Tag: R&B

Dreamy Folk Artist Satya Looks Back and Moves Forward

Posted on by Justin Hiltner

The release of a debut album is a momentous accomplishment for an artist. For singer-songwriter Satya, the June 5 arrival of her first full-length, Yellow House, also represents the culmination of a long and emotional journey.

A Bay Area native who recently moved to Los Angeles, Satya initially started writing the songs for this album in early 2020, with the soon-arriving pandemic serving to provide her time to work on her music along with delving into her own journals, where she explored her feelings involving growing up in a household that was both abusive and loving.

The songs on Yellow House certainly reflect this duality of emotions. Her lyrics touch upon moments of madness, darkness, and desertion, while also offering up the possibility of escape and survival. Her singing holds an alluring calmness even as she’s addressing some highly charged topics. The album’s laid-back music, which combines elements of neo-soul, dreamy folk, hushed blues, and smokey jazz, serves to support her subdued vocals, creating an inviting, enveloping sound. The blending of musical styles suits someone who has played in Nashville’s Ryman Auditorium, sung (and lived) in New Orleans, and performed at San Francisco JazzFest and Hardly Strictly Bluegrass back on her Bay Area home turf.

Satya, following some work with another producer, recorded Yellow House back around 2023 with noted blues guitarist/producer Colin Linden (Keb’ Mo’, T Bone Burnett, Bruce Cockburn) at his home studio in Nashville. When she spoke with BGS, she talked about Linden’s important contributions to the record – as well as the significance of covering Lucinda Williams’ “Fruits of My Labor” and the Grateful Dead’s “Box of Rain,” the influence of Mazzy Star, and how the release of Yellow House is both a proud moment and a bittersweet one.

How did this album, Yellow House, come together?

Satya: I started writing this project in 2020. The first song I started with was “Circles.” Then the pandemic hit. I was going through a lot at the time with family stuff. I really started writing a lot of the songs for myself.

It was something that I was working on. Then the years would go by and I would kind of put it down and work on a side project. This one always just felt so personal that I wanted it to feel right, and I wanted it to really capture sonically what I wanted.

Do you feel that your sound evolved from your prior EPs (2022’s Deep Blue and 2020’s Flourish Against Fracture) or is more like a continuation of your earlier work?

This album feels like a continuation of [my] first EP I released, in a way, sonically. … I have other stuff out that definitely feels more like soul- and R&B-forward. This one, I feel like, went back into the folky, more Americana style. I don’t even think it was kind of subconscious. It was just the songs that were happening sounded that way. And I think it definitely captures a sound that I just naturally gravitate towards.

One thing that I really loved about the album was the way your singing and the instrumentation floated harmoniously with each other – and I was wondering how you achieved this airy, lived-in feeling?

That’s a good question. I know what sounds I’m drawn to. I reference Mazzy Star a lot for this project. I’ve always kind of felt listening to her, [Mazzy Star lead singer Hope Sandoval] and listening to that band, there’s a whole world that you get sucked into sonically.

This album really is based off of my past and [is] kind of a world. So, I felt like I wanted to create that same spatial sonic feeling. I think, for me, what draws me into those spaces, I think I’ve just taken notes of other artists that I love. And I love slide guitar a lot. I love the organ. I love the Rhodes. I love things that feel like reverb or taking up space.

I grew up singing in choirs and church. So, being in a wide room and hearing sounds bounce off the wall, I really wanted to make sure that the tracks felt not too airbrushed. I wanted everything to feel very raw and, you know, some things are one take.

Colin also definitely had to remind me, too – because I like to contradict myself – as much as I love everything sounding raw, I’m a]perfectionist. So, if we’re going to do it in one take, I need to do a hundred takes. But he was very good, I think, at kind of sifting through and just like allowing things to be.

How did you get together with Colin Linden as your producer?

I met him like two years before we actually recorded the album. I connected with him through my manager, Phil Green, who used to work with an artist named Fantastic Negrito. And I believe Fantastic Negrito had been working with Colin Linden. So, he was recommended to me. At the time I was living in New Orleans, too. So, I was like, “Okay, Nashville is close.” And I made my way out there.

Actually, one of the songs on the project, “Heaven’s Cry,” we just wrote that day – the first time I met him. Then, a few years later, we brought the album to him.

How big of a contribution did he make on the album?

He is a huge part of how the sound came out, and just like how the album came out. First of all, his studio is like my dream studio. He has a home studio in the back of his house. It’s like separate, through his backyard. It’s beautiful. And he just collects so many vintage, old guitars, mics and equipment.

I really just loved his approach, too, because a lot of these songs I came with were fully written. A lot of [what he did] was just kind of restructuring [the songs] or him taking the lead with rearranging.

We spent a week. I flew out to Nashville. We recorded every day, and it just felt really organic. I think that’s also why I really gravitated towards working with him. I just really loved his approach to music and also just his passion for it.

I don’t like using a lot of auto-tune or things on my voice. I really love performing live and I also love performing with a band – just having the live instrumentation… Colin loves live tracking and bringing in instrumentalists and all of that. So, yeah, I just gravitated towards working with him and it just felt really comfortable.

There was a lot of live tracking during the week you were at his studio?

Yeah, definitely. I brought the vocal stems to him. I had kind of recorded all these songs with a different producer, and then we put it down. So, I brought all the stems with me. Some stuff I already had tracked, but some of the stuff we fully reopened. He’s all over it playing slide guitar. His wife actually was playing organ on a lot of the tracks. We brought in an amazing bassist who is playing upright on some of it and a live drummer. So, we definitely had a lot of live tracking.

How significant was it to have done some work with Colin before getting into the studio with him?

I think I was very used to – especially because of the pandemic – being in my own studio and being kind of isolated with writing, which I think there’s a lot of beauty in, too. But that was the first time in a long time where it was just a full week dedicated to just “the art.” And I think that was really special.

The song “Circles” was the first one that you recorded, and did that song show you a way into the album and led to the songs connecting with each other?

Yeah, definitely. I wrote “Circles” and it just kind of sparked all the other songs – and just the concept, too, I think. “Circles” just opened up the idea; it felt like that song was needed to be next to others. “Circles” definitely felt like, sonically, “Oh, okay, this sound feels really nice.” And I think it kind of creates the world for all the other songs to live in.

The album contains two covers – Lucinda Williams’ “Fruits of My Labor” and the Grateful Dead’s “Box of Rain.” How did they become part of this album?

When I perform covers, I try my best to embody the song or embody the lyrics and tie them to my own feelings.

Well, “Fruits of My Labor” – I loved that song forever and ever. I didn’t plan to have that on the album. It was the first day that I came to Colin’s house. I had been covering that song [since] when I was doing small tours with my band. We were doing an arrangement of it, I played it for Colin, and he was like, “Okay, so we’re tracking that right now!” I was listening to that song so much after the pandemic and her lyrics just really stuck with me.

And then “Box of Rain”… that was another song that I had covered. My grandfather, he loves that song a lot. I grew up listening to it and I just love the lyrics. I wanted to add it on the album too, just because the whole album is around my family. “Box of Rain” really reflects to me just so much beauty, as well, in my family. When I hear that song, it just reminds me of a lot of the joy and a lot of the sweetness. So, I wanted to add that too.

When did this week of recording take place?

I think it was 2023.

So, it has taken some time to get it all done?

Yeah, I took a while for sure. You know, if I lived in Nashville, after that week, I could have gone back and listened to everything. But a lot of it was kind of one and done, so it was a lot of him sending me tons of different forms of the mixes and me writing feedback and going back and forth – getting the project mixed and mastered, and then everything else around it. But, yeah, it was a long time coming.

It must be really an emotional experience to have these songs finally coming out?

Yeah, it definitely is. It feels like a mixture of emotions for sure, because I’ve sat on these songs for so long. I think it’s just like – with a lot of musicians, I’ve heard and I’ve always felt this way – by the time a song is ready to release, I’ve already heard it a thousand times and I wrote it years ago. A lot of these songs were heavier, so they were a way for me to process everything I was feeling. It definitely feels like a release to be able to just finally let it all go and give it away.

I feel like I had to really take a step back when this project was done and just look at my own personal life over the last six years – and how much I think I’ve grown and overcome and a lot of things I feel have healed. It feels like, I think, a lot of things at once. I think I feel very proud and also very bittersweet from that time.

I think that also just writing this project kind of showed me the power in music and art, and how much it can bring, and cultivate so much healing, and connection with other people even. Like the conversations just kind of sparked by sharing these stories have been really special. But at the same time, I’m going to be unwrapping a lot of this stuff forever and I think it will always spiral outward, you know.

