Tag: Outlaw Country

Cody Jinks:
“You Never Stop Coming of Age”

Posted on by Justin Hiltner

For Texas country star Cody Jinks, his latest album – the fiery and rough-around-the-edges, yet poignant and sorrowful In My Blood – is a liberation of sorts. Not of sound or scope, but of self.

It comes from the eternal quest to find balance within the body, mind, heart, and soul of a singer-songwriter, one trying to understand just what it means to be human in the modern, chaotic world – which is why “Better Than the Bottle” was purposely placed as the opening track on the record.

“Been layin’ things down one habit at a time/ Never thought we’d get old…” Jinks rumbles through the melancholic number. “Now we’re damn sure tryin’/ And makin’ the most of the time that we have left.”

With his sobriety in recent years, Jinks has been taking a hard look at what he sees in the mirror. It’s not about having regrets or cringing at one’s past. Instead, it’s taking personal accountability and professional inventory of the wisdom gained from your existence in real time, all while the calendar on the wall seemingly changes faster and faster each year.

Now 44, Jinks is more focused on what’s just around the corner than continually looking back over his shoulder at the ups and downs along his life’s journey. It’s about a clear head, a keen focus on what matters most – family, friends, fellowship, the freedom to create and perform.

It sounds like you’re in a really good place right now.

Cody Jinks: Yeah. Well, whenever you’re a late bloomer like me, it takes you [til] later in life to figure things out. It’s a practice. I mean, obviously the last couple years I’ve been trying to work on myself, work on my family. And I think it’s helped a lot creatively, as well. None of it’s been easy. It’s not like anything’s ever peaches and cream or roses or whatever. The music business is tough, and if it was easy, everybody would do it. I spent much of my marriage while I was on the road. Having been off the road the last four or five years, [not touring] as much as I used to be, I’ve learned that being a great husband and father is even harder than being in the music business.

And it all ties into everything though, because that creative side is also a big balancing act, where you need that outlet in your life.

Well, not only the creative outlet, it’s that I used to think that I was writing songs that are being vulnerable and they actually came across as being angry. There was an edge to [the older songs], where this new record really sounds like a guy that’s 45 years old that got tired of the fighting system. You get tired of just fighting everything. And I’ve obviously been fighting the music business my entire career. It’s kind of what I built my thing on.

And, at the same time, you know, I had started bringing the guy in the music business home – that’s who my wife and kids had to live with, as well. So, we’ve been correcting some stuff like that. I’ve been getting some really vulnerable songs out of it. You never stop coming of age. No matter how old you get – when you’re in your teenage years, when you get in your forties – life is a continual movement, man. And if you are not moving forward, you’re going backwards. So, vulnerability is a strength to an extent.

How does that play into the album? I would surmise that the opening track [“Better Than the Bottle”] was purposely placed there.

I was actually going to speak to that track specifically, because that was the second to last song written on for this record. I wrote it with a friend, Tom McElvain. We both quit smoking cigarettes. We quit doing recreational drugs. We’ve written together a lot over the years. I’ve got several songs with his name on it, but [“Better Than the Bottle”] was a real conversation.

He came over one morning, and in 20-plus years of friendship, it was the first time we had ever been around each other stone cold sober. We were talking about how we used to live versus how we’re trying to do things now and who we’re trying to be now for ourselves and for the people that we love, the friends that we lost along the way that didn’t pull out of it. We’re old enough to have friends that have died from it now. That song made its way to the first slot because it was everywhere – that song’s true. Tom was over here that morning in January and you talk about two grown men in their 40s and 50s just laying all out, teary eyes. Dude, we fucked a bunch of shit up in our lives and there’s a lot. At this point, we’re trying to atone for a lot of things.

That’s one of the beauties about getting older – perspective. There’s this kind of weird intrinsic value to hitting this age, where you still have mobility and your wits about you, but you also got some road miles on the tread.

[Laughs]. Yeah. At 40, I tell people the “check engine” light comes on. It’s not usually that serious, but you gotta change some things. It might be time to trade in the Lamborghini and get an F-150, slow down a little bit.

You have a family, as well, with these personal responsibilities and people that want you around for a long time.

That was really the big player. I quit smoking for my kids. I’d still probably be smoking cigarettes if it weren’t for my kids. I quit drinking for myself and for everybody around me. But, the cigarettes, I finally got that licked about five, six years ago. That was the one my doctor said, “Your kids are gonna thank you.”

This year also marks the 10th anniversary of your breakout album [Adobe Sessions]. I don’t know if you’ve been thinking a lot about the last 10 years, who that person was when you broke into the national scene and then who you are right now.

[I’m] a lot more patient [these days]. It’s been 10 years, [and back then] we’d been [playing for] 10 years by the time that breakout record came out. [I] still have hunger in this business, I just put in a smarter, more calculated manner these days.

I also found it interesting that you’ve mentioned Ray Bradbury as an inspiration for In My Blood. Can you speak to why that is and what he represents for you?

Yeah, absolutely. The focal point of the record, it’s a travel life, right? That’s where the record takes you, on this up and down journey of life. And, in that life, in everyone’s life, every fork you come to in the road, you take one way or the other, which leads you to another fork in the road. By the time you’re done, you’ve taken a bunch of forks, you’ve taken a bunch of different roads, and hopefully you took more good forks than you did take the bad [ones].

We planted a Ray Bradbury inspired song (“Something Wicked This Way Comes”) right smack dab in the middle of this damn record, because it was the perfect frickin’ spot for it. It’s the only song that was snuck in the record that wasn’t really based on my life. If you’ve read the [Bradbury] book Something Wicked This Way Comes, it’s part of a series called the Green Town Trilogy. They’re all really good [books], but that one stands out. It’s my favorite. It’s a brilliant book. It’s good and evil.

We all have the same wants, needs, desires. What’s good for us? What’s not good for us? Is it good for me if I try to do this to obtain this or achieve this or to be this or to look like this? And those are the decisions that we make every single day. I had just read the book and I came up with this really badass little blues riff. It feels like a carnival ride.

That also plays into one of the things about getting older, which is that you choose to keep moving forward. When you’re younger, you might feel the pressure. And as you get older you realize that there’s a lot of things that you don’t need to worry about.

