Artist of the Month: Bettye LaVette

The very definition of persistence, Bettye LaVette is among the newest inductees into the Blues Music Hall of Fame, yet she pulls her material from nearly every imaginable corner of music. In addition to her distinguished R&B output that dates to the 1960s, she has interpreted the greats of folk and country music, ranging from Bob Dylan and Patty Griffin to George Jones and Dolly Parton. Now the five-time Grammy nominee is honoring many of the Black women who inspire her with Blackbirds, a collection that takes its name from the Beatles standard. However, as LaVette has stated before, Paul McCartney wrote the song about a Black woman (as British slang refers to a girl as a “bird”). In LaVette’s rendition, though, she is the one who’s been waiting… and waiting… and waiting for this moment to arrive. And, in a specific allusion to this moment in history, to be free.

Set for release on the venerated Verve label, Blackbirds alights on August 28, though the Detroit-raised diva has already issued a stunning rendition of Billie Holiday’s “Strange Fruit,” as well as Nina Simone’s “I Hold No Grudge” and Sharon Robinson’s “One More Song.” (Songs recorded by Ruth Brown, Lou Rawls, Dinah Washington, and jazz vocalist Nancy Wilson are featured on the album, too.) Read our two-part interview — part one here, part two here — with this candid and compelling entertainer, who’s now based in New Jersey and enjoy our BGS Essentials playlist of August’s Artist of the Month, Bettye LaVette.


 

On These 10 Recordings, Willie Nelson and Black Musicians Share a Creative Vision

Willie Nelson has long been not just an American musical treasure, but an iconic figure with far more appeal across racial and generational lines than often recognized. At 87, he’s achieved a perfect marriage of artistry and commercial success few have in any idiom. While certainly a country legend, and the only person in the genre to ever achieve a Top 10 hit in seven different decades, he’s also collaborated with an astonishing number of artists across a wide swath of musical styles and approaches. He’s penned numerous anthems that have been covered by jazz, blues, R&B, soul, rock and pop vocalists, and this month he released his 70th studio album, First Rose of Spring.

Nelson’s never been afraid to stand up for social justice, even when those words weren’t part of the popular vernacular. Early in Charley Pride’s career, Nelson actually gave him a kiss on stage in Louisiana, quieting an audience that was allowing some of its more verbally racist louts to heckle Pride on stage. He’s always included Black musicians in Farm Aid concerts, had one of his biggest albums ever (Stardust) produced by a Black man (Booker T. Jones, who raved about Nelson in his autobiography) and has maintained a friendship with Snoop Dogg since long before Lil Nas X appeared on the scene. He also enjoyed a very close relationship with Ray Charles, who Nelson lamented he could never beat at chess.

He’s in the same company with people like Duke Ellington, Louis Armstrong, and Bill Monroe, whose output, personality and consistent brilliance has endured despite changes in production, audience preferences, and many other variables that can negatively affect the careers of popular musicians. Part of the reason for that longevity is Nelson’s undeniable skill in multiple areas. He’s penned a host of songs that are every bit as epic as those from the pre-rock canon he often samples. Had he only written “Crazy,” “Funny How Time Slips Away,” or “On the Road Again,” that would have been enough for one lifetime. He’s also a very credible singer, highly effective in pacing and telling a story.

Nelson has consistently embraced and operated in other genres by neither sacrificing his musical individuality and integrity, nor seeming to pander or simply attempting to seem hip. Actually, he’s the epitome of that term, though in a vastly different way from someone like Miles Davis, who was known as much for fashion and fine cars as musical innovation. The fact that Nelson has appeared in more than 30 films just adds weight to his universal appeal.

Trying to pick the best of Nelson’s numerous collaborations with great Black singers and musicians is a tricky thing. One could easily select 10 one day, then come back and tab a different 10 another time. But these are some (far from all) personal favorites. They are ranked in order only by year, nothing more. We picked a mix of singles and LPs, but it’s just a small sample of the many wonderful things he’s done. By no means would we claim this is the definitive list for Willie Nelson’s collaborations with African American artists, but it’s a good sampler and an indicator of how widespread his impact and willingness to work with various musicians actually extends.

