WATCH: Maya de Vitry, “Working Man”

Artist: Maya de Vitry
Hometown: Lancaster, Pennsylvania
Song: “Working Man”
Release Date: January 8, 2021
Label: Mad Maker Studio

In Their Words: “When I was writing this song last summer I was thinking about the creation of the railroads in the United States, imagining the distance between the hands that physically laid the tracks and the statues and wealth and legacy of the men we remember as having ‘built’ the railroads. I was reflecting on the respect and dignity and security we all long for, the satisfaction of doing a job well done, the pride of being part of something greater than ourselves. The pandemic has elevated and made more visible some of the more underpaid and overworked people in our society, and it’s also made us face the instability of work in general. I was thinking about how so often the blood, sweat, tears, and sacrifice of so many benefit the super-comfort of so few. How can we reimagine our society, and reimagine work, with the empathy and perspective we’ve gained from this last year?” — Maya de Vitry


Photo credit: Kaitlyn Raitz

Hiss Golden Messenger’s ‘Quietly Blowing It’ Blends N.C. Warmth With L.A. Glow

When M.C. Taylor decided to make another Hiss Golden Messenger album, he instinctively knew it needed to be done in real time, in an actual studio, in his adopted hometown of Durham, North Carolina. Recorded in the summer of 2020, Quietly Blowing It reflects a joyful spirit even as a fog of anxiety hung over the sessions. And in some ways, Taylor believes that a sense of tension is what this album is all about.

But in contrast to the image of making a million minor mistakes, Quietly Blowing It may be his most accessible album yet. (His prior effort, 2019’s Terms of Surrender, landed a Grammy nomination for Best Americana Album.) As he’s done for years, Taylor asks a lot of questions in his lyrics without filling in the answer. One could say that he positions himself as a moderator who introduces a conversation, rather than an expert who knows everything about everything.

“That’s always been the way that I write,” he tells BGS. “I’ve been talking for many years about this idea of making an album that’s full of questions with no answers. In a lot of ways, I’m less interested in the answer than I am in the question, if that makes sense. Because the answer might change from day to day. I find the question often to be the thing remains steady, more or less.”

Not long before heading back to his native California to finally visit his family there, Taylor caught up with BGS by phone about Quietly Blowing It, releasing June 25.

BGS: One of the reasons I like listening to “Sanctuary” is because you can hear the band in the groove, in the space between the verses. It makes it feel like a band record.

Taylor: I think for the type of music that I make, the best light that it can be shown in is when you can hear everybody working together. The music is a collective music and it thrives on the collective energy of the players. That’s why I was hesitant to jump into making anything totally remotely. If my options were to either record remotely or do nothing, I would have chosen not to make a record because that collective energy feels really important to this music.

The second time I listened to this album all the way through, I really noticed the drums. It’s like its own energy coming through. Did you feel that too?

Yeah, in a lot of ways the record was written around the drum parts. I spent a lot of time coming up with the way I wanted the drums to work, at home, and sketching out drum patterns and drum parts, and layering different percussive elements over that. Then I brought those ideas to the two people that played all that stuff: Matt McCaughan played the drum kit and a friend of mine named Brevan Hampden played a lot of the percussion. It was meant to feel like this churning machine, almost. You know what I mean? A lot of the parts are pretty simple, but they’re sympathetic to the songs. Simple in theory, but very hard to play in a way that swings as hard as Matt and Brevan do.

To me, “Hardlytown” is about people who are staying the course against a world that’s pushing back against them. Is that pretty close to what that song is about?

Yeah, that song is addressing this idea of the way that we set up the systems in order to live our lives the way we think we want to. And how, so often, what we give feels like more than what we get back. There are many ways to do that math, of course. When I started out being a musician, I spent way more than I made back. That was like the first 15 years of my life as a musician, playing out in public.

However, there’s the whole existential math. [Laughs] Where you start to factor in joy and spiritual payoff, and that becomes another set of equations that start to figure into it all. I was trying to work my way through that, “Hardlytown” being the place where maybe you don’t get back what you put into it, but you keep at it anyway. It’s meant to be a little salty around the edges but it’s meant to be a song of hope. It may not be unqualified hope, but I think the heart of that song is a certain kind of hope.

