It’s hard to imagine Billy Strings as anything other than the glass-shattering guitar virtuoso he’s become. Over a decade, he’s flipped, rearranged, and altogether transformed bluegrass music. He leads with instinct, allowing the music to speak on a much deeper level than many of his contemporaries. Four albums deep into his career, in addition to a live album and several collaborative projects, Strings immerses himself in the tradition of string music while bringing a fresh, exciting perspective to the classic structures of flatpickin’.
Our November 2024 Artist of the Month, Strings continues cementing his legacy by stretching boundaries and pushing progressively forward. With a foot firmly rooted in the past, always feeling ripped from another era, the musician remains intently focused on breathing life into the genre for modern audiences. As much as he’s built upon his growing solo catalog, he’s also known to frequent other artists’ work and inject his unique charms into their shared musical performances.
Strings has remained committed to bluegrass and jamgrass through the last 10 years and more, while often stepping outside these tight genre boxes for some playful excursions. From appearing on a Dierks Bentley song to teaming up with a rap juggernaut-turned-country-star Post Malone, the Michigan native keeps an open musical mind and heart. He’s an unstoppable force, always willing to try something new.
Below, we’ve put together nine of Billy Strings’ best features, both on his own projects and on others’ releases, too.
“Things to Do” with Zach Top
Zach Top recently released a three-track collaborative EP with Billy Strings as an Apple Music exclusive. “Things to Do” sees the duo injecting the track with a healthy helping of pep. The pair swaps off verses, each bringing their strengths to the performance.
“Girl, it just ain’t right / You’re burning up my daylight,” they sing. On a wide stretch of musical canvas, Top and Strings paint with vitality and urgency. The special release also includes a cover of Ricky Skaggs’ 1983 classic “Don’t Cheat in Our Hometown” and “Bad Luck,” another Top original, which appeared on his 2024 studio album Cold Beer and Country Music.
“California Sober” featuring Willie Nelson
On the eve of Willie Nelson’s 90th birthday, the country legend hopped aboard “California Sober” with Billy Strings. The rollicking track celebrates weed in moderation, finding the pair giving up late-night parties and weekend binges for a chiller sort of high.
In classic Nelson fashion, dusty strings give an air of a traveling tune and barreling down the highway at 100 miles an hour. The one-off collab single (written by Strings, Aaron Allen, and Jon Weisberger) demonstrates someone maturing and realizing that some vices should be left in the past. But regardless, the duo still cheekily admits: “the devil on my shoulder always wins.”
“M-E-X-I-C-O” with Post Malone
Post Malone dove head first into country music with the release of 2024’s F-1 Trillion. Featuring everyone from Dolly Parton and Tim McGraw to Luke Combs and Lainey Wilson, the collaborative set made quite a splash – seeing the rapper swerve into modern country with his own special twist. “M-E-X-I-C-O” is a certified barn-burner, among the project’s standout moments. Credit should be given generously to Billy Strings, who infuses his twangy, finger-pickin’ bluegrass style into the explosive, toe-tapping experience.
“The Great Divide” with Luke Combs
“The Great Divide” arrived in 2021 as a cautionary tale during troubling sociopolitical times.
“We’re striking matches on the TV / Setting fires on our phones,” warns Combs in the opening line. The singer fuels those flames throughout the song, sending smoke signals as things methodically escalate. “We’re all so far, far apart now / It’s as deep as it is wide / We’re about to fall apart now,” the lyrics burst like dynamite.
The song isn’t all doom and gloom, though. Later on, the lyrics detail how many strangers love one another despite glaring differences. Several years later, the song rings even more eerily poignant than ever before.
“Dooley’s Farm” with Molly Tuttle
A long-time fan of The Dillards’ classic, “Dooley,” Molly Tuttle updates the story to reflect an elderly man’s penchant for growing weed. “Dooley’s Farm” is a slower ditty, unlike the giddy-up pace of the Dillards’ song, and darker in tone and feel.
Strings lends his voice for spooky backing vocals, poking through the track like a ghost in the night. Their performance is found on Tuttle’s 2022 album, Crooked Tree.
“You can hide by day, but the night will find you / They caught Dooley in the moonlight,” whispers Tuttle over the gentle cry of a fiddle.
“Too Stoned to Cry” with Margo Price
Margo Price had been wanting to record “Too Stoned to Cry” for years, ever since hearing its writer Andrew Combs perform the lonesome ballad. Working with Beau Bedford, she convinced the producer to put his magical touch on the song. When it came to enlisting a duet partner, Price turned to Billy Strings, who turns in a sinewy and evocative lead performance.
“There’s whiskey and wine and pills for the pain / Fast, easy women and a little cocaine,” they sing, their voices tangling like barbed wire. With its frayed, tired edges, the song proves to be an ample showcase for both singers’ talents. It’s as classic as you can possibly get these days.
“I Will Not Go Down” with Amythyst Kiah
On her 2024 album Still + Bright, Amythyst Kiah reaches into the depths of her songcraft for a cinematic stunner. With Billy Strings in tow, “I Will Not Go Down” pounds with alarming emotional urgency. Taking cues from such film staples as Avatar: The Last Airbender and Lord of the Rings, Kiah mounts an expedition across space and time, metaphorically speaking, as she slays dragons and seeks life’s simple truths. Strings supplies a startlingly resonant knit of guitar work that punctuates Kiah’s flame-throwing vocals.
“Muscle Car” with Andy Hall
Two musical forces collide for a bedeviling five-minute epic on “Muscle Car.” With no vocal line, the composition here sizzles and pops, as it transmits its very own story through the power of instruments.
Andy Hall’s 2023 album, Squareneck Soul, delivers a torrential downpour of raw storytelling. Hall (of the Infamous Stringdusters) expertly offers up rip-roaring string work, matched with his companions’ equally engaging performances. The track also features Sierra Hull (mandolin), Wes Corbett (banjo), and Travis Book (bass), who all band together for one of the decade’s finest bluegrass moments.
“Bells of Every Chapel” with Sierra Ferrell
Sierra Ferrell pulls Billy Strings along for a charming lovesick gallop with “Bells of Every Chapel.” Found on her 2021 album, Long Time Coming, the mid-tempo track sees Ferrell peering through rose-tinted glass, examining unrequited love that squeezes your heart.
“They were ringing so clear/ But you couldn’t hear/ And your heart could never be mine,” she sings. Old-timey in spirit, the song soars higher and higher with Strings’ choo-choo train flatpicking.
Undefinable by a single era, genre, or instrument, Jerry Douglas’ otherworldly picking prowess on Dobro and lap steel guitar knows no bounds. Whether it’s running through Flatt & Scruggs songs with the Earls of Leicester, kicking up covers like The Beatles’ “While My Guitar Gently Weeps,” or conjuring up jazz-like improv jams, the sixteen-time GRAMMY winning musician has a way of drawing the listener in with his tasteful tunes.
That trend continues on The Set, his first studio album since 2017 – although he did stay busy producing records for Molly Tuttle, Steep Canyon Rangers, John Hiatt, Cris Jacobs, and others during the time in between. Released on September 20, the record captures the sound of Douglas’ live set with his current band – Daniel Kimbro (bass), Christian Sedelmyer (violin), and multi-instrumentalist Mike Seal – with a mix of new and original compositions, reworkings of older songs from his catalog, a couple of intriguing covers, and even a concerto.
BGS caught up with Douglas ahead of his tour dates in support of the new record – and his induction into the Bluegrass Music Hall of Fame this week – to discuss the motivation behind The Set, the similarities between Molly Tuttle and Alison Krauss, and much more.
This is your first album in over seven years. What was your motivation for returning to the studio after such a large gap?
Jerry Douglas: I’ve been doing records for everyone else those past seven years. [Laughs] We’d go out and play a show and people would come up afterward and ask where they could find this song or that song. It got me thinking, since the songs I play live are scattered across many different records — some of which are out of print — that it’d be a good idea to get them all into one place, one album. It’s not a compilation record by any means, it’s just how I love to hear these songs now.
Speaking of how you love to hear these songs now, you’ve recorded many of them in the past. This includes “From Ankara To Izmir,” which you first recorded on lap steel before opting for the Dobro this time. What led to that shift?
When you first write a song you don’t know it, because you haven’t lived with it yet. You need to play it about 100 times and really flesh it out to see what all’s in there. When I originally recorded “From Ankara To Izmir” in 1987 for the MCA Master Series we had a much bigger, bolder band around it. However, the more I got to playing it out live the better the Dobro felt on it. It allows me to be more dynamic with the song, which I also cut with drums in 1993 before switching things up and leaving them out this time.
We actually haven’t used drums since the record I made with John Hiatt in 2021. He didn’t want them, so we used the rest of my band… it felt great having all that space the drums usually filled back, so we just continued as a four-piece after that. It’s gone on to inform a lot of the music on this record, not just with that one song.
I love the evolution that songs can take over time, whether it’s something as simple as changing out one instrument like you’ve done a couple times here or going from a full band to something that’s solo acoustic. Different arrangements breathe completely different life into a song, and your record is a great example of that.
