New Movement Music: A Black American Soundtrack of Struggle and Protest

For Black Americans, this day, Juneteenth, has long been a celebration of the momentous historical event of emancipation from slavery — and the nearly two and a half years it took for that news to reach all enslaved peoples in this country. Juneteenth is belatedly gaining wider recognition and arrives at a time of reckoning with systemic patterns of white supremacy, especially police brutality, that remain deeply entrenched.

Like many waves of national protest before it, the uprising in the wake of the deaths of George Floyd, Breonna Taylor, Ahmaud Arbery, Tony McDade and many others has spurred the creation of its own soundtrack, and the following list spotlights the contributions of seven roots-savvy, Black music makers. Some draw on lessons learned from how songs gave spiritual succor to those on the front lines of the 1960s Civil Rights struggle, with righteously raised fists and declarations of passion and purpose. Others opt for expression that feels far more personalized or particular, articulating an adamantly complex range of emotions and letting profoundly unsettled, and unsettling, questions hang in the air. All of them are fleshing out their own vivid, timely incarnations of movement music.

Leon Bridges specializes in sophisticated soul, sometimes artfully retro in presentation and other times landing at the thoroughly contemporary end of that musical lineage. His new song “Sweeter” is an example of the latter, two minutes and 50 seconds during which his buttery vocals glide over a lean drum machine pattern, delicate, gospel-dusted bits of guitar, keyboard, piano and bass and Terrace Martin’s saxophone figures. Bridges’ words land with the devastated finality of a black man whose life is leaving his body, taken from him by police. “I thought we moved on from the darker days,” he sings, his cadence fluttery and tone ruminative. “Did the words of the King disappear in the air, like a butterfly?” The blame-laying next line arrives in a burst: “Somebody should hand you a felony.”

Then, Bridges elongates his phrasing with righteous indignation, before steadying himself to spell out the loss: “‘Cause you stole from me/my chance to be.” The elegance he chose gives his performance subtly striking, emotional heft. “From adolescence we are taught how to conduct ourselves when we encounter police to avoid the consequences of being racially profiled,” Bridges wrote in a statement. “I have been numb for too long, calloused when it came to the issues of police brutality. The death of George Floyd was the straw that broke the camel’s back for me. It was the first time I wept for a man I never met. I am George Floyd, my brothers are George Floyd, and my sisters are George Floyd. I cannot and will not be silent any longer. Just as Abel’s blood was crying out to God, George Floyd is crying out to me.”


Chastity Brown has been honing her ability to create space for emotional resistance within her songs for a while now. She draws on the pointed, confessional potential of folk and soul and the digital texturing techniques of contemporary pop and hip-hop, while depicting the patient pursuit and safekeeping of self-knowledge as a sign of strength — one that differs wildly from the sort of dominance modeled by systemic power.

In her new song “Golden,” created on her iPad in her garage studio and shared with the world this week, Brown sounds willfully unhurried singing over a skittery programmed beat: “I’ve got joy, even when I’m a target/If ya think that’s political, don’t get me started/You know I’m golden and I flaunt it.” That savoring of selfhood is in striking contrast to the furious question she circles around during the chorus: “Why have I got to be angry?”

In the artist notes accompanying the song, Brown explained that she began writing it when her nephew was beaten by four white cops while walking home in Harlem, mere weeks before George Floyd died in her adopted hometown. “This collective trauma that black, indigenous, immigrant, and queer/trans folk feel is real,” she spelled out. “It’s every god damn day. Yet, we still thrive and flourish in our nature beauty, we still have swag and songs for days. We still have wild and wondrous imaginations like we are all the children of Octavia [Butler]. …This is for me, my people, and the UPRISING to defund police here in Minneapolis and thereby set a new standard for how communities want to be protected.”


Shemekia Copeland, one of the brightest stars in contemporary blues, has been deliberate for years about broadening her repertoire and approach to encompass countrified styles, singer-songwriter song sources and statement-making folk and soul sensibilities and, in the process, positioning herself in the midst of roots music discourse. That’s the insightful perspective she brings to her just-released “Uncivil War,” whose string band style accompaniment boasts the contributions of Sam Bush and Jerry Douglas.

