BGS 5+5: Amanda Anne Platt

Artist name: Amanda Anne Platt & The Honeycutters (answered by Amanda)
Hometown: Asheville, North Carolina
Latest singles: “Desert Flowers” and “There May Come a Day”
Personal nicknames (or rejected band names): I was in a band with my brother and my cousin when I was 8 that was called Crusty Chinchilla Rejects Recently Escaped from a Mental Institution…

What’s your favorite memory from being on stage?

I feel really lucky as I sit here and try to work out what my favorite memory of being on stage is… it’s nice that there have been so many. I think one of my favorites from recent memory was the last show of our 2019 tour opening for Amy Ray. It was at Club Café in Pittsburgh and I got to get up on stage for her last song, “I Didn’t Know a Damn Thing,” which is one of my favorites from her album Holler, and then the encore which was Tom Petty’s “Refugee.” I was enormously pregnant and the stage was already crowded so it was a tight squeeze! But I felt so cool just getting to sing along and dance. The energy in the room was fantastic.

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

Probably literature and film, the most. When someone can tell a story in a highly relatable, moving way, I am very inspired by that. When I finish a good book or leave the theater after a really well-made film I almost always want to sit down and write a song.

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

I really enjoy making my band “quack” like the Mighty Ducks, but I would be lying if I said they were as into it as I am. And you can’t do it alone. So, mostly I just cry in the bathroom. Actually I am usually just scrambling to write a set list and eat something moments before we go on stage.

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

I grew up in the land of all-night diners, and I’ve really been missing that especially now during the pandemic. So I would love to have a post-show burger at a proper diner somewhere… I feel like John Prine would have been a great guy to share a booth at a diner with. I have some questions for him about his songs that I kind of always hoped I’d have a chance to ask him in person.

How often do you hide behind a character in a song or use “you” when it’s actually “me”?

I might actually do the reverse more… I tend to always use “I” even though I don’t write autobiographically very often. So in that way I guess I turn every character into “me” and I hide myself in that way…?


Photo credit: Sandlin Gaither

The Avett Brothers: Three Perspectives on ‘The Third Gleam’

Back in March, the Avett Brothers — Scott and Seth Avett, along with bassist Bob Crawford — were scheduled to leave their homes in North Carolina and head out West, where their longtime producer, Rick Rubin, was waiting at his studio in Malibu. They were in a prolific place at the top of the year, and eager to keep up the momentum. They had just released Closer Than Together, their tenth studio album, in October 2019, and had written and recorded The Third Gleam, the latest chapter in a series of acoustic EPs. They had also written a ton of new material — enough for another album, by Scott’s estimation — and were all set to move forward with it when the coronavirus hit. Everything, including their flights to California, ground to a halt.

The only thing that’s gone according to plan for the Avetts in 2020 is The Third Gleam, and it’s weirdly fitting — fateful, even — that it’s a homecoming in many ways. The eight-song EP was ushered into a tumultuous time they never saw coming, one that’s forcing everyone to stay put, slow down, and count their blessings more fervently than usual. It’s a return to the sparse acoustic arrangements that the Avetts perfected in their early releases before they teamed up with Rubin in 2009 for their mainstream breakthrough, I And Love And You, which brought them into the rock arena.

The Second Gleam came out in 2008 just before I And Love And You changed their lives and their sound, and though they’ve never strayed from their bluegrass and folk framework, they haven’t returned to the simplicity of Scott and Seth working through ideas with only their guitars and each other for company to this degree in over a decade. (Crawford does join them on The Third Gleam; he wasn’t brought in for the first two.)

The Third Gleam was written long before the world abruptly changed, but it touches on themes that bubbled up from the tension and strife that’s shaped recent moments of violence, unrest, uncertainty, despair, and the embers of resilience, hope, and the pursuit of social justice that smolder in spite of all of the above. Gun violence (“I Should’ve Spent the Day With My Family”), facing the unknown with grace (“Victory”), considering mortality (“Prison to Heaven”), and the deep joys and struggles of the human condition (“The Fire”) are all explored here, in soft tones, plaintive strumming, and the meditative plucking of Scott’s banjo.

