Tag: Ryman Auditorium

BGS 5+5: Special Consensus

Posted on by Editor

Artist: Greg Cahill of Special Consensus
Hometown: Oak Lawn, Illinois
Latest album: Chicago Barn Dance
Personal nicknames (or rejected band names): Special C

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

I actually enjoy and appreciate all the forms listed here. I have always been a history buff and read a good bit of American history books as well as books about country and bluegrass music. I also enjoyed the Carlos Castenada books of the 1970s, which actually inspired our band name, Special Consensus. I very much enjoy live theater (Hamilton was unbelievably superb) as well as seeing movies in movie theaters and I am a fan of Cirque du Soleil dance troupe. Living in Chicago provides access to fantastic museums and of course the Art Institute, where I thoroughly enjoy spending an afternoon any time.

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

My mother’s mother was a fabulous piano player who played for silent movies and gave piano lessons throughout my mother’s childhood so my mom also became a great piano player. My father’s father was a great harmonica player who would give me his old harmonicas whenever he got a new one (usually a Christmas present from my grandmother) and he began teaching me to play when I was 5 years old. My father was a great tenor singer in the church choir. By the time I was 7 or 8 I began taking accordion lessons, which I continued until I was about 15.

By senior year of high school I became interested in string instruments and went off to college with guitar and long-neck banjo (a la Pete Seeger and Dave Guard of the Kingston Trio) in hand and played in a folk group until graduation. I first actually heard bluegrass music around junior year of college and dabbled with playing 3-finger style on the banjo, went into the Army for two years after graduation and came back to Chicago after living in Georgia for a bit and seriously began to try and play the five-string (around 1970-71). I have always had music in my heart and in my bones and I still absolutely love to play the banjo!

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

I think the most important thing about playing music professionally is to decide what you really want to do and set some goals. A mission statement might be something like practice your music to hone your skills, decide what type of music you really want to play and set goals for creating musical situations for yourself (like finding other people to play with) and be willing to continually work on improving. One has to create opportunities for oneself in the world of music.

It is vital to attend concerts to hear the music you want to play, to practice a lot and to seek those opportunities to play with others. Audition for bands you would like to play with whenever there is an opening. Once you are in a band or are gigging as a solo or duo/trio artist or in any configuration, take it seriously — it is very enjoyable but it is also now your job. Most importantly, don’t give up if this is what you really want to do. There will always and forever be huge ups and downs — keep the faith, believe in yourself and keep on keepin’ on!

What’s your favorite memory from being on stage?

I would have to say it was the first time Special C ever played the Grand Ole Opry. It was in I think 2003 and the Opryland venue was under renovation so we played at the Ryman Auditorium. My bandmates at the time were Josh Williams, Jamie Clifton, and Tim Dishman. We had been together for a few years and gone through some wonderful times and some difficult times, including being in a bus wreck (fortunately, none of us were seriously injured).

Our individual and collective dream was always to play the Grand Ole Opry and that night we were truly living the dream. After being instructed backstage to play one and only one song, Jeannie Seely introduced us and we went out and played our hearts out. The audience went wild and the whole house was standing and cheering — Jeannie had no choice but to give us an encore. I will never forget that night.

Which artist has influenced you the most … and how?

There are many artists who have influenced me. My parents’ love of music was instilled in me as a young child and they appreciated the “old standards” of the day and Dixieland music — family gatherings always included everyone around the piano singing and then my sisters and I would be asked to play. I was of course influenced by the master Earl Scruggs but then I would say J.D. Crowe became my mentor, even before I ever met him, because I loved his way of creating new licks and ways of playing with the drive and clarity and beauty of Earl’s playing.

Then there are so many great banjo player influences (Munde, Keith, Trischka, Vestal, Bela, Pikelny, Shelor, Shelton, Luberecki, Brown, Kruger, Munford, Benson, etc.). Other musicians whom I admire and listen to include Jethro Burns, Benny Goodman, Louis Armstrong, Buddy Guy, Don Stiernberg and many more. I believe it is the brilliance of these players, this gestalt that has and always will continue to influence me and keep me growing.

Photo Credit: David K. Cupp

Photos: Bob Weir and Wolf Brothers Lead Tornado Relief Benefit at Ryman

Posted on by Editor

Bob Weir and Wolf Brothers turned their Nashville gig into a tornado relief concert and, yes, we are grateful for it. On Saturday night, Weir welcomed many special guests to the Ryman Auditorium stage, including Frankie Ballard, Jamey Johnson, Buddy Miller, Margo Price, and Mickey Raphael.

The primary charity partner for the event is The Middle Tennessee Emergency Response Fund of The Community Foundation. The organization collected a percentage of proceeds from ticket sales and providing a text-to-donate option for all patrons. Donate now.