Yes. My parents had told me, “Don’t sweat the small stuff.” And then, when you’re at the age we’re at, the big stuff you thought when you were 20, 25 years old, you’re [now] like, “Well, that’s small stuff.” And then, by the time you get to our parents’ age, they’re looking at stuff we’re worried about in our 40s and they’re thinking, “Oh, that’s small stuff.” We’re gonna get to the point, hopefully, where we’re looking at [things] going, “Ah, man, why was I worried about that?”

Case in point, the other night we had a very mild water leak in the upstairs [of our house]. My daughter came downstairs at two o’clock in the morning and there was dripping on a custom turntable in our living room. This was nobody’s fault. And I got upset about it. We stopped the leak. We dried the water up. I woke up the next morning and there’s flooding in Central Texas and there’s like a hundred families who have lost their children. Let’s not sweat the small stuff, man. Some people got real problems.

There’s probably a lot of weight that’s come off your shoulders in the last couple years, whether it’s personal or professional. Obviously life’s a continued journey. Whether you want to participate in it or not, that’s up to everybody on their own. But, it feels like you’re kind of leaning into life in a really good way right now.

Yeah, I’m living it more, as opposed to getting up and butting heads with [life] every day.

How do you square that with the outlaw image that the media puts on you? Because there’s stereotypes that get equated into that. At your core, you’re a singer-songwriter, you’re a country musician.

You know, my whole career, they’ve been calling me [an “outlaw”]. Look, I know they need an “outlaw,” whatever. I’ve never called myself an outlaw. That was something the media called me, and I just agreed. I’ve kind of gone with it. It’s okay. It’s easy to call me that. I’m not an outlaw, dude. I’m a punk.

And underneath all of that is still your punk rock and metal blood.

Yeah. It’s too big a piece of me. It’s just who I am. It’s the way I run my organization. It’s a family. It’s us against the world. We don’t belong with anybody, so we belong to everybody.

Photo courtesy of The Oriel.

Flatland Cavalry’s 10th Anniversary Compilation, ‘Flatland Forever,’ Traces Their Rise

Posted on by Justin Hiltner

Ten years after a band of college friends played their first show in Lubbock, Texas, Flatland Cavalry have finally stopped moving to take a look around. Released in early November, their latest album, Flatland Forever, is a 25-song chronological opus, sampling key tracks from their six acclaimed albums. But, as with most things the band does, it isn’t your typical “greatest hits” package.

Also finding space for a few unreleased gems, Flatland Forever traces the contours of a remarkable roots music rise. This Cavalry has ridden to the rescue of countless country fans, pushing an indie ethos deep into the mainstream while retaining a self-contained spirit, and the Forever project offers new listeners an easy way to get up to speed.

Their 10 years have seen Flatland gather 500 million streams and a Gold certification for the tender “A Life Where We Work Out,” while establishing their live-band cred alongside the genre’s best and brightest. 2024 alone saw them score their first ACM Awards nomination (for Group of the Year), plus high-profile Hollywood placements in Yellowstone, Twisters, and more.

They also marked their first headlining shows at iconic venues like Red Rocks Amphitheatre and Ryman Auditorium, and they made a triumphant return to Texas on December 31, headlining Fort Worth’s Dickies Arena for the first time. Then it’s on to the Flatland Forever Tour – kicking off February 7 in Atlanta – with a new setlist to match the album in scope and satisfaction.

It definitely seems like a good time to take stock of how far Flatland Cavalry has come, and in a conversation with Good Country last month, lead singer and songwriter Cleto Cordero does just that. Breaking from a peaceful morning in Nashville which found him “sitting like a hippie or a cat and letting the sun hit me in the face, just breathing,” Cordero explains where Flatland Forever came from, and what it feels like to pass a true milestone.

Why don’t you start by telling me how you’re feeling these days. This is definitely a milestone that most bands never even imagined they’ll reach. So how’s it feel?

Cleto Cordero: It feels really good. It feels like a lot of hard work paying off and proof that persistence can get you where you aspire to go. It’s been a long journey, but you wake up one day and it’s like 10 years later and heck, man, you’re walking in the dream that was just in your head 10 years ago. So it feels good. It’s affirming.

That’s a beautiful thing for sure. It’s been ten years since the band started. I just wonder, are you still feeling inspired by music making?

We stay pretty busy on the road, so it is challenging to find that zen where, to me, the songs come from. But that’s why I’m seeking it. That’s why I’m sitting in the sun in my library. I just listened to a meditation last night and it was a lecture by Neville Goddard, and he’s talking about being still – it’s like the old biblical scripture, “Be still know that I’m God.” I think as much as we move and shake and hustle and bustle, that place where songs come from in my heart seems harder to hear. So I have to seek that inspiration and try to convene with it every day.

Tell me a little bit about Flatland Forever and the idea behind this. It seems like the key for you guys was to make it more than a greatest hits package, right?

The idea was initially brought to me by Matt Morris at Interscope Records, who we began working with last September. He had an idea like, “Y’all have so many great songs. And for someone that doesn’t know who Flatland is, it’s kind of a lot to chew on. Maybe there’s a way we can put all the songs in one place on a compilation.” And as he was saying that, I told him I had an idea for an album that I want to make one day called Flatland Forever. I was like, “That’s literally what I envisioned it to be.”

So his idea and mine kind of melded together and then I didn’t want it to just be stuff that we had already released. I wanted to throw in some unreleased songs or stuff that we had recorded but never shared, and it morphed into this smorgasbord of old and new.

As you were putting it together, did you notice any creative growth? As you went back through these older songs, how did they line up with the new stuff?

I mean, a [new] song called “Three Car Garage,” that’s something I could imagine myself writing last week or something. … I think if you listen to the start of the album and then you make your way on to the very end, it will be a journey hearing us evolve sonically and lyrically and all that stuff. … But I wrote that one when I was in college and I had skipped class one day and I was just sitting in my garage.

I took a look around and the books I’d been reading at the time, like, “write about what you know,” so I just took a look around and that’s literally the vantage point of me sitting in the garage. But there’s also some other meaning to it as well, because the bridge is like, “If you’re bored and got nothing to do, change your point of view.” It captures a youthful spirit. I’m glad it came out 10 years later – whenever we sing it, I’m like, “Okay, that’s young, hopeful, optimistic, enthusiastic Cleto.”

