Tag: Outlaw Country

Willi Carlisle’s ‘Peculiar, Missouri’ is Both Extraordinary and Simple

Posted on by Justin Hiltner

Musician, folklorist, and instrumentalist Willi Carlisle is a bona fide troubadour in genres often populated by mimics and pretenders. But even so, and quite strikingly, his professional and artistic persona is not at all cast through a “greater than thou” light – or through the self-righteousness with which most creators stake their claim to the outlaw fringes of roots music. His debut album on Free Dirt Records, Peculiar, Missouri, is a testament to this dyed-in-the-wool road dog’s commitment to a populist, accessible, and identity-aware brand of country music. 

Peculiar, Missouri is all at once intimate and grand. Brash and rollicking radio-ready singles intermingle with raw, “warts and all” tracks that sound live and visceral, tender and ineffable. Stories of cowhands and wagon-train cooks and circus performers and legendary figures are peppered with queer text and subtext and underlined with a class consciousness. The result is not only inspiring, it will stop a listener dead in their tracks.

But the pause that this album supplies is not due to Peculiar being demonstrably extraordinary. Just the opposite. The simplicity, the downright everyday-ness of this record is its shining accomplishment. The seemingly infinite inputs that Carlisle distills, synergizes, and offers to the listener – regional roots music, old-time country, queerness, vaudeville showmanship, folklore and storytelling, the Ozarks, poetry, and so on – are perfectly synthesized in a remarkably simple and approachable format. Peculiar, Missouri is fantastically free, but not scattered. It’s extraordinary in its refusal to be anything other than ordinary. 

We spoke to Carlisle via phone ahead of his appearances this week at AmericanaFest in Nashville, where he’s excited to continue to grow the community that centers around the small business of his music. “I want to play a hundred and twenty, a hundred and fifty shows a year. I want to work my ass off,” he explains, excited for the weeklong conference and festival. “I’ve got a small business and it’s built on this group of people that I really love and that I really trust. Now I get to bring them together. It feels like a really unique and positive situation in a pretty garbage industry, sometimes!”

Our conversation began with Peculiar’s extraordinary simplicity.

BGS: I think the most extraordinary thing to me about the record is that it kind of refuses to be anything other than ordinary. And I hope that that doesn’t seem like a backhanded compliment, because to me the music feels so grounded, raw, and authentic – but in a way that doesn’t just propagate antiquated ideas around what “authenticity” is. So, I wanted to ask you how you crafted the vision for the project, because it did end up so simple, but I know that simplicity doesn’t necessarily mean building the concept for the album was simple at all. 

WC: Simplicity is hard to do and I’m the kind of person that has forty ideas and maybe a couple good ones in there, so I had a lot of songs. I give a lot of credit to friends and family in Arkansas and the folks at Free Dirt for helping me figure out how to try to nail [my vision] to the wall. I wanted to play old-time music on the record. I’ve been really lucky to do square dances and play old-time music in the Ozarks for a long time. I want to be old-time music and I want to be country and I want to be queer and I want to be a poet. I want [the album] to be grounded in American literature, and also want it to be grounded in American old-time music, so that it feels like the songs are highly regional and from specific traditions that I’ve learned from. 

This might make it sound like getting to simplicity was simple, but it really came down to a series of checkmarks. I want to be able to learn from Utah Phillips forever and his legacy and the legacies of the people that worked with him. So I knew I wanted to do a Utah Phillips song. I wanted to do something that felt more like a square dance call than like a capital S “song.” So we did “The Down and Back.” I’ve been setting poems to music for fun for a long time and that was why we did that song, “Buffalo Bill.” I’d always wanted to just tell a story, too, so we set a story to my own fingerpicking, because there’s a lot of that style in the ‘70s and from people I admire the most, like Steve Goodman and Gamble Rogers. It also came down to what traditions we were working in. “How do we evoke these different traditions in a way that is diverse but is unified?” At the end of the day, it might just be my voice and limited capacity instrumentally that unifies it. [Laughs]

The record feels “agnostic” to me in so many ways: The genre aesthetic (or lack), agnostic. The songwriting perspective, agnostic. The identity narratives, agnostic. The regional qualities, too. And when I say “agnostic” I mean, they all feel very defined and tangible, but not that you’re professing any one of them as traditional or as truth. You’re placing this music so specifically within a longstanding tradition of old-time country and string band music, but you’re doing it in a way that doesn’t feel like it’s trying to ensconce a “correct way” to make music. 

Carl Jung, who writes the best shit [Laughs], writes about some kind of “spiritus mundi,” some kind of larger idea of the world that can bind us all together, psychologically. In a lot of these things about America, we receive these overarching stories about what it is to be an American, what it is to be free, what it is to be this, that, or the other. These stories have identity concerns, but they have to be agnostic, because they’re too general to ever be specific. Which is to say, it’s all sort of false. 

I guess as I was looking at all of the historical moments that I wanted to underline, I found that the overarching narrative was that there was not going to be one. The title track is about traveling for a long time and having a panic attack in a very specific place, but also a very non-specific place, which was a Walmart. It may be the most unifying place in the country, now. I wanted to take the idea of this universal American spiritus mundi and locate it within as many specific voices that were inspiring to me. And usually those are people that tried to do folk music or vernacular music in this big, all-encompassing way.

That agnosticism, that acceptance of the duality of all things, that’s such a queer perspective. And it’s not just because of the pink album cover. [Laughs] It feels like the undercurrent and overcurrent of this record.