Coming from Copeland, and delivered with measured, dignified vibrato, the simple flipping of the name of the nation’s most notorious war to “uncivil” slyly strips a veneer of respectability from the racist and romanticized Lost Cause religion. She strikes a tone of weary but resolute optimism throughout. “It’s not just a song,” she clarified in a statement. “I’m trying to put the ‘united’ back in the United States. Like many people, I miss the days when we treated each other better. For me, this country’s all about people with differences coming together to be part of something we all love. That’s what really makes America beautiful.”


Kam Franklin, on her own and with her Houston horn band The Suffers, has the wide-ranging musical instincts, imagination, nerve, and ear for earthy verisimilitude to make big statements while zeroing in on small interactions. A couple of weeks back, she posted a brand new, self-recorded song fragment to SoundCloud, a platform well suited to off-the-cuff expression, and with it, this comment: “I saw a photo of Breonna Taylor with her homegirls earlier today, and it gutted me. I won’t forget her. I wrote this birthday song for her, her friends that wondered where she was before the news came out, and everyone that loved her.”

Titled “Happy Birthday Breonna,” it’s a pensive, sinuous bit of ‘70s soul that drives home the fact that Taylor was ripped from a web of close relationships. The first, and only verse, lands like a voicemail from a friend who grew worried when she couldn’t reach Taylor. Franklin’s graceful trills and softly insistent phrasing have an understatement that suggests fretful preoccupation. Then she moves into a point-counterpoint refrain, murmuring birthday wishes to Taylor in her breathy upper register and making a devastating declaration beneath: “You should be here.”


Singer-guitarist and actor Celisse Henderson began work on writing, recording, and filming a video for her song “FREEDOM” four years ago, following the slayings of Philando Castile and Alton Sterling, and watched as black deaths and protest momentum multiplied before she finally completed and released her project earlier this month.

In a message on her website, Henderson explained, “I, along with millions of people, watched video footage of these unarmed black men losing their lives in the most horrific ways. The truth that these unjust deaths revealed about our country, including the systemic failings of our criminal justice system, became my personal call-to-action. Then the 2016 election night happened, and the results added a whole new layer to the purpose of this song and project. Now, almost four years later, too little has been done, and the story remains the same. With the horrific and unjust killings of Ahmaud Arbery, Breonna Taylor, and George Floyd weighing heavily on our hearts and minds, it is time to release ‘FREEDOM’ as a rallying cry and a call to action to stand up and fight for our freedom.”

Historic footage of the March on Washington that opens the clip is a reminder of the buoying role that spirituals played in the Civil Rights movement of the 1960s, and serves the narrative function of positioning Henderson to measure the too-meager progress for Black Americans since. The track is gospel-schooled and hard-rocking, powered by a thunderous, syncopated drum pattern and grinding electric guitar attack. With gospel fervor and a touch of theatrical flourish, Henderson summons a spirit of urgency and extends a broad welcome to all who are affected or disturbed by injustice.


Joy Oladokun, a Nigerian-American singer-songwriter who’s quietly carving out her place in Nashville’s professional songwriting community with introspective, melancholy warmth, steered a co-writing appointment with Natalie Hemby toward an expression of grief. The result was “Who Do I Turn To?” a naked airing of fear and distrust.

Oladokun’s reedy, plaintive performance is accompanied only by minimal piano chords. She spends the chorus adding up horrifying realizations that lead her to a resounding question: “If I can’t save myself/If it’s all black and white/If I can’t call for help/in the middle of the night/If I can’t turn to god/If I can’t turn to you/Who do I turn to?” Her voice subtly catches on the word “help,” as though knowing that life-giving protection is unavailable to her constricts her breath. Oladokun underscored the importance of the chorus lyrics to an interviewer: “[I]t’s illustrating that I don’t trust the police since I’m black. I don’t trust the police enough to know that they would think I’m not robbing my own home. I don’t think a lot of people understand what that is like. The feeling sucks.” In a separate statement she summarized her intent: “I wanted to write a firsthand account of how I feel and the question black people like me ask when this happens over and over again while nothing changes. I want it out now to help an already traumatized people cope, heal, and put words to their struggle.”


Wyatt Waddell, a young Chicago music-maker who’s been expertly, wittily, and self-sufficiently arranging home recordings of classic covers and singer-songwriter soul originals for the past few years, wrote “FIGHT!” as an anthem of admiration and uplift for young, Black Americans putting their bodies on the line in the streets and facing off against police force to agitate for change. “This song is me looking at what’s happening and what I’d tell the people protesting,” he specified in a statement. “I had to look outside of myself at what’s going on and how people are being affected. Hearing people’s fears, anxieties, and watching everything happening on TV really helped me write the song. I hope that it can be an anthem for my people as they’re fighting for a better America.”

