I’ve been enamored by the West since I first set a dusty boot down in Marathon, Texas – a town that would be my spiritual hometown, if such things existed.
I made my last record, Marathon, with my incredibly talented friend Davis Naish in a tiny adobe house in that little town. For the new record, we camped out in his Los Angeles studio, so I figured, “Hey, let me put together a playlist that I think captures the way I feel about the vast stretch of land that lies between Marathon and LA.” Road trip! – Drew Kennedy
“Desperados Waiting For A Train” – Guy Clark
Guy was born in Monahans, Texas, not too far from Marathon, so this feels like a natural starting point. To me, there are few artists who are able to capture the spirit of Far West Texas like Guy Clark. With equal parts romance, unflinching honesty, and those trademark turns of phrase that make him a hero to songwriters who know, Guy can always make me feel like I’m standing beside him in the little movies that are his songs.
“Levelland” – James McMurtry
If you trekked due north and just a little east out of Monahans, eventually those sand hills and mesas play out into plains so flat and wide open it can make the uninitiated feel uncomfortable. A friend once told me a buddy of his said he didn’t like it because “there was no place to hide.” From what or whom didn’t matter. You’re just out there, totally exposed–the only thing breaking the perfect line between land and sky. Those McMurtrys sure know how to tell a good story. Anyway, if we kept going north we’d be getting farther away from California, so let’s hang a left.
“Watch It Shine” – Walt Wilkins
Walt Wilkins is another songwriting hero and I’m lucky to call him a friend, as well. The Poet Laureate of the Hill Country teams up with Owen Temple to take you on a ride following the Rio Grande as it snakes south from Taos towards Santa Fe. It also features one of my favorite lines I’ve ever heard in a song: “They say there’s iron in these mountains, and in bone and skin and mud/ They say that iron only comes from stars, so stars are in my blood.” Goosebumps every time.
“Low Sun” – Hermanos Gutiérrez
Put a ranch water in my hand, fire up this album, and cue a good sunset. The only three ingredients I need to find my favorite places inside my mind no matter where on earth I am. Doubly effective if I’m already in one of my favorite places.
“Don’t Worry” – Marty Robbins (single, 1961)
We’re getting out into the type of landscape most people who’ve never visited the desert picture in their heads when someone mentions it. Saguaros, red rocks. We’re well beyond El Paso now, so we’ll go with this beauty from Marty Robbins. Yes, that is the coolest guitar solo of all time. I’ve heard several different stories about how they got that sound, but however they came by that tone, hell yeah.
“Willin'” – Little Feat
We’ve covered a lot of ground… maybe we’re dragging a little bit after all of those miles. The boys in Little Feat know how we feel, and they’ve got our back.
“Queen of California” – John Mayer
Now that we’re pulling into town we need something we can nod along to with our Wayfarers on and our hair blowing in the sweet California breeze, as we take in the sights. This song is a badass way to kick off a record, too.
“Beautiful World” – Colin Hay
I mean, when we get there one of the first things we’re gonna do is jump into the Pacific, right? I love that Colin Hay sounds like Colin Hay and nobody else and man, do I love the way he writes a song.
“It Never Rains In Southern California” – Trent Summar & The New Row Mob
I love their version of this song. It’s not all sunshine and roses out there, you know.
“California Poppy” – Theo Lawrence
I was shocked when I found out this guy was from France. Sometimes people in Texas are shocked when they find out I’m from Pennsylvania. Point is, if it’s in you, it’s in you. I would believe it if you told me the ghosts of Buck Owens and Don Rich were sprinkling a little of that Bakersfield dust around the studio the day they laid this one down.
“Mama Told Me Not To Come” – Randy Newman
I’ve aged out of today’s version of this kind of party, but that doesn’t mean I don’t expect to see some unexpected things whenever I’m out in LA. Another one-of-one, Randy Newman.
“Texas Time” – Explorer Tapes
And with that, let’s turn this big baby blue Cadillac convertible around and head back home. I assume that’s the kind of ride we’d want for this road trip. Thanks for tagging along.
(Editor’s Note: Ben Nichols and Rick Steff, two members of Lucero, recently released a special acoustic album, Lucero Unplugged, reimagining songs from across the band’s 25-year catalog. To celebrate its release on January 24, we asked the pair to curate a Mixtape for BGS.)
