BGS Top 50 Moments: Newport Folk Festival

Dylan going electric in 1965. Lomax making his historic archive recordings in 1966. Joni taking the stage after 50-something years in 2022. Newport Folk is a festival full of milestone moments and lots of surprises. And for a brief moment in time in 2014, BGS was a small part of Newport Folk Fest’s long and storied history too, when we presented our Bluegrass Situation Workshop Stage inside the intimate Whaling Museum building on Sunday at the Fort.

Amidst a festival lineup that included such stalwarts as Nickel Creek, Trampled by Turtles, Dawes, Valerie June, Hozier, Jack White, and Mavis Staples, the BGS crew – helmed by co-founder Ed Helms and his Lonesome Trio bandmates Ian Riggs and Jake Tilove – hosted a few “up and coming” acts we were very excited about, singing songs about significant “firsts” in their lives. Some of those young whippersnappers you might have heard of, like Shakey Graves (joined by Chris Funk of the Decemberists and Langhorne Slim), Aoife O’Donovan, Wilie Watson (with special guest Sean Watkins), and Watchhouse (who were still going by Mandolin Orange at the time), which marked Andrew and Emily’s very first – but certainly not last – appearance at Newport.

That big “first” for us was significant – to be welcomed into the “Folk” Family and made to feel like we were all part of something big and wonderful. And it’s that feeling that’s brought us back to the Fort year after year ever since.


Photos by Samara Vise

BGS Top 50 Moments: A Tribute to Jerry Garcia

 

If my words did glow with the gold of sunshine
And my tunes were played on the harp unstrung
Would you hear my voice come through the music?
Would you hold it near as it were your own?

On a warm spring evening in Los Angeles, a revered mix of musicians gathered to lift up the legacy of Jerry Garcia and “to hold the music near as it were their own.”  JUBILEE: A Celebration of Jerry Garcia was a very special, one night only benefit concert paying tribute to his 75th birthday, produced by BGS, Goldenvoice, and the Garcia Family.

With an all-star lineup that included the likes of Hiss Golden Messenger, Billy Strings, Molly Tuttle, Margo Price, Stephen Malkmus, Chris Funk, Sam Bush, David Hidalgo (Los Lobos), Jamie Drake, Josh Ritter, and Amos Lee, supported by a house band lead by Benmont Tench and Mike Campbell (of Tom Petty & the Heartbreakers) and Sean and Sara Watkins (of Nickel Creek and Watkins Family Hour), the evening was a love letter to the man whose influence has continued to reach far beyond the confines of the Dead.

Relive some of the amazing collaborations in the photo gallery below:


Photo Credit: Elli Lauren

BGS Top 50 Moments: The LA Bluegrass Situation at Largo

It was 2010 when the true origins of “The Sitch” first materialized.  For five days in May, BGS founder Ed Helms congregated a lauded lineup of roots artists at the storied Largo at the Coronet Theatre in Los Angeles.  That first annual LA Bluegrass Situation festival included the likes of Steve Martin and the Steep Canyon Rangers, The Watkins Family Hour, Gillian Welch, Will Ferrell, Jackson Browne, The Infamous Stringdusters, and Ed’s Whiskey Sour Radio Hour variety showcase.

In the festivals that followed, LABS brought in the likes of Nickel Creek, John C. Reilly, the Punch Brothers, Willie Watson, and many others before broadening to bigger venues across Los Angeles.  The online iteration of “The Bluegrass Sitch” wouldn’t come to fruition for another two years, but the heart of it was all there, on stage at Largo, from the very start.


Photo Credit: Lincoln Andrew Defour

Harmonics with Beth Behrs: Time for Some Music Recommendations

Let’s face it: times are pretty dark right now — but what else is new? Harmonics was born out of a love for music and its healing powers, and we are once again turning towards art to pull us through. Today, Beth is joined by Amy Reitnouer Jacobs — our very own BGS co-founder and executive producer of Harmonics — who shares with us the fruits of her curatorial labor in the form of her top albums getting her through the summer: from heart-wrenching yet uplifting folk songs by Allison Russell, to the vibey, Don Henley-esque sounds of John Mayer’s recent release, on through to ’70s Japanese pop, and stopping everywhere in between.

LISTEN: APPLE • SPOTIFY • STITCHERAMAZON • POCKET CASTS

Allison Russell – Outside Child

BGS readers will be familiar with this first pick. We’ve long sang the praises of Allison Russell (she was our Artist of the Month for May of this year) and when asked their favorite albums of the year, essentially every member of the BGS team chose her solo debut Outside Child. This is a very special record — for so many reasons — that you do not want to miss. And your listening experience will only be enhanced by learning the context in which it was written. Russell shared her painful story with us back in Season 1 of Harmonics, then came back and breathed uplifting hope into that story through the beautiful music of Outside Child.

Dante Elephante – Mid-Century Modern Romance

This album has been Amy’s weekend soundtrack for some time now. Throw this record on first-thing Saturday morning, and you, too, will be grooving, coffee in hand, in no time.