Even Miles Davis recorded a lot of his songs two or three times with different bands. He wanted to hear them with the band he was with at that moment, which all included different people, personalities, characteristics, and playing styles. Music is meant to evolve over time as influences and circumstances change. Songs are traveling through their life collecting little pieces to add to themselves just like the rest of us do.
That room to experiment is only expanded with your band, who you’ve been with now for eight years. How did the chemistry you have with them help to drive the sonic exploration behind The Set?
Like you said, we’ve been together for a long time now. We’ve been everywhere together and have become good at picking up nonverbal cues from one another. A lot of times I’ll just give Daniel a look and he knows what to do. That trust allows us the freedom to experiment and keep things fresh for ourselves, which in turn keeps it fresh for the audience as well, whom we don’t ever want to leave behind.
That same attention to detail can be felt in the album artwork as well, which I understand comes from a connection you made across the pond while there for the Transatlantic Sessions?
Yes. William Matthews is a famous western watercolor artist who was in Scotland with me when we started rehearsing for the Transatlantic Sessions right after COVID. We typically tour the country at the end of January and into February for 10 days playing the entire show and William was following us around painting. One day I walked into his hotel room and his paintings were all the way around the wall. One of them was of Doune Castle – seen in both Monty Python & The Holy Grail and Game Of Thrones – that, unbeknownst to us at the time, ended up becoming The Set’s cover art.
Earlier we touched on all the producing work you’ve been up to lately. One of those has been Molly Tuttle, who you’ve worked with on her past two GRAMMY-winning albums. Given your close ties to another trailblazing woman of bluegrass, Alison Krauss, do you notice any similarities between the two and the approach they have to their craft?
They’re both amazing singers. I learned a long time ago that when Alison tells me she can do better, she does, and Molly’s the same. Both have a way of exceeding my expectations on a take when I thought they couldn’t do better than the one just before it, but every time the new one turns out head and shoulders above the one that I had been satisfied with. It’s taught me to always trust the artist no matter who it is I’m working with.
In that same sense, I think about Earls of Leicester as Flatt & Scruggs – what if they’d said “wait a minute” and gone back in [to the studio] to change one little thing? When you’re recording, everything happens so fast that you can come back to it and go in a completely different direction. That’s what I love so much about my new record, even some of the mistakes that I made on it aren’t really mistakes, they’re just different directions.
What has music taught you about yourself?
I’m an introvert who can speak in front of thousands of people and have a good time at a party, but when I’m alone I’m really alone, but in a positive way. It’s like having two lives, but I’m not acting in either one of them. What a privilege it is to be true to yourself and have a full life at the same time. I get to go out and play music, then come home and fix the faucet.
Lead Image: Madison Thorn; Alternate Image: Scott Simontacchi.
“Bluegrass music is a truly American artform. It reflects the culture and the time in which it’s created, and as with many traditional artforms, a preservationist stance is held on a pedestal. Bluegrass music’s history is very gendered, and when this happens, the music can’t reach its full potential.”
My teacher Laura Orshaw told me this.
There has been no shortage of amazing women bluegrass musicians to come out of the roots department at Berklee College of Music. Gillian Welch, Sierra Hull, Molly Tuttle, Bronwyn Keith-Hynes, and on and on. I’m going into my senior year at Berklee this fall as a mandolin principle, and one of the reasons I went to Berklee was how inspired I was by these women and their music.
Towards the end of my sophomore year, my friend Katelynn Casper – a brilliant bluegrass fiddler – came up with an idea. She wanted to start a bluegrass ensemble of all women and non-binary folks. Katelynn approached Matt Glaser, the artistic director of the American Roots Music Program, about helping us create a class in which we would study and perform in a group. Excited by the prospect, he brought in Laura Orshaw (the Po’ Ramblin’ Boys) to be our mentor. In the past few years, there had been a strong influx of women who came to Berklee and wanted to play roots music, so it didn’t take us long to find people who wanted to join the project.
The ensemble started in October of 2023 with about 12 members, enough for us to break into two ensembles. I got to be in both groups, in one as mandolinist and the other as bassist. Our focus between both groups was to play music mostly written by women who we looked up to and were maybe overlooked.
Through the course of our year together, we moved through a catalog of songs and tunes written by our heroes and then delved into original material. We wrote songs and tunes together and on our own and fleshed them out as a band. It was an empowering experience to be a part of and it was beautiful to watch my friends explore a new kind of confidence in their music.
This past April, the American Roots Music Program sent all of us down to Washington, D.C. In June of 2022, the Smithsonian Center for Folklife and Cultural Heritage opened up an exhibit entitled Music HerStory: Women and Music of Social Change. Laura had caught wind of the exhibit and wanted us to visit, so we could witness its content and impact. The exhibit explored many women who were significantly overlooked in music, but yet the world would have been drastically different had their music not been a part of it.
We heard and read stories of when Loretta Lynn put out “The Pill” and how much of an uproar it caused; stories of how Elizabeth Cotten had to put her music on hold to raise her children and didn’t come back to it until she was in her 60s, putting out “Freight Train” and “Oh Babe It Ain’t No Lie” and still was not given much credit.
Walking through the exhibit, I couldn’t help but think about all the different musical influences I have and how so many of those influences were inspired by these women, but how that was never really talked about.
On the same trip, we also got the privilege of going to Smithsonian Folkways Recordings and learning about some of the history of their record label and how it came to be. When we were checking it out, both ensemble bands did a little recording in the archives to commemorate the trip. Playing our originals and covers written by powerful women was an incredible experience. We were surrounded by original recordings and records that made bluegrass and old-time what it is now and some of the music that brought each of us to the genres to begin with.
While we were down in D.C., we also got the chance to hang out with Kimber Ludiker (fiddle) and Avril Smith (guitar), two members of Della Mae. In both groups, the inspiration from Della Mae was so apparent – we all learned many of their songs. Getting to stand up and play their songs with them was a mind-blowing experience.
Taking part in this project has been such an inspiring experience. As a kid who grew up in the bluegrass and old-time world, there weren’t always a lot of women to play music with, so to get the opportunity to dedicate time each week to just sit down with a group of deeply passionate women and non-binary folks who are also such remarkable roots musicians was an indescribably moving experience.
A common conversation amongst us during that time was how freeing and comfortable it felt to play music in a setting like this. Whether or not you think about it, music as a whole is an intensely male dominated world – and bluegrass isn’t any different.
“Here’s a question that crossed our minds every week,” Laura said. “‘What would bluegrass be like without patriarchy or bias?’ The answer comes through music, not essays, and this project certainly chipped away at our goal.”
Being in this ensemble, I learned a lot about myself. Being surrounded by a community of women and non-binary folks playing music taught me a lot about my confidence as both a person and a musician. Being in that environment gave me an amazing place to explore.
“When Matt [Glaser] asked me to be the curator of this project, I couldn’t have guessed how impactful and enlightening it would be for me. Working in an all-women and non-binary band filled a void for all of us – creatively, academically, and socially,” Laura continued. “Students shared experiences of the not-so-glamorous parts of working in a male-dominated field. They studied the music and songs of their heroes, who sometimes got overlooked in other classes and ensembles. They wrote songs, arranged music, and tried on different leadership roles in the band.
“But most of all, they encouraged and inspired each other to be better musicians. The mutual dedication and enthusiasm were palpable in every rehearsal.”
It’s been an experience of a lifetime to learn the music I love with a group of women who want to push the boundaries of the genre. To sit with a group of people who understand the intricacies of being a woman or gender non-confirming person playing bluegrass – or even music in general – was a very comforting experience. We all grew so much as people and musicians.
Photos courtesy of Emma Turoff. Lead image: Ensemble, No Man’s Land. Inset image: Ensemble, Ain’t That Just Like A Man.
Brat summer has come to bluegrass music – like seemingly every other corner of our culture. This viral social media sensation continues to mystify internet scrollers, news anchors, journalists, and analysts of certain generations, but the trend – based on the wildly popular hyperpop/dance album, brat, released by DJ and pop star Charli XCX in June – has found a sure footing in one perhaps unlikely corner of the music industry: bluegrass.
This fact was no more evident to the editorial staff at BGS than at our A Bluegrass Situation after show at Newport Folk Festival last month, where recent BGS Artist of the Month and banjo magnate Tony Trischka posed an earth-shattering question to the cavalcade of bluegrass and roots music stars waiting backstage: “Who here is brat?”
Reactions were mixed. Trischka and his cohort attempted to explain “brat” to the gathered artists and comedians; those with knowledge of the conversation hesitated to identify who among the star-studded lineup identified as “brat” to Trischka and who did not, out of respect for those present.
While our Newport Folk Festival lineup may have been an organic blend of brat and non-brat, elsewhere in the roots scene critically-acclaimed and award winning artists, pickers, and bands have gleefully brought brat to the forefront of a busy bluegrass festival and music camp season with many videos and posts celebrating brat summer. Impeccable instrumentalists, GRAMMY and IBMA Award nominees and winners, and industry leaders have all been seen making posts, referencing brat, and doing viral accompanying dance moves for XCX’s “Apple.” Meanwhile, new acoustic string band supergroup Hawktail have declared it’s a “Britt summer,” instead, celebrating their bandmate, fiddler Brittany Haas.