Each song is striking in its approachable yet profound sincerity, and this less-is-more approach is one they found to be particularly effective in this fractured time. These issues were on their minds before the coronavirus upended life as we know it, but the Avett Brothers find themselves finding new meaning on The Third Gleam back where they started: at home, in North Carolina, trying to make sense of the world with little more than two voices and two guitars in sharp relief. For Scott, it’s simple: “The smallness of the Gleam — that’s where its power is.”

BGS: When I think of the first two Gleams, some of the saddest songs you’ve ever written come to mind, like “If It’s the Beaches,” but also gems that became fan favorites, like “Murder in the City.” How do The Gleam, the Second Gleam and The Third Gleam stand out to you? What sets them apart from the rest of your work?

Scott Avett: If there was a heart or soul or spirit to everything we do, [The Gleams] orbit a bit closer to that. If there’s layers to an entity or a life, this is kind of at the pure center of it. I’m coming up with this theory for some reason right now with you. [Laughs] At the root of the songs, a lot of the songs on other releases, we have wrung them out — put them literally through the wringer — to see what they want to become, what they can become, what we’re trying to hear and get out of them. Are we challenging them or going too far with them? With these, we don’t ever take that journey. It’s much earlier in the inception of the life of the song that we stop meddling with them. There’s a little more to just be with them, which is at the root of things.

Seth Avett: The series itself sort of represents a simplification across many aspects of this whole thing. It represents the clearing out of many great things, many great tools, and many great advantages we have with our band and our resources, and our possibilities. It simplifies the process of collaboration, the process of artwork. It simplifies recording, mixing, mastering and everything else. Across the board, it’s just a process of simplification and reduction, to where the only real star is the lyrics. I think that we’re still attempting to make something that’s engaging, musically, but it’s no secret: what we put our time into is storytelling, writing words and then sharing them onstage. It’s always at the heart of our songs, and so the Gleam is presenting only the heart rather than the entire body in a way.

Bob Crawford: They’re Scott and Seth’s sketchbooks, really. If you knew these guys as well as I do — and I know a lot of people know them very well, because they put it all out there and they always have — but if you love a great painter’s paintings, and you become a connoisseur of that painter’s paintings, their sketchbooks are widely available nowadays, be it Rembrandt or Leonardo da Vinci. That’s how I look at the Gleams, stitched in with the fabric of all our work: they’re basically more broken down, raw thoughts that they guys have. They’ve always wanted these things to be quieter and less. This is the first one, I think, I’ve played on; normally it’s just Scott and Seth doing these. It’s just a chance for them to get quiet, be alone, and be brothers.

You’ve been very busy between Gleams. How has it been to return to this acoustic space after playing arena-ready roots-rock on Closer Than Together

Seth Avett: What it does for me, personally, is it takes a new inventory of our trust, of our brotherhood — my trust for Scott and his trust for me — with no other real considerations. It’s wonderful to be reminded in such a genuine way, with such gravity, that we still trust each other completely, and we’re not moving forward based only on the efforts of others. We still have each other’s trust and care, and we still hold those things in the highest regard. It’s a funny thing: on the first two Gleams and on this one, when we go into the process of finding out what the songs are going to be, and we present them to each other, there’s very little discussion.

All these full-length records, whether one person wrote the whole song technically or not, the other one will have a certain amount of contribution to it. There’s a lot of weighing: “What does it mean?” “Can it be said better?” “Is this too much, is this too little?” We do consider them in a big way, and we consider the songs on the Gleams in a big way as well — but we hardly talk about it. It’s like, “Hey, here’s four songs that are feeling really good to me and things I want to say,” and the other brother says the same, and that’s it. We just do it. It’s cool.

Bob Crawford: These Gleams give them an opportunity to come together and work together a little more than they have in recent years. We’re coming full-circle because of the pandemic. Since the pandemic, they’ve been living very close together and spending more time together. They were always close as brothers and best friends, but closer, approximately, so they could get together. We were actually about to go to Malibu to record the week the pandemic hit, the week of the shutdown. Ultimately, we tried to do it all these different ways; it just didn’t work out, so it turned into them recording demos themselves, sending me the demos, and me recording the bass and sending them back.

Did any of these new songs pose a new challenge you hadn’t confronted in your songwriting before? 

