May is Mental Health Awareness Month, but for those with lived experience, every day is about mental health awareness. During the most difficult times, many creators and listeners turn to music. It’s where we connect through lyrics and melodies that express the things we so often cannot, will not, dare not say.
The intersection of music and mental health is nothing new. Long before memes and catchphrases about “break the stigma,” Hank Williams did just that with “I’m So Lonesome I Could Cry.” Years later, Porter Wagoner exposed the ugly unspoken truth about “The Rubber Room.”
Thankfully, through incremental steps, times have changed – although not enough – in terms of media portrayal and public discourse. With great courage, more and more artists are coming forward about their struggles. Dozens of artists and musicians have spoken openly with BGS and Good Country about how mental health challenges move them to create songs and albums that make us all feel a little bit less alone. (Scroll to find our playlist of roots songs all about mental health below.)
Artists and bands like Becky Buller, Courtney Marie Andrews, Sister Sadie, and Tenille Townes give us glimpses at how mental health and self-care inform their creative processes and how they craft their songs, albums, and sets. Groups like Southern Avenue and the Band Loula – who make music built on the sonic and storytelling traditions of the South – subvert regional expectations about what’s “allowed” to be spoken about in the light of day with their approaches to infusing mental health awareness into their songs. Still more conversations with artists like Fruit Bats, Cole Chaney, Emily Scott Robinson, and Chely Wright reinforce that mental health in roots music isn’t a fad or passing trend, it’s an intentional through line. Songwriting and roots music are perfect vehicles for this sort of vulnerability and these once forbidden topics.
The proliferation of YouTube and democratization of music videos in the 2000s and 2010s opened up new dimensions for artists, giving them more formats in which to express themselves, depict their work, and consider mental health. Additionally, of course, it offers live performances that go beyond anything a studio recording can capture.
“I Think It’s Going to Rain Today” – Randy Newman
Randy Newman’s masterpiece has been covered many times, and the internet is full of those recordings – as well as his. This performance, however, at his induction into the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame, may very well surpass them all.
“God, Can You Hear Me?” – Dax
Dax is fearless in addressing the most difficult and “taboo” topics. “God, Can You Hear Me?” asks the unspoken question within the context of a subject that far too many people refuse to address: suicidal ideation. (Content warning: graphic.)
“Let the Circle Be Broken” – Sister Sadie
In genres predicated upon generational legacies and “handing down” tradition, Sister Sadie’s song of release, letting go, and stepping out from underneath the long shadow of generational traumas is more than powerful. By the same token, that it was written and is sung and performed by a band of all women makes it a truly transcendent message. Some circles are meant to remain unbroken, others must be demolished.
“Bench Seat” – Chase Rice
Chase Rice broke down walls and stereotypes and opened doors to discussions about suicide with this multiple-award-winning video. Country needed this. Country needs more of this. (Content warning: graphic.)
“Hurt” – Johnny Cash
Johnny Cash. Enough said.
“I’m Gonna Be the Wind” – Laurie Lewis
Bluegrass legend Laurie Lewis has penned many a fine song tackling issues of mental health, but this is the song for when you’re ready to stride out anew again. It’s a song of strength, resilience, of realizing that often one of the primary forces keeping us down is our own mindset. Tired of being a blade of grass, bent and bruised by the wind? Be the wind!
“Sunday Morning Coming Down” – The Highwaymen
Mickey Raphael described them as “like Mount Rushmore onstage” and called Kris Kristofferson “the Shakespeare of our time.” This is why.
“Will the Sun Ever Shine Again” – Bonnie Raitt
One of the best songs Bonnie Raitt has ever sung and released was recorded for the 2004 animated film Home on the Range. Devastating, endlessly relatable, but ultimately hopeful, the film cut of “Will the Sun Ever Shine Again” is hard to track down on streaming services and online, but it’s truly lovely. A gem of a soundtrack find from an often overlooked Disney children’s movie from the aughts.
“Alone Again (Naturally)” – Gilbert O’Sullivan
In 1971, Gilbert O’Sullivan bravely addressed loss, grief, heartbreak, loneliness, depression, suicidal thoughts, and questions of faith, wrapped them up in a lovely melody, set them to a catchy beat, and rode to the top of the charts with one of the most gutting, most accurate depictions of mental health challenges ever put to song. Decades and numerous cover versions later, stripped down to keyboard and guitar, his voice aged like fine wine, “Alone Again (Naturally)” remains poignantly accurate and relatable.
“Bad Mind” – Erin Rae
A song so perfect in its illustration of how we project and ascribe mental health, onto ourselves and others. We all may know, somewhere inside ourselves, that there is no such thing as a “Bad Mind,” but stigma and internalized expectations leave so many of us feeling broken and “incorrect.” Listening to Erin Rae sing this lovely, devastating song brings an immediate feeling of needing to reassure the singer that there really aren’t bad minds… and thereby the realization we should also apply that grace to ourselves.
Below, you’ll find our full playlist of nearly 8 hours of roots music created by the teams at BGS and Good Country that features some of the many excellent songs that address mental health. For Mental Health Awareness Month and beyond.
Photo Credit: (L to R) Cole Chaney by Anthony Simpkins; Sister Sadie courtesy of the artist; Dax by Annie Devine.
Additional curation and contributions by Shelby Williamson and Justin Hiltner.
Matt Smith is a living legend with his unbelievable 30-year run at Club Passim, the historic folk venue nestled in a Harvard Square basement. Currently in the role of Managing Director at Passim, Matt is the most passionate music lover I know. He has used his platform at the club to help establish artists like Lori McKenna, Anaïs Mitchell, Lake Street Dive, and so many more. I met Matt while working as a student at WERS 88.9FM, where he brought fantastic shows to a listening room filled with people who were clamoring for honest music in an intimate space. He’s been a very good friend and mentor to myself and thousands of musicians since he began his tenure at the club in 1995.
In honor of Matt’s 30th anniversary at Passim, we brought two longtime friends on the pod to talk to him about his role in the Passim community – and beyond. Musicians Edie Carey and Dinty Child join us in conversation with Matt; he shares advice he would give his younger self, we chat about what a vacation without music would look like, and his incredible memory. That memory is tested in our lightning round where he answers Passim trivia (almost 100% correctly). There’s also a discussion about what Matt is most proud of in all his years at the club: the campfire. festival, which takes place every Memorial Day and Labor Day weekends featuring sets in-the-round of mostly unknown new acts. I would imagine if you’re listening to this episode of Basic Folk, you either know Matt or Club Passim. Hello to all our friends and I hope you enjoy this window into one of the best people we’ve ever known: Matt Smith!
Here’s your weekly dose of new roots music! You Gotta Hear This…
A perfect kick-off to the weekend comes from Dominique and the Diamonds, who are previewing their next single, “Cocaine,” ahead of its release next week. Perhaps frontwoman, singer-songwriter (and Honky Tonk Queen) Dominique Gomez, isn’t the “crazy party girl” she once was, but she channels fun rockin’ and rollin’ party energy in full force on the country-folk number.
Next up, Matt Jones and the Bobs share a video for “The Weight of the World,” out today. No matter the burdens we all carry, the song offers a message of hope and resilience. As Jones puts it in talking about the song with BGS, “The song looks at struggle not as defeat, but as a universal weight we all carry and the beauty of having someone there to help lighten the load.” It’s certainly a timely message.
For a little rockabilly-steeped Americana, Arkansas-based country group Midnight South give us an exclusive preview of their upcoming single, “Curves in a Square Body,” set for release next week. Dripping with nostalgia and built around a solid country hook, it’s a twang-ful number perfect for putting the pedal to the metal – even if you don’t happen to be lucky enough to be driving around in a square body. Add this one to the list of actually good country songs about trucks.
Capping off our roundup today is bluegrass mandolinist Danny Roberts, whom you may recognize from The Grascals. Roberts’ brand-new album The Winding Road Leads Home is out today, so we’re celebrating by sharing a lovely and sweet instrumental number – with a funny title, “Tologna Bologna.” (That’s pronounced “Tony Baloney,” per Danny.) If you’re more familiar with the mandolin as a barn-burning instrument, Roberts often shows the depth and breadth of the instrument, as he does on this track.
We’ll let you go so you can get to listening! You Gotta Hear This.