Photo Credit: Lola Lankford

Hudson Westbrook Is Ready for What’s Next

Posted on by Justin Hiltner

It was not so long ago that Hudson Westbrook was in college at Texas Tech. But today, he’s one of the most promising and hard-to-pin-down young acts in country, helping pull Texan artistic independence into the mainstream.

Joining trailblazing stars like Cody Johnson and Parker McCollum, Westbrook celebrated his first Number One in February after finding a home for “House Again” on the Mediabase country radio chart. Also certified Platinum by the RIAA, it’s more evidence of a shift away from cookie-cutter tailgate anthems: an emotionally complex ballad rooted in the experience of a kid watching the fallout of their parents’ divorce.

Westbrook paired raw lyrical nerve with a soulful, tender touch, helping the newcomer tally one billion streams in 18 months, with an exponential growing profile – and then he switched things up.

His recently released Exclusive EP features five tracks awash in rootsy R&B, proving the 21-year-old won’t be held to a narrow interpretation of Red Dirt musicality. But he’s not satisfied there, either. His new radio single “Painted You Pretty” (from the debut album Texas Forever) matches country simplicity with an earnest romantic hook, and this summer he’ll tour arenas and stadiums with Bailey Zimmerman, Morgan Wallen, and one of his heroes, George Strait.

Speaking with Good Country at an East Nashville coffeeshop – just one day after meeting a pig on the podcast of his other hero, Tracy Lawrence – the fresh-faced star looks ahead to new music and shares his impression on what’s driving the Texas-and-traditional country resurgence. Barely two years into a rocket ride of a professional career, he’s still learning the ropes, and sometimes, the lingo. But Hudson Westbrook has all the artistic confidence he’ll ever need.

We last talked in 2024 and at the time you were just out of college. The only thing you had released was “Take It Slow,” and then “House Again” came out. How have things changed?

Yeah, I was working at that feed store and it wasn’t that long ago. I’d written “House Again” and then I just remember I was so confused as to what was going on. Now I look up and I’m like, “I was blowing up the whole time.” I didn’t realize how big it was getting. It’s hard to feel it. I’d be like “Hey y’all, is 5,000 tickets good here?” And they’re like, “Do you realize what you just did?” And I’m always like “… No.” [Laughs]

I’m getting bigger and bigger and bigger and bigger. I want to keep getting bigger, but I want to keep it small. So [lately] it’s just really been focusing on doing that. Not losing yourself. Focusing on grounding myself right now, making sure I’m calling my family and whatever it might be. And then also it’s celebrating it, too.

You just had the Number One [with “House Again”]. What’d you do to celebrate?

We were in Hawaii, so we drank – I don’t know – 15 margaritas? [Laughs] The coolest part about that song is it was my second co-write and I was like, “Yo, I don’t know what I’m doing.” [Co-writers Dan Alley and Neil Medley] said, “Well, what’s your hook?” I said, “What’s a hook?” And they started laughing. I’m like, “Bro, I don’t know what the hell that is, but I had this idea.” …

So it just blew up. And I was so scared, just because it’s saying goodbye to a lot of stuff, honestly. It all happened so fast. If anyone had to have someone explain to them how to deal with a fast moment, I’d say if their songs are working, slow down.

Really? What do you mean?

Because that was a song that was for me. I was like, “I’m writing these songs I love and they’re ready by the time that we need them, so throw them out there.” And, “I’m already in Nashville, so let’s film the music video.” We never really planned on dropping anything, which is kind of crazy. I wish I would’ve slowed down a little bit and then realized what was happening so I could soak it in. It’s still happening. It’s still great. But I would just tell people, maybe slow down if it’s happening that fast. I feel like a lot of times I didn’t know who Hudson Westbrook was when I put songs out. And now I’ve sat down and we recorded four songs on Monday and I’m like, “This is the vibe. This is what we’re doing.” It’s so refreshing.

You’re going to be sharing a stadium stage with George Strait [at Jones AT&T Stadium in Lubbock, Texas on April 25]. That’s a homecoming show and I know he means a lot to you, so how does that make you feel?

That’s where I went to college. I sat on the 50-yard line since I was 7 years old, watched every single football game at [Texas] Tech, watched every single concert, listened to George Strait since I was in the womb. It was “Check Yes or No.” It was “Troubadour.” It was “The Fireman.” All that was in my house from an early age. So I don’t know, it’s just crazy. It’s a little nerve-wracking, like who knows what’s going to happen? I’ve also never played a stadium yet. All my friends are going to be there. It’s just going to be weird.

I would say there are some similarities between you and George Strait and maybe that’s just because of your background. You’ve been traveling around, have you noticed a difference in country music depending on where you are?

I go to Florida and [the fans are] screaming the most Texas country song I have. And Texas country just means that production. It’s a view of writing and it’s a perspective. I use real drums. The biggest country music artists in the world don’t use real drums right now. That changes everything. And so now we got to be like, “How can we be different than everything else?” I think that’s by being natural, in a sense.

There’s definitely a moment happening for Texas country, bluegrass, and traditional roots, with Zach Top and some more of your peers. Is it just perfect timing for you?

I think we’re pushing it into that direction because I think we’re trying to get back what we wanted to hear. I know if I talk to Zach, he’d be like, “Yeah, dude, I want acoustic and drums and a shaker and I want it all to be in there.” I feel like we make country music and it sounds like the show. You could literally put a band on stage and play it with no auto tune, no tracks. And that’s what makes it unique for us, because it’s like no one’s ever going to play the same thing twice.

What’s coming next, though? The Exclusive EP is out now and it’s definitely different than Texas Forever.

To be honest, I was like, “I want to try a bigger sound, something more mainstream.” And so I chased it – but I did not give up on the songwriting. My songwriting was very intentional and it was very love story-based [on Exclusive].

I love them, but I’m going back to my Texas country sound. We just recorded a song called “Hey Dallas,” which is really cool. Then we did a song called “Backwards,” which is really cool. And then I don’t know, I’m leaning in to John Mayer production a bit – but no crazy guitar solo. [Laughs] I was like, I ain’t doing none of that.

I can say, definitely some more soul and a bit of R&B in there, for sure. It’s electric guitars driving the whole thing – and I love electrics and baritones. I want that to drive all my stuff from now on. My voice just sounds better with it to me.

So it’s going to be like a whole new fresh album?

Totally new. I have like 120 songs and a lot of them are pretty good. I’m not saying they’re all for me, but I finally did what I should have done and that was sit back, find my key, find the way I like to write, really be intentional about what I’m writing. I wrote a song called “Nowhere Bound” that is probably one of my favorite songs. It’s like, I never stop in any city and don’t ever slow down.

When are you all going to be sharing new stuff?

Next month. I’m dropping “Slow Hand” by Conway Twitty [on Gavin Adcock’s Country Never Dies project, March 13]. His voice is incredible. I ain’t going to lie. It was not easy to cover that shit. [Laughs] He’s got just some weird things and then you’re like holding this note out for 10 minutes. [Laughs]

To be honest, dude, even if none of that stuff [I wrote] is usable, my goal this year is to do something that no one’s ever done and create a freaking path so far into my own lane that’s nothing like anybody else that … it’s undeniable, because I’m going to do what I want.

I feel like right now I’m growing and I’m learning and I’m doing whatever, but now it’s like, “How do I take it to the next level?” I think the way you take it to the next level is just getting deeper into yourself and telling [the fans] more.

Photo Credit: Peyton Dollar

Vince Gill Has Done It All (Part 2)

Posted on by Justin Hiltner

Poaching from Elvis, well over 50,000,000 Vince Gill fans can’t be wrong.

The longevity Gill discussed in Part 1 of this interview has taken him from bluegrass beginnings to a genre-inclusive 50 years as one of country’s most beloved and sought-after artists.

It’s not always been easy, however. No one, regardless of talent or fan loyalty, is immune from freedom of the keyboard and Gill is no stranger to the highs and lows of public opinion. Mostly it’s outpourings of gratitude from the millions whose lives his music touches. Sometimes it’s claptrap about his now decade-long tenure in the Eagles, or venomous spewing over songs like “March On, March On,” from Secondhand Smoke, the second in his series of retrospective EPs being released monthly.

In Part 2 of his conversation with Good Country, Gill discusses, among other things, the aforementioned decade-long tenure with the Eagles, bullying – with a few choice words for those who inflict it – his scrolling habits, and he indulges us in a rapid-fire round of closing questions.

In the arc of this 50-year project, it is not unnoticed that Hotel California turns 50 this year. Do you have memories of listening to that album as a young man, as you now find yourself onstage playing those songs?