Scott Avett: What’s different about mine — and this is a change for Seth and I — we sort of switched places. Several years ago, I probably would’ve been the one that tended to be more rapid-fire, more erratic. I just chop it up with a lot of syllables and a lot of words. On this one, we switched. We were laughing about it. Seth’s songs have a lot of words and tell stories, they’re narrative, and then mine are very much personal and have a lot less words and a lot more space.

I always look at it that there’s only one character on the record, there’s one character in the story, and the two of us kind of make that character. We would do very different things on our own, probably. There’s a contrast to it, a gemini sort of approach to it I guess. [“I Should Have Spent the Day With My Family”] is a good example of what’s changed for us. It’s minor and subtle to anybody else, but it’s a change for us.

Seth Avett: If you look at The Third Gleam, it’s impossible not to compare and contrast between me and Scott — I know it is, I’m sure all of our fans do it — where the differences between the Seth and Scott songs have never been more laid bare, in terms of the difference of the vibe. Scott’s songs, they just have so much space and breadth in them. I don’t look at “Family” or “Fire” as songs that have a ton of breadth in them; they feel a bit more urgent.

The narratives have a bit more of an agenda. Whereas, “I Go to My Heart,” “Victory,” “Back into the Light,” they have quite a lot of breadth and space, and so I’m seeing a change in him. If we are writing the songs we’re meant to write, and we are giving reverence to our form, then the changes in us are the changes in the song. If you ask, “How have I seen his writing change?” I’m thinking about how he is growing and changing, as a man, as a father, as a brother. It’s all kind of wrapped in one.

The role of advocacy and activism in music has changed, even since you released Closer Than Together, and “Family” is a turning point for you especially, Seth. You mention your wife and child by name in a song about gun violence, and you’ve never done that before. How has it been to anchor the Gleam in this moment in that regard?

Seth Avett: I can’t say that there was a point where I said, “Okay, now I’m going to open the door and start writing these types of songs.” This sort of happened incrementally. A song like “Bang Bang,” there were multiple moments where I’d go to a hotel room, and I’d turn on the television, and it’s just one [show] after the next, from ridiculous garbage to the most eloquent sci-fi — but it’s always the leading man with the gun. It’s always presented with such power, and it’s just ridiculous. The idea of holding a gun to make someone powerful is absurd; it’s preposterous.

I had many moments like that, and then there were many shootings. “I Should Have Spent the Day with My Family” is an obvious, super-literal reaction; “We Americans,” that’s the first four years of a person’s life growing up as an American. I don’t know that there’s one moment where I gave myself permission, but there have been many moments that I consider wholly unavoidable in terms of taking that into the songwriting.

This has been a tumultuous time, so I was curious if you think there’s a connection between that and going back to the foundation with an acoustic EP. Do you find that it was an organic thing to take a step back and retract to that nucleus and get to the root of all things Avett with The Third Gleam, considering everything going on?

Bob Crawford: It’s definitely a time of reflection, and it does make you appreciate all we’ve done, because you don’t know when and how we’re going to do it again. … For me, “Victory” is the greatest song they ever wrote. We only win when we submit; we only find peace when we let go. How do we hold it all together in our hearts at the same time? How do we not lose our minds at that? How do we find true peace inside while there’s chaos flowing back and forth? I think, hopefully, the Avett Brothers can be part of the center of that. If you are the center of that, you’re not polarizing. You can’t alienate anybody. No matter what you know they believe, face to face is how we live the gospel, how we can make real change.


Photo credit: Crackerfarm

BGS & #ComeHearNC Celebrate the Cultural Legacy of North Carolina during #NCMusicMonth

On the national music scene, North Carolina sets itself apart by blending the heritage of traditional roots music with the innovation of modern indie and Americana sounds. The bluegrass canon of North Carolina encompasses pioneers like Charlie Poole and Earl Scruggs, as well as groundbreaking musicians like Elizabeth Cotten, Alice Gerrard, and Doc Watson. Today’s spectrum of talent spans from modern favorites such as Darin & Brooke Aldridge, Balsam Range, and Steep Canyon Rangers, and the progressive perspective of the Avett Brothers, Rhiannon Giddens, Mandolin Orange, Hiss Golden Messenger, Mipso, and many more.

