Tag: Red Rocks Amphitheatre

“Not Easy Shoes to Fill” – Russell Moore Gets the Gig of a Lifetime: Alison Krauss & Union Station

Posted on by Justin Hiltner

Russell Moore has been a professional musician and bandleader for 40 years and, though he wouldn’t describe himself as complacent, he does readily admit he generally knows what he can expect from that job.

“It’s almost like, ‘Okay, I know what this week is going to bring and what next week is going to bring,’” he shares over the phone. “It’s the same thing, even though you try to explore different opportunities … I never would have thought that at this point in my career that this opportunity would arise.”

Back in early December 2024, Alison Krauss & Union Station announced their first headline tour in nearly ten years and, with that announcement, that Moore himself would be joining the band. The bluegrass community responded with an outpouring of love for Moore, his talent, and his iconic, long-running bluegrass band IIIrd Tyme Out while marveling at how perfectly he and his voice would fit into one of the most prominent, best-loved, and best-selling string bands in music history.

Once fears of IIIrd Tyme Out being benched were totally allayed – the band has lasted 34 years so far and has no plans to curtail their efforts with Moore’s new gig – the ‘grass community set their sights on the next announcement from AKUS, which came in January: Arcadia, their first album since 2011’s Paper Airplane, will release March 28.

Arcadia will be the starting pistol for a breakneck six-month tour that will find Alison Krauss & Union Station (and their newest member, Moore) criss-crossing the continent to perform at some of the most notable venues and festivals in the scene. Many of which Moore will find himself checking off his bucket list for the very first time.

To mark the occasion, and as we anxiously count down the weeks to Arcadia and the Arcadia Tour, we sat down with Russell Moore to chat about his career, his plans for IIIrd Tyme Out, and how energized and excited he is by this once-in-a-lifetime chance. As he puts it, he has very big shoes to fill – but perhaps he is the only one concerned about having the chops to fill them.

You’ve been leading your own band for so long and you’ve been the person to “make the call” – hiring a sideman, or hiring someone to fill in, or finding a new band member. So how does it feel at this stage in your career to get this kind of call to join a band like Allison Krauss & Union Station? How does it feel to be on the receiving end for a change?

Russell Moore: What a blessing. It’s definitely the other side of the fence! For 34 years I’ve been running IIIrd Tyme Out and making the decisions or helping make the decisions. That’s a job in itself. You wear many different hats when you’re doing that.

The last time that I was in a situation like I’m going into with AKUS was back when I was with Doyle Lawson & Quicksilver. That was basically, “I’m the guy that plays guitar and I sing” and everything else was pretty much taken care of. Since then, up ‘til now with IIIrd Tyme Out, I’ve been heavily involved with all the decisions and making things happen, which like I said, it requires several different hats to wear day-in and day-out.

This is going back to that time, before IIIrd Tyme Out. And I’m excited about it. It really gives me the opportunity to focus totally on the music and my part in the band, rather than anything else that goes along with running a band. That’s exciting in itself. I will say, it’s going to take some getting used to, because I know that I’m going to be saying, “Oh, what can I do today to help this thing out?” That’s going to be a change of pace for me!

But I’m looking forward to it. Honestly, I’m looking forward to not having to worry about anything else other than my position in AKUS and just doing my job to the best of my ability and that’s it. That’s gonna be pretty cool. I guess you would say a little weight off of my shoulders.

You can set down the CEO hat and pick up the “being an instrumentalist and a vocalist and a technician” hat. Of course it’s got to feel exciting in some ways to get to step back into that role of being an equal part collaborator in a band instead of having to wear so many hats and having to be a lightning rod for everything.

RM: It is. It definitely is. I did experience just a little bit of this a few years ago. Jerry Douglas called and asked if I could go out for a few days with the Earls of Leicester, which I did and it was the same thing. I played mandolin and I sang my harmony parts with Shawn [Camp]. And I didn’t have to do anything else. That was all I had to do. For a few days there, I got to relieve myself of all the responsibilities of running a touring band on the road, and it was cool. I enjoyed it. I really did.

I’m not going to lie, I’m not saying that I don’t enjoy running a band, I’m not saying that whatsoever! But it was nice to step back for a few days and just be that. So I see this, for the six months between April and September, being sort of in the same picture. I wanna focus everything I can, all the time I’ve got, on playing the music, being in the position that I’m in, and doing the best I can. Just focusing on that. That’s going to be cool. I’m not going to have to worry about, “Did the bus get there on time? Is there something wrong with the bus?”

I know I’m not the only one who was super excited to hear this news and also thought immediately, “I never would have connected these dots myself, but who else has a better voice for that gig?” You think of Dan Tyminski, of Adam Steffey, the guys who have been singing vocals in this band, they have that sort of warm, honeyed, Mac Wiseman-like bluegrass voice – less of the high lonesome and piercing, even though you have the range and you can get up there, too.

So many people’s reaction to the announcement was that you have a voice that’s perfect for this gig and for what we all come to expect as the AKUS sound. Did you have that realization too? Did you think, “Oh yeah, this is perfect for my voice”? Or did you feel like, “I’m going to have to work at this.”

What was your general reaction, musically, to coming into this? Not just as a guitarist, but also as a vocalist – and then, I assume you’ll be playing some mandolin too, like you said you were doing with Earls of Leicester. So how are you approaching it musically?

RM: I will be playing a little bit of mandolin, not a whole lot, but my main gig I guess you’d say would be playing guitar and vocals – harmony vocals and some lead vocals as well. I’ll be honest with you, Justin, I was concerned about some of the harmony singing. That’s the biggest thing.

It’s really intricate.

RM: It is very intricate! It’s not in the same breath that I usually sing at. I tend to sing very full throated. For lack of a better term, it’s a male voice trying to sing very high. I do it in a robust way. I do have subtleties that I use as well, but this application of trying to blend with Alison’s voice is a different place to be, for me, for sure.

