Tag: nick drake

John Mailander’s Improvisational Forecast Says ‘Let The World In’

Posted on by Justin Hiltner

Whether or not you know it, you’ve likely heard John Mailander music. Chances are he’s even worked with one (or some) of your favorite artists, from Bruce Hornsby to Billy Strings, Noah Kahan, Joy Williams, Lucy Dacus, Molly Tuttle, and many more.

No disrespect to his work with the Noisemakers (who he’s toured with since 2018), or Strings’ GRAMMY-winning album Home, or any other projects, but it’s Mailander’s original works where his musical wizardry glows brightest. On his latest effort, Let the World In, his abilities are stronger than ever as he combines the influences from everyone he’s worked with into an adventure of orchestral bliss guided by trance-like, open-ended jazzy jams.

Helping Mailander to paint these soundscapes across nine tracks and 35 total minutes of run-time are his longtime band members in Forecast – Ethan Jodziewicz, Chris Lippincott, Mark Raudabaugh, Jake Stargel, David Williford – who he first started playing with during a Nashville residency at Dee’s Country Cocktail Lounge in 2019 to celebrate the release of his debut album of the same name. Through eight instrumental tracks (and a cover of Nick Drake’s “Road”) they send listeners on an introspective journey throughout Let the World In that brings the jazz leaning work of Hornsby and jam-fueled tendencies of Phish together, showing just how far he and Forecast have grown and evolved since first coming together.

“The first record was a blueprint, the second was settling into and discovering who we are, and this record is the most confident statement of who we are,” Mailander tells BGS. “Harmonies, colors, melodic themes, it can all be tied back to the first record in some way.”

Mailander spoke to us ahead of the album’s release about how all of his prior collaborative experiences set the stage for Let the World In to shine, writing on the piano, reality checks from recording, song sequencing, and more.

From your work with Billy Strings and Bruce Hornsby to your own music, you’ve always had a very collaborative way about you and this new record is no exception. What are your thoughts on the significance that played in the process of bringing this album to life?

John Mailander: Collaboration and improvisation are some of the most beautiful parts of being a musician. I love working with the widest variety of artists that I can. It’s a great way to become closer on a human level with the people you’re working with.

Initially, when I was starting this Forecast project, I envisioned it as more of a collective of musicians where we could all bring our own original tunes to the table and improvise freely. However, over time it’s formed into a more regular lineup with the six of us, allowing for the group to grow together as a unit.

Is the album title, Let the World In, meant to be a nod to that collaborative nature and outside influences that loom so large on the project?

Absolutely. The title has a lot of different angles to it. I hesitate to say everything it means to me because I don’t want to put it into too much of a box – I want to leave room for the listener to imagine what it means for them as well. It’s a follow-up to the last record [Look Closer] that we made in isolation during the pandemic.

While that record was very introspective, this new one is much more expansive, because of the world opening up more now and having this constant flood of information coming at us from all directions. It’s an overwhelming time to be alive, so this album feels like a companion piece to the last one, almost like the other side of the coin.

The title track also features the “Let the World In Sound Freedom Expressionists” – Hannah Delynn, Maya de Vitry, Gibb Droll, Ella Korth, Lindsay Lou, and Royal Masat. What was your intention with recruiting them for that one track, and what do you feel they brought to it that it may not have had otherwise?

They are a collection of very dear friends in Nashville who have been there for me in my personal life through a lot. It felt really important to me to credit these friends on the record in some way. That manifested into this collection of sound bites from each of them including poetry, sound effects, singing, and field recordings, which I put together into the sound collage you hear in the track. I love knowing that all of their voices are in there. I hope with each listen you can tune into different elements of it and hear new things.

In terms of outside influences on the record, I know Bruce Hornsby played a big role. What tricks and lessons from him did you implement into these songs?

Bruce is one of my greatest teachers. He’s been really encouraging over the past few years to pursue this project, grow into a band leader, and becoming more confident on the piano. I’m very rudimentary, but I’ve become obsessed with learning the piano recently, in large part thanks to Bruce and watching him play it so much. Everything on this record – except for the cover, “Road,” and the improvisational tracks – were ones I wrote on the piano, which was a huge change in direction for me.

I’ve also tried to incorporate elements of how he leads a band, like having dueling conversational solos rather than individual ones or weaving in and out of and finishing each other’s lines, into what we do with the Forecast as well.

Process-wise, how did the construction of these songs on the piano differ from when you’re composing on fiddle?

Going back to the title of this record, the piano gave it a wider scope compositionally for me, because I was thinking a lot more about bass lines and counter melodies and other things that as a fiddle player aren’t as prevalent. With the fiddle I think much more melodically – it’s kind of the top voice – which makes it harder for me to compose that way because even though it’s my primary instrument it’s hard to get a full picture with it. On the piano it felt more like writing for an entire ensemble rather than just writing a melody in chords.

You ended up knocking out the recording for this album during four consecutive days last year. What was it like doing it all rapid-fire like that compared to the more conventional, slow and steady approach?

It was intense, and we even recorded more than just what made it on the record. A lot of the work in post [production], for me, has been crafting everything we recorded into something that tells a story, which would’ve been tough to do across multiple sessions with the band over time, given that they’re all touring musicians as well. It felt good getting together with everyone from basically 10 to 6 every day and working our butts off as much as we could. It was the most concentrated and focused time we’ve ever had together as a band, as well as a reality check about things in the band we needed to work on.

It’s like putting a microscope on everything because we’ve been playing live at Dee’s every month for a few years, but now we’re in this hyper-focused environment where we can hear and analyze every minor detail. It opened up a lot of rabbit holes that I ended up going down later, but I think we really grew as a band through the process of making it this way.

You mentioned the time being a reality check for what you needed to work on as a band. What were some of those things?