Vince Gill: I had all the Eagles records. We did a lot of their songs in my bluegrass days, and it’s completely surreal. I’m starting my tenth year of being in that band and continuing that legacy of songs. What I value most about getting to play with these guys, what I’ve learned most, is how important songs are – all the notes, all the licks, all the riffs, all that stuff. Getting to relearn that at this stage of life has been pretty profound in the way that I’m trying to write songs. I’m patient in the way I write. I’m patient to wait for it to come – the right words, to not settle on anything, and really edit and work and edit and work and continue to try to be mindful of how important the song is.

What I’m mindful of with the Eagles is the tragedy. More important than the fact that I get to do it is that if Glenn had not passed away, I would not have gotten to do this and I’m grateful I’m the one they called. I met all those guys in, I think, 1980, when I was living [in California]. In a million years, would I have ever thought this would have happened? No. But I am careful of how I couch everything, because it came from something tragic and I am respectful of that.

Glenn was a really good friend of mine, actually, and his son Deacon is doing a great job up there of carrying on his dad’s tradition. I think I’m a great fit for them in the way I play guitar and sing, and sing harmony, and play all the instruments I do. I’m not saying I’m better than anybody else they could have gotten. I’m just saying what I do suits them really well.

Jedd Hughes described you as “one of the greatest band leaders I’ve ever worked with. He’s listening to everything and everyone, always, so you can read his cues pretty easily.” First part of the question: Where did you learn to lead?

Because I’m a musician, I think I come at it different and I operate under the mindset that every note is equal. You’re not more important because you’re the lead singer. You’re not more important because you play the lead solo in the song. I value every note the same. Spending my life in the studio like I have, knowing what you play and do has to sit well and play well with others, you have to listen to everybody else.

It’s amazing what you can accomplish if you don’t care who gets the credit. Sometimes people play only to be noticed and that doesn’t necessarily constitute the right thing for the song. They say in Nashville all the time, “Just serve the song.” That’s all I’ve ever tried to do. If someone’s playing something and doing something, don’t do something to distract it. Do something to enhance it, to support it.

Second part: How does that translate to arrangements and contributions from the musicians you work with?

Great players all listen to each other and you’re dealing with a caliber of musicians that already know what not to do, so you don’t have to waste time going, “Hey, don’t play that, that’s too much, that’s not necessary.” Every time I’m in there playing, I take every note, examine it, and make it move me, make it sit just right.

Once again, if you’re playing with that caliber of people, which I fortunately am – my band is usually made up of a lot of studio musicians and amazing players – they like playing with me because I’m a player, too. I’m not just someone up there singing the songs. So I think I have their respect, and that points you once again towards, “What’s the best thing for the song? What’s the best arrangement idea? What’s the best part to play? What’s the best part not to play?” That’s it in a nutshell.

I’m surrounded by musicians that can all play me under the table, straight up. That’s the truth. I’m grateful to have them, grateful to get to play with them, and it makes for a very democratic spirit. Even in the way we record, I’m not heavy-handed. I’m not telling people what to play. Oftentimes we’ll be in there and they’ll say, “Do you like this?” I go, “I don’t have any idea. I’ve never even heard this song before. I know I wrote it, but we’re in here trying to figure it out, so we’re just going to figure it out all together.”

It creates a great spirit in there if everybody feels like they’re all walking on equal ground, everybody has a right to an opinion, everybody has a right to try something, nobody gets shut down, nobody gets put off. It’s an amazing experience. I don’t ever do demos with my songs. I just write them and then I show them to the guys on the floor. I go, “This is how it goes. Let’s figure it out.” They naturally gravitate towards something great and you just follow them off the cliff! It’s wonderful to watch other people’s gifts.

Earlier you described yourself as “the happiest son of a bitch in the world” who just loves sad songs. In that happiness, however, you have experienced much grief. Your faith is strong. Have you ever lost or questioned it during times of loss?

When I think about faith, I don’t think of it so much [from] the religious point of view. I think faith in humanity – more than Baptist or Methodist, or heaven or hell, or any of that stuff. None of these questions have ever been answered, so to pretend you know the answers seems a little, I don’t know, pretentious almost. That might not be a good word. But, no. It all comes from loving deep. The people I love, I love them deeply. They matter to me.

Music is where I go to grieve. It’s where I go to get through loss. It’s where all those things are. I tell everybody it’s cheaper than therapy. I just write about it.

I never feel the need to fix everything in my life. My relationship with my dad, if it was funky or whatever, I said, “It’s not my place to change him. It’s my job to accept him.” Once I could do that, we had a great relationship. You don’t have to be like me for me to like you. You don’t have to think like I do for me to like you.

I’ve been told more often than not, “Why I like your songs is you are able to say what I wish I could say. You are able to express feelings I have that I don’t know how to.” Maya Angelou sought me out and asked me to come and meet her when she was in Nashville years ago. She told me, “‘Go Rest High’ was a lifesaver to me. It helped me get through the loss of my brother.” Those kinds of things make you go, “I’m going to try to find a way to be emotional about things and not only help myself, but help other people too.” I think if you can portray in a story what someone’s going through, you have a chance to make people feel better.

You can’t name-drop Maya Angelou and just go on to the next question! We need to back up a little bit.

She was speaking at Vanderbilt and wanted to meet. [My wife] Amy [Grant] and I went and afterward we got to go back and say hi. She said, “You mean a lot to me, because your song helped me get through one of the hardest times of my life.” It was a great visit.

You’ve released the fourth EP in your series. Which chapter is this and do you know what’s to follow?

It’s uptempo-y and groove-y, kind of like “Liza Jane” and “One More Last Chance” and some of those fun songs. Each record is, on purpose, similar-driven. The record after this fourth one will be a lot of real country-country stuff, real traditional stuff. The one after that is going to be more like “I Still Believe In You” and “Don’t Let Our Love Start Slippin’ Away,” from a more rocking side. I don’t want to say the word “pop,” but it is. It feels like an Eagles record or a Fleetwood Mac record at times. The inspirations are all in there.

The one after that is real bluesy R&B-ish. Are you hip to Lamont Landers? He’s a soul singer from Alabama. You look at him and go, “There’s no way this voice is coming out of that dude.” He does all these really cool things. I found him and I got him to come and sing on one of my songs that’s coming out later in the year. He’s just such a cool dude. I’ve been trying to turn people on to him.

How did you find him?

Scrolling.

You’re a scroller!

Oh, heavily guilty. I tell Amy it’s my TV now instead of channel surfing. Once in a while you’ll come upon a great young musician, or a great young singer, or a great comedian. There’s so many options, and if you stop on something, it’ll start giving you hundreds of things just like that.

The algorithm gets you.

Yeah, exactly. But it’s entertaining, and I found a couple of people to track down and
have them sing on my record because I like what they do.

What do you scroll?

YouTube, Facebook, Instagram. Most of the stuff is pointless, but there’s a nugget once in a while.

How do you handle the cruelty of social media? It can get to anyone, especially when it’s directed toward you.

It can, if you let it. That’s the life we live in now. You can’t go perform and not have everybody have a camera out and put it up and showing it and seeing it. You have a bad night and everybody’s going to rip you for it. It’s like, “How much negativity can you continue putting out there, saying negative things?” It’s never going to stop, you know that, but it’s still entertaining to read.

I read it to be informed and I don’t mind taking it. I’ve lived with critics being critical of everything I’ve ever done. It comes with the territory. If you’re brave enough to stand up there and speak through a microphone, you know you’re going to get judged to some degree. Once in a while, somebody will say something and I say, “That’s fair. That’s truthful.” Other people will say things and I go, “You don’t even know what the hell you’re talking about, but you have an opinion that’s inflammatory towards me, and you couldn’t be more wrong.” I know that, so it doesn’t have an impact.

Sadly, people have to get on there, the keyboard warriors. They think they finally have a voice. Being able to post and have an opinion, they think that gives them a voice. But in the grand scheme of things, it doesn’t. I know that, so I just take it with a grain of salt and move on.

Perhaps being 68 years old with experience and success makes that easier than for a young person just starting out.

People are still critical of me being in the Eagles. They say, “Now it’s a cover band and you shouldn’t be there,” blah, blah, blah. You know it’s coming, so press on. Say whatever you want. Say it to my face and see what happens to you!

I can’t control any of it. I can control me. I can control my heart, what my heart thinks, what my heart feels. If you hate what I do, that’s okay. A lot of people don’t like what I do. I’m used to that. You’re not going to stop me.