SINGLES AND ALBUM CUTS

“Man With The Blues” with Buckwheat Zydeco
From Five Card Stud (1994)

The greatest zydeco master since Clifton Chenier teams with Nelson for a smoky, delightful romp that sees Buckwheat Zydeco also find a comfort zone vocally and instrumentally. As is always the case, Nelson easily works himself into the arrangement, and the two sound right at home in this setting.


“Night Life” with B.B. King
From Deuces Wild (1997)

The King of the Blues sounds happy and engaged on one of Nelson’s earliest compositions, providing some taut guitar licks and outstanding lead and harmony vocals while Nelson doesn’t try to match the improvisational edge, instead easing into a nice zone that’s part complimentary, part quite different in style and sound, but ideal for the situation.


“Still Is Still Moving to Me” with Toots & the Maytals
From True Love (2004)

Toots brings some Jamaican soul and lots of energy to this collaboration, while Willie seems a bit more energetic as the song works its way through. This is one of many performances that earned this LP the Reggae Grammy, and Nelson had such a great time he made a follow-up of his own and paid Toots and company back by having them guest on it.


“Busted” with Ray Charles
From Genius & Friends (2004)

I know “Seven Spanish Angels” was a number 1 hit and more people remember it fondly, but this late redo of an early Charles hit has equal doses of warmth, reflection and edge in both voices. Charles was certainly not at his vocal peak, but he found a way to make his treatment effective, while Willie as always proves the ideal partner in multiple ways.


“Family Bible” with The Blind Boys of Alabama
From Take the High Road (2011)

The album title indicates precisely what Nelson does here, singing with verve and fire while the Blind Boys bring some of their characteristic Golden Age gospel energy and intensity to this rendition that’s alternately wistful, memorable and poignant. This composition dates back to Nelson’s late ’50s catalog, while he was trying to get heard as a songwriter.


“Grandma’s Hands” with Mavis Staples
From To All the Girls (2013)

Mavis Staples has one foot in the church and the other in the street with her customarily powerhouse voice setting the tone. Nelson manages not to get overridden or canceled out in the process as they do their own special version of the Bill Withers hit, which the Staples Singers cut for their 1973 Stax LP, Be What You Are.


“Last Night I Had the Strangest Dream” with Charles Lloyd and the Marvels
From I Long to See You (2015)

The great Memphis jazz man Charles Lloyd and his newest group provide the backing for what comes off as a cross between a nightmarish vision and a marvelous revelation, sung in emphatic fashion by Nelson and punctuated by Lloyd adding some nifty licks underneath and the Marvels adding some musical punch.


ALBUMS

Country Man (2005)

A follow-up to his appearance on Toots’ LP the year before, Nelson goes full bore into reggae territory. Some of it works, some of it doesn’t, but all of it is performed with enthusiasm and joy. Nelson vocally handles the skittering reggae rhythms well, and on the disc’s best songs surpasses what he did on True Love.


Two Men and the Blues (2008)

Wynton Marsalis as a youthful prodigy had a lot of negative things to say about a lot of things back in the ’70s and early ’80s, and country music wasn’t spared in his broadsides. But fast forward all these years later and his gorgeous trumpet solos (both full and muted) made a great musical partner and support system for Nelson, who by now was so familiar with pre-rock, blues, and even traditional jazz tunes and rhythms that it was super smooth sailing from first note to the end. Also recommended: the DVDs Live From Jazz at Lincoln Center with Wynton Marsalis (2008) and Willie Nelson & Wynton Marsalis Play the Music of Ray Charles (2009).


