WATCH: The Watson Twins, “The Palace”

Artist: The Watson Twins
Hometown: Louisville, Kentucky; now Nashville
Song: “The Palace”
Album: Holler
Release Date: June 23, 2023
Label: Bloodshot Records

In Their Words: “This song is one of the few co-writes on the album and it came together after we ran into our friend Jacob Sooter (writer/producer) in East Nashville. He suggested we write together and invited Brian Elmquist (The Lone Bellow) to join the session. We spent the afternoon laughing and writing … which set the tone for the song. Leigh had gone to the Nashville Palace the night before we all got together and the iconic honky-tonk was the perfect inspiration to build the scene for the queen of broken hearts. Working in the studio with Butch Walker and our touring band really brought the song to life. You can feel the energy of everyone playing LIVE in the room.

“From concept to creation, ‘The Palace’ video came together in such an organic way. Doors kept opening and we kept saying ‘YES!’ We had been tossing around a video idea that featured Dolly impersonators but knew that would be really hard to pull off in an authentic way. As luck would have it, our friend and fellow Kentuckian, Meghan Love, hosts a Dolly look-alike contest every year at her restaurant Mable’s Smokehouse in Brooklyn. She offered to let us film at the 6th annual contest and the Nashville production crew, Farmuse, jumped on board to bring our ‘Dolly Dream’ to life. We had no idea the joy and celebration we were going to experience that night at Mable’s and ‘The Palace’ was the perfect soundtrack. It was the first time we sang ‘The Palace’ live in front of an audience and it couldn’t have been more fun!” — Leigh & Chandra Watson, The Watson Twins


Photo Credit: Elizabeth O. Baker Photography

BGS 5+5: Lauren Morrow

Artist: Lauren Morrow
Hometown: Hometown is Atlanta, Claimed town is Nashville
Latest Album: People Talk
Personal Nicknames: “LoMo”

What was the first moment that you knew you wanted to be a musician?

When I was 15, I won a contest to sing with a band called Marvelous 3 (now defunct, but formally fronted by Butch Walker) at a massive Atlanta festival called Music Midtown. I think there were something like 90,000 people there, and I was blackout nervous and a total mess the whole day, but as soon as I stepped on the stage, it was like I was possessed. I’d been interested in playing music for a little while before this, but from that night on, it was all I ever thought about — how to recreate that feeling, how to create my own songs that would move people the way music moved me. I guess I’ve been chasing that feeling ever since. Butch and I have been friends since then and I’m eternally grateful for this mentorship on this journey.

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

I was an English major in college with a minor in British & American cultures, so literature (specifically British literature) is a big influence on my music and my writing. It’s not so much that I write specifically about books or stories I’ve read, but I’ve always loved to write, and I’ve always loved words. I spend a lot of time on my lyrics — I want them to make sense and have a point, not to be an afterthought — and I know that comes directly from my love of the written word. I want my lyrics and the melody they’re encapsulated within to feel fluid like the two things are fused together, and I want them to be relatable like you’re reading a book about my life and experiences that you can find yourself within.

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

I think navigating these last few years with a completed album during a pandemic has taught me the power of surrendering and expecting less. I don’t mean for that to sound depressing — it’s actually quite freeing when you think about it. There’s only so much you can do for yourself as an artist, and I advocate for myself and this record every single day. I do what I need to do, and I work really hard, but at the end of the day, there’s not a whole lot I can control. When you fixate on those things (“Why didn’t that journalist write about me?” “Why wasn’t I asked to play that festival?” “Why wasn’t my song included on that playlist?”), it can really drive you insane and make you miss all of the great things that are happening for you everyday. So much of this industry is controlled by things that are outside of your control, so I just try and put my faith in myself, my product, my team, my tenacity, and the Universe (or God or Source or whatever you choose to call it.) Everything else will fall in line the way it is meant to.

Which artist has influenced you the most … and how?

My favorite band of all time is U2 — a fact that shocks most people when they hear it, but I’ve been obsessed with them since I was a child. Over the years, I’ve gotten a lot of shit for being such a big fan of theirs (thank you Apple album upload!), but I don’t care — their songs, melodies, ideas, shows, all move me in ways that are hard to describe in words. It feels bigger and deeper than me. Sure, all of it reminds me of my childhood, but their songs are huge, anthemic, and meaningful, with something new to discover in every listen. I tried to recreate some of that vibe with People Talk.

