Tag: podcasts

Hangin’ & Sangin’: Amber Rubarth

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From the Bluegrass Situation and WMOT Roots Radio, it’s Hangin’ & Sangin’ with your host, BGS editor Kelly McCartney. Every week Hangin’ & Sangin’ offers up casual conversation and acoustic performances by some of your favorite roots artists. From bluegrass to folk, country, blues, and Americana, we stand at the intersection of modern roots music and old time traditions bringing you roots culture — redefined.

With me today in the Writers’ Rooms at the Hutton … Amber Rubarth. Glad you’re here!

Very happy to be here.

…

You have so many projects. But let’s go way back, because I feel like you’ve been around a while and done a lot of things, and yet people still don’t really know your story. Does that seem fair?

Sure, yeah.

So, you grew up in California and you went to chainsaw sculpting school, which still fascinates the heck out of me. And then you taught yourself guitar and got into music. How does any of that make sense? Explain it to me. How did you get into chainsaw sculpting as a craft?

I don’t know how it makes sense. It probably doesn’t make sense. [Laughs] I think that’s more of an answer. But I’ve definitely gone toward what I feel interested in at any moment, more so than having an idea of what I want to do and taking the steps necessary to get there. I think I get excited by a lot of different realms of creativity, and the first thing that excited me was chainsaw sculpture. When I was 17, I saw a little poster on a tree that said “Chainsaw Sculpture Apprenticeship,” and I didn’t have anything else I wanted to do and I didn’t know what I would study in college if I went, and so I just moved up there and did that for four years.

…

Two of the characteristics I always think about with your art are beauty and gentleness. I don’t remember what had happened one day, but I texted you, and I was like, “I’m listening to your record because it’s all I can bear.” Something had gone on in the world that was horrible — I don’t remember if it was one of the various shootings … something had happened. Can we talk about the importance of having those things in our lives, beauty and gentleness? Because I think, as I get older, now, and even in the past year or so — I wonder why — those things are really, really important to me. What do they mean to you?

I totally agree with that, that they are important. The first thing I think of, when you say beauty and gentleness, is nature. I think, especially right now, when we’re all on our phones all day or on computers, and everything is so instantaneous, and there’s an aggressiveness to everything, I think it’s more and more important to have that, doing things for the sake of beauty, or having a gentle approach of letting something unfold in a really organic way, rather than saying, “I want to do this, and this is the step to do this.” I think, as the nature of the world right now, and media, and how we get information, and how aggressive that information is, how chosen that information is, filtered to be more dramatic or to affect you in three seconds, rather than a slow unfolding of something, I think it’s more and more important to be [gentle].

And it’s a conscious choice, because I feel like the natural response or reaction to that aggression would be to harden up. So, it feels like a conscious choice to soften. I’ve been experiencing it in a very tangible way over the past few months, of settling into my house and painting things, with paint colors, and bedding, and art. All of those things have become really, really important to me. I find myself being drawn to softer things than I ever have in my life. That’s an interesting observation that perhaps it is in response to this edginess and aggression that’s going on in the world. I just thought I was getting old or something, but I like your explanation better!

I think you’re right, though, that the natural response, as things are getting harder and harder, is to toughen up, but again, with nature, you see that there’s a natural balance that’s created. At a certain point, you can’t toughen up without vanishing.

Without breaking.

Yeah, exactly. The strength of a wildflower versus the strength of a steel rod.

There’s creating beauty, intentionally surrounding yourself, but the other part of it is finding the beauty in things that others might dismiss, whether it’s a conversation or a dream or a piece of wood, a graveyard — because your record is called Wildflowers in the Graveyard. Is that something you’re constantly on that frequency of seeking out the beauty in places where it might not otherwise be found?

I don’t know, consciously, if I’m trying to find those things, but I’m definitely drawn to them. It’s easy to get really wrapped up, and I definitely get wrapped up in the business of things, the loudness of things. For me, going into nature or sitting quietly or playing piano for a couple hours and losing myself in it, little things like that, are what keep me attuned to that frequency.

One of my friends is a tracker in South Africa and he always talks about this with tracking. Everything is speaking to you. He talks about trackers, how you go down a path and, if you’re not used to tracking, you’ll be like, “Oh, there’s a clearing over here and there are some footprints.” But as you get more and more attuned to what tracking is, you’ll say, “Oh, there’s a little bit of mud on this branch that an animal has come by in the last few hours. Or there’s a bird call that happens when the monkeys are out” or whatever. But it’s finer and finer tunings. I guess the quieter you can find [yourself] in life, the more you start seeing these beautiful things that are always there.


Watch all the episodes on YouTube, or download and subscribe to the Hangin’ & Sangin’ podcast and other BGS programs every week via iTunes, Spotify, Podbean, or your favorite podcast platform.

Hangin’ & Sangin’: Valerie June

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From the Bluegrass Situation and WMOT Roots Radio, it’s Hangin’ & Sangin’ with your host, BGS editor Kelly McCartney. Every week Hangin’ & Sangin’ offers up casual conversation and acoustic performances by some of your favorite roots artists. From bluegrass to folk, country, blues, and Americana, we stand at the intersection of modern roots music and old time traditions bringing you roots culture — redefined.

With me today in the Writers’ Rooms at the Hutton … Valerie June. I’m so happy you’re here!

Me, too!

It has taken me so long to get you here, and here we are!

Finally! I’m glad to be here. I’m glad to be in Tennessee. I got in the car last night — I rent a car when I come to Nashville to get around, and I don’t drive very much — so I got in there, rolled down the windows, and I was like, “Tennessee air! Yes!” It’s so fresh!

It’s got that old home smell.

It does. It really does! It was an emotional moment. Every moment’s almost emotional with me, though. [Laughs]

Actually, that is a good start. I want to know: What were you like as a kid? Have you always been a faerie? Have you always been this mystical, magical creature?

[Laughs] I’ve always been visited by them, so yeah! And following rainbows, ever since that show Reading Rainbow! [Laughs]

Were you super precocious and just in another world? Was that your childhood?

I enjoy learning about other worlds. I guess that started with being raised in the country and nature between Jackson and Humboldt, Tennessee. Also learning about the spiritual world, when I was going to church, so that world. We learn a lot about this world, but what about the other worlds, as well, that help make this world?

Yes! That makes everything else come into focus for me, in regard to you. I feel like your music, actually a lot of Black roots music, is dancing on this line between the mystical and the mundane, with feet on the ground but hands toward the heavens, right — almost necessarily?