Yeah, it’s designed to be, it has to be inclusive. [The album] also includes voices that are on the very edge of slipping out of existence. It also sort of includes failure and incompetence and foolishness and folly. I think a lot of our “sad bastard,” dude country – which is really one of my favorite genres, it ain’t me ragging on sad, sad country. [Laughs] “Tear in my beer,” I’m 100% behind that! But for some reason we’re willing to valorize those feelings, but not valorize historical discomfort and the total dissipation of huge groups of feelings. And [we valorize] money. 

Like, if I was going to do a Utah Phillips song, the one to me that fit the most was “Goodnight Loving Trail.” One, because it’s stone cold banger and two, because it’s about a cook on a wagon train. And if I think that somebody is going to get the idea that I’m going to talk about rootin’ tootin’, gunslinging, and stuff, I wanna fight that with, “Here’s a song about the emotional condition of a pissed off cook who stays up all night playing melancholy songs on his harmonica.” That’s it! There’s nothing else, the only message of that song is we get old and we die. We outlive our youthfulness, and to what end? 

“Sad bastard” or, as I like to call it, “sad boi country” – sad boi anything is so, so hot right now. Especially this kind of idea of “sad boi” or “dirt boi” country, and it’s really prevalent in Americana. But I feel like this record is turning that new-ish trope on its ear. Something about straight, cis-, white, privileged men self ascribing “sad boi” or “dirt boi” always rings untrue to me as a listener. But Peculiar, the sadness intrinsic in it doesn’t seem like “sad boi country” to me, because it does have that queer thread. Do you agree or disagree? 

Well, the title of the record is intended to be a pun: “Queer sadness, peculiar misery.” I guess I would include that. I think there are perfect sad boi country songs out there. Formally, I don’t really have anything against the form, I just want to do my own version of it. If I’m totally honest, that’s mostly the way it comes out. That tends to be the way it comes out, in this format. I have written songs that go in circles around, I guess, a more normal sort of self-indulgent sadness, but I’ve never felt them to be my best work. It’s nice to lean into the thing that hurts you, I think that there’s power in that. 

I think that a lot of that sad boi country is angry at women, or is saying, “I’m no good and women hate me.” Or, “I’m no good and my mama knows I’m no good.” Or there’s “I’ve tried to be good and I can’t.” Instead of like, looking inward and being like, “I want to be better, I need to be better. My problems are my own.” 

I want to talk about production, because one of the things I love about the record is that you’re playing with sonic space so much. Some of the songs are placed very close to the listener, like a radio mix. Others are really quite distant and you play around in that space, kind of mischievously at times. Where did that production quality come from and why was it important to you? 

Well, I don’t want to take credit after the fact. It was the idea of the producer, Joel Savoy, who essentially was like, “Hey, I’ve got this old vaudeville theater, I’ve never gotten to use it, but I think that you could spread a couple tracks out in this old theater.” It’s like hundreds of years worth of people dancing in this theater, it’s just gorgeous. I also told him, “Look, I want a couple tracks ready for the radio. I want to be able to take a real shot.” 

On the other level, it’s just me and an instrument. I want it to sound like I’m sitting on the edge of somebody’s bed and they’re sitting with the covers pulled over them. That’s pretty much what I said [to Savoy]. A lot of the production is me having an interest in the record reaching some kind of minimal commercial viability, I want to say pretty clearly that that’s an intentional move. I know that I can make a record that will never reach commercial viability. I just got nominated for an award in outlaw country and that really just means I’m not ever going to reach commercial viability, but they do agree that I’m country. [Laughs]

I wanted to be able to share the project and create a couple of things that would invite people in that might never normally hear the message on the record. But, if I was only known for the tracks that were radio-produced, I wouldn’t like that at all. The idea is to invite people into the whole record. 

I’ve said quite a bit, what’s more outlaw country than being anti-normative, anti-idyll (in this case, read: queer) in country music? That’s what I feel like is coming through in “I Won’t Be Afraid,” because it’s not outlaw country in that it’s professing that you must forsake emotion and forsake heart and forsake these sort of non-masculine, anti-normative ideals to be outlaw. It’s outlaw in a way that embraces otherness and any form of the other can be outlaw. To me, it’s not a song that’s just a personal declaration, but also an industry-wide one. And it’s more than that, too.

The song came out all at once. It was one of those crying fit songs. I was like, “Okay, that’s a crying fit song, I know what that is. That goes deep in the drawer and we don’t really bring that one out.” Well, I did share it with a couple of people and they liked it. At the point I recorded it, I’m still, I’m just… I almost used the phrase “a sack of shit,” but I guess I wanna say I was an absolute mess in that place. I was not able to contain the feelings I was having in order to play a G chord. I think that does give it a quality that I like, but also gives it a quality that I wish I could, oh, slap a little tape or a little rouge or something on it.

As far as outlaw stuff goes, I made up this saying that outlaw shit is kissing your buds and dancing like your grandma is proud of you. [When I came up with that,] I was thinking about how hard it is to do. And what kind of risk it entails, to actually feel happy with yourself and happy with where you come from. … I do agree, on some level, with the maxim from the outlaw country guys early on that it’s about doing things your own way and it’s about not doing what the institution tells you to do. But that’s also a marketing scheme that’s appeared on T-shirts at Spencer’s in the mall ever since I was a kid, right? It’s not going to work for me. I want to revise it. I’ve gotten some kickback over the virulence with which I might be revising it, but we’ll see how it goes. I don’t think my career’s over or anything. [Laughs]

What’s more outlaw than people saying you’re not outlaw? 

It’s a snake eating its own tail!

Photo credit: Lead photo by Tim Duggan, square thumbnail by Jackie Clarkson.