It was like putting a microscope on how the particular instrumentation and individual voices on our instruments really blend and work together, revealing sonic and dynamic things that worked or not. It revealed some habits we’d gotten into through playing live that we discovered didn’t always translate to a record. The sessions were an awesome and intensive way to grow as a unit.

You’ve produced all of the Forecast records thus far. Is that something you plan to continue doing in the future?

Actually, the next record we do I’d like to have another producer. I love producing, but I’m realizing that for my own music I’d like to get another perspective in the room next time we do it. It’s really tough taking on both of those roles, but I’m really proud of what we did and grateful for producing it again this time around.

One of my favorite elements of the record is how well the songs flow from one into another – if listened through in order it presents almost as one long, 35-minute track. Tell me about sequencing this record and the importance for listeners to digest the full project from start to finish?

I’ve always been a nerd about sequencing records. I think it’s a really important part of the experience of listening to music. With this one I put a lot more attention into connecting the tracks. Some of them blend into one another, which is something that my mastering engineer Wayne Pooley – who I know through the Bruce Hornsby world – and I spent countless time laboring over the microseconds between every track to make sure each one hits you in a very intentional way.

Only one track on the album has lyrics – your cover of Nick Drake’s “Road.” Why’d you choose it, and what do you feel it contributes to the overall narrative you’re striving to present on the record?

[Nick’s] been a huge inspiration for years. Even as more of an instrumentalist I’ve always been drawn to his writing. But in terms of that song, I’ve known it for a while and love the entire record it’s on, Pink Man. About a year and a half ago – just before work on Let the World In began – I brought the song to the band. Nick Drake’s version is around two minutes long, but I thought it would be cool to use the song as a tool with our band to improvise and jam like we do at our live shows. We did just that by stretching it out to over nine minutes long. Lyrically it fits with the themes on the rest of the record, but it’s not heavy-handed either. It’s still open to interpretation, which is what I really value in it.

Initially I thought about having a guest vocalist on it, because on our last record we had a couple guest singers. But as we got closer and closer to the studio sessions I realized that it was important for me to sing this one myself, and I’m really proud with how it turned out.

If you could collaborate or have a jam session with any musician past or present, who would it be?

My hero, Trey Anastasio. It would be a dream to play or collaborate with him someday.

What has music, specifically when it comes to the creation process for Let the World In, taught you about yourself?

It’s allowed me to connect with my bandmates on a deeper level than I know how to do any other way. Through that I’m able to tap into those energies that exist between us as people, which is a type of connection I practice and strive to achieve every day.

Photo Credit: Michael Weintrob

BGS 5+5: Lyle de Vitry

Posted on by Justin Hiltner

Artist: Lyle de Vitry
Hometown: Originally Lancaster, Pennsylvania, but I now live in Asheville, North Carolina.
Latest Album: Door Within A Dream
Personal Nicknames (or rejected band names): I have a lot of nicknames in my family. Pan, Chi, Fluffy Bundun, Lymees, Lyman are a few classics.

Which artist has influenced you the most – and how?

Nick Drake has been a long time favorite and he’s certainly one of my biggest influences. When I was about 14 or 15, I remember diving deep into his records and being so completely blown away by his guitar playing. I had never heard anyone play like that, and it opened up a whole world for me. At that point I wasn’t writing my own music, but I learned some of Nick’s songs and began exploring his tunings, which, to me, were so wonderfully strange and emotionally evocative.

When I started writing my own songs I would often use some of these tunings, as well as some other open tunings I picked up along the way from other artists. Eventually, I began inventing some of my own tunings, which is something I’m not sure I would have been as likely to do had I not delved so deeply into Nick’s work. Playing a guitar in an unfamiliar tuning helps me to get into that childlike, playful state where I’m making discoveries and delighting in them. Like trying ice cream for the first time or leaping into your first icy cold river. In those moments, there is no time or space to feel self-conscious – for your full attention is fixated on this new joyful experience.

I tend to be drawn to artists who sing more softly. In addition to Nick Drake, some of my greatest influences and inspirations include Jose Gonzalez, Sufjan Stevens and, in more recent years, Adrianne Lenker. It’s funny though, I actually have a really big voice when I want to use it – and at one point was considering pursuing a professional career in opera. We’ll see, I might decide to open up my voice a bit more as the years go by and I continue to develop my style. It won’t be opera, but I’m just excited about experimenting with the way I sing, volume level, vibrato, tone, range, etc.

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

When writing a song, I try my best to write lyrics that could stand alone as a poem. If I’m feeling stuck, I try reading some of my favorite poetry. Mary Oliver, Wendell Berry, and translations of the German poet Rainer Maria Rilke all come to mind.

I’ve always especially loved the work of Mary Oliver. She wrote a lot while walking through the woods and observing the world around her – always practicing looking with as much reverence as she could muster. I try to slow down and notice things like she did. It’s really a practice of awe and amazement – and often with regard to things that appear simple at first glance or that I might take for granted. Or that I just wouldn’t have noticed if I hadn’t waited a little longer and been more patient.

Along with poetry, visual art is another art form that plays a big part in my creative life as a songwriter. Sometimes when I’m experiencing a creative block, I’ll go into a period of just focusing on making really colorful and vibrant abstract visual art. It helps me get out of the self-judgment loop, and I find myself getting back to that kid that’s inside, playing with shapes and color just because it’s fun and not because I hope anyone will think it’s any good. And then I can take that mindset back with me when I return to my songs.

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

I remember singing my song, “To Be Adored,” for a close friend shortly after I had written it. When I looked up after finishing, he was smiling at me ear to ear and had tears streaming down his face. This same thing happened a few other times with other people – and I began to realize that I could really touch others with my music on a deep emotional level. I’ve always loved music with nostalgic and maybe even sad undertones, and so a lot of the music I make has this kind of feeling. The thing is, “sad” music always made me feel kind of… good? From the beginning, I think I knew I wanted to make sounds that could help people heal in some way, or at least serve as a form of comfort. When I started seeing the impact my music was having on people in real time, I knew I wanted to continue writing and sharing – with the hope that I too could be a healer and could help make the world a little more beautiful.