All photos: Chad Crawford Photography

Old Crow Medicine Show’s Ketch Secor Learned This From ‘Country Music’ (Part 2 of 2)

Posted on by Editor

In Ken Burns’ documentary opus Country Music, a weaving path from the hollers of Appalachia to Garth Brooks’ theatrical stadium concerts was laid out for all to see. But mapping that trail has always been a complicated, cumbersome task.

The sheer number of influences at play required 16 hours of footage for Burns to tell the story – and lots of help from the artists themselves. One of those artists was Old Crow Medicine Show’s Ketch Secor, who gladly jumped in to tackle the unwieldy narrative of his favorite subject.

Secor had a two important roles to play in the series. Most obviously, he related a lifetime’s study of country’s earliest touchstones and how they combined into something uniquely American. But the outspoken frontman was also tapped in the beginning of Burns’ process as a behind-the-scenes consultant, helping guide the project’s tone and ultimately delivering one of its final and most powerful lines.

“It’s almost like [country music] needs to be exhumed, and new life breathed into it,” Secor proclaimed. “The part that is the songs of the people, the hopes and aspirations of the people — the pain and suffering of the people — that needs to remain embedded in country music. If it isn’t there, I’m out.”

Backstage at the Grand Ole Opry House on the night the series premiered, Secor explained what the project meant to a history buff like himself, and how Burns unwittingly played a role in Old Crow’s founding.

BGS: Old Crow Medicine Show’s music has always shined a light on the past. What made you interested in that to begin with?

Secor: I was always interested in history, and I really attribute that to Ken Burns – I saw The Civil War when I was 11 years old. I lived in the Shenandoah Valley, and I wondered why the kids went to Robert E. Lee High School and why we played Stonewall Jackson, why the name of the shopping mall and the subdivision and the motel was what it was — it was all the war. It was everywhere, and we took some field trips but I didn’t really understand it. I could feel this echo, though. Seeing that movie on PBS really helped me to take this tour of my own backyard and see how history was alive. I credit that to him.

Knowing how deeply you care about country music’s history, what did you think when you found out Burns was going to present it?

I thought immediately, “Thank God. Finally somebody is going to tell our story and get it right.” I don’t trust any of these people to our story [gestures to photos Opry stars dotting the dressing room walls] because they’re all right in the middle of it. Everyone here has a very, very different story, and everybody has “The True Story” — but only their truth. Country music is richer than any one truth, so it takes an outsider’s perspective because of Nashville’s tendency toward this clan-ishness, the good ol’ boys network and these sorts of forces.

I mean, we’re the genre that has told its own history ever since it started. The radio charts today are full of songs about the good old days — and they’re talking about the ‘90s. That’s the good old days now. But it doesn’t matter, whatever the good old days were, the ethos here is that times ain’t like they used to be, they used to be better. That’s what they’ve been selling from the start, but they can’t tell our history without making it a commodity. So it takes this outsider, and you can’t ask for a better outsider than America’s most beloved documentarian, because he was the outsider who told us how jazz was born and flourished, how baseball was created, the Roosevelts, the National Parks, the Brooklyn Bridge. Country music is just as important as all that.

What did they actually ask of you?

I talked about slavery and the plantation system, the penal system — because incarceration was a great cultural conversationalist. It kept people locked up in isolation, which is one of the keys to making country music so rich. How long did the Scotch-Irish people live in Appalachia before being disturbed? Well, the great disturbance comes in Bristol in 1927. The record companies came in and said “Whaddya got?” And what they had was so specific to one region that it might sound different one holler over.

Then I talked about the Opry, and then I tried to talk about more New Age-y hip-fangled things, but they didn’t use any of that [laughs]. The other way I’ve been involved is by being an advisor to the film, so I read all the early scripts for the past eight years. But it was great, they just asked me, “How would you tell the story? Where was the birth? Who was important to mention?”

This has been in the works for eight years?

Yeah, he conducted like 140 interviews, and of that maybe 50 or 60 of his interviewees have died. See, the other thing about Ken is he knows when it’s time to tell a story, and by doing the story when he did, he was able to get Little Jimmy Dickens, Merle Haggard, numerous artists who wouldn’t be here — George Jones is in this film.

Did you get surprised by anything?

Oh yeah, a trove of knowledge is in this documentary, I learned a ton. And lots of things made me cry. What I learned primarily was a real self-reflective thought of, “Oh my God, this is my life.” I think almost all of these folks on the wall are in the movie, and when they watch they’ll be crying, too, because they’ll see themselves in the Bristol Sessions. They’ll see themselves at the earliest days of the Grand Ole Opry, they’ll compare themselves to the Outlaw movement and the traditional movement of the ‘80s, the development of the star system, and contextualize their own career.

