Chris Thile Considers His Community and Christian Upbringing in ‘Laysongs’ (1 of 2)

For a while, Chris Thile might have been the busiest man in bluegrass. The former public radio host has snagged four Grammy awards and a prestigious MacArthur “Genius Grant,” all the while maintaining his status as a founding member of Punch Brothers, the Goat Rodeo Sessions, and Nickel Creek, collaborating with plenty of other Americana firebrands along the way. But on his latest album, Laysongs, Thile slowed down.

A solo album in the truest sense — it’s just Thile and a mandolin, after all — the album was recorded by engineer Jody Elff at Future-Past, a studio housed in an old church in Hudson, New York. The setting was a perfect match for the religion-influenced album, which ranges from the biblical passages of Thile’s Christian upbringing to mythological ideas about gods and gathering from the Greeks and the Romans. Below, in the first of a two-part interview, BGS caught up with Thile about recording the new album, finding inspiration in memories from his adolescence, and the dearly missed joy of a packed concert hall.

BGS: You recorded this album in a church in upstate New York. What did that atmosphere lend to the album, whether purely sonically to the recording or more generally as inspiration?

Thile: That was such a stroke of luck in a time that felt like it was a little thin on luck overall. [Laughs] We were weathering the earlier stages of the pandemic in Hudson, New York, and someone told me about a church right in the middle of town that had been converted into a studio. I went and checked it out and played a few notes in there and absolutely loved it. It’s not the most awe-inspiring church, but there were stain-glassed windows and very odd paintings that all brought me right back to my childhood.

I never attended a grand, elegant church growing up. This was still a beautiful church, but it was helpful that it wasn’t, y’know, St. Patrick’s in downtown New York — that it had a whole lot of that whole human-beings-just-trying-to-do-the-best-with-what-they-have kind of a vibe. Getting to be there was really helpful in terms of getting into character for the songs that I was recording. So much of the record comes from solitude… Actually, the solitude of the pandemic felt a lot like the solitude of spending one’s adolescence in a church pew.

What do you mean by that?

I spent so much of my adolescent time in church wondering if I was the only person there who was doubting the existence of God, or who couldn’t not think about how attractive the girl two pews over was. “Wait, I’m going to hell now probably, right?” Or, “Wait, is there hell? What is going on?” The pandemic thrust me and a lot of other people that I know back into that sort of lonesome, existential monologue: “Has every single choice I’ve made up to this point been wrong, perhaps?”

The sort of strange dialogue that we have with ourselves late at night started reminding me of those weird dialogues I would have with myself in church. I could well imagine at 16 years old sitting in this pew at Christian Community Church in Kentucky. I could well imagine there was a little angel and devil on my shoulder kind of duking it out. The centerpiece of the record, “Salt (in the Wounds) of the Earth” is very much a grown-up version of that feeling—but you know, also, how grown-up, really? I’m 40 now, and so much of the time, this felt like a rebirth right back into adolescence, smack in the middle of the most awkward period of our lives.

I loved being in that church for all those reasons. It was so easy to put myself in the headspace I was in when I had written the lyrics or when I discovered the power of those songs that I didn’t write that are on the record. It just lent a certain weight to those performances.

Why did it feel like the right time to approach religion specifically here? Was there anything you felt you had to tread carefully around?

If there’s a silver lining of this whole incredibly disorienting and distressing affair, it’s the chance to gain a little context: to have been forced to take a massive step back and to take a look at our lives, whether we wanted to or not. One of the things I saw, in the midst of missing the community that I’d inserted myself into, was that community often ends up acting in ways that are similar to my experience of organized religion.

How so?

A lot of people who grow up with religion and veer away from it at a certain point are veering away from what they — what we — perceive to be a poisonous exclusivity, or habitual exclusionism. I think that’s one of the main turn-offs for my generation on organized religion. You start meeting people who aren’t welcome in the flock, and you start wondering why. Having taken a step back, I see the same kind of exclusionary behavior in my current community. If you take a look at your own community, it’s probably full of people who think a lot like you do, and who feel very similar to the way that you do about whatever’s going on right now, and who live in a very similar way. I worry that we, as human beings, are trading one messed-up thing for another messed-up thing.

I adore community. I love it so, so much. For instance, the Telluride Bluegrass Festival: I feel like those are the high holy days of my acoustic music-making community, and to be deprived of them is so painful. You feel cast adrift, untethered. I can’t wait to get back and I’ll never take that for granted again. But I also want to go back there with my eyes wide open as to whom I have habitually not welcomed into that community. What barriers am I being a part of unknowingly placing between people and that community that I love so much? And what harm is that doing that community?

Tell me about how that harm appears on the record.

There’s a lot in the record about coming together, but there’s also a lot in the record about our compulsive need to compare ourselves favorably to other people. In an effort to feel better about ourselves, we look for someone to feel better than. That’s what “Salt (in the Wounds) of the Earth” is about. I took a look at this thing that had been a big deal for me in my adolescence, The Screwtape Letters by C.S. Lewis, and I was wondering: What would those demons be up to with me, right now? They would be preying on this compulsive desire to feel good about myself. One of the easiest, dirtiest ways to feel better about yourself is by looking at someone else and going, “Well, I’m better than that guy.”

