Tag: Old-time

Peter Rowan and Sam Grisman Project Will Bring Old & In the Way to the Ryman

Posted on by Justin Hiltner

On January 9, 2025, there will be a special performance – more so a once-in-a-lifetime celebration – of the groundbreaking music of Old & In the Way at Nashville’s famed Ryman Auditorium.

Led by the “Bluegrass Buddha” himself, Peter Rowan, the legendary singer-songwriter and founding member of the group will be backed by the Sam Grisman Project. The gathering will also feature a murderers’ row of talent: Sam Bush, Tim O’Brien, Lindsay Lou, Ronnie & Rob McCoury, and more.

“In bluegrass, you just do the beautiful grace of presenting the music, being good neighbors and all that stuff,” Rowan told BGS in an exclusive 2022 interview. “But you could hear us in the band going, ‘go, man, go.’ Go for it, that’s where we came from. That’s what Old & In the Way was – the ‘go for it’ signal to everybody.”

To preface, Old & In the Way started as impromptu pickin’-n-grinnin’ sessions in the early 1970s between Rowan, his longtime friend, mandolin guru David Grisman, and Jerry Garcia, iconic guitarist for the Grateful Dead, who reached for his trusty banjo during the gatherings at Garcia’s home in Stinson Beach, California.

“We started picking every night after supper [at Jerry’s],” Rowan remembers. “We went through old song books and learned a bunch of material.”

At the time, Garcia was searching for new avenues of creative exploration, seeing as the Dead were in the midst of taking a much-needed hiatus after years of relentless touring and recording. He was also, perhaps subconsciously, trying to tap back into his roots before the Dead, this landscape of the late 1950s/early 1960s where Garcia was heavily involved in the San Francisco Bay Area folk scene.

“And you realized that Jerry was an intergalactic traveler, just dropping in on the Earth scene for a little while, but he was totally at home,” Rowan says of Garcia’s restless penchant and lifelong thirst for acoustic music.

When Old & In the Way formed in 1973, the trio recruited bassist John Kahn, as well as a revolving cast of fiddlers (Richard Greene, John Hartford, Vassar Clements). Sporadic gigs were booked around the Bay Area, with the vibe of the whole affair casual in nature – the ethos one of camaraderie and collaboration, but without expectations or boundaries.

“I remember singing the ending of ‘Land of the Navajo’ at the first rehearsal and I looked over at Jerry,” Rowan recalls. “He kept nodding his head like, ‘go.’ It was like Jack Kerouac at Allen Ginsberg’s poetry reading at City Lights Bookstore – ‘go, man, go.’ Encouragement, encouragement.”

By 1974, Old & In the Way simply vanished into the cosmic ether, but not before capturing a handful of live performances that have become melodic sacred texts of a crucial crossroads for acoustic music. To note, Old & In the Way’s 1975 self-titled debut album went on to become the bestselling bluegrass album of all-time – until it was dethroned by the O Brother, Where Art Thou? soundtrack released in 2000.

As it stands today, Rowan, now 82 years old, is the only remaining member of Old & In the Way still actively performing. Garcia, Clements, Kahn, and Hartford have all sadly passed on, with the elder Grisman and Greene retired from touring. Grisman’s son, standup bassist Sam Grisman, is now carrying his father’s bright torch.

And although the tenure of the Old & In the Way was short-lived, the ripple effects of the band’s ongoing influence and enduring legacy remains as vibrant and vital as it was those many years ago, when a handful of shaggy music freaks kicked off a jam that will perpetuate for eternity.

In preparation for the upcoming Old & In the Way showcase at the Ryman on January 9, BGS recently spoke with Sam Grisman, who talked at-length not only about his continued work with Peter Rowan and the intricacies of Jerry Garcia, but also why a band Grisman’s father started over a half-century ago still captivates the hearts and minds of music lovers the world over.

You were five years old when Jerry Garcia passed away. You were really young, but do you remember anything that you hold onto?

Sam Grisman: Yeah, I have a very vivid memory of what our house felt like, smelled like, and just what the energy was like when Jerry was around. And I remember that sort of ease, just the way that he made people feel. It seemed like my parents were at ease when he was around.

And he probably felt at ease being around them. It was probably a safe haven at that house.

Definitely. And, you know, my parents smoked weed in the house. But, my mom was pretty strict about cigarettes. [She] wouldn’t let anybody smoke cigarettes in the house. But, when Jerry was around, he smoked cigarettes in the house. So, part of this smell in my blurry five-year-old memory is the smell of cigarettes. And Jerry would sometimes wear a leather jacket, maybe the smell of leather.

I remember the sound of his laugh. I remember all that music, and some of it I remember so vividly that I just know that part of that memory is reinforced by being there as a little toddler when they were working up [music]. Because they would often work on tunes upstairs in the living room and then take them down to the studio, put them on the mics and pull them.

You just wanted to be around it all and soak it all in.

I was a really curious kid.

With the Ryman show coming up, there’s been a lot of celebration of Old & In the Way as of late, especially with you touring with Peter Rowan and the current Jerry Garcia exhibit at the Bluegrass Hall of Fame & Museum. You’ve been around those songs your whole life. But, when you think about the context of Old & In the Way, and what you’re doing at the Ryman, what really sticks out with why that was such a special time in not only bluegrass, but in the lives of those people?

I mean, what a lightning-in-the-bottle chapter of all those people’s lives, you know? I think 1973, ’73/’74, was a particularly fertile time for Jerry. He was playing a full schedule with the Dead. He had Jerry Garcia Band stuff. He was playing in Old & In the Way. He was playing pedal steel with the New Riders of the Purple Sage. It seemed like he really had an itch to go back to where his roots were, especially when you look at [the Grateful Dead album] Workingman’s Dead [that was released a] couple years prior.

For all of us, who are looking back on it 50 years in the future, it seems like this momentous, heady time that was just meant to be. But, for those guys in the moment, it was just total serendipity. And the quintessence of just going with the flow – Stinson Beach, California, vibes. They just kind of stumbled into this reality.

“Y’all wanna play?” “Sure, why not.”

Yeah, where it would just be really fun to have this bluegrass band that they didn’t take super seriously, which I think really comes across in the recordings, you know? Because there’s all this joy in that music that might not necessarily have been there if those guys were taking it super seriously or if they needed it to pay their bills. It was a very interesting circumstance.

And for them to call their hero Vassar Clements into the mix, on a sort of whim because Peter found his number on a card in his wallet. It was sort of like a fantasy camp for these guys. Like a bunch of hippies sitting around on the beach, smoking a joint, thinking: “Wouldn’t it be great if we had the world’s greatest fiddle player just show up?” “I bet you we could book a gig.” “Hey Jerry, you got these legions of people following you around, you could probably get us a gig, right?”

And that’s kind of how it happened. Those gigs were so magical, because they happened mostly for all of these Deadheads in Marin [County, California], for like 16 months or something.

So, if you really had your finger on the pulse of it and you were going to the Keystone [music club in Berkeley, California], to see [the Jerry Garcia Band] and you loved what the Dead were doing, you knew that they were going to take this time off, but you just saw Jerry the week before and he never took his guitar off. He just finished the [Jerry Garcia Band] set and walked backstage with his guitar on and was smoking a cigarette, and then you saw him 30 minutes later talking to somebody off the side of stage, still had his guitar on — you’re thinking, “Gee, this guy’s not going to stop playing music this year, so I better keep my eyes peeled for what’s next.” And they played all these little gigs mostly around the Bay Area — they kind of captured some lightning in a bottle.

With playing these Old & In the Way melodies not only throughout your life, but also extensively nowadays with Peter Rowan, what’s been your biggest takeaway on what makes those songs and the ethos/history behind them so special to you? What about in terms of musicality, technique, and approach?

It’s hard to articulate how special it is to be exploring these beloved songs that mean so much to so many folks, myself included, with Peter and a cast of some of my best friends and favorite musicians. It’s a catalog that’s got a lot of depth.

Old & In the Way would play anything from songs by bluegrass heroes like Bill Monroe, The Stanley Brothers, Reno & Smiley, and Jim & Jesse to Vassar [Clements], Jerry [Garcia], and my pop’s instrumentals, to the tunes that Peter was writing at the time, which are some of my absolute favorite songs ever written.

Songs like “Midnight Moonlight,” “High Lonesome Sound,” and “Panama Red.” Playing these tunes with Uncle Peter makes me feel connected to the times he spent with David and Jerry in Stinson Beach in the early ’70s.

I grew up in Mill Valley and loved going to Stinson Beach with my friends, so I have a pretty vivid image in my mind’s eye. They played tunes, hung out, relaxed, took in the sea breeze, smoked a bunch of great weed, and developed a highly individuated “West Coast” approach to playing and singing this bluegrass music that they all loved and respected so much.

And then, they called one of my bass heroes, John Kahn, and their fiddle hero, the inimitable Vassar Clements and gave the world about one glorious year – I think around 50 shows – of a rare and lovable breed of bluegrass.

So much of everyone’s personality comes through in the music, and you can hear their camaraderie in the recordings. I guess my biggest take away from getting to play this music with Peter is how important it is to bring your own approach to these timeless songs that we love, while still honoring what it is that makes us love them in the first place.

You’ve known Peter Rowan since you were born. But, what has this latest endeavor together meant to you, to play the Old & In the Way catalog to not only lifelong fans, but also a whole new generation of acoustic music fans and bluegrass freaks?

It means the world to me to get to spend some time out on the road sharing space and time in service of this music with Uncle Peter. Getting to meet all of these folks who care so much about this music and feeling their appreciation and gratitude for Pete has been truly special.

There are so many people from so many different ages and different walks of life for whom this music has been the soundtrack to many fond memories, and I’m honored to be one of them. It’s also been a joy to see fresh faces in the audience and some folks taking in this music with a new perspective.

In your honest opinion, what is the legacy of Old & In the Way when you place it through the prism of the history of bluegrass and the road to the here and now, especially this current juncture where the torchbearers are selling out arenas and creating this high-water mark for acoustic, traditional and bluegrass music?