Waddell begins with gospel-style repetition, creating a call-and-response pattern made up of his own layered vocals over a churchly foot stomp and hand clap groove: “There’s already so much pain/So much pain/So much pain/There’s already so much pain/And there ain’t nothin’ else we can do.” It seems like he could be building up to a confession of helplessness; instead, his funky refrain is bolstered by a sense of resolve and inevitability: “Nothin’ to do but fight.”


Photo credit: (L to R) Shemekia Copeland by Mike White; Chastity Brown by Wale Agboola; Leon Bridges by Jack McKain.

Della Mae Offer Encouragement and Illumination on ‘Headlight’

Della Mae have shaken up bluegrass and old-time stages for the better part of the last decade, with a mile-long resume that even includes a stint as cultural diplomats with the U.S. State Department. With Headlight, the Boston band’s first full-length album in five years, they’re providing their most powerful statement yet.

Written primarily on retreat at MOXE, a women-owned creative retreat outside of Nashville, the band taps into a more overt kind of activism than we’ve seen from them before, with lyrics that lift up victims of abuse, lend solace to the weary, and offer a single directive in the fight for change: to always keep moving forward.

Produced by Dan Knobler and recorded at Sound Emporium Studios in Nashville, the album features vocal powerhouses like the McCrary Sisters alongside instrumental heavyweights such as keyboardist Jen Gunderman and guitarist Molly Tuttle. Its tracks boast the fast picking and sublime harmonies that Della Mae fans have come to expect. BGS caught up with lead singer and songwriter Celia Woodsmith, discussing the new music and the band’s long record of working for equality in bluegrass and beyond.

BGS: The album opens with “Headlight,” a powerful song about standing up in the face of abuse. What drove you to write it?

Woodsmith: “Headlight” was definitely a hard one to write but it came out really quickly. I had been trying to write a song that could capture this feeling, the #MeToo movement feeling, and nothing was coming out. It really was after Christine Blasey Ford testified in front of Congress that it happened — the song came out in about twenty minutes, a very quick thing. I think I’d finally just had it.

As we [the band] have gotten older and more mature as human beings and as women and as musicians, it’s been easier and easier to not really care what other people think of us. [Laughs] It’s easier to say what we want to say, without fear that we might “ruin our career” or that the backlash will be too hard to handle. Truly, I didn’t write it as a political song, and I didn’t write it as something to divide people. I wrote it as an anthem, an ode to all the women in my life and the women I’ve seen all over the world who have stood up and been brave and been ridiculed for it.

Are there ways that you feel like your fans and your listeners could be “headlights” in their communities?

One of the lyrics is, “No need to be rude, just sit back and listen.” I think right now, especially, we really don’t listen to one another; we don’t want to listen to one another. There are a lot of takeaways that I hope people can grab from this song, but if standing up for women’s rights is beyond them, then I hope that they can just get through the song, just listen to it, just think about it. That’s all I can hope for.

As a listener yourself, what’s something in music in the last year or two that has made you particularly hopeful about what’s to come?

The first thing that comes to mind is the album by The Highwomen — Brandi Carlile, Maren Morris, Amanda Shires, and Natalie Hemby. That album, that project, really made me happy. First of all, that these women were badass enough to stand up and say, ‘This is a problem in country music. You don’t play our songs and you don’t play our albums, and we are absolutely going to stick this in your face.”

You have people constantly, your whole life, telling you that you’re “pretty good for a girl.” Believe me, Della Mae has gotten plenty of that. And it’s so frustrating. But when these high-profile women stand up for the rest of us, it elevates all of our voices. To have an album like The Highwomen do so well, be so well done — and by these four powerhouses — made me so hopeful for the future, hopeful that other young women are going to see this same thing and say, yeah, you know what? You should play our music. We are good enough.

Della Mae has been a presence like that for women all over the world, working with the State Department, performing in countries where women might not always see other women on stage. In your travels, were there times when you encountered a bluegrass community in places where people might not expect to find it?