In “Laysong,” the lyrics mention “drown[ing] out the enemy.” It made me wonder what it is that you consider the enemy — maybe it’s this comparison trap, maybe not — and how you drown it out.

When I wrote that lyric, the enemy was he or they that would talk loudest regardless of whether they had the best idea. “I’m gonna say whatever I have to say louder than anyone is saying anything else, and therefore it will be all that’s heard, and the discussion will be on my terms.” That felt like the enemy. And at that moment, in that lyric, I had to write it. It fit with the shape of the melody. The idea of drowning out the enemy — I couldn’t shake it, even though it’s not what I believe to be right. [Laughs] Hopefully you can get a sense of that in the performance, that it’s coming from an angry and not altogether balanced place. In that moment, I was pursuing the idea of drowning out the enemy with beauty, with restructuring, with anything, really. Let’s get a love song, let’s get a hard-times song, anything but a song about the front page of the newspaper.

The record starts there and ends with the Hazel Dickens song, “Won’t you come and sing for me.” When I get back into the concert hall, there’s no way I’m not ending my solo set with that song, the performance is going to be sincere—especially at the end of all this solitary music-making. [Laughs] But “Laysong” is very much like an altar call for the record. “Here’s what we’re gonna discuss.” Who knows where we’re gonna come out? I know that when I listen to a record, there’s a collaboration that starts there. I would love to imagine that happens when people listen to my records, too—that it starts a conversation. I can’t wait to feel that in the concert hall. No piece of music is done until you [the audience] hear it. And I am so dearly looking forward to that completion of this little bit of work.

Editor’s Note: Read the second half of the BGS Artist of the Month interview with Chris Thile.


Photos: Josh Goleman

Artist of the Month: Chris Thile

Chris Thile found solace during the pandemic in a church — more specifically, a remodeled one that now houses Future-Past recording studio in Hudson, New York, where he and his family were temporarily living in the summer of 2020. “I went in there to look at the space and instantly felt so at home,” Thile said upon announcing his new album, Laysongs. “I loved the amount of sound around the sound. I had two sonic collaborators on this record: the tremendous engineer Jody Elff and that church.”

With a suggestion from Nonesuch Records’ Chairman Emeritus Bob Hurwitz to make a record that was both spiritual and a snapshot of the pandemic, Thile decided to pursue the idea, putting together six originals and three covers with only his voice and his mandolin. In April, he introduced the project with the lead single, “Laysong.” As he noted, “It is a lifelong obsession of mine, even post-Christianity, what the impact of that kind of devotion to any organized religion is.”

Laysongs offers the three-part “Salt (in the Wounds) of the Earth,” which was inspired by C.S. Lewis’s The Screwtape Letters; a song Thile wrote about Dionysus; a performance of the fourth movement of Béla Bartók’s Sonata for Solo Violin; “God Is Alive, Magic Is Afoot” based on Buffy Sainte-Marie’s adaptation of a Leonard Cohen poem; a cover of bluegrass legend Hazel Dickens’ “Won’t You Come and Sing for Me;” and an original instrumental loosely modeled after the Prelude from J.S. Bach’s Partita for Solo Violin in E Major. Thile’s wife, actor Claire Coffee, serves as co-producer.

It’s the latest creative endeavor from the MacArthur Fellow, whose exceptional career spans far beyond his solo work. From Nickel Creek and Punch Brothers to a pair of Goat Rodeo albums and the much-missed Live From Here series, Thile remains one of acoustic music’s most visible figures. You can read part one of our Artist of the Month interview here. Read part two here. Meanwhile, enjoy our BGS Essentials playlist, a tip-of-the-iceberg hint at the remarkable breadth of this masterful musician.


Photo credit: Josh Goleman

With Day Jobs on Hold, These Acoustic Musicians Go Solo (Sort Of)

The widespread shuttering of the music industry during coronavirus has given many musicians, bands, and artists the opportunity to inspect and reconfigure their priorities. In the many months since COVID-19 was declared a pandemic, this phenomenon has been well-documented in writing about music — music released as a result of the coronavirus or released in its all-eclipsing shadow, both. Artists have altered so many of the ways they interact with and create music and watching creatives respond to this worldwide cataclysm has been all at once entrancing and existential. 

Especially in instrumental music. Especially in instrumental music made in the off time — away from the “day job,” the main gig, or perhaps, again the off time afforded by COVID. In the gaps, where life allows, acoustic musicians in bluegrass, Americana, and old-time have been exploring the existential questions brought about by the pandemic — and also often by parenthood, by identity, by health and well being, or simply by the pursuit of self — in endlessly fascinating musical endeavors.

Andrew Marlin, co-frontperson of longtime Americana string duo Watchhouse (formerly known as Mandolin Orange) released not one but two albums of such endeavors this year, ostensible results of introspection of his role as a father, fighting-while-resigning-to the day-to-day beauties and fears within fatherhood. There’s a bleak, beautiful nakedness to “The Jaybird,” off Fable & Fire, an age-old sounding fiddle tune with sleek, modern simplicities that seem to indicate the gorgeousness possible from being still, watching, waiting, and listening. 