They’ve Got You Covered: 10 Tributes You Need to Hear

Posted on by Justin Hiltner

2020 was a year of many things – COVID-19, existential elections, the shuttering of the music industry, and on and on – but one common, non-catastrophic throughline of the musical variety was cover songs. Many musicians and artists, finding themselves with more free time than usual and more standard-fare albums and cross-continental tours back-burnered, took the opportunity to explore live records, collaborations, and yes, covers. From Molly Tuttle to Wynonna, livestreams to socially-distanced shows, covers became an unofficial pandemic pastime. 

Now, in 2021, many of these cover projects conceived and created in 2020 have made it to store shelves – digital and otherwise – and we’ve collected ten tributes worth a listen:

Shannon McNally covers Waylon Jennings

It’s fitting that Shannon McNally released The Waylon Sessions on Compass Records, whose headquarters now occupies “Hillbilly Central.” As Tompall Glaser’s former studio, the building helped give rise to country’s outlaw movement and it’s where Waylon himself recorded. With guests like Jessi Colter, Buddy Miller, Rodney Crowell, and Lukas Nelson, the project recontextualizes Waylon Jennings’ material, which is usually associated with hyper-masculine wings of the country scene. As McNally puts it in a press release, “What Waylon Jennings brought to country music is what country music needs right now, and that unapologetic and vulnerable sense of self are what women are tapping into artistically right now as the industry evolves.” 

Steve Earle covers Justin Townes Earle

Many a musical child has covered their parents’ catalogs in retrospect, but it’s rare that we see the reverse. A gorgeous, gutting, and laid-bare album, Steve Earle’s J.T. is a ten-song tribute to his son, Justin Townes Earle, who passed away suddenly in August 2020, shocking the Americana and folk communities. Earle’s signature emotion bristles and crackles throughout the project, giving Justin Townes’ songs an even stronger quality of visceral electricity. Proceeds from the album will go to a trust for Etta St. James Earle, Justin Townes’ daughter and Steve’s granddaughter. 

The Infamous Stringdusters cover Bill Monroe

Spread out from North Carolina to Colorado and beyond, the Infamous Stringdusters utilized home recording from their respective studios during the pandemic to accomplish musical creativity their jam-packed schedule hadn’t really allowed in the “before times.” Their brand new EP, A Tribute to Bill Monroe, returns the virtuosic jamgrass outfit to territory familiar to those who first found the group when they were cutting their teeth, striding out from traditional bluegrass into the vast, expansive newgrass-and-jamgrass unknown. The project illustrates that the true strength of this ensemble is found in utilizing traditional bluegrass aesthetics for their own creative purposes. For example, you might listen through the entire record without realizing the Stringdusters made a Bill Monroe tribute album without mandolin!

Mandy Barnett covers Billie Holiday

Mandy Barnett is a cross-genre chameleon; between her talent, her voice’s timeless Americana tinge, and her appetite for classics — from Nashville staples to the American songbook — she often finds herself reaching far beyond Music Row and classic country to R&B, standards, and in her most recent release, Billie Holiday covers. Every Star Above was recorded in 2019, pre-pandemic, and includes ten songs from Holiday’s 1958 Lady in Satin album – songs previously also covered by Frank Sinatra, Dinah Washington, and many, many others. The project feels akin to Linda Ronstadt’s pop and big band forays, never fully detached from Barnett’s country roots, but built atop their solid foundation. In another Ronstadt-esque move, Barnett partnered with recently departed jazz arranger Sammy Nestico; Every Star Above was the award-winning composer’s final project.

Charley Crockett covers James Hand

Country-western crooner Charley Crockett is truly prolific, having released nine full-length albums in the past six years. As the story goes, before his friend, acclaimed Texan singer-songwriter James “Slim” Hand passed away unexpectedly about a year ago, Crockett promised he would record his songs. “Lesson in Depression” captures the sly, winking quality of the best sort of sad-ass country, which isn’t burdened by its own melodrama. While it’s certain Crockett (as Tanya Tucker would put it) would have rather brought Slim his flowers while he was living, there’s a poignancy in how 10 For Slim – Charley Crockett Sings James Hand, like Earle’s J.T., immediately demonstrates how these impactful musical legacies will live on.

Lowland Hum cover Peter Gabriel

Lowland Hum’s album covering Peter Gabriel’s So — which they’ve cutely and aptly entitled So Low — began as a passing joke, but the folk duo of husband-and-wife Daniel and Lauren Goans followed the passion and fun that led them to Gabriel’s hit 1986 release, quickly unspooling the passing whim into inspiration for a full-blown project. “We already loved the iconic record, but in translating Gabriel’s melodies and otherworldly arrangements,” they explain on their website, “we fell even deeper in love with the songs, Gabriel’s voice, and his uncanny ability to fully inhabit both vulnerability and playfulness…” Their “quiet music,” minimalist approach is well suited to the material and the entire project is incredibly listenable, comforting, and subtly envelope-pushing.

Chrissie Hynde covers Bob Dylan

After The Bard released “Murder Most Foul” and “I Contain Multitudes” early in 2020 (and in the pandemic) founder, singer, songwriter, and guitarist for The Pretenders Chrissie Hynde was inspired to once again revisit Dylan’s catalog – a limitless fount of material with which she was already intimately familiar. Her new album, Standing in the Doorway, features nine Dylan tracks recorded with fellow Pretenders guitarist James Walbourne – almost exclusively via text message – and for their coronavirus YouTube video series. Hynde opts for deeper cuts, showcasing her affinity for swaths of Dylan’s career often overlooked by other would-be cover-ers. This classic, “Tomorrow is a Long Time,” feels appropriately sentimental and longing, a perfect encapsulation of the day-to-day of the realities of the pandemic, filtered through a Bob Dylan lens and Hynde’s distinctive voice. 