You talked about isolation. We’re in this weird moment where country is more popular than ever, but rural life is changing fast. It’s easy to connect with people all over the world. How does the film address that?

One of the things that’s great about the film is that it stops around 1996, because Ken Burns isn’t a journalist, he’s a documentarian. He’s not making a movie about today, and here’s why: Historians say you’ve gotta have a generation pass before you can tell what happened. I just think it’s gonna go a lot deeper than anybody could say right now.

Like if you told the story of why Randy Travis mattered in 1986, it would be a lot different. And also the forces that are at play in country music, they need time to gestate for us to understand what they’re saying. Who’s gonna last? Who are we going to be talking about in 25 years? Blanco Brown? Chris Stapleton? Who’s gonna have their picture on this wall in 25 years? I don’t know.

Editor’s Note: Read Part 1 of our interview with Old Crow Medicine Show’s Ketch Secor.

Photo credit: Crackerfarm

Old Crow Medicine Show: “Time to Start Doing Exactly What We Feel Like Doing” (Part 1 of 2)

Posted on by Editor

I can still remember the first time I saw Old Crow Medicine Show live. It was a sweltering summer night in Nashville around 2008 (back before the bachelorettes and Bird scooters) and they played from a massive barge moored at Riverfront Park. The thing was huge — far too big for six skinny street musicians to budge — but I swear it moved while they stomped and hollered, the Cumberland rolling by lazily behind them.

I was familiar with the band and already loved the unapologetic mix of tradition and edgy intensity, but that live show was revelatory. It gave me a new appreciation for the sense of community Old Crow was trying to forge, so it’s always surprised me that they didn’t record live albums. That has finally changed with this month’s release of Live at the Ryman.

Backstage at the Grand Ole Opry House on another hot summer night, front man Ketch Secor spoke with BGS about the project, why Old Crow is just now getting around to a live album, and what their style of music needs most right now.

BGS: Part of the idea of this album is that Old Crow has played the Ryman over 40 times. For a band that started out busking in the Northeast, how does it feel wrap your head around that?

Ketch Secor: Actually, I wish I had a real count because Lord knows I’ve played there more than 40 times. I think that’s how many times we’ve headlined, but if you add them all up I bet it’s a triple-digit number. We’ve been openers there for Dolly Parton back in 2002 for, like, a daytime show. We’ve done a lot of film and television there, all kinds of awards shows. It always felt like the place to shoot for — it’s the moon, the Ryman Auditorium, and we were always a shoot-for-the-moon kind of band because we figured “Well, we’re not supposed to be here anyway, so we might as well try and go as far with it as we can.”

You self-released one live album in 2001, and then nothing else until now. Why did it take 18 years to do another, since the live show has always been the foundation of what you guys do?

Oh, I think because we’ve always tried to put out a new studio record every couple of years, and here at the 21-year mark it’s probably time to start doing exactly what we feel like doing.

You haven’t been doing that the whole time?

Nah, not with those studio records. There’s a lot of stuff you’ve gotta do. Yeah, we always did it “our way” in the fact that we always played our own music. But just being in the music business means doing it everybody else’s way.

So you had to make a few compromises here and there?

Oh yeah, there was a lot of playing the game in ways that never seemed to pan out, but it never stopped us. That was just the way it was, and we were impressionable, so that’s what we did. We did it the way we were advised to do it.

Can you elaborate a little?

Like playing Napster. Doing shows for radio programmers in L.A. who never played us. Trying to make videos for CMT that were never in rotation, ever. …Opening up for Carrie Underwood at [Country Radio Seminar], it’s like, “What were we doing there?” Those guys, they might have liked it, but they were never gonna play it. And I don’t care if they like it, I want them to fucking play it, or I don’t want to play that show.

So now that you feel freed up to do it your way, what’s that look like?

Live at the Ryman. Here we are singing a Merle Travis song! Here we are singing our songs or selling popcorn and tickets and people brought their buck-dance shoes! I mean, we’ve set beer records at the Ryman. I’d rather sell beer at the Ryman than sell records! …I’d rather sell beer at the Ryman than digital streams! What’s the fun in that?

“Tell it to Me,” “Methamphetamine,” those are interesting songs to present because rural America has a new drug problem going on with opioids. Why is it important for you guys to sing songs like that, especially at the Ryman?

Well, “Tell It to Me” was recorded in Johnson City in 1928 I think. The band that brought that song to the studio had been an original backing band for Jimmie Rodgers… Anyway, I’m just saying this because if you like country music, you should probably know that drug songs have been part of the canon since recording studios first illuminated a red light bulb and said, “You’re on.”