Yeah, absolutely. We have found really amazing bluegrass musicians in Russia, and we’ve found them in the Czech Republic, and we’ve found them in France. Bluegrass is everywhere. It’s quite amazing to me, actually. We met a really amazing three-finger-style banjo player in Uzbekistan. This woman just learned how to do it from YouTube, and we were the first bluegrass musicians she’d ever jammed with.

Another time, these young Russian bluegrass musicians we sat down to pick with asked us to play [one of our songs] “Sweet Verona,” and they played right along with us. It was truly astonishing. That goes to show how small the world is. If you have an internet connection, you can listen to just about whatever you want, and you can learn. Bluegrass is a global thing, it’s everywhere. But it’s everywhere because it’s folk music, and I think that people can really relate to it.

I’ve seen quotes where Della Mae describe Headlight as the album you’ve always wanted to make. What were you enabled or empowered to do here that you haven’t been able to do in the past?

I think that kind of ties back into the “not-giving-a-crap-anymore” thing. We had always been afraid to have drums on an album, we’d always been afraid to plug in, use effects. [Because] we were in bluegrass, and kind of cornered into that genre, it felt like we couldn’t expand our musicianship, because we didn’t want to anger our fans.

We obviously care a lot about our fans, but [now] we think that we can take our fans with us, take them along for the ride. We’ve been playing for ten years. Our fans know that we can play a fiddle tune, and that we can play bluegrass standards. But we can also plug in and rock out and really perform songs that have meaning behind them, and do it with a lot of flair.

Do you think the pressure to adhere to tradition can be an obstacle for bluegrass musicians today?

I think that’s a problem being faced by bluegrass musicians, I think especially young musicians, but I think it’s getting better. Alison Brown, an absolute legend on the banjo, said it last year in her IBMA keynote speech: Change is coming to bluegrass, whether or not they want it. We have to start opening our arms more to different expressions of bluegrass.

There can be traditional bluegrass — that’s fine — but if someone has drums, or someone plugs in, or someone plays in an untraditional way, that doesn’t mean that we have to eliminate them completely from the genre. If we do that, then bluegrass music will slowly start to die. People won’t want to play it when they can’t play around with it, when they can’t give to it their own expression and their own creativity.

Recently I think there’s more openness to what bluegrass is, as opposed to what it isn’t. People will always say, “Well, that’s not bluegrass, they don’t have a fiddle,” or, “That’s not bluegrass, they don’t have a banjo.” More often lately, though, it’s been more like, “Oh, these musicians can play bluegrass, but they can also play a bunch of other stuff.” It’s better to celebrate that than to distance yourself.

Your new song “The Long Game” tackles the idea of temporary sacrifice for an ultimate goal. What are some of your challenges in playing the long game, and what keeps you looking forward?

We’re very lucky that this is our career, that we can travel around the world, meet people, write songs. But the day-to-day stuff is really hard. You’re kind of coaching yourself — “Just drink another cup of coffee and you’ll be fine.” When you’ve been a band for ten years, a lot of interpersonal stuff comes up. You may lose members over the years. We’ve had members turn over, and each time it’s difficult. It’s always the closing of a chapter, and then moving on a new way of thinking about Della Mae.

I love this band, and I love the women I play with, and I feel so grateful that we’re able to do this together. We’re really a family and a team, so I think that’s part of the long game, too — accepting change and learning to deal with it in a positive way, as opposed to a negative way. You’re always going to have surprises along the road, and you’ve just got to, well, keep playing the long game.


Photo credit: David McLister

WATCH: The Highwomen Harmonize in Howard Stern’s Studio

Four world-class artists, one incredible super-group; what’s not to love? The Highwomen have been taking the world by storm as they bring together some of country and Americana’s finest singers and songwriters. Here are Brandi Carlile, Natalie Hemby, Maren Morris, and Amanda Shires performing “Redesigning Women” in Howard Stern’s studio.


Photo credit: Alysse Gafkjen

Drew Holcomb & the Neighbors Gather Friends and Family, Too

Drew Holcomb could lead quite a neighborhood association. Along with his band, The Neighbors, he collaborated with such all-star songwriters as Natalie Hemby, Sean McConnell, Lori McKenna, and The Lone Bellow’s Zach Wiliams for the band’s newest release, Dragons. Although it wrestles with some heavier themes — particularly dealing with grief and accepting that time moves faster as you get older — the record as a whole is an exhilarating listening experience that bridges the gap between the introspection of their prior albums and the dynamic of their live show.