I do sing harmony and I have for years, here and there, but still my vocal technique has always been full throated and far more harsh, a male vocalist trying to sing very high. This is a different application. I tried to do that on all the songs that I’m going to be singing harmony on with Alison, it would be too abrasive. I’m learning how to make it work with my voice and her voice. That is a really nice combination, [you don’t want] me standing out because of my approach to the harmony.

Of course, I do have songs that I’ll be singing lead on. Those, I’m just back to my old self doing my thing. But when it comes to the harmony stuff, most of the time I’m having to really listen and focus on how to project my voice to make her sound as best as she can and not interfere.

Are you going to be singing lead on some of your own music with AKUS?

RM: No. There might be one song, and I’m not going to give away any of the stuff that she has planned for the set list, but there might be one song that people recognize from IIIrd Tyme Out during the performance. For the most part, this is Union Station. We’re not trying to bring in Russell Moore and IIIrd Tyme Out into the project whatsoever. We’re still around, we’re going to be performing when I’m not on the road with AKUS. There might be a small ode to IIIrd Tyme Out during the show, but it will be very small.

I’m not here to promote IIIrd Tyme Out with Alison Krauss. I’m here to promote Alison Krauss & Union Station and to be a part of that group and promote what this record release is and the stage show. I am a team player and I told them all, “You’ll never find anybody that’s more of a team player than I am, because I understand what that means.”

You’ve seen it on both sides. I’m glad you mentioned IIIrd Tyme Out continuing, because I think a lot of people’s natural reaction to the news was, “What about IIIrd Tyme Out!?” Of course IIIrd Tyme Out’s been going for so long, they’re gonna keep going.

RM: IIIrd Tyme Out is here to stay. When the conversations started about my being a part of Union Station going forward, I had a lot of questions. Can I do this? Should I do this? And that was one of them: “Will my band support me in this decision, or if I say yes, will they support me?”

[I consulted] my family, my wife, and everybody around me – it wasn’t a decision that was made quickly. I had to talk to people. Once I talked to my band members and I got their total support and thumbs-up affirmation – along with my wife, family, and friends – it was just like, “Okay, I have no reason not to do this. Everybody says I should and it’s a great opportunity.” At that point, I said yes.

Hopefully I can fulfill the position, because it’s not easy shoes to fill. I can tell you that right now I’m a huge Dan Tyminski fan. I have been since he came onto the scene way back – we’re talking Lonesome River Band days. He is so unique and his position with Union Station, until recently with his own band, that was the epitome of his career in my opinion.

Then, of course, he gets the head nod for Oh Brother, Where Art Thou? And the Stanley Brothers song, “Man of Constant Sorrow,” it’s still incorporated into his shows. I love the Stanley Brothers’ [version of the] song. I really do. But when I think about that song, I think about Dan Tyminski.

I guess the point is I’m a huge fan of Dan and his work. He is such an intricate part of what Union Station has been up to now. I think that those are big shoes to fill. I just hope I can facilitate that to everybody’s liking. I know there’s going to be some people that say, “No, it’s not Dan, it’s just not the same.” But I do want to say there are [many] eras of Union Station that were awesome, as well. You go back to when other people were in the group. Adam Steffey–

I’m partial to the Alison Brown era, too.

RM: Alison Brown! Oh, gosh, yes. Tim Stafford along that same time. I can’t say there’s been a bad ensemble for AKUS. It’s just evolved. And the fact that Dan was there for so long, that kind of solidifies that is the sound that most people – especially younger people who didn’t really start listening to AKUS until let’s say 20 years ago – are hearing. What they’re hearing is Dan Tyminski on guitar, singing harmony, and singing lead. That’s what they’re used to. That’s what they realize is AKUS music, and here’s this Texas guy coming in here trying to fill those shoes. I just hope I can satisfy everybody. I’ll do the best I can.

Alison Krauss & Union Station shot by Randee St. Nicholas with Russell Moore second from right.

It’s gotta feel exciting, especially after having done something like this your whole entire life, to have that sort of childlike wonder at it feeling so brand new and so fresh. Even after you have done literally exactly this for so long, there are still things that you’re excited to accomplish and new territory you’re excited to explore. That sounds really energizing and really positive.

RM: It is energizing. I’ll be honest, Justin, I’ve been playing music full time for a good 40 years. That’s awesome. And at this point, after 34 years of IIIrd Tyme Out – I’m not going to say I’ve become complacent, but it’s almost like, “Okay, I know what this week is going to bring and what next week is going to bring.” It’s the same thing, even though you try to explore different opportunities and things that come within that.

But this, I never would have thought that at this point in my career that this opportunity would arise and I’d get to do something like this. Because, like I said, I’m not so much complacent, but I know what’s ahead. When the phone call was made and we talked, I had no idea that I had another option, another fork in the road. This is absolutely surreal, in a lot of ways, for me to get this opportunity and without giving up IIIrd Tyme Out. All the support from everybody that I know, like I said, there was no reason to say no.

Another part of this that I’m really excited about [is being] able to experience some of these places, these venues, these shows that I’ve never been to before. Just being able to experience it – like playing Red Rocks Amphitheatre – and just so many places that I’ve always wanted to go to and perform at. I’m going to get to do that!

Checking them off the bucket list.

RM: There you go. It wouldn’t be possible, I don’t believe, with IIIrd Tyme Out. I was always exploring new opportunities and things like that, but I don’t think it would have been possible to perform at some of these places without being a part of AKUS.

