You Gotta Hear This: New Music From Aaron Burdett, Nic Gareiss, and More

Here’s a flock of brand new songs and videos you gotta hear! This week, our premiere round-up includes Americana, fiddle tunes, percussive dance, good country, string band excellence, and more.

Don’t miss new tracks like “Second Best,” from Americana singer-songwriter and Steep Canyon Rangers vocalist Aaron Burdett, and “China Camp,” a fiddle tune written by Paul Shelasky and performed by Amy Kassir with Jake Eddy and more. Also, Wisconsin’s own Them Coulee Boys drop “I Am Not Sad,” a song that grapples with mental health from their upcoming 2025 album, No Fun In The Chrysalis.

We’ve got some superlative videos this week, as well! Percussive dancer and folk musician Nic Gareiss dances us through a gorgeous, queer rendition of a Gillian Welch song, “Back Turn and Swing,” and alt-folk trio Palmyra have brought a live field recording of “Fried,” a song from their brand new EP, Surprise #1. Meanwhile, Eilen Jewell pays tribute to Loretta Lynn and spotlights the progress and regression of the last 50 years of reproductive rights activism with a cover of “The Pill.”

To wrap us up, we don’t want you to miss the latest AEA Session, premiered in partnership with AEA Ribbon Mics on BGS earlier this week. This edition of the series features Brit Taylor & Adam Chaffins, performing live at Americanafest last month.

It’s all right here on BGS and, certainly, You Gotta Hear This!


Aaron Burdett, “Second Best”

Artist: Aaron Burdett
Hometown: Saluda, North Carolina
Song: “Second Best”
Release Date: October 25, 2024
Label: Organic Records

In Their Words: “You might say ‘Second Best’ was a song 30 years in the making. I’ve had this line from an old David Wilcox song rattling around in my head since the ’90s. It always struck me as a phrase that could be interpreted in many different ways. So I eventually started playing with that idea and bouncing it off various scenes and situations. A year or so ago I landed on the one (or two) that ended up in the recording, along with the original Wilcox line that inspired the chorus. Some songs arrive quickly, and some arrive much more slowly!” – Aaron Burdett

Track Credits:
Aaron Burdett – Vocals, acoustic guitar
Kristin Scott Benson – Banjo
Carley Arrowood – Fiddle
Tristan Scroggins – Mandolin
Jon Weisberger – Upright bass
Wendy Hickman – Harmony vocals
Travis Book – Harmony vocals


Nic Gareiss, “Back Turn and Swing”

Artist: Nic Gareiss
Hometown: Lansing, Michigan
Song: “Back Turn and Swing”
Release Date: October 25, 2024

In Their Words: “When I heard Gillian Welch’s song ‘Back Turn and Swing,’ I was immediately drawn to the way it brings the listener into the scene of a dance event: musicians tuning up, someone cooking potluck food to pass around, the excitement in the air, folks eager to get up onto the floor. The lyrics evoke the feeling of the square and contra dances I grew up attending in the rural Midwest. At the same time, as a non-binary queer person, I feel bodily unease around how the song sets up the dualistic gender of the attendees.

“Many folk dances these days have adopted expansive and inclusive dance calls, like using ‘larks and robins,’ ‘lefts and rights,’ etc. (shoutout to Michigan’s Looking Glass and Ten Pound Fiddle contra dances, Detroit’s queer square dance, Asheville’s Old Farmer’s Ball, and Brooklyn’s Gayli). Yet I’m still compelled to check beforehand that the caller – the authoritarian voice at the front of the hall telling people what to do with their bodies – is onboard with same-sex couples dancing together or trans and genderqueer people expanding these roles. This past summer a partner and I were at a dance when someone in their 20s asked us mid-set, ‘Who is the man?’ This reminded me that there’s still work to do; inclusivity still requires advocacy and allyship to help all feel welcome in the dynamism of the dance floor.

“Speaking of dynamic, as a child I saw John Hartford and was both astonished and inspired by the soundscapes he could create; dance, music, and song all embodied in one person. I aspire towards that dance-as-music in this video, where I added a few lyrics to the last verse.” – Nic Gareiss

Video Credits: Filmed by Blake Hannahson. Audio mixed by Jaron Freeman-Fox.


