Tag: old country

Outlaw Country That’ll Make You Smile

Posted on by Justin Hiltner

Holding the attention of a roomful of moderately smashed bar-goers is no small feat, let alone with a traditional Irish folksong. But last May, country singer-songwriter Dylan Earl ended his set at Brooklyn’s Skinny Dennis standing on top of the bar and singing an a cappella version of “Wild Mountain Thyme.”

“Will you go, lassie go/ And we’ll all go together/ To pull wild mountain thyme/ All around the blooming heather,” Earl implored in his warm baritone, towering above the room in worn jeans, boots, and a sleeves-cut-off T-shirt from his Arkansas-based label, Gar Hole Records. In spite of all the alcohol collectively consumed by the listeners who packed the venue to its beer-tinged walls that evening, the room was just about as quiet as a divey honky-tonk can be.

By ending his set with the kind of folk song which, passed down through generations, comprises one major lineage of country music – indeed, “Wild Mountain Thyme” is based in a much older Scottish folk song – Earl invoked a deep vernacular tradition and history often left out of modern country. Earl’s music attracts labels like “old-school” and “classic country,” and his voice certainly lends itself to those comparisons, but his own compositions convey a whole lot more. Rejecting the banality of tired Southern stereotypes, Earl writes punk-hearted, poetic music rooted in a love of people and place; music which is both socially and class-conscious and captures wide-ranging cultural unease and indignation with nuance and wit.

On his fourth studio album, Level-Headed Even Smile (released September 19), Earl makes clear that his is not a return to a bygone era so much as a carrying on of a long tradition of speaking truth to power and of imbuing dimension and worth into the lives of overlooked characters and issues too easily reduced to absolutes.

“I’d rather be an outlaw than in with the law/ All this authority worship is the strangest thing I ever saw,” he sings in “Outlaw Country,” a thesis statement of sorts for the album and Earl himself. Earl wrote “Outlaw Country” out of frustration at how many people made assumptions about his beliefs and morals because of his appearance – and because he plays country music with a whole lot of Southern twang. Earl wanted to make it clear where he stands.

“I finished high school in a very rural part of Arkansas; I identify with the Deep South, but I don’t identify with its most prevalent fucking right-wing rhetoric… I still want to remain approachable to those people I completely disagree with, because I think that’s an important part of making art, is creating discourse,” he says. “I want to try to approach these people and try to have that conversation. Be like, ‘Listen here, brother, I’m just like you, but you don’t have to be a racist piece of shit. It’s way more fun in life to be happy and be inclusive. Your soul will be happier because of that.’”

Lately, outlaw country morphed from its subversive roots into a shorthand for wicked good independent country or a slightly more specific alternative to Americana. While both wicked good and independent, Earl’s version also rekindles contempt for the establishment that fueled the original outlaw country movement:

I’d rather be a bootlegger than a bootlicker
A side stepper than a homewrecker
And I don’t get a pick me up
From putting other people down

It’s clear to see by the air I breathe
Working class solidarity
Is the only way
We’re gonna stamp that fascist out

Sardonic and irreverent, “Outlaw Country” is an anthem for anyone who ever believed in love and community over corruption and power. But rather than a callback, Earl’s music is of and for the next generation of ne’er-do-wells and dreamers living on the fringes, hoping for something better.

Earl grew up in Lake Charles, Louisiana, where he split his time between separated parents. Chafing at the craven habits of money and influence that he witnessed from his father, a powerful local lawyer, Earl preferred the warmth and love he felt in the house his mother shared with his grandmother. (Despite a rocky childhood, Earl’s now building a relationship with his dad.)

“I was living in poverty on one side and then I was living in opulence on the other side, and the poverty side is where I wanted to be, because that’s where all the love was,” Earl says. “I’m so lucky to have that, to be able to have identified where love was at a young age and identify where my soul felt good.”

Earl’s mother showed him how to seek joy and adventure, filling life with road trips and camping weekends. When he was just five years old, Earl’s mother plopped a map in his lap and taught him to navigate. Perpetually tight on money and resources and mired in an enduring custody battle with his father, she nonetheless taught him how to get away from it all, instilling in him a curiosity about the world. On the road, they stopped to check out historical markers, explored parks and rivers and the Gulf Coast, and watched giant boats come in while picnicking along the Intracoastal Waterway.

“That developed a sense of wonder and being like, ‘I don’t fucking need money to feel this type of happiness, to feel this sense of joy and adventure and love of life, just life in its purest form,” Earl says, choking up. (He firmly believes more men should cry, and that it helps him be more humane.)

“Her sense of adventure, her true passion for living, it’s amazing to me; it still is amazing to me.”

The album’s title and thematic heart – level-headed even smile – are derived from that approach to living life fully. For Earl, it’s an essential mechanism of coping and connecting. Remain engaged in the world and aware of all its horrors and tragedies, he says, but then, when it gets to be too much, know when and how to take a break:

Some nights I’m crying on the backroads
Rolling my smoke backwards
Trying to keep a level-headed even smile
Don’t you know I might take a while to get there
Just hoping I get anywhere
Trying to keep a little level-headed even smile

“At some point we’ve got to unplug from the fucking screen and just go explore things that are fucking real, like the trees around us, or the grass, or the water, or the sun or the moon, and try to get in touch with that more primal sense of ourselves,” Earl says. “That is where we can really most quickly and most efficiently achieve happiness, it’s getting in touch with the simplest form of ourselves.”

Beside the love from his mother, Earl describes himself as a depressed kid who struggled in school and wanted desperately to escape his hometown and father and stepmother. At 15, he convinced his father to send him to boarding school which, in part because of Hurricane Katrina’s devastation of Louisiana, ended up being in rural Arkansas. At the Subiaco Abbey and Academy, Earl studied with monks who’d taken a vow of poverty and offered rigorous, benevolent study, kindness, and care. Though he’s an atheist, Earl counts the monks, whom he visits regularly, as mentors, connecting with them still through shared spirituality.

“We all fucking showed up pissed off as hell. And we found love and we found love amongst each other; we found love from those monks and found nature,” Earl says, reverently, of his time at Subiaco. “It saved my fucking life. The whole thing; I found joy and happiness for the first time in my life.”

Level-Headed Even Smile is dedicated to Earl’s late friend, William, who was the first to befriend him at Subiaco. “He helped me clear my heart,” Earl says. As he sings of those halcyon days on “Two Kinds of Loner,” “We were two kinds of loner/ A misfit and a wayward son…”

Armed with the sense of wonder his mom taught him, liberated by the fallow morals of youth, and subsumed by the ready escapism afforded by their surroundings, Earl and William learned every back road. They’d steal beer from the back of William’s dad’s Crossroads Tavern and drive for hours exploring the backwoods and levees along the Arkansas River.

“William was the first to show me the country air. Hanging out with him, something about getting in that truck after class, taking off down Lile Ridge Road, cracking a beer, putting on whatever weird music he was listening to at the time, that was the first sense of fucking true freedom I ever had in my life,” Earl says.

Stopping just shy of wistful, “Two Kinds of Loner” is a bittersweet, intimate portrait of the desperately important work of becoming oneself as a teenager – and of the raw beauty in forming kinship through human connection rather than blood relation:

Down where the kudzu meets the bodark
And the darkness first let go of me
High in a cab of a buddy I had
He showed me the county air
I used to not care about nothing
Because no one seemed to care for me

After high school, Earl attended Hendrix College, a liberal arts school which lived up to its name situated in Conway, Arkansas. A few years earlier, Earl borrowed his father’s old guitar – a Yamaha FG 180 Red Tag, which he still plays today – and learned enough chords to make himself useful around a bonfire and impress the local girls. Encouraged by one of the monks at Subiaco, who noticed him straying from lesson plans, Earl started writing his own music.

When he got to college, he landed feet first in a robust DIY music scene. Together with a group of friends – including Gar Hole Records cofounder and label manager Kurt DeLashmet – Earl played a circuit of local house venues: White House, Blue House, Brick House, and occasionally Shit Mansion, where both also lived for a time. To this day, their two-day, 28-band Butt Ranger music festival thrown by friends at the White House remains one of Earl’s favorite shows.