Since the album covers the band’s whole history, does it also kind of capture the spirit of a live show?

It does. The good thing about having a lot of songs to play is you have a lot of variety, but then we’ve been on this Wandering Star Tour and I really want to give those songs a chance. But yeah, the idea of Flatland Forever is this compilation thing, so our next tour will be named after that and I feel like we can play anything from the vault in any order. … It’s making me think a little bit, creatively. Like, I can start off the show with “Sleeping Alone” or it can be totally different every night and any song.

What’s it feel like to get to go to Fort Worth to Dickies Arena and headline?

A dream come true. We’ve worked really hard for 10 years to get to a place where we can fill up a room with hopefully 10,000 people. I mean, we played Fort Worth the last two years in a row, two nights each at Billy Bob’s – which is like 5,000 people [each night]. Our booking agent told me last New Year’s Eve, “Hey, the next time you play Fort Worth, it’s going to be at the arena.” And so this date has been a year in my brain. It’s been the little lighthouse on the coast. All the shows we played this year, to me it’s all like, “What have I learned? What can I apply to this big show on New Year’s Eve?” And hopefully, Lord willing, I do envision that for us – to put on an arena show and take it everywhere.

“A Life Where We Work Out” is now Gold-certified. Congratulations on that. What does that accomplishment mean to you?

I feel lucky and grateful, because that song was written about a relationship that I had messed up. Now it’s like a mistake I had made and how a mistake can turn into a Gold record is pretty ironic and kind of crazy. But I don’t say that at the expense of the other person on the other end of that relationship. It was just a dumb, young college kind of thing. But how that turned into a Gold record, meeting my wife, and our biggest song. I think God [or] the Universe has a sense of humor. You know what I mean? Even if we screw it up ourselves so badly, it still can turn into something golden. So I feel really lucky and grateful.

My favorite part of the record is what you guys end up doing with “Mornings With You.” Including the work tape and then also the fully fleshed-out version is really cool. Are you trying to show fans something with that?

Yeah, so before a song gets recorded, there’s always a work tape cut first, or else we’ll forget it. … And no one ever gets to hear that. I just wanted to share that with the fans, and there’ll be a deluxe version of the record that comes out. … It’ll have commentary about the work tapes and more acoustic versions and stuff. So it’ll be more that kind of stuff.

I will just leave you with the big picture. What do you hope your fans are going to take away from Flatland Forever?

The takeaway is that a little band made of college kids followed their dreams and, 10 years later, they have a small little pile of work that they’ve worked towards year after year. That’s the amalgamation of it. And if anything, it’s just a testament that if you pursue your dreams and work hard and don’t give up on it, then you can literally do anything that you aspire to. That’s what I hope people can take away. And the last song, “Chasing a Feeling,” talks about that.

Photo Credit: Fernando Garcia

13 Roots Music Book Recommendations From 2024

Posted on by Justin Hiltner

2024 served up a treasure trove of great music books – too many to encapsulate in a concise way. However, it’s still worth a try! So, here is a look at some notable books (in no particular order) that should hold an appeal to the BGS community. This baker’s dozen hopefully provides a diverse and interesting sampling of what has been published over the past year.

There are biographies of superstars like Joni Mitchell and Dolly Parton alongside important if underappreciated figures, such as guitarist Jesse Ed Davis and the Blind Boys of Alabama. Look into the lives of bluegrass icons Tony Rice and John Hartford led by those that knew them while Joan Baez, Lucinda Williams, and Alice Randall each released memoirs that told their life stories in fascinating ways.

There are books here, too, that examine sub-genres like the world of busking and the outlaw country movement, as well as scenes from the musical history of Greenwich Village and the story of a little-known but significant music project that was part of FDR’s New Deal.

There’s a little something for everyone, whether for your holiday shopping list, your winter break stack of books “to be read,” to use up those bookstore gift cards, or for your 2025 resolution to sit down and read more.

Traveling: On the Path of Joni Mitchell by Ann Powers (Dey Street Books/HarperCollins)

2024 was a big year for Joni Mitchell, with her captivating appearance at the GRAMMY Awards representing another major milestone on her amazing recuperation from her 2015 brain aneurysm. NPR music critic (and occasional BGS contributor) Ann Powers extensively examines the many sides of Joni Mitchell in this stimulating and provocative book. Powers makes it clear from the get-go that she isn’t a biographer and compares her work here to being like a mapmaker. It makes total sense then that Powers entitled the book Traveling. The word not only references Mitchell’s tune “All I Want,” but it also reflects the numerous paths that Mitchell has traveled down during her long, storied career – a journey Powers incisively and insightfully explores over the course of some 400-some pages.

Dolly Parton’s White Limozeen by Steacy Easton (Bloomsbury)

Steacy Easton followed up their Tammy Wynette biography, Why Tammy Matters, by tackling an even larger female country music icon: Dolly Parton. Part of the acclaimed 33 1/3 book series, this compact tome focuses on Parton’s popular 1989 album White Limozeen. Easton views it as a pivotal work for Parton as it represented a triumphant rebound from her roundly disappointing 1987 release, Rainbow. Besides delving into how the Ricky Skaggs-produced White Limozeen found Dolly returning more to her country roots from the more pop-oriented Rainbow, Easton also uses her album as something like a prism to look at Dolly’s wildly successful career and her iconic persona.

Don’t Tell Anybody the Secrets I Told You: A Memoir by Lucinda Williams (Crown)

Fans of Lucinda Williams’ songs may think they know her through her lyrics, which are often drawn from Lu’s own experiences. Williams’ memoir, however, reveals more about her extraordinary life than even her deeply felt lyrics have expressed. The book is especially strong in covering her quite turbulent childhood involving her father Miller Williams (a poet/professor long in search of tenure) and her mother, Lucille, who suffered from manic depression. Fittingly, Williams prefaces her book by listing the many places where she lived (a dozen before she was 18) which reflects her rootless childhood and set her up for a home in the Americana music pantheon. While the title suggests a racy tell-all, the book feels more like having the great pleasure of listening to Lucinda intimately tell stories from her life – what more could you ask for?