I think it can, generally, a lot of it. But it feels to me like, in America, a lot of American Black music is based out of spirituality and the church anyway. Black roots music is the root of music of all genres, in a lot of ways. I think about somebody like Sister Rosetta Tharpe and how she is the rock ‘n’ roll godmother, but she started in the church! So it’s really interesting. Everybody I love — of course, Aretha Franklin started there — so many people started there. It’s an interesting thing to think about. I used to think about it a lot. Now I’m on the other side where I am hanging out with the faeries a little bit more. [Laughs]

The banjo, to me, is almost the physical representation of that line, as well, because it’s earthy and yet it can sound otherworldly.

Yeah, it can. It really can. It’s a dreamy instrument to me.

Does it take you to other places? Do you get in a little bit of a trance with it sometimes?

I get in a trance. I would say that the biggest places it takes me are places kindred with, I don’t know, I feel so connected to African roots, when I listen to people like Fela Kuti or Ali Farka Touré. The same kind of twanginess that can happen with a banjo, that translation is so easy for me to think that this came from that, and that came from this, and how they’re all married and dancing in the same pot.

…

I read an interview with you in which you listed a bunch of heroes, musical and otherwise, everyone from Dolly Parton and Joanna Newsom to Kahlil Gibran and Wendell Berry and Frida Kahlo. I love that wide spectrum. We share a lot of the same inspirations. Do you feel like it’s important to pull from a pool that’s both wide and deep when it comes to inspiration and information?

I think the most important thing that I feel is that each individual must do everything, every day to go further into learning who they are. If that means to pull from many things, do that. But for some people, theirs is a very concentrated effort, and it is mastering one thing. I think that’s to be respected, as well as people who are ADD with their attention, of art, and music, and food, and everything! I’m a little bit like that. But there are others where you can just know that they’re just focused, like needlepoint, such a sharp focus on one craft, and how beautiful that is. So I think it’s always an individual diving deeper and deeper within themselves.

I think things that we see in the physical world, they first manifest in an invisible world. So that world is kind of more important in a lot of ways, and it takes time for things that are happening in the invisible world to form into the physical. So, that is an order of time. But if you have this magical place and it’s telling you to constantly focus on just being the best purist of folk music, do that! If it’s telling you you’re drawn to this and that, do that!

Whatever your own compass is, you must constantly be listening to that and constantly saying, “Okay, where is it today?” … Every soul that’s born has a purpose, and every soul has a responsibility to listen to only one voice — that inner voice inside of them — and be constantly checking it and listening to it. Because, when you look out at the world, from the moment you wake up and open your eyes, it’s gonna tell you something else. As a baby, when you’re really little, you know why you came. But then as you get older, things start to shape in different ways. You get pushed and pulled, and pushed down.

I was talking to one of my poet friends about it a few days ago — the choice to constantly follow your light. She kept using the word “practice.” She said, “It’s practice. You’ve got to practice. Every single day is practice.” And I was just like, “I don’t want to hear it! I don’t want to practice. I just want to be here!” [Laughs]

The diligence is exhausting, for sure. Yet, I’m with you: There’s no other way to be, I don’t think. I think about representation a lot, representation in the world, and for a lot of us, our images aren’t reflected back to us in the media or whatever. I interviewed Rhiannon Giddens a few months ago, and one of the ideas I posited was that white men, in particular, have a luxury of mediocrity, because the world is built for them. The world reflects their image back to them in all sorts of positive ways, that people like you and I don’t have. So they don’t have to try as hard. So I wonder if that plays a part for some people not even knowing that they have their voice or their light. They just assume the world is there for them and they don’t have to try.

Well, when you’re working in the invisible realm, which is where things occur first, and that’s your most powerful place, and you are truly working there, then everything that you see in the physical [realm] is an illusion. What I’m telling you is that, everything you said is true and it does exist. But where do you get the food to wake up in that kind of world and still shine? That is where practice comes in, and it goes into moving the real world, which is not something you can see — it’s something you’ve got to trust. And every day believing with full force that that flower that you see there, is gonna manifest here, and that there will be beauty and balance. I don’t necessarily think the goal is changing the world that’s out there. But once you start to change you, then things around you start shifting, and slowly it changes.

It ripples.

Like the Grateful Dead song — “ripple in still water.” I love that! I love it! And [the change] is so slow.

Yesterday I was at LaGuardia Airport, and the magazine covers right there, I was like, “Oh, let me look at the clothes on the magazine covers,” because I love clothes. It was beautiful. There were white women. There were Black women. There were Indian women. I was like, “I’m gonna take the change.” I’m gonna take the change where I can get it. Where I can get it and when I see it, I’m gonna honor that and give some light to that, and say, “Yes, thank you.” That’s what I want to see — multi-races, multi-ages, multi-sizes, that’s what I want to see. What do you want to see? It is really practicing the change you wish to see versus continuing to say, “Oh, it’s the white man’s world and this is the way it is.” No! We’re moving forward. We’re creating something beautiful.

Watch all the episodes on YouTube, or download and subscribe to the Hangin’ & Sangin’ podcast and other BGS programs every week via iTunes, Spotify, Podbean, or your favorite podcast platform.

Hangin’ & Sangin’: Béla Fleck & Abigail Washburn

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From the Bluegrass Situation and WMOT Roots Radio, it’s Hangin’ & Sangin’ with your host, BGS editor Kelly McCartney. Every week Hangin’ & Sangin’ offers up casual conversation and acoustic performances by some of your favorite roots artists. From bluegrass to folk, country, blues, and Americana, we stand at the intersection of modern roots music and old time traditions bringing you roots culture — redefined.

With me today in the Writers’ Rooms at the Hutton … Béla Fleck and Abigail Washburn. Welcome, you guys!

Both: Hi!

Echo in the Valley, the latest duo release. It’s your second. The first one, it did okay for you. You know, you got a Grammy, whatever. My real question, what’s the body count on this record?

Abigail Washburn: How many people have died in the making of the record?

No, on the record, how many people died? Because the last one had a body count.

Béla Fleck: That’s true, and we’ve moved away from that sort of thing on the new record. And we’re talking about the murder ballads, of course! [Laughs] For anybody out there who’s really getting uncomfortable. Yeah, we didn’t go so much into the murder ballads. Though, to tell you the truth, the one song that Abby wrote, “Shotgun Blues,” it sounds terrible, but nobody actually gets hurt in it. It’s actually a very sweet situation.

I’m not sure I believe that.

BF: It’s all about a girl who’s giving a guy a good talkin’ to.

AW: At the end of a shotgun.

BF: At the end of a shotgun, but no actual creeps get knocked off in the song. But we decided to stop doing it presently anyway, just because of the current horrible things that have been happening in our country, and just to give that stuff a bit of a rest.

AW: Because it was really supposed to be kind of humorous in a way, you know.

BF: Yeah, it was a joke.