“We were drunk off our fucking asses on plastic bottle whiskey and snorting Adderall and fucking ripping cigs and shit like that. It was fucked up. It was so awesome. It was just blood and piss everywhere,” Earl says. He recalls the floor at White House buckling so deeply that by the end of the night all his gear, including his oversized amp, wound up in a pile in the middle of the floor. Volume was of primary concern, tone and other nuances distinctly secondary. “What a fucking beautiful, carnal, amazing culture to be a part of,” he says.

Two songs on Even Smile come from those early days playing music first in college and, afterwards, in Little Rock, where Earl and his band Swampbird moved. (Earl lived in Little Rock for a few years then moved to Fayetteville, where he still lives.) Both are paeans to the chaotic moil of early adulthood rendered heady and hazy by too much booze and too little grounding: “Broken Parts,” which he first recorded with Swampbird, and “Little Rock Bottom,” about his time in Arkansas’ capital city.

“I don’t really quite realize it until I am talking about it, how much of my life and my story is wound up into that album,” Earl, who’s now in his mid-30s, admits. The album feels like a fitting way to process and close that chapter of life. “I do feel like I’ve left it on the table and I’ve left it all out on the field, so to speak.”

In total, Even Smile is a loving, layered depiction of both Arkansas specifically and the south in general. Among his many influences, Earl includes Arkansas gonzo poet Frank Stanford (who also attended Subiaco and whose burial there Lucinda Williams memorialized in her song, “Pineola”). Stanford’s realism and wild abandon creep into Earl’s songwriting sensibilities; they share a love of the South and its complexities and a reverence for and dedication to illuminating those stories.

Alongside a few cheeky disquisitions on life on the fringes – including road dog ode “Get In The Truck” – throughout the album Earl relishes the beauty of his home territory. Perhaps nowhere more-so than on “High On The Ouachitas,” an extended soliloquy on the wild beauty of the mountain range, his chosen retreat for a reset and solace:

When I’m high on Ouachita
High as I ever saw the Arkansas
With goldenrod and reindeer lichen
Twist flowers in bloom
There’s just no place
I’d rather waste my afternoons
Than high on Ouachita

“I love it so fucking much, because I know all of the nuance and I know all the beauty that’s deep underneath all of the stereotypes. And just how fascinatingly complex our communities are,” Earl says. “It’s fucking beautiful. You have two and a half million acres of national forest. So we have the cleanest drinking water in America; we have endless amounts of outdoor recreation; the food is fucking kick ass; the people are the sweetest ever.”

Earl rounded out Level-Headed Even Smile with two very on-theme cover songs: beloved Arkansas folksinger Jimmy Driftwood’s “White River Valley,” a love letter to Arkansas’s pastoral beauty, and Utah Phillips’ peripatetic wanderer’s lament, “Rock me to Sleep,” which concludes the album. Together they bracket the glib “Lawn Chair,” written with Cameron Duddy and Jonathan Terrell.
Earl jokes when playing the song live that it might be the worst song he’s ever written. And superficially it sounds like the kind of redneck anthem that might confirm the uneducated listener’s worst stereotypes about uncouth Arkansans. “It’s a whipass life just being me/ It don’t cost much to be the free/ I got my lawn chair/ And I’m sitting on top of the world.” Yet the song is also a sly rebuke against taking everything too seriously. Convivial in its roughness, it’s a gleeful, carefree reminder of the many ways to keep a level-headed even smile.

“If I’m feeling bogged down and feeling depressed, oftentimes it has nothing to do with the task at hand, it’s just that I’ve been absorbing how terrible the fucking world is and it makes me incapable of interacting and interfacing with my immediate world, because I’m so fucking caught up in that goddamn bullshit… and it is not allowing you to reach your full potential as a biological piece of anatomy that is somehow living on this planet,” Earl says.

“[A level-headed even smile is] an attempt to focus on your humanness and try to reattach yourself to the earth and detach from the problems of the earth; and just go out and find your smile. Go find your joy amongst all the fucking evil.”

Photo Credit: Justin Cook

Classic Country
Is Here to Stay

Posted on by Justin Hiltner

With a new generation boasting unapologetic traditional influence, there’s more classic-sounding country in the mainstream today than in many years before. With his second album, When I Write the Song, Jake Worthington captures one specific aspect of honky-tonk history better than the rest – its sense of humor.

That’s definitely not to say Worthington’s new album is a joke. Far from it. Over 14 songs, the Texas native sinks down into the depths of sorrow and lets his heart believe in miracles all the same. His love of the classic country form is just as authentic as his barrel-chested vocal twang, and with producers Jon Randall and Chuck Ainley joining his team, it gets highlighted with more sincerity than ever. But right from the opening track, Worthington walks in the footsteps of artists like Johnny Paycheck or Jerry Reed; his down-home demeanor is as country as it gets.

Meanwhile, the solo-written title track is almost alarmingly personal and Worthington welcomes Miranda Lambert, Marty Stuart, and Mae Estes as special guests on other tracks. When I Write the Song arrived on September 12 and by touring through the end of the year with both Jon Pardi and Zach Top, Worthington adds even more evidence of an ongoing trad renaissance.

Good Country spoke with Worthington about writing the way he lives and chasing honky-tonk inspiration farther than ever. Plus, he reveals a secret appreciation fans might not suspect.

For fans who don’t necessarily know, you have always been a proud purveyor of the classic country arts. I think that’s pretty fair to say. Are fans going to get more of that on this record or what?

Jake Worthington: Damn right. Yes, sir. I guess that whole narrative don’t ever really change for me. I don’t ever want to make any other kind of music. When somebody listens to a record that I am a part of or put together, I hope they can have a definitive direction to point to and say “That’s what country music sounds like.”

I think that comes across for sure. Now, it’s good timing because there’s kind of a little traditional renaissance going on in the mainstream. Do you agree with that?

Damn right. Absolutely. I’ve never been more inspired in terms of our genre than I am right now. I think a lot of people are writing and singing and recording great country music and I think that folks of all ages are wanting to hear it. Another thing, too, is I don’t think it’s a fad of any sort. I find it interesting – you hear terms like “traditional” or the whole “’90s” deal or whatever. To me, it’s just country music getting made in 2025. I think that’s really exciting, to know that’s the case. It wasn’t like that just a couple years ago.

So you don’t think it’s people cosplaying country?

I know it’s genuine for me. I can’t control what other people do, but hey, if they want to play dress up, that don’t bother me none. I think it’s good for country music. I’m glad that they’re wanting to dress like a grownup.

One thing that I’ve always loved about classic country itself, and something that you do well on this record, is to have a touch of humor. That’s not around as much anymore, but you do that well.

Well, I think it’s funny. I have always struggled with the idea that I never wanted to not be taken serious as a singer or songwriter, but I still like to have fun. I still cut up and it ain’t all rain and storms all the time. I think country music allows room for all of that. There’s definitely a couple songs on this record that is lighthearted, and I guess I was all right with that.

There’s definitely some hardcore heartbreak in here, but the reason I ask is because of the opening track, “It Ain’t the Whiskey.” There are not many songs about getting pulled over and accused of a DUI these days – even fewer that are fun.

Well, some of us write from the research department, I guess. Unfortunately, I was just trying to make light of what was a really shitty situation for me at one point in time in my life. I’ve made some dumb decisions in my adolescence, I guess. That was a good way to look back and laugh at it.

How about “Two First Names”? This one reminds me of a little bit of Joe Diffie and the way he was able to merge classic country and a funny line.

Well, shoot man, thanks. That’s just about a country girl. I’ve got a handful of women I know and love in my life that got two first names and I love that we got away with writing it without ever saying an actual name. … There wasn’t one of us that wrote that song who ain’t from the country, and we’ve all got women we love and know that got two first names. We all love a country girl.

Hell yeah. Now, one thing about this record, you definitely got to work with some big names. You got Jon Randall and Chuck Ainley helping out on production, along with Joey Moi. I wonder with those two guys specifically, Jon and Chuck, did they help you move your sound or your style forward?

Definitely I think. There’s four tracks that I recorded top to bottom with Chuck and Jon … there’s a lot of really awesome things that I got to do through working with Joey. But I think for me, I wasn’t ever totally happy with the way things were ending up sonically. That was my biggest change that I was after, was just kind of where it landed sonically.