To me, “Looks Like the End of the Road,” the first single from the upcoming album, feels like classic AKUS. The So Long, So Wrong era is what it reminded me of first. You still have those tinges of adult contemporary, you have the pads and the synth-y sound bed underneath it, and it almost feels transatlantic a bit here and there. Overall, it sounds like classic, iconic Allison Krauss & Union Station. What are your thoughts or feelings on the single or what can you tell us about that first track?

RM: I think that the song is a great representation of what is coming out with the full album release, Arcadia. It is a great nod to Alison Krauss & Union Station music over the last several years and the last several recordings.

I think that the song itself is just well written and perfect for Alison to sing. There’s a small part of harmony vocals – and what I love about the way she constructs her arrangements is that it’s not overdone with harmonies. This is Alison Krauss & Union Station, it’s not just Union Station. So the focus is on Alison and her vocals. In my opinion, that’s the way it should be. This song doesn’t come out from the get go with a five-string banjo just blasting off. It’s a great construction of the arrangement and the vocals.I think it was perfect.

The only thing that people have said is that the title itself made them think that this was the end of Allison Krauss & Union Station! Which is so far detached from the truth. It was just the first single that was released. It’s a beautifully constructed song.
I will say, this song is just a piece of the puzzle to the rest of the recording. It just paints a beautiful picture and a wonderful listening experience. When people get to hear the full album, they’ll understand what I’m talking about. It’s just awesome. It’s just, it’s a piece of the puzzle.

You’re going to be blown away. Absolutely blown away, as I was. I had my headphones on. I can’t tell you how many nights before I’d go to sleep, I’d have my headphones on [listening]. I listened to it two, three times a night, just because it was so enjoyable. It was just that good. I know that everybody else is gonna feel the same way when they hear the whole project.

Photo Credit: Matt Morrison

Oliver Wood Gets “Weird” On Second Solo Album, ‘Fat Cat Silhouette’

Posted on by Justin Hiltner

As the frontman/guitarist of The Wood Brothers, Oliver Wood is well versed in the art of roots experimentalism, but even that genre-blurring trio can’t satisfy all of his curiosity. With his second solo album, Fat Cat Silhouette (out now), the singer-songwriter set out to reach a new creative plane of existence.

Featuring nine playful, untethered tracks exploring pure sonic adventurism, the set became a case study in songwriting for songwriting’s sake; it’s a joyful mix of folk, jazz and free form pop. Recorded analog to tape by Wood Brothers percussion polymath Jano Rix, it features guest appearances by Katie Pruitt and Los Lobos saxophonist Steve Berlin, and some of the most irreverent, open-minded musical journeys ever taken. Each day, Wood would wake up, grab a coffee and sit down in a comfy chair, looking out the window to write whatever crossed his mind. The result was musical mood-shift, just a refreshing as it is insightful.

Ahead of another Wood Brothers tour, BGS talked with the artist about clearing his creative mind and getting “weird.”

It seems like you were purposely expanding your horizons on this second solo record, right? Why did you want to open up the floodgates?

Oliver Wood: I don’t know, it just felt like time to do that and time to experiment. … The Wood Brothers, we put out an album last spring and when we were done, I guess I was just still writing tunes. But also, I’ve always just liked in the last few years to make it a point to collaborate with some people outside of the band. And then production-wise, I felt like we’ve just done this album with The Wood Brothers a certain way, and a lot of times we react as artists and as writers. You sort of react to what you did before, and you try to be different, even though there’s not necessarily an exact sound in mind. It’s like, “What can we do that’s weirder?”

I love that idea of being a little weird, because why not, right? But the funny thing is that as a band, The Wood Brothers does not exactly seem limiting in terms of creativity.

No not at all.

So was there just still more in you, that had to get out creatively, or what?

I think so, yeah. And I’m sure there’s a subconscious part of me that wants to figure out what is my musical identity. I know what it is within The Wood Brothers. That’s sort of our bread and butter, but when I do my own thing, I feel like I can do whatever I want. … Maybe nobody will even hear it, so why don’t I just do get as weird as I want to get?

In the album bio, you talk about practicing songwriting without self-judgment and I think that’s a cool idea. Can you explain what that is to you and how you go about getting there?

Yeah. I think that is, first of all, almost impossible. However, maybe putting myself in a frame of mind that I was under less pressure to make something that people would like helps get there. It’s all subconscious, but when we’re with The Wood Brothers, even though we’re not trying to please anybody but ourselves, we do have to make our living, so in the back of our heads it’s like, “Oh, this song will sound good at Red Rocks or the Ryman Auditorium.” In other words, “People are going to love this.” I can’t help but think that in the back of my mind probably. But as far as writing without judgment and what that looks like? I think it looks like trust. I think it looks trusting that oftentimes your first instincts are right.

You don’t have to fix something or change something. You can trust that your soul and realness is going to come out if you just let it, and you write something down or play something, rather than going over it and editing it. I feel like I did that a lot with lyrics on this record. I wrote some things and I was like, “That doesn’t make any sense.” I caught myself thinking that, and then I was like, “Screw it. I trust that that’s what my subconscious told me to write. And it’s real.” I don’t think you really have to try to do that. In fact, the more you try, the less authentic it might be.

What came out is these nine tracks that to me are really playful and enthusiastic. What do you like about where the sound went? You definitely took some leaps.

Well, I talked with [album producer and fellow Wood Brothers member] Jano a lot about maybe being a little bit less on the drum set side, a little more on the percussion side. He is my favorite drummer ever, but sometimes I get tired of drum sets. I mean I love classic rock ‘n’ roll and R&B drums, all that stuff. But sometimes when you think about it, it sounds like everything else. So it was like “What if we didn’t have that?” There was one point where it’s like, “Jano, why don’t you do that percussion part vocally?” With the song “Whom I Adore,” not only did he play the Sitar and the tambourine, but he also did this weird shaker part with his mouth. Sometimes when you avoid one thing, you have to innovate to replace it with something else. And that was kind of the idea.