Dominique and the Diamonds, “Cocaine”
Artist:Dominique and the Diamonds Hometown: Los Angeles, California Song: “Cocaine” Album:Honky Tonk Queen Release Date: May 29, 2026 (single); June 26, 2026 (album)
In Their Words: “‘Cocaine’ is loosely based on a true story. I was a broke and debaucherous 20-year-old in San Francisco with a dealer who incessantly kept asking me out. I started to imagine how my life would have turned out if I did end up going on those dates with him. The song basically wrote itself from there. I’m nowhere near the crazy party girl I once was! But I wanted this song to be the perfect blend of country and rock ‘n’ roll as an ode to that era of my life. ‘Party girl Dom’ was a mess, but I don’t regret a single thing about her.” – Dominique Gomez
Matt Jones and the Bobs, “The Weight of the World”
Artist:Matt Jones and the Bobs Hometown: Salem, Virginia Song: “The Weight Of The World” Release Date: May 22, 2026
In Their Words: “‘The Weight of the World’ reflects on life’s burdens and the quiet strength it takes to face them, while honoring the friends who help shoulder what we can’t. The song looks at struggle not as defeat, but as a universal weight we all carry and the beauty of having someone there to help lighten the load. It is a song about struggle, resilience, and the quiet beauty of friendship, sitting at the emotional center of everything the band has worked toward since their return. For the listeners who have been with them since college and those discovering them now, the message is the same: your story matters, even the hard parts. We have lived that truth, and we are finally ready to tell it in full.” – Matt Jones
Track Credits: Matt Jones – Vocals, acoustic guitar Pat Keefe – Electric guitar Jonthan Crandall – Piano Trevor Creany – Drums Andrew Carper – Bass guitar
Video Credits: Matt Jones, Jonathan Crandall, Kevin McNeill
Midnight South, “Curves in a Square Body”
Artist:Midnight South Hometown: Little Rock, Arkansas Song: “Curves in a Square Body” Release Date: May 29, 2026 Label: Rock Ridge Music
In Their Words: “We started with this simple idea of contrast – curves set against a square body – and it just sparked something that felt bigger than the visual. Like a lot of our songs, it naturally drifted into something nostalgic and before we knew it, we were writing about that first truck and all the memories tied up in it.
“From the beginning, the energy of the track pushed us to keep things lively and fun and that really carried through the entire process. Working with Ben Jackson took it to another level – he helped us shape the sound and brought a clarity and punch to the production and mix that really made the song come alive. It’s one of those tracks where everything just clicked in the studio and you can hear that excitement in the final version. We chose it as a single because it feels like a perfect snapshot of who we are right now – high energy, rooted in storytelling, and not afraid to lean into a little nostalgia. At its core, it’s about holding onto those early moments that define you and realizing how much they still ride with you today.” – Darin Davis
Track Credits: Ben Jackson – Percussion, producer, engineer Darin Davis – Drums JL Jones – Acoustic guitar, background vocals Billy Lowe III – Electric guitar, background vocals David Tidwell – Bass Steve Hinson – Pedal steel guitar Wil Houchens – Keyboards, Hammond B3 organ Matt Sammons – Lead vocals
Danny Roberts, “Tologna Bologna”
Artist:Danny Roberts Hometown: Nashville, Tennessee Song: “Tologna Bologna” Album:The Winding Road Leads Home Release Date: May 22, 2026 Label: Mountain Home Music Company
In Their Words: “When I wrote this tune, I had my great friend Tony Wray in mind. He’s played on all of my records and has helped me arrange much of my music, so I wanted to name it for him. If you listen closely to the melody, you might catch a little nod to the old Oscar Mayer bologna TV commercial – which is where the spelling ‘Tologna Bologna’ comes from. (I say it ‘Tony Baloney,’ though.) I hope you enjoy ‘Tologna Bologna,’ and make sure to check out my new album The Winding Road Leads Home that’s out today!” – Danny Roberts
Track Credits: Andrea Roberts – Bass Tony Wray – Acoustic guitar, banjo Danny Roberts – Mandolin Adam Haynes – Fiddle
Photo Credit: Danny Roberts courtesy of the artist; Midnight South by RK Barger Photography.
It’s another week where popcorn may be necessary to fully enjoy our weekly new music round-up, with all of the new music videos included below! You Gotta Hear This…
Our first screening is some cosmic California country from Mac Cornish, who’s sharing a music video for the title track of her upcoming album, Wayfaring Woman. The full LP will launch in September, so enjoy this early taste of the project, a song about finding, re-finding, and returning to oneself despite time, geography, and all that comes between.
We have a couple of fun and funny videos you’ll enjoy as well. Nashville-based husband-and-wife roots duo Zaggie (Zach & Maggie White) have a new single and video for “Parking Lot Vacation.” Sometimes a need to unplug, unwind, and relax can be satiated with a good ol’ fashioned sit in a parking lot. The video is witty and hilarious to match the flowing, island-getaway sonics of the song. Plus, Essence & Gold Country have a gut-busting video to tribute Mother’s Day and every “Good Mom” out there. As frontwoman Essence Goldman puts it, it’s all about “the beautiful chaos of motherhood and the truth that we don’t have to lose ourselves to be a good mom.” It’s bluegrassy country that will get your toe tapping while bringing a smile to your face.
Also just in time for Mother’s Day, our old friend Courtney Hartman shares an intimate and tender peformance video for “Honey, Honey,” a song she wrote dripping with love for her young daughter, describing the perfection of her child through her own eyes and building her up for a life built on love, confidence, and strength. It’s gut-wrenching and comforting at the same time, a deft balance that Hartman is well known for in her songwriting and guitar picking. It’s a lovely video for the occasion – and beyond – and announces her upcoming album, With You: From The Garden Shed, set for release June 12.
From bluegrass, Jaelee Roberts has a new single that was written by bluegrass radio personality and songwriter Terry Herd. “I’m Putting You Out of My Misery” pulls inspiration from traditional hard-driving bluegrass and contemporary sounds equally and boasts a stacked roster of pickers rounding out the band behind Jaelee’s gorgeous, crystalline vocals.
Country and Americana powerhouse Dee White has a new song as well, “Green River Rye,” which dropped earlier this week. Check it out below, it’s a pretty stripped-down recording made with just a simple acoustic trio – with Brian Murray and Jimmy Law – that lands somewhere between classic folk, country & western, and bluegrass, aesthetically. With whiskey as its centerpiece, it’s a lonesome and longing song that feels truly timeless – like you could sing along intuitively immediately, even on first listen. And don’t miss singer-songwriter Zach Seabaugh’s “Owes You Nothing,” a song about navigating Nashville, Music Row, and the music industry without losing your sense of self – or comparing yourself to everyone else you meet along the way. It’s a lovely track built on sensitive and brooding modern country sounds.
Celebrate your Mother’s Day weekend by calling your mama (who is definitely a good mom), sipping some Green River Rye, and taking a parking lot vacation – you’ve earned it. And, You Gotta Hear This!
Mac Cornish, “Wayfaring Woman”
Artist:Mac Cornish Hometown: Raised Bay Area, California, based in Nashville, Tennessee Song: “Wayfaring Woman” Album:Wayfaring Woman Release Date: May 8, 2026 (single); September 25, 2026 (album)
In Their Words: “‘Wayfaring Woman’ is a song about a girl who stays moving so her past won’t catch up to her – and so she won’t have to face herself. By the time I finished writing it I realized it was about myself. It was my way of telling myself, ‘It’s alright to cry, but it’s time to remember who you are and stop this cycle.’ So when I sing, ‘Even in yours lows, you can always go home,’ I mean the place and the state of mind.
“Making my way back to myself has always felt connected to the California home of my youth. Those canyon roads and golden hills remind me of who I am and who I always dreamed of being. I might not be able to access those places physically anymore, but the sense of self that I found there is within me and this song is a reminder to myself that I can always go back, I can always go home to myself. ‘Wayfaring Woman’ is the title track and first single off my second record, set to come out in September 25. It’s steeped in cosmic California twang, and I don’t think I’ve ever sounded more like myself.” – Mac Cornish
Track Credits: Mac Cornish – Vocals, acoustic guitar, songwriter Hillary Fretland – Harmony vocals Charlie Fuertsch – Electric guitar Cooper Dickerson – Steel guitar Jack Lawrence – Bass Dave Racine – Drums
Video Credit: Directed and filmed by Janaya Pardo.
Essence & Gold Country, “Good Mom”
Artist:Essence & Gold Country Hometown: San Francisco, California Song: “Good Mom” Album:Father’s Daughter Release Date: May 8, 2026 (video); September 26, 2025 (album) Label: Blue Elan
In Their Words: “This ‘Good Mom’ video is about the beautiful chaos of motherhood and the truth that we don’t have to lose ourselves to be a good mom. It holds that tension between giving everything to our children and still claiming space for our own soul, and taking care of ourselves so we have more to give.
“This song gets the best reaction when I perform it live. I just watch the mothers start laughing and shaking their heads in agreement. It is hard for me not to laugh when I sing it. Any mom out there can relate. We thought it was fun to release this music video as as a gift to all the moms on Mother’s Day. Though in my opinion, every day should be Mother’s Day!” – Essence Goldman
Artist:Courtney Hartman Hometown: Eau Claire, Wisconsin Song: “Honey, Honey” Album:With You: From The Garden Shed Release Date: May 8, 2026 (single); June 12, 2026 (album)
In Their Words: “‘Honey, Honey’ is a love song to my daughter – a collage of daily imagery and truths I want her to hold onto. She has taught me about delight and even as I am the one cradling her and giving her comfort, it is often my own heart being mended by her.