If you didn’t work in music, what would you do instead?

I would probably be a visual artist/art teacher. Making art has always been one of my favorite things to do – and, as I mentioned, it still sometimes plays a role in my creative practice at times. I’m often thinking about bigger paintings, murals, or other visual projects I want to be making, but usually I’m spending my free time playing music these days. I keep thinking about getting into wood block printmaking though and I just ordered some carving tools – albeit with the intention of creating some merch!

I do have a part-time day job assembling and setting up banjos for Pisgah Banjo here in Asheville – but it’s the most music-related day job I’ve ever had. When I’m done setting up a banjo part of my job is playing it to make sure the set up feels good, which I always enjoy. I also do a bit of private music teaching.

What would a perfect day as an artist and creator look like to you?

I usually need a lot of uninterrupted solo time to really get into a creative flow. It’s also super helpful when I can put my computer and phone away for the day and replace them with poetry books and/or nature walks. And as much as I love being out in nature, I must admit I would still want to retain my creature comforts. I’m envisioning waking up in a cozy cabin close to a lake, stream, or river. I’d come to consciousness feeling well-rested, listening to the sounds of insects and birds and the laughter of the water. Maybe it’s raining softly on the roof? But then the sun comes out, and it’s a perfect 75 degree day, breezy. I’d give myself ample time to rest and take breaks throughout the day, swim, exercise, cook, and eat delicious food… sign me up!

Photo Credit: Rita Kovtun

Basic Folk: John Smith

Posted on by Shelby Williamson

Originally from Devon, English singer-songwriter John Smith got his start playing bars and clubs in Liverpool, both with his own songs and as a side player for artists like Lianne La Havas, Lisa Hannigan, and David Gray. Growing up with folk music and guitar music influences from Eric Clapton to Maria Callas to Nick Drake, John’s sensitivity as a player is one of the cornerstones of his music, especially when it comes to his live music. It’s earned him a passionate fanbase ever since his first EP release in 2009.

Host Lizzie No got to witness the connection he shares with audiences on a recent month-long tour around the UK. Everywhere they went together, audience members had stories of how important John’s songs were to them and guitar nerds flocked to have a look at his pedal board.

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Beyond his musicianship, John’s music is imbued with an earnestness that invites listeners to look around and feel gratitude: for nature (especially the vistas of rural England), for the wisdom that memory can provide, and for the people close to us. His latest album, The Living Kind, is a meditation on how delicate love and life can be, but also how enduring. It also showcases the creative partnership between Smith and his longtime friend and roots music industry icon, Joe Henry. One of the album’s highlights is “Milestones,” in which John reflects on how parenthood has changed his perspective on the artist’s life.

Photo Credit: Phil Fisk

Deeper Well Deep Dive

Posted on by Justin Hiltner

Editor’s Note: To celebrate the release of Kacey Musgraves’ Deeper Well, we invited TikTok star, actor, creator, and musician Andi Marie Tillman to guide us on an apropos album ‘Deeper’ dive. Watch her video commentary or enjoy the written version of her thoughts and reactions to the stunning new record below.

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Let’s go on a ride, shall we? I’m about to listen to the Kacey Musgraves album, Deeper Well. I’m hoping that we go so far down this well that we’re gonna get to Wonderland. Let’s see…

“Cardinal”

‘70s all the way!

Okay, right there, Crosby, Stills, & Nash, 100%. All the influences there – the harmonies, the double melody. Even the way it’s mixed, where all the voices kind of sit in that same space.

I love that. That feels so much like “Wooden Ships” in that Crosby, Stills, & Nash era. Such a fresh spin on it, though.

What’s that professional baseball team, the Cardinals? Ain’t there a professional baseball team that’s the Cardinals? Maybe they ought to make this their theme song. Really, this is the way to get chicks into baseball again. I like to think of us all in the Kate Bush “Wuthering Heights” red dress out on the field.

“Deeper Well” 

Now let’s go to the title track, “Deeper Well.”

Love that strumming. I like that sweet refrain. I think that it travels well into the next verse. It seems to set out what the album’s intention is.

It does feel like this title track here, she is trying to communicate, “Hey, I’ve matured. I ain’t all about just the drugs. I ain’t all about getting high and having a good time.”

“Too Good to be True”

Now, shut up if that ain’t a Joni Mitchell little guitar intro right there! That’s like “Little Green” right there, a hundred percent. That’s like a “Ladies of the Canyon” kind of intro. Even the mix!

Now, that to me is quintessential country. When you got a clever line in there, that wordplay. “Be good to me, I’ll be good to you. But please don’t be too good to be true.”

That, to me, is like old school ladies of country, when they’re talking about love, but they’re like, “I’m going to be clever about it. I’m going to pull a Jane Austen on you.”

That right there is a Kacey Musgraves moment. That right there screamed Kacey to me. I almost said “scrumpt.” [Laughs] “Scrampt.” My Appalachian really came out there! But that right there is a Kacey moment, when the drum drops in that second verse. That was huge for Golden Hour. I remember “Slow Burn,” that was huge for “Slow Burn.” You know, she had that open chord and then the drum came in on the second verse. I know a lot of people do that, but it really felt like a Kacey move there. And it feels good too.

Love that harmony there. A lot of those harmonies remind me of Shania’s Come On Over. I don’t know who the guy is that did the background vocals for that, but the “Still the one / still the one I run to / one that I belong to…” the harmony in that is so freaking good. Go back and listen to it, but the harmonies here are tight.

This album makes me want to go buy a lamp. And move into a new house. Like it’s making me want to uproot my whole life and tell my husband we’re moving. We’re moving to California.