There’s a line in that song that says, “People, get ready / There’s a big ship coming,” and that reminded me of your love of Curtis Mayfield. Why does his music resonate with you?

He’s the whole package to me. He has an absolute command of groove. His arrangements are so elegant and affecting. He really knew how to make you feel something, and his writing is second to none, in terms of finding that sweet spot between the sacred and the everyday. I’ve said this a lot lately, but he was really good about singing about the potential of hope. You think about the time during which songs like “People Get Ready” were written. It’s hard to imagine there was an abundance of hope for him and the communities that he moved through. But they somehow continued to write these songs that feel anthemic, in the way that they talk about the potential of hope, and how important hope is to carry, even if you can’t fly the flag at the particular hope at that moment.

In the video for “If It Comes in the Morning,” you have Mike Wiley, a Black actor, lip-syncing to your track. Why did that treatment appeal to you?

It’s been interesting to hear certain reactions to that video. First of all, Mike Wiley is a friend of mine that I’ve been doing work with, off and on, for over a decade. He’s an incredible stage actor. And I knew that I wanted somebody to be looking directly into a camera as they lip-synced the words. So, my thought was, who can stare into a camera for the duration of the song without flinching? And not have crazy camera eyes? I can’t do that, I don’t have that skill set. You put a camera on me for more than three minutes and I start to look like George Jones or something. [Laughs]

So, my intuition was to get in touch with Mike Wiley. He’s an expert at that. It certainly was not lost on me that Mike Wiley is a Black actor, so there was going to be added layers of information with that video. And heightened interpretations because of the moments we are living through collectively. I’ve heard some people say, “I don’t get this video. What is this video trying to say or do?” And plenty of people have not commented either way, whatever, they like the song. Other people have been angry about it. But when I see the video, I see my buddy Mike Wiley lip-syncing the words and Mike happens to be an extremely gifted actor who is Black.

What does the word “it” represent in that title, “If It Comes in the Morning”?

I mean, it depends. “It” could be victory, defeat. If things go my way in the morning, how am I going to behave to people that were on my side, or people who were on the other side? If defeat arrives in the morning, how am I going to behave to people that I was working with, or to people who were working against me? I was thinking about how I might behave to someone that might be my adversary in some situation. Would I behave with respect? Or would I kick sand in their face? I like to think the former, but sometimes I think the latter. And that’s a “quietly blowing it” moment. [Laughs]

How would you describe the room where you wrote these songs?

It’s about 10 feet by 12 or 14 feet. It’s pretty small and it’s full of guitars, books, records, and sometimes a drum kit and amplifiers. Depending on my mood, it can feel like an oasis or like a prison cell. [Laughs]

During that time when we were all staying home, I spent a lot of time on the greenway. Did you get a chance to get outside, too?

Yeah, we got outside a fair bit. We have a pretty big backyard. Durham is full of green spaces, so yeah, I found the outdoors to be a balm over this past year. No question about that. We did a lot of camping this year, and that was fun also.

How did you wind up in Durham?

Many years ago, I went to grad school at UNC. This was back in 2007 and my wife and I just ended up staying. I don’t even remember what our intention was, whether we thought we were going to stay for a long time or move somewhere else. But this was pre-kids and over time North Carolina just started to feel like home. We bounced around this region a lot. We lived in Chapel Hill first and we lived outside of a small town called Pittsboro. Then we gravitated towards Durham. It’s a perfect-sized down in my opinion. Lots of incredible food, art, music, so this is where we ended up and it feels like home.

Before this band took off, I’m sure you were doing a lot of odd jobs. I think I read at some point that you were selling swimsuits over the phone?

Yeah, I did. That was a long time ago, back in college in California. I didn’t last. I was selling women’s swimsuits over the phone. Like, I was a 22-year-old guy and didn’t know the first thing about anything about that. [Laughs] I had no business answering those telephones. They should not have had me there. They didn’t have me there for long. They fired me after two weeks. They could tell I was the wrong person for the job.