Washita Love Child: The Rise of Indigenous Rock Star Jesse Ed Davis by Douglas K. Miller (Liveright)

Jesse Ed Davis is a name that probably is not familiar to most music fans. Lovers of ’70s rock might recognize his name as a guitarist who worked with the likes of Taj Mahal, Eric Clapton, Neil Diamond, Ringo Starr, John Lennon, and George Harrison (Davis performed at the fabled Concert For Bangladesh). Those who know him from those gigs, however, might not even know that Davis was a rare Native American in the rock ‘n’ roll world. He only really made his Indigenous heritage prominent when he teamed with Native American poet/activist John Trudell during the ’80s in the Graffiti Band. Sadly, Davis’ career was derailed due to alcohol and drug abuse, which also led to his death in 1988 at the age of 48. In this vividly told biography, Douglas K. Miller, a professor of Native American History at Oklahoma State University, turns a spotlight on this ground-breaking and underappreciated musician.

Down On The Corner: Adventures in Busking & Street Music by Cary Baker (Jawbone Press)

For his debut book, longtime publicist and journalist Cary Baker turned to a lifelong music interest of his: street musicians. Early on in this book, he relates the transformative moment when, as a teenager, he was taken by his father to Chicago’s famous Maxwell Street where he saw bluesman Blind Arvella Gray perform on the street. This experience not only led to his first journalism work, but it also launched a love for street music. His enlightening book, which is broadly divided geographically, profiles buskers from across America and Europe. Down On The Corner is populated with colorful characters like Bongo Joe, Tubby Skinny, and Wild Man Fischer along with well-known musicians, such as the Old Crow Medicine Show, Rambling Jack Elliott, Billy Bragg, Fantastic Negrito, and Peter Case, who share tales about playing on the streets.

My Memories of John Hartford by Bob Carlin (University Press of Mississippi)

My own memories of John Hartford are of him playing on Glen Campbell’s TV show. He seemed so cool and laidback – and he could play banjo with lightning-fast virtuosity. Happily, Bob Carlin has more interesting memories about the legendary musician, and he comes to this book from a pretty unique perspective. Carlin first met Hartford when he interviewed him in the mid-1980s for the radio program Fresh Air. Carlin (himself an award-winning banjoist) later performed with Hartford and even became his de facto road manager. In his book, he deftly balances his background as a journalist and position as a longtime friend in telling the story of Hartford, who was a true crossover star bluegrass musician of his time.

Discovering Tony Rice by Bill Amatneek (Vineyards Press)

Like Bob Carlin with John Hartford, Bill Amatneek has a privileged perspective when it comes to writing about his subject, the late, great Tony Rice. Amatneek, a musician as well as writer, spent several years playing with Rice in the David Grisman Quintet. Rice was one of the best-ever flatpicking guitarists (and a terrific vocalist) whose career was undercut by illnesses and his own personal demons. Amatneek constructed his book as an oral biography, built around stories told to him by fellow musicians who knew Tony, like Sam Bush, Béla Fleck, Peter Rowan, and Jerry Douglas along with Rice family members, allowing readers to discover the bright and dark sides of this bluegrass master.

Talkin’ Greenwich Village: The Heady Rise and Slow Fall of America’s Bohemian Music Capital by David Browne (Hachette Books)

As its title plainly states, Talkin’ Greenwich Village discusses the renowned area of New York City that has been a center for bohemian arts culture for decades. The book can be described as a “biography” of both the people (Dave Van Ronk plays a prominent role throughout this story) and the places (particularly the clubs, such as the Bottom Line, Kenny’s Castaways, Gerde’s Folk City, and the Bitter End) that populated the Village’s music scene from 1957-2004. (Browne here basically concentrates on the West Village.) The author of books on the Grateful Dead, CSN&Y, and Sonic Youth, Browne does a masterful job at bringing this neighborhood to life during its many eras. The Village holds a special place in Browne’s heart; he discovered the neighborhood as an undergrad at NYU just as the new folk scene of the early ’80s was brewing. His passion shines through in his storytelling.

My Black Country: A Journey Through Country Music’s Black Past, Present, and Future By Alice Randall (Simon & Schuster)

You may have already heard about Alice Randall and her book right here, on BGS and Good Country. My Black Country has received great acclaim (NPR listed the book among its “Books We Love” for 2024) and justifiably so. An author, professor, and songwriter, Randall tapped all her talents in creating this inspiring work that addresses her life story and investigates the history of Black country music, which she traces back nearly a hundred years to when DeFord Bailey performed on Nashville’s WSM radio station. It should be noted, too, that this isn’t just a Nashville-centered book; it explores Black country music made all across America. Besides enjoying Randall’s literary creation, you can also enjoy her songwriting craft too; Oh Boy Records released an eponymous compilation of Randall-penned tunes interpreted by such artists as Rhiannon Giddens, Allison Russell, Valerie June, and Leyla McCalla. (Of which, Giddens’ performance of “The Ballad of Sally Anne” is nominated for a GRAMMY for Best American Roots Performance.)

Spirit of the Century: Our Own Story by The Blind Boys of Alabama & Preston Lauterbach (Hachette Books)

The Blind Boys of Alabama are a remarkable story. Remarkable in the sense that the vocal group came into existence around 1940 at the Alabama Institute for the Negro Deaf and Blind and made their way out into the world through the gospel music circuit. And it is remarkable, too, that the Blind Boys of Alabama not only remain a group today (they describe themselves as the “longest running group in American music”), but they have earned five GRAMMYs (and a Lifetime Achievement Award) as well as an NEA National Heritage Fellowship. Preston Lauterbach (author of books like Beale Street Dynasty and The Chitlin’ Circuit) has done an eloquent job weaving together stories from band members and other musical colleagues, and turning them into this absorbing biography.

Willie, Waylon and the Boys: the Ultimate Outlaw Country Primer by Brian Fairbanks (Hachette Books)

This book is something of a biographical combo platter. The first nine chapters concentrate on the “Mount Rushmore” of outlaw country: Willie, Waylon, Johnny, and Kris. Those 240 pages are packed with colorful tales of the foursome, whether on their own or together as the Highwaymen. At that point, the book pivots and explores outlaw country’s legacy in the form of the alternative country scene that was burgeoning during the ’90s, as the Highwaymen were ending their run (their third, final, and least successful album came out in 1995). Fans of alt-country and “new outlaw” artists might wish for a deeper dive into this scene. The chapter on “The New Highwaymen” (built upon the idea of guys like Chris Stapleton, Jason Isbell, Ryan Bingham, and Sturgill Simpson as a new outlaw quartet) feels a bit too speculative. Fairbanks, however, is on stronger footing with his “Highwaywomen” chapter, which looks at the actual supergroup collaboration of the Highwomen, featuring Brandi Carlile, Natalie Hemby, Maren Morris, and Amanda Shires that, among other things, countered the male dominance of the original outlaw movement.