“Moving Out”

So something a little bit more straightforward, here. I am expecting a good story, because the instrumentation is kind of simple.

Oh, that hurts me! Okay. So autumn’s moving in and we’re moving out. As you see that, it’s almost like you can feel the transition of the season and she’s got all these vignettes of a marriage, like the resolution of a marriage, the eventual fading away of this relationship. That’s really, really pretty.

I even like how that little guitar whines at the end, an echoing of the haunting.

Kacey! That was campy as shit! Okay, so she even had a little sound effect for “it might be haunted” and you can kind of hear the ghostly echoes in the background. I love a campy moment! Good for you!

Anyone who’s been in a breakup can feel this one. Anyone who’s ever lived with somebody and had to say goodbye knows that that is so painful when you’ve intertwined lives with them. And then you do start to play that back. With every room that you clear out, it’s like you go through each room and your ghosts dance in front of you. I feel like she has set up these beautiful vignettes of a marriage that you get to peek into, like little rooms of a house. Each verse feels like that.

“Giver / Taker”

Nick Drake, where are you son?! We got some Nick Drake here, hon. Oh, I love it. I love all these open chords, sis.

She took Nick Drake, made it country. Just her voice is country. It really is. You gotta remember, she can do a lot of stuff and the essence of her voice has the twang and the pain. And it just sounds country.

Yes, sis! Again, clever. We got clever there. That’s where country comes in. Beautiful.

I like that one. I like that one so much, I can feel myself driving down a country road, windows down with that one. That one’s definitely a summer track. That “Giver / Taker,” it kind of sneaks up on you. I got a lump in my throat, because I remember what it felt like when you first started falling in love with somebody and you were like, “I wanna sop you up like gravy. I wanna sop you up with my biscuit. I’m gonna put my biscuit on you and I’m gonna sop you right up.

I am going to put you into a blender and drink you through a straw.” [Laughs]

“Sway”

That almost feels like horses running with that padding, [that] beat. Ooh, that’s nice. I like the soundscape on that end. And I also like that she’s having a nice vulnerable moment in the middle of the album. Because at the beginning we start out with like, you know, “I’m a big girl now,” but she’s also saying, “There’s some shit I gotta work on.”

“Maybe one day I’ll learn how to sway–” It reminds me of that Tanya Tucker “Strong Enough to Bend” kind of thing.

Can you ever just go with the flow? So she’s admitting, “Hey, I’ve gotten better, but I’m not all there.” And neither am I honestly, neither am I.

“Dinner with Friends”

I hope to god it’s not a song about what podcast they talked about. Hopefully dinner with friends is not, “Hey, how are you trying to optimize your life? What floor plan are y’all using?”

Dinner with my friends is just talking about Tim Curry and the Muppets, so…

[Kacey sings:] “Dinner with friends in cities where none of us live…”

Ooh! I cannot relate at all to this. [Laughs] But that sounds fabulous. I aspire to be the level of rich one day where I’m having dinner with my friends in cities that none of us live in.

[Kacey sings:] “The face somebody makes when you give ‘em a gift…”

Except for the Christmas that my mom bought my husband condoms – expired condoms at that. You should have seen my husband’s face that year. And then he said, “Don’t worry, we’ll put them to good use, Claudia.”

That was a great transition right there into that little chorus. Oh my Lord. You can just feel in that change, her being swept away, once again. You could be independent all day long, but then the right hottie comes along. Did I just write a song? [Laughs]

Yeah, somebody comes along with that body-ody-ody and sweeps you into a whole damn key change, sis.

[Kacey sings:] “Early in June, when the fireflies first start to glow, it never gets old…”

It don’t ever get old. Them lightning bugs, honey, the lightning bugs in June, there ain’t nothing like them. I’m ashamed to say we used to, I hate saying this – We used to pinch the little ends off of them and decorate our faces with them and say that we were, you know, wood nymph princesses.

It was real romantic at the time, now it’s just slaughter.

I love the whinin’ guitar that keeps weaving its way through here. It’s such a great motif, that ethereal cry out there. I love that.

“Heart of the Woods”

Ooh! I think we made it to Wonderland. We’re talking about the communication of trees, the secret life of trees under the ground. There’s a world that cannot be seen. And I think this might be a commentary on us finding out that trees communicate through their roots. They’re talking.

Now I’m anxious, all of a sudden, thinking about the trees talking, conspiring against us behind our backs.

I love the double vocal on so many of these tracks, because it does still hearken back to that canyon era, that Laurel Canyon, the folk singers of the ‘70s. But her voice always seems to bring an element of country to it. Always, her sound is so fresh and modern. I think it’s an interesting take. I like that. It’s kind of hippy-dippy, kind of flowy.

“Heart of the Woods” feels like it’s going on my playlist when I want to start a commune. You know, when I transition into my commune era – which is basically just when I have a kid and I don’t want to take care of it no more. I’m like, “Hey, y’all want to move out to the woods and help me with this shit?”

“Jade Green”

I like that mandolin.

Girl, I feel myself on a black stallion riding through the night. I feel myself topless, on a black stallion. That’s what I feel. And I feel like that moonlight’s just hitting me. It’s just like, my milky bosom through the night and like, maybe I have like a sheer cloth that’s just flowing behind me. [Laughs]

It’s got a real heartbeat to it. We need to put this behind a paywall!

I can really feel that being… that right there is a great drag performance. Somebody can have that.

“The Architect”

I like that this is that simple country songwriting format, so that the point is coming across. This song feels like kind of embracing the mystery. Did somebody do it? Was it here or is it part of some kind of design or not? I think a lot of us ask that question every day.

“Lonely Millionaire”

Sade? Sade? Where are you sis? Sade! I just got transported to a ‘90s Dillard’s. I would like those shoes in cream. Do you got a kitten heel?