“In the final verse I list a few things I want her to remember when I am not there to hold her, ‘quiet waters, soothe and sway, sunlight and kindness, the cradle of a day. You’re brave as an iris, a bright display, a trumpeter swan lifting up and away.’ Tift Merritt co-wrote this song with me, helping me clear away the debris and uncover within my own days the scenes I most wanted to sing.” – Courtney Hartman
Video Credits: Filmed by Kyle Lehman. Edited by Erik Elstran.
Jaelee Roberts, “I’m Putting You Out of My Misery”
Artist:Jaelee Roberts Hometown: Nashville, Tennessee Song: “I’m Putting You Out of My Misery” Label: Mountain Home Music Company Release Date: May 8, 2026
In Their Words: “‘I’m Putting You Out of My Misery’ is one of those songs that stopped me in my tracks the first time I heard it. Terry Herd wrote an incredible song and I fell in love with it right away. To me, it strikes the perfect balance between that hard-driving traditional sound and a touch of contemporary bluegrass. I absolutely love how everything came together in the studio. I’ve always enjoyed a song with a little bit of attitude and this one definitely delivers.
“I was also fortunate to have some amazing musicians join me on the recording. Alan Bartram on bass, Ron Stewart on banjo, Tony Wray on guitar, Michael Cleveland on fiddle, Justin Moses on mandolin and Dobro, and Zack Arnold adding harmony vocals. Getting to collaborate with such talented players made this project especially meaningful to me. I’m truly proud of how the track turned out, and I’m so thankful to each of them for being part of it. I hope you all enjoy listening to it as much as I enjoyed recording it.” – Jaelee Roberts
Track Credits: Jaelee Roberts – Lead vocal Alan Bartram – Bass Ron Stewart – Banjo Tony Wray – Guitar Michael Cleveland – Fiddle Justin Moses – Mandolin, resonator guitar Zack Arnold – Harmony vocal
Zach Seabaugh, “Owes You Nothing”
Artist:Zach Seabaugh Hometown: Marietta, Georgia & Nashville, Tennessee Song: “Owes You Nothing” Release Date: May 8, 2026 (single) Label: Cloverdale Records
In Their Words: “This song came at a time when I needed to check myself – on where I was in life – and on the people in my life I didn’t want to take for granted. I wrote it with Park Chisolm and Reid Haughton on Music Row. I was talking to them about how hard it is sometimes to show up in Nashville, to be creative for a living. You can fall into the comparison trap when so much of the industry around you is trying to set out for the same thing. But I don’t like feeling sorry for myself. I’m super grateful for what I have and who I get to live life with and at the end of the day, I guess this world owes you nothing. So you gotta make the most with what you got—that’s when you realize you got all you need.” – Zach Seabaugh
Dee White, “Green River Rye”
Artist:Dee White Hometown: Slapout, Alabama Song: “Green River Rye” Release Date: May 6, 2026
In Their Words: “I first discovered Green River Rye Whiskey during a hunting trip to Kentucky. The bottle instantly caught my eye – it was the same one I remembered from an antique lithograph that hung in my childhood home. At the time, my girlfriend had just left me, and the chorus melody had already popped into my head. Later that night, I was hanging out with my buddies Jimmy and Brian and we finalized the music and lyrics. The very next evening, we went into the studio and recorded it as an acoustic trio in Nashville.” – Dee White
Zaggie, “Parking Lot Vacation”
Artist:Zaggie Hometown: Nashville, Tennessee Song: “Parking Lot Vacation” Album:Turpentine Mind Release Date: May 6, 2026 (single); August 26, 2026 (album) Label: Zaggie Records
In Their Words: “‘Parking Lot Vacation’ came from the exact mental-headspace-shift the song is about. I was supposed to be writing. Instead, I was staring at a blank page for long enough that it started staring back. Eventually I just… leaned back, let myself off the hook for a bit, and the song showed up. Turns out vacations are less about where you are and more about the moment you stop letting petty anxieties run the show. A good car seat, a warm breeze, a window cracked just right is sometimes all I need. We’ve seen a lot of beautiful places in the world and a parking lot on the right day is genuinely in the conversation.” – Zach White
Track Credits: Zach White – Vocals, guitar, songwriter Maggie White – Mandolin Dan Needham – Drums Byron House – Bass Chris Walters – Piano
Video Credits: Cast: Annabelle Fox-Tieman, Douglas Waterbury-Tieman, Ollie Fox-Tieman, Huck Fox-Tieman, Emily Rogers, Josée Klein. Directed and edited by Zach White. Location Videography by BAMM Productions.
Photo Credit: Courtney Hartman by Michelle Bennett; Dee White by John Peets.
By now, Josiah Leming is a master of reinvention. In the early 2000s, he signed a major label deal, then went indie for a while. Some of his albums leaned on his rock influences; others were more folk-oriented. He’s released a healthy number of covers projects, but can write songs as well as anybody who’s been in the business for 20 years. Leming also recorded under his own name before rebranding himself as Josiah and the Bonnevilles. And he’s about to be all over the map, literally, when he launches his Redline North American Tour in May with openers Max Alan and Brenna MacMillan.
Josiah and the Bonnevilles’ base should only grow with As Is, out May 8 on Rounder Records. Returning with a more electric approach, Leming co-produced the album with Konrad Snyder.
“It was important to me that the album sound different, but not so different that people don’t recognize it,” Leming tells BGS. “That was actually a pretty tough thing to do, because it’s easy to change things and really turn them on their head, but to have it still feel like it came from the music that came before it was something I thought a lot about.”
A proud native of Morristown, Tennessee, and now living in Nashville, Leming caught up with BGS to talk about how he picked up the banjo, the positive results of listening to Ralph Stanley, and how Jack Reacher helped him define his relationship with his fans.
I noticed the first line of the first song on the new album is, “I’ve been staying out and off the internet,” and after listening to the album a couple times, I realized that’s an important line for this whole record. Was there sort of a recentering, or a desire to disconnect, maybe, as you went into this album?
Josiah Leming: It was a huge part of it. And I still struggle with it a little bit, because the reason I got to where I am now is because I embraced the internet, I embraced social media, and I shared my life with people, day in and day out. I was 33 years old, fighting and scrapping to have a place, making music as a living. But I found as we got toward the end of 2024, the things that I was doing to sustain the level that I was at were coming directly at the cost of the essential thing that goes into the music.
Like, things had never been better. My shows were as big as they’d ever been. Everything was cooking on all cylinders, but I didn’t have any new songs that I was very excited to share. I needed to completely cut myself off from that world of the promotion cycle and the daily posting. … I have always written so autobiographically, and it would have been very easy for me to write an album about the struggles of the road or an album that would make a lot of sense to me. But I started thinking about 13-year-old Josiah in Morristown, Tennessee, and that guy doesn’t care what it’s like to be in Tulsa on a Thursday night, and maybe you’re a little lonely. Like, I gotta cut deeper to the core of this thing that’s not just about me.
That took me 30 or 40 songs to write out all of that stuff, to get to where I could look a little deeper for the meaning and the songs that somebody would understand if they weren’t a touring musician. That was the ultimate goal for me with the record, to make something where people don’t think about me when they listen to it. They can maybe just put it on in the garage. When I put on Ralph Stanley or AC/DC in the garage, I don’t think about Angus Young or Malcolm Young or Brian Johnson. I think, “Damn, this is an awesome day. This is a soundtrack to my life.” And I hope I have done that somewhere on this album.
How much of an influence did your Appalachian roots have on this album?
It’s really interesting. So the bio for the album was written by an author named Silas House. We had a chat and he actually asked me a similar question. He was like, “It feels Appalachian, even though it isn’t that obvious.” I think that’s because of the language I use that I grew up with. I think a lot about when I write, “Would my dad understand it?” My dad’s a simple, working-class man. So if things get too complicated, lyrically, then I want to change that to make it simpler.
That’s a lot of it, and I really went into the deep phase with Ralph and a lot of older stuff. That really changed my perspective on how I see myself in this industry. It’s very easy to start to get into this race to the top, and you’re looking at analytics, and you want more monthly listeners and all this stuff. Listening to bluegrass, and Ralph Stanley especially, all that kind of disappears, and it just becomes about the raw emotion of it. Which is what I fell in love with in the first place, when it felt like I had to do music.
How did Brenna MacMillan get involved with the project?
I was tracking a demo to a different song, a song I love but that’s very strange. And I was like, “I really want a banjo player.” Back in the day, I used to use Craigslist to find background singers because I love finding new people. So I put up an Instagram story and somebody sent me Brenna’s account. I watched one video and I thought, “This is just like lightning in your veins.” She’s so awesome. The energy in the banjo and the voice. And we had connected but it didn’t work out that particular moment.
So when it came time where I wanted banjo on the record, I hit Brenna up again because we’d exchanged numbers. She came in, and she’s just amazing. She doesn’t know how good she is. She’s been tour managing the band East Nash Grass, which I love. I’ve been listening to them a ton right now. I was like, “We need you in the band.” So now she’s in the band, she’s touring with us, and she’s going to open up the shows. I’m so excited for people to hear her.