Really?

Especially with the vocal. I’m a very imperfect singer. I’m not a perfect singer. I want that to be heard. I don’t want to be masked.

Joey’s amazing, but he definitely comes from a different world sonically, right?

Yeah, and I wanted to work with guys that were making country records that inspired me. But again, I tracked nine of them songs with Joey and man, I love all of it. Chuck wound up mixing the record and Jon come in when we went to track the last four songs and it’s been a dream come true. I get to work with my heroes, man.

You also got to work with Miranda Lambert [plus Marty Stuart and Mae Estes]. Tell me about doing “Hello Shitty Day” with Miranda, it’s a cool broken-hearted waltz. Did you guys get to know each other?

Sure. I mean, I know it sounds a little simple, but she had texted me the song and I asked if I could cut it. She said yes and I said, “Would you sing on it?” And she said, “Hell yes,” so by God, that’s what we did. I don’t know, man. I wasn’t trying to get on the radio with that song. I just thought it was brilliant. I love that song.

One thing I’ve got to ask you, since this is BGS. Do you have any ties to bluegrass, or was that ever a part of what you listened to?

Where I’m from, oddly enough down there in Southeast Texas, we had to go find that stuff. There’s nooks and crannies in East Texas where these cats kinda start out in bluegrass and I think they find it through gospel music and stuff like that. But I wasn’t in the church or nothing – I was baptized in beer and I’m here to testify, you hear me?

Ha!

The great words of Kevin Fowler. But a lot of the stuff I loved the most was coming out of Ohio. When I discovered Dave Evans, that shit knocked me out.

Really?

Oh gosh. There’s something called “99 Years [Is Almost for Life].” One day I’d like to record it, but I understand that bluegrass is just as sacred as country music, so if you’re going to do it, you got to do it right and I think it starts with putting your heart and soul in it.

But I always loved Ralph Stanley. I’ve always loved Flatt & Scruggs and Bill Monroe. I mean, that might sound a little standard, but I love that stuff. Harley Allen’s one of my favorite songwriters and his daddy, Red Allen, I love the records he done. Ronnie Bowman and Lonesome River Band. I like that stuff.

Short answer – yes, sir. Hell yes. I love bluegrass.

That’s amazing. It sounds like you’re deep into it. I mean, maybe it doesn’t show up too much in what you’re doing right now, but maybe one day you ought to do a bluegrass record.

Oh, man. We’ll see, but right now all I want to do is what sounds like country music to me. I think it’s a matter of if you got electrics on it or not. It’s just soul music. It’s gotta come from the heart.

That’s a good segue because I wanted to ask you about the title track, “When I Write the Song,” and writing that solo. You were able to share your pain quite a bit. Where did that come from?

I don’t always wind up writing by myself. I think a lot of us writers sit down and try, and if we could, we would write a lot by ourselves. But that one just kind of fell out. I’d been six, seven years in [to my career] and I don’t know, I think I was a little hurt and kind of angry. I got a whole lot of, “You can’t sing that kind of music. That ain’t never going to work.” Sad songs and waltzes and whatnot. I don’t know why it’s so easy to write about the hard things or the bad things. It seems to be easier than it is to write about the good things sometimes. That’s just kind of where I was at with it.

When I wrote it, I was headed home from some gig and at the time I had been staying at my parents’. They had just got one of them push button door locks to the house with a code on it and I did not remember the damn code. There wasn’t no way I was getting in the house, so I had a guitar and a six pack of beer, a back porch, and plenty of time.

You’re kidding.

That’s what come out of that. I sat on that song for a long time. I was kind of scared of it. I wasn’t sure if it was for anybody. I wasn’t sure if it was any good. But I’m a songwriter and I think that’s just my way of showing it.

That’s real country music to me, so thank you for sharing the story. It’s funny that you got locked out – almost feels meant to be.

I’ve been locked out of a lot of things, hoss.

You’re going to be out on the road with Zach Top and Jon Pardi, right? In their own way, they both definitely inject some classic country into the mainstream, too. Are those tours a good fit for you?

Damn right, man. You tell me anywhere else, you’re going to see three steel guitars and three fiddle players in one stage. … I’m a fan of both of them guys and they know it, and I revere and respect the hell out of them. I’m grateful to get to go work with ‘em. That’s going to be a lot of band, buddy.

All right, Jake, thanks for the time, man. Let me leave you with the big picture. Just tell me what you hope people get from this record.

Well, take away a little piece of my heart while I’m giving it to you. Country music’s here to stay and I don’t think it ever left. I’m just grateful to be a little spoke in the wheels and I hope that when they hear this record, it’s something that they can go to and say, “This is what country music sounds like.”

Photo Credit: Jim Wright

CMA Awards
Nominations Are Here

Posted on by Justin Hiltner

On Monday, September 8, 2025 the Country Music Association announced the nominees for the 59th Annual CMA Awards. With six nods a piece, country stars Lainey Wilson, Megan Moroney, and Ella Langley tied each other for the lead in total nominations at the longest-running country music awards show. The CMA Awards will be broadcast live from Nashville’s Bridgestone Arena on Wednesday, November 19 at 8 p.m. EST on ABC and will be available to stream the next day on Hulu.

Following Wilson, Moroney, and Langley in nominations is a quickly rising star at the very top of most listeners’ minds these days, Zach Top, who will vie for awards in the Single of the Year, Album of the Year, Song of the Year, Male Vocalist of the Year, and New Artist of the Year categories. Fiddler Jenee Fleenor, a five-time winner of Musician of the Year, is nominated again in the category this year, alongside guitarists Brent Mason, Rob McNelley, and Derek Wells and pedal steel genius Paul Franklin.

In addition to Top and Fleenor other notable nominees from the bluegrass and Americana worlds include the War and Treaty (Vocal Duo of the Year), Chris Stapleton (Entertainer of the Year, Male Vocalist of the Year, Music Video of the Year), and the Red Clay Strays (Vocal Group of the Year).

Shaboozey is nominated for the second year in a row for New Artist of the Year, and relative newcomer to the genre Post Malone gained two nominations this year (remarkably, one less nomination than in 2024), for F-1 Trillion (Album of the Year) and “Pour Me A Drink” featuring Blake Shelton (Musical Event of the Year).

It’s clear that whatever your preferred subspecies of country music, this year’s batch of nominees for the CMA Awards holds more than enough variety to satisfy your tastes. From the most polished radio-ready pop country to gristly full-bore rock and roll, from high femme glamor bops to ’90s vocals (and of course the hairstyles, too), there’s plenty of Good Country to be found among this year’s nominations.

Find the full list of nominees for the 59th Annual CMA Awards below:

ENTERTAINER OF THE YEAR

Luke Combs
Cody Johnson
Chris Stapleton
Morgan Wallen
Lainey Wilson

SINGLE OF THE YEAR

“4x4xU” – Lainey Wilson
Producer: Jay Joyce
Mix Engineers: Jason Hall, Jay Joyce

“Ain’t No Love In Oklahoma” – Luke Combs
Producers: Luke Combs, Chip Matthews, Jonathan Singleton
Mix Engineer: Chip Matthews

“Am I Okay?” – Megan Moroney
Producer: Kristian Bush
Mix Engineer: Justin Niebank

“I Never Lie” – Zach Top
Producer: Carson Chamberlain
Mix Engineer: Matt Rovey

“you look like you love me” – Ella Langley & Riley Green
Producer: Will Bundy
Mix Engineer: Jim Cooley

ALBUM OF THE YEAR

Am I Okay? – Megan Moroney
Producer: Kristian Bush
Mix Engineer: Justin Niebank

Cold Beer & Country Music – Zach Top
Producer: Carson Chamberlain
Mix Engineer: Matt Rovey

F-1 Trillion – Post Malone
Producers: Louis Bell, Charlie Handsome, Hoskins
Mix Engineer: Ryan Gore

I’m The Problem – Morgan Wallen
Producers: Jacob Durrett, Charlie Handsome, Joey Moi
Mix Engineers: Charlie Handsome, Joey Moi

Whirlwind – Lainey Wilson
Producer: Jay Joyce
Mix Engineers: Jason Hall, Jay Joyce