Do you or someone you know identify as brat? Are you, too, enjoying a bratgrass summer? You aren’t alone. These bluegrass artists and bands are certainly brat. And, with a few more weeks left before we usher in fall, there’s still plenty of time for bratgrass to continue to entrance and enlighten the bluegrass community.
Look, we already knew Sister Sadie are brat, because No Fear = brat. The transitive property applies. Brat brat brat. Whatever this legendary lineup tackles, from exciting covers to TikTok dance trends, we’re here for it. Bratgrass epitomized. No notes, very demure. Very cutesy.
Mandolinist, instructor, multi-instrumentalist, and coffee expert Maddie Witler was one of the very first bluegrass adopters of brat – some would argue, even well before the eponymous album. Witler has toured and performed with so many of bluegrass’s greats from all across the genre map, and now has crafted a vibrant online presence and business through TikTok, Patreon, and, of course, bringing the “Apple” dance and brat chartreuse to bluegrass.
Missy Raines is one of the winningest musicians in the history of the IBMA. Clearly, Raines is also brat. Here, she and members of her band, Allegheny (Ellie Hakanson and Tristan Scroggins), are joined by the Onlies (Sami Braman, Vivian Leva, Riley Calcagno, Leo Shannon) as well as several other instructors and musicians at Targhee Music Camp in Alta, Wyoming in the Grand Tetons. Sounds plenty brat to us!
In-demand guitarist and multi-instrumentalist Seth Taylor currently tours with Sarah Jarosz, bringing brat with them everywhere they go. Or, should we say, “brat paisley summer.” Which, naturally, we’ve gone ahead and agreed is 100% a thing. Taylor is a bluegrass shredder who’s performed and recorded with countless artists and bands in country, Americana, folk, and beyond. Plus, his tasty acoustic guitar cover of Sabrina Carpenter’s “Please Please Please” feels pretty brat to us, too.
While we wish we could report a Pickin’ on Brat album is currently in the works or that Charli XCX will launch surprise bluegrass remixes with a Sierra Ferrell feature verse coming soon, rest assured the BGS team will continue to monitor, address, and report on the very important issue of bratgrass to our audience and readers – brat or not.
As more and more TikTok trends and hits from the current pop and Top 40 charts filter into string band music – like Taylor Ashton or Sister Sadie covering Chappell Roan, Seth Taylor’s “Please Please Please” rendition, Molly Tuttle singing Beyoncé, and many more examples crossing our feeds daily – it’s clear this bratgrass summer is first and foremost for the demure and mindful rootsy girls, gays, theys, and every brat in between.
Banjoist Tony Trischka is a brilliant creator, an entertainer, and educator who makes his own time. He’s always on the run, trying new things and yet also always ready to stop and have a friendly chat and a catch up. His musical life includes teaching, performing, and recording as well as studying music history. And, at a very young 75, he’s always up for an impromptu jam.
In 1976, when he was 28, Oak Publications published his Melodic Banjo, an instruction book featuring his transcription tablatures of pieces by and introductions to the top players of this new style of bluegrass banjo in which he was already recognized as a virtuoso. The book became a modern bluegrass banjo classic and was later published in new editions by Hal Leonard.
When Rounder reissued Tony’s first two albums as Tony Trischka the Early Years, Berklee’s Matt Glaser wrote:
Rarely, perhaps three or four times a century, some music will be created that is a pure explosive expression of life energy and uncontaminated joy. The music on this CD is, in my humble opinion, exactly that. … I put Tony’s early music in the same category as the best of Charles Mingus, Cecil Taylor, Scotty Stoneman, and Wagner, mad and magnificent. … It’s some of the most unjustly neglected of all popular music masterpieces.
Tony’s passion about bluegrass banjo history came to the fore in 1988 when he co-edited “the most comprehensive banjo book ever written,” Masters of the 5-String Banjo, with Pete Wernick, his partner in the early ‘70s band Country Cooking.
There’s not enough room here to write about Tony’s full career, but it’s important to know that in addition to performing on the banjo doing everything from straight-ahead bluegrass to rock, avant garde, and theater, he’s also a band leader, producer, teacher and historian. A Grammy nominee and winner of the IBMA’s 2007 Banjo Player of the Year award, he now teaches an online banjo course for ArtistWorks, and continues to appreciate the pleasures and challenges of jamming – the subject of his latest album, Earl Jam, which was released June 7 on Down The Road Records.
I met Tony in 1986 in New York where I was giving a lecture to promote my new book, Bluegrass: A History. We got together afterward to explore our shared interest in bluegrass banjo. Since then, we’ve worked together on several projects, the latest being Earl Jam.
In November 1990, we reconnected at the Tennessee Banjo Institute. He took me to hear Institute faculty member Carroll Best, a North Carolinian who’d been playing melodic banjo since the ’50s. We ended up together at Best’s campsite. In 1992, Banjo Newsletter published our interview of him along with Tony’s transcription of his work.
Trischka’s 1993 album, World Turning, reflected his eclectic experiences in taking the banjo to the world. Bob Carlin called it “his bid to move the instrument back into the mainstream.” Beginning with an African tune, he explored the banjo in a variety of genres – minstrel, classical, old-time, ragtime, new acoustic, and rock, along with his own brand of bluegrass.
In 2001, Tony and I reconnected at Banjo Camp North in Massachusetts. In addition to its concerts and workshops featuring big-name instructors like Tony, Bill Keith, Pete Wernick, Tony Ellis, and Bill Evans, there was free time for informal music-making. Tony and I spent a pleasant evening jamming together.
For his 2007 album, Double Banjo Bluegrass Spectacular, Trischka recorded duets with 10 banjo pickers, with backing by top-flight bluegrass instrumentalists. These recordings have taken on new meaning now that some of his musical partners on this award-winning production – Earl Scruggs, Kenny Ingram, Bill Emerson, and Tony Rice – are no longer with us. The album introduced a generation of young musicians, showing the remarkable depth of Tony’s musical connections.
Tony’s brand new Down The Road album, Earl Jam: A Tribute to Earl Scruggs, reflects his longstanding interest in bluegrass banjo’s late founder. The album began during the pandemic, when Banjo Newsletter columnist, Bob Piekiel, author of “Earl’s Way” and a Scruggs family friend, sent Tony a thumb drive containing two hundred songs and tunes recorded at jams with Earl Scruggs and John Hartford during the ’80s and ’90s.
Tony and Piekiel had been working on the “tabs” – tablatures – for a new Scruggs banjo book. Since the early 1970s, bluegrass banjo tabs have been key musical manuscripts. None are more important than those of Scruggs, whose iconic statements – the ones he recorded – were published by Scruggs himself in tabular form in 1968. Many banjo pickers learned “Foggy Mountain Breakdown” and other familiar favorites from Scruggs’ tabs.
Like any written music, tablatures are scores meant to describe how music is created on an instrument, while simultaneously prescribing how it is to be reproduced. Tony made tabs of Earl’s jam breaks so that he could recreate them. Jamming with Hartford, Scruggs played familiar pieces he’d never before recorded or performed in public. On that thumb drive, Tony found Scruggs’ impromptu banjo statements as interesting and entertaining as the old familiar recorded and transcribed ones from his commercial appearances.
Change and innovation are part of the ambiance at jam sessions. Playing an old tune or song in a new way is a sure route to pleasant interaction in these friendly musical conversations. Here, ideas are expressed, tested, embraced. Participants play for their own delectation and to pique the interests of the other jammers.
It’s not easy for those of us who enjoy hearing commercially produced Nashville music to know what goes on informally and privately in that town’s local music scenes. Beyond the bars, stages, and studios, away from the producers, who jams with whom? In 1998 when Tony interviewed the late Bobby Thompson, melodic banjo pioneer and Nashville studio A-lister, he got Bobby’s answer to that question:
Scruggs, he’s real nice. Me and him would get together and play a lot. Lately I do him and John Hartford and bunch of them come over here a lot.
In his notes to Earl’s 1972 album, I Saw the Light with Some Help from My Friends (Columbia KC 31354), Bill Williams wrote about star-packed jams at the Scruggs home, calling it “a gathering place, a watershed of talent, a place to be oneself,” adding that “while the industry has known many outstanding jam sessions, there are none quite like these.” By that time, jams had been going on at the Scruggs house for a long time.
A number of the old Flatt & Scruggs songbooks published snapshots from ’60s jam sessions at the Scruggs home. And just as some people took snapshots at such sessions, others made recordings. John Hartford had recorded his jams with Earl and given Piekiel a copy because he worried that if his house burned down all those jam recordings would be lost.
Nashville pros like Thompson and Hartford – whose success as a singer-songwriter (“Gentle On my Mind”) underwrote a unique career – would, as Thompson said, “get together and play a lot” with Scruggs. Hartford, a Scruggs fan from an early age, played the fiddle while listening with pleasure to Scruggs’ banjo statements, and began bringing a tape recorder along.