What has been the best advice you’ve received in your career so far?

My old band, The Whiskey Gentry, toured heavily with the band Cracker, and my husband Jason and I became very close with their lead singer, David Lowery, and his wife, Velena Vego. Both are veterans of the music industry, and they offered us some great advice through a really tumultuous and confusing time in our careers. Personally, I was in a place in my life where I thought I’d paid enough dues and I felt like success was something that I’d already earned (little did I know about the years of invaluable growth that were still to come), but David and Velena were both very adamant that Jason and I have other jobs and side-hustles to help us make money while we were pursuing our dreams. This, coming from people as successful in music as David was/is in Cracker and Velena who has booked the legendary 40 Watt Club in Athens for almost four decades. Jason has always had a successful residential/commercial painting business, and I always worked jobs or helped him, and that’s how we’ve been able to keep our mortgage paid, stay on the road, and self-fund the release of People Talk on our own label, Big Kitty Records. I believe there will come a time when we won’t have to hustle so hard in other areas of our lives, but we aren’t there yet. And even if we don’t ever get there, we know the value of hard work and where that’s taken us in our lives thus far.


Photo Credit: Jace Kartye

BGS 5+5: Ellie Turner

Artist: Ellie Turner
Hometown: Nashville, Tennessee
Latest Album: When the Trouble’s All Done
Personal Nicknames: El

Which artist has influenced you the most … and how?

I don’t think any other artist has influenced so many different aspects of my musical career as Bob Dylan. From lyrical content and song structure, to sonic preferences and even performance mindsets, I can trace and feel the imprint of his influence in almost everything I do. In the weeks just prior to starting to write for this album, I listened to Dylan’s entire catalog from start to finish per the recommendation of my friend Jack Schneider who produced the album. I think the thing that captivates me most about Dylan’s artistry is his ability and willingness to change. There’s a freedom in the way he approaches art and music that I certainly seek to emulate. I think Bob is really good at listening, and more than anything, that is the skill I seek to hone along my creative journey.

What other art forms — literature, film, dance, painting, etc. — inform your music?

Over the last couple of years, I have really enjoyed exploring the art of block-printing. It’s such an honest medium. Nothing is hidden. The very nature of it requires the artist to pull out and focus on the most essential pieces of an image — the pieces that make the image that image. For that reason, every block, every layer, every color serves a very specific purpose in bringing that image to life. If you think about it, it’s not too dissimilar to writing a folk song — every line is essential, the words are simple and clear, the message is honest and true.

When writing a song, I always like to challenge myself to say the thing in the simplest way possible, cutting away all the fluff and finery I might be tempted to hide behind. I approach block-printing in the same way. And further, when it comes to actually printing an edition of a print or tracking a song live, these two mediums are even more kindred in spirit and nature. Every edition is different just like every take of a song is different. They cannot be replicated. They stand alone as something totally unique. Like little moments in time and space. That’s exactly what we wanted to tap into in recording this record and it’s why we tracked every song live.

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

As an artist, I always want to be honest. I want to keep my eyes open and listen. I want to make the thing that’s asking to be made, even if it requires me to find new tools or step into a different medium. I want to be willing and brave.

What was the first moment that you knew you wanted to be a musician?

When I was maybe 18 years old, my family and I came to Nashville to visit some family for Thanksgiving. I remember stopping into an old antique shop that had a bunch of guitars on the wall. I couldn’t help but grab one to play. My dad grabbed one, too. We casually started playing “Landslide” together just to have some fun, but after a few moments, I looked up to find that everyone in the store had stopped what they were doing to listen. I was shocked and overwhelmed in the best possible way. That was the first time I really understood the power music had to move people. From that point on, I knew all I wanted to do was sing songs for people. I had discovered a new medium, a new tool, and I was desperate to use it.

What’s your favorite memory from being on stage?