Tony Joe White – Smoke from the Chimney

This posthumous album from Tony Joe White features vocals from acoustic demos the roots legend recorded shortly before his passing, brought to their full potential through the lush arrangements and editing magic of Dan Auerbach.

Valerie June – The Moon And Stars: Prescriptions For Dreamers

Fall into the weird and wonderful world of Valerie June through the intricately layered yet completely raw and vulnerable musical journey of her latest album. Don’t try to define this album — just allow yourself to get wrapped up in whatever it is.

John Mayer – Sob Rock

While Amy has admittedly not dug into any John Mayer album since his 2001 debut Room for Squares, her love for the newly coined “Bistro Vibes” aesthetic (read into this y’all, and just trust us…) has led her to Mayer’s latest summer release: a more-than-likely pandemic-fueled nostalgic nod to the sounds of the ’80s a la Don Henley, Dire Straits, Steve Winwood, and Phil Collins, paired with songwriting that taps into the isolation and despair we’ve felt for the past year and a half.

Yellow Magic Orchestra – Yellow Magic Orchestra

The experimental nature and endlessly chill vibes of Japanese pop of the ’70s and ’80s make for the perfect summer soundtrack, and the traceable influence on today’s indie music is fascinating. Bonus points if you can listen on vinyl, as the depths of these recordings are all the more rewarding and delicious in this format.

Sara Watkins – Under the Pepper Tree

While the beautiful Under the Pepper Tree — a collection of lovely lullabies, both original and classic favorites — was recorded and released for Watkins’ small daughter, we, as adults, have been unable to take it off of repeat since its March release. While some may laugh at the idea of being so enamored with a “children’s record,” we dare them to experience the comfort of Watkins’ magical collection — especially amidst the tumultuous year we’ve had — and not fall in love. She pulls out what is so beautiful and lasting about these songs, and what makes us connect with and feel through them.


Listen and subscribe to Harmonics through all podcast platforms and follow Harmonics and Beth Behrs on Instagram for series updates!

With His Son and Special Guests, David Crosby Finds His Way on ‘For Free’

“I think I found my way.”

When a guy about to turn 80 sings that line, you take note. When that guy is David Crosby, who in fact turns that age on August 14… well…

“I don’t know if I would have sung it at any other time in my life,” Crosby says in a Zoom chat from his home north of Santa Barbara, California, where he lives with Jan Dance, his wife of 34 years.

But sing it he does, in the song “I Think I,” a highlight of his new album, For Free. With this, his fifth album in seven years (after just three solo albums in the earlier part of his career), he comes to his 80th in a remarkable creative run. It’s a strong collection featuring the fruits of several creative collaborations, mostly with his son, James Raymond. Among the guests are Michael McDonald on the shining opener “River Rise,” Steely Dan’s Donald Fagen on the jazzy, dark “Rodriguez For a Night” and Sarah Jarosz, with whom he duets on a gorgeously spare version of the Joni Mitchell song that gives the album its title.

It’s that line from “I Think I,” though, that speaks most profoundly to the state of his life. If you know much about that life, you understand. And you might greet those words with a sigh of relief. He certainly does.

“I do feel happy now,” he says. “The thing I love about the song the most is that it’s up. It’s, you know, happy sounding. Normally I record tortured ballads that go on for days. ‘The dog died’ or ‘my truck broke down.’ This is up and happy and positive and it just captures that mood that’s around. That’s a blessing for me. That’s a great thing.”

The life leading to this moment has been well-documented and much discussed. Most significantly, Crosby created some of the most bracing, beloved, and enduring American music of the past 60 years, first as a founding member of folk-rock pioneers the Byrds and then in the various partnerships with Stephen Stills, Graham Nash and/or Neil Young. Along with the essential, indelible songs CSN(&Y) gave us, there was much discord and discontent and it finally blew up, apparently for good, in 2014, sparked in part by some unfortunate remarks Crosby made regarding Young’s personal life. And Crosby’s history is marked by his years of drug addiction and a consequent prison term and liver transplant — and, thankfully, recovery. This was all covered in Remember My Name, the unflinching 2019 documentary that brought him to some painfully heartfelt reckonings.

For better or worse, Crosby’s legacy is tangled up with groups and partnerships. Asked to untangle it, he turns thoughtful.

“A lot of the musical complexity and strangeness comes from me loving jazz and world music,” he says. “I mean, I like a lot of different kinds of music, man. I like bluegrass. I like blues. I like classical music. And that has influenced me very strongly. Particularly jazz, and particularly jazz keyboard players, McCoy Tyner, Bill Evans, people like that. They have had a very strong influence because they played those real dense, big tone, cluster kinds of chords. And I couldn’t do them in regular tuning on the guitar. That’s what made me start re-tuning the guitar into other shapes so that I could get those kind of chords. So the jazz thing really did stack me up differently.”