SONG OF THE YEAR

“4x4xU”
Songwriters: Jon Decious, Aaron Raitiere, Lainey Wilson

“Am I Okay?”
Songwriters: Jessie Jo Dillon, Luke Laird, Megan Moroney

“I Never Lie”
Songwriters: Carson Chamberlain, Tim Nichols, Zach Top

“Texas”
Songwriters: Johnny Clawson, Josh Dorr, Lalo Guzman, Kyle Sturrock

“you look like you love me”
Songwriters: Riley Green, Ella Langley, Aaron Raitiere

FEMALE VOCALIST OF THE YEAR

Kelsea Ballerini
Miranda Lambert
Ella Langley
Megan Moroney
Lainey Wilson

MALE VOCALIST OF THE YEAR

Luke Combs
Cody Johnson
Chris Stapleton
Zach Top
Morgan Wallen

VOCAL GROUP OF THE YEAR

Lady A
Little Big Town
Old Dominion
Rascal Flatts
The Red Clay Strays

VOCAL DUO OF THE YEAR

Brooks & Dunn
Brothers Osborne
Dan + Shay
Maddie & Tae
The War And Treaty

MUSICAL EVENT OF THE YEAR

“Don’t Mind If I Do” – Riley Green (featuring Ella Langley)
Producers: Scott Borchetta, Jimmy Harnen, Dann Huff

“Hard Fought Hallelujah” – Brandon Lake with Jelly Roll
Producer: Micah Nichols

“I’m Gonna Love You” – Cody Johnson (with Carrie Underwood)
Producer: Trent Willmon

“Pour Me A Drink” – Post Malone (feat. Blake Shelton)
Producers: Louis Bell, Charlie Handsome

“You Had To Be There” – Megan Moroney (feat. Kenny Chesney)
Producer: Kristian Bush

MUSICIAN OF THE YEAR

Jenee Fleenor – Fiddle
Paul Franklin – Steel Guitar
Brent Mason – Guitar
Rob McNelley – Guitar
Derek Wells – Guitar

MUSIC VIDEO OF THE YEAR

“Am I Okay?” – Megan Moroney
Directors: Alexandra Gavillet, Megan Moroney

“I’m Gonna Love You” – Cody Johnson (with Carrie Underwood)
Director: Dustin Haney

“Somewhere Over Laredo” – Lainey Wilson
Director: TK McKamy

“Think I’m In Love With You” – Chris Stapleton
Director: Running Bear

“you look like you love me” – Ella Langley & Riley Green
Directors: Ella Langley, John Park, Wales Toney

NEW ARTIST OF THE YEAR

Ella Langley
Shaboozey
Zach Top
Tucker Wetmore
Stephen Wilson Jr.

Photo Credit: Lainey Wilson by Cece Dawson.

You Gotta Hear This: New Music From Olivia Ellen Lloyd, Kora Feder, and More

Posted on by Justin Hiltner

Happy New Year! Our very first New Music Friday of 2025 brings our very first premiere roundup of the new year, too. We’re so excited to dive into another 12 months’ worth of superlative Americana, country, folk, bluegrass, old-time, and more.

Don’t miss a brand new track from critically acclaimed singer-songwriter Kora Feder, who debuts “Rambling Man” from her upcoming album, Some Kind of Truth. Her voice shines, crystalline and pure above a warm and crisp folk-rock-meets-Americana backing track. It’s a song about gender, wanderlust, expectations, and inhabiting agency – freedom.

Next, West Virginian (via Brooklyn) folk artist Olivia Ellen Lloyd brings us a lyric video for the title track for her highly anticipated 2025 record, Do It Myself. Staying within our coincidental theme of agency and autonomy, “Do It Myself” celebrates Lloyd’s self determination and self possession with her particular agnostic West Virginian blend of roots genres and styles. It’s indie, folk, Americana, country, and string band all wrapped up into one tidy, charming musical package.

To wrap up our first premiere collection of the year, don’t miss our latest Good Country Goodtime session from our debut GC variety show in Los Angeles last September. The latest installment of our exclusive clips from the show features “garage country” artist and songwriter Aubrie Sellers offering her stellar take on a country classic, “Make the World Go Away.” That voice!

You can find all this incredible music below and, honestly – You Gotta Hear This! Happy new year, happy new music.

Kora Feder, “Rambling Man”

Artist: Kora Feder
Hometown: Detroit, Michigan
Song: “Rambling Man”
Album: Some Kind of Truth
Release Date: January 3, 2025 (single); March 18, 2025 (album)

In Their Words: “‘Rambling Man’ is about self confidence as quiet rebellion. It’s about gender and beauty standards, about the feeling of achieving freedom from expectation and self-suppression. It’s the kind of song that can fuel a solo drive or inspire barefoot dance sessions in the kitchen. I hope that it is as empowering to listen to as it was to make.” – Kora Feder

Track Credits:
Paul Mayer – Piano, drums
Justin Farren – Guitar, bass, pads
Written by Kora Feder
Mixed by Justin Farren
Mastered by Eric Broyhill

Olivia Ellen Lloyd, “Do It Myself”

Artist: Olivia Ellen Lloyd
Hometown: Shepherdstown, West Virginia
Song: “Do It Myself”
Album: Do It Myself
Release Date: January 3, 2025 (single); March 21, 2025 (album)

In Their Words: “When I sing this song, I think of the Rilke poem, ‘Archaic Torso of Apollo.’ To me, that poem summarizes how art can move someone into action, and how we can be perceived by our creations just as we perceive them. I had memorized that poem over a decade ago for a speech class in undergrad, and on the day I sat down to write ‘Do It Myself,’ the last lines, ‘For here there is no place that cannot see you. You must change your life,’ came to me like a meditation.

“At many points over the almost two-year process of making this record, I had no idea how I was going to take the next step, pay for the next expense, or reach the next milestone. But I had a song that insisted that I could, I would – do it myself. So I kept moving, slowly at times, until it was complete. And every so often, at various stages of creating this album, I would play this song – first the bounce, then the rough mix, then drafts of the final mix – and dance around my apartment in Brooklyn. As if to remind myself that I could do it. Even if I didn’t know how (yet).” – Olivia Ellen Lloyd

The Good Country Goodtime: Aubrie Sellers

On September 27, Good Country and BGS debuted our brand new variety show, the Good Country Goodtime, at Dynasty Typewriter in Los Angeles. The inaugural show was hosted by country and bluegrass singer-songwriter Robbie Fulks and featured appearances by artists Victoria Bailey and Aubrie Sellers as well as a hilarious set by comedian and actor Kurt Braunohler. Backing up the talent was our first class Goodtime house band led by the Coral Reefers’ Mick Utley.

For our second installment in our series of clips from the September edition of the show, “garage country” artist and singer-songwriter Aubrie Sellers offers an incredible cover of a country classic, “Make the World Go Away.” Sellers is a fascinating roots artist with a deep and broad country and Americana pedigree. Her music combines so many genres – indie, folk, rock and roll, grunge, and blues blend effortlessly with bona fide old country chops and pop-meets-countrypolitan glamor. But here, on the Dynasty Typewriter stage, her rendition of the indispensable Hank Cochran-penned hit is remarkably simple and down-to-earth.

Read more here.

Photo Credit: Kora Feder by Anna Barber; Olivia Ellen Lloyd by Aaron May.

‘Welcome to the Plains’ and to the Red Dirt Universe of Wyatt Flores

Posted on by Justin Hiltner

Each year, the country music machine and its many fans and acolytes turn over, again and again and again, the quintessential question of “What is authenticity?” We’ve asked that very question quite a few times on Good Country over the last year ourselves, and we know as long as roots music and folk music are made, listeners will continue to ponder what is or isn’t “real,” “raw,” or… “authentic.”

Wyatt Flores has been chosen as authentic. Country Music has spoken, and this quickly skyrocketing young artist has been riding a wave lately surfed by folks like Sierra Ferrell, Tyler Childers, Colter Wall, and Zach Top. Like these real country “poster children,” Flores’ music is realistic and grounded. It isn’t idealized revisionism in outlaw trappings. His songs never attempt to sugarcoat or mythologize, paving over the complications of rural life, red dirt realness, or the gritty patina of a rural places – like his homeland of Oklahoma.