On Witching Hour, “Too Hot To Move” isn’t a barn burner, it’s a Musgraves-level slow burn; a tepid, mosquito-laden, languid afternoon on a back porch, the air thick with humidity. Again, striking in its display of the delectable everyday, in not just occupying the same place with the same people daily, but inhabiting that place with intention. Marlin’s backing band of Clint Mullican (bass), Josh Oliver (guitar, piano, and more), Jordan Tice (guitar, bouzouki), and Christian Sedelmeyer (fiddle) is largely consistent between the projects as well, reiterating this point.

Sara Watkins, known for many a “main gig” — whether that be Watkins Family Hour, Nickel Creek, or I’m With Her — released another fantastic solo offering, built on many of the same tenets evident in Marlin’s recordings. Under the Pepper Tree, whose title track is the album’s sole instrumental, is a whimsical, winking collection of near-lullabies and other ageless classics rendered as only Watkins could, with pop underpinnings and gloss, but a worn, charming patina of bluegrass and Americana via the American Songbook and its associated canon. 

“Under the Pepper Tree” listens like a fiddled campfire coda to a day on the trail; or, similarly, as if a goodnight to Watkins’ young daughter, after returning from tour. While the album as a whole carries the movement and adventure of the Wild West, as well as theatre and cinema and gaiety, its sense of place — of rootedness — is remarkable, especially in “Under the Pepper Tree,” oozing of lessons learned and intentions made underneath its boughs through pandemic isolation. 

Continuing on fiddle, Mike Barnett’s non-Ricky Skaggs & Kentucky Thunder project released in 2020, +1, feels like somewhat familiar territory, a collection of duets with friends and musical compatriots that stretches out purposefully and athletically from his tours with the Country Music Hall of Famer (who also appears on the album). “Piece O’ Shrimp,” with guest Alex Hargreaves on twin fiddle, is wonky, newgrassy, orchestral, and sly with old-time baked in and a dash of Darol Anger & Mike Marshall’s duet work. 

The poetry in the tune, and the entire project really, came from a health-related pausing of a different kind, though. While the rest of us felt the world halt due to the coronavirus, Barnett’s record release, as well as his performing career, were unexpectedly paused when Barnett suffered a cerebral hemorrhage in July 2020. This collection of songs gains an entirely new meaning, not only in the context of COVID-19, but also as a waypoint on Barnett’s journey through music, his recovery, and his eventual return to playing. Still in in-patient rehabilitation and therapy, Barnett posted an update via GoFundMe (support here) in February 2021 that closed, “…A full recovery is possible and likely!” 

Finally, to conclude our foray into solo instrumental explorations, Sam Armstrong-Zickefoose, multi-instrumentalist and songwriter of Meadow Mountain, considers ideas of place, identity, and belonging on his upcoming crowdfunded release, Spark in Your Smile. Decidedly forsaking tradition-adjacency, perhaps more than might be expected if a listener’s entry point is Meadow Mountain, the album is a testament to Armstrong-Zickefoose’s commitment to community building; he’s utilizing music and creative expression for that purpose. The expansive quality of the project’s lack of genre conjures joy first and foremost, especially on “Mona,” and globe-crossing communities as a near second, each instrument, texture, and tone evidence of what’s possible when roots music allows folks to be and to belong. A priority high on everyone’s list, but especially queer folks in bluegrass, old-time, and Americana like Armstrong-Zickefoose.

As touring bands return to the road, it will continue to be fascinating to watch musicians navigate the reconfiguration of their priorities — and how they will continue to carve out the time to express themselves, instrumentally and otherwise, while life, and the music industry, charges on ahead.


Photo credit: Sara Watkins by Jacob Boll; Andrew Marlin by Lindsey Rome.

WATCH: Nickel Creek Return to “Helena” for Their Livecreek Experience

Of all the good news that has come out of 2021 so far, none might be sweeter than the news that Nickel Creek has been re-joining forces to write and perform music again. On the final two Sundays of February, the band hosted two livestream concert events called “Nickel Stream: A Livecreek Experience” via Mandolin.com.

Not missing a step or forgetting a lyric, the trio’s performances were immaculate and reminded audiences why Nickel Creek is a special band. In this video of “Helena,” they exercise the signature spice that has always marked their music, taking their listeners on a journey that grows and evolves until its frenzied end. Sara and Sean Watkins together with Chris Thile effortlessly create beautiful, entrancing music, no matter the context and to hear fresh renditions of some of Nickel Creek’s beloved material is welcome anytime here at BGS.


 

The BGS Radio Hour – Episode 205

Welcome to the BGS Radio Hour! Since 2017, this weekly radio show and podcast has been a recap of all the great music, new and old, featured on the digital pages of BGS. This week, we bring you new music from Sara Watkins featuring her old bandmates from Nickel Creek, newly released tracks from Shakey Graves’ archive, and so much more! Remember to check back every Tuesday for a new episode of the BGS Radio Hour.

APPLE PODCASTS, SPOTIFY

Sara Watkins (feat. Nickel Creek) – “Blue Shadows on the Trail”

Sara Watkins recently sat down with BGS to talk about the set of film classics that defined her childhood, and are featured on her new album. With songs like “Pure Imagination” and “Moon River,” this album isn’t just for kids, even if it was first imagined as a collection of lullabies. Instead, it’s a meditative look at these songs which have impacted more than just one generation. And who could forget this classic from the 1980s classic comedy Three Amigos?