Rick and I each chose five songs for this playlist focusing on the spaces in between the notes. We feel these songs illustrate that sometimes it’s the notes that are chosen not to be played that add weight and impact. It’s the spaces in between the notes that bring life to the notes that are there. Rick’s picks naturally focus on piano players and my own choices lean more towards acoustic guitars. It’s easy to tell who suggested which songs. But I love the list we ended up with. Thanks for letting us participate in this and thanks for listening. – Ben Nichols
With all these choices it’s the notes not played, the spaces between, the breaths between the sounds. When making Lucero Unplugged these players and records informed a lot of the choices and approaches I took with regards to dynamics and voicings, and mainly just trying to be a solid accompanist for Ben and to the song. – Rick Steff
“Dayton Ohio 1903” – Randy Newman
Randy Newman is the king of piano voicing. Where he places his notes is always perfect. He’s also an amazing accompanist and I always think of him whenever I record piano. This often overlooked song shows all of that as well as being a portal to another time. – RS
“Florida” – Thomas Dollbaum
One of my favorite (mainly) acoustic records. A friend turned me on to Thomas’ album, Wellswood, and I liked it so much I asked Thomas to come to The Whitewater Tavern in my hometown of Little Rock and play my 50th birthday party with me. In the song “Florida” we hear a story that’s rough around the edges sung in a voice that’s vulnerable, but builds with the music and then pulls the rug out from under you, punching you in the gut. He’s so good he makes me jealous. – BN
“Waterlow” – Mott the Hoople
Ian Hunter. No band was more influential to me than Mott the Hoople and their early records have amazing keyboard parts. “Waterlow” reminds me of Lucero songs compositionally. Beautiful song and lovely piano arpeggio that follows the vocal. – RS
“Goin’ Down South” – R.L. Burnside
The haunting drone of this early R.L. Burnside recording captured my imagination the first time I heard it. In between the driving acoustic guitar licks and the churning vocals you can hear the Mississippi Hill Country nights. You can see the Mississippi River and feel its meandering presence as it makes its way south relentlessly, through the middle of the country. – BN
“I Keep a Close Watch” – John Cale
John Cale. Again, all about accompanying. This performance has always been a favorite of mine from the ex-Velvet Underground solo catalog. John’s piano work in the Velvets has also influenced and showed up on Lucero records for sure. – RS
“Good Woman” – Cat Power
The Lucero song “When You Decided to Leave,” featured on the new Lucero Unplugged album Rick and I just released, was written after I heard this Cat Power song. The lyrics about leaving something you love, being a “good” or “bad” woman or man, and the conflict and heartbreak bound up in that hit me hard. The instrumentation and performances accentuate that ache and desire. A desire for someone (maybe ourselves) to be a way they cannot be. – BN
“A Salty Dog” – Procol Harum
Gary Brooker was an amazing pianist and this song features something I’ve tried to achieve on various recordings throughout the years, the piano vignette. A small section removed from everything else that resets the song in a unique way. Like a structured solo, sort of. This is to me one of the most moving songs of the sixties and often still brings me a tear. Same band as “Whiter Shade of Pale,” by the way. – RS
“Bruised Ribs” – Joey Kneiser
I’d been a fan of Joey Kneiser’s band, Glossary, for years and when he released this acoustic solo album I fell in love with it. The straightforward presentation with delicate and thoughtful accompaniment lets the power of his simply perfect lyrics shine through. It doesn’t get much better than this. This album definitely influenced me to write some solo acoustic songs myself. – BN
“Ruby’s Arms” – Tom Waits
It’s difficult to choose one Tom Waits song to show his piano style, having spent decades with his music. His barroom piano voicings and dramatic tempo rises and falls – “Ruby’s Arms” showcases those beautifully and heartbreakingly. – RS
“Living on the Moon” – Adam Faucett
Adam is from Little Rock, Arkansas (like me), and this song is one of my favorites. Again, it goes back to the spaces in between the notes– the choices he made about the sounds we hear. We hear everything we need and nothing we don’t for the ultimate emotional impact. There is a preciseness to the recordings of all the songs on this list that I haven’t been able to capture much in my career. But I love it. And I’m still learning and hopefully there is a little of that on this new Lucero Unplugged album. – BN
Bluegrass. Newgrass. Chambergrass. Jamgrass. Thrashgrass. So many sub-genres, so little time. For guitarist Jordan Tice – solo artist and longtime member of Nashville-based Hawktail – there’s no time at all, because labels don’t define art and they don’t factor into his creative process.
“I don’t necessarily think about it,” he says. “I mostly do what I feel like doing and incorporate sounds that feel relevant, that I have a personal connection to and an excitement to explore, and the ability to replicate and share. I’d like to think that personality can unite disparate things if the heart is pure.”
Tice weaves a thread of musical connectivity on his new release, Badlettsville. The EP features two covers, Bob Dylan’s “Tryin’ to Get to Heaven” and Randy Newman’s “Dayton, Ohio – 1903,” as well as the originals “Mean Old World” and the instrumental title track. The four are staples of his live shows, but only now have they been committed to recordings.
“They’re all fundamental to my show and are requested as much as my other songs, but they didn’t have a place on either the last record or the next one, so they belonged in Badlettsville,” he says. “They fit together sonically as well. As soon as we got those four things down, I was like, ‘This is something.’”
Ever busy, Tice isn’t slowing down in 2025, although the emphasis is shifting somewhat. After two hectic years, Hawktail is dialing back a bit on gigging and Tice is devoting time to another solo album. “Hawktail has an EP in the can that will hopefully get out sometime soon,” he says. “We’re doing a few festival gigs but taking a much lighter year. I’m doing some dates in support of [Badlettsville], in addition to festivals with Hawktail. But I’m trying to take a little bit of a step back to focus on making this new record.”
Your website bio begins, “Jordan Tice is a musical seeker of the most dedicated sort.” What does the term “musical seeker” mean to you?
Jordan Tice: I’m always exploring my own interests and creativity, and also exploring the music that I do play, the roots of that. I want to understand myself and everything I do, and everything that came before me, better.
Part of the art of music is communicating to anybody, not particularly musicians. The more you understand about music in general, the more you understand what works and what doesn’t. The more you do it, get out there, and play and make records, the more you understand how things register and land with people – different types of thoughts and sentiments, things like that. Music is the art of sculpting sound within a given amount of time for someone who’s giving you their ear.