You’ve said elsewhere that you still feel the pull of California. Is that why the video for “Glory Strums” looks the way it does?

Yes, it is. In normal times I would be in California many times a year. California is where most of my family still lives. Like many people, I haven’t seen them since this all started and my kids haven’t seen my parents in almost two years. I’m really pining for California in a way that I haven’t before. Because I’ve traveled to California so frequently, I’ve kept that homesickness at bay. It never affected me because I knew that within the next month or two months I would be out there again. I haven’t been out there for a year and a half and I can really feel it.

It made me think about this article in the New Yorker in 1998 called L.A. Glows. It’s about a native Californian meditating on the light in Southern California. I remember reading it at the time and thinking it was interesting. I understood this theory that different places could have different qualities of light that would affect people that knew that place. But now I can feel that on an emotional level.

How did that video come together?

Vikesh Kapoor is the director and he is someone I have known for many years. Back in 2013 or 2014, I was playing in Portland, Oregon, opening up for Justin Townes Earle, and I was traveling alone. I was looking for someone to sell merch for me, so I put out a call on social media, I think. Vikesh volunteered to do it and we met that night at the merch table, where he sold my stuff. We kept in touch after that. He’s a songwriter himself and he’s made a few great records. And he’s a pretty respected photographer.

I knew that he was living in Los Angeles now and I got this wild hair that I thought Vikesh could make a video. We talked a lot about the light – the hazy, Southern California quality of light that I was missing. I asked him whether he thought he could get that into the video and he did, to his great credit. He didn’t have a whole lot to go on. [Laughs] He made something that is really beautiful and it does speak to the place where the video was made.

During that time when you were touring solo, what did you like most about just you and the road?

I still do that kind of touring once in a while, just to get that feeling again. I mean, there’s something about being footloose out on the road that can be really exhilarating, even still. I’m one of those people that picked up Jack Kerouac’s On the Road and Desolation Angels when I was 17 years old and read them. I was just like, yep, this is the life for me. And the older I get, it’s a complex life, living your life on the road. You’ve got to work to take care of yourself, which I don’t think a lot of those Beat Generation writers did very well. But there remains a romance of just traveling through.

One thing I’ve noticed about this record, though, is that there’s a lot of other voices singing with you. What do you like about that?

I love the human voice as an instrument. Just like instruments, every human voice is different and resonates differently. It affects a microphone differently. I think that voices singing in harmony can really elevate a melody. It adds a very important color to a record, for me. We did have a bunch of voices on this record. It’s a pretty magical sensation to be able to sing in harmony with someone. It’s like an electric jolt is running through you.


Photo credit: Chris Frisina

Robert Macfarlane and Johnny Flynn Join Forces for ‘Lost in the Cedar Wood’

It was a week into lockdown last March that Robert Macfarlane got in touch with Johnny Flynn. The pair were already good friends. Macfarlane is a Cambridge University academic and a bestselling author; his many books, such as The Old Ways and The Wild Places, have helped shape a renaissance in nature writing. Flynn – as well-known for his acting as his albums – writes songs that reverberate with an inescapable yearning for the rural and the pastoral. Britain’s landscape is a place of solace and inspiration for both.

The early days of the pandemic were disturbing, disorienting, frightening. They were also quiet. The nation stayed home and traffic all but ceased: towns fell as silent as the countryside, birdsong had never sounded louder. Macfarlane asked Flynn if he’d like to write a song together and the act of creating together was something to cling to amid the tumult. “It started as just a song,” said Flynn, “and then it became a few songs… but it held me in place and kept me from completely spinning out.”

This May they released the result of their labours: an album, Lost in the Cedar Wood. The combination of Flynn’s folk sensibility with Macfarlane’s sense of place is so sympathetic that you can’t quite believe it’s their first collaboration. But then, Flynn had been reading Macfarlane’s books long before they first met. And Macfarlane was listening to Flynn’s albums like A Larum and Country Mile as he wrote. The author, in fact, thanked the musician in the acknowledgement pages, “because they were the songs I was listening to when I was out walking, and I knew every chord by heart.”