Earl and John had played what they knew, taking pleasure in attacking old favorites in new ways. After learning and transcribing Earl’s banjo jam breaks, Tony put together a band to showcase them in a show at in the New York club Joe’s Pub. What people heard was first-class bluegrass musicians along with Tony’s musical recreation of Scruggs performing an eclectic repertoire – pre-war and post-war country classics, traditional tunes, rock, bluegrass, folk and more.
On Earl Jam, which grew out of Tony’s showcase band, we hear leading contemporary artists, including Sam Bush, Michael Cleveland, Dudley Connell, Michael Daves, Jerry Douglas, Sierra Ferrell, Béla Fleck, The Gibson Brothers, Vince Gill, Brittany Haas, Del McCoury, Bruce Molsky, Billy Strings, and Molly Tuttle, in new musical conversations with Tony Trischka providing the “banjer” voice of Earl Scruggs.
Here, today’s artists each perform with their own contemporary voice while Tony, consummate and experienced stage actor that he is, takes center stage in the role of Scruggs-at-a-jam. He’s a musical equivalent of actor Hal Holbrook, who brought the voice of a famous American author to millions in his one-man show “Mark Twain Tonight.”
A good example of the music on Earl Jam is “Brown’s Ferry Blues,” the album’s first single. It opens with a solo guitar break by Billy Strings during which rhythm instruments: mandolin (Sam Bush) and bass (Mark Schatz) come up behind. Then Trischka introduces one of Earl’s jam breaks, after which Strings sings the first of six verses.
After each verse, we hear an instrumental solo. First comes Michael Cleveland, who throws in some licks associated with Foggy Mountain Boys fiddler Benny Martin. Next is Bush playing his usual great, hot stuff.
After verse 3, Tony plays not one but two more Scruggs jam breaks, each quite different from the other. After verse 4, producer and banjoist Béla Fleck contributes a statement in his unique style. Following the next verse there’s a blazing guitar break from Strings, who then sings a newly composed verse that names everyone at this live session, after which the track closes with all five instruments going full-bore as if at a jam – instruments like voices at a cocktail party.
Tony’s newfound conversations demonstrate Earl’s economy and genius, and his ability to inject feeling – humor, soul, hot, cool – in unexpected places. Scruggs’ musical vision is an education and a pleasure. We’re grateful to Tony for capturing it, preserving and showcasing it.
This truly is a unique album. Each track combines the contexts of bluegrass and theater. We hear bluegrass and old-time music’s standard verses and instrumental breaks. They are mixed so that we can visualize each musician stepping up to the mic to sing or pick. And then the curtains open and Trischka appears spotlighted in a cameo closeup delivering lines – breaks – that Earl spoke at the end of the century, when he was in his 70s.
It’s ironic that tabs have crystallized an aural model of Earl Scruggs’s banjo playing based largely on his ’40s and ’50s work with Monroe and Flatt. That music became the model for classic bluegrass. It still sounds great today. But by the ’60s, Earl had moved on. As Tommy Goldsmith (Earl Scruggs, p. 120-123) points out, an informal backstage jam in New York with saxophone virtuoso King Curtis convinced him that he could take his banjo into other genres like rock.
As soon as he and Flatt parted ways in 1969, Earl joined his sons to form the Earl Scruggs Revue. In the following decades he played with them as well as a variety of folk, rock, and pop acts, fitting his banjo into many new contexts. By the times of his jams with Hartford, foremost in Scruggs’ mind were the then-recent years of touring with the Revue and trying new stuff.
In 1983, L.A. producer (Byrds, Flying Burrito Bros.) Jim Dickson told me why he came to like bluegrass: “It was part formal and part improvisational breaks, the same kind of structure jazz had.” (Bluegrass: A History, p. 190) Tony’s cameos highlight the improvisational genius that kept Earl’s music fresh and inspired a generation.
On Earl Jam, Trischka explores Scruggs’s genius in various ways. Several individual song arrangements have modulations (as in “Dooley” and “Casey Jones”) that show how Earl was able to recast his melodic ideas in different keys and tunings. Tracks like “Liza Jane,” “Lady Madonna,” and “Brown’s Ferry Blues” close by moving beyond solo breaks into riff trade-offs to portray the playful conversation that is the essence of jamming.
Tony’s sense of history is reflected in his repertoire choices – reflecting rich heritage and continuing experimentation. Like a painter he has blended, collaged, borrowed, and adapted widely from past art. The result is a series of vignettes building on the shared creativity of today’s most gifted singers and players while also embracing Earl’s many paths.
I visualize these tracks as tangible works of art like we might see in a museum or gallery – from antique quilts to abstract modernist paintings. BGS’s Artist of the Month, Tony Trischka, has created a veritable aural exhibition.
At 26, the prodigy phase of AJ Lee’s music career has passed. It might take a little more time for the tendency to confuse her with a professional wrestler using the same name to fade away.
“I think I could take her!” Lee — the singing one — gamely pronounces at the conclusion of an interview on the third album by AJ Lee & Blue Summit, City of Glass (out July 19 on Signature Sounds), prompting laughter from the band’s Scott Gates, who asserts himself on the new album writing three songs on which he sings lead.
Rounding out Santa Cruz, California-based Blue Summit are fiddler Jan Purat and guitarist Sullivan Tuttle, one of the children of educator-musician Jack Tuttle and brother of breakout star Molly Tuttle. Lee also got her start with “The Tuttles with AJ Lee.”
A keen sense of humor dots City of Glass, which was produced by Lech Wierzynski of “retro-soul” band The California Honeydrops. It was Wierzynski who suggested Harlan Howard’s “He Called Me Baby,” on which Lee delivers a notably sultry lead vocal. The reference point for her version of “He Called Me Baby” is soul singer Candi Stanton, rather than Patsy Cline or Charlie Rich.
“I was raised to sing pretty straightforward. I wanted to remove as much ego as I could, because I just wanted to sing and have fun,” Lee said. “I’ve learned to put a little bit more of my personality into it and that, I think, is making me a better singer overall, which is why we wanted to work with Lech in the first place, because he’s such a powerful singer.
“That really resonated with me and I’m trying to move more in that direction.”
Gates pipes up at this point: “AJ’s not going to say this, but Lech brought ‘He Called Me Baby’ to the table because he had the foresight, coming from that soul world, he recognizes in AJ’s voice the ability to do this kind of thing.
“The cross-pollination of these American roots, is a smart move from Lech, I think,” he said.
BGS caught up with Lee and Gates as they rehearsed in Nashville, Tennessee, and prepared to do some lip synching for a video. As a seasoned bandleader, Lee takes pains to spread the credit for her success around and steers some questions toward Gates to try and ensure she doesn’t dominate the conversation.
City of Glass is AJ Lee & Blue Summit’s third album. How do you view the progression that got you to this point?
AJ Lee: The first album, [Like I Used To], we were looking for what kind of sound we wanted as a band. Because at that time, it was only four members without a fiddle player. So on that one, we had some more electric instruments and more drums. The second album, [I’ll Come Back], we went more acoustic roots, because we just wanted to play more bluegrass, because that’s what we grew up on and that’s what we do best. For this third album, we’re confident doing bluegrass, roots, and country, sticking with more stringed instruments, but also branching out. With Lech’s involvement, we’re leaning a little bit towards soul, R&B, and keeping it interesting, but still showcasing ourselves and what we like to play and what we like to do.
Several songs on City of Glass are funny. There’s one, “Toys,” making fun of a men who act like boys, another about getting “Sick on a Plane” and a humorous take on busking, “Solicitor Man.” Why so lighthearted this time around?
Scott Gates: I grew up playing bluegrass with a lot of silly guys. There’s a bouncy kind of lighthearted feel in a lot of traditional stuff. … I noticed that a lot of songs that I had written were kind of getting down into my feelings and whatnot, and I wanted to write one that I knew would be fun for my friends to play.
Are there models in bluegrass you’re following with the humor?
SG: There is a history of fun stuff like The Louvin Brothers. I’m also influenced by Jimmy Martin. Jimmy Martin is one of the pillars of bluegrass music, and he’s hilarious.
“Toys” is about a young guy or maybe an immature man. Is it about yourself, Scott?
SG: A little bit, yeah, probably as a teenager noticing the involuntary methods by which young, dumb boys go about thinking of themselves. It was mostly born out of that phrase, “The man who dies with the most toys wins.”
The title cut, “City of Glass,” is about leaving an artistic legacy. Aren’t you guys a little young to be concerned about that?
AJ: Yeah, I’m pretty young. I’m 26 now, but I have been doing music since I was really young. Collectively, we figured out that the band has about 90 years worth of experience. I’ve been playing on stage since I was about four or five years old. So I’m young, but I have been doing it for a long time. Legacy is having something that you’ve made be around even when you’re not doing it anymore. That’s a big theme of “City of Glass.”
As you say, you got started very young as musicians and Jack Tuttle was a common mentor. How did that develop?