I don’t think people do know that. We’re just now starting to get radio songs with pot references that people don’t flip out over.

Yeah, I mean it was blow in the ‘20s and now it’s pot in the 2010s. And then “Meth” is a really different kind of song because it’s more topical. We recorded it a long time ago but it seemed important to bring it back and revamp it, make it more intense, and Charlie Worsham plays some really great electric guitar on it. It just feels like it’s knocking on your door, like a hurricane.

Tell me about doing “Louisiana Woman, Mississippi Man” with Margo Price.

We were down in Oxford, Mississippi, doing a show with Margo. She was opening up for us down there near Ole Miss, and we were looking for a song that seemed to fit, so we tried that one. Our duo thing felt really good, and I feel like I’m a little bit in the Conway range — and she’s definitely in the Loretta range — so it worked out pretty good. We heard the playback we thought it sounded great so we wanted to put it out. I saw her at the grocery store the other day and she said she loved it.

Why did you include a song like “C.C. Rider,” which has Lee Oskar playing harmonica?

I really love his band War. We did “Lowrider” onstage at the Ryman, too, maybe that will come out on Volume 2. But what I really loved about that moment on the Ryman recording is that it has twin harps. You know the old guys don’t have their pictures up here [gestures at photos of Opry stars on the dressing room wall]. …But the story of the twin harp playing of the Crook Brothers — Herman and Louis Crook — lives a long time, because Herman and Louis lived, like, into their 90s. What they were great at was two harmonicas playing in unison.

That’s interesting. In your music you’re often looking to the past for inspiration, but what do you think is the future of string bean …. er, string band music, Americana?

You just answered it, man. We need a new Stringbean. Nobody’s acting like that and that’s what’s missing. Who’s gonna be the clown? What happened to the kind of entertainment that’s self-effacing? Everybody on this wall loves the clowns, but none of them are. They’re “the vocalists” and we’re supposed to take them seriously. I’d love to see this genre — whether it’s country or Americana or whatever — just not take itself so damn seriously. Let’s just have a grand ole time. Let’s poke some fun at each other, and especially at ourselves. I’d love to see that.

Editor’s Note: Read part 2 of our interview with Old Crow Medicine Show’s Ketch Secor.

Illustration: Zachary Johnson

WATCH: The Wild Feathers Sing Alone at the Ryman

Posted on by Editor

Celebrated for its acoustics, the mother church of country music hosts this special performance by the Wild Feathers. This Nashville band blurs the lines between country and rock, while never forgetting to pay respect to the roots of American folk music. Watch as the Wild Feathers deliver a moving performance of “Lonely is a Lifetime” huddled around one microphone in an empty Ryman Auditorium.

Photo credit: Alysse Gafkjen

Artist of the Month: Old Crow Medicine Show

Posted on by Editor

From their earliest days of busking and playing to capacity crowds at the Station Inn, Old Crow Medicine Show has shown they know how to pull in a crowd. Now they’ve captured that raucous, captivating energy in their newest release, Live From the Ryman, recorded during the group’s numerous headlining performances at the landmark Nashville venue.

The band has seen its share of setbacks and lineup changes over the years, but their catalog is surprisingly limber. In other words, the songs from Eutaw and O.C.M.S. blend seamlessly with tracks from newer releases like Remedy and Volunteer.

It’s a testament to the vision of band founder Ketch Secor, who tells BGS, “If they had tried to stop us a long time ago, they probably would have been able to, but they never tried. We were never curtailed. We were asked to be quiet and to clean up, but nobody ever said ‘no’ enough times for us to pay attention.”

Look for a two-part interview with Old Crow Medicine Show coming up on BGS this month, and enjoy our Essentials playlist.

Photo credit: Crackerfarm; (L-R): Charlie Worsham, Cory Younts, Critter Fuqua, Ketch Secor, Joe Andrews, Morgan Jahnig

Artist of the Month: Vince Gill

Posted on by Editor

Who doesn’t love Vince Gill? His pristine tenor fits beautifully into bluegrass, country, Western Swing, and even classic rock, as he tours as a member of the Eagles. Still, the good-natured Opry star tells BGS that bluegrass remains close to his heart.

“You get the right band, the right drive and the right thing — I tell people it rocks as hard as the Rolling Stones. When it’s right — it’s really, really right — it’s like a freight train coming at you,” he observed during a visit in his Nashville home, just a few days after his annual summer appearance at Bluegrass Nights at the Ryman.

He continues, “It’s awesome — even in the middle of it. I don’t know that it translates far away like it does in a circle of it. We practiced over here the other night, and just being in this room and being this close to everybody was so much fun.”