How has that manifested itself over the course of your solo albums and Hawktail?
With everything you do, there’s something you want to repeat about it, but there’s also things you want to do differently. I mostly grew up writing instrumental music and Hawktail is entirely instrumental. Long about 2015 or 2016, I started writing songs like crazy, just out of nowhere, and I realized I needed an outlet for that. But the instrumental stuff is still near and dear. Keeping a foot in both doors allows me to scratch this itch and this love for both of these things I do.
Did moving to Nashville have something to do with your songwriting?
I think so. I can’t provide concrete evidence, but the coincidence is too great – the fact that I started writing songs right when I moved to Nashville. So the answer is yes, but I couldn’t tell you exactly how. I also started hanging out with a lot more songwriters. My community was more instrumental-based in Boston and New York, where I lived before, so there’s definitely the influence of some new friends I made upon moving down here.
You’ve been playing guitar since you were 12. Does it sometimes feel the same today as it did then?
Yeah. I actually started taking lessons again, from a classical guitar teacher, just because I have some time off the road this winter. There’s things I wanted to improve and I decided I needed some help. I’m always trying to improve, always listening to things, and even in the music I love, there’s still the same sense of mystery of, “How did they do that?” The breadth of everything you’re aware of and assimilated expands, but at the same time it’s the same old [thing].
What led you to classical training?
We’re not doing classical music per se, I should clarify. But a lot of the things I was hoping to work on were technical-based, and classical guitar has such a codified, rigorous, technical study and a pedagogy related to technique in a way that other genres don’t necessarily have.
I’ve studied a lot of facets of music, but I’m not formally trained by any stretch. I took some jazz guitar lessons here and there, and I studied composition, but in terms of guitar I’ve never had formal technical training. I felt I was up against some roadblocks and walls with my playing and decided I needed the help of an expert, a teacher. This [teacher] came strongly recommended from my friend Chris Eldridge from Punch Brothers, and it’s been rewarding to expand the technical facility side of things.
You played a Preston Thompson Brazilian Rosewood and your main guitar, a Collings, on Badlettsville. Tell us about those guitars.
I was at Laurie Lewis’s house in Berkeley with Brittany [Haas] from Hawktail. We were in town playing and we were helping her move some furniture. She had this Preston Thompson in the corner that she was trying to sell and I was interested. It’s from 2016. She hand-selected the cut of Brazilian rosewood, a beautiful piece of wood, and had them make it with this wood that she had sourced. I absolutely love it. It’s going to be my main touring guitar for my solo stuff coming up.
The Collings is a D1A mahogany dreadnought that I bought in 2014. It’s perfectly balanced. It almost sounds like an old guitar. The overtones are exactly right. I have a relationship with Collings, but I bought this one at The Music Emporium in Boston because I liked it so much. It’s been my main axe for the last ten years. It’s what I play in Hawktail and what I recorded my last solo record on.
I brought both of those guitars to the studio, in addition to this new Yamaha FG Indian rosewood guitar that I’ve been working with them for the last couple years to promote and develop. They’re great guitars, and it was a fun process getting to work with them and help get the word out. They’re really fantastic.
How do your picking styles with Hawktail, on your solo work, and with other artists come together to create your style?
I write a lot of music, so my identity as a writer maybe puts those things in the same world. So I would say that it’s filtered through the same mind, and also the conceit is that it’s my music. Hawktail is collaborative, obviously, but it’s part of the same musical world.
I’ve always looked up to Norman Blake and Doc Watson. Norman Blake does a lot of different things, but you don’t really think about it. He plays fingerstyle, flatpicking, traditional music, writes his own music, but it all makes sense in the context of his world. I’ve always admired that as an archetype for a folk musician. He’s himself first. He’s not a historian. He picks and chooses things that work in his musical world, as opposed to something outside of himself. He’s an artist that happens to combine all these folk music techniques and sources into something that’s his own.
You’re thought of primarily as an acoustic player, but you also play electric guitar. Which ones?
I grew up playing rock and roll, in addition to bluegrass and things like that. My first music was the Allman Brothers. I got together with this guy in my church and he showed me the twin lead thing. We’d learn the two leads and then we’d switch. That music is near and dear to me – Jimi Hendrix, the Allman Brothers. So I’ve always played a little electric too. I think it’s going to work its way into the next album.
My main electric is an American Standard Telecaster that I swapped out some of the pickups and modified a little bit. I put a higher-output Seymour Duncan pickup in the neck position and I made it a four-way switch, so you have the humbucker setting in addition to the normal three settings.
Also I have a Yamaha Revstar Professional that they just sent that I’ve been having fun with as well.
What do acoustic and electric guitar each bring out in your playing?
An electric allows you the opportunity to fill up a room with less effort. You can saturate a room with sounds with less notes, with less physical effort. An acoustic is a parlor instrument. It’s meant to be played in a small room with your head right up against it. As soon as you stop making noises with your hands, the noise goes away. With electric, a lot of times less is much more, and with acoustic, a medium amount is a medium amount.
With this new record, I’m going to do it with drums, so I’ve been messing around with pickups on electrics and … I don’t want to say effects, but ways to expand the breadth of the sound, get a little bit of that electric expanse, but still treating it like it’s an acoustic. That’s been a fun and interesting pursuit.
How does collaborating with other musicians push you musically?