SG: I met AJ when she was four. I knew her older sister Molly, ‘cause she’s my age. So I knew her more. But [Sullivan Tuttle] was around, and Sully and AJ had known each other since back then. I was probably about seven or eight when I first started going to the Father’s Day Festival and the music camp. So I got an opportunity to learn and play from people like John Reischman and Mike Compton and see musicians like The Osborne Brothers and Earl Scruggs. The picking scene is incredibly high quality.
AJ, you were the only non-Tuttle in the Tuttle family band when you were very young. What was that like?
AJ: I loved it. As a young kid, it’s kind of hard to be in the moment and really appreciate what you’re doing. As a seven-year-old to fifteen-year-old, I went about it as like, “OK, we’re playing a gig, I’m going to practice here and I’m going to sing my song. I’m hanging out with my friends, and that’s it.” But being in that band was definitely instrumental in my progress as a bluegrass musician, because I got to work directly with Jack Tuttle. Everyone loves Jack because he’s such a renowned teacher in the community and obviously all of his kids are talented beyond measure. So I was able to play with people who were better than me and also equal to me. My mom, growing up, she always said, “You always want to play with people who are better than you, because that’s how you’re going to get better.” And so I got to have that opportunity for many years.
Is there any competition now between yourself, Molly Tuttle and Bronwyn Keith-Hynes now that you all are competing musicians in the marketplace?
SG: Absolutely! [Laughs]
AJ: No, no, no, definitely not. For me and Molly, we’re branching off and doing our own thing. We were in a band for however many years, and now we’re off doing our own projects. And Bronwyn is branching off and doing her own projects in a similar way.
So, it’s the same in any community or genre of music, you played together and now you’re doing your own thing. Molly’s singing on our album as well, on a song [“I Can’t Find You at All”] that her dad wrote.
AJ, you could pursue a solo career, why do you prefer a band situation?
AJ: It makes me happy. I like playing with other people. I don’t really like performing by myself. I feel like I have a lot to offer, but I also like playing with people who also have a lot to offer and are amazing talents. And, you know, people compliment our band on how many singers there are. I always think that the more singers the better, the more talent you can showcase the better.
Pretty much anyone in the band could peel off and do a solo career. But I think what makes us really unique and strong as a band is that we all can be individual musicians, but we choose to play together, because it just makes the creative juices flow more and it makes us want to even continue on more than I would as a solo musician.
SG: At some point, I’ll probably do my own project. But right now, all I care about is playing music with AJ and the boys and see where this goes. I try not to plan too much. I don’t really scheme. I probably should scheme a little bit more, but I just don’t.
How does the California bluegrass scene differ from the South?
SG: A lot of people think of California as the jammy stuff, the Deadhead stuff that comes out of there. But even to this day, the California Bluegrass Association is very traditional. It’s one of the most traditional associations out there and there’s also a huge focus on singing. The singers that come out of a place like Tennessee are extremely good at blending. There’s a school of singing, and a lot of them sound very similar. Their harmonies are incredibly perfect. But California tends to reward individuality and uniqueness. The unique voices are kind of put on a pedestal.
AJ, your singing style is more subtle than showy. Why?
AJ: I agree with you. I’ve always really appreciated the subtlety of singing to where it’s not, “Look at me. Look at how well I can sing.”
“Hillside” uses the metaphor of a hill that aspires to be a mountain. What does the metaphor represent?
AJ: “Hillside” is about women empowerment. The metaphor is that you are this hill that is bombarded by all these outside elements trying to knock you down. But your foundation has become so strong and nothing’s really going to topple you over.
Have you experienced a lot of sexism in your career?
AJ: I’ve experienced some, of course. Especially after shows, you know a lot of older gentleman say things to me that obviously they mean well, but it just turns out to be very sexist. I get a lot of the, “If I was 20-years, 30-years younger” sort of statements, and it’s just like, “Ooh, gosh.”
How about general discrimination?
AJ: Yeah, especially jamming in the bluegrass community, as a woman sometimes you’ll just get into those circles that have that male energy so present and it’s really hard for women to join a jam sometimes. But I’ve learned to try to just get myself in there over the years with support from my mom and other strong women who are also in the community.
Are you on the record on where the “Blue Summit” band name originates?
AJ: Our first festival we played was a Kate Wolf festival. We actually didn’t really have a band name yet that we were happy with. The original name we hated. Our original bass player at the time, Isaac Cornelius, came up with The Highway 17 Savages, which doesn’t really resonate with our band at all. We totally needed to change this name. So we made these recordings to send in to Kate Wolf at Isaac’s house, which he grew up on the summit in Santa Cruz. So we were like bluegrass on the summit. So we became Blue Summit.
At whatever level you may be plugged into the online bluegrass scene, you have surely heard, seen, or scrolled into content by Bronwyn Keith-Hynes and Brenna MacMillan. These two young, talented pickers are part of a vibrant and blossoming community of traditional musicians and folk artists that includes folks like Cristina Vane, Victor Furtado, Hilary Klug, Wyatt Ellis, and many more.
What makes these creators stand apart, especially Keith-Hynes and MacMillan, is that they aren’t just shoehorning social media into their art-making and creative processes to move up Music City ladders and check abstract music industry boxes. Instead, they’ve intentionally demonstrated how powerful, engaging, and charming content can be when it’s made with art, creativity, tradition, and joyful, cooperative generation as its focal points. Instead of bending over backward to construct virality and lean into transient socials trends, they let their talent, their songs, and their communities do all the talking.
In May, Keith-Hynes released her second solo album, I Built a World, her first project to center songs and her recently-developed, impressive vocals. Drawing on musicians and pickers from her immediate circle and her main gig – Molly Tuttle & Golden Highway – as well as tapping notable country stars and bluegrass legends, the project finds Keith-Hynes at her most confident and unbothered. This is a fiddler-singer-front woman who has found her voice – literally, through work, practice, and vocal lessons as well as figuratively, not satisfied to craft a career on bowing the fiddle alone.
Later this year, MacMillan will release her debut solo album. Its lead single, “What’s to Come,” features Ronnie McCoury and is indeed a harbinger for the superb album to follow. This project, which highlights MacMillan’s prolific songwriting and features her musical community fleshing out the band, is built directly upon the successes she, Keith-Hynes, and others have found on the internet. Eschewing labels, management, or traditional roll outs, MacMillan will release the project herself, with funds raised on GoFundMe, bringing the music directly to her consumers on her own website and socials channels without “middle men.”
So, not only are MacMillan and Keith-Hynes innovating on ideas around what it means to be a side person, a career picker, and multi-hyphenate, professional traditional musicians, they’re taking all of their expertise as online brands and businesswomen to find success for themselves, on their own terms. They’re focusing on what matters, centering their communities, and making incredible, superlative music at the same time.
BGS connected with MacMillan and Keith-Hynes together via video chat to talk about their unique approaches to making albums, content, and music, while highlighting the deep and tight-knit “bluegrass influencer” circle they’ve each helped create since moving to Nashville and putting their all into bluegrass.
I wanted to start by talking about community and musical community – one of the reasons why I wanted to have you both in conversation with each other is how you each rely on, draw from, and center your musical communities in what you create. It may look like these are solo projects that you’re making, but they’re clearly not solitary projects – and they don’t really feel like vanity projects, either. from the outside looking in either. It really feels you’re making music with other people so you can make music with other people. Could you talk about your work, your solo albums, and working in your communities?
Bronwyn Keith-Hynes: Yeah, I think first and foremost, me and Brenna are good friends and we just ended up being drawn together. We both moved to Nashville around the same time and ended up doing a lot of things together and had a lot of similar interests. That’s cool to find. I haven’t found that many women who have my same interests until I moved to Nashville and then all of a sudden I felt like there was a whole bunch. It’s been really awesome to find that.
First of all, I’m just such a fan of so many people, and I wouldn’t want to make music any other way. My project was based around songs from my community, which was really special to me. It was like a little nerve wracking reaching out to friends and people I respected to be like, “Do you have a song that you’re not going to record that I could record?” But, thankfully, a lot of people did – including Brenna – and I ended up recording one of her songs. And, she sang on it and it was awesome!
I feel like I couldn’t do it alone. I know my strengths and then I know other people’s strengths and I want to make sure we’re all [drawing on our strenghts]. I don’t know if singing is my strength, but it’s something I feel passionate about and feel driven to do for whatever reason. I know the things that I want to put out in the world; I want to make sure the music I’m making has the best parts of myself, but then the best parts of everyone else who’s playing on it.
I think that folks who aren’t just straight white men in this industry, we realize from the get-go that we have to have others with us. We have to do it together. Otherwise we’re not going to go the distance. I feel that in both of your music, as well. But Brenna, I wonder what that question brings up for you, as you’re thinking about and positioning your album to release as well?
Brenna MacMillan: It’s funny, because when Bronwyn asked about songs that I had, I had like a bunch and at that time I wasn’t even thinking about [making] an album at all. I think it was maybe like a couple months later that I decided, based on my friends that kept being like, “You should record some of these songs!” And I was like, “I guess…” I wasn’t thinking about it at all whatsoever.