Flores’ new album, Welcome to the Plains, is decidedly and delightfully trad country with nearly universal critical and listener acclaim. He currently racks up 3.5 million streams a month on Spotify alone, bolstered by a series of incredibly popular and consistently viral singles and EPs leading up to this, his full-length debut. For so many writers, diehard fans, and critics, Flores has long been “one to watch,” but that visibility stretches further and wider, to listeners across the country and around the world from so many different backgrounds and starting points.

Part of the reason why such a young artist with a relatively nascent career could have already amassed such a coalition of followers is that realistic, unguarded, “I know who I am, even though I’m still figuring out where I’m going” approach. It’s evident in his artistry, his performing prowess, and his skill for songwriting – all of which are evidenced prominently across this album.

Welcome to the Plains is one of the most remarkable records of 2024; it continues a tone long set in Flores’ career and music, even before this current inflection point and its substantial momentum. Wyatt Flores is bound for longevity, for many more successes, for many more millions of plays, as long as he remains exactly who he is: Wyatt Flores.

Your music has such a strong sense of place, so I wanted to start by talking about Oklahoma and growing up there. You’re down to earth in the way that you talk about Oklahoma from the beginning of the album, from the first notes of the title track. You’re viewing it in a very realistic way, not just in an idealized way. Can you talk about how Oklahoma inspired the album and what “home” means to you?

Wyatt Flores: When you think about Oklahoma, you have to [barely] scratch the surface to know that the history behind it is pretty screwed up, how Oklahoma came about, and we’re not one of the best states, if that makes sense? We’re 49th in education. And we’ve got a lot of people from California moving there just because it’s cheaper and everything else, but to live in Oklahoma, you gotta bear through the weather.

Then also, every year is a coin toss if things are going to grow, right? This year’s been a struggle up until this past couple of weeks, [during] which we just got like a foot of rain. But yeah, it’s been one of the hardest places to really build. And the people are so damn nice in Oklahoma, but it’s a tough place to live. Most people don’t want it. But I love it. “Welcome to the Plains,” it’s trying to describe [Oklahoma] … in the verses I really wanted to try and find more of a nature side to it, and then by the chorus just really tell the truth about it.

It feels really authentic and grounded, but you can still hear that you love Oklahoma in it, too. I think that’s a really interesting combination. Country is really good at rural America propaganda – and I love rural America, so I’m for it, to a degree – but to me, your album doesn’t feel like it has to close an eye to the history of Oklahoma to love it.

Yeah, it was a fun journey to try. I was sitting there just trying not to write songs about the road, because that was the only thing that I was doing. I was like, “This is the only life I’m living.” And not many people know what it’s like to be on a bus or on tour – at that time we were still in the van. It was more so daydreaming about home, missing the place, and then just trying to find the memories to piece everything together.

And I had a lot of weird influences, like “Little Town,” I was really trying to find the same feeling as listening to “Pink Houses” by John Mellencamp. I don’t write too many happy songs, and I was not in a good headspace in that time period. For some reason, I guess I was just daydreaming of a better life, and I kept writing about home, but in a different format of not always missing it.

Another song that really captures this topic is “Stillwater.” I love that it has this sort of dark, contemplative tinge and it feels gritty. Could talk a little bit about writing “Stillwater” and about your relationship with “home” and the construction of “home”? That’s such a country tradition as well, not just talking about home and missing it, but understanding that home is a nebulous, intangible thing, even if it literally exists.

There’s a lot of bands that say they come from Stillwater, but they really just started in Stillwater and they came from a different area, since it is a college town. But I was born and raised there in Stillwater. All my life the college has been my backyard. When I wrote that song in the summer of ’22, I had my guitar player with me and my fiddle player’s husband and we sat down to write that. It was more so just trying to give people a different perspective on what it’s like to actually grow up in a college town, because it’s a vicious cycle of the same shit – like, no one else sees it, because they’re living inside of the four years of going [to college].

And me also being a college dropout, I never got to actually go to [Oklahoma State University]. I went to OSUIT in Okmulgee, Oklahoma. And that did not last long. [Laughs] But yeah, I was like, “No one’s ever actually talked shit on a hometown and actually put the name in it.” So I was just being ballsy with it. I had to change quite a few lyrics, because I kind of went a little too far. I probably would have pissed a lot of people off.

The song was intentional. I don’t know, [I wanted to] make people think differently. Because that is my home. A lot of times, you just see people take advantage of the town, and the town keeps growing. Every single time I come back home now, there’s another chicken place and another damn car wash. I was like, “How many do we need?” Good lord. I was really pissed off in the mindset of it. I’m glad that we captured it, because for a while, I was scared to release it just because I was like, “People are gonna think that I hate Stillwater.” But really, it’s still a love song towards it.

It feels like you’re loving Stillwater, you’re loving Oklahoma, but your love for it requires you to look at it through an accurate lens and not an idealized version of it.

And it’s a relationship. My relationship with that town has just been back and forth. You’ll have that resentment, and you’ll have that frustration with it, but you still love it. It’s crazy to think about it that way, through that lens, but that’s what it is.

You touched on your co-writing process and I was excited to see how forward your own writing and your own perspective is on this album. Can you describe your co-writing and collaboration process for these songs? I noticed, too, that Ketch Secor co-wrote the title track.

When I wrote with Ketch, that was super cool. ‘Cause I had just gotten done watching Killers of the Flower Moon. I was already so inspired by that and wanting to really speak some truth. But not just by absolutely laying into people on the bad shit that’s going on – you can’t force-feed people. When we sat down [to write, Ketch] said that he wanted to write shit about Oklahoma and I was like, “That works out great!” The song just came together and it was it’s one of the coolest things, because I didn’t know how to feel about it quite yet. I was like, “This has some good shit in there…” and then when we went to record it, I was like, “Here it is! This is the way it’s supposed to go.”

But with the writing of this entire album, I was scared shitless. I didn’t think I was good enough, and I didn’t think these songs were good enough for an album. I started overthinking the entire thing. People can get mad at me all they want for doing co-writes, but I’m still writing. It’s not like I just sit in there and wait for these people to write these songs for me. This is all me.

The other thing is, my music taste [has] so much variety that I think it’s only better if I sit down with other people that have other strengths, to get to where I want to go – into these different styles of songs. I don’t want to do the same song, different chords, you know what I’m saying? I wanted it to be so unique and to keep it the way that I’ve always done it, which is to have different styles of songs. For that, I feel like you have to have different songwriters come in and give you different pieces.

I also have to ask you about bluegrass. One of the first things that we shared on our site of yours was a Tyler Childers cover that you recorded with Sierra Hull at Red Rocks. Our audience loved it so much. I think part of why your music resonates across diehard country fans to indie fans to bluegrass fans is that you’re not just a performer and a songwriter, but you’re a picker, too. What is your relationship like with bluegrass music? Is it something that’s prominent in your listening and in your influence?

So, I will first and foremost say this: I am not that good of a picker. [Laughs]

That stuff, that is something that I love. That is a different art. That is so beautiful. But my love for it– everyone in Oklahoma started listening to Tyler Childers and that’s when he came around, I want to say in my high school days. That’s when everything took a shift. I was like, “I don’t know what this is…” because we all grew up listening to red dirt [country], which is what I am. But my influence has really changed. In the summer of ‘22, Laurel Cove Music Festival was the first time that I had seen Nicholas Jamerson, Charles Wesley Godwin, Sierra Ferrell, Cole Chaney. That changed everything for me. It changed the entire way that I looked at music, and from that point on I started listening to every single one of those artists. It just led to more.

I love bluegrass and I try to have a couple songs [in that style], but I can’t call myself bluegrass. As much as I love what they’re doing and I try, I have my influences, I’m still red dirt. The way that those artists do what they do, it’s because they are them. I have my influences, but I am still just me. So whatever comes out, it’s just me loving and respecting it. But I can’t fully call myself a bluegrass musician, because I’m not. I’m jealous of it though, I’ll tell you that much. I’m jealous, I wish!