That influence has been a constant facet, all the way back to the Byrds (“Everybody’s Been Burned” is almost a template for the folk-jazz explorations Tim Buckley would make) and CSN (“Guinnevere,” with its floating harmonics, was covered by both Miles Davis and jazz flute player Herbie Mann).

These days Crosby is not focused on the past, although with last year’s 50th anniversary of the CSN&Y album Déjà Vu and the expanded deluxe reissue, he’s had to do more of that than he’d like.

“I always prefer when it comes to talking about me, I like it to be somebody else doing the talking,” he says.

He’s not focused on the future, either. He says that he likely won’t tour again and with tendonitis in both hands, he expects he won’t be able to play guitar anymore within a year — a great shame as his guitar playing, with its intricate jazz voicings and inventive tunings, is as stunning as his singing, if not as widely recognized.

He’s certainly not looking forward to his birthday.

“No, no, no, no, no, no, no!” he insists. “Birthdays are not happy when you get old. No, no, no, no, no, no! We don’t celebrate. We mourn those.”

Yet he’s utterly bubbly celebrating the new album, as well as the four leading up to it, by far his most prolific stretch in terms of making and releasing his own music. It’s not often that we can say that about someone’s 70s, let alone someone with such a vaunted career packed with songs and albums cherished dearly by millions.

“Isn’t that weird?” he says. “It’s just completely bass-ackwards. But there you go.”

To what does he attribute this?

“I got out of CSN,” he says, never one to mince words. “It was, obviously, a wonderful band and we did a lot of really great stuff. But when it when sour, it went really sour. And it went sour very fast.”

It was rough, but the silver lining shines brightly.

“I don’t make anywhere near as much money,” he says. “But I’m making good music. And that’s kind of what they put me here to do, I think.”

Cue the title song, Mitchell’s loving portrait of a street musician playing for the pure joy of it. This is the third straight Crosby album to include a Mitchell song, following “Amelia” on 2017’s Sky Trails and “Woodstock” closing 2018’s Here If You Listen. Crosby, who was an early champion (and romantic partner) of Mitchell’s, producing her debut album, Song to a Seagull, sang “For Free” on the Byrds’ 1973 reunion album. Now, though, it has a deeper resonance, reconnecting to the essence of music-making. Rather than an observer, he’s the guy in the song.

“Yep,” he says. “There I am standing on the corner. It’s squarely, smack dab in the middle of who I wanted to be, as me. I love what it says. Putting it on as the title track is also taking a little dig at the streamers. Because it is for free, man. They don’t pay us.”

Crosby had become a fan of Sarah Jarosz via I’m With Her, the group in which she’s teamed with Aoife O’Donovan and Sara Watkins. And he loved Jarosz’s 2020 album, World on the Ground.

“I called her up and said, ‘Listen, Sarah. Can we do something together?’” he says. “And she said, ‘Sure! What do you want to do?’ And I said, ‘I don’t know. I just want to sing with you.’ And she said, ‘Oh, you sweetheart.’”

Crosby quickly suggested “For Free.”

“I’ve sung it a bunch, and I’m confident with it,” he told her. “She said, ‘Oh, I love that song.’ So I sent her a tape of it that I went in to the studio and cut. James made this incredible piano track for it. Just beautiful. Sarah sent it back with her vocal on it, and it completely blew my mind out of my ear. It was unbelievably good.”

Clearly, Crosby still craves collaboration. A sense of joyful purpose is unmistakable in his voice and in the voices and playing of those who helped him make the album. Foremost is James Raymond, the producer-composer-keyboardist who has been at Crosby’s musical side regularly since 1997, five years after learning that Crosby was his biological father. His talents have been showcased not only in his father’s solo projects, but also for years with CSN as a full-time member of the touring band, and in the jazzy group Crosby and Raymond fronted off and on with bassist Jeff Pevar, cheekily branded CPR. On For Free, Raymond wrote or co-wrote seven of its 10 songs, including “I Think I” and the somberly beautiful closer, “I Won’t Stay for Long,” inspired by Marcel Camus’ haunting 1959 film Black Orpheus.

“It’s wild to watch,” Crosby beamed. “He’s gotten to be as good a writer as I am, or better. ‘I Won’t Stay for Long’ is the best song on the record. It makes me cry. It just freaks me out.”

Guitarist Dean Parks adds color to “Rodriguez” and “Shot at Me,” the latter a powerful ballad which he co-wrote from Crosby’s words inspired by an encounter with an Afghanistan war veteran, who told him of the most human costs of war. It’s a strong addition to Crosby’s deep catalog of incisive, biting topical songs.

“I seem to run into those guys and talk to them,” Crosby says. “I ran into this guy at the airport and was drinking in the bar and he looked really bummed, really sad. So sure, I talked to him.”

As for not being able to tour anymore, Crosby is sad but sanguine.

“Singing live is the great joy of my life,” he says. “My family and singing live. That’s the top of my world, you know?”

Even if the shows stop, the music won’t, right?

