(Editor’s Note: 50 years ago this month, Rufus released what would become a seminal album in American roots music, soul, and funk, Rags To Rufus, which featured Chaka Khan. To mark the 50th anniversary of this iconic recording, singer-songwriter Kyshona ponders the personal meanings of the project and how it relates to her own brand new album, Legacy.)
My mother is battling dementia, so car rides with her are the perfect time to play music from her younger years, when she was carefree, childless, and she and my Dad hosted an abundance of house parties for their friends and family. I have a playlist of songs from the late ‘60s and ‘70s I’ll put on when we’re shuttling her between doctors’ appointments.
On one of these car rides, I turned on Rags To Rufus. My mom was in the passenger seat, playing “brain games” on her phone to, in her words, “Exercise her mind and hold on to what she’s got.” I noticed she was singing, under her breath, the melodies and choruses of the first three tracks on the album. She turned to me and said, “I’ve never heard this before, who is this? I like it!” This got me thinking beyond personal family legacy and more about musical legacy.
This year marks the 50th anniversary of Rags To Rufus, the album that transformed the trajectory of funk band Rufus and propelled Chaka Khan into the spotlight. Chaka Khan’s music is a soundtrack that has woven itself into the fabric of not only my work as an artist, but also into my personal life.
There is an expectation to conform, to try to categorize and compartmentalize music; I can’t imagine enduring the pressure from the industry, and even society as a whole, as it was nearly a half a century ago, artists and bands trying to squeeze themselves into arbitrary molds. To my ears, Rags To Rufus is the sound of a group of friends hanging out and having a good time – there is a sense of celebration, camaraderie, a sonic journey of Black joy. It feels like an album made for the thrill of being creative, for the sake of unbridled artistic freedom. I have always wanted my music to feel like this, telling stories, playing around with sounds and ideas. When I’m creating, that’s my goal. I write in the style that serves the story that I’m telling, without regard to genre constraints or others’ expectations.
The record begins with empowered swagger and affirmation – “You Got The Love,” which I interpret as, “You belong here.” The sentiment is carried through in “Walkin’ In The Sun,” a song that brings a comforting sense of nostalgia. I can hear my “aunties” in the hook: “Even a blind man can tell when he’s walking in the sun.”
The title track is a funked-out jam session, and then the band brings out old-time fervor in “Swing Down Chariot.”
Think about it – Rufus takes an old gospel song, adds Chaka Khan’s powerhouse vocals, blends it with blues, jazz, funk, soul, and takes it to an entirely new dimension! Forget genre, industry rules, or album cycles. Back in the day, it was just music that made you feel good, it was about that vibe.
As a music therapist, I recognize the profound impact music has on those grappling with conditions like Alzheimer’s and dementia – it encourages lucidity and presence of self. As a daughter, I see how music bonds me to my mother.
In the past, when I’ve done music therapy in nursing home settings, I’ve used songs from the early 20th century – like “Let Me Call You Sweetheart,” “Heart And Soul,” and “Sentimental Journey.” But now, the memory care songs I reach for are songs I grew up listening to in our house, at family reunions, on road trips. How fantastic is it that Chaka Khan’s work throughout her 50-year career can provide a generation-spanning conduit for a mother and a daughter to connect? We can experience that freedom in her sound as we listen together, regardless of the chaos happening around us.
I can’t begin to put into words how much I admire Chaka Khan; with my new album, Legacy, I tell the stories of my ancestors and my family. Chaka Khan’s legacy is intertwined with generations of music-makers.
Over the last 50 years, Khan has been a major influence on pop artists like Whitney Houston, R&B artists like Erykah Badu and Mary J. Blige, and on myself – and so many of my peers in the roots and folk scenes. I learned of her musical magic as a child, listening to my parents’ favorite radio stations, so being able to sing backing vocals for her at Newport Folk Festival a few years ago was absolutely surreal. I can’t imagine the journey she’s been on, but I hope she knows that her existence alone encourages artists like me to keep on being true to ourselves and our art.
Rags To Rufus is a part of my journey. For me, it’s the sound of “blackness.” I hope that 50 years from now, someone will listen to the music of myself and my peers and hear that same resonance of joy, love, and celebration of culture.
We all dream to leave a lasting musical legacy as deep and profound as Chaka Khan and Rufus.
On March 29, Beyoncé rode sidesaddle onto the world stage and took us all by storm with the release of her eighth studio album, Cowboy Carter.
Cowboy Carter arrived as the second installment of a three-act project that commenced with Renaissance in 2022. Renaissance incorporated house, disco, hyperpop, R&B, and funk while reclaiming the Black queer roots of dance music. On Cowboy Carter, she similarly reclaims the Black roots of country, blending it with folk, rock, R&B, hip-hop, classical, house, and gospel throughout.
Prior to the release of Cowboy Carter, country has been a longstanding muse for Beyoncé. While her affiliation with the genre was popularized by Lemonade’s “Daddy Lessons,” her first country-leaning performance dates back to nearly a decade earlier when she performed “Irreplaceable” with Sugarland at the American Music Awards in 2007.
Potent and impeccably saturated, Cowboy Carter makes clear that country is inarguably a huge part of Beyoncé’s creative and cultural identity. However, her presence in the genre has not always been well-received; in an Instagram caption 10 days before the album’s release, Beyoncé revealed that CC was largely inspired by an experience where she “did not feel welcomed” into the country fold. Many speculate that this refers to her appearance at the 2016 CMA Awards. The network received racist backlash after she performed “Daddy Lessons” with the Chicks, prompting the erasure of the song’s video from the show’s website (though a representative from CMA later denied the correlation between those two events).
Of Cowboy Carter Beyoncé writes, “The criticisms I faced when I first entered this genre forced me to propel past the limitations that were put on me.”
Beyoncé alchemizes a multitude of influences and collaborators across the gargantuan album in order to achieve the monumental musical feats of CC. With a credits list that sprawls for seemingly miles, Beyoncé enlists a number of guest artists, co-writers, producers, and musicians. Between them, they represent the Black roots of country, pay tribute to Black Americans’ impact on the genre, include legendary country artists and well-known side musicians and collaborators that assert the project’s roots in country, and represent the bright and diverse present and future of country by featuring several lesser-known Black country artists, many of which are also genre-bending in their own work.
In a list that is by no means comprehensive, here are just a few of the contributors that brought their musical magic to Cowboy Carter.
Rhiannon Giddens
“Texas Hold ‘Em” made history as the first hit single by a solo Black woman to top the Billboard’s Hot Country Songs Chart and 10 weeks later, as of this writing, it maintains its gilded perch. Fittingly, the song opens with the warmth and drive of the legendary Rhiannon Giddens strumming a standalone fretless, clawhammer gourd banjo. The talented multi-instrumentalist, singer, composer of many mediums, and roots scholar also sprinkles notes of viola throughout the track.
It is no coincidence that Giddens’ banjo playing, like much of her work, pays homage to the lineage of Black influence throughout roots music. Referred to by many as a “performing historian,” Giddens has spent her career shedding light upon the cross-cultural interweavings of the genre. Here, in an interview, she details the West African origins of the banjo, an instrument essential to American country music that was initially brought to the Americas by enslaved Black folks who used gourds and other accessible materials to recreate instruments of their homelands. By showcasing Giddens on the track, Beyoncé introduces a sonic representative of overlooked histories while uplifting one of the most celebrated Black musicians in modern day roots music.