Here We Go Again: Celebrating the Genius of Ray Charles (2011)

Marsalis and Norah Jones joined Nelson to pay homage to his friend Ray Charles, doing wonderful renditions of both hits and more obscure Charles tunes before a rousing audience. Nelson sounded especially energetic throughout, while Marsalis, who’s often been accused of being more technically expert than emotionally powerful, delivered crushing solos and accompaniment, and Jones was equal parts alluring and engaging. As always, Nelson comes across as sincere and genuine, a marvelous mix of down-home sensibility and attitude.


Photos: Pamela Springsteen

WATCH: The War and Treaty, “Five More Minutes”

Artist: The War and Treaty
Hometown: Nashville, Tennessee
Song: “Five More Minutes”
Album: Hearts Town
Release Date: September 25, 2020
Label: Rounder Records

In Their Words: “[This] song’s saying, ‘If I have five more minutes to love you, it’s going to be the best damn five minutes of my life.’ … After years of falling in and out of financial and mental depression, I had finally had enough. I was ready to take my own life. But in my darkest moment, where I was ready right then and there to end it all, my wife Tanya asked one last thing of me: ‘Just give me five more minutes. Stay with me. Just five more minutes to love you.’ And something in her eyes, something in her hands convinced me to give her that five more minutes.” — Michael Trotter, The War and Treaty


Photo credit: David McClister

LISTEN: The Sons of the Soul Revivers, “It Isn’t Safe”

Artist: The Sons of the Soul Revivers
Hometown: Vallejo, California
Song: “It Isn’t Safe”
Album: Songs We’ll Always Sing: A Tribute to the Pilgrim Jubilees
Release Date: July 12, 2020
Label: Little Village Foundation

In Their Words: “Ever since I heard the album the Pilgrim Jubilees put out in 1973, the title is Don’t Let Him Down, I think I’ve gravitated especially to this song, ‘It Isn’t Safe.’ It was the last song on the ‘B’ side. And Cleve Graham, the leader of the Jubilees, shared with us the premise of that song. They were in Chicago, and Cleve said his brother Clay, who’s no longer with us, may he rest in peace, walked in and had a disgusted look on his face. Walking back from church, he’d seen two men attacking a lady. And Clay said, ‘You know what? It isn’t safe anywhere anymore.’ And he wrote the song.

“The message in it, from 1973 and here we are in 2020, and the message is still on point. The distrust of law enforcement, and law enforcement distrusts the public… we have yet to come to a common ground on how we can get along. I’m hoping and praying that this song will resonate with people in general. The lyric goes, ‘We should treat sin just like dirt, and with the broom of faith we should sweep it aside.’ I love that. It’s the only way we’re going to survive. ‘Do unto others as you would have them do to you, I declare that this is all you have to do. It isn’t safe….'” — James Morgan, The Sons of the Soul Revivers


Photo courtesy of the Sons of the Soul Revivers

BGS Long Reads of the Week // June 26

The BGS archives are simply a wealth of rootsy reading material. Each week we share our favorite longer, more in-depth articles, stories, and features to help you pass the time — summertime, COVID-19 time, or any ol’ free time you might have! We post our #longreadoftheday picks across our social media channels [on FacebookTwitter, and Instagram]. But of course, if you get ’em all right here in our weekly collection, that’s fine too!

This week’s long reads are about revitalization, reverence, rainbows, and real wisdom.

John Moreland Figures Out How to Love Music Again

We love a long read, yes, but we definitely love a birthday more! On Monday, we combined the two (as we do), celebrating Oklahoma singer/songwriter John Moreland’s day-of-birth with a revisit to our February interview about his latest album, LP5. While some listeners may have found the record to be something of a departure for Moreland, for his part, the “out there” elements of the music are what helped him learn to love creating again. [Read more]