When did you first pick up the banjo?
My grandpa gave me a banjo. He loved George Jones. He was a hard-drinkin’, George Jones-lovin’, bluegrass-lovin’ guy. He had a banjo and a Dobro he gave me, and I fiddled around with that. And then, all of us guitar players, when we find the six-string banjo, we’re so pumped because we don’t have to learn all these new chord shapes. So, it’s been a couple of years that I’ve been adding in the six-string banjo on things when I play, and I still play that on “Redline.” I am using the finger picks now, rather than my nails. So I feel like I’m starting to cross the bridge… if I can learn some shapes on the real banjo, maybe I can do some damage one day.
In “Redline,” it seems like you’re writing for the people you grew up with. People in your life who have hope, but it’s just hard. Who do you have in mind when you write a song like “Redline”?
It makes me emotional, honestly. I think about my dad all the time. It’s like I have all this… it’s not anger, but there’s very strong feelings. While I’m doing very well in my career, it’s better than it’s ever been, most people that I know are not winning in this modern world. Where everything is through the phone, and it’s the only way to access social circles. It’s the only way sometimes to order a damn McDonald’s sandwich. And there’s just this barrier, there’s this divide.
I see it with my dad, and my grandparents, just being left behind. And also working people. We shot the video for “Hell Without the Flames” down in Colombia, because that’s where all these jobs have gone, and now they pay these people even less than they paid before. So there’s just something that I can’t get out of my brain. I think about it all the time. That’s an important song to me. We love playing it. The band loves playing it. So I appreciate you asking that, it means a lot.
You’re welcome, and this may be a good segue to ask about “You’ll Never Leave Harlan Alive.” I found your version when I was going through your Country Covers EPs. It tells a similar story, about how grandma and grandpa had to keep working to live. Why did that song pull you in?
I probably heard that song first on Justified and I think that would have been the Darrell Scott version, the original. And I had always loved it. I mean, that’s just one of the best songs ever made. Talking with Silas about it, or anybody from the region, it’s so complicated because there’s so much pride. I like to think that there’s so much pride in working for so little, but these people are exploited over and over again. We don’t have aspirations of gold palaces or island complexes, so we’ve just been consistently taken advantage of, because we have this value system that’s a lot different. It makes you sad, sometimes it makes you angry, and sometimes it also makes you proud, and it’s really complicated feelings around all of it.
But it also seems like it’s important for you to share the music that you like. You’re writing songs that you want your audience to relate to. You’re covering songs to maybe introduce the music you like to your fans. You’re bringing musicians you like out on tour with you. Your fans can tell what you’re into through the company you keep. Is that part of your creative vision, to share with your audience who you’re listening to and what you like?
I think so, yeah. I was thinking recently, I always had service jobs growing up. I would serve tables or I would bartend. As I get older, I just see myself as having a responsibility. I think I had the responsibility to get off the internet for a year to write the best album that I could, rather than perpetuating my brand with songs that sounded similar. I feel like I have a responsibility to have the upbeat songs in the set list. If people are flying into town or driving 10 hours, it’s my responsibility to give them an experience.
There’s a great quote that I love from the Jack Reacher books. I love anything like James Bond, Reacher, or Tom Clancy. I love that stuff. But the author of Jack Reacher has a great quote about a handshake. And to make a handshake work, there’s got to be the hand on the other side that shakes back. I think about that in everything I do these days, since I read that. I wouldn’t get a lot of benefit out of just making music that I love and putting it out in the world if there’s not that hand on the other side. So I am at the point in my life where I think about those people that I’m looking at when I play live, and there’s a responsibility to me to weave what I’m excited about into what I hope will connect with them.
Want to see Josiah and the Bonnevilles live at the Fonda Theatre in Los Angeles on May 21, 2026? Enter to win tickets here!
(Editor’s Note: Enjoy our tour of New York City honky-tonk, juke joint, and cocktail lounge Lucinda’s as a special postlogue to our Artist of the Month coverage of Lucinda Williams during March 2026.)
It’s the first springtime Sunday in Manhattan and after a bitter winter, the East Village is humming with human activity. Around the corner from the throng of Tompkins Square Park, where Girl Scouts hawk cookies and roller hockey players clatter their sticks and skates, tumbles of acoustic guitar spill from a storefront, attracting curious passers-by. Some folks pause and lean toward the open windows, and a few cross the threshold to meet wafts of fresh popcorn. Welcome to Lucinda’s.
The bar’s tin ceiling interior is catnip to music history aficionados and Americana-kitsch collectors alike, the walls hung with poster prints, vintage memorabilia, and velvet paintings (among them Kitty Wells, Robert Johnson, and Elvis Presley shaking hands with Jesus Christ). There’s a jukebox ready to sling beloved feels-good-to-feel-bad hits, and peanut figurines with Jimmy Carter grinning and holding court over the liquor. These accoutrements all play second fiddle to the spot’s main attraction: live music meant for casual socializing every day of the week.
This robust programming – along with some of the bar’s most prized decorative items – is the work of Kelley Swindall, a musician and New Yorker of 20 years who grew up in Stone Mountain, Georgia. She takes pride in a large round aluminum Coca-Cola sign, an item on “permanent loan” from her family and one of several wall-hung nods to Georgia’s most lucrative liquid export. She’s more proud of filling a void in New York City nightlife. “There’s a lot of Southern people in the city that went to SEC schools that want to have some Southern culture again, like college football, or listening to music that they love and don’t normally hear in New York,” Swindall says.
Though the city has a handful of country-themed, sometimes Western-leaning bars – Williamsburg’s hootin-hollerin Skinny Dennis, the self-explanatory Honky Tonkin’ in Queens, the West Village’s Tex-Mex-y Cowgirl – Swindall wanted to develop a place to celebrate the early country, blues, folk, and other vernacular music that shaped generations of American song. She yearned for the sort of places she knew growing up and got to know as a touring musician, rooms where casual live music fosters socializing instead of hampering it. “That’s what the juke joints and honky-tonks were back in the day – it was live music as the soundtrack of the evening, but you were hanging out, drinking, dancing, and socializing,” Swindall says.
Swindall found a business partner in Laura McCarthy, who has a storied history of her own at 169 Avenue A running prior venues Brownies and Coney Island Baby. The pair found a namesake and patron saint of sorts in Lucinda Williams, with whom they connected through mutual friends. Williams agreed to endorse the place, her multi-stranded artistry anchoring the team’s vision for honoring the deep musical roots of the American South. She christened the stage with a set as part of the bar’s opening-night festivities last July.
On a Saturday night, Lucinda’s is rollicking, packed front to back with revelers before some New Yorkers have even gone to dinner. There’s college basketball on one TV, and The Best Little Whorehouse in Texas on the other. I want to mill around and make conversation, but the bar is thick with boisterous, overlapping shouts converging with mid-1990s Tim McGraw and Shania Twain songs that radiate in my bones.
The mission of Lucinda’s is evidently working. With my elbows pinned to my sides, I chat with Emily from Texas and two girls who rolled up for one of several birthday gatherings in progress. After his friend paws at my unattended leftover garlic knots, Gavin, an Irish ex-pat and country music fan, tells me it’s his first time at Lucinda’s after hearing about it on TikTok. “We were in the neighborhood, and we wanted to come in. We already had plans somewhere else, and we made it our business to come back here,” he says, enthralled with the room’s unique decor. I don’t get a chance to ask his thoughts on the Dolly Parton or Johnny Cash bathrooms before he peels off with drinks in each hand.
Spirits are high, but by Lucinda’s standards, the fun has barely started: a few musicians are shouldering their way through to the corner stage. Nightly music programming is a staple at Lucinda’s, which Swindall accomplishes with standing residencies and open mics alongside other ticketed events. There’s a loose structure week to week; weekends are for the big sing-along bands, Sunday evenings are for classic country, and bluegrass and some old-time are on Tuesdays. “I was an artist first, and I still am, so I wanted to focus on the kind of music that I’m into,” Swindall says, adding that Thursday night is for two-stepping.
The Sunday open mics are a binding force to Lucinda’s operating concepts. Sign-ups start at 1 p.m. every Sunday, running through the afternoon until another outfit takes the stage for the evening. There are some gentle guidelines (no covers, no backing tracks), aimed toward bringing a pleasant and equitable atmosphere to the gatherings. Swindall prioritizes the artists’ experiences at these weekly forays, remembering open mics as essential to her relationship-building and development as a young musician.
“It’s more important to have people able to come in and play their songs, everyone listen, rather than have a thriving bar culture that day,” she says. Drawing further on her artist’s perspective, Swindall fosters the open mic knowing the challenges of getting a foothold in bigger booking circuits. “A lot of places, they don’t want to book you unless you can bring a crowd or you can show them live footage. It’s really great to give people an avenue to get comfortable on stage and get feedback for their songs,” Swindall says.
Moreover, the shindigs help Swindall expand her pool for her month-to-month bookings, strengthening the network of relationships that are essential to the arts-forward community that McCarthy and Swindall hope to nourish.