The Ladles – “Pages”

Here’s a song about the experience of reading through an old journal and being confronted with your past self — not a particularly comfortable experience. However, for Katie Martucci of The Ladles, it’s a reminder that at any given moment, we only know what we know, and we’re all doing the best we can.

The Antlers – “Porchlight”

“Porchlight” is about a powerful partnership, “knowing somebody so well as to recognize when they’re lost, and helping them find their way back home.”

Andrew Adkins – “This Old Knife”

When asked to be a part of a tribute album to singer-songwriter John Lilly, Andrew Adkins knew exactly what song he wanted to sing: one that he’d had a remarkably personal connection to the first time he heard it.

Shakey Graves – “Roll the Bones”

It’s hard to believe that Shakey Graves’ debut album Roll the Bones came out 10 years ago. Since the album’s quiet 2011 release, he’s emerged from the shadows, releasing multiple albums and garnering a substantial following. In celebration of the decade since, Shakey brings us Roll the Bones 10, a deluxe edition which also features 15 unheard songs from the same era as the original album.

Bridget Rian – “Trailer Park Cemetery”

Inspired by a trailer park cemetery seen while driving through Florida, this song is more a commentary on life than it is death. Bridget Rian says she has a “fear of being forgotten, of not making a difference” with her life – and this song was a mode of expressing this fear.

Jason Davis (feat. Dan Tyminski) – “Modern Day Jezebel”

Dan Tyminski sings lead and plays guitar on this tasty modern bluegrass tune from Jason Davis.

Peggy Seeger – “Gotta Get Home By Midnight”

Folk legend Peggy Seeger is our Artist of the Month for April here at BGS, and we’re so grateful to have been able to speak with her on her new album First Farewell, her lifelong career in folk music, her hopes for social justice and peace, and much more.

Garrison, Gordy, Hargreaves, Walsh – “Sports”

Bluegrass instrumental supergroup Garrison, Gordy, Hargreaves, Walsh have set their fun, rollicking instrumental tune “Sports” to a zany, hand-drawn music video by banjoist Danny Barnes.

Donovan Woods – “Whatever Keeps You Going”

Canadian singer-songwriter Donovan Woods recently joined BGS for 5+5 on reading lots of fiction, a memorable London show, writing with Lori McKenna, and more.

The Sweet Lillies – “My Brother’s Hill”

Boulder’s The Sweet Lillies bring us their version of a tune originally released by The Stray Birds, a song they chose because they were deeply inspired by its stunning vocal harmonies, its beautiful and meaningful lyrics, and its old-timey structure.

Giri Peters – “Fallin'”

Those who frequent bluegrass festivals in the south may already be familiar with the young savant Giri Peters. Giri and his sister Uma quickly gained popularity in the last number of years for their impeccable musical skills, not to mention at such a young age. Giri, originally known as an up-and-coming mandolinist, has continued to grow as a songwriter and solo artist. His most recent single is a testament to his musical and artistic growth, and brings much promise of an exciting career ahead.

June Star – “I Don’t Wanna Know”

“Human beings are messy emotional creatures,” says June Star’s Andrew Grimm. “Sometimes when we struggle to communicate in relationships it’s because there’s the voice we speak with and that voice in our head. ‘I Don’t Wanna Know’ bounces between a professed love to another person and a confessed loneliness on the inside.”

Miles Gannett – “Thunder River, Tumbling Down”

Miles Gannett heard the melody and some lyrics of this song, including the lines “Thunder River, tumbling down; catch your babes before they drown” in a dream — and it kind of creeped him out. He sat with it for a couple of years before it all came together in this final semi-apocalyptic song.


Photos: (L to R) Shakey Graves by Magen Buse; Sara Watkins by Jacob Boll; Peggy Seeger by Vicki Sharp

Sara Watkins Finds a Dreamy Rhythm With ‘Under the Pepper Tree’

The Schinus molle — more commonly known as the California pepper tree — can grow up to 45 feet high and 50 feet wide, producing small yellow flowers and rose-colored berries, and bringing shade to everything within reach. For Nickel Creek originator Sara Watkins, the pepper tree brings about memories of family, youthful fun, and inspiration for her latest record, Under the Pepper Tree. Produced by Tyler Chester, the 15-song album is a personal project for Watkins, including songs from her own childhood alongside a few original compositions. Reuniting Nickel Creek, I’m With Her, and a range of guest performances, she tackles favorite songs such as “Pure Imagination” (from Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory) and “Blue Shadows on the Trail” (from The Three Amigos).

BGS caught up with Watkins from her California home to talk about the inspirations behind Under the Pepper Tree, and the experience of making a record like this during the COVID-19 pandemic.

BGS: Was the making of this album a different experience from those you’ve done in the past?