As a friendly neighbor would do, Holcomb invited BGS for a cup of coffee near his home in East Nashville.

BGS: You did a lot of co-writing on this record and these songs have some real depth to them. Did you find yourself going into deep conversations as you were writing the songs?

DH: Yeah. Everybody I wrote with were friends. I still don’t love co-writing, but I like it with the right people. I already had a pretty clear vision of how I wanted to get intensely personal on this record. So when I wrote with Lori, for instance, we weren’t just writing songs for whoever, we were specifically writing for me and my record. She was able to draw things out of me while still letting me have the primary vision of what I wanted.

And yeah, there were a lot of great conversations. The song “Maybe” with Natalie was just… We were talking about how you have all these dreams you want to pursue, places you want to see, experiences you want to have — and as you get older, sometimes you think… you know, this is kind of exhausting. What I really want to do is, I just want to be with people I love, in the place that I love, and enjoy that.

That was pretty neat how you brought your granddad into the song “Dragons.” Did he really appear to you in a dream?

It’s sort of a mixture of dreams. I lost my brother when I was 17. I lost my grandfather when I was 23. Those were probably the two closest people to me. And I lost a friend to an overdose at 20. But everybody I’ve ever lost who was really close to me, I had very vivid dreams of them — and wake up super sad. They’re so real. You kind of relive the grief all over again, when you wake up.

But some of my dreams of my grandfather have been really sort of playful and fun. You know, because he lived a full life. There’s less sadness around that. I had those lines in the chorus of “Dragons” before we started the song, and was just looking for a way to deliver them, and that sort of attitude about life I got from my grandfather – to take chances, you only live once.

What’s that experience like when you write about your family — like your brother, your son, or your granddad — and then you play the song for your family?

Well, like “Dragons” — a lot of my siblings have their own experiences and their own histories with my granddad. So same question: “Is this a real dream?” And “Family” was one that everybody immediately fell in love with. I come from a huge family, I mean 14 to 28 grandkids on my mother’s side. It’s like beautiful chaos when we’re together. For the most part everybody gets along. There’s a lot of children, grandchildren, a lot of chaos. So that song, I think, really represents sort of my experience with family.

I love the line, “Going on vacation / On the credit card.” My dad loved to travel. And he would always say, “You’re never going to inherit any money, but I’ve made all my deposits in the memory bank.” Part of it was because of my brother in the wheelchair. Dad knew that maybe his time was shorter than the rest of us, so he wanted to take every opportunity. We had this big conversion van and every summer he’d take off two weeks and we would just go. I saw 44 states by the time I graduated high school.

Wow. And you were based in Chattanooga at the time?

Yeah. So we went off to California. Went to the Pacific Northwest. Went to Colorado and Texas, New Mexico, all the way up… We did a New England trip. We did all up in Canada. All of it driving.

Was there a music component to this, too?

Oh sure. Yeah, we’d listen to a lot of oldies radio. Back when tapes were still a thing, you could buy $5 tapes at the truck stop, and so he would let us all pick out a tape at the start of the trip. My favorite one I ever got was this Joe Cocker record. It had this Jimmy Webb song called “The Moon’s a Harsh Mistress.” And we had our Walkmans too. We’d play our tape and then we’d kind of take off on our own thing. In some ways, those road trips are where I fell in love with music. Dad loved Dylan, so we listened to a lot of the sort of pop songwriter guys.

Were you playing guitar by this point too?

Started to. Got my first guitar when I was 12. Really started to learn how to play at 14. By high school, I was proficient enough to play through most of the songs I liked.

Did you just teach yourself?

I had a friend who was really one of those “play everything” guys — Jonathan. He played piano, guitar, drums. He lived down the street. He kind of taught me. I took lessons but the lessons never really caught, because it was more like theory and stuff. I was like, “No, I just want to play some Bob Seger.”

When did you get interested in vinyl records?

My wife’s wedding present to me was a record player. And then my first job was in music, as a sort of studio runner for a guy named Paul Ebersold, a producer. He and Ellie kind of conspired. She went and got me the record player. He went and bought me a bunch of classics — Born to Run, Blood on the Tracks, Van Morrison, all the stuff he knew I loved. Then on our honeymoon, we went out to San Francisco and went to Amoeba Records there in Haight-Ashbury. We spent like $500 on vinyl, shipped it all home, and that was sort of the start for us.