“I don’t know,” he says. “I can still sing. That’s why we’re doing the records, because we love making music. Right? They obviously don’t pay us for them, so that’s the only reason there could be. We’re not trying to win the ratings war or something. We’re just singing exactly the music that really rings our bell and makes our heart sing. And there you go. And if people like it, great. And if they don’t like it, great, we don’t care.”


Photo credit: Anna Webber.
Album cover painting by Joan Baez.

For Chris Thile, Instrumental Music Excels in the Cracks of Language (2 of 2)

Chris Thile has always woven religious references into his songwriting, but never so much as on Laysongs. Recorded in solitude in an old church with just a mandolin and a sound engineer, the new album offers lyrics that question our impulses and references that span the Bible (“Ecclesiastes”), Hungarian composers (a take on Bartok’s “Sonata for Solo Violin, Sz. 117: IV. Presto”), and bluegrass legends (a cover of Hazel Dickens’ “Won’t You Come and Sing for Me”) in service of a higher truth.

Here, in the second installment of a two-part interview, BGS catches up with Thile about co-producing an album with his wife, finding inspiration in good wine, and why great instrumental music should emulate a warm dinner conversation.

Read the first half of the BGS Artist of the Month interview with Chris Thile here.

BGS: Your wife, [actress Claire Coffee], co-produced this album with you. What did that lend to the final product, and how did it influence the process?

Thile: Pretty much since we met, she’s graciously been my unofficial editor. It was high time to just formalize that. [Laughs] When you’re doing something like this — a pure solo record, no overdubs, absolutely nothing between me and your ears — it really helps to have someone involved who is absolutely 100 percent unimpressed with you. She has heard every one of my tricks and can see straight through them, can hear straight through them.

As an actor and someone who’s made a lot of film and television, Claire cuts straight to the chase: “Is this meaning something? Does one and one equal two here? Are we starting somewhere and ending somewhere — and how is the ride between those two points? Are we engaged? Is this clear enough, and does it ever get too painfully clear? Are we leading the witness, are we telling people the punchline before we give them the setup?” I can really gild the lily when left to my own devices. Musically, I can sort of be the guy in the theatre, like, elbowing you — like I’ve seen it six times and I’m like, oh, you’re going to love this part! And so Claire, I think, is so good at being like, “Hey. Don’t do that.” [Laughs]

And perhaps, also, letting you know when it’s warranted.

Right. Sometimes I won’t pull the trigger on what would be a really interesting decision because I’m worried that I’m just swinging too hard. I sort of gingerly put the idea of doing the fourth movement of Bartok solo violin sonata. Thinking, well, this is kind of a bridge too far. I sent it to Claire like, “What if I learned this on the mandolin?” and she was like, “Absolutely. Do that. That’s gonna be amazing.” Which was just so shocking to me! I thought I had probably lost my mind. [Laughs]

It was also her idea to put it after “Salt (in the Wounds) of the Earth.” I mean, I feel like everyone thinks they’re gonna get a big ol’ chance to exhale after “Salt (in the Wounds) of the Earth,” and instead… I mean, think of it like these Peloton instructors: You think, “Surely, surely this is it. Surely this is the hardest I’m gonna have to go.” And they’re like, GIVE ME FIVE MORE ON YOUR RESISTANCE!!

I feel like it’s that kind of move, going from “Salt (in the Wounds) of the Earth” to the fourth movement of the Bartok sonata. It’s as if the demon in “Salt (in the Wounds) of the Earth” just took my mandolin from me. But that’s the kind of perspective someone who loves you—but isn’t taking any of your shit—can help you with, especially someone who also has a deep and wide skill set that is compatible with mine. It was so fun to work with her on that.

You’ve always got multiple projects going. Is there anything you learned specifically from performing in groups and making music in that atmosphere that you feel gave you an advantage when you set out to record an album alone?

The accountability — the musical accountability, artistic accountability — that you feel in a collaborative context is noticeably absent in a solo context, so you need to pick up the slack there. You need to start roleplaying those people in your life who hold you artistically accountable. Thank God I had Claire involved in this project, but on the deep I-dotting and T-crossings that you encounter at every step along the way of the record-making process, I would also assume the role of an Edgar Meyer or Gabe Witcher or a Sara Watkins. I’d tease out a little fake conversation between myself and them, all by myself in the practice room. “In what way am I not being clear enough right now? In what way am I being self-indulgent right now?”

There are so many things that you learn from the people around you. But there are also things that you can learn in the silent retreat of making music solo. There are things that I can take back to each of those projects — things I can take back to Punch Brothers, or Nickel Creek, or the Goat Rodeo Sessions — that I think could be illuminative in those contexts.

Do you enjoy talking about religion outside of your art?

People have such strong feelings about religion. You wanna bust open a conversation, bring up God — like, in a real way. People are gonna quit mincing words and they’re gonna start talking about shit. I love that. I really love talking to people about that kind of stuff, from wherever they are. I find it endlessly instructive in my own journey. I find someone’s total disinterest in it just as interesting as total interest in it. If I bring up God and you’re like, “I don’t wanna talk about that shit, come on,” then I love you for that. Let’s go with that. Let’s talk about that.

