Tag: Pop

Ringo Starr and T Bone Burnett in Conversation

Posted on by Justin Hiltner

On a sunny day in late April, I stood outside an ad hoc interview room at the Sunset Marquis in West Hollywood waiting for my turn to speak to Ringo Starr.

Sporadic laughter boomed through the door as the hazy afternoon light danced on the doorknob hanger. Instead of the usual “Do Not Disturb,” this one simply said, “Peace.” The verbiage, apropos for Ringo, served as one part levity and one part beta-blocker as I prepared to speak to a Beatle.

When the door opened, I was surprised and delighted to come face to face with Phil Rosenthal (of Somebody Feed Phil). The unabashed smile on his face foreshadowed the similar joy I would feel taking the same steps through that door just 25 short minutes later.

And yet another revelation unfolded as I walked in the room to find both Mr. Starr and T Bone Burnett, producer of Ringo’s newest album, Long Long Road. The ensuing discussion covered their relationships with genre, synesthesia, and inevitably bobbed and weaved across the rich musical history of these two icons.

Do I get both of you today?

Ringo Starr: Yes!

Excellent!

T Bone Burnett: Only if you want.

RS: Hi. I’m Ringo.

Ha! Yes. The man of the hour. How are you?

RS: Good. Excellent.

Thank you so much for having me.

RS: Oh, it’s our pleasure.

TB: Her dad is a great songwriter, a great guitar player from Muscle Shoals.

RS: We were just talking to someone else about that today.

Really? You were talking about Muscle Shoals today?

RS: Well, we didn’t actually mention it, but we were talking about the music that, for me, started with Johnny Ray and people like that. I was a teenager, and then it went up to country music, and then I got into blues music, and then I got into pop of the day music.

I love country music. And he’s the country boy [as he points to T Bone Burnett].

That’s a fantastic segue to my first question. So as we mentioned, I grew up in Muscle Shoals, and I had this record player that was a little battery-operated blue Volkswagen bus. Do you remember these?

TB: Yeah, I do!

It would ride around the record, and it had a little speaker in it, and I would lay on the ground, and I’d listen to Abbey Road. But it was also around the same time that the video for “Act Naturally,” the duet with Buck Owens, came out. So, for me, you were very genre-fluid from a very early age. I’m curious about a couple of things genre-wise, and T Bone, please jump in on this too.

TB: Okay, I’ll jump in, and I’ll say that the Beatles probably invented what became known as “country rock.” You know, with “I Don’t Want to Spoil the Party.”

RS: And what were the two that were Carl Perkins?

TB: “Honey Don’t” and “Matchbox.”

RS: “Honey Don’t” was the best line I ever heard.

TB: Yeah, it is a killer title.

RS: “Matchbox” was a blues song, really.

TB: Well, “Matchbox” was an old Blind Lemon Jefferson song.

RS: Yes. The interesting thing is I did those in the ’60s, and we just found a Carl Perkins tune that we’d never heard, and we’ve done it on this record. “I Don’t See Me in Your Eyes Anymore.”

I love it.

RS: It is so beautiful and he was just a cool guy. You know, I was a teenager when I first heard him, and it was like, “Oh yeah!”

T Bone: Yeah, he was cool. He, [Carl], had heard “Matchbox” or his dad had heard it by Blind Lemon Jefferson, but they could only remember a few words of it, so he rewrote it as a rockabilly song.

So you knew of country music when you were growing up, you were aware of it.

RS: I did. I was aware of country music. I loved it because it was emotional, and I was a teenager. That’s what we are at that age.

[Ringo singing:] “ Well the wife is dead and I’m leaving home. I got no money for the jukebox.”

Perfect for teenagers.

When I say the words “country music” to you now, what do you think of? Who or what or how do you think of it?

RS: I still think a lot about the people from yesterday, who I came in with. You’ve got to say Willie. I mean, he’s magical and still out there. Thank you, Willie. And who used to open for Willie?

TB: Waylon?

RS: Waylon! He was great. I have to think back.

TB: Well Hank Williams…

RS: Well, no, Hank was where we came in. And Hank Snow. No one mentions him. He was Canadian. Patsy Cline. There’s too many really.

I was talking to someone the other week and they asked, “What is your all-time favorite record?” I couldn’t answer. There is too much that I love. “Who’s your favorite artist?” I start with Ray Charles. And Stevie, and down that line. But I can’t answer it. We were on TV, and I stopped it. I said, “I just can’t answer.” There are too many in my life to say, “That’s the one.”

Plead the 5th.

Do you ever feel constrained by genre? Or inspired by it? What is your relationship with the idea of it?

RS: I’m a pop-rock music drummer. I’ll play whatever you’re gonna give me. If you want it heavy, I’ll hit the cymbals. Heavy metal has some great acts going down. We would jam sometimes and be that.

TB: Oh, well, I mean, the Beatles invented heavy metal, really.

RS: Yeah. It’s just playing the same shit, but heavier.

TB: “Everybody’s Got Something to Hide Except Me and My Monkey” or “Helter Skelter.”

RS: “Helter Skelter” was a jam. We had no song, nothing, we were just jamming, and then Paul came in with, “Hey! Helter Skelter.” Like “Say It’s Your Birthday,” there was someone in the newspaper who we knew, and it was their birthday, and we were jamming. Paul stepped up again, and we got another song. We were like that. You could jump in, any one of us could jump in. I’ve got odd lines we aren’t gonna talk about on certain tracks.

[A publicist chimes in to say:] “T Bone you have five more minutes before you have to leave and then you’ll go and he’ll stay in.”

RS: And then I’ll go and then you’ll stay in. [Laughter]

Well, let’s go back to the Volkswagen.

RS: Let’s get back to it.

Because I have a little bit of synesthesia, I think.

TB: I have that, too.

RS: What have you got?

TB: I see colors when I hear music.

RS: Oh, great!

So, “Octopus’s Garden” was very purple for me. “Act Naturally” is very orangey gold. I’m curious if you’ve ever experienced anything like that. And if it’s not colors, if there are certain textures that you’re looking for in a song, when you’re casting songs for an album? And T Bone, this question’s for you too, since you have it.

RS: T Bone will give me a lot of songs, and I listen to them and I picked my six at the beginning. There were only three I didn’t use. That’s how we started this. In the end, we were talking in my little studio and I said to him, “How many songs have you got?” And he had nine. It gave me the courage to ask him if he would produce the record. All the songs were not on my mind; we were just hanging out like two guys. But it turned into a fellowship.

TB: Well, I can tell you that the Beatles stuff that first came out was very dark blue, all of it. “Don’t Bother Me” especially was the most dark blue of them. It was interesting that the album cover that first came out over here [in the U.S.] was dark blue. So it all sort of coalesced, I think.

