. It’s given us the Bakersfield Sound, country-rock, cosmic country, cow punk, and much more. I love the more raw/less polished sound and how its artists tend to chart their own course. Nashville was a company town; California was where the mavericks went. I have a strong personal connection to California country, stemming from my work as Dusty Wakeman’s engineer at Mad Dog Studios in Los Angeles. Dusty played bass with Buck Owens, engineered Dwight Yoakam’s seminal albums, and co-produced Lucinda Williams’ first two albums. There’s still a strong core of musicians in L.A. with roots stretching back to these earlier generations, and it’s a thrill and an honor to be writing and producing records with such soulful and beautiful people, many of whom populate the selections below. — Eric Corne

Buck Owens — “Streets of Bakersfield”

Buck Owens is, of course, a pillar of California country and a pioneer of the Bakersfield Sound. An iconic harmony guitar riff provides the instrumental theme, with gorgeous vocal harmonies and pedal steel lifting the choruses. This song really encapsulates what California country represents to me — the desire to be oneself.

Merle Haggard — “Working Man”

This is one of my favorite Merle songs. It’s got a great groove and terrific guitar playing with lyrics that clearly represent the blue-collar ethic he embodied.

Lucinda Williams — “Sweet Ole World”

Lucinda really helped broaden the boundaries of country just by doing her own thing. This song has an angelic vocal melody with beautiful harmony and precise responses from the guitar. Immaculately recorded and co-produced by my mentor Dusty Wakeman.

Dwight Yoakam — “It Only Hurts When I Cry”

Dwight and Pete Anderson were real students of classic country music, especially the Bakersfield Sound, and they were at the center of the cow punk movement, along with X, Lone Justice, and others. This is a great song with witty lyrics, perfect production, and top-notch performances.

Jean Shepard — “If Teardrops Were Silver”

Raised in Bakersfield, Jean Shepard was a pioneer for female country singers and one of its first great stars, following on the heels of Kitty Wells’ breakthrough. She had a really pure voice with a lovely vibrato and a great ability to interpret a song.

Bob Wills — “Bubbles in My Beer”

It could be argued that Bob Wills is the godfather of the Bakersfield Sound. He played there regularly and had a strong influence on both Buck and Merle … something I can really hear in this song.

Sam Morrow — “Skinny Elvis” (Featuring Jaime Wyatt)

I’m really proud to work with these two brilliant, young, California country artists who are getting well-deserved national attention. I wrote this one for Sam’s album, Concrete and Mud. It’s a little reminiscent of the Gram/Emmylou song “Ooh, Las Vegas,” so I thought it’d make a great duet with Jaime. I recruited legendary Gram Parsons/Byrds pedal steel player Jay Dee Maness to play on it, which was quite a thrill, as you can imagine.

Guy Clark — “L.A. Freeway”

Guy Clark wasn’t in L.A. for long, and this song is about leaving, but it’s a beautiful farewell song. The song makes reference to another beloved and iconic figure of California country — “Skinny” Dennis Sanchez who played bass with Clark, and ran in circles with the likes of Townes Van Zandt, Rodney Crowell, and Steve Earle. There’s also a thriving honkytonk in Brooklyn named after him. It’s an incredible performance, very dynamic, with a sympathetic arrangement including Wurlitzer piano, weepy fiddle, moaning harmonica, and gorgeous chorus harmonies.

Jade Jackson — “Motorcycle”

Here’s another great, young country singer coming out of Cali right now. I love this lyric and vocal performance — intimate with a dark, rebellious under current.

Linda Ronstadt — “Silver Threads and Golden Needles”

Her early career country records are really underrated. This is a killer country-rock version of a Dick Reynolds/Jack Rhodes classic song with strong ties to the Flying Burrito Brothers. I think Ronstadt is also important to include here, due to her work with Neil Young, the Eagles, Jackson Browne, and others in the L.A. country scene of the late ’60s and early ’70s.

The Byrds — “Hickory Wind”

No playlist of California country would be complete without a song from the Byrds’ seminal country album Sweetheart of the Rodeo. My first gig in Los Angeles was assisting Dusty Wakeman on the mixes for the Gram Parsons tribute concert at which Keith Richards did a beautiful heartfelt version of this song by his old pal, Gram.

Sam Outlaw — “Jesus Take the Wheel (And Drive Me to a Bar)”

An instant classic by one of the brightest stars of the current generation of California country singers with outstanding production by Ry Cooder and Bo Koster of My Morning Jacket on keys, who also guests on my new record.

The Flying Burrito Brothers — “Hot Burrito #1”

Even though Gram Parsons and Chris Hillman’s importance is already represented here via the Byrds, I wanted to include this achingly beautiful Burrito song, partly because of Gram’s incredible vocal and melody, and partly due to Bernie Leadon and the link he represented as a member of both the Burritos and the Eagles, the latter heavily influenced by the former.

Gene Autry — “Mexicali Rose”

Gene Autry’s singing cowboy films were instrumental in bringing country music to a national audience in the 1940s. I was very fortunate to record Glen Campbell on his version of “Mexicali Rose,” but thought I’d include Autry’s version here.