Oh man, so many great memories… I think one show that really stands out though is the first show I played after the pandemic. The show was on July 1, 2021, at The Basement in Nashville. I remember the room felt so alive. It was packed, and you could just feel people’s gladness for being together again, sharing a unified experience. This was also the first time that we got to play the songs from this record live since they had been written and recorded in isolation. The album was done and mastered at this point, and Jack (Schneider) and I were just so thrilled to finally share these songs with people. To let them live and breathe. We stepped off the mic to play the last song, just to be with the people in the room, and to this day, it is one of my favorite musical memories. It felt as though we were all of one spirit, sharing the same set of lungs, breathing in and out together. One of those moments that makes you realize how lucky you are to get to do the thing you’re doing. I’ll treasure it forever.


Photo Credit: Jim Herrington

LISTEN: Carolina Story, “Magic”

Artist: Carolina Story
Hometown: Nashville, Tennessee
Song: “Magic”
Album: Colors of My Mind
Release Date: April 7, 2023
Label: Soundly Music

In Their Words: “‘Magic’ is about embracing the unknown and the mystery of existence. Having immense gratitude for the fact that we’re even here on this rock out in the cosmos. It’s a song about contentment, being at home in your own body, and at peace with your journey so far. We have a choice to see things through a positive or negative lens every day. It’s choosing to view the world with the wonderment and awe of the inner child, knowing that the tragedies, failures, and dark parts of ourselves can be used to help others feel less alone while we’re here in this blink-of-an-eye daydream together.” — Ben and Emily Roberts, Carolina Story


Photo Credit: Jeremy Cowart

At His Lowest Point, Channing Wilson Turned Things Around With “Trying to Write a Song”

With brutally honest songs soaked in blues, booze and emotional bruising, Channing Wilson is extending the tradition of raw country music with his debut album, Dead Man. Trading in pickup trucks and cut-off jeans for battles with depression, anxiety and addiction, he’s emerging with a style that echoes tormented tunesmiths like Guy Clark and Billy Joe Shaver, among others. But while his Dave Cobb-produced debut marks the first real batch of original tunes, this Georgia native is no newcomer.

Wilson’s been a working songwriter for almost two decades now, even scoring a No. 1 country single with Luke Combs’ “She Got the Best of Me” in 2018. He’s also a writer on Combs’ current chart climber, “Growin’ Up and Gettin’ Old,” and both tunes share an element of hard-truth reflection that’s rare in the country mainstream. But Channing’s own tunes go much further.

With Dead Man alive and kicking, Channing spoke with The Bluegrass Situation about his craft – discovering his songwriting heroes, bringing the blues back to country, and how a “bullshit” song sent him down a new path.

BGS: Can you tell me how you got into this gritty style of country music? It’s not exactly easy to find if you’re not looking for it.

Wilson: Yeah, I grew up in Georgia, and if it wasn’t on the radio, I didn’t know about it, you know? There were no clubs to go see new music or anything, so it took a while for me. I was into my 20s really. But I did have a friend who was one of those music-snob guys, and he’d heard that I was trying to write songs. He made me a mixtape that had Billy Joe Shaver and Guy Clark and Steve Earle and Ray Wylie Hubbard, mixed in with, like, Tom Waits, and it was just full of the best songwriters there were. So, it was literally like, “Where’s this shit been my whole life?”

I bet. That’s funny. You had already been writing by then though, huh?

Yeah. Well, I was trying. My dad was a huge Hank Williams Jr. fan, and I grew up listening to Waylon and Willie – just the stuff that was big, you know? But then the same guy that made me the mixtape, what really kick-started it for me was two particular shows he took me. One was Billy Joe Shaver, in a room with about 40 people with Eddy Shaver on guitar. And then the next week Hank Williams III was in town, and he took me to that show. And right after that, I just quit my job.

You came to Nashville for good around 2009, right? What was it like getting yourself established in the songwriting community?

I mean, I got a publishing deal pretty quick, I ain’t gonna lie. It was within a month or two of being there, I signed a songwriting deal over at EMI Publishing. But honestly, I didn’t even know what a publishing deal was at the time. I had to look it up, and I seen they had Guy Clark on the roster, and I said, “Well, shit. If he’s over here writing songs, then it has to be pretty cool.” I literally based my business decision on the fact that Guy Clark was a songwriter there.

I’ve heard worse ideas … So how did you end up with this raw writing style? You are not afraid to dig into the rougher side of life at all. Does that come from personal struggle?