Watkins: Yeah, and not just because we did it during COVID. That was a huge appeal in working with Tyler Chester — he can play so many instruments so well. His musicality comes out on each instrument really well. Other than that, I knew early on that it would be necessary for the songs to weave together. As I was collecting these songs, realizing that so many of them are kind of dreamy and mellow, I wasn’t dealing with the typical balance of “up” songs, “down” songs, “sad” songs, “happy” songs, the way those things can affect the sequence of a normal album. Because of the nature of this material, a lot of the songs had a similar dreamy quality, so I thought by connecting them all, that would let the album kind of drift along, and hopefully sweep you up in a way that might not happen if they were all just 15 individual tracks. 

Before going in to record the project, we did a bit of a practice swing, just to see how the sequence might work together. We made some changes to the sequence and adjusted the transitions accordingly, so that everything went together as well as possible. This is the first time I’ve sequenced an album before going in to record, and I really enjoyed the result and how it affected the process throughout. It’s definitely something I’m going to bring with me into my future projects, even if I don’t do it exactly the same way. I’m going to consider it very seriously before starting records. 

How did getting to be home during the pandemic influence your day to day, and outlook on this album?

If affected it completely. I don’t think I would have made this record without the experience of just being home, and realizing that I needed some kind of rhythm, needed something that would tell me that today was passing. I’m new to being home, the way that all musicians are. That, combined with having a toddler now, was a new experience. The first couple years of being a mom I was on tour, and the rhythm of tour life is built into the work, the way that most people’s jobs provide a rhythm for their life. I think a lot of [musicians] were discovering that we needed to create those rhythms, by taking morning or evening walks around the neighborhood, by spending more time making meals or cooking, or doing whatever it is that helps cycle you in to the next part of the day. 

I was digging through my old record collection, and I would listen to five a day, and decide whether or not I wanted to keep them or whether I was done with them. A big part of me creating Under the Pepper Tree with vinyl in mind was because of this wonderful freedom that it gave me to put on a record and not have to make a choice for a while. I could just listen to it and not have to worry what song came up in the algorithm next, or decide whether or not I wanted to skip ahead. That freedom of just making one choice and being able to go about the rest of the things that I needed to do, it felt really liberating, like a kindness that I could do to myself. 

That also played into why I wanted to make this album with record listening in mind. It works great on digital too, but I imagined it being an A and B side. If you only listen to side A, you can get a full arc and it can send you into dreamland. And if you want to listen to it altogether, that’s another experience. 

Like with Nickel Creek on “Blue Shadows on the Trail,” were any specific guests important to certain songs?

“Tumbling Tumbleweeds” with Aoife [O’Donovan] and [Sarah] Jarosz, my I’m With Her bandmates, was just as important, because I really wanted both of those bands on this record. I feel like this album in a lot of ways celebrates this time in my life, and the music that I grew up with. For me also, it was an incredible way to get those two bands together on an album, because they’re both so meaningful to me, and have played such huge roles in my life, and in my growth and development as a person, as a mom. So it was incredibly meaningful to get to have them on it. 

All of the players on the record mean a lot to me, but I really also loved having Davíd Garza on this record, who is a dear friend. In particular, he plays this beautiful solo on “Moon River.” There’s a song on Emmylou Harris’ record Roses in the Snow when Willie Nelson comes in with a guitar solo, and then it sounds like he just goes away. When I first heard that record — I think it was in my early 20s — it was pretty informative to me about how a lot of times musicians can be known for one or two things, but they might not often get asked to just be a musician on somebody else’s record. I just love that [Harris] didn’t get Willie to sing on it, she got him to come in and play a guitar solo. That was really eye-opening for me, and changed the way I thought of playing with people. 

On “Moon River,” I specifically had that moment in mind where Willie comes in and plays a solo and goes away, and so Davíd graciously agreed to be my Willie Nelson on this song, and he does a wonderful job. 

Having a couple of original tunes on the record, what was your process behind writing something that incorporates naturally with these classic songs?

I felt like there should be a spot for fiddle on this record. I knew that I wanted to have an instrumental on here, and I knew that I wanted to write it. It was important to have a little break in the lyrics. It was great to expand my childhood story with the title of the [instrumental], “Under the Pepper Tree.” That has very personal weight to me. A lot of instrumental titles are pretty arbitrary in my experience, but this was an opportunity to share a little bit about my own childhood. 

There’s a tree that I spent a lot of time growing up with, playing in and imagining in. There are several very important pepper trees in my life. One of them is at my aunt’s house, where my grandma used to live. There were two huge family reunions under that pepper tree. I just remember running around with my cousins, playing tag, listening to my aunt’s laugh, all that stuff. It’s a really beautiful thing, and I think that had a natural place on the album. 

The other song [“Night Singing”] was a poem that I wrote, that eventually fell into a guitar part. Originally, I thought that this record would be a lullaby record, but my goal for the record changed. It was to make something a little more deeply transitional for people of all ages. But “Night Singing” is a true lullaby, for my daughter, for myself, and for my friends. 

Do you have any specific plans you’re looking forward to taking on when we climb out of this pandemic? 

This fall, my brother [Sean Watkins] and I are going to do some touring behind our Watkins Family Hour album brother sister, which came out a year ago now. We weren’t able to tour it, but a lot of the dates we had for last fall have been rescheduled for this fall, 2021. We have some dates on the books starting in August, which is kinda hard to believe! So this fall we’ll be able to do some in-person shows, and I’m really looking forward to it. 