One example of how the state is merging past with present is the recent opening of North Carolina’s only vinyl pressing plant — Citizen Vinyl in Asheville.

 

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Built over 15 months in 1938-1939, The Asheville Citizen Times Building (@citizentimes) was designed by architect Anthony Lord as the grand center for the city’s two newspapers and radio station WWNC. Located at 14 O’Henry Avenue, the massive three-story building of reinforced concrete, granite and limestone, utilizing 20,000 glass bricks, is considered Asheville’s finest example of Art Moderne design. In 2019, Citizen Vinyl claimed the first floor & mezzanine of this iconic landmark as the future home of a vinyl record pressing plant, as well as a café, bar and record store – and is reviving the historic third floor radio station as a modern recording and post-production facility.

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According to press materials, the building’s third floor played host to Asheville’s historic WWNC (“Wonderful Western North Carolina”) which was once considered the most popular radio station in the United States. In 1927, the station hosted live performances by Jimmie Rodgers and made his first recordings shortly before he went to Bristol, Tennessee.  In 1939, the station featured  the first ever live performance by Bill Monroe and the Bluegrass Boys during its Mountain Music Time segment.  Citizen Vinyl expects to keep the live music tradition alive in this former newspaper building, too.

Here at BGS, we’ve been committed to North Carolina music from our launch, notably with our Merlefest Late Night Jams, which are always worth staying up for. And how much do we love the IBMA World of Bluegrass week in Raleigh? Looking back on our archive, we gathered these songs from the artists we’ve covered over the years — and looking ahead, you’ll see all-new interviews with the Avett Brothers and Mipso, examine the classic country stars with roots in North Carolina, and spotlight some rising talent with video performances at the state’s most scenic destinations.

In the meantime, you can discover more about the North Carolina music scene through their website and on Instagram at @comehearnc


Editor’s note: This content brought to you in part by our partners at Crossroads Label Group.

The Show on the Road – Mipso

This week, we feature one of the leading roots-pop bands working today: Mipso. An affable and endlessly-creative quartet formed in Chapel Hill, NC, they are made up of fiddle player Libby Rodenbough, mandolinist Jacob Sharp, guitarist Joseph Terrell, and bassist Wood Robinson.


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Despite the anxious mood of their swing-state home base, it’s quite an exciting time for Mipso. Host Z. Lupetin was able to catch up with Libby and Jacob (via Zoom of course) to discuss their lushly orchestrated, self-titled record which just dropped last week; and if you walk down 8th Avenue in Nashville this week, you might catch a billboard with their sheepish grins large in the sky.

How did they get here? It’s hard to find a group where every member can effortlessly sing lead and write genre-bending songs that fit seamlessly on six acclaimed albums — and counting — in under ten years. Earlier standout records like the breakout Dark Holler Pop, produced by fellow North Carolinian Andrew Marlin of Mandolin Orange, and Edges Run, which features a veritable online hit in the broken-voiced, emotional “People Change,” show how Mipso appeals not only to folk fest-loving moms and dads, but also their edgier kids, who appreciate their subversive turns of phrase and playful gender-ambiguous, neon-tinted wardrobe.

As Z. found out during his conversation with Libby and Jacob, the band nearly broke up after a series of grueling 150-shows-a-year runs, a scary car wreck, and the pressure of putting out Edges Run for their rapidly growing fanbase. The forced slower pace of this last year and a half has been a gift in several ways — allowing the group to catch their breath and hole up to write more collaboratively than ever. The shimmering sonic backdrop that gifted producer and musician Sandro Perri was able to bring to the Mipso sessions at Echo Mountain studio in Asheville really makes the songs feel like they could exist in any era.

You wouldn’t be alone if you heard the connection between the honey-hooked newest record with the timeless, mellow-with-a-hint-of-menace hits of the 1970s (looking at you James Taylor and Carly Simon). Songs like “Never Knew You Were Gone” show off Terrell’s gift for gently asking the deepest questions, like where he might go when he transitions to the other side in a “silvery fire,” or the sardonically nostalgic “Let A Little Light In,” which wonders if the soft-focused images we have of the peaceful, boomtime 1990s (when Mipso was growing up) could use some real scrutiny. Rodenbough’s silky fiddle work stars throughout –and her courageous, vulnerable lead vocal on “Your Body” may be the most memorable moment on the new work.