That was one of those blessed moments that happen occasionally on earth, you know? Where everybody heard the same thing at the same time.

Absolutely.

RS: I never saw colors. I mean, I did see colors some days… You know what I mean?

[All laugh]

RS: When I listened, it’s how I felt. A sad song, a happy song, a rock song– some of it will move you, and some of it moved me.

TB: Well, I’d better go. But thank you, great to see you again.

Yeah, you too. Nice to see you again.

[As T Bone got up to leave, his wife entered the room and chatter ensued, but he added before walking out the door:]

TB: By the way, “I Want to Hold Your Hand” was very dark blue.

Well, you know, what’s funny is, I had a synesthesia question for Ringo about you, because I didn’t know you were going to be here. But I was going to say that your musical color and texture is exactly like what you are wearing, to me.

TB: Oh, is that right? That’s wild. Thank you! Nice to see you all.

RS: God Bless, peace and love!

Tell me about what it is like for you working in Nashville? Tell me what it feels like working with those players.

RS: I did have experience in the early ’70s when Pete Drake invited me to come, because we were working on a George Harrison record. You know, we keep talking about the steps we take, the moves we make. And I was there with George, and I’m playing for him and he’d called Pete – I didn’t know Pete. Pete had landed at Heathrow, and the car George was sending broke down, so we sent my car. And then he arrived. “Hey, hoss, I see you like country music.”

“Yeah, yeah, I do. How do you know?”

He said, “All those cassettes in your car.”

And then a few days later, he’s saying, “You should come to Nashville.” And I thought, “I’m not going to Nashville. I’m doing stuff here. I don’t have a month or six weeks to go to Nashville.” He said, “A month? Six weeks? Nashville Skyline took two days.” And I said, “I’m coming.” And I went, and we did the same thing.

On the first day, five songs were picked in the morning. Between us, we listened to them all. Five songs were recorded, and five songs were finished. And the next day, we picked five songs. Anyway, it went on the same way, and it was finished. And it took two days, so that was great.

Well, Ringo, you have one of the finest reputations in the music business.

RS: As a drummer or else?

EM: As a drummer, as a human.

RS: Or as a tall person?

The tallest around.

Just for being so kind to people and emanating peace and love, obviously. And you’ve been such a beacon of that for so many decades. Especially in the last couple of weeks I’ve been thinking a lot about that, after finding out that I was going to talk to you. I was curious, I’m sure it’s mostly innate, but do you ever feel like it’s a responsibility – in terms of how you are in the public, in terms of what songs you’re picking? I’m particularly thinking of “Choose Love.”

RS: I just do my best, you know, to pick the songs that give you some movement, and you say, “Oh, I’d like to sing that.” That’s what I’m with these two country songs with T Bone. I mean, I don’t really do it in a political way, that it says this or that. It’s usually peace and love. If I write it, it’s always peace and love – I don’t know what the question was.

Just wondering if it ever feels like a responsibility to you.

RS: You know, I’ve had many a good year, but some years I’ve made really bummer mistakes. It’s like that’s when your brain wins. I mean, even on this record, I’ve got the lines about “let the stuff come in, but let it go.” And I’ve been pretty good at that for a long time. Not that it’s every second of my life. Sometimes it gets in. And it stays in your thoughts. Then you’re in hell. I’m blessed that that doesn’t happen half as much anymore. I can just dump the thought that comes in and deal with whatever it is.

I was going to ask you about that line in particular, because I think it does this beautiful job of talking about a meditative quality of finding peace without being preachy or telling people “how to” and I really love that.

RS: I meditated this morning. I meditate every morning, this time since ‘92. You know, we went to the Maharishi in India with the boys. And I was worried, you know, “Am I doing it properly?” I was talking to him [Maharishi] and he says, “Ringo, even if you fall asleep, you must have been tired.”

And it taught me a great lesson. I was into like, madness and stuff, you know, “It must be this. It must be me. What’s the problem?” And now I get quite calm.

That’s wonderful. Yeah. It comes across on this album. You’re talking about your own experience and that’s–

RS: What else can I talk about? I can’t talk about yours, you know? But thank you.

Tell me about the band that played on this record.

RS: T Bone’s whole band is great. The rest of Nashville is so great. They all came out to help me. To be there. It is in my heart.

Last January, when I was there and back three times. And every time when I’ve played at the Ryman… I’ve been playing there for the last 15 years with the All Stars, but when I go on that stage, I feel all the guys and all the gals who stood on that stage.

And then what happens? The Grand Ole Opry invited me to do three songs. And I go on that stage that has the Ryman circle that the singers stand on. It is magical. For me, coming from England, it was really magical to get on that stage. And the people are great. It is built for music coming out and hitting everybody, because it was a gospel church. I’m still moved. I get on the stage, and I have to go through a minute of, “Wow, wow!”

Photo Credit: Dan Winters

The Other 22 Hours: Heather Mae

Posted on by Justin Hiltner

We often look at an artist’s career through the lens of industry accolades: the tours, the streaming numbers, the awards. But what happens when you intentionally dismantle your creative ego to build something focused entirely on collective liberation? Heather Mae is an award-winning independent artist, the founder of Singing Resistance Nashville, and a prominent voice in organized musical activism. Following a viral arrest at the Tennessee State Capitol while protesting anti-trans legislation, Heather sits down with The Other 22 Hours to discuss the profound impacts of communal singing, navigating trauma as a neurodivergent and queer creator, and how to balance radical empathy without completely burning out. It’s an expansive, deeply human conversation about moving past the modern traps of artistic productivity to discover what it truly means to be of service.

LISTEN: APPLE • SPOTIFY • AMAZON • MP3

In This Episode:

– Heather Mae
– Ysaye Barnwell
– Sweet Honey in the Rock
– The Song School (Planet Bluegrass)
– National Organization for Women
– Singing Resistance Nashville
– Tennessee Equality Project
– Melody Walker
– Justin Jones
– Gloria Johnson
– WMOT
– “Just More Love”
– Alex Pretti
– Folk Alliance
– Crys Matthews
– Etta James
– MusiCares
– Music Health Alliance
– Carl Jung
– Ep 97 – Fancy Hagood

Go Deeper: 

Watch: View this entire conversation above or on YouTube.
Explore: Find similar conversations in these themed playlists.
Connect: Join the conversation on Instagram.

The Other 22 Hours is hosted by Aaron Shafer-Haiss (producer, mixer, musician) and Michaela Anne (songwriter, artist, creative coach). More about Aaron’s work. More about Michaela Anne’s work.

Produced by Aaron Shafer-Haiss. Original music written, performed and produced by Aaron Shafer-Haiss.