Crosby, Stills, Nash, & Young — “Helpless”

I think the Laurel Canyon music scene played an important role in California country and Neil Young, in particular — first with Buffalo Springfield, with songs like “Learning to Fly” and “I Am a Child,” and later with his Nashville-recorded classic, Harvest. “Helpless” to me represents the seeds of Harvest.

Eagles — “Tequila Sunrise”

Not much needs to be said about the first two Eagles’ albums and their role in the popularity of country-rock. Not to include them would seem an oversight. This also represents the beginning of the fruitful Glenn Frey/Don Henley songwriting partnership.

BGS 5+5: Pauline Andrès

Artist: Pauline Andrès
Hometown: Nashville by way of France
Latest Album: Fearless Heart
Personal Nicknames: Musicians call me P.A, Spanish friends Paulinilla, Southern friends Mama.

If you could spend 10 minutes with John Lennon, Dolly Parton, Hank Williams, Joni Mitchell, Sister Rosetta, or Merle Haggard how would it go?

Tough choice between Merle and Dolly. I guess I’d go for Dolly because such a moment would surely get me high on a crazy good mood for about a month. I would humbly ask for two pieces of advice: one from Dolly, the songwriter, and one from Dolly, the businesswoman. I’d also thank her for both her badass career and the incredible fun I had at Dollywood last Christmas.

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

My life would be complete if I could ever have a big slice of pizza with Springsteen. Wouldn’t even need to talk. But if I could hear an anecdote or two, then my life would be extra complete.

If you had to write a mission statement for your career, what would it be?

Work in the best interest of the songs and nothing else. If it does not serve the songs, it ain’t worth doing.

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

Literature plays a big part. When I write a song, I always start with an idea, concept, or actual plot. Rarely with a melody or rhythm. Storytelling in the form of books, tales, or poetry is the brainier sister of songwriting. A couple of songs I’ve released are entirely based on literary influences and many are just sprinkled with more subtle references. “On the Doorstep” is feeding off Lovecraft’s writing in every single line and was inspired by at least 10 of his short novels. “She” was born from my obsession with fairy tales — the original, darker, and often Eastern versions of the stories we (think we) know so well.

As you travel around the world, what is the overriding sense you get of the people?

It’s fair to say I’ve traveled a lot and for longer periods of time. At the end of the day, whether in Nashville, Hanoi, or Berlin, you just see the same people with similar-ish struggles. The scenery changes — that’s all. The scale of the problems, too. But not their essence.

It’s probably this universality, this pain that we share, that allows music and arts to create such amazing connections that cross languages and borders. When you travel intensively, you also realize that idiots come in all sizes and languages; therefore, any generalization about a nationality or culture is not only morally wrong, it’s literally not true. People are people. Fact. And the touching part, for me, is to see that most just do the best they can. Even when that ain’t much.

Charley Pride: Crossing Over Generations

Charley Pride might be 83 and a living country legend, but that doesn’t mean he’s not wise or proud enough to still listen to his wife. “It’s been six years since the last one,” Pride says of his 2011 album, Choices. “And my wife said, ‘Why don’t you try and find a producer you might like to work with?'” Pride heard her loud and clear and, together, they found Billy Yates, a renowned Nashville artist, producer, and songwriter. Even in his 80s, Pride wasn’t afraid to shake things up a little. Clearly, he’s never been afraid to take chances and drive from his gut — straight to 36 number one songs and spots in the Country Music Hall of Fame and the Grand Ole Opry.

The result is Music in My Heart, 13 songs of tender country traditionalism centered on Pride’s warm tone and classic, twangy spikes of fiddle and steel guitar. After all these years and one of country’s most storied careers, Pride’s never found a reason to veer away from what he does best — songs that grow fruitfully from the genre’s original roots, watered with the souls of Bill Monroe and Roy Acuff.

“I’m a traditionalist,” says Pride. He repeats the phrase so it’s undeniably clear: “A traditionalist. You don’t have to worry about me crossing over, because I’m a traditionalist and I’m proud of that. People used to say to me, after ‘Kiss an Angel Good Mornin” started going up the charts, ‘Charley, when are you going to cross over?’ I said, ‘I ain’t going to cross over to nothing.’ They want me to cross over? They crossed over to me!”

Pride, who’s sold over 70 million records worldwide, has certainly earned the right to stick to his convictions — and he’s also proven the value of driving straight from the heart, with equal parts hard work along the way. Pride grew up the son of a sharecropper on a cotton farm in Sledge, Mississippi, and has lived a life worthy of the movie screens, so much so that a biopic has been in the works for years (at one point, Dwayne Johnson, aka the Rock, was even in talks to play the singer). Pride held tenure in the Negro baseball league, was drafted by the Army, and ended up in Nashville after his plans in sports crumbled. He took the bus to Tennessee, eventually breaking barriers with hit after hit in the ’60s, ’70s, and ’80s. Even now, he’s still working, performing sometimes 40 concert dates a year. The only difference is that he’s singing to multiple generations.