Gill’s childhood memories shape a large part of Okie, his exquisite new album — an acoustic-oriented project that puts his voice and songwriting at the forefront. Look for our two-part interview this month with this member of the Country Music Hall of Fame, and in the meantime, enjoy our Essentials playlist.

Photo credit: John Shearer

A Minute in Nashville with Chuck Mead

Posted on by Shelby Williamson

“I have a lot of people ask me, ‘Where do I go when I come to Nashville?’ and my answer is always, ‘Well, what are you into? Music? Food? Underground sex scene?’ I don’t know much about that last one there, but there sure is a lot to do in Nashville these days. Top-notch dining, a bunch of clubs and bars, and spectacular musicians of all types.” – Chuck Mead

https://www.instagram.com/p/ByyyGAIpkoN/?utm_source=ig_web_copy_link

Lower Broadway
You have to see Lower Broadway at least once during your visit. This is where honky tonks line both sides of the street and the people and music spill out onto the sidewalks. Robert’s Western World is the must-stop on the street. It’s my old stomping grounds where my old band BR5-49 got our start. Traditional honky tonk played the way it’s supposed to be — with heart. Layla’s next door is an excellent place to be as well.

https://www.instagram.com/p/By0V1Fuga-d/?utm_source=ig_web_copy_link

Ryman Auditorium
These honky tonks are all in the shadow of the Mother Church of Country Music, the Ryman Auditorium — another must-see downtown. And while you’re in that neck of the woods, see The Country Music Hall of Fame and Museum, where you can follow the progression of country music from the beginning right up to today’s stars.

https://www.instagram.com/p/Bxfqe7Njrxm/?utm_source=ig_web_copy_link

Honky Tonk Tuesday at American Legion Post 82
If you’re around on a Tuesday night, go to the American Legion Post 82. Just driving into the parking lot takes you to another world. Make your donation at the door (unless you’re a veteran), grab a nice cold, cheap beer, go dance your ass off to some really fantastic old school country music, and don’t forget to tip the band!

https://www.instagram.com/p/BxGDgXKHDJa/?utm_source=ig_web_copy_link

The Grand Ole Opry
It pretty much goes without saying that if you come to Nashville, a visit to the Grand Ole Opry should be on the itinerary. It’s the show that made country music.

https://www.instagram.com/p/Bmy9wCfgmhe/?utm_source=ig_web_copy_link
Third Man Records
But it’s not all hillbilly music – there’s Jack White’s Third Man Records for a killer record store experience and it’s always great to go see Thee Rock n Roll Residency at the Mercy Lounge whenever they’re in town.

https://www.instagram.com/p/BrnQWU5AT6y/?utm_source=ig_web_copy_link
Bolton’s Spicy Chicken & Fish
Nashville is pretty famous, food-wise, for its hot chicken. There are a few ways to go — Prince’s is the original and is great of course (if you order the hot – you have a stronger constitution than me.) But my favorite hot chicken in town is Bolton’s. I suggest a taste test!

https://www.instagram.com/p/BybYlmwhmn0/?utm_source=ig_web_copy_link
Margot Cafe
If you’re looking for a world-class dining experience, may I suggest Margot Cafe in Five Points in East Nashville. Margot serves up fancy French-type food combined with down-home Southern heart; fresh, local cuisine with a menu that changes all the time, and a terrific bar as well.

https://www.instagram.com/p/Bxsio3xDn7V/?utm_source=ig_web_copy_link
Mas Tacos
Also on the Eastside is Mas Tacos. This is my go-to place for times when I say to myself, “Man, I sure could use some more tacos.” Great food. Great vibe. Groovy courtyard.

https://www.instagram.com/p/Byq_mFsAwYK/?utm_source=ig_web_copy_link

Here are other places I recommend: Grimey’s Record Store (made by record people for record people); The Basement and The Basement East – always a variety of different kinds of great live music both places; Germantown Cafe, fresh and modern American cuisine; First Tennessee Park, right across the street, where you can take in a Nashville Sounds baseball game (if it’s in season, of course); and many others you can look up on your phone yourself. Check out the music listings and see if I’m playing anywhere. If you see me, say “Hey!”

Photo credit: Joshua Black Wilkins

Reading the Room: A Conversation With Trampled by Turtles

Posted on by Editor

Trampled by Turtles are living up to the title of their newest album, Life Is Good on the Open Road. The Minnesota-based band parked the bus for nearly 18 months after touring behind their prior album, 2014’s Wild Animals. Leading up to the new project the six-piece group gathered at a lakeside cabin and rekindled their connection forged over more than a decade of performing together. Those positive vibes carried over to the new album, which emphasizes their exceptional acoustic chops. On the afternoon of their Ryman Auditorium show in Nashville, frontman Dave Simonett and mandolin player Erik Berry visited backstage with the Bluegrass Situation.