Then that’s another way like to get my songwriting out there, too. And why wait for someone to come to me for songs if they don’t even know that there are songs? Besides my friends, which is who I first would want to do my songs anyway. It’s funny, because obviously it’s really cool putting out your own music, but I still get more excited when “Riddle” comes on than when “What’s to Come” comes on. [Laughs] That is so cool!
Someone else’s vision for your song, it’s like the coolest thing ever to me. Because, I know what my brain comes up with so it’s not shocking, but someone else’s ideas around something that you wrote – it’s like the coolest thing ever, and I guess that’s why I love the community. I feel like community is like the word that I say way too much, but I do I love it. For Bronwyn, Cristina [Vane], Hilary [Klug], Emily, and Mallory, to some extent back in 2018, we all were moving to town around that time and then 2020 hit and I think that’s when we all got a little closer, because we were all bored and wandering around. I took a lot of walks with my friends, individually, we tried to stay across the path from each other, but I think those bonding moments brought us closer. We were like, “Let’s get coffee” or “let’s get dinner,” and then we ended up making a video or something and it all evolved into great friendship, plus people online being like, “Oh, we like to hear you guys play together!”
One of the things I love most about that whole community of content creators – you’re talking about Cristina Vane and a lot of these other folks you create with here in Nashville – it never feels like you’re trying to shoehorn bluegrass into contemporary content creation. It really seems that making bluegrass music and making roots music with your friends is the impetus, and then you made it fit into social media – instead of vice versa. Like, it’s happened organically and from a community standpoint first, and not just from “I have a social strategy. I have a five year plan.” Do you agree or disagree?
BM: Oh yeah, I agree. There’s not much strategy that’s happened in here. There’s not a lot of that going on. [Laughs]
And yet, I can tell you objectively from the outside looking in, y’all are still operating with 110% more strategy in mind than most of bluegrass. [Laughs]
BKH: I feel like Brenna and I have both talked about – correct me if I’m not saying this right, Brenna – wanting social media to serve us, rather than for us to serve social media. The end goal, for at least for both of us, is not like to become a social media star, it’s to have it serve us, to get our names and our music out to more people.
BM: Yeah! And it felt like it was very random that social media took off for me. I was just like, “Where are you guys coming from? Why do you want to hear me kick off a J.D. Crowe song like every day?” But at the same time, it has its own frustrations and that’s when me – and I think a bunch of the other girls that do this side by side with their music careers – we’re like, “We’re going to have this, but only if it makes sense for helping promote our live gigs and any projects we’re doing.” But as soon as I get nasty comments, or this, or that I’m like, “Oh, I will literally just get off of this app if it’s going to go this direction.” I just block people and then keep going.
I want an audience who will appreciate the things that I want them to appreciate. I think that I’ve trained my audience, too. Basically I shoved it in there, “You are going to listen to this slow song and try to enjoy that. And if you don’t, then I’m going to take you [out of my following]…” Because there have been some people who think that I am a content creator on there, and I’m like, “No, I play music and I took an hour out of my day and posted this video and we’re lucky that happened. Now I’m on my way to a gig and I don’t need some [negative] comment.” But you could come to a live gig and request a song!
Brenna, one of the things I love about your upcoming album and the messaging around it is that you’re really doing a direct-to-consumer business model and roll out. You’re being like, “Y’all can come to me. You already know how to find me, so this is where you can find the music, too.” I think it’s amazing and again, it’s the cutting edge of what the future of bluegrass will be while it’s also so fucking trad. It’s like back in the day, when bluegrass music required taking the car battery out of the car to play a show in the high school auditorium and then putting the battery back in to drive to the next high school auditorium.
It’s like you’re doing that in the 21st century. You’re being a DIY bluegrass musician, but in 2024. Can you talk a little bit about the direct to consumer model you’re using with your album roll out?
BM: I was like, I need to build a website so that there’s everything in one place – I remember why I did it, too, because there are a bunch of fake accounts. I knew I needed something out there to be authentic and to have all of my official links. That was literally my number one goal with the website. So now, here’s the link to my website, you can find my YouTube channel, my Facebook, my Instagram, my TikTok from there. And you’re going to know you’re in the right place. I’ve basically just started to try to push everything to my website and go from there to everything else, even if it’s taking you back to Instagram. Because [the website is] where everything’s going to happen, so that you know that it’s me instead of some person scamming you. I guess with that in mind, I started trying to link everything, like in my stories, when I’m talking about anything coming up, I just say, “Go to my website!”
Bronwyn, I wanted to ask you again about community and about bringing your circle, your scene into your album. I love all of the features on your album and I also love that it doesn’t just feel like you’re reaching for a Collaborative Recording of the Year nomination.
[All laugh]
But I wanted to know how it felt to you, as you were thinking about who you wanted to have on the record and why you wanted to have them on the record?
BKH: I’m glad to hear you say that it feels like it’s in service of the music, because that was definitely my intent. It was the funnest part of [recording the album], for me. I did kind of make those decisions after the tracks were done and I’d done my vocals. I just didn’t know how it was going to turn out until I heard it. Then I would brainstorm with Brent [Truitt], and Jason [Carter], and whoever about who to get on it. Dudley Connell was somebody I was really excited about and I’d never met him. I didn’t know him. Someone just gave me his number, I called him up and left him a nervous voicemail. But yeah, he turned out to be the sweetest guy ever – and he’s a bluegrass hero, I love all those Johnson Mountain Boys records.
It’s crazy especially being a new singer, I haven’t heard my voice recorded much ever. Then to hear my voice with all these other voices that I know and I’ve heard a lot – to hear like that combination for the first time – it was like very surreal!
What was it like working with Dierks [Bentley]? We all know his bluegrass pedigree and his connections to the Station Inn and to the McCourys and that he’s always had one foot so solidly in bluegrass, but y’all would have gotten to know him and got to spend some time with him on the road with Molly Tuttle & Golden Highway, too. I wondered how how that conversation happened and also what it felt like to you to have someone who has gold records and platinum records collaborating with you on your record?
BKH: I grew with his Up On The Ridge album, it was literally one of the first bluegrass albums I heard around my college years. I was obsessed with it and I thought it was so cool. It got me into listening to the more trad stuff, but I’d always loved his music and then being Jason [Carter’s] partner, and Jason and he were friends even before he was famous. So they’ve been friends from the get go.
I’d met him a few times through Jason and then again when we were on tour [opening for him], that was cool. ‘Cause I felt like we could meet [more as peers], not just because I’m somebody’s partner. But now, this is my gig and this is your gig. And you’re asking us to sit in every night. I felt a little bit more comfortable to make that ask. He just came into Brent’s studio one day and tracked it in under an hour. He’s great! Very quick.
Brenna, talk to me a little bit and if you have features on your upcoming album – and if you can’t talk about them yet, that’s totally fine.
BM: I know, I was trying to think of what I should say – I don’t know, I’m the one in charge! But let me check, I don’t know if Brenna wants to tell all that yet. [Laughs]
At the very least, we can talk about Ronnie [McCoury] and “What’s to Come.” Ronnie’s one of my favorites. Talk a bit about, again, bringing in community and bringing in the scene that already surrounds you.
BM: The core band in the studio was [Mike] Bub on bass and Jake Stargel on guitar. Me, I played banjo on four or five of the tracks, but I have been writing a lot on clawhammer lately and I know that I’m not good at it, so I had Frank Evans come in for those and then I had Cory [Walker] play on a couple very last minute. I was thinking, it’s just going to be better if he does it.
When the special guests ideas popped in my brain, I was thinking, “Do I want special guests to be like my friends, my age, or like people that I really are like heroes of mine? Is this the time to ask them? I don’t know.” Nobody knows who I am, but that’s okay. I had met Ronnie a handful of times in kind of settings where it was like, “I’m here with so and so” and I’m just a little curmudgeon. [Laughs]
“What’s to Come,” it’s like a reflective life song. I know that I sound like a small baby when I sing, and I was thinking of someone with an older sounding voice. Like wanting ancient, lonesome vibes so that there could be old and young together, pondering about life. If you’re young or if you’re old, you still ask all the same questions about life.
Also, [Ronnie’s] gritty mandolin playing. I love it so much. Jarrod Walker played on most of the core mandolin stuff, but he happened to be out of the country that session. I was like, this is perfect! But it’s funny, because I didn’t even know if Ronnie was going to bring his mandolin! [Laughs]
To wrap up, here’s a question I had for both of you, because you’re both musical shape shifters. You move in and out of musical contexts so easily; you’re both side people, you’re both front people, you’re both social media brands. How do you maintain your senses of self?
BKH: I feel like I can’t get away from myself! I don’t feel like I ever even think about that. The only way I’ve struggled with that a little bit, or thought about that more, is doing the solo projects. That’s where I’m like, “Wow. OK. What would Bronwyn do next?” But I think I know what I like and I know what I want to do. I’m just like, “How am I going to do that? I need to figure that out.