Eventually, a mutual friend introduced them; their first meeting was, in the most English of ways, at a friendly game of cricket. Their shared love of nature and passion for conservation sparked instant bromance. All three of those things manifest in the music they’ve made together.

“Rob was sending me articles about the pandemic being created by deforestation,” says Flynn, “but we were also talking about all the literature that people were reading with a new interest or perspective – Daniel Defoe’s Journal of a Plague Year, or Shakespeare’s King Lear.” Thinking of Anais Mitchell’s Hadestown, based on the Orpheus myth, they wondered what other stories might be worth exploring. Flynn looks at Macfarlane and laughs: “And you said ‘There’s always Gilgamesh’ – as if that was too obvious.”

A 4,000-year-old poem about a Sumerian king, written in cuneiform and discovered on tablets in the ruins of an ancient Assyrian library, might not seem that obvious a starting point to everyone. But it is, as Macfarlane points out, “the oldest story in world literature,” and its potent themes cast extraordinarily contemporary parallels. In the poem two warriors, Gilgamesh and Enkidu, defy the gods by cutting down a sacred forest, bringing calamity upon themselves. “The most powerful myths have a prescient as well as a retrospective vision to them,” says Macfarlane. “And that combination of ancient and urgent pushed us on.”

The songs were written back and forth via WhatsApp and voice memos: “There’s an incredible ease to writing with Johnny,” says Macfarlane. “I never worry much, and we trust each other to say if something isn’t working. I call it the Johnny Flynn song machine. I type out a bunch of words, send them over and they come back as this unbelievable song.”

Macfarlane would like to make clear, at this point, that he can’t play a note; he describes himself as having “all the musical abilities of a deckchair” (“Not true!” says Flynn). When it comes to collaboration with musicians, however, this deckchair has an impressive résumé. He has written a libretto for a jazz opera, had his poems turned into protest songs, and worked with a supergroup of British folk talent – including Kris Drever, Julie Fowlis and Karine Polwart – to create Spell Songs, a musical adaptation of his and Jackie Morris’s book The Lost Words.

Those experiences taught Macfarlane a great deal. “I’ve learned that good lyrics are about letting go, about cutting out order,” he says. “My teacherly prose writer’s inclination to bring grammar to everything has to be left at the door. And a year working with Johnny has brought me to the point where I’ve learned to let the light into language.” He’s particularly pleased with the song “Uncanny Valley,” to be released on seven-inch later this year, “about how things don’t join up with each other in the year we’ve just lived through.”

That sense of dissociation permeates Lost in the Cedar Wood, where melodies expand and contract like our perceptions of time during lockdown. The album doesn’t retell the Gilgamesh narrative – it’s more a series of meditations inspired by it – but Flynn and Macfarlane aren’t shy of tackling its epic themes like death and rebirth.

This should not imply that listening to it is a heavy experience: quite the opposite, in fact. What’s astonishing about the record is how much delight there is in it, from the instantly catchy resonator riff of the opening track “Ten Degrees of Strange” to the modal funk of “Bonedigger.” It often manages to be moving and funny at the same time, as in the plaintive lyrics of “I Can’t Swim There”: “My friend Harry’s got legs to spare/But I can’t find my body, I’ve looked everywhere.”

That sense of light and dark is beautifully mingled in “The World to Come,” which begins with an owlishly haunting melody and ends in a mighty accelerando, gathering speed until it’s a wild, whooping chorus of multiple voices – including Macfarlane’s. “In his wonderfully inclusive way Johnny did recruit me into some distant backing vocals,” he laughs. “And that song is effectively a party — not at the end of the world, but maybe at the beginning of a better world to come. So Johnny was encouraging us into the kitchen — whack the taps! jump up and down! There’s a cutlery basket that goes down at the end and the rawness of that in the record is wonderful to hear.”