Almost a full year in, Swindall is eyeing a steady growth pattern. She worked her way up to music every night of the week and now sometimes has two shows a night; she’s starting to entertain ideas for a small festival. “From a bar point of view, there’s so much to do,” she says.
The space isn’t zoned for a kitchen, but Swindall wants to figure out some kind of food element; in the meantime, patrons can bring in takeout or ask a bartender nicely for a Moon Pie, a bag of Zapp’s chips, or a bowl of popcorn. Swindall will stay busy as she aims to make Lucinda’s even more of a place for the “all” in “y’all.”
Stop in, sit down, shake loose. Connect with a song, or maybe a stranger.
After writing with Dan Auerbach for her 2021 debut, Real Me, and with Sturgill Simpson on 2023’s Kentucky Blue, Brit Taylor instead looked in-house to bring her latest effort, Land Of The Forgotten, to life.
Cue up her husband, Adam Chaffins. Taylor not only co-wrote seven of the album’s 11 songs with Chaffins, but asked him to produce the record, as well – his second straight after doing the same for Kentucky Bluegrassed (2024) as well. Together the two homed in on tunes rich in working class and Appalachian themes that push back and occasionally lean into narratives about the region and its people.
From the hillbilly manifestations of “Broke No More” to throwing all your ex’s possessions out on the curb (“All For Sale”), to the resilience of mountain folk (“Land Of The Forgotten”) and infidelity with the bottle (“Warning You Whiskey”), Taylor shows that Appalachia is much more than just a footnote or only worth mentioning when things go sideways.
“It puts a lighthearted spin on some of the tougher things about life,” says Taylor. “Not to make light of difficult times, but to remind us two things can exist at one time. And, [remind us] not to forget to take a look at the bright side too, and to not take it all so seriously.
“There’s a lot of awful things happening in the world that we need to be aware of and need to do what we can to change, but dwelling on it and ignoring all the good things around us in the process doesn’t help anyone.”
On the eve of the album’s March 6 release, Taylor spoke with BGS about motherhood, outsider perceptions of Appalachia, black sheep, and more.
Leading up to Land Of The Forgotten’s release you mentioned achieving a sound with this project that you’ve been trying to attain since first moving to Nashville in 2007. What was it you captured and how were you able to do it?
Brit Taylor: Just that bluegrass influence on country, particularly the late ‘80s sound of The Judds, Ricky Skaggs, and Patty Loveless. When I go back and listen to those things I noticed they’re all very acoustic driven. At some point all of that became really unpopular – fiddle, steel, and mandolin all went out of style for a while. We had a lot of fiddle on the last record, but [we’re] incorporating those instruments more than ever before on this album, which gave it a very “back to my roots” feel.
Everything, down to how this record is mixed, turned out just the way I wanted it to. A lot of it’s because Adam grew up [just over an hour away] in Louisa, [Kentucky] – so we listened to the same radio stations and the same types of Appalachian country music. Us understanding each other so well musically is what made this all click.
I know that most of the album wasn’t written with bluegrass in mind, but I find it interesting that you say this album is more bluegrass-y than Kentucky Bluegrassed. Are there any key differences between the two?
Even those bluegrassed versions weren’t “actual” bluegrass songs, because they still had drums on them. We made that record to showcase bluegrass versions of those country songs. We weren’t really shooting for a country record with that one, but the goal with Land Of The Forgotten has very much been to make a country record, but one that’s heavily influenced by bluegrass instrumentation similar to anything from Patty Loveless to Lee Ann Womack when she sings “Does My Ring Burn Your Finger.” On those songs you could strip the drums out and they would feel right at home as bluegrass songs even though they all come from country-leaning records.
You just touched on Patty Loveless (Emory Gordy) and Lee Ann Womack (Frank Liddell), both of whom recorded frequently with their husbands as producers as well. Tell me about that connection, both with them and your husband Adam, and how each informed the project?
It started out with me just making a giant playlist of songs I love that were all over the map with no goal in mind. But as I started listening to it I began noticing a lot of similarities between the songs on it, whether they were from Willie Nelson, Ricky Skaggs, Dwight [Yoakam], Patty [Loveless], or Lee Ann Womack. Then I noticed that a lot of them were produced by Emory Gordy or Frank Liddell, whether it was Lee Ann Womack or the Pistol Annies.
From there, I went to Adam and told him, “These are the things that I love – I need you to be my Frank and Emory.” [Laughs] They’re two of my favorites, and just so happened to have worked with their wives, so it made so much sense for me to do the same. Adam knows me better than anybody else and hears me sing in a billion different places. He just knows me, just like [Emory and Frank] knew their wives and knew what they wanted and how to get it as well as pushing and encouraging them at the same time.
Another family tie to this record is that it’s released only a few months after the birth of your first child, Beulah. What was it like bringing this project to market while also going through that experience?
We cut the record last January, and at that point I was not pregnant yet. We’d been talking about wanting a kid for a really long time, and this record came out exactly the way I wanted it to. When we found out about the pregnancy I was like, “I need to be as fearless about the personal decisions in my life as I am about music, and stop letting the stigmas about what the industry thinks of women with kids dictate the way that I live my life.” Or else I’m going to run out of time to get the things done that I want. So we just decided to take a leap of faith and it’s all worked out, as it often does when you trust the universe, that it has your back, and that everything’s going to be okay.
It was so much fun starting out the year cutting that record and then going on tour with the Nitty Gritty Dirt Band and Adam was with me. It was while in St. Augustine, Florida, doing that when we found out we were pregnant. I started back with them on another leg of the tour in July and showed up with a big belly, and it was so fun! I did that entire tour with no shoes. Jeff Hanna was always cracking up because I was just barefoot and pregnant on tour. [Laughs] It’s been really empowering to know that you can have it all, you just have to be brave and stop listening to the limitations that other people would like to put on you all the time.
Of all your albums so far, Land Of The Forgotten has some of my favorite wordplay. A prime example is “Warning You Whiskey,” a drinking song disguised as a ballad about an unfaithful lover. How did the idea for that one come about?
I love when songs have a twist or they’re not quite what you think they are. I also love a good story, so when my husband and I sat down with Adam Wright and he started telling us about this idea for a song called “Warning You Whiskey,” that sounds like you’re talking about a woman at first. I loved it from the beginning. We worked out the music and got that first verse and chorus written so fast that it wrote itself.
When we got to the second verse, I remember sitting there looking at both of them saying, “Man, I really want to kick this whiskey bottle’s butt!” [Laughs] Then my husband blurted out, “I’ll grip my hand around your long, skinny neck” and I just lost it. I jumped out of my chair because I was laughing so hard. Then Adam Wright popped out a line, I did the next, and within five minutes we had the entire thing written.
It reminded me so much of something Loretta Lynn would write and makes me think of women in my family that I’ve observed growing up. My mamaw really fought hard in the beginning of her relationship with my papaw, with him drinking, and she stuck by his side. Sometimes all he needed was a butt whoopin’. She’d just stand by his side and helped him through everything.
In the past you also haven’t hesitated to write a catchy song about getting through the daily grind, like “Rich Little Girls.” This album has two: “Lately I’ve Been Thinkin’” and “Around and Around.” Is there anything beyond that ties the ones on this record together?
“Around and Around” is just about life in general. It’s funny because everybody expected us to tie a really pretty bow on it in the bridge, but we just didn’t, because sometimes that’s how life is – we just keep spinning and spinning. Sometimes we figure out how to get out of the rat race and sometimes we don’t. The song is an observation of this girl who is finally becoming self-aware enough of her circumstances to stand outside of them and decide if she wants to change them or not.
As for “Lately I’ve Been Thinkin’,” it’s definitely inspired by the music industry. We were actually writing a different song that’s going to be on Adam’s record, but in the middle of writing [we] began talking about one of the award shows taking place that week, how much we hated it and all of the butt-kissing that goes on at them. Then [my husband] said, “Lately I’ve been thinking, I don’t like much stuff” and Adam Wright started cracking up. It was so funny because it all just started from a conversation. By the end of it, we all were like, “Well, it’s really not that bad. We get to sit here and write songs. We actually have it pretty good.”
It seems like many of the songs on Land Of The Forgotten originated from spontaneous writing moments. Is that a regular occurrence for you?
Those are my favorite songs. When the three of us write, we never sit down and think we’re gonna write a song for a specific person today. We just write what’s in the room, what’s moving us, and what we’re feeling. That usually ends up being something out of conversation and is oftentimes funny, because the three of us have the same sense of humor and [same] kind of outlook on life. I know a lot of people can get a bad taste in their mouth about co-writing and how like “white-coat” it can be, but when you find your tribe and you find your people, it’s awesome. It’s so much fun.
Earlier you discussed how distinctly Appalachian this record is. In my opinion, one of the best embodiments of that is the title track, “Land Of The Forgotten.” Was there a specific moment or place that inspired it?