Earlier we talked about hope. I just hope people respond. I don’t mind if they respond negatively. You don’t want that, you’d rather not, but it’s funny how you can get a hundred good reviews on a record and one bad and you only remember the bad one. That’s human nature. It’s not a weakness. It just goes to show how being cruel and negative towards someone has an impact.

I think about the times I was in school and was talked to in a negative way, and how it lasted. I remembered it forever. There was a girl I was in a band with for a little bit. She sang in this choir at the school that was really well thought of, and the choir director told her, “You are wasting your time with that guy and his banjo and bluegrass. He’s a fool.” And I just want to go, “Na-na-na-na-na!” But you remember it. And an English teacher that kicked me out of the class for saying something she didn’t like and painted me a certain way. You remember it.

My own kids, one teacher said to my youngest daughter, “My dog has more manners than you.” Things like that … my hundred-year-old mother is still pissed off about that! She’s still, “I’d like to get my hands on that teacher!” We’ve got a good bit of redneck in us!

I watch my sweet wife take slings and arrows all the time and the way she handles it is so beautiful to watch and so inspiring. It’s helped me do the same thing.

Can you play everything you hear in your head?

Probably. I hope so! It’s funny you brought that up, because being a musician and a singer, people say, “How do you get inspired to sing?” or “How do you get inspired to play?” Well, before I play something, in my head, I’m saying, “How would you sing this?” And when I’m getting ready to sing something, I ask myself, “How would you play this? What kind of rhythm? What kind of phrasing?” All those things.

I think the real difference [between] a good singer and a great singer is the way they phrase. Ray Charles could phrase like nobody’s business. Jerry Lee Lewis, when he sang country songs, could phrase like nobody else. George Jones could phrase like nobody else. You go on and on and look at all the greatest singers, and they’re unique because more so the way they phrased than how many notes they sang.

What is the difference between playing guitar and being a guitarist?

Oh, man. I don’t know if there is. I think it’s the same thing. It all comes from the same heart. It all comes from the same ears. I just play what I think fits. I think that’s what being a great guitarist is – playing what fits.

I saw something the other day that said, “I refuse to name who I think the greatest guitar player is,” and it makes sense to me because there’s no such thing. Everybody goes at it in a different way and has a different spirit about it, has a different way they want to play and statement they want to make. Then it becomes a matter of your preference, of what you like best, that defines what the best guitar player is.

I just like people that are gifted, and people that are musical, and they play what’s in their hearts and what they feel. If you feel it like they do, game over. If you don’t, you move on. Not every great guitar player moves me. It might move you. I think we’re lucky that we can be subjective and not have to all feel the same way about the same things.

Let’s close with a lightning round. Anything goes, whatever comes to mind. An album you wish you had played on.

Hotel California.

A song you wish you had written.

“’Till I Gain Control Again” by Rodney Crowell.

A session in which you wish you could have been a fly on the wall.

“Together Again” by Buck Owens.

A concert you attended that made your head spin.

Paul McCartney.

A guitar solo you wish you could claim as your own.

Oh, gosh. I might have to go with a Chet Atkins solo, because he’s the first person I ever saw play live when I was a little boy.

Editor’s Note: Check out part one of our Good Country conversation with Vince Gill here.

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Photo Credit: David McClister

BGS 5+5: Trey Hedrick

Posted on by Justin Hiltner

Artist: Trey Hedrick
Hometown: Wilkesville, Ohio
Latest Album: Sing, Appalachia (released February 20, 2026)

What other art forms – literature, film, dance, painting, etc. – inform your music?

Literature. It has probably helped my writing more than anything besides the act of writing itself. Wendell Berry has had a huge influence on me and he’s far and away my favorite writer. His prose is exceptional. There is a restraint and steadiness to it. He’s extremely prolific and consistent, which isn’t an easy thing to achieve. He says a great deal with very little and I learn from that every time I read a page.

There are many great writers I draw from in the same way: McCarthy, Kingsolver, McMurtry, Leopold, Abbey, Rooney, Hemingway, Faulkner, Burroughs – to name a few. I read widely, but tend to gravitate toward certain styles when I’m working on a project of my own. I’m always reading and if I’m not I make myself feel bad until I do. It’s a big part of the peace my wife and I have built into our days. When I’m in a creative season, I am a bit more intentional about my picks.

Which elements of nature do you spend the most time with and how do they impact your work?

I love the out of doors. I grew up on a cattle farm in Appalachia and was usually either outside or in trouble. I still spend as much time as I can fishing and hiking and – something that is likely unknown about me – I love rock climbing and have traveled the world climbing. I am also a geologist in my straight job, which especially early on kept me working outside.

Nature shows up in almost every one of my songs. It is not something I reach for. It is just part of how I see things. Being outside has always been another place I find peace. If things are bad, going outside almost always makes them better to a varying degree for me

Admittedly, I do get tired of winter and the blues that come with it. That makes its way into the songs, too.

Genre is dead (long live genre!), but how would you describe the genres and styles your music inhabits?

I don’t think much about genre. My songs usually start on an acoustic guitar, so there’s naturally some bluegrass and country in them. That’s the language I grew up around. But I’m not trying to recreate anything. I don’t read music or know much theory and I don’t really know what rules I might be breaking. I’ve always had a good ear and I let that guide me. I’m lucky to have close friends who are incredible musicians, and they’d dress me down if something was off.

If someone needs a label, Americana works fine. Beyond that, I try not to overthink it or limit myself.

What is a genre, album, artist, musician, or song that you adore that would surprise people?

I love hip-hop, R&B, neo-soul type music. I especially love ’90s early 2000s neo-soul. D’Angelo, Erykah Badu, Lauryn Hill, Tevin Campbell, Mario, etc.

I enjoy those genres as much if not more, at times, than bluegrass and country. It’s like reading, I put on the music I need in the moment and I don’t limit myself. I guess that would surprise people, but I think it comes across in my singing some and may present in future sonic choices as well. We’ll see.

Since food and music go so well together, what is your dream pairing of a meal and a musician?

Fried potatoes from a cast iron skillet, greasy beans from Mamaw’s garden, macaroni noodles with tomato sauce, and a chicken fried steak. I could think of a lot of musicians to share that meal with, but the one who keeps coming to mind is Jerry Reed. He was hilarious and super intelligent. A great singer with excellent tone, and he was even a writer for Elvis on a couple tracks.

There’s a story about Elvis asking for Jerry to play on “Guitar Man,” a song Jerry wrote. Folks on Elvis’s team had to go get Jerry from the river where he was fishing to come to the studio and play the guitar part. None of the other session musicians could get it quite right. Legend. He isn’t really revered in modern memory for how brilliant of a technical player he was. He’d be a fun person to share that meal with.

Photo Credit: Chris Heidl

The Mighty Résumés of
Dan Penn and Spooner Oldham

Posted on by Justin Hiltner

The duo of Dan Penn and Spooner Oldham have amassed an astonishing set of credentials, not only as exceptional soul, pop, rock, and country songwriters, but also as vocalists, producer (Penn), and session musician/sideman (Oldham). Both Alabama natives, they’ve maintained a successful professional relationship and close personal friendship since meeting in the late ’50s as teens. They’ve always characterized themselves as “country boys who love Black music.”

Penn initially viewed himself primarily as a singer. He was the lead vocalist for two local Alabama bands, the R&B group the Mark V Combo and a later one, Dan Penn and the Pallbearers. But he began to shift his focus in 1960, after his tune “Is A Bluebird Blue?” became an early hit for Conway Twitty. That song also reflected the joint musical influences that have always permeated the tunes co-written by Penn and Oldham. It’s country’s powerful storytelling edge combined with soul’s passionate energy and quest for personal salvation. Once the Twitty tune made it big, things changed in Penn’s mind. “That’s when I first decided that maybe this songwriting thing might work out,” he added. “After I saw some of the checks that were coming in, I decided to just keep going with it.”

Penn had already been working at SPAR Music studio, a place co-founded by Rick Hall and Billy Sherrill above a drugstore in Florence, Alabama. When Hall decided to open his own studio titled FAME (Florence Alabama Music Enterprises), Penn became their first resident songwriter. He and Oldham began writing together at FAME, and both say they had a chemistry from the very beginning.

“Back in those days, co-writing wasn’t quite what it is today,” Penn continued. “But just from hanging out with Spooner and getting to know him, we had real good rapport from the beginning. I got to know and like him, and then things just kind of took off from there.”

“What Dan says is pretty much how it happened,” Oldham added. “We got a rhythm going and it’s never been one of those things where we’ve had any problems or issues.”