For many folks who know and love the music of Jerry Garcia and the Grateful Dead, Old & In the Way has been their first exposure to bluegrass. So many people over the years have told me how listening to Old & In the Way led them to further explore bluegrass music and its roots and branches. And others have told me how it inspired them to become pickers and start bands of their own.

I think Old & In the Way has been pivotal in bringing a wider audience with a more adventurous musical palette into the bluegrass universe. The legacy of Old & In the Way is one of exploration and preservation, and they certainly paved the way for many of us to walk a similar path — honoring the music that we love, while exploring its boundaries and finding our own voices and approaches.

It’s wonderful to see my friend Billy Strings out there playing for so many folks on such a big scale simply being himself, playing his own songs with a great group of friends, and also honoring the material that made him the musician that he is — maybe that’s a part of the legacy of Old & In the Way.

Photo Credit: Elliot Siff
Poster Credit: Taylor Rushing

Meet This Year’s Steve Martin Banjo Prize Winners

Posted on by Justin Hiltner

On Tuesday, December 17, actor, comedian, and banjoist Steve Martin and the board of his Steve Martin Banjo Prize – now in its fourteenth year – announced this year’s winners of the $25,000 prize. Founded in 2010, the Steve Martin Banjo Prize for Excellence in Banjo has since awarded more than $500,000 in unrestricted prize funds to banjo players across the genre and style spectrum. The inaugural awardee in 2010 was modern banjo luminary Noam Pikelny; in successive years the list of recipients has grown rapidly, including such players, leaders, and composers as Rhiannon Giddens, Terry Baucom, Don Vappie, Jake Blount, Victor Furtado, Eddie Adcock, and many more.

This year, the prize’s two recipients are banjo pickers on the cutting edge of the instrument’s bright future in two distinct styles, Allison de Groot (one of the foremost old-time, clawhammer/frailing banjo players of her generation) and Tray Wellington (a Scruggs-style picker with a striking postmodern, newgrass approach.)

“Exploring had always been part of my personality since I was a kid,” Wellington explained via press release. “Music is the same way for me. Since I started playing banjo at 14, I had ideas for how I could constantly expand my musical vision and make my personality shine through banjo. Every day I am still on that journey and cannot wait to continue this pursuit.”

And exploration is certainly a hallmark of Wellington’s approach to the instrument. His right-hand approach is decidedly traditional, it’s powerful and assertive with limitless drive. While his left hand is mind-bending in its virtuosity, combining influences and textures from envelope pushers like Pikelny and Béla Fleck, he pulls an equal measure of inspiration from outside of bluegrass and roots music, as well.

Take for instance his rendition of Kid Cudi’s “Pursuit of Happiness.” A layperson or bluegrass passerby might not ever expect a Kid Cudi cover performed at a roots music festival, let alone a straight-ahead bluegrass festival, but in almost every instance and context this writer has heard Wellington and band perform the number, the reaction from his audiences is electric. A buzzing excitement ripples through the crowd, murmuring recognition spreading like the most virulent contagion known to man (banjo) always does.

His live performances and through-composed instrumental pieces are out of this world, like his original “Moon in Motion 1” and “Spiral Staircase” from his most recent EP, Detour to the Moon. His 2022 full-length debut, Black Banjo, was critically acclaimed and well-received in bluegrass and beyond, combining new acoustic, jazz, Americana, and ‘grass together in his own particular blend. The project was something of a statement of perspective for Wellington, but that point of view has been anything but static since Black Banjo.

A nominee for multiple IBMA Awards – and 2019 winner of their Momentum Instrumentalist Award – Wellington is certainly right at home on bluegrass festival stages, but his music is expansive, broad, and fully-realized no matter the context. It’s clear he makes his musical and repertoire choices for himself first and foremost and following that, for a forward-thinking, equally broad audience to whom he’s directly bringing his songs and story.

This is the power of a picker like Wellington, to energize and electrify an audience – whether diehard banjo fans or new initiates – with a sound totally his own. It’s exactly how Earl Scruggs became the legendary figure of American music that he is today, by causing thousands of “What the hell is this magic?!” reactions from his listeners and bringing countless scores into the music with that inimitable sound alone.

For her part, de Groot is also a committed borderless musical explorer: “It still feels just as exciting as it did the first day I picked it up,” she relays in a press release. “I feel like I could live 100 lifetimes and explore the banjo.”

Meanwhile, her voice on the instrument would already seem to indicate multiple lifetimes lived on the banjo. A veteran of groups such as Bruce Molsky’s Mountain Drifters, the Goodbye Girls (with Lena Jonsson, Molly Tuttle, and Brittany Karlson), and duo outfits with folks like Nic Gareiss and Tatiana Hargreaves, de Groot has an absolutely idiosyncratic approach to old-time, clawhammer, and frailing styles.

Perhaps her most jaw-dropping achievement – to this banjo player, at least – is how melodic, intricate, and grounded her playing is. De Groot plays with the precision of a three-finger player and with a very similar rhythmic foundation, making it particularly compelling when she leans into melodic intricacies usually left to bluegrass strains of banjo playing. Her execution of Irish tunes on old-time banjo, too, are fantastic and baffling. How does she do it??

There may not be a more lyrical clawhammer banjo player around today, though de Groot has excellent company (Cathy Fink, Brad Kolodner, Victor Furtado, Nick Hornbuckle) in this rarest of niches she inhabits. Don’t get it twisted, though, this is a picker with grit; this frailing has teeth. At the same time, her playing never strays toward iconoclastic banjo pitfalls like showing off or territorialism or horse-measuring contests.

Her style is incisive, deliberate, and bold, and at the same time liberated by her commitment to listening and making music in partnership with her collaborators, whoever they may be and whatever styles they may dabble in. While the prize and the visibility it lends are beyond well-deserved, it’s clear that de Groot’s reputation as a superlative banjo technician is already well known across musical communities – take, for example, her and Hargreaves’ recent collaboration with guitarist and composer Yasmin Williams on “Hummingbird.”

As evidenced by this short primer on each of these fine banjo pickers, Wellington and de Groot are excellent choices to receive the Steve Martin Banjo Prize as selected by the award’s board – which currently includes Steve Martin, Alison Brown, Béla Fleck, Noam Pikelny, Anne Stringfield, Tony Trischka, Pete Wernick, Johnny Baier, Kristin Scott Benson, Roger Brown, Jaime Deering, Dom Flemons, Paul Schiminger, Chris Wadsworth, and Garry West.

Both Wellington and de Groot are young players poised to open minds and open up the instrument in exciting, engaging, and innovative ways – because that’s what the banjo has always been about.

Today, December 17, at 5:30pm ET / 2:30pm PT, viewers can tune into Deering Live to enjoy a livestream celebrating the two winners featuring Alison Brown as co-host and including interviews and performances. Tune in here.

Photo Credit: Allison de Groot by Phil Cook; Tray Wellington courtesy of the Steve Martin Banjo Prize.

MIXTAPE: Say Sister! Festival and “I’ve Endured” Exhibit Hit Baltimore

Posted on by Justin Hiltner

Celebrating the rich history of women in old-time music, past, present, and future, has been an obsession of mine for over 50 years. I’ve listened to archival recordings, sat in the living room with Ola Belle Reed, Jean Ritchie, and Alice Gerrard, toured with Patsy Montana, taught Maybelle Carter’s unique guitar style, and interviewed Lily May Ledford at the Renfro Valley Barn Dance.

I was a proud member of the team that created The Birthplace of Country Music’s exhibit, “I’ve Endured: Women In Old Time Music.” And I’m thrilled that Baltimore’s Creative Alliance is hosting both the exhibit and the Say Sister! Festival celebrating women in roots music in January 2025. This playlist includes music from the past and the “I’ve Endured” exhibit, present artists from the Say Sister! Festival lineup – and the future is coming! – Cathy Fink, musician and co-curator

“I’ve Endured” – Ola Belle Reed

Ola Belle (1916-2002) was born Ola Wave Campbell in Grassy Creek, North Carolina. She was a fine traditional banjo picker and guitarist and grew up with a rich repertoire of family music. She also became a prolific songwriter, realizing that she had her own things to say and her own way to say them within the structure of old-time music. This song has been covered hundreds of times by contemporary artists. Ola Belle received a Distinguished Achievement Award from the International Bluegrass Music Association in 1998 and was awarded a prestigious National Heritage Fellowship Award in 1986.

“Polly Ann’s Hammer” – Our Native Daughters (Amythyst Kiah, Rhiannon Giddens, Leyla McCalla, Allison Russell)

A native of Tennessee, Amythyst Kiah performs both original and traditional songs on banjo and guitar. She dug deep into old-time music as a student at East Tennessee State University’s roots music program. In “Polly Ann’s Hammer,” the legendary John Henry takes a back seat and his wife gets the lead role. Like the “I’ve Endured” exhibit, this effort brings light to someone who has not received the attention she may have deserved.

“When John was sick/ Polly drove steel/ Like a man, Lord, like a man … This is the hammer that killed your daddy/ Throw it down and we’ll be free…”

“Things Are Coming My Way” – Marcy Marxer

Marcy adapted this song from the singing of Bessie Jones and the Georgia Sea Island Singers. Marcy met the Georgia Sea Island Singers during various folk festivals and always delighted in this song. She’s been celebrating the rich history of women in country music in our duo for over 40 years. Marcy’s a multi-instrumentalist on guitar, cello banjo, mandolin, ukulele, percussion and more. This song showcases her fingerpicking guitar style.

“West Virginia Coal Disaster” – Sarah Kate Morgan

Sarah Kate Morgan steps follow right after Jean Ritchie with traditional and original songs and dulcimer playing. She’s an innovative Appalachian dulcimer player with a gorgeous voice and a love for Appalachian music and heritage. Here she sings Jean’s potent song about the 1968 Saxsewell No. 8 Mine disaster. Hang in there for the awesome instrumental at the end!
Sarah Kate teaches at the Hindman Settlement School in Kentucky.