“I’m singing to three or four decades now,” Pride says. “I was in Indiana a few years back, and a lady hollered out in the audience, ‘Charley! You’re singing to five generations!’ I’m singing to grandmothers, grandfathers, granddaughters. I don’t want to sound like I’m bragging, but they’re still standing up when I first come on. They scream, ‘Oh, Charley. You’ve still got it!’ Not just the ladies; the men are, too. When you get that kind of thing, it’s hard to quit.”

Indeed, Music in My Heart is still very much progressing and alive. Instead of compiling an album of tributes, or something trying to appeal to country’s current trends, it’s unapologetic in its tone: it opens on “New Patches,” with fiddle that’s clear as day, undeniably traditional and Southern-rooted. Pride’s voice, too, has only honeyed as the years have gone on, deepening a touch, yet barely fraying. Even in his personal listening, he’s never strayed from the classics. “I listen mostly to Willie’s Roadhouse,” he admits, about his buddy Willie Nelson’s classic country show on SiriusXM. He sees Randy Travis as the dividing line of sorts between the new and the old guard.

“From Randy Travis came Tim McGraw, Garth Brooks, up to Taylor Swift, to now,” he says. “Most of them, I’ve met and they’ve been really good to me, same as my peers up to George Strait. I’ve liked not one or two of their songs, but a whole bunch. Garth Brooks, he treats me like a dad. Well, not a dad, but with respect, for my being a traditionalist.”

Predictably, it’s once again his wife Rozene — to whom he’s been wed since 1956 — who is the balancing force. “If I’m in her car, she listens to the people coming up,” Pride admits, though don’t ask him to recall any of their names. “The youngsters that are coming up right now.” Pride’s own youngster — his son, Dion — carries on the family tradition with some other famous offspring: Marty Haggard and Georgette Jones, something Pride himself brings full circle on Music in My Heart by covering Haggard’s “The Way It Was in ’51.”

With the genre’s recent embrace of traditionalism, it would be a pity to put Pride only in the category of dust-gathering legacy acts: He is one, undoubtedly, but he’s still making music that has ample power to scratch that modern classic country itch. Maybe that’s because he still sees his best days ahead of him. “I think this is my best work, and I’m not just saying that: I’m stating facts that I believe,” he says. “I culled these songs down to the ones I really love, the way I have done all my life. Like I’ve always said, I’m in the business of selling lyrics, feeling, and emotions.”

And Music in My Heart is beating fast and furiously with all of those things, 83 years in the making.


Lede illustration by Cat Ferraz.

Best of: Grand Ole Opry

When I think of country music, I think of the Grand Ole Opry. As far as I’m concerned, the two are synonyms. What began as the WSM Barn Dance radio show in 1925 has grown into an entire entertainment experience (their YouTube even has style videos), and solidified Nashville as the Country Music Capital. With its rich history, it is no wonder that aspiring country and bluegrass musicians across the globe dream of making an Opry debut. Here are five performances from “country’s most famous stage” for your enjoyment:

Johnny Cash — “Ring of Fire”

Let’s start off with this throwback video of Johnny Cash performing one of his most famous songs, “Ring of Fire,” at the Ryman Auditorium in 1968. While Cash had a tumultuous relationship with the Opry — and was even banned from the show for a period of time in the middle of his career — there is no doubt that his music is always a treat to listen to.

Carson Peters & Ricky Skaggs — “Blue Moon of Kentucky”

While the Opry is an integral part of country music’s rich history, it also ensures a bright future for country music by recognizing young talent. In this 2014 video, then 10-year-old Carson Peters, joined by seasoned Opry member Ricky Skaggs, breathes new life into Bill Monroe’s “Blue Moon of Kentucky.”

Alison Krauss & Jamey Johnson — “My Dixie Darlin’”

Every time Alison Krauss and Jamey Johnson make music together, the result is magical. While Johnson holds down the lead vocals beautifully on this stripped-down rendition of the Carter Family classic, “My Dixie Darlin’,” Krauss’s sweet harmonies and fiddle playing are icing on the cake.

Merle Haggard — “Workin’ Man Blues”

Country music legend Merle Haggard never became an Opry member, but he did perform there many times during his long career. Here, Haggard sings his anthem for the working class, “Workin’ Man Blues,” on the Opry in 1977. Make sure to stick around untill the end to catch an amazing guitar solo!

Steven Curtis Chapman & Ricky Skaggs — “What a Friend We Have in Jesus”

Many musicians across various genres have recorded and performed the old Christian hymn “What a Friend We Have in Jesus,” but this rendition by Steven Curtis Chapman and Ricky Skaggs is my favorite, by far. Chapman and Skaggs deliver the song with a certain tenderness that pairs perfectly with the already comforting lyrics of the song.

Margo Price, ‘Weakness’

In an environment where we watch live streams of musicians daily and get constant updates on everything from the songs coming out of their mouths to the food going in, it can be downright refreshing when an artist holds something back. There’s a confidence that comes from just plopping a creation down without the fanfare — hello, Arcade Fire — that can sometimes accompany an album release. Surprise albums are quite frequently the best ones, often simply because whoever is releasing them knows that they’re just good enough to live on their own, no mass pre-marketing required.