Eilen Jewell, “The Pill”

Artist: Eilen Jewell
Hometown: Boise, Idaho
Song: “The Pill”
Album: Butcher Holler: A Tribute To Loretta Lynn
Release Date: October 22, 2024 (single); November 15, 2024 (album)
Label: Signature Sounds

In Their Words: “The amazing thing about ‘The Pill’ is that it still feels edgy today, nearly 50 years after its original release. Loretta infused it with so much sassy defiance that, even now, when I sing it live and reach the phrase ‘now I’ve got the pill,’ some fans pump their fists while others clutch their pearls. It still strikes a nerve, a testament both to how effective this song is and how little progress we’ve made in this country in terms of reproductive rights.

“Loretta still holds the prestigious record for the singer of more banned radio hits than all other male country artists in the twentieth century combined. And ‘The Pill’ was the most banned of all of her songs, which is saying a lot. By recording and performing it live, I hope to do my part to spread the word about the importance of public access to family planning as an integral part of a woman’s right to the pursuit of happiness. It’s hard to believe this fight is still going on, but until it’s over I’ll be here for it.” – Eilen Jewell

A note from the artist: A percentage of sales from “The Pill” will be donated to Planned Parenthood.

Video Credits: Bill Hurley at The Fallout Shelter in Norwood, Massachusetts


Amy Kassir, “China Camp”

Artist: Amy Kassir
Hometown: Durham, North Carolina. Currently lives in San Rafael, California.
Song: “China Camp”
Album: Bread and Butter
Release Date: October 25, 2024

In Their Words: “‘China Camp’ is a great tune by the legendary California fiddler Paul Shelasky. I first heard it on the 1983 Good Ol’ Persons record, I Can’t Stand to Ramble, and I’ve been obsessed ever since. While so many tunes on my album are ‘bread and butter’ fiddle tunes I grew up playing in North Carolina, I wanted to include a tune that represents the rich musical legacy of California, which has been my home for the last 10 years. I’m so thankful Paul gave me his blessing to record this tune.

“This recording features Jake Eddy on guitar and banjo, Korey Kassir on mandolin, and Carter Eddy on bass. It’s such an exciting tune to play, and we had a lot of fun bringing it to life.” – Amy Kassir


Palmyra, “Fried”

Artist: Palmyra
Hometown: Richmond, Virginia
Song: “Fried”
Album: Surprise #1 (EP)
Release Date: October 24, 2024
Label: Oh Boy Records

In Their Words: “As we have ventured into playing bigger stages and festivals, our sound has expanded significantly. While the core of Palmyra remains the three of us, we’ve been experimenting with a larger four-piece sound, as heard on the recorded version of ‘Fried’ on our new EP, Surprise #1, with Oh Boy Records. ‘Fried’ is our most ambitious acoustic experiment, starting with a drum set and a hypnotic repetitive guitar lick. Recording the song acoustically with one microphone in a field was a fun way for us to find the core of the tune. It was a challenge to see how many elements we could strip away and still keep the groove. We like to call ‘Fried’ our ‘jam band’ song, and we hope even this field recording gets you on your feet.” – Palmyra

Track Credits:
Written by Sasha Landon, Mānoa Lewis Bell, and Teddy Chipouras.
Sasha Landon – Mandocello, voice
Teddy Chipouras – Guitar, voice
Mānoa Bell – Upright bass, voice
Jake Cochran – Drums

Video Credit: Elliott Crotteau


Them Coulee Boys, “I Am Not Sad”

Artist: Them Coulee Boys
Hometown: Eau Claire, Wisconsin
Song: “I Am Not Sad”
Album: No Fun In The Chrysalis
Release Date: October 29, 2024 (single); February 28, 2025 (album)
Label: Some Fun Records

In Their Words: “‘I Am Not Sad‘ is the last song on the record and captures the theme of accepting change this record focuses on. I’ve struggled with my mental health my whole life, dealing with depression, anxiety, and issues with self worth. I’ve embraced those issues in my songwriting, hoping to shine a light on things that we all go through from time to time. We have plenty of songs that talk about these issues, but this one is the first that accepts them.

“The song is built around the phrase ‘I am not sad anymore, at least not today.’ It’s a celebration of the happiness in the moment, while acknowledging that there’s times when it’s harder. It’s about being thankful for the good times, and letting them stack up on one another for when the bad times come. It’s a declaration, a moment of catharsis, while knowing that it won’t always be like that.