I don’t remember if I wrote the song around when the floods happened, but I remember writing the hook down when all the floods happened back in my native Knott County in 2022. I feel like that’s the only time that we’re remembered, when tragedy strikes, and then we’re just kind of forgotten again until somebody can make fun of us. A lot of people have negative perceptions of what they think Eastern Kentucky or what hillbilly is, but it’s nothing like what people think. It’s about resilience, and strength, and honor, and family, and beauty, and folklore. Appalachia is so beautiful and so misunderstood.
I’ll spend the rest of my life trying to write a song as good as Darrell Scott’s “You’ll Never Leave Harlan Alive.” I don’t know if I did that with this song by any means, but that’s always the goal when trying to write about home. I think that’s probably why I’ve never had a song about Appalachia. I’ve had a song about Kentucky in general, but it was more of a love story. I’ve tried to write it a million times, but I finally did one that I’m proud of, and that’s “Land Of The Forgotten.” When we put all these songs together, it quickly became a lot of stories about blue-collar life, surviving, and just how hard it is right now in this economy. Through that, “Land Of The Forgotten” became the theme of the record without even trying.
One of the album’s more lighthearted moments comes on “Crazy Leaf,” which sees you ruminating on that one black sheep we all have in our family. How did that one come to be?
When we sat down to write that – my husband, Jeremy Bussey and I – we started talking about all the crazy people we had in our families. It was Bussey who had the idea for the title, “Crazy Leaf,” which is a combination of these characters from our families into one song. But we didn’t want to pick on anybody too hard or put too much truth in there that you hurt somebody’s feelings.
My favorite thing was when I played it for my mom, and there’s that baptism line – “He got baptized for the fifth time, because the first four didn’t work” – where my mom said, “Your mammy used to say that if the water was too cold in the creek, the baptism wouldn’t take.” [Laughs] But in all honesty, it’s probably me – I’m the crazy leaf in my family.
From “Crazy Leaf” to motherhood and bringing this album to life with your husband as producer, Land Of The Forgotten has a whole lot to do with family. That won’t change anytime soon either with you and Adam going on a co-headlining tour together this spring. What are you most excited for about that?
I could not be more excited to be able to travel with Adam and for both of us to be able to do our own sets. We both work together a lot, but we’re still two individual artists as well, which I think confuses people sometimes. People will ask, “What’s your band name?” I’ll have to say, “No, I’m Brit Taylor and this is Adam Chaffins.” Maybe we’ll do a band thing eventually.
I’m also nervous because we’ll have the baby on the road for the first time, but that’ll also be really fun too. I can’t wait to show her pictures one day. I’ll be taking her on tour with me this summer out west with Nitty Gritty Dirt Band, too. She was in my belly through all those tours last year, so it’s gonna be so fun to have her on the road this time. My goal is to one day be touring bigger venues on a bus with my entire family there so we can travel the world together – that’s the dream.
What has the process of bringing Land Of The Forgotten to life taught you about yourself?
It’s a continuation of what everything keeps teaching me, which is that I just need to trust my gut and stop second-guessing things all the time. Adam has been a huge help with that. I feel like I can be hard on myself and always assume that somebody else knows better than me because they’ve got more experience. I don’t know if the creative process works that way. I think it only works when you’re true to yourself, and that’s something that isn’t always easy for me as a people pleaser and somebody that doubts herself a lot. So just learning to stand in my own truth and stand in my power and be confident in myself.
“I don’t know when I became an activist,” MORGXN admits. “I’m just a human being who sings from the heart, but my heart is very broken by the world that we are currently living in.”
The singer-songwriter lived in Los Angeles for 10 years before moving back home to Nashville in 2022. “The minute I came back to Nashville, I ran into a guy once. He was like, ‘I only see you at the Capitol singing,’” he recalls. “When I moved back, they were trying to ban drag queens. They were trying to ban women’s access to health care.”
Most recently, he took to the Tennessee State Capitol to protest bills against same-sex marriage. “This is how rights get tested: one state, one bill, one ‘exception,’ and suddenly the floor moves under all of us,” he wrote on Instagram.
“I don’t even think about it as activism. I think about it as humanity. We are more alike as human beings than the media, the news, and politicians would want you to believe,” he explains. “It breaks my heart. If you have listened to this album, there are songs about love and the human experience. The album is for anybody bold enough to live as who they are in the middle of the heartland.
“That is what I hope people get from this album. I hope they feel less alone in their activism… I wouldn’t even use the word activism. I hope they feel less alone in their humanity, period.”
On March 6, MORGXN released a deluxe edition of his album, HEARTLAND, and while it pulls from country music, he wouldn’t exactly label it as such. “I don’t care what genre you tell me it is. I care that I’m speaking something that is true to me, and that’s how I make music,” he says. “I don’t make music outside in.
“I make music inside out. I find what’s inside, and I try to bring it outside,” he continues. “And the heartland is a place that is normally not reserved for people like me and you. And yet, living in the heartland, I see that everyone belongs in the heartland. The heartland is a space for everybody, and I want to reclaim the heartland for everybody.”
Good Country hopped on a Zoom call with MORGXN a week before the album’s release and chatted about collaborations with Tenille Townes and Maggie Rose, the meaning of community, the political divide in country, and the hardest lessons he’s learned since coming out as gay at 19 years old.
What are some of your favorite lyrics on the album?
MORGXN: “GOD CODED” is maybe the most important song I’ve ever written, whether or not most people hear the song – it’s not a radio song. But it is probably the most important song I’ve ever ushered into being. I have no problem with god or religion. I have a huge problem when people use god and religion as a weapon of their hate.
“WILLOW” I wrote for my friend’s daughter who has cerebral palsy, so that she knows that she is a bright light. Already that song has inspired other people, which really means that she has inspired other people. It’s hard for me to choose… “MIGRATION” is about losing my dog. I don’t have a favorite lyric – it’s like choosing a child. [Laughs]
Okay, here’s my funniest favorite line, “EVERGREENS.” The first line: “Tell me your sign/ And I’ll tell you mine/ And I’ll tell you if we’ll be okay.” I think that’s funny, because if I’m dating somebody, I will be like, “What is your sign?” And I’m going to decide right away if we’re even going to be compatible, which is maybe absolutely chaotic, but I love it.
With the deluxe edition of HEARTLAND you have several collaborators, including Tenille Townes, Ruby Amanfu, and Maggie Rose. How did you choose who you wanted, and what did they bring to the table?
Collaboration is like water to me. You know, I have many liquids here on my table. I am a gay man, so I have tons of liquid everywhere around – iced coffee is always a yes. Collaboration is also like breathing to me. When I think about making music, “the bible” to me is Willie Nelson and “On the Road Again.” The life I love is making music with my friends, and I can’t wait to get on the road again. That is how I think about music.
When I moved to Nashville, there were voices that I saw popping up that were saying really important things, like [Tenille Townes’] “Jersey on the Wall.” They were saying messages that really resonated with me inside of a space that is still not reserved for people like me.
I came here in 2022, which was 11 years after this manager told me I would never make it in music as an openly gay person. In Nashville, there was a thing bubbling up, but it was like you were reserved for this sideshow experience. You can be gay, but only during June, only when there’s a tent for you to stand under. That’s not how I believe in love or life or humanity. I reached out to several people wanting to create. Truth be told, I have people in my DMs who are massive artists, who love what I’m doing, but who can’t align with who I am because it will hurt their fan base. That’s insane. That’s 2026 for you.
But artists like Tenille Townes, Maggie Rose, Ruby Amanfu, Katie Pruitt – who’s obviously a queer beacon – and Langhorne Slim, they were people who were brave enough to collaborate outside of what is the norm for them. I’m really honored that they’re helping me create this version of the heartland where everyone gets to live.
With Tenille, “HEAVEN KNOWS” was the first song we ever wrote together. It was actually the day we met. The song has this sort of inner child: Why do we even keep trying in a world that feels so hard? Why do you love when your heart has been broken so many times? Why do you keep making music when it feels like the music industry is as crazy as ever? And why do you keep being a good person in a world that is hell-bent on trying to make you feel like you are an abomination? I try because I care. I love so deeply, you know.
Having grown up in Nashville, what did community mean to you then, before you came out at 19?
The one thing I’ll say about being queer in America – maybe anywhere in the world – is you’re forced to create community, and sometimes family, when that is not a given for you. I was very lucky that my family was… more confused and scared than they were not accepting. But my husband’s journey with his community – he grew up evangelical and his community kicked him out. He was going to be a pastor, going to seminary, and once he came out, he was kicked out of the church. I didn’t have that experience … but family to me widened the moment I came out. The idea that family was not just the people you were born into, but it is the people and friends and lovers who you collect along the way that were missing for me as a kid. Growing up here, I had a hard time fitting in, because everything I did stood out.