A Chance to Harmonize: How FDR’s Hidden Music Unit Sought to Save America from the Great Depression—One Song at a Time By Sheryl Kaskowitz (Pegasus)

This is a book for history buffs who love music – and vice versa. Author Sheryl Kaskowitz (who previously wrote a book on the history of the song “God Bless America”) has dug up the story on a little-known music unit that was part of the New Deal. This U.S. government program led by Charles Seeger (yes, the father of Pete) sent out musician/agents (noted American ethnomusicologist Sidney Robertson was one prime participant) to gather up folk songs around the country. The goal was to use these songs to build community spirit at homestead communities launched by federal government under the auspices of the Resettlement Administration. The projects were considered radical and controversial back then and, consequently, were very short-lived. Fortunately, however, more than 800 songs were recorded and have been stored away in the Library of Congress.

When You See My Mother, Ask Her to Dance by Joan Baez (David R. Godine)

Joan Baez spent over 60 years making music and touring. While she has basically retired from music, Baez hasn’t put an end to expressing her creativity. In 2023, she released a book of drawings and in 2024, she published this book of poetry. There are at least a couple of notable aspects to this poetry project. Baez has long been known more for being an interpreter of songs rather than a songwriter, so it is intriguing to see more of her writer side expressed in this collection. Also, she has struggled with dissociative identity disorder (AKA multiple personality disorder, a topic addressed in the powerful documentary Joan Baez: I Am A Noise). Baez candidly states in the Author’s Notes that some of the poems are “are heavily influenced by, or in effect written by, some of the inner authors,” adding intriguing layers to her creative process – which she displays through the pieces collected in this book.

 

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

Posted on by Justin Hiltner

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Photo Credit: Natalie Rhea

Kris Kristofferson’s Most Human Moments

Posted on by Justin Hiltner

After passing away on September 28 at the age of 88, Kris Kristofferson has rightly been eulogized as a renaissance man without compare. It makes sense, since the colorful character’s legendary resume includes time as a Rhodes scholar, Golden Gloves boxer, U.S. Army Ranger, Golden Globe-winning actor, janitor at Columbia Studios, and helicopter pilot who once brought Johnny Cash a demo by landing on the superstar’s front lawn.

In fact, it was only after all of these accomplishments that Kristofferson became the icon we remember – a songwriter’s songwriter, and one of the most authentic and impactful artists to hit country and roots music since its development. Yet his longest-lasting gift to all of us may prove to be his humanity.

Emerging onto an American landscape just beginning to feel the pangs of decay – the “Sunday Morning Coming Down” of its post-war glory – Kristofferson’s work found beauty in even the ugliest moments life had to offer. He broke every mold of what a country star “should” be, choosing substance over style, embracing the unwanted, and cutting a trail for generations of artists to follow. Stunning empathy seemed to be his primary tool and as a man of many lives, he was well suited to put himself in the shoes of whatever characters he conjured up.

That deep well of human empathy might be the source of his gravity on camera and on stage. Maybe that’s why his songs came alive for the 450 other artists who covered them. But whatever it was, Kris Kristofferson accessed emotion and compassion without pretension. His humanity will live on now like a beacon, guiding others away from the shallow posturing of country songcraft and toward the authentic depths of the art.

In honor of his life, legacy, and impact, here are eight moments where Kris Kristofferson’s humanity shined bright.

“Help Me Make It Through the Night” on The Old Grey Whistle

After his debut album in 1970, Kristofferson made frequent TV appearances with duet partner and soon-to-be-wife Rita Coolidge – with one capturing his tender side especially well. Singing “Help Me Make It Through the Night” on the UK variety show The Old Grey Whistle in ‘72, Kristofferson and Coolidge were just a few months away from their marriage and seem enchanted with each other. Sharing a microphone and never more than a few inches apart, you can almost feel the sensual spark.

“Help Me Make It Through the Night” on The Muppet Show

Same song, different duet partner – and a totally different view of Kristofferson as an artist. Fast forwarding to 1978 and Season 3 of The Muppet Show, the respected singer-songwriter showed he was good sport by doing “Help Me Make It Through the Night” with none other than Miss Piggy. Clean shaven and re-creating the close proximity of the first clip, Kristofferson could barely hold back the laughs as he serenaded a swooning swine – then lost it completely as Miss Piggy broke into the chorus. Hopefully he and Kermit patched things up later.

“Sunday Morning Coming Down” on The Johnny Cash Christmas Special

Later in 1978, Kristofferson had the chance to perform alongside an idol and show his respect for the artist who had done more to popularize his work than any other. Joining Johnny Cash for the Man in Black’s yearly Christmas special, Kristofferson was left almost speechless as Cash introduced the vivid “Sunday Morning Coming Down,” which they then took turns singing. After Cash noted he’d been making the song his own for years, Kristofferson responds, “Up until now that was the proudest moment of my life. Now this may be the proudest.”

“Me and Bobby McGee” on Austin City Limits

Kristofferson appeared on Austin City Limits a few times, but in 1981 he had a hot band behind him and that led to a rollicking delivery of his biggest rock hit, “Me and Bobby McGee.” Made famous by the late Janis Joplin 10 years before, the freewheeling anthem put Kristofferson’s range – and a sense nostalgic joy – front and center. Although, there’s still a tinge of sadness embedded in the tone. From our perspective now, the iconic line “Freedom’s just another word for nothing left to lose,” is matched only by “I’d trade all my tomorrows for one single yesterday.”