The production style and the different aesthetics that you’re utilizing on the album feel like classic country and old country plus dashes of country & western. There are moments that are really rocking and there are moments that are really subdued. It’s also really modern and crisp. How much of that is coming from you or from the ensemble and how much is coming from your producer, Beau Bedford?

A lot of that was Beau. I learned so much from him. [Before,] I really didn’t ever get the experience of being in a studio with musicians that are just wizards. Beau really took care of me.

It was a challenge, because we recorded in three different places. We were in Nashville, in North Carolina, in LA, and then we finished in Nashville. We were scared that it wasn’t gonna flow together, being in these different studios and then also just having this [group] of songs. Luckily, it all came together and as different as they do sound, they still flow. That was all just luck. We’re all we’re all sitting there going, “Huh? Hope this goes right!” I had my doubts, too, and [Beau] goes, “Wyatt, everything’s gonna be all right, because you are the main character that runs through this entire thing.”

That’s the constant throughout the entire project. I’m just lucky that it worked. When you go from different styles of songs – red dirt, and then you got this beachy [thing], old-time. It’s just crazy how they all go along together. Then it goes into this weird psychedelic rock and “Falling Sideways.” It was a wild adventure, and I’m so grateful for it. I just can’t believe the way that it turned out.

I ask this last question often, especially with people like yourself who are so effortlessly traditional country. There are a lot of folks out there who are excited about you – and artists like Zach Top and Tyler Childers and Zach Bryan – because these listeners sense that there’s this “new movement” that’s going to save country music, that’s going to renew country. That country is going to be what it used to be before “murder on Music Row.”

I wondered what your thoughts and feelings are on that paradigm? Because I sense that you don’t care so much about what is or isn’t traditional or what is or isn’t “inside” country. Does country music need to be saved? Do you see yourself as part of that saviorship? Do you care?

There’s something to be said about it, because yeah– I have my opinions about commercial country. There’s some really good songs and then I also think there’s some songs that say absolutely nothing. I guess as a songwriter, my goal is to keep writing about real shit and keep expressing myself with vulnerability. And to still write good songs.

I have a very important person in my life who’s been a mentor to me; his name’s Shane Lamb. I used to talk about writing these super-poppy melodies. And he goes, “Yeah, it’s because it’s popular music. … Who are some of your favorite artists?” We started going through Tyler Childers, early on in the days of me being in Nashville. [Shane] was like, “Listen to the fucking melody, Wyatt. It’s a pop melody. It’s for popular music. That’s why it works. But his arrangement is country.”

And I was like, “Oh… when you think about it that way, yeah, I guess you’re right.” So, I do try to have poppy melodies as much as I can, but I still try and keep my verses very needy, if that makes sense. I like putting a whole bunch of detail and really trying to focus in on the verses and let the chorus speak for itself.

That’s so perfectly put; yes, country has always been popular music. It’s one of my favorite Tyler Mahan Coe quotes, the creator of Cocaine and Rhinestones, the podcast and the book. He talks regularly about how country music has always been popular music. That’s not to say that fact absolves Music Row and Music City from all the truck and beer songs, but it certainly helps remind us that hand-wringing over “Is country music going to be okay?!” is not something that’s ever going to go away, but it’s also not something we really need to worry about.

And I think for the first time ever with social media, people are able to find new music that’s always been there. They’re just now finding out about it for the first time, because the radio stations aren’t playing it. That’s its own deal. But now they’re able to find all this new music and I feel like country is still going to be country. Like you said, when it comes to beer and truck songs, I think the thing that’s missing is them not explaining what they love about it. They’re just talking about it, not being vulnerable with it.

I think about “Drive” by damn Alan Jackson, dude. That is just talking about driving. That’s really all it is, but the sentiment is there, because it has to do with the father and the son. And then, all of a sudden, there’s the father and the daughter – that is fucking awesome country music that I still absolutely love! I wish that I could do that, like that Zach Top thing. I told him that whenever I met him, I was like, “Dude, I wish I could do it.” I really do. ‘Cause he’s fucking killing it. There’s so many different styles of music and I’d rather just do what I want to do, which is all of them, rather than just settle for one sound.

Photo Credit: Natalie Rhea

Good Country Goodtime Variety Show Returns to LA’s Dynasty Typewriter December 1

Posted on by Shelby Williamson

BGS and Good Country are so excited to continue our one-of-a-kind, brand new variety show, The Good Country Goodtime, at premier Los Angeles venue Dynasty Typewriter on December 1 at 7:30pm! The second edition of the event – which features the best in country, Americana, and roots music, a first-rate house band, delightful comedy, and more – will be a whimsical walk through a western winter wonderland. In-person and livestream tickets are on sale now.

Confirmed guests for the December 1 show include Jonny Fritz, purveyor and proprietor of “dad country;” the delightful Old School countrypolitan sounds of California native Kimmi Bitter; plus indie/country singer-songwriter Rett Madison, who just released her latest album, One More for Jackie; and, attendees will enjoy stories, laughs, and more from comedian and Tennessee’s own Billy Wayne Davis – who will serve as the evening’s host. The Coral Reefers’ Mick Utley will return to direct the Goodtime’s all-star house band. And, you never know which Hollywood writers, actors, and improvisers and special guests may just show up to join in the fun.

Not able to attend in person? Grab a livestream ticket, or, just hold on – our Good Country Goodtime shows are recorded by Dynasty Typewriter’s multi-camera, multi-media content capture team and we will be sharing performances, sketches, and songs from the Goodtime right here, on BGS and Good Country, in the near future. Stay tuned!

We hope you’ll join us for the December 1 edition of the Good Country Goodtime, the show’s last hurrah of 2024 – before we continue with regular monthly shows in 2025! Attendees will enjoy songs, stories, sketches, and so many surprises in store. Pull on your boots and get ready for our western winter wonderland.

Buy your tickets now for the Good Country Goodtime.

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The Cactus Blossoms’ Modern-Classic Sound Blooms on New Album

Posted on by Justin Hiltner

With a sound that’s like rain in the desert for fans of early rock and country, the Cactus Blossoms let their modern-classic vibe bloom on their latest album, Every Time I Think About You. But with pair of big shows to help celebrate the launch, this band is living very much in the present tense.

Made up of Minneapolis-based brothers Jack Torrey and Page Burkum, the duo’s new project arrives August 30 and once again captures the full, timeless magic of spacious melodies, tasteful twang, and tightly-wound harmony. That night, they’ll mark the release with a long-overdue debut at the Grand Ole Opry – where they ought to find a few like-minded fans of keeping music’s traditional cool factors alive – and then head home for a milestone gig in St. Paul.

After a trio of well-received albums and more than 10 years of riveting shows, it’s the perfect setup for a duo who seem totally at ease blurring the American roots timeline – and who promise they couldn’t fake it if they weren’t.

“I don’t think we’re very good at striving,” Torrey says, speaking from the verdant midsummer shores of Lake Superior on a much-needed break from the road. “I do think [this record] has a comfort level, especially since we’ve been able to start touring again, and really hit it. It’s been feeling like we’re a unit and we can kind of read each other’s minds a little bit.”

Speaking with BGS ahead of the release of Every Time I Think About You, Torrey and Burkum filled us in on what that telepathic bond helped create, and where it’s coming from.

A lot of Every Time I Think About You features the “modern-classic” sound you have both made a calling card – like it would sound fresh a few decades ago and today as well. But is that dangerous territory for a band? You don’t want to be pigeonholed as a throwback, right? So how do you walk the tightrope?

Jack Torrey: I think there’s an interesting aspect of that from our perspective. I got super into Bob Dylan and Hank Williams and I was singing songs by both of those guys way back, 18 years ago or whatever. Page was into Jimmie Rodgers and those other super old country things. We start singing together and it’s like if you harmonize on a Hank Williams song, it kind of starts to sound like an Everly Brothers song. You’re kind of accidentally falling into that and getting into territory that people went into 60 years ago – but it’s new for us and I think that has kind of kept happening. We’re not recreating or trying to do anything like listening to records and imitating it. It’s almost like we’re carving our own mini canyon, that resembles some of the other ones from the past.