Various Artists cover John Lilly

John Lilly is a songwriter’s songwriter. Based in West Virginia, his original music has been covered by modern legends like Tim O’Brien, Kathy Mattea, and Tom Paxton. April In Your Eyes: A Tribute to the Songs of John Lilly gathers various artists from the folk, old-time, and bluegrass communities – in West Virginia and otherwise – spotlighting the incredible depth and breadth of Lilly’s catalog. The title track is stunningly rendered by Maya de Vitry and Ethan Jodziewicz, who were connected with Lilly originally through West Virginia’s iconic old-time pickers’ gathering affectionately referred to as “Clifftop.” Paxton, O’Brien, and Mattea all make appearances on the project, as do Brennen Leigh & Noel McKay, Bill Kirchen, and many other members of Lilly’s musical family and inner circle, giving the project an intentional and intimate resonance.

American Aquarium cover ’90s Country Hits

BJ Barham’s American Aquarium dropped a surprise album, Slappers, Bangers, & Certified Twangers: Volume One in May. Featuring ten covers of some of the band’s favorite ‘90s country hits, it’s a dose of all-star-tribute-concert packaged in a pandemic-friendly stay-at-home-form – and available on John Deere Green vinyl, of course. One particularly sad casualty of the coronavirus pandemic has been these sorts of musical nostalgia bombs – when was the last time any of us attended a theme night or tribute show at say, the Basement East in Nashville or Raleigh, NC’s The Brewery? – and Slappers, Bangers, & Certified Twangers has us in the mood to attend the first ‘90s country covers live show possible now that things are finally reopening.

Various Artists cover John Prine

A year without Prine seems far, far too long to travel with such a Prine-shaped hole in our musical hearts. But his presence and legacy certainly still loom large; the Prine family has announced “You Got Gold: Celebrating the Life & Songs of John Prine,” a series of special concerts and events held across various venues in Nashville in October. Oh Boy Records is also planning to release a new tribute record, Broken Hearts and Dirty Windows: Songs of John Prine, Vol. 2, to coincide with You Got Gold. The first two tracks from the project that have already been unveiled feature Sturgill Simpson performing “Paradise” and Brandi Carlile’s rendition of “I Remember Everything,” which you can hear above. Each month until October, the Prine family and Oh Boy will release another song from the project, unveiling special guests who each pay tribute to Prine, his songs, and the enormous vacuum his loss has left in the roots music industry.

 

On ‘The Marfa Tapes,’ Miranda Lambert Finds “Tin Man” in West Texas

Posted on by Editor

Country fans already knew that “Tin Man” is a powerful song; it earned the Academy of Country Music’s Song of the Year award in 2017. In this new live video, Miranda Lambert reminds us how moving a simple performance can be. The solo acoustic version of “Tin Man” comes from a new album and film that Lambert and fellow songwriters (and proud Texas natives) Jack Ingram and Jon Randall have crafted. Titled The Marfa Tapes, the album features the recordings that are shown in The Marfa Tapes Film. Watch the trailer.

In November 2020, the three accomplished songwriters gathered in the desert of Marfa, Texas, as they have done together for years, and captured some incredibly beautiful, raw material over a five-day stretch. Some songs on the new record are familiar, but most of the music is new, only heard in Marfa until now. The trio took pains to not overdo the music; all of the tracks were captured in the Texas wilderness with only a couple of microphones.

On a Facebook Live video, Lambert explained, “The idea for the Marfa film came about because we wanted to do this organic record, where we go into the desert of Marfa, Texas, and record these songs we’ve written over the last six years. Jack Ingram, Jon Randall, and myself sort of found this little haven in Marfa in 2015 and have gone back several times over the years to write songs. We just thought, ‘Why don’t we put these out for the fans just how they are in their raw state?’ To go along with the sound of the cows and the wind, and everything that that tumbleweed country has to offer. We wanted to show the vastness and the beauty of something that we’re so proud of, that’s part of our state.”

Enjoy the new video for “Tin Man” below.

Photo credit: Jim and Ilde Cook of CookHouseMedia

LISTEN: Shannon McNally, “This Time”

Posted on by Editor

Artist: Shannon McNally
Hometown: Long Island, New York
Song: “This Time”
Album: The Waylon Sessions
Release Date: May 28, 2021
Label: Compass Records

In Their Words: “‘This Time’ was written by Waylon. He didn’t write all of his songs. In fact, he probably didn’t write most of them, but the ones he did write were his best. I believe he was talking about a personal relationship with a lover, but as I sing it, I think of it as my relationship to the music business and my personal struggles with it as a woman and an artist. I particularly love the Wurlitzer intro and how the kick drum and acoustic guitar come in sounding like a sunny day. All of Waylon’s grooves remind me of horse gaits. This one is a full canter and the harmonica is the river running beside it. This song is the high point or key to me getting into the headspace that permits me to sing the rest of the album. For me there is relief in its directness. It’s my favorite song on the album.” — Shannon McNally

Photo credit: Alysse Gafkjen

On ‘Smoke From the Chimney,’ Tony Joe White’s Storytelling Lives On

Posted on by Editor

There’s some serious sleight of hand going on with Tony Joe White’s new album, Smoke From the Chimney. Well, sleight of sound, really.

Listening, you can easily picture the sessions: the musicians playing together with White, taking cues from him as they spin out a tableau of characters and scenes that flow as if they were chapters in a book. It’s the latest volume in a legacy of witty, gritty songs stretching back more than 50 years to “Polk Salad Annie,” “Willie and Laura Mae Jones,” and “Rainy Night in Georgia.”

And leading it all with a sly grin is the Swamp Fox himself, as he’s known, with his still-strong, speak-sing baritone voice echoing his origins in the tiny town of Goodwill, Louisiana — a barely-there dot on the map a bit east of Shreveport.

Only one thing.