Robert Randolph
Raised in a secluded religious community, Robert Randolph grew up without secular music. The renowned pedal steel guitarist heard only the music played within the House of God Church of Orange, New Jersey, for decades. He learned the instrument through Sacred Steel, a Black gospel tradition developed in the ’30s that highlighted the steel guitar during religious services.
During his early adulthood, Randolph became exposed to the world of music beyond; as he absorbed jazz, blues, funk, rock, and soul, he soon set out layering his gorgeous pedal steel tones upon a fusion of genres, particularly alongside his band, Robert Randolph and the Family Band. Across his musical arc, he epitomizes Beyoncé’s philosophy that music is transcendent; “All music is related,” he says. “Gospel is the same as blues. The only thing that changes is hardcore gospel people are singing about God and Jesus and in the blues people are singing about ‘my baby left me’ and whiskey.”
Justin Schipper
Like Robert Randolph, Justin Schipper is also credited for steel guitar on the track “16 Carriages.” A Nashville-based composer, multi-instrumentalist, songwriter, and producer, Schipper is a prominent figure in the current country landscape. His talents have landed him on tour with Josh Turner and Shania Twain (playing pedal steel and dobro), and he has gigged with the likes of Carrie Underwood, Chris Stapleton, Kris Kristofferson, Florida Georgia Line, and more.
Cam
Cam (given name Camaron Ochs) co-produced and co-wrote five songs on CC. An American country singer and songwriter, Cam began her career songwriting for musical giants in the industry such as Sam Smith and Miley Cyrus. Since then, she’s released three of her own studio albums with songs inspired by the songwriting styles of Patsy Cline, Ray Charles, Bonnie Raitt, Willie Nelson, and Joni Mitchell, amongst others. A prominent figure in the current country landscape, Cam lends crucial insights and layers with each of her contributions.
Sean & Sara Watkins
Renowned in the current bluegrass/newgrass scene, this sibling duo lends guitar (Sean) and fiddle (Sara) to the track “II Most Wanted.” Sean and Sara epitomize the familial quality so integral to bluegrass; their first band, Nickel Creek, was formed in 1989 alongside virtuoso Chris Thile when Sara and Chris were only 8 years old and Sean was 12. The siblings have been playing together ever since; Nickel Creek would go on to release seven albums, the latest of which, Celebrants, was released last year.
In 2002, the pair began The Watkins Family Hour as a monthly musical showcase featuring their friends and other collaborators in Los Angeles. Spanning over 20 years, the WFH has blossomed expansively. In fact, the pair released their third studio album, Vol. II, in 2022, a celebration of the project and the community surrounding it. Similarly to CC, the list of features for Vol. II is extensive, featuring the likes of Madison Cunningham, Willie Watson, Jackson Browne, and Fiona Apple, amongst others.
Stevie Wonder
A child prodigy who became blind shortly after birth, Stevie Wonder is widely regarded as one of the most influential musicians of the 20th century. He makes his contribution to CC by layering tasteful harmonica atop the sonically rich layers of “Jolene,” a reimaginative cover in the shape of Dolly Parton’s 1973 classic. Much like Beyoncé herself, Wonder is a trailblazer who, as Beyoncé stated in her Innovator Award speech at the iHeartRadio Awards, “defied any label placed upon [him].” From jazz to soul to funk to R&B to gospel to pop and beyond, Stevie Wonder has influenced and inspired creators across infinite genres and blendings with his vibrant propensity for experimentation. In the same speech, Beyoncé poured out a fountain of gratitude towards the legend, who presented her award —“Thank you so much Stevie, I love you,” she said. “I love you and I honor you. I want to thank you for making a way for all of us. […] Whenever anyone asks me if there’s anyone I can listen to for the rest of my life, it’s always you. So thank you, God bless you.”
Brittney Spencer, Tanner Adell, Tiera Kennedy, and Reyna Roberts
These four women are responsible for the ethereal background and third verse vocals for “Blackbiird.” Additionally, Spencer, Roberts, and Kennedy also lend background vocals to “Tyrant,” while Adell’s voice is woven into the sweeping harmonies of “Ameriican Requiem.”
Initially released in 1968 on The Beatles’ self-titled album, (colloquially known as “The White Album”), Paul McCartney wrote “Blackbird” in response to witnessing on television the harassment and violence that Black students endured upon attending newly-integrated schools. In 2018, he told GQ that he was particularly influenced by the young women who constituted, in part, the Little Rock Nine in Alabama — a nickname for the first nine Black students to desegregate the formerly all-white Central High School in Little Rock, Arkansas.
As McCartney explained to TODAY, “In England, a ‘bird’ is a girl, so I was thinking of a Black girl going through this; now is your time to arise; set yourself free; take these broken wings.”
Within her illustrious arrangement of the classic, Beyoncé pairs the initial guitar track recorded by McCartney with the vocals of herself and these four Black women whose careers are actively altering the historically whitewashed landscape of country. By including them, Beyoncé nods towards McCartney’s intended meaning of the song while actively uplifting these young women so that they may prosper in a genre that undervalues and mistreats the Black artists who continue to give it wings. Brittney Spencer, Tanner Adell, Tiera Kennedy, and Reyna Roberts each have burgeoning careers in the genre that are largely influenced by traditional country sounds and themes.
Willie Nelson & Dolly Parton
In addition to inviting in many Black artists and roots musicians, Beyoncé strategically inserts more commercially successful country greats whose values align with her own. As Willie Nelson tells his faux-radio station listeners in the track “Smoke Hour II,” “Sometimes you don’t know what you like until someone you trust turns you onto some real good shit. And that, ladies and gentlemen, is why I’m here.” This line candidly demonstrates an awareness of the unfortunate truth that a vast array of today’s country fans are white listeners unlikely to take this music seriously without ample accreditation from respected white artists.
Merely four days after the release of CC, likely due in part to the inclusion of Willie and Dolly, the number of first-time listeners of Beyoncé’s music had increased by 85% on Spotify.
Willie Nelson, who celebrates his 91st birthday this year, is renowned for his left-leaning activism (especially advocating for the legalization of marijuana — hence the nomenclature of his feature tracks “Smoke Hour” and “Smoke Hour II”) and his role in pioneering the Outlaw Country movement. Outlaw Country began in the ’60s as a subgenre to rebel against the conservative suppressions, sonic and otherwise, of the country industry at the time. Willie and his like-minded contemporaries strove to achieve creative freedom beyond the political and sonic standards that dominated Nashville.
Similarly, Dolly Parton has used her platform, influence, and capital to enact social change. In addition to being an advocate for LGBTQ+ rights, she donated $1 million to Vanderbilt University in 2020 to go towards vaccine research amidst the early stages of the COVID-19 pandemic.
As of 2024, Willie Nelson and Dolly Parton are widely regarded as two of the most successful American country artists of all time. Nelson holds 12 Grammys from 57 nominations, and continues to tour (in fact, he is actively on the road again right now). Dolly has accrued a total of 11 Grammys from 50 nominations over the course of her career and recently gave a dazzling performance at the 2023 NFL Thanksgiving Halftime Show. The amount of esteem and respect each has garnered throughout their careers grants Cowboy Carter a certain amount of credibility within the wider country circuit.