AW: I mean it was a serious response to the fact that it’s usually women who die in murder ballads. So it had a serious intention, which was to expose that and take the power back in a funny way. But right now it doesn’t feel like shotguns are funny.

That’s true.

AW: So we had trouble continuing to play that song. Which is good, anyway, because there’s all this other material on this record that we’re eager to share with you.

BF: I was thinking we could rewrite the song a bit and make it be about a slingshot, about a girl holding a slingshot on this creep and just stay there until he gets his crap together, and if he doesn’t, oh boy, he’s gonna get zonked, right in the left eyeball.

AW: That’s creative honey. We’ll work on that.

…

I’m a big fan of Krista Tippett’s and On Being, and your episode is one of my very favorites.

BF: Thank you.

The way you guys think and talk about the banjo and the history of the banjo and what that means to you, and how you carry that forward and hold that in your music — its power, its potential, all of those things — it’s just remarkable to me. It was very moving to hear you talk about it. If you had to sum up what the banjo means to you in a few words, what would it be?

BF: Well, I’ll start and you just think about something better to say than what I’m gonna say.

AW: I usually do. [Laughs]

BF: Yes, she actually does. But for me, I just love the banjo, so of course, if you love something, you look for all of the cool things about it and the things that you identify with. It’s kind of justifying a life of pursuing something you really dig. And because you spend so much time around it, you learn those things that really make it special. So I know that there are a lot of other wonderful things in the world besides the banjo, but for me, making the banjo the most important thing in my life, until I met Abby and until we had kids, and that changed the balance …

Only just a little, though. [Laughs]

BF: Yeah, it goes back and forth. But then you learn the story of the banjo, and it becomes a very noble story. You can see the history of mankind through this instrument. It’s just powerful. There are so many stories in this thing — from African roots, and even before Africa, probably in Mesopotamia, and then coming here and being this hybrid instrument that crosses between Black and white society and, eventually, crosses over completely to white society, to the point where Black folks, a lot of folks don’t even really realize the banjo came from their heritage anymore. It’s kind of confusing. So I don’t know, I love history anyway. I’m a history buff. I love reading history books, and I read a lot of books about American history, and then I ended up sort of in the middle of it falling in love with this instrument. Now it’s time for Abby to say something much better.

AW: [Laughs]

Whatcha got, Washburn?

BF: Lay it on us!

AW: I completely agree with Béla, as to all the aspects of how it’s intellectually enlightening to learn through the banjo — its history and its path and its journey through the world, and especially in American society. For me, a lot of music is very much about spirit and spirituality, and what I mean by that is, there’s a spirit that can be channeled and passed along when something like this, an object that does have so much history to it, when I pick it up and start playing it, and I can feel the stories of people before. I know Béla and I both feel that these stories people have been singing about from the past are so important because they expose how humans have been and the patterns of human behavior throughout history — their hopes, their wants, the trials and tribulations they lived through, the joys and the successes of life. It’s just so helpful to hear those old stories and recognize that humans are still basically the same. There’s comfort in that, but there’s also a calling.

And so the spirit of the banjo, its heritage, and the voices that come to me through it teach me that there’s a lot to retain and preserve from our history and our roots, but there’s also a lot to be thought about, in terms of the potential of humans to transform and change. And there are ways we really need to do that. There are mistakes and sufferings we impose on each other that the old stories tell us about — like old murder ballads is a very obvious one. Protest songs, inspirational songs … like we do a version of a song called “Come All Ye Coal Miners,” which is a woman named Sarah Ogan Gunning in Appalachia telling the people, “I’ve lost two children to starvation, both my husband and my father died of black lung. This is wrong.” And yet, this is still happening today. So we can sing the same song that was written by her 60 years ago in the mining camps, and it’s still very powerful today, and it can be a catalyst for change. So I believe music is a catalyst for change and for preservation, and all of it’s important.

BF: And also just reminding us of things. Because we make the same mistakes over and over again, as people and as a race. So if you’re cognizant of things that have happened before, you might have a better chance of avoiding some of them.

I just want to throw one weird thing out there: It just sort of struck me that the banjo was rejected by Black people because it too much embodied the slavery days. And then later, it was rejected by white people because it too much embodied white Southern culture for a lot of people, and it was put down and made a joke of. So it’s been made a joke of from both angles. It’s very ironic. And then you’ve got people from all over the world … I mean, I come from New York City, what am I doing playing the banjo? But you know, there is a lot of banjo playing from the 1800s on in New York City. So anyway, that’s my last thing to throw in on that subject.

AW: I’m just gonna dovetail on what you’re saying. It feels like a powerful time right now. There’s a lot of polarity, lots of energy going in different directions, divisiveness, people sensationalizing emotion into reality. So it feels like a time when there can be a very transformative impact from things in culture, like music. And it does feel like a new day for the banjo. And that’s global, but also very connected to roots and to our local existence, too. And I think it’s the perfect device to channel what we need, which is preservation of what’s beautiful, what’s meaningful, what defines us, and the power to change what happens in the future.

Watch all the episodes on YouTube, or download and subscribe to the Hangin’ & Sangin’ podcast and other BGS programs every week via iTunes, Spotify, Podbean, or your favorite podcast platform.

Hangin’ & Sangin’: Grant-Lee Phillips

Posted on by Editor

From the Bluegrass Situation and WMOT Roots Radio, it’s Hangin’ & Sangin’ with your host, BGS editor Kelly McCartney. Every week Hangin’ & Sangin’ offers up casual conversation and acoustic performances by some of your favorite roots artists. From bluegrass to folk, country, blues, and Americana, we stand at the intersection of modern roots music and old time traditions bringing you roots culture — redefined.

With me today in the Writers’ Rooms at the Hutton … Grant-Lee Phillips!

Hey, how ya doin’?

Hey, welcome!

Good to be here! This is a nice little cozy shack you got here.

 

…

You’ve got a brand new record, Widdershins.

Yeah, out a week now.

Tell me if I’m getting this right: To me, this record is you reflecting back your experience of the current sociopolitical times in song form.

That’s pretty close, yeah. Sociopathic political maelstrom. [Laughs] Yeah, that’s it. This album was written pretty quickly — maybe November of 2016 into the early month of January 2017. Really encapsulates that time period especially.

Yeah, it just kind of barreled out of you.

Yeah, I mean sometimes I take my time, but sometimes you have to just get out of the way.

Well, the album opens with “Walk in Circles” and, in that tune, you sort of tick off all the people you’d rather … not make them mad, but …

Maybe you’re right, though, unintentional double entendre. [Laughs]

[Laughs] I’m sometimes smarter than I know! But you sort of list all these people that you’d rather be hangin’ with than the “righteous goons” which aren’t actually righteous — they’re self-righteous and greedy.

That’s right, yeah.