These sessions were done in the summer of 2019, a year after White died of a heart attack at age 75. Producer Dan Auerbach built the record around basic vocal-and-guitar demos that White had made over a period of years before he died. The illusion, though, is by design.

“I approached it very much the same way I would have any other album we do here,” Auerbach says from his Easy Eye Sound studio in Nashville. “I hired a band and we played live. And instead of Tony being in the room, he was in the headphones with us. You are hearing performances.”

He pauses.

“I’ve had people in the room that were less ‘there’ than Tony Joe was!” he says, laughing heartily.

The results are vibrant, a lovingly made set bringing out the full richness of White’s signature storytelling, steeped in his singular brew of soul, blues, rock and backwoods boogie. It’s the kind of stuff that over the decades led to his songs being recorded by dozens, from Elvis Presley to Waylon Jennings to Dusty Springfield to Tina Turner, but which had something extra when sung by White himself.

It’s not the only bit of deception going on in the album. There’s the matter of some of the most moving, affecting songs in the set. Take “Over You,” a heartwarming-turned-heart-wrenching ballad of love and loss. White sings touchingly of a relationship that started as friends at 7 years old, later growing into romance and a wonderful life together — until the woman, his soulmate, became ill and died.

Only one thing. Again.

“That’s not true,” says Jody White, the son of Tony Joe and, if you would have it from the song, the woman who died.

“No,” he says in a separate interview from his Nashville home. “My mom is still alive.”
In fact, Tony Joe White and Leann White were married in 1964, raised three kids and were together until the day he died. “And they didn’t meet when they were 7,” Jody says. “There’s nothing true about ‘Over You.’”

It’s as big a whopper as the record-size widemouth bass that mercilessly taunts its would-be conqueror in “Bubba Jones,” another highlight of the new album. But even Jody, who at 46 has spent his whole life surrounded by his dad’s work and became his manager 20 years ago, could get sucked in to the depth of the song.

“That’s the great thing about Tony,” he says. “He’d write these songs and you’re like, ‘Oh man. Poor guy!’ Like he must have been going through it now.”

This is nothing new. There’s a lot of did-it-really-happen running though his vast, vaunted catalog. “There was a ‘Rainy Night in Georgia,’” Jody says, noting at least some truth behind the song his dad wrote, which was a big hit for soul singer Brook Benton in 1970. “But a lot of his best songs are just fictional tales. Sometimes you can’t differentiate. ‘Polk Salad Annie,’ is that a real girl or not? And ‘Over You’ is kind of the same thing.”

Smoke from the Chimney, in both the songs and sound, builds on a resurgence that started in the early 2000s when, after laying low some, White had resumed touring and recording, finding enthusiastic receptions among both older fans and new ones. Auerbach, now 41, was among the latter. “I was a little bit of a latecomer to his music,” Auerbach says. “But as soon as I heard his original version of ‘Rainy Night in Georgia,’ I was hooked.”

Having established himself both as half of the Black Keys and as an in-demand producer (his extensive credits include Yola, Valerie June, Ray LaMontagne, Lana Del Rey, the Gibson Brothers, and dozens more), Auerbach started pushing to produce a Tony Joe album years ago.

“Dan and I met probably 15 years ago,” Jody says. “And he said, ‘For the last 10 years I’ve been wanting to produce a Tony Joe White record.’ And it just didn’t happen. He only co-wrote with a few people, like Jamey Johnson. They would come out to the farm and sit by the fire with him. That sort of thing. He wasn’t going to go to a studio and collaborate with someone. It just wasn’t what he did.”

Even after Auerbach moved from Ohio to Nashville a while back, it still didn’t work out. “We did get a chance to meet, though,” Auerbach says. “We were on tour with the Black Keys and we were both on a festival in Australia. Hung out backstage. I played his Strat. We hung out and talked. Pretty awesome, actually.”

When Tony Joe White died, Jody’s job changed, he says, “from ‘What are we going to do next?’ to ‘What did he leave behind?’” What he found was daunting. “I discovered that there was probably more unreleased music than there was released music,” he says.

Sorting through the archives, Jody found hundreds of songs put down on tape over decades of time — experiments with electronic keyboards from the 1980s among them. Some will surprise even the most devoted fans. But he was drawn to several reels from a few years before his father’s death.

“There was really no rhyme or reason why he recorded all those songs in that period of time,” he says. “Some are old, some were new. It’s all over the place. But it was weird how they all lined up.”

In July 2019, he texted Auerbach the demo of the song “Smoke From the Chimney.” Auerbach loved it and asked for more. “I sent him probably 11 songs and he said, ‘They’re all perfect.’ My dad knew what he was doing when he recorded those songs together.”

The timing was perfect, too. Auerbach had an unexpected break in his normally crammed schedule, and about four weeks later he told Jody he had most of the songs finished. “I’ve never seen anything happen so fast,” Jody says.

Auerbach says it was simply a natural fit for him and his label, Easy Eye Sound, which is releasing the album. “He embodies everything I’ve tried to do, and everything Easy Eye is,” he says. “It’s steeped in what he was about — diversity and the love of music, of all kinds. He so obviously loved so much music. Diversity and soul. That’s what he had. Boy. Some people just got it, you know?”

It’s a mission for him.

“I’m figuring out the big part of the reason you find people who didn’t know about Tony Joe,” Auerbach says. “Tony Joe had no category, which made it hard for labels to market him. Calling him swamp-rock doesn’t do him justice. Country doesn’t do him justice. Calling him blues doesn’t do him justice. Which is maybe why we need to tell his story a little bit louder.”