The majority of the tracks were recorded in an off-grid cottage on the borders of Dorset and Hampshire, the recording equipment run off batteries powered by solar panels. “I love those albums like Music from Big Pink and The Basement Tapes,” says Flynn, “where you’re feeling the room where it was recorded. And for this one we were in the middle of forestry land, so there was the sound of chainsaws cutting pine trees coming through the windows, and we’d jump out of the window to record birdsong, and we were really in the sonic universe of the stories we were telling.”

Also singing on the album is Flynn’s nine-year-old son Gabriel. That inclusion was important to Flynn – not just because Gabriel is a promising young musician, but because parenting was such an intrinsic part of Flynn’s life, and even his creative process, in the past year.

“I was getting up before the kids in order to write and I’d be halfway through an idea when they piled down for breakfast,” he grins. “Often Rob would get a phone demo of me trying to sing a song and halfway through I’m shouting at the kids…”

“Daddy, where’s the marmalade?” says Macfarlane, recalling the interruptions.

“It was intense,” adds Flynn, “worrying about three kids, but the lovely thing about having them at home was getting to really go into every aspect of their thought process and their day.”

Macfarlane nods. “Stepping out of work into the arms of my eight-year-old, as he runs down the garden, that’s a nice commute.” He pauses. “I hope something like that stays, after lockdown.”

Because that’s the real question behind this album: what have we learned from humanity’s most recent crisis, and how will it change us? When Gilgamesh loses Enkidu as a result of their sacrilegious actions, he begins a new quest for the secret of eternal life. It’s no spoiler to reveal that he doesn’t find it: appreciating what he already has is more to the point.

It is not lost on Flynn and Macfarlane, for instance, that Gilgamesh is a story of close male friendship – even if, as Macfarlane jokingly points out, one of the characters dies horribly and the other’s a brutal despot. You can picture them together, Flynn and Macfarlane, on their much-prized walks through the English countryside, talking of this and that, and coming up with their next creative ideas.

It has, they agree, been a joyful process, and this joint project is surely the first of many. It may have forced them to confront some of their greatest fears for the natural world and the planet on which we live, but it has also endowed them with fresh hope.

Macfarlane also hopes that people don’t feel they need to know anything about Gilgamesh to enjoy the songs – or treat it as a pandemic album. “The days and months of lockdown do soak through its pores but they’re never named,” he says. “I hope in five years time anyone can put their ear to it and not feel they need a key to understand it.”


Photo credit: Hanna-Katrina Jędrosz

WATCH: Charly Lowry & The Heart Collectors, “Navigating to Hope”

Artist: Charly Lowry & The Heart Collectors
Hometown: Charly Lowry: Pembroke, North Carolina; The Heart Collectors: Hinterland Byron Bay, NSW, Australia
Song: “Navigating to Hope” from Folk Alliance‘s Artists In (Their) Residence program
Release Date: June 1, 2021

In Their Words: “It’s safe to say this global ordeal has proven that no one being has all of the answers; we are all navigating this plane the best way we know how. The Heart Collectors and I find ourselves on opposite sides of planet Earth, navigating to hope. We likened our experiences during this time to being aboard a ship, fighting against Poseidon’s watery fists and underneath dark, ominous skies. We do so with the understanding that we are in this together, and instead of accepting the defeat of a sinking ship, we remain steadfast in our voyage to find our lighthouse, our beacon of hope. This type of imagery was key in the songwriting process and aided us in delivering a message for the downtrodden. Whatever your case may be, we encourage you to seek your peace first, and then move your vessel onward and forward to hope for a new day, season, or way of being.” — Charly Lowry

“Coming together in collaboration from all points on the earth is an extraordinary experience, and one that makes our world so much bigger. Hearing and being present to the stories of people and cultures from one side of the world to another made us see how we literally are all in this together, we have all suffered this at once. Not in our life time has a global experience like this ever been the case, and it brings everything to a level. Things that seemed important became unimportant. The heartbreak of individuals suffering has a profound way of naturally breaking us open to be so much more capable than the usual way of dealing with existence. Finding each other and joining in this online type of creative common room has been the unifying strength to move forward, one step at a time.” — The Heart Collectors