Photo Credit: Laura Schneider

The Working Songwriter: Eddie Schwartz

Posted on by Justin Hiltner

Our guest this week on the Working Songwriter hails from Canada and has spent over four decades writing hit songs. Eddie Schwartz got his start as a solo artist, but has found great success writing for and with other artists. His song “Hit Me With Your Best Shot” was recorded by Pat Benatar and became a certified platinum crossover hit. He went on to pen songs for Donna Summer, the Doobie Brothers, the Pointer Sisters, and many others.

LISTEN: APPLE • SPOTIFY • REDCIRCLE • MP3

As a former president of the Songwriters Association of Canada and the International Council of Music Creators, Schwartz has been a tireless advocate for songwriters. He’s received multiple BMI, SOCAN, and JUNO Awards. In 2012, he was awarded the Order of Canada, one of the country’s highest civilian honors.

I got a chance to catch up with Mr. Schwartz a few months ago to hear about his musical journey so far.

Photo courtesy of the artist.

Basic Folk: Abraham Alexander & Kashus Culpepper

Posted on by Justin Hiltner

We are live at sea aboard Cayamo 2026 with Abraham Alexander and Kashus Culpepper! The pair had not met prior, but we found a couple of very cool parallels between them, so we decided to interview them together. Plus, we knew it would be more fun to have them both up on stage in front of an audience. Abraham, based in Ft. Worth, Texas, and originally from Greece, has had an impressive rise in profile thanks to opportunities from friends like Leon Bridges, Gary Clark, Jr., and Adrian Quesada (Black Pumas). Quesada actually worked with Abe on the song “Like a Bird,” which was nominated for an Oscar for its inclusion in the deeply moving 2023 film Sing Sing. Navy veteran Kashus Culpepper, born and raised in Alexander City, Alabama, grew up singing in church and learned to play guitar while deployed in Spain. His deployment actually occurred during the pandemic in 2020; left with nothing to do and nowhere to go, he spent his time learning guitar, drinking plenty of sangria, and playing for his fellow sailors (who would also be enjoying said sangria).

LISTEN: APPLE • SPOTIFY • AMAZON • MP3

Abe and Kash have a few things in common that we discuss: their emotive and boisterous singing voices, learning guitar as adults, intense histories with sports, and, of course, being very handsome. We introduce our conversation with the two musicians as “Handsome Club,” (a shout out to Lizzie No’s OnlyFans handle, @handsomelizzie) and ask them to speak about their relationship with beauty. After ensuring them that we were for real, they spoke of beauty found in the process of turning pain into something positive, and how confidence in yourself is everything. We have some poignant moments and some major laughs that are enhanced by an awesome crowd. Thanks to everyone on board Cayamo for making the first meeting of Handsome Club so successful!

Photo Credit: Joel Parks

MORGXN: Home Is Where Your Heart Hangs Its Hat

Posted on by Justin Hiltner

“I don’t know when I became an activist,” MORGXN admits. “I’m just a human being who sings from the heart, but my heart is very broken by the world that we are currently living in.”

The singer-songwriter lived in Los Angeles for 10 years before moving back home to Nashville in 2022. “The minute I came back to Nashville, I ran into a guy once. He was like, ‘I only see you at the Capitol singing,’” he recalls. “When I moved back, they were trying to ban drag queens. They were trying to ban women’s access to health care.”

Most recently, he took to the Tennessee State Capitol to protest bills against same-sex marriage. “This is how rights get tested: one state, one bill, one ‘exception,’ and suddenly the floor moves under all of us,” he wrote on Instagram.

“I don’t even think about it as activism. I think about it as humanity. We are more alike as human beings than the media, the news, and politicians would want you to believe,” he explains. “It breaks my heart. If you have listened to this album, there are songs about love and the human experience. The album is for anybody bold enough to live as who they are in the middle of the heartland.

“That is what I hope people get from this album. I hope they feel less alone in their activism… I wouldn’t even use the word activism. I hope they feel less alone in their humanity, period.”

On March 6, MORGXN released a deluxe edition of his album, HEARTLAND, and while it pulls from country music, he wouldn’t exactly label it as such. “I don’t care what genre you tell me it is. I care that I’m speaking something that is true to me, and that’s how I make music,” he says. “I don’t make music outside in.

“I make music inside out. I find what’s inside, and I try to bring it outside,” he continues. “And the heartland is a place that is normally not reserved for people like me and you. And yet, living in the heartland, I see that everyone belongs in the heartland. The heartland is a space for everybody, and I want to reclaim the heartland for everybody.”

Good Country hopped on a Zoom call with MORGXN a week before the album’s release and chatted about collaborations with Tenille Townes and Maggie Rose, the meaning of community, the political divide in country, and the hardest lessons he’s learned since coming out as gay at 19 years old.

What are some of your favorite lyrics on the album?

MORGXN: “GOD CODED” is maybe the most important song I’ve ever written, whether or not most people hear the song – it’s not a radio song. But it is probably the most important song I’ve ever ushered into being. I have no problem with god or religion. I have a huge problem when people use god and religion as a weapon of their hate.

“WILLOW” I wrote for my friend’s daughter who has cerebral palsy, so that she knows that she is a bright light. Already that song has inspired other people, which really means that she has inspired other people. It’s hard for me to choose… “MIGRATION” is about losing my dog. I don’t have a favorite lyric – it’s like choosing a child. [Laughs]

Okay, here’s my funniest favorite line, “EVERGREENS.” The first line: “Tell me your sign/ And I’ll tell you mine/ And I’ll tell you if we’ll be okay.” I think that’s funny, because if I’m dating somebody, I will be like, “What is your sign?” And I’m going to decide right away if we’re even going to be compatible, which is maybe absolutely chaotic, but I love it.

With the deluxe edition of HEARTLAND you have several collaborators, including Tenille Townes, Ruby Amanfu, and Maggie Rose. How did you choose who you wanted, and what did they bring to the table?

Collaboration is like water to me. You know, I have many liquids here on my table. I am a gay man, so I have tons of liquid everywhere around – iced coffee is always a yes. Collaboration is also like breathing to me. When I think about making music, “the bible” to me is Willie Nelson and “On the Road Again.” The life I love is making music with my friends, and I can’t wait to get on the road again. That is how I think about music.

When I moved to Nashville, there were voices that I saw popping up that were saying really important things, like [Tenille Townes’] “Jersey on the Wall.” They were saying messages that really resonated with me inside of a space that is still not reserved for people like me.

I came here in 2022, which was 11 years after this manager told me I would never make it in music as an openly gay person. In Nashville, there was a thing bubbling up, but it was like you were reserved for this sideshow experience. You can be gay, but only during June, only when there’s a tent for you to stand under. That’s not how I believe in love or life or humanity. I reached out to several people wanting to create. Truth be told, I have people in my DMs who are massive artists, who love what I’m doing, but who can’t align with who I am because it will hurt their fan base. That’s insane. That’s 2026 for you.