I have a little home studio setup, but I love going to the studio. I love there being, “This is the time that we’re making the record. What happens, happens.” I think that urgency puts you into a superpower mode. Also the camaraderie. There is truly no substitute for live chemistry. AI can try all it wants, but it will never get it. The communication and sound that happens … there’s so much subconscious and physical factors that are changing constantly. You can’t substitute it.
I love the element of not trying to perfect things, of a record being a snapshot in time. Treating it that way helps you bring your A-game because it’s, “I need to be able to do this at any given time.” It makes you focus on delivering a performance, crossing all your T’s and dotting your I’s, so that it’s all there when it’s time to push “play,” or when it’s time to play with other people, or time to get in front of people.
What snapshot does Badlettsville represent?
The tunes weren’t created or arranged with the idea that they’d be on a record, so in some ways it’s like a snapshot of the live show I’ve been doing over the last couple of years. It’s really organic in that regard.
All these arrangements came about from playing live, specifically with Paul Kowert and Patrick M’Gonigle. Patrick’s been playing a lot of shows with me, and Paul is my BFF partner in crime in Hawktail and beyond, so it represents my relationship with those two guys in a big way.
Also my interests, the fact that there’s cover songs by Randy Newman and Bob Dylan. If I had to pick my two favorite songwriters, it would be them. It’s a snapshot in time of the manner in which I’m playing and thinking about music and the people I’m doing it with right now.
Artist:Wayne Graham Hometown: Whitesburg, Kentucky Latest Album:Bastion
What’s the toughest time you ever had writing a song?
The enemy of creation, for me, is judgment. I often superimpose other peoples’ suspected judgments onto something I’m working on, before I’ve written anything down. The true work is in letting go of that fear. When I am in a good flow, I am like a child. I am totally swept up in imagining the possibilities and that ride feels like communion with something much bigger than myself. I hope that doesn’t sound grandiose, I am just left feeling very grateful.
What has been the best advice you’ve received in your career so far?
Dave Prince – or Laid Back Country Picker – told me once that, “The world is real big, and real cool.” Trusting this to be true leaves a lot of room for pretty much everything to be OK. Not that there aren’t horrendous things happening everyday, but maybe most people are on the side of wanting things to be good and they’re just doing the best they know how at any given point. Maybe it’s naive, but it’s definitely not cynical.
Genre is dead (long live genre!), but how would you describe the genres and styles your music inhabits?
Genres are great if we’re looking to make broad categories that point to a recognizable aspect of a piece of work, but they start to lose their meaning when they come with their own dogmas. In other words, a genre should be used to contextualize a work, not as a frame to create a work within. That being said, we don’t discriminate along genre lines in what we listen to and draw from. We also hope our music is infused with the best parts of what we listen to, so hopefully we end up in a place we couldn’t have planned to go.
How often do you hide behind a character in a song or use “you” when it’s actually “me”?
I think the songs that make the cut for us are the songs where we’re not hiding. But that doesn’t mean the “you” or “I” is always used in a first person way. Oftentimes the “you” in my songs is “me” and the narrator is someone with a helpful perspective. Sometimes we put on characters to inhabit a lesser known part of ourselves that may have something cool to say, sometimes we just write what’s on our mind without needing it to mean anything.
If you didn’t work in music, what would you do instead?
Our mom retired a few years ago from teaching at a public school. It’s a job that has so much impact, and is so thankless, and I have so much respect for the people who do it for the right reasons. Our mom took the job very seriously, and so I saw what a struggle it could be at times, but it is really the only other job I’ve ever considered.
Songs can be truly short short stories. There is so little time, so little space to convey a complete narrative. That challenge has always thrilled us when crafting our music. When we were asked to create a themed playlist for The Bluegrass Situation, I thought through our own songs that formed the new album Close Enough to Hear (out February 3) and wondered what common thread tied them together. Many of them really are conveying a story, something with a beginning, middle and end. We all went back to our favorite short story songs and marveled at the writers’ ability to forge a genuine drama, with a plot and characters, inciting events and climaxes, in just a few short minutes. It’s a high wire act, where every single word counts and nothing can be wasted. Here’s a list of our favorite short story songs. — Evan Murphy (acoustic guitar), Mile Twelve
This song makes me emotional every time I hear it. Bruce delivers this Billy Bragg song so powerfully and honestly, giving it a distinctly American flavor. – Nate Sabat (upright bass)
I was recently turned on to Bobbie Gentry through the Cocaine and Rhinestones podcast by Tyler Mahan Coe (highly recommended) and stumbled on this song while checking out her catalog. She’s done such an incredible job painting a musical representation of that longing, wishing feeling of wanting to be included. And on a dorkier note, listen to how the phrasing of the hook is different on line one of the chorus than it is on line four. So, so good. — Nate
Our good friends of the duo Tattletale Saints are excellent songwriters from New Zealand, now based in Nashville. This song about Little Richard has beautiful, clear imagery that pulls you right into the song. It’s a mellow performance, not trying too hard and resulting in a memorable story about a unique Nashville music legend. – BB Bowness (banjo)
This haunting a cappella song written by Jean Ritchie is sung from the wife’s point of view as she awaits news of her husband’s fate down in the mine. The song captures the anxiety and uncertainty she feels while she imagines a possible future without her husband. — BB