However, it is clear that Beyoncé doesn’t just merely use these two for their name recognition. She is, indubitably, a seasoned scholar in the history of American country music and respects the discography of both artists immensely. While both give narrative voice-overs, Dolly also lends background vocals to “Tyrant” and, of course, shares songwriting credits for the innovative cover of her song “Jolene” that appears on the album.
Willie Jones & Shaboozey
Willie Jones joins Beyoncé on CC to lend his resonant, smoky vocals on the duet track, “Just for Fun,” and to “Jolene.” Having gotten his start as a contestant on the X Factor in 2012, Jones is currently making a name for himself as contemporary Black country artist that Grammy.com refers to as a “country-rap iconoclast.” As proves to be a crucial theme throughout Cowboy Carter, Jones galvanizes cross-genre musings to make a sound that is entirely his own.
Similarly, Shaboozey is a rapping Black country artist who represents the future of the genre. Combining hip-hop, rock, country, and Americana, Shaboozey further embodies the blending spirit behind CC. His contributions to the album include rapping verses on both “Spaghettii” and “Sweet Honey Buckiin.”
Linda Martell
Beyoncé ingeniously laced together Cowboy Carter to demonstrate the past, present, and future of Black musicians who have influenced the American roots music; and Linda Martell stands as a crowned example of the past. Martell, now 82, was the first commercially successful Black woman in country. In 1969, she made history as the first Black woman to play the Grand Ole Opry, and she held the status of highest peaking single by a Black woman on Billboard’s Hot Country Singles Chart for her song “Color Him Father” until Beyoncé’s very own “Texas Hold ‘Em” took its place.
However, Martell’s success was short-lived; she left Nashville and country music altogether in 1974 after receiving racist backlash following the release of her first album. Nearly every live show was corroded by racial slurs from belligerent audiences, and her label eventually shelved her music when her single, “Bad Case of the Blues,” failed to do the numbers they were expecting. As Martell postulates on the CC track “Spaghettii,” “Genres are a funny little concept, aren’t they? In theory, they have a simple definition that’s easy to understand. But in practice, well, some may feel confined.”
While Martell’s career arc fell victim to the confines of hegemonic racism within Nashville (and the country at large), her appearance on Cowboy Carter pays tribute to her historical strides for Black artists nevertheless. The track “The Linda Martell Show” (wherein Martell poses as the host of her own radio show) acts as a foil to Willie Nelson’s “Smoke Hour” — Beyoncé here reimagines the career of Martell, granting her the accreditation to host her own show, something history previously never afforded her.
Miley Cyrus & Post Malone
Beyoncé’s respect for innovation rings loud and clear in her inclusion of Miley Cyrus and Post Malone on CC. Each share a vocal duet with Beyoncé on the album — Miley sings “II Most Wanted” and Post Malone contributes to the track “Levii’s Jeans.”
Though both are primarily known as pop artists, each has a career largely informed by their capacity to genrebend. Miley, daughter of country icon Billy Ray Cyrus and God-daugher of Dolly Parton, adds additional credibility to Beyoncé’s country venture. Throughout her career, Miley has traversed country, rock, pop, and R&B.
Similarly, Post Malone has woven together pop, alternative R&B, hip-hop, and indie throughout his career, and many speculate that he will soon release a country album.
It should be noted that both Miley Cyrus and Post Malone have been able to immerse themselves in genres that are historically Black throughout their respective careers. That both have moved between country and R&B without controversy is telling; their capacity to do so seamlessly and successfully demonstrates how white artists are able to express themselves fluidly without systemic repercussions. It is this very ease that Beyoncé wishes to cultivate for artists of every race; in her Instagram post about the release of the album, she writes, “My hope is that years from now, the mention of an artist’s race, as it relates to releasing genres of music, will be irrelevant.”
Raphael Saddiq
Referred to by music critic Robert Chrisgau as the “preeminent R&B artist of the ’90s,” Raphael Saddiq made mark as an American singer, songwriter, record producer, and multi-instrumentalist. He rose to fame in the ’90s with his R&B/soul group, Tony! Toni! Toné!, and went on to have a successful solo career. Additionally, he has produced songs for musical giants such as Erykah Badu, Stevie Wonder, TLC, D’Angelo, Solange Knowles (Beyoncé’s sister), John Legend, and more.
He is credited 18 times over the course of Cowboy Carter for his producing, writing, and instrumental contributions to the tracklist.
Recording artist Brei Carter is currently enjoying the best of both worlds for any performer. She’s found her niche artistically and is thriving in it, excelling in a hybrid sound she calls “country soul,” one that nicely blends each genre’s special characteristics: soul’s emotional fury and country’s narrative focus. Louisiana born, she relocated to Nashville in 2019 is now working on an upcoming LP that she promises will really show listeners how much these two genres can be combined into her own distinctive style.
“I’ve always kind of gravitated towards all kinds of music, but vocally I’ve found that soul and country are the styles that work best,” Carter said during a recent interview. “For me, it’s no stretch to say that I love soul and I love traditional country. Those are the styles and songs that I grew up listening to and those are the ones that really are suited for the types of things that I want to sing.”
Considering the long history of performers who’ve taken soul tunes and made them into country hits or vice versa, Carter’s certainly in good company.
But, she’s also enjoying commercial success in a different vein. Her single, “Boots Get To Talking,” has quickly become a line dance staple. An energetic, engaging number that’s also a collaboration with the person she calls “my mentor and inspiration,” Elektrohorse, the song has generated its own line dance, something that Carter immediately credits Elektrohorse with enhancing and developing.
“When I first played him the song and told him what I wanted to do, I had my own ideas for how it would work as a line dance,” Carter continued. “He told me, ‘Brei, I’ve got some ideas, too. I think we can really do something with this.’ He took it and did some things with it that I never would have considered and he made it into something huge.”
“Boots Get To Talking” is one of those songs that really has something for every taste. It certainly has a catchy backbeat, equal parts honky-tonk and hip-hop. There’s some underlying blues feel to it as well, but when utilized in the line-dance environment the tune has an added energy and fury. “It’s my new anthem,” Carter adds, “And I’m so happy that it’s getting such a great reaction and response everywhere. It’s also a signal that people will always respond to good music and songs that make them happy and make them feel good.”
That desire, to reach across boundaries and unite people through music, has always been a big part of Carter’s performing mission. Her musical background growing up in Monroe, Louisiana included equal parts Loretta Lynn, Aretha Franklin, Charley Pride, and gospel music: “Plus a healthy dose of Cajun and Zydeco,” Carter adds. “That’s where my love of dance was developed. In those dance halls, no one ever sits down.”
Carter’s earned impressive academic credentials: a Bachelors in Business from University of Louisiana in Monroe, a Masters in International Relations from Webster University, and a Doctorate in Theology from New Foundation Theological Seminary. She’s also a proud U.S. Army veteran, having served as an enlisted soldier and as an officer.
After deciding that music would be her career path, Carter’s been carefully crafting her style. Her first single, “Gave Him A Girl,” got enough positive attention to lead to appearances on RFD-TV, WSMV-TV, WoodSongs’ Old-Time Radio Hour, among others. She made her CMA Fest debut in 2022, and released her debut album, Brand New Country, which featured a fine cover of Charley Pride’s “Kiss an Angel Good Morning,” and the powerful biographical piece, “Stronger Than That.” Carter released her most recent single last year, “Straight Up Country Crazy,” as well as her first Holiday EP, the critically acclaimed Twinkling Tales of Christmas.