I played the Bluebird [Cafe] last night with Molly Tuttle, Maggie Rose, Liz Longley, and Ketch [Secor] from Old Crow Medicine Show. I’m sitting there singing “MY REVIVAL” – and I’ll cry thinking about this, but it’s like I’m sitting there singing [that song]. My husband is over here and the whole room is singing along with me. I have painted nails, singing my song at the Bluebird with legends. I’m the co-chair of the diversity committee for the Recording Academy in the Nashville chapter. I don’t know if I’ve “made it,” because I don’t think making it is even like the goal here. I want a career and a life, not a moment in time. That’s “making it” to me. For the closeted gay boy who was scared to ever reveal who he truly is, that’s my revival. There’s retribution. There’s deep healing, and there’s tons of gratitude, as well.
The divide in country music right now between people who are willing to sacrifice a fan base and those who aren’t is always widening. It’s cool to see who has come forward to make their voices heard.
Country music is three chords and the truth. That’s still the bible, but it has lost its way. There is a real ricochet happening where people are afraid to be truthful, because truth can sear and truth can be very quiet but very powerful. Nashville is at a breaking point. It’s a small town. We are growing by leaps and bounds. There’s a real deciding line between: do we make this a city for everybody or do we make this a city for the select few? That’s the same for country music, folk, Americana, and gospel.
“HEARTLAND,” the song, definitely pulls on gospel, folk, Americana, and pop, for sure, but it also pulls on country because it’s a story. I thought I’d see my name in lights. I thought that my life would be this flashy thing. It’s not. I fell in love with a man, and we have a farm, and we’re building a life together. That’s love to me. It’s a story. It’s my story. It’s real. So, it’s country; it’s folk; it’s Americana; it’s gospel. Now, will any of those genres accept me? I have no idea.
But the people on my album have accepted me for who I am and love me for who I am. And that, I think, is what the heartland is all about. You know, love thy neighbor. What happened to that?
You turn 39 this year, which happens to be 20 years since you came out. Was there any significance in releasing HEARTLAND (Deluxe Version) this year?
It’s funny. Titles of an album are like mystery buckets. I actually have a title for my next album and I’m so excited about it. Prince once said that he’s like two albums ahead of whatever’s commercially released. And I love that for him. I’m one album ahead of what is commercially released. Album titles visit me like a fever dream. Even HEARTLAND – the song, I gotta call out Josh Dorr, the co-writer on that song, who had a number one with Blake Shelton this year with “Texas.” He’s a legitimate country songwriter. Not even legitimate country songwriters would take a session with somebody like me and it takes guts to do that.
I haven’t thought about how it’s 20 years since I came out, but it makes a lot of sense. I have a song called “home.” When people were like, “Where is home?” I would be like, “Well, anywhere but Nashville, Tennessee, because that place would never accept a person like me.” Now, to be making a life here, building a farm, hosting Pride on our farm, there is something beautiful in that. It may have taken 20 years, but I’m home. It’s beautiful. I hadn’t really thought about time like that.
When we wrote “HEARTLAND,” I wrote it on the piano that I grew up on. There’s always ghosts in the bones of old instruments, but it’s safe where my heart lands. It’s the heartland, but it’s also where my heart gets to land safely. That’s the kind of love and belonging I wish for everybody. I’m not somebody who believes that you have to be in a relationship to be happy, or that you have to be married to be happy. That’s bullshit. That’s heteronormative, capitalist nonsense. You can find belonging amongst community, friends, and lovers. Does your heart have a place to hang its hat? That’s home.
What have been the hardest lessons you’ve learned over two decades?
The thing that comes up in my head is: it’s not over ‘til the fat lady sings. I’ve been a fat lady so… [Laughs] It will fall apart, and that’s okay. The true story is what happens when you pick yourself back up and keep going.
I’m far less interested in talking to somebody who’s never moved across the country once. I can’t really relate to you. If you’ve never sold all your belongings and moved somewhere at least twice, we might not have a lot of similar things to relate to. It doesn’t have to be grand moves. My husband has lived in a bunch of places in Nashville, has not left Nashville, but he’s lived a lot of life. You have to have lost everything once, probably twice, and hopefully that’s it. But it’s really about how you pick yourself back up at the bottom, and keep trying again.
Whether you think it’s good or not, it won’t last, and that’s okay. There’s beauty and grace in that. I have a friend, Kristen Griffith[-VanderYacht], who’s a [floral designer] – I think he’s now in Detroit – and he’s gone through a lot. He was on the Drew Barrymore Show, and the guest host was asking, “How do you keep flowers alive for longer?” Kristen grabbed his hand and he was like, “Here’s the thing, lean in close, I want you to hear this: they’re not meant to last. They’re meant to be beautiful for the moment that they’re there, and you’re meant to appreciate them in all their glory, and then you’re meant to let it go.”
That is really hard. That is maybe [informing] some of the themes about my next album, actually. It’s loving and letting go. Life is not linear. It’s not meant to be. Cherish all of the beauty, because nothing lasts forever. And there’s a ton of freedom in that sentence.
Lots of people are taking a shine to Boy Golden lately. Radio stations in Canada sent his populist pop single, “Suffer,” to the top of the modern rock chart. He produced William Prince’s 2025 album, Further from the Country, which recently received a Juno nomination in the Contemporary Roots Album category. And he’s among the new additions to the esteemed Telluride Bluegrass Festival lineup in June.
Offstage, Boy Golden is Winnipeg-based musician Liam Duncan. (His mother’s maiden name is Goulden, so he conjured the stage name Boy Golden.) In addition to jumping across genres, he’s also crossing the Canadian/American border this spring, with dozens of U.S. tour dates to promote his new album, The Best of Our Possible Lives. Duncan recorded the project in Los Angeles with fellow Winnipeg guitarist Austin Parachoniak, producer Robbie Lackritz, and cream of the crop LA studio players.
Duncan called in to Good Country to talk about making the new record, though the conversation also gravitated toward his abiding love for bluegrass music.
“Suffer” has been a big hit for you in Canada. What do you remember about trying to get “Suffer” to sound the way you wanted it to sound? Was it hard to come up with that song?
Boy Golden: No, that was a quick one. I sat down and wrote it all in one chunk. I remember it taking about an hour, maybe. But then I did make several demos of it, and throughout that process, I did edit it a fair bit and experimented with different lyrics and arrangements. By the time I got to the studio, I was really confident in the foundation, the bare bones of it. I could trust the musicians there, and they nailed it.
On that song, Pino Palladino plays the bass, which is really cool because he’s a legend, and then Abe Rounds is on the drum kit and he’s a really great drummer and musician. We had a few drummers we were thinking about asking, but I listened to Abe’s solo album – which is called The Freedom to Make Mistakes – and his percussive sensibilities on percussion instruments, beyond just the drum kit, were so spot on. It made it an easy decision, because I really wanted a lot of percussion on this album.
Why is that?
A lot of records that I love have a lot of percussion, first off. I was listening to a lot of Ry Cooder. I was listening to a lot of Paul Simon. The percussion on those records is fantastic. But also I was thinking about the first record I made as Boy Golden and I really went overboard with the percussion on that album. I hadn’t listened to it in years, I was in a store in Portland, and the guy running the store put on my song while I was in there. I was like, “Oh gosh, this is really great!” [Laughs]
I went back and listened to the record and I was like, “I should do that again,” because the records that I made between that first one and this one were way more stripped back. I made both of them on different types of 8-track tape machines so there’s just not as much room to go crazy with it. And I knew I was gonna have the freedom to do anything on this record.
The album before this one [For Eden] had a lot of banjo. Are you still grabbing the banjo from time to time?
Oh, yeah. I made a demo yesterday that has a bunch of banjo on it. And I spent the Christmas holidays just shedding some old-time, which is a really fun thing to do and does not bother my family much!
When did you pick up the banjo originally?
When did I pick up the banjo… 2020? 2019? Somewhere in there. It wasn’t, like, always a thing, but I’ve always loved bluegrass, and I’ve always listened to a fair bit of bluegrass, but I was just in a big phase. And I think part of it was, I was like, “I am never going to be a good enough guitar player to really play bluegrass, so maybe I should try a different instrument.”
You included “The Year Clayton Delaney Died” on that first record. Is Tom T. Hall somebody that you gravitated toward?
Yeah, particularly his bluegrass record, The Magnificent Music Machine. It’s such a good album! Something I love about that album is, a lot of bluegrass is pretty dry, and that record is not. It just sounds like a bunch of people playing in a big room, like maybe a church or something. I don’t know how it was recorded, but I love the energy on that record.
What are some of your other favorite bluegrass records?
My favorite bluegrass records are the Bluegrass Album Band’s Volumes I through III. [Laughs] They’re my favorite. I love a lot of what’s going on in the old-time scene right now, like Nora Brown and Stephanie Coleman. And I love playing music acoustically with friends. I love sharing songs that way. I grew up going to the Winnipeg Folk Festival, and that was where I was first exposed to bluegrass, and it has been a lifelong love. And I feel like it does make its way into my music, even though I write kind of pop songs or something. I like to produce in all sorts of different ways, but on each song on this album, I tried to have at least one element that felt distinctly rooted in roots, whether that was a guitar part or a banjo part or a pedal steel or whatever. I just tried to always have some sort of grounding in the roots.