But artists like Tenille Townes, Maggie Rose, Ruby Amanfu, Katie Pruitt – who’s obviously a queer beacon – and Langhorne Slim, they were people who were brave enough to collaborate outside of what is the norm for them. I’m really honored that they’re helping me create this version of the heartland where everyone gets to live.

With Tenille, “HEAVEN KNOWS” was the first song we ever wrote together. It was actually the day we met. The song has this sort of inner child: Why do we even keep trying in a world that feels so hard? Why do you love when your heart has been broken so many times? Why do you keep making music when it feels like the music industry is as crazy as ever? And why do you keep being a good person in a world that is hell-bent on trying to make you feel like you are an abomination? I try because I care. I love so deeply, you know.

Having grown up in Nashville, what did community mean to you then, before you came out at 19?

The one thing I’ll say about being queer in America – maybe anywhere in the world – is you’re forced to create community, and sometimes family, when that is not a given for you. I was very lucky that my family was… more confused and scared than they were not accepting. But my husband’s journey with his community – he grew up evangelical and his community kicked him out. He was going to be a pastor, going to seminary, and once he came out, he was kicked out of the church. I didn’t have that experience … but family to me widened the moment I came out. The idea that family was not just the people you were born into, but it is the people and friends and lovers who you collect along the way that were missing for me as a kid. Growing up here, I had a hard time fitting in, because everything I did stood out.

I played the Bluebird [Cafe] last night with Molly Tuttle, Maggie Rose, Liz Longley, and Ketch [Secor] from Old Crow Medicine Show. I’m sitting there singing “MY REVIVAL” – and I’ll cry thinking about this, but it’s like I’m sitting there singing [that song]. My husband is over here and the whole room is singing along with me. I have painted nails, singing my song at the Bluebird with legends. I’m the co-chair of the diversity committee for the Recording Academy in the Nashville chapter. I don’t know if I’ve “made it,” because I don’t think making it is even like the goal here. I want a career and a life, not a moment in time. That’s “making it” to me. For the closeted gay boy who was scared to ever reveal who he truly is, that’s my revival. There’s retribution. There’s deep healing, and there’s tons of gratitude, as well.

The divide in country music right now between people who are willing to sacrifice a fan base and those who aren’t is always widening. It’s cool to see who has come forward to make their voices heard.

Country music is three chords and the truth. That’s still the bible, but it has lost its way. There is a real ricochet happening where people are afraid to be truthful, because truth can sear and truth can be very quiet but very powerful. Nashville is at a breaking point. It’s a small town. We are growing by leaps and bounds. There’s a real deciding line between: do we make this a city for everybody or do we make this a city for the select few? That’s the same for country music, folk, Americana, and gospel.

“HEARTLAND,” the song, definitely pulls on gospel, folk, Americana, and pop, for sure, but it also pulls on country because it’s a story. I thought I’d see my name in lights. I thought that my life would be this flashy thing. It’s not. I fell in love with a man, and we have a farm, and we’re building a life together. That’s love to me. It’s a story. It’s my story. It’s real. So, it’s country; it’s folk; it’s Americana; it’s gospel. Now, will any of those genres accept me? I have no idea.

But the people on my album have accepted me for who I am and love me for who I am. And that, I think, is what the heartland is all about. You know, love thy neighbor. What happened to that?

You turn 39 this year, which happens to be 20 years since you came out. Was there any significance in releasing HEARTLAND (Deluxe Version) this year?

It’s funny. Titles of an album are like mystery buckets. I actually have a title for my next album and I’m so excited about it. Prince once said that he’s like two albums ahead of whatever’s commercially released. And I love that for him. I’m one album ahead of what is commercially released. Album titles visit me like a fever dream. Even HEARTLAND – the song, I gotta call out Josh Dorr, the co-writer on that song, who had a number one with Blake Shelton this year with “Texas.” He’s a legitimate country songwriter. Not even legitimate country songwriters would take a session with somebody like me and it takes guts to do that.

I haven’t thought about how it’s 20 years since I came out, but it makes a lot of sense. I have a song called “home.” When people were like, “Where is home?” I would be like, “Well, anywhere but Nashville, Tennessee, because that place would never accept a person like me.” Now, to be making a life here, building a farm, hosting Pride on our farm, there is something beautiful in that. It may have taken 20 years, but I’m home. It’s beautiful. I hadn’t really thought about time like that.

When we wrote “HEARTLAND,” I wrote it on the piano that I grew up on. There’s always ghosts in the bones of old instruments, but it’s safe where my heart lands. It’s the heartland, but it’s also where my heart gets to land safely. That’s the kind of love and belonging I wish for everybody. I’m not somebody who believes that you have to be in a relationship to be happy, or that you have to be married to be happy. That’s bullshit. That’s heteronormative, capitalist nonsense. You can find belonging amongst community, friends, and lovers. Does your heart have a place to hang its hat? That’s home.

What have been the hardest lessons you’ve learned over two decades?

The thing that comes up in my head is: it’s not over ‘til the fat lady sings. I’ve been a fat lady so… [Laughs] It will fall apart, and that’s okay. The true story is what happens when you pick yourself back up and keep going.

I’m far less interested in talking to somebody who’s never moved across the country once. I can’t really relate to you. If you’ve never sold all your belongings and moved somewhere at least twice, we might not have a lot of similar things to relate to. It doesn’t have to be grand moves. My husband has lived in a bunch of places in Nashville, has not left Nashville, but he’s lived a lot of life. You have to have lost everything once, probably twice, and hopefully that’s it. But it’s really about how you pick yourself back up at the bottom, and keep trying again.

Whether you think it’s good or not, it won’t last, and that’s okay. There’s beauty and grace in that. I have a friend, Kristen Griffith[-VanderYacht], who’s a [floral designer] – I think he’s now in Detroit – and he’s gone through a lot. He was on the Drew Barrymore Show, and the guest host was asking, “How do you keep flowers alive for longer?” Kristen grabbed his hand and he was like, “Here’s the thing, lean in close, I want you to hear this: they’re not meant to last. They’re meant to be beautiful for the moment that they’re there, and you’re meant to appreciate them in all their glory, and then you’re meant to let it go.”

That is really hard. That is maybe [informing] some of the themes about my next album, actually. It’s loving and letting go. Life is not linear. It’s not meant to be. Cherish all of the beauty, because nothing lasts forever. And there’s a ton of freedom in that sentence.

Photo Credit: Gabriel Starner

The Working Songwriter: Ricky Montgomery

Posted on by Justin Hiltner

Our guest this week on the Working Songwriter resides in Los Angeles, but spent many of his formative years in St. Louis, Missouri. Ricky Montgomery first built an audience on Vine in his early twenties before releasing his self-titled debut album in 2016. That bedroom pop album was a cult favorite until 2020, when several of its songs exploded on TikTok, leading to a deal with Warner Records.