Today, Margo Price dropped Weakness, a long-awaited taste of new music without any hints or promotional campaigns: It’s four songs that give a sample of the direction that she’s been heading for a forthcoming sophomore LP. Terrific, succinct, and diverse, it’s both joyous and completely cutting — a signature that Price showcased all across her debut, Midwest Farmer’s Daughter. It begins with the title track, “Weakness,” a jangly modern honkytonk that would make Merle Haggard grin about the dichotomy that lives inside us all: “Sometimes I’m my only friend and my own worst enemy,” she sings. Who out there can’t relate to that feeling that no one can understand our deepest dreams, but our thoughts also breed our worst nightmares? For an artist who has shared the stage with Kris Kristofferson and played Saturday Night Live, there’s comfort that comes from hearing how Price wrestles with the same demons we all do — and, while the EP itself is a surprise, it’s not at all shocking that she took the opportunity to be, once again, as honest as possible. Despite her “Weakness,” it’s truth that takes the utmost strength.

MIXTAPE: Lee Ann Womack’s Country Primer

When we needed an artist to make us a Mixtape of classic country tunes, we turned immediately to Lee Ann Womack … and not just because we love her very, very much, but also because she grew up hanging out in an East Texas radio station while her father played some of the greatest country music ever made. LAW noted that these aren’t, necessarily, her favorite country songs and they don’t go all the way back, but they are certainly a solid representation of the genre’s great past which has absolutely informed its wonderful present.

Johnny Cash — “I Walk the Line”
The ultimate crossover artist, he took country beyond all boundaries. He’s not just one of the greatest country artists, but one of the greatest American artists of all time.

Bill Monroe — “Blue Moon of Kentucky”
He might have been known as the Father of Bluegrass, but music in the country genre was heavily influenced by Bill Monroe. I love — and have borrowed from — the mournful sound of his vocals, the electricity of the harmony vocals, and the drive of the instruments in his music.

The Carter Family — “Wildwood Flower”
Nicknamed the First Family of Country Music, the Carter Family were pioneers of mountain gospel and country music, utilizing harmony vocals in a way that would influence the country genre for many years to come.

Waylon Jennings — “Lonesome, On’ry and Mean”
He had a career as a sideman for Buddy Holly and as a disc jockey in radio before he ever came to Nashvillle to make country records. He was part of the first platinum country album, Wanted: The Outlaws, along with Willie Nelson, Tompall Glaser, and Jessi Colter. To me, Waylon was the epitome of the marriage of rock and country, bringing all of his West Texas vibes to ’70s country.

Tammy Wynette — “Stand by Your Man”
You’d be hard pressed to find someone who isn’t familiar with Tammy and her song “Stand by Your Man.” It’s been a controversy several times over! Her voice is like a broken heart poured directly through stereo speakers and her life seemed like a living, breathing country song.

Loretta Lynn — “Coal Miner’s Daughter”
The ultimate country female singer, she wrote and sang about her life, which reflected so many of the people in rural America and the things they were going through. Listening to her music, one could learn a lot about the times she grew up in, and that’s country music: real life.

Dolly Parton — “Coat of Many Colors”
Her Appalachian roots, so present in her voice and music and, obviously, in the lyrics she wrote. The perfect example of a country girl with bluegrass/mountain influences.

Buck Owens — “Together Again”
From Sherman, Texas, and, along with Merle, created the Bakersfield sound. As is often told, Buck influenced countless other artists in and outside the country genre, not the least of which was the Beatles. I always loved his use of the telecaster and harmonies via Don Rich, and could hear their influences in so many of the country acts that followed.

Merle Haggard — “Okie from Muskogee”
The smoothest and prettiest voice of the male country singers, I always loved Merle for his music and his appreciation of music. I love his playing and especially love his studious approach, pouring over the catalogs of masters like Bob Wills and Jimmie Rodgers — not to mention the blues and jazz music influences you can hear in him. He fascinates me. Along with Buck, they created a whole new country music scene in Bakersfield and refused to play by the rules. I love it.

George Jones — “He Stopped Loving Her Today”
I could do a whole list of just George Jones songs. To me, he surpasses all others because he actually created a new style of singing. Often imitated but never, ever has anyone come close to duplicating. As Gram said, “He’s the king of broken hearts.”

Hank Williams — “I’m So Lonesome I Could Cry”
A country boy with so much soul, he transcends any genre and is one of the greatest songwriters in all of music.

Willie Nelson — “Crazy”
An American treasure, Willie is another artist who really transcends all genres, but there’s no mistaking his country upbringing. He puts music first, before any kind of labels or boxes, and he definitely influenced Nashville and Texas music in a huge way and showed that, when it’s honest, country music and country artists can have mass appeal.

In Memoriam: 2016

Every year there are great voices that leave us, but 2016 has particularly riddled with loss — especially for music fans. From the January death of David Bowie to the devastating departure of Prince to the Christmas Day news about George Michael, this was a year that didn’t let up. On the lesser-known end of the spectrum, we lost too many to mention, including Holly Dunn, Joey Feek, Long John Hunter, Steve Young, Georgette Twain Seiff, Billy Paul, Candye Kane, Red Simpson, Ruby Wilson, James King, Hoot Hester, Padraig Duggan, Fred Hellerman, and so many more.

Here, we honor some of those roots music legends who left us this year — and cherish the legacies they left behind.