“Sonically it starts sparsely, with elements of the band being added with each verse, like confidence growing in one’s self as you begin to believe. It’s self-assured, with strummed mandolin and piano a backdrop for growth. When the bridge lyrically introduces the idea that these positive feelings might not last, the musical interlude represents the choice to embrace that realization. An ethereal, almost dream-like backdrop sets up the catharsis of the last verse. When the last verse hits, it invites all the good feelings back for a triumphant jam. It’s loud and snarls in the face of the hard times. It’s meant to soar and it does.” – Soren Staff


AEA Sessions: Brit Taylor & Adam Chaffins, Live at AmericanaFest 2024

Artist: Brit Taylor & Adam Chaffins
Hometown: Hindman, Kentucky (Brit), Louisa, Kentucky (Adam); now, both call Nashville home.
Songs: “Little Bit at a Time,” “Holding On Holding Out,” “Trailer Trash,” “The Best We Can Do Is Love,” and “Saint Anthony”

In Their Words: “It was fun playing and talking about new songs on some incredible sounding AEA gear with Brit Taylor on the Bell tone sessions!” – Adam Chaffins

“Brit and Adam’s songs are personal, yet universal. They are warm in person and it’s clear they spend a lot of time together singing, playing, and writing. Their vocals weave and intertwine so effortlessly.” – Julie Tan, AEA Ribbon Mics

More here.


Photo Credit: Aaron Burdett by Mike Duncan; Nic Gareiss by Blake Hannahson.

Jake Blount, “Goodbye, Honey, You Call That Gone”

The title of banjoist, fiddler, and ethnomusicologist Jake Blount’s upcoming album, Spider Tales, is a reference to Anansi the Spider, a folklore character of the Akan people of West Africa. Says Blount, “The Anansi were tales that celebrated unseating the oppressor, and finding ways to undermine those in power even if you’re not in a position to initiate a direct conflict.” 

With such a deft, succinct mission, Blount takes a vibrant and dense, harlequin cultural tradition — which has lived on across the African diaspora, brought to the United States and colonies in this hemisphere by enslaved Africans — and applies it to a collection of old-time tunes in a way that’s intuitive and digestible. Without oversimplification or homogenization to achieve broader “appeal,” these songs and these instruments speak to much more important lessons and narratives than the average old-time record.

Take for instance “Goodbye, Honey, You Call That Gone.” A tastefully unadorned tune, performed by Blount on banjo and percussive dancer and scholar Nic Gareiss, it comes from Lucius Smith, a Black Mississippi banjoist recorded by Alan Lomax first in the ‘40s. “Smith played a steel-string banjo rather than a nylon-string one like mine,” Blount explains. “But tuned all the way down to the same pitch. The looseness of [his] strings causes the pitch of each note to waver as he plays it, imparting a ‘wandering’ quality to the melody.”

Wandering, a condition not uncommon among diasporic communities, or Appalachian musical traditions, or queer folks, or movers and dancers, is not only communicated here in the tune’s title, and its delightful, lazy half-tones and breaths of quarter-tones, but also in the syncopation, virtuosity and musicality of Gareiss’ feet playing off Blount’s clawhammer. 

Above all of these, the epitome of Blount’s Spider Tales may be the intention with which Blount and Gareiss approach creating and music-making together, providing an indelible benchmark by which we can better learn to queer old-time and string band music while telling its true, unabridged history, and centering Black, Indigenous, and non-white stories — all with the same treepling toes and fretting fingers.


Editor’s Note: Blount and Gareiss will be featured in the Bluegrass Situation Presents: A St. Patrick’s Day Festival at New York’s New Irish Arts Center, participating in an opening night jam session with clawhammer banjoist Allison de Groot and fiddler Tatiana Hargreaves on March 17 as well as a headlining performance on March 18.

Nic Gareiss: The Subtle Art of Queering Traditional Dance

American music and dance have always gone hand-in-hand. Immigrants, bringing their folk traditions, art, and music to North America, combined and cross-pollinated with and stole and borrowed from the art and music of Native Americans, African Slaves, and African Americans. In that beautiful, conflicted, human, melting pot way we arrived at the incredible roots genres of our modern time. Dance had always been an integral part of that reckoning, of the growth, adaptation, and molding of our country’s vernacular music, but at the advent of the recording industry and the commercialization of music, musical dance and percussive dance were left by the wayside. They fell from ubiquity and popularity, largely relegated to preservationist, folklorist, familial, and rural niches.