“Red Rocking Chair” – The Coon Creek Girls, Lily May Ledford

Lily May Ledford (1917-1985) from Powell, Kentucky played clawhammer banjo and fiddle and was the leader of the first all-girl string band on the radio, The Coon Creek Girls. Here her solo banjo playing is featured.

“Cotton Patch Rag” – Kimber Ludiker

Kimber plays fiddle and mandolin and sings with bluegrass group Della Mae. She’s a sixth-generation fiddler from Spokane, Washington. Here’s her winning performance of “Cotton Patch Rag” from the 2006 Grand Master Fiddle Championship.

“What The Lord Done Give You” – Cathy Fink

I was the first woman to win the West Virginia State Banjo contest (1980) – and went on to win it several times, total. In 2018 I also won the Clifftop Appalachian Music Festival Banjo Contest. This original song is played on a gut string fretless banjo, making a new tune sound old.

“I Will Not Go Down” – Amythyst Kiah featuring Billy Strings

From Amythyst’s most recent album, Still + Bright, comes this awesome collaboration with Billy Strings. It’s a powerful song and arrangement. I can tell you that if Ola Belle Reed were able to hear this song, she’d give it a big thumbs up! Speaking truth to power is part and parcel of women’s work in roots music.

“Muddy Creek” – Sarah Kate Morgan

Sarah Kate Morgan has redefined what can be done on an Appalachian dulcimer. Her trills, embellishments and awesome tone here are joined by fiddle, banjo and feet. This one will make you happy!

“Now Is the Cool of the Day” – Jean Ritchie

Jean’s clear soprano voice couldn’t be more beautiful than on this original song that draws on her traditional roots, while conjuring God’s calling to humans to take care of the earth. First released in 1977 and still timeless.

“No-See-Um Stomp” – Della Mae

Kimber tears up this original fiddle tune with an all-star band featuring Molly Tuttle, Alison Brown, Avril Smith, and Della Mae.

“Chilly Winds” – Cathy Fink & Marcy Marxer

Cello banjo (Marcy) and five-string banjo (Cathy) make up the instrumental duo behind the vocal duet in this classic old-time song.

“The Little Devils” – Jean Ritchie

Jean’s solo voice reminds us what it must have been like to gather round the fire after dinner and hear her mother sing to the family before the age of television.

“Banjo Pickin’ Girl” – The Coon Creek Girls, Lily May Ledford

This song has become the unofficial theme song of many a banjo pickin’ girl and string band. Lily May Ledford and the Coon Creek Girls sang this on the WLS Barn Dance (Chicago), Renfro Valley Barn Dance (KY) and Lily May continued singing it solo for the rest of her career.

Say Sister! Festival takes place in Baltimore, Maryland at the Creative Alliance on January 10 & 11, 2025. Tickets – in person and “watch from home” – are available here. The “I’ve Endured: Women of Old Time Music” exhibit opens at Creative Alliance on January 3 at 6pm. 

Photo Credit: Cathy Fink & Marcy Marxer by Irene Young; Amythyst Kiah by Photography by Kevin & King; Sarah Kate Morgan by Jared Hamilton.
Poster Credit: Gina Dilg

25 Years On, Yonder Mountain String Band Keep Redefining Bluegrass

Posted on by Justin Hiltner

For a quarter century Yonder Mountain String Band has inspired a generation of bluegrass fans with its fusion of traditional sounds and intricate jams. That trend continues on Nowhere Next. The band’s first full-length album since 2022, it showcases the abilities of its two newest members – mandolinist and vocalist Nick Piccininni and fiddler Coleman Smith – front and center.

Piccininni connected with the group in January 2020 and Smith was added earlier this year, joining the band’s longtime core of bassist Ben Kaufmann, guitarist Adam Aijala, and banjo player Dave Johnston, collectively bringing a new energy to the band that harkens back to its early days – when they also consisted of the frenetic and oftentimes unpredictable Jeff Austin. Despite being in the band for nearly five years now and co-writing nine of the album’s 11 songs, Piccininni says that joining up with such an established collective was intimidating at first.

“It’s definitely daunting when you come into something that’s been around as long as these guys have,” Piccininni admits to BGS. “But working with Adam, Ben, and Dave has actually come very naturally. They’ve made me comfortable in expressing opinions about the music and giving my two cents. They’ve not once made me feel like I was an outsider.”

In our latest installment of First & Latest, we chart the band’s evolution and trailblazing nature from their 1999 debut, Elevation, all the way to their brand new album, Nowhere Next, a collection that features old favorites familiar to longtime fans alongside new songs sure to make you fall in love with them all over again.

Two songs on this record – “Didn’t Go Wrong” and “River” – have been a part of your live show for years, even making it on to different iterations of your Mountain Tracks compilations. What made y’all want to finally give them a proper studio treatment?

Adam Aijala: Ben sings on and had been pushing both of those. We have about 30 songs we’ve written over the years that aren’t on a formal record yet. Even before Nick joined the band, we’d been thinking about getting into the studio and recording some of them. That being said, I still prefer to write new stuff. When people ask me how you keep going after a quarter century, I always say that if we weren’t writing new material I don’t know that we would still be around. You’ve got to keep things fresh, whether that’s learning new covers or having your own new stuff to perform.

Given the mix of new and old on this record, both in terms of the song selection and rotation of band members, what are your thoughts on where Nowhere Next stacks up with the rest of the Yonder catalog?

AA: When Get Yourself Outside came out, I thought that was our best record, but now I think this one is. I still hold an affinity for albums like Elevation and Town by Town, but I’m really happy with Nowhere Next and what we were able to do on it. It’s still bluegrass, maybe not the traditional kind, but Yonder Mountain’s bluegrass with varied rhythms, tempos, and styles.

One of our biggest influences is The Grateful Dead, and they’re the same way. In the years between their albums – from their self-titled first album to their Skulls & Roses live album, Wake of the Flood, Terrapin Station, and Workingman’s Dead – they evolved in different ways, but always stuck to a similar blueprint no matter what musicians happened to be around them. Similarly, you can still hear elements of what we did on our first few albums today, which songs like “Didn’t Go Wrong” and “River” further help bridge the gap to.

One song that I feel ties together all of the elements that make up “Yonder Mountain’s bluegrass,” that you just spoke of really well, is Nick’s song, “Secondhand Smoke.” Mind sharing a bit about how that one came to be?

Nick Piccininni: The basis of that is that I went through a divorce and when I separated from my wife the first apartment I got had my landlord living downstairs. He was unfortunately confined to a wheelchair and just sat there chain-smoking cigarettes one after the other. I only lasted a month there before I went out and found a new place. In that sense the song was very literal, but there was also the aspect of going through a big change in your life while living in a small town and feeling like everyone is watching you and talking behind your back.

Interesting. I picked up on the themes of deceit, but the literal reference to secondhand smoke is a nice touch. What does the band’s songwriting process look like as a whole, especially with Nick and Coleman now part of the band?

AA: Everybody in this band has written songs that I really like. With that in mind, I don’t think it’s a “too many cooks in the kitchen” kind of situation. It’s more like, I trust that we’re going to get the best song by letting everyone have a listen, peek at it, and hear what they have to say, whether it’s with one of my songs or someone else’s. I’m not someone to hold my ideas close. It’s better not to be married to them, for me at least. For instance, when Dave tells me he doesn’t like something of mine, it doesn’t bother me because he’s not saying it to be hurtful, he’s just giving his opinion and I trust him when it comes to that.

For me most of my songwriting ideas start with music first. I don’t have a great writing regimen or practice, I just wait for something to spark interest and roll with it. But if it’s music first and I don’t really have an idea on what it would be about, I think on the mood of the music and what those chords and potential melody makes me feel and go from there.

What about you, Nick? And has your process changed at all since joining Yonder?

NP: Historically, for me, I’ve been a music-driven ideas guy too. On most days I’ll sit down at home, pick up my guitar and record or work on a few voice memos. Lately I’ve also gotten into a better habit of working on a lyric while on an airplane or sitting at a hotel because we have so much downtime with all of our travel. At the same time, things have changed a lot in the last four and a half years of being with Yonder though. Prior to joining them I’d never co-written. Getting that outside perspective on my songwriting is something I’d not experienced before and has been incredibly beneficial to me.

Although it’s not Nowhere Next or new songs, I wanted to briefly discuss your I’d Like Off EP, a previously unreleased project from 2010 featuring former member, Jeff Austin, that dropped earlier this year. What was the motivation behind finally sharing those recordings?

AA: When we recorded it our intent was to do a full album. We recorded about 13 tracks for it in pre-production at my house, some of which ended up on the EP and others that were never recorded. We’ve had a couple projects like this that we’ve sat on so long that we didn’t see much of a point in releasing so far down the road, but with this one we decided to move forward since everything was done aside from it being mixed and mastered. We’ve been playing “What the Night Brings” and other songs from it live regularly, as well. It helps to keep us interested, which in turn keeps the crowd interested and connected to what we’re doing as well.

What has your time with Yonder Mountain String Band taught you about yourself?

AA: It’s helped to hone my social interactions. If there’s one thing in life I’ve learned it’s that the world doesn’t revolve around you, especially when you’re a traveling outfit with multiple people. You’ve got to learn to roll with things and when we first started the band I wasn’t like that. Before I joined the band, I traveled all over the country in my own vehicle by myself. I got so used to going where I wanted when I wanted, but in a band it’s the exact opposite.

NP: It’s taught me how impatient I can be. Musically, it’s been cool because I’ve usually played banjo, fiddle, and more melodic instruments, but stepping into a mandolin role has taught me just how much of the snare drum of bluegrass it really is and learning to just do one very simple thing repeatedly and lock in on it. It’s been one of the most challenging things I’ve had to take on and pushing myself to do it to the best of my ability has been neat.

Photo Credit: Robin Vega

MIXTAPE: Thomas Cassell’s Songs to Pass the Time

Posted on by Justin Hiltner

2024 is winding down and like any other year, there’s a lot to say goodbye to as we welcome in the future. Memories (the good and bad), loved ones, homes – all seem to eventually become markers in time.