Stick around to the end of the episode to hear mandolinist Jacob Sharp introduce his favorite contribution, “Just Want To Be Loved.”


Photo credit: D.L. Anderson

LISTEN: Cf Watkins, “White Nights”

Artist: Cf Watkins
Hometown: Westfield, North Carolina (Currently in Nashville, Tennessee)
Song: “White Nights”
Album: Babygirl
Release Date: October 16, 2020
Label: Whatever’s Clever Records

In Their Words: “‘White Nights’ is based off of one of my favorite Dostoevsky short stories. On this album, I was trying to explore shifting the way I write music and, in a sense, share myself. I felt a lot of my music was coming from a place of my own longing, unrequited love, and heartbreak. Though I think all of those topics are worthy of our time and attention, I felt, as a woman especially, it was important for me to explore and show my strength as well. I started by simply shifting the focus from myself, and writing songs about something outside of myself. This was one of the first songs to come from that effort. I am singing from the male perspective, who has unrequitedly fallen in love with the female character. There was something very powerful for me to recontextualize romantic longing — to sing the male voice, and to have it honoring the power and magic of a woman.” — Cf Watkins


Photo credit: Griffin Hart Davis

With ‘Arm in Arm,’ Steep Canyon Rangers Give Everyone Time to Shine (Part 2 of 2)

Steep Canyon RangersArm in Arm, their first collection of all-new material in two years, is a set of highly grown-up songs, some with storylines that you’d expect from the likes of Drive-By Truckers or Bruce Springsteen. It’s more loose-limbed and less traditional than past Rangers albums, with fine ensemble playing throughout.

BGS caught up with co-leaders Woody Platt and Graham Sharp in separate conversations leading up to the release of Arm in Arm. After starting with Platt yesterday, here is the conversation with Sharp.

BGS: With the band off the road, have you been able to do any songwriting during this time?

Sharp: I started off writing on a real tear the first few months. But then I slacked off a bit, in part because that coincided with me starting to make an album of my own. Switching from writing to recording slowed down that end of it, but working on my own stuff is kind of out of necessity. For the band to survive this and come back when it’s time, we’ve all got to look out for ourselves a little more.

It’s a strange new hustle, but we’re holding up pretty good. We’ve all been forced to sort of pivot, after having not stopped moving in 20 years. This is the longest any of us have stayed put that whole time. It takes a moment to settle, but it’s been eye-opening. Forced me into some new directions that have been good and ought to pay dividends once we can get the band back together. I’m trying to pull out as many silver linings as I can.

That’s a bit of news, about the solo album. What can you tell us about that?

I don’t know where or when it will ever come out, but the solo album is close to done. I’ve been working with Seth Kaufman from Floating Action in his little basement studio here in Black Mountain. It’s mostly new songs, and a handful of tunes the Rangers have been kicking around a while without getting to them. Nothing bluegrassy about it, mostly country to country-soul, because I have definite tendencies in that direction and a deep love for country music of the ’60s, ’70s, ’50s. That’s still among my favorites.

After Charles Humphreys III left the Rangers in 2017, this is the first album where you’ve written all the songs, not just most of them. Was there more pressure on you?

Not necessarily. It did not change my process much, anyway. I always just try to compile as much good material as I can. It is neat that with a band as organic as this one, a song can kick around for years where we’ll never find a place for it and then suddenly it’s revived. The last song on the album “Crystal Ship” was like that. I had that one for a long time and then backstage one day, [Mike] Ashworth just started playing that melody because he remembered it from a year or two earlier. It’s cool to have the band’s collective memory to draw on, where everybody is part of the process.

The first song “One Drop of Rain” is another. I probably wrote that one six or seven years ago and I’d just never taken the time to find the right groove and place for it. Then one night Woody and I were backstage, I had this little banjo roll, he had the phrasing to go with that and we put it together. A lot of songs come together over time like that. The process is more cumulative than me bringing something in, “Hey, I’ve got this new song.”

Do you have any particular favorite songs on this one?