Page Burkum: I was kind of thinking about this as a way of summing up our style and influences: The Band, The Traveling Wilburys. Those are like my four main food groups or something. I love where all those guys are coming from – a little Roy Orbison, a little Bob Dylan. They balance each other nicely. And I was thinking, when that’s your diet, you’re going to make something that comes out [like Every Time I Think About You]. … But we love other totally different kinds of music outside of that realm too, and I hope a little bit of that gets in there, too.

Where is the title track, “Every Time I Think About You,” coming from? It’s got that lovely, warm-and-fuzzy feel of a mid-century romance ballad to it, but maybe something more, too …

JT: That one is kind of a love song to losing a friend – it’s kind of a heartwarming grief, where you’re almost being consoled by the memory of someone. And that’s where that song came from. The way we wrote it, I just had a couple lines, and then Page jumped in and started singing the beginning of the chorus, and then I sang back the next line, “Every time I think about you …”

PB: Sometimes Jack and I have made fun of biopic movie scenes like in Walk the Line, where it’s like Johnny and June or whoever sit down with a guitar and they’re just writing a song in real time. Like, they sing one line and then pause dramatically, and then sing another line and then it cuts to them playing it for a thousand people or something. But in a funny way, that was kind of the closest to that. [Laughs]

JT: I was like, “I didn’t ask you to jump in and work on my song … but that’s pretty good idea. Let’s do it.”

The album kicks off with “Something’s Got a Hold On Me” – which almost has a Southern rock swagger to it. Where does that come from? Is that your Tom Petty influence showing?

PB: When I first had the idea for that one, the very original idea that set it off was actually a weird little piece of a Jimmie Rodgers song. So, I stole that line and that melody, which is about two notes or something, but it kind of inspired the whole song in a weird way. To me there’s some blend of Lead Belly and The Beatles or something in my mind, but then it ends up just sounding like a country-rock two step. That’s just what happens. It’s fun to roll with stuff. … I threw in another Jimmie Rodgers line, that “T for Texas, T for Tennessee,” to kind of keep that tribute going.

Oh that’s right, I should have known. Why did you end up finishing on “Out of My Mind (On Sunday)”? Is there a reason that seemed to wrap things up?

JT: It wasn’t a big dramatic decision, but it seemed like a nice bookend from “Something’s Got a Hold on Me” to end with being a bit of a crazy person. [Laughs]

PB: To me it actually kind of leaves the door wide open. I don’t know if you want to cap things off with the sweetest, most-concise thing you have, you know? There’s something about it that’s a little bit out there to me.

You’ll make your Grand Ole Opry debut the night this album drops. Then you’re having a big hometown party with show at Fitzgerald Theater in St. Paul [on September 13]. What does that mean to you?

PB: We’ve got one of our favorite local bands, Humbird, joining us for that [St. Paul] show, so that’ll be really cool. We’re trying to get some of our collaborators to be involved too, if we can spice it up with an extra ensemble beyond our regular band. So we’re trying to get a piano on stage or something. I mean, it’s a theater show, so it’s a little different. And it’s our first time playing our own show at this theater. It’s a really beautiful building and I never thought I’d play there when I was a kid.

JT: It’s where [A] Prairie Home Companion used to be back in the day. Page and I actually played there when we were first getting started, which was a special time. So it’s cool, and should be fun. Some people can come that don’t like to stand, since we play a lot of clubs. [Laughs]

Photo Credit: Aaron Rice

India Ramey Embodies A Phoenix Rising On ‘Baptized By The Blaze’

Posted on by Justin Hiltner

When life hands you lemons, sometimes it’s better to just burn them and start anew rather than make lemonade. That’s exactly what India Ramey does on Baptized By The Blaze, the singer’s empowering fifth album that sees her shedding the trauma that had haunted her since seeing her father abuse her mother as a child.

For years Ramey tried coping by working as a domestic violence prosecutor, but turned to music when that career fell apart in 2009 with her first album, Junkyard Angel, already in hand. Despite all the pain her father inflicted, she says her first musical memories were with him.

“He’d play Waylon Jennings and Willie Nelson’s Wanted! The Outlaws on repeat,” Ramey tells BGS. “Through that I became obsessed with Jessi Colter. I’d get my mom’s curling iron and sing her songs while standing on our living room ottoman. I always say that my dad was such a bad guy. He never gave me anything except for my love of country music.”

But as Ramey’s own career in music materialized, a 12-year dependence on the daily tranquilizer Klonopin began to rear its head. Taken to quell the panic disorder that’s lingered since first witnessing her abusive father’s actions, Ramey sought to gradually come off the drug during the pandemic before its severe withdrawal symptoms landed her in rehab. There, through stubbornness and self-determination, she was able to reclaim the power over her dependence and the trauma that caused it, vowing to never go back. Baptized By The Blaze is her journey to become a better version of herself.

“I went through a lot of stuff — a metamorphosis if you will,” says Ramey. “It was really hard and really scary, but I got so much personal empowerment out of it. Since then, I’ve been motivated to pass that on to bring folks strength and remind them that the tragedies they’ve faced give you superpowers to handle anything else life throws at you.”

Helping Ramey realize those superpowers was her therapist, a conversation with whom inspired the song “The Mountain.” According to Ramey, it occurred about a year into their sessions after something had left her in a puddle of shame and defeat. She explained how our anxiety attacks are similar to avalanches in that we don’t know the tools needed to combat them until going through it. But every time there is an avalanche you’ll have more tools and awareness to recover because you are the source, you are the mountain.

“It was the most empowering thing anyone had ever said to me in a moment where I was so vulnerable,” admits Ramey. “It left me feeling so powerful and wanted. This song is my way of spreading that beautiful message she gave to me.”

Another metaphor central to the album comes on its title track, on which Ramey compares her journey of redemption to a phoenix rising from the ashes. It was written while she “was thinking about that moment where I decided to burn it all down, to burn all of those defense mechanisms that I’d put in place to avoid confronting my trauma.” Despite its personal and well-meaning message, the song didn’t always resonate with everyone on her team though, with one person even calling the song over-dramatized. This led Ramey to shelve it for a couple years until producer Luke Wooten chose to include it on the new record.

“As artists, we’re always second guessing ourselves, so to have somebody on my own team tell me I should leave the idea behind really hurt,” Ramey confides. “Because of that, I struggled with self doubt for a long time about going all in on it, but in the end I went with my gut and I’m glad I did.”

Another example of being misunderstood and defying the expectations of others comes on “Piece Of My Mind,” a soft but stern ballad about an industry type who found out about her past working in law and said if he’d known he would just assume all her albums were vanity projects. On it, Ramey’s signature sass shines through as she urges the person to tell them their story: “Just a snapshot is all you see, you don’t know shit about me.” Before going on to describe how “I’ve fought wars and still they haunt me” and likening each day to being Halloween.

“It pissed me off, because that judgment he had was denying me my authentic story,” exclaims Ramey. “He was denying me the suffering that my family and I had gone through because of a job, so this song is me telling people exactly who I am, which is a lot more than any article or bio can capture.”

While most of the album is derived directly from Ramey’s own personal experiences, two songs that veer from that path are “Silverado” and “Down For The Count.” Both are stories about badass women living life on their own terms unburdened by the judgment and shame often delivered through patriarchal transgressions. “Silverado” details a one night stand at the motel El Dorado and “Down For The Count” highlights a streak of promiscuity to get over a past lover (“I put ten men between you and me”).

“The women I wrote about in these songs are people I think any woman will resonate with, because they’re about women doing whatever the hell they want,” she asserts. “It’s about doing things that dudes do all the time without the same level of judgment and are unapologetic about it. They’re my way of giving the middle finger to the patriarchy.”

No matter the delivery, Baptized By The Blaze charts out a journey of empowerment and recovery that is sure to provide strength and an upbeat honky-tonk soundtrack to anyone with a listening ear. It’s also proof that Ramey’s best work isn’t behind her and that her renewed focus has her poised for a bright future, despite the scars that once plagued her past.

“The process of making this record has taught me just how strong and powerful that I am, which are both things I was never convinced of beforehand,” Ramey reflects. “My hope is that it does the same for listeners and helps guide them on their own journeys.”