What changed me was listening to stuff by Guy Clark for the first time, or Townes Van Zandt, and knowing that it was OK to write a song like that. I think when I got turned onto their music, it showed me that there really are no rules to it. And once I had that license to do literally whatever I wanted, what you’re hearing now is what happened.

You’ve talked about things like depression and anxiety, and how in music, that used to be called “the blues.” Do you feel like we need a blues-music revival for this current era?

One hundred percent, man. I mean, when people think about blues music, you think of Mississippi John Hurt, you think of Lightnin’ Hopkins, Howlin’ Wolf. You think of the Mississippi Delta, but the truth of it is, all of what they sang about is still around.

Where did “Drink That Strong” come from? It really sets the stage for what you do.

It actually come from one of these crazy Music Row songwriting sessions I used to do. Mine were always different because I never really cared about writing for country radio, but when you’re in a publishing deal, you know, they want you out writing songs as much as you can. I was with a buddy of mine named Houston Phillips … and in my head, I just I heard the hook, “The weed gets me high / And the cocaine don’t last long / And they don’t make a drink that strong.” It was supposed to be a song about quitting drinking, but it just makes me wanna drink every time I hear it. [laughs]

That’s a really cool line. But yeah, that probably won’t make it on the radio anytime soon.

Yeah. I’m definitely not mad about that either.

What about “Gettin’ Outta My Mind”? It’s in a similar vein, and I love this idea that you’re “done walking the line.” Is that something that you’ve said to yourself before?

Pretty much every day! [laughs] I’ve always been the guy that just wants to have a little more fun, and when you get me and Kendell Marvel both in the same room together, stuff like that happens. We wanted to rock a song just for us. You know, for that honky-tonk kinda thing.

Tell me about “Dead Man Walking.” This one’s got a ton of gospel in it.

I grew up singing in the church, so I’ve definitely got that in me. But it really come from listening to Howlin’ Wolf. It started off as a blues song, but Dave took it and really opened it up.

Maybe people don’t realize how closely related gospel and the blues are?

That’s the thing. Just like the thin line between love and hate, there’s a thin line between church and the bars, you know?

The last song on the record is so telling. It’s called “Trying to Write a Song,” and I love the hook. “I’ve been trying to write a song / Something bold, something real / But there’s a shit pile of denial / In the way of how I feel.” How do you overcome the shit pile?

Writing that song, that saved my life that day, brother. I ain’t gonna lie. … This was 2015 or ‘16, and my phone wasn’t ringing, man. Nobody in Nashville really gave a shit. I knew I could go to any bar for the rest of my life and play music. That’s not a problem. But I wanted to make an impact on country music, something I really, really love, and that’s given me a life. But I was at my wits’ end in this town.

To be honest with you, I had this write coming up with a bigger country artist that had radio hits and stuff, and getting to write with somebody that’s on the radio could change a lot for you. Especially if a song actually makes it to the radio, you know? I was trying to come up with some ideas and [laughs] dude, everything I was saying was bullshit, you know? I had a couple ideas going, and I just tore up and threw the pages away.

So I’m sitting there by myself at my kitchen table, and I just said, like, “What’s the truth right now?” And the truth, I just wrote it down – “I’m trying to write a song.” I sat there and just had a breakthrough moment in my mind, and it was really the moment that changed directions for me and got me back on track, and reminded me why I was doing this to begin with. When it come time to round the album off, I played that song and Dave just stopped me a minute into it, and he just said, “This is it. Let’s record it.”

How did the write with the country singer go?

I canceled it. I couldn’t do it after that. I was just like, “I can’t do this shit.” I knew I’d find a different way.


Photo Credit: David McClister

WATCH: Rachel Baiman, “Bad Debt”

Artist: Rachel Baiman
Hometown: Oak Park, Illinois; now in Nashville
Song: “Bad Debt”
Album: Common Nation of Sorrow
Release Date: March 31, 2023
Label: Signature Sounds

In Their Words: “Debt has been my constant companion throughout my adult life. It feels like anytime I get a little bit ahead, it’s only for the purpose of paying down a loan. I struggle with shame surrounding financial debt, but this song is about the kind of debt that should be condemned, moral and ethical debt; taking, and taking, and taking, and never giving back. The narrator has lived their whole life off of the backs of others, and they know it.” — Rachel Baiman


Photo Credit: Natia Cinco

Inspired by Gospel, The War and Treaty Make Their Move on ‘Lover’s Game’

The War and Treaty’s new album, Lover’s Game, is a fitting tribute to the force that brought Michael and Tanya Trotter together. The Iraqi war veteran and the former singing prodigy who signed her first record deal at 16 have been capturing hearts with their riotously soulful sound since they began performing together in 2014. At home in Nashville, mid-tour, they discuss with BGS how their partnership has shaped their songwriting.