I know you cut this new album live-to-tape, but I was still surprised to see it took just six days to record it.

Simonett: We were surprised too. We had two weeks booked in a studio, which I think for a lot of people might be fast as well. For us that’s plenty of time, usually. But we ended up mixing the whole thing while we were there too.

Berry: Yeah, there was a dinnertime meeting where it was like, “Gentleman, I think we’re done. We got one more song to record tomorrow.” “Really?”

Other than just the general efficiency, what’s the upside to that?

Simonett: I enjoy lots of parts about live recording. I like to do it quite a bit. When I produce other people, I try to get bands to do it as well. It’s always spoken about in a vague way because I think it’s really hard to describe. But you do capture some kind of energy, a vibe. People play differently, if you want to get practical about it, when they’re all playing with each other, rather than playing to something that’s already been recorded.

The rhythm is one. You’re not following anything, you’re all just kind of moving in the same direction at the same time and it’s elastic. Nowadays it might be considered risky because it’s so easy to make things perfect now. But I’ve never felt like that really benefits that many people anyway. But especially us who have been playing together for a while. When we all sit and play and look at each other and play with each other, it sounds different than if we don’t, I guess.

Berry: To add to it, we hadn’t played together for about a year, outside of the weekend retreat we did. To build on what Dave’s saying, when people are playing together live, there’s also something different when something’s happening for the first, second, third, or fourth time, than when you’re playing that tune for the 50th time. Stuff grows on it; they move together differently.

Simonett: Yeah, I’ve always loved trying to capture a song before people start to really think about what they’re doing. Before people come up with parts to play. Before it gets dissected too much. It’s cool to see what happens naturally. I’m burnt out after a fifth take. That’s as far as I want to go.

Dave, how do you introduce your new songs to the band? From what I understand, you had songs already in your back pocket when you got together to record. How do you show the band, “Here’s some songs I’ve written”?

Simonett: That’s about as simple as that. Sit down and…

Berry: I use the phrase “coffee house ready.” Dave’s got them to a point where you could go to a coffee house and play the song.

Simonett: Yeah, I can play them. Core structure, melody, lyrics are pretty much done. And then I just sit there and play it a few times, and people join in when they feel like they have the hang of it, and it’s pretty organic.

That seems cooler than recording a little demo and emailing it to everybody.

Simonett: Yeah. I do that too, just so people can get the vibe, or at least know what’s coming – maybe if I have the song done in time to do that kind of thing. That is a nice thing to be able to have. I don’t think the real learning of it happens until we are all in the same space, though.

Berry: The real benefit of having stuff in advance is like in “Annihilate,” where I have a part that I wrote on it because I had the time to think about it.

Simonett: I also don’t know how to write music down on paper, so it’s all pretty simple anyway.

You guys seem to operate a lot on instinct. Is that something you had to develop and learn?

Simonett: Oh, I think it’s the absence of learning for me. I don’t really know any other way to act.

Berry: I hate the word “easy,” but there’s been a certain easy chemistry that all of us have always had with each other. On the very early shows, I’m like, “That’s pretty good. I could see doing that again.” So there’s something like that, too, now that it’s 15 years down the road.

Simonett: There’s a lot of bands in the string band world, if you want to call it that, that are amazing at that kind of stuff. I guess I don’t want to list examples because I’ll probably leave somebody out, but I think we’re pretty comfortable being a band that’s not that. It’s maybe more song-driven than upfront-playing driven, if that makes sense. That’s just where we naturally fit, I think.

Berry: I’ll name a couple names. When we first started, I didn’t know what I was doing. So I went across the street from where I worked to the Electric Fetus Record Store in Duluth and said, “I’m just getting this bluegrass band starting. I don’t know what to listen to.” So they sold me a Bill Monroe CD and they sold me a Yonder Mountain String Band CD. They were like, “This is your basis. Here’s what’s happening right now.” That Yonder Mountain disc was Mountain Tracks, Volume 2. That’s a live one. There’s some really great stuff on there. It didn’t take me very long for me to realize I couldn’t play like that. [laughs]

You guys are good at reading the room by now, I’d imagine, after 15 years on the road.

Simonett: Yeah, I think so. It’s always kind of a mystery. You can play the same set list two nights in a row and the response could be completely different. My goal as a performer is to get as far away from caring about that as possible. Any true performer will tell you that you can’t please everybody and that’s really not your job anyway. My job onstage – I don’t view it as to be up there to make everybody in the room happy because I can barely keep myself happy, you know? But I feel like we tailor to rooms, though, with our set list.