A dozen cheap roses in a shopping cart, veins through the skin like a faded tattoo. Isbell’s tight, sparse images bloom into vignettes which form a complete story by the end of this song. A man has reached the limits of his patience with a stagnant life. His father lays dying in the ICU, he has no prospects, nothing to stay for. After long years, he finally decides to pack it up and break free. When I am in a period of writing I actually can’t listen to songs this good. They torment me with their lean, sinewy perfection. To use Isbell’s own language, there is no fat on these lyrics. Everybody knows you in a speed trap town. — Evan
“My name’s Joe Roberts, I work for the state” might as well be “Call me Ishmael.” For me, this is the quintessential short story song. There are major motion pictures with plots less deep. It’s the struggle between two brothers, Joe and Frankie, one a state trooper and the other a struggling veteran who can’t seem to stay out of trouble. “I got a brother named Frankie, and Frankie ain’t no good,” sings Joe. Maybe it’s the fact that I have two older brothers, but when Joe watches Frankie’s taillights disappear across the border I cry, even after hundreds of listens. “I musta done a 110 through Michigan County that night.” How desperate was Joe to catch Frankie, to save him from himself? This song has taught me so much about musical storytelling. Springsteen is larger than life, for me and so many others. I wish I could open the back of his head and see how he does it. Thank God we have his music, it’s sacred. — Evan
“Caleb Meyer, he lived alone in them hollerin’ pines” opens this exquisitely brutal ghost story. Gillian Welch has reshaped the very structure of modern folk songwriting. She and David Rawlings prove that when the song, the vocals and the playing are flawless you really don’t need anything more. “Caleb Meyer” is a haunting murder ballad. A woman fights for her life, finding a broken bottle to slash the throat of her would-be rapist. I am in that room with her when I listen to this, the hair standing up straight on the back of my neck. It’s a full-fledged Western, and she does it in three damn minutes. She is a force of nature. — Evan
The lives of Prine’s characters are smaller and simpler than the legends of epic folk ballads. There’s no steam drill, no six shooters, no gallows at dawn. It’s just Loretta, Davie and Rudy, a back porch, a TV that plays the same old news. This is Prine’s genius, making the mundane transcendent in its beauty and its tragedy. It’s like watching modern human life itself dancing on top of his gorgeous finger-picked eighth notes. He was one of our great American prophets, observing, critiquing, reflecting, teaching. He is missed so dearly. — Evan
“‘If this was the Cold War, we could keep each other warm,’ I said on the first occasion that I met Marie.” Ritter is a favorite of novelist Stephen King. It’s not surprising, given the literary grandeur of his songwriting. The strange, post-apocalyptic tale of Marie and the missile silo transfixed me when I first heard it. It’s more mesmerizing with each repeat listen. How does someone create a world so fully realized, so convincing, with such simple tools at their disposal? What a gorgeously weird tale. — Evan
When I was younger, I had four or five Bob Wills CDs that were pretty much on repeat for my whole childhood. This Cindy Walker song was on a couple of them, and every time I heard that fiddle intro, it would stop me in my tracks. I’d sit there completely absorbed in the stark, dusty imagery. This song is lyrically and musically as simple as it gets, but it packs a heavy emotional punch. When this song was recorded by Bob in 1941, the Dust Bowl was barely history, and I can feel the pain it caused in every beat. You don’t always need fancy chords and poetry to make a statement—sometimes you just need a semi-natural disaster. — Ella Jordan (fiddle)
How can you have a playlist without a Joni Mitchell song? The oppressively ordinary yet starkly evocative imagery in the second half (only Joni can put a dishwasher in a song) somehow reminds me a little of some of Lucia Berlin’s writing. This is one of those songs that if you had never heard anybody sing it and you just read the lyrics, it would still be a beautiful poem. One that takes you on a journey, and makes you feel things. One that makes you question your life choices. We all hope it’s only a phase, these dark café days…. – Ella
This is one of my favorite songs from Randy Newman. He sings about traveling around the United States as a child of a Jewish immigrant family in an attempt to find a home and live the American Dream. He deals with themes such as privilege and the issue of losing one’s culture while assimilating. This is the story of many families during the end of the 19th century and beginning of the 20th and continues to be a relatable topic today. – Korey Brodsky (mandolin)
Songwriter Unknown, Recorded by Hazel & Alice – “Two Soldiers”
The story of two Union soldiers during the Civil War who promise each other they will bring news back to their families if one of them does not make it through the battle. The imagery of war is vivid and the storytelling is masterful. Hazel & Alice bring this one to life in their incredible version. — Korey
Artist:Cory Branan Hometown: Memphis, Tennessee Song: “Pocket of God” Album:When I Go I Ghost Release Date: October 14, 2022 Label: Blue Élan Records
In Their Words: “I tried to get as much of a story as I could in there, with someone in the hot seat. You don’t know who he’s singing to until the end, and it’s a story of what happened to someone he cared deeply about. That song began as a sweet line about somebody thinking he picked the pocket of God to have met someone, and I thought, ‘That’s too Hallmark,’ so I tried to balance it with a Raymond Carver sensibility, where definitions aren’t the same for everyone, where the narrator is untrustworthy. I’m a big fan of Randy Newman, the songwriter king of untrustworthy narrators. And this song is an exception on the album in that I didn’t try to counteract the dark lyrics with brighter music. I stayed there, I painted an open void, then kept the music staring right there with me. The string arrangement helps with that — put the headphones on to hear the ear candy in those layered strings from Matt Combs! And that’s Spencer Cullum (Steelism) on steel guitar holding drone notes through the whole thing.” — Cory Branan
To me, the idea of the joyful contrarian is synonymous with being an artist. Joyful because on some level the creative person’s pursuit is to get high and stay high, to chase the spark that sets your soul on fire; contrarian because artists go their own way. The artist’s work may reinforce or defy social norms but either way the connection is coincidental.