And if I bring up God and you’re like, “Ugh, you know what? I was just praying about that this morning, I feel like the Lord brought you to me,” I’m in. Let’s go there. Why do you feel that way? Let’s go there. At this point, I have no reservations about bringing up God. It’s always been an instinct of mine to infuse whatever I’m thinking about with a little of that kind of imagery and language and thought, and so this was cathartic for me to just turn all the taps on and let it run.

You push beyond your own religious upbringing, too — you also included a song, “Dionysus,” named for the Greek god of grapes and wine. What inspired you to write about that figure?

I’m always looking for encouragement, as a human being, about human beings. We see a lot of evidence of our failings right now, and I want to see evidence of our success. Wine — the existence of good wine — is evidence of our success as a species. That is a beautiful relationship with the earth. We have occasionally exploited that relationship, but the best wine comes from the healthiest relationship with the soil. The best winemakers have this beautiful balance of science and mysticism. It sounds silly, but I find the whole thing very inspiring.

Ecclesiastes 2:24 seems like it’s along those lines, too: “Nothing is better for a man than that he should eat and drink, and that his soul should enjoy good in his labor. This also, I saw, was from the hand of God.” Why express that instrumentally rather than through lyrics?

Think about the last great dinner that you had with friends. Could you really, with words, describe to me why it was so great? Could you say, “And then we talked about this” or “Next, we gossiped about that”? When you walk me through that, or when I walk you through the last dinner I had, it’s gonna sound trite. And yet, there was something holy about it, you know? Maybe there was a new person that you sat next to, and you got a little light into a different corner of life that night. But could you say with words what that was? I don’t think you could, necessarily, say what can be so transcendent and transportive about a great dinner with friends. That’s where instrumental music excels — in the cracks of language. What language is incapable of properly expressing, instrumental music steps up and says, “I got this.”


Photos: Josh Goleman

With Day Jobs on Hold, These Acoustic Musicians Go Solo (Sort Of)

The widespread shuttering of the music industry during coronavirus has given many musicians, bands, and artists the opportunity to inspect and reconfigure their priorities. In the many months since COVID-19 was declared a pandemic, this phenomenon has been well-documented in writing about music — music released as a result of the coronavirus or released in its all-eclipsing shadow, both. Artists have altered so many of the ways they interact with and create music and watching creatives respond to this worldwide cataclysm has been all at once entrancing and existential. 

Especially in instrumental music. Especially in instrumental music made in the off time — away from the “day job,” the main gig, or perhaps, again the off time afforded by COVID. In the gaps, where life allows, acoustic musicians in bluegrass, Americana, and old-time have been exploring the existential questions brought about by the pandemic — and also often by parenthood, by identity, by health and well being, or simply by the pursuit of self — in endlessly fascinating musical endeavors.

Andrew Marlin, co-frontperson of longtime Americana string duo Watchhouse (formerly known as Mandolin Orange) released not one but two albums of such endeavors this year, ostensible results of introspection of his role as a father, fighting-while-resigning-to the day-to-day beauties and fears within fatherhood. There’s a bleak, beautiful nakedness to “The Jaybird,” off Fable & Fire, an age-old sounding fiddle tune with sleek, modern simplicities that seem to indicate the gorgeousness possible from being still, watching, waiting, and listening. 

On Witching Hour, “Too Hot To Move” isn’t a barn burner, it’s a Musgraves-level slow burn; a tepid, mosquito-laden, languid afternoon on a back porch, the air thick with humidity. Again, striking in its display of the delectable everyday, in not just occupying the same place with the same people daily, but inhabiting that place with intention. Marlin’s backing band of Clint Mullican (bass), Josh Oliver (guitar, piano, and more), Jordan Tice (guitar, bouzouki), and Christian Sedelmeyer (fiddle) is largely consistent between the projects as well, reiterating this point.

Sara Watkins, known for many a “main gig” — whether that be Watkins Family Hour, Nickel Creek, or I’m With Her — released another fantastic solo offering, built on many of the same tenets evident in Marlin’s recordings. Under the Pepper Tree, whose title track is the album’s sole instrumental, is a whimsical, winking collection of near-lullabies and other ageless classics rendered as only Watkins could, with pop underpinnings and gloss, but a worn, charming patina of bluegrass and Americana via the American Songbook and its associated canon. 

“Under the Pepper Tree” listens like a fiddled campfire coda to a day on the trail; or, similarly, as if a goodnight to Watkins’ young daughter, after returning from tour. While the album as a whole carries the movement and adventure of the Wild West, as well as theatre and cinema and gaiety, its sense of place — of rootedness — is remarkable, especially in “Under the Pepper Tree,” oozing of lessons learned and intentions made underneath its boughs through pandemic isolation. 