You’ve been together 13 years and your latest songs suggest you’re as fiercely in love as ever. What’s the secret?

Michael: This is what Lover’s Game is all about… it’s us realizing that there’s more to relationships, there’s many different kinds of love. And when you’ve found something serious, hold on to it.

You’ve admitted to being inseparable since you met at a festival and there’s a nod to it in the track “Blank Page” – “When I first saw you, I said to myself that’s a good look…” What was it you saw in each other that day? 

Michael: I saw honesty. A lot of love in Tanya’s eyes. A desperate kind of hope: “Somebody in this world has to make me an honest woman when I say love is still here.” And I wanted to protect that. And hold her. Aside from the fact I saw her walk away one day and the bounce of her backside really encouraged me…

Tanya: [laughing] He took what I was going to say. When I first saw him I literally saw love in his eyes. And he talked so vulnerably – you don’t meet people who say right away “I have nothing.” Most people want to put on a front. And I had a son, and when I saw him with his – now our – daughter, it made me want to be a better mother.

As a married couple who tour you’re together all the time. And your performances are famously emotional affairs. Do you have to take time apart from each other?

Michael: [nodding vigorously] I’m learning that Tanya needs that a lot. She’s created a space in our house called The Pink Room where she goes alone to recharge. She says I’m tired, get out of here, go away man! I am completely different. I need to be stimulated till I pass out. It’s irritating!

Tanya: It’s not irritating, he just needs to watch a movie. He’ll put his bags down, sit in his recliner and the TV is on for three or four hours, that’s his way of coming down.

Michael: She’s being kind. Let me tell you how bad it is. Today, she wanted to get her nails done, but I didn’t want to be apart. So I just made some shit up: “I have some places to go…”

Tanya: [surprised] Oh, you didn’t have anywhere to go?

Michael: I went to goddamn Wendy’s.

Tanya: [laughing] Oh my God! He said he had this big plan…

Michael: I was going to tell you eventually, this is embarrassing. I circled the parking lot, went to Wendys, had a little food, went back to the car and watched movies.

It’s like your song “That’s How Love Is Made” says… “Can’t hate all your wrongs and only want all your rights…”

Michael: “Can’t say I’m tired when I don’t ask for help…” In my moments of neediness I will say I actually need you to touch me today. Hold my hand, rub my hair, put water on my head, because I can’t stop these thoughts racing. That’s post-traumatic stress disorder I have from the war. And she knows immediately how to get in gear. That is our balance, accepting each other’s…

Tanya: …quirks.

Do you think that’s part of your bond, that ability to understand what he’s going through? In your song “Five More Minutes” the pair of you wrote about the moment that Michael’s PTSD overwhelmed him to the point where he was ready to take his life. But Tanya you had your own experience of depression before you met him…

Tanya: Yes, when I was living in Dallas in my mid-20s, I took pills and ended up on 72-hour suicide watch. When I came out of hospital, I stayed with my mum for a year, and no discredit to my family but when you’re going through a dark time most people don’t know what to do. They’re clueless, even the ones who love you with everything in their heart. When I learned what Michael was going through I thought “What would I have wanted someone to do for me?” I would have wanted someone to literally stop everything they were doing and just help me get back to me. “You be better” doesn’t fix a person who is on the brink of giving up. You’ve got to spend time to get them off the ledge. Michael’s scars were invisible to the average person who doesn’t know the signs. He was giving love to everybody and no one was pouring it back into him.

And it was your experiences of war, Michael, that first led you to songwriting, paying tribute to the comrades you lost in Iraq. Is it hard to revisit what you went through then, having to go into detail for the sake of the writers working on the movie?

Michael: I can talk about it now – I can’t shut up about it. I understand the responsibility to tell how you made it out. Unlike some of my friends, I got home.