You launched the Magnolia Record Club now and you curate the Moon River Music Festival. That’s all interesting to me because it’s about music discovery. Why is that important to you, to help people discover music?

I think in some ways it’s like a pay-it-back, or paying forward. That’s how people found me, was by someone, some curator, taking a chance and putting me in front of listeners. I had never had a radio hit. Never really had a big national tour. Done some tours with friends, but I never had the machine, but I still made it because a lot of festival buyers and legacy acts and younger bands have shared their stages with me, and shared their audiences with me.

On the press side too — we’ve never blown up in the press, but we’ve had lots of people give us a lot of healthy attention. We played Bonnaroo in 2013 and I still have people all the time come up to me and say, “I first heard you at Bonnaroo.” That happens at all the different festivals we play. And so, I wanted to create that same sort of opportunity, but also I wanted to do it as a fan. I wanted to put these bills together.

We talked about this a little bit, about how you found your audience. But it seems to me that part of that is that you showed up for everything. You really took it seriously from the start. Where do you get that work ethic from?

I think part of it is that my dad always instilled this “work hard at all costs” in me. It was like, I’m going to get beat on talent — and that was definitely true when I was younger. I may get beat on opportunity, and with who you know. Nobody’s going to out-work me.

My first vehicle that I toured in was a 1998 Volvo station wagon. I bought it in 2003 with 64,000 miles on it. And in 2008, five years later, it died at 380,000 miles. I put 320,000 miles on it in five years, driving anywhere anybody would book me. I played 200 to 250 shows a year: coffee shops, living rooms, cover songs at bars, college campuses. Whether I was getting paid fifty bucks or a thousand bucks during that era, it was like, the only way to do this is to show up as often as possible.


Photo credit: Ashtin Paige

The Highwomen Make Room for Lori McKenna at Their “Crowded Table”

Hungry for new music? Here’s another serving of The Highwomen, harmonizing effortlessly on “Crowded Table.” A co-write with Lori McKenna and band members Brandi Carlile and Natalie Hemby, it’s from their upcoming self-titled album, produced by Dave Cobb and set for a September 6 release. (Take a look at the track listing at the bottom of the story.)

The band, of course, is composed of Carlile, Hemby, Maren Morris, and Amanda Shires. But who else is crowded around the table? Sheryl Crow, Jason Isbell, and Yola are all confirmed to appear on the album, as well as Carlile’s longtime musical partners Phil Hanseroth (bass, background vocals) and Tim Hanseroth (guitar, background vocals), Chris Powell (drums) and Peter Levin (piano and keyboards).

Look for The Highwomen this weekend at Newport Folk Festival, their only scheduled appearance.

1. “Highwomen” (written by Brandi Carlile, Amanda Shires, Jimmy Webb)
2. “Redesigning Women” (written by Natalie Hemby, Rodney Clawson)
3. “Loose Change” (written by Maren Morris, Maggie Chapman, Daniel Layus)
4. “Crowded Table” (written by Brandi Carlile, Natalie Hemby, Lori McKenna)
5. “My Name Can’t Be Mama” (written by Brandi Carlile, Maren Morris, Amanda Shires)
6. “If She Ever Leaves Me” (written by Amanda Shires, Jason Isbell, Chris Thompkins)
7. “Old Soul” (written by Maren Morris, Luke Dick, Laura Veltz)
8. “Don’t Call Me” (written by Amanda Shires, Peter Levin)
9. “My Only Child” (written by Natalie Hemby, Amanda Shires, Miranda Lambert)
10. “Heaven Is A Honky Tonk” (written by Brandi Carlile, Natalie Hemby, Ray LaMontagne)
11. “Cocktail And A Song” (written by Amanda Shires)
12. “Wheels Of Laredo” (written by Brandi Carlile, Tim Hanseroth, Phil Hanseroth)


Photo credit: Alysse Gafkjen

WATCH: The Highwomen, “Redesigning Women”

The day has come, The Highwomen are here! The superstar assemblage of some of this moment’s most prominent and influential voices in country and Americana includes 2019’s breakout star, Brandi Carlile, Nashville’s Americana sweetheart Amanda Shires, singer and hit songwriter Natalie Hemby, and one of mainstream country’s current powerhouses — and a one of very few women to break into the upper echelons of country’s radio charts these days — Maren Morris.