LISTEN: APPLE • SPOTIFY • LIBSYN • MP3

Montgomery’s singles, “Line Without a Hook” and “Mr. Loverman,” are RIAA-certified platinum and, all told, his catalog has collected more than a billion streams worldwide. That grassroots support has led to headlining tours with stops at the Wiltern in Los Angeles, Irving Plaza in New York City, and the Pageant in St. Louis, to name just a few.

This interview was recorded nearly 18 months ago and has been delayed due to a snafu on my end, but I’m so glad we get to hear it now. I think you’ll very much enjoy hearing about Ricky’s musical journey through his own words.

Photo courtesy of Prelude Press.

Laura Bryna’s Lipstick & Lightning Playlist

Posted on by Justin Hiltner

“Lightning & Lipstick” is exactly what it sounds like – strength with sparkle, power with personality. This is a Mixtape full of songs that remind us we can be fierce and feminine, gritty and glamorous all at the same time. These are the anthems that shaped me – the ones that say you don’t have to shrink, you don’t have to apologize, and you definitely don’t have to choose between softness and strength. That duality is who I am, and it’s woven into everything I’m creating right now, from the fire and fight in “Warrior” to the swagger of “Beauty Queen” to the passion of “Hearts On Fire.”

As I gear up for shows at Sturgis Motorcycle Rally, The Cutting Room in NYC, Vanish Hall in Maryland, CMA Fest, and beyond, this Mixtape feels like the heartbeat behind it all – loud, fearless, and unapologetically alive. – Laura Bryna

“Rise” – Laura Bryna

I believe my song “Rise” resonates so deeply with women because it speaks to that quiet strength so many of us carry. It’s about pushing through the moments that try to break you – the doubts, the setbacks, the heartbreak – and choosing to stand up anyway. I’ve heard from so many women who see their own story in that song and to me that’s everything. It’s not about being fearless, it’s about being brave enough to rise even when you’re scared.

“Queen Of The Night” – Whitney Houston

This one resonates so powerfully because it’s pure confidence. There’s no shrinking, no second guessing – just a woman standing fully in her power and daring the world to keep up. That kind of boldness is contagious. For so many female listeners, it’s not just a song, it’s a reminder that you’re allowed to take up space, own your presence, and rule your own night without asking for permission.

“Miss Me More” – Kelsea Ballerini

I love “Miss Me More” because it flips the breakup narrative in such a smart way. It’s not about missing him, it’s about rediscovering yourself. That’s such a powerful shift. It reminds women that sometimes the biggest glow-up isn’t finding someone new, it’s remembering who you were before you started shrinking. It’s confident, catchy, and such a great reminder that losing someone can actually mean getting yourself back.

“Stronger” – Kelly Clarkson

“Stronger” is one of those songs that just hits you in the chest in the best way. It takes heartbreak and turns it into fuel. I love how it doesn’t pretend pain doesn’t exist, it just refuses to let it win. For women especially, it’s such a powerful reminder that the thing that knocked you down might actually be the thing that builds you back braver, louder, and more yourself.

“Jawbreaker” – Laura Bryna

My song “Jawbreaker” is that no-filter energy I think every woman deserves to tap into. It’s about being bold, a little dangerous, and not watering yourself down to make anyone else comfortable. I wanted it to feel playful but powerful – like, yes, she’s sweet… but she’s also not someone you mess with. For female listeners, it’s a reminder that you can be soft and strong at the same time, and that confidence looks really good on you.

“Survivor” – Destiny’s Child

This track hits because it turns every setback into a statement. It’s not about pretending things didn’t hurt, it’s about saying, “You didn’t break me.” That kind of energy is so powerful for women. It reminds us that resilience isn’t quiet; sometimes it’s loud, proud, and sung at the top of your lungs. It’s the ultimate glow-up anthem: strength with rhythm and attitude.

“I Will Survive” – Gloria Gaynor

“I Will Survive” is the blueprint. It’s the original standing-ovation moment for every woman who’s ever been underestimated. What I love about it is that it doesn’t just move on from heartbreak, it rises above it with dignity and fire. It’s strength wrapped in melody. For female listeners, it’s a reminder that resilience is timeless, and sometimes the most powerful thing you can say is, I’m still here and I’m stronger than ever.

“Before He Cheats” – Carrie Underwood

“Before He Cheats” is just fun. It taps into that dramatic, slightly unhinged energy we’ve all joked about at some point, and Carrie delivers it with such sass and power that you can’t help but sing along. It’s not about actually keying a car (please don’t), it’s about reclaiming your power in a moment where you felt disrespected. It’s fiery, bold, and the ultimate girls’ night, windows-down anthem.

“Strong Enough” – Cher

This song is such a timeless empowerment anthem because it’s strength wrapped in attitude. I love how the production carries that steady, almost defiant pulse; the groove feels grounded and unshakeable, like the confidence the lyrics are claiming. Cher’s vocal delivery is cool and controlled, which somehow makes the message even more powerful. For female listeners, it’s that reminder that independence isn’t loud for the sake of it – it’s steady, self-assured, and completely unbothered.

“Pink Pony Club” – Chappell Roan

“Pink Pony Club” feels like freedom in glitter form. It’s about choosing the life that lights you up, even if it doesn’t look like what everyone expected for you. I think that’s why it resonates so deeply with female and LGBTQ+ listeners – it celebrates self-expression without apology. The production is big, theatrical, and dramatic in the best way, like stepping into your own spotlight. It’s not just a song, it’s a permission slip to be fully, fabulously yourself

“Over Being Under You” – Laura Bryna

This song came from a really honest place for me. I wrote it during a season where I realized I was bending over backwards trying to keep the peace, trying to make everything work and slowly losing myself in the process. The song is about that turning point, when you decide you’re not going to shrink or overextend just to be chosen. For female listeners, I think it resonates because so many of us have been taught to over-give. This song is the reminder that you don’t have to over-bring anything to be enough – you already are.

“Unstoppable” – Sia

“Unstoppable” is that anthem you blast when you need to borrow a little courage. What I love about it is how the production builds — those pounding drums and cinematic layers make it feel larger than life, like you’re stepping into your own movie moment. Sia’s vocal has that mix of vulnerability and steel, which makes the message hit even harder. For women especially, it’s a reminder that even if you don’t always feel unstoppable, you can choose to show up like you are.

“My Strongest Suit” – Sherie Rene Scott

This one is a little out of left field but it’s such a clever, empowering anthem because it flips the idea of vanity into self-confidence. On the surface it’s playful and glamorous, but underneath it’s about owning your presence and knowing your worth. The production is theatrical and bold – bright brass, dramatic builds, and that larger-than-life Broadway energy – which makes it feel like you’re stepping into your power with every beat. For us women, it’s a reminder that confidence isn’t shallow… it’s strength dressed up and shining.