Still, she acknowledges it took a while before she really understood exactly what she wanted to do from a technical perspective. “I realize now that my voice really does fall right in that middle area between country and soul,” Carter continued. “That’s a territory where I’m comfortable, and that’s really the area that I want to emphasize now.” With an upcoming series of concert dates set to begin this month, plus her new LP that will be coming later this year, Brei Carter feels really confident about the future.
“I’m really happy about where things are going for me musically, and what the future holds,” Carter concludes. “I’ve found the right mix musically, and the line-dance hit has really been a blessing, as has working with Elektrohorse. I’m very much ready to see what’s coming next.”
There’s no group around who either looks or sounds like The Shindellas, a trio who’ve shown they can charm audiences in every setting – from a New Year’s Eve party hosted by Nashville’s top urban contemporary radio station, 92Q, to a Grand Ole Opry crowd on a Tuesday night. Kasi Jones, Tamara Chauniece, and Stacy Johnson exude confidence, charm, and poise with very specific and thoughtful outlooks not only about their music, but also the messages they want their fans to get from their songs.
“We embrace the term girl group,” Kasi said, when asked if they found the term outdated or demeaning when used in 21st century conversation. “We’re always been about empowering women and girls, expressing strength and unity in our songs about love and life, and telling the truth. We view ourselves as expressing the term in every positive sense.”
They’ve been operating since 2017 in the town of Franklin, 20 miles south of Nashville. The trio arrived to become part of Weirdo Workshop, a company started by the writing/production duo of Claude Kelly and Chuck Harmony, Louis York. Their versatility and flexibility in working with artists – such as Mary J. Blige, Miley Cyrus, and Bruno Mars – and in particular women artists, all who come from vastly different places, has worked well. The Shindellas credit Kelly and Harmony with, among other things, providing them their unique name.
“It was definitely Claude and Chuck’s idea,” added Tamara. “We wanted a name that sounded fresh and generated excitement, as well as one that didn’t sound like anything else out there at the time.”
The Shindellas also emphasize and celebrate the collective, both as performers and songwriters. There is no lead vocalist by definition and each one doesn’t even consider that possibility. This is the ultimate trio, one whose harmonies and polish are pinpoint, yet there’s no hint of the tedium or boredom that might come from a group who’s overly rehearsed. The emphasis and focus on originality in performance, ethos, look, and viewpoint is also a reflection of the fact that all three have their own backstories of dissatisfaction – with things that they’ve witnessed and/or encountered, in terms of the music business. Stacy Johnson once worked with a family-operated music company in Chicago, before moving on to doing vocals on dance tracks, plus a brief tenure in a girl group where she quickly departed over concerns about how she was being asked to present herself. She was intrigued by Harmony’s idea of creating a trio whose members valued respect in every aspect of their treatment and presentation.
Jones had seen some of the worse aspects of predator behavior in Los Angeles after she’d previously done musical theater and booked her own overseas tours as a contemporary soul artist. When she made a visit to the Workshop and was impressed by the treatment and attitudes, she knew she’d found what she wanted. Chauniece had been a child gospel singer working on the Texas circuit with her mother managing her. She got a temporary boost in exposure and stature from being on the fifth season of The Voice, but was uncomfortable with the notion of getting lost on a major label. Both the Workshop and the trio’s other two members proved an ideal fit.
The Shindellas have definitely been expanding their fan base and earning more acclaim over the past few years. Their 2019 EP Genesis created some buzz and more followed their 2021 full-length debut, Hits That Stick Like Grits. In addition, their elegant and elaborate stage shows drew raves for being classy, yet also enticing. But their latest, Shindo, which was released in October, has given them the industry boost always vital for acts that are still building a base. It’s given them their first radio hit with “Last Night Was Good For My Soul,” an energetic, superbly sung party tune that reached the Top 10 on the Billboard Adult R&B airplay chart. It was also the first one where they got an assist from an outside partner, as the Nashville indie label Thirty Tigers helped propel the single forward.
Shindo is also a great spotlight for the group’s stylistic versatility. While their links to such vintage girl groups as The Supremes and The Pointer Sisters can clearly be heard, they’ve also got their own vibrant, engaging, and special sound.
For instance, the single “Up 2 You” demonstrates their ability to excel within a groove-dominated work, while “Kiss N’ Tell” has an edge in its discretion-demanding narrative, and “Juicy” has a sassy, naughty tone. The “Juicy” video also generated plenty of attention for its inclusion of Kasi Jones reading Angela Davis’ volume, Women, Race & Class.
Still, while they never expressly embrace the notion of a lead or front vocalist, at times, some songs do spotlight individual members talents. Jones’ facility with verbal improvisation emerges in “Last Night Was Good For My Soul” as one example. Yet, the notion of any one vocalist exiting the unit – in the manner that Diana Ross did the Supremes or like Bonnie Pointer departing her sisters – doesn’t seem on the horizon.
While Nashville has long had a reputation for not exactly welcoming artists of color that don’t fit into very specific genres or formats, the Shindellas are quick to praise Music City as being highly supportive of their music. “Nashville has welcomed us with open arms,” Johnson says. “We’ve never been treated with anything other than warmth and respect, and that’s whether we’re talking about the Opry, urban contemporary radio, fans, it’s just been wonderful.”
The trio has some ambitious plans and hopes for 2024 and beyond, our interview being completed just before the end of 2023. Most notably, they have some potential European and international tours upcoming. “I’d love to see us get some of our music into some films down the line,” Johnson continues. “We’d love to do more shows around Nashville,” chimes in Tamara. “Especially the Ryman, and we’re also thrilled to be appearing at the New Year’s Eve Party sponsored by 92Q!”
“We also are going to be doing more songwriting and collaborating [in 2024],” concluded Jones. “We really want to not only build a lasting legacy as performers, but also contribute as songwriters. We’ve all got backgrounds in other styles and we bring those influences into our performances. We’ve also got ideas for songs that we’ve been working on. I predict that people are really going to be pleased with what they hear from us, and we’re determined to make 2024 an even bigger year for the Shindellas.”
Over his entire Grammy-nominated career, Brent Cobb has made no secret of being guided by a “Southern Star” – a rootsy creative beacon shining high above and seeming to point straight down on his South Georgia home.
A native of the Peach state, Cobb has staked a claim on the organic side of country, with acclaimed projects like Shine On a Rainy Day, Providence Canyon, and even the 2022 gospel set, And Now, Let’s Turn to Page…. Each one paints a loving portrait of Southern life, looking far beyond the cliches for inspiration. But with his new album Southern Star, those pictures are more vivid (and more Southern) than ever.
Finding easy-going wisdom and big-picture beauty in the simple minutiae of everyday life, Southern Star is engrossed in all things Georgia. Ten tender tracks were recorded in Macon, using Georgian musicians and embracing the sonic history of the region. That means a warm, humid mix of back-porch country and rural R&B, with funky (but feather soft) bass lines and a casual vocal drawl, as Cobb invites listeners in to his personal world – a world full of unexpected contrasts, and undeniable human wonder.
Speaking with BGS from that South Georgia home on a sunny fall day – perhaps the last one of the lawn-mowing season, he says – the humble and homegrown singer-songwriter explains what makes his Southern Star shine so bright.
Every artist or songwriter goes through phases of how they think about their role. What’s important to you these days?