Continuing on fiddle, Mike Barnett’s non-Ricky Skaggs & Kentucky Thunder project released in 2020, +1, feels like somewhat familiar territory, a collection of duets with friends and musical compatriots that stretches out purposefully and athletically from his tours with the Country Music Hall of Famer (who also appears on the album). “Piece O’ Shrimp,” with guest Alex Hargreaves on twin fiddle, is wonky, newgrassy, orchestral, and sly with old-time baked in and a dash of Darol Anger & Mike Marshall’s duet work. 

The poetry in the tune, and the entire project really, came from a health-related pausing of a different kind, though. While the rest of us felt the world halt due to the coronavirus, Barnett’s record release, as well as his performing career, were unexpectedly paused when Barnett suffered a cerebral hemorrhage in July 2020. This collection of songs gains an entirely new meaning, not only in the context of COVID-19, but also as a waypoint on Barnett’s journey through music, his recovery, and his eventual return to playing. Still in in-patient rehabilitation and therapy, Barnett posted an update via GoFundMe (support here) in February 2021 that closed, “…A full recovery is possible and likely!” 

Finally, to conclude our foray into solo instrumental explorations, Sam Armstrong-Zickefoose, multi-instrumentalist and songwriter of Meadow Mountain, considers ideas of place, identity, and belonging on his upcoming crowdfunded release, Spark in Your Smile. Decidedly forsaking tradition-adjacency, perhaps more than might be expected if a listener’s entry point is Meadow Mountain, the album is a testament to Armstrong-Zickefoose’s commitment to community building; he’s utilizing music and creative expression for that purpose. The expansive quality of the project’s lack of genre conjures joy first and foremost, especially on “Mona,” and globe-crossing communities as a near second, each instrument, texture, and tone evidence of what’s possible when roots music allows folks to be and to belong. A priority high on everyone’s list, but especially queer folks in bluegrass, old-time, and Americana like Armstrong-Zickefoose.

As touring bands return to the road, it will continue to be fascinating to watch musicians navigate the reconfiguration of their priorities — and how they will continue to carve out the time to express themselves, instrumentally and otherwise, while life, and the music industry, charges on ahead.


Photo credit: Sara Watkins by Jacob Boll; Andrew Marlin by Lindsey Rome.

WATCH: Nickel Creek Return to “Helena” for Their Livecreek Experience

Of all the good news that has come out of 2021 so far, none might be sweeter than the news that Nickel Creek has been re-joining forces to write and perform music again. On the final two Sundays of February, the band hosted two livestream concert events called “Nickel Stream: A Livecreek Experience” via Mandolin.com.

Not missing a step or forgetting a lyric, the trio’s performances were immaculate and reminded audiences why Nickel Creek is a special band. In this video of “Helena,” they exercise the signature spice that has always marked their music, taking their listeners on a journey that grows and evolves until its frenzied end. Sara and Sean Watkins together with Chris Thile effortlessly create beautiful, entrancing music, no matter the context and to hear fresh renditions of some of Nickel Creek’s beloved material is welcome anytime here at BGS.


 

The BGS Radio Hour – Episode 205

Welcome to the BGS Radio Hour! Since 2017, this weekly radio show and podcast has been a recap of all the great music, new and old, featured on the digital pages of BGS. This week, we bring you new music from Sara Watkins featuring her old bandmates from Nickel Creek, newly released tracks from Shakey Graves’ archive, and so much more! Remember to check back every Tuesday for a new episode of the BGS Radio Hour.

APPLE PODCASTS, SPOTIFY

Sara Watkins (feat. Nickel Creek) – “Blue Shadows on the Trail”

Sara Watkins recently sat down with BGS to talk about the set of film classics that defined her childhood, and are featured on her new album. With songs like “Pure Imagination” and “Moon River,” this album isn’t just for kids, even if it was first imagined as a collection of lullabies. Instead, it’s a meditative look at these songs which have impacted more than just one generation. And who could forget this classic from the 1980s classic comedy Three Amigos?

The Ladles – “Pages”

Here’s a song about the experience of reading through an old journal and being confronted with your past self — not a particularly comfortable experience. However, for Katie Martucci of The Ladles, it’s a reminder that at any given moment, we only know what we know, and we’re all doing the best we can.

The Antlers – “Porchlight”

“Porchlight” is about a powerful partnership, “knowing somebody so well as to recognize when they’re lost, and helping them find their way back home.”

Andrew Adkins – “This Old Knife”

When asked to be a part of a tribute album to singer-songwriter John Lilly, Andrew Adkins knew exactly what song he wanted to sing: one that he’d had a remarkably personal connection to the first time he heard it.

Shakey Graves – “Roll the Bones”

It’s hard to believe that Shakey Graves’ debut album Roll the Bones came out 10 years ago. Since the album’s quiet 2011 release, he’s emerged from the shadows, releasing multiple albums and garnering a substantial following. In celebration of the decade since, Shakey brings us Roll the Bones 10, a deluxe edition which also features 15 unheard songs from the same era as the original album.