And then you proclaim that “You’d rather go down fighting for the water than start another war for oil.” Does that sort of sum up this moment for you, where you are in your life?

I think that’s a big part of it. It’s kind of like we’ve built our house on these sticks on the side of a hill and now the earth is shaking, and we ask ourselves “How do we deal with this? Do we add more sticks? Or maybe we have to rethink a whole lot of things in our life,” you know? Yeah, that’s the idea. I’d rather side with nature and those who move in accordance with nature. Maybe they walk counter-clockwise. Sometimes some of the old ways have their wisdom.

Oh, more often than not.

Yeah, when folks had no choice but to live in accordance with the earth and the stars and the animals.

…

There was an article circulating last year about how you can’t teach empathy. That’s something that you kind of have to have. And it seems like there’s a whole population of people who just don’t have that in them, and I don’t know how you teach somebody to care?

I’m not certain. I’ve seen such ugliness in the last week or so, in the wake of this horrible tragedy in Florida, and the ideas that have been floated out there, trying to take the wind out of the sails of these kids who have been through hell. And that’s a hard thing to understand, really, where one would come from. But I don’t know. I suspect that a lot of times, if we could sit down face-to-face, maybe we would have a different kind of discourse than we do online, where we’re just sort of hurling these Molotov cocktails at one another.

With some level of anonymity.

Right, we can run back and Google and get our stats together, and hurl another one.

…

You mentioned the shooting in Florida, and I do feel like this all-too-common experience that we’re having lately … your song “Totally You Gunslinger,” my interpretation of that song is you shining a light on what’s underneath someone’s need to be armed, whether it’s an ICE agent with a Rambo complex or a teen with social anxiety or whatever it is. And maybe I’m reading too much into it, but I’m gonna give you credit for this. I do feel that what’s underneath that is the toxic masculinity idea that is at the core of the violence, whether it’s rape culture or gun culture or whatever.

Yeah, I think you’re hitting it on the head there. Maybe this is a symptom of a culture where people feel fearful and powerless, you know? Where maybe your masculinity itself isn’t enough, you know?

Or what your idea of masculinity is.

Yeah, all of that. And these things are so easily exploited — our fear of the other, where we’re turned against one another so easily. We find ourselves scapegoating the immigrant or some branch of government, maybe they’re to blame. We’re always looking for the blame.

…

Do you feel like it’s enough to simply shine a light on those darker corners? Do we need to transform them, even a matter of degrees, and can a song do that?

I think what the role of a song is and the role of a songwriter, it’s like a tea kettle. When the conditions are such where the water comes to a rolling boil, and things are really intensified, then we whistle, we sing. We’re a symptom of that. “Wake up, you’ve got a fire on the stove!” [Laughs] But sometimes it’s the kind of thing where it will play its role in affecting change. I don’t think by itself it can. It’s just part of the human mechanism, you know? Shout out, sing out.

And serve as a connecting point.

Yeah, that’s right. I would hope that you would listen to some of these songs and maybe you see yourself or hear your own questions. You don’t feel so alone, maybe, that you’re the only person who has these crazy thoughts. There’s two of us. [Laughs]

One of the things that I think is a major part of this record, both in the writing and the making of it, is being fully present, in and to the moment, right? Do you feel like part of what we’re being tasked with right now is being fully present to history unfolding in a bigger way than we’re used to? A much more dangerous way?

More dangerous?

Well, they’re perilous times right now. I read that you were saying this [era], to you, echoes the early ‘90s and that time — in your career but also in the world. There was a war going on, and all sorts of stuff.

I think for me maybe the age I was — I was in my later 20s then — and waking up to, kind of late really, everything that was going on and wanting to express it and make sense of it. That’s the stuff that was on my mind more than anything. There have been artists that have really inspired me for years — Billy Bragg, for instance, R.E.M., as well — artists who can talk about the moment but also reflect the feeling of that moment, as well. It’s not a diatribe. It’s presenting this whole basket of parts that you can put together yourself.

I feel like you’ve done that with this record.

That’s what I’m hoping for.

Watch all the episodes on YouTube, or download and subscribe to the Hangin’ & Sangin’ podcast and other BGS programs every week via iTunes, Spotify, Podbean, or your favorite podcast platform.

Hangin’ & Sangin’: Ani DiFranco

Posted on by Editor

From the Bluegrass Situation and WMOT Roots Radio, it’s Hangin’ & Sangin’ with your host, BGS editor Kelly McCartney. Every week Hangin’ & Sangin’ offers up casual conversation and acoustic performances by some of your favorite roots artists. From bluegrass to folk, country, blues, and Americana, we stand at the intersection of modern roots music and old time traditions bringing you roots culture — redefined.

With me today in the Writers’ Rooms at the Hutton … Ani DiFranco.

Hello!

Hello! So glad you’re here.

Nice to be here.

…

Your latest record, Binary … I want to get granular on some of the themes because you have recurring themes going on here. And I love your brain because your music makes me think and feel so much about the world around me. So let’s get into that.

Alright!

Connection with each other, with nature, with life in every possible manifestation… do you feel like advances in technology have helped or hindered all of that?

Yes. [Laughs]

[Laughs] Okay.

Yeah. I feel all of that and more. Yeah, see, this brings us right to my ongoing meditation of late in my life which is that everything is binary. And, by that, I mean not either/or. I mean both. Always. All the time. Everything is made of relationship. That’s my new way of looking at stuff. Ones and zeros … it brings us closer together. It increases our information. And, yet, it separates us and isolates us and makes us less conscious through that separation and isolation. So, it’s all happening.

Do you think it just enhances what was already there? So, like, if you’re, prone to connection, it enhances that; but if you’re someone who is prone to isolation, it enhances that. Potentially?

Possibly. Yeah. I don’t know. I’ll pontificate with you all day. Let’s go!

Yeah!

Seriously, who knows? I mean, it seems like we are being pushed to recognize that it does bring out something that is very dark, something that is latent, in terms of that disconnection — that sort of road rage that happens between two metal boxes that doesn’t happen between two faces.

When you’re up in someone’s countenance …

Conversing with their heart! BAM! [Laughs] Yeah. I think it has a propensity to draw that out of us. So I think there’s a danger in it. There really is. Of course. Anything that powerful of a tool is going to be dangerous.

Yeah. I’m assuming you’re familiar with Brené Brown’s work to a certain extent …

Yeah. Yeah.

That’s one of her ideas, that you can’t hate close up, so get close up with people.

Yeah. Get to know your neighbor who’s too loud.

If that’s what it takes.

Totally. Mr. Rogers. He rocked that stuff back in the day.

…

Which points to the premise of “Pacifist’s Lament”… which is, who among us is ready and willing to step fully onto the high road? You have to have a bigger vision and a lot of humility to know that winning at all costs isn’t winning at all. So, how do we get there?