I use this really dull, rubber-bridge guitar on a lot of the songs, so there’s some more atypical guitar sounds. And of course, Steve Berlin and the bari-sax was a really cool thing. There was one section where we were wishing we had a horn section and instead Jano and I just sang all the parts. That was for “Star In the Corner,” and we just sang them like idiots – like fake opera singers! It’s kind of silly, but it was like, “That’s cool. And we haven’t done that before.”

That to me was the way to go to be non-judgmental, to be like you called it, playful. Sometimes you feel like you can control something and make it just perfect. But the opposite of that is letting go and trusting that if you try something, it may or may not turn you on, but when it works, it’ll surprise you and delight you. And that’s so much more fun than trying to control something and never quite being happy.

Tell me about the track “Little Worries.” This contains the album title, Fat Cat Silhouette, which is so fun. How does that song speak to the project overall?

Some of the themes, I feel like bloomed from that song. I have a ritual where I’ll go downstairs in the morning and have a cup of coffee in this armchair, which is right by a window facing my front yard. And I usually go down there and I write and sometimes I just write in a notebook, just sort of freeform. Sometimes it’s working on a song, but it’s wide open and several of these songs kind of started that way.

The idea of the Fat Cat Silhouette was really just an actual thing. I’m sitting there in that chair with my cup of coffee and I have these semi-transparent sheer curtains, and there’s a cat sitting there looking out the window. Sometimes for me – and I’m pretty sure for a lot of other songwriters – you don’t know what you’re going to write about, but you may see something that gets you started. And so the beginning of that song is literally me describing sitting in the chair with my cup of coffee and there’s a fat cat silhouette in the window.

That sort of observation, oftentimes if you write it down, can lead to a story. The first song on the album, “Light and Sweet,” happened the same way, sitting in the same spot looking out the window and there’s a sparrow. I started the song and then I started fantasizing. He’s on the phone with his lawyer talking about his divorce with his soon to be ex-wife.

[Laughs] You don’t hear many songs about bird law.

Exactly! But with the “Little Worries” song, I think writing that song and writing in general every morning is a good way for me to deal with anxieties and overthinking things. And that kind of turned out to be what that song was about.

How about “Yo I Surrender.” This is another track about giving up control, but also I think the most fun on the record. I love how you said it has the worst guitar sound ever. Why does that work for you?

That’s one that Jano and me and [bassist] Ted [Pecchio] were warming up one day, and we just started playing that groove. We just had fun playing that groove and I saved it on my phone, and then Steve Berlin from Los Lobos was in town with his bari-sax, and we invited him to come into the studio, help us finish writing that song. So the four of us sort of arranged the music and parallel to that, I was starting to think about the lyrics. I was also reading some cool books that were giving me some cool vocabulary words that I was like, “I just want to use that word. I don’t even care if it fits. I don’t even care if it makes sense.” It was definitely one of those things where it was musically such a group effort, and then lyrically one of those things – let it be weird, let it be ambiguous. I think some of my favorite songs that I’ve heard over the years are always a little bit ambiguous.

Photo Credit: Alysse Gafkjen

Watch Wyatt Flores and Sierra Hull Duet on a Tyler Childers Cover

Posted on by Justin Hiltner

Last week, before the Turnpike Troubadours headlined the iconic Red Rocks Amphitheatre in Morrison, Colorado, two phenomenal young pickers also on the show bill stepped out into “the house” to perform Tyler Childers’ “Shake The Frost.”

Guitarist Wyatt Flores, a current nominee for the Americana Music Association’s Emerging Act of the Year, and Sierra Hull, Grammy-nominated mandolinist and songwriter, performed an intimate and tender rendition of the Childers hit flanked by the infamous red rock cliffs and backgrounded by the historic amphitheatre’s nearly 10,000 seats.

Flores and Hull demonstrate the timelessness with which Childers writes his songs and lyrics; in this simple, acoustic setting the track listens like an age-old folk song that’s been passed down generationally. With gentle unison vocals on the choruses and subtly interspersed licks and fills, the pair of virtuosos know that less can indeed be more. While they are each objectively shredders on their instruments, another common thread between them is their commitment to giving songs the treatment they deserve – rather than using each and every track they perform as a chance to show off their picking chops.

Hull has long been a technical – and artful – standard-bearer for her generation of bluegrass pickers, while Flores is enjoying something of a meteoric rise after having spent most of his young life touring and performing. Together, they represent the vibrant, genre-blending present and future of country, Americana, and bluegrass.

 

Bluegrass, Folk, and Country Communities Made Jobi Riccio

Posted on by Justin Hiltner

(Editor’s Note: This interview first appeared in full on Basic Folk. Listen on BGS or wherever you get podcasts. The following has been lightly edited for flow and clarity.)

Jobi Riccio has only begun to scratch the surface of what they have to offer on their debut album, Whiplash. The songwriting is centered around self discovery and mourning past lives, laid alongside super-smart country and pop melodies. Our hero grew up an outdoor kid amongst the woods of Red Rocks Parks Amphitheatre in Colorado.

A strong bluegrass community encircled her playing from a very young age in a way that encouraged her to pursue music as a career. She spent time in Boston attending Berklee College of Music, nestled in the folk community centered around the historic venue Club Passim. March 2020 hit. Jobi had to leave her newfound community and found herself back in her childhood bedroom.

While wrestling with all the complications of finding herself and her place in the world, they were letting go of their childhood and the sense of grounding that came with it. Eventually, they made their way to Asheville, North Carolina to work on Whiplash.

In the studio, she took her time making the album and discovered that indeed, she had a strong sense of vision for the music. The trust of her collaborators allowed her to trust in herself and create an album that is turning heads and making Jobi Riccio one of the most exciting young songwriters of 2023.