Ricky Skaggs – Toy Heart: A Podcast About Bluegrass

Yes, this is a podcast, so technically this is a long listen rather than a long read, but we have good reason. Four years ago this week, Dr. Ralph Stanley passed away. As more and more of our bluegrass forebears leave us, their memories are even more important. On a recent episode of Toy Heart, hosted by Tom Power, Ricky Skaggs shared stories of his time with Ralph, the Clinch Mountain Boys, and Keith Whitley. It’s worth a listen to honor one of the most pivotal popularizers of this music. [Listen to the episode]


Way Above the Chimney Tops: A Pride Celebration of “Over the Rainbow”

Pride month is always full of rainbows, but never enough roots music! A couple of years ago we collected a handful of our favorite folky, country, bluegrassy, rootsy, ukulele-strumming renditions of “Over the Rainbow” to celebrate Pride month and each year since it’s been well worth a revisit. What cover of “Over the Rainbow” is your favorite? Did it make the list? [Read & listen here]


Counsel of Elders: Blind Boys of Alabama’s Jimmy Carter on Singing From Your Spirit

One quote from our 2017 interview with Blind Boys of Alabama founding member Jimmy Carter is enough to confirm this edition of Counsel of Elders’ excellence: “People ask me, ‘You’ve been doing this for almost seven decades, what keeps you going?’ I tell them, ‘When you love what you do — and we love what we’re doing — that keeps you motivated.'” 

You’re going to want to read the rest! [Read the full interview]


Photo of John Moreland: Crackerfarm
Photo of Blind Boys of Alabama: Jim Herrington

New Movement Music: A Black American Soundtrack of Struggle and Protest

For Black Americans, this day, Juneteenth, has long been a celebration of the momentous historical event of emancipation from slavery — and the nearly two and a half years it took for that news to reach all enslaved peoples in this country. Juneteenth is belatedly gaining wider recognition and arrives at a time of reckoning with systemic patterns of white supremacy, especially police brutality, that remain deeply entrenched.

Like many waves of national protest before it, the uprising in the wake of the deaths of George Floyd, Breonna Taylor, Ahmaud Arbery, Tony McDade and many others has spurred the creation of its own soundtrack, and the following list spotlights the contributions of seven roots-savvy, Black music makers. Some draw on lessons learned from how songs gave spiritual succor to those on the front lines of the 1960s Civil Rights struggle, with righteously raised fists and declarations of passion and purpose. Others opt for expression that feels far more personalized or particular, articulating an adamantly complex range of emotions and letting profoundly unsettled, and unsettling, questions hang in the air. All of them are fleshing out their own vivid, timely incarnations of movement music.

Leon Bridges specializes in sophisticated soul, sometimes artfully retro in presentation and other times landing at the thoroughly contemporary end of that musical lineage. His new song “Sweeter” is an example of the latter, two minutes and 50 seconds during which his buttery vocals glide over a lean drum machine pattern, delicate, gospel-dusted bits of guitar, keyboard, piano and bass and Terrace Martin’s saxophone figures. Bridges’ words land with the devastated finality of a black man whose life is leaving his body, taken from him by police. “I thought we moved on from the darker days,” he sings, his cadence fluttery and tone ruminative. “Did the words of the King disappear in the air, like a butterfly?” The blame-laying next line arrives in a burst: “Somebody should hand you a felony.”

Then, Bridges elongates his phrasing with righteous indignation, before steadying himself to spell out the loss: “‘Cause you stole from me/my chance to be.” The elegance he chose gives his performance subtly striking, emotional heft. “From adolescence we are taught how to conduct ourselves when we encounter police to avoid the consequences of being racially profiled,” Bridges wrote in a statement. “I have been numb for too long, calloused when it came to the issues of police brutality. The death of George Floyd was the straw that broke the camel’s back for me. It was the first time I wept for a man I never met. I am George Floyd, my brothers are George Floyd, and my sisters are George Floyd. I cannot and will not be silent any longer. Just as Abel’s blood was crying out to God, George Floyd is crying out to me.”