That’s played out through the wide emotional and musical range of the nine songs he picked. From the wistful title track to the swamp-voodoo chooglin’ of “Boot Money” and the campfire-side “Scary Stories” to the border ballad “Del Rio You’re Making Me Cry.” The achingly evocative “Someone Is Crying” is arguably the album’s sentimental peak, with strings swelling over the story of a young girl walking into the sunset after seeing her village burn.

With the band he assembled, Auerbach threaded that diversity of material together, consciously connecting, or transcending, genres. There are slide guitars (some by him, some by Marcus King) and steel (Paul Franklin) — a little touch of George Harrison here (the title song), Duane Allman and Dickie Betts there (“Listen to Your Song”). There’s Ray Jacildo’s Hammond B3 organ, a foundation for a wealth of Southern traditions touched on throughout.

On that ensemble he hangs such touches as the background vocals by Mireya Ramos and Shae Fiol of the all-women mariachi ensemble Flor de Toloache and evocative fiddles by Ramos and veteran Stuart Duncan on “Del Rio You’re Making Me Cry;” the strings on “Someone Is Crying” are the work of Matt Combs. Ultimately, it’s all there to illustrate the stories White tells.

Speaking of… there’s the closing “Billy,” a farewell to a life of drifting and to a lifelong friend “just like a brother to me.”

That has to be real.

“Didn’t happen,” Jody says of the song that’s the oldest on the album, having been recorded by Waylon Jennings back in the 1970s. “My mom and I were laughing about that. She came over and listened and she is like, ‘I don’t know how he makes this stuff up.’ She and I were speculating over who Billy could possibly be. And he was never homeless, walking the streets. None of it happened. None of it ever happened.”

Photo credit: Jim Marshall (black and white); Leann White (color)

The Show on the Road – Sarah Shook

Posted on by Shelby Williamson

This week on The Show On The Road, we catch up with acclaimed roots-rocker Sarah Shook. For most of the last decade, Shook has been making cut-to-the-bone country music of her own outlaw variety — first with her early band The Devil and now with her seasoned group of sensitive twang-rock shitkickers, The Disarmers.


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Homeschooled in deeply religious seclusion in upstate New York and North Carolina, Shook largely only heard classical composers growing up. As a loner, creative teenager trying to process her hidden bisexuality, she described hearing Elliott Smith and Belle & Sebastian as revelatory — finally someone felt like her and found a way to share it with the world. But it was after encountering the raw honesty in the songs of Johnny Cash that she found a purpose and a place for her achy-voiced folk songs.

With a little encouragement from her longtime lead guitarist, who saw how powerful her presence (and her songs) could be on stage, an openly reticent Shook took the leap and started playing professionally in 2013. She gained national attention with her stellar back-to-back albums Sidelong and Years, which caught the attention of famed alt-/outlaw country label Bloodshot Records (they signed her) and sent her on a relentless round of touring.

With confessional, lived-in songs like “Fuck Up” and “New Ways To Fail” Shook is a master of getting to the point, processing her tough transition to sobriety with grace, humor and wit. Much like her hero Johnny Cash, she suffers no fools when it comes to love and its tricky late-night detours. With her signature half-smile/half-grimace candor Shook sings about another love affair gone wrong: “I need this shit like I need another hole in my head.”

Stick around to the end of the episode to hear a live-from-home acoustic rendition of her deliciously twangy kiss-off, “Gold As Gold.”

Photo credit: Derek Ketchum

The String – Jaime Wyatt and Jesse Daniel

Posted on by Chris Jacobs

The timing was right to split the hour between two exceptional emerging artists making hard country music in the outlaw tradition.


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As you’ll hear, Jesse Daniel and Jaime Wyatt have lived the life, paid the price and processed their pain and redemption in song. Both are products of the West Coast and both have dug deep into their own stories. Many are sizing up Daniel’s ‘Rollin’ On’ and Wyatt’s ‘Neon Cross’ (produced by Shooter Jennings) as among the cream of 2020. These are candid, complimentary conversations.

With Debut Album, The Panhandlers Take Pride in West Texas

Posted on by Editor

The Panhandlers are carrying on a West Texas songwriting tradition that’s both witty and wistful, and their self-titled debut album will almost certainly appeal to anyone who’s fond of the Lubbock life. With 10 original songs about their home turf, the four artists — Josh Abbott, Josh Baumann, Cleto Cordero, and William Clark Green — teamed up with producer Bruce Robison, who somehow makes the task of balancing four lead singers look like a breeze.

By email, all four of the Panhandlers fielded questions from BGS about working together, writing about each other, and not quite being able to leave West Texas behind.

BGS: I’m sure you guys all knew each other before this project, but when did you all first get into a room together?

John Baumann: Other than music festivals or late-night gatherings after shows on buses, the first time we sat down and talked about this project as a group was at The Next Waltz office in Austin, Texas. I think Josh was still mispronouncing my last name at the time. Needless to say, the group was all on good terms and friendly, but I think this project really bonded us as musicians, songwriters, business partners and made us become friends.

William Clark Green: I have written with Josh and John previously, but it was my first time writing with Cleto. It was a lot of fun getting to see his thought process. Obviously I have a lot of respect for everyone. I knew we wouldn’t be writing any trash songs.

There are several references on this album about leaving West Texas behind. Is that common for people to insist they’re going to move on, but never actually do? And what compels them to stay, do you think?

Josh Abbott: Well it’s twofold: 1) Yes, I think it’s common for people to desire a change and never seek it, and 2) There are a lot of folks who have to move away and reflect on their time there with nostalgia and a fondness. This isn’t exclusively unique to being from that region of Texas by any means, but it’s the lens from how we approached this album.