BM: I think similarly, I don’t really think about it that much. I think I know what I like, too. And I know what I don’t like. From the get go, I’ve very much just been myself online. I come home from the lab job and do a video with dark circles [under my eyes] and grunge and smelling like hemp trash. That’s what I established from the beginning. So now, I feel comfortable being myself.
Pretty much everything has been my own ideas and, it’s funny, because ten of my eleven songs are originals on the album, three of which are co writes, but hearing it come to life in the studio with other people, it still ended up being what I thought it should be. Which is weird, because there’s no way that I could bring some of these musicians into the studio who are eons beyond what I could imagine, but they knew exactly what the track needed. It does sound like me still and what my vision would have been if I had expressed it [all myself].
BKH: I feel like I’m like more myself these days than I’ve ever been. I feel like for a while, starting out in bluegrass, I had a lot of ideas of what a woman in bluegrass needed to look like, or be, or act like. In the last couple years, maybe inspired by being with Molly in Golden Highway, I feel like I’ve been able to let a lot of that stuff go – about how I should dress and whatever. Now, I embrace the things I actually like.
Photo Credit: Brenna MacMillan by Sophie Clark; Bronwyn Keith-Hynes by Alexa King Stone.
Welcome back to BGS Bytes, our monthly column designed to spare you the scroll and key you into the most notable roots-related social media posts! From birthdays to tributes to the dawning of festie season, we’ve got something for everyone. Check out these buzzworthy and viral internet moments from Randy Travis, Molly Tuttle, Chris Eldridge, the Brothers Osborne, and more.
AI Gives Randy Travis’ Voice A Second Chance
@randy.travis Randy’s fans and their desire to hear his voice again inspired Randy to make “Where That Came From” a reality with the help of his team. We are blessed to share this moment with you. Your love inspires Randy to keep on going! Thank you for singing along, always. – Team RT #CountryMusic#NewMusic♬ Where That Came From – Randy Travis
In 2013, Randy Travis suffered a major stroke following his hospitalization for cardiovascular issues, resulting in aphasia that severely diminished his capacity to speak and sing. Devastated, the world thought Travis might never sing again — until just a couple of weeks ago.
Working alongside Cris Lacy, a co-producer from Warner Music Nashville who previously produced Travis’ music, and Travis’ longtime producer Kyle Lehning, a small team of songwriters, musicians, and computer programers put together a new song for Travis, “Where That Came From.”
The track uses scratch vocals laid down by singer James Dupre, which were then filtered through an AI system informed by dozens of sound bytes from Travis’ catalog. Through trial and error, Lehning and engineers worked to ensure that the song seamlessly evoked Travis’ essence. Travis and his wife, Mary, are absolutely elated by the results, calling the experience “magical,” “beautiful,” and “overwhelming.”
Stevie Wonder Celebrates His 74th Birthday by Becoming a Citizen of Ghana
On May 13th, the legendary Stevie Wonder celebrated his 74th birthday while attending a ceremony that granted him Ghanaian citizenship. The first African country to become independent in 1954, Ghana has historically been an epicenter for many African Americans disenchanted with rampant anti-Blackness in the states. In 1975, Wonder began to dream about moving to Ghana to reconnect with his ancestral roots. Though he reconsidered, remaining in the U.S. to record his lauded Songs in the Key of Life, his 50-year dream came full circle this month.
He spoke on the monumental nature of this moment in his speech at the ceremony, stating, “Now, as a Ghanaian citizen, I am committed to fulfilling the dream we’ve cherished for so long — uniting people of African descent and the diaspora.”
Chris Eldridge Pays Homage To His Father, Ben Eldridge
Throughout its history, bluegrass has been well known as an intergenerational genre, passed down through familial, social, and geographical lineages. One glowing example is Chris “Critter” Eldridge (widely known for his role as a vocalist and guitarist with Punch Brothers) and his father, Ben Eldridge, who sadly passed away on April 14th of this year.
In a beautifully written tribute, Chris speaks about Ben’s incandescent banjo playing, the cultural significance of his band the Seldom Scene within the bluegrass and folk landscapes, Ben’s uncanny knack for mathematics, and his beautiful heart. A legend of his time, Ben will be missed greatly and forever revered.
Memorial Day weekend was a legendary one at the 16th annual DelFest, a four-day bluegrass festival taking place alongside the verdant mountains and flowing Potomac river of Cumberland, Maryland.
Listeners were in for a treat when the ethereal Sierra Ferrell came out to join Lukas Nelson’s set with the Travelin’ McCourys for a few songs. Among them was a cover of Adele’s hit, “Someone Like You,” infused with all the melancholy that a little country twang can offer. During a backstage pre-festival rehearsal, Lucas posted a Reel to warn Adele, “You’re going country whether you like it or not!”
In this sweet and heartwrenching post, Molly Tuttle, queen of flatpicking, tells the sweet story of her first Martin guitar. Penny by penny, she saved up enough at the ripe age of 12 to purchase her very own Martin. It is now on display at the Musical Instrument Museum in Phoenix, Arizona, alongside instruments from musical giants like John Hartford, Elizabeth Cotten, Earl Scruggs, Mississippi John Hurt, and more.
AJ Lee & Blue Summit Release New Single, “He Called Me Baby”
A song that has lived many lives, AJ Lee & Blue Summit put their own spin on the classic, “He Called Me Baby.” Written by Harlan Howard, the song was most commonly sung as “She Called Me Baby” until Patsy Cline covered it in 1963. Throughout its history, it’s shifted through many genres and forms, perhaps most notably becoming a Top Ten R&B hit in 1971 with Candi Stanton’s recording.
The Brothers Osborne Guest Judge on RuPaul’s Drag Race
And, being that we’re a few days into June, we simply must include a quick Pride Month teaser! This past week, brothers TJ and John Osborne, most commonly known for their country duo The Brothers Osborne, were featured as guest panelists in Season 9 of RuPaul’s Drag Race All Stars. This iconic crossover is the perfect kickoff to a month sure to be filled with reminders of the inextricable weavings of queer culture and roots music.
Photo Credit: Randy Travis by Marisa Taylor; RuPaul’s Drag Race All Stars productionstill courtesy of QPrime.
Born out of humble beginnings in 1983, Mountain Stage has blossomed to become not just one of Appalachia’s most sought after musical platforms, but one of all of Americana and roots music’s most cherished stages. Broadcasting bi-monthly to nearly 300 NPR stations nationwide, the program has welcomed everyone from John Prine to Wilco, Wynonna Judd, and even Widespread Panic during its historic 40-year run. To celebrate the achievement, Mountain Stage and Oh Boy Records have partnered to release the 21-song Live On Mountain Stage: Outlaws and Outliers (released April 19).
According to Larry Groce — Mountain Stage host from 1983 to 2021 and one of the compilation’s curators — distilling 40 years of music into one album was quite the task. Deliberations began with a list of over 150 songs before landing on the 21 that made the album.
“At first we just looked at the artist named and began to narrow it down from there,” Groce describes the process to BGS. “After several narrowings we began listening to some of them, getting the list down to about 30 before cutting it further down to the 21 that made the album.”
Sticking close to the country, folk, and bluegrass sounds of the show’s West Virginia home, the album includes performances from Appalachia’s own – like current Mountain Stage host Kathy Mattea, Tyler Childers, Sierra Ferrell, and Tim O’Brien alongside A-listers like Prine, Eric Church, Alison Krauss, and Jason Isbell. Helping to attract and keep such a diverse array of talent returning has been the program’s artist-first approach, which caters to the performers and platforms great songs over all else.
“We’re not trying to be trendsetters and we aren’t trying to be hip,” asserts Groce, who broke onto the scene as a singer-songwriter with his song “Junk Food Junkie” in 1976. “We try to look at things in the long run by booking talent we think will last. Our goal has always been to put the artist at the center of the show rather than myself, the program, or anyone else. There’s people that would argue that we should always be pushing the brand, but that’s not the way we — or anyone else — operates in West Virginia.”
One of the many artists appreciative of that approach is Molly Tuttle, who last appeared on Mountain Stage in 2023 to support her album City Of Gold, which has since earned her a second Grammy win for Best Bluegrass Album. Born in California, Tuttle didn’t become aware of the show until moving to Nashville in 2015. She’s gone on to play the show three times, the first being a visit in 2018 that provided the performance of “You Didn’t Call My Name” that made the compilation.
Of the show, Tuttle says what she’s cherished most about her time on it is the chance to collaborate and catch up with her colleagues.
“It’s one of the few places where you get to meet, converse and collaborate with other musicians, which typically only happens for us on the road at music festivals,” explains Tuttle. “That really speaks to the trust Larry Groce and the entire Mountain Stage team have in giving the artists freedom to do what they want. What results is a well curated show that’s become one of the most important showcases around for this kind of music.”
In agreement with Tuttle is Tim O’Brien, a native West Virginian who made his Mountain Stage debut in the late ’80s with Hot Rize, an occasion he credits to his mother that has sparked too many follow-up visits to count.
“She called my sister and I — who were living in Colorado at the time — to tell us about it after hearing about it on the local radio back home,” recalls O’Brien, whose song “Cup Of Sugar” from a 2021 appearance is featured on the record. “She immediately thought we’d be a good fit for it, so she wrote them a postcard one day asking when they were going to get Hot Rize on. It was a good fit the first time, and always has been.”