Chastity Brown has been honing her ability to create space for emotional resistance within her songs for a while now. She draws on the pointed, confessional potential of folk and soul and the digital texturing techniques of contemporary pop and hip-hop, while depicting the patient pursuit and safekeeping of self-knowledge as a sign of strength — one that differs wildly from the sort of dominance modeled by systemic power.

In her new song “Golden,” created on her iPad in her garage studio and shared with the world this week, Brown sounds willfully unhurried singing over a skittery programmed beat: “I’ve got joy, even when I’m a target/If ya think that’s political, don’t get me started/You know I’m golden and I flaunt it.” That savoring of selfhood is in striking contrast to the furious question she circles around during the chorus: “Why have I got to be angry?”

In the artist notes accompanying the song, Brown explained that she began writing it when her nephew was beaten by four white cops while walking home in Harlem, mere weeks before George Floyd died in her adopted hometown. “This collective trauma that black, indigenous, immigrant, and queer/trans folk feel is real,” she spelled out. “It’s every god damn day. Yet, we still thrive and flourish in our nature beauty, we still have swag and songs for days. We still have wild and wondrous imaginations like we are all the children of Octavia [Butler]. …This is for me, my people, and the UPRISING to defund police here in Minneapolis and thereby set a new standard for how communities want to be protected.”


Shemekia Copeland, one of the brightest stars in contemporary blues, has been deliberate for years about broadening her repertoire and approach to encompass countrified styles, singer-songwriter song sources and statement-making folk and soul sensibilities and, in the process, positioning herself in the midst of roots music discourse. That’s the insightful perspective she brings to her just-released “Uncivil War,” whose string band style accompaniment boasts the contributions of Sam Bush and Jerry Douglas.

Coming from Copeland, and delivered with measured, dignified vibrato, the simple flipping of the name of the nation’s most notorious war to “uncivil” slyly strips a veneer of respectability from the racist and romanticized Lost Cause religion. She strikes a tone of weary but resolute optimism throughout. “It’s not just a song,” she clarified in a statement. “I’m trying to put the ‘united’ back in the United States. Like many people, I miss the days when we treated each other better. For me, this country’s all about people with differences coming together to be part of something we all love. That’s what really makes America beautiful.”


Kam Franklin, on her own and with her Houston horn band The Suffers, has the wide-ranging musical instincts, imagination, nerve, and ear for earthy verisimilitude to make big statements while zeroing in on small interactions. A couple of weeks back, she posted a brand new, self-recorded song fragment to SoundCloud, a platform well suited to off-the-cuff expression, and with it, this comment: “I saw a photo of Breonna Taylor with her homegirls earlier today, and it gutted me. I won’t forget her. I wrote this birthday song for her, her friends that wondered where she was before the news came out, and everyone that loved her.”

Titled “Happy Birthday Breonna,” it’s a pensive, sinuous bit of ‘70s soul that drives home the fact that Taylor was ripped from a web of close relationships. The first, and only verse, lands like a voicemail from a friend who grew worried when she couldn’t reach Taylor. Franklin’s graceful trills and softly insistent phrasing have an understatement that suggests fretful preoccupation. Then she moves into a point-counterpoint refrain, murmuring birthday wishes to Taylor in her breathy upper register and making a devastating declaration beneath: “You should be here.”


Singer-guitarist and actor Celisse Henderson began work on writing, recording, and filming a video for her song “FREEDOM” four years ago, following the slayings of Philando Castile and Alton Sterling, and watched as black deaths and protest momentum multiplied before she finally completed and released her project earlier this month.

In a message on her website, Henderson explained, “I, along with millions of people, watched video footage of these unarmed black men losing their lives in the most horrific ways. The truth that these unjust deaths revealed about our country, including the systemic failings of our criminal justice system, became my personal call-to-action. Then the 2016 election night happened, and the results added a whole new layer to the purpose of this song and project. Now, almost four years later, too little has been done, and the story remains the same. With the horrific and unjust killings of Ahmaud Arbery, Breonna Taylor, and George Floyd weighing heavily on our hearts and minds, it is time to release ‘FREEDOM’ as a rallying cry and a call to action to stand up and fight for our freedom.”