Cleto Cordero: There’s not much to see or do in West Texas that isn’t related to oil and gas or farming and after a while the sometimes bleak landscape can lend one to ponder what [it would be like] to live in a big city or any other place with topography that isn’t flat or covered in mesquite bush! Oh, and water… jumping into a body of West Texas water only occurs in one’s dream. Most folks entertain the idea of leaving for greener pastures (which is why I believe creatives flourish there, always exercising their dreaming muscles), but end up sticking around because although life there is simple, it is a great place to raise a family. The land is home to many good-hearted, hard-working people — traits that come through persistence and faithfulness.

JB: Ironically, all four of us have left the region at some time or another, but it always calls us back. Mostly for opportunities to perform, but sometimes just to see people you have gotten to know. I have become such close friends with some people in the region that sometimes it feels like I have a second life there when I go back, and I just pick right back up where I left off. I think it’s common for people to want to leave the area, and explore bigger and more developed cities, but there is something about it that always calls you back. I think people also feel compelled to stay. They love the sunsets, and dry air, and the four seasons — one of those only regions in Texas that actually gets four seasons. And seriously Lubbock is one of the friendliest cities in the U.S. Not just because the billboards say it, but because it really feels true.

WCG: I think the Mac Davis song says it best: “Happiness was Lubbock, Texas in my rearview mirror.” The song eventually turns around and tells the story of how much you miss the country and the people

“This Is My Life” captures the life of a touring musician in Texas — brisket for lunch, pizza at night. And you’re sharing it with friends — “a rowdy group of dreamers, drinkers, and has-beens.” Josh, how hard (or easy) was it to kind of distill these guys’ personalities to just a few lines?

JA: Honestly, it flowed pretty naturally. I wrote it in less than an hour at my house the night before our last studio day. Bruce encouraged me to write a feature song where I could have a voice on the album since the other three guys all have features. I originally just wanted to blend in the background on this album, but Bruce said I needed a feature too. So I went home and just wrote a song about the group and the life we live. The only line I debated was “William’s loud but he’s a good hang” mostly because I didn’t want it to seem like a shot at him. But that’s his personality and that’s why everyone loves him. So I kept it in there.

CC: I love how fun and simple that song is. I think Josh captured each of us pretty well.

I like the dry humor on this record, like on “No Handle.” It’s funny without being corny, which is tricky. As songwriters, how do you strike that balance of being lighthearted without going into novelty song territory?

JA: I’m not sure I’ve figured out that balance! But John Baumann sure has!

JB: I just tried to be as plainspoken about it as possible. I just found humor in the fact that there is a guy who is openly unhappy about where he is. I think it is a delicate balance, but I think it’s important for voices in songs, or narrators, to have personality — be it sad, or ironic, or subtly jabbing. It just gives the lyric and the story more truth.

WCG: I think you just have to believe in what you are saying and the rest comes with it.

CC: I heard Carlos Santana say during a video something along the lines of “You should play, write, sing, and perform being led by your Spirit. If you want to be funny or make a joke of everything, you should be a comedian.” I think John (who wrote that song) is a clever man, but he knows the difference between clever and being a jester. I believe he is the former.

“Caprockin’” shows a bittersweet portrait of life in and around Lubbock. What sets that city apart from other places you’ve been in Texas? What do you wish people understood better about it?

JA: I think my biggest frustration with people about Lubbock is [when they say] that it’s in the middle of nowhere and there’s nothing to do. And I just don’t agree with that, especially in the era we live in now. You can fly to Lubbock from the major cities in Texas in less than two hours. And there hasn’t been a city that has transformed as much in a per capita manner than Lubbock has. Businesses are developing constantly, the city is expanding south at a rapid pace, and Texas Tech has grown into an enormous institution. All Lubbock lacks is professional sports teams, high property taxes, and congested traffic. Lubbock is great! I’m glad John wrote this song with a sense of endearment. This song channels Jimmie Dale Gilmore so much to me.

JB: The friendliness of it. People will take the shirt off their back for you at every corner. They treat strangers like friends. They support you when nobody else will. They rarely have a bad word to say about anyone. I wish people understood that it’s more than just a flat desert panhandle town. It has a real community, and it’s a wonderful place to raise a family.

CC: Many towns in West Texas just don’t have the infrastructure that allow artists to flourish. Lubbock seems to be a mecca for artists and musicians of West Texas because it has just about everything you’d need to get a musical dream to take flight: a continuous stream of young, potential listeners (via Texas Tech University), a legendary watering hole and stage to play your original songs (via the Bluelight Live), and various local radio stations that promote and play local artists (via Red Dirt Rebel). I don’t think folks outside of West Texas understand how we find it so beautiful a place, despite it being dry, dusty Flatland.

WCG: I wish people understood how laid-back and nice the people are in West Texas. In all my travels they are my favorite.

Photo credit: Charlie Stout

The Show On The Road – Paul Cauthen

Posted on by Chris Jacobs

This week, host Z. Lupetin speaks with booming country gospel trickster Paul Cauthen.

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Z. and Paul met up in Nashville after his weird and whacked-out Big Velvet revue, which nearly got shut down for a brawl that occurred on stage at the end. Paul has a way of harnessing his own madness into a dangerous and intoxicating sonic brew that needs to be in your ear holes right now. Start with this episode, and then move on to Paul’s recent release, Room 41.

22 Top Country Duos

Posted on by Justin Hiltner

Country music was made for duets. Not only because those tight, tasty harmonies are a foundational aspect of the music, but also because country accomplishes heartbreak — and every other make and model of love song — better than almost any other genre. (Thought quite possibly better than all other genres.) It just makes sense to have two singers, one to play each role in a lost, soon-to-be-lost, or (rarely) divine, never-perishing romance. But the format isn’t restricted to lovers or their placeholders, it can just as seamlessly fit heroes and acolytes, parents and children, siblings, peers, fellow pot smokers, and on and on.