Brent Cobb: It really hasn’t changed a whole lot. I know that doesn’t sound good, but I always try to still focus on my roots of where I’m from, and I try to still be universally personal, personally universal. … I think there’s something so poetic about specifically the American South and rural life, but also something that if you do it right, anybody anywhere can relate to it. So that’s really what I try to do. I try to make music that my kids can enjoy and that my grandma could enjoy, and everybody in between.
Tell me a little bit about Southern Star, the imagery of that title, specifically. I mean, is this kind of a play on the idea of a North Star guiding you?
Partly, yeah. You always learn growing up, if you get lost out there, you look for the Northern Star, it’ll guide you and give you direction. But I’m from South Georgia, so I look for the Southern Star. [Laughs] … So partly that. Then there was also my buddy ‘Rowdy’ Jason Cope, who was the founding member of The Steel Woods and played electric guitar for Jamey Johnson from 2008 until 2014 or so. He’s no longer with us [Cope passed away at age 42 in 2021, after suffering “severe complications from diabetes”]. But during those days he lived about 45 minutes outside Nashville, and I’d go down there to his place and we’d go to this little bar and it was a pretty seedy little spot where we’d hang out, it was called the Southern Star.
Plus, I often thought about my buddy as someone who sort of behind the scenes had a lot of influence on a lot of people, but they may not even be aware of it. He never got to be a superstar, but if nothing else he was a Southern star. And I feel that same way about myself sometimes. So there are a couple different meanings behind it. … I miss him every day.
The other part of this album is what seems like a love letter to Georgia – and maybe just the whole region. It can be easy to misunderstand the Southern people and the area, and you’ve called it kind of a melting pot, right? What’s so inspiring to you about Georgia?
I think it’s because, well, first of all the American South as a whole, there would be no music as we know it if not for the American South. And that comes with its blessings and the curses, and it wouldn’t be the same place without those things also. Specifically Macon is the home of Otis Redding and Little Richard, and then you have Ray Charles from right down the road, and then right up the road you got James Brown, and then of course the Allman Brothers. There’s so many endless artists that have influenced the whole world.
But then even just as day-to-day life, where I’m from, every school I went to, we’re all mixed in together down here. We’re living and praying and learning and working all together. It’s easy to be on the outside and look in, and go, ‘Man, the South, what a terrible place.’ And there are some terrible things that still happen to this day, and historically that are terrible, but for the most part we’re all living and working and eating and breathing together. You don’t hear about that side of the South so much. But I think that’s why the music from here is so influencing and so profound – it isn’t just one way. And you got people that obviously have had to struggle and people who still struggle to this day, but that’s where the good shit comes from. That’s where the great art comes from, for better or worse.
I read that this was your first self-produced record. Did it have a different vibe working that way, or did the sound come out any different?
Luckily I was able to use a couple of my friends as guinea pigs, so I got a little comfortable in the producer’s seat [on previous projects]. But more than anything I believe first of all, to make a great album, you need great songs, and then you can record them any way you want to record them. If it’s a great song, it’s a great song no matter what.
… I think the second most important part of making a great album is the drums and percussion. Once you have those two things, you can really leave it at that and it’s going to be great. Folks can sing along and might want to dance a little bit. You’re going to be fine.
Then you need a little funky bass part. And, being from that area of the music I heard my whole life – soul music and gospel music, it all has keys. So I knew I had to have some keys and organ on there. I don’t know that it was much different [from other records], except for this time I had nearly 20 years of experience.
“It’s a Start” is such an interesting track. On the surface, it’s just about simple things. But it seems to kind of point at a bigger truth, right? Where’d that come from?
Well, I appreciate you noticing that, because it’s with intent. I try to do that with most all of my songs – like I said earlier, to make something personal, make it universal. What is the core of that emotion or that experience? And vice versa, universally personal. That song particularly, I wanted to throw everybody off and not give that song a double meaning.
Really, why’s that?
I feel like sometimes I’m stuck in between two worlds. Sometimes I feel like people only think ‘Oh, there’s Brent writing another album about Georgia.’ And then I feel like some people go, ‘What is the deeper meaning here?’ Most of the time there is one for me, but that song is really about nothing and intentionally, it’s about exactly what it says.
People can get real meta about certain songwriters, but I just think that’s a mark of a really good artist.
Yeah I’m not ever complaining as long as anybody’s listening for any reason. I do think it’s funny though. Sometimes I feel like other songwriters may get the benefit of the doubt, like it’ll be a really on-the-nose double meaning, just real obvious that, “Oh, okay, you meant to give it this undercurrent.” Then other songwriters, sometimes I feel like including myself, they do not get that benefit. They only get the doubt. [Laughs]
Call me a simple man – I am. There should always be a little something extra in there if someone’s looking for it. But I also think a songwriter should do their best to craft it so that it can be enjoyed at face value.
“Shade Tree” seems like a fitting way to end things, then. It wraps the record up with a peaceful, soothing scene. Where did that come from?
Well, my sister and I had started that song two years probably before I even knew that I was going to make an album. My sister is such a wonderful singer and she’s got a lot of soul in her voice, but like me, she has a kid. It’s hard to just sit down and write a song together. Well, then I get studio time booked and I wanted to finish that song because I thought it really defined Southern Star as a way of life in the South – there was a pecan tree in my grandma’s backyard, so after church and after Sunday dinner, the whole family would hang out under it in the shade tree. A lot of things happened [under that tree] …
The day before going in the studio, I went over to my sister’s house and I had dropped my kids off at school, and we drank some coffee on her back porch amongst some pine trees. Then my wife, she threw in some lines and it became a family affair. And yeah, it seemed fitting.
The whole thing seems like it has so much personal meaning. What do you hope people take away from this one?
More than anything I always hope, like I’ve said, that it’s universally personal. I hope that anybody will be able to take away from it whatever they feel. And if nothing else, I hope they can just enjoy it in the background.
At 77 years-old, singer and song interpreter extraordinaire Bettye LaVette just keeps going. Her new album, LaVette!, features a set of songs so perfectly suited to the recording artist’s voice and perspective many listeners assume she wrote the material herself. But this collection was all penned by Randall Bramblett, whose songs were first selected by LaVette’s husband of 20 years, Kevin Kiley.
“[Kevin] has actually sought out these tunes for me, about 100 tunes,” LaVette explains via phone. “He narrows it down to about 50 that he knows I’ll like and then I narrow it down to the 10 I’m going to record… But if I could write, these songs are exactly what I would have written.”
Whether she’s covering Bob Dylan, The Beatles, Van Morrison, or Bramblett, LaVette has a striking ability to make a song her own – a hallmark of her style since her earliest days as a recording artist, tracking singles like “He Made a Woman Out of Me” and “Nearer to You” as a teen, now more than 60 years ago. For this installment of First & Latest, we compare and contrast these two early singles from the late ’60s with LaVette’s latest album, which has a special vinyl edition dropping today, Friday, August 18, with a vinyl-exclusive track, “What You Don’t Say” featuring Reverend Charles Hodges of Hi Rhythm on organ. Hear a BGS-exclusive preview of “What You Don’t Say” above.
We reached LaVette via phone to chat about her First & Latest recordings and about what’s changed within her creative process and her perspective over the last 60+ years.
BGS: What goes through your mind when you listen back to those first recordings of yourself from the earliest days of your career? What comes back to you? What do you remember about those times and recording those tracks?