Yeah. Yeah. This competitive advancement of the species. Yeah, maybe, to some degree. But, really, cooperating is how we succeed.

I guess that song, “Pacifist’s Lament,” comes right out of that moment of recognition when I’m sitting there watching the NRA lady say whatever the talking points are and I’m so full of anger that I just want to shout at her. Then I remember when that kid shot up that church in South Carolina and the families of the victims stood before him and spoke to him like a human being, said, “I forgive you.” They said just the most humbling solution to the world’s problems. They’re living and breathing and showing us the way. And I have so far to go, myself.

But I think, as a society, we’ve slipped so far from this idea. We can’t dismiss each other. We just can never give up on each other. We have to reach out and build bridges over even the most turbulent waters. So, I mean, it’s a daily struggle for me as much as anybody.

The idea in “Telepathic” of putting yourself in someone else’s shoes, that sort of deep empathy of trying to imagine what burdens they’re carrying, what fears they’re facing … is that something you do?

Yeah. And you don’t have to think about it at all. You just feel it. You just feel it in a moment sometimes with people. All the distance that can lie between you and someone on the other side of the counter. All of the walls. All of the veils. I guess, yeah, connected to what we’re talking about, I just want it to all go away. I want us to all be family, but we can’t because of so much in society and history. It’s that searching around — and not even intentionally — just when you feel what someone else feels, it can be overwhelming.

Watch all the episodes on YouTube, or download and subscribe to the Hangin’ & Sangin’ podcast and other BGS programs every week via iTunes, Spotify, Podbean, or your favorite podcast platform.

Hangin’ & Sangin’: Lilly Hiatt

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From the Bluegrass Situation and WMOT Roots Radio, it’s Hangin’ & Sangin’ with your host, BGS editor Kelly McCartney. Every week Hangin’ & Sangin’ offers up casual conversation and acoustic performances by some of your favorite roots artists. From bluegrass to folk, country, blues, and Americana, we stand at the intersection of modern roots music and old time traditions bringing you roots culture — redefined.

With me today at Hillbilly Central, Lilly Hiatt! Welcome!

Thank you!

 

Okay, Trinity Lane, your record, came out last summer. Let’s talk about songwriting, because I feel like this record is songwriting as a way to understand yourself, right? The record’s kind of overflowing with that.

Yes, it is that, definitely. [Laughs]

How much easier is it for you to dissect and process whatever you’re going through with writing versus talking it out or some other form?

Well, I think both are useful, but sometimes with writing — I think because you’re alone, or I’m alone when I write — sometimes things will come out that maybe are a little buried down or you didn’t know were there, and you’re like, “Hmm, alright!” And so that’s kind of the fun part about that. It’s kind of like the guard is really down there.

How often does something come through that you didn’t even necessarily know was there and then, afterward, you’re like, “Oh, huh, okay, that’s how I feel about that!”

Yeah, I mean that happens a lot! It happened the other day, when I was playing around, and sometimes it’s a little startling, but usually it’s really relieving, like “Oh, gosh!” It happens a lot.

I love it, sometimes when I’ve got stuff swirling around — this just happened recently, too — the only way I can think to express it is to just start writing it in a weird free-form poem, whatever kind of thing. The words don’t necessarily even have to make sense if someone else were to read it, but it can express. And then, when you add on a melody, which I don’t do because I’m not a songwriter, then that enhances it that much further because the music can take it in a whole other direction.

Yeah, totally, it’s an exciting thing to do. And I think it’s a useful tool to write things down, for anyone really. Because sometimes you really don’t understand things, when they’re just swirling around in your head, and maybe you don’t understand them on paper, but it’s a document of that moment and how you were perceiving it then. And, if that changes later, it may, but it’s interesting.

Before we started the show we were talking about our mutual friend Amanda Shires. She recently challenged me — she owes me breakfast, by the way — she uses an app called Flowstate, wherein you set a timer for either five or 10 minutes or whatever, and you just write. And if you stop for five seconds before your time ends, it erases everything you did. So you have to keep going!

You just go! That’s cool!

The first time I did it, I had about nine seconds left out of the whole thing, and I saw a typo that I wanted to go back and fix, and [it deleted everything], it was just a blank cursor!

And you just lost it! Well, that’s really cool. I’m a big fan of the let-it-flow method, myself. You can always go back and edit, but sometimes what comes out is what needs to. And Amanda’s a cool writer. She is a true writer, and she disciplines herself even though it comes from her heart, and I think there’s a lot to be said for that, too, you know, just taking the time to freestyle! Whatever!

If you had to define what your job is, as a songwriter, what would you say it is, in terms of the parameters or responsibilities?

That’s a good question, and I’ve heard a couple writers who I admire talk about what they think that responsibility is, and I try not to take it too seriously as in “I have a real something to say that you need to hear!” But, I do think, if you have a way with words and you have a strong suit in one way or another, whether that’s painting a picture or being introspective, then maybe there is a service in that, of connecting with people. The things I write about are really mundane, like breakups and stuff that everyone deals with — pretty simple stuff. But if you can just kind of nuance it in a way that strikes a chord with others, it can be powerful, and it’s powerful for me to share that stuff with other people.

Have you figured out ways for yourself to block out the outside opinions and trends and not let them sway you? Just say, “This is my truth and this is what I’m gonna say and how I’m gonna say it”?

Yeah, I have, and I’ve gotten better as I’ve gotten older and more confident in myself. But I mean, still, of course you care what other people think, but I care more about making music that I feel good about … whatever that means. So it’s not to pander to any one way or another or any group. You know, sometimes you have to tune it out. And nobody really expects that much from you! I think we get more in our heads, it’s like, “Just write stuff!” Whatever! [Laughs]

If it lands, it lands!

Yeah, exactly. It’s fulfilling to write things.

…

Let’s get a little granular on your song “Different, I Guess,” because it’s a fascinating piece to me, for a number of reasons, and Amanda, among others, say it’s one of the best songs they’ve ever heard.

That’s nice.

But structurally on that, it starts out just kind of cruising along, and then it sort of flails a little bit, and then it goes back. On a scale of 1-10, how much do rules matter to you?

They don’t really.

Okay, so on a scale of 0-10 … [Laughs]

I mean, maybe we’ll give them a 1 or 2. Sometimes I’m like, “Hmm, you can’t do that,” but then I’m like, “Oh yes, you can!” And that song was actually kind of the beginning of a foray into … it’s funny because I think somewhere in the back of my head I followed, not one particular structure, but I disciplined myself with getting a good form for a song. And I was like, “You can do whatever you want in that song, say whatever you want!”