I feel very stopped up in terms of creativity, because we wrote the brother sister record, recorded it, and put it out, and haven’t really been able to celebrate it with an audience. Then I put together Under the Pepper Tree, recorded that, released it, and I haven’t been able to do shows for it. There’s been writing for other projects, but I honestly feel a little bit stopped up creatively. I think I just need to perform some of these songs, and get them out of my body, so that I can put more stuff in. As alienating as this whole thing has felt for us, and as isolating as it has been, there has been to some degree a shared experience, and the universality of that has been reassuring at times for me. 


Sara and Sean Watkins, as Watkins Family Hour, are coming to Colorado in March 2022! Grab your tickets here.

Photo credit: Jacob Boll

A New Generation of Bluegrass Stars Reflect on ‘O Brother, Where Art Thou?’

The soundtrack to O Brother Where Art Thou? was a phenomenon in the early 2000s, turning bluegrass musicians into superstars and creating an instant mainstream market for old-time music — from folk to gospel to children’s songs to prison chants to blues and everything in between. To celebrate the twentieth anniversary of its astonishing success and to wrap up our Artist of the Month series, we spoke to several musicians about the impact O Brother and its subsequent tours had on their lives and livelihoods.

Sierra Hull: “I grew up in a little town with maybe 900 people, and there used to be a poster section at the Walmart the next town over. You could flip through the posters and there would be pop stars like Britney Spears and Backstreet Boys. I was always convinced that one day I would find an Alison Krauss poster in there. She was as popular in my little kid brain as Britney Spears. So it was cool when O Brother came out and elevated some of those people who were already giants to me, like Alison and Dan Tyminski and Ralph Stanley.

“I was already playing, but I was too young to be touring yet. By the time Cold Mountain came out [in 2003], I was part of that tour. Alison was part of both soundtracks, and she invited my brother and me to go on that tour. So we got to help celebrate that second wave. I was 12, and it was really the first time for me to be out on tour, travel to so many different places, and play Red Rocks and the Beacon Theater in New York. Standing at the side of the stage and listening to Alison sing to hundreds of people every night every night was one of my favorite memories.

“It was amazing to watch people go crazy over Ralph Stanley every night. He had this dazzled suit jacket that he wore every night. Sometimes he would sit his banjo down while his band played and take that jacket off and throw it to me at the side of the stage. I would get to wear that dazzled jacket at the end of the show when everybody came out on stage. It’s one of the most special musical experiences I’ve ever had.”



Sara Watkins: “O Brother was something we somehow became affiliated with. Nickel Creek had just released our band’s first record on Sugar Hill, after years of doing just little homemade projects. Alison Krauss produced it, which had been out maybe a year and a half when O Brother came out. She was a big part of that soundtrack, of course, so our band was gaining a little bit of notoriety. I remember reading a huge New York Times spread, and we were listed among the people on that scene. We were part of that conversation, despite not having been part of the soundtrack in any way. We were just at the right place at the right time, and the awareness of the bluegrass scene just exploded. We were able to reach a different level very quickly. It was a huge advantage to our career. We already had some momentum, but the soundtrack really put the wind in our sails.

“T Bone Burnett [who produced the album], one of his brilliant skills is finding the right people for the right song. He brought in some incredible musicians in a way that really showed the musicianship in our community and made everyone really proud of our scene. We saw our heroes up there, and it was gratifying to see them celebrated by a huge audience. I remember feeling a new respect for Ralph Stanley with that vocal [on ‘Oh Death’]. That actually turned me on to shape-note singing. Someone told me his delivery was reminiscent of those old communities that did shape-note singing and those old preachers who used to sing that way. I’d never heard anything like it. And to this day, whenever I see Dan Tyminski, I make a point to stick around until he plays ‘Man of Constant Sorrow.’ No way I’m leaving before then.”



Dave Wilson (Chatham County Line): “I remember going with our old bass player to see O Brother in the theater. We snuck a bottle of whiskey in and sat in the back row and just laughed and drank. I remember thinking, ‘Bluegrass has arrived!’ We were already a band and playing small gigs around town, but we weren’t at a place where we had dedicated our lives to it. So it was kismet for us. That record came out, and the scene just exploded. Suddenly we had this huge advertisement out there in the world for the style of music we were playing. We definitely noticed a change. There were more strangers coming to see us play gigs, and they were really excited about it. One side effect was people would yell out for us to play ‘Man of Constant Sorrow.’ They did it enough to make me wonder if they had heard the soundtrack or just seen the movie. But we never played it. We didn’t know how! It would have probably shut them up if we had!

“I really got into the record. There are some badass arrangements on there. And it’s not corny. It’s not super traditional. I love that they reached out to the right people. It could have been bad. They could have gotten Toby Keith or someone like that. Oh god, I don’t even want to think about that! One of my favorite parts is that blues song by Chris Thomas King [a cover of Skip James’ ‘Hard Time Killing Floor’]. It makes for such a special moment. Later, they booked that concert film [Down from the Mountain, recorded at the Ryman Auditorium] at our old classic movie theater here in town, and I remember the boys going to see it and we were all just floored. That was almost bigger than the movie as far as having an impact in the folk music scene.”