That’s so sexy. I’m sending that to my husband right now. That one’s my favorite so far. Honestly. Because that shoots me back to “Lovers Rock,” that’s like a “Lovers Rock” tribute almost. Obviously she always puts her own spin on things, but she is an excellent curator of other pop moments.

“Heaven Is”

What is heaven?

[Kacey sings:] “We spent all day where the north wind blows / And you bought me a lavender rose / Put it in water when we got home / That’s what heaven is…”

This is your Ren Faire song. Honey, grab a turkey leg, because we’re going LARPing. We are LARPing, honey. You know, maybe I’m gonna go LARPing as Kacey at the Ren Faire this year. Grab you a turkey leg and a funnel cake, because we’re about to watch a joust and go make out behind the porta potties.

And, hey, that’s what heaven is to me. Who are you to judge me? Judge ye not. Lest ye be judged.

Listening to this song, I’m ready to give away all my rights and be burned at the stake.

I love that she goes for the romance. I feel like this album is one that you can play if you’re wanting to get hyped up or if you’re just wanting to toot around the house. It’s perfect. It’s perfect for all the occasions. It’s like my one cousin who was a carny that we know can swing both ways, if you know what I’m saying.

“Anime Eyes”

That got cute fast. I’m glad that I kind of get these references, because we just watched a Miyazaki film the other night. It does kind of bring in that sweet, magical element to it.

It’s cute, the song is cute, but also, it’s got a little bit of its own magic to it, too.

That got psychedelic plum quick. But I like it, I like [that] she leaned way into camp on that one.

I’m proud of you.

“Nothing to be Scared Of”

I feel like this puts a nice bow at the end, as the end track, because it’s sweet, we’ve got those tight harmonies returning. It’s the simple design. It’s the simple structure.

Basically, “I’ve got your back. I’ve got you on my mind. Don’t be afraid.” It’s like a peaceful entry to love and I think that that really fits with the whole vibe of the album, of, “I’m going to a mature place. I want to love the right way.”

Honey, I ain’t even been further west than Oklahoma, and this album takes me all the way to Laurel Canyon. I’m just driving through that canyon, got my top down, and I’m hoping not to get stabbed by the Manson family.

The album makes me want to start making dandelion tea. I’ve never thought about doing that in my whole life. But like, I could crush up some dandelions. This shit is bad for me, because I might start asking people for sourdough starters.

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Photo Credit: Kelly Christine Sutton

MIXTAPE: Lowland Hum’s Songs for Dusk

Posted on by Editor

We’ve put together a group of songs that feel related to dusk: the transition moments between day and night. Included in our thinking about dusk are the days in between each season.. winter to spring, spring to summer, summer to fall and fall to winter days. We all need help in our times of transition, as we are being stretched, strained, or pressed between what was and what is to come. The songs that assist us in these travels seem to have an unplaceable quality, both disorienting and comforting like a sweet, warm drink with salt scattered on its surface.

The unique combination of anticipation and farewell allows these songs to occupy paradoxical thematic and sonic space. We need songs like these so we can bring more of ourselves into the present. So, we humbly offer this grouping of songs to accompany you in transitions of all kinds, whether they be literal dusks, the days between seasons, or simply moments where this particular tone may be soothing, cathartic, comforting or augmenting. To paraphrase something we read on The Milk Carton Kids’ Mixtape… “we include our songs aspirationally and for self-promotion here.” — Lowland Hum 

Aldous Harding – “Zoo Eyes”

We love Aldous Harding’s ability to shapeshift, morph, and play in her music while remaining vulnerable and human. It reminds us that those are all options we can choose as well when creating. Her most recent album, Designer, is delicious.

Bob Dylan – “He Was a Friend of Mine”

This song has always stood out to us as a deeply compassionate and humanizing song that packs so much into its few and deceptively simple words. It reminds me of the wordlessness that comes with deep grief. At the anniversary of George Floyd’s death I think of the great losses our nation has experienced this year and the way all words felt clumsy and insufficiently small in the face of such dumbfounding, dark and evil things.

Big Thief – “Open Desert”

We’re having a hard time finding what’s not to like about anything and everything coming from Adrianne Lenker (and her band) these days.

The Beatles – “Julia”

This melody is so wistful, dreamlike, sad, and lovely. “When I cannot sing my heart I can only speak my mind, Julia, sleeping sand, silent cloud, touch me so I sing a song of love, Julia.”

Radiohead – “You and Whose Army?”

The beginning of this song makes us feel like we are suspended in shimmering stardust thick enough to hold a person’s weight. The arrangement blooms so patiently until you suddenly tumble down a flight of stairs. That a recording can do that is one of the main reasons we organize our life around music.

Antonio Carlos Jobim – “Look to the Sky”

I mean, are you not slow dancing by yourself on a terra cotta tile patio, barefoot, with a cocktail in hand when you hear this?

Labi Siffre – “Cannock Chase”

The combination of this picked guitar and gently shuffling percussion sounds like being in the car at dusk with the windows down, scenery flying by.

The Zombies – “Beechwood Park”

We’ve listened to this album so much in the past few years, but somehow only really noticed this song and its magnificence in the past week. Now we are obsessed.

Nick Drake – “Free Ride”

To us Nick Drake always sounds like sunlight filtering through the leaves of trees. Although this one carries a bit more urgency and pep than some of his other songs, this one is no exception.

Myriam Gendron – “Solace”

This song comes from an album of Dorothy Parker poems put to music by Myriam Gendron. The whole album is like a friend sitting silently beside you when you’re feeling a lot. You probably need it in your life.

Keur Mossa – “Quand le fils de l’homme viendra”

This song comes from an album that has been an immense comfort to us in times of transition. When far from home, while working on building our studio in early morning light, while in labor with our first child… It’s a beautiful treasure of humanity reaching toward divinity.