Glenn Frey (November 6, 1948 – January 18, 2016)

A brilliant musician (and a generally well-liked guy, to boot), Glenn Frey wrote the soundtrack to countless windows-down road trips. Born in Detroit, Michigan, in 1968, the founding member of the Eagles played in multiple bands around the city (including a guitar cameo on an early Bob Seger track) before hightailing it to California, where he would really find his footing as a songwriter in the late 1960s. From penning the ubiquitous “Take It Easy” with Jackson Browne to collaborating with Don Henley on hits like “Lyin’ Eyes” and “Heartache Tonight,” Frey was a lynchpin in the harmony-heavy group throughout their prime in the ‘70s and had a formidable solo career during the band’s hiatus, too. Not many bands forge a strong enough bond with their listeners to completely disband for 14 years only to make a seamless comeback, but what Frey built with the Eagles managed to transcend time and genre. Frey amassed a catalog that will only continue to inspire — from impassioned tribute performances of his records to originals authored by a generation raised on them.

Merle Haggard (April 6, 1937 – April 6, 2017)

Merle Haggard was a musician who lived for the road. “It’s what keeps me alive and it’s what fucks up my life,” he told comrade Sturgill Simpson in a prescient feature published shortly before his death. But the songwriter, guitarist, fiddler, and country music pioneer left behind a lot more than his rip-roaring live performances when he passed away on his birthday earlier this year. Haggard wrote his songs about hard living and hard times, and they weren’t wholly imagined scenarios: The California native spent time behind bars in the late ‘50s, inspiring some of his most popular songs like “Mama Tried,” “Hungry Eyes,” and “Branded Man.” Haggard popularized what became known as the Bakersfield Sound — a less polished twang than the country music that generally came out of Nashville, and a sound that combined electric, rock 'n' roll elements with honky-tonk sensibilities. His rebellion against the overly polished pushed beyond the studio, too, and Haggard won many fans for his frank representation of working class Americans on matters that spanned from the Vietnam War to old-fashioned values. Haggard came up playing dive bars and fighting his way to listeners and, as the divide between pop-country and traditional country sounds grows more prominent, Haggard and his legacy are more important than ever.

Guy Clark (November 6, 1941 – May 17, 2016)

A songwriter’s songwriter, Guy Clark wasn’t just a legend; he was the storyteller that inspired an era’s worth of legends. Born in Monahans, Texas, Clark was integral in shaping Nashville’s outlaw country culture. Beyond his own illustrious career, though, Clark wrote songs for some of the genre’s top-selling and most-beloved artists over the decades, ranging from Johnny Cash, John Denver, and David Allan Coe to Vince Gill, Brad Paisley, and Kenny Chesney. And once he reached the upper echelon of Nashville’s songwriting community, he was notorious for lending a hand to the city’s next big voices, including Gillian Welch and Ashley Monroe. Fans of country music are inextricably fans of Guy Clark, whether they’re aware of his vast influence or not and, while his wit, talent, and presence will be sorely missed, his effect on the artists he left behind will soar for decades to come.

Ralph Stanley (February 25, 1927 – June 23, 2016)

For many bluegrass listeners, Ralph Stanley’s distinctive vocals and deft banjo picking epitomized the genre. He got his start performing with his brother Carter, first as the Clinch Mountain Boys and then finding fame (and a record deal) as the Stanley Brothers. Regular radio spots gave way to studio recordings and the duo performed together for almost two decades before Carter passed away in 1966. Ralph struggled with the decision to continue performing as a solo artist, reviving their old Clinch Mountain Boys moniker for his rotating collaborations. Stanley recorded with the likes of Ricky Skaggs, Curly Ray Cline, Larry Sparks, and Keith Whitley, but his career reached new heights at the turn of the millennium when he was featured on the blockbuster soundtrack for O’ Brother, Where Art Thou? This jolt in the picking pioneer’s career exposed his work to a new generation of budding bluegrass fans, ensuring that the traditions he helped to craft would remain intact through the ages.

Jean Shepard (November 21, 1933 – September 25, 2016)

To be sure, country music has a lot of pioneers, each one blazing a path followed by generation after generation, and Ollie Imogene "Jean" Shepard must surely be counted among them. A honky-tonk singer and country traditionalist who came up in the 1950s, Shepard released 73 singles and recorded 24 albums between 1956 and 1981, becoming a member of the Grand Ole Opry in 1955 and an inductee into the Country Music Hall of Fame in 2011. Shepard's first number one country hit, "A Dear John Letter," was a duet with Ferlin Husky in 1953. Not only did it also climb to number four on the Billboard pop chart, the song was the first record by a female country artist to sell more than a million copies after World War II. When Shepard joined the Opry, the only two other women on the roster were Minnie Pearl and Kitty Wells. Some 60 years later, there are more than 30 and, at the time of her death from Parkinson's disease, Shepard was the Opry's longest-running living member.