Sam Amidon: “People in the folk world can be very protective of the music, which I think is valid. But my inclination is that if I find something I’m excited about, I want to share it. I want people to know about it. To have grown up in a world knowing a lot of the corners O Brother explores, it was beautiful to think about how many people all of a sudden were going to discover these field recordings and these great musicians. And I was thankful because until then, portrayals of traditional music in the mass media had just been so bad and so clichéd or so simplistic. Nothing had depicted this stuff on this scale before. Before then, if you told somebody you played banjo, they would think Deliverance. That was their frame of reference.

“For O Brother to do it without messing it up was a miracle. To see these different corners of American music — beyond just blues and bluegrass as the two major industry terms — was a very positive thing, especially because ‘folk music’ can be such a heterogeneous category. Nobody would even really know what you were talking about if it wasn’t bluegrass or blues. O Brother pointed to all of these different areas. It’s singing games and banjo songs and all these different things. O Brother is weirdly inclusive. It cast a wide net. Nowadays it’s easy to go to the soundtrack and hear more problematic elements of the whole Americana genre thing, but I think it’s good to remember that when it first came along, it was much more nuanced compared to what had come before.”



Woody Platt (Steep Canyon Rangers): “It’s interesting that the twentieth anniversary of O Brother is fairly parallel to the twentieth anniversary of our band. We formed in Chapel Hill, North Carolina, when we were seniors in college, right when the movie came out. We all had been exposed to bluegrass and old-time just by being Carolinians. We all had that music around when we were growing up, but none of us in the band really dove into it until we were in college. We’d only been following that music a few years when the movie came out. I’m not sure we were aware at the time of the impact that the movie and the tour had on bluegrass, old-time, string band, mountain music, but we could feel some excitement when we were playing bars on Franklin Street, which is the main drag in Chapel Hill. But we didn’t really have anything to compare it to. There was no before or after. It was just what we were doing, and that’s all we knew.

“I really enjoyed the movie, but I was a big fan of the album. Hearing Ralph Stanley’s voice in a film, or Dan Tyminski’s, or just seeing people I admired in that movie was pretty incredible. Looking back on it, it was good timing for us to be getting off the ground, and we were having so much fun and finding so much joy in it. The music we were playing had been a small niche, but all of a sudden it had this national interest. I have no doubt in my mind that the awareness of the music was fueled by the movie. It’s a fascinating phenomenon to think about, because it wasn’t marketed in any significant way. It just happened. It was just this thing where people were suddenly into this music.”



Molly Tuttle: “The movie came out when I was seven years old, and I remember my dad showing it to me when I was in grade school. I loved it, and the music really stuck with me because I already had an affinity for bluegrass and old-time music. Seeing it performed in a movie was new and exciting. My dad teaches bluegrass for a living, and when the movie came out, he had an influx of new students.

“It’s had a lasting impact on the popularity of bluegrass music. But I was so young that I didn’t know many of the musicians on the soundtrack by name, so it introduced me to a lot of artists who later became my favorites. And the Down from the Mountain documentary further familiarized me with people like Emmylou Harris and Alison Krauss. Many of those artists, like Gillian Welch and John Hartford, have been big influences on me, and that was my introduction to their music. I’ve performed ‘I’ll Fly Away’ and ‘Angel Band’ a number of times, and I got to do ‘Man of Constant Sorrow’ with Dan Tyminski at the IBMA awards one year.”



Dom Flemons: “I actually saw Ralph Stanley on the O Brother tour in Flagstaff, Arizona, in the year 2000. It was at this random high school. I saw the poster on a telephone pole when I was going to college there. I’d started playing the banjo by that point — six-string and four-string banjo, guitar, and harmonica. I remember the place was really packed out, and he gave this amazing performance. I just loved watching the man at work. When he sang ‘Oh Death,’ he pulled this piece of paper out of his pocket, put on his glasses, and made a joke about how old he was. And he just sang it off this piece of paper and blew our minds.

O Brother was very interesting, and I think it’s still a milestone album for several generations. A lot of the old folks who played those old styles and sang those old songs were starting to pass away, so the soundtrack ended up being a perfect vehicle for getting younger people into the music of the ‘20s and ‘30s. It reminded people of the really good old recordings that were available. That’s where I went. I found the old RCA Victor and Columbia recordings, and that was it for me.

“It’s a perfectly structured record, opening with the prisoners on the chain gang and then it goes to that beautiful ‘Big Rock Candy Mountain.’ And then you get into “You Are My Sunshine” with Norman Blake, and then Chris Thomas King presenting ‘Hard Time Killing Floor.’ That in itself was a revival of Skip James. People talk about Ghost World and Devil Got My Woman, but I think O Brother got it going. People just started casually bringing those songs back in at shows and festivals, and it seemed like a lot more people knew them. Of course they would sing them like the recordings on O Brother. Those are just things I observed before I was a professional musician, and it was amazing to see.”


 

Remember When Dolly Parton Took a Bluegrass “Shine” to This Rock Anthem?