“Born This Way” – Lady Gaga

“Born This Way” is one of those songs that feels bigger than music, it feels like a movement. Gaga wrote it as a direct celebration of identity and self-acceptance, inspired by conversations around equality and the idea that we’re all designed exactly as we’re meant to be. I love how the production is bold, anthemic, and loud – it doesn’t tiptoe around the message that you were born powerful

“Time To Say Goodbye” – Laura Bryna

This is one of the most personal songs I’ve written because it’s about that breaking point. The moment you realize love shouldn’t feel like walking on glass. I wrote it thinking about anyone who feels stuck in something that’s slowly dimming their light. The production builds intentionally. It starts restrained and vulnerable, almost fragile, then opens up into this powerful, emotional lift that mirrors the courage it takes to finally choose yourself. For listeners in toxic relationships, it’s not just a goodbye to someone else – it’s a hello to your own strength.

“Espresso” – Sabrina Carpenter

“Espresso” just has that effortless, confident sparkle to it. It’s playful but self-assured, like she knows exactly the effect she has and isn’t apologizing for it. It’s flirty without being desperate, powerful without being preachy. The production is slick and minimal in the best way – that tight groove, the punchy bass, the airy vocal stacks – it feels cool, modern, and addictive. It’s the kind of song you put on when you want to walk a little taller and remember you’re the energy in the room.

“Beautiful” – Christina Aguilera

One of those rare songs that meets people exactly where they are. The lyrics are so direct and vulnerable – there’s no metaphor to hide behind, it just says what so many people are afraid to admit: I don’t feel enough sometimes. That honesty is universal. Production-wise it’s intentionally stripped back at first, soft piano, space around the vocal, which make Christina’s performance feel intimate and raw. Then it swells just enough to feel like a release. It’s not flashy, it’s sincere. And that sincerity is why it resonates across every background, identity, and experience.

Photo Credit: Fernando Salazar

The Other 22 Hours: Butch Walker

Posted on by Justin Hiltner

Butch Walker has spent decades at the summit of the music industry, producing multi-platinum records for icons like Pink, Katy Perry, and Green Day while fronting his own high-energy solo tours. Yet, despite reaching that peak, he found himself “climbing the hill” so intently that he had forgotten to look at the view, leading to burnout and a desire to step back. In this episode of the Other 22 Hours, we explore the courage required to dismantle an ego-driven path in favor of a soul-driven one, and finding unbridled joy in the simple act of being a “sponge” for new inspiration.

LISTEN: APPLE • SPOTIFY • AMAZON • MP3

In This Episode:

– Butch Walker
– Marvelous 3
– John Legend
– Frank Zappa
– Train
– Taylor Swift
– Bad Bunny
– Kendrick Lamar
– Desmond Child

Go Deeper:

Watch: View this entire conversation on YouTube.
Explore: Find similar conversations in these themed playlists.
Connect: Join the conversation on Instagram.

The Other 22 Hours is hosted by Aaron Shafer-Haiss (producer, mixer, musician) and Michaela Anne (songwriter, artist, creative coach). More about Aaron’s work. More about Michaela Anne’s work.

Produced by Aaron Shafer-Haiss. Original music written, performed and produced by Aaron Shafer-Haiss.

Photo Credit: Rose Catherine Hohl

Lilith Fair Was Its Own Kind of Revolution

Posted on by Justin Hiltner

The ’90s might be cool again, but there was more to the era than Friends and Seinfeld. In the shadows of the dot-com boom and bust, NAFTA and off-shoring, life wasn’t as slow or quirky as those shows made it seem. American women had more independence than ever before – but they were still waging battles for gender equity from kitchen tables to C-suites to recording studios.

Sarah McLachlan was just reaching the peak of her powers in 1997, enjoying international success but frustrated by radio programmers’ limited ideas of how their audience received women. McLachlan and other women were constantly pitted against each other, told that no one would listen to two songs by women in a row – and certainly no one would want to see women tour together. So, McLachlan set out to prove the world wrong, reshaping popular music in the process.

Lilith Fair: Building a Mystery is a new documentary produced by ABC News and released in September 2025. Available to stream now on Hulu, the project captures the festival’s revolutionary three years with pride and exuberance, encapsulating Lilith Fair’s confident strength and joy. Archival footage of shows and interviews with some of the hundreds of thousands of fans who flocked to the event are resolute testaments to the festival’s enduring impact – if only people remembered it.

The film, directed by Ally Pankiw, premiered at the 2025 Toronto International Film Festival in early September. Dan Levy (of Schitt’s Creek fame) co-produced the film under his Not a Real Production company. The documentary follows the story of Lilith Fair from its genesis, examining the festival’s place in history, the misogyny women artists faced at the time, and the trails it blazed for women artists today. Featuring McLachlan, Sheryl Crow, Erykah Badu, Paula Cole, and more in interviews, the film explores how McLachlan’s forward-thinking vision animated Lilith Fair into something much more than a package tour.

Lilith Fair’s Place in History

“The cultural memory of Lilith is clearly very skewed,” observes co-producer Cassidy Hartmann, who spoke to BGS. “There are a number of reasons for that. Women’s achievements in history have often been overshadowed or skewed in some way and there’s often been backlash against that.”

The documentary opens with a series of TikTok videos featuring half a dozen Gen Z-ers breathlessly recounting the massive package tour devoted solely to women artists of all genres. In 1997, 1998, and 1999, Lilith Fair main stage featured McLachlan, Badu, Cole, Crow, Tracy Chapman, The Indigo Girls, Jewel, Missy Elliot, Bonnie Raitt, and many more – while the “village stages” featured then little known up-and-comers like Christina Aguilera, Dido, and Nelly Furtado.

McLachlan and her team led the massive undertaking with a steady hand and, as the documentary shows, a willingness to learn from critiques. By the festival’s third year in 1999, the event boasted artists of many genres, cultures, and ages – though the sound leaned predominantly folk.

“I don’t think that any genre classified us,” Paula Cole demurred when speaking to BGS.

“I think that everyone was so unique and had their own music, and we fall into different classifications. I personally hate genre classification, because it’s limiting. Great music is usually a blend, anyway.”

Cole, who was nominated for three GRAMMYs for her 1996 album This Fire, would know about great music. Yet, a half hour into Lilith Fair: Building a Mystery, you’d be hard-pressed to miss her twang and carefully crafted lyrics forming the backbone of, well, Good Country.

But Cole has a point. While Lilith is often remembered in pop culture as a collection of (white) folk-inspired dryads, the festival featured an array of talent across all genres of music. As the documentary illustrates, McLachlan received feedback that the tour’s first year was too racially homogeneous, so she sought to build a tour that encompassed the totality of women working in music: Badu, Missy Elliott, and Queen Latifah all played the festival. (The documentary details a hilarious anecdote about Missy Elliott’s ride to the show after her tour bus broke down – we won’t spoil it here, but it’s the kind of thing that simply doesn’t happen in the age of smartphones.)