Berry: If we were going to do a set that no one was going to watch, I think that what we would prefer to do would be like, “OK, let’s take a break with a little slower one, now. Now we’re going to kick it up again.” I think people like our tastes. We’re pretty lucky … I don’t know, I’ve had to come to grips with it, too, because people aren’t shy about letting you know they’re disappointed.

Simonett: They love it, actually.

Berry: People have been telling me after shows that it’s bullshit that we didn’t play “Song X” or “Song Y” since the year 2005.

Yeah? What do you do when that happens?

Berry: You play a 90-minute show. If you have more than 90 minutes’ worth of material, the odds of dropping a song are high. … If we played every original song we have, that’s a four-hour show. That’s not going to happen. So I could challenge any Trampled fan: “Here. Write your ideal set, 24 songs.” I know that I could read it and be like, “But you left off… Now you know how it feels.”

Simonett: A listening crowd – it’s a weird relationship, man. It feels great generally. I like performing. It took me a while to like it. I still get freaked out about getting up on stage. But I enjoy the act of it now. But you can’t go up there with the illusion that everybody in the room is going to enjoy what you do. I think if you start thinking about that too much, you start changing yourself and you’re really close to becoming a cover band.

Do you mean like a cover band of your own material?

Simonett: Of ourselves, yeah. To just go up there and try to do what you think people are going to like. That’s not the point. For me, I like to think as an artist, I want to be able to feel totally comfortable. This tour is a good example – to go up and play new music every night. That’s holding on to still being valid in some way.


When I listen to this record, there does seem to be a sense of motion in the writing and the songs. Do you agree with that?

Simonett: I agree with it, yeah. I think even the title. But all of that came about after we made it. It’s happened to me before. You write a bunch of songs and make a record and you have no clue of any kind of thread that binds them all together until you put it in order and listen to it. “I guess I was singing about traveling a lot.” [laughs] I don’t really notice it as it’s happening.

Listening to “Thank You, John Steinbeck,” I heard a reference to the book Travels With Charley. What are the literary influences you draw on for inspiration?

Simonett: Steinbeck is really high on my list. That book in particular. It’s been a couple of years since I’ve done this, but I used to read that book before every tour. Hopefully this isn’t too long-winded of an answer, but after a certain amount of time touring, maybe the traveling part of it starts to lose its sparkle a little bit, and you forget … It’s amazing how easy it is to have a life like this become predictable, which it’s not supposed to be. At least I don’t want it to be that way. [I want to] remember that it’s still an adventure. You’re still roaming around the world playing music. I think the core of that book is appreciating the adventure of a road trip. It made me want to pack my camera, you know?

Photos by David McClister

The Wood Brothers Build Slowly to Share ‘One Drop of Truth’

Posted on by Editor

The Wood Brothers write songs for front parlors, back porches, Saturday night rave-ups, and Sunday morning comedowns. Theirs is a sound anchored by the rudiments of American roots music — acoustic instruments, Southern strut, Bible Belt bounce — with deeper grooves and a willingness to break from tradition. One Drop of Truth, the trio’s latest record, finds the guys exploring that sound even further. Some might say that band members Chris Wood, Oliver Wood, and Jano Rix have become the cool uncles of the Americana family — younger and less rigid than the old-timers, while also wiser and more worldly than the newcomers.

BGS: You’re family men now. Did you record One Drop on Truth in Nashville because it would allow you to stay close to home?

Oliver Wood: We cut our previous two records in town, too. We had previously done records in other destination cities, and I’ll admit there’s something to be said for holing up somewhere exotic and getting a lot of work done, versus coming home every night. But the beautiful thing about this album was how we spread it out over the course of nine months. It was such a different experience.

Tell me about that process. Isn’t that a particularly long timeline for you?

What’s been typical for us is to let some songs gestate, work on them for a year, then book a studio for two weeks and just go in there and knock it out with a producer. That’s the normal way to do it, I guess. The process we chose this time was to work on a couple songs at a time and record them in between tours. We almost treated them like demos: Rather than booking a fancy studio and doing the whole album in one shot, we went to more modest studios — places we really felt comfortable in, places where we could experiment. Since we only did one or two songs at a time, each song got more attention. It took the stressful part out of the process and added the freedom of being creative. If something didn’t work out, we’d re-record it the next time. We could sit with stuff for awhile. We produced things ourselves, which is something we did on the Paradise album, too, and we wanted to take that to the next level.

Did you approach the songwriting differently, as well?