BGS: Thank you so much for being on Basic Folk.

Jobi Riccio: Thank you for having me.

Alright, let’s start. I wanted to talk about identity and give you the opportunity to talk about your identity, like how do you identify pronouns, orientation, any of that stuff that we want to address.

JR: Yeah, I use she/they pronouns. I identify as queer and identity has been something that feels like it’s been important and very complicated for me. It feels like something that I have spoken about and made a part of my career, and now I’m kind of feeling, a little bit, like it’s become too much of a focus in my career, actually.

It’s funny, because I was listening to your other podcast that [you do], I can’t remember–

It’s [Basic Folk Debate Club], an occasional crossover series with Why We Write.

Yes! I was like, you’ll know the person to plug – and I’m so sorry to Why We Write.

It’s based on actually something that Lizzie No was saying. I just really resonated with something that she said, which was it’s about who is asking those questions of me. It can feel like a fine line. It’s kind of “cool” right now to be a queer artist or a Black artist or an artist of color in the folk space.

When you’re with your community, that feels one way, or with people who are truly great. And then when you’re with people who it just seems like they need to check that box. It’s so obvious and it’s so painful and it feels like a betrayal of yourself. And [Lizzie] put it a lot more eloquently than all that, but if we’re really going down the discussion of identity, it’s important to me that I am open with my identity, but I also feel like there have been times where it’s been so hyper-focused on. In a way that it’s like, “Did you even listen to any of my songs or did you know what I mean?”

I really enjoyed that answer. Doing these interviews, sometimes I feel like I’m gonna ask and I think that the interview is gonna go one way or a question is gonna go one way and it goes the complete opposite way. I just get to enjoy the ride.

You are from Morrison, Colorado, which is outside of Denver – the same place as Red Rocks Parks and Amphitheatre. You were an outdoor kid. How do you think your early experience in nature has impacted the person you became?

I think that it’s something that I really value and need and it’s a processing tool for me, being out in nature. It’s almost equivalent to songwriting and writing in my journal. It’s honestly super hard here in Nashville, because I don’t feel like I can get that, in the way that I used to be able to walk to a hiking trail five minutes from my house. I was absolutely supremely spoiled with outdoor access as a kid. [I didn’t] know any better. Like, there’s going to come a time where you’re going to live somewhere the nearest mountains are two and a half hours away. That is rough. It’s something I have to really intentionally build into my life now.

I think that nature heavily informs me as a person. Musically, I feel like it shows up in my lyrics [and] images from home, talking about coyotes and cactus and etc. I feel like it’s so intrinsic to who I am as a person.

So nature ruined you.

For real. The nature ruined me. Colorado ruined me.

There has always been this strong draw to music for you – country radio, your parents and sister’s collection of music, and also making music on your own. Can you set the scene for what music looked like in your house? And when did you get a grasp on your own taste in music?

My parents definitely – we had like a home stereo and a big collection of CDs and I spent a lot of time just sort of putzing around my house as a little kid, opening cabinets, and looking at things and opening the encyclopedia and reading. I don’t know if anyone else feels like a really intrinsic part of childhood was just looking at things.

The CD collection in like, a big wicker basket was definitely a huge one for me. They felt like little gifts. I could open up the CD and then there was this extra thing I could pull out and there were liner notes and lyrics and I could read along. That was really big for me, because I was always really interested in lyrics.

My dad’s a huge Bruce Springsteen fan. We love the Boss and sometimes we can’t understand the Boss. And like, his lyrics are wonderful, too. I really feel like that was pretty formative to me, looking through my parents’ CDs and my sister’s CDs as well. My oldest sister had like a clear, hot pink, very early 2000s lockbox thing that she kept her CDs in. I very vividly remember going into her room and stealing CDs – The Killers, Coldplay, A Rush of Blood to the Head was a big one for me, Sheryl Crow, Tuesday Night Music Club, Yellow Ocean Avenue. Then like Emmylou Harris, Bruce Springsteen, Linda Ronstadt, the Eagles, James Taylor.

There is a strong bluegrass community where you’re from. You found it at an early age, playing mandolin when you were like eight or nine years old. Since then you’ve sought out musical community, so what did you learn from that first musical community? 

The bluegrass community was a big part of feeling supported for me in music. I was always a kid who sang and was like, the girl with a good voice in like my elementary school class or whatever, but I didn’t see myself as a musician until I really started playing mandolin. I had a teacher and he was super supportive and was like, “You’re really great at instruments, too.”

I feel like the bluegrass community in my hometown took me seriously even though I was a little kid running around at RockyGrass – and by “a little kid” I mean 16. I didn’t go to my first bluegrass festival until I was a teenager. I would go and sit and jam with adults and be taken seriously. I really looked up to [those who were] offering their support to me, that was immeasurable to [growing] my own self confidence at that age.

I mean, I was so insecure at like 15, 16. The first year I ever went to RockyGrass, which sort of became my home festival, I didn’t even go out and play with anyone. I just sat in my camper with my mom, because I was so scared and so nervous and having trouble with confidence. The next year, I was out like playing every night ’til like 2 or 3 a.m.

That’s a huge shift!

Yeah. I feel like community and music– I mean, no musician is an island. We’re nothing without the musicians who came before us and those who’ve supported us. Sometimes I look back on that time and wonder if I hadn’t gotten that nod in that jam from that older kid who was really good, who I thought was awesome; or from that artist who I worshipped, who told me I had a beautiful voice; or I had shared one of my songs with them, and they were encouraging of me writing. I wonder if I would have taken it this far?

Then I got to be in a really beautiful community space working at Club Passim in college, too. That also further helped bolster my confidence, especially playing solo. Because – as you know, as also somebody who worked there in a much different capacity – it’s very much like a solo listening room, singer-songwriter space.