Interestingly, Oldham views himself as a musician first, then a songwriter. A prolific organist and keyboardist, he got his start playing in a traditional jazz band while in high school. The extensive list of top musicians he’s played with over the years includes Arlo Guthrie, Jim Croce, Gram Parsons, The Everly Brothers, Jackson Browne, Linda Ronstadt, Gene Clark, Ry Cooder, The Flying Burrito Brothers, Delaney and Bonnie Bramlett, Bob Seger, Maria Muldaur, Rita Coolidge, Bobby Womack, Albert King, Helen Reddy, Harry Nilsson, Stephen Stills, J.J. Cale, and Neil Young. But in his earlier days, he also made his way to the FAME studios and had the first of many collaborations with Penn. Among their notable FAME triumphs were Percy Sledge’s “It Tears Me Up,” James and Bobby Purify’s “I’m Your Puppet,” and Joe Simon’s “Let’s Do It Over.”

But Penn wanted to produce as well as write and he left FAME for Memphis in the late ’60s, moving to Chips Moman’s American Studios. Oldham would later follow him there. Penn and Moman would craft their own set of soul classics, notably “Dark End of the Street” for James Carr, and “Do Right Woman, Do Right Man” for Aretha Franklin. Penn got his first major production opportunity in 1967, with the Box Tops and then 16-year-old lead vocalist Alex Chilton. Penn produced their number one hit “The Letter,” then joined forces with Oldham to co-write the group’s second smash “Cry Like A Baby,” and the Sweet Inspirations’ “Sweet Inspiration.”

Oldham would eventually depart for Los Angeles and a prolific career as a session musician and sideman. He played keyboards on Young’s 1978 album Comes a Time, and continued to work with him on such other albums as Old Ways, Harvest Moon, Silver & Gold, and Prairie Wind. Oldham joined Bob Dylan during his Christian era, contributing to Dylan’s Saved album, the Saved Tour and the Shot of Love Tour. With Dylan, he played 79 shows, appeared on Saturday Night Live, and on the GRAMMY Awards telecast. Oldham also partnered with John Prine for the 1984 album Aimless Love and appeared on the 1994 release, A John Prine Christmas.

When Crosby, Stills, Nash & Young reunited for their Freedom of Speech Tour, Oldham played keyboards. He also worked as a sideman and collaborated with Steve Wariner through the ’80s. They teamed on the song “Lonely Women Make Good Lovers.” During the ’90s, Oldham was featured on Jewel’s album Pieces of You, which produced the hit “Who Will Save Your Soul.” In the 2000s, he appeared on a pair of Frank Black albums, joined the Drive-By Truckers for their 2007 The Dirt Underneath tour, and played with Amos Lee, Aaron Neville, Bettye LaVette and Cat Power in 2008. He contributed to Keith Richards’ 2015 album Crosseyed Heart and Sheryl Crow’s Threads in 2019, as well as the Mountain Goats Dark In Here in 2021.

Penn established his own Memphis studio, then subsequently relocated to Nashville in the ’70s. He would have some country success with songs written for Ronnie Milsap and Johnny Rodriguez, and he’d also produce a pair of Milsap LPs – his debut album Ronnie Milsap, and co-producing A Rose By Any Other Name with Moman. He contributed the song “A Woman Left Lonely” to Janis Joplin’s album Pearl (later covered by Charlie Rich) and he’d cut an acclaimed solo album, Nobody’s Fool.

Penn and Oldham had another reunion in 1991 at New York’s Bottom Line, appearing in the songwriter series “In Their Own Words.” They also contributed to Arthur Alexander’s 1993 album Lonely Just Like Me. Later the duo made an acoustic tour throughout parts of the U.S., Europe, Australia, and Japan. It yielded the live album, Moments From This Theater, that was released in 1999. Penn also made another critically praised solo LP, Do Right Man, in 1994. Both Penn and Oldham are members of the Alabama Music Hall of Fame. Oldham is also in the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame as a sideman, as well as the Musicians Hall of Fame in Nashville and the Birmingham Record Collectors Hall of Fame.

Both men currently remain busy. Penn’s Christmas tune “One Blue Light” was released last November and it was a message of “remembrance and hope” to highlight the holiday season. It’s the first single from Penn’s upcoming album, Smoke Filled Room, which is scheduled for release later this year. “There’s a song on there that I worked on for 20 years and I finally got it right this time,” he said in discussing the upcoming album. “Billy Lawson mixed it and we finally got it sounding the way that we wanted.”

Smoke Filled Room was recorded at Penn’s home studio and will be available on various streaming sites. “When I started out as a singer in the studios I’d always pay attention to what they were doing on the boards, the engineering, mixing, all of it,” Penn added. “So it wasn’t that much of a shift for me to go to production.”

Besides playing dates last year with Neil Young, Oldham also played with the Scottish band Texas on the 2024 release The Muscle Shoals Sessions, a collection of soul covers that the group recorded at FAME studios. He will be playing on an upcoming Robert Cray LP, with the sessions set to begin the week after our interview. Together, Penn and Oldham are doing some select dates this year in both the United States and United Kingdom.

Unfortunately, Oldham suffered an injury early in his recent appearances with Young. “The first week out I fell playing basketball and just tore myself up,” Oldham said. “But I’ve moved from a wheelchair to a walker to a cane, so I’m doing alright.”

Neither man will commit to claiming any one of their classics as their favorite, nor will they cite any one artist as the greatest that has covered their songs. But Penn mentions some names he was particularly happy he worked with as either a producer or songwriter. “Alex Chilton, Aretha Franklin, Joe Simon – so many I can’t really name them all.”

“I’ll just say I’m grateful to all the wonderful singers that did our songs,” Oldham added. “I really saw myself starting out – and still do – as a musician first, and I approached songwriting from that perspective. Dan would work on getting the words right, if there was a problem, and I’d work on fixing the music if anything went wrong on that end.”

Penn added the name of one singer who’s not recorded one of his songs that he’d enjoy having cut one: “Tom Jones,” Penn said. “I doubt if that’s ever going to happen, but I’d love for him to do one of them. He’s got a hell of a voice.”

Their opinions on the phenomenon of streaming aren’t as tinged with anger as some of their contemporaries, though they acknowledge that the compensation end has its problems. “Well, this generation has really gotten accustomed to getting its music that way, and you’ve got to be willing to adjust to that reality,” Penn said. “I don’t really have anything against it, but really, as a songwriter, [you] aren’t going to make a lot of money off it.”

“They definitely need to address the payment side of it,” Oldham said. “It’s definitely a way to get the music out to the public, but the musicians themselves aren’t really getting the benefits from it. That’s the area that they need to address.”

The exploits of Dan Penn and Spooner Oldham are chronicled as part of the “Muscle Shoals: Low Rhythm Rising” exhibit at the Country Music Hall of Fame and Museum in Nashville. They will be appearing in concert at City Winery Nashville on January 18, 2026.

Photo Credit: Richard G. Mann

Despite a Sad And Beautiful World, Mavis Staples Still Transcends

Posted on by Justin Hiltner

Such words as “legendary,” “transcendent,” and “magnificent,” while accurate, only skim the surface in describing the greatness of vocalist Mavis Staples. There’s no idiomatic area where she doesn’t excel and no song, regardless of origin or writer, that she can’t turn into a personal triumph. She’s also a genuine survivor, both in the familial (she’s the last living member of the Staple Singers) and socio-political sense (she’s a cultural warrior and champion of the Civil Rights era whose resonant voice has inspired generations of listeners).

For many artists, claiming they’ve gotten better with age is at best polite overstatement, and at worst woeful exaggeration. But Staples at 86 still has the authoritative edge, tonal quality, and lyrical flair that’s always marked her performances. It seems hard to believe she’s been singing since childhood, and listening to the 10 tracks on her newest release, Sad And Beautiful World (released November 7 by Anti), you hear the confident, jubilant sound of a vocal titan.

That Staples can cover with equal distinction and flair songs penned by Tom Waits, Curtis Mayfield, Gillian Welch & David Rawlings, Leonard Cohen, and Frank Ocean reaffirms her versatility. Producer Brad Cook smartly lets her voice dominate through each setting, regardless of instrumental backdrops, tempo or lyrical setting. Her spoken word narrative adds additional punch to the cover of Ocean’s “Godspeed” and underscores its recurring themes of urgency and redemption that fuel the album’s sensibility.