“I remember writing her back saying ‘Your son’s band is much more famous than we are,” Groce jokes as he looks back on the moment. “The question is, does he want to go on the show, not whether we’ll have him or not. And sure enough, we booked Hot Rize shortly thereafter.”
The Indigo Girls perform on Mountain Stage. Photo by Brian Blauser.
It’s that attitude of never feeling above anyone or anything that has helped Mountain Stage to excel and have the lasting legacy that it does. It captures its home region of West Virginia and Appalachia better than most any other music-related program does, both in sound and in sentiment. It’s the latter that’s arguably been the biggest asset in attracting bigger names as the show taps into the majestic mountains around them.
“There’s many different kinds of people that live in Appalachia, but one thing that’s really bedrock is supporting one another, and that shows with Mountain Stage and how they put the program on,” reflects O’Brien. “It’s intimate and friendly, just like the state.”
Photo Credit: Tim O’Brien Band performing on Mountain Stage by Chris Morris; Molly Tuttle performs on Mountain Stage by Josh Saul.
One of the most talented and sought after banjo players in bluegrass, Kyle Tuttle’s life has been full of the highest of highs and lowest of lows in recent years, from a marriage and divorce to the surprise death of close friend and bandmate Jeff Austin to the loss of his job due to COVID and finally hitting the road as a member of Molly Tuttle & Golden Highway.
All of that and more are documented on Labor of Lust (out February 16), an 11-song expedition taking listeners on a deeply personal and sonically diverse journey of tragedy and triumph. Recorded across three separate sessions in Nashville dating back to 2018, the record also documents a significant chunk of Tuttle’s life that, despite the length of time and changes that come with it, aren’t lacking a central theme. This led him to describing the project as “a long work-in-progress,” due to how its focus shifted throughout the more than five years of bringing it to life.
“By the time it was all said and done, this was a pretty eclectic group of songs,” Tuttle tells BGS. “There’s some stuff with an electric band that includes drums and me on electric banjo, others with traditional string band arrangements and some that meet in the middle for a more jamgrass sound.”
One of the songs that bridge the gap between these two worlds of bluegrass is “Hard to Say,” a song that sees Tuttle grieving the loss of Austin, his marriage, and his job all at the same time. It’s anchored by his blistering banjo backbone with introspective lyrics like, “Knowing that it’s gone and gone for good, makes you wonder what the hell you’re waiting on?” that serve as a message to himself and anybody listening to ask the questions you need to ask, then play another one.
“Even though the music and lyrics were written over a handful of years, loss and learning to deal with it on a personal level is central to this record,” indicates Tuttle. “That being said, there’s a lot of joy within these songs too. I don’t want to make it seem like I wrote music for five years and all I experienced was misery. Loss is something we all have to deal with at one time or another, and my way of dealing with it was to write some of this music.”
Speaking by phone from his snowed-in Nashville home following a mid-January winter storm, Tuttle opened up about how he approaches being a bandleader compared to his current gig with Golden Highway, being stuck in a Bob Ross painting, choosing to work doing something you love, and more.
You’re notorious for staying extremely busy in your musical endeavors, from sitting in with folks on stage and in the studio toyour stints with the Jeff Austin band, (your current gig with) Molly Tuttle, and your own compositions and projects, like Labor of Lust. With that in mind, how do you approach your own music versus being a member of someone else’s band?
Kyle Tuttle: It’s a bit different, because with my own show I’m the bandleader, along with other variables. With my shows, I play with lots of different members, I don’t have one set group of people that know my body of material super well, but rather lots of friends I can call on who all have different strengths. For that reason, when fronting my own band I’m more in the headspace of trying to wrangle all these people and variables together for a cohesive show, whereas with Molly we all have our roles that are specifically defined. One role isn’t more comfortable to me than the other, they just both require different things from me.
Is that comfort what had you leaning on friends like Travis Book, Dominick Leslie, and Lindsay Lou in the studio instead of session players?
It speaks very similarly to what we were just talking about with putting together a version of the Kyle Tuttle Band for shows. I wouldn’t use the term session player though, because even though all of these people are my friends they can also be called “session players” for their work on other’s records, because they’re all so good at what they do. I pick them very specifically based on their strengths and what they’ll bring to the music. I’ve been lucky through my years in the business to build personal connections with an awesome group of people that I can call when I’m looking to create something.
Although not an original, I really enjoy your cover of Harry Nilsson’s “Turn On The Radio” that closes the album. What drew you to that song of his in particular instead of “Coconut” or another of Nilsson’s gems?
I’m gonna have to work on a “Coconut” cover next, because that song is awesome! In all seriousness, [“Turn On The Radio”] felt like a thematically appropriate way to close this album. At the end of the day, I’m just a jamgrass stoner that plays banjo wanting to make a record that people can enjoy and have fun with. This record has some heavy undertones, so I felt like it deserved a nice ribbon on top to end it. It speaks to me big time, [about] remembering those near and dear who you’ve lost, especially if they’re an artist doing something you can hear. That sentiment of “turn on your record player, listen to my song, turn on your night light baby, I’m gone” felt like the right words to capture that feeling even though I didn’t say them, Harry did! I’ve loved the song for a while, so when I began putting this record together it immediately made sense to close it with this.
In terms of your own songs, I understand that “Trailer In Boulder Canyon” came together at two different times, similar to the recording process for all of Labor of Lust?
That’s a funny one, because as I said previously, I’m just a jamgrass stoner banjo player. First and foremost it’s a fun, feel good song about a magical place — a shitty little trailer on the side of a mountain up in Nederland, Colorado, where you don’t have to worry about any of your troubles or cares and just get to play fiddles and banjos and have fun all day. There’s a great jamgrass scene up there due to Vince Herman and Drew Emmitt basically starting Leftover Salmon up there. Years later some of The String Cheese Incident guys moved there followed by Jeff Austin, leading to the eventual forming of Yonder Mountain String Band there as well. There’s such a rich history of the music I love so much in that goofy little mountain town.
I initially wrote the chorus and first verse for the song as a goofy little ditty after it bounced around in my head for a while. I went up there when Vince put together a memorial concert for Jeff to help raise money for his family and so people could grieve together and ended up writing the second half of the song driving up the canyon road to get there. So like a lot of things on this record, part of it came to me at one point before finishing it off much later.
You’ve got three instrumentals on this record and another mostly instrumental tune in “Two Big Hearts.” What variations do songs like those have compared to ones with lyrics in the creation process?
The process is relatively the same, because no matter if I write with lyrics or melody I’m starting with some short idea and building around that nugget of information piece by piece. If it’s a melody, it’ll probably come out as an instrumental, but if it’s with lyrics it’s probably going to come out as a song with vocals. Even though it’s one track, “Two Big Hearts” is really two songs. The lyrics in it don’t come in until the second song, nearly four minutes in, but I felt that both were similar enough that they should be together and presented as one idea. I don’t think I’ll ever play one part of it without playing the other.
On “Not Quite Spring,” you’re singing about being stuck inside a Bob Ross painting. How’d that idea come about?
That’s a COVID song. I was sitting around on the couch watching a lot of Bob Ross’s The Joy Of Painting, just killing time like we all were back then. All of his paintings were titled and each episode of his show is titled after the painting he does in it. [“Not Quite Spring” is season 25, episode 3]. It’s of this spooky, huge mountain that’s covered in snow and frozen. A lot of his paintings are happy sunsets and warm things like a pond reflecting the trees around it, a stark contrast to this one that’s cold, dark and lonely, which is exactly how I felt at the time trapped inside my house.
In the album’s liner notes you allude to a life in music often being painted in glamor, when in reality it’s a consistent grind where persistence pays off. Is that message of sticking to it what you’re singing about on “Saddle Up?”
“Saddle Up” is the term I have for getting up every day and doing it again. It’s the idea that you may not have succeeded today or done everything you wanted to do the way you wanted to do it, which is what I’m touching on with the lyric, “The past can’t be where my best is.”
I feel like persistence defines my own life and career. Anyone who works in pursuit of a skill or art is always striving to get better. Even outside of that, we’re all working on our personal relationships and doing better by the people around us. Hopefully our best work, whether it be art or personal growth, is ahead of us and it’s not all downhill from here. It’s also a message I wish to impart on any listener or friend going through a rough patch to remind them that brighter days are on the horizon.
With Labor of Lust’s themes of personal growth in mind, what’s one resolution you have for yourself, music or otherwise, in 2024?
I’m actually trying to play the banjo even more, not from the standpoint of traveling and playing more shows, but just tinkering with it more in my downtime. It’s an interesting duality, tying your work to something you love. It’s a tricky thing to do because the lines between work and play are instantly blurred and made one. If it’s all work and no play it makes Jack a dull boy, so my resolution is to just keep the banjo in my hands for fun and to work smarter, not harder, which comes back to the idea that the past is not where my best work is.
Photo courtesy of the artist.
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