A marker in my ‘24 was the release of my third record, The Never-Ending Years, in October. The theme of time is common throughout (as the title would suggest), and when BGS asked me to put together a playlist in celebration, I considered the many topical songs that have had an impact on me.

There may be some obvious players left out (sorry, Pink Floyd and Jim Croce) but really, these are simply the songs that have meant the most to me, songs I listen to in eternal recurrence, all having something to do with the fact that time moves on – with or without our blessing. – Thomas Cassell

“Where Did the Morning Go?” – Blue Highway

Blue Highway has had an incredible impact on everything I do. They really set a bar with thoughtful, original material in bluegrass music. This song in particular pulls a heartstring, as the every-quickening pace of life only blurs with time.

“Childish Things” – James McMurtry

There’s an innocence that we lose every day and much of our wonder and curiosity tends to disappear with it. But for me, the contentment of looking back brings calmness and comfort for the future. James McMurtry is on my Mount Rushmore of songwriters and this song (I think) is as good as anything he’s ever written.

“Mama’s Hand” – Lynn Morris (written by Hazel Dickens)

Leaving home is tough, as most anyone knows. Inevitable as it is, it can be hard to say goodbye, no matter the opportunity that awaits. Lynn’s music has brought me a lot of comfort in this life.

“Today” – John Hartford

John Hartford’s songwriting certainly doesn’t need my endorsement, but I think his early records are often overlooked. This song was released in 1967, Hartford’s LA era that gave us “Gentle On My Mind,” “No End of Love,” and so many others. There ain’t nothing but today.

“Last Time on the Road” – Nashville Bluegrass Band (written by Carl Jones)

This song found me at the right time. I was getting burnt out from touring and music in general had become a daily commitment that brought little joy. It was nice to know that others felt the same, but also that they were capable of salvaging the good and moving forward making great music – in the NBB’s case, four more great records.

“Needed” – Robbie Fulks

Robbie Fulks has been a favorite for a long time, partly for his unpredictable performance style – check out Revenge! (Live) – but also for his thoughtful lyricism and vulnerable storytelling. This song highlights the latter, and all the reflection and regret that comes with getting older.

“Blackberry Summer” – Dale Ann Bradley

Is it possible to be nostalgic for a childhood you didn’t have? I think so – at least that’s how I feel when I listen to this song. Dale Ann takes me back to all of my childhood summers, as similar or different as they may be.

“Nail” – Ed Snodderly

Ed is a songwriter’s songwriter, and one of the coolest musicians I know. His group The Brother Boys is an all time favorite, but this song from his 2017 solo record really fits the current theme. The nothin’ here leaves no more.

“Don’t You Know I’m From Here” – Brennen Leigh

Prairie Love Letter is one of those records that I downloaded before a flight and then proceeded to listen to three or four times through before landing (still do sometimes). The writing is incredible front to back, but the opening track really hit me hard. I’m from a very small town and every time I go home, I find I have less of a connection to the place – only a growing longing for one. This song of Brennen’s couldn’t articulate that feeling any better.

“Bed by the Window” – James King (written by Marnie Wilson and Rob Crosby)

The Bluegrass Storyteller. I’m not sure there’s a song that earned James King that title more than this one does. Here’s your reminder to go and visit the elderly in your life, wherever they may be.

“The Randall Knife” – Guy Clark

I couldn’t finish this playlist without including Guy Clark’s magnum opus. There’s a lot I could say about this song, but none of it as well as him.

“Autumn Leaves Don’t Fall” – Thomas Cassell

And if you’ve made it all the way to the end, I’ll reward you with a little bit of self-promotion. Jon Weisberger and I wrote this song after thinking about how the more people we lose, the quicker we seem to lose them. Time is exponential.

Photo Credit: Scott Simontacchi

A True Original, Italian Guitarist Beppe Gambetta is a Bluegrass Innovator

Posted on by Justin Hiltner

Most listeners would probably attribute the incredibly unique musical approach of guitarist Beppe Gambetta to his country of origin. Being a native of Genoa, Italy, he certainly brings a global and European folk flair to his bluegrass and old-time inflected six-string compositions. But it would be shortsighted to simply credit that truly original voice to mere geography.

Gambetta is an instrumentalist who always works with intention. Developed over a lifetime of playing and cultural cross pollination, his style exists in the fertile ground somewhere between a triangulation of Norman Blake, Doc Watson, and Django Reinhardt. He’s learned from, recorded, collaborated, and performed with so many of “greats” such as these across several generations of American roots music virtuosos. Gambetta is a bluegrasser through and through, but he’s also so much more.

His latest album, Terra Madre (released in April 2024), is a lovely continuation of his lengthy and harlequin catalog of recordings. It’s bilingual, cinematic, and thoughtful, while also impassioned and brash. But he’s never a one-note musician, so the collection is artfully subtle at the same time. Gambetta doesn’t just know this intersection – aggressive and gentle, bold and subdued – it’s as if he lives there. It’s his address.

Perhaps most of all, Gambetta is a perfect representation of how an individual can bring himself into a generational folkway and established aural tradition such as American roots music, while simultaneously preserving his selfhood and his singular point of view. Our email interview, like the new record, is a perfect representation of Gambetta’s melting pot style – and the way he uses the entire earth, terra madre, as his medium.

The title track  of Terra Madre is cinematic and vibey, with a bit of funk and a dash of charming silliness. I love that it starts with the sound of footsteps, grounding the listener on terra madre herself. Can you talk a bit about the song, its title, and how being embodied on earth, on this rock hurtling through space, inspires your music and songwriting?

The song “Terra Madre” is the most dramatic of the album: the footsteps are from a couple of escaping refugees, the song is about their dreams. They meet with friends and jump the border wall in the dark of the night with fear, pain and hope. We don’t know the exact story, the place where it happens is also unknown in order to represent a ubiquitous pain that can be found all over the world.

It was hard to express these extremely dramatic sentiments only with acoustic instruments, but the use of the flatpicking style with strong bass lines and heavy strums turned out to be a good tool. I used a regular guitar but also a low bouzouki guitar and few slide guitars “prepared” with special strings and tunings. As you noticed, I added the sound of the escaping steps in order to ground the listener to the earth and with drummer Joe Bonadio we decided not to use the snare drum in order to create a more “suspended” atmosphere only with toms and cymbals.

How much of the earth’s current worries are in this album? How much did the planet’s current state of being inform the song itself?

The album’s general concept is related to the cry of pain that rises from our Earth and to the right of musicians to dream about a better world in moments of darkness. In the different songs there are dreams for a better life, for peace, repentance, friendship through music, adventure, forgiveness, survival of minority cultures, redemption, dreams to win, rage, envy, hate, and more.

In a period where leaders and politicians in charge are not able to resolve conflicts and crises there is a need for every other category to give a positive contribution. Probably scientists, philosophers, historians, theologists will give important contributions, but also artists can do their part.

I’m sure that even in modern times there is still a strong power that comes from folk songs and I decided to write my songs in different languages. For different reasons the album is totally self-produced and if you self-produce you need to put more love, passion, time, and money using all your resources.

“Sit and Pick with You” is certainly the stand out track on the album. Can you talk a bit about that song, its meaning, and how important the community aspect of this music is? Because, truly none of us would exist as pickers in bluegrass and string band music without folks – whether friends or peers or heroes or legends – to sit and pick with.

The inspiration for the song came to me during a California tour. I wrote it in order to celebrate some musical encounters with legendary fathers of the music – David Grisman, Dan Crary, Peter Rowan – dear friends who, at the end of their careers, continue to hold high the torch of beauty. I wrote the song with the sounds of the 1930s in mind, with a guitar riff inspired by “The Wildwood Flower” or “Jimmy Brown the Newsboy,” because I believe it is a timeless sound that can still speak to people’s hearts and move them.

I decided to sing the song as a duo, like an old brother duet. I first asked Norman Blake by sending him a handwritten letter in pencil, as we used to do in our correspondence in the 1980s. The reply was really kind, also handwritten by Nancy and signed by Norman, who thanked me for the thought and encouraged me in the project, but at that time Norman felt that his voice was not at the right level to appear on an album.

Luckily, my friend Tim O’Brien was available to sing it and did it with a perfect vintage-style rendition. Then David Grisman added his unmistakable signature [sound] on mandolin. Dan Crary played guitar in harmony, taking advantage of the depth of his “long neck” guitar tuned down a tone. The final touch to the quartet’s sound came from bassist Travis Book.

The positive meaning of the song is felt by many fans who identify with the sentiments it expresses: The joy of getting together and the friendship that comes from the beauty of music. Many began to incorporate it into their jam sessions with friends, as it happened at the Walnut Valley Festival campground in Winfield, Kansas, a gathering place for music lovers par excellence. I received many requests for the guitar part and finally now I distribute the tablature at all my concerts. For sure, this is the standout track of the album and it got a very special recognition and attention. It was number one in the Folk DJ chart in June and July and still now it is present in the top positions.

Your approach to the guitar – and really, to music and composition and picking in general – is totally unique. You have a voice all your own on the instrument. I think a lot of listeners on this side of the Atlantic would attribute that to your being Italian, but I think that’s a bit shortsighted and simplistic. How have you cultivated your particular style and how do you keep your music and creativity fresh and innovative, to yourself and to your listeners?

I wanted to develop my own particular voice, starting from the style of the American fathers and filtering in the influences gained during my tireless journey on the road that has given me particularly formative encounters, not only in Italy but in the whole world. It took time and attention, choosing and adding to my style drops of beauty from different sources, trying to limit the obvious “Tony Rice mania” and using ideas also from Dan, Norman, Clarence and much more.

For sure, all my studies about old Italian music and generally my natural Italian aesthetic sense and passion for melody has influenced my style. The work that I did in researching and studying the “Italian string virtuosi” and performing the albums Serenata and Traversata (produced with David Grisman) left an important mark in my playing.