These are a few of the songs, artists, and contrarians who have inspired me. — Korby Lenker
Doc Watson – “Country Blues”
Doc is a reliable tastemaker of enduring songs, but his interpretation of the Dock Boggs classic stands apart. Something uncharacteristically sour in it. Watson usually moves through happier vistas — as in say “Ramblin’ Hobo” or “Froggie Went A-Courtin’.” But here his rueful tenor slaps against a clawhammer banjo and the mood is plaintive, down spirited, and harrowing as shallow grave.
Sierra Ferrell – “Bells of Every Chapel”
In love with this Appalachian Queen of modern yesteryear. She can belt, growl and chuckle inside the same song and still leave you with a lump in your throat. Plus that strong bent of humor and just plain orneriness. Is that a word? Sierra is funny and she’s been doing it her own way since she started. Joyful contrarian incarnate.
Nina Simone – “I Wish I Knew How It Would Feel to Be Free”
I could have chosen a dozen Nina Simone songs. The playfully saccharine “Sugar in My Bowl” might have been a good choice, but there’s a performance from when she was older, well into her activist chapter, where she plays this version of “I Wish I Knew How It Would Feel to Be Free” live at the Montreaux Jazz Festival. It was 1976. The musicianship is effortless, playful even as she sings that lyric of doleful, unfulfilled desire. But the real magic is toward the end. It’s as close as you’ll ever get to watching someone’s spirit wrestle with angels and demons inside. Electrifying.
Bill Miller – “Ghostdance”
I got to know Bill Miller over the last few years, I guess during the pandemic. He sang and played Native American flute on one of my songs. A soft spoken humble man with three Grammys and a life of music behind and in front of him, he is absolutely himself wherever he goes. I’ve watched him bring a room full of Nashville cool kids to tears with his singing. For this studio version of “Ghostdance,” he bussed several members of his tribe down from Wisconsin to a Music Row recording studio. He told me the engineer didn’t know how to mic a tribal drum encircled with elders. It got a little wild. I’m trying to think of a way to put Bill’s relationship with music. Blind to judgment, it’s something like that.
Jerry Garcia and David Grisman – “Teddy Bear Picnic”
Picked this one because it’s an outlier in an outlier’s repertoire. Jerry Garcia did not give a shit who sang what or why. For him a song was good or it wasn’t. “Teddy Bear’s Picnic” from Not for Kids Only is a children’s tune written and originally performed by Henry Hall over a hundred years ago. It’s uplifting and a little sinister at the same time. Plus the chords are magic. I play it sometimes in my own shows.
Robert Ellis – “California”
Writing these blurb things, I notice that most of the artists I’m drawn to are accomplished musicians as well as being great songwriters. Robert Ellis is among the best. He’s like, maybe too good for his own good. At home on piano or guitar, he can reference more musicians and songs than you, and he does this thing I really like with his albums where every song is a moment, its own little movie. This one, “California,” is a slow-motion explosion from the years in his life before he calmed down a little.
Adam Hurt – “Flannery’s Dream”
This was my most listened to album of 2019. Ten tracks of solo gourd banjo, interpreted by a introverted master of the niche. I spend a lot of time with instrumental music. Wordless emotions hit different. I defy you to find anything in the string music lexicon as inventive and emotive as Hurt’s solo music. It’s banjo as high art. Especially this album, Earth Tones.
Anaïs Mitchell – “Brooklyn Bridge”
More widely known as the creator of 2019’s Tony Award-winning musical Hadestown, Anaïs Mitchell has been making the most inventive music in folk for two decades. Her album Young Man In America is my favorite record of the last ten years. I chose this track from her 2022 eponymous release because it’s a perfect example of deep sentiment couched in well-turned phrases matched with one of the more unique singing voices in the business.
Lou Reed – “Perfect Day”
Lou Reed, helming The Velvet Underground in the ’60s, was really the first artist to make music devoid of or without regard to commercial appeal. The original contrarian of art house rock, his songs explored heroin addiction, transgenderism, art for its own sake, and love. During his solo career, collaborations with Andy Warhol and composer John Cage cemented his status as a dissonant God of the avant-garde. “Perfect Day” is from his later catalogue. Sweet and small and sad. You probably know it from the movie Trainspotting.
Randy Newman – “Marie”
Randy Newman is an artist of intimidating powers. Another master musician and songwriter and curmudgeonly iconoclast. Watch his Tiny Desk Concert and see what happens to you. Setting aside his singular piano style with its striding left hand and those constantly tumbling suspensions, the songwriting is pure emotion when he wants it to be, derisive if the mood strikes him, or, in the case of “You’ve Got a Friend in Me” (which he penned), the soundtrack of your childhood. “Marie” is my favorite song of his. Listen to the solo piano version on The Randy Newman Songbook Vol. 1.