You don’t have to have a chorus, you don’t have to have a bridge …

Yeah, exactly! Because I think of some of my favorite songs, and they don’t have those things. They’re not “perfect” — whatever that means. So that one was fun. It just kind of spilled out, and I was like, “I’m not changing anything!” [Laughs]

“Take that, world!” Lyrically, too, it’s so raw and real, but it’s still painted with poetry. I love the line, “I don’t have to have you to know what this is.”

Thank you.

Because, in the end, it’s about how we’re responding to something. It’s often not about “that” — whether it’s a person or a situation or whatever. It’s what’s going on inside of us. So “that” doesn’t even have to be there for the work to be going on [inside of us].

It’s true. I think, when we love things, we want to possess them a lot of the time.

Funny that, eh?

It is funny! Ultimately, it’s not how that works, you know? But I don’t know. [Laughs] Every love is different!

And the other line, “No one’s really been at their best” … One of my life’s mottos for the past few years has been trying to be my best in any given moment so that I don’t have to have remorse or regret, or second-guess myself if I’d made the best choice. And what’s funny is that that is sort of echoed in that, too, even though you say, “No one’s really been at their best,” that sentiment is still in there and that’s fascinating to me.

Thank you. Well, I appreciate your insight into that song. It’s cool hearing people’s take on things, you know? And yeah, “at your best” … I don’t know! [Laughs]

Which at any given moment is [high or low]. [Laughs]

But I know what you mean, where you just want to know you gave it what you had.

Watch all the episodes on YouTube, or download and subscribe to the Hangin’ & Sangin’ podcast and other BGS programs every week via iTunes, Spotify, Podbean, or your favorite podcast platform.

Hangin’ & Sangin’: John Oates

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From the Bluegrass Situation and WMOT Roots Radio, it’s Hangin’ & Sangin’ with your host, BGS editor Kelly McCartney. Every week Hangin’ & Sangin’ offers up casual conversation and acoustic performances by some of your favorite roots artists. From bluegrass to folk, country, blues, and Americana, we stand at the intersection of modern roots music and old time traditions bringing you roots culture — redefined.

With me today at Hillbilly Central, John Oates, the one and only!

Pleasure to be here, thank you.

So glad to have you. Your new record, Arkansas, out February 2.

Yes.

Which is …

Coming up soon!

Two weeks!

Yeah, we have a lead track that’s out — the actual title track, “Arkansas,” is out right now, with a video. I’m really excited about the record. It’s been getting a lot of good feedback so far, and I’m very proud of it.

I love that you describe it as “Dixieland, dipped in bluegrass and salted with Delta blues.”

[Laughs] Well, I was forced to come up with a description! But one thing about the record is, there’s an incredible group of musicians playing on this record.

Absolutely.

Sam Bush, Russ Paul, Guthrie Trapp, Josh Day, Steve Mackey, Nat Smith. And I assembled this group of musicians and I knew them all. They’re all buddies, and we’ve played together in various configurations, but I didn’t know what was gonna happen. And when they started to play — and everything was live pretty much on this record — it reminded me of Dixieland, where all these great players [have] these interweaving musical ideas and no one is stepping on anyone, but yet it’s all complimentary. And it’s all like a beautiful chaos, I guess you could call it. And that’s why I said it reminded me of Dixieland, in a way. It’s kind of like bluegrass, Americana, Dixieland, with Delta blues.

Did that collection of players … because I know you did assemble them, you sort of handpicked each one right?

Yeah.

So did the [final product] surpass your dreams of what you thought it could be?

Absolutely, because I had no idea what it was going to be. Actually, the record started out as a tribute to Mississippi John Hurt, and I was going to do a traditional guitar and vocal thing, and just play his songs, because he’s a big hero of mine and I know so many of his songs.

After I cut a few tracks, it was like, “Okay, this is alright, but it’s been done before, and I’ll never do it better than the original.” But I loved the music and I loved the songs themselves and I thought, “Well, I’ve never heard these songs played with a band,” because it’s so associated with that classic guitar and vocal presentation. So one night I just said, “Let me just pull all these guys together,” and honestly I wish I could say it was this concept that I had with my master plan. [Laughs] But it wasn’t! It was just dumb luck and a beautiful thing because [after] the first track we cut, my engineer turned to me and he said, “I don’t know what this is, but it’s cool.” And I said, “Yeah this is good, let’s just keep doing this.” And that’s how it happened, so it was totally organic and it just evolved from the players.

…

So tell me about some of the songs on the record. You’ve got some Jimmie Rodgers, you’ve got some Emmett Miller, some other folks on there, some of your stuff. What’s the key to sort of crafting a new song that fits within that comfortably?

Well, I didn’t know I was gonna have an original song on the record. I took a visit to a place called Wilson, Arkansas, which is about 30 miles northwest of Memphis, just on the other side of the Mississippi River, at one time one of the biggest plantations in America. And I did a show there, and it’s this cool little town that’s being reimagined or reinvented as an arts community. It’s really cool. And the night after the show, we went outside, and the cotton fields were just rolling through the distance. There was the river, and it was very evocative. And it just seemed to crystallize this musical journey that starts, I guess, in New Orleans, really, and just goes up the Mississippi River through the Delta and, by the time it gets to Arkansas, I think it’s kind of the last rural stop on the musical journey northward.

…

It’s so fun to see artists … you’re very far into your career, you’ve had massive success, and then, as a solo artist, you kind of have to start not quite from scratch, but almost from scratch. But you’re still super excited about exploring and experiencing, aren’t you?

Yeah, I am. I think it’s the best time of my life. It really is, for a lot of reasons. I love the music I’m making. I love the friends I’ve made here in Nashville and the community that I’m a part of. But even more so, that I have this incredible career with Daryl Hall and the legacy of music that we’ve made together that provides a foundation and the ability for me to have total creative freedom which, for a lot of artists, that’s what they dream of, you know? I think, if you asked any artist what would be your ultimate dream, it would be that. And I have it. And so, because I have it, I wanna make the most of it. I wanna milk every second out of that experience.

Watch all the episodes on YouTube, or download and subscribe to the Hangin’ & Sangin’ podcast and other BGS programs every week via iTunes, Podbean, or your favorite podcast platform.

Hangin’ & Sangin’: The Lone Bellow

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From the Bluegrass Situation and WMOT Roots Radio, it’s Hangin’ & Sangin’ with your host, BGS editor Kelly McCartney. Every week Hangin’ & Sangin’ offers up casual conversation and acoustic performances by some of your favorite roots artists. From bluegrass to folk, country, blues, and Americana, we stand at the intersection of modern roots music and old time traditions bringing you roots culture — redefined.

With me today at Hillbilly Central, the Lone Bellow!

All: Hello! Hi!