Take a scroll through these twenty-two country twosomes:

Kenny Rogers & Dolly Parton

We couldn’t have this list without these two. They should be the start, middle, and end of any definitive list of country duos. So we’ll just make the easy choice and kick it all off with Kenny and Dolly — that extra intro about their friendship and the years they’ve known each other? Swoon.

Loretta Lynn & Conway Twitty

After saying what we did about Kenny & Dolly we knew this pair needed to come next — so as to not rile anyone. Out of countless duets we could have chosen, how could any top “You’re The Reason Our Kids Are Ugly?”

Willie Nelson & Ray Charles

For inexplicable reasons people tend to forget Ray Charles’ incredible forays into country. His collaborations with Willie are stunning for the extreme juxtaposition of their voices and styles — they feel and swing so distinctly and differently, but all while perfectly complementary. “Seven Spanish Angels” ranked a very close second to this number in our selection process.

Glen Campbell & John Hartford

The most-recorded song in the history of recording? It’s said “Gentle On My Mind” holds that honor. And goodness gracious of course it does. Here’s its writer and its popularizer and hitmaker together.

Lee Ann Womack & George Strait

Together, Lee Ann and George were beacons of the trad country duet form, especially in the ’90s and early 2000s. This one from the jewel in the crown of Lee Ann’s discography, Call Me Crazy, is crisply modern, but with decidedly timeless vocals.

George Jones & Tammy Wynette

A broken, country fairy tale of a love story, George and Tammy’s relationship was infamously fraught, but damn if that didn’t just make their duets ever more… ethereal. Which doesn’t justify that Tammy Wynette kinda pain, to be sure, but it does remind us that if country can do anything better than all other genres, it can be sad.

Reba McEntire & Linda Davis

One of the best country songs, duets, and music videos EVER MADE. Theatrical and epic and a little silly and downright catchy and Rob Reiner and… we could go on forever.

Tanya Tucker & Delbert McClinton

Tanya is back with a brand new album and its well-deserved level of attention has been helping to re-shine the spotlight on her expansive career. Forty top ten hits across three decades. Who does that? Here she duets with Delbert McClinton on their 1993 hit, “Tell Me About It.”

Alan Jackson & Jimmy Buffett

Hey, if this has to be stuck in our heads for the rest of the month, it should be stuck in yours, too. Fair’s fair. It’s only half past [whatever time it is], but we don’t care.

Johnny Cash & June Carter Cash

One of the most recognizable duos in the history of the genre, immortalized not only in their discography but in a film adaptation of their love as well, Walk the Line. We all know “Jackson” as familiarly as the ABC’s, so here’s a slightly lesser-known beaut. (Keep watching til the last verse for an adorable bit from June.)

Eric Church & Rhiannon Giddens

Country is at its best when it surprises us. This collaboration is certainly, on the surface, unexpected, but the message of the song isn’t the only way these two artists can relate to each other. Over the course of their careers they’ve both fought their way from the fringes to the centers of their respective scenes. More of this, please.

Dolly Parton & Porter Wagoner

Dolly got her start with Porter Wagoner on his television show in the 1960s. They can certainly be credited with pioneering, popularizing, and epitomizing the country duet format. One of her most famous hits, “I Will Always Love You,” was written for Porter as she lamented leaving their act to go totally solo. (We’re a little glad she did.) You can tell they sang this song just a few gajillion times together, give or take.

Pam Tillis & Mel Tillis

Father/daughter duos in country aren’t as common, but they certainly aren’t unheard of. Pam and Mel are a perfect example. (The Kendalls are another.)

Patty Loveless & Ralph Stanley

Patty Loveless received the first ever Ralph Stanley Mountain Music Memorial Legacy Award in 2017 at Ralph’s home festival, Hills of Home, in Wise County, Virginia. Patty and Ralph were longtime friends and collaborators during his lifetime and even through her mainstream country success she referenced bluegrass and Ralph as influences — and she cut a few bluegrass records as well.

Alison Krauss & James Taylor

It’s. Just. Too. Good. Like butter. Like a warm bubble bath. Like floating on a cloud. Two voices that were meant to intertwine.

Charley Pride & Glen Campbell

These two were made to sing Latin-inflected harmonies together, weren’t they? Charley Pride gets overlooked by these sorts of lists all too often. But dang if he didn’t crank out some stellar collaborations, too!

Gram Parsons & Emmylou Harris

“Love Hurts” and boy, if Gram and Emmylou don’t make you believe it heart and soul and body and being. The definitive version of this Boudleaux Bryant song? Perhaps.

Willie Nelson & Merle Haggard

Icons being icons. And friends. And amazingly talented, ceaselessly musical comrades. You love to see it. (We could’ve/should’ve chosen “Pancho & Lefty.” We did not.)

Vince Gill & Amy Grant

There are quite a few reasons why the Ryman Auditorium basically hands this husband and wife duo the keys to the place each December. Basically all of those reasons are evident in this one. It’s fitting that this video came from one of those Christmas shows, too.

Dolly Parton & Sia

Dolly literally outdoes herself, re-recording “Here I Am” for the original soundtrack for her Netflix film, Dumplin’, after she first cut the Top 40 country single in 1971. Clearly she and Sia have much more in common than an affinity for wigs; their soaring, acrobatic voices seem so disparate in style and form until you hear them together. Listen on repeat for the best therapeutic results.

Robert Plant & Alison Krauss

[Insert entire Raising Sand album here, because how could we ever choose?] Lol jk, here’s “Killing the Blues.”

Carrie Underwood & Randy Travis

Cross-generational, meet-your-hero magic right here. Little did we know what was in store for Carrie Underwood then. But the way Randy looks at her up there, you can tell he knows she’s goin’ places.