Bridget Rian – “Trailer Park Cemetery”

Inspired by a trailer park cemetery seen while driving through Florida, this song is more a commentary on life than it is death. Bridget Rian says she has a “fear of being forgotten, of not making a difference” with her life – and this song was a mode of expressing this fear.

Jason Davis (feat. Dan Tyminski) – “Modern Day Jezebel”

Dan Tyminski sings lead and plays guitar on this tasty modern bluegrass tune from Jason Davis.

Peggy Seeger – “Gotta Get Home By Midnight”

Folk legend Peggy Seeger is our Artist of the Month for April here at BGS, and we’re so grateful to have been able to speak with her on her new album First Farewell, her lifelong career in folk music, her hopes for social justice and peace, and much more.

Garrison, Gordy, Hargreaves, Walsh – “Sports”

Bluegrass instrumental supergroup Garrison, Gordy, Hargreaves, Walsh have set their fun, rollicking instrumental tune “Sports” to a zany, hand-drawn music video by banjoist Danny Barnes.

Donovan Woods – “Whatever Keeps You Going”

Canadian singer-songwriter Donovan Woods recently joined BGS for 5+5 on reading lots of fiction, a memorable London show, writing with Lori McKenna, and more.

The Sweet Lillies – “My Brother’s Hill”

Boulder’s The Sweet Lillies bring us their version of a tune originally released by The Stray Birds, a song they chose because they were deeply inspired by its stunning vocal harmonies, its beautiful and meaningful lyrics, and its old-timey structure.

Giri Peters – “Fallin'”

Those who frequent bluegrass festivals in the south may already be familiar with the young savant Giri Peters. Giri and his sister Uma quickly gained popularity in the last number of years for their impeccable musical skills, not to mention at such a young age. Giri, originally known as an up-and-coming mandolinist, has continued to grow as a songwriter and solo artist. His most recent single is a testament to his musical and artistic growth, and brings much promise of an exciting career ahead.

June Star – “I Don’t Wanna Know”

“Human beings are messy emotional creatures,” says June Star’s Andrew Grimm. “Sometimes when we struggle to communicate in relationships it’s because there’s the voice we speak with and that voice in our head. ‘I Don’t Wanna Know’ bounces between a professed love to another person and a confessed loneliness on the inside.”

Miles Gannett – “Thunder River, Tumbling Down”

Miles Gannett heard the melody and some lyrics of this song, including the lines “Thunder River, tumbling down; catch your babes before they drown” in a dream — and it kind of creeped him out. He sat with it for a couple of years before it all came together in this final semi-apocalyptic song.


Photos: (L to R) Shakey Graves by Magen Buse; Sara Watkins by Jacob Boll; Peggy Seeger by Vicki Sharp

Sara Watkins Finds a Dreamy Rhythm With ‘Under the Pepper Tree’

The Schinus molle — more commonly known as the California pepper tree — can grow up to 45 feet high and 50 feet wide, producing small yellow flowers and rose-colored berries, and bringing shade to everything within reach. For Nickel Creek originator Sara Watkins, the pepper tree brings about memories of family, youthful fun, and inspiration for her latest record, Under the Pepper Tree. Produced by Tyler Chester, the 15-song album is a personal project for Watkins, including songs from her own childhood alongside a few original compositions. Reuniting Nickel Creek, I’m With Her, and a range of guest performances, she tackles favorite songs such as “Pure Imagination” (from Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory) and “Blue Shadows on the Trail” (from The Three Amigos).

BGS caught up with Watkins from her California home to talk about the inspirations behind Under the Pepper Tree, and the experience of making a record like this during the COVID-19 pandemic.

BGS: Was the making of this album a different experience from those you’ve done in the past?

Watkins: Yeah, and not just because we did it during COVID. That was a huge appeal in working with Tyler Chester — he can play so many instruments so well. His musicality comes out on each instrument really well. Other than that, I knew early on that it would be necessary for the songs to weave together. As I was collecting these songs, realizing that so many of them are kind of dreamy and mellow, I wasn’t dealing with the typical balance of “up” songs, “down” songs, “sad” songs, “happy” songs, the way those things can affect the sequence of a normal album. Because of the nature of this material, a lot of the songs had a similar dreamy quality, so I thought by connecting them all, that would let the album kind of drift along, and hopefully sweep you up in a way that might not happen if they were all just 15 individual tracks. 

Before going in to record the project, we did a bit of a practice swing, just to see how the sequence might work together. We made some changes to the sequence and adjusted the transitions accordingly, so that everything went together as well as possible. This is the first time I’ve sequenced an album before going in to record, and I really enjoyed the result and how it affected the process throughout. It’s definitely something I’m going to bring with me into my future projects, even if I don’t do it exactly the same way. I’m going to consider it very seriously before starting records. 

How did getting to be home during the pandemic influence your day to day, and outlook on this album?