But the album also contains prominent message tracks, most notably “We Got To Have Peace,” a number whose tone and lyrics couldn’t be more timely in an era where it seems lunacy often runs supreme. “Anthem” and “Satisfied Mind” are just as powerful and energetic in their declarations of the importance of persistence, kindness, and goodwill. “Everybody Needs Love” provides the perfect finale, with Staples superbly punctuating its theme and completing a 38-minute epic work. Indeed, songwriter Kevin Morby has offered perhaps the best tribute to Staples’ brilliance possible, when he gave a press statement about what it meant to have her doing his song “Beautiful Strangers,” which is another memorable and passionate number.

“It isn’t easy to put into words what it feels like having one of the best, most important vocalists and cultural figures of both the 20th and 21st century sing one of my songs,” Morby said. “But hearing Mavis sing ‘Beautiful Strangers’ is hands down the greatest moment and highest honor of my career. Far beyond any kind of accolade or acclaim – having one of my biggest heroes sing something I wrote is the most validating and flattering thing that could ever happen to me as a songwriter and person. Thank you, Mavis.”

Staples has been awesome for so long, sometimes it’s easy to forget how many different periods and genres her artistry covers. The original family unit the Staple Singers were gospel and folk song giants. The unit included her sisters Cleotha and Yvonne, plus her brother Pervis, her father Pops, whose roots reached back to the seminal days of Delta blues, and Charlie Patton, who served as anchor, both vocally and on guitar. The Staple Singers began singing in Chicago churches in the late ’40s, became recording artists in the early ’50s, and earned their first hit with “Uncloudy Day” in 1952, recorded for the Black-owned label Vee-Jay. By the ’60s they were a cornerstone unit of the Civil Rights Movement, often accompanying Dr. Martin Luther King at rallies.

Mavis began really getting noticed as a solo performer during their transition in the late ’60s and early ’70s to a soul and pop unit. The decision to sign with Stax Records and the shift to secular music was one Pops often acknowledged as a controversial one, but it ultimately paid off as the group’s status elevated into crossover stars. They had eight Top hits in the early and mid-’70s; “I’ll Take You There” and “Let’s Do It Again” were chart toppers and “Who Took The Merry Out of Christmas” reached number two. Mavis also cut her first solo single in the late ’60s, then a full self-titled release for Stax in 1969. Their songs were expertly produced, featuring the crisp and outstanding backing of Booker T. & the MGs. Other essential hits included “I’ll Take You There” and “Respect Yourself.”

Slowly but surely, Mavis began to establish herself outside the Staples family trademark. Her soundtrack LP, A Piece of the Action on Curtis Mayfield’s label, helped her reach some new audiences, as did another self-titled mid-‘80s LP. But it was a pair of releases produced by Prince in the ’90s that really helped her reach the next generation of listeners. The second by the duo, The Voice, was another masterpiece. It included her magical version of Prince’s “Positivity,” as well as a cover of “Melody Cool” from the film Graffiti Bridge. Staples returned to the church in 1996 for a marvelous release, Spirituals & Gospels: Dedicated to Mahalia Jackson, that personified the close friendship that Jackson had with the entire Staples family and her influence on Mavis, personally and professionally.

Over the course of the 21st century, Mavis Staples has unquestionably become an iconic figure. The roster of artists with whom she’s worked over the course of her remarkable career is an astonishing one, both in terms of talent and musical approach. She’s recorded with jazz guitarist John Scofield, Los Lobos, Bob Dylan, Johnny Paycheck, Natalie Merchant, George Jones, Delbert McClinton, Aretha Franklin, Nona Hendryx, and Ann Peebles, to cite only a handful. Staples has also continued making emphatic message albums, among them the 2017 dynamo If All I Was Was Black. Her voice has been sampled by rappers and hip-hop and pop artists like Salt ‘N’ Pepa, Ice Cube, Ludacris, and Hozier.

Mavis also been featured in a host of television shows and films, among them The Tonight Show with Jay Leno, The Late Show With David Letterman, Conan, and “CBS Saturday Morning: Saturday Sessions,” and she was the featured performer on the very first episode of The Late Show With Stephen Colbert. Her film resume includes appearances in Martin Scorsese’s The Last Waltz and Antoine Fuqua’s documentary Lightning in a Bottle, about the Salute to the Blues concert at Radio City Music Hall in February 2003.

Mavis!, the first feature documentary about Staples and the Staple Singers, was directed by Jessica Edwards and had its world premiere at SXSW in March 2015. It was later screened in theaters and was broadcast on HBO in February 2016, eventually winning a Peabody Award. Her appearance with Mahalia Jackson at the 1969 Harlem Cultural Festival is among the many highlights in the award-winning documentary Summer of Soul, which was released in 2021. Staples has even been portrayed on film, played by Laura Kariuki in the 2024 hit film, A Complete Unknown.

Staples has rightly won numerous awards. The array includes three GRAMMYs and a GRAMMY Lifetime Achievement Award, induction into the Rock and Roll, Gospel Music, and Blues Halls of Fame, and having been a Kennedy Center Honoree. The Rock and Roll Hall of Fame honored her a second time in 2019 with the inaugural Rock Hall Honors Award for her solo work. Rolling Stone named her 56th among the “100 Greatest Singers of all Time” in 2008, though there was already no question about her inclusion in that select company.

Amazingly, there doesn’t seem to be any slowing down for Mavis Staples. She celebrated her 80th birthday at the Apollo Theater in 2019, returning to the famed venue where she first appeared as a teenager 63 years before that date. She did a series of collaborative birthday concerts that year with special guests that included David Byrne and Norah Jones. She also collaborated with Run the Jewels on the track “Pulling the Pin” from their studio album RTJ4. In 2022, Staples released Carry Me Home, a collaborative effort with the late Levon Helm that they recorded together at Helm’s Midnight Ramble in 2011.

She’s already announced upcoming tour dates for 2026 at three famous sites: Chicago’s Chicago Theatre, Nashville’s Ryman Auditorium, and New York’s Beacon Theatre. Mavis Staples also remains a voice for social justice. Way back in 2010, she performed at the Rally to Restore Sanity and/or Fear alongside singer Jeff Tweedy. In 2011, she was joined onstage at the Outside Lands Music And Arts Festival by Arcade Fire singer Win Butler. The two performed a version of “The Weight” by The Band. Shortly after the release of her 2016 LP Livin’ On A High Note, produced by M. Ward with songs written for her by Nick Cave, Justin Vernon, Neko Case, and others, Staples issued these prophetic words:

I’ve been singing my freedom songs and I wanted to stretch out and sing some songs that were new. I told the writers I was looking for some joyful songs. I want to leave something to lift people up; I’m so busy making people cry, not from sadness, but I’m always telling a part of history that brought us down and I’m trying to bring us back up.

These songwriters gave me a challenge. They gave me that feeling of, “Hey, I can hang! I can still do this!” There’s a variety, and it makes me feel refreshed and brand new. Just like Benjamin Booker wrote on the opening track, “I got friends and I got love around me, I got people, the people who love me.” I’m living on a high note, I’m above the clouds. I’m just so grateful. I must be the happiest old girl in the world. Yes, indeed.

Anyone paying attention to the songs on Sad And Beautiful World knows that’s still the case with Mavis Staples’ music.

Photo Credit: Elizabeth De La Piedra

Sabine McCalla Makes a New Orleans Album Out of Global Traditions

Posted on by Justin Hiltner

In 1853, a 29-year-old Parisian photographer, Adolphe-Alexandre Martin, delivered a paper to the French Academy of Sciences. In his text, he proposed a process for creating a photographic image on thin, chemically coated metal sheets: the tintype. Between the late 19th and early 20th centuries, his invention became the portrait medium of choice, especially across North America, eventually falling out of fashion in the 1930s. Strikingly evocative, tintypes imbue subjects with a surreal, dreamlike quality, offering an emotional portal into the past.

Over a century and a half later, the New Orleans-based Haitian American singer-songwriter Sabine McCalla, younger sister of the influential classical and folk musician Leyla McCalla, asked the tintype revival photographer Meg Turner to take her portrait. For an artist who draws from the past while seeking pathways forward, using an old medium to capture something new was an instinctive choice. Turner’s image became the cover art and a lodestar for the central feelings underpinning McCalla’s debut album, Don’t Call Me Baby, released through Kurt DeLashmet and Nick Shoulders’s Gar Hole Records label.

As we discuss later in this interview, the inspiration for Don’t Call Me Baby wasn’t born from a happy moment. Rather than sinking into sadness, McCalla juxtaposes joy and heartbreak, using narrative storytelling as a vehicle for catharsis across nine haunting, surreal songs. On “Sunshine Kisses” she recalls being lost in liminality after a breakup before letting loose on the classic rock and roll slanted singalong “Louisiana Hound Dog” (a co-write with Dan Auerbach from The Black Keys and Pat McLaughlin). By the time “Two of Hearts” arrives, our protagonist is singing about three different suitors.