The queen of country music is celebrating a milestone birthday on January 19. Her majesty, Dolly Parton, turns 75 this year, and to celebrate the music that has won awards and our hearts alike, we’re deep-diving back to the distant year of 2001. Like Dolly herself, “Shine” comes from a record that was born in mid-January — one that features a little bit of everything, from original compositions and old traditionals to cleverly reimagined cover tunes like this one. That diverse album, Little Sparrow, earned a pair of Grammy nominations and a win for her vocal performance on “Shine.”

Although this 1993 rock radio staple was originally recorded by Collective Soul and written by its lead singer Ed Roland, Dolly and the all-star backing band in the video give the song a fresh breath of bluegrass energy and acoustic attitude. It’s a seemingly unlikely cover, yet Parton pulls a unique bluegrass diamond out of what seems like a through-and-through rock and roll song. Upon Little Sparrow’s release in 2001, Parton stated, “I’ve been trying to think of how I can sing it without all the rock stuff; it sounds spiritual and all that, and the melody lent itself well to some bluegrass harmonies. I figured we’d kick it around and if it didn’t work, we wouldn’t put it on. But it worked out great.”

As unbelievable as it may be, here is the TL;DR: Dolly won a Grammy for a cover of a Collective Soul hit. Watch the music video below and enjoy our Essential Dolly Parton Playlist in honor of her 75th birthday!


 

21st Century Bluegrass: a BGS Playlist of a New Generation

In the year 2000, a bunch of well-funded music websites were cropping up, with odd names like CDNow and SonicNet, so there was always a steady demand for country-related content — and luckily for me, that included bluegrass. I remember the buzz about O Brother Where Art Thou?, but the older writers claimed those assignments, and since I was still in my 20s, I often landed the interviews and reviews that involved promising new talent, which gave me an opportunity to see a generation of acoustic musicians like Nickel Creek, Michael Cleveland, and Steep Canyon Rangers come of age.

From 2002 to 2015, I had a full-time writing job for a cable network, which led to countless CDs arriving at the office and my name at the door for most country and bluegrass shows, but more often than anywhere I’d go to the Station Inn — and in 2007 ended up writing about the place itself. I’d go see the Infamous Stringdusters while they were still calling themselves Wheelhouse, line up for Old Crow Medicine Show before “Wagon Wheel” became a honky-tonk anthem, and go listen to exceptional singers like Alecia Nugent or Bradley Walker every time they played that stage.

After attending the IBMA conference for the first time in 2002, I watched Doyle Lawson & Quicksilver hit those harmonies on The Hard Game of Love album while I sat on the floor of a Louisville hotel room, literally at the feet of the master. I’d never been to anything quite like it and I did my best to learn everything about the history. I kept my bluegrass CDs in a separate drawer so I could always get to them when I needed to focus or unwind — I’m not a musician myself, but something about acoustic music helps me unplug, so to speak. To see the IBMA World of Bluegrass conference grow into a massive event in Raleigh is thrilling! Now, as managing editor of BGS, my role is to share new roots music with readers, though the 75th birthday of bluegrass seems like the right time to look back on 21st century arrivals on the scene.

Also, as part of our Bluegrass 75 series, be sure to read about the first generation of bluegrass, an exclusive interview with Rodney Dillard, our two-part oral history with New Grass Revival, and a tip of the hat to the women in the ’80s and ’90s who made bluegrass better.


 

BGS Presents IBMA Awards Pre-Show Hosted by Sean & Sara Watkins

BGS is excited to announce the IBMA Bluegrass Music Awards Pre-Show, produced and presented in partnership with IBMA and highlighting this year’s Emerging Artist Award nominees. WATCH HERE.

The half-hour-long special will be hosted by Sean & Sara Watkins (winners of the Emerging Artist award as part of Nickel Creek in 2000) and features performances from all five 2020 nominees: Appalachian Road Show, Carolina Blue, High Fidelity, Mile Twelve, and Merle Monroe.

“In a year of firsts, we’re excited to launch a new collaborative tradition for BGS and IBMA,” says Amy Reitnouer Jacobs, BGS co-founder and Executive Director. “The Pre-Show is an opportunity to kick off the biggest night in bluegrass and highlight the future of the genre.”

The IBMA Bluegrass Music Awards Pre-Show starts at 7:30pm ET/4:30pm PT on Thursday, October 1 — just before the IBMA Bluegrass Music Awards — and will air on our YouTube channel as well as IBMA’s conference and festival platform, Swapcard. (Free music pass registration is available here.) Immediately following the event, viewers can click through to Swapcard, or IBMA’s Facebook page, to stream the full awards show.  The Pre-Show is presented in partnership with BGS sponsor, Preston Thompson Guitars.

IBMA World of Bluegrass 2020 is a virtual music homecoming and convention, taking place September 28-October 3; the event includes the IBMA Business Conference; IBMA Bluegrass Ramble presented by Count On Me NC, an innovative series of band showcases; the 31st Annual IBMA Bluegrass Music Awards presented by Count On Me NC, and IBMA Bluegrass Live! powered by PNC.

Watch the IBMA Bluegrass Music Awards Pre-Show here.


(Editor’s note: A previous version of this announcement listed the air time for the show as 7pm ET / 4pm PT. The correct airtime is 7:30pm ET / 4:30pm PT.)