The Highwomen and their contemporaries — unapologetic, unabashed women who proudly stand on their own agency and vision, artistic and otherwise — have defined the last handful of years of American roots music with releases such as “Redesigning Women.” These songs simultaneously acknowledge the uphill climb women face today, especially in roots genres, but not without a heavy dose of the same mettle, the outstanding courage, that has allowed them to already supersede their barriers to entry.

With a moniker that directly references and re-appropriates the iconic all-male supergroup of the 80s and 90s (Johnny Cash, Willie Nelson, Waylon Jennings, and Kris Kristofferson) it might appear that these four have gargantuan shoes to fill. However, any of even the most casual country fans of the past half decade would know the Highwomen are more than up for the task.


Photo credit: Alysse Gafkjen

Donovan Woods, ‘Good Lover’

Nashville is a songwriter’s town. We know this well. And, sometimes, the people behind some of the most treasured, or most successful, tunes can go years — or even forever — without their own voice or face being known to the world. Often, this is by choice; but other times, it’s because their subtleties can get swallowed by the celebrity around them, hiding the jewels within their own signature style. Lately, though, there’s been a string of breakouts in the artist/songwriter world — from Natalie Hemby and excellent solo debut to, most recently, Donovan Woods, one of the creative forces behind Tim McGraw, Charlie Worsham, and Charles Kelley cuts. Woods — who actually lives in Canada — has been releasing solo LPs for years, but his newest, Both Ways, is a stunning, textural triumph of lush folk songs with gorgeous, evocative lyricism laced throughout.

“Good Lover,” the album’s opener, begins with solemn words to a soft voice and delicate acoustic plucks: It’s about regrets and mistakes and the wishes we have for ourselves to be better or different than we are, while simultaneously accepting our fate. Through vivid imagery, Woods describes that packing up and moving out that comes with the dissolution of a relationship, with full boxes but empty, aching hearts. “But it’s over now,” Woods sings, looking back on the past, “I had a good run but I lucked it out. The neighbors clocked it, then we’ve been cleaning out that tiny house where we could settle for each other.” Woods delivers “Good Lover” like he’s singing into a confessional, with the window open for us all to hear — and remind us that, thankfully, his point of view isn’t just confined to the album credits of others.

11 Artists We’re Excited to See at AmericanaFest 2017

This year, AmericanaFest is packing more than 300 artist showcases into six days in Nashville. Yeah. That’s a LOT of music. It’s not going to be easy to see everyone, but we’re going to try. Here are a few of our absolute musts:

Lee Ann Womack

We may not be big on rules around here, but we sure do love our LAW. That’s why we’re thrilled to say that, on Thursday, she’ll be Hangin’ & Sangin’ with us live on Facebook at 1 pm CT. Then, later that night, LAW & Friends take over the Music City Roots tent to close out the night. AmericanaFest could end right there, and we’d be happy. Luckily, though, there’s plenty more to come!

Birds of Chicago

Just watch the video. You’ll see.

Chastity Brown

Chastity is a rising star in the Americana world, and we couldn’t be more happy about that. Her songs run deep and wide. Catch her Friday night at the Anchor just before Birds of Chicago and Kacy & Clayton.

Lori McKenna

It’s no secret that McKenna is one of our girl crushes. She’ll be at 3rd & Lindsley on Thursday night (at the same time as LAW, sadly) with Willie Watson, Brent Cobb, and Shannon McNally. (We’re working on a cloning machine so we can be everywhere we want to be. Sure hope it’s ready by then!) 

Natalie Hemby

Hemby kicks off the Saturday night lineup at 3rd & Lindsley which also includes Elizabeth Cook, Lucie Silvas, and Jack Ingram. We’ve reserved a table for the whole dang thang. Come say hi!

Yola Carter

Hopefully, you caught Yola’s recent Hangin’ & Sangin’ appearance so that you know how great she is. If you want more, she’ll be at 12th & Porter on Friday night and the Groove on Saturday. 

Erin Rae

We’ve already gotten to hear Erin’s new album which is slated for a release early next year and, suffice it to say, it’s our first favorite record of 2018. Catch her Friday night at City Winery or spend Saturday afternoon at the Groove with her, Yola, Angaleena Presley, Courtney Marie Andrews, and others. (Spoiler alert: That’s where we’ll be.)