Photo credit: Courtesy of Folk Alliance, Charly Lowry, and the Heart Collectors

WATCH: Matt Sweeney & Bonnie ‘Prince’ Billy, “Resist the Urge”

Artist: Matt Sweeney & Bonnie ‘Prince’ Billy
Hometown: New York, New York (Matt Sweeney); Louisville, Kentucky (Bonnie ‘Prince’ Billy, a.k.a. Will Oldham)
Song: “Resist the Urge” (music video by skateboarders Kevin “Spanky” Long and Atiba Jefferson)
Album: Superwolves
Release Date: April 30, 2021
Label: Drag City

In Their Words: “Spanky and Atiba’s video rules. We try to make the listener feel insanely at home in a musical space. Atiba and Spanky have made us feel like we own a share of the skateable world. We got David Ferguson out from behind the board to play double-bass on this one. It needed the lift that only a Ferg could deliver.” — Will Oldham

“I always wanted to see a full video part with just one skater, and once I got asked to work on a video for this record, I knew that Kevin ‘Spanky’ Long was perfect — his way of cutting out, resizing, moving and manipulating photos and videos is amazing, but also he is an amazing pro skater. I asked a lot of Spanky: I wanted him to star, direct, edit, film and do all of the artwork! It was a tall ask, but I know his love for Matt and Will would shine thru. This video was made in the pandemic so it was just me and him going out and shooting together. We shot around LA for 14 days over 4 months. It was great to work so closely with Spanky’s vision but still have him in front of the camera. This collaboration of directing together was great because we are two different generations of skateboarders, but both coming from the pro skater’s perspective.” — Atiba Jefferson

“This was just a great excuse to make a skate video with a best friend for my favorite band. I ran the high def footage and super8 film into my iPhone where I painstakingly cut frame-by-frame, with relatively low-fi digital tools, to execute the stop-motion animation and digital collage elements. It was, in the end, the only way to achieve this look we were after. And we weaved in the layers of sea and sky to meet the big themes in ‘Resist the Urge.’ COVID restrictions made things tricky to get Matt and Will in there, but we revel in limitations.” – Kevin “Spanky” Long


Photo credit: Jonah Freeman & Justin Lowe

WATCH: Trapper Schoepp, “May Day”

Artist: Trapper Schoepp
Hometown: Milwaukee, Wisconsin
Song: “May Day”
Album: May Day
Release Date: May 21, 2021
Label: Grand Phony

In Their Words: “After this long, hard winter, the music of May Day marks the arrival of spring. The album title is a nod to the ancient holiday that’s historically celebrated by dancing around a maypole in the spirit of rebirth. The title track addresses the struggles of starting over with the tale of a transcontinental relationship that has come to a standstill. The pandemic allowed me to hit reset on certain parts of myself that had gotten lost in the last decade of touring. For all the brightness surrounding the holiday, there’s a dark side that inhabits the characters on the record — ghosts haunt the ‘Hotel Astor’ and lovers become disillusioned in ‘Paris Syndrome.’ The isolation of lockdown found its way into tracks like ‘Solo Quarantine’ and ‘Yellow Moon.’

“The watchtower is located at a secluded nature preserve in Mequon, Wisconsin. You can see for miles in each direction and I found it to be a tranquil environment right outside the city. One of the themes running throughout the album is the natural world and I wanted to highlight that with this video. Despite a cold wind blowing up there, it was also a joy to reunite with some videographer friends I hadn’t seen since COVID took hold.” — Trapper Schoepp


Photo credit: Abby Artish

LISTEN: Tim O’Brien, “I Breathe In”

Artist: Tim O’Brien
Hometown: Nashville, Tennessee
Song: “I Breathe In” ft. Mike Bub (bass), Shad Cobb (fiddle), and Jan Fabricius (harmony vocal)
Album: He Walked On
Release Date: June 25, 2021
Label: Howdy Skies!