Historic footage of the March on Washington that opens the clip is a reminder of the buoying role that spirituals played in the Civil Rights movement of the 1960s, and serves the narrative function of positioning Henderson to measure the too-meager progress for Black Americans since. The track is gospel-schooled and hard-rocking, powered by a thunderous, syncopated drum pattern and grinding electric guitar attack. With gospel fervor and a touch of theatrical flourish, Henderson summons a spirit of urgency and extends a broad welcome to all who are affected or disturbed by injustice.


Joy Oladokun, a Nigerian-American singer-songwriter who’s quietly carving out her place in Nashville’s professional songwriting community with introspective, melancholy warmth, steered a co-writing appointment with Natalie Hemby toward an expression of grief. The result was “Who Do I Turn To?” a naked airing of fear and distrust.

Oladokun’s reedy, plaintive performance is accompanied only by minimal piano chords. She spends the chorus adding up horrifying realizations that lead her to a resounding question: “If I can’t save myself/If it’s all black and white/If I can’t call for help/in the middle of the night/If I can’t turn to god/If I can’t turn to you/Who do I turn to?” Her voice subtly catches on the word “help,” as though knowing that life-giving protection is unavailable to her constricts her breath. Oladokun underscored the importance of the chorus lyrics to an interviewer: “[I]t’s illustrating that I don’t trust the police since I’m black. I don’t trust the police enough to know that they would think I’m not robbing my own home. I don’t think a lot of people understand what that is like. The feeling sucks.” In a separate statement she summarized her intent: “I wanted to write a firsthand account of how I feel and the question black people like me ask when this happens over and over again while nothing changes. I want it out now to help an already traumatized people cope, heal, and put words to their struggle.”


Wyatt Waddell, a young Chicago music-maker who’s been expertly, wittily, and self-sufficiently arranging home recordings of classic covers and singer-songwriter soul originals for the past few years, wrote “FIGHT!” as an anthem of admiration and uplift for young, Black Americans putting their bodies on the line in the streets and facing off against police force to agitate for change. “This song is me looking at what’s happening and what I’d tell the people protesting,” he specified in a statement. “I had to look outside of myself at what’s going on and how people are being affected. Hearing people’s fears, anxieties, and watching everything happening on TV really helped me write the song. I hope that it can be an anthem for my people as they’re fighting for a better America.”

Waddell begins with gospel-style repetition, creating a call-and-response pattern made up of his own layered vocals over a churchly foot stomp and hand clap groove: “There’s already so much pain/So much pain/So much pain/There’s already so much pain/And there ain’t nothin’ else we can do.” It seems like he could be building up to a confession of helplessness; instead, his funky refrain is bolstered by a sense of resolve and inevitability: “Nothin’ to do but fight.”


Photo credit: (L to R) Shemekia Copeland by Mike White; Chastity Brown by Wale Agboola; Leon Bridges by Jack McKain.

WATCH: Candi Staton, “I Wonna Holla”

Artist: Candi Staton
Single: “I Wonna Holla”
Album: It’s Time to Be Free (2016)
Release Date: June 19, 2020 (video)

In Their Words: “I’m so proud to be among the men, women and children of all races, marching together to end systemic racism, police brutality, [and] to reform the criminal justice system. When I saw George Floyd literally being lynched by a white police officer in the eyes of the whole world, my soul and my spirit wept. It brought back so many unpleasant memories from my own life.*

“Then I remembered ‘I Wonna Holla,’ a song I wrote years ago. Sometimes it’s hard to describe pain, tears and emotions. It makes you feel like you’re losing it, but this song says it all — ‘It Makes Me Wonna Holla!’ Now I really, really do want to holla! This song represents the language of the unheard. I will be donating to organizations like Black Lives Matter and others who are fighting to further the cause to stop police brutality, and those helping to rebuild small businesses that were looted while protesters were marching against this injustice.” — Candi Staton

*As a teenager in the 1950s, Staton worked the gospel circuit with Sam Cooke, where she and her musicians were victims of segregation and racial profiling. In 1963, she was in Birmingham, Alabama, and experienced the chaos and heartbreak on the day of the 16th Street church bombing.