Jimmie Rodgers – “Blue Yodel No. 9”
Hard to find a contrarian with more joy than the Singin’ Brakeman, who died from tuberculosis at the height of his fame at the age of 35. I would describe “Blue Yodel No. 9” as charmingly incorrigible. Something that might’ve made a decent Depression-era mother cover her children’s ears. Little known fact: his longtime songwriting partner, who cowrote more than 40 of his songs, was his sister-in-law, Elsie McWilliams.
James McMurtry – “Long Island Sound”
Joyful contrarian or talented asshole? Both probably. I maybe should have selected his paean to North Texas methamphetamine culture, “Choctaw Bingo,” as the most contrarian, but I picked this one, the last track from his fantastic 2016 record, Complicated Game. I like this one best because it’s about making peace with where you’re at in life, maybe even celebrating the spot where you land: “These are the best days / These are the best days / Boys put your money away / I got the round / Here’s to all you strangers / the Mets and the Rangers / Long may we thrive on the Long Island Sound.”
Born in a logging town in Washington state, Clark started playing guitar at age 9 before setting it aside and getting a scholarship for basketball. Music kept tugging her back in though. Like a modern Patsy Cline, she has a knack for nailing a heartbreaker. Reba recorded two of her songs in (“Cry,” “The Day She Got Divorced”) and Brandy soon found a valuable mentor in Marty Stuart, who helped her make her Opry debut in 2012.
While you may just be learning about Clark’s stellar solo work, which mixes old school and witty new school country with some of the tightest pop hooks in the game, Clark has been co-writing for some of country and rock’s leading ladies for years, like Miranda Lambert, Kacey Musgraves, LeAnn Rimes and Sheryl Crow to name a few. But it was with her lyrically masterful, lushly-orchestrated 2020 LP Your Life Is A Record that doors started opening in a whole new way. 2021 saw an extended deluxe version drop.
In this unearthed conversation (blame a faulty hard-drive), we go through her darkest breakup songs, hear about her tastiest kiss-offs and discuss her unique perspective of Nashville’s Music Row Boys’ Club.
Don’t miss the end of the taping when Brandy discusses teaming up with her songwriting hero Randy Newman on the cheeky tune “Bigger Boat” and she plays an exclusive acoustic performance.
This episode of The Show On The Road is brought to you by WYLD Gallery: an Austin, Texas-based art gallery that exclusively features works by Native American artists. Find unique gifts for your loved ones this holiday season and support Indigenous artists at the same time. Pieces at all price points are available at wyld.gallery.
I’m not sure what it is about this era that has permanently ensnared my soul. Perhaps the raw, confessional nature of the troubadour has always reassured me that I am not alone. These are the songs that made me abandon my fine art career at the age of 18 and embark on a lifelong quest to appease the songwriting gods. The fact that all of these songs can be fully delivered with one instrument and one voice has always amazed and inspired me. It was wonderful to record a few of these classics on my current EP, Seventies Roots, part of a double album of covers that I’m releasing in February 2022 called Forget-Me-Nots. — Jesse Terry
Joni Mitchell – “A Case of You”
Was there any doubt it would start with Joni and a song off her masterpiece, Blue? I put Joni in a Jimi Hendrix-type category, where it feels like the artist was transported from outer space, in perfect revolutionary form. Her songs, chord progressions, lyrics and vocals have always been otherworldly to me. It was thrilling to record this song on my Seventies Roots EP. Actually it was intimidating, but in the end I love the song too much not to do it.
James Taylor – “Fire and Rain”
The blueprint for confessional, honest songwriting. It’s awesome to hear JT tell the story behind the song and know that he put every last personal detail into his lyrics. This inspired me to be vulnerable and completely open in my writing. Nobody sings or plays like JT. And to this day, if I’m having a rough go of it, I blast his records and let that warm voice console me.
Jackson Browne – “For a Dancer”
Another true original with an unmatched voice and sense of melody. I think Jackson is without a doubt one of the best lyricists of all time. His lyrics and melodies flow effortlessly off the tongue and never tire.
Bruce Springsteen – “Growin’ Up”
Springsteen is a legendary rocker and performer. But what really impresses me about the Boss is his songwriting. All of his anthems can be stripped down to an acoustic guitar and still deliver with the same emotion. There aren’t many songwriters that can paint pictures like Springsteen. With him, you’re not just listening to the song, you’re IN the song or maybe even one of the characters.
Carole King – “Will You Love Me Tomorrow”?
Like all of the truly great songwriters, her songs transcend and feel universal and timeless. This song feels perfect, whether you’re listening to Carole’s version or The Shirelles.
Tom Waits – “Shiver Me Timbers”
A truly masterful and utterly unique songwriter. Waits writes about characters and tells stories better than anyone. His lyrics and penchant for perfect timing are well-known, but I also adore Tom Waits’ gift for melody and harmony. His melodies break my heart and are married flawlessly to the lyrics.
Paul Simon – “American Tune”
If you created a singer-songwriter in a lab it would be Paul Simon. Some of the most endearing lyrics and melodies of all time. His songs are so perfect, it’s easy to overlook his guitar playing and singing, which are equally remarkable. Music schools often try to dissect his songs to display the craft of songwriting, but I get the sense that this magic simply flowed out of him.