BL: I don’t think I look at it quite so sentimentally. They’re just fleeting. There’s no one big thing. From your questions, I immediately knew that you were probably very young. [Laughs] Because old people don’t think like that. That’s what you might think about, but do you know how many singles I had before I even had an album? The fact that I wasn’t having an album out was not a pleasing situation. Those singles made me think of various things, but it wasn’t on a trajectory, the way you may think about it.
I do know that since this journey of mine started when I was 16 years old, I was thinking something different during that period. You know you age in periods of about five years at a time, so from 16 to about 20 or 21 I saw one thing – and I kind of felt that way about everything! Not just a particular song or anything, that was just my mindset for about five or six years.
[“He Made a Woman Out of Me” and “Nearer to You,”] those songs were back to back and were meant to be an A side and B side. They were the first time I recorded in Nashville, with the people that became the Memphis Horns, with Wayne Jackson as leader. I was in love with him. And that’s what I remember most. [Laughs]
At that juncture, when you were recording those tracks, did you think you would still be singing this many years later? Did you hope you would be? What was your frame of mind?
No. I thought I was going to be a star right after that came out and that would be it. I didn’t think in long range at that point. I’m thinking in long range now. Like, “Am I gonna get through this next tour?” That’s long range now. I saw somebody with a t-shirt the other day that said, “Do not fuck with old people. Life terms in jail do not bother them.” I will kill you!! [Laughs] No…
If somebody had even come up to me and said, “At 77 you will have a new album out.” I would have been like, “Okay… and it’s been large talking to you.” [Laughs] You know, I don’t know that anybody – if they exist they are certainly more brilliant than I – who were thinking at 20 about what they were going to be doing at 77. We’ve got to force ourselves to think that way, we plan better.
Listening to your music made me think about how it has morphed and changed over the years, but also how it has stayed the same. I think there’s so much enjoyment and so much love in what you do, musically. Is that what’s kept you going and kept you in it?
Do you seriously believe, even if this was my husband we were talking about and I married him when I was 16 years old, do you seriously think I’d still be getting giddy every time I saw him? [Laughs]
I don’t know how to do anything else this proficiently! [Laughs] And I would look foolish trying to do something new. I do this well, it would be stupid for me not to do it. And since they didn’t let me get rich, I can’t not do it. But have you listened to the new recording? Have you listened to the lyrics?
Yes! I love it.
[Sings:] “I keep right on rolling, but the thrill is gone…” and I don’t say anything I don’t mean, at this point. [Laughs] No, honey! I’m somebody’s grandmother! If you think I want to put on real tight clothes, a lot of makeup, and go holler and scoot across the stage, you’re wrong. [Laughs]
But I would like at this point, I would like to have what I keep calling a “Ray Charles career,” where they pay a lot of money for the tickets. Everybody’s sitting down. It’s a beautiful venue. And I just sit there and talk to them and sing for an hour to two hours and a half. But, no! [The music business] isn’t even what I think about when I’m not doing it.
[Laughs]
Now, don’t laugh at old people… [Laughs]
The tracks that we chose from the latest album are “Lazy (And I Know It)” and “In the Meantime,” and I wanted to start talking about how you’re known kind of famously as being this song interpreter, somebody who takes songs and makes them your own. How do you find songs? What’s your process for collecting and putting together a collection of songs?
It took me 50 years and kissing a lot of frogs to find a husband. And he loves music. He has everything that everyone has ever recorded in the history of the world. [Laughs] I’m exaggerating, but he is a record historian and a record collector. This still thrills him, even if it doesn’t thrill me. We just celebrated our 20th anniversary and in the 20 years we’ve been together this career, this “fifth career,” I call it, has been going on that whole time. He has actually sought out these tunes for me, about 100 tunes. Then he narrows it down to about 50 that he knows I’ll like and then I narrow it down to the 10 I’m going to record. I could not sit at this point and listen to that much music for any reason in the world.
[Kevin] pretty much knows what I like. When I’m looking for a song, the lyrics have got to be solid. Absolutely solid. I’m too old to look in your face and say bullshit. As I said, I mean the lyrics that I sing. This young man, [Randall Bramblett,] he wrote all the tunes on this album, he said, “Do all the tunes have to be about you?” I said, “Yes.” [Laughs] He said, “Okay…”
But listen, I’ve lived 77 years now. There isn’t a genre of song you could write that wouldn’t pertain to me at this point. And that is why there are so many different genres of songs on the album. I picked the ones out of them that that pertain to me.
Everybody keeps saying in interviews, “Did you write the songs? Did you write them for you? Did you write them together?” None of those things are true! [Bramblett] and I are about two years apart in age. He’s the only person I know who’s had more flop records than I have. [Laughs] He’s done the same thing, devoted his whole life to it for 50 or 60 years, and he pretty much feels the way I feel about this. There were adjustments I had to make in the tunes, but if I could write, these songs are exactly what I would have written.
I’m very pleased with them. When you talk about the tunes, like when you when you were talking about “He Made a Woman Out of Me,” since I was 20, I have just become such a different singer now. The basics of me have always been there, but I’ve broadened so and become such a different thing, a different woman. “He Made a Woman Out of Me,” by now it’s almost a throwaway, a novelty [song] on stage. I sing it when I’m somewhere where people are familiar with it, but it’s no longer a part of my show. It’s now just a part of my life. And my recordings’ lineage.
I wanted to ask you about “Lazy (And I Know It),” because I make this joke constantly lately that laziness is a radical act–
You know what, I’m writing this down – and I’m slapping you! [Laughs] A radical act! [Turns to her husband,] He said “Laziness is a radical act!”
You know what? White people associate laziness with Black people so much, I took the tune out of the list 50 times. [Laughs] I’d take it off, then I’d put it back. I put it back [ultimately] because I was thinking about – girlfriend in Blazing Saddles… She’s laying in the bed. She’s like, “I’m just tired.” Wasn’t she named Lili Von… something? But I thought about it and I think that’s the attitude that I wanna have about it. Oh yes, Lili Von Shtupp!
Yes!!
I entertained myself with it. When I could make it entertaining to me and I got away from that initial feeling, then it was just fun. And it’s just fun to do on stage. I love it.
What do you do when you need to be lazy when you need to take a vacation? What’s your what’s your favorite way to relax?
Oh no, I just come home. I like to be at home. I’ve got 50 plants in the house and with summer, I’ve got 1,084! Me and the deer have been having a constant battle over whose hostas they are, mine or theirs. I love my home. If my mother had lived to know that I would love being at home, she could have lived to be 200 years old, because she could have just been so satisfied.
I don’t want to go out to dinner. I entertain at parties, at a place where people are having a good time. And I drink and I eat and I don’t want to do that when I come home. I want to taste my food that I cook and you know, but I’m not that anxious to look decent and go out and have dinner.
It’s remarkable that a prolific artist such as Rhiannon Giddens could reach this juncture in her career and still be accomplishing notable firsts. This time, she’s putting out her first album of all original material – called You’re the One – since she began her post-Carolina Chocolate Drops solo career in the 2010s. On a recent airing of CBS Saturday Morning, Giddens and her band performed two tracks from the album: “Too Little, Too Late, Too Bad” and the project’s title track, “You’re the One.”