Studies and stylistic research in flatpicking can go in different and almost opposite directions. On the one hand, the virtuosity of breathtaking phrasing combined with speed and improvisation – the shiver in your spine that you start to feel when you listen for the first time to “Black Mountain Rag.” On the other hand, the search for expressive techniques and melodies that touch the listener’s soul – the passion and tenderness of “Church Street Blues” in Tony Rice’s version is the perfect eye-opener to the expressive potential of flatpicking beyond mere circus performance.

This second aspect, probably underestimated in the current scene, is the one that fascinated me the most. I worked a lot to learn to play slow (using tremolos, partial strummings, crosspicking, and “separate crosspicking” on two, four, five, six strings, string jumps, crosspicking to obtain grace notes, etc.).

Rhythmic tension and speed, however, continue to fascinate me; it was fun to develop the licks of my tune “Chipmunk,” an instrumental that describes the run of New Jersey’s fastest pet on the front porch of our Stockton home, using down-down-up on two strings at 162 beats.

The secret of the freshness of my style stays in continuing to be excited by both creating something new and playing something old, and in sharing this happiness every day with my wife Federica! Often before taking the stage I revive the memory of those who helped me and believed in my art (Mama Gambetta first of all) and this gives me a strong power. Even if I am close to my seventieth birthday I continue to be ready and happy to do my job.

I also think your shows are so stunning and one-of-a-kind, too. You do so much with just a guitar, your voice, and your stories. How do you keep your show engaging and interesting, when you have so few variables or so few inputs? Do you find such a stark set up to be limiting or empowering or…

Standing in front of an audience with one guitar, a voice, and a pick is certainly a big challenge. That is why I have been working over the years to create a show that I can take to audiences around the world and to distant places. I try to speak to people’s hearts and maintain my authenticity, deciding to minimize the use of excessive volume, technology, and sound effects, avoiding wiggles and winks, and simply presenting myself as I am, as if I were playing acoustically in a living room.

An artist who influenced me in this direction was John Hartford, for whom I opened a concert in Ohio many years ago and I was inspired by his charisma in communicating alone with the audience. Over the years I have studied singing, learned how to narrate and create special atmospheres with the use of open tunings and different languages, and also to joke with the audience with “Old World” irony. Not to mention “Gino,” the name I gave to my pedal loop, which I always use sparingly and treat as an old cousin who travels with me and accompanies me with his guitar.

In music, limitations are often a source of creativity; Django Reinhardt invented amazing phrases using only two fingers of the left hand, blues harmonica players got missing notes by inventing bending, and so on. In flatpicking, the strong limitation is the inability to play two distant strings at the same time as you would do easily with fingers. The effort to overcome this limitation has always forced me to invent creative solutions.

Can you tell us the story or stories behind “Saint James Hospital”?

In 2023, on the centenary of Doc Watson’s birth, in addition to visiting his grave and playing a tune for him, I decided to rearrange some of the master’s songs so that I could celebrate him on many occasions, because Doc was my most important influence and changed my artistic life.

Doc was a giant because he invented a fresh repertoire for the acoustic guitar and developed a unique and engaging way of building a show. Among the various songs of his repertoire, “Saint James Hospital” represents his extraordinary ability to discover and rearrange true gems of beauty. “Saint James Hospital” comes from ethnomusicologist Alan Lomax’s earliest field recordings, when he was first allowed to record the prisoners in a Huntsville, Texas, jail in 1933. Among the various prisoners was James Baker, known as “Iron Head,” and from this seemingly dangerous character came a song with a refined and touching melody that spoke of repentance, redemption, and a dream of a better end of life.

For me it was a challenge to create a new arrangement after Doc Watson’s and Tony Rice’s masterpieces. I decided to invent a new interlude using many guitars in different tunings and I completed the arrangement on the high register with the arpeggio of a Cuban tres. The result was well-rewarded because also “Saint James Hospital” appeared for many months on the Folk DJ charts.

What’s next for Beppe Gambetta? What should folks be watching out for?

One of the reasons I continue to be active and innovative with so many projects is because I am lucky enough not to have a retirement plan! It’s a joke that tells the truth: The anxiety of having to keep working for a long time feeds my creativity and helps my determination to invent new music, new productions, new events and embark on new journeys.

Future projects fortunately are many, first of all the upcoming tours in America and Europe in support of Terra Madre.

Besides touring, an event I’m very excited about will happen on February 15, 2025 in Mendocino, California. It will be a reunion concert with Dan Crary, who just turned 85. We will celebrate his legacy and more than 30 years of touring as a duo. On May 15-16-17, 2025 there will be the 25th edition of my Acoustic Nights, a thematic concert series with international artists on the stage of the Teatro Nazionale in Genoa, Italy, an event that we conceived with [my wife] Federica and made grow over the years. The edition number 25 promises to be a beautiful big party with a large audience of friends who will come from far away to celebrate.

Also, in Italy, I produced two different plays with actors and script, one related to my autobiographical book, Declarations of Love, and the other related to songs about legendary bandits.

Among the American projects I would like to mention, the trio show about Italian virtuosi of the early 20th century with Mike Guggino and Barrett Smith (members of Steep Canyon Rangers). It is a “side” project that is growing over the years and for the first time we will take it to a festival, Wintergrass, in 2025.

With the Folk Project in Morristown, New Jersey, we started an annual event, the New Jersey Guitar Summit, an educational full-immersion event with a final concert (held in October). And also in New Jersey on January 11 and 12 we will have my “home concerts” with guest Bruce Molsky at the Prallsville Mills in Stockton, New Jersey.

If there were any picker, living or passed, that you could sit and pick with today, who would it be and why?

In this respect I am very fulfilled, because one of the greatest joys of my artistic life is that at different times I was able to play “Salt Creek” with Doc Watson, Norman Blake, Dan Crary, and Tony Rice, four fathers of the music I love.

Of course, if I had the time machine, I would also choose to play “Salt Creek” with another great father of flatpicking, Clarence White, who I never met because he died young in a car accident. Using the same time machine I would certainly travel to Paris to play with Django Reinhardt, then I would move to Argentina to make music with the tanguero Roberto Grela. In Portugal it would be wonderful to meet the Portuguese guitar passion of Carlos Peredes, while in Italy I would certainly love to meet the early 20th century virtuoso Pasquale Taraffo, the inspiration for so much of my research.

The most enjoyable jam session of the last few years was with guitarist Cameron Knowler, a young picker who amazed me by cultivating and carrying forward into modern times the sounds of Riley Puckett and Norman Blake, a sign that among the new generations there is a refined aesthetic sense that goes beyond fashions and gives us hope for the continuation of the forgotten beauties of the past.

Photo Credit: Giovanna Cavallo

‘Things Done Changed’ For Jerron Paxton – Now He Writes the Songs, Too

Posted on by Justin Hiltner

The music, sparse and spooky, sounds at the same time strangely universal and possibly from the last century, but as Jerron Paxton notes in his album title, Things Done Changed. The major difference on Paxton’s fifth album (including his 2021 duet set with Dennis Lichtman) is a big one. He wrote the songs.

“It wasn’t a very difficult decision,” Paxton said. “I had always had a list of tunes to record of my own compositions. I had to get enough cogent tunes to be an album, because you can’t have something that’s all over the place.

“You can’t have overtures with your hoedowns.”

The material on Things Done Changed is evidence that Paxton is no novice songwriter. These are words infused with hard living, what he calls “a good album full of blues tunes.”

In the standout track, “So Much Weed,” Paxton weaves amusement and a little resentment that there are Black people still serving time for minor drug offenses in an era when legal marijuana stores are in many states.

“Things done changed from the ’90s until now/ Lend me your ear and I’ll sure tell you how/ We got so much weed/ And the law don’t care/ My poor uncles used to have to run and hide/ Now they sit on their front porch with pride.”

A telephone call with Paxton is an adventure. He doesn’t back down and enjoys putting you on the spot if you’re susceptible to that.

A lot of your work is in vintage music styles. Why not a more contemporary sound?

Jerron Paxton: I play a diverse array of styles. I started off playing the banjo and the fiddle. As a matter of fact, I’m one of the few professional Black five-string banjo players in the world.

You have roots in Los Angeles and your family is from Louisiana. How did each of those places affect your music?

Well, I play the music of that culture, so it affected it in totality. It’s like being Irish and playing Irish music.

Could you give me a sense of how you evolved as a musician?

I started off with the fiddle and moved to the banjo and the guitar and piano and things like that. It was just a natural evolution, getting interested in one and that leading to another and to another, growing up in the house that was full of the blues. That’s mostly what my family listened to. [My aunt] almost listened to strictly the blues, while my grandma was kind of eclectic like me, and listened to everything. She liked Hank Williams and all sorts of country music and jazz and everything like that.

… I grew up in, first of all, a family full of Black people. So I got exposed to all sorts of Black folk music and Black popular music of every generation. You were just as liable to hear [Mississippi] John Hurt and Son House and Bukka White in my house as to hear Marvin Gaye, Michael Jackson, and Sam Cooke. If you heard bluegrass, that was mostly me. I was the one blasting Flatt & Scruggs and people like that.

You didn’t grow up in Louisiana, yet your music seems to be tied to music from the South.

My grandparents grew up there. My family migrated to Los Angeles with the death of Emmett Till and they brought their culture with them. But that doesn’t say much, because the majority of the culture in South Central [Los Angeles] is from Louisiana, so it’s not like we went someplace completely foreign. We went someplace where we were surrounded by people who were from where we were from.

I love the song “So Much Weed.” It’s a funny song about a serious thing, that there are many Black people in prison for marijuana convictions on charges that are now legal. Do people laugh when you play it?

I don’t play it live. Well, I don’t play it on stage. I usually play it in small gatherings for close friends.

Would you tell me more about your grandmother and how she influenced your music?

She was a fun, loving lady from northwestern Louisiana. My mother had to work, so I spent most of my time with [my grandmother] and grew up gardening and fishing, and getting the culture that you get when you’re raised in the house with your grandmother. Her mother was across the street. So I had four generations of family on one street.

So some of the songs on Things Done Changed were written some time ago. Why sit on them?