Reading up on you, I found that you were a Gillian Welch fan.
Yeah, I saw Gillian and Dave for the first time this [past] year at Winnipeg Folk Fest. It was very emotional for me. I cried a lot because I had a friend pass away right before we made this record. We had made a record together, me and this friend, and one of the songs was called “I Dream an Ocean,” which was inspired by “I Dream a Highway.” We would just bond over those records so much. … I could cry right now thinking about listening to Gillian and Dave when he was here. It was super affecting and really gorgeous.
I’ve enjoyed the videos that you put out so far and I think visuals must be really important to you. Can you talk about the concept of the video for “Cowboy Dreams”?
Yeah. I had a couple pretty specific visual references. One of them was the Brazilian tune “Águas De Março,” which has a great video you can find of Elis Regina and Antônio Jovian duetting that song together on an old stereo capsule mic. You can put [that mic] off-axis and then you can both sing into it. Anyways, it’s just a really beautiful video, and I love watching it because they have such chemistry. Me and my friend Cat [Clyde] have a great creative chemistry as well. We wrote that song together and made the demo together. So, I thought we could basically steal that concept and make it a little more cinematic by putting a 360-degree dolly camera around it. I love that shot.
The other one was a killer Sade video that’s all in black and white, and she’s galloping on a horse bareback, which is beyond my skill level, and it’s just so cool. Cat’s a really good rider. I was not a great rider. I’m still not a great rider, but I took a bunch of riding lessons leading up to that video shoot and got myself to the point where I could gallop comfortably. The ranch where we shot the horse stuff is run by some friends of mine, and they gave me, like, a Cadillac of a horse, so it was super easy.
You’re riding a horse in that video and you’re in Lake Winnipeg on your album cover. I’m assuming you’re pretty outdoorsy. Do you like the great outdoors?
I do, yeah. Yes sir. There are references to the natural world in my writing a fair bit.
Say you’ve got a free afternoon, what would you do?
Well, right now in the winter, I go cross country skiing. I go a couple times a week, usually. And I love cross country skiing, because it’s very meditative once you get into the flow and if the conditions are good – kick, glide, kick, glide. … And you can get into the woods with it, which is what I like about it. I mean, you can’t downhill ski where I live, because it’s just flat, but on cross country, you don’t need a lift pass. You don’t have to pay any money, usually. Maybe a trail fee of like $5 but once you get going, you can get onto this trail and you’re in the woods in the middle of winter. It’s a pretty special experience, not something everyone gets to enjoy, or even maybe realizes is as wonderful as it is. You know, to be out in the woods in the middle of winter, it’s sweet. And in the summer, I like to hike. I like to backpack.
That reminds me of the song “Blue Hills” from one of your past records. That one seems more of a country-leaning song to me. What inspired you to write that song?
I was thinking about being in high school actually. The town I grew up in is called Brandon and Brandon famously has hills [laughs] in Manitoba and they’re called the Blue Hills of Brandon, ostensibly because from a distance, they kind of look blue, I guess. And I was under the impression when I wrote that song that I had a great aunt or some ancestor who had written an old song called “The Blue Hills of Brandon.” I found out later from my dad that I must have made that up, because I don’t! That person who wrote that song is not my ancestor.
But either way, at the time, I thought she was, so I was like, “I’m gonna write my own version,” which I thought would be really special. I was thinking about high school, I was thinking about my late grandma and grandpa. Thinking about how those really early memories of love are so tangible, no matter how old you get. That’s why I say, “It’s the only thing I know to be true.” It’s like, that early love just was true.
When did the spark start for you as a songwriter?
I always wanted to write songs, but I was really blocked until I was about 21 or 22. And then I had a relationship end. It’s a common story, and I think I was so heartbroken that I didn’t really care if I wrote anything bad. And then it was like a spiritual revelation for me.
Had you been on stage a lot before that moment?
Yeah, I toured with my high school band all over. We played over 600 shows together. I’ve been in some sort of band with friends since I was like 14, so it’s been a lifelong thing. But I kind of thought I would just be a producer. To be honest, I never really thought I’d end up doing this.
When did you turn the corner? When did you decide, “All right, let’s make it happen”?
I guess when I had enough songs. And then I made a record that came out under my own name, which you can’t really find anymore. And then I came up with the Boy Golden character and idea and had a bunch of songs that I felt like were in the Boy Golden world. And ever since it’s been an obsession.
Photo Credit: Best of Our Possible Lives album cover
It’s common these days to wring hands over the many ways powerful tech companies have meddled, without permission, in how we discover and listen to music (among other things). It’s just as common to fearfully declare that music’s good old days are past and gone. But after 20 years as a working band, we know that the strength of community through music is much more enduring; and we see it all the time.
There is no greater force than a group of people who are ready to share a joyful experience. It doesn’t matter if they’re gathering to jam, attend a concert, or anything else. People in community can create strong connections in a heartbeat, under almost any circumstances, and music is a powerful vehicle for it. Some days it feels harder than others to find that spark, but it’s always there if we come together and dig for it. Every day the pressure grows to strip the things we all have made and love for parts, but collectively we can raise our voices and push back. As a band, we’re choosing to resist that force and to keep building things. Together.
This playlist features artists that we feel musical and professional kinship with, bands that have been around and are well into their careers. The songs we chose come from albums that are worth spending time with over and over again. These folks have played lots and lots of gigs and revel in the energy of a great show as much as we do. You’ll also find some music from our 9th studio album, The Steel Wheels, too. Music that we made together in a room. – The Steel Wheels
“Easy” – The Steel Wheels
A breezy song with a swirling fiddle intro and a big question at its heart. We live in the future now, with the entire world available to us on the other side of our screens. So why are we lonelier than ever? If everything is supposed to be easy, why does it all feel so hard?
“Talk Is Cheap” – Dr. Dog
Because they inspired me with one incredible Bristol Rhythm & Roots Reunion set probably 15 years ago. Their old amps, their confident trailblazing of their sound that was clearly referential and respectful – but not chasing what a lot of other bands were chasing.
“Los Angeles” – Big Thief
An artist’s job is to remain open and soft to the world and to distill all that pain and joy into work that transmits emotion across space and time. Somehow, Big Thief seems to only become less jaded with time, maintaining curiosity and exploration as part of their creative process.
“Go Back” – The Steel Wheels
All deep relationships come with joy and with pain. To be rid of one you would also lose the other. It’s part of lived experience, this is a reminder to embrace all of it. True connection is worth it.
“Waiting For The Sun” – The Jayhawks
The Jayhawks are a band that prove you can continue to forge your own way and make it through the highs and lows. I was still really just a kid when I discovered them through some older cats I was playing with at the time. Son Volt and Wilco were very much in the alt-country scene and the Jayhawks just had something a bit different going on.
“Worried About The Weather” – Greensky Bluegrass
I love the way this song pivots between the anxiety of pushing forward through uncertainty and the breezy delight of taking a moment to enjoy the journey. There’s momentum to both things and “Weather” has tons of it.
“Keep On Dancing” – The Steel Wheels
Let’s take a break from responsibilities to just see ourselves and each other. Don’t forget to breathe and to appreciate the unadorned peace that can fill the spaces between us.
“I And Love And You” – The Avett Brothers
Even a track like this, one full of solitary stillness, shows the Avetts’ songs are packed with other people. They always remind me that I’m not as alone as I often feel. You can sense the presence of old partners and family throughout this song even though the speaker is alone in their car.
“Valerie” – The Brothers Comatose
These guys are everybody’s friends. Maybe the acoustic Dawes? I don’t know. We’ve known them a long time and they keep bringing joy and fun with warmth and grounded songs that don’t rely too heavily on bluegrass tropes.
“Sway / Endless Highway (Pt. 2)” – Watchhouse
Watchhouse invest deep thought into every lyric and intention into every note without ever seeming to overthink their process or get held back by previous work. “Sway / Endless Highway (Pt. 2)” demonstrates how the band is constantly in conversation, transitioning between tempos and driving down into a deep groove with a breeziness that belies the technical mastery of their acoustic instruments. At a Watchhouse show, the crowd will hang on every note and every silence, sharing a reverence for the song with the band.
“Slow Rise (to the middle)” – The Wood Brothers
Oliver, Chris, and Jano seem to be propelled forward by some groove force that penetrates everything they do and they invite listeners to join in on the funky joy. Their track “Slow Rise (to the middle)” tips a hat to their musical journey. To be in an audience is to get lost in the moment, only to occasionally remind yourself how wild it is that all the sounds coming from the stage emanate from just three musicians.
“Way Down Yonder ” – Chatham County Line
I first heard Chatham County Line when I opened for them at The Livery in Benton Harbor, Michigan, with a jamgrass band I was in, probably 20 years ago. They were tight and had their act together. I was blown away by their professionalism and it made a big impact on me. I will never forget that moment and I’m still inspired by their creativity and longevity as a band.
Photo Credit: Monik Geisel
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