From a genre perspective, You’re the One is one of Giddens’ most expansive works to date, drawing on her endless knowledge of folk and vernacular musics to craft a sound that’s rootsy, yes, but ultimately demonstrates the down home, everyday, and Black origins of all popular American musics. “Too Little, Too Late, Too Bad,” for instance, was co-written with Giddens’ longtime friend and collaborator, fiddler Dirk Powell, to channel the late, legendary Aretha Franklin. The album includes accordions, horns, globally-inspired percussion (by Giddens’ partner Francesco Turrisi), countrypolitan strings, and so much more. Produced by Jack Splash, You’re the One seems to draw on Giddens’ penchant for the theatrical more prominently than previous outings. She did, after all, just win a Pulitzer Prize for her opera, Omar, so the performative elements of this record seem to draw equally from folk and stage traditions.
Among a discography chocked full of essential works, You’re the One is still a landmark release by Giddens, further establishing – and complicating – her unique and indelible voice and once again highlighting the diverse and representative lineages that gave rise to all American roots music forms, with joy and love centered in every note.
Sunny War’s stunning new album, Anarchist Gospel, is never preachy, because it doesn’t need to be. War’s evocation of both anarchy and gospel in this context is strikingly grounded, blossoming from everyday understandings and interactions with each concept. And deeper still, in these sweeping, grand arrangements built on sturdy bones of fingerstyle, folk-informed right-hand guitar techniques, she indicates actions really do speak louder than words.
These songs are active. Bold, resplendent, and broad with dense, fully-realized production leading to tender, contemplative, and microscopic moments, War draws from her lived experiences, her days and years navigating poverty, living unhoused, sheltering in abandoned buildings, relying on and offering mutual aid, to direct messages of hope, resilience, resistance, and joy, not just to us, her listeners, but also to herself.
Perhaps that’s why, in this collection of songs born out of a harrowing and challenging emotional, spiritual, and mental period of Sunny War’s more recent past, there is so much hope in hopelessness, a constant – though sometimes minute – light shimmering at the end of the tunnel. Anarchist Gospel isn’t preaching at us, because she is compassionately, kindly, and tenderly talking to herself. And we all, as listeners, audience members, and fans, are just so fortunate enough to be brought into this internal dialogue, from which we can learn and challenge ourselves, and each other, to make a better world for everyone right now.
It’s a record whose underpinning moral-to-the-story is never burdensome or heavy, but rather uplifting and soaring, exactly as an Anarchist Gospel ought to be. We began our Cover Story interview connecting with Sunny War at home in Chattanooga over the phone, discussing how anarchy is not simply an academic concept, but a real, everyday practice.
I know that in your life, anarchy isn’t just a concept, it has a very real, concrete application in your day-to-day. I think first of your work with Food Not Bombs and the mutual aid work you’ve done in Los Angeles – and wherever you’ve lived. A lot of people right now, especially in younger generations, have frames of reference for anarchy and collectivism and mutual aid work, but usually in the abstract. As if these concepts can only be for some imagined future. So why is anarchy something you wanted to represent in the album and its title, and what does the concept of anarchy mean in your life?
Sunny War: The album title isn’t really political, to me. I felt like the big choruses [on the album] felt gospel in a way, but it wasn’t religious so I felt like it was Anarchist Gospel. It was really because of the one song, “Whole,” where I just felt like the message of the song was kind of about anarchy, in a way that most people could understand. I guess I’m more of a socialist now, but it’s the same sentiment. I just want people to have what they need. That’s more what anarchy means to me. It seems like it’s government that’s in the way of people getting what they need.
For me, it’s more personal. When I was homeless, a lot of times we would be living in abandoned buildings and we’d get arrested for that. Anarchy, to me, means, “Why can’t we be here? Nobody else is going to be in here. Why are you keeping us from this?” It feels weird that we don’t get to claim where we live, but other people do. Why do they have more rights to the same places? I don’t know if that’s anarchy, so much as I just think people have a right to everything.
It feels like there’s this agnosticism to the album, this come-togetherness, as something we can all feel and inhabit without necessarily being called to by a higher power. We really can all realize, whatever our starting points, that all we have is each other.
I’m not against people that need God, or whatever. I’ve been in places where I’ve felt like I wanted to believe in that before, so I can relate to where that comes from. But then, I don’t know… [Laughs] Whether it’s religious or spiritual, I don’t know.
This sounds like a record where we’re all supposed to be singing along. Part of that is the gospel tones, the title but also in the genre and production style, but part of it is also the messages here. Uplifting people from darkness, hope in hopelessness – so to me, so many moments on this album feel like church!
I love church! I grew up in church – well, I don’t love church, but I love gospel. I still listen to gospel and I guess I’m being nostalgic, but also it just slaps. That’s just good music. If you like original R&B, it’s the basis of so much of American music. I wish it was a little more, I dunno… I guess I wish it wasn’t religious. [Laughs] Then I’d really be into it. But it’s cool how it is.
In the moments in this record that feel like they’re at the lowest point, I still hear so much hope. I hear surrender in this album, not the kind that’s giving up, but the kind that feels generative and hopeful – especially in “I Got No Fight” and “Hopeless” and “Higher.”
This record was a lot of me talking to myself. It’s definitely the loneliest I’ve ever been writing something. Every other album I’ve ever made, I was in a relationship. This was different. After me and my ex broke up, I wasn’t even really socializing with my friends, because we had the same friends and I was embarrassed about our break up. I was so bitter, I didn’t want to be around anyone. I felt like I couldn’t be around anyone. I was barely leaving the house, I was isolating myself and got really morbid. I wasn’t turning lights on. [Laughs] I would sit in the dark a lot, I was lighting candles – [Laughing] I don’t really know what was going on, but it was mostly bad, I would drink a lot, and then I’d be like, “I’m drinking too much, I gotta get sober.” It would just repeat over and over again. But I was desperately trying to finish the album, because I was broke. I had the deal with New West, but I still had to produce the album before anything could get rolling. It was just what I had to do, but I was also going insane at the same time, and really angry.
Do you feel like making the record brought closure to any of that for you? I feel like I can hear a release of tension in this album, but I wonder where that comes from, because so many of the songs, individually, have these big, emotional releases. How does it feel to be at this point, looking back with the clarity you have now?
The second I wrote “I Got No Fight” I remember immediately feeling better. I made the demo, and afterwards it made me feel like I was just having a tantrum. But it was like I had to make the song to really understand what I was going through. After making the demo, I realized, “I am just freaking out, I think I’m having a panic attack.” After hearing this song, it helped me understand like, “This is not real, this is just a temporary feeling.” But I couldn’t really feel anything else until after that.
I have spent so much time over the past couple years trying to teach myself that the point of feelings is to feel them.
Yeah, but they suck most of the time. [Laughs] I don’t want most of them.
The line in that song, “Sometimes the end is the only light I see,” might be my favorite line on the record. There’s nihilism and existentialism in it, but it doesn’t feel hopeless or despairing. It’s kind of a cheerful, “Oh right! Nothing matters!” Where did that line come from for you?
That gets me through the day, a lot. Sometimes I think of life as just a jail sentence and I always think like, “Well, I probably am only going to live fifty more years at the most.” Sometimes that helps me get through the day. [Laughs] I know that that sounds negative, but that can really be uplifting if you chose for it to be!