Brian, Zach, Kanene … welcome. So glad to have you guys here. New album, Walk Into a Storm … so good, so good!

Zach Williams: We made it right down the street!

Did you make it at Studio A?

All: Yeah.

Okay. I didn’t know if you’d done it at Studio A or Low Country. So you made it with Dave Cobb? Good job, kind of hard to go wrong with that guy.

Brian Elmquist: Good Cobb.

Kanene Pipkin: The Cobbster.

Yeah, yeah, good stuff.

…

Here’s something I was thinking about as I listened to the record today. I got to “May You Be Well,” which you [Zach] wrote for your daughter, Loretta. But it obviously has a broader call, a broader wish, and it kind of got me wondering … in this particular time that we find ourselves in … how do you guys process things like Vegas or Paris, those shootings, or the singer who was killed last year, or the Manchester bombing? Because I kind of hear it coming through that song, because all of those things are the antithesis of what we’re trying to do with the music, right? So how do you process it and how do you see your role?

KP: Well there’s an Allen Toussaint quote … so we played a show in New York six hours after the Paris attack. I remember, because there was NYPD and law enforcement everywhere, all over the venue. It was the exact same capacity, so it was really bizarre. I remember a bunch of my family members, my siblings, were coming that night, and just thinking about, “What if that happened to us?” And Allen Toussaint had just passed away, and I came across an Allen Toussaint quote that I quoted that night, and it said, “Music also has a role to lift you up. Not to be escapist, but to pull you out of misery.” And to me, that was just the best way you could say it. Because it’s not made to just escape and forget everything, but to me, this is what helps you endure and helps you be lifted out of misery just enough to where you can handle it and you can also address it and not have to wallow, but you can move forward. And I think that’s a really important thing to be able to do with songwriting or with just being someone who likes to listen to music. It’s a really important processing tool.

Because you’re either providing that stability, as the writer, or you’re reaching for it, as the listener. But either way, you’re making a connection with someone else, if not a number [of people]. I go through this, it’s like, every time something like that happens, I turn to music to lift me up, but then there are the days where it’s just like, “Ugh — it just feels so pointless!” You know? It’s like “Ugh, I’m just doing music!” but then I’m like, “No, I’m doing music. It has its role.”

BE: We were in Toronto the day we were all dealing with Vegas and, to add to what you were saying, you also turn to humanity. Like we told [our crowd], “Today sucks.” I think we started the concert off like that. And they lifted us out of it, and we were with each other, and it just really shows you that it happens to everybody. All of humanity is trying to come around each other. They want the best for each other.

ZW: I would even venture to say, like when you were saying there are the listeners who are reaching for it and then us that are providing it, in my particular case, I would say that I’m reaching for it. Because, when we write a song, we don’t know how it’s gonna be received in a year when it’s released or when we start playing it. We don’t know what stories those songs are going to connect with with strangers that we’ve never met.

Or what’s gonna be happening in the world when it does come out.

BE: I don’t think we have the ego to say that we could write a song and save the world. [Laughs]

KP: [Sings] “We are the wooorld” …

ZW: So, that night, we started singing “May You Be Well,” and they started singing it, kind of to each other, and then we were all singing it together. And we were all very much aware of everything that was going on. We don’t have the answers, and they don’t have the answers, but we can all sit in that space together and just be like, you know, this is a stop sign. Writing music or making art is a stop sign because it makes you just pause and think, and also listening to or looking at art is also a stop sign. So, I’ve really been grateful to be a part of those experiences. I was worried the night of Toronto, like what is this gonna be like?

Watch all the episodes on YouTube, or download and subscribe to the Hangin’ & Sangin’ podcast and other BGS programs every week via iTunes, Podbean, or your favorite podcast platform.

Photo credit: Joshua Black Wilkins

Hangin’ & Sangin’: Travis Meadows

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From the Bluegrass Situation and WMOT Roots Radio, it’s Hangin’ & Sangin’ with your host, BGS editor Kelly McCartney. Every week Hangin’ & Sangin’ offers up casual conversation and acoustic performances by some of your favorite roots artists. From bluegrass to folk, country, blues, and Americana, we stand at the intersection of modern roots music and old time traditions bringing you roots culture — redefined.

With me today at Hillbilly Central, Travis Meadows. Welcome.

Glad to be here.

So happy you’re here. You have a new record, First Cigarette.

Yes, ma’am.

It’s a beauty, man. It really is.

I’m pretty excited about it!
…

I feel like … “if onlys” are a big part of this record, or the disposing thereof — the discarding of excuses of not being right here, right now. That’s in the title track and in a bunch of the other songs. So, the balancing act between accepting where you are and who you are, and still striving to be better — how do you see that and how do you achieve that?

Oh, man! I didn’t realize it was gonna get so deep in this interview.

Oh, yeah, man. [Laughs]

You know, I don’t know. My whole life these days is kind of in 24-hour increments. I can’t get too locked into the past because I can’t do anything about that, and I can’t do anything about tomorrow, so my whole life is just kind of centering around “right now.” And that kind of reflects itself in my writing, you know what I mean?

Trying to give your best to this moment.

To this moment, yeah! And I will say that, on this record, I did something that I had not done on the previous records, and that was taking into consideration the audience listening. It’s such an unusual thing that is happening in my life, but I didn’t know that people were gonna gravitate to these songs and that I was actually gonna get invited to play places … But then I started [thinking], you know, “If I were in the audience and I was listening to one wrist-slitter after another, I wouldn’t like this! It’s a little depressing.”

And so, on this record, I was very adamant about putting some breathers in there, some levity, just a chance to enjoy music and not have to think as much as you were on the previous songs. You know what I mean? Which, in some ways, is, I feel like, a little bit of a sign of personal growth, because the first two records were just completely self-absorbent, self-indulgent records. I was just writing songs for me. And I still write songs for me, but I was thinking, “If I were in the audience, I would want something fast every now and then. I’d want a little breathing time.”

But I think, even if you are writing for you, if you’re writing with truth, it’s gonna resonate with people.

I think so.

And I think about, on this record, a song like “Better Boat.” That’s a song that I resonate with and I think probably a lot of people would — anyone who’s trying to better themselves by going deeper into their relationships. That’s what that is to me, you know?

Yeah, absolutely.

But that wasn’t always how you looked at life was it? Through that lens?

No, and regrettably I can still be quite pessimistic. You know, I’m just a dark son of a gun! But I’m getting better about it, and I’m embracing the moment more and more. I’ve actually — I cannot believe I’m about to say this — but I’ve actually, even in the past week with the reaction to the record where I ought to be jumping up and down and just beside myself, I’m kind of freaking out. People cannot like this this much! That’s my brain. And I have to [think], “They keep showing up to the shows.” So it’s humbling and it’s challenging and, heck, if they’re gonna keep showing up, I’m gonna keep showing up. And that’s kind of where I’m at.