Tiny Ruins – “One Million Flowers (solo)”

This album is all solo guitar and voice versions of Tiny Ruins’ full-band album Olympic Girls. Hearing these songs stripped to their skeletons showcases how strong her songwriting and voice are. Though we were fans of the full-band album first, we prefer these versions hands down. We aspire to make songs that can stand on their own naked or dressed up.

Lowland Hum –”We Do What We’re Told (Milgram’s 37)”

This is our cover of Peter Gabriel’s “We Do What We’re Told (Milgram’s 37)” from his album, So. We covered that album in its entirety, calling our version So Low. Our version came out on the 35th anniversary of the original’s release.

Lou Reed – “Perfect Day”

This song is a cocktail of equal parts bummed-out and triumphant. How he does it we don’t know, but we love it.

Frank Sinatra – “Mood Indigo”

The strings and reeds in this song are like sitting on a fire escape in the warm balmy breeze of a summer evening. Sinatra’s delivery is so subtle and masterful. You can’t go wrong with any song on In the Wee Small Hours.

The Weather Station – “Trust”

We have long been fans of Tamara Lindeman. Her songwriting is like a window into the unspoken dialogue of real relationships.

Arthur Russell – “Close My Eyes”

This song is so visual to me (Lauren). It reads in the mind like a bedtime story complete with dark oil pastel illustrations. I dare you to close your eyes and not see it all.

Gold Connections –”Confession”

Will Marsh of Gold Connections is a dear friend of ours but we promise we aren’t biased. They just released this single and we can’t get enough of it. This song has it all: city and desert; neon signage and the kind of starry sky that can only be seen when you are far from civilization.

Bruce Springsteen – “Nebraska”

Tragic, startling, beautiful. Daniel always says he believes in this album because it gave him compassion for a mass murderer. That’s some power right there.

Paul Simon – “Night Game”

What a stunning and mournful number. Who knew a song about baseball could feel so mystical? Hold out for the otherworldly harmonica solo by Jean-Baptiste Frédéric Isidor. This one has comforted us on many a late-night drive.

Adrianne Lenker – “forwards beckon rebound”

This whole album is a treasure. This song has such a great momentum while remaining quiet.

Martin Denny – “Trade Winds”

This exotica album is a staple in our household during our newborn son’s bathtimes. But we find it perfectly appropriate for listeners of all ages and stages. It is perfectly campy and yet transportive.

Lowland Hum – “Waite”

We felt that we needed to include at least one original Lowland Hum song, so here’s our duskiest. This song was written while on tour in Europe in 2017. We were playing a house concert in a landscape painter’s home studio and gallery (Andy Waite is the name of the painter and now friend) and the guitar part mysteriously came to Daniel while we were setting up in the space. Something about being in a home so steeped in one person’s creative life and flow was magical. There was a very real substance in the air that mysteriously found its way into Daniel’s fingertips as he was messing around on guitar.

Photo credit: Tristan Williams

BGS 5+5: Lydia Luce

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Artist name: Lydia Luce
Hometown: Nashville, Tennessee
Latest Album: Dark River

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

When I was in high school I was chosen to be in the Honor Orchestra of America… yes I was an orchestra nerd through and through. We got to perform with Christopher O’Reilly and had Benjamin Zander as a conductor. I was really into Radiohead and Christopher O’Reilly had just released his album of Radiohead covers for solo piano. He performed a few of the songs during our break and I was floored. I had a glimpse of these two worlds coming together, classical and popular music, and that really intrigued me. This was one of the moments I knew I wanted to continue to pursue music. Either that or when my mom took me to see Hilary Hahn play the Barber Violin Concerto in New York.

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

Dance is a big influence. I grew up dancing and it is still a big part of my life. Since moving to Nashville I have taken contemporary ballet, West African dance, and salsa dancing classes. I think about the movement of the songs when I write and ask myself how I would move to this song. For the music video of “Maybe in Time” I got to try out choreographing for the first time.

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

I grew up by the ocean, but I am now landlocked in Nashville. I spend most of my time in nature on hikes or kayaking here in Nashville. We have so many beautiful waterfalls about an hour outside of the city. One of my favorite things to do is go on solo camping and hiking trips. I find this time is helpful for going in deep with myself. Dark River is the spawn of some beautiful solo adventures.

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

Oh I like this question… “Pink Moon” by Nick Drake and pad thai. “I Was an Eagle” by Laura Marling and butternut squash soup with a big ole hunk of sourdough bread.

What rituals do you have, either in the studio or before a show?

My rituals pre-show have become driven by vocal health. I started getting very serious about my vocal health in 2019 before going on a two month long European tour with shows almost every night. Before each show I do a warm up for about 8-10 minutes and use a portable steam inhaler. I started working with a vocal coach who taught me so much about keeping my mind and body healthy on tour. My little ritual has become so meditative for me because I seek out the most quiet place and have this moment of stillness all to myself.

Photo credit: Alysse Gafjken

LISTEN: Ben Harper & Rhiannon Giddens, “Black Eyed Dog”

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Artists: Ben Harper and Rhiannon Giddens
Single: “Black Eyed Dog” (by Nick Drake)
Release Date: July 21, 2020
Record Label: ANTI-

In Their Words: “Rhiannon and I are both black purveyors of American roots music, and while this is not an anomaly, it is an exception within a subculture. We have unquestionably tapped into the same creative well of influence, carrying on the tradition through our own individual instincts and perspectives. … I’ve always wanted to cover ‘Black Eyed Dog,’ but the song was intimidating in its haunted perfection. Only through collaborating with Rhiannon would I have ever attempted it. When I step back from it, this collaboration should’ve happened long ago, but I’m thrilled that it’s finally here.” — Ben Harper

“I’ve been hearing and hearing about Ben Harper for a long time, but had never gotten to meet him until recently at an event in LA and I was immediately struck by a kindred spirit. Didn’t have as much to do with the kind of music we play, although we share many, many commonalities as black folk playing roots music, but more to do with the spirit that we access when we play it. I felt that spirit in him right off and knew if we ever got the chance, we could make something beautiful together.” — Rhiannon Giddens

Photo of Ben Harper: courtesy of the artist.
Photo of Rhiannon Giddens: Ebru Yildiz

BGS 5+5: Joshua Radin

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Artist: Joshua Radin
Hometown: Cleveland, Ohio
Latest albums: Here, Right Now (LP) and Acoustic From Sunset Sound (EP)

Which artist has influenced you the most … and how?