Probably “One Drop of Rain” and “Honey on My Tongue,” for different reasons. I can remember exactly where I was and the situation I was trying to capture with “One Drop,” just shortly after my father-in-law had died very unexpectedly — 64 years old. What it gets at for me is, try to love your way through the hardest situations. And “Honey” is one I wrote with my daughter in mind. She was giving me a hard time, saying I never write songs for her — not true! But yeah, okay, that was written specifically for her. There are several songs about resilience, dealing with loss, setbacks. All to different degrees, tied to different moments in time.

This record sounds very, dare I say it, mature and grown up.

Well, we’re all passing into the point in our lives where we see a lot of past decisions come to fruition as everyone’s lives play out, our own as well as others. That perspective figures into it. As a songwriter, I’m maturing and trying to hone in on the emotional center of a song – and trying not to write about fluff. We were all very aware while making this album that a lot of the songs aren’t necessarily sad, but a little bit heavier.

And on this record, you’ve also got the first lead vocal from new bassist Barrett Smith.

It’s been cool, having him take on a bigger vocal role. With Woody or myself, it’s just us singing songs at this point. But with Barrett, there’s this ability to tailor songs to a new voice in the band. The song he sings, “Everything You Know,” we talked through the lyrics and the story. Woody and I have always done that, gone through songs in detail. Although sometimes, I don’t necessarily want to influence the pictures anybody else sees in their head while singing.

Once a song is written and out there, it belongs as much to the listener as the singer or the writer. Sometimes they come up with something different, too. “Can’t Get Home” from the last record, Woody thought I wrote that for soldiers coming home and he wasn’t the only one. I had not necessarily meant it that way, but I talked to enough other people about it that it kind of changed the song’s meaning for me, which was cool.

Did taking on the production yourself make Arm in Arm more collaborative than past albums?

I feel like what we do on stage is try to give everybody in the band moments to shine while keeping things moving. Producing this record ourselves was like that, more so than us playing while someone else producers. There are songs where I remember, so and so arranged this part, so and so suggested this harmony, so and so came up with the idea for this mix. So many different pieces where I can see everybody’s fingerprints. I’m proud of that.

I’m just psyched to have something to roll out into the world, reach out a little bit. You know, it’s not the best time to be releasing a record because we can’t tour. So I hope this will reach and touch people. I’m definitely prouder of this record than anything we’ve ever done.

Read part one of our Steep Canyon Rangers Artist of the Month interviews here.


Editor’s Note: David Menconi’s Step It Up and Go: The Story of North Carolina Popular Music, from Blind Boy Fuller and Doc Watson to Nina Simone and Superchunk will be published in October by University of North Carolina Press.

Photo credit: David Simchock

LISTEN: Tyler Ramsey, “Back on the Chain Gang”

Artist: Tyler Ramsey
Hometown: Asheville, North Carolina
Song: “Back on the Chain Gang” (Pretenders’ cover)
Album: Found a Picture of You EP
Release Date: October 16, 2020
Label: Fantasy Records

In Their Words: “There are two guitars that I used on this version of ‘Back on the Chain Gang’ — both my favorites. The acoustic is a ’50s Harmony H162 that was rebuilt by Scott Baxendale and the electric that comes in about halfway through is a late ’60s Guild Starfire V and is the most amazing electric I’ve ever owned. I found it in Knoxville at a friend’s guitar shop called Music Room Guitars when I really wasn’t looking for a guitar at all, and it changed the way I play as did the Baxendale! The guitar playing on Pretenders albums has always blown my mind. This song has such a beautiful and catchy lead-in and solo. I tried to capture the essence of it with solo fingerstyle guitar while making it sound like me.” — Tyler Ramsey


Photo credit: Bill Reynolds

Steep Canyon Rangers Carry On, Without the Suits, ‘Arm in Arm’ (Part 1 of 2)

The COVID-19 virus has pretty much shut down the music industry, with nightclubs and concert venues shuttered across the world. And yet the Steep Canyon Rangers have had their most productive year ever in the midst of it all. October will see the release of their new studio album, Arm in Arm, the Rangers’ third record in less than a year.