I play solo [a lot] now on tour, because I can’t afford to bring out a band. I feel like I really garnered some valuable skills watching other people like Mark Erelli and Lori McKenna play solo at Passim and also having to do that myself, learning how to speak about the songs I had written and not be painfully awkward, but doing that in the loving embrace of that room.

You’ve talked about Sheryl Crow and The Chicks as having a huge impact on you. You picked up the mandolin after you first heard Nickel Creek – can you talk more about the influence Chris Thile and Sara and Sean Watkins had on you?

So, I first heard Nickel Creek on the radio on KBCO, which is like the AAA station.

Hell yeah, that’s a huge station. That’s where AAA was born!

Where AAA was born, famously, yes! That was my local radio station that I listened to as a kid. And they would play “Smoothie Song” by Nickel Creek. This was around the same time that I heard the Home album by The Chicks. I was listening to Top 40 country music and also hearing mandolin here and there. It’s so strange, because I don’t play the mandolin anymore. It’s just something I’m not interested in now – it makes me almost kind of sad to think of how this was such a big part of my life.

Then I really pivoted – and it’s like, I’ll never say never, but yeah, I started playing mandolin when I was 15, I wanted to play mandolin when I was about eight or nine years old, because that was when we got Why Should the Fire Die on CD as a family. When I started opening up the CD and reading the booklet and listening – that album is so cool, because there’s a little bit of almost a pop-punk thing to some of the songs, like “Somebody More Like You.” That was so of-the-time and I loved it. I couldn’t get enough of that.

Being introduced to this new palette of instruments that I really hadn’t heard played in this way. I was familiar with bluegrass to some extent, but it like bluegrass for me and my like angsty little 12-year-old self. And, you know, everybody’s angsty selves at any age. That struck such a chord in me…

The first song I heard by them was that Pavement cover.

And Pavement’s super emo! “Spit On a Stranger,” right?

Yeah, that’s it.

I loved that album, too. They were all older than me, but I didn’t really know that either because, like, they’re pretty young on the CD case. They’re probably [around] my older sister’s age, who is now 28. They’re not that close in age to me, but I did feel a kindred-ness that I feel like a lot of roots artists talk about, hearing them and the Chicks and being like, “Oh, this is cool! This is of the moment.” They’re incorporating sounds that we like from other genres, which is really what I think I’m trying to get with the whole pop-punk thing, though I know that can be kind of a “dirty” word, like pop country. I don’t think it should be, I don’t think any genre word should be.

And I definitely had like a three month period where I was like, “I’m in love with Chris Thile. I’m going to marry him.” That was a little, you know, short lived, but it was strong. His high, angelic voice really spoke to my prepubescent soul.

That’s so sweet.

You’re like, “I don’t know what to say about that!”

Thank you for sharing. No, it turns out it was Sara Watkins the whole time!

Right, yeah! Hiding in plain sight!

Your bluegrass wife.

(Editor’s Note: Listen to the unabridged Basic Folk episode featuring Jobi Riccio here.)

Photo Credit: Monica Murray

Greensky Bluegrass Embrace Musical Therapy Throughout ‘Stress Dreams’

Posted on by Editor

For a band as enmeshed in the live-show experience as Greensky Bluegrass, COVID-19 has been a heavy load to bear. Through cancelled shows, isolation and a two-decade milestone that came and went without proper celebration, a band notorious for letting their creative freak flag fly on hot-rod fusions of bluegrass, jam rock and Americana was cooped up … and stressed out. But not anymore.

Now back on the road and releasing that pent-up energy, Greensky Bluegrass have dropped their eighth studio album, Stress Dreams, which helps capture their difficult chapter in unique terms. For the first time, new members contributed songs to a project surely born of the moment, but not limited by it either. Fresh sounds, expansive arrangements and the most inspired storytelling of their career helped drive the group off the couch and back where they belong, with their ambition clearly intact.

“We’ve accomplished a lot,” dobro player Anders Beck tells The Bluegrass Situation. “We have an incredibly loyal fanbase. We play three nights at Red Rocks that are sold out [each year]. We’ve done it, whatever it is. But for me the idea of someone who’s never heard this band hearing this album, that’s what’s exciting to me, and I hope that happens. … We’re never gonna be [the biggest band in the world], but I hope the sincerity of our music comes through, and the sincerity of these five friends who support each other.”

Just before the album arrived, Beck called in to chat about Stress Dreams — and where the band finds itself, two decades in and one pandemic down.

BGS: You’ve just passed the 20th anniversary of the band, and this album makes it seems like everyone is still inspired by making music. How cool is to still feel that way after so long?

Anders Beck: Yeah, it’s crazy to me. It really is. It’s insane to think the band has been doing this for that long. I joined the band [13 years ago], but Dave [Bruzza], Paul [Hoffman] and [Michael Arlen] Bont, when they were living in Kalamazoo, they were literally like 19- or 20-year-olds. … The first time they played was a Halloween party at Dave’s house full of stoner crazy people, and someone asked what the name of the band was. They didn’t have one, so someone said, “You should call it Greensky Bluegrass.” It was the first time they played! To me it’s really funny.

At the time they were a traditional bluegrass band, and for the first seven years or so they played around a single mic. But the joke of Greensky Bluegrass, the pun at the heart of it, is that “Greensky” is the opposite of “Bluegrass,” right? That’s why it was funny, it was a joke. But then as we have evolved, we have become more like our name than anyone could have imagined! I was talking to someone about it the other day, and it was like “We play bluegrass, but we also play the opposite of bluegrass, and that’s what Greensky Bluegrass is.” The name that someone made up at a house party has really come to fruition.

Last time we talked, it was 2019 and All for Money was just coming out. A big part of that was capturing the passion of the live show, so what was the approach for Stress Dreams?