If affected it completely. I don’t think I would have made this record without the experience of just being home, and realizing that I needed some kind of rhythm, needed something that would tell me that today was passing. I’m new to being home, the way that all musicians are. That, combined with having a toddler now, was a new experience. The first couple years of being a mom I was on tour, and the rhythm of tour life is built into the work, the way that most people’s jobs provide a rhythm for their life. I think a lot of [musicians] were discovering that we needed to create those rhythms, by taking morning or evening walks around the neighborhood, by spending more time making meals or cooking, or doing whatever it is that helps cycle you in to the next part of the day. 

I was digging through my old record collection, and I would listen to five a day, and decide whether or not I wanted to keep them or whether I was done with them. A big part of me creating Under the Pepper Tree with vinyl in mind was because of this wonderful freedom that it gave me to put on a record and not have to make a choice for a while. I could just listen to it and not have to worry what song came up in the algorithm next, or decide whether or not I wanted to skip ahead. That freedom of just making one choice and being able to go about the rest of the things that I needed to do, it felt really liberating, like a kindness that I could do to myself. 

That also played into why I wanted to make this album with record listening in mind. It works great on digital too, but I imagined it being an A and B side. If you only listen to side A, you can get a full arc and it can send you into dreamland. And if you want to listen to it altogether, that’s another experience. 

Like with Nickel Creek on “Blue Shadows on the Trail,” were any specific guests important to certain songs?

“Tumbling Tumbleweeds” with Aoife [O’Donovan] and [Sarah] Jarosz, my I’m With Her bandmates, was just as important, because I really wanted both of those bands on this record. I feel like this album in a lot of ways celebrates this time in my life, and the music that I grew up with. For me also, it was an incredible way to get those two bands together on an album, because they’re both so meaningful to me, and have played such huge roles in my life, and in my growth and development as a person, as a mom. So it was incredibly meaningful to get to have them on it. 

All of the players on the record mean a lot to me, but I really also loved having Davíd Garza on this record, who is a dear friend. In particular, he plays this beautiful solo on “Moon River.” There’s a song on Emmylou Harris’ record Roses in the Snow when Willie Nelson comes in with a guitar solo, and then it sounds like he just goes away. When I first heard that record — I think it was in my early 20s — it was pretty informative to me about how a lot of times musicians can be known for one or two things, but they might not often get asked to just be a musician on somebody else’s record. I just love that [Harris] didn’t get Willie to sing on it, she got him to come in and play a guitar solo. That was really eye-opening for me, and changed the way I thought of playing with people. 

On “Moon River,” I specifically had that moment in mind where Willie comes in and plays a solo and goes away, and so Davíd graciously agreed to be my Willie Nelson on this song, and he does a wonderful job. 

Having a couple of original tunes on the record, what was your process behind writing something that incorporates naturally with these classic songs?

I felt like there should be a spot for fiddle on this record. I knew that I wanted to have an instrumental on here, and I knew that I wanted to write it. It was important to have a little break in the lyrics. It was great to expand my childhood story with the title of the [instrumental], “Under the Pepper Tree.” That has very personal weight to me. A lot of instrumental titles are pretty arbitrary in my experience, but this was an opportunity to share a little bit about my own childhood. 

There’s a tree that I spent a lot of time growing up with, playing in and imagining in. There are several very important pepper trees in my life. One of them is at my aunt’s house, where my grandma used to live. There were two huge family reunions under that pepper tree. I just remember running around with my cousins, playing tag, listening to my aunt’s laugh, all that stuff. It’s a really beautiful thing, and I think that had a natural place on the album. 

The other song [“Night Singing”] was a poem that I wrote, that eventually fell into a guitar part. Originally, I thought that this record would be a lullaby record, but my goal for the record changed. It was to make something a little more deeply transitional for people of all ages. But “Night Singing” is a true lullaby, for my daughter, for myself, and for my friends. 

Do you have any specific plans you’re looking forward to taking on when we climb out of this pandemic? 

This fall, my brother [Sean Watkins] and I are going to do some touring behind our Watkins Family Hour album brother sister, which came out a year ago now. We weren’t able to tour it, but a lot of the dates we had for last fall have been rescheduled for this fall, 2021. We have some dates on the books starting in August, which is kinda hard to believe! So this fall we’ll be able to do some in-person shows, and I’m really looking forward to it. 

I feel very stopped up in terms of creativity, because we wrote the brother sister record, recorded it, and put it out, and haven’t really been able to celebrate it with an audience. Then I put together Under the Pepper Tree, recorded that, released it, and I haven’t been able to do shows for it. There’s been writing for other projects, but I honestly feel a little bit stopped up creatively. I think I just need to perform some of these songs, and get them out of my body, so that I can put more stuff in. As alienating as this whole thing has felt for us, and as isolating as it has been, there has been to some degree a shared experience, and the universality of that has been reassuring at times for me. 


Sara and Sean Watkins, as Watkins Family Hour, are coming to Colorado in March 2022! Grab your tickets here.

Photo credit: Jacob Boll