According to Badu, her time with Lilith Fair inspired her to create the Sugar Water Festival with herself, Queen Latifah, and Jill Scott in 2005 and 2006. Like Lilith, that event brought together community orgs that addressed women’s (and in this case, Black women’s) concerns.

Rippling Energy

Cole was a part of Lilith’s story from the very beginning, joining McLachlan on short, experimental runs to see if an all-woman lineup could indeed draw a crowd.

“It was uncommon for women to open for women. Every night I would tell the audience, I want to thank Sarah for having me here because this is uncommon,” Cole says. “This doesn’t happen. And audiences would erupt into applause when I would tell them that. It felt like a zeitgeist. You could feel the energy ripple.”

But Lilith Fair did not happen in a vacuum. It stands as one chapter in a long-ignored legacy of self-made movements among women in music. In the ’60s and ’70s, there was, in fact, an entire movement-turned-genre known as “women’s music.” The folk-inspired sounds were championed by queer record label Olivia Records and Michigan Womyn’s Music Festival was one of the scene’s organizing forces from 1976 to 2015. MichFest, as it was known, was an annual convergence of feminist women across the sexual and gender spectrum. But, the festival’s refusal to admit trans women in 1991 contributed to its decline. (The silver lining here is the subsequent organizing of trans rights groups and cis allies, but that’s a story for another time.)

While the Indigo Girls and Chapman performed at both Lilith Fair and MichFest, the headlining artists on Lilith’s lineup already had major label backing and widespread commercial success by 1997. Yet, history has collapsed and often conflated the two.

“A lot of people think Ani DiFranco was at Lilith,” executive producer Hartmann observes. “Clearly there is some overlap there. I think all of these women had a righteous anger and were super blunt about it.”

Indeed, while DiFranco has earned her reputation as that decade’s feminist iconoclast, Cole’s This Fire would certainly belong right next to DiFranco’s records on the shelf (likely much to the dismay of ’90s rock critics.)

Lilith Fair received quite a bit of criticism from women critics – certainly, McLachlan’s gentle forcefulness may have been more palatable to record labels than, say, riot grrl, but with time sanding down the edges of the record bins, it’s easy to see how they all form part of a whole.

“Women often don’t get to hear and understand the stories of generations of women before them, because culture has a tendency not to platform those stories. That lineage is often broken,” explains Hartmann. “Another thing that Lilith did really well was it had multi-generational artists. Emmylou Harris and Bonnie Raitt were there, bestowing their own wisdom and experience to these younger women. I think that’s also a really powerful element to keep in mind and hopefully replicate in the future.”

Building a Documentary

According to Hartmann, the documentary was inspired by Jessica Hopper’s Vanity Fair article “Building a Mystery: An Oral History of Lilith Fair.” Co-produced by Dan Levy and directed by Ally Pankiw, the film draws upon footage from MTV News, band members, and festival staff – plus a trove of 600 unreleased tapes gathered by Lilith on Top, a 2001 documentary that was only released in Canada.

There were plenty of reasons to resurface the story.

“Many of these people are at a point in their lives and careers [now] where I think they can reflect on that moment and have some perspective on it as well,” Hartmann says. “Unfortunately, I think the themes of the Lilith story are as relevant as ever, in terms of what’s happening in our society and culture at the moment with women’s rights being rolled back. It’s a moment to be reminded of what’s possible.”

Cole echoes that sentiment.

“Politically, things are so frightening as we’re witnessing the formation of autocracy without checks and balances and a lot of backlash [to liberalism],” she says. “I think Lilith is needed now more than ever. Anytime that someone’s talking about it is important. The conversation must go on, must go on, and we must keep telling people about it. It just gives hope, it gives breath, it opens doors, it lifts the ceiling.”

Indeed, if the film’s archival live footage conveys just a micron of the incredible energy in those venues, then Lilith was a revolution indeed.

Passing the Baton

McLachlan has repeatedly stated that, while the world needs something like Lilith Fair again, she is not the one to lead it – and that it would need to be very different than Lilith Fair was.

“I think Lilith was its own unique entity,” Cole reflects. “There are artists that, you know, sell a lot more tickets than Sarah that could drive this and that could do such a thing. I’m calling on the younger women of today to create their own version of Lilith Fair.”

But one message should still resonate: that quiet defiance Lilith Fair proudly bore – proving conventional wisdom wrong.

“When someone tells you something’s not possible, If you believe in it and you commit yourself to it, look what can happen,” Hartmann observes. “If it comes from a true organic place, the sky’s the limit.”

“Culture change, feminism, fresh thinking, intersectional thinking, it takes time,” says Cole. “It’s like a slow, long, quiet revolution.”

Images courtesy of ABC News Studios; Paula Cole photo by Merri Cyr. 

Joshua Ray Walker Has Got the Stuff

Posted on by Justin Hiltner

When Joshua Ray Walker received a cancer diagnosis in early 2024, he thought he only had months to live. This led him to contemplate not only his life and what he’s done with it, but his possessions and what would happen to them if he were to perish.

His latest album, Stuff, is the culmination of that pondering. Across 10 songs, the Dallas-based singer breathes life into a variety of inanimate objects ranging from a brick to the scent of perfume on sheets, bowling balls striving for perfect games, and even Barbie dolls eyeing everlasting love. Despite its deeply personal nature, the record leans into universal themes of grief and mourning since we’re all ultimately destined to suffer the same fate.

“We’ve all had someone in our lives die,” he says. “That’s why love and death are go-to topics for most songwriters – they’re two of our most universal concepts.”

With his future uncertain, Walker threw the rule book out for recording Stuff. Teaming up with longtime producer John Pedigo inside his home studio, the duo laid down everything on their own in a week – even instruments like the synth and melodica that Walker had never tinkered with before. The result is the “Sexy After Dark” singer’s most personal, dark, experimental, and hopeful album all rolled into one.

“Growing up everyone wanted to make records in their bedroom, but I never knew anyone with nice enough equipment to actually do it,” says Walker, who’s now stacked up a year’s worth of clean CT scans. “In junior high and high school I remember recording vocals in my friend’s laundry room or sneaking into a friend’s house whose mom had a piano and recording parts on it on the fly. There’s just always been something really fun about trying to make something sound the way we wanted from a sound people wouldn’t expect.”

Ahead of Stuff’s release, Walker spoke with Good Country from inside his van stacked to the gills with merch ahead of a run supporting Molly Tuttle. Our conversation covered his health struggles, the healing nature of writing these songs, experimenting in the studio, and more.

How’d the idea for this album come about?