“For the Good Times” with Tanya Tucker

Kristofferson always looked more comfortable in a flannel shirt than a black tie, but in the long run, that only made him more endearing. Joined by Tanya Tucker on a 1982 awards show, Kristofferson climbed into a tux and delivered the one-last-time anthem “For the Good Times” in classic pop style. Backed by an orchestral score and with Tucker taking the lead, it was a rare ballroom-country presentation of a song also recorded by Ray Price, Al Green, and more, which proved the Hollywood heartthrob would truly rather be hanging out with friends at the local dive.

“The Hot Dog Tree” with Pee Wee Herman

By 1988 Kristofferson had built up decades of acclaim as an actor, artist, songwriter – and as an international sex symbol. But he was never too big to have fun. Playing opposite Pee Wee Herman in the kid’s comedy Big Top Pee Wee, Kristofferson slipped into silliness with an easy charm. The iconic scene sees Pee Wee unveiling his top-secret Hot Dog Tree to Kristofferson, and the star’s initial skepticism – and then child-like awe – will brighten any day. Despite being held up as a talent of rare caliber, he never took himself too seriously.

Encouraging Sinéad O’Connor at Madison Square Garden

If you want to know about Kris Kristofferson’s character, look no further than what he did for Sinéad O’Connor at New York’s Madison Square Garden in October 1992. A few nights earlier, O’Connor had shocked the nation by protesting the Catholic Church’s still-under-wraps sex abuse scandal on Saturday Night Live, ripping up a photo of Pope John Paul II as cameras rolled.

When she then took the stage for Bob Dylan’s 30th anniversary concert, the crowd erupted in boos. As O’Connor stood there, unable to begin her performance through the rain of jeers, Kristofferson stepped beside her and spoke the famous words of encouragement, “Don’t let the bastards get you down.” He didn’t try to save her or get her off stage, or diminish her in any way – he just let her know she wasn’t alone. For her part, O’Connor went on to scream sing an a-capella rendition of “War” over the crowd, before staring them down as she left the stage. She said the moment created a lifelong appreciation for Kristofferson.

“Loving Her Was Easier (Than Anything I’ll Ever Do Again)” with Rosanne Cash at Willie Nelson’s 90th Birthday

Kris Kristofferson made his final public performance in 2023, appearing at the Hollywood Bowl in honor of his longtime friend Willie Nelson’s 90th birthday. The moment was filmed for a special airing on CBS and gave us one last moment with an icon.

After a shaky walk to the microphone, Kristofferson joined Rosanne Cash for an arm-in-arm rendition of “Loving Her Was Easier (Than Anything I’ll Ever Do Again),” a devastating ballad first released at the start of his career. Following Cash’s lead with a wide smile and a twinkle in his eye – one armed raised in triumph – Kristofferson soaked up the moment, while the rapt attention of the audience evolved into a thunderous applause. As Cash adapted the song’s hook to address Kristofferson himself, the whole world seemed to send him out on a high note:

Loving you was easier than anything I’ll ever do again…

Photo Credit: Scott Newton, courtesy of New West Records.

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

Posted on by Justin Hiltner

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Photo Credit: Stacie Huckeba

NEWS: BGS Announces New Brand, Good Country

Posted on by Justin Hiltner

BGS is proud to announce the launch of a new brand in 2024: GOOD COUNTRY. By this point, you may have seen or heard mentions of Good Country on our site, at our events, and on our socials feeds as we prepare this exciting new expansion for our readers and fans.

Launching in mid-January 2024, Good Country is a curated, bespoke email newsletter that will highlight all good country from across the roots music landscape. Every other week, GC will deliver high-end country music reporting, long reads, playlists, videos, and exclusive content from your favorite country artists direct to your email inbox. As you scroll, you’ll dive into the deep and broad world of Good Country, from gritty and raw Americana to glitzy and glamorous radio hits, from bluegrass supergroups to southern rock ensembles and swampy string bands. Sign up for Good Country now.

“Good Country is a brand new horizon for BGS,” says managing editor Justin Hiltner. “But, at the same time, it’s nothing more than a reinforcement of our values as a media company and roots music community. Country – like its family members bluegrass, folk, and Americana – is more than just music, it’s a lifestyle, an identity, a way of being. There’s so much good country being made out there right now and we know our audience agrees. Whatever ‘good country’ means, you’ll know it when you hear it. And you’ll hear plenty of it in this newsletter!”

Each issue of Good Country will center features, think pieces, and interviews penned by the best writers and thinkers in country music highlighting not just the biggest names in the genre, but new and upstart artists as well. Exclusive newsletter content will live alongside deep dive playlists, sonic explorations, and thoughtful examinations of what country is, who makes it, and to whom it can belong – everyone.

BGS co-founder, actor, activist, and musician Ed Helms, will be featured in each issue as well with “Ed’s Picks,” artists and bands selected by Helms himself, direct from his own listening.

“From the very beginning, BGS was forged on a foundation of celebrating the full spectrum of roots music fans and artists,” explains BGS co-founder Amy Reitnouer Jacobs. “This community has never been one thing, nor has it been static. It’s a diverse, expansive, and ever-changing art form. The same can and should be said for country music. And that’s why now is the perfect time to create a more representative media landscape. It’s time for Good Country.”

Good Country’s first issues will feature music, art, and content featuring Zach Bryan, Sierra Ferrell, Amanda Fields, Veronique Medrano, Shania Twain, Chris Stapleton, Vincent Neil Emerson, Brittney Spencer, and so many more. No matter your entry point to this music, with our new brand and newsletter you will find endless Good Country to enjoy. Interact with content in your email inbox, on our website, and on our social media – wherever you are, Good Country will meet you there.

Good Country isn’t about deciding what is or isn’t good country music. Good Country is a place. It’s a way of looking at the world, a way of enjoying music. If you think it’s good and you think it’s country, then you’ve found Good Country.

Sign up now to be one of the first readers to receive Good Country direct to your email inbox. And, begin your exploration of Good Country with our BGS Class of 2023: Good Country year-end list.

Photo Credit: Zach Bryan by Trevor Pavlik; Vincent Neil Emerson by Thomas Crabtree; Sierra Ferrell by Bobbi Rich.

Willie Nelson’s ‘Bluegrass’ Underlines His Lifelong Relationship with the Genre

Posted on by Justin Hiltner

“He was exceedingly cool and easy,” long-time Bill Monroe bassist Mark Hembree remembers about Willie Nelson’s presence at a 1983 recording session where Nelson sang and played with Monroe. “I never had a say in Bill’s mixes, but they had Willie’s guitar way up and as we listened to playback he mentioned it, then turned and asked what I thought,” Hembree wrote in a recent exchange of messages. “I agreed, a little surprised he would ask me.”