We had sort of planned on making a record around 2020 or so, and then, you know, a global pandemic hit. We didn’t see each other for months and everything was shut down, so I think we all started writing a little more topically. … It was weird for us, and the songs sort of evolved because of the situation we were in. It was incredibly unique, and not something I expected – and also not something I’d ever choose to do again. But to have our bass player, [Mike] Devol, for example, who has never written a song (or at least never showed us a song he wrote), all the sudden he sends us these songs that are unbelievable, like “Stress Dreams,” “New and Improved,” and “Get Sad.”

Even I wrote a song called “Monument,” and it’s the first one I’ve ever written for an album of ours. … After COVID, I just felt like I had something to write about, and that’s what “Monument” is. The reality is you spend so much time building something, and then suddenly it’s just kind of swept away. The rug gets pulled out from under you. … But we decided that we didn’t want it to be a sad song — like it should be optimistic — so we made the melody and chords and the whole vibe like, if this is the first song we play when we come back, and there’s 10,000 people in a field at Telluride or Bonnaroo or something, let’s make it feel like that vibe. So we did, and it worked! Playing that song at Red Rocks this year, after having one or two years cancelled, it was fucking emotional.

How did recording Stress Dreams work out? Was that one of the first times you could all get back together?

Totally. We did some pre-production in Winter Park, Colorado, where we went to a cabin and started sharing songs for like five days. … Then we all flew to Vermont, and this was like the height of COVID. Like, sketchy times. At the studio, we were nervous about getting COVID from the studio people, and they were nervous about getting COVID from us, so they literally just handed us the keys. It was awesome. … We were there for two weeks. Then we went home for a month or two, listening, then we go back to Asheville to Echo Mountain, where we’ve recorded before. That place feels really comfortable. We did two weeks there, then went home for a while and then came back to do two more weeks [in Asheville]. It was almost, I don’t want to say leisurely, but we had time to fuck around.

That’s not the normal pace, since you’re usually busy on the road. Did that have on any impact on how the sound evolved? I noticed a lot more classic rock-y guitars and pianos.

Well, the electric guitar sound is me on dobro, and that’s evolved from our live shows. I’ve created this thing with my dobro where I put an electric-guitar pickup on it, and Paul Beard, who builds my dobros, helped me do that. So, I can flip a switch and it goes to an amp, so it’s actually a real electric guitar. …

Like on “Grow Together,” I was playing my dobro through twin Marshall stacks, the exact year and setup that Jimi Hendrix used. Glen, our engineer, was like, “Well, you know what Jimi did,” and he flipped some cables around and I sent a video of it to Jerry [Douglas], and he texted me back like, “Did it feel like it was about explode?” [Laughs] … The piano player is Holly Bowling, who got famous by transposing the Phish and Grateful Dead jams note for note. She’s one of the two “sixth members” of our band, and Sam [Bush] is the other sixth member. [laughs]

After a lot of tension and anxiety in the album’s first few acts, it ends on a more hopeful note with “Grow Together” and “Reasons to Stay.” Did you purposely try to leave fans with that feeling?

The idea at the end, the feeling for me is that we made it through. “Reasons to Stay” was kind of a late addition to the album, and at first I was like “I don’t know,” but then two hours later I was like “This song is the shit! It’s cool and sexy.” Then songs like “Give a Shit,” which are fun songs. Paul showed me that and I was like, “Yeah buddy, good job.” Then you’ve got songs like “Get Sad,” which is one Devol wrote, and that’s just intense. I remember when he showed us that and I was like, “Jesus Christ dude, that is emotional stuff.”

Maybe this is too much, but when we record albums, there’s always a weird something weighing on you. All your favorite bands, at some point you’re like, “Man, I liked the last album better.” At a certain point that happens, and I personally don’t feel like that has happened to us yet. Every album we make, I feel like the growth is important and real. We keep creating Greensky music through this evolution of ourselves, and it’s such an interpersonal process.

We’re just being ourselves, and we used to be so nervous about “Are we playing bluegrass or not?” And all the traditional people hate us or whatever because we had the word bluegrass in our name – but they didn’t get the joke! Greensky is the opposite! We had to spend so much time explaining that “We’re like bluegrass, but we’re not,” that it was hard for a while to deal with that. I think now, it’s evolved enough that we’re just ourselves. And it feels good.

Photo Credit: Dylan Langille

The Show On The Road – Allison Russell

Posted on by Shelby Williamson

This week, we launch season 4 of the show with a bilingual banjo-slinging singer-songwriter originally from Montreal and now based in Nashville: Allison Russell.

LISTEN: APPLE PODCASTS • SPOTIFY • STITCHER
 

After two decades of quietly creating heart-on-her-sleeve roots music in hard-touring groups like Po’ Girl, Birds Of Chicago, and recently the supergroup Our Native Daughters – playing the guitar, clarinet, banjo and singing in English and French – the spotlight finally fell straight on Russell in 2021. With the help of her husband and longtime creative partner JT Nero, she released her visceral debut solo record Outside Child which confronts her traumatic childhood head on.

Rarely has an album struck such a nerve in the Americana community, as songs like “4th Day Prayer” use the slippery soul of Al Green’s best work and Mahalia Jackson’s gospel inspiration to paint in white-knuckled detail how she escaped the abusive home of her stepfather for the graveyards and streets of Montreal. As she tells us in the intense conversation from her home in Tennessee, it was her songwriting hero Brandi Carlile who went to bat for her (a bold Instagram DM set fate in motion,) helping get her raw, unreleased songs to Fantasy Records. Thankfully, they wanted to take a leap. Even President Obama noticed after the songs began to circulate and he put her ominous radio standout “Nightflyer” on his favorite songs of the year list. The album has since been nominated for three Grammy awards.