It was very collaborative. When we’re working on new music, all three of us make a point to … well, I hate to use the word “jam,” but that’s what we do. We improvise. We’ll get together in a space and just play random grooves and riffs, without talking. We record it and improvise off one another in a very free sort of way. A lot of our basic musical ideas come from that process. And we’ll take those things and file them under them “things to work on later.” In the meantime, Chris and I have books full of lyrics, and we take them home and work on them.

Some bands will radically rethink their live show with each new album. They’ll change their clothing, their stage setup, their light show. Do the Wood Brothers concern themselves with that, as well, or do you focus on the music?

We do think about the presentation. We’ll try using different lights for a new tour, or we’ll bring a big black curtain around the country with us. It doesn’t necessarily match up with an album cycle, though. What we enjoy, constantly, is integrating new songs into a show, whether it’s a new cover tune or an old Wood Brothers song that we’ve completely reworked. That last bit is something we’ve really enjoyed lately. We’ll take an old song that was originally a mellow acoustic song and we’ll turn it into a rocker, or vice versa. We love transforming those things. We try to keep that process going, regardless of which album we’re promoting.

That’s a big part of the roots music tradition, right? Re-examining old songs and presenting them to new audiences?

Absolutely. We’re huge music fans and music nerds. There are so many songs I’ve always wanted to do, and it can be a personal indulgence sometimes, playing some of these songs and making them your own. Ultimately, the whole thing is a privilege, just to share music with your bandmates and your audience. To play a cover song everybody knows and loves, that’s really gratifying. We’re all loving the song together. It can be one of ours or someone else’s. It’s all about us connecting with people, and them connecting with us.

You’ve been connecting in some large rooms lately. You’re playing venues like the Ryman on this tour.

The way I think of it is, we’ve had a very gradual rise to the middle, which I appreciate. It’s held my interest over the years. I can’t imagine a meteoric rise to the top. I prefer the non-meteoric rise to the middle, because it’s so gradual that you might not even notice. We’ve been playing these markets for years, and the climb toward bigger rooms has happened really slowly. Playing the Ryman this spring is a huge jump for us, and a real special occasion for any band that’s never played there before. That might be the biggest headlining show for us.

I imagine that you’ve run into some challenges in those bigger venues, too. They’re not always designed with acoustic bands in mind.

We’re learning what works and what doesn’t. We’ve did some crazy opening slots for larger acts — everyone from k.d. lang to Brandi Carlile to the Tedeschi Trucks tour this past summer. Several years back, we opened for Zac Brown at venues like Bridgestone Arena, and it didn’t always work, to be honest. It doesn’t make sense to have us play at Bridgestone.

But we did learn a lot from doing those shows. We learned that if you’re doing something subtle — the stuff we enjoy doing for a captive audience inside a theater — it isn’t always going to work for a basketball arena. At the Ryman, on the other hand, some of that stuff will definitely work. We started playing at listening rooms, and we still like that subtle stuff. Like I said, we’re still learning. It’s an epic quest.

As a three-piece band, the recording studio allows you to make a much more lush, layered sound than the one you can create in concert. Where do you draw that line between the honest — but limited — sound of a live trio and the infinite sounds you can make with overdubs? And does that line change with each album?

It changes with each song and with each album. What some people were drawn to at the beginning of the Wood Brothers’ career was how spare we sounded. We were pretty much a duo on our first album, and we mostly played live in the studio. That album was meant to represent what the two of us sounded like. As we began playing bigger venues, we grew sonically and added a member. Having Jano in the mix allows us to experiment on a song-by-song basis, where we can add keys, horns, or strings.

The venue can dictate a lot of things, too. Subconsciously, the venues you’re playing do affect the way you write. Sometimes, when we’re working on a new song, I can’t help but picture us playing it at a festival. I’ll wonder how it’ll work in that context. There are certain songs where you think, “This will rock in a bigger room,” and there are other songs where you think, “This is a nice song for a theater, where everyone is facing the stage and remaining silent.” You can’t help but think about that. Your environment colors the way you write.

To get back to your question, though, our general aesthetic is to not add too much, in general, but we’ve learned that the studios can be very different than the live shows. Oftentimes, when we prepare a song for its live debut, it changes from its studio version. It doesn’t need to be the exact same.

The band has worked with different labels over the past decade. You were with Blue Note for years. You worked with Zac Brown’s label, Southern Ground, as well. What’s your current situation?

We have our own label, but we also work with Thirty Tigers for marketing and distribution. We really like the independence part of it. It’s nice to own your own music. We have the luxury of creating our own budget for an album. It’s not that expensive these days, especially if you’re not paying a producer. For us, the best part of it is, we just make an album. No one is watching us or checking in. We can get the purest, uninfluenced stuff. Whether people like it or not, who knows? But we like it. And we’re not beholden to anyone, on the creative side or financially.

Photo credit: Alysse Gafkjen