Nic Gareiss doesn’t believe that dance belongs in those shadowed corners of our musical realms. A percussive dancer, scholar, and ethnochoreologist (think ethnomusicologist, but for dance — choreography), Gareiss devotes his creativity to bringing dance as music back into the traditional and vernacular genres that have slowly but surely lost nearly all of its influence. In the process, he explores greater ideas about his listeners’ and audiences’ expectations about the relationships of dance and melody, dancer and musician, dance partner and dance partner, song and singer, and performer and audience. Not only does he “queer” dance, by stripping it of its normative trappings, and laying its essentials bare, he also queers its heteronormativity, its patriarchal tendencies, and its binaryism — in a fashion that’s supremely gorgeous to both the ears and the eyes.  

A good starting point would just be that we’re a music site, right? We cover music, not so much dance. Some readers might need a quick briefing on your mantra that “dance is music.” Can you give people a quick 101 on your worldview that dance is something that’s essential to music, not just tangential to it?

I work as a dancer who makes sound. The traditions that I study and continue to study — and love — are dance traditions that are percussive. Whether that’s Appalachian clogging, Irish step dancing, or step dance from Canada, all of these dance forms have as their impetus rhythm-making with the feet and body. Also characteristic of these styles is the fact that they occur in environments where traditional music is being played. One might actually argue, and I would probably puckishly argue, that the soundscape that’s created by dancers is actually as much a part of the soundscape of traditional music as someone playing a fiddle or a banjo.

It’s interesting that that is an extant truth about vernacular music — especially American vernacular musics — but the way that American music has grown and evolved, it’s extirpated dance from itself, and then brought it back in, in different ways.

I think that because of the commercialization of music over the years, especially because of recording technology, dance hasn’t had as prominent a role, sonically. For some reason people didn’t think that the sound of a moving body was worth recording as much as the sound of another moving body, but holding a guitar. [Chuckles] What I’m interested in doing as I work mostly with musicians, and usually musicians that come from folk music backgrounds of some kind, is creating dance for listening. That manifests in mostly concerts, but also in some recordings, some teaching, some lecturing — there are a lot of things that make up my year along those lines.

One of those things is Solo Square Dance, a show that you’ve worked up, which strips away all of the old-time music and folk music that’s a part of these forms of dance and just showcases the actual, physical dancing — the part that had been lost, perhaps due to that commercialization, like you were just saying.

Exactly. In Solo Square Dance there are no musicians, except for me! [Laughs] There are no sounds except the sounds that I create myself, using my voice, using my feet, snapping my fingers, whistling. The idea is to reference and pay homage to traditional music and dance as a symbiotic entity. Because I don’t play instruments in that show, that means that traditional music shows up almost as a specter, or as a concept of something that’s been erased, so you can still feel a trace of it. It’s not just the idea of traditional music as a nebulous canon of the music writ large. Instead, there are actually specific pieces of music that come from, say, the fiddle playing of Tommy Jarrell or a traditional Irish dance tune that shows up in a tribute to one of my Irish dance teachers. There is various music in the show, it’s just music as made through a sounding body without a prosthesis, without an instrument.

Something that you’re also digging into with Solo Square Dance is leaving behind a whole host of presuppositions and expectations about dance, but you specifically call out heteronormativity. There are so many layers here, because you have to unpack that dance is music, and that it’s always been an integral part of these musical styles, but then you have to unpack that dance is inherently heteronormative, too. That’s a lot of ground to cover!  

The interesting thing for me came out of these video clips of Bascom Lamar Lunsford dancing on the porch, in this film by David Hoffman that was shot in 1962. [In the film] Bascom is demonstrating what it would be like to be in a square dance, but he only has one body to do it, instead of the usual eight people that it takes to make up a square. I saw that and thought that that was kind of inherently lonely and beautiful. But also, it somehow simultaneously was merry and celebratory. I think Bascom’s reimagining or demonstrating of the square dance is kind of a queer thing — and by “queer,” in this moment, I mean a set of stylistics that are somehow “beyond,” somehow an outsider, that have that “crooked” or critical relationship to the normative. Making that first piece a solo square dance and building the rest of the show around it, I tried to think so much about the way that dance possibly enacts some kind of revolutionary potential. Through touch, through interaction of sound and gesture, through [considering] what it might be like to have communities that move together, and what it might be like to have an individual that a community watches.