While Allison may feel like an “overnight sensation” to those just discovering her on AAA radio, hearing her soaring voice shining on stages from Carnegie Hall, Red Rocks and the Late Show With Stephen Colbert, she’s been playing hundreds of shows in small clubs and festivals around the world for twenty-two years and counting. It hasn’t been an easy road, as she often had to her young daughter on the trail with her.

With a new book deal in the works continuing her story where Outside Child left off, there is much more to come from Russell. A champion for the often forgotten victims of domestic and sexual abuse, listening to Russell speak reminds one more of a fiery community organizer than a singer. Did your host try and convince Russell to run for office? Maybe.

Stick around to hear her dive into one of her favorite tracks from the new record, the hopeful clarinet shuffle “Poison Arrow.”

The Show on the Road – Shovels & Rope

Posted on by Shelby Williamson

This week, The Show On The Road celebrates the newest record by Charleston’s hellion harmonizers, Shovels & Rope, with a new conversation with the married duo of Michael Trent and Cary Ann Hearst.


LISTEN: APPLE PODCASTS • SPOTIFY • STITCHER

You’d be hard-pressed to find two harder working singer-songwriters than this prolific duo, even before they got together to record their honey-voiced self-titled debut over a decade ago. Thinking it was just a sonic souvenir before they split off again to pursue their barnstorming bar-band solo careers, their human hearts and some encouraging listeners had other plans, convincing them to keep creating as a team. They’ve been off to the races ever since — making five acclaimed records of originals beginning with O’ Be Joyful and following with three gritty covers albums with collaborators like Lucius, Shakey Graves, Brandi Carlile, The War & Treaty, and more.

Shovels & Rope’s newest cover project, Busted Jukebox Volume 3, which dropped on February 5 via Dualtone Records, is a new experiment. You could say it’s an angsty rock record for kids or maybe it’s an homage to the yearning, defiant, ever-hopeful teenager in all of us. With indie-darlings like Sharon Van Etten sitting in on standouts like the Beach Boys’ “In My Room” and Deer Tick joining a rollicking version of the Janis Joplin favorite “Cry Baby,” like a good Pixar animated flick, this collection has just as much to offer Mom and Dad as it does for the kiddos.

If you’ve seen Shovels & Rope live, you’ll notice that Trent and Hearst often face each other, not the audience; their eyes never seem to leave each other. Almost all their songs, like the award-winning favorite “Birmingham,” include spot-on harmony and intensely-focused unison singing. Somehow they create a blisteringly big sound despite always remaining a duo. Even on the biggest stages, from Red Rocks to their own acclaimed festival High Water Fest (set in their longtime South Carolina home base), they stick to their simple but potent formula. Switching back and forth between jangly and crunchy guitars, humming keyboards and pounding piano, hopping from sweat-strewn stripped-down drum kits to aching accordions, their joyous garage-rock Americana keeps gaining them new fans worldwide.

If you’re stuck at home and have kids running rowdily through your house like Shovels & Rope do, (this taping had to be rescheduled three times), maybe try turning on Busted Jukebox Volume 3 nice and loud and see what little ones think. Or just put them to bed and rock out yourself!

Stick around to the end of the episode to hear Shovels & Rope present the sweet campfire jam “My Little Buckaroo” featuring M. Ward.

Photo credit: Mike Crackerfarm

BGS 5+5: Larry Keel

Posted on by Editor

Artist: Larry Keel
Hometown: Lexington, Virginia for the past 24 years.
Latest album: American Dream, out November 6, 2020
Personal nicknames (or rejected band names): My wife and I call each other “Ange” (pronounced “Aynge” with a long “a”) other nicknames are “Doghead” and “Late-night Man.”

What’s your favorite memory from being on stage?

My favorite memory is standing next to two of my heroes that I had studied all my life up to that point, and getting to collaborate and share in the music we made together on stage… I’m speaking of Tony Rice and Vassar Clements, during a period in my career when both of these iconic musicians played regularly in my band. Other major moments I cherish and will never forget are playing with Little Feat in Jamaica on a beach in Negril, playing Carnegie Hall in New York, playing Red Rocks Amphitheatre, and getting to play live music with my wife and my brother all throughout my career.

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

I truly love to paint! Bob Ross got to me early in my childhood, and he’s still all up in my soul. I paint with watercolors, markers, pens, anything when I feel the urge. I guess poetry also influences my music, because I lean on that literary form for my songwriting. And I’m currently getting more into designing a meal and preparing the food, then plating it artistically.

What was the first moment that you knew you wanted to be a musician?

I knew I had to be a musician when I was little and I started paying more attention to my father and older brother playing (they both played guitar, my father also played banjo and sang). I loved watching them have such a good time and I could see how everyone playing music with them or listening to them all enjoyed it so much. Then, when I was 7, my brother bought me a guitar, helped me get started with chords and positions, and I never set the instrument down…I was hooked from then on.

If you had to write a mission statement for your career, what would it be?

The mission is to let the art take me and everyone listening on a journey together, to get us all on the same page for the time we’re connecting through the music. If I had to give myself or a budding musician advice, I’d say be ready to work HARD. Do your music and your business your own way. Let your own instincts and your own style guide your decisions. I’m a big believer in “march to the beat of your own drum…” and, be frugal and be kind.

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

I spend lots of time in the garden, right here at my home. It’s such a zen feeling to plant seeds, nurture them, watch them grow and then enjoy the fruits and veggies of mine and my wife’s labor. Fishing and being on any water is another zen-like activity that keeps me grounded. All in all, I try to spend as much time as possible in nature, because it charges up my “feel-good” and gives me a connection to something timeless and eternal. I’m always trying to tap that genuine energy when I write and play music. That’s the goal.

Photo credit: Lyric Photography