Amid the paradisiac instrumentation surrounding her soothing voice, McCalla and her producers, Sam Doores (of The Deslondes) and Ajaï Combelic, collaborate with a cast of more than a dozen musicians from her musical community in New Orleans. Together, they blend rhythm & blues, country, folk, jazz, Tropicália, quiet storm soul, and doo-wop into hypnotic roots music. Song by song, the results reflect a lifetime spent studying traditions from across the Americas, Europe, the Caribbean, and Africa. Equal parts comforting, adventurous, and spicy, she serves up an Americana hotpot that speaks to the world while being informed by it.

Last month, McCalla joined BGS on a video call. Sitting on a yellow couch surrounded by rosebud-hued walls and framed art, she spent just under an hour with us. In a discursive conversation, we explored the influence of life in Louisiana, her passion for musical history, and, given her background, the inevitability of her worldly confluence of sensibilities. A thoughtful speaker, McCalla isn’t the type to rush her answers. She’s also happy to keep a point simple or, when needed, throw in some extended anecdotes. Sometimes it’s not that deep; other times, it really is.

How important is a sense of place and location to your music?

Sabine McCalla: I don’t know. I mean, it is important. Louisiana and New Orleans have been characters in, or influenced my music a lot. But I’ve certainly written songs outside of New Orleans and Louisiana. I think any land we connect with is important when we’re writing songs.

From the outside looking in, it’s easy to surmise that there is a quality to New Orleans and the musical community that lives there that unlocked something in your artistry.

Yeah, it’s definitely been very inspiring. New Orleans is a very musical city. Nearly everyone you meet is a musician or plays more than one instrument. It’s incredibly culturally rich here. Learning to play music in this environment, you learn certain styles, or you learn with a focus on dancing. There’s a lot of rhythm & blues, soul, and second-line music, and people dancing in the street. I think dancing is something I was thinking of when I thought about how I want these songs to be listened to. Like I’m thinking of a honky-tonk dive bar, hot and steamy, lots of close dancing.

Who says you can’t dance to misery, right?

You certainly can. In fact, you’re probably a better dancer.

There’s something about the juxtaposition between a sad sentiment and a happy rhythm or melody that can be so moving.

I think innately we all want to experience pleasure, and we all have our pains that go with it. I think that’s what people are connecting with.

Unfortunately, or perhaps, fortunately, what is pleasure without pain?

Just a high.

New Orleans looms large in my mind as one of those places where traditions have been kept alive that don’t still exist elsewhere.

Yeah, for sure. There’s a tradition of passing down songs. There’s also so much space to create music here.

Don’t Call Me Baby is an ambitious album, but you succeed in your ambitions. You’ve braided a lot of threads together: different places, genres, periods of time. Was there a specific time in your life when you became interested in musical history, or looking to the past to find new ways to go forward?

I grew up playing classical music. Then I studied some old-time music from Appalachia. I’m interested in learning lots of old songs. I like listening to Harry Smith’s Anthology of American Folk Music. I feel like I’ve dug into a lot of pre-war recordings throughout the South and been inspired by ballad singing.

Like many people, I learned about the Anthology of American Folk Music through Bob Dylan and Joan Baez. There’s something about songwriters who go back and listen to their influences’ influences.

Totally. Shape-note singing is coming back into fashion now. I keep hearing about shape-note festivals around the country. My drummer, Howe Pearson, who also plays in The Deslondes, has been hosting a shape-note singing workshop every Monday.

What was it about the Anthology of American Folk Music that excited you?

They were songs I’d never heard before. I liked the quality of the voices on tape. So emotive and raw. And not just the Harry Smith anthology, Alan Lomax recordings too. I’ve always been interested in ethnomusicology. When I was younger, my sister and I had a mentor who played a lot of blues and jazz. I remember thinking he wrote these songs, until I realized, no, this white man from New Jersey did not write these songs. There’s this beautiful history of Black people in America who sang the blues and jazz and wrote so many songs that have been passed down.

Sometimes I wonder about the impact recorded music had on community singing. I’ve read that after phonograph records turned up, people became more self-conscious about singing at home. They’d hear these great singers and a shyness would set in.

People were keeping the songs they heard alive. They lived when there was no radio, so they were better keepers of songs than we are today. Now everything is so fast. There’s so much music, AI music, the industry pushing constant output, and not reviving songs. But I think a new resurgence of song revivals is happening.

You grew up in a Haitian family in New Jersey. Were your parents encouraging about music?

Yes and no. My sister’s also a musician. My mom was like, “Leyla’s the musician. You need to figure out your own path.” I was like, “No, I think I want to do this.” Both of my parents always encouraged choosing your own path and focusing on it.

It’s not always immediately obvious, but there’s a strong Haitian influence in American music.

Yeah, the Fugees! Lauryn Hill went to my high school. Her album The Miseducation of Lauryn Hill is like a bible to me. It’s a perfect album – the intros, outtakes, transitions. Lyrically empowering. I grew up on her songs. I’m grateful for my high school. We had amazing music teachers.

I graduated with SZA and Dave Authors, and a few others who’ve done great things. My sister Leyla McCalla went there, too. New Jersey is incredibly diverse. A lot of people immigrate to New York and then move into the suburbs, which my family did as well.

Did you grow up on a bit of everything musically?

Classical music. School trips to the opera. My parents played the Haitian groups Boukman Eksperyans and RAM. We listened to The Beatles, Bob Marley, and Rod Stewart.

When I think about Americana, I think about this confluence of cultures and musical traditions that came together in the South. When did it become attractive to you?

It all came together naturally. I was focused on pre-war songs, then going through decades of music. When I moved here, I got interested in The Boswell Sisters and songs collected in New Orleans in the early 1900s. Then I learned about Lonnie Johnson, the godfather of rock ’n’ roll. Through studying songs, I realized that it’s all Americana music. It influenced how I sang and created songs.

In a sense, there’s an inevitability to where you arrived.

I originally wrote and sang songs a cappella. That became my EP, Folk. My friends Leonie Evans and Steph Green helped with backup vocals. There wasn’t much thought about creating a larger sound until I met Eli “Paperboy” Reed. I’d already been listening to New Orleans R&B and soul, and when he put chords to my songs, I was like, “Oh, this is the sound I’ve been looking for.” That changed how I thought about songs. I also grew up listening to [the Tropicália singer-songwriter] Caetano Veloso. I’ve been trying to read his book Tropicalism, but there are so many references to Brazilian artists. It’s going to take forever.

After growing up in New Jersey, you moved to New Orleans, where this was all even more concentrated. There was a weekly jam session you’d go to called the All-Star Covered Dish Country Jamboree.

Yes. The first time I went was in 2014, probably in February. Joy Patterson came up to me – she runs it – and said, “I know who you are.” I was like, “Oh no, this lady…” But I loved it. My sister had been living here, so people were like, “Oh, you’re Leyla’s sister.” I think I saw Sam Doores’ doo-wop group with Casey Jane, Camille Weatherford, Emma Eisenhower, Jon Hatchett, and Max Bien Kahn; they did a little doo-wop show. I thought it was so cute. I wanted to know these people. And I’ve ended up working with all of them.

From there, it became a weekly ritual in your life, right?

Yeah, it was like a church. Going to this country night where I could talk about songs with people and hear a lot of old songs: classic country, classic R&B and soul. Those things lit my soul up.

After all these experiences, what’s your understanding of country music and where you could fit into it in 2025?

I don’t know. Maybe giving voice to other women of color who are interested in country music, not just hip-hop or R&B, but a diversity of sounds. I also lived in Ghana growing up, and lots of people listen to country music in Africa. What surprised me was going to Ghana and someone saying, “Where’s your cowboy hat?” I was like, “I’m from New Jersey, not Texas!”

I get the sense that a lot of your music is therapeutic storytelling.

Yeah, it is. It comes from the heart.

What sort of stories do people tell you about their experiences with your music?

The best one was in London. Someone said their friend’s father passed away and left her a boat. She went sailing for three months. They didn’t listen to music for most of it, then one day she put on my record and that’s all they listened to. That made my heart swell. It’s making me tear up now. Another woman told me she’d separated from her husband and, after hearing my music, reached out to him, saying she was ready to compromise. I was like, damn… Hopefully, this music lets people feel they’re not alone in their feelings.

How much has loneliness driven your music?

It’s been a huge component. I value my alone time, but sometimes it’s a detriment when I’m alone too long or ruminating too long.