It feels a lot lighter, to me at least, once you realize that nothing matters. Suddenly you can laugh a little bit more, improvise more – like lately, I’ve been trying to accept that I have no idea what I’m doing. I’m trying to get comfortable with it. In my twenties, I felt like I was trying to make plans all the time, planning so far into the future and just getting disappointed with stuff. It’s better to [recognize] – which is almost like religious people – you’re just powerless. Just try to eat something, drink some water. [Laughs]
Let’s talk about your guitar playing. I love your right hand so much. I think what’s entrancing about your guitar on this album is that it’s holding these songs together, but not as much as a rhythmic instrument or comping instrument, like in your past records. It’s more textural, to add depth and complexity, but your playing is still so hooky, melodically. Your personality comes through the guitar on top of all of these tracks. How did you accomplish that balance, having the guitar front and center and immediate, but it’s also not necessarily the centerpiece of these songs?
I think it’s because this is the first record where I knew how to use Logic, so my demos were almost full tracks already. I was adding keyboard and bass and programming drums to things before even going into the studio. A lot of the songs are all based on riffs that I’ve had for a while, that I couldn’t figure out how to use. Before, a lot of my other stuff, I was just writing a song. Now, I just collect guitar parts and I try to make them work in something, but I don’t really have a [plan for them, initially.] I’m basing it more off the guitar parts now.
How do you like the banjo? Is this the first time you had banjo on a record?
Yeah!
What do you think writing on the banjo leads you to that a guitar or keys or writing on another instrument wouldn’t lead you to?
Anything that’s tuned differently makes me have to think differently about stuff. I still don’t really “get” the banjo, it’s weird because I have had a banjo for over 10 years now, but it still seems like something I’m trying to learn about. I just recently got okay with being like, “I’m just going to make sounds with it.” I’m not going to try to “learn” it. [Laughs] I definitely want to make more songs with the banjo – and maybe even without a guitar, and see what that’s like. Some of my favorite buskers I’ve ever seen are just a singer with a banjo. I think it makes people sing different. I gotta get my banjos out now…
Guitar culture – guitar shop culture, guitar show culture – it’s such a toxically masculine scene, and it’s so competitive and punishing, that I kind of have realized over the past few years that the people helping me realize I still love the guitar and guitar culture are all women and femmes. Like, Jackie Venson, Molly Tuttle, folks like Celisse and Madison Cunningham, or like Kaki King and Megan McCormick and Joy Clark – I can think of so many guitarists who aren’t just really good, but they’re also pushing the envelope, they’re innovating, and they have really strong perspectives and voices on the instrument, like yourself. So I wanted to ask you about your own relationship with guitar culture and the guitar scene, because as a queer banjo player who loves music, I kinda hate people who love guitar. But I’ve been so grateful that all these women are reminding me I can love guitar and it’s not just a patriarchal, toxically masculine instrument and scene.
I just try to stay out of it. Sometimes at shows, guitar guys talk to me and I just tell them, “I don’t know. I don’t know.” [Laughs] Because I don’t want to get into any discussion about it. I know a lot of people who can really play, but [guitar guys] make it so you have to be kinda crazy, kinda obsessive. And it’s so competitive. That doesn’t sound fun to me. I don’t get how that’s fun anymore. It’s not art, at that point. It’s almost like a sport. Which you can, go ahead and practice scales all day so you can play the fastest, but then a lot of times people can be really technically good, but there’s no soul in it. They’re just trying to cram as many riffs into something as possible. They take all the art out of it, they’re technically playing perfectly, but I don’t feel anything.
I would much rather be listening to my favorite guitar player, who is Yasmin Williams. It’s not just because of technical ability, but because it’s progressive. I’m like, “That’s outta the box, I don’t know where that’s going.” That’s what I like about it.
When Leon Timbo was a teenager, he prayed for a singing voice. As a young poet and the child of a preacher, he was a born storyteller, but he dreamed of being able to sing. Leon’s remarkable artistic journey has been the answer to that prayer.
Timbo started writing and performing songs on DIY solo tours in his native Florida, eventually expanding his reach across the United States. He focused on connecting with each audience member and immediately started building a loyal following. It was on one of these tours that musician and actor Tyrese Gibson fell in love with his music and storytelling and invited Leon to open for him. Gibson’s mentorship helped Leon hone his sound and opened massive doors of opportunity.
Each step of Leon’s musical path has been guided by faith, spirituality, and the power of human connection. He has performed with the legendary Fisk Jubilee Singers and hung out at a bar with Quincy Jones. He has a unique take on Americana, R&B, gospel, and folk music. His new album, Lovers & Fools, Vol. II, is a vehicle for his hopeful worldview, and of course, for his spectacular voice.
Known as the Gate City, Greensboro, North Carolina is a transitional town: hub of the Piedmont between the mountain high country to the west and coastal Sandhill Plains to the east, and a city defined by the people who have come, gone, and passed through over the years. As a crossroads location, it has long been a way station for many endeavors, including touring musicians – from the likes of the Rolling Stones and Jimi Hendrix at the Greensboro Coliseum, the state’s largest indoor arena, to James Brown and Otis Redding at clubs like the El Rocco on the Chitlin’ Circuit. Throw in the country and string band influences from the textile mill towns in the area, and the regional style of the Piedmont blues, and you’ve got yourself quite the musical melting pot.
This historical mixture was not lost on one of Greensboro’s own, Rhiannon Giddens – one of modern day Americana’s ultimate crossover artists. A child of black and white parents, she grew up in the area hearing folk and country music, participating in music programs in local public schools, and eventually going on to study opera at Oberlin Conservatory in Ohio. Once she returned to North Carolina and came under the study of fiddler Joe Thompson and the Black string band tradition, she began playing folk music and forged an artistic identity steeped in classical as well as vernacular music. In this episode of Carolina Calling, we spoke with Giddens about her background in Greensboro and how growing up mixed and immersed in various cultures, in a city so informed by its history of segregation and status as a key civil rights battleground, informed her artistic interests and endeavors, musical styles, and her mission in the music industry.
Subscribe to Carolina Calling on any and all podcast platforms to follow along as we journey across the Old North State, visiting towns like Durham, Wilmington, Shelby, and more.
Music featured in this episode:
Rhiannon Giddens – “Black is the Color” Andrew Marlin – “Erie Fiddler” Carolina Chocolate Drops – “Cornbread and Butterbeans” The Rolling Stones – “Rocks Off” Count Basie and His Orchestra – “Honeysuckle Rose” Roy Harvey – “Blue Eyes” Blind Boy Fuller – “Step It Up and Go” Rhiannon Giddens, Francesco Turrisi – “Avalon” Carolina Chocolate Drops – “Snowden’s Jig (Genuine Negro Jig)” Barbara Lewis -“Hello Stranger” The O’Kaysions – “Girl Watcher” Joe and Odell Thompson – “Donna Got a Rambling Mind” Carolina Chocolate Drops – “Country Girl” Carolina Chocolate Drops – “Hit ‘Em Up Style” Our Native Daughters – “Moon Meets the Sun” Rhiannon Giddens, Francesco Turrisi – “Si Dolce é’l Tormento”
BGS is proud to produce Carolina Calling in partnership with Come Hear NC, a campaign from the North Carolina Department of Natural & Cultural Resources designed to celebrate North Carolinians’ contribution to the canon of American music.
Photo Credit: Ebru Yildiz
Enter to win a prize bundle featuring a signed copy of author and Carolina Calling host David Menconi’s ‘Step It Up and Go: The Story of North Carolina Music,’ BGS Merch, and surprises from our friends at Come Hear North Carolina.
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