Leonard Cohen (September 21, 1934 – November 7, 2016)

Leonard Cohen was first and foremost a poet — one as deserving a Nobel Prize as that awarded to his colleague Bob Dylan earlier this year. Born in Quebec in 1934, Cohen earned his chops as a writer and novelist before launching his musical career in 1967. Over a 48-year tenure, he released 14 studio albums, tackling topics such as death, relationships, religion, and politics, and culminating in his final 2016 release, You Want It Darker. "Poetry is just the evidence of life. If your life is burning well, poetry is just the ash," he told us.  Thank goodness for that beautiful pile of ash he left behind.

Leon Russell (April 2, 1942 – November 13, 2016)

The word prolific gets thrown around too freely with songwriters, but with Leon Russell it's a truly appropriate descriptor. Thirty-three albums, 400-plus songs, countless collaborations, and a healthy body of production and session work over the course of his 60-year career made Russell into a pillar of American music, one who could easily hold his own with his collaborators, like George Harrison, Ike and Tina Turner, and longtime friend Elton John. If there is a single song of Russell's many that stands out as one of the greatest of the American songbook (and it's hard to choose just one), it's "A Song for You," the soulful, vulnerable lover's lament that opened his 1970 solo debut album, Leon Russell. Over 100 artists — as varied as Whitney Houston, Zakk Wylde, and Willie Nelson — would go on to cover that track. The most-beloved cover, of course, is Donny Hathaway's, recorded for his own sophomore album just one year later, quickly becoming a classic itself. The legacy of "A Song for You" is something of a microcosm of Russell's own legacy which has touched artists of all genres, all ages, all walks of life. On the surface, it's a quiet legacy — Russell isn't, after all, a household name on the level of John or Harrison. But it's a legacy that cuts through such chatter on the strength of its powerful songs — songs that, to borrow a phrase from the man himself, listen like they were written just for you. 

Sharon Jones (May 4, 1956 – November 18, 2016)

Sharon Jones’s powerful vocals, on-stage vigor, and charming warmth felt boundless — the kind of energy that would never give out. Jones was born in Augusta, Georgia, and grew up in Brooklyn, New York, and, while music was always a force in her life, her breakout success didn’t come early — she released her first full-length record at age 40. With Sharon Jones & the Dap-Kings, she released five full-length albums before the group’s sixth, Give the People What They Want, was nominated for a Grammy in 2014. Largely credited for the still-kicking revival of soul music, Jones was just as much a powerhouse off the stage. In 2013, she was diagnosed with pancreatic cancer, delaying the release of Give the People What They Want as she underwent chemotherapy. Upon her triumphant return to live performances, she didn’t bother with wigs — that would get in the way of her dancing, of course — and dove right in with the same kind of energy and charisma that has always distinguished the Dap-Kings. They toured, recorded, and released a Christmas album, and brought fans into their world with a documentary. Through every obstacle — including the recurrence of the disease that would ultimately lead to her death — Jones exuded a grace and excitement that will live forever in her legacy.


Lede photo credit: victorcamilo via Foter.com / CC BY-ND.

MIXTAPE: Patterson Hood’s Americana 101

Americana was a name that used to trouble me when it first came into semi-vogue in the late 1990s. I didn’t really like alt-country, either. So many people tended to love the music and hate the various names for the genre that the original No Depression magazine even poked fun at that on their nameplate. That said, it was probably the most exciting sub-genre of its time and has had a quite impressive afterlife, growing to actually be a somewhat mainstream way for a wide variety of excellent artists to be marketed to an increasingly larger audience.

My playlist leans heavy on the turn of the (last) century’s roots of this genre, but I also hope to incorporate a little of the more interesting current songs and maybe a couple that pre-date the movement that are excellent examples of its origin. — Patterson Hood, Drive-By Truckers

Son Volt — “Windfall” (from Trace, 1995)

Probably the one song that best exemplifies and encapsulates everything that is great about this genre in three glorious minutes of musical confection that is so good it set up a blueprint for a genre and transcends most everything that followed that path.

Lucinda Williams — “Drunken Angel” (from Car Wheels on a Gravel Road, 1998)

Lucinda’s long-delayed Car Wheels on a Gravel Road survived its troubled gestation to become one of the genres first breakout hits and turned her into a bonafide star, winning Grammys and a life-long following along the way. Picking one song from this album was hard, but to me, the best of all was this ode to the life and untimely death of Austin Texas singer/songwriter Blaze Foley. Stunning.

Merle Haggard — “If I Could Only Fly” (from If I Could Only Fly, 2000)

Merle predates anything else in the Americana genre, but his music defined the best that it had to offer. By 2000, country music had moved in a much more mainstream direction, and Merle found a new following among the disaffected punks and roots rockers that alt-country drew and that he continued to inspire. ANTI- Records seized this opportunity, and gave Merle the chance to make exactly the kind of album that mainstream country wouldn’t. He rose to the occasion with this masterpiece. Merle was, himself, one of the best songwriters of all time, but for this compilation, I chose his cover of Blaze Foley’s masterful song that Merle loved enough to make the title cut of his “comeback” album.

The Silos — “I’m Over You” (from The Silos, 1990)

Although Americana is most widely associated with the late ’90s through the present, it had roots dating back to The Basement Tapes by Bob Dylan and the Band and the tons of incredible albums that it inspired, followed by the cult status of a wonderful band from St. Louis, Missouri, called Uncle Tupelo. However, in the most unlikely of times — the ’80s, which were way better known for new wave and bad drum sounds — R.E.M. and the Silos made records that took the best elements of those sounds and made them their own. The Silos never had near the amount of fame that they deserved, but their records still hold up as among the best albums of their time and beyond.