Photo credit: Drea Nicole

LISTEN: Don Bryant, “99 Pounds”

Artist: Don Bryant
Hometown: Memphis, Tennessee
Song: “99 Pounds”
Album: You Make Me Feel
Release Date: June 19, 2020
Label: Fat Possum Records

Editor’s Note: This is the first time Don Bryant has recorded “99 Pounds,” the 1972 hit he wrote for Ann Peebles. They have been married since 1974 and still reside in Memphis. They also co-wrote (with Bernard “Bernie” Miller) her signature song, “I Can’t Stand the Rain.” Peebles retired from performing in 2012.

In Their Words: “This new version is a tribute to Ann, for accepting the song when I wrote it for her. I fell in love with Ann when she first came in to Hi [Records]. But there was so much going on with her — recording, travel, so many around her — it wasn’t my time. And I wasn’t in no hurry — I knew I wasn’t going nowhere! We got to know each other better and better and it opened up. It was a long, drawn-out situation, but for me it was love at first sight.” — Don Bryant


Photo courtesy of Fat Possum Records

The Show On The Road – Joey Dosik (Vulfpeck)

This week on the show, host Z. Lupetin meets up with Joey Dosik, a silky-voiced songwriter and freaky-talented multi-instrumentalist who writes lush, romantic jams that transport listeners to R&B-tinted, old school FM radio gold.

LISTEN: APPLE MUSICMP3

Some listeners may have learned of Dosik’s talents with DIY, future-funk ensemble Vulfpeck, led by trickster curator/composer Jack Stratton. Vulfpeck went from making goofy viral videos and recording an album of total silence — that scared the shit out of streaming giants like Spotify after it rocketed the band to international notoriety and financial success — to crowdfunding a series of hit funk records and vinyl releases that propelled them to sold out international tours, headlining nights at Red Rocks Amphitheatre in Colorado, and an unprecedented sold out show at Madison Square Garden (all with no record label in sight).

As we honor and celebrate two lost musical greats this week, Bill Withers and John Prine, it’s comforting to remember that we have constant new waves of amazing artists like Joey Dosik coming up who can honor and further their message. In many ways, Dosik’s songs combine the honest earnestness of Prine’s best early work, telling frank stories of family and relationships, with Withers’ deep, church-flavored, down-home groove.


 

On Tour, Nathaniel Rateliff Wants to Create an Experience (Part 2 of 2)

Nathaniel Rateliff’s And It’s Still Alright marks his first full-length solo release in seven years and grapples not just with the loss of a romantic relationship, but with the unexpected passing of his friend and collaborator Richard Swift, with whom he had planned to record it.

In this portion of our conversation, we discuss Rateliff’s songwriting on And It’s Still Alright — which ventures further into vulnerable, introspective territory than did his previous work with his band the Night Sweats — as well as his time in the studio and how he plans to bring these songs to life on his solo tour, which runs through the summer.

Read the first part of our BGS interview with Nathaniel Rateliff.

BGS: Given the way “And It’s Still Alright” came out, you mentioned earlier that “All or Nothing” began with a chord progression. Do you have a songwriting process you typically follow, or does the creation look different each time?

Rateliff: It’s really song-to-song. It always seems to change for me. “All or Nothing,” with that song in particular I really wasn’t trying to write a song. This progression had come up and I played it at a bunch of different tempos. It reminded me of the Eddy Arnold song, “Anytime.” It has this Western-swing progression to it, and I really liked it. Then I started playing these jazzier chords I had learned that I wouldn’t play with the Night Sweats and it turned into a song eventually.