It feels like things have really taken off for the band this past year – you won the Americana Music Association’s award for duo/group of the year last September, and your set at the CMA Awards was the most talked about performance of the night. But back in 2020, when you played at the Grammys you must have thought that the breakthrough was coming a lot sooner…

Michael: Yes, from 2018 The War and Treaty had a real trajectory, and our management was saying 2020 was going to be our year. We were getting different invitations to perform, we were getting calls from John Legend saying “Let’s go on on tour…” and then COVID happened. It was a very emotional time, because Tanya was part of the first wave that caught COVID and I thought she was going to die. It was pretty bad. She would cough and it sounded like 10 lawnmowers being started up. So this moment now, we’ll never ever take it for granted, every day is by grace.

Did that experience change your approach to music?

Tanya: Yes – it taught me you’re always learning. I started taking vocal classes. I found a personal trainer online. I was more open to writing with other people.

Michael: The subjects we wrote about broadened, we realized it’s not just about what we’re going through. And our writing deepened because we lost people – we lost John Prine, we lost my aunts and my uncles, so many people where it crippled you for a minute. You’d go to write and all you’d get is tears. And it wasn’t just the pandemic, it was what happened after the George Floyd killings too. You have to respond to that. The problem is in how we see ourselves, we don’t see ourselves as one, we see ourselves as opposites. But we’re one race, we’re the human race.

Is songwriting therapeutic for you?

Michael: Always. I have to write because I don’t always get a chance to verbalize properly what I’m feeling.

You used to say you wrote 10 songs a day and most of them ended up in the trash can.

Michael: I’ve been chastised about the trash can. One man’s trash is another man’s potpourri. I keep everything now.

Tanya, you’ve been in the business three decades now – what have been the most valuable lessons?

Tanya: There’s a thin line between your creativity and the business. You have to separate the two. When we started we tried to do everything ourselves but approaching music from a business standpoint takes the specialness away from what you do when you get on stage. Let the manager do that kind of thinking, let them do what they’re paid to do. Although you still have to know what’s happening – learn to read a contract.

Your mother was a professional opera and Broadway singer…

Tanya: And my brother’s a gospel singer. My dad can’t sing but he still tells everyone we got it from him!

Did your mum teach you and your brother to sing?

Tanya: No but she exposed us to different styles. She put us in ballet and tap classes, too.

Michael, was your family into music?

Michael: I came from a weird, split home – my mother only listened to contemporary Christian music, she didn’t want to hear secular music. Dad was a rebel, he was listening to death metal! And when he was driving he would only listen to classical – Mozart, Paganini… Then my grandmother, she was from the country, so Granny’s favourite artists were Willie Nelson and The Outlaws and Loretta Lynn.

What were you drawn to?

Michael: Much like Tanya I was in love with Rodgers & Hammerstein musicals, and gospel, everything from Thomas Whitfield and James Cleveland to Shirley Caesar and Sam Cooke. When I joined the military, Johnny Cash guided me, and kept me in some tough times when I needed to be kept. I grew up listening to music, period. I didn’t know the difference between genres.

You’re a keen appreciator of bluegrass, too – Jerry Douglas and Chris Eldridge both played on your last album, Hearts Town, you sat in with Billy Strings at WinterWonderGrass…

Michael: I grew up on The Gaithers and Ralph Stanley, so it’s great seeing bluegrass get this pump of life with Billy Strings, he’s pretty fearless right now. I don’t think people really truly understand what a true genius Chris Eldridge is as well.

The atmosphere at your gigs is often described as being like a “revival meeting” – how much does the background of your church tradition influence your sound?

Tanya: It’s intentional.

Michael: Yeah, we used to run from this question. Because the answer can be crippling when the religious experience for African Americans is dictated by pain. But that grit, that power, that resilience that is in Aretha Franklin’s version of “Amazing Grace,” the reverence that is in Mahelia Jackson’s “How I Got Over” – now I know, no matter the history, gospel singers were placed in our world to be the uplifters, to give hope. And for Tanya and I that’s in our blood. So to be able to put that same vigour, that urgency to a love song, to say I mean what I say – “I wholeheartedly believe that when I say I love you no one else can say it the same way” – that’s the gospel. Love.