R.E.M. — “(Don’t Go Back to) Rockville” (from Reckoning, 1984)

Although they are usually better known for their later hit records, this gem from R.E.M.’s second album helped lay out a blueprint for the Americana genre and still holds up as an example of just how wonderful they always were. There’s no overstating what a breath of fresh air this song was to our ears in the mid-80s nor how great it still sounds over 30 years later.

Steve Earle — “Ben McCulloch” (from Train a Comin’, 1995)

Another artist that pre-dated (and probably hated the term) Americana, Steve Earle broke big in the ’80s with his debut album, Guitar Town, before descending into a haze of addiction and even jail time. Upon his release from jail, he laid the groundwork for his comeback with this stripped-down collection of excellent songs, none better than this tale of a scared and disgruntled Civil War soldier.

Townes Van Zandt — “Waiting ‘Round to Die” (from Live at the Old Quarter, 1977)

Although mostly pre-dating the term Americana, no one better represented all that was great about it than Townes. Steve Earle once famously said that Townes was the greatest songwriter in the world and that he would stand on Dylan’s coffee table and shout it out anytime. I imagine that that quote has out lived its intention, but this song shows a little bit of what Mr. Earle so grandly stated. This version — and the live album that it comes from — is a great introduction to the majesty of Townes’s songwriting and the power of song in general.

Gillian Welch — “Revelator” (from Time (The Revelator), 2003)

Gillian sprung from the mid-90s Americana scene and was further propelled by the success of the Coen Brother’s 2000 film O Brother, Where Art Thou? and its breakthrough soundtrack. Then she suffered a backlash from people accusing her of being a retro-novelty act. She fired back with this shape-shifting and time-traveling masterpiece that condenses a history of folk and blues into her personal here and now and, at the same time, takes two acoustic guitars and two singers and somehow, without a hint of shouting, manages to rock like Zeppelin and Crazy Horse. Over a decade later, I’m still in love with every song on this album, but this one seems to be the one that best encapsulates it all.

Wilco — “California Stars” (from the Billy Bragg and Wilco album Mermaid Avenue, 1998)

When Uncle Tupelo broke apart in the early ’90s, the two principles formed Son Volt and Wilco. Although initially considered the lesser of the two, Wilco has gone on to become one of the foremost bands of the last 20 or so years creating an eclectic body of work that still manages to challenge and surprise each time out. In 1998, Wilco joined forces with British folk singer Billy Bragg to put music to and perform previously unheard lyrics from Woody Guthrie. The result was two of the best albums of their time. The standout and breakthrough track off this collaboration was “California Stars” — a sublime piece of work that connects several generations of artists and shows the timelessness of great songs.

Centro-matic — “Flashes and Cables” (from Love You Just the Same, 2003)

One of the greatest and definitely most underrated of bands of the last couple of decades, Centro-matic hailed from Denton, Texas, made over a dozen wonderful albums, and toured relentlessly for nearly 20 years before disbanding in 2014. Prolific to a fault, many of those songs sound like mega-hits that somehow forgot to become such. None more than this track from their 2003 masterpiece. I can’t listen to it without visualizing an arena full of fans singing along with the catchy “bye-dee-ahhs” of the finale, a musical hook so relentless and endearing that it frequently soundtracks my dreams.

Jason Isbell — “Elephant” (from Southeastern, 2013)

I first met Jason in 2000, and it was love at first song. He was barely 20 and about to drop out of college, and I was blown away by his talent as a singer, songwriter, and guitar player. A couple of years later, he began a five-year stint playing in my band. By the time he left to pursue his solo career, he was drinking very heavily and his life was spiraling out of control. In 2011, he quit drinking and pulled his life back together, documenting it all in a masterpiece of an album called Southeastern. The standout track (and that’s saying a lot, in itself) is this song about a friend’s struggle with cancer. It’s literally a perfect song.

The Bottle Rockets — “Kerosene” (from The Bottle Rockets, 1993)

Barreling out of Festus, Missouri, in 1993, Bottle Rockets put the pedal to the metal, blasting dive bars across the country like an unholy amalgamation of Skynyrd and Doug Sahm mixing punk smarts and country fury with great songs and a rocking live show. Their literary smarts were never better represented than on this gem from their self-titled debut. “Kerosene” tells the tale of being down-and-out white trash, giving heart, soul, and life to a story that — on the surface — sounds like a laughable headline of Darwinistic stupidity. A trailer fire, told from the grave with simplicity and grace: “If kerosene works, why not gasoline?” Like the best songwriting, what’s said is only a fraction of the story and the real majesty is in what is left untold. One of my all-time favorite songs.