Some of the tunes were kind of personal and I just sort of kept them for myself and my friends. Other ones I had been singing on stage for a little while and said, “Maybe I should record this song first chance I get.” And other ones I had been singing since I was little, since my grandma helped find some words to them. So it’s all kinds of processes. Some of them take a lot of labor.

Do you mostly like to work alone live, or do you like to mix it up with other musicians sometimes?

It depends on the context. If I’m being hired as a soloist, that’s what you do, and that seems to be the most in demand. There’s not too many people who can go on the stage by themselves and hold the audience for 45 or 90 minutes or two hours with just the instrument. So people tend to hire me for that and there’s a lot of solo material unexplored because of that. But I play jazz music, so that’s a collective art. I play country music, which is also a collective art. I play blues music, which is a collective art. So you know, they’re all collective, but the solo is what people ask for. It travels easy.

So how would you like your career to develop? Do you have a plan?

I’d like to be filthy rich, just grotesquely rich and have a mansion with a lake. [Laughs] … But to be honest, I’m kind of enjoying building what I have, and I haven’t really seen any end to it. That might be a good thing. It just seems to be getting better. So I don’t see a need to worry about the end as much as how to make the best parts of what’s happening now last longer.

What kind of rooms are you working? Are you doing clubs for the most part?

I play festivals and basically any place that’ll have it, theaters and places like that. Any place that wants good music, I try to be there to supply.

Photo Credit: Janette Beckman

You Gotta Hear This: New Music From Andy Leftwich, Leeann Skoda, and More

Posted on by Justin Hiltner

For New Music Friday, we’ve got a healthy handful of new videos, tracks, and releases from your favorites artists in folk, country, bluegrass, old-time, and beyond.

Don’t miss new songs like Penny & Sparrow’s single “Jeopardy” and Helene Cronin’s take on mortality and togetherness, “Visitors.” Also, bluegrass outfit Seth Mulder & Midnight Run bring a Yellowstone-inspired cowboy number, “Looking Past the Pain (The Cowboy Song).” LA-based singer-songwriter Leeann Skoda debuts “Easy” in our round-up, as well, a new track with plenty of grit – and ’90s rock influences.

Plus, we’ve got a bevy of new music videos! Andy Leftwich performs an instrumental rendition of the gospel classic, “Talk About Suffering,” with an excellent trio. Check out the Hannah Connolly-crafted special live performance for “Worth the Wait,” a song from her most recent album, Shadowboxing. And old-time multi-instrumentalist and songwriter Evie Ladin picks “Walking Up Georgia Row” with fiddler Kieran Towers, celebrating her upcoming project, Ride the Rooster 2.

That’s not all, either! Earlier in the week, the second-to-last installments of the AEA Sessions (featuring Tony Arata this time) and Rachel Sumner’s Traveling Light Sessions (featuring her original “3000 Miles”) premiered on BGS. So you can check out those great performances below, too, and watch for the final edition in each series next week.

All of that musical goodness is right here on BGS – and You’ve Gotta Hear This!

Hannah Connolly, “Worth the Wait” (Live)

Artist: Hannah Connolly
Hometown: Eau Claire, Wisconsin
Song: “Worth The Wait” (Live Performance)
Album: Shadowboxing
Release Date: November 8, 2025

In Their Words: “‘Worth the Wait’ is a song about time, distance, and love. This video was captured last fall in Vienna, when my husband Eric and I were able to be on tour together. I was opening a few shows for his band Young the Giant’s tour and our friend and the band’s photographer, Lupe Bustos, filmed it when we had the afternoon off at the hotel. This song came out of missing Eric while he was on tour, so it was special to be able to capture it while we were traveling together. I’m grateful we were able to record a version of it in such a natural, unplugged form.” – Hannah Connolly

Video Credit: Filmed by Guadalupe Bustos.

Helene Cronin, “Visitors”

Artist: Helene Cronin
Hometown: Dallas, Texas / Nashville, Tennessee
Song: “Visitors”
Album: Maybe New Mexico
Release Date: November 29, 2024 (single); March 7, 2025 (album)

In Their Words: “I got together to write with Cameron Havens and Ben Roberts last year. Ben had the idea of ‘Visitors.’ I immediately loved it, because I like songs that tell the truth. That truth being, we all got here the same way, we’re all leaving the same way, and it’s what we do with the time in between those events that’s most important. How do we treat each other? How do we care for this ‘place made of stardust and gold’ where we’ve landed? What really matters: possessions, time, relationships?

“But the song avoids being preachy, speaking from a level playing field. No one is above anyone else. ‘We all got a seat at the table, pull up a chair, there’s room for plenty more.’ I like the inclusiveness of that; it’s an invitation I want to be part of.

“When I sing this song, I envision a huge, ever-expanding supper table where all are welcome, none are left out in the cold. Shouldn’t we just remember our manners? Wipe your feet and c’mon in!” – Helene Cronin

Track Credits:
Helene Cronin – Lead vocal
Bobby Terry – Acoustic guitar, pedal steel
Paul Eckberg – Drums, percussion
Matt Pierson – Bass
Charlie Lowell – Mellotron, keys
Caitlin Anselmo & Matt Singleton – Background vocals
Mitch Dane – Production, engineering, mixing
David Diel – Production assistant
Sputnik Sound, Nashville – Studio
Mastered by Kim Rosen, Knack Mastering.

Evie Ladin & Kieran Towers, “Walking Up Georgia Row”

Artist: Evie Ladin featuring Kieran Towers
Hometown: Baltimore, Maryland to Oakland, California
Song: “Walking Up Georgia Row”
Album: Riding the Rooster 2
Release Date: November 19, 2024
Label: Evil Diane Records

In Their Words: “Six years and one pandemic to the day since Riding the Rooster came out – my popular first edition of clawhammer banjo/fiddle duets with 17 different fiddlers around the country. Riding the Rooster 2 features 17 new and different fiddlers, from old-time stars like Bruce Molsky and George Jackson to bluegrass maven Laurie Lewis, Cajun master David Greely, and excellent fiddlers known deeply in their old-time subcultures around the world.

“Having released many records of my original songs, this project sits firmly in the wheelhouse of my upbringing and ongoing community. My favorite thing in this milieu is to sit down with a fiddler and launch fast into some crooked tune I’ve never heard. Every cell kicks in and the experience is much like I imagine riding a rooster to be – visceral, in the moment, somewhat off-the-chain. ‘Walking Up Georgia Row’ is a raging duet with London fiddler Kieran Towers, recorded in a cow pasture at the Crossover Festival in England. Kieran and I met at Clifftop in West Virginia, playing in the very early morning hours before he had to head back to the UK, and it was a joy to reconnect a few years later, and invite him to be a part of this record. Also, this tune and the album are being released while I’m on a packed two-week tour of the UK, with only one fiddler, Sophie Wellington.” – Evie Ladin

Andy Leftwich, “Talk About Suffering”

Artist: Andy Leftwich
Hometown: Carthage, Tennessee
Song: “Talk About Suffering”
Release Date: November 15, 2024
Label: Mountain Home Music Company

In Their Words: “Life can deliver some hard blows and no one is exempt from troubles and trials. We read in Matthew 11:28 where Jesus said, ‘Come unto me, all ye that labour and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest.’ He offers us peace in the middle of our storm and a confidence knowing we don’t have to walk through it alone. As bad as it can seem sometimes, there is always something to hold onto. We talk about suffering here below, but let’s keep following Jesus.” – Andy Leftwich

Track Credits:
Andy Leftwich – Fiddle, mandolin
Byron House – Upright bass
Cody Kilby – Acoustic guitar

Seth Mulder & Midnight Run, “Looking Past the Pain (The Cowboy Song)”

Artist: Seth Mulder & Midnight Run
Hometown: Sevierville, Tennessee
Song: “Looking Past the Pain (The Cowboy Song)””
Album: Coming On Strong
Release Date: November 15, 2024 (single); Spring 2025 (album)
Label: Rebel Records

In Their Words: “I had just finished binge-watching Yellowstone and felt inspired to write a cowboy song. However, I wanted the song to feel personal and unique and the best way to do that was to draw from my own experiences with a touch of imagination. Growing up in North Dakota, I spent a lot of time around horses, training with my grandfather, competing in 4H and horse shows. After college, I moved back to North Dakota and worked at a camp as a horse trainer and ranch hand. That experience rekindled my passion for working with horses – a passion that almost became my career instead of music. So, it only made sense that I would eventually write about that lifestyle. Once I had a solid foundation for the song, I knew it had potential but I wanted it to be perfect. I reached out to my good friend Seth Waddington from The Waddington Brothers. He helped me refine it, giving the lyrics that old-school cowboy feel I was after.” – Seth Mulder

Track Credits:
Seth Mulder – Mandolin, lead vocal
Colton Powers – Banjo, tenor vocal
Chevy Watson – Guitar, baritone vocal
Tyler Griffith – Upright bass
Max Silverstein – Fiddle

Penny & Sparrow, “Jeopardy”

Artist: Penny & Sparrow
Hometown: Florence, Alabama / Waco, Texas
Song: “Jeopardy”
Album: Lefty
Release Date: November 15, 2024
Label: I Love You / Thirty Tigers

In Their Words: “‘Jeopardy’ is about knowing someone perfectly. It goes beyond tracking their needs & preferences & peccadillos. It grows into a kind of loving memorization where you can almost see the future. Whether it’s romantic, friendly, or familial, there’s something gorgeous about that kind of ‘knowing someone.'” – Penny & Sparrow

Leeann Skoda, “Easy”

Artist: Leeann Skoda
Hometown: Los Angeles, California / Phoenix, Arizona
Song: “Easy”
Album: Now I See Everything
Release Date: November 15, 2024

In Their Words: “I channeled some anger into this song. When I wrote it, I was feeling resentful of the time and energy I’ve spent trying to be easygoing because I thought it was the only acceptable way for me to be in the world. It’s how so many women feel or have felt. There’s this dichotomy because the song feels “easy” and almost light to me. I think it came out that way because it’s cathartic and freeing to put these feelings into music. Like a lot of my songs, there is plenty of ’90s rock influence in this one.” – Leeann Skoda

Track Credits:
Leeann Skoda – Vocals, guitar
Brad Lindsay – Guitar
Nick Bearden – Bass
Ed Benrock – Drums
Brian Whelan – Background vocals
Produced, Recorded and Mixed by Andy Freeman at Studio Punchup! in Nashville.
Background vocals recorded by Aaron Stern at Verdugo Sound.
Mastered by Gentry Studer.