Becca Mancari

In another total Sophie’s choice, Becca is playing on Friday night at the SAME EXACT TIME as Chastity, so we’re gonna have to divide and conquer this thing. But divide and conquer we shall because they are both fantastic artists that we’re excited to support.

Leyla McCalla

Like LAW, Leyla is joining us for an AmericanaFest episode of Hangin’ & Sangin’ on Friday at 2 pm CT. She’ll also be showcasing on Thursday night at 9 pm at the Country with Emily Barker and Travis Linville, showing off her beautifully traditional roots.

Phoebe Hunt

If you’re a fan of acoustic folk based in bluegrass with elements of chamber music and far-reaching world music flavors — centered around solid songs — you’ve gotta catch Phoebe (& the Gatherers … band name pun for the win!). She has a couple of early showcases on Tuesday, with her main performance on Friday night at the Basement.

Amanda Shires

Yes. The rumors are true: Amanda will soon make her debut as the new BGS music critic. While you wait for that, you can find her tearing it up at the Station Inn on Friday night with Noam Pikelny and Luke Bulla.

3×3: Ruston Kelly on Reigns, Rains, and Trains

Artist: Ruston Kelly
Hometown:  Nashville, TN
Latest Album: Halloween
Personal Nicknames: None

 

Thanks WMOT 89.5 for having me out today to play prolly the saddest set list ever to be broadcast. #1000graves

A post shared by Ruston Kelly (@rustonkelly) on

If you could go back (or forward) to live in any decade, when would you choose? 

To be in my 20s or 30s in the late ’50s.

Who would be your dream co-writer?

I had a few. Hillary Lindsey, Lori McKenna, and Natalie Hemby. I’m lucky to say that not only are they all seriously beautiful souls, but we’re buds now. Natalie and I have a piece of notebook paper officiating our brother/sister bond, actually. 

If a song started playing every time you entered the room, what would you want it to be?

“Reigning Blood” by Slayer

What is the one thing you can’t survive without on tour?

It was cigarettes, now it’s a phone charger and whatever book I’m on at the moment. 

What are you most afraid of?

Being a fucking lunatic.

Who is your celebrity crush?

Nicki Minaj

 

Ay just wait #BLACKMAGIC video coming so soon

A post shared by Ruston Kelly (@rustonkelly) on

Pickles or olives?

Pickles, duh.

Plane, train, or automobile?

Train

Which is worse — rainy days or Mondays?

Rainy days are the best days, so I’m gonna go with Mondays!

ANNOUNCING: Two New Ways to Hang & Sang

Last summer, Team BGS noticed that Facebook was really pushing their Live videos. We also saw that our friends Ann Powers and Jewly Hight were doing some casual sessions on Ann’s porch here in Nashville for NPR Music using that medium. So we decided we should give it a whirl. Ani DiFranco was coming to town, and we asked if she’d be our first. We didn’t have a name for it or much of a plan at all, but Ani said yes and City Winery said we could use their lounge. On June 30, 2016, what would become Hangin’ & Sangin’ was born.

Since then, we’ve had Sam Bush, Lori McKenna, Uncle Earl, Indigo Girls, Chely Wright, Colin Hay, Natalie Hemby, Ruby Amanfu, Special Consensus, the Revivalists, Marc Broussard, the McCrary Sisters, Whiskey Myers, Glen Phillips, Mary Gauthier, and a slew of other fantastic artists on the show.

And we’re just getting started.

In the weeks ahead, we’ll be hangin’ with Johnnyswim, Angaleena Presley, Drew Holcomb, John Paul White, Rodney Crowell, Sunny Sweeney, Keb’ Mo’, Gaby Moreno, and so many more of your favorite artists at Hillbilly Central, right off Music Row, in the heart of Nashville. Join us every Friday at 2:30 pm CT on Facebook Live, catch us every Sunday at 6:30 am and Tuesday at 9 pm on WMOT Roots Radio, or listen to the podcast via iTunes any time you like. We’d love to have you hang with us.

 

Special thanks to Alison Brown, Garry West, Gordon Hammond, and everyone at Compass Records for lending us their historic studio. Additional thanks to Jessie Scott, Val Hoeppner, John Walker, Craig Havighurst, and the whole team at WMOT Roots Radio for giving us some air time. And an extra shout out to Josephine Wood for helping get this thing off the ground to begin with. We couldn’t be happier to partner with all of you.