Sometimes, I think, for those of us who have had troubled or dark or broken lives — which, technically, is everybody …

Pretty much.

Some more than others. But I think joy is one of the hardest things to embrace, right?

I went through a preacher phase for a while. It’s so funny because I’ve gone through these little chapters of my life. I almost completely change. I look at those chapters like it was somebody else. … One or two [of my long-time friends] said, “I don’t know what you were doing in the preaching days, but you’re preaching now.” And that was way too much responsibility for me. … I’m just singing my songs. That’s enough for me.

But it did make me look at, “What is it that I am doing?” And I think what it is, with me being this vulnerable and telling this much truth about myself, I think I’m giving people permission to be okay with themselves — who they are, where they are, scars and all. I think we have this kind of messed up idea, “Well, if I could marry this person, or if I had this much money, or if I was doing this job instead of this one, things would be better.” And I think the secret is, if I’ve stumbled onto anything in these few years that I’ve been kickin’ around, is that the idea of contentment comes from being okay where you’re at right now, which is hard. It’s like a bird that lands on your shoulder and as soon as you look, it’s gone! But those moments where you have that serenity, that calm, that peace.
…

But I think the other thing that you do through your songs is, by digging into your truth and laying it out there for the whole world to see, in all its ragged vulnerability and rawness, you’re giving people the permission to look at their stuff, too. And they’ll be like, “Oh, well, he’s doing that, so maybe it’s okay if I kind of turn the lens inward a little bit.”

Absolutely.

Watch all the episodes on YouTube, or download and subscribe to the Hangin’ & Sangin’ podcast and other BGS programs every week via iTunes, Podbean, or your favorite podcast platform.

Photo credit: Joshua Black Wilkins

Hangin’ & Sangin’: Lee Ann Womack

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From the Bluegrass Situation and WMOT Roots Radio, it’s Hangin’ & Sangin’ with your host, BGS editor Kelly McCartney. Every week Hangin’ & Sangin’ offers up casual conversation and acoustic performances by some of your favorite roots artists. From bluegrass to folk, country, blues, and Americana, we stand at the intersection of modern roots music and old time traditions bringing you roots culture — redefined.

With me today at 21c Museum Hotel in Nashville … Lee Ann Womack!

Yay!

What?! And Lex Price on guitar. Welcome, you guys! Lee Ann Womack in a penthouse suite is the stuff dreams are made of, just generally, but I’m going to melt into a puddle, at some point, when you start singing.

[Laughs] Well, I’m happy to be here.

You have a new record coming out October 27 — The Lonely, the Lonesome, & the Gone. It is 54 minutes of pure flawlessness, and it’s all I want to listen to right now. I’m so glad that I have it ahead of everybody, and I won’t get sick of it. So, congratulations, it’s wonderful.

[Laughs] Thank you! I had fun making it. I’m glad you like it.

…

The first time I listened to this record, my immediate reaction was that it felt like you felt more confident and more comfortable than ever. Not that you sounded in any way bad before, it just felt like … I don’t want to say “you found your voice” because I think that’s always been there. But you’re stepping into it when you want to, you’re hanging back when you need to. Is that because you wrote some of the songs or is it something else, do you think?

I think it’s probably age, I mean experience … not being so worried about what people think. And hopefully the more you do something, the better you get at it, so if you’re singing for years and years and years, hopefully you get better at it. But also, this is probably the first time I made a record where I just really wasn’t worried about a staff of people at a label “getting it” or anything like that. I just did what I wanted to do.

…

Someone called this record your Wrecking Ball.

Ooh, I didn’t know that! I like that.

I’ll tell you who later. But I kind of took that to mean that you have hit your stride now, at this point. You’ve kind of found your sound, which was always in there, but you’ve moved all the other stuff away.

That’s fair. Yeah, that’s good. I mean I recorded all those records for a major label, you know, and they have things that they expect. Also, as the artist, when you sign a contract, you agree to make a certain kind of music, and so without having those constraints, I really have been able to just enjoy myself. Whereas before, I enjoyed little bits and pieces, now I enjoy the entire thing, and it’s nice.

Do you pick and write songs that you know you’re gonna enjoy singing live and will enjoy singing live for years to come, is that part of it?

Yes, definitely. And songs that move me for one reason or another. I don’t worry so much about, “Okay is this gonna move six million people?” Or, “Is this gonna move the promotion staff?” Or, whatever. I just worry that it moves me. And if it moves me, I’m a music lover, then it’s gonna move somebody else.

…

Now, you are absolute royalty within the Americana community.

Aww.

But I also love that the Grammys and the actual country music — the CMAs and stuff like that — are also still recognizing you and still nodding in your direction. So do you feel like that’s kind of the best of all possible scenarios, to be straddling it all and not just one or the other?

I mean it’s nice, very nice, but I have had my hand in each of these areas from the beginning, you know? My very first single was “Never Again, Again” and it had Ricky Skaggs and Sharon White singing the harmony on it. And I’ve been working with Buddy Miller for however long — years and years — and Jim Lauderdale. And, as far as the bluegrass world goes, I love my bluegrass friends.

I know you do.

Yeah, and love the music, love the lifestyle and everything. So yeah, I’ve kind of had my hand in a lot of different places over the years, and that’s kind of just who I am.

But it’s weird that you haven’t always been perceived that way, right? People perceived you in a different way.

And that was frustrating for me because, I mean, you can tell by the way I talk and sing, you know that I’m country. [Laughs]

[Laughs] No way around that!

My favorite singer is George Jones. To me, George Jones is a country singer, but he’s a soul singer, you know? And Ralph Stanley’s a soul singer! If it’s born out of something that’s real rootsy, then I’m gonna love it. And that’s who I am, that’s how I was born I guess.

And that’s the thread running through this record too, you burn down all the walls. It’s hardly strictly country and hardly strictly anything … But that soulfulness and you just pouring yourself into it, that’s the thread, and it’s amazing that, after all these records, that it’s clear that you’re a fan first. That’s coming [through], your love of music and your enjoyment singing. Is that something you have to work at or is that just naturally coming?

No, I don’t have to work at it. If I didn’t sing, I feel like I’d die or something, like it keeps my heart beating or something. I don’t know. But you know what? I don’t have to sing on stage in front of thousands and thousands of people. I can sit down in my living room at home with my guitar and sing, and it still feeds whatever that is. I sing and hum to myself all the time and my daughters are like, “Would you stop doing that?” I’ll be grocery shopping or whatever.

While all the rest of us are like, “Can we come over?”

[Laughs] It’s funny because it’s like I don’t even know I’m doing it.

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Photo credit: Ebru Yildiz