AEA Sessions: Tony Arata, Live at Americanafest 2024

Artist: Tony Arata
Hometown: Savannah, Georgia
Songs: “When I Remember You,” “Here I Am,” “The Dance,” “Getting Older”

In Their Words: “My hometown is Savannah, Georgia, but I grew up on nearby Tybee Island, which I always claim as my hometown. Jaymi and I have been in Nashville since 1986.

“The shoot was done in one of my favorite places I’ve ever worked – Bell Tone Studios in Berry Hill (Nashville, Tennessee), and could not have been easier nor more relaxed. I know I met you, Julie, for the first time that day, but you made me feel like an old friend. And though I’m not a gear-head, the mics were super cool! Thank you for making and representing great stuff. And I love Roger Nichols, my only hope is that he never realizes how talented he is, because he might be hard to live with! He is a truly brilliant musician/engineer/producer/human.” – Tony Arata

More here.

Rachel Sumner, “3000 Miles”

Artist: Rachel Sumner & Traveling Light
Hometown: Boston, Massachusetts
Song: “3000 Miles” (Traveling Light Sessions)
Album: Heartless Things 
Release Date: November 14, 2024 (video); May 10, 2024 (album)

In Their Words: “‘3000 Miles’ is an autobiographical song that traces my journey from the deserts of California to Boston, the place I now call home. Growing up, the Mojave felt confining to me and I always sensed that I’d need to leave to find myself. This song is a rambler’s road song, shaped by years of searching. However, it took the stillness of lockdown to finally finish it – when I couldn’t travel anywhere. That pause gave me the chance to look back and make sense of all the miles I’d put behind me.” – Rachel Sumner

More here.

Photo Credit: Andy Leftwich by Erick Anderson; Leeann Skoda by Anna Rochelle Imagery.

Billy Strings Could Play Whatever He Wants – And Still Chooses Bluegrass

Posted on by Justin Hiltner

The first time I heard Billy Strings’ name was in 2014, from a guitar picking pilot friend of mine from northern Kentucky who was working up in Michigan. I first met him at the Frankfort Bluegrass Festival in Illinois two or three years later, by which time I’d played a song or two from the Fiddle Tune X album on the satellite radio show I was hosting with Del McCoury. Billy had either recently gotten or was about to get his first IBMA Award for Momentum Instrumentalist of the Year (his then-roommate, Molly Tuttle, got one at the same time).

After that, I’d see him from time to time – I was already writing songs with fellow Michigander and Billy’s across-the-street neighbor Lindsay Lou – but it wasn’t until June 18, 2018, that we got together to write our first song, “Love Like Me.” We wrote a few more after that, he went into the studio, and put most of them on 2019’s Home. Since then, working as a team with another Michigander, Aaron Allen, we’ve written many more, for Renewal and now for Highway Prayers, too. To be honest, it’s been a little life-changing – a taste, at least, of what it must have been like for Music Row songwriters back in the day.

One striking feature of Billy’s trajectory has been his ability to keep the enthusiasm of the normative bluegrass industry and community that the IBMA generally represents; my social media feeds regularly remind me that most of the stalwart traditionalists among my friends – people who grew up immersed in scenes that trace back to the music’s earliest days – aren’t dissing Billy Strings. They’re cheering him on. That hasn’t always been the case with bluegrass artists bringing the sound and the songs to larger-than-usual audiences, but it’s indisputable here, as three successive IBMA Entertainer of the Year awards (finally supplanted this year by Del, another traditionalist admirer) demonstrate.

The reason, I think, is that, as BGS Editor Justin Hiltner puts it in his Artist of the Month reveal essay, “the most innovative and revolutionary aspects of Billy Strings and his version of bluegrass are not what he’s changed, but what has stayed the same.” When the BGS team invited me to have a chat with Billy for Artist of the Month, I figured it was, among other things, an opportunity to dig deeper into that idea – and so I did.

Together, we talked about recording Highway Prayers, about working in a band, about writing songs and making set lists. We talked about a number of things, but somehow always wound back up, again and again, at the endlessly rewarding music of Mac Wiseman and Larry Sparks, “Riding That Midnight Train” and “Cumberland Gap,” “Uncle Pen” and more.

Does it get any more bluegrass than that?

You didn’t record Highway Prayers all at once, did you? Wasn’t it recorded over a while?

Billy Strings: Right. We started in January out in LA at EastWest Studios, with Jon Brion the producer and Greg Koller at the helm as engineer. We recorded a few tunes out there. I really love what we got sonically, but I just don’t know if being in LA while trying to make a record was right for us – we were right downtown in freaking LA, man. I felt like, “What the hell am I doing out here in this big city where all these movie stars are, trying make a record?” I was working with Jon [Brion], who is a genius, that’s where he likes to work and the sounds we were getting were awesome and everything was cool, but I think it was also at a time where I was wanting to get the guys together without a producer and just throw stuff at the wall.

So we threw a makeshift little studio together and brought in Brandon Bell, and that’s where we recorded a good bulk of it – just threw up a couple of mics with a little lunch box of pre-amps and went for it. We would sit there and work a song out and then go upstairs and cut it. The great thing about being at my house was, it’s like there’s no authority figure there and it doesn’t feel like a studio – it just feels like we’re at band practice. And if you wanted, while somebody’s trying to do a overdub or something, you could go for a bike ride. Just that in itself was mentally freeing.

I will say that the tones we were getting out there with Jon were unquestionably better to me. But I’m kind of in the spot where I’m just, like, “Does it really matter?” Well, even if most people listen to music on their damn phone, it does matter. That’s how you make a sound that can evoke emotion. But also, as a bluegrass musician, any time we get with somebody or something, it’s like, “We should record you guys on these old ribbon mics and straight to tape with no edits,” and it’s just like, “Well, dude, it’s 2024.”

I feel like in some ways when people do that, they’re kind of privileging the process over the result, when the result is what people are gonna hear and what they’re gonna relate to.

Yeah, I’m just chasing something and I’m not trying to think about it too much. I read something in a book the other day, it’s called Blues and Trouble, by Tom Piazza. He says that sometimes you can push an idea up a hill, and you gotta push and push to get it to the top of the hill, but sometimes an idea gets going and you have to run to keep up. That’s where I like to be – you know what I’m talking about as a songwriter – when it just kind of falls out. Those are the best ones, you know, and quite a few of these songs just rolled off the page. Like “Be Your Man,” for instance, I wrote it in 20 minutes; it just came out. Of course there are other ones you have to work hard on, but, man, those – I just love when they show up like that, it almost feels like you just siphoned it out of the ether. Who wrote the song, you know?

That’s something that I’ve heard a lot over the years from a lot of great songwriters: it’s just like pulling it out of the air, and it kind of falls right in there. When you’re in that zone, you can’t hardly beat that.

No, you gotta keep going with it, you know. It’s hard to get in that zone, and like I said, it’s rare for me, it might only happen a couple of times a year that I write a song like that. That’s how “Dust In a Baggie” was. I wrote it in 30 minutes at work – I didn’t even have a guitar, I just had the melody in my head and a little notepad. I was cleaning rooms at the hotel and I sat there and wrote that. That’s still how the song is today, you know, it was just… it was done. Finished.

Let me ask you a little bit more about your process more generally. What’s the role of the guys in the band? You know, in the bluegrass world, at one extreme you’ve got the Jimmy Martin style of bandleader, which is, you know, “This is my sound, and this is how you’re gonna do it, and I will tell you what you need to do and show you what you need to do.” Then, on the other end, you’ve got somebody like Bill Monroe or J.D. Crowe, who says, “I brought you in to do your thing and let’s see how it fits together with everything else going on there.”

I very much lean towards the latter. I’ve got such amazing musicians that I’d be stupid not to listen to what they’ve got to say, you know? They’re so amazing and each one of them has their own strengths. So it’s a good mixture of like, I’m the band leader, kinda what I say goes, but I also take into consideration everything that the guys say. Sometimes I really need their advice and ask for it– like, for instance, most of the time I write the set list, but sometimes … I’ll go to the front lounge and say, “Hey, what do you guys wanna play tonight?” And then some ideas will come at me.

They’re there when I need them and they also don’t take anything personally when I say, “Hey, no.” It just depends, because sometimes it’s touchy when you write a song and somebody else wants to try to change it. But sometimes, if you hear them out, the idea that they come up with is way better. It just takes you a second to see what they’re talking about.

What you said about Crowe, bringing people in to do their thing, that’s really what I want. I don’t wanna be the dictator. I wanna be somebody who’s in a band. My whole life, my friends have been my family, especially when I was a teenager and started playing in bands. The word “band” means a lot to me. It means my brotherhood, you know, my closest friends and family.

That leads me to something that I don’t know if I’ve ever seen anybody else talk to you about this. You’re constantly bringing new material into the band – not originals, but older songs, old bluegrass songs. You’re always refreshing the repertoire. Are you just listening to old stuff all the time and hear something and say, “Man, that’s cool, let’s start doing that”? How does it work?

There’s a lot of songs in my head just from growing up playing bluegrass and we still haven’t scratched the surface of it. You know what I mean? Like, one night I’ll just be thinking of my dad in the old days, how we used to pick down around Barkus Park, and I get feeling sentimental or something and all of a sudden we’re gonna play “Letter Edged in Black” or whatever.

There’s just a whole well of tunes to pull from the bluegrass songbook and I like to mix it up. Like, if we did “Cumberland Gap” last time, then let’s do “Ground Speed” this time and if we did “Ground Speed” this time, next time let’s do “Clinch Mountain Backstep.” And then sometimes you play a tune and it feels good, so then it will stick around – like we’ve been playing “Baltimore Johnny.”