People who hear about Willie Nelson’s latest album, Bluegrass, before hearing the music might ask, “Wait, what? What does Willie Nelson have to do with bluegrass music?”

Upon listening, at least two answers come to mind: 1) Much more than you might think. 2) Don’t worry so much.

With tunes by Nelson, one of the best American songwriters, played by notable pickers, the record contains strong music that should sound welcome to fans of Nelson, of bluegrass, and of the field with the loose label, “Americana.”

It’s a given that in more than 60 years of major-label recording, Nelson, 90, has been better known for presenting his own songs, enduring tunes such as “Crazy,” “Hello Walls,” and “On the Road Again,” the last of which is heard here in a new version. But he’s also made his name with notable covers – like “Blue Eyes Crying in the Rain,” “Seven Spanish Angels,” “Blue Skies,” and others – in a welter of styles, including blues, pop standards, and even reggae. Nelson’s core music enfolds ‘40s and ‘50s country, traditional fiddle tunes, four-square gospel, ragtime, some swing flavorings, and definitely a heap of blues. The mix also includes more contemporary pop. Subtract some of that last bit of material, throw in some lonesome mountain banjo and ballads, and you’ll find, in different proportions, foundational bluegrass as designed by chief architects like Bill Monroe and Earl Scruggs.

Legacy Records, the Sony division putting out Nelson’s Bluegrass disc, says the style “was given a name by Kentucky songwriter/performer/recording artist Bill Monroe and the Blue Grass Boys, whose post-war recordings profoundly influenced Willie’s songwriting sensibilities and the direction of American country music in general.” They go on to say, “Willie chose songs combining the kind of strong melodies, memorable storylines and tight ensemble-interplay found in traditional bluegrass interpretations of the roots (from European melodies to African rhythms) of American folk songs.”

And it’s pretty much on target. But what else speaks to Nelson’s involvement with bluegrass?

Let’s return to the early ‘70s, when he famously abandoned a Nashville scene where he had achieved songwriting fame and a recording career. But Music Row had flagged in creativity and opportunity, he and others thought. And yes, at the end of 1969, his house had burned down. By 1972, Nelson’s persona was changing as his new approach revisited his Texas roots. The year saw new-breed stars like Kris Kristofferson showing up at the first Dripping Springs Reunion, a Texas country music festival. The show, which was to morph int0 a string of outdoor throwdowns known as Willie’s Fourth of July Picnic, presented a bluegrass contingent led by Monroe, with foundational figures Earl Scruggs and Lester Flatt leading their post-breakup bands, as
well as additional notables including Jimmy Martin.

Jo Walker, executive director of the Country Music Association, told the Austin-American Statesman that the trade group was delighted to hear about the Dripping Springs Reunion. “So many of the rock festivals and similar events have reflected so unfavorably on the music industry that we are particularly happy that your reunion will be a Country Music show.” But with Nelson embracing a new, youth-driven fan base and a long-haired, bandana-ed look, what did country music even mean?

There was a growing correlation, it seemed, between the increased popularity of bluegrass and the emergent outlaw (read: long hair, free-thinking, whiskey-drinking, dope smoking, etc.) movement in country music, led by Nelson and Waylon Jennings. Its bluegrass surge was sparked in part by the Earl Scruggs Revue’s broad acceptance in non-traditional venues like college campuses and hot sales for the Nitty Gritty Dirt Band’s Will the Circle Be Unbroken. Back in Nashville, in 1973, wider acceptance of bluegrass also meant that Monroe, his former Blue Grass Boy Flatt, the brilliant wildman Jimmy Martin, and the great brother team of Jim & Jesse McReynolds would join Nelson amid the crowd of stars at CMA’s second annual Fan Fair celebration.

In 1974, both Scruggs and Monroe, as well as Grand Ole Opry stars Ernest Tubb, Jeanne Pruitt, and Roy Acuff appeared on stage singing with another wildman, country-blues rocker Leon Russell. That’s documented in a photograph of this period, likely from a Willie’s Picnic. Quite a lineup.

A version of the picture found on the web says the shot is from A Poem is a Naked Person, a documentary on Russell by esteemed filmmaker Les Blank shot between 1972 and 1974, but not released until 2015. Nelson appears in the movie to sing “Good Hearted Woman” – also on this new album – playing guitar bass runs that would work fine in bluegrass. He also backs up fiddler Mary Egan, of the Austin “progressive-country” band Greezy Wheels, on an energetic version of the bluegrass-country perennial “Orange Blossom Special.”

In 1974, Nelson went to work in the soul-music capital of Muscle Shoal, Alabama, to record a milestone disc on his road to making records his own way. The album, Phases and Stages, which won over both fans and critics, contains prominent five-string played Scruggs-style on the hit “Bloody Mary Morning,” which also returns on Bluegrass.

The 1983 Bill Monroe session referenced above came after a last minute February 22 phone call from Nelson to let Monroe know he was available to appear on the in-progress Bill Monroe and Friends album for MCA Records. That’s according to a passage in the indispensable book, The Music of Bill Monroe, by bluegrass scholars Neil Rosenberg and Charles Wolfe.

“[Engineer, Vic) Gabany recalls that on February, 22, 1983, Monroe called the studio and asked if it was free that afternoon,” Rosenberg and Wolfe write. “Willie Nelson was in town, and he wanted to rush in and cut the duet with him. Fortunately, it was. Moreover, the Blue Grass Boys were all available, and Haynes was able to round up studio musicians Charlie Collins and Buddy Spicher.”

Monroe’s original tune with Nelson, “The Sunset Trail,” shows the impact of another style, cowboy music, that both men favored. Nelson reaches into his upper range to sing below Monroe, who’s going way up there, as was his wont. “It’s a thrill of my life to be here with you,” Monroe says as he and Nelson exchange praise in the track’s introduction.