I had a handful of different words to it. As I remember, at one point the chorus was like, “I got heavy shoulders but I’m not blue.” It didn’t really make sense. [Laughs] That turned into, “I got all this and nothing, too.” So it really does vary. That song was a chord progression that a vocal melody kind of came out of. And sometimes I’ll start with a vocal melody or a phrase and write music around all of that.

“And It’s Still Alright,” the original idea was me sitting in a hotel playing guitar by myself. Richard and I went and saw Tom Petty together. The way [Petty’s] song structure was, you start with a massive chorus and it goes into a verse that’s an even bigger chorus and it’s hook after hook after hook. One of my buddies was listening to “And It’s Still Alright” and he’s like, “Yeah, it’s kind of like it’s only bridges. There’s no chorus.” But there’s something interesting about it, since it doesn’t have a traditional hook.

You mentioned the time you all spent in the studio together. It sounds like you had a great group of players and collaborators who were able to join you. What do you look for in a collaborator, and what is it about a musical partnership with someone that feels right to you?

Even in the beginning, when the first Night Sweats records started, I had grown weary of being the traveling singer/songwriter troubadour kind of guy. I was really over playing acoustic guitar for a little bit. So I was making these demos in my attic, then I shared them with Richard and we decided to make a record. I brought Patrick Meese out with me, because I knew we could both play multiple instruments and that we’re pretty good at not getting our feelings hurt when advising each other about portions of the songs.

Sometimes you have something you think is a great idea and it just doesn’t work; being able to work with somebody who isn’t overly sensitive about that stuff is really helpful. You don’t want to have this unspoken tension or this idea that someone is musically picking on you when they don’t like your ideas… The biggest thing is being able to be in the studio with somebody where there is this element of seriousness in approaching it as work and respecting it as a craft, but there’s another side of it where you have to lighten up and have a good time.

Yeah, if you aren’t having fun, what’s the point of doing it at all?

Exactly. I hear stories of people who are like, “Oh, they got that on the 70th-something-odd take,” and it’s like, “Fuck that!” If we’re not getting it in the first two or three, we’re probably screwing something up.

With the Night Sweats, of course, you were releasing music via Stax, but this is your first solo release you’ve been able to do with the label. Given the label’s history, what does it mean to you to be able to work with them, and what has spending the last several years of your career with them opened up for you creatively?

With the Night Sweats stuff it was like, well, the sound I’m really trying to come up with is influenced by Sam & Dave. My original idea for the Night Sweats was, I wanted to have the feel of when the band would play R&B songs like “Don’t Do It.” Their sort of gritty, funky, but slightly Southern feel and approach to the songs — swamp rock, I guess. But then also have these harmonies, like the Sam & Dave harmonies, with these big, powerful voices. Then I wanted everyone in the band to be working for the song. I wanted it to be a sweaty revival.

Originally I was signed to Rounder and got dropped when Concord kind of took over. Then I eventually got signed by the parent company, Concord, and when I found out they worked with Stax, I was like, “Is there any way we can put this out with Stax?” We shared the record with them and that started our journey together. To me, Stax is such an important part of the community in Memphis and part of the thing I love about music is how it’s a community-builder. We really need that nowadays. We need to be more in touch with the people around us and be more understanding and more caring overall. Also, just that roster; it’s all the greats. It hits me when I look at it. It’s pretty amazing.

It sounds like the tour will really showcase several different sides of you as a musician and as a performer. What are you most looking forward to about getting on the road and getting to play these new songs live?

We’re really trying to create an experience. The other thing, too, since it’s mostly the Night Sweats guys in this band, it’s fun to be able to show people, in pulling these songs off live, that we’re really creating and playing whatever type of music that appeals to us at any given time. Hopefully that will make us look like we’re not just a one-trick pony.