Kelly Hogan and the Pine Valley Cosmonauts — “Papa Was a Rodeo” (from Beneath the Country Underdog, 2000)

Kelly Hogan hailed out of Atlanta, Georgia, was one of the founders of its ill-fated Redneck Underground scene, and was the lead singer in the Jody Grind, who were poised to great success before a tragic van accident that killed two of its members in 1992. Later, Kelly (who was thankfully not in the van at the time) relocated to Chicago, Illinois, where she has enthralled everyone who has ever heard her magnificent voice. She has made several albums as a solo artist, and served as a much in-demand backup singer (Neko Case, the Decemberists, Jakob Dylan). For her second solo album, she was backed up by Jon Langford’s ensemble, Pine Valley Cosmonauts, and here, along with Atlanta crooner Mike Geier, she covered the Magnetic Fields classic and made it her own. Sublime and timeless.

This is just a surface scratcher, but hopefully it will serve as an invitation to delve further into these great artists and so many more. ENJOY!


Photo credit: rkramer62 via Foter.com / CC BY

MIXTAPE: The Coal Men’s Cover Songs

Through the years, the Coal Men have traveled a lot of miles in mini-vans and rentals. We always like to catch up on tour drives and listen to music that's catching our ears. In my younger, long-hair, Fentress County, Tennessee, days, I had my silver-face SONY dual tape deck. I even DJ'd a few dances with it. Mostly, I loved making mixtapes of older songs and doodling on the Maxwell tape box blank cards. Here are some of my favorite cuts that have found their way from those old tapes into the long shows we do when we step outside of our own song catalog. — Dave Coleman

"Long Black Veil" — (Danny Dill/Marijohn Wilkin)
Johnny Cash's version was the one I heard the most growing up, but the Band's version blows me away these days. Lefty Frizzell had the first first hit with it back in 1959. It's a heartbreaking tune written from the vantage point of a corpse.

"Rain" — (John Lennon/Paul McCartney)
The Beatles' version is a masterpiece, but I learned the song from Singing Sergeant Washington, a local Tennessee band that I loved. I desperately wanted to be in that band as a 17-year-old. I finally got the chance to play guitar with them on my first gig in Nashville (at Obie's Pizza). The band, sadly, broke up. Heartbroken, I forged on and started my own group. I like to throw my best Hendrix-inspired psychedelic roots rock on the song these days. Fuzz and Sun.

"Are You Experienced?" — (Jimi Hendrix)
My favorite mixtape I had was titled FOUR: it started with that many Jimi Hendrix instrumental songs I tracked down. It was stuff where he used extreme amounts of surf-sounding wah-wah pedal (i.e. "Hornet's Nest"). I later buzzed some of my other favorite songs onto it. The backwards guitar and drums in the song — along with the pounding quarter-note piano — are monumental. We now do a fun stripped-down roots rock version.

*Here are the Coal Men (with Pete Finney on pedal steel) from a few years ago down in Florida. Note the number four on my guitar — it came from the FOUR mixtape.

"Rock N Roll Girl" — (Paul Collins)
The Beat, a short-lived L.A. band, recorded this simple-but-perfect taste of power-pop delight. We do it fast, loud, and always for a gem of a bartender named George. The Paul Collins Beat did a record a few years ago that blew me away called Ribbon of Gold.

"Six Days on the Road" — (Dave Dudley)
It's been covered by tons of folks. What's the reason why? It might be the best truck-driving song ever. We just played a show with Mathew Ryan and I had to dedicate this one to him because he'd just "pulled out of Pittsburgh" to come down to Nashville to record his next record.

"Guitars, Cadillacs" – (Dwight Yoakam)
My life changed when I heard Dwight's original guitar player/producer Pete Anderson. Duane Jarvis told me a story about playing guitar with Dwight Yoakam on a Canadian tour. (Pete was producing the Meat Puppets at the time.) He went for the solo, and people were going crazy, and he thought he was on fire with the guitar. He turned around as Dwight was doing one of his killer dance moves. Sometimes it's not the notes you play, but how you shake them that counts, I guess. Jokes aside, this is a sad song about a land of "lost and wasted dreams" with a shuffle that won't stop.

"Everybody's Talkin'" — (Fred Neil)
I love Western movies and, when I was a kid, I rented Midnight Cowboy from Jamestown Video for a dollar. It is not, in fact, a Western. I still loved it, though. The version recorded by Harry Nilsson haunts the movie throughout in joyful, saddening beauty.

"Silver Wings" — (Merle Haggard)
In my opinion, this is the definition of a perfect song. One chorus and one verse. I cried when Merle died. We love to play this song for the travelers and the lonely ones they leave behind.

"Drive Back to You" — (Duane Jarvis)
I met Duane shortly after I moved to Nashville. He was my rock 'n' roll professor. He had this gritty and tasteful guitar playing with Brit-rock influenced songs. I toured a lot with him and we wrote dozens of songs together. This one was about his wife Denise. Duane passed away in 2009, but his music is still with me and lifts me up. I love to sing this song with the joy he brought to it.

"Jesus on the Mainline" — (Traditional arranged by Ry Cooder)
This song explains that beautiful relationship a Protestant has with the maker. You can talk to that friend any time you want — no busy signal, no answering machine. I'm a fan of traditional songs with a simple form. It allows the players to open up with confidence of the rock solid foundation underneath. That's something we could all use in our everyday lives. Ry Cooder's version has all of this hypnotic melodic playing that is as transcendental as it gets.