I have no idea how to answer that. There are way too many to choose, and not just musicians. But to name a few, Bob Dylan, Paul Simon, Tom Petty, Elliott Smith, Nick Drake, Paul Cezanne, Henry Miller, J.D. Salinger, Dostoyevsky, Hesse, Picasso, Tolstoy …

What’s your favorite memory from being on stage?

The first time I headlined and sold out the Bowery Ballroom in New York City. I had lived in NY for years and that was my favorite spot to see music. So when I finally decided, later in life, to start playing and writing music, being on the other side of that stage was magical.

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

Hmm, that’s a good question. I’d have to say that this happens very frequently. And nine times out of ten, I’ll end up scrapping the song because if it seems like too much effort, I always feel like it wasn’t meant to be written.

What rituals do you have, either in the studio or before a show?

I have so many on tour. And at home. But on tour, I wake up on the bus, Google “best coffee near me” and start my day from there. Then I’ll usually walk around the city snapping photos, stumbling down streets without a plan. Everything on tour is planned out once I’m at soundcheck that day, so before that, I like to experience as much spontaneity as I can.

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

Another great question! Especially because when I’m out on the road, ninety percent of what I think about is where I’m going to eat my next meal… tough to decide but maybe — eating Prince St. Pizza in New York on a stoop, while Bob Dylan busks on the street for change with an open guitar case on the sidewalk.

Photo credit: Shervin Lainez

Devendra Banhart Finds His ‘Ma’ Muse on Both Sides of the Pacific

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On Ma, the new album by folk-globalist Devendra Banhart, there are appearances by singer-songwriter Cate Le Bon and 1970s English folk-rock cult heroine Vashti Bunyan. Lyrics reference his love for Brazilian stars Chico Barque and Caetano Veloso as well as Japanese electro-art-pop pioneer Haruomi Hosono. And no less than Carole King is a presence in a co-write nod via lyrics drawn from “So Far Away.”

But when it comes to guest stars on the album, there’s one that’s hard to top: the Pacific Ocean.

Yup. That noted body of water is credited, fittingly, for “ocean sounds” on the song “October 12.” It’s a song of grief after the death of a friend, and Banhart, who spent much of his youth in Venezuela, his mother’s native country, sings it in Spanish.

“Actually, on every track there is the ocean,” he says, freshly landed at home in Los Angeles after flying across that very ocean from Singapore. “You don’t really hear it, but it is throughout the whole record. What inspired us to do that in the beginning, we recorded in a Buddhist temple in Kyoto with no walls. It is open to a garden. We wanted to create that feel on the album.”

Working with his longtime producer Noah Georgeson and several of his regular musical cohorts, Banhart was invited to record in that temple for just one hour, after a brief Asian tour. The experience was something they wanted to extend through the whole of the album, which they later accomplished by recording in a studio in a house along the Northern California coastline.

“You could hear the Pacific,” he says. “We had the windows open. That’s the big support system for the songs.”

It’s a nurturing presence, even in its most subtle ambience, it being the primal source of life. And as such, it represents the life-giving concept at the heart of the album: motherhood.

“Maternity is the theme,” he says.

There’s more than that here, of course. There is grief in songs such as “Memorial,” about his father, with temple bells mixed in the music, and “The Lost Coast,” about death and loss. The magic of serendipity permeates the album, as does the state of being open to what the world offers. None of the songs are explicitly about motherhood, per se. The notion, in many poetic manifestations, ties it together.

“There’s the relationship one has with a country,” he says, distressed about devastating political and economic strife of the nation in which he was nurtured. “Venezuela has been a constant issue on this record. Moments before now I was talking with my family and reading about what is going on there. It’s a truly apocalyptic situation. My way of writing about it is so related to my mother. At this point I can’t separate my own mother from Venezuela.”

His mother is not currently living there and the last time he visited was two years ago, but he has aunts and uncles and cousins who are there, seeing their country and its people suffer greatly. For him, it’s hard to separate that situation, with which he has such a deep personal relationship, from suffering elsewhere, whether from his own roots or in places where he has spent considerable time (Nepal and Tibet, among them) or that he has merely seen on the news.

“There is the insane suffering of the Venezuelan people, the political madness of the situation in the U.S., Duterte in the Philippines, China and Tibet suffering so much, and the people in Hong Kong.” Banhart seeks solace in the connections he’s made through music, “There’s music and art as the parent-and-child relationship. I turn to music to be consoled, to be less alone, to feel loved and nurtured.”

In that regard, few are more significant to him than Vashti Bunyan. The English singer came from the same folk-rock scene that gave us Fairport Convention, Nick Drake, and the Incredible String Band. Her 1970 album, Just Another Diamond Day, languished in obscurity until the late 1990s when it was “discovered” by musicians in a nascent movement that came to be called freak-folk, a young Banhart among its numbers. That brought about the album’s reissue, and various new recording projects, some involving Banhart. Now in her mid-70s, Bunyan sings with him here on the album’s closing “Will I See You Tonight?”

“Within that maternal theme, I don’t think anyone in my life encapsulates the archetype of the wisdom of artists as much as Vashti does, in terms of that nurturing quality of music,” he admits.