Arm in Arm follows last December’s North Carolina Songbook, a live recording taped on the main Watson Stage at the 2019 MerleFest and featuring iconic North Carolina songs by Elizabeth Cotten, James Taylor, Ben E. King, Ola Belle Reed and even jazzman Thelonious Monk. And then early in 2020 came Be Still Moses, another quirky live recording — this one with the Rangers’ hometown Asheville Symphony Orchestra, featuring a memorable vocal cameo from Boyz II Men.

BGS caught up with co-leaders Woody Platt and Graham Sharp (Read part two here.) in separate conversations leading up to the release of Arm in Arm, starting with Platt.

BGS: Since touring can’t happen these days, you’ve had to make do with livestreams and also drive-in shows around your home territory. How have those gone?

Platt: The drive-in shows went great, but they were a lot of work for us. It’s not like there’s a model or handbook: “Here’s what you do for live music in the middle of a pandemic.” So we tried to keep it simple. Since we really wanted people to stay in their cars, we had a short-range FM transmitter and no live PA, trying to keep everybody tethered to their cars.

We were lucky that, through our work with Steve Martin, we know someone who is a leading AV guy. He developed a truck with stage bolts, transmitter and LED screen popped out the top — a mobile rig he’ll keep using all over the country. Sonically, it was like being in the studio. And instead of applause, there’s horns and windshield wipers and headlights, which was amusing. For the encore, they called us back with horns. Ultimately, I think it was joyful — a unique bit of fun for an audience that hadn’t experienced any live music for a long time.

It also appears you’ve had a change in direction, not musically so much as in terms of style. You’re not wearing suits on stage anymore?

I don’t know how to explain that other than that the music evolved, so we did, too. Presentation has always been a constantly evolving thing. We didn’t wear suits at the beginning, then we did for a long time in the middle — and we still do when we work with Steve Martin. But hey, we’re the Rangers and we’re still looking nice even if we don’t regularly dress up in suits anymore. And much like the music, it’s an evolution that was not calculated or contrived. We’ve kind of gone more upper-casual, I guess. Bluegrass business casual.

Was putting out three albums in less than a year part of a master plan?

We never would have planned anything like that, but these three records were all basically done not too far apart. Arm in Arm was all but mixed when the shutdown hit, and that part of it was something we didn’t have to get together for. We could send that around, work on tracks remotely and share them back and forth. The other two were both already in the can, fortunately.

Watching all this come out, you’d almost think it’s just life as usual. If nothing else, it’s been great to be able to continue sharing music with the world. And it’s also kept us productive and in touch with each other and also the idea of pushing forward. Without these projects to focus on, we could have drifted away from each other. But we’ve had things to focus on day in and day out, to stay creative and in communication.

How did you wind up collaborating with Boyz II Men on the Be Still Moses title track?

All credit for that goes to our producer Michael Selverne, a cat from New York who is also an attorney and musician himself. He’s got a lot of connections and he works them all. He called me up one day and said, “You guys are an all-male singing quartet, and I consider you a vocal group. Well, I know another great vocal group for this song, too.” “Oh yeah,” I said, “who?” He said Boyz II Men and my jaw just dropped. But I never want to discourage or squash any idea that seems unobtainable, so all I said was, “Sounds great. If you can pull that off, we’re game.”

He not only pulled it off, he incorporated them and our band and the symphony in a way that worked. It was pretty unusual company for us, but we’re used to that. First time we met, we were set up onstage with the symphony at Schermerhorn [Symphony Center] in Nashville, just milling around, and here they come. Once we started, I had to kick that song off with a little guitar run and sing the first verse — a tall order when a bunch of singers like that are staring at you. But it turned out great.

Since Arm in Arm was the first album you guys produced yourself, without an outside producer, what was that like?

There are a lot of good reasons for using a producer, especially the fact that we’re a democracy and everybody in the band has equal weight in discussions and decisions. I love that, but it can take longer to get from point A to point B while keeping everybody happy. It can help to have an outside person to mediate and help with decisions when time is of the essence. But this record came together very quickly, and we had a lot of faith in our engineer’s skill and his ear.

What’s next after this? Are more live dates with Steve Martin and Martin Short on the docket?