Tanya: Every December we go over to Switzerland and perform at a gospel celebration. And those songs – “O Happy Day,” “Eye of the Sparrow” – pack out the place. Gospel means something different in Japan or Europe and that helped us open up our eyes. People would show up to our shows with a fire, wherever they go they expect you to bring hope. We want to keep that feeling and bring it back to the US.

These have certainly been times that people in the US and in the world in general need hope. 

Tanya: Michael said to me this morning that the world is suffocating. We may not have been wearing masks for a while but people still feel like they’re drowning. They want to breathe again.

Michael: Well come on to our show, ’cos we’re going to breathe together.


Photo Credit: Austin Hargrave

LISTEN: Izzy Heltai, “Running Out”

Artist: Izzy Heltai
Hometown: Boston, now Nashville
Single: “Running Out”
Release Date: February 24, 2023

In Their Words: “‘Running Out’ is a song about feeling lucky for the first time maybe ever. I know that sounds pretty dramatic, but if I’m not allowed to be dramatic in my songs then I don’t know when I ever will be. I had felt stuck for a while and when I wrote ‘Running Out’ I was beginning to feel like the tides were turning in my favor; things were happening, I was excited. ‘Running Out’ was written primarily as a tool for me to try and stay present in the good things that were beginning to happen. Ironically, I’m releasing a song that mentions both ‘running’ and ‘good luck’ in the same week I literally broke my hip.” — Izzy Heltai


Photo Credit: Muriel Margaret

LISTEN: Sami Braman, “Weevils in the Grits”

Artist: Sami Braman
Hometown: Nashville, Tennessee (from Seattle, Washington)
Song: “Weevils in the Grits”
Album: Riveter
Release Date: April 7, 2023
Label: Padiddle

In Their Words: “This is the newest tune on the record, composed about a year ago after realizing I had never written a tune in Calico tuning (AEAC#–one of my favorite tunings ever)! The melody flowed out quickly, using a repetitive phrase that lands on the IV chord over and over again to end each part. That repetition and simplicity was satisfying to me, especially while humming it in my head as I walked around my neighborhood later that day. The following weekend, I had breakfast at my friend (and fellow fiddler) Libby Weitnauer’s house and she made some grits that had some specks of mysterious ‘seasoning.’ Upon further investigation, we realized that ‘seasoning’ was in fact little weevils (may they rest in peace) that had grown over time within the unopened box. Some of us ate it anyway, though I was too wimpy and squeamish. But the experience provided a perfect tune name!” — Sami Braman


Photo Credit: Alex Steed

The Show On The Road – Cleve Francis

This week, my talk with self-described folk-country scientist and songwriter Cleve Francis, whose winding fifty year story in music is nearly unparalleled. Few African American artists had their work heard in the folk boom of the early 1960s, and while Francis studied to become a heart specialist after leaving the small hamlet of Jennings, Louisiana, the honey-voiced gems he laid down with his guitar in the gorgeous compilation Beyond the Willow Tree are finding devoted new audiences — this podcaster included.

LISTEN: APPLE PODCASTSSPOTIFYSTITCHER

After diving into that encyclopedic collection which showcases his songs from 1968-1970, you can see that Francis’s tastes were vast. Sparsely recorded with his beautifully airy yet powerful voice leading the way, he tributes everything from Martin Luther King Jr. and the civil rights movement to his loving interpretations of Joni Mitchell, Gordon Lightfoot, The Beatles and Bob Dylan (his fiery take on “With God On Our Side” is a must-listen). And yet, if you look deeper into his story, you’ll notice that Francis’s real love was for old school country music.

In Nashville, the list of major-label Black stars not named Charley Pride was short — and still is. But in the 1990s, while already a successful cardiologist, Francis took leave of his office in Virginia and jumped on a tour bus to promote his catchy CMT-approved records Tourist in Paradise and Walkin’. Always the trailblazer, he also founded the Black Country Music Association to help find opportunities for up-and-coming artists who were left out of the Music City limelight.

While he did return to his patients and left Nashville to its devices in the late 1990s, Francis and his work creating what he likes to call “soul-folk” are thankfully being discovered anew via the wizardry of the internet. I was so personally moved by the open-hearted power of his collection Beyond the Willow Tree that I had to find out more, and I’m so glad I did.


Photo Credit: Michael S. Williamson