I guess having the guys in the band that you do helps, because a lot of them already know those tunes – or at least have some idea how they go, so you can work something up pretty quick.

Yeah, and they’re quick learners. Most of the time I wake up at the hotel and I’m stressing until I can write a set list, until it’s finished. Otherwise I can’t take a nap, because it’s a puzzle every day. There’s so many people that come to every single show of ours and we see the same people in the front row every night. I just don’t wanna feed them the same thing for dinner. I wanna mix it up.

Sometimes it takes two or three hours to make a set list. I’m doing it all on my iPad, so I’m not actually crumpling up paper and throwing it in the waste basket, but that’s what I’m doing. I’ll make a set list and I’ll go, “Oh, fuck that, that’s garbage.” And then eventually I’ll land on something that I feel is suitable or whatever. But it’s a puzzle every day. And then usually there will be a song or two on there– back in ’23, or maybe ’22, we played a new song every single show of the entire year. Every set that we played, we debuted a new cover. That was a task; once we got halfway through the year, it was like, “We gotta keep it going.”

So these days, it might not be every single show that we’re having to learn a new song, but we’re definitely having to refresh on things and arrangements and stuff. Every day before a gig, if we go out on stage at 8:00, then 6:45 or so we’re getting our instruments and sitting down and we’re starting to talk through some shit. Sometimes we’re learning these songs. And then sometimes we go out there and wing it. I like to be in that space, too. A lot of times, if we over rehearse things and think about it too much, somebody will fuck it up. But if we just get the basic idea down and go out there and somehow believe in ourselves, then we get through these songs.

Leaving the covers aside, I was reading a review of Highway Prayers and the guy who wrote it seemed almost baffled by the fact that it’s really a bluegrass album. And it is, from “Richard Petty” to the opening song that you wrote with Thomm [Jutz], to “Happy Hollow” and even “Leadfoot.” These are songs that, to me, are almost super-traditional in the forms that they use and the melodies.

Do you feel like your ear is kind of trained enough to feel comfortable with reusing folk materials, for lack of a better term? Like “Leadfoot” has this “Lonesome Reuben” kind of sound to it – but it’s not “Lonesome Reuben,” either. That’s gotta enter into your process a lot, I would think.

Not consciously. I grew up playing bluegrass and sometimes when I’m trying to write a song, that’s just how I think about it. When I first started writing, back when I was 16 years old, I would just rewrite “Riding That Midnight Train” or something. Not trying to, I would just write a song and then I would be like, “Oh, fuck, this is just ‘Riding That Midnight Train,’ it’s just the same melody. I can’t even call this my own song. But now, with a song, I show it to the band guys and they’ll say, “I don’t know, I think it’s your tune.”

I’m just trying to chase the idea, and not get in its way, and not let anything – especially from the outside world – into my brain to influence my direction. When I’m writing something good, it’s like I’m trying to write in my diary or something – or like I’m trying to write a bluegrass song that is [reflective] of my childhood and my love for the music. It’s that sentimental feeling that I get when I hear bluegrass music, that I love it so much, that it reminds me of my childhood. That before I knew anything dirty about the world, there was this love for bluegrass music and that’s the kind of music I wanna make.

I’m a bluegrass man. You know, we do all this other stuff, and I write other songs too, but at the core of it all is a bluegrass musician who was fed Doc Watson and Bill Monroe and Larry Sparks. So that’s the stuff that I like. I’m still listening to the Stanley Brothers all the time. I’ve listened to this shit my whole life and I still haven’t heard it all, you know?

You could do pretty much whatever you wanted, and yet you are still, at the core, playing bluegrass music.

What’s authentic? You know? I’m trying to not lose myself to this fucking big monster, you know what I mean? Because, yeah, I could get a drummer and pick up my electric guitar. I could put on a cowboy hat and join that whole bandwagon, too. But that’s not me and it’s not true. I don’t care about that shit. The more that I’m in this industry, the more that I’m just trying to stay true to myself and my music, because I see past all the bullshit and see past the glam of it. And I’m so grateful – so, so grateful – to have a fan base that will allow me to just wear a pair of blue jeans on stage and play three chords and the truth at them.

I feel like if I went and changed it up too much, then I might lose a bunch of those folks. And that’s hard, too, because sometimes I feel like we need a drummer. We’re in these giant arenas, it’s like, “Man, if I had a drummer and I could pick up the Les Paul, we could just fucking chop heads.” And I do enjoy that, too, because that is part of who I am. When I got out of playing bluegrass so much, when I was a kid, I played some electric and some Black Sabbath and shit – so there’s some of that in there.

But what I play is what’s in my heart, man. And that’s why I’m still playing Mac Wiseman songs, and there’s something – it’s almost like a freaking kink or something. I just love it so much. I love playing “It Rains Just the Same in Missouri” to a big crowd of people, or “I Wonder How the Old Folks Are at Home, or “The Baggage Coach Ahead,” or any of these old [songs].

You get out on the big arena stage like that and you play “Uncle Pen,” it’s like, “Fuck, yeah!” It’s kind of like just force-feeding these people bluegrass, and I love it, you know.

(Editor’s Note: Continue exploring our Billy Strings Artist of the Month content here.)

Photo Credit: Dana Trippe

Out Now: Morgan Harris

Posted on by Justin Hiltner

Our next artist on Out Now is Morgan Harris, solo artist, old-time guitarist, and member of the Tall Poppy String Band (with Cameron DeWhitt and George Jackson). Her new solo album, Alone Will Tell, is a reflective work featuring twelve tracks.

Harris reinvents this collection of traditional tunes with a stark, raw, emotive sound. Traditional music toes a line between preserving the sounds (and sometimes the values) of the past while embracing the innovations of the future. In our interview, we talk with Harris about that central conflict in traditional music, where many individuals feel the need to “uphold tradition” – which often can be used as justification for discrimination.

This is Harris’ first release as a transgender musician. Alone Will Tell honors traditional music while illustrating innovation and transformation. We are proud to feature Morgan Harris on Out Now.

Why do you create music? What’s more satisfying to you, the process or the outcome?

I don’t know if there’s a reason I make music, other than “I like it” – it’s both as simple and as enormously complicated as that implies. I guess it’s the process that I find most satisfying, by which I mean the parts where I’m actively learning, creating, and collaborating. I’m not very good at sitting back and appreciating what I’ve created (though I’m trying to get better at that). Even as the process can be frustrating and confusing at times, and it can be tempting to think, “I’ll be satisfied if I can just finish this project,” I try to remind myself that the act of making is what I’m in it for. That’s where I ultimately find the most meaning.

You play in a trio as well, Tall Poppy String Band. How does it feel to release this album as a solo act? How does the intimacy of your solo work differ from the collaborative energy of playing in a group?

Releasing a solo record definitely feels more vulnerable! In Tall Poppy String Band I have the luxury of having two incredible musicians to support me and lend their energy, but when it’s just me, there’s no one else to lean on and nowhere to hide. Having said that, it also allows me to delve into certain aspects of my playing more deeply than I could otherwise. I love the sense of space that becomes possible when playing solo and not having to be heard over other instruments means I can really use the full dynamic range of the instrument.

You’ve mentioned that this album was shaped by “long familiarity and patient questioning.” Could you share more about what that process has been like for you, both musically and personally?

Most of the tunes and songs on this album have been with me for a while, but they’ve only taken shape very gradually. I think that’s because I’ve allowed myself to be more patient with the material – rather than rushing to pigeonhole it based on how I think it (or I) ought to sound. I’ve felt more able to let it develop in its own time, slowly uncovering what feels like the most honest and rewarding approach for me to take. And, I think I partly have my gender journey to thank for that. So much of my transition has involved a parallel kind of process, of learning to resist jumping to quick conclusions about myself (based in anxiety and internalized expectations) and trusting that in doing so, I would gradually get better at tuning in to something deeper, more elusive.

What does it mean to you to be an LGBTQ+ musician?

Queerness (and particularly trans-ness) can still be a rarity in trad music, meaning it’s easy to feel isolated in those spaces, especially when one is first considering coming out. But there is a small community out there of wonderful, welcoming queer trad musicians. I want to do my part to nourish that community and to help make queerness in these spaces not just feel like a possibility, but a given.

Also: while old-time music is a rich and beautiful tradition, it can tend to attract the type of person who links it to some imagined “simpler” past of traditional values, when people neatly and happily fell into their prescribed gender and social roles – while ignoring how such systems required, and still require, savage enforcement in order to exist.

Who are your favorite LGBTQ+ artists and bands?

I’m continually inspired by many amazing queer musicians in the old-time world, such as Jake Blount, Tatiana Hargreaves, Rachel Eddy, and Cameron DeWhitt, just to name a few. On a completely different note, I think Lena Raine’s music is incredible – her soundtrack to the video game Celeste means a lot to me.

What’s the best advice you’ve ever gotten?

“Give it time.” Suddenly realizing a few years ago that I might be trans, and all the questioning and experimenting that followed, was extremely scary and destabilizing. I often found myself anxious to quickly come to some kind of decision about what it all meant, to restore some small sense of stability. It was so helpful to be reminded in those times that I didn’t need to have the answers immediately. It takes time and practice to learn to listen to who you are, and to deconstruct the toxic stuff you’ve internalized about yourself. Even the uncertainty itself becomes more familiar with time. I took comfort in the idea that, whatever the result, I was undoubtedly doing something out of love and care for myself.

What would a “perfect day” look like for you?

Maybe hanging out at a swimming hole with my partner and our dog, thrifting something cute, getting hazelnut gelato, and playing old-time tunes all night with my best music pals from around the country. If I could somehow combine all of these, that would be pretty hard to top.

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

I’m looking forward to touring solo in 2025 and sharing the music on this record with more people! And as usual I’ll be playing shows with my group Tall Poppy String Band. We also have plans to record a new album together next year, so I’m really excited for that.

Photo Credit: Renee Cornue Studio