Elton John – “Mona Lisas and Mad Hatters”
Over the years, some very talented folks have sent me lyrics and poetry to set to music and I’ve always been disappointed with my results. That makes me even more knocked out by Elton John’s ability to marry Bernie Taupin’s lyrics to the most perfect melodies, tempos and chord progressions. I recorded “Goodbye Yellow Brick Road” on my Seventies Roots EP, but I easily could have chosen “Mona Lisas and Mad Hatters,” or any number of tunes. Way too many great options to choose from.
Neil Young – “Comes a Time”
What songwriter list would be complete without Neil Young? Neil is raw unfiltered emotion, live to analog tape with no rewriting or editing. That makes him so special. I can’t think of another songwriter that can cover so much ground with such authenticity.
Randy Newman – “Marie”
Randy Newman is a genius. His character-based songs are on the same level as Tom Waits and his lyrics are just as evocative, biting and unique. It’s impossibly rare to find Newman’s talents as an orchestrator and arranger in the body of a singer-songwriter. “Marie” especially breaks my heart. I believe every word Randy Newman sings.
Townes Van Zandt – “No Place to Fall”
A mythical figure in songwriting, Townes wrote some of the most beautiful and enduring songs of all time. “No Place to Fall” has always spoken to me and broken my heart. Was an honor to record this one.
Bob Dylan – “Simple Twist of Fate”
I admit, as a young kid I was more seduced by the “singers” in this group — artists like Joni, James and Jackson that could sing the phone book. But eventually I became spellbound by Dylan and my affection for him has never waned since. And as I listened more in my life, I realized what an amazing singer and communicator he was. His phrasing, his lyrics, his melodies and his hooks convey the lyrics perfectly. There will never be another Dylan.
Loggins & Messina – “Danny’s Song”
Kenny Loggins went on to have a huge solo career, but the music that he released in the ‘70s with Jim Messina in Loggins & Messina will always be my favorite work. My father used to sing this song to me when I was a kid and it felt like he wrote it for me.
Stevie Wonder – “Love’s in Need of Love Today”
Admittedly my playlist is Laurel Canyon-heavy and that’s what inspired me the most. But I also remember Stevie blaring through speakers as I was growing up. Again, one of the classic singer-songwriters that will never be replaced nor imitated. One in a billion. And on top of that, one of the best, most flexible voices of all time.
Crosby, Stills, Nash & Young – “Our House”
I’ll end my playlist with this classic song that transports you to another time and place. You can almost smell the flowers blooming in this song.
Artist:Noel McKay Hometown: My hometown is really the little Central Texas Hill Country community of Pipe Creek. I currently live in Nashville, Tennessee. Latest album:Blue, Blue, Blue Personal Nicknames: I think that in the US, Noel is a sufficiently unusual name that I never really got a nickname. It’s a fairly common name in the UK, as it turns out.
Which artist has influenced you the most… and how?
The artist that influenced me the most is Guy Clark. Guy took a shine to one of my songs when I was a young songwriter. He did a lot of nice things for me and I won’t ever forget it. As I began to dig into his catalog, I realized the depth of his work. Of course, I will never live up to the expectations that come from being spoken about favorably by such an amazing writer but, every day, I try to anyway.
Since food and music go so well together, what is your dream pairing of a meal and a musician?
With the pairing of food and music in mind, I would love to sit and eat Cajun food with Lucinda Williams somewhere in the Atchafalaya Basin. So much of her work has had a huge impact on me.
What was the first moment that you knew you wanted to be a musician?
The moment I knew I wanted to be a performing songwriter was when I was 11 or 12 and hearing Randy Newman’s records Sail Away and Good Old Boys. The very sharp expressions of his worldview really appealed to me and made me feel like it was possible to sing about something besides hedonism. Up to that point, the TV show WKRP in Cincinnati had been showing me a sort of cartoonish example what musicians were supposed to be like.
What rituals do you have, either in the studio or before a show?
I have a few rituals in the recording studio. When cutting basics, I find that it’s best to avoid caffeine for the purposes of keeping a relaxed vibe. When singing, I do lots of breathing and drink tons of water. When in mixing, I like to have books with lots of pictures, i.e., vintage guitars, famous painters’ works, sculpture, archaeology, things that allow me to be partially distracted so that my ear remains engaged, but I don’t micromanage or obsess over a small part of the bigger song picture.
If you had to write a mission statement for your career, what would it be?
If there’s a mission statement for my career, it is this: “You Do It Or You Don’t.” I’ve tried both.
Photo credit: Aisha Golliher
This website uses cookies to improve your experience. We'll assume you're ok with this, but you can opt-out if you wish.AcceptRead More
Privacy & Cookies Policy
Privacy Overview
This website uses cookies to improve your experience while you navigate through the website. Out of these, the cookies that are categorized as necessary are stored on your browser as they are essential for the working of basic functionalities of the website. We also use third-party cookies that help us analyze and understand how you use this website. These cookies will be stored in your browser only with your consent. You also have the option to opt-out of these cookies. But opting out of some of these cookies may affect your browsing experience.
Necessary cookies are absolutely essential for the website to function properly. This category only includes cookies that ensures basic functionalities and security features of the website. These cookies do not store any personal information.
Any cookies that may not be particularly necessary for the website to function and is used specifically to collect user personal data via analytics, ads, other embedded contents are termed as non-necessary cookies. It is mandatory to procure user consent prior to running these cookies on your website.