In Their Words: “The project is about what you need to do to survive in America. We all need a roof over our head and something to eat, of course, but we also need love. I’ve been grateful to have Jan beside me during the pandemic. The song stresses the need to take things one step or one breath at a time, and to keep those you love close as you do so.” — Tim O’Brien


Photo credit: Scott Simontacchi

Harmonics with Beth Behrs: Kristin Chenoweth

This week on Harmonics, in honor of Mental Health Awareness Month, we bring you an emotional conversation with Tony- and Emmy-winning actress and singer Kristin Chenoweth.

LISTEN: APPLE • SPOTIFY • STITCHERAMAZON • POCKET CASTS • MP3

Having recently lost a lifelong voice teacher and dear friend to COVID-19 at the time of this interview, Kristin Chenoweth brings a very open conversation about grief and mental health, talking with host Beth Behrs about her struggles with depression and anxiety during the pandemic, and throughout her life — accepting that she does need to acknowledge her mental health struggles, even though due to her public persona, most people expect her to be “rainbows and glitter” 24/7.


Listen and subscribe to Harmonics through all podcast platforms and follow Harmonics and Beth Behrs on Instagram for series updates!

LISTEN: Zack Joseph, “Keeping Me Sane”

Artist: Zack Joseph
Hometown: Nashville, Tennessee (via upstate New York)
Song: “Keeping Me Sane”
Album: Keeping Me Sane
Release Date: April 16, 2021

In Their Words: “I wrote ‘Keeping Me Sane’ while I was in the midst of a serious long-distance relationship. When loneliness and uncertainty would take hold, I’d turned to my vices to cope (whiskey & Coke, beverage of choice) and to serve as a distraction from my overactive imagination. It would feel like I was going insane — something I think most of us can relate to in navigating new relationships. In this instance though, the knowledge that my partner was out there thinking about me was enough to pull me through and keep the crazy at bay… or, ‘keeping me sane,’ if you will. While this song was recorded well before the COVID-19 pandemic hit, its meaning has only been amplified. Every person on this planet has now experienced the loneliness and struggles of being separated from a loved one. Let this song serve as a reminder that someone out there is thinking of you — a little something to carry you through these tough moments until you’re reunited.” — Zack Joseph


Photo credit: Ali Miller

LISTEN: Keb’ Mo’ Feat. Old Crow Medicine Show, “The Medicine Man”

Artists: Keb’ Mo’ featuring Old Crow Medicine Show
Hometown: Nashville, Tennessee
Single: “The Medicine Man”
Release Date: March 19, 2021
Label: Concord Records

In Their Words: “I was taking some time out at our house in California with my family. We were locked in and staying away from people. Doing Zoom writing appointments, watching Dr. Fauci on TV doing interviews, and it sparked some ideas. This was one of those songs that just came to me, and quickly. I woke up early one morning and wrote the whole thing in about 15 minutes. Maybe it was the subliminal use of the word ‘medicine’ that made me think of my friend Ketch from Old Crow Medicine Show, so I called him and said, ‘I’ve got a song for you guys.’ In essence, the song is about things that are out of our control, but we should do our best to be good people and citizens and spread love instead of germs.” — Keb’ Mo’

“I first met Keb’ three years ago backstage at the Grand Ole Opry and sensed immediately that we needed to work together. I’d been listening to his music since the late ’90s, so this recent collaboration is something of a two-decade-long full circle of intentions. I called him up two autumns ago and asked if he’d hold some dates to play some live shows together and he said, ‘Can’t now, but soon.’ Well, soon enough came around again this past December when he sent me a brand new song he’d written a few hours before. The song captured the urgency of these stark times like no other I’d heard. It didn’t mince words. No sugarcoating, no placebo effects, rather it was a ‘give it to me straight, doc’ kind of a tune, which told an objective truth, one undiluted by affiliation, vantage point, persuasion. The song shook me up and I wrote back to him that night in December, ‘We got to rush this out soon. Real soon.’ Old Crow jumped right into gear, recording Keb’s powerful song of the times within days of the ink drying. It was a joy. It felt dutiful, meet and right, urgent, essential. And harmonious.” — Ketch Secor, Old Crow Medicine Show


Photo of Keb’ Mo’: Jeremy Cowart; Photo of Old Crow Medicine Show: Kit Wood