Banhart also seeks to make, or embrace, connections in music itself, some coming quite by surprise. This album is threaded with inspirations from and references to music from many lands and cultures, often connecting in ways wondrous, delightful, and serendipitous. Rarely is any of that planned — at least consciously.

“Sometimes the lyrics come first,” he says. “The music is a platform for the lyrics. As you start, as the song starts to take shape, there’s some collaborative element with other musicians, but also with the song itself, in that way. I don’t mean to be oblique, but it’s this strange way that it takes you in these certain directions. It’s out of your hands.

Sometimes it’s easy, he says, as in the song “Carolina,” which cites an earlier song that has influenced him.

“It’s a song for a song, a song written for the song ‘Carolina’ by Chico Barque,” he says. “It’s an homage to Brazilian music and South American music. There’s a samba feel to it, and me really singing about wanting to hear that song and saying I should probably learn Portuguese someday. In those lyrics it was easy to see the shape of that music.”

Others have more convoluted paths, but in them reveal the global pathways he has so openly relished in his music and in his life.

“In some songs I was quite surprised what was coming out.”

“Kantori Ongaku” offered several such surprises. In the chorus, sung in Japanese, he uses words from a song by Hosono, one of the founders of Japan’s landmark trio Yellow Magic Orchestra. At one point in the cited lyrics, Hosono sings, in English, the words “country music.” That planted some ideas for Banhart as he wrote his song although he wished to sidestep literalism.

“I wanted to do a Buck Owens thing here but that wouldn’t work out,” he says. “J.J. Cale was a great hero of mine so I took J.J. Cale as inspiration, not literally, but that kind of platform emerged for the song. Those things aren’t really done consciously. There are people who are inspirations I’ve been listening to for so long that it enters into the music, naturally.”

In some ways, Ma is a culmination of Banhart’s past work in a career from the two shambling albums he released in 2002 through 2016’s ambling Ape in Pink Marble that’s seen him go from neo-hippie troubadour to bossa nova evangelist, from playful folkiness to, well, playful electro-pop. He’s been a part of collaborations with kindred spirits from Beck to Brazilian tropicalia great Gilberto Gil, with whom he shared the Hollywood Bowl stage one highly memorable evening, to the Strokes’ Fabrizio Moretti to Antony and the Johnsons.

Yet the range and depth of Ma extends beyond even that, particularly in its emotions, the sense of loss in some songs not just complementing the joy in others, but expanding upon it in ways that truly honor the maternal wonder of the world.

How to make that work? How to bring all that together so naturally?

Well, now we get to the other concept of Ma. Yes, the title is a word generally associated with mothers. Banhart’s use of it comes from something else.

“The word ma is actually born from a different meaning,” he says. “It’s a philosophical term for space in Japanese. Starting the record in Kyoto, that’s where I learned the word. I’ve always failed but have strived to get a type of space in the music. How do you create spaciousness in music? Ma is a term of how essential it is to an object, and in music the space between the notes is essential. I really got into that word, and it also happened to be the perfect word for the theme of the album.”

Photo Credit: Lauren Dukoff

MIXTAPE: Joseph’s Night Drive

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All three of us went to college in Seattle at a school tucked between Fremont and Queen Anne. At the time, pre-Amazon, we knew the city best for its bridges and sailor vibes and constant grey blanket of melancholy. When you’re driving around at night on top of Queen Anne Hill, thinking about your unrequited love (just me?) the city views of blinking lights are spectacular and the LiveJournal entry is brewing in your mind. These are the songs you’re listening to. – Joseph (Natalie Schepman, Allison and Meegan Closner)

Nick Drake – “From the Morning”

I chose the song with “morning” in the title as the first track of this Night Drive mixtape. Sequence is very important in a mix for a night drive. The first verse says “A day once dawned from the ground / Then the night she fell.” It sets the stage and delivers the opening monologue. — Natalie

Laura Veirs – “When You Give You Give Your Heart”

One of my favorite songwriters:

“My stampeding buffalo
Stops in her tracks and watches the snow
Falling through the old oak tree
When you give your heart to me.” — Natalie

Blanco White – “Ollala”

I found this song on a curated Spotify playlist and I haven’t been able to stop listening to it. It’s become one of my partner’s and my favorite songs to listen to together. — Allie

Fleetwood Mac – “Sara”

My friend showed me this song and told me her Mom used to sing it to her as a kid while she was tucking her into bed. I’ve never been able to shake that childhood movie moment when I hear this song. I listen to it as though that were my own comforting memory. — Meegan

Iron & Wine – “Naked as We Came”

This is a mood, isn’t it? I bet anyone who loved this song gets taken back to where they listened to it. It’s the quintessential Night Drive feeling. — Natalie

John Moreland – “Hang Me in the Tulsa County Stars”

This song means 1,000 things to me, but mostly it’s always felt like coming home. In a lot of uncertain times I returned to this song over and over again to ground me. — Meegan

Death Cab for Cutie – “A Lack of Color”

When I was first curious about how to write songs, Death Cab was big for me. He starts the song with “and” like you’re already in a conversation and that wowed me. — Natalie

Bob Dylan – “Don’t Think Twice, It’s All Right”

I heard this song later on in life (within the last year) and fell in love with Bob Dylan’s voice. I know… took me a minute. I love the tongue-in-cheek feel of it and it has given me many special listening moments. — Allie

Sufjan Stevens – “Casimir Pulaski Day”

Sufjan. Mind blowing for me. I’m amazed by his matter-of-fact, deadpan delivery while singing about scenes that combine the horror of cancer right next to “the complications you could do without when I kissed you on the mouth.” It feels like acceptance. It’s devastating but it feels true in my chest. — Natalie

Nickel Creek – “Sabra Girl”

I listened to this song in headphones every night as I fell asleep in my dorm room freshman year. The acoustic guitar, the mandolin, the violin, Sara’s voice. Perfect. — Natalie

Photo credit: Louis Browne