Joshua Ray Walker: Before I even got sick I had thought about writing a song or album from the perspective of inanimate objects. Once I fell ill, I made a plan with my best friend and producer, John Pedigo, to write a song every week so that at the end of my year [at] home doing treatment I could have 50 new songs. When you’re planning to write that much, it’s easier if you pick a theme.

At the time, I was also starting to do estate planning for myself due to the nature of my advanced cancer. Even though I had multiple family members die where I was the main person who had to deal with their belongings after they passed, it was an eye-opening experience. So somewhere between the inanimate object song idea and thinking about where all my personal belongings would go if I died, I came up with the idea to write a whole album of songs from the perspective of stuff that was left over at an estate sale.

Subconsciously I was feeling like a burden to people. Anytime you’re sick, it’s a lot of effort that your loved ones have to put in, and even though they reassure you that you’re not a burden, it doesn’t stop you from thinking that way. [On this album] I was trying to think about that while projecting onto these items how leftover stuff can be a burden even after its owner is dead and gone.

Were any of the songs on Stuff more difficult to bring to life than others?

There were around 30 different ideas for the actual items, so the ones that got made were the ones that came the quickest since we were in a time crunch to make the record. If it was difficult it just didn’t end up getting written.

That being said, there was definitely some unexpected stuff. Like on “Brick” – I wasn’t necessarily expecting a brick to make it on the record, but it actually ended up being one of my favorites. I’ve always been very nostalgic for physical items as well, which only made it easier to connect with these objects. It made for a fun challenge writing from these perspectives and trying to get people to relate to it or have some emotional response. I’m known for being able to write from a character’s perspective and have been fascinated by how fictional characters can conjure up real emotions. It made me wonder if I could take things a step further and get people to feel something for these fictional objects.

Well, I’d say mission accomplished!

In addition to the concept and lyrical depth of these songs I also adore the sonic direction as well, which pulls from your previous material at times while navigating into pop, electronic, and other territory elsewhere. What motivated you to take that approach?

Because of where I was at with my health when we were conceptualizing the record, I really just wanted to explore some sounds that I’ve always loved and been influenced by, but didn’t make sense for the projects I worked on previously. Since I wasn’t sure how many more records I would be able to make I wanted to have as few limitations on what I was making as possible. If you put yourself in a box it forces you to be pretty creative. The rules were that John and I had to play all the instruments and we could only use ones we already had inside his home studio. It forced us to stretch a bit from our normal production style and was a lot of fun to make. We did it all in a week, locking ourselves in the studio for as many as 14 hours a day to get it all done.

Were there any instruments you played that you hadn’t tinkered with much before, if at all?

I played a lot of the keys, which I’d never really done before.I’d never played synths or melodica before, either. There were also just a lot of weird ambient sounds on the record. At one point we even had a sponge tucked under the bridge of a guitar as I was playing the strings with drumsticks, giving it a dulcimer-esque sound. We also utilized paper clips on ukulele strings to make them rattle, the pull string from a lamp on a cymbal so it would sizzle and random cups and pillows as percussion on the song “Stuff” – we wanted to turn non-instruments into instruments.

One of the songs I love most on Stuff is “Barbie,” a song about playing with dollhouses that contains some of the best one-liners on the whole record like, “…Do you want to play house with me and practice making babies?” Tell me about how it came to be?

Like you said, it’s a song about kids playing house put onto the characters of Barbie and G.I. Joe. It’s Barbie looking out her window and seeing G.I. Joe get played with in the sandbox and pining for this love connection. For one reason or another, G.I. Joe makes it into the house one day and they have the chance to run off in her Jeep and canoodle. When you’re a kid you don’t even really know what that means, but if you watch kids play with dolls at some point they’re going to make them kiss. They know people fall in love, but they don’t understand how or why – they’re just acting out what they see their parents doing. Such a big part of childhood is trying to figure out what all that means, so I thought it’d be funny to have Barbie trying to work that out for herself in this song.

Sounds like it has the potential to lead to a lot of conversations about the birds and the bees between parents and their kids. [Laughs]

Another song I want to ask you about is “Bowling Ball,” which features by far your lowest vocal register on the entire album. Tell me about your decision with that along with what made you want to bring a bowling ball of all things to life?

I don’t bowl much anymore, but used to be in a league when I was a kid. There’s a local bowling alley in my neighborhood called Jupiter Lanes that I’ve been very nostalgic for since I had a birthday party there and won a Johnny Bravo bowling ball when I was eight. [John Pedigo] is also a good bowler who grew up with a mom who worked at a bowling alley. We both know more about bowling than the average person, which allowed us to write a song from the ball’s perspective pretty well.

It’s got the best beginning, middle, and end to any song on the record, because it’s one short story about someone getting ready to finally bowl a perfect game. Only a frame away they throw too hard and pick up a chip or crack in the ball return, leading to a “put me in coach” or Rudy moment. They’re contemplating whether to walk over to the pro shop to get a new ball to finish out their first perfect game or continue on with ole faithful that got you there.

In terms of the vocal delivery, that’s pitch-shifted down with a Whammy pedal – I simply don’t have that kind of range on my own. That’s also something you’re just not allowed to do on a typical country record, which is another rule I guess we broke.

I gotta know more about this Johnny Bravo bowling ball!

I got it from that bowling league I mentioned, which was sponsored by Cartoon Network. At the end of the league, if you placed in the top three you were able to pick out a custom ball with whatever Cartoon Network character you wanted on it. The color was called galaxy, which is this purple kind of nebula-like color with Johnny Bravo etched into the side. It was awesome!

I remember choosing between him and Dexter, but I wound up choosing Johnny because of my dad, who would jokingly do an impression of Johnny Bravo’s voice that I loved. I also just related to that character and had a blonde pompadour haircut of my own.

You mentioned the song being about the journey to bowling a perfect game. Have you ever tossed one?

Definitely not. [Laughs] The best I’ve ever done is in the 220 range. I peaked at bowling when I was around nine years old. If I were to go bowling right now I would not do well at all.

With how much you’ve stepped outside your comfort zone on Tropicana and Stuff, what direction do you see taking next, musically?

I have a lot of projects, but only thought I’d have a couple years to make them, so I focused on jotting all of them down since I tend to see records as entire concepts, not just collections of songs. I have an autobiographical project I’m wrapping up now, but I also have a western trilogy on my mind along with a bluegrass record and even something a bit heavier.

Hopefully I’ll get to keep making records and all of these projects will come to light. Even though my music sounds different record to record they’re all still country in my mind. I’m always trying to make country music, whether it sounds like that or not.

What has Stuff and everything you’ve experienced the last couple of years taught you about yourself?

I hold onto things a lot less now than I used to. But in general, I just want to spend more time doing things I like with people that I like. This health scare has taught me to make music however I feel like making it and to do it as much as I can while I still can.

Lead image courtesy of the artist.