In all those things, I kept coming up against this idea that there are, indeed, heteronormative facets of that. Like [in square dancing] when we say, “Gents, swing your corner lady.” We say only “gents” and “ladies.” We say only, “Gents do this.” So there’s also a patriarchal power there, in who does what to whom. There’s also a binary that doesn’t allow for, perhaps, the existence of something like polyamory, where there are multiple people involved in a romantic or physical connection. I started thinking about what it would be like, if instead of singing, [Sings] “I’m gonna get that, get that, get that, I’m gonna get that pretty little girl,” what is it like if someone who performs the gender that I perform sings about someone who has a similar gender as themself? That subtle switch turns more than I ever could’ve imagined. It didn’t take putting on heels and a feather boa to queer square dance, just the simple expression of speaking about intimacy, thinking about the gender dynamics of that special social form, and then creating that little shift in the reiteration of that call. Which, I’m really happy about! At first, to decide, I’m gonna “queer” traditional dance — it’s a little bit of an arduous project. I’m finding that it’s these subtle nuance shifts that maybe make the biggest strides to imagining anti-normative futures as well as pasts.

I read an interview of yours, years ago now, in which you mentioned so succinctly that straight people have always let their identities shine through their art, so why wouldn’t queer people do that, too? That was a groundbreaking moment for me, realizing that my identity has an equal right to being included in my art, because no one else is filtering out their identities, their identities just happen to be the norm. It doesn’t take a lot of effort, like you were just saying, it just takes a change in perspective to open that paradigm up. How do we help all kinds of folks to realize that anti-normative future that you see?

I think it’s important to remember that queer people are not a facet of postmodernity. Queerness has always existed.

That’s such an important point! It just hasn’t always been visible.

Right. When we think about traditional music, oftentimes we relate that not only to a particular place, but a particular time. It’s important to remember that there have always been LGBTQIA+ people in those historical moments, again, whether those people were allowed to visible or whether it was okay for them to be visible is another question. Now, some of what we’re starting to see is nascent queerness beginning to whisper, or to sing, or to dance. That feels like a very exciting time, but we’re not inventing that. Queerness [has] been around for a long time.

For example, people who sing ballads, who maybe keep the pronoun of the song the same, or maybe switch pronouns to express a sexual object choice that is somehow other than straight, this is a simple, subtle way people have always enacted some kind of queer performance. And for a long time! I don’t only think that it’s always related to romantic connections, to be honest. I really like the idea of queerness as a critical set of stylistics. For instance, my relationship to percussive dance is a little queer — or bent — because I had a teacher who always said, “There will be no scraping in our class.” That means, in percussive dance, good technique is a sharp, short, adroit connection to the floor, where you strike your foot against the ground, but you don’t leave it on the ground. That, for me, sort of became a provocation. It made me want to slide my foot, to whisper, to create this foot-to-floor fricative, for many reasons: One, it got me closer to a fiddle’s bow, sliding slowly across the strings, but secondly, simply for the pure joy of transgressing! It opens this world of other tambours I didn’t have access to before.

So then, in conclusion, if a reader and roots music fan is looking to have their ideas about traditional and percussive dance queered, where will they be able to find you in the near future?

Solo Square Dance will continue to tour, there are shows in Ireland and Scotland lined up. I have a new project called DuoDuo with cellist Natalie Haas, guitarist Yann Falquet, harpist Maeve Gilchrist, and myself. That project is out on the road. Also, my band, This Is How We Fly, is getting together to make our third record starting in November, which is very exciting. Then, in the fall, I’m touring with this incredible tap dancer, who is also interested in vernacular dance forms, vernacular jazz and swing — his name is Caleb Teicher. We have a duo dance project, again a project without any instruments! Just us, making the music with our bodies and voices.

Because dance is music, damnit.

Exactly! And, to be honest, music is dancing as well! [Laughs] I found, in my collaborations with musicians, when there’s a moving body on stage, musicians begin to consider their own bodies a little bit more. They start to think about where they stand and how they move. It’s actually an interesting metamorphosis to witness and be engaged with. It reminds everyone that if one person can cross the sound/movement divide, if a dancer can be heard, maybe a musician can be seen!


Editor’s Note: Gareiss will be featured in the Bluegrass Situation Presents: A St. Patrick’s Day Festival at New York’s New Irish Arts Center, participating in an opening night jam session with fiddler-banjoist Jake Blount, clawhammer banjoist Allison de Groot and fiddler Tatiana Hargreaves on March 17 as well as a headlining performance with Blount on March 18.

Photo credit: Darragh Kane