In 1990, Monroe accepted Nelson’s invitation to perform at the April 7 Farm Aid IV concert in Indianapolis. “We’re glad to be here with Willie Nelson!” he said to kick off a set marked by powerful singing, crisp mandolin picking, and a little crowd-pleasing buck dancing. The show placed Monroe, 79, in a lineup that included stars such as Elton John and Lou Reid. The Indianapolis Star estimated the crowd at 45,000.

During Monroe’s last years — he died in 1996 — he often spoke to Nelson on the phone, according to a person who didn’t want to be identified, but often spent time at Monroe’s home on the farm outside Nashville during that period. “He valued their friendship immensely,” the person said.

Bluegrass‘s 12 songs contain several Nelson compositions that became standards of his repertoire, along with less familiar tunes that also fit in the recording approach overseen by Music Row’s Buddy Cannon. A songwriter and producer, Cannon is known for delivering big songs, like “Set ‘Em Up Joe” for Vern Gosdin, and chart hits for more recent mainstream acts such as Kenny Chesney, John Michael Montgomery, and Reba McEntire. A frequent Nelson collaborator, Cannon assembled a list of Nashville co-conspirators: Union Station members Barry Bales, on bass, and Ron Block, on banjo; former Union Station member and current rising star Dan Tyminski on mandolin; fiddler Aubrey Haynie; Dobro man Rob Ickes; Seth Taylor also on mandolin; as well as harmonica player Mickey Raphael, who’s worked for decades in Nelson’s band.

The music mostly doesn’t come off as hard-core bluegrass in the mode of, say, the Stanley Brothers. But it leans on the elements that Nelson has in common with the style — lonesome melodies, classic country, swing and blues.

The mournful “You Left Me a Long, Long Time Ago,” from 1964, reflects the straight-country songwriting to which Nelson and others brought a terse, modern beauty in the late ‘50s and early ‘60s. It was a time when bluegrass enjoyed a closer co-existence with mainstream country, as opposed to straining against the tight format borders that limit today’s music business. Among the many artists who crossed back and forth freely were guitarist-songwriter, Carl Butler, fiddler Tommy Jackson, and Cajun star Doug Kershaw. They all worked with Monroe.

A new version of “Sad Songs and Waltzes” mourns in tones not too different from Monroe favorites ranging from “Kentucky Waltz” to “Sitting Alone in the Moonlight.” The song also recalls the 3/4 time Lone Star tunes that Nelson might have heard at the Texas Fiddlers Contest and Reunion.

That show got going in 1934 in Athens, Texas, just one year before Nelson arrived on the scene in Abbott, less than 90 miles away.

The fiddle contests that influenced so much of Texas music beginning in the 19th century, had parallels in the 18th century Southeast, where contests featured both the fiddle and the banjo, with its African roots. This music went around, and it still comes around.

The sock-rhythm backing of “Ain’t No Love Around” recalls early Blue Grass Boys recordings such as “Heavy Traffic Ahead,” recorded September 16, 1946, and featuring Earl Scruggs’ first recorded banjo solo. Elsewhere, the laidback favorite, “On the Road Again,” gets a more intense reading from Nelson, with some vocal and instrumental improvisation to spice it up. The mystical “Still is Still Moving to Me” leaves plenty of room for pickers to range far and wide on banjo, mandolin, fiddle and Dobro.

“You give the appearance of one widely traveled,” Nelson sings in “Yesterday’s Wine.” He’s singing from a faraway spot in time, in myth, in history. It’s a stance that’s earned a place on bluegrass playlists for more recent songwriters such as Guy Clark, David Olney, and Gillian Welch.

“Bloody Mary Morning,” from Phases and Stages gets the most recent of several revivals from Nelson, who led a jam-grassy version in the 1980 film Honeysuckle Rose and later sang it in a duet with Wynonna Judd. The song’s forthright tale of fighting the blues by having a highball on a plane seems somehow classier than the constant tales of beer and pickups that populate country radio.

In the end it seems clear that for decades, both Willie Nelson and bluegrass music have served, in different ways, as a conscience of country music. Just as the Solemn Old Judge, WSM radio announcer George D. Hay, commanded, they “Keep her close to the ground, boys,” although their paths have diverged, at times.

In any case, this new collection brings Nelson together with bluegrass pickers for music that might even work to serve that same worthy purpose.

Photo Credit: Pamela Springsteen

LISTEN: The Waymores, “Under Your Spell Again”

Posted on by Justin Hiltner

Artist: The Waymores
Hometown: Atlanta, Georgia
Song: “Under Your Spell Again”
Album: Greener Pastures
Release Date: August 25, 2023 (album); July 21, 2023 (single)
Label: Chicken Ranch Records

In Their Words: “‘Under Your Spell Again’ was originally recorded by Buck Owens in 1959. It’s been covered lots of times since, but not by anyone in a very long time. This was the first song that we recorded in these sessions. Shel Talmy sent a long list of old standards for consideration and when we saw this one listed, we knew we had to choose it. We did our best to try and combine the original Buck version with the Waylon Jennings and Jessi Colter version because we’re The Waymores and if Waylon did it, we kinda have to. Lyrically, it’s near impossible to NOT relate to – and the hook in this song is really hard to let go of. Ask my Mom, who’s had it in her head since we recorded it in July of 2022.” – Kira Annalise

Photo Credit: Lindsay Garrett

LISTEN: Dallas Burrow, “River Town”

Posted on by Justin Hiltner

Artist: Dallas Burrow
Hometown: New Braunfels, TX
Song: “River Town”
Album: Blood Brothers
Release Date: June 16, 2023
Label: Soundly Music

In Their Words: “The record kicks off with the true story of my youth in small town Texas; the leaving, and the coming back to start a family, all with an outlaw country back beat, dressed up with fiddle, organ, and electric guitar, and producer Jonathan Tyler singing harmonies. The hill country of the Lone Star State,  and my hometown in particular, is a community that revolves around its rivers, lakes, and swimming holes, offering folks, and especially kids growing up there, an eternally timeless pastime. Even still, I have always been a bit of a free spirit, and as a young man I felt like the town wasn’t quite big enough for my taste. After getting in a little trouble, doing a lot of traveling, fast living, and soul searching, and finally meeting my wife and starting to settle down a little, in the end, I realized just what a beautiful area it was to live in after all, and the perfect place for us to raise a kid.” – Dallas Burrow

Photo Credit: Madison Taylor