Photo Credit: Stacie Huckeba

Out Now: Melissa Carper

Posted on by Justin Hiltner

Melissa Carper’s new album, Borned In Ya, was released today. The album travels through stories and experiences that explore journeys of self-actualization. The songs gather many proficient and accomplished musicians – Dennis Crouch, Chris Scruggs, Jeff Taylor, Billy Contreras, Rory Hoffman, Sierra Ferrell, and more – to create a collection of sounds that are carefully shaped into a captivating work of art.

Carper stitches innovation with tradition, creating something that is new and exciting while also feeling familiar and warm. Her storytelling and authentic style shine, making her music both personal and relatable. In this interview, we dive into her new album, why she creates music, and her release and touring plans for the next year. We’re so excited to highlight this incredible artist and her new album, Borned In Ya.

What excites you most about this new album?

Melissa Carper: This is my favorite album I have made so far; the material is fresh and demonstrates an evolution in my writing and singing. I feel more confident and relaxed and many of these songs allow me to “croon.” I am excited for people to hear it and to see how they respond and how they like it. I can’t wait to take these new songs out on the road and play them for people.

How do you cultivate a balance between traditional and innovative sounds?

The traditional is easy for me, because I’ve mostly listened to older music, so those are my influences. I don’t “try” to be innovative, but I feel like having a really good grasp on roots music these days is almost innovative, in a sense. A lot of people have lost touch with that music. My goal is to bring the roots back, but perhaps with some new lyrical ideas, a unique and personal expression of pain and growth (that I hope is relatable), and combining styles that I love together. Together with the producers and musicians that I have been working with on my albums, I think we’ve taken innovative approaches to the songs as well as maintained traditional feels and sounds.

What was your experience collaborating with such an incredible team of highly skilled and accomplished musicians?

I feel so lucky to get to work with everyone you mentioned. They bring my songs to life in a way I could have never imagined. Chris [Scruggs] plays straight or console steel, rather than pedal. The straight steel is the older instrument and is perfect for most of the songs I write. Chris also played guitar, rhythm and lead, on my albums. Rory Hoffman played guitar on about half of the songs on Borned In Ya. They both did such an incredible job. I’m really in awe of all of these musicians.

Dennis Crouch is the best I’ve heard on upright bass and as an upright player, I listen to his bass parts and try to learn them. In the process of doing that I realize what a genius he is. Jeff Taylor, on piano, often sets the tone of a song and always has brilliant ideas. Billy Contreras blows my mind (and everyone else’s) with the fiddle parts and layers he comes up with. On “Lucky Five,” he really outdid himself on the fiddle solo section. Also, I had Doug Corcoran on horns for this album. He played trumpet and saxophone on five songs. Having horns on my songs is new for me, and I think that sets this album apart from the previous ones.

Rebecca Patek wrote an absolutely gorgeous string arrangement for my song, “There’ll Be Another One.” It is my favorite part of the album, when the strings come in on this song. Jenn Miori Hodges, an old bandmate of mine from The Carper Family, sings stellar harmony on several songs. It felt great to have her on this album, we have such a long history of playing together and she plays with me now quite a bit, whenever she is available. And Sierra Ferrell sings an amazing harmony on my cover of a jazz tune from the ’30s called “That’s My Desire.” Sierra actually recorded that harmony back when we were recording the Ramblin’ Soul album. I had too many songs to fit on that album, so I saved it for Borned In Ya. It is really a dream to work with all these folks and I hope I get to continue to do so. I feel like I lucked into a good thing, a formula that really works for me.

The title track, “Borned in Ya,” focuses on being shaped by life experiences. What are your thoughts on how nature (genes) versus nurture (environment) shape musical ability?

I believe, in most cases, it’s probably a lot of hard work and obsession with something you love that makes someone good at something. I definitely have musical genes in my family, but I had the advantage of my parents having me sing and play from an early age. I had a great bass teacher in junior high and high school and got to study music in college with great teachers, then I kept on learning from each band I was in. I was obsessed with old-time music – country, blues, jazz. I listened in an obsessive way until it became a part of me. I feel my learning process has been a steady, slow one, but the great thing is, I continue to grow.

This album is a compilation of stories and experiences written in song. What was it like to craft one collective album that travels through desire, love, heartbreak, life on the road, and growth?

I had a lot of fun writing the songs on this album. Three of them are co-writes with Brennen Leigh, and we always have a good time writing together. I think I’m having more fun than ever with writing and I hope people can feel that in the songs. I love having a combination of heartbreak and also some fresh romance in this album. Not everything is autobiographical of course, and I’m getting better with that – writing from imagination, pulling from some old experiences and emotions to make it real, or imagining someone else’s situation.

I would call a couple of these songs “spirituals” that go a little deeper with life philosophy. It feels good to write about something besides romantic love and to speak of spiritual growth. Hopefully people who listen find the album inspiring. I feel like Borned In Ya is an expression of some of my past and some of the present, but with a wiser and more experienced soul – more has been “borned in me.”

What’s your ideal vision for your future?

I’d love to have a great balance between performing/touring and getting to spend time at home and in nature. To me, that would be the ultimate, to feel like I’m successful enough financially so that touring doesn’t turn into a grind. I don’t mind touring, but when I’m away from home too much it makes me feel disconnected from life in general, being exhausted, not getting enough alone time to be still and to be in nature. I am in a phase currently where I need to take the opportunities offered to me, even if at times it feels like I have too much on my plate. I’d also love more time to focus on creating a nonprofit to help those who are experiencing homelessness and struggling with mental illness. I dream of creating a center with a working organic farm, providing homes and a healing atmosphere.

Why do you create music?

I get melodic and lyrical ideas in my head and they just start developing, it’s one of the most fun and rewarding things that I do in my life. Once I know I’m onto something good, I’m quite obsessive about finishing it – usually within the day if the flow is there. If it is a song that I am forcing a little, or maybe the song has something good and promising in it but isn’t ready to be fully realized yet, I’m pretty good at coming back to it, sometimes even a few years later, and finishing it when the time is right. The process is the most fun, but I also love getting to present the song to an audience. It’s rewarding in a completely different way. Being able to record the song with great musicians and producers to see what it can sound like in its ultimate form, is an especially rewarding part of the process.

What is your greatest fear?

Even the idea of holding onto fear is fearful; my goal is to keep growing and confronting any fears I have that keep me from being the best possible version of myself. I guess that would be my biggest fear, that I allow myself to be too distracted to actually work on myself and confront any fears that I have.

Why do you think LGBTQ+ representation and community are important – in roots music and beyond?

When I came out, there were very few ‘out’ people in our culture. Seeing k.d. lang and Ellen DeGeneres coming out for me was just an affirmation that there were lesbians that existed in the world besides myself. It was really helpful for me to move to a community where it was normal and acceptable, which was the small and diverse town of Eureka Springs, Arkansas. If you are feeling uncomfortable with yourself, being in a community of folks that are accepting of who you are is a great thing. What I loved about Eureka Springs is that there were a couple of gay bars, but the gay people just hung out in all the bars and it didn’t feel like an isolated thing. It just felt normal and accepted to be part of the LGBTQ+ community there for the most part – except for maybe at the Walmart. [Laughs]

What are your release and touring plans for the next year?

Borned In Ya is out July 19th, 2024! I am doing a whole lot of touring around it – Montana, Colorado, Wyoming, Oregon, Washington, then venturing into Missouri, Arkansas, Illinois, Minnesota, Michigan, Wisconsin, Kentucky, and lots of Texas before making my way to Nashville for AmericanaFest. And, I just got back from performing in Europe! It’s a busy year, birthing Borned In Ya!

Photo Credit: Aisha Golliher

LISTEN: Kiely Connell, “Damn Hands”

Posted on by Justin Hiltner

Artist: Kiely Connell
Hometown: Hammond, Indiana
Song: “Damn Hands”
Album: My Own Company
Release Date: July 19, 2024
Label: Thirty Tigers

In Their Words: “It amazes me that we’re still having this conversation about consent. Just because somebody is nice to someone it does not mean they’re entitled to put their hands on you. Let’s let that die here and now. Keep your damn hands to yourself.” – Kiely Connell

Track Credits:
Drums and percussion – Andrew Borger
Bass – Nate Query
Electric guitars, piano and organ – Drew Kohl
Acoustic guitar and vocals – Kiely Connell

Photo Credit: Alysse Gafkjen