You need something to break the feedback loop. Tell me about the backdrop to this album?

I was playing with a lot of ideas. Not everything made it onto the record. A friend visited – she’s an amazing stylist – and I wanted to get a tintype photo done by Meg Turner. We did makeup, hair, clothes, jewelry, so much dazzling stuff, so I’d be shiny in the sun. It was hot in New Orleans. Right before taking the photo, I got a text from someone I was dating, and that’s the true look of shock on my face. After I saw the picture, I was like, “Everything needs to be based around this photo.”

It’s an amazing photo.

Right after that, I wrote “Sunshine Kisses” and then I thought, “What else goes with this?”

What sort of ideas did you have about the threads you wanted to bring together in the music?

I was like: What are all my breakup songs? I wanted it to be haunting, but warm. Some songs I wrote during the pandemic felt too cold for this album. I originally wanted to name it Sudden Blue because I was thinking of a colder feeling. But something transpired while making it; the songs were given a new breath by the people I was working with: Sam Doores, Gina Leslie, Roy Brenc, Howe Pearson, and Ajaï Combelic. It was a warm feeling in the room, lots of laughter. And we were doing it during Mardi Gras, during carnival season, which was wild, because we’d play shows at night and then go into the studio in the morning.

It’s amazing how much other people can make a difference to a creative process.

Yeah. We fed off each other. If there’s negativity or self-consciousness, it’s felt in the music. We were all happy to work out ideas and nerd out about music.

Did you have a heartbreak record, not necessarily one you idolized, but a north star to look towards?

A few albums inspired me. Lauryn Hill’s The Miseducation of Lauryn Hill. Fiona Apple’s When the Pawn… There were also songs: Irma Thomas’s hits, and “Andromeda” by Weyes Blood. It’s such a powerful song about all the emotions we face. Feeling lonely, then liking the loneliness, then changing your mind five times a day.

Photo Credits: Lead image by Camille Lenain; album cover tintype by Meg Turner.

Jackson and the Janks Celebrate “Garage Gospel Jank”

Posted on by Justin Hiltner

Jackson and the Janks, we started in a living room in New Orleans. Piano and guitar playing old gospel songs and trying to make a dance band. First there were two, then a third came in to use the bathroom – he was living in his van out front at the time. He sat down and played along after nature’s call. Over a year it grew from there, adding bass, saxophone, and steel guitar. We started playing shows in New Orleans, sweaty dance shows, and we didn’t have a name other than “the garage gospel band” (officially, Sam Doores’ Garage Gospel Band). We’ve branched out now and adopted New York janks into the family.

The Janks as a name came up, describing all things Janky. An old time, do-it-yourself way of playing, inspired by New Orleans R&B, rock and roll, honky tonk, and of course the sacred songs.

This playlist is a mix of sounds that influence the sentiments of Jackson and the Janks. Rollicking dance music, garage band approach, songs of love and lost love, sweet and sour, irreverent. – Jackson Lynch, Jackson and the Janks

“My Journey To The Sky” – Sister Rosetta Tharpe

There’s something wrong if Sister Rosetta is not in the conversation. True muse and queen progenitor of rock and roll, she kills me with her gospel.

“Rockin’ Bicycle” – Fats Domino

The great Fats Domino. I picked this because it inspires an approach to songwriting that gets overlooked. Have fun with the lyrical content and make fun music.

“Unchained Melody” – The Fleetwoods

I don’t take baths, but listening to this tempts me to try it out. The harmonies do it to me. My favorite version of this song.

“No More Tear Stained Makeup” – Martha & the Vandellas

This one has that lyricism and rhyme that I love. Taking a simple theme and so cleverly making it heartbreaking, don’t see it coming. Smokey Robinson at his best.

“Young Boy Blues” – Snooks Eaglin

New Orleans for real songster Snooks Eaglin played everything. Country blues, jazz, and pop songs of his day. That’s the job: play what people want to hear, do it good, and make it your own.

“Let’s Leave Here” – Jackson and the Janks

It’s about trying to not be the last one at a party that’s going under. Nothing’s happening, but you gotta leave before something does. “Gates are dropped, the service stopped, at the shop on the corner…”

“I Got Loaded” – Keith Frank & the Soileau Zydeco Band

This is a great zydeco version of a swamp-pop party song. Keith Frank (son of the famed Preston Frank) and his whole family make some of the best music I’ve ever had the privilege to dance to.

“Sweet Nothin’s” – Brenda Lee

Sugar, spice, everything nice.

“Sitting on my front porch, well do I love you? Of course,” Brenda growls and tucks me in.

“Who Will The Next Fool Be” – Charlie Rich

This speaks for itself. Just listen to how Charlie Rich sings the word “Who.”

“Life Is Too Short” – Benny Spellman

A great ballad deep cut from the man who gave us that deep voice on “Mother In Law.” Operatic. ”

We do big things in a hurry/ Let’s do what’s right to live…”

“Immigration Blues” – Duke Ellington

This secular hymn is my favorite shit. Early Duke’s orchestrated pieces like this make me regret and hope, sad and happy.

Photos courtesy of Jalopy Records.

Finding Lucinda: Episode 6

Posted on by Justin Hiltner

Ismay travels from Texas to Mississippi to visit the studio where Lucinda Williams made her first record. There, Ismay interviews Wolf Stephenson, who was the engineer that day in 1978, to learn about what happened during the session and whether Lucinda was confident through that initial challenge of recording. They discuss what results when artists get rejected and what keeps certain artists moving forward in spite of various roadblocks. Stephenson oversaw the development of Malaco Records, which produced R&B, soul, and gospel hits. Elsewhere in the episode, Ismay also takes time to visit the stretch of country between Austin, Texas, and Jackson, Mississippi, in order to understand the landscape that informed Lucinda’s work.

LISTEN: APPLE • SPOTIFY • AMAZON • MP3

Produced in partnership with BGS and distributed through the BGS Podcast Network, Finding Lucinda expands on the themes of Ismay’s eponymous documentary film, exploring artistic influence, creative resilience, and the impact of Williams’ music. New episodes are released twice a month. Listen right here on BGS or wherever you get podcasts.

Finding Lucinda, the documentary film that inspired and instigated the podcast, is slated for release in the fall. Both the film and podcast showcase never-before-heard archival material, intimate conversations, and a visual journey through the literal and figurative landscapes that molded Lucinda’s songwriting.

Credits:
Produced and mixed by Avery Hellman for Neanderthal Records, LLC.
Music by Ismay.
Artwork by Avery Hellman.
Jackson, MS Recording: Recorded at Malaco Studios.
Sound Recordist: Rodrigo Nino
Producer: Liz McBee
Director: Joel Fendelman
Co-Director & Cinematographer: Rose Bush
Special thanks to: Mick Hellman, Chuck Prophet, Don Fierro, Jacqueline Sabec, Rosemary Carroll, Lucinda Williams, & Tom Overby.

Find more information on Finding Lucinda here. Find our full Finding Lucinda episode archive here.

Mavis Staples Finds a Place to Call Home in Frank Ocean’s “Godspeed”

Posted on by Editor

Mavis Staples counts herself among the legion of Frank Ocean fans and she’s just released her rendition of “Godspeed” as a sign of her admiration. Of course Staples is an iconic voice of her generation through her groundbreaking music with the Staple Singers on “I’ll Take You There,” as well as the family group’s participation in the 1960s civil rights movement alongside Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. For this heartfelt track, Staples and producer Brad Cook bring in songwriter and Youth Poet Laureate Kara Jackson for spoken word vocals.

“Channel Orange was my first introduction to Frank Ocean and I was just amazed at the writing and soulfulness coming from his voice,” Staples said. “And I loved Blonde when that record came out. That first line in ‘Godspeed’ of ‘I will always love you’ just crushes me every time I hear it… or sing it. It’s just such a beautiful song and he sounds amazing on it so I was a little nervous if we could pull it off. I was honored to sing his words.”

This weekend in Canada, Staples will sing at jazz festivals in Ottawa, Toronto, and Montréal before crossing back over the border for shows in Knoxville, Tennessee, and Brevard, North Carolina. After a number of American concerts in July, she’ll pause just long enough to celebrate her 86th birthday. Then she’s bound for dates in Norway, the Netherlands, and Sweden in August, with even more stops scheduled throughout the U.S. through early October.

Yes, she’ll take you there… but only if you can keep up. Check out the Rock & Roll Hall of Fame member’s cover of Frank Ocean’s “Godspeed” released by ANTI- Records below.

Photo Credit: Myriam Santos