I was talking to Steve recently and he told me they have picked up every date that was on the books. All the shows that were canceled, they’re already rescheduled. We were overseas when the lights went out from the pandemic, supposed to play in London, and it’s been a day-by-day experience ever since. So there’s a lot of optimism in rebooking everything and I hope it all turns out. But I have to admit, I kind of chuckled to myself about already rescheduling. I just don’t know.

It’s been more than 20 years since you guys first got together at the University of North Carolina. Ever think Steep Canyon Rangers would still be going two decades later?

Since we’ve been around for so long, it’s easy to think we should be bigger or more successful by now. But taking a step back and looking at the things we’ve actually accomplished, it all adds up. We’ve had a lot of good things happen, good music and shows and records, and we’ve been recognized in some great ways. I never thought we’d win a Grammy award!

Read part two of our Steep Canyon Rangers Artist of the Month interviews here.


Editor’s Note: David Menconi’s book, Step It Up and Go: The Story of North Carolina Popular Music, from Blind Boy Fuller and Doc Watson to Nina Simone and Superchunk, will be published in October by University of North Carolina Press.

Photo credit: Shelly Swanger

Artist of the Month: Steep Canyon Rangers

In a state with no shortage of bluegrass bands, North Carolina’s Steep Canyon Rangers have always set themselves apart with compelling songwriting and a camaraderie that feels authentic, whether they’re up on stage headlining Merlefest or at a performing arts center supporting Steve Martin. (The band shared IBMA Entertainer off the Year honors with Martin in 2011.) These guys have integrity, sure, but they also have an adventurous spirit, a subtle sense of humor, and a keen perspective that reflects where they are in life.

On their upcoming album, Arm in Arm, bluegrass fans will find a lot to like, but so will those listeners who pay attention to songwriting. It happens to be the first time they’ve recorded an album outside of North Carolina, opting to work at Southern Ground studio in Nashville, and to produce the album with Brandon Bell. Some of the sonic textures may sound different, but the emotions in their music remain intact.

“We’re not trying to sound like a style or genre,” says Graham Sharp, the band’s banjo player, frequent songwriter, and occasional lead singer. “We’re not trying to fit into a certain mold. For a long time, we were a traditional bluegrass band, and that meant the themes would have to fit into that mold: work songs, heartbreak songs, train songs. But we’ve evolved to play any groove, any style, and it has opened us up to so many more possibilities.”

BGS will spotlight Steep Canyon Rangers as our Artist of the Month with back-to-back interviews with two of its founding band members, Woody Platt and Graham Sharp, conducted by noted North Carolina author and journalist David Menconi. (Read part one with Woody Platt here. Read part two with Graham Sharp here.) Arm in Arm arrives on October 16, but we’ve include a few of its early tracks below in our BGS Essentials Playlist for Steep Canyon Rangers.


Photo credit: David Simchock

BGS 5+5: The Band of Heathens

Artist: Ed Jurdi of The Band of Heathens
Hometown: Asheville, North Carolina; band’s hometown is Austin, Texas
Latest album: Stranger
Band Nicknames: The Hand of Beathens

What’s your favorite memory from being on stage?

At the Americana Awards a few years back. I remember being on stage at the Ryman Auditorium and looking around and realizing that I was performing with a bunch of my heroes. Delbert McClinton, Emmylou Harris, John Hiatt and Sam Bush, to name just a few. It truly was a full circle moment for sure.

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

In short they all do. I have always been in awe of painters who can really create a world with their colors and imagery. I find myself being really inspired by the impressionistic painters and the way they use light to offer a unique and different perspective on things that can be somewhat mundane.

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

I don’t have any real set rituals, but I generally like to hang around the gig and sing some songs either by myself, or with whoever else is hanging out. It’s a good way to warm up and it’s a fun way to get the group vibes in a positive space.

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

Follow the muse. Lead with your art and expression and figure out how to make the business part of the career work in service of the creativity. I can happily say that has always been the case.

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

I live in Asheville, North Carolina, so I spend the most time in the mountains and the forests that surround us. I love being able to hike way out into the woods and find a vista where I can see both the great scope of things, but also hear the rustling of the leaves and the wind blowing through the tops of the trees. In those moments of solitude I find my mind is incredibly clear and clean, which is almost always when ideas begin to present themselves almost out of nowhere.


Photo credit: Jason Quigley